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 25 – Of Lions and Tigers, Oh My
When Regina and Snow return ten minutes later, they are both shivering from the cold. It is still the dead of night and so close to the mountains the frigid air sweeping down from its icy summit cuts straight through the inadequate layers of their clothing.
With her teeth faintly chattering, Regina steps inside behind Snow to find Ozma still perched by Dorothy's beside. Apparently the deposed queen has not moved a muscle since they stepped out door to give her privacy. With some concern, she notices that while Ozma is no longer demonstratively distraught, her posture practically oozes emotional turmoil. Toto, on the other hand, has been released from his punishment and has relocated to the bed where he is currently snuggled tightly against his owner's side.
"You did not have to stay out there so long," Ozma comments, not taking her eyes off of Dorothy for even a second. "I know it is unbearably cold at night so close to the precipice of the mountain. All the same, I thank for your kind consideration." She then gestures toward a plain silver tray upon the small bedside table. Upon it are several economical tea cups and an equally plain ceramic teapot in which bags are already steeping and whose spout is still belching intermittent puffs of steam. "Would anyone care for some tea to warm up?"
"I sure wouldn't say no," replies Snow as she brushes some freshly fallen exemplars of her namesake from her shoulders that she neglected to clear off while on the porch.
When Ozma lifts an inquiring brow at Regina, she answers with a small smile. "That would be most welcome. Thank you."
After Ozma pours them both a cup and they gratefully accept them, she returns her attention to the sleeping Dorothy. As she sips delicately at the piping hot liquid, Regina intently watches their angelic hostess. There is no denying the tug at her heartstrings as she draws parallels between what she is seeing and how she spent the past week of her life.
How often had she kept vigil beside Red just like Ozma is for Dorothy right now? Was the brave face she put on so similarly to Ozma also glaringly betrayed by the abrasive distress and gnawing fear playing subtly across her features and in her eyes? Did her father and Victor and Iris and the many other friends and servants who were in and out of Red's room look pitiably upon her as she currently is Ozma? If so, there really is no point in trying to maintain appearances back home anymore. Because if she portrayed half as much poignant emotion as Ozma is trying to camouflage, everyone who so much as glimpsed it is now aware how enormous a vulnerability she has.
"By the way, you didn't have to thank us for giving you some space," Snow says after she has finished her tea and replaced it on the tray. As Regina does the same, she sends Snow a silent thanks for mercifully halting her thoughts from carrying on too far down a dangerous path. "You clearly needed time alone with Dorothy," Snow then adds, "and we were happy to let you have it. Both of us are married and have faced..." she gestures lamely, "similar circumstances. We understand how hard it is when a spouse is injured."
"I am not yet married to Dorothy," returns Ozma, seemingly bothered by that fact. "Not for a lack of trying, I should say. I have proposed time and again only to be rejected. Not that she doesn't want to get married, of course, just that she refuses to consider it until I have reclaimed my throne."
Snow smiles at the romanticism in their injured friend's resolve. "If I may ask, how long have you two been together?"
Ozma turns slightly, and then gestures with her hand toward the space beside the bed. A pillowed sofa appears in a flash of verdant light. "Please, sit, and we may converse more comfortably." When both women oblige, Ozma glaces at Dorothy again. Her eyes shimmer wistfully in the softly fire-lit room. "To answer your question, I have known of Dorothy Gale since she was but a young girl – as was I, relatively speaking. She was only twelve years old when a tornado transported her the land of Oz for the first time. During a subsequent adventure, she rescued me from the clutches of a mean old witch named Mombi who changed heads as often as she did her clothes. Not long after Mombi's defeat, she was deceived by Zelena and left our land to return home. I did not even get to say goodbye to my dashing hero. I despaired for the loss of her, for though I had only barely known her for a short time, I had followed her every moment since she was born."
Pausing for a moment, Ozma gestures to a painting over the mantel, and Regina sees that it is a pastoral piece depicting a weathered farmhouse built in a style she has never seen before. The house is surrounded by rows of corn that stretch as far as the horizon while above it is a wide blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds.
"Dorothy, you see, is not from this world," Ozma continues, "but from a realm called Earth. Incidentally, it is a land without magic, which makes Dorothy's visits here all the more miraculous. This painting was a gift to me from my mother upon my birth. She was a fairy, you see, and had enchanted it to always show me where my True Love is. When Dorothy is nearby, it merely displays the place where she was born. But when she is far away, the picture will be altered to reveal her location. Often it will even feature images of Dorothy herself."
