Here, have some Regina feels.
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She loved him.
She loved him, she loved him, she loved him.
She let out another sob into the pillow she was squeezing to her chest, as though without its light weight in her arms she would just float away.
Regina tried to suppress the memories that were returning to the forefront of her mind, tried to lock them away in that part of her mind that she had just constructed earlier that night, but it was no use. She had tried to cage away all of her memories of Robin, but the walls were not strong enough yet. They were too weak. She was too weak.
She recalled the day that she had first noticed his tattoo. The lion tattoo. No, the day she had seen it in Storybrooke had not been the first time she had laid eyes on it since the night she had run from the tavern in the first year of her marriage to the king. She had noticed it when she had given him the gold-tipped arrows. Instead of calling him to her chambers, she had preferred to present him with the gift privately, away from the prying eyes of Snow White and the others. She'd found him one evening in his chambers, tucking Roland in for the night, and his loose sleeves had been pushed up to his elbows as he answered her knock on his door. She had seen it as he had smiled apprehensively and run a hand through his hair in his surprise at seeing the Queen at his door. There, on his right forearm, in black ink; this time not lighted by green pixie dust. She had intended on showing him her gratitude for keeping her attempt of putting herself under a sleeping curse a secret, but the moment her gaze was distracted by the inky lion, she had frozen completely. Her 'Evil Queen' mask fell over her features immediately. The smile had disappeared from her eyes, and her mouth had moved into its habitual smirk.
She had been struck by terror. Terror that her soulmate had suddenly appeared after so many years, terror that he wouldn't even be able to consider having any feelings for her other than wary respect, or even worse, contempt.
Even if he had kept her secret, she could not imagine that he would have wanted anything to do with her. Not romantically. Not after how cautious he had been around her when they had broken into her castle. How he had drawn his bow at her, convinced that she had hidden an evil intention behind her promise to bring down the shield. How he had almost seemed to be walking on eggshells around her, scared that at any moment she would snap and throw a fireball at him as the Evil Queen would have done.
She didn't think she was that person anymore. But she got the impression that he was uncertain of the extent to which she had changed.
So her guard had shot straight up, and she had practically thrust the arrows into his arm with a snappy remark. Before he could reply or offer his own thanks, she had retreated back down the hall to her own chambers, feeling his eyes on her back as she stalked away.
She had made sure to be cold towards him, but one day, when she had been weary from trying to find a way to defeat her sister, she had noticed him following her as she rode through the forest. As they rode back to her castle together, she had let down her guard and had opened up to him as she hadn't to anyone but Archie. She had told him everything. She figured he would learn the truth from someone if not her, and if he really still could be her soulmate, she thought he deserved to know it coming from her own lips. He hadn't spoken or questioned her, he had just listened. She didn't attempt to gage his reaction to her tale, and when they reached the castle she left him without even a glance in his direction.
Later that week, however, she had turned a corner only to see him walking down the corridor, coming towards her, a bow slung over his shoulder. She had maintained her pace, and as they got closer, their eyes had meet in a heated glance. Neither had said a word, neither had nodded to acknowledge the other; it was as though they were both too startled by the other's sudden appearance to muster a proper reaction other than a stare. They had simply maintained eye contact until they had walked directly past each other, breaking their shared gaze only because they were no longer in each other's peripheral vision. Regina could remember the way her blood had felt like it was fire coursing through her veins, how her palms had become clammy, how her throat had seemed to close up and her mouth muscles refused to move in order to break the silence with a sassy comment. She hadn't been able to read the intensity behind the expression in his eyes; the only part of it she had made sense of was the look of curiosity with which he regarded her. But there was something else, as well...
The memory dissolved only to be replaced by another.
Standing in her castle with Charming lying on the ground, dead. Snow pleading with her to tear out her heart and divide it in two. Averting her eyes to give them a moment of privacy. What had she been thinking while she watched the magic of true love save a life?
She had been thinking that that was what she yearned for. She yearned for a love that would help fill the void in her heart. Without Henry, the void would never be completely filled, but she imagined that if there ever was a man who loved her and whom she loved as much as Snow and Charming loved each other, the pain of losing Henry would have been bearable. Perhaps her heart wouldn't still have pleaded for vengeance; perhaps the door in the forest would have shown her the Witch of the South; perhaps she would have been at least content.
As she gazed out the open archway, past the balcony, and over the forest that they ruled, her countenance became one full of regret and longing. If she had been kinder to Robin, if she had sought him out to speak to him and get to know him as she had so yearned to do, would he have been standing there with her now, holding her hand or even embracing her as they watched the curse roll out into the land, clinging to her, terrified that he would forget her and their relationship because of Zelena's sabotage?
She let out another heaving sob as she realized the futility of what she had longed for that day.
