Work Text:
Sexuality isn’t a big topic in wonderland. People are born and assumed to like everyone unless specified growing up.
Of course, if someone does find they only like a specific gender or person, they are automatically accepted as they are. Bridget added even more laws protecting these valuable rights. Making sure that no future ruler could ever try and dismantle it. She’d seen the wild homophobia in auradon, and was beyond disgusted. And while she may be cruel, she isn’t a monster. Wonderland was a place where anyone could live. Magical, race, gender, and sexuality aside.
But of course. It wasn’t hard to notice that the queen was, in simple words, single.
Most rulers had a partner. A king and a queen of hearts. Or two queens. There always was a matriarch. Rarely was it ever a solo king. The few they had were either transgender, or voted fit to rule by the kingdom. When there was no other female options. Men typically weren’t bothered by it. They knew of their countries matriarchal ties. The columns of power and freedom and society breaking it stood upon. Most often they were proud of it. Being part of a world so advanced. A world that they still found confusing others didn’t understand.
But while the gender of Bridget’s partner did not matter, it was definitely seen as odd she never took one.
Red herself had been liminally curious. Of course she’s known of single parents. But the wonder if her mother would ever entertain the idea of romance did room in the back of her mind.
But over time it was clear the queen had no such intention.
Ask anyone. And you’ll know that the queen looks down on love.
Ask Red and she’ll say not only that, but that Bridget looks down on Men in that category specifically.
She’s known this from a young age. Small murmurs under her breath. Aggression when men tried to speak over her. But she thinks the clearest moment of her mother’s preference, would have to be when she was 13. And a man dared to do the unthinkable.
It had been another basic unbirthday party. One stripped of all joy and sense of fun. Red hadn’t been entertained in the slightest. Watching from her miniature throne. Fashioned similarly to her mother’s.
People were partaking in the basic wonderland dance. A mandatory participation. Filled with violins. Never bright enough to be cheerful. More of a tragic monotone. Red didn’t understand the point of it. But one night when she had a bit to much to drink, and been questioned by an even younger Red, Bridget had admitted the music was soothing to her. Comforting.
And well. Red could understand comfort. So the music wasn’t the problem. It was the whole mouse and cat game of forcing the public to dance that still went unsolved. If her mother liked the music, couldn’t she simply order someone to play it for her privately?
It didn’t matter. The Queen was Queen. And whatever the Queen said, went. And Red could at least tolerate this order, it was one of her less violent ones.
Anywho, this wasn’t the incident most people remembered. It was what happened shortly after that did.
The song had reached its somewhat peaceful end. And Bridget hadn’t waved for them to repeat it. So it was assumed the unbirthday party would be wrapping up again soon.
Except, this time a couple guards approached the Queen. Someone slightly hidden behind them.
“And what is this?” Her mother had declared, irritation of her song being interrupted clear, “Why do you approach?”
Jack of diamonds stepped forward, a shared annoyance on his face, “This… Man, declares he must speak to you. That it is of the highest importance to wonderlands future.”
Bridget simply raised an eyebrow, “Oh? Does he then. Reveal him to me.”
A man pushed through the two guards with a flourish, clearly not seeing the glaring danger that lied in the Queens supposed compliance.
“Oh your majesty! Your queen of hearts! Thank you for granting me your audience!” He exclaimed passionately.
Bridget didn’t even blink, just stared blankly, “Yes, and who do I have the… patience of speaking too?”
The man bowed, “I am James Smarthingson. A humble baker from WestOyster street.”
“Are you? How, anticlimactical. So James. Why do you speak to me? What is it you need to say. I was told it was of the highest importance to wonderlands future.” Her mom leaned forward, nails raised intimidatingly. A obvious warning.
Yet it seemed this James was oblivious as a Cheshire is smiling, for he walked closer, without explicit permission. Smile cringe inducingly wide.
“Well your Majesty, I am here to offer none other then myself, “ he got on one knee, “If only you’ll accept me your grace.”
