First of all, thanks for the lovely feedback on last chapter. Your interest in this story keeps me writing even when life interferes hard, like it has done these days. This chapter answers some long-standing questions and opens some new ones to keep you on your toes. On the bright side, this is almost purely OQ interaction. Enjoy!
Knock-knock-knock, the mirror went under his knuckles. Nothing happened. No enchanted face appeared in it, no strangely enhanced image of Robin's own, and certainly no mysterious voice issued from its depths.
Robin sighed. Roland had a vivid imagination. It could easily be that Regina would come - if she came at all, that is - and confirm that the mirror was nothing more than just a common looking glass. What else could it be anyway?
Robin had, of course, heard about the Queen's obsession with mirrors, as the people would believe, as well as the many stories of what atrocious uses she'd been putting them to, spying being the least of them. They all sounded exaggerated, especially since he hadn't seen Regina use a mirror ever since they met. There'd been the broken, shattered one in the corridor of her palace, but even then she hadn't seemed too distraught by the sight.
The door opened and Roland rushed through it, chattering excitedly to a half-smiling Regina he was leading by the hand. Robin's lips twitched at the sight. She was great with him and the boy adored her. The occasional shadow of pain that crossed her face when she was with Roland never failed to tug at his heart. Yet despite the fact that his son brought forth bittersweet memories of her own more than anything else did, Regina hadn't pushed Roland away. Robin felt quite an irrational, highly inappropriate sting of envy, and an immediate onset of shame at it.
"Roland tells me there's a genie in the mirror." Her voice woke him from the momentary wanderings of his mind: the memory of how her hand had felt in his once, before her walls had run so high and thick he barely gained a glimpse inside anymore, let alone passage.
"Yes, I- didn't see anything, though."
"Papa," Roland wagged a finger at him, chiding with a laugh in his voice, "I telled you, the mirror will speak only with Regina."
"You're right, Roland," he grinned, "you really told me that." Robin looked at her with a small shrug. Was this even possible? If so, he would rather like to see it.
"Alright, sweetheart," Regina crouched to his level. "I'll talk to the genie now. Why don't you go and find Little John, and show him those drawings you made?"
"Okay," Roland nodded brightly. Robin grinned - okay was Roland's new favourite word. Roland waved to Robin and hopped out of the room.
Robin's eyes returned to Regina, who had already approached the mirror. He hesitated - would she want to do this in privacy, or was he fine to stay?
"Could Roland have been right?" She'd been eyeing the mirror for a while now, in what he believed was a suspicious manner.
"Easily." Regina ran her fingers across the frame. "Not my mirror, of course, but the enchantment makes it possible to..."
Fascinated, Robin found himself just a step behind her, staring into the silver-coated glass once again, once again seeing nothing but his own reflection and hers. There was something almost unbearable about this doubled image of hers - twice the beauty, twice the ache of being so close to her and yet so far away.
A blue mist swirled in the mirror, and there was nothing like that behind them for the mirror to reflect. Robin took an involuntary step back. Particles of mist floated together and apart again, until eventually they settled in the form of a ghostly face.
Regina and the Mirror stared at each other for a while, each measuring the other.
"If the Witch wants to talk, she'd better come in person rather than sending cowardly messages through my former servant." Regina's voice dripped contempt, and the face in the mirror frowned.
"I may serve the Witch now," it said at long last in a hollow voice, "but this errand is purely my initiative."
"The wish is still in effect," Regina noted after a while. "That's why you can come and see me in spite of being under her control now.
"Correct."
"Do you have information for me?"
"Again, correct."
"Why? You have no love lost for me." The air seemed to grow colder for some reason as the Mirror's frown deepened, and the tension was almost tangible. "Perhaps an unfortunate choice of words." Regina's voice had lost it's sarcastic undertone.
Whatever it was about Regina's former statement that had irked the Mirror, it collected itself fairly soon. It cleared its throat and jeered.
"The Wicked Witch is far more atrocious now than the Evil Queen."
Robin's brow furrowed, and he glared at the Mirror. The Evil Queen? The slyly spoken words had a hollow and unfamiliar ring to them. Nothing Regina had done in the past months warranted the moniker - whereas it had seemed justified in the past, it was out of place today. Everyone should have noted that.
"Word is, you and the Charmings are a team now," the Mirror said, and Robin liked the jibe not a bit.
Regina, however, ignored the tone. "True," she nodded simply.
