A/N: this is set in the Iridescence verse, but can be read as a stand alone. set in the missing year, a lil angsty.
Not What It Seems
"Oh, you are awake. Always nice of you to join me, sis."
Zelena's mocking voice rings in her ears, hostile, annoying. Regina lifts her head, slowly, taking in her surroundings. She is in a dungeon – lovely, all things considered, especially now that she was thinking a life without her sister's green obtuseness was even possible. Her wrists and ankles are chained, unsurprisingly, and she sighs, spotting that black cuff that has neared her own undoing once already, once upon a time near the docks.
"What do you want, Zelena?"
Her voice is tired, exhausted. There isn't fear, in her weak murmur. Maybe a hint of curiosity, to know how Greenie has managed to whisk her away from the woods she was in to this poor excuse of a dungeon. A subtle sense of guilt slithers in her mind, when she remembers of Roland and the story she has promised him this morning.
"Oh I thought we could have a little chat, at first," Zelena says, a glint of madness in her eyes. "But then I thought of the most exciting game for us! We are going to play a bit, dear sis," she whispers, leaning close to cup Regina's cheek.
Regina moves away, retreats towards the dirty wall, her midnight blue dress now splashed with mud and disgusting unidentified other amenities.
"Just do whatever you want to do and let's get over with it," she growls.
"You don't want to play a bit? That's a shame… but alas, I'm the elder sister, and I get to decide," Zelena replies, sickeningly sweet. "So have fun, little sis! I really hope you survive this so we can play again soon. You should have never gone to the forest alone – but you love the forest, don't you?" she gets closer, Regina can feel her breath against her skin. "Good luck!"
With a cackling laugh, she snaps her finger, and then Regina is engulfed in green smoke, and the dungeon disappears.
.:.
The Princess is at the balcony, when Robin enters the throne room. He reads concern on her features, her hand resting on her swollen belly. He can see the necklace around her neck – the gemstone he has helped to steal is hidden between her breasts, working, healing, its magic just another reminder of Regina's absence.
"I am sure she will return soon, Your Highness," he offers. Snow turns, with a grateful, teary smile.
"I know," she nods. "Still, I am worried. It's not unlikely, from her part, to be gone for such a long time, but I can't help but worry every time. Regina is… she doesn't love the company of others very much," she sighs. "I am sure you noticed."
"Indeed I did," he confirms. It is lovely, this concern the Princess has, but for once, he is not worried. Regina has been away for longer, and she's always come back to them (to him), with flowers and herbs and funny-looking stones for Roland. She will return. (She has to. He cannot imagine the alternative.) "But she knows how much we all care. She wouldn't put herself in danger on purpose."
"Yes," Snow agrees, her eyes still lingering on the green sea of the forest. "But there are dangers lurking –"
The door to the throne room slams open in that precise instant, cutting the Princess' words. The Prince enters, cheeks red and puffing breaths of excitement.
"A white doe!" he exclaims. "Young Jake spotted a white doe lingering where the woods begin, and – oh, this is such a rare vision! In my life I don't think I've ever seen a white doe in this kingdom."
"I heard that it is a lucky sign," Robin confirms. He takes a step to reach the balcony, in hopes to spot the doe himself. "And that the man who hunts her will bring good fortune to his family for a long time."
"Oh?" Snow's brow furrows, her eyes darting from her husband to Robin, confused. "You… you want to hunt the doe? Now?"
"Why yes, my darling," David answers, leans in to kiss her. "Before the first snow falls, she'll be easier to spot. I say we should go now, Robin," he tells him. "While we know she's still nearby the castle."
"Absolutely," Robin agrees. "Let me just grab my weapons, and we can go – I shall call to my men too."
As he goes to exit, he catches sight of David whispering to his wife, Don't worry, I am sure she is fine, she will be back soon. It's Regina, after all. Robin smiles, thinking of how annoyed Regina will be when she'll know of Snow's fretting behavior. He goes to kiss his son goodbye, and to retrieve his bow.
.:.
If she could cry, she would.
If she could sink to the ground and hug her knees and weep until morning, she'd do it in a heartbeat.
But she can't.
Instead, she runs.
