A/N: After the previous steamy chapter, the narrative will now officially pick up steam. I might update again tomorrow. We'll see.
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 5 – A Chilling Report
After actually cleaning up in the shower like they were supposed to instead of carousing like newlyweds, Regina and Red prepare for the rest of their day. Since they are already late to court, Regina throws on a black satin slip then meanders over to one of her three wardrobes. She takes her time perusing her vast collection of dresses, deliberately fingering the fabric of each exquisite item until she comes across the one that catches her appraising eye. Pulling it out reverently, she studies it for a moment before gliding over barefoot to the body length mirror to admire it against her figure.
Sporting a collar adorned with long, inky raven feathers, the long-sleeved black and maroon garment with enormous frilly lace cuffs dotted with diamonds, some large enough to be set in a crown and some small enough to be fit for earrings. Silver and gold filigree piping accents the plunging jewel neckline, innumerable diamonds of various sizes attached all along the ornately shapes of the ornamentation which actually stretches past the end of the bodice. The skirts are accented a wide, flaring strip of ruffled raven feathers all the way down to the hem. It's an ostentatious number to be sure, but one of Regina's favorites.
"I love that dress. It's the one you wore the night you proposed," Red says, eyeing said garment – and Regina – wistfully from her perch on the corner of their bed.
Covered only by her thinner, less modest crimson slip, Red drapes a shapely leg over her knee and leans her weight on one arm, causing the hem to ride up high enough to reveal a hint of her underwear. Regina swears under her breath, fingers itching to delve underneath the fabric and dip into the fertile field so tragically concealed by silk and lace. The woman really is a shameless tease who enjoys taking advantage of the effect her womanly wiles produce in Regina. Thankfully the movement is clearly innocuous, as Red's expression betrays her submersion within the effervescent haze of a memory that is forever etched in both of their minds.
"You had your hair up in this high windswept bun and were wearing these tear-drop shaped earrings with onyx settings," Red goes on, her voice light and breezy, full of the wonderful magic of that most special night that comes to life with every passing word and second. "There was a bejeweled talon ring on your left index finger. And I'd never seen such a fancy necklace like the one that goes with that dress, either. The way it dipped into your cleavage..." she trails off, blushing alluringly, "Wow. To say I was awestruck doesn't begin to cover it, especially not when you were looking at me like I was your whole world, like you loved me beyond your own ability to comprehend it. I'd never felt so loved, so appreciated and cherished and desired. I was ready to fight the world for you before, but that night I realized I was ready to die for you."
Regina has heard all of this before, of course, though it never hurts to hear it again. It's nice to be reminded from time to time that the gamble she took that night has paid off in such spectacular fashion.
Having decided she would endure no more calls for her to abandon Red in favor of a suitable husband to further the kingdom's interest, the only natural course of action remaining was for her to elevate Red from the Queen's consort to her co-ruler. It was a risky move that flew in the face of powerful people who already did not particularly care for her, many of whom would be all too happy to see her dethroned or dead. deeply unpopular amongst the nobles, it accomplished Regina's ends just fine. Not only did all calls for her to but she got to make an honest woman out of the love of her life.
Knowing the night she proposed was to be momentous for them both, Regina pulled out all the stops. She spared no expense in arranging the exotic ingredients for their dinner to be imported from Chansiréne, a coastal town many leagues to the south. The seafood dish features something the local inhabitants of that realm refer to as lobster mornay under a bed of rice baked in a mix of onion soup and consommé, preceded by mussel and saffron soup, and is capped off by a rich chocolate mousse topped with sugary whipped cream. The meal became Red's favorite the first time she sampled it at a gala they were invited to while visiting Prince Eric and Princess Ariel shortly after the birth of their daughter Melody. With Red, Regina quickly discovered the old saying that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach is also only applicable women, especially when they are werewolves that require twice the caloric intake of a normal human female – and even more during Wolf's Time.
The royal dining hall was cleared out of all décor for the occasion save for the banner boasting the old family crest, the rearing stallion and dashing cavalier. The grand table large enough to host a party of fifty was disassembled and moved so a smaller, more intimate one could be brought in that seated only two. A lush red orchid was procured to decorate the table, again Red's favorite, and the best china and silverware in the castle was brought out. With much room to spare due to the lack of the grand table, a bevy of musicians were hired to keep up a constant stream of romantic music, all the most accomplished upon their instrument, featuring two violinists, a cellist, a flutist, and a guitarist from the realm of Xavier from whence Regina hailed. A recently developed instrument was debuted in the castle that night as well, the piano, a gorgeous piece of craftsmanship invented some years before in Drakkenhall – King Stefan's realm – and which only just caught on in Misthaven. New candelabras were ordered for the occasion with wolf's head cups, howling maws fashioned to hold the lavender scented candles Red prefers, and she had red orchid petals strewn about the floor as if the litter of their cozy stone forest with no trees and a canopy of thick cedar braces and rosewood paneling.