Bridget was stunned. It was one of very few times Reds ever seen her speechless. The queens face heating up rapidly, “O-Offering yourself?! Mr. Smarthingson are you actually actually trying to tell me your-
-“Asking for your hand? Why yes!” He crowed, staring up in misguided adoration and cockiness, “Well, of course we could court before anything more serious. But I notice your lack of counter, and I took it upon myself to fill that role! Especially considering I’m all but enamored with you your grace. I don’t see anything wrong with offering!”
Red flinched back, expecting ear shattering screams, and maybe a few declarations of death. But it was surprisingly quiet.
Turning to her mom, Bridget’s face was a deep red. But her expression remained calm, “James. Come forward please.”
Clocks, even Red was starting to take pity on this man. Any person, sane or insane, could see the poison in her mom’s eyes. The way this ask had hidden intentions. She’d even encourage him to run. A stab to the heart from a guard felt practically merciful to whatever was about to go down.
Yet this man, James, seemed to be a special type of insane. One that gave him the audacity to glide forward effortlessly, stopping a mere foot before her mother.
Bridget glowered at him, raising a single hand, “Kneel.”
James did so instantly, face dopey with glee.
The Queen stood, in all her glory. Her single step forward loud as thunder in the echoing silence. All the guests to terrified to make a peep.
Bridget reached out, and to Red shock, caressed James’s head. Fingers oh so gently carting through his hair. She pulled him close, allowing his face to rest against her abdomen. Nearly like a pet. A toy to play with.
“Oh your majesty,” he gushed, nearly high, “Thank you. I just knew you’d accept.”
“James?” Her mom questioned.
“Yes your grace?”
“You thought wrong.”
Before James could even process what was happening, Bridget had snapped his neck. The crack deafening.
Red prided herself in not flinching. It wasn’t unusual for her mom to execute the belligerent. And truly. She had seen this coming from a mile away.
But still. Rarely did her mother do it in such a manner. It was usually a decapitation. An elongated torture spree.
She dropped the man’s body to the ground, which fell like a sack of potatoes.
And this time Red was truly surprised, for the body groaned.
James was still alive.
“Let this be a message to you all.” Bridget seethed, moving forward and stopping at the mans head. James, who was merely paralyzed from the neck down, and not dead, spluttered. A desperate plea for mercy.
Her mom raised her leg, pressing her heel against his face. Effectively silencing him, “To all who think they are worthy of my hand. To any MAN who thinks themselves of such a honor. Allow this to be a deterrent.”
And quickly, with zero hesitation, Bridget stomped down with all her might. The crunch of her heel breaking through cartilage and bone made Red fight the urge to gag.
Bridget moved away from the corpse, anger gone, and unbothered.
“Clean this up!” She yelled to her guards, “The rest of you are dismissed. I hope today’s unbirthday party was just as pleasing to you as it was to I.”
Truly. If anyone wanted a clearer example if her mother was remotely interested in Men, this would be it.
Red, in all her revulsion. Couldn’t finds it in herself to feel too bad for the man like she did most of her moms victims.
He was deluded. Gone from the mind, if he ever thought approaching her mom like that would win him her hand in courtship. Red honestly felt safer knowing idiotic men like him weren’t around to throw himself at another person. God. The indecency. Where did they get such power? Such gall?
It was also left unsaid, but somewhat implied, that Bridget did not feel the same about woman. Her message had been clear. Any man who approached in such a manner would be killed on sight.
But woman? Red could only assume it would be a lighter sentence. Maybe locked away in the dungeons for all eternity? She could never be sure.
It was only after she’d travelled back in time in Chloe were her suspicions confirmed. The way Bridget looked at Ella? It had been that same dumb love struck expression James wore. Minus the inflated ego.
So when they came back to see things were fixed. Bridget still alone. But smiling, she could at least confirm one thing.
Events had changed. Her mother’s sexuality did not. Bridget of Hearts heart would never belong to a man.