The forest is blurry around her, spots of green and brown and black, the sky is white and bears promises of snow. Regina runs, runs for her life, already out of breath after too little time. Sounds and colors have changed – amplified, diminished, her heart pumping blood with an imperative strength she's never experienced before. It has to be early afternoon, but she doesn't know for sure – she is not certain of who she is, right now, as she runs, she roams titles in her mind – Regina, the Queen, mother (I was a mother, I was), mayor, friend, enemy, ally, lover (I was, I want to be again), Regina, wife (never again), prisoner, mother… daughter… sister.
Right now all impulses are dominating her mind.
Run.
Eat.
Sleep. (Later.)
Drink.
Escape.
The woods are home, comforting, but dangerous, potentially fatal. Death awaits around every corner, she sees danger and eyes everywhere, things that kill and wound, things that heal and grass and she – has – to – live, it's imperative, every single muscle and bone of her body is tensed towards it – living. Just another minute, just another hour.
The cuff claws at her skin, and Regina runs, the outskirts of the woods, the castle in sight. If she could just find someone. Anyone. Someone to help.
How cruel, to make sure that her mind would stay exactly the same, while she runs. How gentle it would have been, to made her die without memories of her life as Regina.
She hears them before she sees them.
It's a hunting party – four or five of them, with two dogs, and her body tenses towards them, hopeful. As if they're the solution to her riddle, her dilemma. They liberate the dogs, and just then she realizes how foolish she's been until now.
Her back turns, and she's never been more scared in her life.
She runs.
.:.
Being on a horse has always been a delight, in his life. From when he's been taught how to ride to the most recent escapades with the Queen, he has always enjoyed those moments of wind and speed, and today is no exception.
The Prince holds himself with the regal composure of a royal, his men are more practical, posture doesn't mean a thing when you can sacrifice it in exchange for velocity. Still, young Jake has the eyes of hawk as he spots, again, their prey between the trees. He's able to look at the doe for a long moment before she turns, becomes a white spot, smaller and smaller. David has freed the dogs, they start running like a couple of hellish beasts.
"I'd hide, if I were that doe," Alan laughs, as they ride towards the woods. "How about a bet, men?"
"What's the prize?" Jake asks, always eager to prove himself.
"Usually, the best hunter gets the finest cut of the animal's meat," David says, his voice almost lost in the wind. They reach the end of the clearing, the dogs' howling get closer. "Good luck, everyone," he says, with the finality of a general who cheers on his troops before battle.
They split, trying to surround the doe, Robin goes to the left, pushes his horse to an high pace. "Come on, my friend," he incites. He can see her – she is fast, but small, she can't compete with their horses' longer legs.
He has never liked hunting that much – not as much as the prince does, anyway, but it has been needed in these years, to provide food. The fact that this particular doe is such a rare specimen has its perks, but he mostly agreed to participate just to distract himself from the thoughts of Regina.
Before the Queen's image can distract him, he focuses. The last thing he needs now, is to be impaled by an arrow because he couldn't keep up with the group.
The doe is closer, now, and he can see his companions too. They have indeed managed to surround her, all skilled hunters that they are. The dogs have stopped at the Prince's command, they are tense and ready to spring into action at any moment now. Robin slows down, his horse comprehends the depth of this moment – the most important, where they cannot frighten the animal.
His men are more distant – he is, probably, the closest one, so he dismounts, his bow ready in his hand, an arrow ready between his fingers. The doe is still, her eyes wide and terrified as he walks slowly towards her. He knows that if she escapes, one of the others could easily capture her, but all odds show that he will, most likely, be the one who gets the prize.
He glares at a quick movement of her ear, a quick twitch of her leg, but she's still. Weirdly so. He doesn't make noise as he approaches his prey. Oh, you are so beautiful, he thinks. The white of her fur is fascinating – he has always known these white creatures to live in colder climates, in Arendelle perhaps.
Robin throws a rapid glace at David, who nods. He needs to do this, now, or he will lose his chance. Still… there is something unnerving about this animal. The way she watches him. He has never seen such wisdom in an animal's eyes.
He readies the arrow on his bow. Lifts it, inhales, exhales, inhales. Old simple rules for archery. Breathe. He is one instant away from releasing the arrow, when the something happens.
The doe bows at him.
She sinks to her knees, her head going slowly down, a spot of immaculate white on autumn grass. Robin holds his breath. His arrow doesn't leave his hand.
He feels the first snowflake twirl and rest on his skin. The first snow has come, finally.
