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 39 – The Responsibility of Monarchs
While the multitudinous attendees filter out of the throne room, the dignitaries make idle chit chat. By unspoken agreement, they split off into groups as people are prone to do in a crowd. Red joins Snow and Charming alongside Dorothy and her Ozian adventuring companions, whereas Regina spends the lion's share of her time with Ozma being introduced to the Cardinal witches. There is initially a lot of unavoidable awkwardness with Glinda that Ozma gracefully – and mercifully – breaks up by steering the conversation toward the safe waters of their common interest: magic.
Soon enough, the Cardinal witches beg their leave, as do Dorothy's strange friends, leaving the room empty save for the three key couples at the center of the day's festivities. Ozma then ushers them out via a more discrete exit to avoid any loitering attention seekers. Another several minutes is spent traversing the precise corridors of the Royal Palace before arriving at the banquet hall where the most esteemed guests will feast in celebration of the newly minted alliance. Some things never change, no matter the setting or the world. The nobility receiving preferential treatment is one of them. Not that she is about to complain. Her wife of more humble roots may curl her nose at the gaudy reek of privilege, but Regina was accustomed since birth for segregation to always work in her favor. She has no intention of that ever changing.
Chosen members of the council and other dignitaries that represent the various races of Oz will be dining with them tonight. Preeminent among those are Dorothy's peculiar friends: the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodsman, the Cowardly Lion, and Tik-Tok. Each of them are placed to the left of Oz's beloved champion, who is herself next to Ozma in the center of the enormous oaken dining table. To Ozma's right is Regina, then Red, Snow, and finally Charming, who gets the pleasure of sitting next to an unexpected guest.
At this very moment, the shepherd king is currently embroiled in an animated discussion with Darion, the guardsman who had a surprising change of heart after her memory suppression spell wore off. The very next day, he apparently joined the resistance against Zelena and went on to raise arms for Ozma after news spread of the Wicked Witch's death. He now serves as Captain of the Royal Guard. Regina learns through listening to their conversation that Zelena had compelled his service by threatening his wife and children, and that day in the village when he'd tried to kill her, he'd been visiting them and perceived her as a threat to their safety. While the knowledge does not dismiss his actions, it at least explains them so that she does not openly object to his presence.
As she is listening in on the variety of conversations going on around her, the food is brought in and placed in the center of the tables by the waitstaff. Vegetables of every kind have been prepared, including but not limited to ears of corn nearly a foot long, as well as scalloped, fried, and hashed potatoes, black beans and rice, and boiled squash. A roast duck is also served, along with a huge glaze-roasted hog replete with an apple stuffed inside his gaping maw. Lines of exotic fish of species unique to Oz adorn sterling silver platters, each grilled to perfection and none of which Regina can call by name. The fare is savory to the point her mouth waters and she hardly has an idea of where to start.
"I'd recommend the cabbage rolls," Ozma says, leaning over so that her shoulder brushes Regina's. "Naturally our chefs prepared them, but it is Dorothy who provided the recipe from her Aunt Em in Kansas. They are to die for."
"They look it," Regina agrees. "Everything looks delicious for that matter."
"More than," adds Red, who is eyeing the food with a lewd degree of lust.
Regina chuckles at her. Hopefully the chefs have prepared enough food to account for the bottomless pit that is a werewolf's stomach. She has her doubts, though. The first time she'd accommodated Red at the Dark Palace, she'd grossly miscalculated how much her new dinner companion could scarf down. Honestly, thin as she is, Regina still isn't sure where Red puts it all.
"Don't worry, there is plenty to go around," Ozma says, having evidently caught Regina staring wryly at Red. She directs an affectionate glance at Dorothy. "I have a healthy eater of my own to look after, you know."
Regina chuckles at the reminder. "I remember. I'm afraid the two aren't quite comparable. I don't think you understand just how much Red can devour in a single sitting."
"It's true," Red admits, looking somewhat chagrined. "I'm didn't eat breakfast 'cause my stomach was in knots, so I'm close to starving right now. I can probably eat as much as two fully grown men."
"That is not all that much," Ozma replies, appearing amazed in spite of her words.
"That's just her first serving," Regina then elaborates, chuckling again when Red blushes. "There will likely be a second."
"And a third if she's really famished," Snow interjects, then gives Red a friendly nudge with her elbow.