"So it's like a magic mirror," Regina says, drawing a pleased tilt of the lips from Ozma.
"In a sense," Ozma replies. "Unlike a magic mirror, it does not respond to commands. Similarly, however, from within the confines of that very painting, I was able to watch over her. From there, I saw her grow up and flourish under the care of adoptive parents who adored her. I observed her every joy and heartache trying to fit in with other children her age who rarely understood or appreciated her. And when she returned to Earth from Oz, I beheld the unjust persecution she suffered at the hands of cruel physicians. She used that pain to forge herself into the woman you see before you now, someone whose fearlessness is unshakable, whose bravery knows no bounds, and whose beauty arrests my heart on a daily basis.
"Eventually, she returned to Oz, but she was no longer the frightened little girl who left it to escape the wrath of the Witch of the West. Now, as you have no doubt witnessed, she is a proud hero, courageous and strong. Sometimes to her own detriment. The stubborn girl immediately went and confronted the Wicked Witch at the height of her power. When she was defeated and separated from her friends, she was forced to flee into the wilderness alone. For months she was hunted relentlessly before serendipity led her up the mountainside. By the time she stumbled close enough to alert me of her presence, she was nearly freezing to death and half-starved. I had to leave the safety of this place long enough to fetch her and bring her in – not unlike how I did earlier. The risk was worth it, though. Over the next week, I nursed her back to health. We fell in love in the process and have been together ever since. That," Ozma then turns back to them, "was three years ago now."
"Best three years of my life," a rough voice says, and all three women gasp with joy to see Dorothy's eyes crack open. Despite her weakened state, there is a twinkle to their azure depths that only intensifies as she gazes up at Ozma with unfiltered devotion. "Hi, honey. I'm home," she greets in a cheeky manner. "Bit late I know but better that than never."
Ozma grins at first, exuberant at her lover regaining consciousness so quickly. Regina envies her. How she wishes Red had done the same.
"That you are, my little whirlwind. And I do appreciate you keeping your promise, even if you are dreadfully tardy," Ozma says, but then her expression abruptly turns severe. "Just the same, I'll have you know that I do not appreciate being frightened out of my wits. You could very well have died had that arrow hit you two inches to the right." Dorothy starts to respond but is unable to get a word in before Ozma barrels ahead. "Not to mention that you bled all over my favorite sheets. They are ruined, Dorothy. They were a gift from the Kinglet of Phreex. I shan't be able to easily replace them!"
Though Dorothy looks chagrined, she is markedly not terrorized by Ozma's flustered response. Rather, it softens her, makes her eyes shine even brighter, as if the morning sun has risen behind them. "I'm sorry for worrying you, babe," she says gently, fingering the wispy material of Ozma's skirts. "Believe me, I didn't intend on getting skewered by a poisoned arrow."
"She was wounded saving my life," Regina explains, feeling an unusual need to defend Dorothy. "In our escape from the Emerald City, we utilized the siege tunnels to get under the walls of the city. Unfortunately, a patrol of soldiers was waiting for us on the other side. Whether they were merely lucky or their stationing was deliberate, I can't say. They demanded us lay our weapons down, and..." she sighs, glancing apologetically at both Dorothy and Ozma. "We probably should have complied, but I am a proud woman who is not accustomed to admitting defeat. I refused, their archer shot at me, and Dorothy shoved me out of the way, intercepting the missile meant to kill me. I owe her my eternal gratitude for that. And although you have every right to be frightened and upset, Queen Ozma, perhaps the heroics of your beloved might ameliorate that irritation."
"Bah," Dorothy grunts, flushing bashfully at the praise. "Anyone would have done the same. What I did wasn't all that heroic."
"I happen to think it was," Regina disagrees, and Snow adds her own agreement to the disagreement.
"Well, in the light of that helpful information, I am inclined to grant you mercy this once," drawls Ozma, clearly enjoying the banter now as she playfully winks at Snow and Regina.
"Why, thank you, Your Royal Majesty," Dorothy retorts, frowning petulantly. "However shall I repay you for such undeserved charity?"
