Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any recognizable characters.
AN: This story is dedicated to my dear friend, MissLane. Happy early birthday, love! It's sort of like a reverse of the curse. Normal life initially until they get sent to FTL, and it's roughly about three to four chapters long. For those of you following The Bucket List, an update is coming!
Try as he might, Henry couldn't stop his foot from tapping as the music blared throughout the kitchen. It was a typical occurrence in the Swan-Mills household whenever Emma was in charge of making dinner. She'd blast her favourite 80s tune and strut around the kitchen like she was Gene Simmons himself. Tonight's act, however, was the raspy tunes of AC/DC. He rolled his eyes as she screeched into the spatula like a makeshift microphone, shaking her hips in tune with the music just before she tossed the veggies in the skillet. AC/DC played from the dock on the counter, and he was grateful that he didn't have any friends over tonight. His Ma would embarrass him to the end of his days.
"You! Shook me all night long!"
Henry laughed out loud, causing his mother to turn and raise a questioning eyebrow."
"What?"
"Don't quit your day job, dear." His other mother walked into the kitchen, her arms barely holding up a box full of old books. Regina set the box onto the island and moved around it to kiss Henry on top of his head. "Hello, love."
"You love my singing," Emma argued, pointing accusingly with the oily spatula.
Regina simply smirked and made her way over to her wife, hands resting on Emma's hips. "Well aren't you the best damn woman that I ever seen."
Emma murmured her agreement before slowly dipping her head towards her wife.
"You guys are gross!" Henry yelled, making a show of pretending to gag.
"Then close your eyes." He wasn't fast enough to heed Emma's warning before the blonde tugged Regina in by the waist and kissed her deeply. "How was your day?"
"Long," Regina sighed though she stayed in Emma's grasp. "Re-opening the library after that flood is taking longer than I anticipated."
Emma kissed her temple then playfully swatted her backside when Regina stepped out of her space and headed back to her box of books. Henry stood and was already moving to help her carry the box into her home office, and by the time the duo returned, Emma was plating their sautéed veggies and baked chicken onto three place settings.
The family sat around the island, Henry at the head with his moms sitting side by side on his right. For the first time in weeks they were all able to share a family dinner with one another. As Mayor, Regina had been so preoccupied with reopening the town's library after a broken pipe flooded the space. The initial clearance of that had Emma pulling doubles for days, making sure no one tried to vandalize the area while it was vulnerable and helping Town Hall to get whatever could be salvaged out and dry. Now that they had a firm date to re-open, Regina herself was helping the town's librarian catalogue and sort all the books that had been saved and donated in the wake of the chaos, but more often than not, Emma would have to drive down to Town Hall and force Regina home. The brunette had been good on at least coming home before bed, but now that they were at the finish line, she was bringing boxes and boxes of books home to sort. It was a compromise, at least, and one they could live with for another few days.
"How was your day, sweetie?" Regina asked looking up to Henry.
The boy flipped his bangs out of his eyes and sat up excitedly. "We're doing a project at school about our family history."
"A good ol' family tree?" Emma guessed.
Henry shook his head. "Not a tree. Ms. Blanchard wants us to be more creative with it."
"So a poster board."
Regina shushed Emma with a light smack on her shoulder.
"I'm gonna do a comic!" Henry happily proclaimed. He reached to the free chair beside him and dropped a lined notebook onto the table. He flipped open to a fresh page and pulled the pencil from the spiral binding. "So. What was it like before I was born?"
"Quiet," Emma smirked.
Both brunettes glared before Regina turned towards her son. "What exactly do you need to know?"
"What are your backgrounds? Did Abuelo and Abuela immigrate here?"
"I don't have much to tell, kid," Emma answered honestly. Regina moved to rub her back as Emma looked affectionately between the two. "My first family is the only family I'll ever need and that's you and your Mom."
Henry rolled his eyes as the two women stared lovingly at each other. Sure, it was great that his moms still loved each other, but they didn't have to be so gross about it. A part of him was fearful to venture any further. Next thing he'd know he'd have to plug his ears at night. Whatever that meant. "Well, how did you two meet?"
"College," they both answered in tangent, though Regina was the one to continue. "I was doing political science, and your mother was in criminal psychology."
"Was it a love at first sight thing?"
Regina snorted. "Hardly. Your mother threw a football at my head."
"I didn't throw it at your head," the blonde argued, "I threw it to a friend who sucks at catching and it hit your head."
Henry barked out a laugh as his brunette mother fixed his blonde one with a steely-eyed glare.
"I love you?" Emma hoped, scrunching her face up and leaning in close.
Regina shook her head and turned back to Henry. "After your mother attacked me, she offered to buy me a coffee, and we began to see each other more frequently."
