strangetrip | [EP] open your hands if you want to be held

Out beyond the greenhouse and the gardens, in the orchards she'd nurtured with love, and magic, and friends, Regina had stripped her usual business casual battle armor in favor of a softer mien. She rested beneath the shade of a tree, inhabited by an elemental named Manzanita, who understood nothing of fashion, everything of fornication and fertility, and laughed like a babbling brook or syrup sap at the words she didn't understand from the fashion magazines Regina read to her beneath her boughs.

At her feet or more occasionally her head, a puppy-now-nearly-a-dog sprawled, his tail thumping when his mistress laughed unusually loudly. From time to time, inexplicably, a black kitten-cat herded by a spirit Russian Blue appeared to torment the dog. Behind them in a magically constructed paddock, a mare grazed, keeping quiet watch over the antics, and less quiet watch over the picnic basket of fresh fruit (apples, and plums, and pears, and berries and cherries, oh my) on a picnic blanket at Regina's side.

The conversation that was more of a communion took a turn for the sly when Manzanita detected thoughts of a certain wolf in her not-a-druid's mind. It wasn't words, but a suggestion, perhaps Regina might leave this issue of outer-bark wholly behind. Head back, laughing, Regina (briefly, magically) shed her clothes for a light dusting of leaves. (~~Please, let me down, Mama. I'll be good.~~)

On second thought, with a flip of her wrists to replace her clothes, she murmured, "Smelling like forest is freedom enough."

[ooc: Slow because shit is real, but hit me til I scream. Find Regina in the orchards she planted at any time during this post. Avoid seeing her naked if your fireball tolerance is low. Otherwise, fireball forecast: low. Title quote: Rumi.]

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Regina's descriptions brought a smile to her face. Zahra had no idea what it was going to be like, truly, but the idea that there would be moments that obviously brought such joy to this woman left Zahra feeling hopeful that she would feel it too one day. A small, dark part of her wondered if her father ever felt even a sliver of such joy for her, but she knew that line of thinking led nowhere quickly and she pushed it away.

She almost asked to know more about the boy, but she worried asking such a question would bring about unpleasant feelings as the boy was not here. "And Snow is one of your children as well?"

"Snow is my daughter, yes." That she was adopted, that she was the second of her name, none of that mattered anymore. "I met her when I first arrived in Gotham, a city much like this Inn, and fell in love almost instantly."

Even thinking of Snow brought a softer, sweeter smile to her lips. "I'm very grateful for Kash's affection for her. He's been very good for her. You might remind him of that, when he worries. As men do."

"He does." Even when he tried to hide it. "Neither of us have had much experience with children and our upbringings... have not been entirely nurturing ones either. He's worried we might make many mistakes and end up harming the children." Zahra didn't think so, or at least not to the same degree.

"You will make many mistakes." It wasn't unkindly said. Not remotely. "All parents do. But children are resilient as long as they're loved."

She frowned, pensive. Her childhood wasn't one she shared. At all. But if it would help a child, or children, she owed it to Henry and Mary Margaret...

She forced steadiness into her voice and calm into her face and didn't let on how hard it was to say, "My own upbringing was very much less than nurturing. I won't pretend that it didn't affect my parenting, but I learned and so will you. Remember the things you wished for as a child, and the things you hated. If you keep those in your heart, you won't go far wrong."

She made a thoughtful 'hm' sound and nodded. Zahra was hopeful their mistakes would at least be glaringly obvious. She found herself making mental lists of things she definitely did not want to do. She would never, for example, raise a hand to the child or find the need to confine them in any ways. "Thank you, Regina. To know there's someone else here who has gone through this is comforting."

"Comforting isn't a word most people apply to me," she observed with a wry twist of a smile. "You are welcome, though. If there's more I can do, now or when the babies are born, please ask. As my boys aren't here, all I can do is help with others' and hope that someone is doing the same for them."

The words tasted like syrup on her tongue, sweet and heavy, and nauseating with it. She refrained from sneering at her own sentiment, but only barely.

She felt for Regina, though she would not know the deepness of such a feeling until she had children of her own. Then she would truly understand how it felt to be separated from a child.

"I have no doubt someone is looking after them." Zahra offered a smile.

It was a slow climb to her feet, but she managed. "I should get inside before I find myself dozing off in the middle do the garden."

Naps were now a think for Zahra and they never had been before.

"If you're tired, I could teleport you to your room," Regina offered. But it was only because the woman was pregnant with twins, no other reason. She didn't want to become a magical taxicab, certainly.

Some others might find such an offer or venture unappealing, but Zahra was both used to magic and used to teleportation. She nodded to Regina. "If you'd be willing, I certainly won't pass up the offer."

Nodding to Zahra, Regina stood and linked her arm through the other woman's. She flipped both wrists and purple smoke roiled up around their feet, enclosing them, only to deposit them mere seconds later outside Zahra's door.

[ooc: fade?]

(ooc: Sounds good!)

[EP] open your hands if you want to be held

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