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Regina settled down. But not to wait. There was no point in that; nothing to wait for. No one to wait for. No one was coming. The distance between them was unimaginable – unfathomable – to those so woefully lacking in the knowledge and practice of magic. She loved her family but she knew, even though they may be willing, they would not have the ways and means to reach her.
No matter.
She had done what she had said she would. Tasked with saving the lives of those she loved, there was no sacrifice too great for her to make. She had fought and turned back the evil creature before it could draw any closer to their world. She had closed the portals, had sealed the final opening. She had kept the creature out. But she had also trapped herself here with no way home.
No matter.
This little pocket of orphaned space and time would cease to exist soon. Cut off from everything that gave life, it would eventually shrink and warp and disappear. Regina would fade with it.
No matter.
She had saved them, yet again. They would be safe now (until the next foe came along. But she had left them stronger. Henry was both a grown man and a growing youth, bringing both experience and hope to any battle. Snow and David were veterans now, as commanding and wise as any successor Regina could wish to have left. Emma was improving in her wielding of magic, and even though she wouldn’t have her teacher now, she would be able to keep learning; Regina had given her all the tools she needed for that. They would manage without her. They would be safe. She had done everything she could).
She had said her goodbyes. Had made her peace with all of them. No – not all of them. One person had still been missing as she had prepared for this mission. But, no matter. If the gods were kind, she would see her again. Sooner or later. And if the gods were not kind. Well. She’d just have to see what was to be done about that.
Regina watched the skies darken. The light faded slowly. So slowly she could not accurately measure the passing of time. She found there was defiance left in her still, realised that she could not bring herself to simply sit here and watch as she was engulfed by the end of all things.
She had never met an enemy she could not fight. She had met enemies she should not fight perhaps, and there had been times when fighting back was not wise or safe or easy. But she had always found a way regardless. This time was a first. She was truly out of options. She had tried everything to find a way back, had wasted power and energy she could not afford to spare, but nothing had worked.
She was not afraid of what came next.
But she did not want to see death come for her.
She had a little magic left in her still, and an old spell tucked away, held on to more for nostalgia than anything. She pulled the little vial from the chain around her neck and stared into its amber depths. She laughed. There was poetry in this (even though she doubted her sons would see the humour in it that she did).
She clicked her fingers and the vial transformed into an apple, rosy red and shiny skinned, conjured from happy memories of her favourite tree. She bit into it, her mouth filling with moisture and sweetness and crisp tartness. A last meal fit for a queen.
The sleeping potion – the same one she had once tried to use against her arch enemy – had no aroma or flavour. Even though undetectable, it worked quickly. Regina slumped to the ground asleep, her bite of apple unswallowed in the back of her mouth.
The darkness spread.
***
There was a sound. A voice. It was coming from a great distance away, hollow and echo-y. The darkness was a heavy weight all around her, making it difficult for her to focus on listening, even though she tried very hard to. Too difficult. She could not hear-
-a blinding light. An exploding rainbow of light. So bright it hurt.
She flinched, groaned. She had preferred the numbing darkness.
But then as the pain of the light eased, other sensation flowed back to her. And with it, a memory of a touch. A recent memory. A memory mere seconds old, of someone brushing warm lips against her cold mouth.
She coughed against an obstruction in her throat, felt a piece of something cool shift so she could breathe again.
She could hear more clearly now, make out the sounds the voice was making. Her name, repeated over and over, in tones growing increasingly more urgent.
Regina blinked, opened her eyes carefully, a little afraid of what she’d see (afraid that it would not be what and who she hoped to see).
The room around her was not familiar, but the face above her was. She smiled, reached up to brush her fingers against the mouth that had kissed her back to life - a proof that, if they were being honest, neither one of them had really needed.
“Mal,” she said, her voice roughened from disuse. “It’s good to see you.”