A/N: Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to leave a review! I really appreciate it.
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 21 – Just A Girl From Kansas
As it turns out, what Regina saw was not Zelena at all. She only realizes that when her fireball slams into the solid surface of a huge jade crystal tucked into the back corner against the wall. She steps toward it hesitantly, unsure of what she'll find, only to halt abruptly upon catching a glimpse of what is inside.
Fingers belonging to gloved hands are held out in front of a distinctly female figure. One of said hands is gripping a short sword while the left is held out as if in warning. Jade encases the woman in totality from head to toe. It takes a second to register that the crystal is a prison. Or more accurately a stasis chamber built to keep a person alive but in suspended animation. Whoever this poor sap trapped inside it is, she is of great importance to Zelena to be kept on display like this in her private chambers.
"My goodness. There's a woman stuck in there!" Snow declares the obvious from where she has advanced to inspect the crystal casing. Curiosity prompts her to peer inside. "Oh, wow! She's beautiful. And also looks really fierce. I bet she could take me out easily. Hey!" She glances up at Regina. "I wonder what your sister wants with her?"
"I don't know," Regina answers, drawing closer to the crystallized woman.
Snow is correct in her assessment of the woman's attractiveness. She is striking in a rugged sense. Clad in a sky blue gingham dress, which seems incongruent with her stern expression, her waist is cinched by a leather girdle bearing a scabbard holding a sword with a circular silver pommel. A field gray cloak is about her shoulders which flows down to her knees. Archers gloves cover her hands and there is a bow, held in place by the tension on the string, diagonally slung across her body just above an ordinary looking quiver.
Physically speaking, the woman cuts an imposing figure, tall and strong yet undeniably feminine at the same time. Dark curls are tied back into a messy arrangement that boldly declares her to be every bit the warrior she appears: sturdy in body, fierce of heart, and iron of will. And yet her facial features contain a softness to them, an innate kindness that would appeal to Red's sensibilities were she here to judge the woman's character at a glance. Regina is not normally one to put stock in first-glimpse assessments, but she has to admit this prisoner has piqued her interest.
Intending to free the woman at once, she raises her hand to the crystal surface and then gently probes it to ascertain its magical properties. She grins when she recognizes the root spell. It is one that Rumple had taught her long ago as a means of storing fragile items or preserving delicate specimens on long journeys. A similar enchantment was used to ward off decay from Daniel's body. Upon discovering what her mother had done to her precious stable boy, Regina put her new magical training to the test working out the mechanics of the spell. She even managed to improve it in later years. Needless to say, this is something she can easily undo.
She turns to Snow with a mildly excited grin. "Let's find out who my sister's guest is, shall we?" And with that announcement, she instructs her magic to begin unraveling the crystallization spell.
The process of deconstruction takes more energy then she would have liked to expend, but within seconds, the prison has been dissolved into so much verdant vapor. Freed from the grips of Zelena's magic, the woman slumps forward, jelly legged and off balance. Snow reacts quickly to catch her, almost falling herself in the process, so Regina steps in to steady them both. It takes a moment for the former prisoner, now blinking furiously and wobbling in place, to recover her bearings. Once she does, she peers around the room in total confusion.
When her piercing azure gaze lands on Regina, her brows furrow deeply. Regina notices now that the woman's complexion is fairer than her own yet darker than Snow's – not naturally, but from regular exposure to the sun. She wonders if the stranger might hail from a kingdom to the north she has passing familiarity with, but refrains from asking when they are being critically assessed to determine if they are a threat.
After a moment of intense study the woman relaxes just a touch, having apparently decided they mean her no harm. "Who are you? What happened to me?" she asks, words showing no hint of the accent common to those hailing from Beowulf's land of ice and snow.
Regina introduces herself and then does the same for Snow, much as she had earlier in the village in which they procured Lucas.
"Pleased to meet you, Queens Regina and Snow," the woman replies. "My name is Dorothy Gale from Kansas."
