Chapter Text
Mere hours ago, in the cold and damp of the night, pain had ricocheted through her body. Each and every pressure point and nerve had seemed to be making themselves known. The only consolation was the relative solace she had been given; even her father had listened and vacated the room for her to be left alone with her attendants and midwives.
Laying in the childbed, a desperate whisper calling her away and to sleep ringing out in her ears six hours later, Her Majesty Queen Regina Of Misthaven finally beheld and embraced her daughter.
“If only you had been able to know your father,” She whispered to her as she held her steady. “He would have loved you. This…this man never will.”
“Shall I send for your father, His Majesty, and the Princess?”
“No,” The Queen hissed. “’His Majesty’ doesn’t have any right to see her just yet, and the Princess…no. Let me be with my daughter alone.”
“As you wish.”
Bows; one by one and one by one and one.
The hearth crackling across the room and the fading light of the day coming in through the doors out onto the balcony, the Queen closed her eyes for only a moment. Her infant daughter warm against her breast, eyes fluttering open and shut, the Queen slowly sat up in her bed, almost reverently holding her daughter. She was much smaller than she had imagined, and her tiny hands, as they peeked out from within her swaddled blankets, were still a little pruned from being cleaned of the afterbirth. The faint whisps of hair on her head were almost as dark as her mother’s own hair, but her eyes, when they opened and looked up at her mother, were the same as her father’s. The reminder of him stinging, the Queen blinked back tears she wanted desperately for no one to see, not even the infant who could never tell anyone nor would be able to remember the sight of them.
When the little girl’s tiny body began to tremble and she began to cry, the Queen shifted, struggling to free one of her tender and aching breasts from her gown. As soon as she managed, though it took a few more minutes of struggle and trying to soothe her little girl, the infant latched and began to nurse.
“I vowed to give you everything,” The Queen weakly murmured to her daughter. “No matter what he says. You may only have me…but I hope I’ll be enough.”
And nothing like your own mother, her mind treacherously whispered. She may be stuck wherever she fell through from that mirror, but she’s still your mother. She may have even felt the same as you do now when she first beheld you.
“Regina? May I enter?”
Her whole being tensing around her daughter as if to hide her, the Queen swallowed hard when she saw her father standing in the doorway, holding the doors open by just a smidge. His eyes soft in worry, she eventually granted him a short nod of acknowledgement as permission to enter. As silently as he could so as not to disturb the infant nursing in her arms, the Queen’s father stepped into the room and closed the doors behind himself with slow, calm, and steady hands. For a time, he did not come towards her, though he moved to light the candles and kindle the hearth to warm the room, even a little, for her and her infant daughter. Her eyes flickering towards her crown on the small table beside her bed, the Queen lowered her head to avoid her father’s gaze, only moving to let her daughter nurse on her other breast, the first one starting to feel pained again. The crackling of fire wood and melting candle wax saving the room from true silence, the Queen tried to focus on them and keeping her infant daughter close in her arms. Seeing her father’s brow furrowing into concern, the Queen relented from her separation, and allowed for him to come near to her. Taking the seat nearest her and her daughter in bed, he bowed his head towards them, a faint smile weaving across his face when he looked up.
“With October nearing its end, I was worried the colder days would make this more difficult for you,” He lightly chuckled. “It seems I had no reason to worry.”
“For now, I suppose not,” She quietly replied. “But I suspect the sentiment won’t last long.”
He looked at her in surprise. “For what reason? The low time after a birth does not last forever, Regina.”
“But does grief?” She shook her head. “I have our daughter safe with me, but Daniel is gone. At the hands of my own mother, no less. And Leopold?” Her voice wavered in anger. “He wanted me to keep this a secret, and to…to throw her away to some peasants. If I feel sadness, or worry, or dejection, I doubt it has much if anything to do with the low after childbearing.”
Her father fell quiet.
“No matter what you need, then,” He eventually said. “I will do all I can to ensure your happiness and safety, as well as hers.”
Regina nodded, blinking away tears. “Thank you, father.”
“I have always been on your side, Regina. That will never change,” He said, smiling at the delicate way she began to soothe and lightly pat her daughter on the back when the infant finished nursing. “I know, of course, the public naming is still a few weeks away, but have you given her a name yet?”
“I have,” Regina said, her voice soft. “Mary Anne Lynn. It’s the same name Daniel always said he wanted to give to a daughter.”
“I’m sure it will grow to suit her well, then,” Her father kindly replied. “I presume…” He chose his words carefully. "I presume Leopold is aware she is not his child?”
“That’s why I did not want him to see her, not yet,” She said, trying to steady her shaking hands when her daughter began to hiccup. “He…he knows I was with child before we were married. She…Lynn is the only reason I have been able to avoid…to avoid consummating with him.”
“Are you afraid he’ll force you to now she is born?”
“No. I forced his hand, and I know already what will happen,” She said, hesitancy and bitterness fighting for control in her voice. “My child…she will be an official heir to the throne, but I will let him…I will let him have me for the formal consummation of the marriage now she is born.”
Her father watched her a for a minute, unsure of how to respond.