"You can use all the help you can get."
"Go ahead, then."
The Mirror put on a solemn face, and Robin prepared himself for the worst. Hadn't they had enough bad news for a day? What on earth could it possibly be this time?
"The Witch holds the Dark One's dagger."
"We already know that," Regina said impatiently. "It's why she knows so much about me." She grew quiet for a moment, an absent expression settling on her face. The clouds cleared up somewhat as she turned back to the Mirror. "And from you as well, I expect."
"Yes."
Regina nodded, following an unvoiced trail of thought. At least it seemed to make sense to her - Robin was more clueless than ever.
"So what is this Witch up to?" Robin's attention peaked as Regina cut to the chase. "There's been no sign of her for weeks."
"Her final plan remains hidden to me." Well, that was bad news, wasn't it? The Mirror seemed genuinely worried itself. "It requires various ingredients. The Witch has everything she needs-" the Mirror paused. "From this world."
Regina exhaled. "From this world?"
"Yes," the Mirror said darkly.
"Does she have it?"
The bluish face nodded.
"When will she cast it?"
The Mirror's forehead creased, its eyes darted somewhere Regina and Robin couldn't see, and an agitated look crossed its face.
Before there was time for further questions, the floor shook beneath their feet. Regina hurtled forward, grabbing the rattling mirror and keeping them both upright. Robin was thrown against an armchair facing the window. The sky had darkened in seconds and a great wind howled, sweeping up branches and uprooting trees. The walls seemed to shake and windowpanes rattled. An ear-splitting thunder deafened him momentarily.
Then everything was gone the way it had come, abruptly and without warning. The sky cleared again, branches and tree trunks crashed to the ground, and an eerie quiet settled upon the chamber and the world outside. Not a leaf stirred, not a bird sang.
"What the hell was that?" Robin scrambled back to his feet and turned to Regina. Thankfully, she, too, was unharmed.
She straightened the mirror and smoothed down her dress as if this sort of thing happened every day. But when she turned to him, Robin's stomach dropped at the shadow upon her face and the way she swallowed before responding.
"The Dark Curse."
Robin stared at her. Surely not...surely there was another explanation. His being fought against the fact it yearned to contend with - with no success. It was true - it had to be. He hadn't seen much of the Curse the last time, and perhaps it didn't even act the same when cast on different occasions. It wasn't for him to know, though - if someone did know their way about magic, it was Regina. Her reaction spoke for itself, and Robin didn't need the Mirror's confirmation, but looked at the sinister face anyway when it spoke.
"It hits tomorrow," the Mirror nodded gravely.
The Dark Curse. Robin had escaped it once, but this time it wouldn't be the case. What would it bring upon them? Would he be able to hold on to Roland? Or would he forget he ever had a son? Such a thing didn't seem possible, and yet… Regina's hand went up to her temple and she rubbed a few circles on it. The rising urge to reach out to her while he still could filled him with frustration. She didn't want him to, she'd been very clear about that. Yet his first instinct had been to grab Roland with one hand and Regina with the other and hold on to them as tight as he could in the face of this new, looming threat.
The Mirror fidgeted at some unheard noise and turned left and right, looking around hastily. "I must go."
"Wait," Robin stepped forward. He'd been considering this for far too long already. Maybe the Mirror, being in the Witch's possession, could answer his question. Robin glanced at Regina. Now was his chance to make sure, to clear this up once and for all. "Has this Witch ever mentioned a pair of magical slippers?"
He held his breath.
"She has," the Mirror eyed him curiously, " but she doesn't own them anymore."
Robin let out a long sigh. Here we go. About time, too, about time that he finally knew for certain. Of course the Witch didn't own the slippers anymore - Robin Hood knew more about their location that the Witch did. It seemed there was at least one advantage they had over their foe after all. But was it too late now?
The room came back to focus around him once Regina spoke hastily.
"Anything at all about her parentage?"
Robin glanced at her then back at the mirror. Of course Regina wanted to know if the allegations made by the Witch were true or not. If the Witch was indeed her sister, it would most likely be yet another bitter pill for her to swallow, and for her sake, Robin caught himself wishing it weren't true. Yet the information was of importance for a different reason as well, one Regina didn't knw yet, and this required the exact opposite outcome. Which would it be?
The Mirror raised an eyebrow. "She and the Dark One have discussed at length her being your half-sister. I didn't think it was important, considering the other news."