Kansas? What a strange name for a country, Regina thinks, though aloud she says, "Greetings, Lady Dorothy. If I may address your second concern first, I am not certain what happened to you beyond the fact that you had an unfortunate run in with my half-sister. In this realm, she is referred to as the Wicked Witch."
Dorothy's pink lips curl downward in disgust and her steely blue eyes glint with barely repressed fury. "Zelena. Yes, I remember now. She wanted to breach the Sacred Grove I'm sworn to protect. For what purpose, I don't know. I do remember trying to stop her, though. Guess I failed. Horribly, as you just saw. Tell me, did she succeed in getting through the gates?"
Regina's eyes brighten at Dorothy's mention of the Sacred Grove, and she grows even more excited to learn the woman is a guardian of that place. Fortune has once again smiled upon the quest to save Red. If anyone can help her reach the Grove, it is this woman. But then Regina's mind catches up with the rest of the story and her expression falters.
"Sadly, yes, she did," she tells the beautiful stranger. "We're here because of what she did next, in fact."
At the news, Dorothy appears stricken, and responds with mild panic. "What did she do? I must know! Did she destroy the Grove?! And what about Glinda? Before the witch attacked she flaunted Glinda's fate over me, how she had seduced the only Good Witch remaining in Oz and imprisoned her." Dorothy's lips curl with disgust. "How she corrupted Glinda's purity with her filthiness."
Regina shakes her head, and then bites her lip. "I'm sorry to say I do not know of any Glinda, nor have Snow or I heard tale of her fate," she tells Dorothy regretfully. "However, as far as I know the Grove remains in tact. Zelena only wanted a leaf from the trees that grow within." Regina hates recounting the events that had lead to her coming to Oz, hates reliving that awful moment she'd found Red on the floor next to the tub, that cursed green apple with one bite missing from it clutched by stiffened fingers. Yet even though the memory brings her pain, she feels that Dorothy should be at least minimally informed as to what happened. "With that leaf, she concocted a sleeping curse that even True Love's kiss cannot break."
Dorothy gasps aloud at that, looking even more grief-stricken than before. It is clear that she blames herself for failing in her charge, even though there is little she could have done to stop Zelena when Regina only just barely managed to fend her off.
Looking up at Regina with liquid blue eyes, Dorothy appears apprehensive about discovering what happened after that, and yet compelled at the same time to know the whole truth. "What did she do with the sleeping curse?"
Regina is sure that her expression reveals the answer far before her words due to the way Dorothy blanches and falters a step. Snow reacts quickly to buttress the recovering, shell-shocked woman. Even so, Dorothy is still lightly trembling as Regina recounts Zelena's mischief.
"She applied it to an apple and then made sure that it found its way into my wife's hands while I was still asleep," she explains, averting her eyes so that a horrified Dorothy cannot see the tears that are pooling at her lids. But with her voice rough and laden with emotion, she is sure her distress is evident all the same. "It is my belief, though I cannot confirm it, that she slipped something into my wine the night before. My wife is a very early riser, and normally I am up with her, but that morning I slept nearly until noon. When I woke, I stumbled upon her already under the sway of the curse. Zelena then confronted me and confirmed what she had done. She told me she cursed my wife as a means to make me suffer."
She returns her gaze to Dorothy to find tears welling upon the woman's long lashes, apology written all over her face. For some reason, Regina feels tender toward Dorothy, perhaps because the inner strength and goodness that shine through the distress currently afflicting her is an unbidden reminder of Red. So much so that Regina's chest constricts, briefly making it difficult to draw a breath. Few would express such sympathy for strangers. That Dorothy is doing so right now is convincing evidence her new acquaintance would be a woman with whom Red would get along splendidly.
With her heart in her throat, Regina reflexively reaches to brush Dorothy's tears away. The action is achingly familiar to her, as she has done so many times for her wife.
"Do not blame yourself, my dear," she tells the grief-stricken Dorothy, who accepts the comfort with a strained smile. "It is not your fault. It's mine." Dropping her hand, she exhales slowly and shakes her head ruefully. "You see, Zelena was apparently abandoned when she was a newborn. Rather than place the blame upon our mother where it belongs, she has cast it all upon me. Everything she has done is to the end of attaining revenge for all she believes I stole from her by virtue of being born."
