This is a little different from the other entries I put here - but it wasn't planned, it's a bonus. Hope you'll like it! Oh, it's long. Happy 100th, OUAT!
A glimpse of Storybrooke, twenty-five years later. A three-days journey froma special perspective.
I have a strange relationship with my name. I used to like it, when I was a little girl, in my parents' household. The maids would come at me, to braid my raven hair, and they would say Regina is a very pretty name, darling, do you know what does it mean? And I would smile and say that yes, of course, it means queen, oh so very proud to bear such a powerful name.
Later, I understood the consequences of my name – in the very same moment Daniel was dead in my arms, and my mother was wiping away my tears, and telling me that I was going to be queen.
Queen.
Destiny has always had a soft spot for me. My name was my ruin, my name was my future and tied me to Cora, my name was written in the stars.
Destiny, faith.
Free will.
I used to hate my name, when my name was becoming me, and I had become my name, the queen, Regina. Regina, would whisper my husband, Regina, would happily say Snow. Queen Regina, the maids. It's a repetition, I wanted to scream. It's like saying Queen Queen, you stupid people. I am more than my name.
I had my husband killed, and the name wasn't important anymore. Your Majesty, I was, the Evil Queen, and only Snow dared to call me Regina.
Then, Henry.
When Henry arrived, I was Regina Mills, but then, I was Mommy, and Mom. And then, for some months, only Regina again, and how much I hated my name then, because Mom was Emma, not me, never more me.
And when he called me Mom again, it was a complex period, and my mother was back, then she was dead, and I was her Regina again, and not anymore. And when he called me Mom again, it was to say goodbye, and it was a year away from him, a year of pain, of apples, dimples, witches and grief.
I was Gina for Roland. Much better. I was Milady for the thief, because I couldn't bear to hear my name, because my name, after Daniel, had only meant pain.
I was home again, to Henry. Mom again, and it was the best Mom of my life. When he remembered. I was Regina to Robin, and Regina to Snow and Emma, and suddenly it wasn't unbearable.
I was Sis, to Zelena.
One day, I was Mom to Roland. One day, I was Mom to Hazel. And Mama Regina, then, was the unmistakable way of my children to call me, to distinguish me from the other mothers – Emma, Marian, Zelena.
And it was Regina to Robin, and how much I loved my name then, when he whispered it, at night, against my skin, after the love, spent, tired, smiling like idiots.
Still, my name is like my dark heart. Traces of red – Henry, Roland, Hazel, Robin, Snow, Emma – traces of black, dark memories, dark times.
And now my daughter is here, with a round belly, holding a book full of names, red and curly locks framing her face, and she has never looked more beautiful.
"But why not?" she asks, and I smile, and tell her that absolutely not, Hazel, you won't name your child Regina, end of the question. She makes a pouty face, and flashes of when she was five appear in my mind – flashes, it's been like this for the past few months, from that evening when she has told us about the baby.
We were at Emma's, celebrating – one year from Hazel's wedding with Neal junior, and she has stood up, taking his hand, he has enveloped her waist, and they were smiling at each other, I remember clearly that I was on the sofa, holding a glass of apple juice, and my daughter was saying We have wonderful news, another smile, I'm pregnant, and I think I've dropped the glass all over Emma's carpet, to hug Hazel tight and then Neal, and Snow was almost exploding of joy, and I know little Michael has said Grandma Gina has dropped the juice, and his father has answered You know, son, if I had done that when I was a kid, she would have roasted me – but I'm rambling.
Hazel is here, and she is huge, but like very huge, and I've never explained her why I don't like my name, but she has that cocky smile that is totally Robin's, and she's grinning at me, and where on hell has gone that little peanut who wanted pancakes and to watch Disney movies and to ride her horse with Mommy?
She puts her hand on the arm of the chair and gets up, and winks and says Sure, Mom, as you want, and she puts down the book, heading to the kitchen, and I think, I was the Evil Queen, since when I'm gone soft in this way? But they're my children, and my grandchildren, and even the queen must rest after so many years on the first line.
