“I realize that fidelity may not mean a great deal to you; but it does to me. So. I would… appreciate it if you could find some way to respect that. It isn’t personal. Nor is it some slight against your appeal as a lover. It’s simply that… someone else is in the picture.” Figuratively speaking, of course. Literally too, if you counted the pathetically reassembled picture folded securely in her coat pocket. But otherwise, she didn’t see fit to explain further that the man she was rejecting Maleficent for was not only NOT in Storybrooke, and possibly locked out forever. He was also lost to her, and away with a WIFE he once loved. It sounded more ridiculous to think out loud, but what Maleficent didn’t know couldn’t be used to harm Regina.
She felt… exposed. As if Maleficent could see through every piece of her. Call it some lingering vulnerability or longing for the woman’s approval, but it was unnerving to say the least. She hadn’t felt this way since… well, since her mother had been here, and even then THAT was much less severe than Maleficent’s icy gaze that was so cold it burned. Clearing her throat and shifting her stance, Regina cursed herself for the flush that crept up her chest, neck and cheeks. She needed a drink. Which was, surprisingly, a new habit, much in thanks to Maleficent and her little band of merry murderesses.
She let out a sigh as she found the cabinet with the liquor in it, grabbing the first bottle she saw and pouring two drinks; trying not to recall the last time she’d been in this very cabin. And who with. She’d rejected HIM too, then. Having a much needed sip, she turned a glance over to Maleficent, brow furrowing a touch as her expression eased into a small smile.
“You know we never used to bicker like this,” she pointed out, leaving the second glass behind, and taking her drink to a chair, where her wary gaze scrutinized the empty seat August had not long ago filled. Gold was out, who knew where, and Cruella was sleeping off a head injury (something she couldn’t help but laugh about.) Unfortunately that left only her and Maleficent. Again. Dammit. “I’d ask what happened to us, but I think that’s rather obvious. “ Her countenance said it for her, GUILT was not a shade she wore often, but if ever she were to have a regret, how she let things between them end all those years ago was certainly one of them.
It was almost irritating the way Regina wouldn’t snipe back. How she alone was left to such devices the moment the other woman fell into sentiment and genuine feeling. The way she spoke of this…other love she now had, of which Maleficent was fully aware. At least that he existed and she’d since lost him. So why the hell did it matter? And why was there the familiar feeling of fire beginning to brew in her gut?
“And this….someone…in the picture, is he here? I’m interested to know since I was stepping on his toes the other night, while not even knowing there were toes to be stepped on. The last time I stole you away from someone I was at least aware of what I was doing.”
Whatever maligned feelings she’d been holding on to were now starting to fray. Which in and of itself was more trying than anything for the moment’s being. She didn’t want to fall back into some kinder way in which she handled Regina’s presence. For years she’d been overly tolerant to her drop-in visits, absurdly sympathetic to every one of her plights as a young and unwilling queen, she was even uncommonly gentle with her when their friendship changed into so much more — none of which befit the monster so many thought she was. She’d listened to her speak of the thief she let into her bed when her husband was away or simply down the hall, taught her magics and tended to every dark flicker that laid inside her heart, drawing them out until they became tidal waves that crushed her in repayment. And all long before she’d committed her own betrayal that landed her in an underground mine for decades, all to end in a paltry death at the hands of a savior. Whatever the hell that was.
Now she’s stricken with these old memories growing anew. As if one kiss somehow uprooted them, replanting them deep in her bones once again, awash in sunlight and growing like vines that no matter how much she chopped at them, only broke off and grew in three new directions. She would be consumed if she let them. If she didn’t set them ablaze soon and for good. And yet there she was, still sitting in Gold’s cabin, alone with her old flame, treading dangerously close to opening her mouth to say something that lacked all spite.
“Perhaps it was easier when I was something you found especially impressive.” It was not a line to drag some sort of compliment or reassurance out for her own sake, it was simply the truth. Now they were more equal than they’d ever been then, she wasn’t a girl any longer, and Maleficent no longer found even herself to be quite so extraordinary as she once had. Other things had become more important long after their mutual fondness had turned to rot, and with that lost to her she once again felt incomplete. Much as she had when Regina had first wandered into her castle. Though this loss was not something so easily fixed with a burning tree. Nothing would fix it, unless Snow herself were tied to one.
Without comment on the other drink being left across the room as Regina once again took her seat, Maleficent rose to fetch it for herself, keeping her back turned for a moment as she took one more misstep.
“For what it’s worth, I am glad you’re here Regina. You’re an invaluable addition to our alliance. And if my predictions are right, it will only be you and I in the end.”
Yes in truth she’d never held all that much trust in Ursula or Cruella’s commitment, nor did she care for being back in tow with the Dark One’s plans. It was likely he would commit betrayal once again, and just like the last time she would escape unscathed. That left only Regina. And whatever it was her happy ending consisted of.