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 38 – The Grand Alliance
Once the door is closed behind Dorothy, Red slumps forward, hands on her knees. "Sorry about that," she says. "I don't know why that couldn't wait. I might be panicking just a little bit..." Between slow, measured breaths, she begins repetitively encouraging herself with a mantra consisting of only four words: "I can do this."
"Yes, you can," Regina agrees, rubbing Red's back gently as the other hand smooths up and down her arm. "You are strong and capable, and remember you won't be alone. I'll be right next to you every step of the way."
Red nods vigorously, and after another couple of deep breaths, straightens up and squares her shoulders. Posture confident, her face is anything but as she stares at Regina with palpable trepidation.
"Promise you won't leave me? Even if mess up?"
Regina smiles tenderly and then strokes Red's cheek affectionately. "I promise," she reiterates. "There's nothing you could do to make me abandon you."
Looking like she wants to say something, Red bites her lip to hold it in as her gaze turn to the door. She is clearly still conflicted about something.
"What is it?" Regina nudges, both with her words and her shoulder, bumping lightly against her wife's.
"It's silly," Red sighs, neck flushing with embarrassment. "I'm just being a big ole wimp."
Regina rolls her eyes, exasperated, then forcibly turns Red to look at her. Expression stern, she says, "Let me be the judge of that. Tell me what's bothering you."
"I..." Red begins, and then trails off for a moment. When she speaks again, her voice is small, rather like a little girl who is lost and just trying to find her way back home to her parents. "I know it's not proper considering where are and what we're doing, but...will you hold my hand?"
"Oh, thank heavens. You had me scared for a moment," Regina breathes, relieved that Red's troubles are so mundane relative to the possible and far more disastrous scenarios. Such as her coming down with cold feet at the last second and ducking out of a monumentally important event. That would have been a calamitous beginning to an alliance which may be recorded in the history books as one of the most forward thinking ever forged. If it means escaping that humiliating outcome, to hell with decorum. Holding Red's hand during the ceremony is something she is more than happy to do.
"I'm glad you're relieved at my distress," Red counters, looking a bit hurt that Regina isn't taking this seriously. "Can't you see that this is hard for me? I wasn't raised to cope with stuff like this. I'm learning it all on the fly: how to behave like a royal, how to give speeches, name things like roads and bridges, balance budgets, review financial and diplomatic and after-action reports, and review performance evaluations for important people who used to hold the power of life and death over me! Now on top of all that responsibility I have to walk out there with thousands of eyes, all from a completely different world, staring at me like I have the same power to make or break their lives. I'm just overwhelmed by it all, so I'm having a little freak out here, okay?!"
By the end of that impressive rant, Red is wild-eyed and panting, so Regina grasps her shoulders tightly and forces her to pay attention. "Calm down, sweetheart, before you give yourself a stroke." She speaks in smooth, modulated tones that generally help to ease Red's anxieties at public functions. "I am well aware how serious this is for you. I am not making light of how you're feeling right now. I know I needle you in private to bait a reaction, but have I ever done so in a critical moment like this?" Red shakes her head in the negative and bats her eyelids to hold back tears. "Okay, then. Listen to me. You are going to be fine. You will do fine. You always do. You have yet to make me even once regret placing so much faith in you, and you won't start now. So chin up, back straight, and remember who you are. You are Queen Red of Misthaven, co-sovereign of one of the most powerful realms in any world. You can do this, dammit!"
Breathing deeply, Red closes her eyes and steadies herself once again. A few seconds pass as she stands there, breathing, eyes closed, face twisted in concentration. But then her features relax, and she opens her eyes. When she turns to face Regina, a wave of acceptance precedes another of serenity in those brilliant green eyes.
"You're right," Red says with renewed confidence Regina can tell is mostly unfeigned. "I'm good. I've got this."
Regina smiles encouragingly. "Yes, you do. But just so you know," she adds, "I will be glad to hold your hand if that's what you need from me. What everyone else thinks is irrelevant. I stopped listening to the opinions of others a long time ago where you're concerned. Your happiness and comfort are my top priority, no matter where we are or what we're doing. Alright?"
A look of utter gratitude overtakes Red, and as the sound of the herald's amplified voice booms out of the huge throne room of Oz, she offers Regina her hand. One of her signature smiles spreads across her lips. "Ready if you are."
Regina takes the proffered hand, squares herself to the door, and then smirks proudly. "Haven't you learned yet? I was born ready." And then she thrusts her hands out toward the doors, summoning her magic to throw them open. They fly apart with a pronounced groan. The packed masses of citizens are suddenly revealed to them, all gawking at the foreigners making so theatrical an entrance. Regina gives her wife's hand a squeeze that is immediately returned.
Together, they stride into the room, hand-in-hand and steps perfectly in sync, to the din of a rousing applause and cheering the like of which Regina has never heard. So loud is the exuberance that the firm foundations beneath her feet vibrate minutely – not enough to threaten the stability of the building but enough to feel transference through her high heels that runs up into the soles of her feet and her calves. Much of the ardor is directed at her, and she can't help but notice when one particularly boisterous voice rises above the rest with a shout of, "The Savior of Oz!" Many of the citizens join in the ensuing chant, "Savior! Savior! Savior!"