"No," Regina frowned. "It's not."
The face disappeared in a swirl of blue smoke, and the usual smooth surface of the mirror took its place once again.
Regina crossed the room and stopped by the window, looking out over the vast landscape stretching before them.
His spirits should be soaring now, for he had finally found an answer to a riddle posed to him decades ago, before the first Dark Curse had even been cast. Instead, all he could think of was her, the forced calm with which she had accepted the news, the clear intent to face up to it without a sign of weakness. Once again, as several times before, he felt a mighty urge to offer comfort - but, as before, it wasn't welcome. So Robin watched Regina's motionless, statuesque figure etched against the setting sun - the last sunset he was to see in this land, and quite possibly the last of Regina.
Regina slammed her fist against the stone wall, but halfway through it she lost the momentum. Life seemed to be draining out of her slowly. The Witch was pocketing a win, and the fact that for her it clearly was just a temporary one, just one leg in a longer race, was doing nothing to make Regina feel any better about it. There was nothing anyone could do to stop the Curse once it had been cast. All they could do was wait for it to strike - and then start from ground zero again.
The poise, controlled manner in which she'd managed to deliver the bad news hadn't done much to mitigate the effect on the others. Tears had welled up in Snow's eyes, and Regina's collectedness had all but gone at that moment, knowing well enough that Snow was remembering another time the Curse had snatched her away from her home, her husband, and her newborn child. I'm sorry, she found herself mouthing, and Snow just closed her eyes as the room erupted with exclamations, questions and curses.
Charming had stubbornly held on to the one hope that the Witch was bluffing and there wasn't a curse at all, or why would she let the mirror reveal her plans at the last minute? Until Regina told him, hating her own emotionless voice, that it was precisely the fact that her plan was irreversible that made the Witch so negligent of the revelation. She was probably even enjoying tormenting them with the knowledge of the impending end - and their helplessness in the face of it. Oh, how Regina hated her for that only!
Then voices had demanded Regina tell them where they'd be whisked away this time and what would happen to their memories - as if Regina had a way of knowing when she wasn't the one to have cast the wretched Curse this time around. There would be memory loss for certain - Regina was guessing the past year at the very least would be gone, so that the Witch could erase even what little progress they'd made in uncovering her plans.
Regina's fist landed on the hard stone again. Without even the memory of their foe, they'd be completely at her mercy.
What did the Witch want? What realm could possibly hold the key to her ultimate plan? Without a portal, even if they knew, it would be next to impossible to prevent it. But they didn't know, they still had no clue, and nothing the Mirror had told her was of any help. She should have asked about that instead of the stupid question about familial ties. No. The Mirror didn't know any more than they did, even the Witch wasn't stupid enough to have revealed so much.
My sister. Could it be true? It seemed so. There had been a time Regina would have given anything for a sibling, someone to share all the curiosities of her childhood with - a childhood by no means simple with a mother like Cora. A sister would have understood the things Regina would never have been able to share even with a friend, had she had one. In the end, it all came back to Cora - the mother who'd never bothered informing Regina that she had a sister at all. Why?
Regina huffed angrily and knocked a pile of books from the table in a wide gesture. It didn't matter why. Clearly, Cora'd had a past, and not one she wanted revealed. Perhaps that was clever. Regina's past, on the other hand, had been sold to Zelena by the Dark One and the Mirror. Every staged scene from her past, every reference, it all made sense now: the villages, the unicorn, the vipers. Zelena had all the advantages, and she'd have even more once Regina's memory was wiped clear by the Curse. There was nothing Regina could do but wait and hope for the best - and she'd never been particularly patient or optimistic to begin with.
As the afternoon dragged on, people came and went, peering into the room, even saying a few words now and again, then leaving after receiving no response. Snow didn't talk to Regina, but left her lunch and a tentative hand on her shoulder for a moment that brought an onslaught of remorse Regina didn't know what to do with. Tink floated in through the window but the fairy wasn't her cheerful self and left the same way again soon. Once, the door creaked open and she thought she spied Roland's dark eyes peering in before a hand pulled him back into the corridor and closed the door again.
Regina sighed. Well, there was no reason Robin would want to check on her - or even do anything but enjoy his son while he still could. Regina hoped against hope that father and son would wind up together wherever this Curse was taking them. As to her, she had nothing to expect from a man she'd decided to have as little to do with as possible.
