New fic: The Sun Inside, OUAT, Emma/Regina, R, Part V
Title: The Sun Inside
Fandom/pairing: Once Upon a Time, Emma/Regina
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything related to ABC/Disney’s Once Upon a Time. But I wish I could get my hands on Regina.
Summary: When someone gets fairydust in her hair at a party, that someone gets someone else pregnant. But a threat from another world looms large, distracting our fair couple from the impending birth. In other words, it’s yet another magic baby scenario.
Length: 41K words, give or take
Notes: I bow to the Mafia: damelola, shemadehimwaffles, the-charmings. They helped me tremendously with their advice and encouragement. Also, I never thought I’d see the day when I’d write a story that featured pregnancy, but eh, what can you do? This turned out to be far longer than I anticipated, so sorry for the delay, gentle readers!
REGINA
Regina is awakened by the unusual sensation of movement in her belly. The baby nudges her a few times, and although this curiosity has been going on for some time, it still feels odd. She’s not sure if it’s an arm or a leg pushing at her from the inside, but she doesn’t mind. She glances over at Emma, whose face is half obscured by the pillow. Her hair is pulled back with a strip of leather, and she breathes lightly and evenly.
She is Regina’s every hope personified.
All the good things Emma tells Regina each day ease her burden immeasurably, no matter how much Regina denies it. Just having her here, in her bed, gives her more than she can express. And the baby that flips and stretches inside her, well, that is a gift that Regina will never be able to repay.
Especially as the other gift Emma gave her, Henry, sleeps easy down the hall, safe and warm.
She reaches out and touches Emma’s cheek so gently she doesn’t feel a thing. She slides off the mattress without jarring it and goes to the dresser. Weeks ago she would have used magic to dress, to save time and energy, but that is no longer an option. She selects a snug, royal purple top that flares at the waist and gives her confidence. She tops it off with a set of specially sewn black trousers, altered to accommodate the baby. She skips the typical open skirt that shows her legs, since the tunic is so long that it swings over her hips. Sexy yet subtle, and just strong enough to suggest power, despite her lack of it.
That said, the mirror is unforgiving this morning. Her cheeks are puffy, as are her eyes. She’d cried the night before while Emma was with Henry, telling him of her lost magic, but she’d hidden the evidence the best way she could. Fortunately Emma hadn’t noticed, falling into a deep slumber shortly after they’d crawled into bed together.
Regina, on the other hand, had slept poorly. Her child had been awake for a long time too, and Regina almost felt as though she was keeping her company in her loneliness. It’s still a shock in the morning when she touches her stomach and feels the rise where there used to be none. Pleasure inevitably replaces the surprise, and she often spends long minutes with her eyes closed, just running her fingers along the swell. Today, she didn’t take the time to do this, too impatient to get to the war room. She wants to speak plainly to Snow and James of her suspicions about Cora.
When she enters the informal dining room, James is there, as always. He sips from a cup of strong black coffee and smiles at her as she strides in.
“Nice shirt,” he says, his sideways grin as disarming as ever.
“Thank you, Charming,” she replies, their banter relaxing her. “I dressed for you, as always.”
“Glad to hear it.” He pushes a plate of fruit across the table toward her. “I kept back some blueberries. Had to fight Sneezy for them, so you’re welcome.”
“I’m sure it was a challenging battle. You look much the worse for wear.”
“Thanks,” he replies. Glancing down at his empty plate, he asks softly, “How’s Henry?”
Regina scoops some berries onto her plate, taking a banana and a ripe peach too. “Better than I am.”
“You don’t look like you slept well.”
“I didn’t,” Regina snipes. “Thanks for the compliment.”
“But the baby--”
“The baby kept me up half the night. She’s nocturnal.”
He sits back in his chair and smiles. “Sounds about right.”
Regina looks at him, a spoonful of berries and yogurt halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean?”
“Emma was like that. She kicked both of us awake often, if I remember correctly. Moreso near the end.”
Glancing down at her stomach, Regina sighs. “Great. I’ll look forward to that.”
