seen from Japan
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from Finland
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seen from Singapore
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
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seen from Australia
seen from United States
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~~hey domini. your ancestor is pretty cold towards seadwellers huh~~
“Yeaaaa, probably should have mentioned that sooner don't know why the fuckin bitter old bitch hates em’ so much, should see some of the shit I found written bout them. Found a little black book some pages have been ripped out though, but can you believe she had the nerve to call them murders?”.
@the-multiverse-crew
Swan Queen Storybits # 2
OUAT - Labyrinth Story
30th Anniversary of Labyrinth
“Will you please” Emma barged into the dining room with no warning with Henry tagging along behind her, “tell Henry that there is no such thing as the Goblin King.”
Zelena dropped the spoon she was feeding the baby with and Regina rushed over to Henry. She almost clapped her hands over his ears the way she had when he was a little boy.
“Are you out of your mind, Miss Swan?” She looked over Henry to make sure he wasn’t hurt. “Mentioning The King when there are children in the room!”
Zelena, similarly shaken, picked the baby up and rushed out of the room. She was muttering something that Regina assumed was an obscenity in Oz.
Emma’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me? You guys are kidding me. It’s a movie from the 80s. It has Bowie in it. It isn’t real.”
“Grandma is Snow White and you actually met Elsa. Is the Goblin King really that much of a stretch?”
“Henry!” Regina looked around and stretched her magical senses out, just in case. “We don’t mention The King.”
Emma shifted from foot to foot. “But what if, you know as a joke, I said the uh words from the movie.” She looked away, “And maybe sang the Dance Magic Dance song?”
Regina sighed, it had been more than a month since they’d almost died. She kissed Henry on his forehead (level with her own when she was wearing heels). “Sweetheart, I need you to stay with your Aunt Zelena to make sure she doesn’t destroy anything or anyone while we’re gone.”
“Gone?” Emma gaped at her, “What do you mean?”
Regina sighed, sometimes Emma’s Charming genes were far too dominant.
“We have exactly thirteen hours, minus the time you’ve already wasted, to save your brother.”
Emma’s wide eyed stare was almost cute.
“Come along, Miss Swan.”
***
She hadn’t been surprised that Jefferson had made a new hat. She hadn’t even been surprised that there had been a magical passage to The Labyrinth in the magical hat. What had surprised her was that he cooperated so easily. He hadn’t even tried to make a deal or be tricky. He had seemed oddly sympathetic to their situation. Maybe it was the fact that he had lost and had Grace returned to him, or something else. The way he looked at Regina, with something like concern in his eyes, it weirded Emma out.
But-they were sort of on a timeline and Emma had to get her brother back so she didn’t have a lot of time to think about it.
“It’s creepy here.” She grumbled for what seemed like the eightieth time. They had made it through the hat and into the Goblin King’s realm. The maze was there,but it was all so different than the movie.
First off: there was no Hoggle, no Ludo, and no Sir Didymus, which was a total bummer. Secondly: It was much darker than she’d expected. She hadn’t exactly expected it to be exactly like the Henson movie, but even the sky was dark-like ink. There were no stars, just a rainbow glow that was carved into the sky, like claw marks. It was eerie. The whole place was more like a Burton acid trip than the film she’d loved.
Even Regina, former Evil Queen, seemed creeped out. Her only comment about it was that she didn’t like mazes. Which, didn’t actually make much sense, but Emma knew better than to probe further. Regina had clammed up, closing in on herself. Her arms were wrapped tight around her own midsection. They passed through different sections of the maze. It was cobbled together out of stone and hedges and sometimes wood or even large metal and crystal shards. So far there had been no bog of everlasting stench or trap doors, but Emma was still being cautious. She had brought her father’s sword along, just in case.
“Regina?”
The other woman jerked like she had been startled.
“Yes, Miss Swan?” Time was weird here, and even though her watch said it had only been four hours, Emma was tired and hungry and scared. She was fucking scared. Day-tripping through her fave cult film wasn’t fun anymore.
