When Regina wakes she notices Roland's absence immediately. She's not particularly worried though and assumes Roland has gone off with his father.
The second thing she is aware of is the strong smell of bacon. When she opens one blinking eye she sees a pair of worn brown boots before her. She turns her head, opens both eyes, and squints up into the brightness of the morning. There's Granny, natural frown firmly in place, her lined face gruff as she looks down at Regina from her full standing height. "Up and at um, girl," Granny says as she nudges Regina's blanket clad side with the toe of her boot.
Regina swats at Granny's leg but the older woman is already stepping away. Regina sits up expecting pain and when it doesn't arrive has a disorienting moment before it all rushes back and she looks around for Roland with a hand coming down to where he'd been by her side and gripping the blanket.
"The boy went off with his father, a little over an hour ago," Granny calls from the table. There are people in the kitchen, cooking, cleaning, and not being at all sly in watching every move Regina makes.
Mortification comes swiftly. Regina scampers up from her nest of blankets and is heading towards the doors when Granny's hand blocks her way, but does not touch her. If Regina ever had doubt of Granny's able bodiedness, they surely would now be put to rest, the old woman is fast.
"Breakfast," Granny says.
With a shake of her head Regina tries to sidestep her. "No, thank you," she says, but then Granny is touching her. A hand on Regina's shoulder, but for just a moment there is the ghostly feeling of claws, a giant paw, weighted and heavy against Regina's shoulder and the presence and breath of a very unhappy wolf behind her. And then it's gone, and Granny turns her around.
"You're eating breakfast," Granny demands and doesn't wait for a reply as she guides Regina to the table and all but shoves her down at the bench.
Regina glares at her, and doesn't stop even when her stomach chooses that moment to rumble. Granny smirks at the sound.
Regina rolls her eyes as she looks down and let's hair fall on either side of her face. Her hair is a mess. She can see the knots in her hair and doesn't at all look forward to brushing it.
"You're eating all of it," Granny announces as she slings a plate of bacon, eggs, and a hunk of crusty bread in front of Regina. Granny sits down on the bench beside her.
"Oh, am I?" Regina huffs. People telling Regina what to do, ordering her, is number one on the list of things that set her off, and a fight is building in her, in spite of the fact that she would have eaten all of it anyway.
Granny lets out a sigh, but Regina doesn't move the curtain of hair that blocks the old woman from her sight. There's a beat of silence before Granny is opening Regina's hand on the table top to place a fork there and then close her fingers around it. "I'd like to see you eat it all, Regina," Granny says. "You'll need the energy, especially with what you went through yesterday."
Regina tucks her hair behind her ear and looks, distrust in her face, at Granny. The old woman looks sad and Regina remembers, vaguely, Granny's face between the nightmares. Granny had seen her when she was most weak, and was now being kind. Regina can't abide pity.
But her stomach rumbles once more and she shakes it all away snf begins to eat with a purse of her lips. All while ignoring the others in the kitchen and ignoring the old woman who looks and looks like she's trying to see something she's never seen.
Most of Regina's food is gone when Granny speaks. "How old were you?"
Regina has a bite of food on its way to her mouth and it stays there, hovering over her plate. "What?" She'd heard the question, but she doesn't understand.
"How old were you when you married King Leopold?"
"What does it matter?" Regina says and drops her fork to her plate with a clatter. She turns and glares at the old woman and the woman looks sad.
Regina hates pity.
"It matters," Granny growls.
They stare at each other. They glare at each other.
Regina looks away with a shrug and picks up her fork. "Sixteen," she says and shoves a bite of egg in her mouth.
"A child," Granny says, and her hand curls into a fist on the tabletop.
"I was a woman grown," Regina insists, and she had been, to say she was a child was to make her a victim and she wasn't that, couldn't be that, "already flowered."
Granny opens her mouth and Regina has no idea what she'll say but doesn't want to hear it, she shoves the last bite of toast in her mouth and shoots up from her seat.
"Thank you for breakfast," she says and then is gone, out the kitchen, through hallways and she does not cry. She will not cry.
The sweet, clear sound of a child's laugh rings through the air. Regina breathes it in in relief as she walks towards the veranda that looks onto what was once the flower garden. It's overrun now into a field of unkempt long grass and wildflowers.
And there is Roland, sunshine shining on him, smiling as he rides his father's shoulders, giggles only growing when Robin neighs.
"Faster! They're gonna get us!" Roland cries with one hand wrapped around a willowy stick and the other wrapped around Robin's head as Robin laughs. They're pelting through the swaying grass.