Ozma grins impishly and then pats Dorothy's hand. "We will see to that after you are fully recovered, my pet," she quips, and then squeals with delight when Dorothy groans, blushing to the roots of her hair. "Your farm girl innocence is so precious. Never change, Dorothy Gale. Never, ever change!" The fairy queen's declaration is given around fits of giggles that sound to Regina as if the ringing of whimsical chimes that dance upon the air. So enchanting is Ozma's merriment that it instantly uplifts her spirits.
In response to the affectionate teasing, Dorothy levels a faux-offended glare at her paramour, which only makes Ozma giggle more. She then drolly says to Regina and Snow, "Do you see what I have to put up with? She teases me like this all the time."
"Be grateful she is here to do so," Regina replies, smiling despite the pangs in her heart that Ozma and Dorothy's interactions have created. "Seeing you two this way makes me sick for home. For my Red. I'd give anything to hear her call me a no fun stick in the mud right now. Only I can't because she's...she's..."
Trailing off, Regina's face falls as images of Red assault her memory. She was so ghastly still in that bed, so quiet and lifeless. How Regina longs for the days when Red's exuberance would drive her mad while attempting to get important work done in her study. And, oh, how she misses the playful needling that never fails to irritate her into tossing back sarcastic retorts which only fuel Red's amusement at her expense. No one else would dare to provoke her so boldly, even in jest, but Red does so with brazen regularity.
"I've long since stopped being afraid of your temper, woman. Whatever you dish out, I can take," Red had once replied after receiving a knee-jerk threat from Regina that continued prodding would swiftly land her neck deep in troubled waters.
Regina fondly remembers the stirring low in her abdomen that confident assertion had sparked to life, and how she'd advanced on Red like a lioness on the prowl, her canine prey firmly in her sights. She dished out quite a bit of pleasurable punishment on that particular night and was not disappointed when Red more than backed up her boasting.
Their banter is something that Regina has come to treasure, as she is sure is true for Ozma and Dorothy. Such repartee between a couple is a sign of a healthy relationship; it means that they are secure enough with one another to push the boundaries of propriety or offense without fear that their loved one will turn against them. With Red, Regina is free to unharness her verbal expressions at both ends of the spectrum, whether with heartfelt declarations of love or with harsh criticisms of behaviors that rub her the wrong way. No one else is her equal in this way.
In all of her years as Queen, she never met anyone who matched her fondness for witticisms, one-liners, and sassy rejoinders until Red waltzed into her life. Their verbal sparring matches are often the talk of the castle, particularly when they are animated or loud or both. Then, even the closed doors of their private chambers do not dampen the barbs being flung about the room. Unlike with everyone else who got too close, she could never quite manage to drive Red away with her razor sharp tongue. On the contrary, Red seemed to relish the challenge of being with someone who thought being ornery was an acceptable method of showing affection. It was her Granny's fault, she claimed more than once, that she grew up to appreciate a woman whose bark is every bit as dangerous as her bite.
Engaging conversation in the pre-Red era was woefully lacking. Mostly she settled for stimulating her brain via reading as there were few people in the castle she considered capable of nuanced discussion about the complexities of governing, or philosophy, or the shady traditions that were practiced by the various religions active within her borders and within the wider world outside her kingdom. She'd never imagined a staunch believer in celestial deities would turn out to be the one she would engage in lively debate with about the merits of permitting the practice of that religion as a viable means of population control. Or that a peasant could offer sage advice on state affairs or hold her own in discussions revolving around potential construction projects that would benefit the realm. But it seems that Red exists to prove Regina's perceptions wrong at ever turn. As remarkable a physical specimen as she is, she has an intellectual capacity that she guards closely behind that envious curtain of hair and a far-too-pretty face.
One cold winter night early in their relationship, Regina can remember laying curled up on the lounger in her study with her lover of just over six months. A roaring fire, their blankets, comfortable silken night clothes, and their shared body heat kept them warm as they talked well into the night. That was a new thing for Regina, just enjoying the casual yet intimate conversation with the person she was sharing a bed with.
At the time, she was still trying to convince herself that she wasn't in love with Red and failing spectacularly in the light of how different their relationship was. She was not the kind of woman to allow her lovers to sleep alongside her when sex was not involved in the transaction. Even then cuddling was out of the question. Red disregarded those aversions with an abandon that was initially shocking. As their relationship progressed, so too did Regina's appreciation of their rapidly developing domesticity. Luxuriating in the pure acceptance and marrow-deep contentment that exists between them, without the pressure of unreasonable expectations demanding she give more of herself than she is ready to, is every bit as fulfilling as their incredible physical bond.
