A/N: For those few reading, I apologize for the tardiness. I got sidetracked with another ship. . Gonna try and keep up regular posting of this story, but I can't make any promises aside from it WILL get published in its entirety. This is already written, so there won't be any orphaning going on.
Standard Disclaimer: These lovely characters ain't mine, I just play with them gently. Please don't sue me. The mistakes are mine, though.
Chapter 19 – Some Things Never Change
Against the backdrop of a darkening horizon, the Emerald City has enlarged into a much more vibrant sprinkling of verdant fingers that poking up into a vast blanket of starry sky. They are halfway to their destination. With the wind whipping around her and the cool of the night air nipping at her cheeks, Regina cannot help but enjoy the journey. The sound of Lucas' hooves pounding against the seamless joints of the Yellow Brick Road is music to her ears, and she lets the lively melody carry the miles away.
After a long while they enter a section of the golden thoroughfare that carves a diagonal path through a sprawling forest. Here evidence of the malady gripping the land of Oz is even more pronounced. Low light penetration is typical to any dense woodland sporting such a thick canopy of leaves overhead, but here the absence is almost tangible, an inky shadow that clings to her clothes and pores, clogs up her throat and airway until she cannot decide whether she wants to choke or gag. The smell of decay is pungent, the kind of odor most common to marshes and bogs where the soupy mix of brine and earth is left to ferment for decades, centuries even. Trees that more resemble a coven of centenarian hags occupy the darkness, all gnarled and withered trunks and angular limbs like arthritic fingers. Regina wonders whether this is a symptom of her sister's insidious rot or if this forest is simply a haven for malefic forces to congregate. If so, she does not wish to spend any more time loping through the gloom than is absolutely necessary.
She only lets up about half an hour later upon spotting a well-worn trail jutting to the east towards a small area bathed in light. The gentle sound of slowly running water makes for a far more inviting spot to break than the rest of their current environment. The stop is mostly for Snow's benefit. Her fellow monarch has been fidgeting behind her for the past five minutes, whether from the unsettling forest they are traversing or simple saddle soreness. Whatever the case, it was starting to get annoying. Having to halt their progress right now is not ideal, as she would prefer to keep going a while longer since Lucas has really hit his stride. He really is a marvelous specimen. She doesn't doubt he could take another half hour's hard riding before requiring a rest. But should he be made to test his limits just because she wants to push her own? Not only is that unwise, it is also cruel. Red is not in imminent danger just yet, nor are they so far as she can tell, which means she can afford the luxury of considering the needs of their mount. And Snow's, too, she supposes.
Close by, less than a hundred yards off the road, a crystal clear lake becomes visible just about halfway down the narrow path. A thin, meandering stream empties into it from the north, and it is banked in on their side by a rock outcropping that will provide good cover should they require it. It is, all things considered, a perfect spot for a breather. After halting Lucas at the heel of the path, Regina directs Snow to dismount and then does so herself once Snow is out of the way. She then leads Lucas by the reins toward the picturesque body of water whose surface is shimmering red in the failing light of the evening sun.
Upon reaching the shore, she sees no need to tie off her newly acquired steed and instead lets him wander freely. She has already bonded with Lucas and knows he will remain close by. As the majestic animal languidly waters at the rolling stream feeding the lake, she moves a stone's throw away to take a moment for herself. Despite their burgeoning camaraderie, getting away from Snow for a few minutes is probably a good idea. For both their sakes. To that end, she leaves Snow behind with a pointed glare that needs no translation, then skirts along the shoreline. She wanders aimlessly until stumbling upon a large, tear-drop shaped stone with a smooth surface. She peers once over her shoulder into the blackness of the forest, a final sweep for danger, before perching on the flat top of the slab, where she settles in to stare out numbly out at the calm surface of the lake.
Several minutes pass in silence before she feels rather than sees Snow intently eyeing her. When she cranes her head over she finds Snow nearby, studying her critically as if trying to unravel some fascinating mystery. The unflinching gaze unnerves her more than she would care for it to.
"What?" she barks when the tension becomes unbearable.
Snow tilts her head slightly before responding. "Just trying to figure out what she sees in you."
The statement should not have bothered Regina. In the seven years since Red came to live at the Dark Palace, she has lost count of how many times she's heard similar comments.