“Consider it payback for making Snow’s entire pregnancy miserable,” James quips, unafraid to bring up the past. Of everyone, James seems to be easiest with their history.
“Well, I’m at least slightly sorry,” Regina says, catching his eye and lifting a brow as he chuckles.
“Glad something’s changed,” James replies, draining his coffee and placing a hand on his sword as he swings his leg over the bench. “Meet you in the war room.”
She nods, grateful he’ll be joining them today. He has a better time making Snow see reason than she ever does. “James, wait,” she says, catching him before he departs. “Snow refuses to believe that Cora might come by water. But we have to consider it, plan for it at the very least. Help her understand, please.”
He gazes thoughtfully at Regina. “I’ll do my best. I keep hoping you two will--” he pauses. “Never mind. See you in a few.”
Regina finishes her breakfast in silence, savoring the single cup of coffee she’s allowed each day. She used to make it last far longer, zapping it with a little magical heat to keep it warm, but those days are over. The caffeine clears the last of the cobwebs and gives her the energy to throw herself into the fray once more.
It’s good that she took her time on breakfast, because the moment she enters the room, Snow flies at her. “What are you doing, using my own husband against me to steer our armies in the wrong direction?”
Exhaling, Regina shuts the door and closes her eyes for a moment. “Snow, please--”
“That’s Queen Snow to you, Regina,” Snow says. “You should remember your place here, serving at the pleasure of your sovereigns.”
Regina bites the inside of her cheek, remembering Emma’s request not to pick a fight. But she didn’t start this one, she reasons, so she opens her mouth with a sneer. “Sometimes it’s difficult to remember your status, considering how idiotic, not to mention myopic your strategy is--”
Snow is incensed. “I could have you thrown in jail for such an insult!” she shouts.
“I’d be safer behind bars than I would be alongside your army!” Regina replies sharply.
As Snow inhales, James steps between them. “Stop it, both of you!”
“Charming, she has no right to come in here and take over, and she’s using you to get to me! How dare she! She’s lucky we even let her stay in the castle,” Snow declares.
Regina’s voice is deadly serious, and the air is electrified at her words. “Whether you like it or not, without me you will fail against my mother. And you will all die at her hand.”
There is a silence, as everyone stares at the three of them in the center of the room.
James turns to Snow. “Just listen to her, if only for a minute--”
Snow doesn’t even let him finish. “There is too much risk for Cora to come across the water. How in heaven’s name could her armies charge over ice? They’ll have limited range of motion, they won’t be able to move quickly enough, and they’d be in as much danger as we would be of falling through and drowning.”
“You forget, Your Majesty, my mother has a great deal of control over her magic,” Regina insists. “The woman you knew as a child is infinitely more powerful now than she ever was then. And believe me, she revealed almost nothing of her true strength to either you or your father. If she wants her army to come across the ice, they will be able to. If she wants them to walk on water, they’ll be able to do so. All we can do is prepare. There is no reason at all for you to deny us this opportunity, other than to deny me personally. Is that what this is about?”
“No,” Snow snaps. “This is about practicality--”
“My mother is anything but practical. She will attack from all sides, and she will use the element of surprise. Our best bet is to assume that she will be one step ahead of us--”
Snow interrupts, “She doesn’t even know about the baby! How would she be able to plan so far ahead if she doesn’t even realize--”
“Because she’s known about the prophecy for decades, you fool! She knows it will happen, she just doesn’t know when. We’re the ones who are light years behind her in planning. It is insane to think that she will not foresee every contingency we put in motion. She is a stellar tactician, and believe me, when it comes to anticipation, her only match was Rumpelstiltskin.”
The room goes still at this, and Regina believes she’s finally made progress. None of them considered the idea that the Queen of Hearts had been planning her attack years in advance; Regina only realized it recently herself. Cora will move quickly and savagely to put down their fight. Regina believes that their advantages were her own magic and the love she has for her children and for Emma. But now she’s only left with love, and that is still a weakness. Regina will so easily be threatened, so easily broken. If she loses any one of the three dearest to her, she will be decimated.
