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 11 – A Whale of a Conversation
The guest chambers Red has been placed in pales in comparison to the cavernous suite reserved for the Royal Couple. There is little furniture to speak of, just a modest armoire sizable enough to accommodate the wardrobe of a visiting dignitary and a similarly scaled mirror-topped chiffonier. The attached bathroom is only just big enough to fit in the small tub, lavatory, and an antiquated garderobe retrofit at great difficult to utilize the recently developed sewage disposal system – yet another gift from Victor's more technically and scientifically advanced realm – being slowly but surely installed throughout the castle. Plain black velvet drapes hang over the two narrow windows cut equidistant into the outside wall the chamber is built out from, and there are candelabras enough to read by in any corner of the room at any time of night. It is also dreadfully quiet, having somehow received extra insulation during construction, which incidentally also makes these rooms Red's favorite escape to shield her sensitive ears from the cacophonous bustle of the castle. In the absence of the blood rushing in Regina's head, the silence here is especially deafening.
Having regained some semblance of control over her faculties after that fit of despair, she can feel Victor's gaze on her before she hears him speak.
"There's nothing I can do for her. I'm sorry," he says, his tone dull and devoid of his typical arrogance.
She has no idea how long she's been locked in the unforgiving grip of her grief when his apology arrests her attention. The only indication of the passage of time is the candle perched upon the end table, which has burnt through a tenth of its weight. However long she has been trapped upon this tumultuous ride over waves of a seemingly endless sorrow, she is glad for the interruption. Not wanting to appear any more pathetic in front of the physician, she willfully forces herself to face him.
Once calm, she wipes her face of the tears smearing her cheeks before turning her attention to the only other conscious occupant of the room. Now fully alert, Victor is hunched over in the chair so that his elbows are resting upon his knees, eyes underscored by dark patches, skin tone washed out, hair frazzled, a picture of defeat. Never has she observed the man to be so downtrodden and laden with guilt. As if only passively aware of her studious appraisal, he stares at Red forlornly, unmistakably portraying just how much he cares about his current patient. It is startling to witness Victor show so much emotion, and for perhaps the first time since they met all those years ago, Regina cannot help but sympathize with the clinically detached scientist.
Red is the only true friend Victor has in the castle by virtue of her indomitable courage to butt into his life regardless of whether he asks her to or not. With time, her persistence in occasionally dragging him out of his laboratory to commiserate over ale and bread resulted in him adopting a slightly more personable attitude. Few if any aside from Red could have accomplished such a feat when most give up on the aloof doctor within the first conversation. But Red is relentless with her friendship, and it's obvious that Victor loves her for unwillingness to give up on him. That, and he owes her for his very important and incredibly lucrative position within the kingdom.
It was only because of Red that Regina sought him out with an offer of employment in the first place. On route to Midas' realm for a diplomatic event, this was before Midas' daughter Abigail ascended to the throne, she and Red had stopped halfway between to lodge for the night. While there, they dined at the local establishment which, although quaint, cultivated a warm, jovial atmosphere that was inviting enough that Regina could overlook the stained floors, worn surfaces, and unpleasant smells associated with a tightly packed throng of human bodies boasting various states of cleanliness.
"It's good to mingle below your station every now and then," Red had reasoned, dragging Regina by the hand. "I know this isn't your scene, but people like to be reminded once in a blue moon that their rulers aren't so different as they are when it comes down to the nuts and bolts. Everybody likes to drink and eat and laugh and tell terrible jokes, even highly dignified individuals such as yourself. So at least this once let these folks see that you're one of them. Please? For me."
Well, Regina wasn't one of them, but she was a pushover who humored Red far more than she should. Despite her initial reservations, they had a lovely meal and the service was more than adequate, though that was to be expected when the entire staff was sure to be on their best behavior with two Queens in their midst. Regina had concede that she actually enjoyed herself, though she did have to give the evil eye to a few bold individuals whose unwelcome stares lingered a little too long in their direction for her tastes. It was only after finishing an excellent dessert cake featuring strawberries and cream that she caught sight of a familiar crop of blonde hair. Tucked away at a corner table, it was as if he was trying to make himself disappear, which probably would have been preferable to what came next.