Regina can remember the moment Red walked in, arrayed in the dress Regina had requested her to wear that she instructed her personal designer to make just for that night. It was a slightly more sleek dress than Regina's, also brocade dyed, though instead of maroon accents upon a black background the colors were reversed and the designs deliberately depicting the branches of an apple tree whose fruit was shaped as a crescent moon. It had a unique neckline sewn to also resemble a crescent moon, though it was lacked the gaudy ornamentation as Red prefers simpler garments. All of her jewelry, the wolfshead necklace with burning red eyes and moon-shaped earrings, were gold and set with ruby gemstones, as Red cannot abide silver touching her skin due to her genetic condition. Meanwhile her hair was left down, curls tumbling over her shoulder and splaying down her back all the way to the small, a golden floral headband wound into the thick strands at her crown. Taken as a whole, she was a vision from the otherworld, an ethereal being wrapped in flesh whose skin was flush with joy and whose eyes danced with unfathomable devotion. Regina has only ever seen a more beautiful sight once, on their wedding day, when Red walked down the aisle in her wedding gown clinging to her grandmother's arm.
"You know I feel the same, darling," Regina says, reaching back for Red's hand, needing to feel their skin touch with undeniable fervency. When they join together, Red having slid off the bed, she tugs her wife over to the mirror. "For whatever reason I'm feeling nostalgic right now, not that it's a bad thing. That was a night I'll never forget."
Red bumps her hip, smiling at her. "Me either. I know why you're all sentimental right, though." When Regina arches a brow, Red's smile spreads into a cheeky grin. "It's 'cause of what happened in the shower a few minutes ago." Regina's amused scoff only makes Red chuckle and bump their hips together again. "C'mon. Admit it. I'm just that good."
A blush colors Regina's cheek, though she plays it off with her typical bluster. "Ha! And who was it that did all the work? I seem to recall it wasn't you..."
"Oh, yeah?" Red interrupts, her own cheeks glowing, "I seem to recall not even needing to touch you to make you cum. So tell me, who's the one with magic, huh? Bet that's a trick not even that old devil who taught you couldn't figure out."
A full body wince corkscrews through Regina at the mention of her old mentor. "Forgetting any thought of associating...him...with what we just did," she says, "I must grant that you have a unique ability to make me see stars that is quite magical indeed. It's why I keep you around, my love."
"Aww, and here I thought it was my rustic charm and pretty face that kept you coming back for more." Red bats her eyes prettily for effect. It works, which isn't all that shocking. Regina is long used to Red getting what she wants with a sly ability manipulate she would never have guessed the outwardly common woman to possess. She has paid dearly for that underestimation over the years. The only silver lining is that it is mostly to her benefit. Red hardly ever asks for anything that is purely selfish.
"Well, those admirable virtues certainly don't hurt your undeniable appeal." Regina adds a lighthearted wink at the end that tickles Red, who giggles in that genuine, cutesy way of hers that is endearing, unlike most other noble ladies who put on airs of a perpetual debutante incapable of achieving emotional or intellectual maturity. "That said," she adds, "best not brandish that charm too much lest we be even later for court than we already are."
The conversational redirect, although abruptly interrupting their enjoyable interplay, was a necessary step to get them back on track for the rest of the day. Sometimes in the heady aftermath of their lovemaking, Red is easily distracted and a chore to keep focused, which means Regina has to do some subtle steering. Such as now, when she would much prefer to loiter in their bedchambers and reminisce about the night she proposed and perhaps have a repeat of their positively volcanic tryst in the shower. Ah, the oft maddening frustrations of being a ruler…
"I'll try to keep it to a minimum then," Red says, amiably accepting the shift in direction. "Any suggestions for me? Or should I just pick out whatever I'm in the mood for?"
Regina taps her chin thoughtfully for a few moments before her mind is drawn once again to the night of her proposal. She snaps her fingers gleefully, eyes alighting.
"Why don't you fetch the dress you wore that night?" she says. "We can both enshroud ourselves in pieces of our history and let the memories bolster us through the coming hours of tedium."
