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 28 – The Sacred Grove of Ozma
A light snow is sprinkling upon the mountain when Regina and her companions appear at the Jade Gate. The air has a bitter, sawtooth bite that lances through her clothing every time a gust of wind passes through the clearing. And although the sight of the snow falling upon the walls before them and the sheer cliffs that surround them is awe inspiring, she has no time to savor it. The second the spell dissipates, Dorothy pales and sways in place.
Regina swears at herself as she rushes to help Snow keep Dorothy upright. She had neglected to account for their friend's recent injury. It was an oversight that came all too easily considering the third party member was strapping young woman who looked fully recovered. Of all people, Regina ought to know that appearances are deceiving, especially where it concerns headstrong individuals who cannot abide being bedridden for any amount of time. Red is one such individuals, as is Dorothy it seems. Yet another commonality between them, and not a good one if anyone should care to consult Regina about it.
"Are you alright?" she asks after a moment after Dorothy's eyes have stopped swimming and she has stopped tottering around like a drunken sailor.
Dorothy rubs her forehead, appearing to be fighting a headache, which is not an uncommon side-effect for those not accustomed to traveling magically. Perhaps her spell was not injury related after all. Or perhaps it is a combination of factors...
"I'm fine," Dorothy replies, still holding tight to Regina's forearm. "I just – I suddenly got really dizzy."
"That happens to some people," Regina tells her, recalling a conversation along similar lines not that long ago. "Not everyone handles their physical matter being transported the same way, and the further the distance, the more pronounced the effect."
"Good thing we didn't try this from the Emerald City then," Snow states wryly, and Dorothy groans at the thought of how sick that would have made her.
"Indeed," confirms Regina, allowing a hint of humor. "It is also a good thing she was half-conscious when we transported to the cabin. I'm afraid our resilient new friend here was going to pass out whether she was injured or not."
Dorothy's eyes narrow at that, and Regina's grin widens. "Are you mocking me?" the brunette asks, echoing the humor of the situation.
Regina chuckles wryly. "Wouldn't dream of it, dear." Sadly her good humor does not last.
Nearby, looming large and foreboding, stands the only barrier keeping her from obtaining that for which she had journeyed to Oz. Salvation for Red lies just inside the gilded gate, growing upon the very trees from which Zelena had concocted her nefarious curse. Regina is so close to her goal that if it weren't for the protective wards barring entry to those of her moral ambiguity, she was literally a matter of yards away. As a result of that tantalizing proximity, all else falls by the wayside.
Eager to make haste, she shoulders her way between her two companions and steps toward the gates. Dorothy's memory of them was adequate but had not done their magnificence justice. The walls to either side of the gate tower thirty feet in the air, spanning a length of perhaps twice that between the horseshoe shaped scaling cliffs the Grove has been carved into. Two great spires flank the gates themselves, constructed as if the emerald horns of a unicorn that shoot up into the sky another twenty feet beyond the walls, and when the sun hits them, they glimmer iridescently from top to bottom.
Up close, the surface of the gate itself sparkles in the sunlight. Upon studying it more closely, she can see that millions of tiny green specks dot the otherwise smoothly polished bronze metal composing the gates, embedded by magic and radiating both energy and incandescent beams of light. A seal adorns the center of the gates, split down the middle between the two sides, and which depicts the same design Ozma had worn upon her brow and which had decorated the sigil Dorothy used to open the recessed access to the shaft leading into the siege tunnels.
In all, the entire structure imposing but beautiful, and in the design Regina can recognize fingerprints belonging to both the exceedingly proud and lavish dwarves whose craftiness engineered the structure and the otherworldly fairy Queen Ozma who commissioned the construction. Like the siege tunnels built beneath the Emerald City, the gates and the striking gray granite wall that comprise the structure are a feat of engineering that leaves her breathless.
"These walls are beautiful and awe inspiring at first," Dorothy comments upon seeing Regina's wonderment. "But after months of guarding them, they start to look like any other fortification."