Regina flushes under the adulation. She'd known her sister was terrorizing Oz, but she'd never imagined that removing her from power would purchase such acclaim. She certainly doesn't deserve it when her heroics amounted to an incredibly risky gambit that could just as easily have got her killed as to produce the desired outcome. Perhaps, she considers, Ozma and Dorothy have spread a few tall tales around the kingdom concerning her efforts. Whatever the case, the people of Oz clearly feel indebted to her, and there is a large part of her that revels in their worship. It feeds the egotistical beast within, the one that would just as soon pick up right where her sister left off rather than play the part of the humble victor.
But then she feels Red's hand tighten in hers and glances over to see her wife smiling beautifully, rows of highly polished teeth glinting in the artificial light of the room. Only her iron grip on Regina's hand is any indication that she is feeling overwhelmed by the response to them. Even her eyes are carefully controlled, giving off a gaiety that Regina can tell is endearing her to the people of Oz – in addition to their open approval of her choice in wardrobe, of course. What people are not lavishing their esteem upon Regina are staring at Red with poorly concealed desire, as bewitched by her beauty and grace as Regina has been these past seven years. And though quite a few eyes contain an uncomfortable degree of outright lust, she should not begrudge their understandable reaction. After all, she had once rather pathetically succumbed to Red's charms, and at that time she had been renowned for having a heart so cold not even a hand dipped in liquid iron could thaw it. What chance to resist, then, could the plain masses whose passions so ruled them have to resist such a beguiling creature? The answer is none, though that does little to ease the spike of petty jealously that has her smothering a vicious sneer.
Red's underlying anxiety and her own possessiveness aside, Regina has never been more proud of her wife than she is in that moment. By overcoming her fear for the sake of not only one world but two, both of which will benefit so greatly from the alliance that will soon be formed between them, she has once again proven herself worthy of her crown.
Since ascending to the throne, Red has made significant strides in her ability to handle the public appearances that a monarch is obligated to make. Her current composure is a far cry from her debut at court. The entire afternoon, she sat ramrod straight, endlessly worrying her hands together in her lap or picking at the fabric of her dress, eyes flitting fretfully over the modest crowd of nobles and their families, both minor and major alike, gathered to observe the deliberations. A majority of them attended solely to gawk at their gorgeous new Queen, which made Red even more of a nervous wreck. Regina can't remember her having spoken a single word except to stutter out thankful replies for those who began their presentations with shameless flattery aimed at currying her favor.
Two months later, as Regina was otherwise occupied with urgent business in the palace, Red had to replace her in giving a speech to the council of Stahldorf, the township sprawled out at the base of the mountain the Dark Palace was erected upon. That Regina had already written it did not ameliorate the disaster that unfolded. According to a reliable witness, namely her father who volunteered to accompany his daughter-in-law, Red only made it a quarter of the way through before nervous nausea forced her to excuse herself. She returned half an hour later to finish, pale and hesitant and meek – and skittish – as a mouse. Later on when Regina retired to their chambers, the instant she stepped through the door, Red burst into tears. Over and over she apologized for her failure and insisted a mistake had been made in trusting her to be a fit partner with whom to rule.
"You couldn't be more wrong," Regina had told her distraught wife. "I spoke to Daddy about what happened. I'm not even a tiny bit upset. I'm actually very proud of you."
"Why?" Red had asked, even more miserable at hearing that. "What's there to be proud of? It was horrible! I made a fool of myself, of the kingdom, and worst of all, of you!"
All Regina could think to do was gather her trembling bride in her arms and tell the truth with as much conviction as she could muster. So that's what she did.
"You made a fool of no one," she had said, and can still remember how tense Red was in her arms. And how as she spoke, those coiled up muscles began to relax and the sniffles slowed down. "Had you fled and not come back, then yes, I would say that assessment is correct. But you didn't do that, did you? No, rather than tuck tail and run like most would have, you scrounged up every last ounce of your courage and finished the job. I never expected for you to turn into an impassioned orator overnight. It took me years to refine my approach. All I ask is for you to conduct yourself exactly as you did. Keep doing your job to the best of your ability and everything else will come with time."
And she was right. Today is the proof in the pudding, so to speak. In the most stressful environment to which Red has ever been subjected, she is performing her role with an astounding exercise of self-control that she could not hoped to have summoned five years ago. That inexperienced young lady could not have faked her way through a simple luncheon with foreign diplomats, not to mention such a high stakes event. She truly has become a Queen in every sense of the word. No longer is she a naive former peasant who stumbled into power accidentally, but she has become a ruler in her own right – a person of stature and bearing and whose mere presence is enough to inspire people to bend the knee.
When in a matter of seconds Red takes her place amidst four other monarchs, it will not be as anything less than a true equal. And that is exactly what Regina has always wanted for her, because from her perspective it has always been true. Red is her equal in every sense of the word; she wouldn't have married her otherwise. She's just glad that everyone else is the entire world is going to have to publicly recognize that now.
"So much for all of that poppycock about her being a plain, boring country girl," Regina thinks to herself, pride in Red illuminating her from within as they stride in tandem down the carpeted golden pathway.
Returning her focus forward, she looks out over the dais, seeing the grand throne room shimmering with liveliness. The golden surfaces of the dual thrones are polished to an extraordinary finish, and their cushions are plush and of a deep, vibrant, and textured green that seems more like grass than cloth. The flames lit within the candelabra dance upon their wicks, twisting and flickering and swirling yet magically not consuming what should be the source of their energy. On the far left hand side of the dais, a large object is covered in a green velvet shroud that arrests her attention. This has to be what Dorothy had been cryptically referring to shortly before their entrance.
