fondofapples | Inbox -- Genessia

Regina Mills
~~Queen~~ ~~Mayor~~ Mother
Sorceress
Fond of Plants

"You've reached the inbox of Regina Mills. Leave a message. If it's urgent, it's probably too late."

(text, voice, video, action, ooc planning if necessary for Genessia only)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

fondofapples

Her eyes went wide, and her heart began to speed and squeeze so hard she thought she might be having heart failure. Because he couldn't possibly mean (could he?) what he'd said, she managed to extricate herself carefully from his grip without jostling his injured arm and then sat back to stare at his face until he opened his eyes.

"Tell me that's an ill-chosen metaphor," she demanded. "Promise me it is."

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil was surprised by the way she drew back, the sudden tension in her--and when she asked him about what he said, he relaxed with a smile.

"Ill chosen metaphor--sort of." he reassured her. Shifting his arm experimentally, he was surprised to find it hurt a little less--above and beyond Regina's charm to dull the pain. It let him rest his bad hand on her knee, still comfortably submerged, as he spoke.

"Regina...everything you believe you were as the Evil Queen? I still am. What wasn't cut out of me as a soldier and a fire mage I killed when I became an assassin. All that's left are...scraps, and I know now that I fought so hard to hold onto them, despite the wrath of my king, because I was saving them for you. We met...and I let those scraps go."

He lowered his gaze, finding her hand with his good one, meshing their fingers together, watching the way they linked.

"In the Five Realms, those who worship the Ember believe that when the Sun Goddess ascends the sky each day with her son by her side, the souls of the honored dead make that pilgrimage with her. It lets those who've passed on look down on the world and the people they loved, to take comfort in a look at the life they left behind. Those who provoke the wrath of the Sky Maker don't get to ascend into the sky. The Sky Maker drags them down into his earth, where they burn when he rages and rot when he's calm. They never see their world or their loved ones again--it's the worst possible fate a soul can endure."

Lifting his gaze to hers again, he smiled--as warm and as fond as it ever was.

"A day may come when someone hurts you, or crosses you the wrong way...and I will fulfill that oath I made. I'll consecrate myself to shadow--fling whatever tattered goodness I still have right out of me, and I will turn from my final journey to the sky. On that day, I'll piss the Sky Maker off good--and I will do it with a smile."

From:

fondofapples

She listened, remaining quiet even when she wanted to protest, forcing herself still when she wanted to scream. And when he finally finished, she shook her head and grit her teeth.

"You think that makes it better, somehow. That you'll give up the chance to spend an eternity... with me... to avenge me?"

She seethed again, and it was tempting, so tempting, to teleport back to her room and leave him here. Let him feel some small portion of what he threatened by 'selling his soul'.

But instead... "You don't understand. You think because you have me now, because we're both here now, there's time. But you're wrong. Or maybe you understand dahgo means whatever you get it's more than you would have and that's enough.

But it's NOT ENOUGH FOR ME."

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil could only watch her face, confused and struggling to understand why she was so angry, even when she tried to explain. To hear her talk, he was destined for the sky already, and it wasn't the case. She'd seen his heart, how could she be so damn convinced that he was anything more than what she saw, what she'd held in the palm of her hand?

He'd consecrated himself to darkness a long time ago, all he'd done when he met her was find peace with it, accept the uncertainty of whether or not the Sky Maker was already coming for him.

But she mentioned dahgo, and her voice shook with a fury that baffled and stung--and he wasn't sure if there was pain in there or not, but there was enough question that for one instant...she reminded him eerily of the Night Dragon.

* * *

"Do you understand why your comrade died today, little Ember?"

The funeral pyre before them burned. Neil was seventeen.

"No, Great Dragon."

"Geynaz. He opened the vein and surrendered to the dark. He battled a foe he could not beat, and he did it so a woman would love him. He could have been a general one day, but he let his heart bleed out."

"Then why have we sent him to the sky? Isn't the Sky Maker pissed?"