Regina can see Friar Tuck chasing after them, moving far too slow to actually be trying to catch the father and son, an exaggerated expression of rage contorts the large man's face and he takes a huge breath and bellows, "There's no escape from me!"
Regina feels a smile tug at her lips as she rests her hands softly on the veranda railing, fingers curling against the sun warmed stone. The three quarter sleeves of her dress bare her arms. The long gashes that had been there, they, and the stitches that held them closed are gone. Healed away. Long, thick scars remain where they were, but they don't hurt.
After washing the caked mud, sweat, and tears from her person she'd needed to find Robin and Roland. Washing the red mud from her hair had, by far, been the longest task. She'd washed it and brushed it and wears the dark weight of it down about her shoulders now. She couldn't muster the will today to twist it into anything elaborate. She is too tired today to do anything but the bare minimum. Roland had healed her, but exhaustion still weighs her down. She'd be sleeping in her bed if she hadn't needed to see them both, the father and son, she has no real sense of what she plans to do or say, if she plans to do or say anything really, Roland's secret is his own and to spill it…Regina won't. But the need to see them both is very real.
A gust of wind rustles the grass and flings her hair in all directions. She raises a hand to try and tame it with her eyes never leaving the duo pelting closer and closer. Roland looks away from his pursuer and catches her eye. He bounces on his father's shoulder and waves with both hands, the end of the stick fwicking dangerously close to his eye.
"Regina!" he screams, as loud as his little lungs can manage.
Her smile grows and she raises both arms to wave right back.
Robin is looking at her too, smiling eyes suddenly turning mischievous. "Ser Roland!" he says, "We need-"
"Horsies don't talk," Roland says, all the affront a four year old can muster trapped in those three words.
Robin grins and jogs to the veranda. Roland's head bobs just above the veranda's railing, the boy could grab hold of it if he were a foot closer. "A Queen's token," Robin says, pantomime panting as if he's run miles and miles, and Friar Tuck has slowed considerably behind them, growling and snarling in such a theatrical way that Regina almost laughs, "for luck, my boy, ask the Queen for a token."
Roland forgets his insistence that horsies don't talk for a moment and gasps as nods. His big eyes implore as Robin bounces the boy on his shoulders. "Regina, could I borrow a token please?"
Regina laughs, it titters out of her without a thought. "Roland, I'm sorry, I have no token," the little boys face creases in deep worry, and turns to regard the man advancing so, so slowly. "But," Regina continues, and the boy looks at her again, smirking and he looks so much like his father.
Regina leans over the railing, putting all her weight against it as she extends her arms towards the child's face. She cups the back of his head and regards him seriously, as if this is no game, and he tries to bite back his grin. "For the bravest knight in the realm, I have something with the luck of a thousand tokens."
"What? What is it?" Roland is practically vibrating with his excitement.
Regina places her lips against his forehead softly, and her eyes close for a moment with the smell of wild flowers in her nose and the feel of sunshine on her skin, and sweet Roland had healed her, all her pain gone away and she is more grateful than a mere thank you can express, but she is saddened too, the pain had been her burden, what is life without it? What is her life without pain?
When she pulls away Roland has his eyes closed too, a soft, content expression on his cherubic face, he blinks slowly as if he's waking from a nap and a smile grows on his face.
"A Queens kiss is lucky?" Roland asks, than his faces scrunches up, jealousy on that little face. "Did you have to kiss all your knights, Regina?"
Regina laughs and decides that the fact she did kiss a fair amount of knights is not something the child needs to know, and the whispered thought that neither does his father goes ignored. "No dear, you're the only one," she tells him.
A very nearby growl has Roland spinning away from her and she retracts her hands back to the railing.
Roland brandishes the stick at Friar Tuck. "I got a kiss from the Queen!" Roland says, chest puffed out, "and you're nothing but a mean smelly ogre and she'd never kiss you!"
With that Robin charges forward with a mighty neigh. Roland thwack the stick at Friar Tuck who bats it away while laughing, thoroughly ruining his ogre impression.
Regina shakes her head and traverses over to the steps and descends into the long grass. Her hands glide over the tops as she as she approaches them. She stops a few feet away from where Friar Tuck now rolls on the ground. He's reciting quite the deathbed speech.
Roland pumps his hands in the air at his victory. He's squirming so much that Robin swings him off his shoulders.
He skips over to her. "Did you see?" he asks.
"Did you see?" Henry asks, and he is so proud and yes of course she'd seen.
Regina blinks and crosses her arms. A beat to long goes by and she hopes the child doesn't notice. "Yes, dear," she finally answers him "you defeated that mighty foe admirably."
Roland smiles and nods as he turns to thwacks at some long grass.