I'm growing old, Robin says I'm still beautiful as the first time we met, and I usually roll my eyes and tell him Which one, thief, and he laughs and drops a kiss on my forehead and says All three, my love. I'm older, my fire is gentler, my heart is slower, our caresses are like travelling on well-known paths. I have a simpler life, but still, my family tree resembles to a tentacular eight-eyed beast more than to a tree, and I get a headache every time I think about it.
When Hazel was four, Robin asked me, and I said yes, and suddenly I was my daughter's mom, step-mother and aunt, I was Henry's mom and great-grandmother, I was Roland's mom and step-mother, I am so many things, for so many people.
After Hazel was born, we went to Wonderland to rescue Anastasia from the wrath of an evil sorcerer – Jafar, because Robin wanted to help Will, his friend, so we went there all together, me and Emma and Killian and Robin, leaving the children with Snow – again, leaving my children, but it was worth it, because Anastasia was there, tired beyond limits, but with a blonde two-year-old little girl who had never met her daddy. The White Queen and the White Princess came to Storybrooke with us, and now I'm proud to call Alice my daughter-in-law, because well, Roland is in fact my little knight, and when they told us about them, he said Mom, you won't be jealous I have a princess to protect now, won't you? And I smiled, and years later I took a new-born Michael in my arms, sitting next to my husband and Anastasia.
I found a caring and tender friend in Anastasia – the one who can understand my burden, the one who was a lonely, hurt and evil queen, the one who redeemed herself and above all, the one whose love story was destroyed by my mother – it happened to both of us. Speaking of Cora with Ana is healing, is quiet afternoons above a cup of tea, is telling each other tales of forgiveness, dark hearts and new titles, from Red to White, from Evil to Savior-ish. Is thanking all the Gods we had a second chance with Will and Robin and our children. Alice was a gift, she tells me – born in midst of pain and hope, named after the woman who helped her find grace.
Grace.
Grace is my second daughter-in-law, and I have to live with what I did to her and her father every day, and Emma and I have to share Henry's heart with her, but she's wonderful, she's a blossom of beauty and happiness, she's the mother of my first grandson. Henry was grinning like a mad-man when he placed the little one in my arms, and he said Mom, I hope you still remember how to hold them, and I was in complete awe, Grace looking at us from her bed, her chestnut-blonde hair splayed all over the pillow, and Henry whispers to me Don't tell anyone, it's a secret, and I look at him, and he goes on, Mom, we named him Daniel, and I smile and cry at the same time, because my little prince manages to make me happy with one well-placed word.
And now Hazel is expecting, and every day I wake up next to Robin, and I think about this miracle, this child who used to ride her horse in summer, her ginger hair swinging in the wind, like a wild Amazon, a fabulous witch, who's now carrying this baby, this baby I have yet to meet.
She re-enters the room bringing me some tea, and she picks up the book again, in her endless quest for her child's name.
"You know, you can always ask Snow," I suggest, and the gods forbid that I let my step-daughter into this, and my daughter knows me too well, because she shakes her head, "No, I have to find the right name. When I'll hear it, I'll just know".
"And what does your husband think?" I inquire, sipping the tea – she must have added some herbs, because there's no way this is a simple tea – and she lifts her head, bright blue eyes staring in my soul, she has her chin resting on a closed fist, "We made a deal," she says, and these words are so simple in her universe and so powerful in mine, and Rumple's face flashes in my mind before I can stop it, "I choose the name for a girl, and Neal chooses for a boy" she smiles, and yes, we don't know the sex yet, even if Robin and Snow were quite adamant, but Hazel is a Mills woman and she's stubborn like me, like her mother and like her grandmother.
"Sounds fair," I agree. But she's thinking out loud again, because she stares at me, and she bites her lower lip, and I know she has a question. "What?" I ask, and she waits a few seconds, then closes the book, sets it aside.
"I have never asked," she begins, and the solemnity of her tone makes me almost shiver. I wait for the question, which has to be a huge deal, I drink some more, to keep me occupied. "Why didn't you and dad have other children?" she bursts out, and I am locked to her blue eyes, I blink, and a hundred of images and voices raise up in my head all together – an amber potion, my mother, a fake tattoo, Zelena, Whale, Robin clenching his fists – and I gulp down the tea, and I have to answer her, I have to.