"She couldn't resist this." Emma motioned to her body with a proud wink. Both Regina and Henry groaned.
"So you've been together since college?" Henry asked.
Regina tilted her head from side to side. "More or less."
He scrunched up his face in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Before either women could clarify, a loud grumbling sounded from Emma's stomach and the blonde winced as she looked to her family imploringly. "Come on, kid, I am starving. Can we play Encyclopedia Brown after dinner?"
Picking up her fork, Regina shared a secret smile with Henry. "The stomach has spoken."
"Bow down before its might," he added.
"Ha ha," Emma snarked, forking a sautéed pepper into her mouth. "Your food will be history if you don't get to eating, kid."
"So what do you mean, more or less?" Henry questioned Regina later that night as he sat up in bed. His hair was brushed and his teeth clean, and all he needed now was to go to sleep. Despite his stifled yawn, Regina could tell his ever curious son wouldn't sleep until his questions were answered. She sat on his bed, urging him to lie down and tucked the sheets under him.
She stroked his hair back for a minute before answering. "Your mother had dreams of becoming Boston's Chief of Police. By the time we graduated, she had a position ready for her on the force."
"Why did you move back to Maine?"
"Mother needed help taking care of Abuelo," she answered. "I was starting my own career, and your mother was pursuing hers."
Henry scrunched up his face confused. Regina had to laugh. Despite being adopted, he had picked up on the little facial ticks both women were prone to doing, and he looked like Emma just then, DNA be damned. "You could have still been together."
Regina nodded with a sad smile. "Sometimes you have to do hard things for the people you love, even if you look like the bad guy. I'm sure you're not always happy with me whenever I have to ground you."
He nodded his understanding. "But you got together."
"We did." Both brunettes looked up to see Emma leaning against the door jamb with a knowing grin on her face. "I came knocking on her door a year later and we haven't been apart since. Nothing can keep your mom and me apart."
Henry smiled this time, letting the too sappy moment to sink in just this once before Emma came into the room and sat on the bed beside her wife. Regina started to hum, her rhythmic stroking on Henry's head lulling the boy into sleep as the song she always used to sing for him as a baby hung softly in the air. Within minutes, the boy was knocked out, and the two women grinned at each other as they stood.
"We did good with that one," Emma whispered, leading them out of his room and back downstairs.
"That we did." As they reached the main hall, Regina was already heading towards her office.
"You're still working?"
The brunette nodded before gently pushing Emma towards the living room. "Go catch your show."
They split up, and when Regina entered her office and saw the pile of boxes she still had to go through, she sighed heavily. It was going to be a long night. Tying her hair up, she got to work. She began by taking out the stack of books she had brought home with her. It was a mixture of history books, though they had to be categorized by period, and Belle had given her detailed instructions on how to assign them to their proper Dewey decimal system place. Regina used to think the librarian's job an easy one, but she'd gladly listen to civilian complaints all day long if it meant she didn't have to code another book. Sighing, she examined a dusty and rather smelly book, seeing its contents about the 16th century. She made a note in her laptop and set it aside before picking up the next one. The next half hour was spent doing just that, though she looked at the three other boxes she had yet to finish and mentally groaned. Next time, the library was getting eBooks.
Two strong arms wrapped around her waist, and she didn't think to flinch when a set of lips came to caress at the back of her neck.
"Hi, love," Regina whispered, letting her weight fall back in Emma's strong arms.
The blonde removed the book from her hand and hugged her close. "Come to bed."
"I have to work," Regina whined, though with Emma trailing her lips up and down her neck, she was near ready to throw in the towel.
"You've been working so late every night," Emma enticed, lightly tugging on the blouse tucked into her pants. "I can help you relax."
The moan she released couldn't be helped, so she turned swiftly and caught Emma's lips in a deep kiss. It took much force to pull away, but when she did, both their eyes were hooded and the air between them was heated. "Just let me sort one box, and I'll be up."
Emma nodded and gave another chaste kiss. "Do you need help?"
Regina shook her head. "Go upstairs, I won't be long."
With a wink, the blonde departed, and Regina turned back towards the box, desperately trying to get her concentration in check. With Emma in that sort of mood, she would be lucky if she didn't follow her wife out now, but the looming pile of boxes waited to be sorted through was just as effective as a cold shower. If she finished quickly, then she could meet Emma upstairs sooner rather than later.