"Ooooh! That's a great idea!" Clapping with delight, she skitters away toward her own wardrobe, throws it open and begins rifling through it to find the correct dress. When she finds it, she pulls it out and sweeps a hand across the fabric, inhales deeply then lets out a slow, dreamy sigh. "Oh goodness, I haven't worn this in so long." Her face then scrunches up, nose crinkling adorably as if she's smelled something rotten all of the sudden. "I wonder if I still fit in it. Gracious me, I bet I've gained fifteen pounds since we got married..."
She most certainly has not gained a single pound and she does still fit in the dress as perfectly as the first time she wore it. Regina deliberately points this out when Red is all buttoned up and looking so beautiful she cannot breathe for several seconds. Seeing Red in that dress dredges up so many emotions, all of the best kind – warmth, happiness, security, hope, a feeling of home that supersedes all other places or people that were formerly with that word, and so much love that her chest can hardly contain it and her heart barely withstand it. And when Red smiles that smile, the one that announces she is feeling all the same things, Regina has to force herself to behave when all she wants is to reenact the epic culmination of that supremely wonderful night.
With much difficulty she limits herself to three kisses before rechecking their dresses to smooth down any remaining wrinkles and making any last minute adjustments to their hair or the pounds of priceless jewelry they are expected to wear at such occasions as Petition Day. And then they are off hand-in-hand toward the throne room to get on with the never-ending business of being monarchs.
For the past four years the first Thursday of each month has been dedicated as the official day the Crown receives petitions. Today happens to be one such Thursday, although Red certainly has made them fashionably late. No matter. It is not the first time, nor will it be the last.
As per tradition, until sunset the royal couple is availed to their subjects so that they may receive complaints in matters either successfully appealed to a higher authority than their local magistrates or too broad in scope to fall under the umbrella of local or regional adjudication. Sometimes Regina defers judgment to Red, who presides alongside her, while sometimes she handles matters herself. In the most critical cases they confer with one another and do not render judgment until a consensus is reached.
No matter who is deciding the outcome of the various cases, the days are invariably long and mentally arduous. By the time they are back in their chambers, weary of mind as of body, Regina is usually rueing her vulnerability to a certain brunette's ridiculously effective appeals. It was Red's fault, after all, she was convinced to reinstitute the monthly event she had canceled upon her ascension to the throne. Previously, she had foisted responsibility to oversee the relevant cases upon the Council of Nobles. The system worked well enough, just not for Red, who had an idealistic view of the monarchy primarily inspired by any number of Snow's sanctimonious sermons about the Crown's accountability to the people. Anyone else's pleading would have been dismissed with prejudice. The thing is, with anyone else Regina did not have to contend with soulful green eyes tugging imploringly at an invisible string tied around her heart and an exaggerated pout accentuating lips that were always begging to be kissed.
"It really isn't fair," she often laments to Iris, their handmaid, "how easily the woman can weaponize a pout." Iris, usually struggling to contain a smile, simply reminds her she wouldn't wish it any other way. Which is true, not that Regina would ever admit to that.
On this particular occasion, there is an endless stream of claimants. They span the broad spectrum of society from nobles with petty squabbles over money and land to commoners whose penchant to be ruled by their passions has landed them into a variety of troubles. Most of the claims are easily handled within a matter of minutes, which leaves Regina to wonder why so many are left unattended by the local authorities.
Perhaps it is time for me to intervene, she tells herself as Red listens sympathetically to a woman's woeful tale. Apparently, her husband absconded to a neighboring kingdom with all of the capital from their business. Along with their most valuable, and much younger, employee. That this was not dealt with in the woman's district is revealing. Her subordinates are getting lazy, she decides, and she won't stand for it.
"I will personally write to Queen Abigail to negotiate the recompense of your lost capital," Red tells the woman, completely composed and in her element.
Red's current conduct is so unlike the uncertain, out-of-depths, skittish young commoner without an inkling about nobility, who for love of a Queen suddenly found herself thrust into the high pressure obligations of a monarch. There was a time she could not have spoken so many words without stammering or her voice being riddled with timidity. Years of practice have erased those hallmarks of what some might refer to as ineptitude, and Regina could not be more proud of the astounding progress that has been made. Red is every bit the graceful ruler she always knew she could be.