That particular night they were discussing Regina's plans institute an emergency welfare program based on taxing exclusive luxury items when Red suggested expanding it into a food program for the destitute. There were vast tracts of land owned by the crown, she explained, that were perfectly suitable to grow stock crops on that were most conducive to long term storage, such as grain, corn, beans, onions, carrots, and hardy varieties of potatoes. The idea was so inspired, Regina decided to implement it right away. The measure was one of her first significant strides toward improving her general standing with her citizens.
"No one ever wanted my opinion on things like that back home," Red had told her later that night after they'd discussed some other complicated topics Regina wanted to gauge the waters of Red's interest on. "I didn't really do well in school. The wolf inside me kept my brain scrambled up, so it was hard for me to concentrate. To be honest, I thought I was either half-crazy or all stupid. 'A pretty face,' my teachers used to say, 'is all that Lucas girl is and all she'll ever be.' I can't say I ever considered they might be wrong."
She'd shrugged and bit her lip diffidently, trying to hide how poorly she'd taken the words. It was clear to Regina, though, that they'd been like poison that seeped into her soul and corrupted her self-confidence. Her heart ached for Red in the present and seethed in anger on her behalf over the past.
Even though Regina had grown up with a mother who was nothing short of a dictator, Cora had the good sense to drill her into recognizing that beauty was a temporary weapon. Accordingly, she was taught to brandish it whenever possible in her youth, which she did and to great effect. But her brain, as was reiterated time and again, was to always be her secret weapon, for it was the greatest asset she had available to her, and one that would keep her on top of the world long after her physical allure dimmed.
Red, on the other hand, was told over and over that her beauty was the total sum of her life. Instructors with straw for gray matter insisted she had nothing of value to offer the world save for giving the world every opportunity to leer at her. It infuriated Regina that she was treated so shoddily, and it made her want to return to Red's village and track down those teachers so that she could rub their noses in the success of the girl they had proclaimed would never amount to anything more than a back to labor with, legs to spread for her future husband, and a belly with which to produce another generation to serve as fodder for the crown. It would have been delicious to watch them fawn all over their new Queen in all of her splendor. Perhaps she might even have made them lick the muddy soles of Red's slippers. The idea was certainly tempting.
The only reason she did not enact that fantasy was because she knew Red would disapprove. Even so, she had endeavored to set right those wrongs in anyway she could, mostly by ensuring Red always felt safe to express her opinion without fear of dismissive scorn or cruel mocking and that her input was valued and appreciated. To bolster a lackluster confidence, she fostered a love of reading in her new paramour, encouraged Red to actively seek out learning any new skills that piqued her interest, and availed her of every scholar and tutor in the kingdom should she wish to study a subject. To her delight and admittedly excessive pride, Red took her up on that offer.
The fruits are plain for all to see. In the seven years they have been together, Red has mastered two new languages, versed herself in court politics so that she is now adept at maneuvering through noble society, and has even learned enough of the fiscal side of ruling a kingdom that she pitches in to help Regina from time-to-time whenever the business of maintaining a vast, powerful, and wealthy state is overwhelming.
And yet, even though Red blossomed intellectually and became more sophisticated in the ways of the world – both by a concerted effort and by consequence of whom she had married – she somehow managed to ward off the mean transformation most elevated peasants undergo. To this day, she remains an ordinary girl who loves to laugh at silly things and dance in the rain and sing songs at the top of her lungs while she imbibes copious amounts of ale with her friends at the tavern. Becoming a royal did not fundamentally change Red as it has so many others. Rather, it merely afforded her the necessary room to spread her wings as far as they would unfurl and taught her boldness that in the process of time inspired courage to leap from the nest and fly. To Regina, watching Red soar through life on the brisk winds of her own capabilities is the most beautiful sight in the world, and she desperately wants to see it again.
"Don't worry. We'll save her," says Dorothy, breaking Regina out of her reverie. There is a promise written in those steely eyes and her words are spoken as an unbreakable oath. "Just give me a few minutes and I'll accompany you to the grove so you can retrieve what you need to counteract that witch's curse."
