Kingdom of Covarrachia

Mourning Dale Palace

Present Day

Twenty minutes after being escorted out of the queen's bedchamber so that the midwives could examine her, Robin returns to the room and immediately steps to her side. Taking her hand, he guides his wife through her current contraction before turning his attention to Beatrice and Aradia.

Beatrice nods. "I'm sure you don't need to be told, but this is definitely not false labor."

To avoid usage of the biting sarcasm that rests precariously on the tip of his tongue, Robin busies himself with kissing Regina's temple and straightening her bed linens. "You want to pack up and go home? You say the word, and I'll open a portal right now."

Regina gives it two seconds thought before she touches her own belly and shakes her head resolutely. "Not with the way she's been behaving. If I try to take her through a portal right now, I have no idea where we might end up. For all I know, she might even try to separate herself from me. We're better off here. At least here we have some control over the situation. If we try to go home, and we lose her…"

"Okay, scratch that idea. We'll stay right here."

"Robin, could you…"

"What is it, love? Anything. You just ask."

Regina turns abruptly to Aradia, temporarily distracted by a sudden thought. "Why did you ask for the guard?"

Aradia and Beatrice share a silent look before coming to a decision.

"I wish that this could wait for a more convenient time, but you need to know that the onset of your labor has not come about naturally."

Adjusting a pillow behind her back, Robin stops abruptly and offers the midwives his full attention. Instantly stressed, he takes Regina's hand in his and forces himself to remain calm as he declares tersely, "You're going to have to explain that statement."

Aradia looks them both in the eye and delivers the news plainly. "It was in the tea the Chef provided. Regina has been, not so much poisoned, as dosed with a high concentration of herbs that no pregnant women, much less one in the final trimester of pregnancy should be exposed to. Many women make the mistake of substituting herbal tea for coffee during pregnancy as a way to lessen their caffeine intake. In the first place, herbal teas are not always caffeine free. In the second, a wide variety of herbs can and, have been, used throughout history to strengthen labor contractions, or in some cases, even used to bring about the onset of pre-term labor."

Robin's face is suddenly ashen, and for just ½ a second, Regina looks terrified before rapidly moving on to a white-hot rage that seems to fill the space around her with a nearly blinding hostility.

"You're saying someone did this." Regina hisses darkly.

Aradia nods gravely.

"Deliberately?" Robin demands.

She nods again. "I'm afraid so, yes. Out of respect for all of you, I've made it a point not to invade people's private space or their thoughts. In retrospect, perhaps I should have. Regina, I presumed that if your labor started earlier than predicted, it would be because of some physical or emotional trauma. It did not occur to me that one among our numbers would commit such treachery. Perhaps I was distracted by the recent discovery of my granddaughter, but even if I had I known, all I could've done would have been to help you deal with the aftermath of his actions. It may be possible for us to stall your labor, if we can put a stop to these contraptions before your waters break."

Regina tosses her blankets aside and attempts to rise from her bed, but numb as he is with shock, Robin is still quick enough to block her path. Placing a hand flat on the mattress on either side of her body, he holds her in place and shakes his head fervently.

"Robin, move!" She growls ominously.

He resolutely shakes his head again. "Where do you think you're going?"

Regina glares hideously. "I'm going to personally incinerate the bastard!"

"Later. You have more important things to focus on just now."

Drummond steps forward from his self-appointed post at the doorway of the queen's bedchamber. "Majesty…" He bows, "You must rest, however little you can. You are going to need your strength for something far more vital. The archer's place is here beside you. Allow me to assume responsibility for the turncoat. I will not disappoint either of you."

He waits for Regina to nod in reluctant agreement before turning his attention to Aradia and Beatrice. "You're certain the chef is the one responsible?"

Aradia nods solemnly. "There is no doubt. It's not something he advertises, but he is a devout supporter of Nottingham's. His intent was not only to harm the queen, but the child as well. The young maid who came to fetch you, she meant no harm, but earlier this evening while performing her duties in the kitchens, she mentioned that pregnancy has taken its toll on the queen's ability to wield magic. The chef, Danes, he rather stupidly assumed that meant that Her Majesty is temporarily lacking any magical ability. He decided to take advantage of what he saw as a prime opportunity. It was not accidental. He did what he did with complete and total malice of forethought."

Drummond nods. "I see, and the maid? You're certain she is blameless?"

"Entirely. She's in awe of magic and all those who wield it. Not to mention, she's quite reverent of the princess. Norah has made quite the impression on her. I'm confident she would do nothing to harm her or the queen."

"The chef, has he any cohorts in the palace?"

