For Zoe... I'm sorry I made you write more than you intended with Knocking Hips, I hope this makes up for it xD
Have some Missing Year, Enchanted Forest Christmas fluff!
"What are you doing, majesty?" a boy's voice asks from below, and Regina turns from her task of hanging mistletoe in the entrance to the castle library to find little Roland staring up at her with wide eyes.
"I'm setting up Christmas," she tells him, knowing exactly what question is coming next.
"What's Christmas?"
"Well," she begins, smiling as she climbs down from the stool she had used to boost herself up and settling on the floor, letting the boy sit on her lap as she speaks and cards her fingers through his curls, "it's a holiday from where I'm… where my son is from. There's snow and cookies and hot cocoa, and a giant tree that you can decorate with lights and baubles and shiny things, and then if you've been a good boy, a very nice old man in a red suit comes by while you sleep and leaves you presents."
Roland's eyes widen comically at the mention of presents, and then he's off her lap and skipping around the library, yapping excitedly about what he'd like his presents to be. He pauses for a moment, though, and stares at her.
"Wait, you said Christmas is from that other world."
"It is."
"And the other day you told Papa that world is closed."
"Yes…" she replies slowly, confused by his reasoning.
"How will I get presents from the nice old man if his world is closed?!"
"Oh, no need to worry about that. Santa, that's his name," she clarifies when he scrunches up his nose at her in question, "he has very special magic, he can get to every world."
"So how come he's never given me presents before? Have I been bad?" he's sad now, she can see that lower lip sticking out at the possibility of not receiving anything from Santa.
"No, you've been a very good boy, Roland, but you didn't know about Santa until now, so you've never written him a letter, have you?"
He shakes his head.
"Well, then how will Santa know what to get you? Come on, help me decorate the tree and then we can write him your letter," she smiles at his excitement as he holds on tightly to her hand and they walk towards the far corner of the library, where a shelf has been removed to make room for the gigantic pine tree she had David cut down the day before. It sits there, ready to be doused in lights and ornaments. She hadn't wanted to celebrate Christmas, had wanted every reminder of Henry to stay locked up in her head where she could control them, but then Snow had commented on how much he'd enjoyed Christmas in Storybrooke growing up, and how much he'd be enjoying it now, in New York, and the pain Regina had felt over the realization that her son would be spending their favorite holiday with Emma this year while she remained alone in the Enchanted Forest crippled her, and she had needed something, anything, that would tether her to him. Christmas was their thing, and as much as she knew it would ultimately hurt to have all these decorations and mementos around her, she'd achieved what she'd wanted, she felt connected to Henry, and that was enough for now.
"Majesty, why were you hanging weeds by the door?" Roland asks her when she waves her hand and makes white lights appear on the tree.
"They're not weeds," she tells him with a chuckle, "it's mistletoe. It's a tradition for Christmas, when two people are standing under it, they have to kiss."
Suddenly, she scoops him up and moves towards the door, until the small cluster of leaves is directly above them, "like so," she says before she plants a series of kisses all over his face, and Roland giggles and tries to move his head away from her, but then he's planting a sloppy, wet kiss on her cheek as well, and for the first time since her return to the Enchanted Forest, Regina feels joy. She laughs lightly, putting Roland back down on the floor, only to see him go up again when two strong arms swoop in and grab him by the waist, making him fly up and into his father's chest.
"What's this?!" he asks his son, and Regina is distracted by the sound of his voice, so velvety and soft that she can almost feel it caressing her skin.
"It's a whistle-y-toe!" he says excitedly, and Regina snickers softly, gently corrects his pronunciation of the word, and smiles as Roland goes on to explain Christmas to his father, who seems completely engrossed in the tale, but takes a few seconds to sneak amused glances at Regina.
"And what exactly is the mistletoe for, then, if you already have a tree?" he asks his son, genuine curiosity marking his features.
"Kisses! You have to kiss majesty now because you're both under it, see? It's tradition!" he says, pointing upwards.
"No, no, that's fine," Regina hurries, stepping away from the cocoon they seem to have immersed themselves in.
"Oh, but it's tradition," Robin quips, and she can feel that traitorous blush showing up on her cheeks. Loathe as she is to admit it, the attraction between them has grown since they met in the forest upon their arrival, and she feels that attraction creeping in now, when the possibility of feeling his lips on hers has presented itself.
He surprises her, though, by merely taking her hand and planting a chaste kiss on it, and then he looks into her eyes and tilts his head towards the oblivious little boy now perched on his hip. She understands immediately –that surprises her, too, the way they seem to be so in tune with each other despite the fact that they've practically only just met-, and then she grins mischievously when Roland holds her gaze and asks her what she's thinking.
They don't even have to count or tell each other when to pounce, they just do it, and the attack is in perfect sync, Robin's lips pressing loudly on one of his son's cheeks at the same time that Regina's land on the other, and Roland howls with laughter when his father tickles him where he's holding him. It feels as natural as breathing, for her to be here, enjoying Christmas with them, and that realization thrills and terrifies her all at the same time.
The moment is broken by Little John, who chortles as he walks into the library and takes in the strange décor. Roland wastes no time clambering down from his father's hold and jumping into John's arms, hands gesturing animatedly as he explains Christmas to him. John laughs at the boy's enthusiasm, and then tells him hot cocoa –Roland mentions it more than once during his ramblings- sounds like a grand idea, and coaxes him out of the library to go beg Granny to make some for them, leaving Robin and Regina alone in the vast chamber, staring at the lights on the tree.
"How does it work?" he asks of the lights as he moves closer to them, and Regina tries to explain electricity to him as best she can, then adds "none of that is possible here, though, so it's just my magic this time."
He smiles, shakes his head and turns back to her, eyes sparkling, darkening slightly when she licks her lips nervously.
"So, this mistletoe thing, were you expecting to kiss someone?"
"Oh, not at all," she says with a chuckle, "I just found some out in the woods and figured I might as well use it. I'm starting to think twice about it, though, now that I realize Snow and Charming will probably take every opportunity to make eyes at each other and kiss under it. I don't think I have the stomach for that."
Robin laughs, tells her he agrees, and then moves closer to where she stands. He says nothing, merely stares at her, and at her whispered "what?" he sighs, leaning closer and placing a small wisp of a kiss on the corner of her mouth, his lips ghosting over hers. She's startled, more by the fact that she's letting him do this than she is by the fact that he's doing it, and then he pulls away and the way he's looking at her makes her breath catch.
"Christmas customs must be honored," he breathes, eyes sparkling. She frowns, because that can't be right, she's certain they've moved from under the mistletoe. And sure enough, when she looks up, the sprig is not above them, but rather far to the left of where they're standing. She turns to tell him as much, but never gets to say a word, as his lips land on hers fully this time. It's an innocent kiss, close-lipped, sweet and tender, meant to convey affection, not lust, though she can feel some of that too, in the heat of his skin when he moves his hands up and cups her face as he parts from her, his thumbs rubbing over her cheekbones as the rest of his fingers thread in the long locks she's taken to wearing down today, loose and tumbling over her shoulders.
"Happy Christmas, Regina," is all he says before he lets go of her and walks out of the room, leaving her to stare after him with a dazed smile on her face.