Everyone in the castle and in Stahldorf, the merchant town that sprung up in its shadow, adores Red. Almost to a person they think she is the most wonderful thing to happen to their kingdom since their beloved princess was driven into permanent exile. As Queen, Red has outdone herself and managed to win over nearly all of her initial detractors save a few stubborn hold-outs amongst the nobles who still see her as a threat, and even those have learned to tolerate her provincial manners, principles, and ideologies. There is a consensus among them that her presence has been beneficial for the kingdom's general welfare solely for her ameliorating influence on Regina. That Red was once a peasant has become insignificant in the light of that inarguable benefit.
It's no wonder, then, that people cannot fathom what a lovely young woman like Red is doing with someone of Regina's volatile temperament. The sad fact of the matter is, for all of her efforts to change, she remains regrettably herself. There are times she is vindictive, others she is cruel, often sarcastic to a fault, unduly harsh, intractable when her mind is made up, and demanding to a degree approaching the tyrannical. The only time she allows herself to be tender and approachable is in private with Red, away from prying eyes that might witness such inexcusable weakness. In public, she is never long without the armor of professional detachment. She has moments of kindness now that once she never would have permitted, but they never last long. A Queen cannot afford to appear vulnerable when she has as many enemies as Regina does.
It makes perfect sense Snow would feel as she does about her relationship with Red. But that doesn't mean it's easy to swallow when she wants so much to be worthy of Red's love and feels she will forever fall short.
"Believe me," she answers Snow after a brief, uncomfortable pause, "I wonder the same thing on a daily basis."
Snow hums, not so much in agreement as acknowledgment. "Well, all that matters is there is something there. Right? I've yet to meet a finer judge of character than Red. She has a way of seeing things others don't want her to or that they don't even know are there in the first place. If there's a sliver of goodness inside someone, she'll be the one to find it."
"Agreed. She has a way of loving the unlovable," Regina says, clearly referring to herself. "Unlike me, she has a good heart."
Snow pulls a face that says she disagrees. "That's not entirely true. Maybe I would have thought that two days ago, but don't forget, I've seen yours. Literally."
Regina does not follow the relevance of her heart's condition on what mystifying characteristic attracts Red to her. "So?"
"So," Snow elaborates, "I had assumed it would be pretty much all black but it's not. Not even close." Regina flinches slightly, unable to hide her reaction to the state of her heart. She had hoped Snow missed that little detail, but the brat's perceptiveness continues to surprise her. No wonder she evaded Regina's knights so effectively. Everyone had underestimated her potential except Red. "I can see by your reaction that it caught you unaware as well." Regina says nothing, though her silence is tacit confirmation. "She's helping you to heal, isn't she?"
"Yes," Regina grits out, knowing that lying is pointless. If she tries, Snow will hound her relentlessly, just like she did back in that squat village they auspiciously stumbled upon Darion. "But don't go advertising that fact any time soon. My fearsome reputation is useful in many ways. For one, it's kept Red alive these past seven years."
"What do you mean by that?" Snow asks, aghast.
Regina scoffs derisively at Snow's perpetually callow nature. "Did you not hear me earlier when I told you she was wounded saving my life? And honestly, Snow, did you believe that she could marry me without becoming a target? You're a blue-blooded royal. You grew up in that vicious, backstabbing world. You know what those people are like. They're all bloodthirsty warmongers whose lust for power is only rivaled by their craving for wealth." Of course that is hyperbole, but it often seems like the nobility is exactly as she described. "The moment I made Red my consort, she became fair game to my enemies. And then when I dared to upset the apple cart and actually married her, not to mention sharing my authority with her..." she trails off, knowing Snow will make the logical deduction. The people that wanted to hurt Red when she was a mere consort have even more reason to do so now – that in addition to the enemies their marriage created in and of itself.
After Snow lets those words sink in for a moment, she peers up at Regina, her innocence showing through by how shocked she is anyone could want to deliberately hurt Red. "People have tried to…to hurt her? On purpose?"
"Sadly they have," Regina confirms, remembering the numerous attempts with perfect clarity, some poorly executed but some very nearly successful. "At least a half-dozen times since I set the crown upon her head I have been alerted to a plot against her life or well-being. Most were minor and unraveled before progressing past the planning stages. But the few self-contained enough to produce legitimate attempts were stopped just in the nick of time. The first year after we went public with our relationship was the worst." Regina is thinking of one specific incident.
Snow picks up on her pensive expression and approaches to sits next to Regina, concern written all over her face. "What happened?"
Regina takes a deep breath. She hates even thinking about this particular event, so to speak it aloud is especially distasteful. She steels herself before beginning the tale. "A bit before you and your shepherd deposed King George," she says, "I was due to make an inspection of the garrison near our border with what is now your realm. Rather than permit Red to accompany me, I asked her to stay behind and run things in my place – I'd wanted to know how she would handle the responsibility of rule because I was considering marriage even then. She did fine, naturally, but her ability to reign at my side should not have been my primary concern.