"I've been searching the minds of everyone within the palace since I discovered his deception. I have found a few people who are uncomfortable with the queen's presence. Some of them are very uncomfortable. But I found no one else here whose personal thoughts or intents rise to the level of treason."

The blonde guard turns to Regina once more. "With your permission, I shall personally escort him to the dungeons. If you wish it, you can deal with him when you are able, Your Grace."

Regina is a breath away from verbally issuing the chef's death warrant when Robin shakes his head.

"That's not good enough!" He declares, his voice as hard and unyielding as stone. "I want him out of this house at once! He is not to remain in this palace with my wife and child. Not even in the dungeons. I do not care if he is under lock and key. He will be removed immediately. You can take your pick from any of my men who wish to join you. I don't care how you do it, but I trust, sir that you will make certain he has no chance of return."

Drummond waits for Regina to nod her hesitant approval of Robin's plan. When she does, he steps out into the hallway momentarily and seizes the arm of his nearest brother in arms. Positioning the young guard in his place, he orders, "You stand here. You do not leave this spot." He points to Aradia. You take your orders from her, and only her. No one, and I mean no one, enters this room without her express approval!"

"Yes, Lieutenant!" The young man snaps to attention.

Before Drummond is more than three steps away, Aradia calls him back. "Lieutenant?"

In less than two seconds, he steps back into the room. "Yes."

"I'm normally under obligation to be elsewhere between the hours of midnight and sunrise. However, I don't think I'm going to be meeting that obligation tonight."

Beatrice frowns with concern. "Won't that get you into trouble, Aradia?"

Aradia shrugs. "What is Zeus going to do? Exile me from Olympus? For what; helping to bring a child into the world? Besides, he's already done that."

Robin speaks up. "Aradia, we do need you here, but we don't wish to get any one of our allies into trouble."

She waves his comment aside. "Sure, Zeus can ground me, or bind my godly powers. If he does, I can live with that. I'm betting he won't though; not when that child in question is related to him, no matter how loosely. He's a sucker for family. Which leads me to the reason I called you back, Lieutenant. If it's alright with the queen and her husband, let me have Danes for the night. I will send him in my stead. Something tells me Zeus will get a kick out of that. Plus, Danes might learn a little something about what happens to foolish mortals who anger the gods. If I'm wrong, if he's too thick-headed to learn, you can have him back at sunrise to do with as you wish."

Husband and wife exchange a look before Regina says, "Sure, go for it! If you want to drop him on an asteroid that's on a collision course with the sun, we won't. object."

For one protracted moment, Aradia looks as if she is giving the suggestion due consideration. Then she blinks. "I'm not going to kill him. Frankly, it's too easy. I will, however, fix it so that he cannot cause further problems tonight - for anyone. Whatever you decide to do with him at a later date, is entirely your decision."

Robin waits for her to act. When absolutely nothing appears to happen, he asks, "Do you need to step out?"

Aradia chuckles lightly. "Of course not. It is done."

Robin squints. "It is? Just like that? Without some ostentatious display of power?"

Aradia sighs drolly. "Robin, we gods may all be related. However, not all of us have a compulsive need to walk around with their heads on fire just to prove how powerful we are."

Regina laughs merrily even as she chokes on the pain of a new contraction. Between clenched teeth, she hisses. "Don't let your granddaughter hear you say that. She will take offense."

Robin offers her his hand to hold as Aradia steps back around to the other side of the bed. "Yes, she would, but that's not important right now." She studies her patient and then turns to Beatrice. "We need to hurry. Her contractions are getting stronger by the minute."

Beatrice lays curious hands on Regina's abdomen and her eyes widen dramatically. "The baby is extremely active."

Aradia nods. "Yes. She's agitated. Our little one is not at all happy about this situation. Her peaceful existence has been disturbed."

With only the slightest prompting, Beatrice eases Regina onto her left side "I'd best get started on a tincture to see if we can reverse the effects of the tea."

Regina scowls. "Ingesting something I shouldn't have is what got me into this. Now you want me to take in something else to make it stop?"

Beatrice winces slightly but remains steady. "Those are the options at this point. We will try to reverse the effects of the tea medicinally. If we can do that before your water breaks, we can stall Norah's delivery, or maybe even stop it so that it will occur at its intended time. If all we can do me a stall her delivery, even for a few hours, we may at least be able to calm her. That will make things easier for the both of you."

Aradia offers, "Our options, here in this realm, are limited, as you know, and so is the time available to us. We must hurry."

Regina gives her a hard stare. "Can't you do something – I mean you personally."

