"You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream." - C. S. Lewis

She left. Helena left. Your daughter, which you have worked so hard to raise, take care of, make sure that she was alright, stole your most precious treasure and left without a moment's notice.

Without a goodbye. Without anything. And now, you're probably never going to see her again, as you lay here, on what's soon to become you're deathbed, and disappointment, and sadness and grief, are swirling through your brain, your wonderful, wonderful mind (which got you into this situation didn't it?) is at a loss to think about anything other than your daughter because let's face it, she's the most important thing in the universe to you.

But out of all the feelings and thoughts that are swirling around your mind, you realise that there is one that is the most prominent.

And that's regret.

Because maybe, oh maybe, if you could've spent a little more time with her, and maybe oh maybe if you hadn't been so hard on her and pushed her to do her best, than maybe, oh maybe, she wouldn't have left and she would be sitting here right by your side.

But that's just a bunch of speculation, just a bunch of guesses, and you're much too logical to believe any of that nonsense, that things "might've worked out differently" because you made the best decision that you could've at the time.

And you know that. Deep down, you do at least. But it's easier to put the blame on yourself than it is to put the blame on Helena.

You know that you're logical, and the truth is, Helena is always the one thing that you can't be logical about. You can't not be biased about her, because she's your daughter and you love her, and love is something that doesn't have any logic, which is one of the reasons you've always failed to understand it and why you aren't married.

And that's why you haven't told anyone that the diadem's missing. If it had gone missing and you had suspected anyone else in the world had taken it, you would've announced it at once and had a castle wide search all around for it. But because it's her, and it's your daughter, your greatest weakness, that stole the diadem, you can't possibly send a search party for it or for her.

Because she's your daughter, and you think that this is your fault, and you are not going to do anything that could worsen it, not at all. Not even a little bit.

And besides, here you are lying on your sick bed, with Helga telling you that it's going to be alright, and that everything's fine, and that you're going to get better soon. But you're smarter than that. You know better than that. So you just nod and accept whatever food that they give you, when in reality you know that it doesn't matter anyway, because you're going to die soon.

You're already dead on the inside, anyway.

You're already dead on the inside because you're daughters run away, she's gone, and you feel like a terrible mother, the worst one in the world, because really, no daughter runs away from their own mother unless they feel like she's trapped them, in a way.

And they're trying to escape.

And you feel like everything around you is crumbling, and you can't breathe, and you can never escape.

Is that how Helena felt? You wonder, did she feel trapped?

You want to say, no, of course, she didn't but your mind is being rational, telling you yes, of course she did. And it's the one time where you wishwishwishwish that you're brain wasn't as rational as it is, and you could just tell it to shut up sometimes because sometimes you don't want to think, you just want to feel.

You do want to see her though, one last time before you go. How can you do that? There's no way you could find her, as you're lying on your death bed. But there's someone who can…and someone who won't stop until they will.

The Baron.

You call for him, and he comes at once. You tell him your plan, and he agrees to do it, without hesitation. He will not rest until he finds her, you are sure of it.

And so he sets out, into the world to find her.

"Rowena," Helga says, coming in, "I have some horrible news."

"What is it?" you ask, and she starts crying and you know the answer, "How long?" you ask quietly.

"Tomorrow is the latest they're hoping for," she says, taking a breath, trying to control herself, and you feel your heart sinking to the bottom of your chest because really? You're never going to get to see your daughter ever again. And you know deep inside that it's your fault, really.

And you can feel it too, you can feel your heart rate slowing down, and it getting harder and harder to breathe, but all you can think about is Helena, and all you feel is Helena and all your tears are for Helena.

So you close your eyes for the last time, and dream a new dream where Helena's right there besides you.

A/N-This is for Camp Potter: History Appreciation, Fanfiction School History Assessment One with Rowena Ravenclaw, and the Greenhouse Competition with Orchid (mother and child relationship), the Character Diversity Bootcamp with Rowena Ravenclaw and the prompt "wish" Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!