"But it was not you who failed to protect the Grove," Dorothy disagrees vehemently. "That was my duty and mine alone. I swore an oath to Ozma to protect it with my life, an oath I have now broken twice over. Your wife is paying the price for my ineptitude."
"That may be true," Regina says, careful to practice tact that she might win Dorothy's favor. "But I know from experience how formidable a foe Zelena is. She wields magic beyond any human I have ever encountered. There is likely nothing you could have done to stop her. I, on the other hand, can. And that is precisely why I am here."
Dorothy turns big doe eyes up at Regina that are swimming with so much more than unshed tears. It seems the young Ms. Gale is incapable of concealing her feelings, that she is one of those rare people who wears her heart on her sleeve in spite of how delicate it is or how easily such openness can lead to it being trampled upon or taken advantage of. To live that way requires a brand of bravery that Regina has never possessed, but has nonetheless come to appreciate having lived with such an individual for the past seven years. The similarities between Red and Dorothy, it seems, are approaching eerie levels.
"If she is as powerful as you say, what can you do stop her?" Dorothy inquires, appearing acutely skeptical all of the sudden. "She has crushed every enemy who dared to oppose her, and laid waste to Oz with every step she has taken. She drove Ozma into hiding, disbanded the Council of Directions, and housed me in that infernal prison for over a year. The entire time I was imprisoned, I was fully aware of what went on around me, unable to move or speak. All I could do was watch as she took great delight in sitting for hours, staring at me, laughing at me, taunting me with her words and mocking my virtue by her unspeakably vile actions. And now I find out that she has not only conquered Oz, but crossed worlds merely to curse your wife because she can. Everything she has set out to accomplish has fallen into place for her. What chance do any of us have?"
Dorothy's description of what happened to her sparks a memory from the afternoon Regina discovered Red comatose in their washroom. During the showdown with her sister, Zelena had mentioned she was previously considering adding Red to her collection. At the time, she assumed it was a veiled reference to enslaving Red by taking her heart and then forcing her to comply with untoward sexual advances. It's hard to say which fate would have been worse for Red, that or what was forced upon young Ms. Gale.
Troublesome as those thoughts are, Regina gives the brunette beauty a tender smile meant to reassure. "Our chances are not so dim as you believe, my dear. You may be correct that the tides have moved in Zelena's favor of late, but she has not been without a few setbacks of her own. I also am sorceress of renown in our world and was able to drive her away from my home, matching her magic with my own. If I did so once, I can do so again. However, if events unfold according to my plans, violence in the near future may just be entirely avoidable." When Dorothy draws her brows together in confusion, Regina explains, "Earlier, Snow and I sowed the seeds of a little misdirection. My sister currently believes us to be taking a much more circuitous route to the mountain pass leading to the Grove, which I intend to bypass altogether."
"And just how do plan on doing that?" Snow asks, finally speaking.
Regina has not bothered to read Snow in to the full details of her planned course of action. For one, Snow does not need to know for it to work. Secondly, she does not want to hear her complain about the moral ambiguity of them. And perhaps most crucially, she does not not want to take any chances with her plans being found out should the unforeseen happen and Snow wind up in Zelena's clutches. Resisting traditional attempts at coercing information may be possible for Snow, though Regina doubts even that, but there are means Zelena can employ to force the information loose without consent.
Be that as it may, now that they are so tangibly close to the goal, there is less risk involved in Snow being clued in.
"With the help of Ms. Gale here, of course," Regina replies, gesturing toward Dorothy, who nods.
"I would be happy to show you the way there," is Dorothy's agreeable response.
Regina smiles cryptically. "That won't be necessary, dear. All I require is your memory."
Dorothy opens her mouth to question Regina's enigmatic statement, but is stopped when Snow jerks in place, leans toward the door, and holds her hand up for silence.
"Did you hear that?" the former bandit asks, eyes cast down, focused on the floor as she strains to listen.