"Your Majesty," Robin says. Regina takes a breath before turning her gaze to Robin as her arms cross tighter across her chest. "We wished to see you safety awake, but-"
"No need," she says with a shake her head.
His head tilts.
Regina makes an effort to uncross her arms and she looks up at him. "I wanted to thank you. You carried me two miles, thank you."
He shrugs, like it is nothing, like it is anything anyone would do but Regina knows it isn't. She is the Evil Queen and anyone else would have let her faint in the river Weeping and drown and good riddance, but he had carried her, and 'You touch her again I'll break your fingers.'
"Well, it's not as if you're heavy," he says and laughs.
Regina narrows her eyes and hums lowly.
"Because you aren't, heavy, I mean," he says in a rush and with a smile as he observes her.
"So if I weighed a little more you'd have dropped me?" she says. She's teasing and he responds in kind with a shocked gasp as he fidgets.
Roland gasps and whips around from the imaginary foe he was sword fighting. "Papa!"
"No!" Robin cries with a smile down at Roland. He shakes his head and turns to look back at Regina, his gaze turns softer and more serious as he takes a step forward. "I would carry you anywhere."
Her breath catches for a moment. The way he's looking at her, the way he stands so close, it all goes rushing to her head. Everything in her is telling her to step away. She can't trust him, she can't trust anyone.
Roland tugs on her skirt and when she looks down at him he has his hands upraised with grabby hands that say 'up, up' in any realm. The way she sweeps down and picks him up is instinct. She places him on her hip and it's only after he's settled that she realizes what she's done.
She turns to Robin, waiting for the anger. "I'm sorry," she starts to say as the little boy has his arms wrapped around her neck. She's bending right back down to put him on his feet when Robin grabs her shoulder with a gentle grip against her.
"You make quite the pair. Is he too heavy?" Robin asks.
Regina reaches up to tuck hair behind her ear as she shakes her head. It's her scarred arm. What had been open wounds are closed now and she can see the very moment Robin realizes. His eyes widen and his mouth opens in a soft oh. He reaches for her so, so softly. He wraps his grip around her wrist with his fingertips at her pulse point and he straightens out her arm between them. He trails fingertips up the thick raised scars that look years and years old.
His touch has goosebumps rising all over, and she actually shudders an exhale that has embarrassment coloring her cheeks. He raises his gaze from the scars to her face then, and Regina can see the very moment his blood turns hot in reaction to her.
"Are you even listening?!" Friar Tuck cries from the ground, glaring at them, he's been going through his death throes the entire time, "I am dying here!"
Robin takes a miniscule step back, and trails his fingers down her arm before releasing her. "So sorry, Tuck," he laughs.
"Regina, will you eat with us?" Roland asks. He's giggling as he turns away from Friar Tuck and he's kicking his little legs and he's almost too big for Regina to carry at all.
Her mouth opens and nothing comes out.
She eats alone.
Always.
And to be close to Robin is a terrible mistake. Even now she's obviously more affected than he is by whatever just travelled between them. She feels flustered and suddenly flushed in a way she hasn't felt since….since she was a girl in the throws of her first, and only, romance.
"You're more than welcome," Robin says with a smile.
"I," -she doesn't want to eat alone, she is so sick of being alone- "if I'm welcome," she answers and hates that her trepidation is audible.
Friar Tuck climbs up, dusts off his pants and ushers them all back across the flower garden.
"Vanquishing that knight has made me hungry!" he booms.
"Nuhuh!" Roland cries immediately. Regina shuffles him up and secures him better on her hip. The boy spins his face to her. "I won," he says.
Regina nods. "Yes, dear, you most certainly did."
"See," Roland says as he pokes at Friar Tuck with the stick, "most certaintwly," he echoes with a face that says 'so there' and Regina laughs and kisses his cheek.
She's clutching Roland like a security blanket when they approach the table. This is a mistake, she isn't welcome.
The men look up, look at Roland in her arms, and then at Robin and at his smile and nod they become a little less wary looking, but it doesn't leave their eyes completely.
Nerves run up and down Regina's spine as she sets Roland down. The boy drags her by the hand to empty seats and tucks into her side the moment they sit.
The table is quiet and she doesn't look up until she feels Robin take a seat on her other side.
He smiles at her and slowly conversations start, but no one talks to her except Roland and Robin.
"I don't like um," the little boy says later with a pout. He's pushing his carrots around sullenly with his fork.
Robin sighs and leans forward over the table to look at Roland from around Regina. "You have to eat them." It sounds like an argument they've had many times before.
"Why don't you like them?" Regina asks. She has more than enough experience dealing with picky little boys.
"They're yucky!" he exclaims vehemently.