“He’s okay, right? Neal, I mean? The Goblin King won’t hurt him, that part of the movie is right, right?”
This was all her fault. The kid had been screaming non-stop and all the memories of Henry at that age were fake and she didn’t know how to stop him and she had just been fooling around. She hadn’t known. She really really hadn’t known.
“We’re going to get him back, Emma. I promise.”
Regina was suddenly in her space, and Emma could feel the warmth coming off of her body. She could smell her, she could feel her Regina-ness. It calmed her down.
“Okay.”
She pulled Regina’s hand into her own.
“Thank you, for coming along. For doing this for me.”
Regina smiled, it was a small gesture, but genuine. It went all the way to her dark eyes and they glimmered. “Of course.”
Emma stepped forward, ready to continue, but didn’t let go of Regina’s hand. They walked together through the maze, hand in hand.
***
Neal reached for the floating bubble. No doubt because he recognised the women it showed within it.
“They certainly have gotten further than I expected, Little Prince.”
The little boy let out a string of babble that was almost words.
“Well that is a little presumptuous of you, but I will take it under advisement.”
The Goblin King was sprawled across the throne with Neal.
Ugly, mal-formed creatures bustled and scuffled all over the throne room. The Goblin King paid them little mind. “Another few hours and you’ll be another goblin-just like the rest. No thanks to your sister.”
Neal let out an indignant squeak as if he understood.
“Well, perhaps you are right.” The Goblin King stood. “They do seem more capable than most. Perhaps a distraction is in order. The floating crystal ball turned into a perfectly formed, deep red apple. The Goblin King nodded and then with a flick of a finger, sent it away.
“They’ll be so distracted-so wrapped up in what they both deny themselves that they will forget all about you.”
field work
[ 2/26/21 ]
Viola closes her office door behind her and lets out a breath. As a matter of course, she checks the shades over the windows before going to sit down at her desk. She doesn’t actually have any paperwork to do right now; she finished all of today’s before she and Mireille sat down for their evening chess game.
Does she want to return to field work?
Perhaps not. Perhaps not in the way that she used to. It might be time for a change.
Chisako is sixteen, a year and a half younger than Louis Greywater, a boy who is already an initiate. She knows her daughter has been biding her time until she turns eighteen, waiting for the day Viola will permit her to join the Order of Whispers. She suspects that Chisako will bloom in the Order, the same way that Mireille has. But Chisako is still young enough to be enchanted by the magic and the mystery of it all, and Viola has done all she can to keep the cruel weight of the world off of her daughter’s shoulders for as long as possible. Chisako knows what to expect, but does she understand it? Truly? It seems impossible that she could.
Viola traces her fingers along the surface of her desk, following the grain of the wood. Her papers have been locked away; there is nothing incriminating in sight. Her seal - and she checks, to be certain - is secure inside its secret compartment between one desk drawer and the next. It could be anyone’s office.
‘Paperwork is the backbone of a company.’
It could be anyone’s office.
Oh, poor Mireille, trying so hard to find the correct words of comfort for the situation. Are there correct words? Viola isn’t certain, but she deeply appreciates the effort all the same. Her protégée has grown so much. She had thought it would be years before she had to confront this situation, when her daughter came of age and joined the Order. She had thought she had more time to prepare.
She had thought, perhaps, that after all these years, therapy might have worked some miracle for her shaking hands, for that seeping panic. But no: Viola is as she was before. Her last outing proved that much.
How can she stand in front of the bullet, the knife, the arrow, the bolt, the oncoming blow, how can she be there to protect her girls if her own body is not to be trusted? Because these girls, her girls, her bright and clever girls are Tyria’s future... and Viola?
Viola is a relic of the past.
She ran.
She did not run.
She could not run, and she could only run. An error. An oversight. It would be corrected.
For now...
She looked to the dust-grey sky, and smiled.
