DISCLAIMER: "Once Upon a Time" and all its wonderful characters belong to ABC and Adam Horowitz and Edward Kitsis, etc.. I borrow them only with love.

Written for LJ's 'onceuponabingo'. Fill for prompt - "Granny's Diner - bruises"

Speedy beta love to helenhighwater7.

BUT A GLAMOUR
by
Rowan Darkstar
Copyright (c) 2013

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who wanted to be queen. She wanted to rule with beauty and majesty. Just like her mother. But her mother wanted her to be, above all else, good. Kind. Loving. The little girl clung each day of her life to the path her mother had chosen for her, however rugged the road.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who wanted to be loved, simply for who she was. She wanted to meet her true love, to marry, and to raise beautiful children and regal horses. But her mother wanted her to be, above all else, powerful. Royal. Dominant. The little girl fought for her beliefs year after year. But each day of her life, the path her mother had chosen for her tugged at her soul.

One bright and windy day, the younger girl met the older girl, and in a moment's impulse the older girl saved the young girl's life. The older girl was warm and open and loving and her hugs felt like home to the little girl. The younger girl fell into utter adoration of her beautiful savior. The two would be a family.

"That woman lost much. And now she's gone."

"I think she's still inside you."

"Mary Margaret!" Ruby swept out from the kitchen the moment Mary Margaret stepped through the diner's door. Wolf sense. Mary Margaret had yet to acclimate to her friend's extraordinary gifts. Snow had understood them well.

"Ruby. Hi!"

The distress on Ruby's face was clear. Ruby had always been more melodramatic than Red. Blood and savagery could impart their own wisdom and calm. Since the breaking of the curse, Mary Margaret had seen less Ruby and more Red. But tonight was all Ruby. Mary Margaret caught her friend's fidgeting hands as she pulled off her own knit cap and shed snow onto the floor. "Ruby, what is it, what's-" She did not need to ask.

A turn of the head, and Ruby's hair fell from her face. The overhead lights revealed a harsh line of red and purple scrapes and bruises over her cheek and up the side of her face.

"Oh, my God..." Mary Margaret brushed careful fingertips over tender skin. "Are you all right? What happened to you?"

Ruby shook her head, brushing off Mary Margaret's concern. She clung to her friend's hand, pulling her toward a nearby booth. She urged Mary Margaret into the seat across from her. "I'm fine, but I look horrible!"

"What? No, Ruby, you're-" And then it hit her. "Oh, God. Is that tonight?"

Ruby's expression was so pleading and pitiful that Mary Margaret nearly indulged a laugh. She employed her best royal control and composed her features into a look of sympathy and understanding. "It's your date with..." She trailed off, sparing her friend the affirming words as Ruby nodded and closed her eyes.

The man in question was a regular visitor to the diner. Ruby had been drooling over him since the breaking of the curse. Mary Margaret had heard about little else during their weekly lunches, until the past Thursday when The Guy had finally worked up his nerve to ask Ruby to dinner.

"I cannot go out with him looking like this! I can't!"

"Oh, Ruby...I'm certain he would understand." Mary Margaret untangled herself from her scarf and dropped the snowy garment on the seat beside her. "Really, it's not that bad, and-"

"It's horrible."

"It's not, it's just..." Another turn of her head to loosen her jacket, and that was when Mary Margaret's gaze caught the profile nearest them at the bar. The Queen was seated on a tall stool, overcoat open and black boots crossed. She was sipping something warm, gaze resting on a piece of paper on the counter. She was close enough to hear every word the other women said.

It was rare to see Regina out and about, these days. Rarer still to see Ruby so distracted that she forgot to carry herself stealthily, forgot her tendency to move and breathe like a predator around the Queen. Emotions stirred in the townsfolk like river ripples as Regina passed, incendiaries ripe to ignite at the tiniest spark. Her presence shadowed danger.

Yet tonight she looked harmless enough. Cold, seeking shelter or soup or hot chocolate. Like everybody else.

"Mary Margaret!"

She turned at the admonishment. "I'm sorry, what?"

"What do I do? It's almost-"

"Ruby, he seems like a nice person, if you just explain to him what happened, I'm sure-."

"I can't!"

"Why not?"

Ruby puffed out a weary sigh and virtually crumpled in her seat. "Because telling my date that I have these bruises all over my face because I tripped over my own shoes, which my grandmother told me twice I should put away, and then fell down the staircase in my own house only to land face first in a potted cactus plant would be worse than having him see the bruises in the first place."

"Oh. Well. Maybe...we make something up?"

Ruby gave a soft whimper and narrowed her eyes.

"Or make-up! Surely we can tone it down with make-up! I have-"

"This is with make-up. About fifty layers."

Mary Margaret failed to hide her cringe. "Ouch..."

"Yeah." Ruby propped her elbows on the table and dropped her forehead into her hands. "God, why is this happening? I could put off tonight, but this could last a week! What do I say? He's gonna think-"

"Ruby, if you just-"

"It's only fifteen minutes until I'm supposed to meet him. Do I call?"

"Well, you could-"

"Can I cancel at the last minute? Isn't that practically standing him up?"

"No, no, not if yo-"

"Do I say I'm sick? Do I-"

A loud clunk startled the two women and they both turned to see Regina setting her mug down a bit too firmly on the counter. The paper she had been reading was now tucked neatly into her pocket. The former mayor snatched her gloves from the counter and slid from her stool to the floor.

Ruby's attention was finally centered upon their unusual guest. Mary Margaret felt the stiffening of posture, the slight prickling to the hairs on her arms.

Regina, regal and poised as ever, took the few steps to bring her from the bar to the booth. Mary Margaret found herself holding her breath, waiting for Regina's clicking heels to carry her the rest of the length of the diner and safely out the door. But the measured steps slowed and stopped just beside the friends' table. Gloves still in hand, a small bag hooked over her shoulder, Regina reached out darkly painted nails and gave a single, graceful wave before Ruby's face. A barely perceptible shimmer of purple trailed Regina's motion. When it cleared, Mary Margaret was staring at the face of her friend, untarnished and smooth.

Mary Margaret stared at Regina's profile. The older woman stood, posed at an angle to the table, hands in her pockets and gaze focused just beyond the toes of her boots.

Ruby's fingers fumbled to probe at her cheek; she turned to catch her reflection in the darkened window glass.

Mary Margaret drew a breath. "Did you just...heal her?"

The muscles of Regina's throat quivered. "No. I simply masked the wounds. To shut her up. The effect will wear off in a few days."

Mary Margaret frowned. "Why? I mean...," she pulled at the words that felt foreign on her lips, knowing in her heart what she had to say, "thank you, but...if you were going to use magic...couldn't you have just healed her?"

Regina gave a single, terse shake of her head. "I've never been very good at healing wounds...only...hiding them."

The words hovered in the air, layered and shivering as the massive and buoyant snowflakes.

Time paused in the golden light; a sensation they understood all too well. Mary Margaret wanted to speak. Things should have been said, things she hardly remembered. Regina's gaze kept to the level of the tabletop. Her pale skin shown against her dark locks. Like Snow's. They had been mistaken more than once for biological mother and daughter. Long, long ago.

"I told you that to spare your feelings. Out of...kindness.

"...regret that I was not able to kill...Snow White."

Mary Margaret drew a breath. And Regina was gone. Boots clicking on the tile and door chimes ringing softly as she pushed into the night.

The rush of cold traced the echo of her presence.

#