For a moment, Regina wonders at what it could be. No idea immediately springs to mind, neither is one allowed to as her eyes catch sight of Snow and Charming. The handsome royal couple are standing before the dais, just to the left of center. Shoulders just barely touching with their hands folded neatly in front of them, they present a perfect picture of encyclopedic True Love, just as they always have.
Charming looks quite dashing in his kingly attire. He is arrayed in a pair of royal blue pants with golden stripes down the sides along with a buttoned up white suit jacket trimmed in reds and golds and blues adorned by golden epaulettes and a high collar bearing ornate golden piping. At his waist is a black leather belt, from which hangs his famous sword. Snow, as is her custom, is wrapped in a pure white samite dress bearing threaded depictions of swans and doves upon the bodice. A flowing train of lace trails behind her. Atop her head, her long raven locks are arranged into a bun nearly identical to Regina's, set apart only by the stark red ribbon tied in it as if a velvet crown.
Both are keenly watching Regina and Red as they make their way up the path. And while Charming is gently smiling in their direction, particularly at Red, Snow is beaming with such luminosity that Regina's eyes ache from the brightness. When Red catches sight of her closest friend and old traveling companion, her own smile flashes so brilliantly that it sparks in her eyes, causing them to shine with timeless affection. Regina's throat tightens at the acknowledgement of a bond she will never understand but nonetheless has learned to appreciate. Had there not been such kinship between them, they would all be in very different places and moods today.
Feeling a swell of gratitude all of the sudden, she gives Snow an approving nod and a slight upturn of her lips, which seems to only increase the diminutive woman's buoyant joy. She is still getting used to categorizing Snow White as an ally instead of a mortal enemy. And while she is far from ready to call them friends, the idea is not so repugnant as it would have been prior to Red's sickness.
Meanwhile, to the left of the Charmings at the center of the room stand Ozma and Dorothy. The latter is holding an impeccably groomed Toto in her arms. The dog yips happily when he spots Red. Regina smothers down a chuckle. She'll have to tease Red later about canines and their innate ability to recognize one of their own.
When Regina actually drinks in the sight of her friends, her breath leaves her in a whoosh. It is a wonder that her legs continue to propel her forward alongside an equally awed Red. As it is, she skirts by on mechanical movements borne of years of practice incumbent upon a monarch.
Ozma is, as always, resplendent in beauty and majesty, arrayed in an airy white dress trimmed in and infused with emerald green. A pair of glittering jade slippers adorn her feet, and she holds in her hand a scepter topped with her sigil. Her golden hair is parted down the middle, flowing free across her shoulders and down her back, and a crown is nestled upon curls featuring her sigil which is large enough to cover nearly half of her forehead. Woven into the locks at her temples are lush poppies of the same species represented by the jewelry Red decided to wear. More than any affect the fairy's otherworldly beauty can produce, warmth suffuses her chest that she knows springs from a surprisingly deep well of fondness in her heart for her friend. It overflows, causing such happiness to wash over her that she feels as if she is no longer walking but floating toward the dais.
Strangely enough, it is Dorothy whose appearance causes the most visceral reaction, for she seems drastically altered from mere moments ago. The transformation is stunning to behold. At Ozma's side, hands joined much the same as Regina's are with Red, Dorothy is bathed in the Fairy Queen's intrinsic luminescence. Under it, she seems less a human woman of humble origins than a goddess of mythical stature. Her brown hair, normally styled as to be unremarkable, seems fuller and silkier, and her skin – bronzed from long days toiling under the sun – glistens with light reflected from her incandescent partner. With a posture so regal that she appears a born and bred member of royal lineage, Dorothy's expressive blue eyes reflect a fathomless depth of wisdom born of a hard life overcoming impossible odds. Foremost, however, there is a declaration in those azure depths that Regina latches onto. It is a silent promise of fidelity and friendship and love that she believes, against all rational objection, can and will never be broken.
Transfixed by the beauty of the couple before them, Regina is barely aware of making her way with Red to stand at their designated spot. It is only once they are in place that Regina snaps out of her stupor. Blushing lightly, she joins Red in a synchronized curtsy to their hosts, which is met by the dignified response of two bowed heads.
A short burst of cheers erupts from the crowd that Ozma allows to continue for some seconds. The instant she holds her hand up, silence falls over the room.
"Welcome Queen Regina and Queen Red of Misthaven, our esteemed guests and allies!" the Fairy Queen calls out, voice amplified by some trick of magic that Regina very much wants to learn. Despite the prolific volume, Ozma's voice does not hurt her ears and sounds as smooth and comfortable as if they were chatting amiably by a crackling hearth.
As expected of them, both Regina and Red raise their free hands toward the crowd, a greeting that is met with a resounding response. Regina looks out over the audience as they cheer, eyes sweeping across faces as diverse as those that occupy her own realm. There are those whose appearances are not at all noteworthy, such the humans occupying the center of the room who, like all others, come in various sizes and shapes. Regina does note that the humans of Oz are shorter in general than those of the Enchanted Forest. David, Dorothy, and Red in particular must seem to them giants in comparison. Snow, on the other hand, would fit right in. The stray thought brings an upward tilt to one corner of her lips.
