The Enchanted Forest; Post "The Doctor"
This wasn't the first time that he'd paid the queen a visit since the ball. He'd been by a handful of times to bring her trinkets from distant lands and tell her what it was like to move between the realms.
She never said it out loud, but he knew that she hung off of every word of his adventures. He was very good at telling stories. If he'd been a slightly less wise man, he would have taken her into his hat a time or two.
Even if that had been the case, the queen's free-time was mostly allocated to her lessons with the imp. Jefferson's time with her was squeezed into a few hours, late in the night, every once in awhile. On the rarest of occasions, they saw one another at the Dark One's castle, or met in the palace grounds.
Those were Jefferson's favorite days, because he was able to see her in the light of day.
At first, it had mostly been for fun. He loved attention, and seeing the young queen's eyes light up as he explained Narnia and Oz to her fed his ego. Eventually, unfortunately, he'd started to care. Over time (he'd been visiting her for just over a year) he'd noticed that even as her magic grew, the queen became more and more sad.
They didn't talk about it much. Whenever Jefferson tried to coax her problems out into the open, the queen cut him off and sent him away.
Every time that he visited it was the same. He'd land on his feet and catch his hat, his back to the queen's chambers—just in case. Although he wouldn't have complained, he doubted the queen would take kindly to being disturbed while indecent.
They scheduled his visits, and that was fine. He didn't mind being courteous. The last thing he wanted was for the fairest woman in the land to turn him away for good.
"Your majesty?" He called out, putting his hat back on.
"Jefferson."
Mm. That didn't sound quite right. Frowning slightly, he turned around and saw the queen sitting at her vanity, looking tired and almost—scared?
"Is this a bad time?" He asked, taking a few steps across the room and settling into a plush armchair, taking in the queen's appearance. She was in her nightgown, her hair braided over her shoulder and her face devoid of makeup, a small crystal vial in her hand. Perfume, maybe?
It was the first time he'd seen her in such a state of undress. It was hardly appropriate. She must have actually forgotten that he was coming.
That had never happened before.
"I…No. No of course not. What have you brought for me?" She asked, and with a small wave of her hand her nightgown was covered with a robe. Oh, magic. It was such a fickle friend to Jefferson. He'd preferred her without the robe.
"Nothing too impressive, I'm afraid." Jefferson took his hat back off and reached into it, pulling out a paper lantern. "I was recently to a land where they send these to the air to try and bring a lost princess home—a silly tradition, but a beautiful one. Would you like me to tell you about it?"
Regina gave a small nod, and his worry increased. Her attention wasn't on him at all, but instead on the bottle in her hand. She was always interested in his stories. What was wrong? More importantly, how could he get her to tell him without overstepping his boundaries?
"The princess herself was a miracle." He explained. "Her mother—the queen, obviously—was very sick during her pregnancy. She was only saved by eating a magical golden flower—and when the child was born, she had a full head of lush, golden hair. Just like the flower! Can you believe that?"
"Mm." Regina still wasn't paying attention.
"Well, in any case—shortly after her birth, the princess was stolen. Now, they send hundreds of these lanterns into the air on her birthday to try and bring her home. I doubt that anything will ever come of it, but it's beautiful. The castle is on the sea, and the lanterns are all reflected in the water, and—"
"Why am I doing this?"
"I…excuse me?" Jefferson asked, his brow furrowed. "Why are you doing what?"
"Any of it. Learning magic, being queen—what's it doing? Nothing's going to change."
Jefferson didn't reply right away. Instead, he took a few moments to think about what was happening, and to study Regina more closely. To his horror, he realized that it looked like she'd been crying—and like she might start crying again.
What had happened? That was the first question he wanted to pose, but he held it back when he realized that there was something much more important that he had to ask her.
"Regina," He said softly. "What's in the bottle?"
xxx
He asked what was in the bottle, and she broke down completely. Before she could tell him to leave her alone, to leave forever, there were arms wrapping around her and her face was pressed against Jefferson's chest.
"I can't. I can't." She sobbed, holding onto him with everything that she had. This was the last thing that she'd wanted. No one was supposed to see her when she was like this. No one.