"Since taking the reins of rule, she has proven herself to be very reasonable," Red continues addressing the aggrieved woman who is hanging on her every word. "Also, the Queen and I have an excellent rapport with her that I'm sure she will take into account. Now, I cannot force your husband to come home, nor can I compel Queen Abigail to have him put in the stocks for a few days as he clearly deserves. But I can promise to do all I'm able to recoup your livelihood." When the woman nods gratefully, choking back a cry of thanks, Red gives her one of those patented smiles. "In the meantime, you will be extended a usury free loan to keep your business afloat. Should the overtures to Queen Abigail bear fruit, the treasury will simply account the incoming funds as your due repayment. Should they unexpectedly fail, you will be immediately forgiven half the debt and the rest you may pay as you are able over the course of five years. Does that sound fair?"
That question that causes Regina to wince, though she schools her features quickly lest her highly perceptive wife notice. Red is an excellent judge of character and has a keen mind for numbers, but sometimes her benevolent tendencies gets the better of her. She would be better served to care slightly less about what seems fair to those she is judging when said parties have a vested interest in exclusively and aggressively pursuing their own favor. What is fair to the petitioner is nearly always at odds with what is advantageous to the Crown.
But Regina has learned to pick her battles where her wife is concerned. In some areas, Red is as resistant to change as she is. And ultimately, she can't complain too much when Red's compassion offsets her own pragmatism, thus keeping the scales of justice in precarious balance. It's just another example of how well suited they are for one another. In this case, the kingdom just so happens to be the beneficiary.
"Yes, Your Majesty, very fair," the woman says, effusive with gratitude, as she ought to be considering the extraordinary mercy she's been shown. "I swear I won't forget this. Thank you! Thank you so much!"
"You're welcome," Red says, still smiling as she waves for the Chamberlain, who scurries at her beckoning. "Richard! Escort this lovely lady to the Treasury and instruct Ebeneezer to extend her a loan of twenty-five gold pieces, thirty-seven silver, and forty coppers." Eyes sharpening, she leans forward deliberately. "Make certain he understands the credit is to be without interest. If he gives you any lip about it, tell him I know what he did for Bob Crachit's boy and wouldn't mind one bit widely disseminating that little glimpse of his humanity."
"Yes, of course, Your Majesty. Right away," Richard replies, then bows deeply before gesturing toward the doors of the throne room. "Come along, dear. Let's get you sorted out. Shall we?" Still mumbling her thanks, the woman follows the Chamberlain out the door.
Regina chuckles lowly at Red's choice of tactic to handle their treasurer. "Well, well. Blackmail? I didn't know you had it in you."
Red harrumphs. "Serves the old codger right. What he did for Timmy was sweet. I don't see why he's so embarrassed about being kind to a sick kid on Yule. He could stand to do it more often."
"Not too often," Regina says, one corner of her lips twisting up wickedly. "Having an implacable Scrooge for our Treasurer has made us incredibly wealthy."
Red just laughs, shaking her head in exasperation as Regina waves the guard at the door. Obeying the silent command, he goes about granting admission to the next petitioner. While she waits, she relaxes into her throne and adopts an air of irritated boredom. Best to keep things moving along. Her old reputation still has it's uses. If people think she's on edge, they won't be as apt to take their liberties with time or tone.
Expecting another tedious case, she is not at all prepared for the panicked messenger who bursts through the grand double doors with all the delicacy of one of those berserkers from the north on the warpath. The man's face is awash with tension and sweat trickles down the long line of his square jaw. He is limping noticeably, favoring his left leg, while his left arm hangs uselessly at his side.
Regina jerks forward upon her throne and she hears Red gasp upon recognizing the knight as one currently serving in the far reaches of the realm. There is a garrison near the border shared with the realm Snow White and Prince Charming rule that he commands. It is one of the kingdom's most vital outposts. She has not suspected Snow and Charming of being up to no good for some time, but she cannot afford to leave anything to chance where her long-time enemy is concerned. An ounce of prevention and all that.
"Captain Locksley," she says to the faithful soldier. Her tone is strained as she was immediately set on edge by his frightful condition. "I am surprised to see you here seeing as I have not requested your presence. You are not due to give your yearly report for another six weeks. Why, then, have you abandoned your post?"
There are few more dependable men in service to the crown than Robin of Locksley. He is another one of Red's pet projects. A rugged survivalist who once made Sherwood Forest his home, he made an unlikely friend out of Misthaven's new Queen when he attempted to rob her carriage passing through on the way to visit her grandmother and her pals, Snow and Charming. Long had the Prince of Thieves been a nuisance to all three monarchs whose realms trisected the sprawling, labyrinthine forest most sane individuals preferred to avoid.