There are those races, whoever, whose appearances are a bit more startling. The Munchkins, who occupy the eastern section of the throne room, are one such example. Another is the contingent of the friendly and affable Wheelers Dorothy had insisted to exist. Rather than their corrupted cousins, they dress in clownish colors and wear a perpetually happy expression that is almost disturbing. Meanwhile, the male Munchkins have adopted flashy hairdos bordering on gaudy and are dressed in their famous fare of checkered tunics artfully serrated at the hems along with complementary breeches and candy striped hosen; the females appear more conservative in nature with their colorful linen dresses and bonnets, though a few individuals of spirit sport conical hats – some of which even flare in reverse. They strike Regina as a rather whimsical race, but she does not know enough about them to make such a judgment, nor can she do so regarding the Wheelers, though she admits to having concerns about them, being that she is a woman of long memory who is still haunted on occasion in her dreams by maniacal cackles and screeching wheels.
She straightens her back and takes a deep breath against the memory of the tense flight from the Emerald City one year ago and turns her eyes to the west. There in the front row she gazes upon four notable individuals. First among them is a lion who is baring his enormous teeth in a smile that completely disarms them and whose mane is adorned with a purple bow. On one side of the lion is a scarecrow capped with a silver crown inset with emeralds and beside him a squatty robot of bronze so highly polished that the light in the room is reflected from him at all angles. To the other side of the lion is a man made wholly of tins, an absurd creature even among his companions, but there is an inherent warmth to him that makes Regina smile despite his ridiculous appearance. These she recognizes as Dorothy's famous adventuring companions: the Scarecrow, Tin Woodman, Coward Lion, and Tik-tok. Behind them are rows of various races that Regina cannot place.
Ozma permits the cheering for perhaps ten seconds before stilling it with another gesture of her hand, commanding Regina's attention once more.
"Today, we are gathered for a most monumental event, one that will be remembered in history as the first of its kind. In this room, two unique worlds are represented along with three equally distinct nations. And yet, different though we are, we have been bonded by affections forged in the flames of a tempestuous trial, the origins of which were one source: the Wicked Witch of the West."
A chorus of jeers and hisses issue out from the crowd, and Regina gives a subtle wince at the hatred she feels for her sister. Knowing it is justified hatred does not quell her own feelings of guilt, as she shares more than blood with Zelena. Propensity for evil is common between them as well, and she had once reached depths of vileness that rivaled if not outright surpassed that of her deceased half-sibling. There was far more blood staining her hands, exemplified by the thousands of lives she'd snuffed out personally in warfare and those she'd murdered in cold blood merely because she was in the mood to kill someone. Being twice in close proximity to Zelena afforded Regina a rare opportunity to look into her sister's crazed eyes, and in them she'd gazed at a twisted reflection of her own visage not so long ago. It sickened her to think that she was once so maddened by grief and rage that she descended wholesale into savagery and violence the like of which she imagined would far outlive her good deeds.
And yet, for whatever reason, Regina had been spared from judgment whereas Zelena had paid the ultimate price for her crimes. Reconciling herself with that reality was going to be a long time in the making, but what she had said to Red earlier before entering the throne room stands true for her as well: she is not alone. And that is made abundantly clear when Red uses the tip of her index finger to slowly spell out I love you onto the back of Regina's hand. Biting back tears, she gives her wife's hand a squeeze as Ozma calls out for silence.
"I understand how you all feel," she says. "I, too, was her victim. Dorothy, your beloved champion, also suffered due to her unforgivable actions." The crowd grows unsettled at that, murmuring their anger and bitterness at Dorothy being so mistreated. It is the first time Regina has seen just how revered Dorothy is in Oz, and she is surprised to see Dorothy is held in nearly as high a regard as Ozma. "But we in Oz were not alone in our torment," Ozma then states, voice raising above the displeasure of her citizens, "for as has been published throughout the realm to be common knowledge, the Witch traveled to another world and wreaked havoc on the Kingdoms of Misthaven and Drakkenhall. She put Queen Red, who is graciously present with us today, under a sleeping curse that would have killed her had Queen Regina not acted with haste in traveling to Oz to obtain a cure. It was the heroics of Queen Regina and Queen Snow of the White Kingdom that freed our world from the brutal reign of the Wicked Witch, and at the gates of my Sacred Grove, no less."
Yet another cheer goes up, and rather than growing irritated by the constant interruptions, Ozma smiles indulgently and allows them to express their gratitude to both Regina and Snow, the latter of which blushes and gives a curtsey while Regina simply bows her head reverently. The cheering goes on for nearly a minute with Ozma's approval, as even Dorothy, Red, and Charming join in with the crowd giving a rousing applause. The praise is, Regina has to admit, quite stimulating to her ego.
When Ozma raises her hand once more, the din dies down, and she resumes her speech.
"What is not generally known, however," Ozma states, smiling warmly, "is that during this time, Dorothy and I made the personal acquaintance of these heroic monarchs. In the short time we were together during those trying days, we found in them friends of such profound degree that we were both loathe to be parted from them. It was I who suggested we form an alliance between our realms, and though logistics dictate such an alliance to be impractical, I have devised a unique solution."
Ozma then gestures toward the shrouded object to the left of the dais, and snaps her fingers. It falls away to reveal a grand archway, standing under its own weight. Made of jade infused marble, it bears the crests of each nation represented upon it, just as they are in order before the dais, the White Kingdom to the left, Misthaven to the right, and Oz in the center. Regina gasps as understanding dawns. She knows what this structure is without needing to be told, and she is utterly amazed at Ozma's audacious ambition.
