"She looks like Henry."
Snow cringes at the words. Cora - it's most certainly Cora - stands over an ornate white crib, staring at the doll-like child that resides in its hold. A man stands next to her, one Snow is almost quite sure she should know.
"What a shame. I had quite high hopes she would at least be attractive when she got older."
The two leave, shutting the door forcefully behind them. A small and timid wail erupts from the baby and Snow gently creeps closer to it. What she sees when she finally reaches its edges is the furthest thing from unattractive. The baby's face is soft and round, the skin the color of cream. Full pink lips create a cupid's bow of a mouth. A head full of dark hair, fine and softly curling at the ends. The queen has been beautiful since birth it would seem.
She reaches to stroke the soft, supple skin when a cloud of crimson smoke startles her. Snow scampers back to her original hiding place. They may only be memories, but she's not going to take any chances with the Dark One. She watches as Rumplestiltskin silently stalks over to the crib, a cruel smile appearing on his lips as he sees the wooden structures contents.
"Lonely little beastie, aren't you?"
Snow watches with trepidation as the imp of a man picks up the little bundle that will become the Evil Queen. But the baby doesn't make a sound, content to just be held. She wonders if Cora has ever held Regina, if she's ever cuddled her against her when she cries. Probably not.
The last thing she sees is Rumple place the infant back in its white prison and say words that may haunt Snow for the rest of her life -
"Lonely you are, and lonely you shall always be."
o0o
"Oh, you stupid creature! Look what you've done!"
Cora always made Snow cringe, but hearing words like that make her cringe harder - especially at the fact that they're aimed at a toddler with dark ringlets and sticky fingers.
It's clear little Regina has gotten into something or other, and being a child, not thinking what would happen to her mother's white dress should those sticky appendages come into contact with it. Now the little fingers are twisting each other nervously, and a pouty bottom lip trembles in fear.
"I'm sorry, Mommy, I just-"
Snow screams when a hand collides with the innocent child's cheek. Of course, no one hears her, it's a memory. But someone must have heard the sharp cry come from the little girl, for only moments later, a well-dressed man enters the chamber, a concerned look on his face.
"My dear, is everything alright?"
It must be Henry, Snow surmises. Regina's father. She remembers him as a kind man, a man faithful and loyal to his daughter, whatever her pursuit. She'd spend a little time with him here and there when she had been a child.
Snow was drawn from her recallings back to the memory when Cora snatches up the white gown and tosses it the unlit fireplace. She lights a fire in her hand before hurling it at the white fabric, watching it burn with a deep scowl on her face.
"Everything is fine," the woman snaps. She motions for someone to enter the chamber, and a servant girl steps over the threshold. "Take her to her room and lock the door when you leave."
Henry steps forward, his hand reaching towards his wife's shoulder. "Cora-"
"Get out, Henry."
Snow is appalled when he says nothing more and leaves. Had he not seen the red, hand-shaped welt on his daughter's face? Had he not seen her pleading look as he turned his back and exited the room?
Apparently not, for the maid scoops up the young girl and whisks her out of her mother's chambers. Snow follows with a heavy heart, tears coming in twos and threes as she watches Regina's little face begin to bruise. But the amount of tears she sheds now are nothing to the amount she when Snow lays eyes on what constitutes as Regina's room.
A large bed and a single straight-backed chair are the sole occupants of the chamber. The child is placed roughly in the chair and left, the sound of the lock clicking into place echoing in the nearly empty room.
Tears come in torrents as she watches the little child climb up onto the large bed and huddle down on top of its covers. Tears flow like waterfalls as Snow listens to the lonely girl sing herself to sleep.