Bandits and thieves were not the only dangers that lurked in the deep shadows of Sherwood. There were unnatural terrors that made their home in the crevices and hollows of a forest as famous for not allowing light to penetrate its thick canopy as for being the last known location of the missing and presumed dead. Robin and his Merry Men scraped out a living there, what's more, they made it into a home. They were a formidable bunch of miscreants and outlaws. Just not formidable enough to take on a werewolf capable of destroying elite squadrons of highly trained soldiers all by herself. They had thought it a once in a lifetime stroke of luck spotting the Queen's carriage cutting through Sherwood's eastern flank. Red proved them wrong. When she was done, all eight of Robin's men were incapacitated and the legendary bowman himself treed by a wolf so massive even the skulking horrors of Sherwood fled from her in fear.
Of course, being the push over that she is, Red let them all go. She swears to this day Robin persuasively talked himself out of being brought in by offering to take her to their camp where he introduced her to his family and the families of his larcenous entourage. It is the exact same story she used to convince Regina to drop all charges against the exiled nobleman who was forced to flee for his life after his father was murdered and his good name ruined by a corrupt Sheriff who was angling to ingratiate himself to an equally unscrupulous Prince. When Red sets her mind to something, there is no changing it. Championing Robin's cause is proof enough of that. She was relentless in his defense and visited Sherwood often until she eventually wore down Regina's resolve. That Prince John was decidedly furious with her granting Robin and all of his Merry Men sanctuary provided an additional benefit to a decision that she has yet to have cause to regret.
There are few better suited for leadership than Captain Locksley. Before his exile, he had served in the army of his king and been a veteran commander of many battles on foreign soil. His experience with banditry only sharpened an already keen tactical mind and a broad, strong frame built for combat. It is little surprise that Mulan took an instant liking to him and brought him on as her second. Approving Mulan's appointment of him to commander over the strategic outpost nestled against the border with the White Kingdom was a foregone conclusion. Outside of her Commanding General, Captain Locksley is one of her finest soldiers.
Robin is also a good, kind, lionhearted man. He is an excellent father and a loving husband and very good friend to both Regina and Red. Which made discovering his lion tattoo a bit more palatable. Make no mistake, it threw her for a loop for a long time, but when she got over the shock, she realized who they might have been to one another made no difference in the present. When she walked away from the tavern, and him, that day so many years ago, she had made the right choice. Both of them were happier for her cowardice, and far better off. Having come to know Robin personally through Red, she is convinced they are fundamentally incompatible. How Tinker Bell's fairy magic linked them together, she has no idea except to theorize the bungling wasp made yet another mistake. Which is not out of the realm of possibility when Blue thought Tink so incompetent she was stripped of her wings then banished to Neverland of all places. Whatever the case for the mishap, Regina is glad she didn't listen to Tinker Bell. And so is Robin, who agrees wholeheartedly with her dubious assessment of them supposedly being Soul Mates. For him, that is Marian, while for her that is Red. No one can convince either of them otherwise.
Anyway, seeing Robin injured is unsettling enough without him having left his post. Deep in the pit of her stomach, she suspects that whatever brought him here today is about to shake the foundations of her life. She cannot imagine how right she is.
In response to Regina's pointed question, Robin ducks his head as he approaches the dais, kneeling before his Queen like the good soldier that he is, in spite of the pain the action causes. "I have not, my Queen," he replies after raising his head to meet her demanding gaze. His injuries aside, there is something in his tone that she's never heard before, a terror and fury that is reflected in his eyes. When Regina raises a brow at the deflection, he sighs, then proceeds to amend his statement. "I mean to say, Your Majesty, that there is no post left to abandon. The garrison has been burnt to the ground and the regiment slaughtered. I am the last living of seventy-five."
"What?!" she snaps, rising abruptly. Beside her, she feels Red stiffen in horror, and though her wife and fellow Queen remains seated, Red does scoot to the edge of her seat. Gripping the armrest so forcefully it groans out a creak, concern wafts out from her in waves. Regina does not have to glance down to know her wife's expression gives off much the same impression as her posture. "What the hell happened, Captain?" she then demands of her subordinate.
Captain Locksley's proud shoulders shrink inward at her tone. He is clearly haunted by the events that have lead him here, and Regina's harshness has only exacerbated the trauma he has suffered. She takes several slow breaths to calm her rising temper. Though her control returns, his reaction has ratcheted up her concern several degrees.