Snow stares at her as the truth sets in. “Gods,” she whispers.
Regina laces her fingers together against her belly. “Now you see,” she says, her voice low. “Let’s start the day again. Shall we?”
Snow nods, glancing at James. “All right.”
James watches Regina, his eyes gracious and soft. “Good morning, Regina. I trust you slept well,” he says.
Regina allows a gentle smile. “Quite,” she replies, and takes her seat at the council table.
---
They make little progress in the next weeks as far as strategy. Instead they work on building their physical, brute force. James and Snow take a break from the war room and join the training sessions. Regina continues working with some of the elder council members and dwarves, discussing recruitment of other armies some distance away from the realm. They have reached out, and some forces have come forward, but they’re limited. They know the risks involved better than anyone, since Cora is well known far beyond the Enchanted Forest.
In the afternoons, Regina retires to the library, where she’s supposed to rest.
She does not. Instead she scours her own collection of books for hints about her own loss of magic, and potential ways to defeat her mother. She starts at the beginning, remembering her earliest training with Maleficent, and how desperate she was then to destroy the young woman who had ruined her life. How little, yet how much has changed.
In Storybrooke the calm of daily life, with its mundane tasks like grocery shopping and paperwork and child care, kept her distracted from missing her magic. She’d often wished to have it, but the lack of it didn’t consume her thoughts the way it does here. She hides it well, at least she hopes she does, from Emma, and more importantly from Snow White. She cannot allow her pride to falter in front of her old nemesis. While they are on the same side, Snow still gets under her skin simply by existing.
As Regina reads, memories flow from of thousands of hours of work and practice that now mean nothing. Regrets and losses weigh heavily on her mind. So does fear for the lives of everyone she loves. The familiar texts soothe her as much as the baby’s movements do, and still she yearns to identify something, anything that will help.
One afternoon as the sunlight fades into a late summer evening, Regina reclines on a settee. She is paging through one of her more advanced tomes when she drifts off into a lucid dream. She sees Maleficent, younger and somehow smaller, but still with her sinister smile. She transforms into a dragon, then morphs quickly into a unicorn, and Regina frowns. That makes little sense, but then Maleficent becomes herself again, and in her hand is a loose thread. She reaches out.
“Pull,” Maleficent says, placing her hand in Regina’s.
Regina looks down, and in that dream state, she holds the dark thread in between her thumb and forefinger. She pulls, and Maleficent gasps. Regina turns toward her, sees her face graying, and stops.
“Don’t you remember?” Maleficent says. “You have to try.”
Then Maleficent is a swirl of smoke, and Regina is alone. Suddenly she notices the huge shadow on the wall, and the dread that fills her reminds her of the locked closet she’d sometimes slept in as a girl, just to feel protected. Anything to escape that shadow.
Something brushes her fingers; it’s her horse, Louis. “Take me away from here,” Regina whispers, and when she opens her eyes, Emma’s lovely face hovers above. Her expression is open, almost surprised, and the color of her eyes is like the ocean.
“Where do you want to go?” Emma asks.
Regina blinks, asking, “What?”
Emma smiles. “You said, ‘Take me away from here.’ Just say the word and we’re gone. Anywhere you want to go.”
“Am I awake?” Regina says, the dread from the dream still hanging over her. She looks at the wall, which is thankfully bare and shadowless.
“Yeah. What were you dreaming about?”
Regina tries to recall, although the images are already fading. “About Maleficent, I think. We were doing magic, years ago, and there was… something. She was telling me something.”
Emma doesn’t prod her; her patience is a balm.
“It’s gone,” Regina finally admits. The dream is just a faint memory now, although the fear of the dark force in it remains potent.
“Do you think it was important?” Emma asks.
“I hope not.”
Emma chuckles. “Me too.” She puts her hands to Regina’s belly and is rewarded almost immediately with a prodding elbow or knee. “How’s this one?”
Regina sighs. “Antsy. She’s pressing on a nerve in my back, and my feet are killing me. The heat isn’t helping, either.”
“Think she could use a bite to eat?”