“You love her dearly,” He said after a time, pride in his voice. “That you would sacrifice your own comfort and happiness for her is a good sign, Regina, no matter how tragic the circumstances. It will be alright. I knew you would never let him hurt her, and you’re only making that clearer now.”
“I have no choice,” She quietly replied. “She is everything.”
When the Queen entered the opulent dining hall for the first time in the month since the birth of her daughter, the King’s eyes narrowed. The rosy cheeked infant was all but clutched to her mother as tightly as her gown was around her; the same gown flattening the remaining child weight she had been losing almost too quickly. He frowned at the reminder. She has only come now under the empty threat of revealing the publicly presented and named infant a bastard. Even seeing the happiness of his own daughter at the sight of her infant sister did not surpass his resentment. As the woman who had saved his only child, he had thought her to be pure; happy to take on a child she already seemed to care for and give him more children. Yet she had taken that away, and with a mere stable boy. Barely willing to acknowledge her, King Leopold could just as barely hide his disgust. Seeing the way Regina looked at her daughter and the way she held the baby girl so close only raised the sentiment further. The feeling only relented a little when he focused on his own daughter, his Snow, who was more than happy to have a sister. No matter the burning desire to tell the kingdom of his wife’s lies, Snow’s happiness was enough for him to not act on it.
“Hush,” Regina murmured, shifting her daughter in her arms worriedly holding her closer. “Lynn, it’s perfectly alright…”
“She’s rather fussy,” Leopold remarked, his eyes cold towards his wife. “Could you take her away while we’re trying to have a pleasant supper?”
Regina snapped her head towards him, protectively holding the infant close.
“She is fine,” She told him. “She’s an infant, and a perfectly healthy one at that. I am not going to leave her alone. It will only scare her more.”
“Can I hold her?” Snow said with an anxious look at her sister and no sense for the tension and mutual disgust between her father and step mother. “Perhaps I can soothe her?” The ten year old went on.
“No,” Regina said calmly, though she forced herself not to smile when the girl’s face fell. “She’s already scared enough of the world without being separated from me.”
Snow sighed but nodded. “She and I will be great friends when she’s older!” She chirped.
Not if I have any say in it, Regina felt her hands growing clammy. You will never have anything to do with her. She is mine.
“Your mother is coming to visit,” Leopold said mildly. Regina dropped her spoon, suddenly feeling too ill to finish her soup. “She wants to meet the baby as she was…unfortunately unable to attend her naming and presentation.”
Regina stared down at her daughter, who was slowly falling asleep with one of her tiny fists wrapped around her mother’s necklace.
I’ll have to send her somewhere…much harder to escape from. No. She can’t be here. Not with me, and not with her. Perhaps…would Wonderland be far enough?
“Cora!” Snow exclaimed. “It’s been so long. I hope she hasn’t forgotten about me.”
“I’m sure she hasn’t,” Leopold affectionately replied. “No one could forget about such a lovely and charming young woman. You’re going to be a wonderful ruler when the time comes for you to inherit the throne.”
No. Regina looked between her daughter and Snow. My darling, you are too young to know it yet, but you are going to become the next Queen. I’ll ensure it.
“I am sure,” Leopold continued, smiling at his daughter. “That your mother will be more than happy to prepare you to be our next Queen, as will I.”
Regina said nothing, refusing to meet his gaze.
“I think she’s going to be one of my closest and best advisors,” Snow hummed to herself, pausing to take a few more sips of her soup. “I can’t wait for her to be able to talk with me, play with me, and dance with me. I think she’s going to be a wonderful dancer.”
“With you as a teacher, I have no doubt she will be,” Leopold said with a light laugh. “You learnt to dance so quickly, and with such precision it shocked even me. Your mother had been such a wonderous dancer. Even now she is gone, you still have pieces of her.”
“And the love for riding of my new mother!” Snow said, beaming at Regina who startled at the sight. “I would love to teach her to ride with you. Do you think she will take to it as well as you did? I remember Cora saying how much of a natural rider you are.”
“I’m sure she’ll excel at whatever it is she needs to,” Regina told her, struggling to hide her frigidity. “I should remind you, however, that she’s far too young to sit up by herself. How do you expect her to learn to dance or ride already?”
Snow giggled a little. “I know. It’s just so exciting to have her! She’s so precious, and I want to do as much as I can with her!”
“Give it time, Snow,” Leopold affectionately said. “You were once as small as she is. I –”
“Your Majesties!” A guard breathlessly ran into the dining hall, a few more shortly behind him. “Some vipers have been caught on the palace grounds. We’ve captured and locked them up, but –”
Regina raised a hand to silence him. “Have you?”
“So long as they are not where we are, they can be dealt with in due time,” Leopold frowned when he caught a glimpse of the Queen’s face. “Regina? Is something the matter?”
“Hardly,” She said, standing up and holding her daughter as far away from him as possible. “It is only that I happen to be quite fond of exotic animals.”
