A/N: A big thank you to everyone who has liked, followed or commented to the first chapter! It's been a long time and I apologize for that. I still intend to continue writing this story. I have no idea how frequent the updates will be, because some important things are happening in my real life, but I have an outline for the entire story, I love writing about the Missing Year and this is kind of an experiment for me in order to complete an OQ multi-chapter story. Reviews are always welcome and appreciated! Thank you Baba (Babatomyfriends) and Franzi (soligblomma) for checking this chapter for me!
Excess brightness is the first thing that registers to Regina's mind as she's waking up. She tries to blink, but the light doesn't let her.
She rolls on her bed, intending to face the other side of the room and hoping that the change will be friendlier to her irritated eyes.
She succeeds.
It takes her a few seconds to regain the ability to blink normally and awareness comes even more slowly. She gradually remembers all the details from the previous night and she wishes she could go back in time – even if she could only travel to just a minute ago when her main problem was the light of the morning sun.
Her head feels heavy when she attempts to sit up and she falls back on the sheets, lying on her back this time.
Regina realizes she can see more clearly now, even in the direction of the sunlight that is still too bright. That's how she notices the piece of clothing she's currently lying on. Her eyes fall to a hint of gray, something that doesn't fit among her white sheets.
The last painful moment of her night returns vividly in the form of an unwanted memory and Regina brings her palm up to cover her face.
After making sure that the fire of the oven was out the night before, Regina left the kitchen without bothering to place the unused ingredients back to their right places. She thought she would probably want to get distracted by baking again; there was no point in wasting more energy – energy she didn't feel she had anymore – to tidy a room used only by her.
A brief thought of the outlaw crossed her mind, but she dismissed it quickly. Just because they accidentally met close to the kitchen, it didn't mean that they would meet there again or that he would look for her there.
Regina knew he had no reason to seek her out. She knew that the lines of worry she noticed on his forehead when she held her heart in her hands (she tells herself that he was worried about whoever he thought she had killed) and the kind expression in his eyes when she gave him the apple pie were nothing more than evidence of how noble – and maybe naïve – of a man Robin Hood was. Despite her worries that she had revealed some of her most well-hidden thoughts to him, she hoped that he, too, was aware that her business wasn't his business.
Their eventful meeting in the hallway was the first time Regina saw the thief after that first night in the castle, and she wished it would also be the last; she didn't need anyone breathing down her neck every moment of every day like Snow was trying to do. Regina was better off alone in her room, the small kitchen, her secret library or the balcony where her apple tree was still standing, parts of the palace most people were too scared to approach.
Regina started walking in the dark hallway, knowing that using her magic to move herself directly into her bed chambers wasn't worth it. Her exhaustion would either lead her to the wrong place or make her crash into a wall. She didn't care if she hurt herself, but her hands were full of apple pie and she didn't want to risk destroying it.
Every step felt heavy on her feet and echoed in the empty corridors.
She reached her room after what felt like hours, thankful that no one seemed to have been awake to witness the state she was in. She didn't bother looking in her full-length mirror, but judging from the dizziness she felt, she was sure she looked pale enough for someone to think she was becoming a ghost.
But wasn't that all she was, really?
She was only memories, distant and yet so vivid memories of a time brighter than anything else in her entire life. Memories and a lost soul, not likely to find her way ever again.
After the door closed silently behind her, she put the pies on a side table. She forced herself to take off her clothes, knowing that the tightness of her corset wouldn't allow her to breathe properly once she lay down. It wasn't easy; each garment that fell on the floor let chilly puffs of air touch her newly exposed skin and even the nightgown she wore left her body cold and uncomfortable. She completed the task manually in order to preserve her magic for something more important, something that couldn't be achieved in any other way.
After she lay on her silky sheets, she waited for a couple of minutes to let her body get used to the foreign temperature of the previously untouched fabric. Anticipation ran through her body and she couldn't be sure if she was trembling because of the cold or because of the thrill of feeling her son's warm hug again.
Or at least something that resembled her son's warm hug.