"I never asked, but why were you posted here?" Regina asks without looking at Dorothy. She continues to gaze at the gates, whose surface is so highly polished that her image is reflected back to her in perfect detail. "It seems a waste for a warrior such as yourself to be stationed in so remote an area."
"There is a good reason," Dorothy says, and Regina meets her eyes within the bronze glass of the gates. "My friends, the munchkins, caught wind of a plot to desecrate the Grove. When I investigated their report on my own, I discovered that Zelena had her sights set on obtaining a leaf from the trees that grow within. I was not aware at the time what she wanted it for, but now that I am, I wish I could have done more to prevent her from taking it."
Regina turns to look at Dorothy, bothered by the regret in her voice. "As I said earlier, there is little you could have done," she tells the brunette in gingham. "Zelena is not a foe that can be defeated by sword or arrow. Sadly her magic nullifies your bravery. But even if there was something else you could have done, now is not the time to entertain regrets. We have other business to attend to at present."
"Agreed," returns Dorothy, her voice gaining resolve. "So, now that we're here, what's our next move?"
Regina backs away from the gates a few steps and then gestures for Snow to join them. "Snow, here, will open the gates and go in to retrieve the bark," she says as the aforementioned steps up next to her other side. Then, to Dorothy, she adds, "While she does that, you and I will stand guard. I don't expect my sister to show up, but we can't be too careful."
Snow makes a whiny noise of disapproval. "Why can't I stand guard with you now that we have Dorothy here to open the gates?"
Dorothy winces subtly enough that Regina would have missed it had she not been hyper aware of her surroundings, including the two women who had accompanied her to the gates. As it is, she notices the strange reaction and raises a sable brow in Dorothy's direction because she knows what it means.
"I'm not opposed to that change in plan," she says, watching Dorothy carefully. "But it appears Ms. Gale is. Whatever is the matter, dear?"
"I can't open the gate," she confesses, voice smaller than Regina has ever heard it.
"Why not?" Snow asks, mystified. "The pure of heart are supposed to be able to open the gates, or at least, that is what we were told."
"And that is true," Dorothy says, a pained expression on her face. "I, however, am no longer pure of heart."
Although Regina is not taken aback by the admission, Snow splutters and stares as if unable to comprehend what she has just been told. When she catches Dorothy frowning at the way she is staring, she blushes slightly.
"I'm sorry for staring," she offers in apology, "but I must say that I am stunned to hear you say that."
"As was Ozma," Dorothy sighs.
Regina's curiosity takes over, superseding her tact. "May I ask how you darkened your heart?"
Dorothy nods, if a bit reluctantly. "It happened while I was back in Kansas. After my trip to Oz, people were not very accepting of either my version of events or of my...inclinations." Her brows furrow at the mention of this persecution. "My aunt and uncle tried to protect me as best they could, but they are simple farm folk, and our more affluent neighbors complained to the local sheriff. They said I was crazy and that I was corrupting their children. Which is ridiculous since none of them would let me near their kids."
A deep breath follow, and Dorothy looks stricken by what she is about to say next. "About six months after I returned home from Oz," she continues, "some men in white uniforms came and took me by force from my Aunty Em and Uncle Henry. I was just a girl at the time, barely thirteen years old, but I can remember how scared I was, how I struggled and screamed and cried for help as I was dragged away. But there was nothing my family could do. Against my will, I was thrown into an asylum – that's a place in my world for crazy people. They called my admission a treatment program for mental rehabilitation, but really it was just an excuse for the doctors to inundate me with drugs and shock my brains over and over with electricity in an attempt to correct me of ailments that are not ailments at all. I was there over a year before my family convinced a judge to let me out."
Regina winces at the mention of a girl of such tender age being hauled off to gods knows where simply because she is different. Such an instance of injustice is a travesty, but sadly not at all unheard of even in the Enchanted Forest. Regina knows of a number of girls and boys who have been punished severely or even banished for being caught cavorting with members of their own sex. What is even more deplorable is that there are even villages that burn such people at the stake.