The very second Regina recognized Victor Frankenstein, the mellow atmosphere vanished in a flash of searing anger. The ensuing confrontation was not pretty. Nearly everyone in the little eatery went rigid and bug-eyed when she thundered across the small space, as if field mice having heard the slithering and sibilant hiss of a viper's approach. Thankfully Red was long used to her mercurial temper by then and quickly sprung into action to curtail any undue acts of destruction against person or property. Even so, she could not prevent Regina from dragging Victor outside by his lapels, where she proceeded to threaten his life should she ever lay eyes on him again.
Later on after much coaxing from Red, Regina recounted the disastrous debacle with Daniel's heart. She spared no details in describing how Victor had built up a false hope of resurrecting her slain stable boy and then proceeded to mercilessly crush it by lying to her. Left with only a devastation that refused to abate and a murderous rage at being so cruelly betrayed, she was a ripe and low hanging fruit for the Dark One to pluck. She learned some years later what really happened, that Victor had made a deal with Rumple for an Enchanted Heart and she was the unwitting sap they used to get it. Rumple's reward was a disciple ready and willing to cross lines of decency she previously she could not.
During the harrowing tale, Regina idly mentioned that Victor was a scientist and a physician of peerless skill in his world, which was why Rumplestiltskin often consulted with him. Because the royal physician back at the Dark Palace was an old man set to either soon retire or drop dead at any moment, Red had seen an opportunity that could not be passed up. Regina, as might be expected, did not take the suggestion well. Trusting the man who had so swiftly and brutally stabbed her in the back with their health seemed too ludicrous an idea to even consider. Red disagreed.
They bickered well into the night about what was best for the kingdom before Red eventually won out with a series of increasingly effective arguments. The first was that Regina should consider Victor as a tool to be used and nothing more. Employing him, Red insisted, did not mean trusting him implicitly. Furthermore, prudence would be exercised for everyone's sake by putting him under surveillance until such time her very reasonable suspicions abated. To increase the pressure she was already feeling to make an objective decision, Red then swore to take on personal responsibility for Victor should Regina find herself amenable to hiring him on a trial basis. The coup de grâce was delivered when Red shamelessly resorted to the tried and true tactic of pouting and batting her eyelashes – a combination to which Regina had a well-documented susceptibility. It worked, too. Damn the woman and her irresistible charms.
The next morning with Regina's provisional approval, Red had rode ahead of the caravan and met up with Victor on the road. Regina never found out what was said to convince him to come work for them, only that when Red returned, a triumphant smile was plastered across her lips. Like with everyone else she encountered, it wasn't long before Red wormed her way into the cold scientific heart that beat within the chest of one Dr. Frankenstein.
For her own part, Regina still does not care much for Victor personally, but Red trusts him, and that is enough for her to do so as well in professional matters. Three years on and he has yet to disappoint that remarkable show of faith. As long as that continues to be true, there will be never be any cause for her to make good on the promise she made at that modest inn among the rolling hills near the border with what is now Abigail's realm.
"I've failed her just like I failed Gerhardt," Victor then says, pulling Regina from her thoughts. The mention of his dearly departed sibling is another stirring piece of evidence as to how guilt-ridden he is over being hamstrung in Red's treatment.
There is much for Victor Frankenstein to regret in life and many unpardonable sins weighing upon his shoulders, but his inability to cure a supernatural malady such as Zelena's curse is not one of them. From the brief exchange with her sister, Regina is painfully aware that this plague is beyond even his prodigious medicinal acumen.
"You haven't failed, Victor. This is all my fault," she replies as she traces the outline of her wife's face. With slow, deliberate movements, she runs the pads of her digits down a strong jawline and then across full lips that she fervently wishes were moving with unfettered excitement as the latest amusing story or breathtaking adventure is described. "I'm afraid there is nothing either of us can do at present," she adds, her voice choked with emotion. "This affliction is one that cannot be remedied by science or any magic available to us here in the Enchanted Forest."
Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Victor's eyes narrow intently. "You know what this is. Don't you?"
Regina responds with a tight, stunted nod. "It is a sleeping curse. An altered version that even True Love's kiss cannot break."