"You most certainly will not," Ozma objects, tone commanding more than a simple stating of her wishes. "You need to rest for at least a day before moving. I'll not hear of you putting yourself back in harm's way before you are properly healed. I mean that, too, Dorothy Gale!"
Dorothy begins to protest being dictated to, but Regina holds up her hand to stop it. "It is night yet, and I see little reason for us to continue our journey this very hour. Besides that, Snow and I could also use some rest. Snow is a little out of shape," which draws a whiny complaint she ignores, "and I need to recuperate my energy. Transporting us here drained significant portions of my energy. I will need every last ounce to defeat my sister should she arrive at the Grove earlier than planned."
When Ozma's eyebrows raise in a silent question, Regina explains their successful attempt at subterfuge which has Zelena looking for them where they are not.
"You are a clever one, aren't you?" returns Ozma, lips quirked up at the edges, inordinately pleased that someone has finally managed to one-up the source of her every trouble.
Regina smirks proudly. "I like to think so. Having said that, if you would be so gracious as to grant us permission, I see no reason why we cannot stay here tonight. We can further discuss our plans for the grove in the morning."
Ozma nods and gives her an accommodating smile. "That is an acceptable compromise." She then quirks an eyebrow at her partner. "What about you, darling? Can you agree to those terms?"
Drawing in a deep breath, Dorothy lets it out slowly through her nose and grumbles, "Fine. One night." And then she crosses her arms over her chest, a defiant look settling over her features. "But first thing in the morning, I intend to be out of this bed, Ozma. So don't get any bright ideas about conking me out or restraining me with magic, even if it is 'for your own good, Dorothy Gale.'"
"Why, I would never resort to such underhanded tactics!" Ozma gasps, hands at her chest in a dramatic show of affront.
Dorothy's brows raise to her hairline as she gives Ozma a crooked grin. They are about to begin bantering again, and Regina is torn between thinking it adorable and disgusting. When the thought occurs to her that this is what she and Red probably are like most of the time, she supposes she can allow it to fall into the category of adorable. Only since Ozma is infinitely fascinating, though, and because Dorothy has earned her respect. Yes, she tells herself, only because of that…
"Oh?" Dorothy shoots back, brow arched. "What about that time I got my foot caught in a fox trap and you tied to me to this very same bed for two whole days just so I wouldn't get up and walk around on it!"
Ozma shrugs and studies her fingernails. "It was snowing outside if you'll remember. I couldn't risk you tripping up and freezing to death because you are too stubborn for your own good. And besides that I enjoy doting on you. The sight of you in bonds and at my mercy was merely icing on the cake."
Dorothy glares at her and then turns conspiratorial eyes on Regina. "Is your wife ever as obstinate as this one over here?"
Regina barks out a laugh. "Oh, my dear, you really have no idea." She settles back into the sofa and recrosses her legs as she begins to tell a story that she often recounts just to embarrass Red. "There was this one time I wanted to take her to a circus that was passing through the realm. My father took me several times as a child, but she'd never been before. I thought it would be something she would enjoy because she is a fairly rabid nature lover. I was wrong. She would simply not hear of it.
"'Did you know they have lions and tigers?' she asked me, just so deadly serious that it was more comical than convincing. I had heard that, of course, and seen it in person which was why I wanted to take her in the first place. When I told her that, she shot back, 'Well, you just go on your own then, 'cause there is no way in hell I'm getting within a mile of those… those…beasts.'"
Regina chuckles as she remembers the exchange, how she'd barely held herself together to keep from laughing at Red's obvious disquiet. She continues the tale, a smile splitting her cheeks. "'What's this?' I replied, watching her shudder from head to toe, 'Is my Big Bad Wolf scared?'
"'Am I scared?' she said, 'Of freakishly big, vicious, terrible, smelly felines? You bet your tanned little ass I am! Some things are just unnatural! Hell, woman, I'd rather eat Victor's cooking for a year than get within a hundred feet of them. So, I don't care how much I love you or how much you beg me, I'm not going.' and by the gods, she was right. I could not convince her to go no matter how hard I tried."
By the end of the story, everyone is in peals of laughter, including Regina. Finding herself relaxed and on a roll, she launches into another story about the time Red refused help decorating for Yuletide and wound up with scratches all over her arms from the wreaths and endless strings of garland tangled in her hair. After that, Snow volunteers one of her own about Charming spending an entire day mucking the royal stables – in the nude – because he lost a ridiculous bet with Grumpy he was too proud to call off. Regina files that information away in her memory for later use as blackmail material. Dorothy then pipes up with one about a hilarious adventure Ozma had chasing Toto when he took off after a rabbit while she had him out on a walk. Next, Ozma animatedly relates an equally amusing tale about Dorothy nearly burning the cabin down trying to cook. Before they know it they have chattered away well into the night.