Scenaristicka Irena. @irenakrcelic . . . . . . . . . . #scriptwriting #workshopping #gledaonica #scenaristickaradionica #scenaristika #storybits #irenakrcelic #crnimacak (at Caffe bar Crni mačak)
Swan Queen Storybits #3
Practical Magic - OUAT Story
Cursed
Once Upon A Time there was a Miller’s Daughter who had the gift of magic. She was the most powerful witch in the colonies, it was rumored she had to power to control hearts. People admired her beauty and feared her power. She cared little for the opinions of others, though. She had the power of magic and that was enough for her. All magic, though, has a price. Perhaps she could control hearts, but not her own. One spring day, between storms, she fell in love and that was her undoing.
She fell in love, wonderfully and hopelessly in love, with a powerful man. He was an elder in the Church and owned more land than they eye could see. He owned ships and controlled trade. He was handsome and kind to her. He smiled when others scowled and tucked flowers behind her ear. He was married to another woman, though.
Love, innocent and bright, over-rode her senses, and she was with him despite his wife. She thought that their love, true love, would protect them. She thought he would protect her. She thought he would protect them, when she found out she was with child.
He did not.
When the Church Elders interrogated her and branded her a harlot and worse, he stood with them, silent and disapproving. He betrayed her. He had never loved her.
She carried the child in sorrow and solitude. When she gave birth her screams echoed in her late father’s empty hovel. She gave birth to a little girl and her entire world changed. She had never known love, true love, until that moment. She nursed her daughter and swore two things. That her daughter would never want as she did, never be wretchedly poor and cold. Then, as she nuzzled the newborn she spoke an incantation to protect her daughter from the pain of love and the men who toyed with women’s hearts.
Only the spell was a curse. The Mills Witch, as the nearby inhabitants called her, never loved again. She raised her daughter in sorrow. The girl grew up in grace and beauty and, despite her mother’s many warnings, she fell in love and married. Four months after the birth of her own daughter, though, her husband died. So began The Mills Curse.
That is not this story. This story takes place generations later and it begins with two sisters and a wish.
***
It was a beautiful day. The sky was a sharp winter blue and the New England sun shined bright but didn’t quite cut through the cold. The grass was frosted over and the ground was hard underfoot. The graveyard was silent except for the Preist’s token words. Though Henry had been beloved by the community, no one attended his funeral. Storybrooke did not mourn the cursed.
Cora Mills stood just behind her daughters. She was a beautiful woman, slight in stature but graceful. She knew she was still young, still vital, but she felt old-centuries old. The weight of the curse pressed on her shoulders. This was the second husband she had buried, and the loss clawed at her: sharper and stronger than the first time. Her girls stood hand in hand, both dressed in black as the coffin that held the man they both called “Daddy” was lowered into the ground.
That was why it hurt more. When John, her first husband, had died her oldest had only been a babe in arms. She’d been far too small to understand what she had lost.
Henry, unlike John, had been a good man, a kind man. He had raised both girls as if they were his own, even though it was very obvious that fair skinned and red-haired Zelena was not his child. Regina, olive skinned and as dark haired as her father was-had been, was six, Zelena was only barely eight. They had both been happy little Daddy’s Girls who thought Henry had hung the moon and all the stars. Henry had loved her and their girls and hadn’t given two damns what anyone else thought about The Curse. He hadn’t believed in it. It had still taken him, just as it had John, and her own father, and her grandfather.
The Curse took and took and could not be broken. She knew that now. She had doubted, for a few glorious years, she had believed more in their family than the curse. Two times she had let herself fall in love. Two times the curse had taken her love away. Cora knew that two times was too many. No more husbands, no more deaths, no more love for her. Love, the last tear she allowed herself to shed slid down her cheek, was weakness. She had to be strong. She laid a hand on either of her daughter’s heads. She had to be strong for her girls, curse or no. She had to make them understand and make them believe in the curse. She had to brand it into their young minds so they wouldn’t suffer: Love is weakness.