"It's a long story," I warn her, and she nods imperceptibly, and I take a breath, leaning on the chair. She does not interrupt me, not once, I start from the tattoo, the story she knows since she was maybe three, the story she has asked her father to tell her countless times.
Now she knows of Cora's trick, of the sheriff and of my self-loathing, and of the children that were never born, of when we were in Camelot and I told Robin the tale, and he offered to go and fetch some water from the Lake of Nostos, but then we were freeing Merlin and Killian was the Dark One and Emma brought us all home – and no water, and I don't even know if it would have worked, because my womb was already too poisoned to fix. And then you were born, I tell her, and she looks at me almost shyly, these endless questions, all her life, finding her place, knowing she was created out of spite, but I've told her, No, you were created out of your father's love, and I've loved you since I entered in that room, twenty- five years ago, to find my soulmate holding you and my sister with a face… almost gentle, for an instant. Then you were born, and we were heading for the Underworld, and for Wonderland, and some years later for Arendelle, to visit Elsa and Anna. We had three children, a family, then Emma was pregnant, you were always with one of your aunts or Merry uncles, and Liam was born – twenty years ago… and we were content this way, Hazel, we were happy. We are happy. I have three children, three grandchildren, an annoying stepdaughter, another Mom for my eldest son, I have my husband and this town, I have a home, and I wouldn't have had it in any other way, I tell her, and she's crying a bit, and she sniffs and tells me The hormones, and I chuckle, Sure that.
She's serene, my Hazel. She's in love, she's in peace with herself. She's early mornings at Granny's with Mal and Lily, she's late evenings on the sofa, all cuddled up with Neal, when I must hold back from staring at them in awe, and I catch Snow diverting her gaze too. She's afternoon teas with Ana and Alice, with Grace, while all the boys are out, firing arrows, and Robin calls me and tells me Come on, love, I know you are able to shoot an arrow, I saw you when we were in Isaac's book, and Michael and Daniel look at me with pleading eyes and I get up, all my women following. I smack Robin on his forearm, I take the bow and shoot an arrow, thanks to my false memories, and my grandchildren jump in excitement, and I make a curtsy and say That's all, guys, the bandit has spoken.
Hazel is wilderness, peace, fire, wind. She's a Mills to the core, she's a Locksley in the soul. She was quite the precious little girl, always up to something, she was a stubborn teenager – one night she forces Mulan to tattoo her a feather and an arrow on her neck, and she comes home and tells me Do you like it? and Robin has to hold me back to kill her right there on the spot, and I think he still bears the signs of a burning from that evening.
She has been a proper nerd – books, movies, days with Aunt Belle, reading, searching, days with Mal, days spent reading my old books about magic, in the vault, days spent making potions, learning. Alice has magic too, like her mother, and Ana has joined me, Emma and Mal in our teaching magic to the children. The Storybrooke School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Roland calls us, and we are quite the team, and I can't wait to see if this new child is a girl, if she has magic, how strange is it, we are all women.
Hazel's leaning on her chair, eyes closed, when her father enters, and he is right behind me, hands on my shoulders, releasing the knot he knows is there, and I lean my head on his stomach, I close my eyes too, and I smile. Lately, I find myself in a permanent state of grace, I incredulously walk across my life and my surroundings, I say thank you to all the heavens, thank you, because I still don't think I deserved a second chance, and now I'm happier than I've ever been.
Robin squeezes my forearm one last time and goes to sit next to us, he surrounds my shoulders with an arm, I place my head on the crook of his neck, I close my eyes again, and he's talking to Hazel, something like We've almost finished with the boxes, how is my grandson doing. Yes, Hazel is living with Neal since almost two years, but she waited until now for the last things – the queen of procrastination. And yes, Robin thinks it's a boy, and David too, and also Killian, Henry and Roland, and Michael and Daniel can't wait for their cousin to be born so they'll become The Three Musketeers. But all of the women have bet with their husbands, it's a girl. Snow even told me about some sort of necklace that David's mother gave her, one that can predict the sex of a baby, even before its creation, but we have agreed not to use it, because well, I know my step-daughter has a tiny problem with secrets, and she wouldn't be able to hold a poker face for months.