Victor studies her face carefully, looking for something. She isn't sure what, although she suspects he is dubious about her analysis. His next words confirm that.
"Not that I doubt you," he says, though he clearly does, "but I'm curious as to why you are so confident in your assessment. I've seen a lot of magic during my tenure serving as your chief physician, and a fair few sleeping curses as well, but nothing like this. This is something entirely alien to me."
"You wouldn't have ever encountered it before," Regina answers, surprisingly steady now as her mind temporarily diverts from grief over Red to a technical discussion about the magic currently afflicting her. "The ingredient preventing magic from working to dispel this curse originates from another realm: Oz to be specific." Victor's brows raise at that. "As to how I came by this information, the person who cursed Red told me from her own lips. She is my elder half-sister, Zelena, who incidentally also hails from Oz."
Victor's expression turns almost comical by the time she is finished. It is an understandable reaction. In addition to her healthy skepticism, Regina was equally shocked at the claim.
"A sister? I was unaware you had a sibling. I thought you were an only child."
"As did I," she tells him. "My mother was a precocious liar, so I am not the least bit surprised she kept such an enormous secret. And while Zelena did not give much away, I was able to infer by her reactions to some things I said that she was abandoned like so much trash immediately after my mother squeezed her out from between her legs. She hates me because of that...among other preposterous reasons I won't bore you with."
Giving a prolonged sigh, she turns her eyes to Red, whose pallor is grossly unhealthy and flushed with fever. Yet she is still so beautiful that Regina's entire body aches with want – want to see those pretty green eyes, to hear that angelic voice call her name, and to be given one more blinding smile. She loves this woman more than all of the wealth and power the world can afford, more than her own life, and it is that fundamental nature of her love for Red that Zelena ruthlessly preyed upon.
"In essence, she wants to see me suffer, which is why she targeted Red rather than me. She knows that this is hurting me far more than any physical damage she could inflict upon my person. I believe my sister is categorically insane, but she is far from an agent of pure chaos. There is an undeniable method to her madness, a devious intelligence dead-set upon wreaking as much havoc as possible upon my life. I suppose that is a genetic trait I have Mother to thank for."
For a long moment, Victor stares at her as if not quite sure how to react to all he's heard. Eventually he says, "Wow. That, uh...that's heavy. For what it's worth, I'm sorry about all of it."
Regina gives him a curt smile that is nowhere near genuine. "Thank you. But my suddenly and tragically expanding family tree is not my present concern, as should be obvious."
Victor nods sharply, then stands and clasps his hands behind his back. He paces back and forth at the side of the bed for several seconds, flitting his eyes down at Red as he digests what he's learned. It is his method of processing information so that he can come to a conclusion about a complicated question or a solution to a vexing problem. A moment later, he stops to address Regina.
"Did your sister give any indication of what this mysterious ingredient was?" he says. "In my limited experience, when poisons are crafted from herbs or fungi or fruits, the antidotes are found in close proximity. Nature generally provides a locally accessible method of escape to preserve balance."
"That makes sense," Regina replies, then shuffles off the bed to take up position next to Victor. The wheels in her head begin turning as she analyzes her memory for clues. It takes some concentrated wracking of her brain to recall the finer details of Zelena's conceited diatribe, but she does manage to summon up a mention of how the reagent was concocted. "Now that I think about it, she did reveal something – more than she intended, I believe. A critical mistake. Her hubris may just play in our favor. I remember very clearly that she said the unique reagent she used was made of ground up leaves from a tree that grows high in the mountains near the Emerald City."
The information evidently intrigues Victor, who lets out a hum then deliberately taps his finger a few times against his lips before speaking. "Interesting. Occasionally in nature there is a dichotomous symmetry where one part of a plant is poisonous while another heals. It's no concrete rule of thumb, but it happens more than you would think. If the remedy can't be derived from a plant that grows nearby, perhaps it can be taken from the same tree."