**
It was late, the Mickey Mouse clock read almost midnight. Zelena twisted around only to find her little sister missing from their shared bed. "Gina!“ She sat up and looked around. Their room was lit by a nightlight and the moon. It was a full moon and their big window was wide open. The curtains flapped in the breeze. Regina, the smallest girl in second grade, had climbed out their large window and onto the steep roof. And people thought *she* was the crazy sister. Zelena pushed the quilt off and tossed her neatly braided red hair over her shoulder. She had to pull Regina back inside before she fell and died. She bit her lip, she didn’t want Regina to be hurt and she really didn’t want her to die. She tiptoed out of bed, "what are you doing?” Her voice was a whisper. Mama’s bedroom was right across the hallway and she always knew when they were misbehaving. It was magic, Zelena knew it.
“Sis!” She hurried over to the window and her jaw dropped open when she saw what Regina had done.
She had three candles precariously placed around her, a pile of apple blossoms and a sheet of paper. Her signet ring hung off a chain, just like Zelena’s. Daddy had given them each a ring for Christmas. It had the Mills Family seal on it because he said that they should never be ashamed of who they were. Zelena tugged at her own ring, a little anxious.
"Mama is gonna be mad if she sees you doing-whatever it is you’re doing.“
Regina looked over her shoulder, her own braid had come loose in the breeze, dark tendrils whipped around her face, "I’m beating the curse.”
Zelena wrinkled her nose, “Why? I thought you said you never wanted to fall in love.” She parroted her sister’s own words back at her. She boosted herself up onto the window sill and carefully climbed out. The roof’s shingles were cold and rough on her bare feet Maybe her sister was crazy, but she wouldn’t let her be crazy alone.
Regina smiled sadly, “I don’t. That’s why I’m casting this.” She nodded her head at the thick book, their mother’s, that rested on the window sill. They weren’t supposed to do magic without their mother, but Daddy had always laughed when they had light fights and made their dollies dance. He’d called them his Little Witches.
“Amas Veritas?” Zelena frowned, “I don’t get it.” Regina was better at figuring out the old timey magic words then she was.
Regina lit the candles one by one by gently blowing on them. The flame was small but bright, just like her sister. "It means true love. If I cast a spell for someone who can’t possibly exist, then I can’t fall in love with them so I’ll be safe.“
Zelena blew out a puff of breath, she hated The Cure. "How do you know he won’t exist?”
“She.” Regina corrected, “The spell always kills boys but never girls. So my True Love will be a girl.”
Zelena wanted to argue, but also didn’t want to discourage her sister. It was the first time Gina had stopped crying since their Daddy had died.
“She will give me a son.” Which was impossible since part of the curse was that Mills women only had daughters, never sons. There hadn’t been a male Mills in their entire history. "And will travel from far away, lead by a wish. She’ll be strong and kind, whistle my favorite song, be able to flip pancakes in the air, and ride a horse backwards.“
Regina looked up at the stars, "Her favorite shape will be a star and she’ll have one green eye and one blue.”
Zelena giggled a little, "She definitely sounds like Princess Charming.“
Regina held the apple blossom in her cupped hands and blew it into the night sky, letting her spell float away with it. "Exactly. She’s a fairytale, a dream, so I will never find her and I will never fall in love.”
Zelena sighed, “But I want to fall in love. I want to know what it’s like. I want to feel it and enjoy the ride. I want it to be wild and exciting.” Because if she didn’t marry them, maybe they wouldn’t die. That was the real way to beat The Curse.
They sat there, together under the full moon, and thought about love magic and their hopes for the future. Daddy had alway said they’d had big futures. Big futures for little girls.
***
“Lena, you’re going to fall and break your neck!”
Regina stood at their window, in her pajamas, and watched her sister climb out of it. She worried at her ring and both hoped and dreaded her mother coming back early. At eighteen, her sister was everything that Regina wasn’t. She was wild, carefree, tall and beautiful, and brave. Zelena was foolishly, and sometimes wickedly, brave.
