Some say that people never change, but loss is a powerful motivator.
"Kill him."
The queen's voice was icy and stern, echoing through the great hall of the palace and freezing each of her guards in place. The room was silent.
"I said kill him!" she screamed, when none of her guards reacted. "Do it now!"
When no one stepped forward, the queen turned and grabbed the nearest soldier by the throat.
"You," she hissed. "Do it."
He swallowed so hard the queen could feel it beneath her palm, and laughed as the man began to quiver. Taking a few shaking steps forward, the man looked around the room at the rest of the guards, and then back at the peasant who was kneeling on the floor in front of the queen. When he made no other moves forward, the queen's patience came to an end.
"MOVE, fool!" she shouted, shoving him out of the way.
Extending her hands toward the peasant, a fireball erupted from her palms and shot forward, engulfing the peasant in flame. The queen laughed as he screamed, until finally, he dropped to the floor, lifeless.
"Good. Now, you," she said, turning on the cowardly guard.
She did not hesitate as she did the same to him. His armor melted around him and seared his flesh until he, too, collapsed, dead at last.
"Do any of the rest of you dare to defy me?" the queen asked, turning on the other guards after kicking the carcass of the soldier whose life she had just ended.
They all shook their heads, saying nothing.
"Well?!" she snapped, forming another ball of fire in her left hand.
"No, Your Majesty!" they shouted in unison.
This earned a small smirk from the queen as she returned to her throne and sat down gracefully.
"You are dismissed."
That night, in the queen's bedchamber, the queen sat on her bed, bent over a small pile of photographs. In the first, a young boy stood in front of a diner, holding a large brown book with golden words printed on the cover. In the next, the same boy had his arm wrapped around a woman with dark brown hair and dark eyes. In another, the boy and the woman stood together with a blonde with bright eyes. In another, the blonde sat on a couch with a woman with short brown hair and a tall man with a confident smile who put a hand on each of their shoulders.
Two tears fell from the queen's eyes, just missing the photographs as they fell on the blanket beneath her.
"I want them dead," the queen hissed to her head guard, "and I want it done yesterday."
"Understood, Your Majesty," he answered.
"Good," she said with a smirk. "Good."
As the days went by, the queen's victims began to pile up - literally. Behind the palace, the bodies were stacked in a deep, wide ditch. Some were burned to ash, leaving only bones, and others were covered in torn, marred, bloody flesh. Her guards said nothing, terrified to obey but even more fearful of defying their queen. None dared to challenge her as her blood toll rose.
For months, the bloodshed continued, until at last, news from her personal guard changed everything.
"Queen Emma," the soldier began, his knees shaking. "I have news."
"Well, tell me then!" the beautiful blonde snapped.
"It's the f-former queen, Y-Your Majesty," he stammered. "She's been... There have been rumors that..."
"That what?!" the current queen screamed, drawing her sword and holding it to the man's neck to encourage him to speak quickly.
"That she's alive, Your Majesty."
Without words, the queen dropped her sword, the only sound being the clang of metal against the stone floor that resonated throughout the great hall of the palace.
Burning tears filled the blonde's cold eyes, but her voice remained stern as she finally demanded, "FIND HER!"
Day after day went by with no more word of the former queen, and the more time passed, the more furious the current queen became, her rage stretching even further than before, her victims growing quickly in number.
At last, new news came.
"Your Majesty," the young man began, his voice shaking with fear, "we have news. We found her deep in the forest, wounded. She is too ill to be moved."
"Take me to her!"
Though the queen's heart had hardened since the loss of her family, she could not stop the tears at the sight of the former queen. Even in the presence of her guard who feared her so greatly, she was unable to contain her emotions. As soon as she saw the beautiful brunette, laying on a tiny blanket spread out over the forest floor, she collapsed to her knees and began to sob.
Finding speech impossible, the new Evil Queen reached out and took the woman's hands. The former queen did not stir, her eyes remaining shut as sweat poured from her forehead.
"Regina," the queen cried, her own tears falling on the woman's face.
Queen Emma reached out and stroked the former queen's cheek, wiping away some of the sweat. Finally, her head whipped around as she turned to her guards.
"Get her a cold washcloth!" she ordered. "She is to be nursed back to health immediately! Do it now!"
"But Your Majesty," one of the men protested. "She's not... We believe it to be terminal."
Emma's face filled with both fury and sorrow, but she said nothing. When the man realized the dangerous combination of the woman's emotions, he bravely dared to speak again.
"I'm very sorry."
"No!" Emma finally screamed. "She's going to live!"
The guards said nothing.
"Regina," the queen sobbed, turning back to the woman on the ground. "You can't die. I need you. I've been so long without you. I can't lose you again."
Suddenly, the brunette coughed up a small amount of blood as she startled awake and covered her mouth. When she pulled her hand away, the blood began to drip down her wrists. Instantly, the new queen grabbed her hands, paying no mind to the blood, squeezing them tightly.
"Regina. Oh, God. You're awake."
"Emma," the woman choked, clearly struggling to breathe.
"I'm here," the woman whispered, stroking the brunette's hair out of her face, "and I'll never let you go again."
"I... I'm..."
"Shh," the queen said softly. "Don't speak. I'm going to take care of you. You're safe. There will be time for words when you're well."
"No, wait," the former queen begged. "There's something-" she paused to cough- "something you need to know."
"It can wait."
"It can't wait. Emma, listen to me."
Caught off guard by the woman's use of her first name, Emma's lips parted.
"I'm listening," she assured the woman, biting her lip as she continued to stroke her hair.
"You need to know," Regina started, "that I... I lo-"
Bursting into a fit of coughing, spitting up blood that splashed on her dirty white shirt, the woman's eyes fell closed.
"No!" Emma cried, leaning over the woman and pressing their foreheads together, Regina's sweat mixing with her own. "Please wake up. I need to hear you say it."
But the woman did not stir, so the queen ordered her guards to put her in the carriage and return her to the palace. The blonde clung tightly to the woman's hand the entire journey back. When they arrived, the former queen was brought to an unused bedchamber, and Queen Emma followed her there. For six days and nights, Emma sat beside the woman on the bed, holding her hand and barely leaving her side, until at last, the woman awoke.
"Emma," she whispered. "I..."
"What is it? Are you thirsty? Are you hungry? Are you in pain? What can I get you? Ask it of me, and it will be yours."
"No, Emma," Regina breathed. "All I need is you."
"And you shall have me."
"Emma... I've heard horrible things..."
The queen's heart sank, knowing full well what things the women was referring to.
"Regina, I-"
"Tell me it's not true."
"It's true. Without you, I've become... I've become a monster. I've become the Evil Queen..."
"You cared for me at my worst," Regina said softly, struggling to find the strength to speak, "and I will forgive you and care for you at yours."
"I loved you at your worst," Emma told her, "and I love you still. I never had the strength to tell you. I'm so sorry. When I lost you, I-"
"Emma, I understand. But you have to change. The killing has to stop."
The queen looked away, ashamed.
"It's alright," the woman assured the queen. "I will always love you."
"I never thought... I never believed that you..."
"But I do. I was afraid to tell you. I didn't think you returned my affections."
"I do," Emma cried. "I do."
"Kiss me, Emma."
So the queen kissed her love, slowly and with tenderness, not daring to pull away, both of their broken lives changed forever.