His deduction is the first ray of hope in Regina's increasingly bleak world. She already knows where the tree grows, so finding it will not be a problem. No, the problem is transportation. And it is a big one. The supply of magic beans has dried up and there hasn't been a sighting of one of those enigmatic tornadoes on the continent for years. Pixie dust lacks the oomph to punch a hole through the fabric of space into another world, not that the Fairies would help considering Blue's contempt for her. They are just the sort of sanctimonious hypocrites who would refuse to help Red – who is the primary reason their precious Snow White still lives – in order to spite the woman to whom she is married. Furthermore, the purportedly all-powerful Sorcerer has not been seen or heard from since his arrival in Camelot and his apprentice is reportedly also in the wind along with his famous wand. There is only other reliable method to traverse worlds she can think of, and that is not an option either, all because of her.
"While that information is no doubt promising, there is the small matter of finding passage to Oz," she says, frustration lacing her words. "The giants have stopped trading with the rest of the world thanks to George's buffoon of a son and his expired wench, so beans are no longer a feasible method of traveling across worlds. All other means I am aware of are lost to us as well."
"Ah," Victor drawls, finger that was formerly on his lips now held aloft, "but that isn't a problem at all. I recently received a letter from Jefferson stating that he had returned home, and was set to inform you the moment I verified it's veracity, which I subsequently have." When Regina reacts visibly to Jefferson's name being spoken, Victor's eyes soften just a touch. "I know he is a sore spot for you, but the hat would get you to Oz and back should you be able to convince him to help."
"Jefferson's escaped Wonderland?" Regina wonders aloud. "However did he manage that?"
Last she had heard, which was some time before she'd met Red, he was still a prisoner of the Queen of Hearts, whose true identity was that of Regina's mother, Cora. Her mother's successor was nearly as appalling an individual, so she hadn't held out much hope for the hatter to survive too long.
Victor shrugs. "With Rumplestiltskin's help if I had to wager a guess. To what end the Dark One lent a hand, I don't know. The letter did not say much, and I haven't spoken with Rumple since...you know."
Regina hums in contemplation, ignoring the reference to their sordid past. After considering her options, she realizes that whatever she decides, she will be required to make a sacrifice. If she chooses to seek out Rumple for more information, she will be forced to sacrifice her pride, something she has never been good at. At the same time, if she does nothing, she will be essentially sacrificing Red's life, and that is an even worse outcome than her being pathetically humbled before her old mentor.
"Well," she eventually says, "it's not an ideal scenario to involve either Jefferson or Rumple, and were Red's life not on the line, I would surely seek other avenues in order to avoid them altogether. But this is the one scenario in which I must rein in my pride. I would know what plans Rumple has for Jefferson, not only for Red's sake but for the realm as well. Also, I should like to pick his brain about Oz. I know for a fact that he has been there before. He mentioned his visit to me once during one of his babbling lectures. And since I learned the apothecary arts from him, he may well have useful knowledge of this specific tree."
"Dealing with Rumple is never a pleasant experience," Victor says, his unease unmistakable, "nor is it ever profitable. All the same, should you decide to consult him, I would like to be present, if only for the benefit of my patient."
For a split second, Regina considers refusing the request. Seeing Victor and Rumple together in one room again is bound to dredge up some old, unwholesome feelings. She only reconsiders because she's desperate and, more importantly, Red's needs must come first. It would be prudent to have her physician present to advocate on her behalf as well as for the purpose of his extensive medical knowledge.
"Very well," she says, giving her assent before sending a gentle smile in his direction. "I should thank you, by the way, for sitting with her while I was indisposed. It eases my mind to know she hasn't been alone."
Victor waves her thanks off as if unnecessary. "Don't mention it. It was the least I could do for the friendship she's extended to me. Beyond my obligations to her as a patient, she's important to me. I want to see her whole again. Perhaps not as much as you, but I do all the same."
Feeling benevolent, and somewhat hopeful now that there is a plan of attack to save Red's life, Regina reaches out to give Victor's shoulder a friendly squeeze. "I know you do. For what it's worth, she feels the same. And no matter how complicated or strained our relationship is, I appreciate the honor you show her by keeping her trust. As long as that remains true, our past will stay there so far as I am concerned."
Relief and gratitude wash over him like a cool summer shower. "Thank you. I won't let either of you down."