The Night Dragon snickered, shaking his head with tattooed arms folded across his broad chest.

"The Sky Maker himself surrendered to geynaz--he carried a love that would not live unless it was returned. It was the Sun Goddess who found dahgo, as did the Ember when he understood the jealousy his father felt towards him for how deeply the Sun Goddess loved their child. Despite the weakness of the Sky Maker, they loved him without restraint in hopes that one day he would forget his pettiness, and so the sky is theirs. That is the root of dahgo: complete submission to the light through an act of faith."

Neil took a deep breath, unsettled by the impromptu lesson without understanding why.

"I will remember, Great Dragon. Light and dark will never touch me--I will cut out my heart, as you've said."

The Night Dragon said nothing for a long time. Together, they watched the body on the pyre burn...until the Night Dragon's familiar hand on Neil's shoulder startled him into looking up.

His king's face was hard, cold...and somehow, touched by sorrow.

"Make no mistake, little Ember--I will find the means to cleanse you of that gentle nature, of that need for weaknesses like love...but there are mated dragons that never achieve dahgo. It is powerful, if one can remove their heart...and you are as single minded as you are weighed down by weakness. Strip your soul, Neil. That is enough for me. You...you keep your heart. I fear, if you were to cut it out...you might actually succeed."

* * *

Taking a deep breath, Neil looked her dead in the eye.

"I won't take back my oath." he insisted, then held up a hand in hopes of forestalling any protest. "But, I...will give that oath over to you. I told you when you met me, Regina, men like me don't have control, they have leashes, and they have them for a reason--I have one for a reason, because the unspeakable is what I do. This is--it's my way of taking the evil I'm capable of and using for something good. And obviously, it won't work because it upsets you. So...dahgo. I'll let you be my eyes--I'll let you hold my leash."

He paused, then with a huff of air he mimed ripping his heart out of his chest, the way she had that first night.

"I'm not--giving you my heart. Just my word." He blinked a little, shaking his head. "And that's...kind of a big deal, because for a long-ass time, it was the only thing I had that I could call my own."

Lifting their joined hands, he brought them to his lips and kissed her fingers.

"And now it's yours. Okay?"

From:

fondofapples

It was proof of how deeply he'd marked her with his love that she let him have her hands when she wanted to fight, kill, flee. Her forearms twitched with the strain of her hands not curling into talons to rake across his face following the ringing slap he deserved. And for the second time tonight, she found herself plunged back into that same shrieking fury that ravaged her will to be good, to be kind, to do right--that fury she'd felt at no one in her life except the people she loved enough to hate.

He kept on about how he couldn't be trusted with control, and it made her think with love and longing of Robin who'd seen Marian and wanted to be good. But even as she did, she recalled how often in a short time, she'd leaned into her love for Robin to be good when she feared herself. Now Neil wanted to lean into her, but didn't he understand how laughable that was? How weak she was?

And yet... here Neil was. Looking her dead in the eyes even though flame had to be wreathing her pupils by now. Trusting her to be the good one, the morality, the wisdom. Maybe not wanting to lose him to the dark would be enough, when they had Evie and Charlie. Arya, bless her, would follow them gleefully into the dark.

The thought of Evie, her bright, beautiful faith, so like Henry's was what saved them both, just then. Because instead of flinging his 'leash' and his word back into his face, she broke fear's paralyzing hold on her ribs and remembered to breathe. And with the air filling her lungs and leaving it again, the steam from the springs quenched her fire. The fingertips he kissed didn't claw but rested lightly against his lips.

Regina sighed and her eyes slipped closed briefly. It wasn't their darkness that scared her, no matter how she wanted to make this into a simple argument about leashes and who was qualified to hold them. It wasn't losing him to the darkness that she feared. It was losing him. Period.

When she opened her eyes again, they'd softened and glimmered again in the half-light, although this time the tears did streak her cheeks. Her voice was likewise soft, resonant with acceptance, but also grief and growing exhaustion when she spoke. "Even if you don't understand it, please remember, Neil, there's nothing that can hurt me more than losing you."

