third entry for the OQ prompt party, wednesday.
54. dark!oq finding and taking in an abandoned baby.

this is a second part to chapter 40 of this collection, if you want.


Though my soul may set in darkness

... it will rise in perfect light.

.

.

It's a cold night – the coldest of the year, probably, and Regina is not too fond of her castle right now. It's just that the walls and floors are freezing, and even if she drained her magic she couldn't possibly warm it up entirely. Snow falls slowly, outside, and the forest looks like a winter wonderland – still has a little snowman in a corner of the courtyard, and baby-hobbit-sized footprints where Roland has strolled around.

Robin was wonderful, this afternoon. She's watched from a window, sitting – her belly has become too large to even think about snow angels, or just… bundling up and going to play. She was happy to watch them – almost-father and almost-son, sharing a bond that's entirely theirs, a bond they've created from the roots the first Robin left them.

But she is tired, now, and they've all moved downstairs, because she dreads the thought of stairs and the like, so they've just taken up a room on the ground floor and moved there, where a crib already awaits, empty.

She can't sleep – the baby is dancing, tonight, really, and she didn't want to disturb Robin or Roland, so she got up and in the kitchen, and made herself some hot water with herbs. She's almost dozing off, hand curled around the mug, when she feels something. A shadow, on the window, and then it goes.

A prickling feeling of danger creeps up her spine and she lifts up, too slowly, too wobbly, by the time she gets to the window the shadow is gone.

A small fire curls up in her hand as she exits the kitchen. She shouldn't use magic, not really, because of the baby, but if something threatens her family, she wants to know. So she walks, down the corridor and follows the windows and the trail she has – of fresh footprints, and Regina gets to the main gate with the shadow, who must be quick but with a weight on them.

By the time she opens the gate, the main door, the shadow is gone. She looks out – right, left, even tries to spot anyone hiding up a tree, but… there's no one. She's without a cloak, so she's about to close the door and brush it off, to extinguish the fire, but then she hears the faint crying. The flame pops out of her hand to become a light globe, suspended in the air.

Looks down, and there it is. A wooden basket, with a baby inside – a newborn, she thinks, it must be, it's so… small. She crouches down, slowly, carefully, and her hand cups the baby's cheek, as she looks around to see if she can spot the mysterious someone who left the baby.

There's no one in sight.

They clearly knew what they were doing, when they left the basket there – they knew she lives there, they knew she's taking care of Roland? Who she is? Maybe, that she's pregnant and could be more easily convinced to take this baby in?

She knows – because she's a parent – that the cloaked someone is still watching. There's no eye in sight, though, but they're still there, waiting to see if she will bring the baby in.

Her gaze falls again on the small child at her feet. Finally calm, now that it senses a warm hand on their skin, the baby looks at her with wide green eyes. Only now she notices the envelope at its feet – blurred lines on the paper, words she can't read properly in this weak light.

"Alright then," she sighs. "Let's get you inside, darling."

;

Robin is a light sleeper, and this time he makes no exception. She just has to gently squeeze his shoulder, and he's practically on his feet, almost looking for a weapon, when he realizes it's just his wife.

"Easy there, lion," she soothes. "Come with me, there's something you should see."

He nods – he knows how to read the serious tone she's spoken with, and follows her outside their room and in the kitchen, where the basket is. He looks inside, and then at her, puzzled. Regina sits, because her back is doing a number. "So… someone left this baby outside, in the snow," she explains, even though it's pretty obvious. "And… I couldn't leave it there. I'm sorry."

"Al…right?" he frowns, as she bites her lip, because it's difficult to imagine his reaction. He took on quite well with Roland, and he's happy she's expecting, but – this is different. Somehow. Not for her – she finds easy to love children, even if they do not share her blood. But him…

"So you want to keep… it? Him… or her?"

"I… I don't know… I mean, we'll have a baby very soon," she motions, needlessly, at her swollen belly. "And… I don't know, but right now, we are all that baby has. I don't think you could find the one who left the basket, not with this snow, and they clearly had a good reason…"

"I see," he nods. "Regina, it's okay. I know you, I wouldn't expect less." He leans on to kiss her forehead, and she curls a hand around his, squeezes. "Have you read the letter they left?"

"Not yet," she says, watches as he takes it, opens it and reads.

Your Majesty,
I am who left this child in your care, and I wanted to explain my reasons, as well as thank you. I know you'll love my baby as I see you loving that curly-haired boy or the baby you're carrying. You see, I am dying. I'll die very soon and this baby has no one other than me. I hope you can give my child a good life, and I thank you deeply.

Name her Cait, and take care of her.

"There's another page," he says, and lifts the first one. "Dearest Cait, it's your mother. I love you so much… we probably shouldn't read this one, though. Yet."

Regina looks into the basket, where the baby is smiling at her, making bubbly noises. "She's adorable…"

"That she is," Robin nods, his hand lowering the letter. "So… what do you think?"

"I… I think we should keep her," Regina says, trying to brush off a tear without him noticing. Her head lifts, and looks at him. "If you want it as well, of course."

His fingers card though her hair, in that slow moves she loves so much. "You're already smitten with her, milady," he smiles. "We'll raise her with Roland and the baby," he promises. "Who would have thought I'd find myself to be father of three."

"You'll be wonderful at it," she tells him, her own hand finding his. "I know it."

"Well then," he takes a deep breath, leaves her hand and looks into the basket, where Cait is. He leans on, slides a hand under the baby and lifts her, keeping her enveloped in her blanket. "Welcome to the family, Cait."