I ran again.
Regina was prodding the contents of her plate dispassionately when there was a knock on the door. She ignored it. There was nothing special about this one compared to the few others she's d hear in the past hour.
After two more rounds, Regina raised her head form the plate irritably, but not without a hint of curiosity. People would either leave or just come in without invitation, but whoever this was, they were neither leaving nor entering without eliciting a response first.
"I'm in no mood for company," Regina called.
"M'lady. A word, please."
Regina's heart leapt at his voice. So he had come after all. At the same time, her chest tightened. What did he want? This was a vulnerable time, and she wasn't sure she could handle his presence right now. Tinkerbell's words rang in her ears, and for a brief moment the idea of letting them stand so close - or closer - as that time in the courtyard when Robin held her hand, chased everything else away. Despite her efforts in the past months, she yearned to see him. It might be the last time.
"Come in," she sighed.
Robin took a deep breath before stepping through the door.
Regina was sitting behind an ornate dressing table, her almost full plate either suggesting lack of enthusiasm about beans or the overall situation. There was something in her eyes he hadn't seen there in ages, a sparkle he'd missed. It was also the first time in months that she was looking back at him directly like this, not averting her eyes the moment hers and his locked for what she felt was too long.
Robin gave himself a mental shake. He needed to focus. This was hard and tricky and he wouldn't be the least bit surprised if it turned nasty. If his suspicion was right, he should have told her ages ago. If it was wrong, he should tell no one of this - but tomorrow it wouldn't make a difference anyway because no one would remember. Despite this, the idea of her last sentiment for him being anger or worse caused him heartache.
Robin glanced at the pile of books scattered everywhere: the table, the bed, the armchair. "Last minute research?"
"Yes." It sounded better than idle despair anyway. She had been turning pages, even though he suspected it was more out of stubbornness than any real hope.
"May I?"
Her gesture said 'go on' where her lips remained sealed, so he pulled a puff to join her at the table covered in bottles, vials, and scrolls of parchment.
Then, focus or not, anticipation or not, he found himself simply staring at her, drinking in her face after such a long time: her shiny raven hair with not a strand out of place even at a time like this, her eyes bearing his look with a strange mix of hunger and foreboding, her features somewhat strained but no less captivating.
She drew a sharp breath and let it out slowly.
"Is this about…?" Her voice trailed off and a she tilted her head.
Of course she had no idea what this was about.
"The thing I was going to speak about at the council, the one I said I needed to talk to you about later, and what the Mirror told us." It all came back to what he'd been suspecting might be, but had only really started taking a real shape once the magic mirror answered his one burning question.
Regina eyed him with unmasked curiosity.
Then she looked out of the window with pursed lips. He waited because something about her countenance suggested a burning issue waiting to be spoken, yet a reluctance to do so. When she did finally speak, she did so without looking at him.
"All those obstacles she threw in our way - the ones relating to my past?"
Robin remembered all too well the horrors they'd encountered on their quest and how upsetting they'd proven to her. Waiting for confirmation, she glanced at him and he nodded.
"That's how she knew. From Rumple, and from the Mirror."
It made sense now, of course. The Witch must have gained control of Regina's enchanted mirror along with the Dark Palace, and milked it for information much like she had obviously done with the Dark One. Robin's heart went out to Regina. Whatever those re-enactments had been about exactly, he wished she hadn't had to endure the torture. She didn't know it, but there were bits in his past that haunted him, and just the idea of someone dragging them out into light to manipulate him was as revolting as it was mortifying. If only at least the wretched Mirror had held its tongue.
The Mirror. Right. He needed to talk about that.
"Regina," he wrung his hands, "I asked about the slippers for a reason.'
She turned back to him at the words, her body relaxing visibly at the change of topic. "Yes, I was wondering about that."
"I was entrusted with stealing such a pair once." There. It was out. Finally.
Regina arched an eyebrow. "From this Witch? By whom?"
"Not from the Witch, no." An image resurfaced in his mind, sharp and clear despite the time elapsed: a man, dandy and fairly well-dressed with a hat that rendered him conspicuous amongst many. "From a man referred to as a world-hopper."
"Jefferson?" A flicker of recognition turned her surprise into a frown. Regina's face gained a far-away look.
Did she know this peddler? It seemed so. Maybe he shouldn't really be surprised, what with Regina's knowledge of magic.