"I hear nothing," Regina tells her, and it is true. The only sounds she can detect are those of three women breathing and the faint rustling of their clothes whenever they shift footing. In the back of her mind, she wonders how Snow can hear something that she cannot and files the tidbit away for further investigation. By the look on her companion's face, whatever she is hearing is troubling. "What is it? What did you hear?"
"I don't know," Snow answers, voice worried. "It's strange. Like the sound made by a squeaky wheel on a dining cart after its gone too long without oil. Only it's jumbled up with a low pitched, almost rumbling laughter that makes my spine tingle."
Dorothy stiffens defensively at the description, eyes going wide as saucers. "Oh, no," she breathes. "They're here."
Regina narrows her eyes at the young woman. "Who, exactly, is here, Ms. Gale?" she presses, and then goes stock still. A chill shoots up her spine, starting at the base and working its way to her neck, bringing with it a shocking cold that causes her flesh to prickle and bumps to appear upon it. She hears the faint sounds of sinister, maniacal laughter, followed by the very same squeaking Snow just described. "What the hell is that?"
"It's the Wheelers," Dorothy replies, and Regina can see the abject fear written all over her. "Or rather the Witch's warped version of them. Freeing me must have alerted them. They're coming for us." Shouldering past Snow and Regina, Dorothy makes her way toward the door, suddenly in full control of her motor functions again. Adrenaline, it seems is a cure all for stasis-induced weakness. As she strides to the door, she throws back over her shoulder, "We have to leave now, before they reach the hallway. There is a concealed passageway in the guest chambers that will lead back to the scullery."
Upon reaching the door, Dorothy presses her ear against it and listens briefly. The tension builds to oppressive levels. She springs away a moment later, and when she turns back to Regina and Snow, there is a sense of urgency in her posture that indicates the time for questions is over.
"Follow me," she says, waving them to her. "Now! If they get too close, we'll all be doomed!"
Rather than object, Regina places her hand onto Snow's back and pushes the stiff-legged monarch forward. "After you," she insists. Her touch snaps Snow out of her stupor, and together they head toward Dorothy.
Once all three are gathered at the door, Dorothy carefully pries it open, then just her head out through the crack to peer both directions down the hall. The sound of the Wheelers' approach is growing noticeably louder indicating the threat has almost, yet not quite, caught up to them. Upon confirming that simple deduction visually, she throws the door fully open and then motions for them to follow her as she steps out into the hall. They dutifully obey the silent command and trail along with stealthy movements after the young woman in the blue gingham dress. After one right turn down the hallway, Dorothy barges through the very next door on the left.
Regina enters behind Snow and trails closely as her former enemy moves with Dorothy over to a bookshelf against the inner wall closest to the door. The antique piece of furniture looks perfectly ordinary to her. Its shelves, caked with several layers of dust due to poor maintenance, contain rows of volumes in various states of wear. At a glance, she recognize some as scientific texts, while some are history, and others works of poetry. It is a particularly pristine book of poetry that Dorothy reaches for. Regina starts to ask if the brunette warrior intends to bore the enemy to death by reciting trite verse, but is stricken mute when Dorothy gives the spine a forceful yank. The action releases the bookshelf from the wall to reveal a hidden passageway behind it.
Startled at the development, she follows Dorothy and Snow into the cramped tunnel, faintly illuminated by what ambient light filters in from the room. Once inside, she grimaces with unease. Cobwebs and spiderwebs dangle from the ceiling and a fine coat of dust covers every surface. The secret passage has clearly languished in disuse for some time. Regina idly wonders if wars and coups were at one point so frequent in this realm that such features were necessary additions to any castle. Her own palace features no such pathways that she is aware of, not that she would have need of them when her magic can take her anywhere she has ever visited in an instant. It seems a waste of square footage for such an intricate network to exist, although she is rather grateful at this moment that the architects who designed this palatial abode did not agree with her.
