[For Henry] A witch and a sorceress walk into a garden...

[st_oriedqueen]

When Regina had been at the Inn two weeks and it had shown no sign of dumping her and Snow back in Gotham or anywhere else, Regina decided it was time to stop holing up in her room or the office she'd claimed for herself. Her afternoon crying jags (around Roland's naptime) had subsided again (since they'd already subsided but came back with her hope he might be here). And she'd done most of her crying over Robin the first time they were parted, so if she celebrated the odd lonely night with a cup of sorrow, it was rare, and late, when the nightmares hit and he didn't immediately move to hold her, so she didn't risk unQueenly (thanks, Mother) behavior with crying in public.

Naturally, after the stables where Snow took such wonderful care of the horses, the first place she explored were the gardens. More grounds than gardens, really. As manicured as her palace had been, if much heavier on pink and red,and so predominantly show-floral that it surprised her to find a sectioned off garden of calendula, motherwort, passionflower, chamomile, lavender, nasturtium, catnip, and sweet violet among others.

Not the plants she needed for potions, generally, but clearly someone had an eye for plants with potentially magical properties. Hm. Curious and heedless of her (glamored) teal Vera Wang zipper dress, stockings, and heels, she knelt and lightly pressed her fingers to the dirt to see if she felt magical energy emanating from it.

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[st_udious]

If she was looking for magic, she was absolutely going to find it. Henry had no shame whatsoever about encouraging the plants to grow and ensuring that they would be potent as well as hardy. His beard had grown in a little over the past few days while he spent his time thinking about protective sigils and training Sam and, alright maybe indulging in the one thing Millie hadn't cared for and not shaving. He'd take care of it eventually. Probably when it got too hot.

Half lost in thought about how to ward a place that didn't want to be changed at all and was stronger than him, he went to go check on his plants and found an altogether unfamiliar face there. "They're not weeds," he said, "please don't..." Millie had done that once, weeded his herb garden (regardless of whether or not the contents were actually herbal at all,) and he hadn't even been allowed to tell her why he was upset about it.

[st_oriedqueen]

Unaccustomed to taking direction from anyone (with the occasional exception of Robin, and even more occasional exception of Miss Swan), Regina simply ignored the remark and continued on as she had done. The magic she found wasn't like hers, was delicate and minimal, where hers, though it could be subtle, had a sort of wildness to it even when it was white and not black--a legacy of her mother and how she had learned.

Although she ignored the request, she didn't dig up the plants. And when she glanced up to say, "Of course they're not," with her very accustomed tartness, she blinked. Eric? Her gaze narrowed, but it was only a momentary resemblance to Ariel's hapless prince.

[st_udious]

Whoever this woman was, Henry did not like her messing about with his plants. She seemed... He certainly wouldn't say careless, but– Oh, alright, he was just very particular about his plants. They often felt like one of the few things he had going for him. They were one of the few places where he felt like he was actually allowed to be nurturing.

"They're delicate yet," he said finally. They were hardy, of course. By nature they would be, but the magic in them was still relatively new a part of himself he was still becoming accustomed to letting be known. Really, there wasn't any point in hiding it anymore. The order was gone in the US, and if his grandsons hadn't ever heard of them before meeting him then he was almost certain that the chapters in other countries were gone as well. Regardless, there wasn't anyone around to threaten him for speaking any longer.

He crouched in front of the small garden he'd built for himself checking just to be sure. It would've been easier if he were allowing himself to let loose with his magic but... "I don't trust this place, forgive me. I'd- I'd rather do what I can quietly and out of the way and hope whatever this is doesn't disrupt things too much." His magic had been trained to be quiet and subtle, but perhaps it just naturally leaned that way in the first place. Josie's certainly wasn't. Even at her softest, it'd felt loud and commanding. His thumb brushed over a tiny bud of a leaf and he smiled softly as he relaxed. They were fine.

[st_oriedqueen]

Sighing inwardly at the necessity of conversation, Regina took a moment to compose herself, to gather Queenly poise, and shove down Evil Queenly viciousness. He'd done nothing to provoke her, really, and they were his plants. But that was part of the problem. Everything in this place belonged to someone else. Nothing of it, save a single office (and certainly not her ghost-infested room) felt as though it welcomed her.