"Halfway to the garrison, my carriage was flagged down by a rider, out of breath and in an absolute tizzy. It took him twice as long as it should have to stutter out his explanation that something terrible had happened. Apparently not terribly long after I left the castle, Red went milling about the village below as she is apt to do. She's always loved to spend time among the commoners, being that she was one. Since they know she is sympathetic to their plight and has my ear, they boldly approach her with their troubles. Most of the time there is little I can do for them, and she knows that, but she always takes the time to listen. She says it's the least she can do when the gods have rained such good fortune down upon her. They love her for that, as do I, but it was only a matter of time before someone took advantage of her habits.
"Apparently I was responsible for the death of a man's wife who wished to repay the favor. To avoid detection, he dressed the part of a bedraggled farmer from a neighboring town. When he approached Red, she was not at all suspicious, and in the crowd, her heightened senses cannot pick up every little detail. What she didn't know was that the cowardly bastard had a knife tucked into his sleeve. She didn't even have time to react before it was in his hand. He stabbed her in the upper chest and left her to bleed out on the filthy street. She would have died had she not been a werewolf and had the surrounding villagers not quickly sprang to her aid. Those that weren't beating that son of a bitch half to death did all they could to stop the bleeding. Even with their heroic efforts, she nearly bled to death before the physician arrived."
Snow gasps in horror. "Oh, no! That's...that's horrific!"
"You have no idea," Regina replies gravely. "Upon receiving the news, I immediately abandoned my retinue and magically transported myself to the castle. When I entered the surgical ward, there was blood everywhere. There had been no major accidents or attacks in months, so I knew it was all hers, and the sight left me so terrified that I could barely put one leg in front of the other for trembling. Thankfully my father was already there to calm me with reassurances that she was still alive. He sat with me while she was being tended to. Eventually, the physician was able to repair the artery that got nicked, and Red's werewolf recovery took care of the rest. She was on her feet again two days later, almost as if it never happened.
"But I'll never forget how I felt in that moment, seeing her like that, so unnaturally pale and still. If her chest hadn't been moving with each labored breath, I would have mistaken her for dead. It was the first time it really sank in that losing her to an assassin's blade was all too real a possibility. I had been overconfident in my ability to protect her, so naturally I blamed myself for what happened. Needless to say, I set wards around our bedchambers and ordered a contingent of guards to watch her at all times when she was outside the safety of that room. Red did not appreciate those extreme measures in the slightest, but it was the only way I could face the separation without tearing my hair out due to anxiety."
Snow nods thoughtfully. "In a way, I can imagine. Once, Charming and I left Emma behind with her nanny while we went on a short day trip. While we were gone, she fell and broke her arm. She'd run away from the nanny and tripped down a set of stairs in the castle. When we got back home, I had an absolute fit. I nearly fired the woman before Charming convinced me it wasn't her fault. He had to remind me how often Emma does the same thing to us. Still, I hovered like a mother hen for weeks after that. But if something like...that happened to her or Charming? I don't know what I'd do."
Regina hums her agreement with Snow's response. "Be thankful you don't know what it's like," she says. "I fretted over Red nonstop for weeks after she got better, constantly afraid that there would be follow-up attempts. I am paranoid at the best of times because of how many enemies I have, but adding her welfare to the mix pushed me to the brink. For a while I saw threats around every corner. People were afraid to even glance at her for fear of me having them arrested on the spot."
In a bold move, Snow reaches out and touches Regina's elbow. For whatever reason, the contact is not wholly unwelcome, and it is because she knows Snow's heart is in the right place that she permits it.
"I'm so sorry that happened," Snow then offers, heartfelt in earnest. But then she cocks her head to side, and furrows her brows slightly. "Why did I never hear of this, though? I make sure to keep an ear to the ground for news of Red. I never heard a peep of this attempt on her life."
"Because, like with the poisoning she suffered saving me, I arranged for the incident to be covered up," Regina explains. "If I hadn't, the whole wide world would have been made aware that it was open season on her. She makes herself vulnerable on a near daily basis by visiting the village below the castle and interacting with the common folk, all without guards being present. And she refuses my pleas for her to allow them to accompany her. Every time I assign a squad to shadow her unawares, she sniffs them out and orders them away."