Regina picks one off his plate and pops it in her mouth. "Bunnies like them," she says and chews with a shrug.
"I am not a bunny!" Roland huffs with his little arms crossed indignantly.
She laughs. He's at such a beautiful age. She leans down to him and wraps her arm around his shoulders. "Do you want to know a secret?"
The secretive tone of her voice is enough for him to immediately be interested, he nods excitedly. He listens like the existence of the world is at stake. Regina lets her eyes sweep over the room in an obvious show before she hunkers down close to him.
"Only grown ups are meant to know this, Roland. Have you ever seen a bunny run? Are they fast?"
"So fast!" Roland confirms.
Regina nods solemnly. "Bunnies are so fast because they eat carrots, it's why they can jump so high too." When she reaches for another carrot off his plate he blocks her fork.
"Does it only work for bunnies?" he whispers.
Her eyes widen in pantomime realization. "Well your Papa is fast isn't he?"
The little boy nods emphatically and his whole face crumples as he tries to work out the logistics here. A moment later his mouth drops open. "It must be because he eats carrots!" he cries with a gasp. "Papa!?" he asks as he calmors up onto his knees and then in her lap to become closer to Robin. His back hits the table and silverware rattles. "Why didn't you say carrots made you fast?"
Robin looks from his son to Regina and she smiles weakly. It was good fun when she was whispering in Roland's ear, but now she sees she's lying to the child, but when does a game turn into a lie-
"I'm sorry, my boy," Robin whispers in response. He leans forwards and all three of their faces are all very close together now. "I couldn't let slip the secret."
"Next time there's a secret you gotta tell me," Roland says and narrows his eyes at his father before shuffling back to his own seat and shoveling carrots in his mouth with a tiny grimace, his expression hard and unyielding.
Lunch has left her warm and as happy as she's able to be. Roland is not her son, but he brings so much joy.
She's relaxed now in one of the numerous libraries of the castle. She's alone with the moth eaten books, so many of their inks faded, lost to time, she's surrounded by the smell of the old books. She's is not in pain. The tide has rushed out, grief's push and pull leaving her wading content in the shallows. For today.
The old rusted hinges of the door surprises her from her thoughts and she frowns as she turns to see who has entered. The frown only grows as she sees the other woman. "Snow," Regina says. She's almost exasperated enough to puff herself into the highest tower in the castle, just to escape, but she's still gaining back her magical strength and she shouldn't waste if on such a petty thing.
"Hi, Regina," Snow says with tentative smile on her face and she walks closer.
Regina keeps the open book in her hands and does not turn fully from the shelves. She narrows her gaze at Snow. "What do you want?" she asks. The girl had always held no interest in this library, filled with books on history and medicine and a fair few hidden magic tomes. Snow had always sequestered herself away with the romance and adventure to be found in the east wing library.
"I wanted to see you," Snow says and picks a book from the shelf at random, but does not open it; she hugs it against her chest, like a shield.
"Why?" Regina stretches out.
Snow shrugs. "Are you alright?"
"Fine," Regina says and turns away.
Snow shakes her head. "It feels like we're taking ten steps back. You can't even stand to look at me?"
"I'm not sure what kind of relationship you thought we had in Storybrooke-"
"Regina," Snow sighs, such a disappointed sound.
It enrages Regina so suddenly that it takes her breath away. Sighing sighing, always sighing, disappointed in Regina, the stupid girl was just like her lecherous father, always sighing.
Regina slams the book to the floor and rounds on Snow. "Do you mean us to be friends?" She snaps. "What do you want from me? You have no need to be here, you inflict your presence when it is not needed. I am your ally because of my child, my son." Snow flinches at that, the acid tone, because Snow had never been Regina's child.
"I hate you," Regina says. She hates Snow White, bitterly and truly, Mary Margaret was another woman in another world, but this is Snow, standing in her father's castle, the hatred grew in this castle once, and it's seeping back, Regina's voice had been a hiss, and her hands gesture in front of her like she is throttling something.
Snow swallows and shakes her head with desperation in her eyes. Her face twists up. "You didn't always," she says as she holds back tears. "We could have that back, Regina. We could heal."
It's like a slap in the face and Regina steps back. She guffaws a broken sound. "I was your slave and your father's whore. I would rather die than go back there."
Snow flinches like it's not the truth.
Regina leans a hand against the shelves as her shoulder thuds against the heavy books. She's very suddenly exhausted. "Leave," she growls.
Snow does. She whirls away with her soft skirts flowing after her. Even and calm strides carry her towards the doors, but in the hall Regina can hear the pitter patter of her running.
And the contentment is gone.