Red huffs out her displeasure at being ganged up on. Pouting adorably, she grouses, "I can't help it. Damn werewolf appetite."
"There is absolutely nothing wrong with it, darling," Regina says, then stage whispers to Ozma, "My filly is a thoroughbred, and I take my responsibility to see her needs met very seriously." When Red frowns in mock offense, Regina reaches for the hand resting on her lap. "Oh, now, don't pout. I happen to think your ability to out-eat an ogre is endearing," she soothes, and smiles when Red takes her hand with a sideways glance and a playful roll of her eyes that indicates she is not in bad humor about the jesting.
"Of that, I have no doubt," Ozma says, then to Red, "Eat your fill, my dear, and do not worry about the opinions of others. Dorothy certainly doesn't..."
"Oh, I plan to do some major damage," Red responds, eyes twinkling. "Starting with the roasted hog." She eyes said dish with a hunger that has her eyes gleaming yellow.
Ozma gives a merry laugh, and the whimsical chiming reminds Regina of the first time she'd heard it. How odd it is in retrospect for her to analyze how quickly she'd fallen under Ozma's charms. Few had ever wanted to be her friend out of genuine desire to know her, and she'd been fine with that. She has never been gregarious like Red, who lives to mingle and talk and interact in any way she can with as many people as she can. On the contrary, the isolation she used to occupy suited her darker personality. Without the annoying prodding of a friend at what made her surly, she could brood as long as she wished without interruption. Besides, she had her father and her beloved Rocinante to keep her company and her unhealthy fixation on revenge to focus on whenever the loneliness became unbearable.
Falling in love with Red had reopened the possibility of making herself vulnerable again, but even then she'd not felt compelled to broaden her horizons too far beyond the privacy of her bedroom. The most optimistic observer would be strained to label her relationship with Victor as even vaguely resembling a friendship. And she'd only befriended Mulan out of necessity. Not that she regrets the decision to let the spartan warrior into her heart, just that it would be dishonest to say she sought the friendship out.
With Ozma, though, it just came so effortlessly. Everything about the woman is simply magical, from her otherworldly physical appearance to her enchanting personality. Trusting Ozma feels like second nature, which should have been alarming to say the least. And yet the very opposite was true. Within hours, she was divulging secrets about herself she once would have taken to the grave.
Maybe it's because of what Ozma is, she thinks as she watches the aforementioned half-fairy point out various dishes to Red.
Regina had never met a half-fairy before encountering the temporarily deposed Queen of Oz. There was never any need to seek out their company as she had believed her opinion on the entire race permanently soured by her encounters with the fully fledged fairies from the Enchanted Forest. Sure, there was an innate desire to do good in Ozma, but Regina didn't think it came from her fae side. To Blue and her ilk, doing good often entailed some very bad things. Heinous acts like manipulating an ignorant young boy into purging his father of a curse by giving him a bean to open a portal to a land without magic, all the while knowing the likelihood of disaster approached absolute certainty.
Oh yes, Regina had heard all about that. From Belle no less. After the foolish maid got spurned when attempting True Love's kiss, she'd approached Regina for help. Evidently Belle got word – likely through Rumple – that the Dark One's former acolyte, the Evil Queen herself, became embroiled in an unexpected romance and had a subsequent attitude shift. When she, too, fell in love with a beast, she decided that made Regina the perfect person to consult.
In the process of negotiating said aid, Belle spilled the beans about how Rumple landed in his current state to begin with. How she came by the knowledge she would not say, nor did Regina care to extricate that source when she was being handed a potential weapon to use against the Dark One upon a silver platter. The tale was tragic, admittedly, but no more so than Regina's own. It was for Red's sake alone that she neglected to take advantage of poor little heartbroken Belle to strike out against the man largely responsible for constructing the Evil Queen. Regrettably, Red had taken an immediate shine to Belle and put a stop to any machinations before they were even nascent notions in Regina's head. So the maid was sent away with the only assistance she was willing and able to give – that is, a sage piece of advice that for Belle to have any chance with Rumple she would have to accept him for who and what he was, just the same as Red had done for her.