"How can it be possible?" she asks herself as Ozma turns back to the crowd.
"As thanks to my friends," the Fairy Queen continues, "and as a symbol of trust between our nations, I have commissioned this permanent portal between our worlds to be constructed. By it, any person gifted with a key bearing my sigil shall be able to pass through it to Oz, and from Oz to Misthaven once a similar structure is erected in that realm. All that remains is for it be activated. But before that can happen, we must seal our alliance in perpetuity."
Ozma takes a step forward and waves her scepter at the floor, causing a swirl of green smoke to emit from it where it gathers at her feet. From the smoke emerges a pedestal which rises until it stands three feet tall. Atop it is a cushion upon which sits a plain glass orb. Nothing about it seems out of the ordinary, so Regina ponders its purpose as she watches Ozma circle around the pedestal so that her back is to the crowd and she is facing Dorothy and her future allies.
"Approach, my friends, if you please," she says, with pointed looks and inviting waves of her hand to Snow and Charming and then Regina and Red. Both couples immediately join her, gathering around the pedestal on each side of Ozma. After carefully placing Toto down, Dorothy takes the spot opposite Ozma, and once everyone is in place, the Queen of Oz smiles brilliantly, causing her entire visage to take on an even brighter glow than that which persistently surrounds her like an aura of golden sunshine. She gestures toward the glass orb. "Each of you simply place one of your hands upon the orb," she instructs, and then adds, "By so doing so the Kingdoms represented signify their agreement to the terms of this alliance."
A hushed stillness ensues as the gravity of the situation at last comes to bear. Regina lifts her eyes to Snow, who returns her appraising gaze it with a gentle smile. Before she can even twitch a muscle, however, Red reaches out to place her hand on the orb, much to everyone's surprise. Out of all the players in the room, she and Charming have the least amount of personal connection to Ozma, Dorothy, and Oz, and yet it is Red who is first to give her oath by way of obedience to Ozma's instruction. With the ice broken, Snow quickly follows suit, and then Charming alongside his wife. Lastly, sparing a glance to Ozma whose eyes soften fondly, Regina places her hand upon the orb. Only Dorothy has not done so, but this is according to plan. She gives a nod to Ozma, who begins to speak again, laying out the terms of the alliance.
"In this Grand Triune Alliance," her voice booms out, "all certified members hereby swear that we shall not forsake one another in time of crisis, and to that end, when one of our number is in need, the others will respond with all due effort to provide what aid is necessary, be it for defense, or economic stability, or sustenance, or even counsel in matters of utmost import. We swear also that our nations shall, from henceforth so long as this alliance shall persist, share enemies alike, and at the consent of all founding members, may vote to add deserving member nations to our arrangement. We swear also that so much as it is possible, our borders will remain open to our allies to promote the welfare of all citizens encompassed by this accord, and that our primary objective shall always be in the striving for lasting peace and prosperity between our members. And finally, we swear that the bonds of friendship between us, the architects of this Grand Alliance, shall never be forgotten so long as we live, that we are no longer friends only but family, and that the memory of our bond shall be passed on to future generations who shall carry on our work to make better worlds to live in and better lives for our peoples. To these terms do we all solemnly swear here in the witness of thousands. Let it be recorded and sealed for posterity."
With her last word, Ozma touches the orb, which flares to life as green sparks of energy run like bolts of lightning within it. She looks at Dorothy, eyes alight with her magic, and says, "Proceed, my darling."
Regina watches closely as Dorothy comes to her full height, shoulders broad and squared, jaw set in a proud line. Her blue eyes are piercing as she fixes her gaze on Snow and Charming first.
"Queen Snow and King David of the White Kingdom," she begins, her own voice impressively commanding in timbre so that Regina is given her first glimpse of Dorothy the leader of men and women alike, the Champion of Oz, and the woman beloved of a Fairy Queen of peerless power. "In the presence of this great congregation of witnesses, do you give your oath to abide by the terms of this alliance and from them to never deviate so long as you both shall live?"
In perfect unison, Snow and Charming give their answer: "We do." At their words, a series of white and golden bolts of electricity join with Ozma's, creating a dancing web of arcing energy that works around the orb in random patterns, some circular, some zig-zagged, some linear. It is an incredible display of magic that again has Regina in awe. She wonders whether she will grow tired of Ozma's tricks and unique abilities. Likely not, naturally inquisitive as she is.
Dorothy then turns to Regina and Red, and though her demeanor is composed and her posture screams authority, her eyes swim with affection. "And do you," she says, "Queens Regina and Red of Misthaven, in the presence of these many witnesses, give your oath to abide by the terms of this alliance and from them to never deviate so long as you both shall live?"
Regina and Red turn to one another, love shining through for all to see as they pronounce their vow in concert, much as Snow and Charming had. "We do." When they speak their oath, crimson and lavender electricity joins the dizzying array of energies floating about the orb.
Finally, Dorothy fixes her gaze on Ozma, and as their eyes meet over the short distance, both women smile in spite of the somber occasion. Their love is so strong that it affects everyone around them. Snow does not bother to swipe away the tear that falls down her full cheek, and Regina swears she even sees moisture in Charming's blue eyes. Regina does not look at Red, but she doesn't have to in order to be presented with evidence of her wife's tender heart being stirred; it is all there in the way she squeezes Regina's hand, having never once allowed it to slip from her grasp.