Even if she had let him in, let him past her "not-evil-but-not-good-yet-either Queen" facade and let him see "Regina", it all would have led to the same place.
Her, standing in that diner alone, watching helplessly as he was reunited with his wife.
In Storybrooke, the first time they had met, he had managed to see right through her "Evil Queen" persona. He had glimpsed "Regina" that day. It was what he had said to her that had convinced her to be open with him and let down her guard. He was one of the only few people in Storybrooke who had seemed to trust her, and who didn't seem to still feel terrorized by her. Acceptance had been what she craved, and he had given it to her.
And yet it hadn't mattered.
She had let him in, let him see her vulnerable side, let him see her ache for her son, let him see her in tears, let him hold her, let him brush his fingers through her hair, let him kiss her, let him drape his arms around her, let him stand by her and be her backup in a fight. She had done the same for him.
She had opened up her heart to love, she had let go of her anger and her pain and her need for revenge.
It had all been for nothing.
No matter how she had acted towards him in the Enchanted Forest, no matter how she had allowed herself to care for him in Storybrooke, it would have all led to that night anyway.
The return of his wife.
It would have been better to have never found love again at all than to have it ripped away from her in such a blunt manner.
She couldn't help but wonder again if Marian had been in his life when she had run away from the tavern that Tinkerbell had led her to. Had she gone in...would she have been happy, now, with him? Would they have had a family, with a little boy or girl or both with a mischevious side inherited from both parents, his dimples, and her hair? Children that she could call her own? Would they still be in the Enchanted Forest, having little, but content as long as they had a home that only a happy family could provide?
She tried to think of something else, but her imagination betrayed her.
She could see it.
A small cottage tucked deep into the woods. Robin standing outside with two little dark-haired children, a boy and a girl, teaching them how to nock an arrow with his big bow as they copied his gestures with their smaller ones. She could see herself riding up to them, astride a horse, returning from a trip to town to buy supplies for her family. Unsolicited joy on the three dimpled faces as they caught sight of her. Laughter and hugs and kisses as she showed them what she had returned with.
What she would never have, because she had been stupid enough to stand in her own way.
Even without her heart, the pain was still unbearable.
No use dwelling on what might have been.
She tried to control her violent sobs, and slowly, her breathing began to even out. She released the pillow slightly, only to be distracted by a knock on her door. She stiffened instantly.
Was it Emma, looking for forgiveness for only doing what was right? She couldn't imagine Emma coming to apologize at 3:30am.
Was it Henry? It couldn't be. He wouldn't be up so late.
The Charmings would be too busy with their newborn...
She could only think of one other person who would dare knock on her door at 3:30am. The only person who would have any cause to do so.
Sitting up in bed, she stared out her window, a few tears still trickling down her cheeks. Her teeth gnawed at her inner cheek as she wondered if it was him, and if it was, why he would have come at such a time. Had he come to apologize, to be honourable and tell her that everything had to end between them now that his wife was back? Or had he come to assure her of the strength of his feelings for her...?
As much as she tried to push it down, she couldn't stop the infinitesimal feeling of hope that had stirred in her at the sound of the knock. She hated herself for it.
Another knock had her running for her bathroom, checking her hair and making sure there were no black tracks down her cheeks from her makeup. She brushed away the wetness, and noted that her eyes were puffy and red, but there was nothing she could do to alleviate it. Magic wouldn't help.
Another, more insistant knock sounded as she made her way down the stairs slowly, unease filling her at what she would find when she opened the door. Whether it would lead to elation as it had in her dream or just reaffirm the despair that had settled over her. The latter seemed more in line with reality.
She opened the door and her breath hitched.
He had been standing with his back to the door, but as soon he heard the sound of the door opening he had whirled around to face her.
If her heart had been in her chest, she was sure that she would have felt it mend at the sight of him, only to fall apart again at the expression on his face.
Sadness and pain, which mirrored her own, but also, guilt.
His face fell even further at the sight of her. He didn't greet her with the usual kiss that had become a habit over the past few days. He seeemed to be unable to speak, closing and reopening his mouth as he looked her straight in the eyes.
She moved out of the doorway in a gesture for him to enter. He did.
As she led him to her dining room, she steeled herself for the final nail in the coffin of her hopes.
He had knocked three times. In his anxious state, he turned his back to the door and ran a hand through his hair, brainstorming possible ways to get into her home if she did not answer.
When he heard the door open, he spun around and felt paralyzed at the sight of her. Still wearing the dress she had worn the day before, hair in a slight disarray, and a cold, sad expression on her face that seemed to try to defy him to remark on the puffiness of her eyes.
He tried to think of something to say, but as he saw a flicker of despair wash over her face as she moved out of the doorway to let him in, he was sure that his expression had already hinted to her what he had come to say.
I hope you liked it! Thank you for reading.
Any mistakes are my own, sorry.
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