With a nod, Regina sits up. Emma helps her to her feet, pressing tender lips below Regina’s ear. “Thank you, dear,” Regina says, taking a hand in hers. “I need a bathroom break. As usual.”
Regina makes her stop on the way to the dining room, sighing in relief when she emerges. “I can’t believe I have at least six more weeks of peeing every half hour. That will be really nice to leave behind.”
“Yeah, I don’t miss that,” Emma says with a wry grin. “At least we have good plumbing now. Putting in that system as soon as we got here was probably the best idea you’ve ever had.”
“It’s not perfect but it works,” Regina says. She can’t imagine going back to the old ways when it comes to plumbing-the lack of proper air conditioning and refrigeration was also on her list, but they’ve since been superseded by other concerns. “Think there’s any ice cream left from last week?”
Emma’s eyebrow twitches. “I think we can rustle something up from the ice house. If you’re nice to me.”
“Nice to you?” Regina replies drolly. “I’m seven and a half months pregnant and carrying your child. I expect you to cater to my every whim, and I want ice cream. After I have some maybe I’ll be nice to you,” she adds, sliding a hand down to Emma’s ass as they approach the dining room door.
“You might want to move your hand,” Emma says as she leans for the wrought iron handle.
“And why is that?”
“So the guests don’t get an eyeful.” She pulls open the door, and the larger dining table has been moved to the center of the room where it’s surrounded by familiar faces. In the middle of it is a huge feast, with candles illuminating the table.
Regina is so stunned that she doesn’t remove her hand, and a good number of people start laughing. “What is this?” she asks, pretending that the small squeak to her voice didn’t actually happen.
“It’s your birthday, Your Majesty.” At Regina’s open mouth, Emma explains, “I know you forgot. So did I. But Henry didn’t.”
“Oh,” Regina exhales, searching the room for her son’s face. He is there, in the middle of everyone, wearing his most evil grin. “Well.” She swallows and fights the tears that naturally form in her eyes, because sometimes it still shocks her that he cares for her again.
“Happy birthday, Mom.” He holds out his arms, and his head tucks below her chin now as he hugs her. Her boy is growing up so fast.
“Thank you for remembering, dearest. I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you too,” he answers quietly. “Everyone I invited came.”
Around the table are Red, her boyfriend Jacob, Granny, Jiminy (who chose to stay in human form), Grumpy, Nova, and Abigail and Frederick, who traveled a great distance to be here. Regina hasn’t seen Abigail in months, and her friend’s smile is wide as her eyes fasten on the Regina’s belly. Snow is also here (probably under duress) with James, who comes forward. Regina takes his hands as he kisses her cheek. “Happy birthday, Regina.”
“Thank you, everyone,” Regina says, unaccustomed to so many smiling faces pointed in her direction all at once. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’re hungry so we can get started on this turkey,” Granny says, holding aloft a huge carving knife.
There’s a titter of laughter around the table, and Regina says, “I’m hungry.”
The dinner is very pleasant, and while they try to avoid the topic, the coming battle is central to the conversation. Abigail, however, later steers the chatter in the direction of the baby, despite her association with Cora.
“And why are you so certain it’s a girl?” she asks.
“We’re not,” Emma answers.
“I can tell,” Henry interjects, sitting up on his knees in his chair. “I knew it right away.”
“How?” Frederick asks.
Henry just shrugs. “I don’t know. It just makes sense. If Mom has a girl and a boy, that seems right. Although if it does turn out to be a boy, that’s okay too. A brother would be cool. Just maybe not as cool as a sister. I always wanted a sister.”
Regina inhales; the sound of it is quiet, but Emma touches her back softly.
“I never knew that, Henry,” Emma says.
“Yeah.” He looks down at the little pile of peas he’s bunched up on his plate, probably in a plan to eventually shove them into his napkin. “I didn’t think it was going to happen. But then we got here, and there’s magic. That’s really why I think it’s a girl, I guess. Because I wanted it for like, years.”