"Ozma, Queen of Oz," Dorothy then says, and it is not difficult to pick up on the emotion in her voice, "In the presence of these many witnesses, do you give your oath to abide by the terms of this alliance and from them to never deviate so long as you shall live?"
Ozma beams at her, happiness evident in her every feature, and says, "I do." And with her words, the jade-tinted energy unique to her amplifies in intensity.
Dorothy, abundantly full of her own joy, grins right back. "Then I, Dorothy Gale," she states, "as Champion of Oz, on this the fourth day of May in the twentieth year of Queen Ozma's reign, do hereby ratify this Grand Triune Alliance. May it prosper in terms of peace, prosperity, and equality. May the bonds of friendship and love strengthen with each passing day. And may it last so long as the stars above shine." And with that, she adds her hand to the orb, causing her own tendril of sky blue energy to join the others.
Inside the orb, the magic swirls and jumps and continues arcing in ever greater strings of multicolored light, and each person removes their hand as it ramps up continually. After ten seconds of exponentially escalating energies, an explosion of light fills the entire room of such brightness that Regina has to turn away with her eyes shut. Seconds later, the crowd around them all gasp in wonder.
When Regina opens her lids, she has to allow a moment for her overstimulated eyes to readjust to the room before focusing her attention on the orb. Whereas once it was translucent, it has now solidified into a tri-colored sphere, one segment emerald green, one purest white, and the other a brilliant purple. They are the official colors of the three kingdoms involved in the alliance, and upon their respective regions are emblazoned their respective crests that pulse with energy color-appropriate to the realm to which they belong. It is magnificent, and beautiful, and alive. Regina knows it instinctively, can feel her magic responding to it.
Ozma had earlier informed her via her letter that an infinitesimal portion of each of their souls would be used to fuse the symbol of their alliance, a magical sphere that will extinguish should any member betray an agreed upon ordinance. The only reason Regina had not balked at the process was her trust in Ozma, which is as close to immutable as is possible for her. Now that she can see the fruits of that process, she finds herself with no remorse over giving Ozma that trust.
Regina has given her oath with a resolute heart, and along with Ozma, she knows that Snow, if not Charming as well, has done the same. They are bound together now in ways they could never have anticipated that day so long ago when she's rescued a princess on a runaway horse, having gone from fast friends to mortal enemies and are working back toward something positive and meaningful once again. That progress is encapsulated in the orb before her as visual proof that she is healing from that ancient wound that so dominated her life and that drove her into becoming one of the most evil villains to ever inhabit the Enchanted Forest. It is a miracle for which Regina hadn't asked, but is nonetheless grateful.
"With the establishment of this Grand Triune Alliance," Ozma then calls out, "I declare this day to be hallowed, an occasion for feasting and celebration in each of our realms, a day for unions and reunions to be remembered and revisited and renewed. Let Alliance Day be commemorated henceforth from this day and forevermore!"
An immense shout goes up from the crowd, so grand and boisterous that the room shakes. Regina can feel the peoples joy, and it springs from within her heart a fountain that she cannot restrain. She turns to Red, who is overcome with happiness, her smile so radiant that it makes everything else seem dim in comparison. Regina lifts her wife's hand to her lips and places a delicate kiss upon her knuckles, causing Red's breath to stutter and a pretty blush to rise up her neck into her cheeks.
It is so easy to get lost in Red's eyes that she doesn't even recognize someone calling her name until her wife gently tugs at her hand. Regina cocks her head to the side in confusion, which makes Red chuckle and indicate her head toward the dais, where Ozma is standing at the portal with Snow and Charming.
"Won't you join us, Your Majesties?" Ozma asks, being cheeky on purpose. Her eyes dance with good humor.
Regina still flushes with embarrassment. Nonetheless, she leads Red by the hand over to the left side, then up the three stairs and onto the dais to stand with the other charter members of their tremendously significant alliance.
They are joined by the Council of Directions, which has yet to appoint a replacement for the West. The scars the Wicked Witch wrought up on the Council have yet to scab over. Glinda appears especially grieved to be in Regina's presence, no doubt because of the unavoidable associations with her half-sister. Regina cannot begrudge the sorceress her feelings. Of all the native denizens of Oz, Glinda was the Zelena's primary victim.
Thanks to Ozma's discretion, few in Oz know what Regina does about the suffering the Northern witch was forced to endure. The information Dorothy revealed when she and Snow rescued her was only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Not only was Glinda manipulated into breaking into the Grove to steal the fruit that would ultimately wind up in Red's hand, thus precipitating all that came thereafter, but she was tortured whenever she disobeyed even a simple command. The worst indignity of them all was the twisting of the consensual sexual relationship she had enjoyed with Zelena beforehand into something abominable.
It is clear now to Regina how much Zelena resembled their mother at her worst. Listening to Dorothy recount only a glancing description of Glinda's horrific ordeal was enough to conjure up memories of Cora's return to Misthaven. As Dorothy spoke, she was assaulted by images of her mother ascending the stairs to the tower, and of her trailing behind like an obedient slave, unable to rebel for fear of what would happen to Red if she did. When she closed her eyes she could hear the grotesque threats leveled against a shackled Red, disturbingly detailed descriptions of how amusing and pleasurable it would be for her to auction off chances to defile her daughter's common whore. And she can feel the air crackling against the flying cord of the whip her mother wielded as a reminder that what belonged to Regina belonged to her now. Only now when she recalls those traumatic moments, she can no longer tell whether it is Cora or Zelena tormenting her. Their shared barbaric, depraved tendencies have so thoroughly blended together in her mind as to make separating them nigh on impossible.