Because Henry wasn't there. He didn't even remember that she existed, and she had no way of reaching him. The only thing she had was a hoodie – identical to one of Henry's favorite clothes – she magically created one night when having only memories had become unbearable. She needed something to touch to feel him close to her again.
Regina used the remnants of magic she still had in her and filled the piece of clothing with air, making it look like a balloon in the shape of a boy's upper body. She dragged her hand across the hoodie, across what was supposed to be Henry's stomach, and she hugged it to her safely, keeping her eyes closed so that the illusion she had managed to form in her head wouldn't be ruined.
Now the hoodie lies deflated on the bed, half beneath her and half illuminated by the sun rays. Regina thinks that the situation resembles what has happened in reality: last night she crushed what was supposed to be Henry's body just like she has crushed her own son's life…
NO.
She will not let her mind wander into that direction again. Everything she did, she did it for Henry. She didn't destroy his life. On the contrary, she improved it by giving him and Emma new memories. They're living a normal life away from magic and fairytales, away from monsters and her. She made everything better for him and that's what's keeping her alive, the thought that she finally managed to give her son the life he always deserved.
With the thought that Henry is indeed okay, she pulls herself up. Her weary body aches, her bones complaining at the simple act of sitting up on her bed, and she wonders if she'll ever manage to get some decent rest in this godforsaken place.
She manages to drag herself out of bed and her eyes fall on the apple pies – a whole pie and another one missing a couple of pieces . Her late night kitchen activities started as a way to distract herself from the pain she felt, but she realized that the baked delicacy could also become some comfort food for Snow. Snow loved those apple pies when she was a little girl, and Regina knows that the princess needs that piece of normalcy now, something that will remind her of how simple her life was when she lived in this castle along with the King and her step-mother. Of course she will never admit that to Snow, she will never tell her that she understands how much her daughter's absence hurts and that she thinks the apple pie might ease her pain.
Regina puts on a dress, getting frustrated with it, still not used to the Evil Queen's wardrobe. But that's who she is in this place and she doesn't think she can change the way everyone sees her. She can't expect them to see her differently when that's how she sees herself.
Without Henry, every hope for her being someone better is gone and it will never come back. She has decided that she has to live with it and she follows the same routine every day. She makes herself look as royal as possible even if she makes sure that she doesn't meet anyone in the castle.
When her hairdo is done – her magic was very helpful with that when she lost her patience – she takes the pie that is still whole and quietly leaves the room.
Now that she feels completely awake she realizes that it's actually quite early in the morning. She must have slept for only a few hours once again. No wonder she hasn't stopped feeling exhausted ever since they arrived at the Enchanted Forest.
The fact that it's early has its advantages though. It means that everyone is either asleep or having breakfast at the dining room on the ground floor. It's not probable that she will meet someone in the corridors and that thought makes her walk more freely, less worried of being heard.
She reaches her destination, not too far from her bed chambers.
She has no intention of interacting with anyone, so she just places the pie on the floor in front of the Charmings' door and turns to leave.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Regina freezes at her spot, not having turned completely from the door. She would recognize the dwarf's voice anywhere.
She hasn't spoken to another person since her encounter with the outlaw the previous night and she finds it ironic that the first line spoken to her is similar to what he asked her when he first saw her.
It takes her a few seconds to make her facial characteristics appear neutral to prepare herself for the confrontation.
"That's none of your business, Chief of the Dwarves," Regina says, her voice dripping sarcasm.
"Of course it is. Snow's safety is always our business," another dwarf says. It's the one whose ridiculously happy smile Regina wishes she could wipe off his face. He takes a step forward to join Grumpy at the front of their group.
Regina scoffs. "And what are you? Her bodyguards?"
"We might not be fit to be Snow's bodyguards, but we're her protectors and we're going to do whatever it takes to prevent you from poisoning her again," another dwarf says and steps ahead, his words followed by a loud sneeze.
Regina's eyes widen in surprise, but she manages to cover it up quickly.