And the children, but both of them understood that.

From:

hellorhighwater

The fire in her eyes was nothing he feared, nothing he was capable of judging. He loved her fury and her darkness, the bloodlust she conquered every single day--and he loved that she conquered it, too. She was shadow and sun, filled with love and lethal as a sword...and even with that look in her eye, the fire creeping out, the way her fingers shook with rage, he would have trusted her even if she held his heart in her hand.

She was dark, she was dangerous...but there wasn't a thing about her in his eyes that was evil, that had ever been evil. Curses and killings be damned.

Whatever battle she fought, she won when she drew a deep breath and shut her eyes. Part of him was almost sad to see the fire go, but when she opened them, she was just Regina again: weary, with tears staining her face--and she was right: he didn't understand it. And he hated not knowing, not understanding, it made him ineffectual and weakened him in ways not even she could fix because without that comprehension, he was the one that was going to end up hurting her.

He wanted to ask why. He wanted to ask her why she didn't understand that preserving her happiness, her love and her beauty and her intricacies with his life was its own form of redemption. He wanted to make her see that loving her, loving anyone, even unto death, made him stronger, surer, more lethal--that the man who had no heart was the man who could not die.

He wanted to make her understand what he did about the sacrifice he was ready to make with serenity and joy: that in his readiness, he had power enough to make sure it never came to pass.

Instead, he just curled his good hand around her nape and pulled her in, tilting his neck so he could press his lips against her forehead.

"The will of the gods upon my tongue: you won't." he vowed against her skin. "Not now. Not ever."

From:

fondofapples

"Until you die trying to save me," she whispered, voice barely audible as she accepted the embrace, the promise, all of it for now.

It was already too much, too soon. And if not too soon, too much for one day, even if this was how they'd been since the minute she'd seen him on the screen in New Dodge. She still didn't know why, exactly, only that from the first minute, he'd slipped past barriers that had been there for half a century at least.

It was too much. She was tired. He was hurt and he needed her. Instead of being what he needed, she kept turning into a shrieking harpy on him.

She slipped her arms around his torso and rested her head on his shoulder again. "I know you'd count your life well-spent, and I want that for you. I just can't..." Lose another mate. "Live through any more loss.

"I'm worried about you. It's making me raw and vicious. I'm sorry."

From:

hellorhighwater

"Don't apologize." Neil admonished, gentle but brooking no argument as he rubbed his good hand up and down her back, resting his cheek against her forehead. "There's a saying the Night Dragon's always repeating back home: 'the one who rises from Hell without sharper talons and a heart of thorns is the corpse that came back on their shield.' And I agree with it. Be raw, be vicious--be mad at me if I fuck up, even if I don't really understand why. I'll figure it out, you'll make me. I may be kind of an idiot, but I'll put it together eventually."

Drawing back a little, he looked down at her, then leaned in to brush a kiss against the bridge of her nose.

"You've lived a life that would kill most people, Angel. If you didn't have issues and hot buttons and a whole lot of complex baggage, you wouldn't have any fuckin' armor. Just...know that I will keep my promise, not to leave you. So long as you promise not to apologize for a damn thing that you are. Passionate, gentle, loving--I'm crazy about it. Vicious, ornery, even murderous--I'm not afraid of it. If you and me were easy? It wouldn't be any fucking fun."

From:

fondofapples

It took awhile, just letting his words wash over her, and then slipping off his lap into the steaming spring, before she could find any answers in herself, anything at all that she wanted to say.

And even so, before she could do that, she reached for his good hand to draw him off the ledge into the chest-deep part of the pool, where he could relax his arm and let his shoulder rest from holding it still and steady.

"I'm not apologizing for what or who I am, just for taking my fear out on you," she said quietly, her voice as soft as her gaze and the brush of her knuckles against his abdomen beneath the water line. "I can't just fight the darkness sometimes, Neil. I have to do it all the time, every day, and that means not giving in to my worst impulses, no matter how excusable they may seem to you."