I just listen while they talk, I think I could doze off easily, but I hear my name and I blink a few times, turning my head, "Were you sleeping?" he says to me, grinning, and I lift my head and roll my eyes and tell him No, I was resting my eyes, because I roll them too much, and he laughs and squeezes me against his chest, and I'll never get used to this. Hazel is getting up, and we follow her, because she has yet to pack some things from her room, and I have a strange feeling – I start to look at my house differently, because she's leaving, my daughter is leaving for good and soon we'll be left here as an old couple, and it could seem an empty life, but this house will always be full of people, of children running around, and merry men and witches. I look at the walls, we are going upstairs, Robin has a hand placed on my back and the walls are full of frames, photos, drawings.
I know by heart all these pictures – I see them every day, but I'm paying attention now.
Henry and Grace's wedding, when Roland had his leg broken and his thumbs up. My birthday, when we released up in the sky a hundred or so of orange flying lanterns. Hazel's graduation day. Robin, Killian, David and the other boys on the Jolly Roger. A drawing of a purple elephant by Daniel. Emma, Rumple and Henry with little Rose, Rumple and Belle's daughter. Mal with Hazel and Alice, when they were learning magic, they were still little girls, Mal in the middle, a wide smile on her lips, she has always loved them as if they are her real nieces. Michael and Daniel at the stables, straddling two ponies, with me in the middle. Robin, when he taught Ana how to use a bow. That Halloween when Hazel stole one of my old-and-evil dresses from the vault and showed up at Granny's, and Leroy was seriously not amused, because For heaven's sake, sister, you could have given me a heart attack, and she was laughing, leaning on the counter, and he had his hand on his chest, breathing heavily. There's a picture of Henry with Liam, when he was teaching him how to drive and they destroyed three mail boxes. That time David made us a surprise and we had the first Archery Tournament, and I've beaten Snow – two inches, but my arrow was closer to the smallest circle of the target. And in the middle, the bigger picture is of my wedding day - the moment of our vows, and we are so happy, almost radiant.
Page twenty-three is not here – we hang it in our bedroom, and I smile every time I pass by it, and I know that so does Robin.
We are in her room already – a few boxes on her bed, books on the night table, some papers and notebooks, her guitar. I go and sit on her rocking chair – how many nights I've spent here with her in my arms, whispering long-forgotten songs, she was a fussy child – how many times I've found her here, refusing to put down the book, because Auntie Belle says a good book keeps you up all night, and I would answer Auntie Belle has not the Evil Queen as mother, young lady – I'm rambling again, what's happening to me?
Robin is standing up, he holds a paper in his hand, a bittersweet smile on his lips, and he turns towards me, I just raise an eyebrow and he hands me the paper – it's a drawing, there's Hazel written on a corner, a date – it's my handwriting, she was three, it's her, with a huge black scribble next to her tiny figure. "I guess it was when Mal showed her the dragon," I smile, and Robin nods, I can just feel the sad grip on his heart, because I feel it too, I share his pain, and probably, I've always had. I squeeze his hand, there's no need for words – there wasn't, since many years, a look it's enough for us.
Hazel comes next to us, and she's smiling, You're not getting emotional, are you, she grins, and I tell her Absolutely not, but it's a lie, Hazel, you were three and I was younger, and now you're twenty-five and you're a woman, and I'm old, Hazel. I'm old and yes, everything, these days, gets me emotional, because your child is about to see the light, and I can't wait.
And she has put everything in a box – the walls are clear, empty, the room is different. She's placed her hand above her belly, above the baby, and she's looking at me, sometimes I'm scared by her connection with me, by the wisdom in her eyes. "I should probably go," she says, and I nod, I smile to hold back the tears, and Robin – oh, he knows me – he kisses me on the temple, and he takes the box, following her, and I linger there a few seconds, on the doorframe, I look at this room again and I turn, I follow them too.