Truly, she has much to thank her father for. His genetic contribution in her conception may well have been the only factor that kept her from becoming absolutely irredeemable. Against all odds, she had inherited a portion of his tenderness and fathomless capacity for love. Those attributes had lain dormant inside her since Daniel's grisly demise, waiting to be reanimated by the only soul capable of such a herculean feat. There is little doubt in her mind that if her father was someone else, there would have been nothing for Red to resurrect. Zelena was proof of concept. Her sister's sire had been as immoral and devoid of character as Cora; she never stood a chance.
A wave of gratitude for her father washes over Regina as she passes by Glinda. Never in a million years could she treat Red with such vile contempt as to usurp her self-determination. Red's independent streak is one of her best attributes, one they have in common, which is why Regina encourages her as much as possible to venture outside their very cozy love nest.
Zelena, on the other hand, hadn't thought twice about wrenching her lover's heart out to enslave her. Glinda was not permitted to be out of Zelena's sight without permission, and even then she was closely monitored via scrying. Furthermore, the blonde witch's heart was kept on Zelena's person at all times – mostly inside a pocket dimension but occasionally out in the open when there was need to posture her absolute ownership over Oz's second most powerful denizen.
The thought of violating Red that way is nauseating, and evokes shame that pierces her heart because she is not wholly innocent of such practices. When Graham failed to take Snow White's heart, she'd punished him by taking his and then forcing him into her service. The Huntsman's service extended into the bedroom, and that she only used him that way twice and never without some measure of a respect Glinda was not afforded does not assuage an ounce of her guilt. Nor did it soften the blow of Red's anger when she confessed to her abuse of Graham. She had only done so at his behest. He was right to insist the truth was going to come out eventually, and that it was better Red heard it from her instead of some random guard that she couldn't permanently silence because she was trying hard to be a better person. For whatever reason, Graham chose to forgive her and his encouragement for Red to do the same is probably responsible for the swift repair of what would prove to be the last major rift between them.
Glinda, however, is not Graham. And seeing the pain trapped behind those liquid blue eyes reminds Regina that however bad she used to be, she never stooped as low with anyone as her sister did with Glinda. Needing to do something, anything, to make up for the sins of her family, she offers a sympathetic smile that she is careful to keep free of pity. Graham always insisted treating him as if he were made of glass would only ensure he never healed.
Though she half-expects Glinda to ignore her entirely, she is somewhat relieved the witch is able to muster up a wan smile. The subdued response is more than she deserves. Hero of Oz she may be, but the egregious crimes visited upon Oz, and Glinda in particular, were indirectly her fault. Maybe there will come a day when Regina can forgive herself for inspiring her sister's hatred, but that day is not today.
Once situated to the right of Ozma and Dorothy, she briefly ducks her head in apology for missing her cue. "Forgive me, Your Grace," she offers, only to have Ozma tip her chin back up.
"No trespass has been committed, my dearest friend," she smiles. "I would have been glad to leave you and your beloved in your enviable cocoon had I not required your help to activate the portal."
Regina grows confused at the reasoning behind Ozma requiring her help for such a thing. Her knowledge of portals is limited to Jefferson's hat and magic beans. Neither of those were covered in her studies with Rumplestilskin, so she knows that portal magic is real, only she does not know how it works.
"I don't see how I can be of service," she replies. "I am adept at teleportation, but must admit to have woefully neglected portal magic during my studies."
"That is of no consequence," says Ozma. "I have the necessary knowledge, what I require is your rather impressive stores of power. More than I and the incomplete Council possess will be required to fuel this spell. Had there been a West, I would not need to ask this of you. Circumstances as they are have unfortunately forced my hand."
Regina looks surprised. "I have enough to make up the difference? I thought Zelena was far more inherently powerful than I am."
"Oh, my. Whoever told you that?" asks Ozma, perplexed.
"Someone who would know," Regina replies, being vague on purpose as to avoid having to name her teacher.
Speaking the name of the Dark One, even in Oz, is never wise. Especially seeing as they reached an agreement prior to her journey to this fantastical land. There is little she is willing to do that will even give off the slightest hint of breaching that contract. She meant it when she told Rumple she never wanted to see him again.
Ozma shakes her head vehemently. "That person, whoever they may be, was wrong. I've not met another magician besides your sister who equals you. The two of you were evenly matched in terms of raw potential, and if anything your defeat of her has proven you to be the superior."
"I didn't really defeat her with my magic in a conventional sense," Regina corrects, uncomfortable at being told she and her sister.
"Ah, but you were not aided by a necklace created by the Council of Directions which acts as a focus for magical energies," Ozma counters. "That you were able to last as long as you did against her is impressive enough. However, it is your ability to access both dark and light magic at once that puts you in rarified air, my friend."
"Well, I thank you for the compliment," Regina says, flushing yet again, much to Red's delight. She ignores her proudly preening wife in favor of aiding Ozma however she can. "What can I do to help?"
"It is simple," Ozma explains, "once I start channeling the spell, simply focus your power on the event horizon – that is, the liquid-like surface that will form within the arch. As you channel your own magic, think of your home, your castle back in your world, more specifically, the location at which you desire the portal in your world to be located, whether it be in your throne room as this one, or in another more secure location. Can you do that?"
Regina inclines her head confidently. "I can."
