I apologize for not updating either of my other stories recently, life happened and I kind of forgot.

This story is not based on Once Upon a Time, and is sort of a spinoff of Snow White

Its not Maleficent either. Im not copying anything, for petes sakes I wrote this when I was ten and found it in my computer and decided to expand on it. In 2010 Maleficent wasn't even out, I don't think OUAT was but I dunno, I wasn't watching it then anyway, and I sort of got this from Snow White

It isnt from Land Of Stories either, for any of you who have read Chris Colfer's book. That wasn't even out in 2010. Anyone who doesn't believe me, message me and I will send you a bloody screenshot of this file, from my computer, with the date of it being written 2010.

_This story is about a queen who became more than she ever imagined, and a girl who became stronger than you could guess.

Do you expect this story to begin with Once Upon a Time? It shall not. This is not a story of true love's kiss and talking animals and a queen who is entirely evil and attempts to kill an innocent maiden for being beautiful. Nor is it a story of a long-time feud that began with a princess on a horse and the girl who saved her. It is not the story of a princess locked in a tower who became a mighty warrior, or a queen who mixed potions to make a prince love her. It is my story, the story of the Not So Evil Queen with the heart of stone.

So many tales, so many legends about that heart, and why it came to be a part of my life. It is not because of the death of family, not because of fear or terror or pain. I am the one Evil Queen who doesn't rip out hearts or cannot feel for the hatred against one girl.

I am the evil queen who kept her heart, and made another, for fear of losing her own and having nothing to put in its place.

Sit down, get comfortable, and I shall tell you the tale of the evil queen that was not evil at all.

Chapter One

It all began in a cottage in the woods, with a mother who wished to rise to power as the most powerful in the land, and her young daughter who wished for nothing more than a mother who loved her. For the girl's mother never paid her the slightest attention, except to feed her and clothe her and teach her. The mother's heart was as cold as ice and as hard as stone, incapable of feeling. And so it was that her daughter fashioned a heart out of stone, using many of the crafts her mother had taught her to give it warmth and kindness and love, and all the other feelings in the world except hatred and jealousy and anger, and kept it with her at all times as her second heart, for the girl feared of losing her own and becoming like her mother.

So it was that the cruelty of the world had never permitted the girl to know her father, for he had died in what her mother had insisted was an accident, but the girl derived from her mother's too-quick answers that she had something to do with the 'accident.' So the girl spent long hours outdoors and in her room, sometimes reading a book, sometimes sewing, and sometimes sleeping beside the river and hoping it would wash her away to a kinder world. As it would happen, one day, the river seemed to oblige.

At age 16, the girl was the kindest woman in the land, despite having put up with her mother's tyranny all that time. It was then that she learned of the ball where the prince would choose his bride, and the king would pass the kingdom onto his heir. As it is with wicked mothers and stepmothers the girl's mother was seized with anger and jealousy, and began thinking of an evil plan. She was quick to magic up a dress and send her daughter to the ball, hoping she would win the prince's heart and guarantee her mother a place in the court, somewhere she had long since given up hope of being.

Her mother's plot had once been to become a queen, a ruler. Now, with her daughter as a pawn in her games, she could be so much more. King AND Queen, two birds with one stone. Not just the most powerful woman in all the land, but the most powerful of all. Her daughter, however, had no such desires. She cared not about wit and charm and beauty and power, all she wanted was to be free. Of course, at the time, women were confined to certain social standards. Marriage would be her prison.

So of course, the night of the ball, she left before she even got inside, quickly changing into pants and a shirt and boots she had packed in her bag, magically expanded to fit them. Magic had its small uses.

After doing so, she glanced at the direction of home, one last time, before heading into the shadows. Darkness swallowed her.

Walking through the swirling mist and the glowing eyes of animals, she never saw the person standing on the steps, watching her.