She attacked the box with new gusto, and an hour later, she was reaching for the last book in the box. It was a strange one, different from the preserved and plain hardcovers of all the other books before it. Small, leather-bound, with symbols etched into its skin, Regina thought this book was an antique. It must have been donated by someone. Probably the old pawn keeper who had an unhealthy obsession with the librarian. Shrugging, she flipped open to a random page, and her eyes widened in surprise. The book wasn't even in English, and the language it was in was foreign to her. Purple symbols, akin to hieroglyphics, stared up at her, and she pulled the book up to her face for a closer inspection. She didn't realize the deep inhale of breathe she had taken just then would lift the words off the page and filter deep into her body. She didn't have time to. Her head started to spin, and the room began to blur. The last thing she remembered before her vision blacked out was Henry calling her name and trying to catch her fall.
His head was spinning. The last time Henry felt this bad, he had crashed his skateboard into the middle of the street and knocked his head on the concrete something fierce. That had involved a broken wrist, but this pain, it was more throbbing than anything, like a headache that wouldn't go away. Slowly, his eyes drifted open, but he shut them immediately when he was met with the jarring rays of the sun. Shifting in his spot, he noticed that he was most definitely not in his bed anymore. He wasn't even in his house. The ground below him was rough, and as he moved, he could hear twigs snap and leaves rustle under his weight. Cautiously he opened his eyes again, more expectant this time.
The sun beamed down on him, shining brightly in a cloudless blue sky, but all around him were trees. He was in a forest. Storybrooke's forest was a long way from his place on Mifflin, but the air tasted different, cleaner, nothing like the salty air back home. Slowly, he sat up and wiped the dirt off his hands. There was another shock. What happened to his clothes? He remembered pulling on his pyjamas before going to bed, but now he was in...a tunic? He felt like something out of a renaissance fair with the loose beige shirt under a leather vest. He moved to his feet and stared at his leather breeches and boots. This had to be a dream.
The forest was empty as he looked around its woods, but just off in the distance down the hill, he could make out a cleared path. Maybe he could get home and—his heart stop beating for a minute. Where was Mom?! His feet moved on their own accord as he raced to the path, keeping an eye out for any sign of his brunette mother. His footing faltered for just a moment when he realized he had no idea where his Ma was either. She'd know what to do. Running faster, he made it to the path, out of breath and panting. He looked up and down the road, and all he could see were gravel and trees and dirt.
His heart beat rapidly in his chest. His mothers always warned him to stay close, to hold their hand so he didn't get lost. Here he was, lost, in the woods of all places, and already Henry could feel tears burn his eyes. He wanted to go home. A part of him just wanted to stay where he was, hoping desperately that his mothers would find him, but something inside him told him that he had to move forward.
He ended up choosing turning right, heading up the path hoping to find some sort of civilization. Maybe this was just some really intense cosplay event and he'd find event planners on his way, but as the sun rose high in the sky then slowly began to make its descent, he hadn't encountered another person yet.
His feet were starting to hurt, and he was pretty sure he was getting a sunburn. His Mom was going to kill him if he didn't put sunblock on. The sudden thought that nightfall was going to happen eventually made him pick up his pace. What if there were wolves in the forest? Or worse.
For the first time in hours, his thoughts were interrupted by something more than his rumbling stomach. Up ahead, a dust cloud had formed and he could make out the tops of heads. His eyes nearly bugged out his eyes. Those were horses. Not only that, but they were knights on horses! Moving to the side, he jumped up and down frantically, waving his arms to get their attention. Despite the blistering heat, the knights were clad from head to toe in metallic black armour, a red feather shooting out from their helm.
"Hey!" Henry called out. "Hey, stop! I need help."
Their gallop came to a trot, and the group of four riders slowed in front of the boy. Henry ran up to the lead rider with a look of relief on his face. "Please, you have to help me."
"What do we have here?" The lead rider lifted his helm, and Henry was so relieved to see a familiar face.
"Deputy Jones!" He ran up to the man, but his black steed neighed and reared up on its hind legs. Henry screamed and fell backwards in fright, his hands scraping against dirt road.
Henry scurried backwards as the man that looked just like his Mom's deputy slid off the horse and took determined steps toward him. Deputy Jones had always been really nice to him. Killian let him play his guitar whenever the deputy had a gig after his shift, and he always kept a pack of gum for Henry to take whenever he hung out at the Sheriff's station after school. But this man—he was not Killian Jones. His eyes were dark and his presence was looming over his like a tower.
"Where are the others, boy?" Killian's gruff accented voice asked. He motioned to the other three riders. "Look to the trees. They could be hiding."
"Others?" Henry squeaked.
"We know your ruse, lad." Darting forward, Killian reached out and grabbed Henry by the front of his leather vest, lifting him off the ground. He whimpered as he held onto the man's fist tightly.
"I-I don't have a ruse."
"What is it this time? You haven't eaten for weeks and you're simply looking for food?" Killian wondered. "Or your injured Mum is just further into the woods and she needs our help to get her to a healer?"