"I left my second in command in charge while I accompanied a patrol of new recruits in the local forests to personally gauge their mettle, as is my custom," he replies. "When I returned two hours later, the garrison was burning. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before. Green flames engulfed the entire structure, and the heat was so intense that I and the men who accompanied me on patrol could not get within twenty yards without being overcome. Inside, I could hear the tormented screams of those trapped and burning alive. That's when she appeared." He looks away, his speech petering out as he gives a barely noticeable shudder.
"Who appeared, Robin?" Red then asks, much more gentle in her prodding.
Whereas Regina respects and trusts Captain Robin Locksley as a loyal soldier, Red values him as a friend. Affection for Red is not uncommon among the military. Their junior Queen is often to be found among them, having joined in on their training to keep her combat skills sharp or to simply enjoy the camaraderie of a tight-knit unit who depend upon one another to survive. They welcome her because she is one of those rare individuals whose smile unleashes the sun and whose eyes reflect the best version of those around her. Morale is measurably boosted whenever she is around. Her prowess in hand-to-hand and with the bow have earned their admiration, but it is her innate kindness and her unique ability to make them all laugh that inspires their undying love. For that reason alone, Regina tolerates her Queen spending so much time with a rough and tumble and often uncouth crowd. Held to an exceedingly high standard of comportment they may be, but her soldiers are still soldiers.
When Regina once expressed concern that Red was sacrificing her authority over them to gain their friendship, she refused to heed the warnings. She was determined to be uncomfortably close to the men and women she may one day have to order out to their deaths.
"As Queen, I have sent legions to their inevitable doom," Regina had explained. "I was groomed to be able to deal with the repercussions, but I worry about your tender heart and the effect such a heavy weight might have on it. When factoring in your personal relationships with them, that worry gets a little too close to fear for my liking. You endanger yourself needlessly by befriending those who might be called to die tomorrow on your command."
"If they are going to be sacrificing their lives for me at any time in the future, then I owe them the respect of knowing them as human beings," Red had countered, fierce in her stance. "And don't be so concerned for my heart. I'm tougher than I look. You of all people should know that."
"I do know that," Regina had sighed. "But you're my wife. My job is to protect you at all costs, even if that means the threat is from yourself."
And it is a job she will never relinquish by choice. That Red's goodness is only equaled by her toughness does not eliminate the obligation to shield her spouse from any and all pain she can. Red gets close enough to the troops as is considering the cold truth that armies are expendable. For that reason alone, she instituted a policy that keeps her companies out on rotations rather than permanently assigning one to the Citadel. Red cannot grow dangerously attached to men and women who are not constantly stationed in such close proximity. Selfish though it was, the change was what she believed to be best for Red at the time. That opinion has not changed one iota since.
Still, Red stubbornly finds ways to keep in touch with those she has grown particularly fond of. Such as her favorite drinking buddies, preeminent among them Captain Locksley and General Mulan.
In recognition of that friendship, Captain Locksley gives Red a small smile before his grimace returns in full force. "She did not speak her name," he then answers Red's question as to the identity of the person who has destroyed a vital garrison in the realm's defense. Regina is burning to know who it is so that she can personally see to it that they are captured and punished.
"Is there anything of value that you can tell us?" Regina inquires. She doesn't mean to come off so harshly, but her hackles are raised and she is angry, an emotion she has always found incredibly difficult to conceal.
Captain Locksley winces, then nods in affirmation. "She was tall and beautiful, with pale skin and hair the color of the setting sun. She dressed in all black. I can also tell you also that she wiped out my men with little effort, wielding power that surpasses any I have witnessed. And I do not disrespect Your Majesty with that statement. It is merely an observation."
"Duly noted," Regina says through clenched teeth and then gestures in his direction. "So this woman is a tall and beautiful sorceress of great power. Is there anything else?" He nods, and she says, "Then by all means, continue."
"The most distinguishing thing about her," he goes on after a rasping cough, "is her skin. It is green, your Majesty, just as her magic."
Regina raises a judgmental brow. "And yet you say she was beautiful? If I didn't know your wife to be such a lovely woman, I would be inclined to question your tastes, Captain, if not your eyesight."
"Regina..." Red sighs, and Regina rolls her eyes.
"My apologies." She is insincere in her delivery. And while both Red and Captain Locksley are well aware she does not mean the apology, they accept it all the same. The soldier does so because she is his Queen whereas Red simply loves her unconditionally. "Was there anything else?"