"There are things that even the gods cannot do, and this is one of them. The cause of your problem is not divine. Therefore, I'm only allowed to do what any mortal can do. I cannot use my divine powers to remedy a matter brought about by mortal hands. We gods aren't supposed to interfere with free will. That's rarely ever done and, on the rare occasion that it does happen, it's always done by a god with hands more powerful than mine. "I'm here through, Regina, and I'm not going anywhere. I will do all I can. You have my word."

Regina grimaces, thoroughly unsatisfied with the answer she's just received, but the complaint she's about to issue is lost in the sudden cry of pain that escapes her.

Robin holds her hand and murmurs soothingly as the contraction bites down hard.

Unwilling to trust any one of the kitchen staff with the necessary task, Aradia hurries from the room. As she departs, leaving Beatrice to watch over Regina, she commandeers the young knight that Lieutenant Drummond appointed to stand guard. "You're coming with me."

The young man looks confused as his gaze swivels between the goddess and the knight he would normally take his orders from. "But the lieutenant…"

Aradia cuts him off. "Now that he's staying, the lieutenant is perfectly capable of manning his own post. You are coming with me!"

Drummond nods wordlessly and the young knight must run to keep from falling when Aradia clenches her fist around his arm and pulls him along behind her.

High above the turmoil brewing inside Mourning Dale palace, the illicit and terrorized chef struggles wildly against unseen bonds that he does not understand. Though his eyes cannot perceive them, his body is, nonetheless, lashed to the night sky. He fights captivity and screams with all his might until he makes the unfortunate mistake of looking down.

Realizing where he is, he looks around frantically, experiencing both clarity and disbelief in the same instant. He shakes his head quite madly and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to black out all that he sees.

His head is the only part of his body that he seems to have any control over. Despite colossal effort on his part, nothing else moves. When he opens his eyes in response to a flash of light that would've been blinding had they been opened, he screams again and nearly swoons from terror when he finds a broad-shouldered male figure in possession of both, a full beard and a dark curly shoulder-length mane of hair, patiently striding back and forth in front of him. He moves freely as though he hasn't a single care and stands on absolutely nothing at all. When the being speaks, Chef Danes does pass out.

Several minutes later, he jumps back into consciousness and the struggle against his invisible bonds starts anew but he gives up more quickly this time, and his voice trembles badly when he asks the now seated being in front of him, "W-W-what are you?"

That being with prominent Grecian features makes a soft noise, indicating amusement. "What makes you so sure I am a 'what' and the not a 'who?"

The chef's voice continues to tremble violently. "You m-must be. No human can do this."

"Do what?"

"Be here… Just hanging in the night sky… as if he were a star."

"You're here. You're human. Aren't you?"

"But I can't move. I've been taken prisoner by someone or something. Was it you?" He sneers with hostility even as he feels another tremble roll invisibly through his body. "What are you going to do to me?"

"I'm not going to do anything to you. It was not I who put you here. You put yourself here, or rather, your actions put you here. Though it is quite clear you have angered one of my kin."

"One of your kin? Someone in your family did this to me?"

"it would seem so. You are quite right. No human has the power to do this. I am Zeus. Father of the sky and supreme ruler of Olympus."

Feigning disinterest, the chef cries out, "Well, bully for you! You'll have to excuse me if I don't shake your hand."

Zeus shrugs as if his hostility is of no concern.

Danes waits for something to happen. When nothing does, he demands, "Look, if you didn't put me here, and you're not going to hurt me, then can you get me down from here?"

Zeus nods, but nothing more.

"Well, come on then!"

"Smug bastard, aren't you? The god pauses for effect while Danes stares at him incredulously.

"No 'please help me.' No, 'thanks for stopping by.' Here you are so frightened that you've soiled yourself, and still you make demands."

Zeus rises to his feet and strides away, the sight of him fading from view as thunder rumbles and lightning flashes in the darkened sky perilously close to the man in the invisible shackles.

"W- Wait! C- Come back, please! Don't leave me here!" as Zeus all but disappears from sight, he pleads, "At least tell me how I came to be here?"

In the next instant, lightning flashes again and Zeus' angry face materializes a breath away from the chef's tortured countenance.

Their noses nearly touching, Zeus shouts above the torrents of rainwater that come with him. "You have angered the wrong redheaded goddess. She's supposed to be here now. It would seem that she sent you in her place. You're lucky she didn't kill you." Zeus drops his voice to an ominous whisper. "That's what she did to the last mortal who displeased her."

"Will she release me."