Regina wishes desperately she’d learned this piece of information out of the sight of everyone around the table, because her raging hormones are heightening her emotions. The usual tears flow, and though she tries to hide it, she is unsuccessful. Snow and James are used to it by now, but Granny, Red, Abigail and Frederick all gape in her direction. Jiminy just smiles his knowing smile, while Jacob, the one Regina knows the least about, says, “I think that’s awfully nice. I never had a sister, Henry, but I always wanted one too.”
“Do you have brothers?” Henry asks him, thereby distracting some of the group from Regina.
“Two,” he replies. “And they were wild. I was the youngest, so I was always getting into trouble with my mom when they made me do crazy things.”
“What kinds of crazy things?” Henry asks.
When Jacob starts to explain, Regina tunes out, blotting her tears with a napkin Granny hands her from across the table. Regina is beyond embarrassed, but there’s an odd tenderness in Red’s eyes, as well as Granny’s. Emma’s hand rests on Regina’s thigh beneath the table, and the baby shifts inside her. Turning to Jacob, she doesn’t pay much attention to what he’s saying, but she likes that he’s having real conversation with Henry. She glances at Red, who is staring right at her, those wolfish eyes making her feel unnervingly exposed.
“You look good, Your Majesty,” Red says softly, out of earshot of most of the guests. “Pregnancy agrees with you.”
“Thank you, dear. Your new… friend is very nice.”
“Yeah. He looks like a bad ass, but he’s got a soft heart. Like somebody else I know,” she says slyly, and Regina pretends she’s talking about Emma. “He’s got a red cloak of his own, by the way. We’ll be on the front line when your mother comes, and the fairies might be able to force us to change.”
Regina is startled; she hadn’t realized that was an option.
“Of course, we might eat our own people if we’re unlucky, so ah, I’m hoping we don’t have to. I’m not bad with a broadsword, and Jake’s really strong.” She peeks over at him, since he’s still conversing with Henry. “I like him, a lot. He’s gorgeous, right?” she asks, eyebrows waggling.
“Oh, yes,” Regina agrees, checking him out. Tall and brawny with softly curling dark hair that comes to his shoulders, he has a five o’clock shadow and strong jaw that Regina can’t help but appreciate. “Definitely.”
“I used to think we only had one true love here,” Red says, drawing Regina’s eyes back to her own. “I lost mine, you know. His name was Peter.”
Regina nods, thoughts of Daniel drifting into her mind. Somehow it’s less difficult now, to remember. Her heart still aches, but it’s eased in the last year or so. Because of Emma. “I know,” she says. “It takes a long time to move on.” She doesn’t say let go, because she can’t do that. But moving on is something she can achieve.
“Since we’ve been back, something changed,” Red says, bringing Regina back to her original thought. “I might be able to love him. I feel it, here.” She touches her chest. “Like you, with Emma.”
“I’m happy for you, Red. Truly.”
“He understands me, more than anyone. Other than Granny, no one else can really know what it’s like. Being what we are, I mean.”
“Don’t be afraid to say it,” Regina tells her. “There are far worse things in this world.”
Red shrugs. “At least no one’s trying to kill us at the moment. That’s how we found each other. A while back I got wind of a hunting party in the North lands, tracking a werewolf. I followed them, and I got to Jake before they did. He was living off the land, but the winter was rough in the mountains and he was nearly starving. And he had no cloak then, so at the full moon, we, um, shared.” Red realizes what she’s confessed to, and they laugh together. “It was innocent, at first.” Her grin returns. “Not so much now.”
“I should think not,” Regina drawls, eyeing his well-defined forearms and rough hands. He’s surprisingly elegant for someone so powerful, and she imagines his wolf must be absolutely terrifying in action.
“I was glad to bring him tonight. I wanted you to meet him. And Emma already likes him.”
Regina glances at Emma, who is listening to Jacob and Henry chat, but Emma turns to Red when she hears her own name. “Hmm?”
“Oh, nothing,” Red says. “You look crazy fit, Em. What the hell are you doing all day long?”