Regina picks up a smooth, flat rock and flings it out over the lake, watching with dim satisfaction as it skips seven times before sinking through the surface. Red would be proud. "Even after she was hurt," she says, chest tightening at the remembrance of a time she'd lived on pins and needles where her wife's well-being was concerned, "I knew her infuriating stubborn streak would prevent her from changing her routine. And I was right. A week later, she was back in the village making herself available to those in need. It's just who she is, and that is why I love her. Do you want to know what most amazing thing about that debacle was?"
"What?" Snow asks, fully invested in the answer.
"When she first came around after being patched up," Regina tells her, eyes distant with remembering the occasion, "I chastised her for her stupidity until I was beet red in the face. All she could say was, 'I'm just glad it wasn't you.'"
"Oh, Regina..." Snow sighs, her expression caught somewhere between sympathy and an almost infinite affection for Red.
Regina breathes deeply and then lets it out slowly, feeling the same infinite affection for Red as Snow, only more intensely and personally and intimately. "Ever since she came to live with me she has given without thought for herself both to me and to my people. It shames me to think I do so little in return. I'd give her the world if I could, but even that would not be adequate when she deserves the sun, moon, and stars as well."
For a long time, Snow does not say anything or even move a muscle. She just sits there staring at Regina until Regina is squirming under Snow's discerning gaze.
"Can I ask you a question and you not get angry?" Snow then asks.
"I suppose that depends on the question," Regina answers pensively before heaving a great sigh at Snow's silent pleading. Her puppy eyes are almost as bad as Red's. "But I am clearly in a receptive mood, so..." She gestures lamely at Snow to ask away.
After a brief grin, Snow's eyes fill with a sage wisdom that Regina hadn't thought her capable of. "Do you love her?" she audaciously poses.
"That's a ridiculous question. Of course I do."
"And do you tell her and show her on a regular basis?"
As Snow asks the subsequent questions, Regina begins to understand what she is getting at. It is the very same point that Red makes whenever she is feeling sorry for herself or especially inadequate. When Snow bumps her elbow against Regina's and drawls, "well?", Regina answers her with a terse nod. "Every single day without fail."
"Then you are giving her all she needs," Snow then concludes, a gentle expression on her face. "All of that other stuff is meaningless to her. Believe or not, I struggled with the same feeling of indebtedness that you do, so I understand what that's like." Regina stares at her dubiously. "I'm being serious! When I met Red, I was a sheltered princess with little to no survival skills. She had just lost everything and was in mourning, but she still took me under her wing, taught me how to fish, to hunt, to cook, to forage, to track, to shoot, and how to be on alert at all times. Without Red, I would have died to exposure or starvation or some wild animal long before you ever had a chance to finish me off. And you know what? She never once asked me for anything in return. All she ever needed was my friendship, and I have to confess that bargain never felt equitable to me. My tutors drilled it into me that any good trade benefits both parties, and it just seemed to me like I was getting everything while she was giving everything."
Reaching out, Snow lays a hand on Regina's forearm, and to her confusion, Regina does not feel like batting it away. Instead it feels welcome, her words reassuring, because they have something in common now beyond the painful tragedy of Daniel's death. Red's essence lingers between them, so that while absent in body she is present in spirit. Her soothing influence tempers the hurt of old wounds so that Regina is finally able to see the extraordinary human being that has always existed behind the intolerable mooncalf she'd once believed Snow incapable of molting.
She doesn't like how it feels at first to finally lose the last vestiges of her grip on her hatred for Snow White. It has been her constant companion for over a decade, and it is very difficult to cope without it's familiarity lurking in the shadows of her mind and in her heart. But in the light of Snow's confession, it has faded into a barely recognizable blip of darkness, and no matter how hard she tries, she cannot seem to muster it again. With an unbearable pressure building within her chest, she listens as Snow continues to speak.
"So believe me when I say that I've been there. I had to learn that with Red, it isn't about what she deserves or what I can give to her that is of equal value to her love and friendship and loyalty. It's about accepting her gifts for what they are: something beautiful and precious, something to be treasured and never taken for granted. Her love alone is a priceless gift for which I am eternally grateful. In the end, all she has ever needed from either of us is to love her back. So, just keep doing that and the scales will remain balanced so far as she is concerned."
The thick lump in Regina's throat makes it difficult to swallow. The last thing she expected was to receive sage relationship advice from her former step-daughter. This is the same girl she'd once help pick out dresses for upcoming galas and whose hair she'd grudgingly braided before bed. One who had trouble making friends because of who she was and turned instead to her new step-mother for an ear to listen and a shoulder to lean on.