“I’ll be fine, Gina.” She pulled her bag through the window and then paused. “I’m a Mills, tough as nails you know.”
Regina smiled a little, but didn’t stop a tear from slipping down her cheek.
“But I won’t be around to help you if you need it.”
Only this time she wasn’t going to run around Storybrooke raising hell with Ruby Lucas. It was a boy. His name was August, he had a motorcycle and Zelena swore she loved him. They were going to have wonderful adventures together. They were going to see the world.
“It’s going to be okay, Gina.”
She grinned and quirked a brow, “Hold on.”
Zelena stood and walked over to the edge of the roof, “Darling throw me your pocket knife.”
After a moment she came back to the window and flicked a small knife open. She slid the blade across her palm. Red blood welled up. Before Regina could say a word, she winced as Zelena cut her own hand.
“Your blood.” Zelena clapped their bleeding hands together, “My blood.” They held their hands tightly together. “My blood.” Zelena smiled, “Our blood. Our magic. There’s nothing stronger than blood magic, Sis.”
They sat there, hands clasped, under the stars.
“Take care of yourself, Lena.”
The redhead grinned, “You know me, I always meet trouble head on with a fireball in either hand.”
Regina pulled her into a tight hug. “I love you.”
Zelena hugged her right back, “Love you too.”
Regina watched Zelena toss her bag to the ground the shimmy down the trellis. Zelena jumped into August’s arms and he spun her around. Zelena looked happy.
Regina watched until the motorcycle went out of sight with Zelena holding tightly to her boyfriend. Regina kept watching the full moon alone. She wrapped her arms around her knees and looked out across Storybrooke. The small town was laid out in front of her, the same view that every Mills had seen since the founding of their town. She understood why Zelena was leaving. The Mills were pariahs in Storybrooke, hated and bullied from cradle to grave, quite literally. They didn't hang witches anymore, but they didn’t like them either. Regina had heard the same slur all of her life.
Witch, Bitch, Cursed, Evil.
They hated her for the magic within her. Her mother had used their hatred, their fear. She seemed to thrive on it. Cora Mills was made out of steel and had told the over and over that they had to be strong.
Regina didn’t know how to be strong like her mother. She didn’t know how to be brave like Zelena. Regina just wanted to be normal. She didn’t want adventure. She didn’t want love. She didn’t even want magic. She just wanted to be Regina.
Time passed, two years slipped by with a few letters from Zelena. Regina went to college far enough away that Mills was just another name. No one had known about her magic or her family curse. She had been just another co-ed. It had been the most normal she’d ever felt.
Then, degree in hand, she had returned to Storybrooke. She joined her mother at the accounting firm that Cora and Henry had built together. She buried herself in numbers, tax codes, audits and (ins). She wore well cut suits and reading glasses, read self-improvement books. She did Pilates and adopted a tortoiseshell cat named Buttons from the shelter. She was normal. No magic. No curse. No adventure. No love. Regina Mills was perfectly normal and content to live her life alone.
Then she met Daniel.
It happened quickly, just like the romance novels she would never admit to reading. She had finally agreed to go to one of Kathryn’s Ladies Nights. She had turned the blonde down time and time again, so just once. She relented this just once. I was just a few ladies drinking watered-down margaritas at the local watering hole. It would be dull, Regina had assumed. She hadn’t expected to meet anyone. Everyone in Storybrooke knew who she was. They knew what she was. No man would ask her dance, unless they were fulfilling a dare.
He’d looked up from his pool game and smiled at her. His smile had caught her attention from across the room. She had always told herself she wasn’t ever going to be a wake-kneed damsel who was attracted to blue eyes and a dark five o’clock shadow. Daniel was funny, though. He was smart and silly. He called her beautiful and smart. He bought her wine to drink and showed her pictures of his beloved horses. He didn’t believe in magic or curses. He didn’t even like Halloween. He was a normal guy who liked baseball and documentaries about space. He smelled like hay and Old Spice. He didn’t care that her last name was Mills.