Zeus shrugs. "Being trapped here in the heavens between the hours of midnight and sunrise is her punishment for that unfortunate act. My guess is she will release you at dawn. Unless of course that little witch whose mother you've tried to annihilate tonight isn't born yet. If not, you may spend the day here as well. The night is generally much more pleasant. I'm afraid the sun can be rather unforgiving at this altitude. Even if the child is born before sunrise, I don't envy you having to return to face her parents. Even the calmest of parents can become lethal when their young are threatened. The outcome has yet to be determined but, If I were you, I would stop making demands and spend my time here praying that you are successful. If your efforts are thwarted – well, Queen Regina can be quite volatile even under the best of circumstances. You may come to believe that being trapped here wasn't so bad after all. You may even relish the idea of a return to the night sky."

Danes squeezes his eyes shut against the pelting rain. Lightning rips the sky, setting the stars on fire and thunder echoes through the heavens; laughing at him. When he opens his eyes, he is still tethered to the same place. Rain falls, the wind whips around him; tearing at his soaked clothing and if he could move at all, he would tremble violently from the cold night air that seems to envelop him and chill him to the bone. Zeus is nowhere to be seen.

He hangs there interminably. On the rare occasion that he dares to look down at the earth below, he always wishes he hadn't, because every time he does, he sees things he does not wish to see. The insomniacs of the realm toss, turn, and pace relentlessly. People wake screaming in the night from nightmares he knows nothing of. He sees enemies fighting, and he knows their hatred. He sees acts of passion between lovers that leave him breathless and nearly sick with envy. He sees people lying, crying, cheating, stealing, and doing secret things that most of them wouldn't dare to do in the light of day. He sees people lost in peaceful slumber and despises them for their peace of mind. He sees strangers. He sees friends, and even family, doing things that he is not free to do. The worst part is that he sees all of it with absolute clarity. Nothing is hidden. It defies logic. As he has aged, his eyesight has begun to lose some of its sharpness. Yet, he misses nothing. It's as if he has a front row seat. Even things that happen indoors are not hidden from him despite the lofty altitude of his current prison and, although he does not want to see, he cannot deny the compulsion to look. Ironically, what angers him most are the compassionate actions of one innocent, but very determined small boy.

Storybrooke

Present Day

Sweating, and breathless, six-year-old Roland Locksley wakes with a start and sits up suddenly on the inflatable mattress at the foot of Henry's bed. Emma and Hook do have a guest room, and they have very kindly offered it to him, but he prefers to stay near Henry in the absence of his parents. Especially since the bad dreams won't go away. Everybody says that he's only having bad dreams because he misses his parents and he's worried about them. Roland wishes the grownups would listen to him. He knows something bad is going to happen. He's known it since the first night they were away.

In the darkness, he slides off the mattress and approaches the larger bed in the room. With renewed determination, he shakes Henry awake.

"Henry!" Roland whispers loudly. "Henry. Come on, Henry wake up!"

Henry grunts softly as he reaches out. Without opening his eyes, he clumsily pats the top of the smaller boy's head. "What's wrong, Ro? Did you have another bad dream?"

When Roland nods, murmuring in the affirmative, Henry sits up and rips the lower end of the blankets free from beneath his mattress. Picking Roland up, he settles him on the opposite end of the bed, before he places his spare pillow against the footboard and gently pushes the boy's head down against it.

"You can bunk with me if you go back to sleep." Henry covers him up and tries to lay back down, eager to return to sleep.

Exasperated, Roland shakes his head. "Henry, you gotta listen, because none of the big people will. They think I don't know nothin' just 'cause I'm a little kid!"

Henry sighs. "They aren't just ignoring you, Roland. Adults just know more stuff than the kids do. You will too, when you're big. It's just a bad dream. Try to go back to sleep, okay? You'll see. Your dad and my mom will be home before you know it, and everything will be just fine."

Roland growls in frustration and throws his borrowed pillow at his brother's face. "Everything is not just fine! Do you want our sister or not? Do you want Regina to come back?" It's not okay Henry! It's bad! It's really, really bad!" he lowers his voice to a whisper as he presses his fists against his eyes to keep the tears away. He whispers because the words are too scary to say in a loud voice. "I think Regina is going to die, Henry. There's blood - too much blood; and nobody's listening! Regina needs our help!" He yanks the blankets from his brother's bed and tosses them to the floor the instant before he jumps down. "If nobody wants to listen, if nobody wants to help me, that's okay! I'll go by myself!"

Henry groans as he sits up again. It takes a second longer for his brain to process the words his ears have already heard - I think Regina's going to die.

"Roland, what was that you said about blood? Hey, slow down little guy! Wait up! I'm coming!"

"I'm not slowing down! If you're coming, you hurry up! We have to go get Frankenstein. He's going with us!"