“Beating people up,” Emma replies, stealing another piece of bread from a basket on the table. “I took down James yesterday, but he’s a little soft so it’s not like it was that big of a challenge,” she adds.
“I heard that,” James says from across the table. “Watch out, kiddo, or I won’t go easy on you tomorrow.”
“As if,” Emma says, her brash attitude reminding Regina of the days when they first met, when Emma was full of bluster and insouciance. Regina likes the look of it on her again, and enjoys the one-upmanship going on around the table. But even more, she enjoys the squeeze of Emma’s fingers around her thigh. The wine is flowing freely and Emma has had her fair share. Her laugh is easy and low, while her cheeks are flushed with pleasure. The conversation gets a little louder, but when Emma’s eyes meet Regina’s, there is a familiar spark of heat. It amazes her that Emma is still so attracted to her in her current state, despite all of the unpleasantness that comes along with pregnancy. She has grown in every direction, but Emma seems to adore her body’s deep curves and valleys as much as she did her slimmer figure. In fact, she has a feeling that much adoration is going to be spent on her this evening, if she can get Emma back to their rooms without either of them falling over.
But before Regina can make her apologies and depart her own celebration early, Granny stands and announces that it’s time for presents. It’s an unexpected and practically unwanted development. Regina is about to demur politely until she realizes that the gifts Red and Jacob are carrying in from another room are wrapped in conspicuously pastel colors. Baby gifts, she understands, and closes her mouth.
She’s never had a baby shower before, even an informal one. In Storybrooke, when she adopted Henry, no one gave her anything. It didn’t hurt her feelings then, and she ordered everything she needed over the internet and had it all shipped to her home after Henry’s arrival. But this is so much different; she has barely prepared for the baby’s arrival, other than to have a crib made and assembled in the corner of the bedroom. She has baby blankets too, but that’s about all. None of the modern accoutrements of Storybrooke are necessary here; diaper genies and breast milk pumps and car seats never even occurred to her.
Not that she receives any of those items tonight. One by one she unwraps her gifts, as Emma looks on with bright eyes. First there is a silver rattle from James, engraved with two swans hovering above the fire from her own crest. Next are two dozen onesies and a large box of soft cloth diapers (in four sizes) from Granny. “You’ll need more, but these will get you started,” she says as the other guests laugh.
Snow gives her handmade baby clothes: tiny suede trousers and shirts of the finest cotton, knitted sweaters for winter, plus two long sheepskin jackets that Regina loves instantly. There are dresses too (assuming their girl prediction is correct), and footie pajamas so small that everyone coos over them, including Regina. It’s an enormous collection of things, and Regina feels shy when she thanks Snow.
“It’s for both you and Emma, really,” Snow reminds her, and Regina nods.
“Of course.”
Either way, their baby will be well dressed.
Red and Jacob clap when she unwraps their baby booties and hats, all of which go perfectly with the new clothes-clearly these gifts were planned well in advance. The idea makes Regina’s heart thump wildly in her chest, that these people would think kindly of her, not knowing what the future holds.
Nova and Grumpy (who is only slightly more cheerful than usual) present a lifelike rocking horse, intricately painted and coiffed with what looks like real horse hair as a mane and a tail. When Regina looks closely and sees the dark diamond shape above the horse’s snout, she realizes it’s a replica of her own stallion, Louis. “Oh,” she says quietly, trailing a finger down the design. “It’s lovely. Truly.”
From Abigail and Frederick, she receives a cradle suited for travel, as well as a leather pack to carry the baby either on foot or horseback. “I suppose you can use it for riding too,” Abigail adds as she displays how the buckles expand the harness as the baby grows. “But for heaven’s sake, be careful. I know you can’t bear to be off your horse for very long.”
Regina doesn’t mention that she’s not riding anymore. Without the ability to cushion a fall with magic, it’s too big a risk. Instead she visits Louis now and then, taking him into the pen for training. It’s not the same, but it’s something. She thanks Abigail and Frederick profusely, assuring them that she’ll use the pack wisely.