“If you are going to hand the infant off to the nursemaids, please meet me in our bedchamber,” Leopold took a few seconds to enjoy the anxiety that suddenly clutched onto Regina. “I will see you after I finish supper with Snow. Please,” He smirked when he knew his daughter did not see. “Do not make me wait.”
Dead.
He was there, laid grey and motionless.
Dead.
“I’m so terribly sorry, your majesty,” An attendant whispered, escorting the Queen from the room and to her ladies in waiting as several others lowered the death shroud over the King. “What an awful tragedy to befall you after the birth of your daughter. I cannot even fathom the pain. So soon after the both of you were granted a child. I am sorry. There are no words.”
“No,” The Queen replied, her face well practiced from lies to her mother. “No, there are not.”
In her silk night shift and her velvet robe, the Queen let her ladies in waiting whisk her away. Hearing anxious footsteps coming down the corridor, one of her ladies in waiting moved to shield her face from the young Princess when she emerged into the corridor. Seeing the fear and worry in the ten year old’s face, Regina could not help herself from smiling, hiding it with her hands from her ladies in waiting as they hid what they were sure to be her horror from the young Princess. A few attendants who left the bedchamber quickly intercepted the Princess, murmuring comforts and reassurances to the ever more worried ten year old.
“She’s going to be alright, with you still here for her,” One of her ladies in waiting murmured to the Queen. “She is not left alone. Take comfort in that, your Majesty.”
“I’m sure I will,” The Queen said as monotonously as she could. “How could this happen? The guard said they had captured all of them.”
“A horrible mishap, to be sure,” Another one of her ladies in waiting replied. “It will not happen again, your Majesty. I’m sure you and the Princesses will have nothing to worry about.”
“I sincerely hope so,” The Queen said, though she could not help but smile behind her hands. “They say the worst tragedies happen when winter is starting to fall. Perhaps that is what happened here.”
“Perhaps so,” The same lady in waiting said. “But try not to worry your Majesty.”
“Regina,” A new voice began, letting out a sigh of relief upon seeing her. “The commotion…what –”
“Is Lynn alright?” She said, lowering hands to meet the eyes of her father. “You were with her, were you –”
“She is perfectly alright, sleeping peacefully,” Her father assured her. “But are you –”
“She nearly died,” One of the ladies in waiting fretfully told him. “Vipers, they attacked the King and nearly –”
“I see. Thank you for escorting her safely,” Her father waited for the ladies in waiting to leave before following his daughter into her bedchamber. “She’s been asleep for about an hour,” He said when the doors closed.
“I know,” Regina said, not turning to face him. “I used magic to ensure it. I…I think it helps her sleep.”
Her father silently nodded.
“I’m not using it the way mother used to on me,” Fury began to shake her voice. “Is that what you’re thinking of me, father?”
“Far from it,” He calmly replied. “But, please, Regina…be careful and rest.”
She glanced towards him after sitting down on her bed near where her daughter slept in her bassinet.
“I will,” She told him. “Why are you looking at me that way?”
“I was simply worried for you,” He said, though something in her eyes disquieted him. “I…I’ll leave you be. But please rest.”
Regina lightly smiled. “I more than will, father. You have no need to worry.”
Silence and no movement. When her father finally left the room, he did so with a short bow of his head. He calmly and quietly shut the doors behind himself. Looking down at her daughter again when she was sure he was gone, the Queen laughed a little. Leaning over to press a soft and affectionate kiss to her daughter’s forehead, the Queen only paused when she caught sight of fluid movement out of the corners of her eyes. She turned towards it swiftly, a bit of anxiety slashing at her for a few seconds, before another smile began to make itself known on her face.
“You can leave the wardrobe and shadows,” The Queen said to the movement. “You’re known as the Light Witch, after all.”
“Light can live in shadows,” A voice replied as the movement began to slow. “Isn’t that what you always told me?”
The Queen laughed. “Tell me,” She said, raising an eyebrow when a slender, pale and blonde figure emerged from the shadows. “Who gave you the vipers? Was it Him, by chance, Fenella?”
The woman’s blue eyes sparkled as a smirk graced her face. “In a manner of speaking,” She said, her bare feet gliding over the perfectly polished marble floors and a dress of pale blue silk following behind her. “How long have we known each other, Regina? I always come through for you.”
“Since you were one of the few in my childhood my mother did not cast out,” The Queen smiled, standing up to retrieve and hand her a large velvet box. “Your payment, in kind.”
“I’ll take my retreat to the shore, then,” The Light Witch replied with a faint sparkle behind her eyes. “And I wouldn’t worry about your mother. It seems you were right. Wonderland is far enough.”
“A burden less for me to bear if there ever were any,” The Queen said, watching her disappear in a plume of wispy, silver smoke. “Only a few more troubles to put an end to before the throne is indisputably yours,” She whispered, approaching her sleeping daughter in her bassinet. “The world is on the crux of being in the palms of your hands. You’ll be alright. No one will ever harm you. No one will ever harm us.”
Dead.
The King was shrouded, grey and motionless.
Dead.
“The King is dead,” Regina said softly to herself as she approached her mirror and set her crown on her head. “Long live the Queen.”