It hadn't occurred to her that after all they've been through during the last few weeks, people still think she is going to harm Snow. Of course the dwarves weren't with them when Regina was about to sacrifice herself for the safety of the town or in Neverland or during their private moments when Snow still tries to give endless hope speeches to her. Regina doesn't like the company of the younger woman, but she definitely doesn't want to poison her. Not anymore.
She doesn't know what shocks her the most: the realization that Snow is safe in her hands or the fact that even now, after many long days with all of them living under the same roof, after Regina has done nothing to raise such suspicions, the dwarves think she wants Snow's life to end.
After the moment of surprise, she goes back to glancing coldly at the dwarves and a deep laugh erupts from within her at her own stupidity. The dwarves' suspicions shouldn't have sounded that absurd to her. She reminds herself that those people will never stop believing that she's still the Evil Queen, even if she tries to convince them otherwise. She doesn't want them to think she is going to poison Snow though.
"I'm not going to do anything to Snow," she states. "Besides, this isn't the only apple pie I've made. More people must have eaten it by now. Don't you think the news would have already spread if someone had been poisoned?"
"Who tells us that you didn't shut the mouths of the ones who tasted your apple pie once and for all?"
Suddenly she's furious. She was used for her word to be taken seriously, for her orders to be followed right away in this castle, and now that she's back, it feels like she has lost any authority that once was rightfully hers.
She feels sparkles of magic traveling to the edge of each of her fingers and she needs a lot of her self-control to keep it inside.
"Fine," she spats. "Just so you know, your princess would not be satisfied with that!"
Regina isn't sure what she says is true, but she has to sound absolute to the dwarves.
With a wave of her hand, she disappears along with the pie. She appears in her bed chambers, the pie resting on her open palm. She looks at it with disdain, recognizing her fault in attempting to make a move to comfort Snow.
When she lived in this castle as a young Queen, Regina thought that she would never feel lonelier than she did when she spent entire days and nights without speaking to anyone. How wrong she had been… She got lonelier and lonelier as the time went by and this feeling is creeping up inside her now more than ever.
She lets out a scream and throws the pie across the room, the ceramic baking tray breaking into pieces and the delicacy spreading on the floor. Her skin is still itching with unused magic and she sets fire to all the pieces of the pie, burning the one she cut for the thief as well, the flames that erupt from within her resulting in a strangely comforting release.
Her head is spinning. She reaches into her chest instinctively, the physical pain nothing compared to the way her soul aches.
A bird flies though the window straight into the room, landing softly on the floor.
It's a dove.
And it's a reminder.
It's life.
Could it be hope?
Regina drags her hand away from her vital organ. A sole tear falls from her right eye at the realization that not taking her heart out feels right.
After all, ripping her heart out has become an activity for the night.
::::::
The castle's dining room is crowded during dinner time, a little too crowded for Robin's liking. Someone is missing though. It's the one person who is never there, at least not when everybody else is. Robin hasn't seen Regina for nearly two days, since the night he ran into her in the dark deserted corridor. Not that he met her often before, but this time something feels different, wrong.
He looks around the room, trying to spot the princess. Snow is sitting next to her husband. She's picking at her food, not paying attention to the conversations around her. She looks lost, the light having left her eyes, and Robin wonders if something has happened, something no one but her knows about.
He leaves Roland with his Merry Men and approaches Snow.
"Good morning," Robin greets her, getting a reply from David instead.
Snow looks at Robin absentmindedly and nods.
"Is something troubling you, m'lady?"
It's obvious that something is troubling her and the last thing Robin wants is to make the situation even worse by voicing his thoughts about the Queen.
"It's nothing important," Snow says.
Robin is not convinced. He's filled with curiosity and an urge to help – at least that's what he tells himself, because he's not ready to admit that for some unfathomable reason he's worried about Regina.
"Has something happened to Regina?" He can't stop himself from asking after a few more moments of silence.
Snow's breath hitches, her distress apparent to everyone around her. She clears her throat and tries to hide the sadness from her eyes.
"It's nothing, really. I thought I could give Regina some hope, a reason to fight. I thought I would be able to help her," Snow says. "But I was wrong. She can't be helped," she finishes in a determined tone.