We stay on the porch after Hazel has gone, and he's circling my waist, I have my head on his chest, I'm suddenly exhausted. The air is chill, and the melancholy is strong, and we just go inside and sit on the sofa, just holding on to each other, and I'm happy. We should probably eat something, but he kisses me, slowly, and I surround his neck with my arms, and he's undressing me, and we make love there, maybe more gently than when we were young. It's slow, almost a ritual… he knows me, I am his, as he is mine. The fire cracks next to us, the light is low, and this is blissful. "You're always the most beautiful woman in the room," he whispers, and I just kiss his neck, how much I love him, how thankful I am.
I'm woken up by lazy kisses, and I smile even before opening my eyes. "Did we fall asleep here?" I murmur against his lips, and he has a hand between my hair, he pecks another kiss. "We did," he confirms. Sunshine filters from the windows, it has to be ten in the morning, more or less. I'm entangled to him, and there's a blanket splayed on our naked bodies – and my back hurts a bit, but I place my chin on his chest and I stare at his eyes. He's smiling – when he smiles like that, my world spins and I'm breathless. We stay like this, just looking at each other, his hand has stopped on my back.
I feel a noise – a buzz, and I shift a little. There's my phone on the ground, sounds muffled by the soft carpet, and I extend the arm to take it. Snow, it says, and I lift it, bringing it to my ear, I place my head on his chest again, I close my eyes. "Yes, dear?" I say lazily, and I listen to her.
"Regina, you have to come here – now," she pants, and Robin is placing kisses on my hair. "What happened?" I ask, gently, for once, I can't bring myself to scold her or get angry, we are so peaceful, here under this blanket.
"The baby's coming, we're at the hospital," she says, and I hold my breath, start to get up, Robin is asking, What's wrong, but I just try to wrap the blanket around my body, I tell Snow "Five minutes," and I toss the phone on the coffee table, offer a hand to my husband, "Your daughter is about to give birth," I tell him, and he smiles, gets up, and we are retrieving clothes around like teenagers.
I just grab the silk shirt from the armchair, the skirt, I slip into my heels, he's putting his trousers on, a shirt, and I lace my hand to his and wave the other hand and purple smoke surrounds us, we're in the hall of the hospital.
I didn't even bother to brush my hair, and we walk – almost run – towards the nursery.
Snow is outside, arms crossed, and we slow down. She says, looking at me, "You know, I'm getting a sense of déjà-vu, Regina," and I laugh, and she adds, "Be sure you button your shirt, first," and my mind flashes back to that morning when Emma was missing and Henry was hurt and I entered the loft after my first night with Robin… I look at him, he looks back with a puzzled face, "I'll explain later," I smile, and Snow moves aside to let us in.
Hazel is lying on the bed, and oh, the first impact is painful.
It's the same room.
It's the very same room where Zelena gave birth to her, and I hadn't noticed it before because we passed through the other door. It hasn't changed one bit, and after all these years, fate still likes to play with me, or it could be only Whale's perverted sense of humor.
There's a redhead on the bed, she's about to give birth, but this time it's my daughter and I love her to bits, and Robin's hand is laced to mine, and I know, I just know he's thinking the exactly same things.
This time is different. This time I haven't conflicted emotions – I'm not torn between being angry with my sister, and hurt, and also happy because I have a new niece, and because the man I love has a daughter – this time I walk towards her bed, she's smiling, she's muttering About time you two showed up, but her face turns into a grimace and she is biting her lip.
"How are you doing?" I ask her, and she takes my hand and squeezes, and I can feel the pain radiate from her body to mine, What a stupid question, Mom, she says, and Neal enters the room and approaches his wife – I've seen that look before, it was on David's face when both of his children were born – and I was there both times, the first looking at them from a mirror, I wanted to kill baby Emma, the second trying to protect the hospital, and I wanted to save baby Neal.
Neal is next to her, I know he's worried, it's too soon for this baby – but only two weeks earlier, it's not too bad. Robin has placed a hand on my back, it grounds me, as we watch our Hazel, and then Whale enters.
"Look at who the cat dragged in," he says, and I don't throw him a fireball, because my daughter needs him, I'll just keep holding Hazel's hand.
Whale puts his gloves on, "Okay guys, let's bring this little one out," he says, with his usual tact, and I see Robin glance at Snow, she nods, We should probably wait outside, he says, and I squeeze Hazel's hand one last time, leaving it, I look at her, and she slams her eyes open.