It shames her that she was once a person who believed such individuals to be aberrant deviants who were merely getting their just rewards. To be fair, she had never considered bedding a woman until her taste for men was somewhat ruined by Leopold. She had also been raised to practice intolerance by her mother, who loathed homosexuals for a reason she was never made privy to.
She can remember a time when her own handmaid, a pretty and sweet young lady named Joan, was caught in an intimate embrace with her best friend, Mary, another of Regina's favorite maids. To say Cora had overreacted was an understatement. After having all of the household servants summoned to the courtyard, Mary was bound to a fence post and stripped down to the waist. Joan was then forced to scourge her lover until the girl's back was in tatters and she had long since passed out. Although Regina disagreed with such a lifestyle at the time, she was horrified by her mother's barbaric lesson. Just not enough to lodge even the tiniest form of protest.
"Let this be a lesson to you all," Regina's mother had then declared, eyes never leaving Regina's as two burly men dragged the bloody and unconscious Mary away while Joan was left to sob in the mud. "There is no quarter in this house for such perversion. Further indiscretions will be similarly dealt with."
Regina had understood the inference, that it was a warning more for her than for the servants, who were already terrified of their mistress. Why her mother had felt the need to do so was a mystery to her until the first time she kissed another woman not long after Leopold's death. After suffering so long under Leopold's hand, she hadn't been able to stomach the though of sex with another man, so she'd turned to one of her few friends – if she could even be called that – among the female nobility. While she enjoyed the affair for what it was and even came to understand she was attracted to both sexes, she also recognized that taking a woman as a lover was a subconscious rebellion against her mother. She'd slept with her fair share of women since but she kept them all at arm's length so that none of them ever managed to sneak in past the carefully constructed defenses erected around her heart. Until Red, that is.
It was Red that made her realize her attraction to women was not merely carnal. Red's beauty was undeniable even from the start, but there had been something else about those big, innocent green eyes that captivated her. Like a witless moth, she was enticed ever closer until she was caught up in a web of passion, besieged by tender touches and heartfelt kisses that captivated her. Making love with Red wasn't like it had been with all of those other women. It was consuming, yes, and intense, and orgasmic in ways that often left Regina with stars in her eyes and a general inability to control her limbs. What differentiated their couplings was that the experience was more than their bodies craving that intimate connection. With each encounter, they were forging an indissoluble bond between their hearts and souls.
After seven years of being with Red, Regina cannot imagine being thrown into such a horrific sounding place simply for being in love with someone who just so happened to be of the same sex. She pities Dorothy, and is even more angry on her behalf.
Dorothy bites her lip so hard that Regina is afraid she might draw blood, and when she begins to speak again, there are tears in her eyes of bitterness and rage and hatred that Regina is all too familiar with. It is a look she saw many times in her own visage upon peering into her magic mirror. Her heart aches for her new friend.
"That place was a nightmare," Dorothy then says, and Regina can tell just how bad it really was for Dorothy by the tone of her voice, which trembles slightly under the weight of awful memories. "For the first three months, I was too drugged up during the day to know what was going on, but I cried myself to sleep every night when they wore off. When the doctors decided the drugs and daily therapy weren't working, they started the electroshock treatments. Those almost broke me. It was there that I learned how to conquer my fears, how to be brave and never show my pain. It was also the place where I learned how to hate. I'm afraid the darkness that entered my heart there will never depart."
"It won't," Regina tells her bluntly, wishing she could say something to diffuse Dorothy's turmoil. But Regina has never been one to mince words, and she also feels that Dorothy is the kind of woman who appreciates honesty however difficult the truth is to swallow. "I have much experience with the subject. Hatred was once my dearest friend, and it was thoughts of revenge that kept me warm at night."
She feels Snow shrivel up as she speaks, so she glances at the woman she had once held responsible for those feelings taking root in her heart. Rather than rub it in as she might have before she learned how to love again, she shoots a small yet meaningful smile to Snow intended to reassure her that she doesn't blame her anymore. Snow returns the smile, but does not add any opinions of her own. With age, she thinks, Snow has not only become more trustworthy but, and perhaps most importantly, much wiser.