How could she not fall in love with him?
***
Dear Lena,
It is exactly like all the magazines and romance movies. Daniel is everything I could hope for. He is kind and smart. Mother hates him, of course. Love is weakness, after all. It doesn’t feel like weakness. Lena, it feels like freedom. While you were visiting Los Angeles in June we were married. I wish you could have been here, Lena. We had it outside, in Porter’s Field. The flowers were all blooming. It was perfect. It was better than magic.
Dearest Lena,
We got the house. Mother did not like it, of course, but it’s a nice normal house on Cove Lane-the one Mister Marco re-built just two years ago. It’s even got a picket fence, if you believe that. No one screams names at me anymore. No one calls me a witch or a bitch or anything else. I’m normal. Things are changing here. You’ve seen the world, but I swear Storybrooke has seen the light.
My Darling Sister,
Or should I correct that to new Auntie. The adoption went through and I am thrilled to tell you that Henry Jr has finally come home. Mother acted like she didn’t approve, but she has already started spoiling him. He’s perfect, my Little Prince. Daniel is a great father, so patient and happy to change diapers and deal with spit up. I was afraid he wouldn’t want to adopt, but he loves Henry no matter what. You can see it in his eyes. Come home soon, Zelena, so you can meet the newest member of the Mills clan.
Dear Lil Gina,
I hope Junior got the gifts I sent him.
It all went just like it was supposed to, just like all the magazine and romance books said. They went on dates and fell in love. They got married in June a meadow full of flowers, and after a year they adopted a baby boy and named him Henry, after her father. It was like a fairy tale and she forgot all about the curse.
The curse, though, didn’t forget about her. She got the call on November second, it was a rainy day and she’d stayed home with Henry because he’d had the flu all week. Daniel had promised to stop by the grocery on his way home from the stables, to pick up some more cough syrup and orange juice. Daniel, in his sensible sedan, had never stood a chance against the drunk tourist in a giant SUV, not on the slick and curvy coast road that bordered the cliffs. When Sheriff Graham had come to their small house with a picket fence with his hat in his hands, she had known. She had known before he said a single word. She had known, Regina would later tell herself, the moment it had happened. The lights had dimmed and the air had tasted like sulfur. Her Daniel was dead, another victim of The Curse.
Daniel’s sister, Mary Margaret, slapped her across the face at the funeral home. “You Evil Witch!” Regina had been too numb, too wrapped up in her grief, to fight back. Henry had stood and watched. In that moment his happy seven-year-old world had come crashing down. Though she hadn’t practiced magic since her childhood, it was her heritage, and she had never lied about that to Henry. Now he looked at her as a witch, too. A Mills Witch who had cursed his father.
Widowed, heartbroken, and unable to keep up the mortgage on her own, Regina did something she had promised herself she would never do. She and her son moved into Mills Manor. The white manor that stood high up on the hill overlooking Storybrooke had been built, supposedly, by the first Mills Witch and had been in her family ever since.
The night of the funeral, Zelena came back. Regina had known she would, so she’d left the window open. The wind blew through, cold as ice, but just before midnight, she felt a warm body slide into the same bed they had shared their entire childhood. Zelena closed the window behind her. She was older, wiser, wilder, but still her sister. When they needed help, they would always find each other. They were sisters by blood, magic and love. Zelena would always be there for her. She helped Regina through the first incredibly hard month without Daniel. She wasn’t sure she would have survived otherwise.
As quickly as she’d arrived, she left, though. Zelena never stayed in Storybrooke longer than she had to. Henry had pouted and Cora had sighed, but Regina knew she would be back. It was part of their curse, Mills never left Storybrooke for long.