"I- I've heard them referenced." The memory seemed jarring for some reason, and Regina fiddled with the silver spoon. "When I was Rumple's apprentice." Rumplestiltskin again. No wonder Regina was tense once more. "Jefferson said he couldn't get them because they'd been removed to another realm."
"I don't know what happened to them after I stole them. But the commission was extraordinary." Even the fact that he'd worked on commission was extraordinary. Her look was challenging him to elaborate, so he tried to explain. "It wasn't the kind of job I'd usually have taken. For one, it involved a magical item - I don't dabble in magic if I can help it." He hoped to heavens he'd managed for it not to come across as injuring or judgemental. "For another thing, it didn't serve the poor." In all honesty, he hadn't even known whom it would serve - he still didn't.
Regina pinned him with a look of increased curiosity.
"Why did you take it?"
"Because of this." Robin pulled out a sheet of yellowed parchment from a hidden pocket in his boot. It had been there for years, but he'd been taking good care of it, and it was barely frayed from the multiple rereadings he'd done through the years. "This was my payment, as well as my hiring letter. I think you'll understand when you read it."
A slight quiver of his otherwise always so steady fingers betrayed his rising anxiety, and Regina reached for the parchment with a wary look. Robin wished he could just wipe it away - he hated to be the one causing it, even if he was only the bearer of the news rather than the cause.
Regina unfolded the letter and began to read, and by the minute changes in her face, the look in her widening eyes, he could follow her progress almost to the word.
You whom they call the Prince of Thieves, to you I entrust a delicate task of crucial importance.
A powerful sorceress is rising to one day become a threat to us all. The green-eyed monster shall transcend the boundaries of magic to swallow lives as if they'd never existed. The sorceress can be vanquished, but if by the day of her most horrid deed no one should succeed, a failsafe must be provided.
You, Prince of Thieves, must obtain for me her own pair of slippers imbued with the magic to travel between realms. Heed my call now, for the Dark One has already set his sights on them. Find the man known as the world-hopper and remove the slippers. Leave them in the trunk of an ancient, magical tree you've passed many times in the heart of the forest. My enchantment shall lend them what power is needed, and they shall be moved to a place from which only the sorceress' own blood can retrieve them when the time comes.
Dark and light she shall be, hard and soft, the bearer of a heart most resilient.
Tarry not, Prince of Thieves, for time is of the essence.
G.
Regina exhaled softly as her finger rested upon the ornate letter G. It was a moment before she raised her head from the yellowed parchment, and Robin scrutinised her face. It was hard to tell what was going on inside her. The contents of the letter were disturbing beyond doubt, but she liked to keep a composed expression when she was upset. So Robin bore into her eyes, for they were where Regina's emotional turmoil so often reflected.
Regina seemed to understand what he was doing though, and collected herself within seconds, gesturing at the letter. "And this…made you do it? Steal the slippers?"
Her lips were pursed, though whether it was in mockery, suspicion, or annoyance, he wasn't sure. Either way, all of those sentiments were ones he'd experienced when he'd first read the ominous words.
"It sounded crazy. I thought it was a trick at first, but the letter…" Robin paused as the memory came back to him, so vivid he heard the whispered words echo off the walls. "It started reading itself."
"What?"
"I heard a whisper. The letter was reading itself, every day." For three nights Robin hadn't been able to sleep a wink, while everyone around him was happily snoring away, never hearing the quiet, urgent voice that seemed to be reserved for him alone. "After the third day, I decided to do it. I left the slippers in the tree as instructed and stayed to spy from a bush."
"What happened?" Regina seemed intrigued despite herself.
The smell of rain and crushed elderberry flowers invaded his nostrils much like that night. "I saw a white shadow, a glowing haze of sorts, and then she disappeared - along with the slippers." Curiosity had spurred him towards the trunk that night to take a closer look. "There was another note in their place." Regina eyed him expectantly. Robin shrugged with an apologetic half-smile. "It just said 'Look hard, and doubt all you see.'"
The note wasn't very informative, but it was important nonetheless - it was part of the reason he'd been so cautious about revealing this story. Would Regina understand? Whether she was mad with him or not shouldn't probably be his first concern in the face of the grave situation, but he couldn't help it - he cared a whole lot.
Regina scoffed. "Not very encouraging after already suspecting the author of the letter of fraud. I gather you haven't seen her or the slippers ever since?"