"Mom, where are you going?"
Robin and Snow are almost at the door, but they stop and turn towards us.
"Outside," I answer, and why is she looking at me like this?
"Why on hell are you going outside?" she spits out, Neal's hand is becoming white.
I bit my lip, I hesitate. "I've never done this, Hazel," I murmur, suddenly aware of all the eyes on me. "I couldn't help you," I continue, and how can I explain this to her? How can I make her see?
She stares at me, then turns towards her husband. "Could you give us a second?" she asks, and he nods, I can see they exchange a short but meaningful look. He joins his mother, and they exit, Robin lingers on the door for a second and I nod at him, I spell Go on my lips, and it's only the two of them – Whale has gone as well.
I face my daughter, and she's smiling.
"What's wrong?" she asks, and how much I wish I could tell her how I feel – but even I don't know how to explain it, it wasn't like this for my other grandchildren. When Daniel was born, there was Grace's adoptive mother with her, and Henry was there, and Jefferson was pacing outside like a lion. When Michael was born, Anastasia was holding Alice's hand – she's tough, Anastasia. She gave birth to Alice in a cell, alone, and waited two years for Will. Her daughter was in good hands.
I've never done this.
How can I explain Hazel that it pains me to see her suffer, to be helpless?
I smile back, and I bring a wild lock of her hair behind her ear. "I don't think I'm the best help for such a task, sweetie," I tell her, "maybe you should ask Snow or Emma"
"Mom" she interrupts, and grabs my hand, her blue eyes won't leave me, "there's no one else I would want with me now," and she is calm, she's like an ancient goddess, poised, she has all the power of nature in her eyes, two pools of sea. My eyes are glassy now, I sniff slightly, a tear escapes and I smile.
"Okay," I whisper, and I squeeze her hand, "I'll stay"
She smiles back, "Thank you," and she knows, she knows it all, she's relaxing back on the bed, another stab of pain runs through her body, she tenses. "I'll call Neal and Whale" I say, and there's no need, Neal couldn't wait anymore. "Everything alright?" he asks, and Hazel nods, eyes closed, and Whale is approaching, and – she screams, my baby girl, oh if she screams.
I hold her hand, until I can't feel mine anymore, but I don't leave it.
We're almost there, says Whale, and she pushes, she squeezes Neal's fingers, at some point I think she burns him and I pass my hand above his, and he's healed. "You're doing great," I tell her, and she's beautiful, with her curly hair and sweaty forehead, tears rolling down, there was no time for painkillers.
"It's time," says the Doctor, and my memory flies to that evening, his voice is the same, when I tried to bring Daniel back from the death, I failed, there was a thunderstorm… I focus on the present, because she's pushing now, for real, and the head is out, and I glance at my grandson – granddaughter? – then at Hazel, she keeps her eyes closed, Whale is muttering random words, Another one, Great, and half of the body is out, and she gives the ultimate effort and – the lights are cracking, bright sparkles spray out of the lamps – and screams are filling the room, the baby is born.
Whale beams, "It's a girl," he tells her, and I smile, she's smiling too, Neal is about to pass out, Hazel opens her eyes and tells him, I won the bet, dear, and he laughs and kisses her head, and she's crying now, looking at me. "I'm proud of you," I tell her, and she whispers Thanks, Mom, and she has her baby between her arms now.
She's perfect.
A tiny, little, pink wonder, she's perfect.
My first granddaughter.
I watch them, the three of them, and they are so beautiful.
I slowly walk back from the bed, approach to the door, I pass my hands on the rusty green fabric of the hospital gown they forced me to wear. When I exit the door, Snow immediately lifts up her eyes, and I just smile, there's no need for words, they are all approaching – my family, they're all here. Robin joins me, he kisses my temple, and I look at him, he smiles, and I bring him to meet his granddaughter.
We are all gathered around the bed – the children are unusually quiet, and Snow is watching the new born and crying, David is surrounding her waist, he squeezes Neal's shoulder. Emma winks at me, a proud smile, and Henry tells me, Well done, coach, and I look back at him – my little prince – and then we turn, because my daughter is talking.
