AN: This a sequel to Mine Alone to Hate. It's more of a companion fic, placed in Snow's POV. It's going to be maybe six or seven chapters, and it takes place along with the story. I didn't re-write any of the chapters in a different POV, because that did not seem appealing of an idea at all, but this is more of an 'in between' of what you've already read. The tone and style of writing is going to be different because it's Snow and not Regina. Obviously I don't own you, so you don't have to read Mine Alone to Hate before reading this, but it might help, because we kind of just jump right in with this ;)

This starts with a flashback chapter, and I know the first couple of chapters are short. The length will fluctuate probably, but I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think! :)

"Fault or fate, I'll never be free of either one. So, you'll never be free of me."

"Would you like to hear a story?"

I felt her stirring next to me at that, just when I thought she had gone to sleep. Though she never would, not while I was in her bed. She would never allow such weakness.

"It is too late for stories, Snow." She said, speaking of the time of day, but her tone meant otherwise. Regina sat up in her bed, her back facing away from me. The nightgown she wore hung loosely around the curves of her body, a strap of silk material falling off of her shoulder, and I wanted to kiss the skin there, but I stayed on my back, knowing she wouldn't allow for it.

"It's early still." I argued softly, even though the moon was high, and sleep was quickly gripping me. I only wished she would let me stay a little while longer, just to let the afterglow of my pleasure fade completely before being sent away into the cold hallway. Sent back to an empty bed. I knew why I couldn't stay the entire night, I just wished for a little while longer.

Regina stayed quiet next to me, the muscles in her back flexing as she sat up straighter, her long hair cascading down her back. She was so beautiful like this. She was so beautiful like anything, but like this, it was the closest thing I ever got to seeing her guard down around me. Even then though, the walls were taller than the tallest castle in the land.

"Once upon a time there was a son, born of a King." I began, since she stayed so silent. Her shoulders tensed at the start of my speaking, but quick enough I saw her body relax and her head turned to the side to watch me from the corner of her eye. I could see the light of the moon outline her profile, so I leaned up on my elbows to get a better view of her face. The sheets that covered my chest fell down to settle at my hips. "He was prophesied to kill his father, and marry his mother." Regina turned fully at that, looking at my face, but her sight caught on my bare breasts for a moment, and a small smile caught on my lips. I affected her far more than she would ever admit. "So, he was banished as a child, and left for dead." Her hand moved casually towards me, fingers catching on the sheet at my hips, and slowly she pulled it down, her eyes watching as my skin reddened at her persistent stare. Still, I continued my story. "Once grown he found his way back to his kingdom, but did not recognize it as his, nor the people in it." Her hand now at my ankles, moved back up to trail fingertips along my legs, thighs spreading on instinct, and she was pretending not to listen, but I knew better.

"Without knowing the sight of his father's face, he killed him, and without knowing his mother's face, he married her,"

As her fingers moved over my thighs, and along my hip bones, I laid back against the soft mattress, watching as she licked her lips just to tease.

"They loved each other and had children and were very happy as a family,"

My breath hitched and words paused when the wandering hand scraped a single nail gently over my nipple. Her sight was utterly distracted by my body, and for a moment I believed she really wasn't listening. I continued regardless, because there was a moral, and it was one I wished to tell her.

"When it was revealed that it was the king and the father that he killed,"

Regina bent down to hover over me, eyes on my lips as they spoke in shaky breaths.

"That he was the prophesied son, he was exiled,"

I felt her breath against my mouth, my eyes closed in preparation for her patience to dwindle with the story, for us to start our dance over again, from the beginning until the end of time.

"Despite his ignorance and naivety, the King's death was his fault…" I whispered, and no kiss came. My eyes opened to see her moving away from me, looking at me with an expression that was almost unreadable.

Something about my words worried her, and that worried me in kind.

Her eyebrows knitted together, the air between us grew cold, as she pulled away completely, standing from the bed and walking towards the large balcony of her bedchambers. Regina spent long moments looking out onto the sleeping kingdom, as I sat up fully, pulling the sheets over my chest, feeling very suddenly exposed and vulnerable.

"And the Queen?" Regina spoke quietly, lost in thought. "What of her?"

"She…" I swallowed hard and looked away. "She killed herself." There was no reaction to my words from her, so I quickly amended; "The moral though, it's about fate." Though the moral seemed lost on her by now, seeing only her own meanings in the words I spoke. I continued quietly, "Fate is determined, despite the lengths you go, how far you run." Her arms wrapped around her body, and it could have been from the chill of the night air. "You never escape it, because you can't change what's meant to be."

Finally Regina turned away from the balcony, walking along the large space of the room, her eyes glancing towards me for only a moment before speaking.

"I would have assumed the moral be not to share a bed with your mother." I felt my face flush and skin redden at those words, but her sight was elsewhere and the effect of her statement went unnoticed by her. Regina's movements stopped in front of her own reflection from a large wall mirror. "Therein lies only death or exile." Fingers traced the frame of a looking glass she had with her since after the wedding, all those years ago. The articulate designs of the framing always stood out against the other décor, which was the only reason I had remembered such a fact after all those years. She turned to face me quite suddenly, her features hardened and a mask in place once more.

And a look in her eyes, one she had more and more these days. One that led way to secrets and suspicion. Betrayal felt imminent in that moment, as her eyebrow arched challengingly, and dark smirk settled on her lips.

"Or perhaps both."