Ten year old Snow had been the bane of her existence, and yet her relentless optimism and almost impossible innocence made it difficult to say no. Even when she'd been dying to wrap her hands around the pale column of a throat just begging to be squeezed. So she'd played the doting step-mother as best she'd known how without alerting anyone as to her true feelings. Those unheralded duties included such indignities as teaching a blossoming teenage beauty how to navigate the many trials and discomforts of womanhood along with the complex social interactions between female peers of the nobility. She was also forced to advise her charge how to politely engage members of the opposite sex in whom her interest was piqued. When Snow's friendships failed, it was Regina who encouraged her to get back on the horse. And when the young princess experienced her first heartbreak when a crush went awry, Regina was the one who picked up the pieces and put them back together again.
How had it come to this, then? Where Snow, who just turned twenty-six, is doling out wisdom about love to a woman in her early forties? It's the height of absurdity. And yet Regina cannot help but appreciate the nugget of pure gold she's been given. Whether she'd already known this deep down is irrelevant. She needed to hear someone else say it, someone outside of her circle of friends, acquaintances, and lackeys who had no reason to be kind enough to offer such valuable feedback.
"I'll try to keep that in mind," she says, voice tighter with emotion than she would have preferred when expressing gratitude to a woman she'd once loathed with every fiber of her being. "Thank you, Snow. Not just for the unexpectedly good advice, but for being here. I sincerely appreciate it."
The smile that overtakes the diminutive, raven-haired Queen is nothing short of rapturous. It's as if that simple admission split open up the skies so that the heavens themselves were revealed. Regina purses her lips against the urge to sneer derisively, though quite against her will, her left eyelid begins to twitch. It galls her to no end that she's given Snow even the barest modicum of hope that their critically fractured relationship might one day be repaired.
"You're welcome!" Snow's reply is as effusive as her expression. That is to say, sickeningly so. "Wow. It felt so nice to hear you say that."
Feeling her mood sour, Regina grits her teeth together until her jaw aches. She needs to dispel the foolish notion immediately. "Don't get used to it. I was merely having a moment. A minor lapse in judgment, if you will."
The deflection does not phase Snow at all. "Sure, Regina, whatever you say," she chirps, continuing to beam at Regina, all disgustingly dopey just like she'd done during those early days and months after they first met. Rainbows and unicorns dance in her green eyes and Regina can almost hear the angelic chorus serenading in Snow's deluded little brain. She bites back the urge to vomit. Or issue death threats. Or light something on fire. Or all of the above in no certain order.
"Must you always be such an insufferable twerp?" she snaps, having gone surly now. She stands abruptly, dusts off the seat of her breeches, and walks away.
Snow scoffs, then rises to follow suit. Her previous joy fades precipitously with every second. A minor victory to be sure, but Regina will take it.
"Won't you ever stop being a royal pain in the ass who can't let go of the past?"
Snow's rejoinder is almost as biting as Regina's had been. She's impressed. Seven years ago, such an impudent response would have never been save by the tip of a sword or with the protection of a nocked arrow aimed square at Regina's blackened heart. In the years since they last saw each other at the wedding, Snow has grown a spine. Perhaps ruling has afforded her an audaciousness that a life on the run as an outlaw could not.
However highly she regards Snow's reciprocal sarcasm, she is rapidly approaching her limits on enduring her defiance. She stops cold and whirls on her former arch nemesis, glaring daggers with her lips drawn into a grim line that screams out a warning not to test her patience.
"I don't see what our sordid history has to do with your present infantile behavior."
Snow crosses her arms over her chest defensively and digs her heels into the rocky soil. "It's really simple. If you can't let go of the past, I don't see any reason I have to stop being a twerp."
Regina's expression turns icy. It's time for the discussion to end before things are said that cannot be unsaid or things done that cannot be undone, neither of which Regina cannot afford to happen. Not when she still needs Snow to open the gates that guard the Sacred Grove.
"You know what?" she says, making sure to put as much sarcastic bite into her tone as possible. "I'm done with this conversation. We've wasted enough time yammering. I would like to be in the Emerald City before next week." With that, she turns away and begins striding toward Lucas, who is grazing a dozen or so feet up from the bank, just inside the tree line where the grass still grows.
"Oh, for pity's sake," she hears Snow call from behind. "Go ahead. Go on and run. Run away from the truth all you want. You'll get tired eventually."
Regina doesn't slow her pace as she shoots a taunting smirk over her shoulder. "I wouldn't count on that. Red keeps me in tip-top shape these days."
The childish growl of frustration Snow unleashes sounds the inspirational note by which a much more chipper Regina can set the pace for the rest of their journey.