He shook his head. Then he turned to her with a question he'd been asking himself for all those years. "Do you think it's true?"
A desperate look settled in her eyes for a moment. "I don't know," she sighed. "But we have nothing else." Her look gained an intensity that almost threatened to burn holes in him, and a hardness crept into her features. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
There was hurt and there was disappointment in her voice, and Robin froze. He'd anticipated anger but not sadness, and he would have given everything now to stand against a raging wrath instead of the momentary look of dejection.
Her own reaction seemed to startle her, and she quickly rearranged her face into a stony expression. "We could have been looking for these slippers for months."
Robin nodded - this had been his biggest issue. Should he have stepped up months ago with this instead of just this morning? Could the Witch have been stopped then, and was it because of him the Dark Curse had even been enacted now?
The one thing he felt remotely good about was that he'd chosen to talk to Regina privately rather than bringing it up at the council first. This was personal for her, especially now that Zelena had been revealed to be her relative. Regina wasn't letting it on, sure, maybe not even to herself, but the harder she was working to keep her face expressionless, the larger he suspected the storm raging inside her had to be.
"I didn't know," he admitted finally. He'd been racked with doubts for years now, for much longer than Regina knew. "I had theories, but if I'd been wrong, it could have been a disaster. The last message sounded like a warning." Robin hesitated - what he was about to say next had been haunting him for these past few months, and he was both burning to confess and dreading it at the same time. "I really did make a mistake first." Regina's eyes narrowed in an unspoken question. "There was a time years ago when I thought the menace the letter was referring to was…" Robin hesitated. He hated himself for this now and he was ashamed, even though he was well aware his suspicion had made sense back then.
A bitter smile spread on Regina's face.
"Me," she finished for him.
"I was wrong, obviously. I'm sorry."
It was only after the Witch had started wreaking havoc in the Enchanted Forest that Robin began to suspect she could be the true target of his past theft. Even after he'd teamed up with Regina he'd wondered if he'd perhaps chosen the wrong sorceress to join forces with - but Roland's life had been at stake, and even if he had been right all along and the Evil Queen was the true threat, Roland's life was too precious for him to hazard with. His conscience had been torn between the greater good and his son, and he'd chosen Roland. He would always choose Roland. Thankfully, his selfish decision had eventually brought him to see the fault of his earlier suspicions. He'd chosen the right side, and he'd seen that fairly early on aftrwards. But he'd taken a long time to make sure the Witch was indeed the sorceress from the letter - too long a time, he now knew.
"I wish I'd told you sooner, Regina."
She looked at him closely and her features softened.
"Never mind that now."
Robin was supposed to feel relieved - she wasn't lashing out at him in a wild, destructive rage. She didn't even seem mad at him. This woman had been trying so hard to distance herself from the Evil Queen, even she was giving herself far too little credit for it - and so many others were quick to forget this at times. If only his wretched confession hadn't reminded her of all this. Instead of relief, his heart was overrunning with affection.
Robin reached out and brought his hand next to hers on the table. Their fingers were barely touching, yet his skin tingled. "Maybe there's still time to find them." Any moment now, she'd pull back, like she'd been doing ever since their arrival to the palace. "Before the Curse hits."
Regina's look rested on their joined fingers. For a good while, she didn't move at all, didn't seem to blink.
"No." At long last, she pulled her hand from his touch, brushing his fingers with hers on the way - slowly, agonisingly, but not without a certain sweetness that turned bitter as the contact ended. "If the letter tells the truth, the slippers can only be located before her final deed." She paused and took a deep breath. "It isn't time yet."
Robin's eyes wandered from the letter in her hand to her face. Was she talking about the letter only, or-?
She held his gaze for a moment, then looked out of the window. Her eyes gained a faraway look, as if in her mind she was transcending realms to some unknown place.
"We need to look for the slippers wherever the Curse sends us from here."
"But we won't remember any of this." Not remembering Regina filled Robin with an almost unbearable sense of loss. Forgetting her seemed impossible, and yet they both knew it was going to happen.
Regina looked him in the eyes and smiled that smile that only made sadness so much more daunting.
"Exactly."
Here we go, then - the Dark Curse is on its way, and after next chapter, the story will be moving to Storybrooke. I'm quite curious as to how this slippers plot works for you so far, so if you feel like sharing your first impressions (or sentiments about anything else in this story as well), I'll be glad to hear from you. :)