Regina then returns her attention to Dorothy. "I've since learned that there is more to life than the darkness. But sadly once it enters your heart, it can never be totally driven out. It may fade with time and much patient love, but it will always stain you."
"I figured as much," replies Dorothy, her tone telling Regina that she had already come to that conclusion herself and was simply having it confirmed by an outside source. "Thankfully, I have Ozma to brighten my days and anchor my dreams at night. She's been a balm to me, to my troubles, ever since I came back to Oz."
Regina understands exactly how Dorothy feels. "As Red is for me, which is why I'm here. And on that note -"
Pausing, she turns to focus on Snow once more. With how disturbed she appears over what has been said, Regina is again surprised the perpetually hopeful brat hadn't spouted out some nonsense about the ability of love to heal the heart and purge all darkness from it. But perhaps what has happened to Red along with their little adventure has taught Snow a valuable lesson about life that she has needed to learn for a very long time. Namely that the struggle with darkness never ends once that insidious force gets a foothold in the door.
The concept that evil cannot be eradicated from a heart once it has succumbed to temptation is nigh on impossible to grasp for a woman who has maintained her innocence through tragedies that would have driven lesser individuals either mad with grief or insane with hatred. As a person who has been on both ends of that particular spectrum, Regina cannot put herself in Snow's place. She doesn't know what it's like for so pure a person to hear such brutally realistic outlooks on life. All she knows is that it is dangerous to live as naively as Snow once did. That brand of blind optimism was what got people trampled upon or destroyed by the cruel realities of living in an unforgiving world. It was what allowed her to lie to Snow for over eight years and then drive her out of her own home, paint her as a villain when she had been innocent save for her naivete, and then hunt her down like she was a common criminal.
But it seems like Snow is finally growing up, and it is high past time in Regina's opinion.
"Well, my dear," she says to Snow, who perks up at being addressed. "It looks like you're up."
Rather than approach the gate, Snow looks at Dorothy uncertainly. "What am I supposed to do?"
Dorothy points toward the seal in the center of the gates. "Merely touch the seal. If you are, indeed, pure of heart, the gates will open to you. If not, you will be rejected."
That information causes Snow to gasp. She clutches at her chest nervously. "What do you mean by 'rejected'?"
"You will be incapacitated," Dorothy elaborates. She looks concerned at Snow's behavior, and Regina shares that worry. She moves to stand to Dorothy's left so that they are both looking at Snow, who is growing more anxious by the second. "Are you afraid that you will fail the test?" Dorothy then asks.
Snow bites her lip diffidently, and turns big eyes up to them. There is very little confidence in those green irises, and that raises doubt in Regina as to Snow's ability to actually do what she is here to do.
"How can I not be?" Snow replies rhetorically. "My best friend's life is on the line, and I...I did things as a bandit that I'm not proud of. I stole things from people, and even killed a few of Regina's soldiers. What if those misdeeds blackened my heart? What if I'm not worthy anymore and that is what winds up costing Red her life?! I don't think I could bear being the cause of my best friend's death."
Her focus turns to Regina then, and the sheer volume of despair radiating from her body is enough to set Regina's heart to racing. The possibility they could fail after coming so far to something she had taken for granted as a given makes her weak in the knees. But rather than panic, she steels herself and takes solace in what she knows to be true with every fiber of her being. The heart of this tiny woman before her is pure as her namesake, for were it not, she would not be looking at Regina the way she is now, completely torn up inside over the infinitesimally small chance that she will fail someone she loves.
Striding forward, Regina places her arms upon Snow's shoulder and fixes her with a stern expression.
"Listen to me," she commands, and Snow does so, chin quivering and eyes glistening with tears. Her button nose is red from the cold, and it adds a layer of misery to her expression that tugs at Regina's mostly blackened heart. "If there is one thing I know about you, it is that your heart is free of corruption. And I can prove it with one question that you must answer honestly. Are you prepared to do that even if you don't want to?"