"Royal family" starts Hazel with a raspy voice, and she laughs, "we won't give you the name yet," and she's leaning on Neal, "but meet our little one, you all"
Michael and Daniel are tiptoeing to see her, and their fathers lift them. "She's cute" observes Michael, and Alice nods, "I guess the Third Musketeer will be a sword-woman, guys," she announces, and they are smiling, and I just stay there, I watch my family, Robin's arms around me, I watch my daughter and the new-born Mills woman, and I can't believe it.
The following hours are a blur – Robin brings me home, and he cooks me something to eat, he puts me to bed – I'm exhausted, I fall asleep in minutes, I don't even feel him getting under the blankets.
I wake up with the sun, the bed is empty. He's at the window, the same window from where I watched Storybrooke for the first time, after casting the curse. I get up slowly, I embrace him from behind, and he silently shifts me, to bring me to his side, an arm behind my shoulders, we watch the dawn, quietly – words are not spoken.
Hazel texts me during breakfast – this evening we'll go at Granny's to honor that royal name tradition, Snow has insisted. She's already at home, she says, she's doing great, we'll see her later.
I stay with Robin today. We are in our peaceful bubble, we are alone. We bath together, we eat, we watch a sappy movie, we kiss. We look at some old photos. We make love. We stay on the bed, I read for him some pages and he listens, eyes closed. We make some tea. We dance in the hall, an old, slow song, we just swing on place.
And darling I will, be loving you 'til, we're seventy
And baby my heart ,could still fall as hard, at twenty-three
And I'm thinking 'bout how
People fall in love in mysterious ways
Maybe just the touch of a hand
Well, me I fall in love with you, every single day
And I just wanna tell you I am
So honey now
Take me into your loving arms
Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars
Place your head on my beating heart
I'm thinking out loud
Maybe we found love, right where we are
When my hair's all but gone and my memory fades
And the crowds don't remember my name
When my hands don't play the strings the same way
I know you will still love me the same
Cause honey your soul
Could never grow old,
It's evergreen
And baby your smile's
forever in my mind
and memory
I'm thinking 'bout how
people fall in love in mysterious ways
Maybe it's all part of a plan
At eight, we dress up, and I'm sitting at the vanity, the silk black robe wrapped around my body, I'm applying red lipstick, carefully. He kisses my head, and I smile, he's ready to go, I have yet to put my dress on.
"You're beautiful," he tells me, and I get up, I scold him playfully, Don't lie to an old woman, and he laughs, shaking his head. He goes downstairs, to retrieve the gift we have in the closet for the baby, and I finish with my hair, curly and shoulder-length, two pins at the sides. The blue dress still fits, and I'm ready when Robin returns, holding a flower, and I tilt my head, he hands it to me. "A blue iris," I smile, taking it, "why such a gesture?", he gets closer and shrugs, "For the most beautiful grandma in all the realms," he whispers, and I laugh, "Well thank you, much appreciated, love," and he takes the gift, I take his hand, call my magic, and we appear outside of Granny's.
I push the door, and suddenly I feel a little body pressed on my legs – "Grandma Gina!" – and I look down to see Michael, and I laugh, I give the blue iris to my husband and I scoop him in my arms, and he beams happily. "Hi, grandpa," he tells Robin, "we are doing the corn… the cron… the cro'nation," he informs us, and I tap his nose, "The coronation, young man," and he nods, we walk towards the middle of the room.
Ruby has outdone herself, the place is spectacular – yellow balloons in groups of three are fluctuating on the ceiling, she hang up the old banner saying Congratulations, and there are vases of yellow daisies on each table. The place is nearly full – and they don't fail to make us notice that, and I just laugh to Leroy when he says Obviously the queen is late as always, and Robin places a hand on my back, Michael still clinging to my neck. We walk towards Hazel, she's like an empress on her chair, my granddaughter in her arms, surrounded by my family. Henry comes to greet me, he tickles Michael, the boy protests, Stop it, Uncle Henry, and he kicks to be put down, he runs towards Daniel.