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil let her pull him further into the water, letting out a breath as his arm relaxed a little, feeling more discomfort in the muscle than the bone, and only from being still so long. The gesture of affection he'd come to know, anticipate, and love reassured him that they were okay, getting back on the same page.

"Not all the time, Regina--just sometimes." he replied, letting his good hand settle on her shoulder. "Some wounds have to drain, and you need to accept that. Being good isn't about being perfect--bottling shit up can knock you off course. I get fear manifesting as anger, I know I do it a lot. I know being who you are ain't easy, but you're not gonna be a hundred percent virtuous all the time, and I swear to you on this beating heart you've held in your hands, I will tell you if you've gone to far. If you're scared and you get too shitty, I'll call you on it. I'm trustin' you to be my eyes...trust me to be an extra pair for you."

From:

fondofapples

Her lips parted, protest already forming because he really didn't understand how this worked with her, but they pressed together again as he spoke--he did understand some of it. Her eyes closed and her head dipped; she exhaled slowly, more shame burning behind her breastbone and in her eyes than anger.

"I know anger needs outlets. And I know good isn't nice. I don't expect that I'll never boil over or lash out," she told him and reached up across her body to cover the hand on her shoulder with her own. She wasn't rejecting his advice, his help, him. "I promise I'll trust you to tell me if you need an apology from me. But my redemption's on me, and sometimes I need to acknowledge crossing a line, even if you don't need me to."

From:

hellorhighwater

"Fair enough." Neil replied with a nod. "Even if I think it's bullshit--and I do, no matter what you did I don't believe there's ever been a truly evil bone in your body--still, I'm not you, so that's totally fair."

Bending, he pressed his nose against the top of her head.

"But nothing you do, or will do going forward, is a thing you will ever do alone." he promised. "Not even chasing down redemption. Not pushing, just promising."

From:

fondofapples

"It doesn't matter whether you call it evil or something else. I need to make what amends I can--" She lifted her gaze to his again, searching for some sign he knew what she felt, something beyond having the right words when she needed them (not that she minded that at all). "This isn't about punishment or judgment. I'm doing this for me."

It was hard to make him understand when even now she wasn't sure she did. She knew who she wanted to be, and it wasn't the person she'd been. That was all.

But she also didn't want to talk about it any more, so she caught his good hand and drew it around her waist. "Still, I'm so grateful to have your support and your help." I love you.

From:

hellorhighwater

"Good." He replied, rolling his eyes up for a moment in mock contemplation before offering an exaggerated nod of "decision," with a smile. "'Cause you're pretty much stuck with it."

Knowing when to keep his mouth shut was a valuable skill in the Night Dragon's court, so he took the invitation when offered: the arm she pulled around her waist, he used to pull her closer.

Then he made the mistake of forgetting why he was there (all her fault, even when they were fighting she made him forget he hurt) and wrapped both arms around her waist, eyes promptly screwing shut with a pained grimace.

"Ember's Shrunken Shriveled Nut Sack!..."

From:

fondofapples

When she realized he wasn't going to push it any farther, she gave a small, pleased sigh and rested her forehead against his breastbone. It was that moment he chose to lift his other arm, and she wasn't quite quick enough to stop him.

The reflexive tensing caught her just before the elaborate curse and only the awareness of how much pain he'd been in kept her from snickering. As it was, she couldn't do much for him except hold him tightly until the flare of pain passed.

"I'd offer to distract you from it," she began and slid a hand over his hip to tug his lower body closer. "But I'm afraid you'll forget and hurt yourself worse. Besides, it's late and you haven't been sleeping." That, she could tell from the bruises beneath his eyes, would have been able to if he hadn't told her as much.

Which led her to thinking how he'd get through the night. "Does aspirin help at all?"