"Have you tried anything more obvious?" she all but demanded in spite of a deliberate effort to be Good. It wasn't so much that she sounded imperious, exactly, just that she assumed she would get an answer. So far, the Inn hadn't interfered with her magic, except in resetting the rooms, and that she understood as something like a stasis spell. A clever one, that allowed interaction, but always returned to its default.

[st_udious]

Speaking of loud and commanding, Henry thought a little ruefully. "In general or on the plants?" he asked and then answered both questions anyway. "On the plants, no. I don't want to overwhelm them and kill them or have something backfire horribly. In general, yes."

He sighed heavily and got up, brushing his hands off on his thighs though there wasn't any dirt on them in the first place. "Henry Winchester," he said, offering his hand and a kind smile. "Please forgive my lack of tact." He didn't offer excuses or explanations or anything of that sort. She didn't seem like the kind of person who'd want them anyway if she was as much like Josie as he was beginning to suspect.

[st_oriedqueen]

Of course his name would be Henry, as though she needed a reminder to be Good and Kind (no one expected her to be Nice, not even the Henrys: her son, father, and Snow's surrogate uncle). Or that her sons weren't here, the father one had and the other needed, the other mother and her pirate. For the brief moment before her expression shuttered and her gaze left his, her eyes shone suspiciously.

She covered it in speech. "Regina Mills," she said, and gently stroked a finger along the stem of the barely budded calendula. With the aid of her magic, it slowly opened and unfurled into bright marigold glory.

[st_udious]

He was going to be a bit offended by the rudeness of refusing a handshake when she showed her power and his expression practically lit up. That was definitely an unexpected but welcome surprise.

"Wonderful," he said, wondering what all he could learn from her that his elders had been unwilling to teach him. There was quite a bit of that, he knew. Would she even be willing? He hoped so. It was also just the sort of display Josie would've done and then been smug in his general direction about. She always was better at spellwork than him. "I hadn't- I'm not very good at being bold." Forthright, yes, but bold, no. Too much depended on secrecy.

[st_oriedqueen]

"People who know me--" Of whom there were very few here. "--would tell you boldness was my besetting sin. They'd be wrong." It wasn't directed at him, not really, although she didn't seem to mind if he heard her.

When she glanced up to meet his gaze--and saw it bright and eager like her sons could be, it almost broke her heart. She swallowed the thought and the hurt, but it tempered her response. "There's a difference between a big impact and a bold move."

[st_udious]

The more she spoke, the more she reminded him of Josie. Josie before Abbadon at least. If somehow his dearest friend managed to survive that, he was sure she would be changed somehow.

"There is," he agreed. "I was trained in subtlety and subterfuge. Being bold is...a bit contrary to all that."

[st_oriedqueen]

And I was trained in deception, manipulation, and control.

"That wasn't bold," she said instead. "If you hadn't been here to see it, you wouldn't have known what was done." She gestured to the plant with her hand. "See for yourself." The sort of magic she'd just used left no trace.

"All magic comes with a price." The way she said it, the air resounded with an unspoken word, as though she or someone else had used the phrase often but didn't traditionally end it there. "I learned to do what's needed as efficiently as possible."

[st_udious]

She wasn't wrong, but he wasn't entirely sure what to say about that. It'd been bold enough that it was noticeable and that was what he'd been trained to avoid. People weren't to know, not even spouses unless they were part of the order which...definitely wasn't the norm. A witch, he supposed would be allowed to know, but then the order could never know he'd married a witch. He understood the necessity of secrecy, but he did hate it a bit.

He slipped his hands in his pockets and nodded some in understanding. "Different philosophies or not, I'm glad to meet another magic user."

[st_oriedqueen]

"In my experience, meeting other 'magic users' is rarely a good thing." It was rather less tart than it might have been. He had an earnestness about him that reminded her somewhat of Daniel. Not Daniel as she'd loved him, but Daniel as he might have lived happily without her.

"I'm not opposed to this being an exception." She offered him a smile with that, nothing brilliant, but not pure politics either. More the possibility of a smile, like the possibility that they wouldn't end up at each other's throats.