It seemed fitting to Regina that the one child that she was actually biologically related to would look nothing like her. It had been years since Roland began to call her "momma", with a tentative look at his father, who nodded with approval. The few times they ventured outside of Storybrooke people assumed she was his biological mother all-too-easily. Roland looked a great deal like her, purely by coincidence. Henry at least had a similar complexion, dark eyes and hair, with light skin.
But Eliza was the one child who took after her papa. She had her father's complexion, her father's blue eyes, and her hair….was mostly blonde, with beautiful hints of red in it. Regina was always telling her, though, she had "Mills" hair, and it reminded Regina of her hair not in color but in its texture. She was blessed with strong, thick locks, hair that framed her face perfectly, hair that required careful braiding when she was a child, for the hair was so thick it easily became knotted and tangled up in anything, and hiking trips with daddy already had her coming back with sticks and leaves and dirt in her hair, even with the braids Regina insisted on giving her. Without them, her hair would wind up a tangled mess in whatever tree sap or mud she'd somehow lather herself in during her time in the forest, and Regina would spend much of the night gently detangling her hair, occasionally needing olive oil to rub in her hair to remove some of the items that would stick to her daughter's beautiful hair.
She was getting older, now, and it had been a few years since Regina needed to remove half the forest from her hair. She was more careful now, and less likely to get dirty. She was becoming a teenager.
Eliza had asked her mom to come home early from work today, begging her and telling her it was important, without explanation. She was sniffling, and sounded scared. With everything that went on in Storybrooke, Regina had no idea what to expect, so she hurriedly poofed herself home, finding Eliza sitting at the kitchen table, hands on either side of her forehead, tears in her eyes.
"Eliza?" Regina called out, "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"
Eliza was holding a glass, half filled with water. She continued to stroke the glass, nervously, but did not respond for quite some time.
"Eliza, whatever has happened you can tell me."
Eliza nodded. "I'll….I can show you."
She placed the glass on the other end of the table and sat back down. She took a big breath in, and the glass moved. Right into her hands.
And then the sobbing started.
"You have magic," Regina said, stating the obvious, completely unsurprised. "Sweetheart I will teach you everything about it, how to control it, how to use it, how to suppress it, it's going to be okay, I promise. There's no need to cry."
Eliza lifted her head and looked at her. "But I didn't get my magic from you." She said, fearful and desperate. "I got it from her. Her type of magic is inside me, don't you understand?"
Eliza had learned the truth about Zelena earlier this year, and while the woman was still her mother, she was old enough to understand that she was not the product of true love, that what Zelena had done to her father was wrong. And while she was a better person now and Eiza knew that, she also knew that Zelena's magic was strong, powerful, and evil.
For years Regina's magic had only been light, and Rumple had admitted to her that the reason she was never as good a student as her sister was that dark magic did not come naturally to her. People were instinctually drawn to light magic or dark magic, and Regina was drawn to light magic. It was just part of her chemistry. Zelena, on the other hand, was drawn to dark magic.
"Zelena and I shared the same mother. Just because you got your magic from your mother doesn't mean you will be enchanted by dark magic. I won't let that happen."
Eliza looked down at the table, her eyes never meeting Regina's. "Did you know?" she asked, "Did you already know I had magic?"
Regina sat down next to her and placed an arm around her daughter. "I could feel it inside of you. But magic doesn't always manifest itself. It was there all along, but I didn't know whether you would tap into it. I certainly didn't expect it to come out so early in your life. What happened, how did you notice you had it?"
Eliza sighed. "I was late to class and I couldn't get my locker open. The lock kept jamming. And I was just thinking I wish I could just get this lock off the door…and then it happened."
"What happened?"
"The lock flew off the locker and flew across the hall. No one was in the halls because I was late. I just, I tried to magic it back together, but I couldn't get it to work. I need to find a way to stop it, control it, so it doesn't happen again. It could have hurt someone."
"But it didn't" Regina pulled her daughter into a hug. "It's not your fault. There are some easy fixes I can teach you to avoid this. Breathing exercises, calming techniques. You have a Mills family temper and Mills family patience, so we'll have to work on that. But you're a powerful, strong girl. You are powerful enough to control the magic inside of you."
Eliza sniffled against her mother's shoulders for a few minutes, and slowly her breathing became easier, the tears subsiding, until she let out, in a whisper, what she must have been most afraid of.
"I'm scared of what dad will think of me."
Her daughter always had a special bond with her father, the two of them were practically inseparable between her toddler years and pre-teen years. She was a daddy's girl, and she inherited her distrust of magic from her father. This had to be hard on her.
"Your father is going to be proud of you" she said soothingly.
"Proud of me? For having magic? For having something she gave me?" Even in her state, Eliza still has that fire in her, it appears, and she's drawing upon it now. "Mom, there's nothing to be proud of here. I was born with something, something that could hurt people. I wish I never had it at all! He shouldn't be proud of me!" She makes eye contact with her mother, as if willing to fight over this, willing to prove her mother wrong for this absurd opinion.
Regina can't help but smile as she shakes her head. "He is going to be proud of how you came to me, how you know you have to control this magic. Another child might be excited about the power and forget about the danger. It's a very unique ability. Henry wished for magic, at one time, and I don't doubt Roland had a similar wish. You have it, but you respect it, understand magic for what it is, a powerful gift you must learn to control." She smiled at her daughter, wrapping her arms around her tight. "Your father won't fear you or withdraw from you because you have magic. He purposely surrounds himself with strong, powerful women. You are one of those women. Don't ever forget that."
She tells her father that night, after dinner, when Henry is off at the movies with Grace, and Roland is upstairs playing video games, and it's just the three of them, Robin and the two most important women in his life.
When she shows him her ability, she swears she will spend every free moment learning about magic, about how to control it and not use it unless it is necessary, promises she will try not to hurt anyone.
She doesn't dare to meet his eyes all this time, too afraid to see fear and hatred in them. But he's drawing her into a hug in the middle of her babbling, wiping her tears away, telling her "I'm so proud of you. You are so perfect, you know that?"
She glances at her mother from over her father's shoulder. Regina smiles at her daughter smugly. "See, I told you so."
Regina thinks back to the first time she knew she had magic, how she had shared the same fear that she would also become her mother, the same fear of hurting anyone. If her life were different, had she had the right parents, Regina's relationship with magic would have been so different, so much healthier. She promises herself she will give Eliza this – a knowledge and understanding of the gift inside her, her beautiful daughter who looks nothing like her, but resembles her in so many ways just the same.