From:

hellorhighwater

Normally, the curl of her fingers over his hip were an invitation he'd gladly take--but he was in pain, and he was exhausted. The springs...well, they'd helped some, along with the heat of Regina's last charm. It hurt like hell, but his vision didn't go grey at the edges and threaten him with the unique and sickly oblivion that came from passing out in agony.

Which meant he took the invitation in far different fashion, pressing his nose against the top of her head instead and letting her nearness distract him from the pain. When she asked about something called aspirin, he thought back...and couldn't really pull anything out of his murky memories of his native world.

"I...don't know?" he drawled uncertainly, lifting his head again. "My metabolism's always eaten through drugs pretty quickly--the pain and sleeping drafts the healers back home have, too. The only stuff I ever remember workin' on me for at least a few minutes was the hard stuff in the hospital. Don't think that was 'aspirin' though. That was--whatchacallit--morphine? Yeah, that was it...wait. Does that stuff also work on Fever? 'Cause they would shove as much of that crap down my throat as they could when a Fever was on me."

From:

fondofapples

"Yes. Aspirin's an anti-inflammatory and a fever reducer." She frowned at the thought there was nothing they could do for his pain that would last more than a few minutes. The price of the dragon fire was too high.

"I have some upstairs. We can try it. And I can summon a heating pad that we can drape over your arm. If we can keep it warm, maybe you can get some sleep," she suggested, hand raised to stroke through the hair at his temple, a gentle gesture that she hoped would soothe his unease. "We can stay down here until you're ready."

Even though the heat from the springs was beginning to be too much for her, she could climb out and sit at the edge comfortably enough. He could lean against her then if he wanted. Really whatever he wanted.

From:

hellorhighwater

"Think I'm ready now." he admitted--though it wasn't the entire truth. He could see the flush of her skin, and he knew he could fucking sleep in this water and probably still get chilly. It was good, but he'd rather warm himself by Regina's heat over that of the spring.

"C'mon." he sighed, rubbing her back with his good hand. "Let's go back to the room--might need some help gettin' this braid outta my hair, you did too good a job."

Which would mean more of her hands in his hair--like now, fingertips running through the loose wisps at his temple and making his eyes droop...he'd pay a king's ransom for more of that, more of those soothing shivers she sent down his spine with the gentle scratch of her nails on his scalp, that tranquil warmth that turned his entire being into liquid honey, and had no idea how to put it into words without sounding stupid.

So, tricking her into playing with his hair it was. Sort of.

From:

fondofapples

That brought the slightest curve of a smile to her lips and kindled a wisp of firelight in her eyes. As if she hadn't figured out by now that the man's hair was the way to his psyche and everything else about him.

"Whatever you need," she murmured to him, and let herself melt against him. As much as he liked holding her, twice that much at least did she love being held--as long as it was her choice. As long as she could take a step back if she needed to and not feel restrained. Right now, even with a fight not five minutes past, she couldn't imagine being even a foot from him if she didn't have to.

Lips pressed softly the shoulder of his injured arm, she focused her will along her arm and then closed imaginary fingers around their things on the ground beyond the pool. Once she'd drawn the bundle back to them, she drew up the mist that coiled and twisted like affectionate serpents and deposited them back in her room.

Gently playful, she pulled back and released the waistband on his shorts. "Do you need help getting out of these, too?"

From:

hellorhighwater

"Ow! Sadist." he teased when she playfully snapped the waistband of his wet trunks, grinning as he bent to steal a kiss with his bad arm cradled against his stomach. "I'd say yes, but that'll turn into a social event, and...I'm into a little pain, just not this kind."

Drawing back, he smiled sheepishly.

"Seriously, I'm good. Uh...can you grab me the black gym shorts outta my bag, though?"

From:

fondofapples

As much as she might've liked to continue the erotic overtures they'd begun with before they made it into the pool, she was glad to hear him saying no. His body needed rest, and she need him to be well.

Leaning very lightly against his good side, she lifted onto her toes to kiss him softly. When she dropped down again, she said, "Just don't get used to me fetching and carrying," with teasing sternness, and turned her back to him to get his shorts.