Needless to say, they are all tired, yawning, and ready to retire for the night by the time the fire is on its last embers so that Snow has to stoke it and add a few logs. Despite that, and in spite of the circumstances, Regina can't help but feel positive about her prospects for success and far more happy in general than she should. As such, she doesn't argue when Ozma calls an end to their commiseration, citing Dorothy's recent run in with an angry arrow as an impetus to force her to try and get some more rejuvenating sleep.
After tucking Dorothy back in, the rightful ruler of Oz escorts Regina and Snow into a spare room that is bare and nondescript save for a few lifelike paintings of forests. One artwork depicts a wintry coniferous piece while the other portrays a deciduous forest in autumn that is characterized by leaves that seem to gleam upon the canvass in brilliant shades of orange and yellow and red and gold.
With a flick of her wrist, Ozma summons two beds into the unfurnished room, one in each corner, topped by thick blankets and smooth looking sheets. The casual display of power would have been something Regina would normally gush over if she was not so exhausted.
"I apologize for the lack of suitable accommodations," the fairy queen comments once the beds are in place. "It is not my guest chambers back in the Palace, but it will have to do."
"Don't apologize. This is wonderful," Snow replies as she traipses over to the bed she's chosen and sits upon it. She bounces up and down a few times, a satisfied smile on her face. "When I was an outlaw, I got used to sleeping on the ground, so I'm good with anything remotely soft. This is more than adequate for my needs."
"Which explains so much in your choice of a husband," Regina quips, and is surprised that Snow laughs, having actually found her joke humorous rather than offensive.
Again, Regina is stricken by a bout of ungainly happiness, and this time she almost feels bad for allowing herself even a solitary moment of joy amidst all of this tragedy. But she knows it is important to stay positive. For Red's sake. She cannot afford to let her anxieties rule her mind or her heart, for if they do, she will surely fail the test when it comes, and to fail the test means certain death for her, or at the very least, to lose Red forever. Regina is not ready to die, and she is not ready to let go of Red, so she clings to the warmth of the friendship she has just experienced, and lets it carry her through the loneliness of a night away from home, a night away from the woman who will forever hold her heart hostage.
"Good night, my love," she whispers into the night a few minutes later once Ozma is gone and she and Snow are both buried beneath the luxurious covers. She allows her eyes to slip shut against the tears that gather in them, turns to the wall, and then murmurs as if speaking into Red's ear. "Even so far away, I feel you in my heart, like if I reached out, I could touch you. I love you so much. I don't say it enough, but I swear I'll make amends when I fix this. And I am going to fix this, Red. I'm going to save you. I don't care what I have to do. You are too precious a commodity in this unforgiving world to be wasted on my sister's lust for revenge. I won't allow her or anyone else to take you away from me."
"Did you say something, Regina?" Snow asks from across the room, sluggish voice indicating she is half-asleep already.
Regina bites her lip painfully to steady her thumping heart and to quell her urge to cry. "No, Snow. Go to sleep," she replies, surprisingly able to keep her tone even with an appropriate hint of annoyance.
"Oh," Snow says around yawn. "Well, then, goodnight again."
"Good night."
And with that, Regina takes a long, steady breath and then lets it out slowly. She filters through her memories for one by which to lull herself to sleep. She chooses a day she'd been persuaded to go fishing at a nearby lake with Red and her father. In her mind, she can hear the sounds of Red laughing until she was crying after her father overextended himself in a particularly spirited cast of his fishing pole that landed him face first in the sticky mud lining the banks. That was such an amazing day, and she wants to have many, many more of them, as many as she can fit into a year's time over decades and decades of a life spent together with her family. She will settle for nothing less.
Unbeknownst to her, she falls asleep with a smile on her face to the image of her wife and her father sitting shoulder to shoulder upon a boulder by the shore. Their matching looks of contentment as they stare out over the peaceful waters under a low-hanging sun warm her from the inside out. As the serenity of that moment echoes in her heart, sleep claims her and she knows no more..