***
Swan Queen Storybits #1
OUAT-Hunger Games AU
Once Upon A Time, Emma Swan had been a nobody. When President Cora Mills put the gold laurel on her head, Emma wanted to spit in her face. She was the orphan from District 12 who had shocked the nation. She hadn’t had any sponsors, everyone had counted her out until she had killed five other kids in The Arena. She had won the Hunger Games. The odds had been against her since she had been born and abandoned by the rusty fence in District 12. Now she was Victor, and she wished she was dead. Cora Mill’s ice cold smile only reinforced the knowledge that the worst was yet to come. The blood of other children, children who had been forced to fight, on her hands, she did not feel like a winner.
Years Later
“Why do you care? What do you try to pick them out a year in advanced? Try to find the prettiest or strongest so you can put on the best show for The Capital?” I saw you looking at them, talking to their Mentors, what do you want to make sure they plucked the right kids up?”
The smack resounded in the room, a sharp skin on skin slap. “You don’t know anything about me, Emma Swan.”
“I know you’re hiding something. I know that you seem more worried about District 10 than those two kids that we have under our care right now. What 12 isn’t good enough for you?”
“My son turned eleven this year.”
Emma blinked, surprised to find out the woman had a child. “What does some spoiled Capitol brat have to do with anything?”
Regina wrapped her arms around her own waist, “He’s not in The Capital.” She looked away, but Emma could see the tears building in her dark eyes, “He’s in District 10 with his father’s parents and he turned eleven this year. He was-he could have.” Her voice shook, “And I watched the recording, shaking just as much as any other mother in any District. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. He wasn’t picked-this year.”
Emma reached out and touched her arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
Regina laughed bitterly, “No one does. Mother couldn’t allow such a scandal. The President’s daughter knocked up with a stable boy’s bastard. She wouldn’t even let me hold him. I agreed to do this.” She raised her hand and swept it around the room. “To become apart of this abhorrent practice in return for my son’s life.”
Emma took a deep breath, “And his father?”
Regina was trembling, barely able to make eye contact, “He was killed in front of me. Shot execution style in the same stable we secretly met in. The baby was delivered to his parents. I send what I can, not enough to be suspicious. I only get to go once a year-for the reaping. I sneak from the train to see him. He is always asleep. I can’t even carry a picture with me. If mother even thought that I would dare to defy her-I can’t imagine it. She moved me to 12 to make sure I couldn’t protect him from The Reaping. More punishment. Another show of her power over me-over everyone in Panem.”
Emma had never imagined that life in the glorious Capital could be as painful as anywhere else. She couldn’t help herself, she wrapped her arms around the small brunette. “What’s his name?” Regina leaned against her, “I wanted to name him Daniel, after his father-but I couldn’t risk that. Daniel was painted as a martyr-a victim of The Capitol’s cruelty. To name our child after him-too dangerous. I named him Henry-after my own father. The other person, other than Daniel, who ever loved me. Mother says that love is weakness. I am too weak for her-too soft hearted. While my sister watched the Games with an almost sadistic glee from the time we were children, I hid my face and wept. Mother hated it. Mother hates-”
She shook her head and pulled away. “That’s enough, Miss Swan.”
Emma didn’t let go. “No.”
“Let me go.”
“No. This is the last night before we watch those children go into the Arena. Our last night of peace. Our last night of meals without guilt and sleep without nightmares.”
“I don’t want to sleep tonight.”
“And I don’t want to leave you alone. Not tonight.”
Regina turned in her arms, “The last person that held me like this-they died-because of me. Because” She pressed her hands to Emma’s shoulders, fingers curling into muscle. “of this.”
Emma looked at Regina, from her soulful eyes to the scar on her lip, her graceful neck, her small stature. She memorized the way Regina felt in her arms, how she fit perfectly against her.
“I don’t care what they do to me. I don’t want to let go of you. I don’t want to stop.”
Regina tilted her head back. “Then don’t”
I’m gonna empty out my odds-and-ends file on Gdocs. There will be several SwanQueen story bits.
I’m gonna use #storybits if you don’t want to deal with it.