In any case, hearing about Rumple's devastating loss only solidified her already piss poor opinion of the entire lot of fairies. Save Nova. That one Regina is actually a bit fond of. Nova may be an idealist of the nauseating variety, but she has gumption to balance her idealism along with a healthy skepticism regarding the leadership of her kind. For the latter reason alone, Regina helped the love struck fairy abscond to Snow's new kingdom to be reunited with her beloved Dreamy, now known among Snow's septuplet of vertically challenged misanthropes as Grumpy. Disgusting as the idea of a dwarf and fairy in love is, she could not pass up the opportunity to spite Blue by facilitating a relationship the chief fairy had expressly forbidden.
Oh, and hadn't Blue's ire been delicious! Regina still grins whenever she thinks of how the self-righteous gnat responded by appearing in the Dark Palace to threaten her relationship with Red.
"It wouldn't be hard for me to show her what you really are," Blue had said, snarling from across the desk behind which Regina sat, completely unperturbed. "Or better yet, I could help her find her True Love!"
Though her eyes flashed as violent urges pranced through the fore of her brain, Regina had ignored them and calmly sat forward, hands steepled under her chin. "How very magnanimous of you to destroy a young woman's happiness solely out of an irrational hatred for the partner she's chosen to spend her life with. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were every bit as willing as I am to cross the lines of decency in pursuit of an agenda."
Blue had got the point. Spluttering with indignity, she proceeded to rail against the suggestion that she was anything like Regina. Which in the end was Regina's entire point. She once believed the same thing about herself and her mother, only she had blinded herself to the truth because she didn't want to see it. Willful ignorance of one's true nature is the most dangerous form of delusion, and in her experience, fairies are practically infested with it.
Ozma, though, is anything but ignorant. She is perfectly aware of her own foibles, and yet still determined to do the right thing. Not at all costs, but by placing her faith in the maxim that good always triumphs over evil and trusting in that rather than helping the cause out of some misguided sense that she is qualified to affect such change. And while Regina still believes that maxim to be patently false on a small scale, she has been afforded new perspective to the larger application. Looking back now, it really does seem as if good triumphs in the end, and that would be a grand enough revelation if Ozma hadn't also taught her that it matters how that victory comes to pass.
A month ago when Ozma visited Misthaven using the silver slippers recovered from Zelena's corpse, it was under the auspices of discussing the alliance. Regina suspected the true reason was that Ozma simply missed her. No doubt Dorothy did as well, but the Champion of Oz was unfortunately busy at the time dealing with a minor crisis that required her particular skill set. Another purpose to the visit was so that Ozma could return something to Regina that she left behind in Oz. Imagine her surprise when her friend appeared in the courtyard holding the reins of a gorgeous dapple gray steed who whinnied with delight upon catching sight of her.
Anyway, not long after a heartfelt reunion with Lucas, Regina arranged an impromptu meal to be prepared. Over dinner, she and Ozma were recounting their time at the cabin to Red, and during the discussion it came up how she never considered operating under the assumption Zelena could be saved. That from the outset, the plan was to kill her sister as there were no other viable, or tolerable, alternatives from her perspective.
"The ends don't always justify the means," Ozma had told her. In contradiction to her flawless skin and youthful features, the wisdom present in her blue eyes indicated the Fairy Queen to be a far more advanced age than she was. "I know you saved the day by killing Zelena," Ozma then said, "but at what cost to yourself? You may not regret that decision at present, but there may come a day you wish you'd given your sister the same chance at redemption you so mercifully received."
Regina, affronted, began to interrupt only for Ozma to raise her hand in a plea for Regina to listen to what she way trying to say. So Regina did. She owed Ozma that much, at least.
"Please understand," Ozma went on, "I am not condemning your actions so much as asking you to contemplate whether or not resorting to such extremes will always be the right choice. Not the correct one. The right one."
"Is there really any difference?" Regina had asked, still a bit flushed with indignation at being chastised in front of her wife.
Had Regina not known Ozma's answering smile to be from genuine affection, she would have taken it as pure condescension. From anyone else, the expression and the tone applied to the speech that followed would have provoked her to an irrational response. As it was, her trust of Ozma was all that prevented an outburst that might have derailed the entire evening, if not their fledgling friendship.