"Yes, my Queen," Captain Locksley replies. "She did not kill me for a reason. She left me alive, though maimed, to deliver a message."
That grabs Regina's interest. "Oh? And what might that message be?"
He grunts and then coughs again, this time covering his mouth with the sleeve of his white tunic. When it comes away bloody, Red rises and makes to rush to his aid. Regina halts her with a hand on her forearm.
"Let the man speak," she says, not unkindly, "and then I will have him taken straight to the physician."
Red clearly has objections to this sequencing, but she defers out of propriety and trust. Although Regina has made Red a Queen in equal standing with her, as Red's elder, both in age and experience, it is common knowledge that Regina's word is the highest in the land, something with which Red is perfectly agreeable.
"The message is this," he says, and as he speaks, his voice morphs from his masculine timber into something altogether feminine. His accent shifts along with the change, making the effect jarring. Silence falls over the court as the Captain rises to his feet as if completely against his will.
Regina suddenly understands what is going on and she shifts herself to stand between her wife and the soldier whose will and motor function have been usurped in an act of magical prowess few are capable of. It's as if the man has been possessed, and in a manner, she knows he has been. Or at least a very specific part of him has been. A cold chill shoots down her spine. The taking of hearts is the darkest of magicks that only the Dark One and his disciples can perform. Is it possible Rumplestiltskin is behind this?
"No longer is this realm safe," the new voice proclaims. It is the witch, Regina knows, speaking through the Captain's heart, which she has wrenched from his chest. "There is a new ruler in Misthaven. Just as Oz before, Misthaven will fall and all shall bow to me. Beginning with you, Queen Regina." At that, Locksley's eyes level square on Regina. They are cold, so very cold, and devoid of humanity, and Regina can see by his corresponding expression that the individual controlling him is completely insane. "Let this be your one and only warning. I am coming for what is owed to me, and I will take it, leaving you broken at my feet before I end your miserable life. Prepare yourself accordingly, Your Majesty. The days of your reign are numbered."
And with that, Captain Locksley suddenly returns to himself. "My Queen, she intends to pois-" But he does not get to finish his sentence. He straightens with a sharp gasp and his eyes bug out in untold agony before he goes limp. He slumps face first to the floor as if a rag doll. Regina does not need to feel for a pulse to know he is dead, his heart having been ground to dust.
Shocked, she stares the prone, unmoving figure of her friend and faithful servant. Her heart races in her chest, anger and despair cascading through her torso with its every fierce collision against her rib cage. Poor Marian and Roland. How is she supposed to break this news to Robin's family? She aches for them and the pain they will soon have to endure. And for what? Because some crazy bitch hates me?
"Robin!" Red's voice suddenly rings out, shrill in her dismay. She scurries gracelessly to the fallen man's side and turns him over, cradling him in her arms. She calls his name several times as she paws at his face, trying to rouse him from a slumber that will never end. When reality finally dawns, she turns brimming eyes up to Regina, desperate for answers she can't give.
"I'm so sorry," Regina says, and then gestures for her guards to come and take the body. Red resists their initial attempts, growling at them through baleful yellow eyes. They spring back in fear. "Stand down, my love. You must let them take him," Regina then says, gathering her skirts to descend the dais. Once standing beside her grief stricken wife, she lays a gentle hand on her shoulder and the gestures for the guards to try again. When they come and crouch to gather the body of their fallen comrade, Red does not protest, although she whimpers as Captain Locksley is taken from her arms and carried away.
Only after the doors close behind the guards does Red lift herself from the floor. She stands for several moments, breathing heavily and trying not to cry in front of the entire court. Regina takes her hand and gently cups her face.
"Go to our chambers and do as you must away from prying eyes," she says, eyes imploring Red to listen. She knows Red needs to have a long, miserable cry and can't unless she is sequestered somewhere private – it is not becoming for a queen, even one as informal and famous for her gentle heart as Red, to show such sentimentality in front of her subjects. "I will take care of business here and then come to you directly." Red begins to protest, but Regina does not let her. "Please, darling. For me."
"Okay. For you," Red agrees after a moment of silence. A solitary tear rolls down her cheek.
Heedless of the impropriety, Regina leans in to give her wife a kiss upon the forehead, hoping that it helps, even if just a little, to alleviate her grief.