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil just grinned as she got his shorts, accepting them from her when she turned back around--and before she could release them, pulled her in so he could steal one more kiss, long and lingering.

"I'll make it up to you when I'm back in fighting shape, Beautiful." he assured her with a wink before heading into the bathroom to dry off and change. Emerging a few minutes later, he made a beeline for the bed, just to sit down on the edge so he could rest his arm on one leg, relieving some of the pressure on his shoulder with a small sigh of relief. It was getting bad again...but that sick edge to the pain hadn't come back.

"I think the spring actually did help." he mused, absently rubbing his bad arm with his good hand. "Least I don't feel like I'm gonna pass out anymore."

From:

fondofapples

While he changed, she took a towel to the damp ends of her hair. She'd used enough magic today that it felt important not to use it for unnecessary conveniences, especially when she planned to use several more spells before she slept--if she slept. A shower could wait until morning, so she toweled off and stripped out of the swimsuit, laying it over the towel on the chair of her dressing table while she glanced in the mirror.

Pleased enough with what she saw, she selected the most demure of the nightgowns she had on-hand, a fawn colored silk shift with matching panties--neither of which she'd managed to put on by the time Neil emerged. It wasn't intentional, giving him a show, not tonight, and she felt strangely shy about dressing in front of him. She marked it as odd, but didn't let it slow her down at all, and quickly covered up.

"We'll try keeping it a little too warm so that the dragon-fire can't pull all the heat out of it, but not so hot that it's a challenge," she decided aloud, and proceeded to be briskly efficient (and maybe a little maternal) about pouring a glass of water, retrieving several aspirin, and bringing both to him. "Here, take this. See if it helps at all?"

From:

hellorhighwater

There was something about watching her dress that was strangely intimate--so domestic, that open view of her body not for the taking, but in a private and vulnerable moment that was his and no one else's. It was new and unusual, and he tucked it away with the multitude of other little pieces and moments she gave him the longer they were together.

When she brought over the pills and the water, he took the aspirin first, popping them into his mouth before he accepted the glass of water. It had been a lot of years since he'd swallowed pills, but a couple long swallows along with tipping his head back got them down without issue.

"Sounds good--it's what the healers in Nocturne usually try to do, but it can get tricky." he sighed, passing the glass back to her. "Best I can usually manage is sleeping by the fire--by the hearth in my room at the castle, close enough to a campfire when I travel that I tend to singe a lot of blankets."

From:

fondofapples

"My poor knight," she murmured and bent to kiss his forehead. His skin felt, as always, frighteningly warm against her lips, but she knew by now what was normal for him. He wasn't running too hot, probably because of the springs.

"But I have a plan." She'd been thinking about this on and off since she first went to him, so by this point, she had a fairly good idea of what she wanted to try. And, if she was honest with herself, she felt a little giddy about the possibility it might really help.

Because it had grown late, she quickly flipped off all the overheads and peripheral lights, leaving only those on the nightstands. Then she returned to the bed and joined him on it. Conjuring could be tricky, which was why she preferred summoning when she could, but she had no access to what she wanted here, so conjuring it would be.

During the Ice Queen's visit, when Emma had grown so chilled, Mary Margaret had tucked a handy little heating pad in the microwave. Regina recalled it had been made from rice and wheat and a lovely soft flannel, and it released the scent of spiced chai. It wasn't the proper size, but that was easily enough adjusted, and she mentally added two soft loops that could be adjusted to hold the pad in place.

It took several quiet moments, far longer than any spellcasting he'd seen from her, for her to fix the item she wanted in her mind. Once confident of it, the conjuration itself took seconds, just a mental twitch, almost, to pluck the thing from her thoughts into the space they shared, and then it lay there across her thighs exactly as she'd imagined it, even steamily warm and scented of chai, and she shot him a triumphantly sunny smile as she held out her hand for his injured arm.