"That you have to ask that question at all should speak volumes," Ozma countered. "Of course there is a difference. Do you not remember that I could have struck Zelena dead at any time I wished?" Regina sat back, stumped at the recollection of that conversation, causing Ozma's lips to curl up at one edge. "I may be half human," she added, "but I am also half fairy. In lieu of my mother's death, by birthright the power innate to Oz itself became accessible for me to call upon at my leisure. If you will also recall, I made the point that had I slain Zelena outright, I would have taken destiny into my own hands, irreparably staining my conscience in the process. That may have been the correct decision, but it certainly wouldn't have been the right one."
"And so many died as a result. So many who didn't have to if you'd done what was prudent and necessary rather than electing to keep your conscience clean," Regina had countered, cold logic demanding she do so.
Back when they first discussed this topic, she had hardly been able to comprehend her friend's inaction in the face of the people of Oz suffering for it. For Red's sake alone she would have used every tool in her arsenal to eradicate Zelena's foul existence from the face of the earth. Adding to the equation the survival of the people she has come to love for their own sake outside of their usefulness to the Crown and she will only fight that much harder – and dirtier. Deceit, betrayal, and coldblooded murder are all on the menu when it comes to protecting what belongs to her.
Ozma nodded mournfully in acceptance of the, perhaps, harshly delivered point. "That is true, and I cannot deny that I am haunted by it each and every day. Would that I could have saved the kingdom without resorting to measures that surely would have created, if not in the blink of an eye most certainly in due time, a worse beast than the one that came before! I would have done it, Regina, I swear. The only way I am able to live with my choice is that I know I tried to save my people without compromising the ideals that make me who I am. If you'll recall, that is not a slippery slope I can risk starting down. Unlike it was for you, by virtue of my race it is for me a one way trip.
"Also, there is the not so insignificant fact that my refusal to compromise allowed much good that might otherwise have never happened. For instance, would you have ever learned that you have it in you to fight for the righteous cause if I had intervened? Furthermore, would you have ever discovered that Red is, indeed, your True Love? Would you have ever met me? Or Dorothy? Or mended the broken relationship between yourself and Snow? And that is just using you as example. Thousands more got the chance to rise to the occasion because I took consideration as to exactly who I am."
"I know you said before that killing Zelena would have corrupted you. I guess that information never really registered until now," Regina said, a little breathless with wonder. Back in Oz, she never stopped to let the implications sink in. She was too busy thinking about her own problems and cascading series of failures to prevent them to appreciate how precarious Ozma's position was.
"Now that it is," Ozma replied, "can you see that it matters just as much who I am as to who I am not?"
"What does that mean?" Regina hadn't meant to sound rudely obtuse, she was just struggling to see Ozma's point.
Ozma shrugged, tilted her head, then focused those impossibly blue eyes upon her. "It means before making such a momentous decision, I cannot afford to act irrationally and hope for the best as humans do. Too much is at stake, and not only for me but for my people. Who am I to decide the fate of so many without asking their input? That is what I would have been doing, after all. Does being a Queen give me that right? And who am I to judge whether or not all life is sacred or whether it is disposable at the whims of monarchs and warlords who had no part in it's creation? I fought Zelena, shoulder to shoulder with my people, but never while wielding my full might because I am a Queen, not a goddess like my mother was. That is something every magician worth their salt should be taught on their very first day of study. Had Zelena learnt that invaluable lesson, she may not have been tempted into the inescapable arms of a supreme force no mere mortal should rightly wield. But she forsook all consideration of meekness in her insane pursuit of power and the rampant abuse of her magic only further drove her into madness. Tell me, did you not experience the same phenomenon once upon a time?"
Regina had reeled a second time at the comparison, as much bothered by its accuracy as with whom she was being juxtaposed. Zelena's crimes were still fresh in her mind then, and she'd been loathe to accept any parallels between herself and her deceased half-sibling. However, her respect for Ozma seemed to be unshakable, and that made her seriously take inventory of the similarities she'd been blatantly avoiding ever since learning she wasn't an only child. Looking back, she could clearly recognize the character traits she and Zelena shared – their stubbornness, recklessness, volatile temper and pride foremost among them. Ozma had also brought forth another similarity that Regina could not deny if she wanted to maintain a shred of integrity. Because there had indeed been a period in her life where she transformed into something truly despicable to grasp the reins of power, magic having played a starring role in the production.