It was her own fault for forgetting when the portal jumper was supposed to visit, but she'd had to spend the whole day parading around the palace and being completely ignored while visiting nobleman doted on Snow White and shook Leopold's hand.
Normally she wouldn't mind. She didn't want anyone in the palace to speak to her.
Other times—very rarely—every time that someone ignored her, that it became clear that this was the last thing that she could have possibly wanted in her youth, it felt like a knife in her gut. This wasn't what she'd wanted. She'd wanted happiness—she'd wanted the stableboy.
Every once in awhile, it was too much for her to bear. It was something that no one was meant to witness, especially not the reckless young man whose arms she was in.
"Regina, what's in the bottle?" Jefferson asked again, and Regina only cried harder into his chest as he slowly and gently pried it from her hand, one arm still wrapped around the queen.
When she didn't answer, he fell silent. As—slowly—she stopped crying, he let his chin rest on the top of her head, his own chest rising and falling slowly as he breathed in and out. There wasn't anything to say. It was obvious in the way that he was speaking to her that he knew.
He knew what was in the bottle—what she'd been contemplating.
"Would you?" He asked once she'd stopped crying, but hadn't pulled away. Letting him see her in such a moment of weakness was bad enough in itself. Letting him hold her made it worse. There was no farther that she could sink in that particular moment, and so she gave up.
"No. But sometimes I think about it." She whispered.
"Why?" He asked, rubbing gentle circles on her back and making no move to let go. She should have pulled away, but it had been a long time since she'd been embraced so warmly, and couldn't bring herself to end it. Not yet.
"…because I hate being queen. I never wanted this." She grit her teeth. "I want control over my life."
"Then run away." He suggested, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. "Or magic away the castle."
"I can't. I won't."
"So what were you doing with the bottle?"
"I wasn't going to do anything."
"Good." He sighed quietly, and she frowned.
"Not that it matters to you." Forcing herself to regain composure, she pushed him away and took a deep breath, standing up. "Don't think that this makes me weak—I'm not. I'm strong. I can take care of myself." She wasn't sure if she was talking to herself or to Jefferson, but she kept going. "I don't need anyone to save me."
"I'm not trying to save you." He raised up his hands in submission, an eyebrow cocked. "…but I'm not going to let you die, either."
"Then you don't have anything to worry about. I'm not going anywhere." Chin up, she sat back down at the vanity and gestured for her companion to also take a seat. "Keep talking."
"About?" He asked, sitting back down in the armchair he'd been in before.
"The lanterns. And the lost princess." Regina explained, reaching out and picking up the lantern, starting to examine it. Jefferson had apparently dropped it in his rush to comfort her. It was hard to keep color from flooding her cheeks when she thought that he might care about her.
No one was supposed to see her cry, but at least Jefferson had the decency not to mention it.
"Did they find her?" She asked, making eye contact with the portal hopper.
"I…no." Jefferson shrugged and leaned back in the armchair, quickly going from a concerned acquaintance (not friend—she wasn't foolish enough to have those) to the charming and nonchalant traveller she knew. "Unless she's been miraculously returned to her parents since this morning when I left. I just thought you'd enjoy hearing about the lantern festival."
"I…it sounds beautiful." She admitted, thinking back on what Jefferson had said earlier. "I wish that I could see it."
"Well, you are the queen. I know that you're busy, but maybe someday I could take you there." He paused. "Or…anywhere."
Regina hesitated, and then smiled and nodded.
"I'd like that." She said softly, and when their gazes met, something had changed.
Another month went by, another three or four visits, until they kissed. It was a full moon. He'd been telling a story about a troupe of dwarves fighting a dragon, and demonstrating a dance from their land to her, when he'd tripped over his own feet and almost fallen.
She'd criticized his poor coordination, they'd both fallen into laughter without reason, and before she knew what she was doing, Regina had pulled him down and their lips were crashing together.
When she pulled back, hands on his face, she repeated what she'd said weeks before.
"I don't need you to save me."
"I'm not going to save you." He promised. "But I just might kiss you again."
She smiled, and he leaned back in.