“Maleficent?” The word rolled off her tongue in alarm, hushed and afraid. Her entire body moved forward as her hand was pulled tightly in the woman’s grasp. Something was wrong – she was… hurt? Regina couldn’t tell more than what she sensed, and none of it felt promising. Immediately thoughts that this was somehow her fault flooded her mind, twisting her gut until she felt sick, and pricking at her heart painfully. All concern for herself vanished. Her pain, her victory, the glory of having finally done something right. All of it was overshadowed by whatever might be wrong with her friend.
Gripping tighter against the hand that now had the woman’s forehead pressed to it, Regina frowned deeply. “What’s wrong?” She quietly inquired, almost afraid to hear the answer. What if this had been her doing? Perhaps she’d – don the spell wrong. Or in the selfishness of her pain, she’d forced Maleficent to do something she was unable. All of the possibilities tormented her, making a tremble of apprehension set out through every limb, shaking visibly before the one person she admired above all others.
Not even her words of pride could sate the shame and fear Regina was consumed by. She tried to offer a weak smile, but it was overcome by a constricting heart. And when the request came, she wasted no time bolting to her feet and hurrying over to take up the robe. Returning to the pool’s side, she held it open in offering, turning her head away to grant Maleficent the privacy she deserved. “I’m – sorry.” She whispered, voice cracking with emotion. “If this was me… if I did this to you… I’ll take the burns back.” The decisiveness of her tone surprised even her. She had once been quite selfless, eager to see others thrive and flourish. Made happy by the smile of a boy and wind whipping past her face as she rode her prized stallion through the open fields. But lately she had been so consumed by hatred, fear, and hurt that she forgot she was capable of caring for another in this way. Of course she loved Jefferson, but once he was gone, the darkness was all she had. It was easy to forget….
Regina’s voice was distant, somehow delayed when it met her ears, like it had taken its time fighting through the dull throb she heard somewhere deep and dark when her eyes closed. She swallowed thickly against nothing, the burn of fire having risen into her throat, or perhaps it was only the nausea. Whatever it was it, hurt, and fire was not something that hurt her anymore.
“No—”, she rasped hoarsely, throwing all her strength into the single word, moved suddenly to make certain that she knew this wasn’t her fault. Though in some sense it may have been, but her new role as a magical mentor seemed to instill some need to encourage her protege, not knock her down after one spell had a harmful affect back on its creator.
“This wasn’t you, I’m just — tired.” She rose out of the bath, scalding water still dripping off of her as she guided one hand and then the other into the arms of the robe, wrapping the fabric tight around herself with a silken knot as she stepped out entirely. Her legs seemed more than enough to hold her, which she was thankful for. It was not a purely physical weakness she felt, it was something deeper, a weakness in her soul, as if she had one, a deficiency far below the surface, that had little at all to do with her body. It was her magic that was still weak, the source found in flame and yet when it mattered most she still found it difficult to draw out at will. She herself needed encouragement, and even then it wasn’t enough to change the often feeble outcome.
“You will do no such thing,” she answered late, turning a harsh gaze at the girl, one that lacked almost all harshness. The care she felt for her was deeper than even she knew, showing itself in strange ways and unexpected places. Glancing back at the still filled tub she couldn’t bear to see to it. It had grown nearly unbearable before she’d stepped out, as though the fire in her was receding, and were she to touch it now who knows what harm it could do. She had been right about one thing, she was tired, and rest seemed like the smartest step to take.
Turning to leave her bathing room, she knew Regina would be right on her heels, could hear her speaking but it was still far off, slow to reach her through the thick cloud of weakness she wore. She reached the bed and climbed atop it, sighing deeply and then exhaling softly once her back met the mattress. All at once sound seemed to pick back up again, rushing in quick and loud.