Blanching, she swallowed thickly as guilt took hold. Her chest ached with rapidly increasing pressure. All those little barbs Zelena had thrown at her, mocking her as a disappointment and a failure, taunting her with assertions that their mother would be embarrassed to see what she'd become...every last one was true. There was a time her mother was proud of who she was, a woman who would just as soon put a village to the torch and watch it burn – inhabitants and all – rather than seek out more conventional forms of entertainment. Once, during a particularly bad fit of boredom, she'd experimented on a prisoner just to see how much more effectively her magical fire seared flesh than the real thing. Was that really so different than anything Zelena did? No, not really. That answer made her so sick that she nearly lost her meal right there at the table.
Red's hand finding hers was the only thing that quelled the roiling waves of nausea. As usual, her wife sensed her disquiet and with impeccable timing leveraged an underappreciated gift for assuaging bouts of mental or emotional anxiety. Somewhat more calm, she glanced up to find Red staring at her worriedly and forced a reassuring smile that didn't reach her eyes. She didn't want her making a fuss when Ozma was merely making a point.
"I'm sorry to have upset you, but I felt I needed to emphasize my point in relatable terms," Ozma continued sagely, though her tone was more gentle in the face of Regina's awful realization and poor reaction. "You, most of all, should know that the most insidious aspect of power is that it corrupts with subtlety. Most assuredly I would have told myself I was using mine to purge my kingdom from a depraved woman hellbent on our destruction. Had I chosen to pursue acting upon that line of reasoning, I would have been celebrated, hailed as a savior by a grateful nation. Perhaps I would have even been worshiped as a benevolent deity as many such heroes are. There are many ghastly tales of a fall from grace that begin that way. How long before I became yet another example because I started to crave the praise like it was a drug? How long before I, too, fell victim to the intoxicating combination of my people's limitless adoration and my own insatiable pride?"
She paused to draw in an unsteady breath, looking more frail than Regina had ever seen her. "You see me as some infallible bastion of virtue, but I assure you I am not. Far from it, if I'm being frank. Fairies are inherently, and in particular, susceptible to the dangers of pride. I am no exception to that rule. Thankfully, my human side has humbled me enough to recognize that character defect. However, if I had acted as others wished me to, inconsiderate of my own conscience, I would all too soon lose myself to the same seductive whispers that have corrupted so many of my kind before me. Did you not know that a vast majority of the great evils to be written about or spoken of in myth and legend are based upon fallen fairies? One of the most infamous is the Black Fairy. She, too, used her power for what she perceived as the greater good, and it turned her into a monster of nightmarish proportions. It took every living fairy within a thousand miles to end her reign of terror. Had I struck Zelena down with impunity, I would have soon enough joined the Black Fairy in the inescapable darkness into which she was banished."
The lesson, although distasteful, was well-received. Not that Regina had any intention of changing her own way of thinking. She is comfortable with who she is. That said, she is more willing now to listen to the voice of reason and to err on the side of caution before resorting to extremes. Ozma had been right to point out her own gross abuse of power had made her into something nearing a hideousness as to be irredeemable. Ozma had also been right that there is a difference between doing the correct thing and doing the right thing.
The problem for Regina is that she knows herself far too well. Should she ever again find herself in a situation like Red being stricken with the sleeping curse, she will do what is necessary to save her, consequences be damned. The only thing that will change is that she is no longer alone upon that temptation-fraught path. She has friends that will be right there by her side who will help keep her from careening over the edge into the abyss. Snow has already proven herself capable of doing just that, as there's little doubt in Regina's mind she would have done much worse had Snow not been there than ensorcelling one guardsman, offing a few others in a skirmish, and then killing her sister during their showdown. She'd probably have burnt the whole of Oz to the ground to get what she wanted, and not felt a bit remorseful afterwards.
In the end, she was glad Snow came along, if only to preserve the painstaking progress Red has helped her make. She still is. And she's equally glad to have gained two new friends who are just as invested in the condition of her heart as her wife and her former step-daughter, one of whom is a practical paragon of virtue – that despite Ozma's insistence to the contrary.
When Regina notices Dorothy rise from the table and meander over to speak with the Scarecrow, her mind turns back to Ozma's fantastical origins. She seizes the opportunity to address some research she'd done into fairies after her foray into Oz.