It is unbearable to see Red in any kind of pain, making for a stressful life considering Red is a werewolf who enjoys getting into trouble at every opportunity. Often she incurs injuries that, were she human, would be lethal or at best have severely maimed her. Being that she is a werewolf, she bounces back quickly, but that doesn't assuage Regina's anxieties any at all. She still frets over Red every time she limps home wounded from a scuffle with a bear or some other large animal during Wolf's Time, and still hovers like a worried mother hen whenever something happens that wounds Red's sensitive heart.
To her relief, Red ducks her head to accept the kiss, and seems to marginally calm down before giving Regina a weak smile. Without another word, she departs the throne room. And though her shoulders are drawn in and her gait is a bit uneven, she holds her head high.
Knowing that Red is processing what has happened without becoming mired in anger or sorrow helps Regina to go about the rest of her day. She finishes taking petitions an hour past midday, having cut them short due to recent events. That she'd continued on at all surprises even her. Routine, she has discovered, helps to soothe frayed nerves so she can think more clearly. By the time the last of the petitions is heard, the burning outrage from the Captain's news and his subsequent death have been reduced into smoldering embers. A manageable state through which she can plan without being reckless.
Afterward, she retires to her chambers to check on Red, whom she finds curled up asleep in their bed. She did not need to see reddened, splotchy cheeks or smeared mascara around the eyes for her to recognize an almost palpable grief. She had heard snoring before she opened the chamber door, and that was more than enough evidence. Red only ever snores when she is totally exhausted, suffering from a rare bout of allergies at the changing of the seasons, or is overly worried about something that plagues her mind even in her sleep.
Knowing how deeply wounded Red is by the Captain's death hurts, and not in a way that indicates any kind of jealousy. This is one of the reasons she so worries about Red's frequent interactions with the men and women sworn to protect the realm and the royal family. Soldiers die. It is a hard, inescapable fact of life in a world torn by strife between rival kingdoms and factions often at each other's throats. Conflicts spark into life with such regularity and with so little advanced notice that every monarch with the means to do so keeps standing armies in battle-readiness year around. Whether small or large, battles mean a pile of wounded and dead for both sides.
Regina has attempted countless appeals for Red to be careful with her heart. A sensitive one such as hers should not be made to endure repeated losses, which it will because many of the soldiers she has befriended will die in combat long before reaching middle age. But Red ignores those pleas in favor of continuing to spar with the castle's garrison and clandestinely patronize her favorite pub with her friends of military persuasion. Twice a month they gather in the little town located at the base of the mountain upon which the castle sits to carouse and tell stories and laugh until their bellies hurt. The only reason Regina hasn't put a stop to it is because of how happy it makes Red to have that time to unwind with folk cut from the same cloth as her. Commoners have this universal thread of acceptance as to the importance of having fun in the grand scheme of life. Regina thinks it is because they all understand, much more clearly the nobility, how tragically brief and ruthless life is.
There was a time in Regina's life she valued fun also, but her fun had been of a different sort. To her, riding horses or fencing with her private instructor or passing a lazy afternoon reading were ideal forms of recreation. Not that she can indulge in such things when being Queen imposes strict restraints on very nearly her every waking hour. The majority of what precious spare time she has is allocated for her family. Only what remains is spent on hobbies. But that doesn't mean she begrudges Red her outings. Quite the opposite. She isn't so callous that she would deny Red any opportunity to enjoy herself when that would be just the same as locking her up in a cage, gilded as it may be.
Werewolves are social creatures who require interaction not only with other wolves but with other people. Normally the pack would meet both of these needs. But Red is without a true pack, which means she has to find stimulation elsewhere by running in her fur with the wolf packs native to Misthaven and by commiserating with what human friends she is able to make that Regina approves as trustworthy. That stipulation rubbed Red the wrong way many a time, but it was the only way Regina was going to let her Queen spend time away from her personal guard and outside of Regina's proximity. Captain Locksley was the first person Red met in the Dark Palace that Regina found worthy of that trust. He was, other than Snow, Red's oldest friend.
The sorrow written upon Red's face and evident upon her still form even in slumber elicits an acute need to crawl into bed with her wife, if only to give her what comfort she can. It's a crying shame their Huntsman is so far afield, else she could indulge her selfish desires. But Graham is even more indisposed than Mulan, and with no one else she trusts enough to handle this crisis, the responsibility falls to her. It is with great difficulty that she scrounges up enough strength to leave after watching over Red for only a few precious minutes.
Before departing, she again brushes her lips against her wife's forehead and whispers, "I love you. I really am so sorry."