And then, in a heartbeat, the world is completely still. The men surrounding the doe, Robin with his bow still lifted to kill, and the doe who watches him with brown eyes.
He has seen that brown before.
Hell gets loose, when the moment breaks, and suddenly there is noise, there is the painful wail of the doe, and Robin hears himself scream No!, but it's too late. A second too late. Young Jake is impulsive, and he has indeed done what Robin couldn't. And now his arrow protrudes from the doe's side – he hasn't got to her heart, thankfully. But she falls, and her head hits the whitening ground.
Then, there is a green, vicious smoke that surrounds her, slow, painful, and he lets his bow fall to the ground at the sight that meets him, when the smoke clears.
Regina.
She's on the ground, on the exact spot where the doe was, her blue dress pierced by Jake's arrow just above her hip. She's breathing slowly, raven hair splayed around, already punctuated by white spots of ice.
He's never run faster. He reaches her in two breaths, sinks to the ground next to her, his hand palms her wound and when he lifts it, it's covered in blood.
"Regina," his voice cracks, her head turns, a ghost of a smile and a tear falling from her eyes.
"Robin?"
He's only partially aware of the voices and bodies that surround them, of David kneeling at their side, of Jake's screams. He's only aware of the woman lying beside him, who's holding on to his hand and crying her fear and desperation. He could easily succumb to his worry too, but instead, he cradles her head, whispers.
"You're going to be alright, milady," he tells her, encouraging. "You just have to heal yourself…"
"I – I'm not," she spouts the words with great difficulty, clenches her hand around his. "Don't – magic," she breathes, her ability to speak deeply impaired.
He doesn't understand – she doesn't have magic, he doesn't want to understand, because a world without Regina in it is a world he has no interest in, how, why doesn't she have magic?
David is frowning, next to him, he's taken hold of her other hand, muttering something, but Robin doesn't listen. He keeps her close, wipes away her tears, careful not to jostle the arrow still in her skin. He's vaguely aware of the snow, the timid flakes on the ground, and he sees David take his stiletto, and instinct kicks in.
"What are you doing?" he protests, enraged. He can't believe that the heroic prince would even consider the possibility of ending her sufferings with a single move, there has to be a way…
"Calm down," David answers, lifts her hand, the one that Robin is not holding. He spies Regina nod, something akin to relief in her eyes. He watches, fascinated, as David slides the stiletto's blade between her wrist and a black cuff there, a cuff he's never seen, but clearly, the prince has already. The cuff falls to the ground with a swirl of green smoke.
"Heal yourself," Robin pleads, now that it is clear that her magic has returned. She blinks once, slowly, a cough bringing blood to her lips. He does not care, he lowers his head and presses a kiss to her forehead. "Please," he tells her.
Tears are still glistening in her eyes as he lifts her hand to the wound. "This will hurt a bit, I am sorry," he apologizes. She nods, bites her lip, he curls his hand around the arrow. In a swift jerk, it comes out, Regina screams her pain to the sky. He squeezes her hand, presses it above the cut – he prays she knows of healing magic. The world stills as grey, luminescent light sprouts from her fingertips, he continues to hold her, keeps her hand in place and waits, her breaths more labored and tired as that little energy she had goes into the healing.
When the light subsides, she takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and leans on him, spent. Now, it's finally his turn to let go of his emotions. They'd been so close… He'd been so close to losing her.
"Oh, Regina," he murmurs against her hair. "I'm so sorry."
"I was so scared," she whispers. Her hand tightens on his, his heart clenches. "My sister…"
"I know, darling, I know," he tells her. "I should have been more careful, I should have come and search for you…"
He feels her cry quietly, and it breaks him. He shifts slightly, to shield her from the others, but thankfully, they leave them space, they leave them be. Snow falls around them, the world becomes white, but he's calmer now. She will heal. She will be alright.
He hears David speak about someone going back to retrieve a carriage, about other useless matters that don't concern him – as long as he can feel her warmth and her breaths – Regina shivers, and it occurs to him that she must be cold, she is in need of a bed and of rest, so he speaks.
"She can ride with me," he decides. She nods, her eyes still closed, he knows she's growing more tired every moment. But then, it doesn't matter. She is alive, and they will defeat her sister. For now, he rejoices that she is safe. The rest, it is for tomorrow.