"I've been meaning to ask you about something, Ozma," Regina says, trying to maintain her composure. In the background the gangly strawman, in a tizzy about something, flails his arms haphazardly while Dorothy bobs and weaves to avoid being smacked by a rogue limb. It's a comical sight she would have a good chuckle over if it weren't for the severity of what she wishes to discuss. Sensing the importance of the topic, Ozma listens intently as she says, "After meeting you last year, I did a great deal of research on fairies when I got home. In my studies, I discovered that they are immortal. Is that true?"
Ozma nods, expression indicating her surprise at the subject matter. "It is. Why do you ask?"
"For one, there were no indications in my tomes as to the origins of the species and how they may have attained such a boon."
"If one can call it a boon," says Ozma. "Some may argue that watching those they care for die over and over again is a curse." She then furrows her brow slightly before shrugging off the heavy thought that crossed her mind. "As for the topic at hand, I am surprised to hear that none of your scholars have discovered how our kind are created. The magic you practice in your world is quite advanced. The secret should have been uncovered long ago."
"Not advanced enough, apparently," Regina says, then narrows her eyes. "By created, do you mean to say that Fairies are unnatural?"
Ozma shakes her head. "Unnatural? No. We are born as other natural beings are. However, our conception is, by any metric, supernatural solely by virtue of our parentage."
"What do you mean?" Regina asks, now fascinated.
"All fairies trace their immediate lineage back to a divinity who took corporeal form and procreated with a lesser sentient being. Mostly this happens between deities and elves or other such magical races. When they breed with humans, however, beings such as myself are produced. We inherit far more attributes from our terrestrial parent than the others." A question races across the forefront of Regina's mind regarding the fairies she has encountered and why they look human, but before she can voice it, Ozma adds, "Before you ask, the reason why most fairies you will encounter resemble humans is because they take on human attributes to appear more innocuous. Familiarity breeds comfort, yes? Their original form would be closer to that of an elf or a satyr or centaur or other such entities, but they shed those for the most part when the elder races began to fade into the shadows. Scaring away little boys and girls they wish to help, or manipulate, would be counterproductive."
"That...actually explains a lot," Regina says. Setting aside for now the confirmation of beings that exist on a plane beyond sensory perception, she latches on to the part about fairies abandoning their true appearance to fool naive or ignorant humans. It suddenly makes sense of why she's never felt safe around Blue or her cadre of sanctimonious do-gooders of oxymoronic moral ambiguity. They are always working an angle, always driven by an agenda they keep tightly tucked against their chests. Fairy aid is never given without it serving some ulterior purpose. The ancient magical races are, according to every available lore source, notorious tricksters and schemers. No doubt the head fairy is the offspring of some particularly loathsome demon or demoness...
Ozma smiles indulgently. "I'm glad to have been of service. And the second reason for your inquiry?"
"Well," Regina pauses to take a preparatory breath. This is a delicate line of questioning that she doesn't want to come out wrong. "When Dorothy first arrived in Oz and you were a prisoner of Mombi, you said you were both children. Correct?"
The story had stuck with Regina, and with Red on the road to a full recovery, she'd used some of her scant downtime while her wife napped to ponder how Ozma could have progressed through development in the same way a human does. In all of her research, fairies were purported to be of static age, that is, they sprang into being at their designated age through some mystical process that remains to date undiscovered. That Ozma was half-human could account for her having aged from infancy, but even then it was suspicious that the advancement occurred as quickly as it did. Surely the part of her that was faerie would have slowed any natural process down significantly.
"True as well," Ozma says, elbows on the table and her head resting in her palms. "Though I was far from what you would consider a child. As a half-fairy, I age much differently than humans."
"Why, then, do you appear to be the same age as her today?" Regina asks, curiosity getting the better of her sense of decorum. "I intend no disrespect. It's just that if you are a fairy, or a half-fairy rather, should you not still be the little girl Dorothy first met? Or near it at least, having aged much slower?"
Ozma leans in toward Regina, eyes twinkling with appreciation. "Ah, I see. A clever observation most overlook when hearing of how we met. To answer your question: you are correct. I would still appear to be that same little girl had it not been for Dorothy. While I inherited my mother's immortality, I am also given the same choice as each and every one of my magical kin. At any time of our choosing, we are able to advance our appearance in age, but only ever forwards and never backwards. Most remain in the flower of their youth indefinitely, but some rare few choose to progress with the humans to whom they have grown inextricably attached. That is the path I have chosen. When Dorothy returned to Oz, I advanced myself to be her peer, and as she continues to age, I shall continue to do the same."