Ozma smiles. "Then let us begin." And with that, she points her scepter at the space between the arches. A beam of magic issues forth, and instead of passing beyond the empty space between the sides of the arch to penetrate the wall behind, it spreads out over the area, forming a surface that ripples in waves much like a liquid.
Regina allows herself a split second to marvel at what she is seeing, but after that, does as Ozma has instructed. She closes her eyes and taps into the place deep within her chest where her magic resides, and the second she touches it, she feels it release and flood into her system, gathering quickly into her hands. With a thrust of her arm forward, she levels her palm at the glistening green surface of the portal and commands her magic to pour into it. The very instant it leaves her hand, she empties her mind of all thought, focusing only on the courtyard below her chambers into which she'd portaled home with Snow from Jefferson's hat. It is the perfect location for the terminal on the Enchanted Forest side of the portal, for it is insulated from the outer citadel, well defended, and easily accessible to Regina should maintenance be required.
It takes enough concentration for her to maintain her simultaneous focus on the courtyard and the spell that she begins to sweat with effort. Magic pours out of her prodigiously in amounts that nearly rival what she'd been required to use to counter Zelena. For nearly a minute she holds the spell, and in that time, the entire room begins to quake with the vast amounts of magic being wielded. Her body is just beginning to tremble when she hears a great whoosh.
Her eyes bolt open to see a vortex emerge from the midst of the portal, not dissimilar to the funnel of a tornado – for which Oz is famous – only in reverse. When Ozma cuts the flow of her magic a moment later, Regina does the same. With the sudden release, she gasps and pitches forward, but Red is quick with her reflexes and catches Regina before she careens into the swirling vortex.
"Careful," Red says, wrapping her arms around Regina's waist. "I've got you."
"Thank you," Regina replies in a breathy tone, still struggling to catch her breath. She watches with dimmed fascination as the vortex picks up speed, swirling ever faster until it finally collapses back in on itself with an even greater whoosh, leaving a perfectly flat plane of energy.
"And now we wait," Ozma says, not even a little perturbed by what she has seen and seeming to have no ill effects whatsoever from having used so much magic.
Regina raises an eyebrow, hand on her chest as her breathing at last begins to settle. "For what?"
Ozma gives her a look that resembles a child's with excitement. "For the portal magic to reach your world," she says, voice as affected as her demeanor. "It is beholden to the laws of nature as well as anything else, and since the distance between our worlds is vast beyond comprehension, it will take much time to traverse the distance."
"How long will it take?" Snow asks, seeming to be fascinated by what has happened almost as much as Regina is.
"I can only guess," Ozma answers. "I confess my astronomical skill is as lacking as yours with portals, Regina." They all share a laugh at that, even Regina, who can't even summon a thread of anger at being so publicly teased. "To hazard an answer," continues Ozma a beat later, "I would estimate perhaps an entire year. I will know when it has reached its destination by the portal changing colors. The side located on Oz will be purple and that of Misthaven green, indicating the direction the portal one is facing travels. It is only green for now because it has yet to connect to your world. When that happens, the Council of Directions along with Dorothy and I will make a trip to activate your side using the same method we applied here today."
Before Regina can question Ozma further, the beatific woman holds up her hand. "But before we discuss anything else, I must release my people to the feast."
Regina nods in understanding. "By all means." She then watches as Ozma steps away from the portal and faces the crowd, slipping her hand back into Red's as the Queen of Oz addresses her subjects.
"My beloved children," she says, "today has been most eventful. A day worthy of celebration. As such, a feast has been prepared for you all in the courtyard surrounding the Palace. Go, eat and drink and be merry, and may my blessings and my eternal affection be with you all!"
A deafening cheer erupts from the masses at Ozma's announcement. It is accompanied by yipping and baying from Toto, which Red openly sympathizes with, lamenting to Toto about the curse of having such sensitive ears. Some of the buoyance is obviously due to the promise of free food, but Regina thinks a great deal seems to be directed at their beloved potentate, a woman for which they have no limit of devotion. To these people, Ozma is clearly more than just their Queen. Ozma is Oz to them. She is the life and the breath and the soul of the nation whereas their champion Dorothy is its beating heart. Without either of them, Oz cannot be whole.
For the first time, she understands just how important her actions really were. There had been no thought of Oz in her plans outside of needing to procure a very specific ingredient that could only be found there. How could she possibly have anticipated meeting Dorothy? Or being soon after saved by the woman, after which she would go on to meet Ozma in a hasty attempt to save Dorothy's life? At a little cabin in a remote area of Oz, she'd made not one but three friends that have come to mean more to her than she can realistically take inventory of in such an environment. She can't know it right now, but over the course of many years, the three women who'd occupied that little cabin for all of two days together will turn out to be the kinds of friends she had once believed herself incapable of making. And they will remain a vital part of her life for as long as she draws breath.
One outwardly selfless act – her internal motivations are up for debate, for even Regina cannot tell whether her desperation to save Red was ultimately selfish or not – has rewarded her so much more than she could ever properly give thanks for. In defeating Zelena, she not only saved Red but an entire country above that, an accomplishment for which she will never cease being proud. In fact, when she dies, her epitaph will read, among other honorifics: "Faithful friend of fellow Monarchs Ozma, Dorothy, and Snow, ruler of Misthaven, and the Savior of Oz."
Aside from being recognized as Red's wife, Regina doesn't think there could be any greater complement.