At Snow's fervent nod, Regina reaches up to cup her cheek with one hand, leaving the other in place on her shoulder as an encouraging anchor. She wipes away a stray tear with her thumb, and with more emotion in her voice than she has allowed to show since Daniel's death when speaking to Snow White, poses her simple but extremely loaded question: "Do you love me?"
Snow stiffens as if stricken, and she gasps out her dismay. Seconds pass as she fights against herself, her visage a mixture of fear, self-loathing, embarrassment, and hope.
"Snow, do you love me?" Regina repeats more firmly, squeezing at Snow's shoulder in a way that is meant to assure the conflicted woman that she need not let those emotions keep her from uttering a truth that Regina is already aware of. Regina's eyes flash, and as she stares at Snow, brown irises meeting green, she is screaming at Snow, 'just say it! I already know! Just say the words!"
Finally after another half minute of prevarication, Snow deflates, sinking forward into Regina's grasp. "Yes," she admits, her voice a whisper that cuts through the air as if had been shouted at the top of her lungs. "Yes, I love you. I always have."
"And that is why I know your heart is pure, Snow White," Regina tells her. "After what I did to you, you could not love me otherwise. So, take courage. Be the person that won the hearts of an entire kingdom as little girl and who grew up, in direct contravention of my numerous attempts to prevent that from happening, into a Queen who is revered by her subjects for her unwavering kindness and equitable justice. And if you cannot take my word for it, then believe Red. Her confidence in you is unshakable. To this day she believes you to be the best person she has ever met, an assertion I can in no way refute. If not for me, do this for Red, Snow. Honor her faith in you by having faith in yourself."
Snow looks so touched by Regina's speech that Regina thinks for a moment she might cry. But then she straightens, her posture instantly improving. Shoulders back, head held high, she nods. "You're right. Thank you."
Regina gives her a smirk. "Of course I'm right. Now, get your ass in gear and do what you came here to do."
There is no hesitance at all when Snow turns and approaches the gate and then touches the seal upon it. All of her previous fears have been dispelled. The second her palm touches the surface, a sheet of green magic appears over the gate, much as it had over the walls of the Emerald City, and it shimmers for several seconds before drawing like a curtain. With the release of the magic, the gates automatically part, groaning upon their hinges as they separate to reveal the grove hidden inside.
Unable to enter, all Regina can do is stare in utter amazement. Whereas snow is falling outside, coating everything in a thin layer of white, inside the gates there is only spectacular verdancy. Lush grass carpets the ground as far as her eyes can see and there are radiant leaves upon the trees which themselves are bearing apples of a vibrant green the like of which cannot be equaled in the wild or by the crafty hands of men.
She is dumbfounded by the beauty of this sanctum consecrated to nature amidst the harsh climate of the mountain, but the sight of those blasted apples sends a ball of nausea into the pit of her stomach. She idly wonders if she'll ever be able to lift the ban on them she instituted in the palace after having the sight of a sampled one clenched between Red's stiff fingers. Her chest seizes painfully as she relives that moment. Having been the vehicle to deliver Zelena's nefarious curse has greatly diminished her love of the fruit. She hasn't even visited her beloved tree once since Red was cursed.
"It's so beautiful," Snow says, sounding almost far away due to the reverential tone she has adopted. "Her voice...so beautiful, like a melody: gentle and wistful upon the air. I have to go to her. I need to go to her."
The almost coerced nature of those words snap Regina out of the troublesome memory just in time that Regina watches Snow step forward and start towards the inside of the sanctuary. Her movements are absentminded, almost as if her legs are moving of their own volition, like she is being pulled by a magnetic force from within that tugs her inexorably away from where Regina and Dorothy are standing.
"Snow -" Regina begins to reach for Snow, terrified of what may happen to her, when Dorothy's hand stops her.