I turn towards my daughter, "How are you, sweetie?" I ask her, putting a hand on her forehead, as I used to do when she was a child, and she's nodding, Fine, Mom, stop worrying, she says, because this girl reads my soul. She's gently tickling the baby's belly – I used to do that with her, and before her, with Henry, I think I could cry any moment now. She winks at her father, I turn towards him and I kiss his cheek, taking back my flower. Hazel speaks to Neal, I think it's time, don't you? and he nods, he gets up.
He asks for attention, and everyone is now silent, even the children – an unusual peace and quietness for this place. "This is an important, wonderful day for my family," he starts, "and we are here to share our joy with all of you. But first of all, to share with you our daughter's name," he winks at his mother, "because it seems to be a tradition, even if Daniel wanted to lift her up like in the Lion King," he chuckles, and everyone laughs, Daniel is crossing his arms, lifting his eyebrow, and looking at his uncle as if he doesn't see anything wrong with his idea.
"I think my wife wants to say something," Neal continues, and Hazel nods, she carefully transfers her daughter in his arms, she turns towards us.
"Hello, everyone," she starts, and I just drink in her figure, red hair gently adjusted in a braid, rolled up on a side of her head, chin lifted, blue eyes full of joy. "First of all, thank you for coming," she smiles, then pauses, glances at me and her father, goes on. "I've thought a lot about this moment, and its meaning for my family. Our new-born daughter," she says, looking fondly at the baby, "has quite the legacy, in her blood. She has the Savior as her aunt," she winks at Emma, who's sitting next to her husband, a hand over Liam's shoulders. "The truest believer, as well as the Author, as her cousin," and Henry lets out a heartfelt laugh. "The shepherd turned prince as her grandpa, and the warrior princess as her grandma," and I glance at Snow's adoring look, David is laughing next to her.
Hazel's look shifts on her father. "She has the blood of the thieves," she smiles, and I feel Robin chuckle against my skin, he's encircling my waist from behind. "And she's a Mills woman like both of my mothers," she ends gravely, looking at me, there's no doubt in her words, and I nod.
She stares at me for a moment, and she resumes. "I'm sure that… I'm not the only one who sees the beauty of this moment. This… child… carries an extraordinary history in her veins. A tale of witches, of hearts, of curses, of saviors… of darkness and light, of blood feuds which lasted for years," and I look at Snow, she's already meeting my eyes, comprehension and forgiveness fly between the two of us, and I feel Robin's held, I send a thought to my sister.
"But the wars have ended a long time ago. Which is why I chose this name," Hazel says, "given that she's a girl, and I won the bet," and Neal smiles at her.
"So, people of Storybrooke," she says solemnly, "meet our daughter, Irene. Her name means peace," she announces, and I'm crying, Snow is too, crying and smiling. Hazel looks at us, then she adds, "and I couldn't have brought her to the world if it wasn't for my mother," she says, pride in her eyes, and locks her eyes with mine, "so her second name is Maeve, meaning queen," and I disentangle myself from Robin's arms to hug my daughter, and then Snow is joining us too, and we just stay like that, and Daniel is asking to Henry, Why is everyone crying, and I laugh against Hazel's neck.
"I love you, baby," I tell her, and her eyes are shining, "Wanna hold your granddaughter, Grandma?" she asks, and I smile at Snow, I lay the iris on the table and Hazel places Irene in my arms.
"Hello there, little one," I'm smiling, I feel Robin's arms around me again, "your mom is a wonderful woman, you know that? And you're so beautiful," I'm beaming, mumbling silly words, and I hear Liam say to Emma, "Aaaaand Regina's gone," and I just laugh, I hold this treasure, this gift, the girl who has my blood, and Snow's, and Zelena's. The little girl who brings peace.
"She'll be a heartbreaker," whispers Robin, and I nod, "In the good sense of the term," I tell him.
If someone had told me, years ago, that one day I would have been sharing a granddaughter with Snow White, I would have just laughed and probably thrown them in the dungeon. But now here I am, with Irene in my arms, my husband next to me, and my daughter, my wonderful, beautiful daughter, is smiling at me, and I start to believe, this is true, we are in a peaceful place, all is well.