And finally, from Henry, there is a mobile of carved wooden fawns that spin slowly as a tinkling song plays. “It’s made like a music box. Grumpy helped me,” he explains, as Grumpy harrumphs from across the table. Regina touches each of the small, smooth pieces, wondering at how long it must have taken him to do each of them.
“It’s perfect,” she tells Henry, pulling him into a hug, loving how his thin arms wrap so easily around her neck. “Thank you, dearest.”
“Welcome,” he murmurs.
“Will you tell me how you made it tonight before you go to bed?” she asks, softly so no one else hears.
He nods against her neck before pulling away and patting her shoulders. She sees the emotion on his face as he returns to his seat, and is startled when she notices the intensity with which Snow watches him too. But although she is curious, she lets it go when Emma places a hand on her back. Emma motions in the direction of the doorway, where Granny is carrying in the cake. “Get ready to make your wish,” she says. “You’ll get your present from me later,” Emma adds with a wink.
Regina enjoys the little spike of adrenaline the words cause within her. But for now, she considers her wish as Granny places a large cake in the center of the table with dozens of candles spread across it. “Didn’t know how old you were so I just set the whole thing on fire,” Granny says, looking quite satisfied with her joke.
There’s scattered laughter, especially from Emma, who slaps her leg in mirth.
“Very funny,” Regina says smoothly, still flattered from all the attention. The cake smells deliciously of apples and cinnamon and caramel. She inhales and shuts her eyes, sending out something more like a prayer than a wish: Please let us, all of us, survive. Please let my family live. She takes one last inhale and blows out the candles. It’s difficult, considering her diminished lung capacity, but she strains for the last corner of the cake and manages to get it done in one breath.
There’s an explosion of applause as Regina gasps, the baby immediately deciding to kick her in the bladder. She chuckles as she cuts the first slice, turning over the duty to Granny right after that. The cake is delightful, and everyone seems to enjoy it even though Snow White purses her lips when she takes her first bite. Despite her better nature, Regina enjoys that.
When the cake is half-demolished, Regina feels a familiar wave of fatigue. But the conversation around the table continues to thrive, and she is hesitant to break up the party. Never before has a group of people willingly (for the most part) come together to celebrate her birth. The pile of baby gifts on the nearby table touches her heart far more deeply than she could have anticipated. And the smiles she’s received from the guests, her friends, offer a welcome sense of contentment.
A little groan next to her brings her out of her thoughts; Henry has a hand on his stomach, and half a piece of cake left on his plate. It’s his second, to which Regina raised an eyebrow but allowed because it’s a special occasion. “Mom, I feel kind of full,” he mumbles.
Instead of following her first instinct toward admonishment, she bites it back and places an arm around his shoulder. “Ready to go then? I can make a drink to make you feel better.” They don’t have the modern conveniences from the drug store anymore, but a little baking soda will do just as well.
“Okay.”
“Say goodnight to everyone,” she encourages, and watches as he goes around the table to give hugs and good nights.
Emma leans over to ask, “You heading out too?”
“Yes. I’ll tuck him in.”
“I’ll see everyone out.”
“Thank you, dear,” Regina says, and kisses Emma lightly on the mouth. Regina stands, releasing a little breath of effort as she makes it to her feet. Everything is sore tonight, especially her feet. Perhaps instead of sex Regina will ask for a foot rub.
Everyone else stands as well, wishing Regina well and offering hugs and a few kisses. Red holds her close for a long time. “You’ll be okay, Regina,” she says. Although she doesn’t ask permission, Regina doesn’t mind when she touches her belly. Few others would get away with such familiarity. “Good night, little one. See you soon,” Red says as she leans down close to the baby. Pregnancy has obviously made her seem more approachable, and she blames the hormones over the fact that she enjoys it, just a little.
She says her goodbyes, and while she exchanges a few words with James, Snow merely nods. Regina does the same as Henry takes her hand and leans against her side. “Come along, dear. Good night, everyone, and thank you, for everything. I’m--” her voice catches--”I’m very grateful.”
There’s a broad murmur across the room as she departs, inhaling as deeply as she can as she walks with Henry across the castle.
---
Part VI.