"Don't," the brunette says, her face showing no signs of anxiety as they watch Snow make her way through the threshold. Regina falters a step, panic bubbling up through her chest with every step Snow takes. When the gates then begin to close, the same mysterious magic at work that pried them open, she tries to wrench free of the strong fingers clamped around her forearm. She could not have predicted how viscerally she would react to Snow being in real danger. "She is perfectly safe," Dorothy adds, tone firm as her unrelenting grip. "The Grove is merely calling to her, that which is pure to that which is pure."
A great clang rings out through the vicinity. Snow kicks up off the ground from the force of the enormous gates drawing shut, and the gust of frigid air produced slams into Regina's already-numbing face, biting into the skin of her cheeks and nose.
Turning to Dorothy, she begins to demand that something be done only to halt at Dorothy's gentle expression.
"She won't harm Snow. I promise," the strong but kind warrior reassures her. "They are kindred spirits, just as she is with Ozma. All who are pure of heart are her brothers and sisters."
Regina is sure her bewilderment is easy to decipher. "You speak as if it is alive."
"She is," Dorothy replies. "When Ozma created the Grove, she infused it with a tiny portion of her soul that it might live as she shall – forever. That it actually came alive was, according to her, a pleasant surprise. She often comes here to commune with the spirit of the Grove, for they are essentially of the same essence. That is why it must be guarded at all times. Should the Grove ever be destroyed, Ozma will diminish and become mortal."
This is news to Regina, which is irritating considering Ozma had the opportunity to fill both Snow and herself in on these facts while they were back at the cabin. Her anger flares up, and she gives Dorothy a minute snarl. "Why didn't she say anything when she had the chance?"
Dorothy wets her lips, an apologetic look on her face. "Ozma understands that mortals fear what they cannot comprehend. Had Snow known what awaited her beyond the gates, she might not have been able to overcome her fear to touch the seal. And had she shown fear when the spirit reached out, the spirit may have sensed that fear and withdrawn herself from Snow. Our mission would then have failed, for without the permission of the spirit residing within the Grove, none may take of what she grows."
While Dorothy's explanation makes sense, there is something bothering Regina beyond Ozma's secrecy, something regarding Zelena that flies in the face of what was just revealed. "If what you say is true, how did Zelena manage to get inside and obtain a leaf?"
"If you'll remember, I told you that she forced Glinda, a witch of pure heart, to open the seal," Dorothy replies evenly. Regina nods. "Well, the spirit of the Grove is alive, and that means she is intelligent. She knew what Zelena would do to Glinda should she fail to retrieve a leaf. She gave her leaf willingly to save an innocent life."
"Which she ought not to have done. Glinda always was a fool over me. Although who can blame her? Just look at me. I'm simply fabulous!"
The accented voice that sounds out from behind them is one Regina could recognize anywhere. It sends a white hot jolt of lightning down her spine that doesn't stop until it is curling her toes. Zelena has arrived early.
The staggering shock of the arrival momentarily paralyzes Regina. How is it possible that she found us? Did that snake, Darion, betray us as I feared he might? Panic inundates her brain, choking any response for a several heartbeats. But then as suddenly as it came on, the immobilizing grip on her body releases.
Immediately following, a rush of memory assails Regina as that snooty tone hangs heavy in the air and echoes down the length of her spine. Her eyes flutter closed and her stomach cramps viciously as if caught in the jaws of a vice. Robin's face floats through the darkness of her shrouded vision, twisted grotesquely as he attempted to warn her and Red of the impending danger only to have his words strangled by the remorseless grip upon his extricated heart. This was a man whose honor was as unassailable as his compassion; a father and husband and comrade who left so many grieving loved ones behind. Robin deserved to live a long, happy life full of love and laughter. Instead he fell victim to a vendetta that had less logic driving it than that which fueled Regina's own ridiculous grudge against Snow White.
Misthaven's poor and disenfranchised have lost one of their greatest champions. And Regina has lost one of her dearest friends. There will be no more moonlit conversations about how lucky they are that Regina rejected Tinker Bell's bumbling attempt at fixing the depressing mess that was her life and walked away from the tavern that day so long ago. Nor will there be sage advice doled out when she's had a quarrel with Red and stormed away for space before she said something she couldn't take back. The days are now over when they would commiserate over a glass of wine for the simple purpose of reminiscing about the good times they have shared at joint family dinners – that sometimes even included the Merry Men. Robin is dead, and for no other reason than she loved him. The immense tragedy behind that truth is almost maddening.