Many other questions she has for Dorothy flit through her mind then. Not only regarding the palace's construction, but about Dorothy herself and of Ozma and the general state of affairs in Oz. Being the Dark One's star pupil gave Regina more advantages than magical powers. Among those perks was access to information no one else was privy to save a select few individuals – like Jefferson – such as awareness of the many other worlds one could visit with the proper mode of transportation. Rumplestiltskin kept detailed journals of his dealings in each of them in addition to maps and various tomes of histories and knowledge pertaining to the realms. Being a voracious reader and a trophy Queen with plenty of idle time meant she devoured quite a bit of that material. Oz, sadly, was not among Rumple's records. She remembers him mentioning it once, though, and that his nose had wrinkled as he spoke of a world he declared unworthy of his time and attention. Something about a group of meddling witches and irksome tiny people maliciously wielding lollipops.
Regina is intensely curious about Oz, to say the least, but she holds her tongue in hopes a more opportune moment to bend Dorothy's ear will present itself. Resigned to keeping her mind on present circumstances and problems, she watches as their guide returns to the opening to fetch a torch from a sconce just inside the passageway. Once it is in hand, Dorothy turns the sconce she'd retrieved it from, causing the secret door to slide shut. When it seals off, they are immediately enshrouded in pitch darkness.
Regina summons a ball of light in her palm, and then with the other, indicates toward the torch. "May I?" Dorothy nods, face grave though her eyes are lit up with fascination at the magic held within Regina's palm. They flash with childlike delight when Regina snaps her fingers and sparks a fire to engulf the kindling on the torch-head. She extinguishes the magical ball of illumination and then grins at Dorothy's rapt interest while Snow rolls her eyes.
"You're such a showoff," the most diminutive member of their three woman group comments.
Regina brushes past her with a shrug to stand at Dorothy's side, but not before leaving Snow with a snarky comment. "If you got it, flaunt it." Once standing with their new companion, Regina gestures toward the darkness that awaits them down the tunnel. "Lead the way, Ms. Gale."
Drawing in a deep breath, Dorothy squares her shoulder. "Very well, follow me." And then she begins pushing down the tunnel, knocking down cobwebs as she goes.
"Well, this is certainly a useful concept," Regina comments as they make their way down the foreboding passageway. The tight quarters are making her snarky. "I'll have to commission my architects to install such a passage in my chambers, that way I can sneak out without waking Red when she starts snoring."
"Regina, now is not the time," Snow growls, and Regina can hear by the nerves in her voice that she is clearly feeling out of sorts in the enclosed and incredibly eerie space. "I'm sure Dorothy doesn't want to hear about any of Red's nocturnal noises."
"Watch it, pipsqueak," Regina snaps back, face heating up at the innuendo. "I wasn't making any sort of sordid reference."
"No, it's alright," Dorothy speaks up quickly as if attempting to head off their bickering before it gets ugly. "I'd like to know more about her." She glances back apologetically over her shoulder at Regina. "About your wife, I mean, and obviously not...well, you know." Even in the relatively dim firelight cast by the torch, Regina can see Dorothy flushing with mortification. Her innocence is almost precious.
"Of course," she acquiesces. As she talks about Red, she finds that it soothes her, calms her frayed nerves, and helps to distract her from the way the passage gets narrower as they head deeper into it. "As Snow revealed, her name is Red. It's not her given name, but one she took for herself, which is story unto itself. She is tall and very beautiful and kind to a fault. She is beloved by our people. Wherever we go, children flock around her and people strain and press in just to touch her. It infuriates me that she allows them such proximity, but she refuses to segregate herself because she loves them in a way I never can and feels she owes them the opportunity to interact with her on a physical level. She says she does it because of all they've given to her, which pretty much describes her to a tee. She is the most selfless and wonderful woman I have ever known. My greatest point of pride is to be her spouse."
"It sounds like you love her very much," Dorothy then comments as she brushes a dusty web out of her face.
Regina swallows thickly before responding. "I do. More than anything. More than my crown or my magic or my life. I wouldn't be here risking them all otherwise." Which she is in some way or another.