"Are you certain? What about the apple pie?" Robin asks, trying to find an indication that Snow's assumption is invalid. The woman he saw the other night can't be a lost cause.
"What apple pie?" Snow asks, evidently confused.
Several people from the closest tables have turned their heads towards them.
One of the dwarves scoffs from across the table.
"He's talking about the apple pie the Evil Queen would have used to poison you with if it weren't for us," Grumpy says and the rest of the dwarves nod emphatically.
Snow looks at them incredulously.
"That can't be true, Grumpy," David says with a hint of doubt in his voice.
"That is certainly not true. She gave me some apple pie as well, which I shared with my son."
"Yes, the apple pie was tasty!" Roland says cheerfully, appearing next to his father as if out of nowhere.
Robin takes the little boy into his arms, swooping him off the ground and holding him on his hip.
"It was, my boy, wasn't it?"
Roland nods with a smile and hides his face into Robin's neck when he realizes that everyone is looking at him.
"And as everyone can see, neither my son nor I have been poisoned," Robin says, earning a look of disbelief from the dwarves and most of the people around them. "Snow, Regina made the pies two nights ago. Have you seen her since then?" he asks, this time internally accepting his concern for the Queen, since it seems to be rightfully reasonable.
"No. That's why I believed..." Snow leaves her thought unfinished, but it's not difficult for everyone to figure out what happened. "Why didn't you let her come to me?" She snaps at the dwarves, shooting an angry look in their direction.
"We only wanted to protect you, your Majesty," Grumpy says apologetically.
David places a hand on Snow's shoulder and that seems to do the trick. Snow relaxes, taking a few deep breaths.
"Of course you did, Grumpy. I'm sorry," she says, meaning every word. She squeezes David's hand and stands up. "I'm going to find Regina."
Her words are definitive and no one objects to them.
The crowd slowly scatters. The residents of the castle return to their seats and continue their breakfast.
"You gave Roland something she made. Something with apples. What's wrong with you, Robin?" Little John whispers to Robin once he and Roland are sitting at the Merry Men's table again.
"There is nothing wrong with me, like there was nothing wrong with the apple pie, Little John."
"Papa, I really liked the apple pie!" Roland says. It seems to Robin that this morning the little boy hears everything, despite the fact that his father doesn't want him involved in such situations.
Little John stares at Robin with disbelief and Robin avoids his friend's eyes.
"Papa, where did her Majesty find the apples?" Roland asks.
"She took them from her apple tree," Robin answers, his voice soft and quiet when talking to his son.
An inaudible "oh" forms on Roland's lips. Robin can't help but laugh at his reaction. Sometimes kids get excited with the simplest of things and coming from his son, that excitement is beyond adorable to him.
"What do you say we go check that tree out?" Robin asks. His idea is spontaneous and only after he's said it out loud does he realize what he has actually suggested.
"Yes!" Roland is already on his feet, even if he doesn't know where the tree is, and Robin stands up to follow him.
"Wait, Roland, you haven't finished your breakfast," Robin scolds him, but the boy is already at the door, so the man takes a few long steps to catch up to him, ignoring Little John's disapproving expression.
Roland has slowed down and he's walking beside Robin. Together they go up the stairs, towards a part of the castle Robin has never been before. He has no idea what made him bring Roland to that place. It might be to satisfy his own curiosity about the royal quarters. It might be his hope to meet the Queen again and make sure she is alright.
This floor has a different layout from the rest of the castle, but Robin can easily figure out where the exits for the balconies are. Holding Roland's hand in his own, he looks at one balcony and when he doesn't find anything, he moves to the next.
He enters a larger space, a balcony that looks like a yard of some sort. It's exactly how he has heard people describing it. He can almost hear their hushed words in between the corridors. An extravagant royal space where the Evil Queen keeps her apple tree, full of big red tempting apples. She sits under its shadow for hours, gazing at the sky, definitely plotting her next deathly move.
The apple tree is right there, in the middle of the yard.
"Papa, where are the apples?" Roland asks with a frown.
The apples are nowhere to be seen and neither is the Queen. Only green leaves remain to decorate the long tangled branches.