A/N: I had this little idea earlier whilst reading SwanQueen fics and it has been bugging me since to write it down. The song "Let it Go" by James Bay is the driving force behind the fic, and the inspiration. I hope you all enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own SwanQueen or anything related to OUaT nor am I making profit from this story.

It had been years since Emma had sought answers at the bottom of a bottle, but the burn felt almost therapeutic in a way. Emma had never really liked whiskey; beer could get her buzzed just fine and without the burning sensation. But honestly, right now Emma needed the pain, needed to feel something other than the numbness currently swathing her limbs. The blonde needed to feel alive.

It had been five years. Five glorious, eye-opening, amazing fucking years. All of it washed down the drain in an instant. Well, maybe not an instant. There were a litany of small somethings, little fights here and there that grew and grew until an explosion of epic proportions blew everything out of the water. The "Fight" was not the reason for the dissolution of her marriage, but it was the last straw for an already overburdened marriage. Now Emma sat here in the dingy little bar twenty minutes from Storybrooke, drinking away her sorrows in the hopes of drowning the memories of the last few years away. It would not give her the amnesia she desperately wanted, but a few hours of blissful ignorance would suffice. The empty place on her right hand where her wedding band had lain had gotten her to this point. It reminded her too much of her failures. Failure as a friend, failure as a daughter, failure as a mother. Failure as a wife.

Now, Emma Swan would soon no longer hold that title at least. Evidently, Swans did not mate for life.

Regina stared at her reflection in the mirror, taking in the shoulder-length hair she had been growing out for a while now and the jaded look simmering in whiskey pools. Her eyes used to be light and airy, like a warm cinnamon. Now they had darkened; not to the black pits when she was the Evil Queen but a more murky, distrustful brown. Not nearly as pretty or happy she noted. And all because of Emma fucking Swan.

The witch clenched her teeth together in frustration, her anger swiftly assaulting her senses and causing her magic to swirl purple through her eyes and veins. Regina rarely used magic anymore, having opted for a more family-friendly approach. But that was when she was a wife. Now, the only title left to Regina was mother and Mayor of Storybrooke.

"Regina, babe, are you ready to go watch the movie yet?"

And, apparently, girlfriend.

"I'm coming, dear. Just checking to make sure my makeup looks alright." To make sure it looks like I am getting some sleep. Conceal, don't feel. Elsa was good for something.

"Baby, you always look good with or without makeup. You know you do not need to impress me."

Yes, Regina certainly knew that. Hans had not been a hard man to please and had eagerly courted her after her marriage to the Savior had predictably fell apart. So, reluctantly, six months after her breakup with Emma Regina had gone on a date with the red-haired prince. He was actually not a bad date, having 'reformed' over the years. Sure, he and Anna were not exactly talking or even on good terms and Elsa had threatened to freeze his balls off more than once but the man was evidently trying. And Regina was so tired of being alone again, standing in the shambles of the marriage she believed would last. So much for True Love. Hans was not Emma, true, but maybe that was a good thing. After all, she and the blonde were going through a divorce. Five years together had accounted for nothing but a broken heart, a broken family, and a broken son who escaped to a college two states away to bury his pain. Honestly, the divorce should not have come as a surprise to anyone. The Savior and the Evil Queen living a happily ever after? Now there was an idea doomed from the start.

Regina took one last look in the mirror before gracefully standing. The beautiful woman grabbed her small black clutch and moved to the door. She knew she looked good; the little black number her body was wearing fit like a second skin and the black heels adorning her feet made her legs look divine. It was the perfect dress for a single woman. Why, Emma would have loved-

Fuck.

When Regina caught her eyes in the mirror, she could almost swear she could see tears glistening back.