The information is certainly fascinating enough to hold Regina's attention for hours, though it quickly slips through her grasp like a pile of sand through her fingertips. The implications of what she's just learned are astounding – and alarming. Dorothy may be a strong, vital young woman right now, but that won't last. Like all other human beings whose lives are as vapors in the wind, she will eventually grow old and frail. And some day, hopefully far in the future, she will die.
Horrified at the prospect of Ozma ever meeting the same fate, Regina feels her heart begin to beat more rapidly. "Won't that mean you'll eventually die, too?"
"It does, indeed," Ozma says, not a bit sad or regretful over her decision. "I have chosen mortality rather than to be sundered from Dorothy for eternity after she passes."
"That is so tragic!" Red says, hands over her heart. "But it might also be the most romantic thing I've ever heard..."
When Regina stares at her wife like she's grown another head, Snow pitches in. "I agree, actually. Sad as it is, it is incredibly romantic."
"And incredibly permanent," Regina reasons in disbelief. "I mean no offense, Ozma, but wouldn't it have been wiser to extend Dorothy's life? I've seen your power. I am reasonably certain such a feat is well within your abilities."
"It is, and I offered to do just that," Ozma says, resolute. "Dorothy does not want to live forever, and even were I to disagree with her choice, I love and respect her far too much to undermine it."
That Ozma seems overtly proud over Dorothy's refusal is not inconceivably odd. Much as Regina can't fathom turning down immortality, is an admirable choice that shows remarkable foresight and restraint. She isn't sure she could do the same in Dorothy's position. There is so much she wants to do and not nearly enough time to get around to even half of it.
"As you can probably imagine, her decision made mine easy," Ozma adds, somewhat wryly. "Eventually facing old age and death isn't so bad a trade-off for spending my life with her. Unfortunately, our mortality brings other problems to bear."
Regina is versed enough in court politics to read between the lines. With Ozma no longer immortal, the issue of succession becomes increasingly critical to the nobility, who depend upon the patronage of their monarch to retain their power and prestige.
"You're talking about needing to produce heirs, right?" Red says, beating Regina to the punch.
"Quite so," Ozma inclines her head toward Red, looking as impressed by the deduction as Regina is.
"It goes without saying that Regina and I have the same problem," Red replies, cheeks tinged pink at Ozma's appraisal and Regina's beaming praise. "We've talked about it a lot, especially since I ate that stupid apple. We won't be around forever and our friends back home would much prefer their current stations to replacing us should something horrible happen. And since we really don't trust the nobles to pick somebody, we really need a legitimate heir. I think we both agreed that adoption suits us just fine."
"It makes the most sense," Regina confirms, still smiling as she reaches out to take Red's hand. "I am barren for reasons I don't care to discuss, and, quite to my relief, Red has repeatedly refused to entertain the many unsubtle suggestions that she breed outside our marriage." Red accepts the proffered hand and gives it a firm squeeze; she knows how much anxiety that scenario had created for Regina. The idea of some grubby nobleman having his way with her wife, even at their permission and with the sole purpose of siring a child that would rightfully be theirs, still makes her skin crawl and her stomach churn. As much sense as the council's proposition made, she's more than thankful for Red having so vehemently declined. She returns the pressure of Red's grasp along with a grateful smile. "What's more," she then says, "as she so aptly pointed out to me a time or two, there are many children in need of a home and we have much love to give."
Ozma hums in approval at the idea. "Necessity has yet to force Dorothy and I to broach the topic," she says after a moment of contemplation. "Also, she is not quite ready for children, I think. Still too much adventure to be had. But when the times comes, perhaps we will consider that as a viable alternative."
"I think that's splendid! Adoption is such a noble choice!" Snow chirps up. Regina bites back the urge to reprove the unsolicited opinion, knowing Snow is just happy that her friends are talking about having children. In her letters to Red, Snow often lamented that she didn't have any nieces or nephews that Emma could play with.
Tempted as she is, Regina cannot resist at least a snide comment. "What would you kno..." Unfortunately, the sounding of footsteps interrupts her. She glances up to see Dorothy approaching, looking pensive.
Something is wrong. Regina braces herself for bad news.