"See that you don't," Regina says, releasing him as she gives him a snarky smirk. "I don't fancy replacing someone of your prodigious skill. Snatching you up was a great coup for our kingdom that I would hate to see squandered."
Victor grins back, his blue eyes twinkling. "No chance of that, Your Majesty. Not only do I want to keep my heart in my chest and my head attached to my neck, I actually like it here." His expression turns soft, then, almost vulnerable as he glances down at Red. "I'd never admit this under ordinary circumstances, but this is my home now. In large part because of her."
"She would be thrilled to hear you say that," Regina says, her own focus turning back to the incredible woman who, despite all odds, has bound two former enemies together. If only she knew she and Victor were the test case, and that a few more reconciliations would follow, all prompted by a shared affection for one goofy, sweet, loyal, and loving werewolf.
"Then I'll make sure to tell her when she's awake." Victor then draws in a weary breath before releasing it slowly. "Well," he says after scrubbing his face with both hands, "much as I'd love to collapse face first into my bed, I have a lot of research to do. I'll leave you alone with her while I go rifle through my materials. Also, while I'm gone, and with your permission, I'd like to consult the herbalist that lives in the village below. She is well traveled and has an encyclopedic knowledge of herbs and plants that may be of some use."
"That's acceptable. Thank you, Victor. You may go," Regina says as she carefully sits on the bed at Red's hip, gaze never leaving her unnaturally still wife. Victor shuffles away, and when she hears him turn the doorknob, she calls to him one last time.
"Yes, Your Majesty?" he answers.
She casts a sharp glance at him over her shoulder. "Just so you know, I will summon Rumple in two hours. With or without you."
"I'll be here," he says earnestly, then resumes his exit.
Once he is gone, Regina leans back down over her sleeping wife to better study features with which she is so intimately familiar. Red is always gorgeous. Always. Even under a withering curse, her beauty leaves an ache in Regina's chest that is as familiar as it is unwelcome considering the circumstances. Now, it is a stark reminder there was a time she visited this very fate upon Snow White.
So many preparations were made for the day she finally caught up with the perpetual thorn in her side. Acquiring the imprisoned Charming from George had been the cake. Forcing Snow to eat a tainted apple of her own making at the site of Daniel's grave was the delectable icing. She'd been so euphoric over that victory that for a week Red's molten fury and bitter disappointment didn't make a dent in her celebrations.
Fate, it seems, is not without a depraved sense of humor.
She cannot help but conclude that Red's dilemma is the just desserts for her crimes against an innocent young girl whose only mistake was to trust someone who in her limited experience should have been trustworthy. Snow's own mother, from what Regina knew of Eva, had been a veritable saint, a paragon of virtue who epitomized motherhood. It was no wonder the girl had trusted Cora to do the right thing; Snow was not raised by a heartless witch who destroyed everything good in the name of power. It was only natural she assume Cora would have Regina's best interest at heart.
Instead of putting the blame for everything that went wrong in her life where it rightly belonged, Regina heaped it all upon the narrow shoulders of an ignorant child. She had wrung her hands together in glee as she had plotted and contrived and meticulously arranged the princess's demise, and now she is getting a taste of her own medicine. Only Red is paying the price rather than the real culprit. The guilt of that is almost more than she can bear.
"I'm so sorry, my love. This is all my fault," she whispers.
Bitter tears begin to fall once more now that she is alone – alone in a room occupied by two. The thought is utterly abhorrent. Red should never be so still, so lifeless, not when she is almost always in perpetual motion at any given time. Not when her presence alone is sufficient to inundate the most spacious of rooms with her buoyant and vivacious personality. Red brings vivacity with her wherever she goes, but now she has been reduced to an empty shell and it makes Regina sick to her stomach. Her wife's body is present, yet her spirit is absent, having departed the planes of this world to be imprisoned within a place of torment from which there is no escape. And it is all her fault.
"I'm so sorry," she raggedly gasps, and the phrase turns into an anguished mantra as reason flees the premises. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry! I'm so, so sorry!"
Without Red's steady warmth and encouragement to stabilize her faltering foundation, all Regina can do is cave in under a weight of sorrow that threatens to crush her very soul.