As Robin's agonized visage fades, no relief is to be found, for it is immediately replaced by another atrocious sight. In her mind's eye Regina sees the ruins of Tamerlon emerge from the inky blackness, columns of gray smoke swirling into the gloomy overcast sky, the acrid smell of burnt wood, scorched metal, and broiled flesh coalescing into a stench so pungent her stomach floods with bile. Scores of corpses all charred beyond recognition flit across her mind, a macabre dance of the anguished dead that seems never ending. Many are frozen in unnatural positions having been killed in a matter of seconds by the witch prior to ignition, their limbs twisted at preposterous angles, heads laid disgustingly against shoulders due to their spines having been severed by malefic magic wielded by an absurdly powerful maniac. Across the courtyard the pattern repeats over and over, so much death that her brain can hardly comprehend it all. She sees the inside of the chapel next, the horrific scene of innocents futilely piled into the corner for protection, a seething black mass of crisp flesh all that remains of the adults who died in the most ghastly way imaginable yet still curled inward toward the children huddled at the center who in spite of the efforts of their guardians have been reduced to so much human-shaped charcoal. The scale of human suffering in that place is beyond description.
And then just when Regina thinks it might finally be over, she is besieged by the most dreadful vision of all. In a flash of white light, she is back in her bedchambers again, stumbling drunkenly toward the bathroom, the door standing open as if in anticipation of her arrival. She enters, legs barely working, bare feet shuffling across the cold stone floor, only to stop cold. In shock, she can only stare as if stricken dumb and mute, her limbs unresponsive, her lungs paralyzed, her heart stuttering erratically in her chest. Red is there, just out of reach, sprawled in the floor holding a green apple with a mouth-shaped hunk bitten out of it. Regina feels the panic inundate her senses all over again, the sheer unadulterated terror seizing her every muscle fiber. Only this time it is worse because she has the knowledge of retrospect, the awareness that Red has been cursed, to fuel the fear and despair clawing at her skin and brutally excoriating the inside of her chest. With breathtaking speed the pain becomes unbearable. Sadly for Regina, it is only just beginning.
In the blink of an eye she is torn from that scene and deposited in another, the night she regained consciousness after her brief tussle with Zelena, the night she first sat by Red's sick bed and wept until her tears ran out. In rapid succession, she revisits every single instance of her bedside vigils, has to watch Red sweat with fever and shiver with cold, hear her whimper pitifully due to an inescapable pain she is trapped in as a direct consequence of Regina having been born. As she alternated keeping vigil in the chair she moved up to the bed or upon the bed itself at Red's hip, the guilt of responsibility over her wife's suffering warred incessantly with hatred and rage directed toward her half-sister. Sometimes the emotional turmoil became so unbearable she had to withdraw to the tiny washroom attached to the guest quarters where she could vent her frustration through desperate screams she muffled with an abducted pillow. Other times she sat silently, occasionally with the somewhat welcome company of her father, Iris, Mulan, or Marian; but always there was the condemnation she heaped upon herself for the unspeakable agony so cruelly visited upon the only person she loves more than herself. Watching Red languish in a torment from which there is no relief or deliverance was the worst torture she has ever been made to endure, and that accounts for her atrocious childhood and the early years of her marriage to Leopold before her heart and body had grown callous to the abuse she daily suffered.
In all of this, only one thought keeps Regina from losing her grip on sanity: it is finally time. The time has come for a reckoning. A time for revenge. A time for justice. A time for the accursed witch who has caused so much anguish to finally get her comeuppance. A time for Regina to make good on her promise to Red. Death has arrived at the Sacred Grove of Ozma and she welcomes it with all the childish glee of crisp Yuletide morning.
Regina's lips twist into an anticipatory sneer, and then she turns to face her destiny head on.