Chapter Text
Mal is walking down the corridor from the Queen's Private Garden toward the kitchens in search of companionship and food appropriate for human consumption as opposed to what is considered appropriate for Dragon consumption. Her most recent flight over the whole of the United Realms has proven most enlightening regarding just how people are responding to the quarantine requirements that Regina was forced to decree throughout the lands. That magic couldn't actually put an end to this pandemic hit both Regina and Quinn harder than anyone ever--
"This castle is not fucking big enough…"
Her brows lift toward her hairline curiously as those words drift toward her from the throne room. Without thought or consideration for her own safety, she changes direction.
"But there are like fifteen bedrooms, Regi--"
"Say another word, Charming, and I'll tear your throat out with my bare hands."
Mal chuckles softly, but quickens her pace. Stepping into the throne room, she can see the two royals facing off, confusion writ plain on Charming's face as it so often is, particularly when up against the inexplicable rage that overtakes Regina from time to time. She always thought that was a byproduct of Quinn's influence back when they shared a single body, but the fact that it's continued since their split only proves that it's but one more trait inherited from their mother that neither would prefer to admit.
The sudden relief on Charming's face as he notices her would be comical at any other time. "Maleficent! Will you please explain to Her Majesty here why she's wrong?"
Oh, you're going to pay for that, Uncharming…
Mal has to swallow back her laughter when Regina mutters practically the exact same words she's just thought, though with far more venom, and quickly tries to diffuse the situation by adding in, "You're damned lucky you're such a pretty man, Uncharming."
"Thank y-- Wait! What?"
The absolute confusion on his face is adorable, even a little sexy, if she's honest with herself, but she knows that his wife is very possessive. It's one of the few things in Snow White that impresses her without fail, that romantic possessiveness that could rival a Dragon's.
"You heard me," she finally says dryly, moving closer. "And you should know better by now than to expect me to just say something like that without hearing all the facts first. I need to make an informed decision, David."
"And then you'd better agree with me, Mal," Regina growls, hands clenching and unclenching into tight fists at her sides.
"Patience, Little One." She grins when Regina's scowl deepens. "Now, who's going to explain what happened?"
Charming starts to open his mouth, but a quick, narrow-eyed glance from Mal stops him and he gallantly bows and gestures to Regina. "Ladies first, Your Majesty," he replies in a far gentler tone than she expects. The widening of Regina's eyes clearly shows that she hadn't expected it either. Good. Perhaps he's not nearly as dumb as he is pretty after all.
Mal listens as Regina speaks, casually moving to settle in the throne meant for Regina, a smirk tugging at her lips at their reactions. David's eyebrows nearly disappear into his hairline, jaw dropping, and she can't resist blowing him a kiss. She may face Snow's wrath for that, but it'll be worth it. Regina, on the other hand, has continued her measured pacing, back ramrod straight as her hands gesticulate wildly to emphasize her words. Clearly she hasn't noticed Mal's change in position or location yet, but she will soon enough.
"He has no fucking right to tell m--"
Showtime.
Mal simply smiles at Regina, waiting for her to continue or ask the obvious question that is written all over her face, and goes so far as to shift and throw one leg over the arm of the throne with a brow quirked in silent challenge.
"Why are you like this, Maleficent?" Regina sounds more petulant and exhausted than angry now, which is a good sign. Unfortunately, it doesn't last long. "I am explaining a serious issue here and you are acting like a fucking child! That is my throne, not yours."
"When was the last time you flew, Little One?"
Regina shakes her head and continues with her rant. "No, this is my castle, my throne room, and my rule. Why do none of you respect that or me? Everyone thinks they can just go anywhere they want in this castle and on these grounds without the slightest thought of whether or not they should, or what I might want. And now you do the same thing? What is wrong with you?"
Mal simply offers her a slow, feline blink and repeats her question in that soft, maternal tone that she knows is needed right now. "When was the last time you flew, Little One?"
"You know I can't fly, Maleficent, and I can't leave this damned castle until this pande--"
"When was the last time you flew, Little One?"
A fireball comes hurtling toward her face, and she chuckles as she catches it and lets it dissipate in her hand. Another quickly follows, and another after that, and another, each meeting the same fate. Choosing to let Regina bleed off her ennui in this manner, Mal turns to look at David, who is clearly torn between wanting to help Regina and wanting to get the hell out of the vicinity before the fireballs are turned on him.
"Go find Robin, David," she says in a calm tone, still casually caching the fireballs. "No matter what he's doing, tell him his wife needs him in the throne room and that I'm invoking Queen's Privilege in requesting his presence. No one is to come with him, David, do you understand me?"
"Yes, ma'am," he says, the words more breath than actual sound, then quickly backs out of the room.
"You don't get to invoke Queen's Privilege, Maleficent!" Regina growls, but Mal can hear the exhaustion in the queen's voice. "That is my right. You aren't queen here. I am!"