The threat to her life is self-explanatory considering Zelena blatantly declared intentions to kill her. But there are subtler risks involved, such as the one to her crown. Should the council view her reckless expedition as evidence of incompetence, even if it is successful it may well ignite more rebellious sentiments. And then there is the matter of Zelena, whose magic is so powerful that combating it may very well sap Regina's own for good if she cannot not find a way to subdue the Witch without wholly expending her energies.
For a magician, emptying oneself of all magical energies in any pursuit is akin to jumping off a cliff blindfolded. There is no telling what will be waiting beneath. Will it be rocks or water? Death, permanent disfigurement, or a miraculous last second salvation? The outcome, according to Rumplestiltskin, is one determined on an individual basis for which Regina has no point of reference. She has never pushed herself as far as she will have to in order to stop her sister, which is most troublesome.
Thankfully, Dorothy nods in understanding rather than pressing for elaboration, and continues to lead them down the tunnel. A moment later, she poses another question, a bit more hesitantly. "May I ask if your marriage was arranged?"
"Heavens, no!" Regina replies, as if the concept is disgusting, which it is. Personal experience taught her that.
"I didn't mean any offense. I'm sorry!" Dorothy immediately apologizes, causing Regina to recall what she'd said in her own mind. "I only ask because both in this world and even in some cases the world I'm from, people of your station generally follow such archaic traditions."
Regina is intrigued by the little tidbit of information Dorothy casually dropped of her hailing from another world. Another kernel of interesting information to file away.
"I'm not offended, dear," she says, not wanting Dorothy to think she is upset. "I didn't mean that you couldn't ask. I only meant that no, our marriage was not arranged."
Dorothy looks back behind her shoulder again, this time smiling gently. "Then you're lucky. From what I have observed, most arranged marriages are miserable. If not that, then they are most certainly empty. It's really sad people have to do that."
Regina hums her agreement. "And you'd be correct to be sad. I once was a part of such an arrangement, which is how I gained my title. It was, as you so aptly stated, a miserable life."
Regina feels Snow cringe at the tactless mention of her marriage to Leopold. She knows that Red has told Snow as much of the truth that Regina had been willing to allow the former heir to her throne access to. And while it was a highly diluted version of events, it was enough to taint Snow's memories of her father forever. Regina is not at all sorry it happened. Snow needed to know. Leopold may have been a doting father and a respected king, but he was not the saintly individual he portrayed himself as publicly.
"My husband passed more than a decade ago," she then continues, heedless of Snow's opinion on the present discussion. "I would have never consented to such a thing again. Red was my consort before she was my Queen. I chose to wed her as she did me, and it is a choice that for my part has not once been regretted."
Dorothy pauses for a moment and turns to face Regina. "It sounds like quite a romantic tale." She seems to have been affected greatly by what little she has heard, and it is endearing for Regina to know that her love story can draw such a reaction from so pure a soul as Dorothy Gale seems to be.
"It very much is," Regina smiles, "and should we escape our current predicament and complete our mission, I will gladly indulge you with recounting it. Perhaps I will even allow Red to do the telling. She loves to embellish details but her vivacious nature can make any story more intriguing."
Dorothy bites her lip and then nods. "I...I would like that. Thank you. And it would give me the opportunity to express my apologies to her. I feel as if I owe her at least that much for my part in what happened to her."
"She will disagree as the necessity of such a gesture, as do I," Regina says with a knowing smile. "Though I am sure you two will become fast friends."
Snow hums her agreement from behind Regina's left shoulder. "Regina is right," she adds. "Both in that it is not your fault and that Red will like you. She has a keen sense of people, so I know she'll see how good a person you are."
"You barely know me," Dorothy then says to Snow, face pinched with shame. "I'm not as good a person as you think I am."
Snow merely gazes at Dorothy in that sweet, serene way that used to make Regina want to strangle her. A good throttling is all she wants to give the woman these days. A vast improvement.
"We'll see about that," Snow then says, oblivious to Regina's thoughts.
"I guess we will," replies Dorothy with a weak smile, and then she turns back around and starts down the tunnel again.