"I-I don't know where my moms are," Henry admitted. "Please, Dep-Mister. I just want to go home."
Killian and his men laughed. "Lost in the woods? We haven't had that one in a while, haven't we, boys?"
They nodded their agreement, as Killian turned a deadly snare upon the boy. "The Queen will make an example of you yet." He pulled his hand back, and Henry recoiled back desperately trying to cover his face from the impact.
He prepared himself for the hit, but instead he felt the hard earth beneath him and the groan of the man who had held him captive. Killian was screaming out, gripping his bare hand that now had a small dagger embedded through the palm, blood pouring down his wrist.
"It's the Saviour!" Killian roared. "Get him!"
As the knights scrambled in all directions to find the source of the dagger, Henry leapt to his feet and began running. He got three steps away before Killian grabbed him by the back of the collar with his good hand.
"Not so fast," he growled.
Emma had always taught Henry to yell out whenever he needed help or was in trouble. Scream as loud as he could and she'd find him anywhere. But this time, he was too scared to scream. His voice wouldn't form words, and all he wanted was his moms. The hand released him, and he clattered to the ground once more. Instinct took over as he didn't bother to look at the reason why Killian had let him go, and his focus was on just getting away.
But a cloaked figure leaped over him, and the unfamiliar sound of metal against metal clanged right behind him, and Henry couldn't help but to take a peak. His eyes bugged out of his head. They were actually sword fighting. The cloaked figure was duelling with Killian, and as soon as the rest of the knights heard the clash of weaponry, they came to their leader's defense.
One was about to take a swipe out of his saviour's back. "Watch out!" Henry called.
But the figure in the shimmery white cloak already saw it coming and evaded the attack, kicking that guard over with a boot to the chest. Henry had no idea how this guy could see with the hood over their head, but he had seen stranger things being in this place. Knocking Killian and another guard over, the figure gazed at Henry. The boy only knew that from the hairs prickling at the back of his neck, and soon, the stranger was running towards him, cape billowing behind them.
"Run," was the only thing they said as they pushed Henry towards the woods.
He hesitated, debating whether going with this stranger was just as a death sentence as waving the knights down, but then an arrow struck the dirt just over his head, and his mind was made up. He ran with the Saviour at his back like their cloak was a shield, but then he heard a grunt, high and feminine, and before he could think to turn back, their insistent "go" was enough to push forward. He ran and ran until his lungs burned and his legs felt like jelly. Leaping over rocks and ducking under branches, Henry didn't stop until a hand had gripped his shoulder. He flinched and tried to fight back, but he fell in his fear, staring up at the person who had saved his life.
His heavy panting was the only thing in the quiet forest. The Saviour loomed over him, still cloaked and looking down on him with intensity. If he wanted to kill Henry then, he would have done it already.
"You're hurt." Henry's gaze zeroed in on the red staining the shimmery white robe at the person's shoulder.
The Saviour looked down at their arm and shrugged before removing their hood.
His heart stopped.
"Ma!" Henry leaped to his feet and wrapped his arms around his blonde mother. He knew she would find him. He knew it. "Ma, you're here!"
"Easy, kid." Emma shimmied out of his grasp, and even though she didn't push him away, he stepped back hurt. "I'm not your mother."
"What?" Tears welled up in his eyes again. First Deputy Jones and now his Ma. He couldn't deal. "N-no. No you are. Emma, you're my mom. It's me, Henry."
The blonde froze. "How do you know my name?"
"I just said!" He stood up angrily. "You're my mom!"
"Quiet, kid!" Emma hissed, darting forward and bringing a hand up to cover Henry's mouth. "The Queen's Guards are still on our trail."
She didn't release her hold on his mouth until he nodded, and as soon as she let him go, he wrapped his arms around her neck once more. "I want to go home."
Emma sighed this time and let him hold onto her, but when he started to sniffle, she gently released his grip from her neck.
"Please," Henry begged. "You have to help me find Mom."
"See, kid?" Emma said as she straightened. "You've already got a mom."
He rolled his eyes, more frustrated now than he was sad. "My other mom. You're married. I have two."
She had stepped past him and paused, turning to stare at him with a questioning smirk on her face. "Married? I'm definitely not your mom."
"You do, you love her, and the last thing I remember was her passing out in her office, and then I woke up and she was gone and I'm here."
"Didn't your parents ever tell you not to eat the blue mushrooms?"
"Ma!"
Emma continued on forward, shrugging off her cloak and draping it over the nape of her arm. Underneath, she spotted something similar to what he was wearing but instead of brown leathers, hers were blue. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and the spot on her arm where the arrow grazed was staining the white tunic shirt bright red. She didn't look back at him as she spoke. "If I was married, and deeply in love like you say, don't you think I'd remember the beautiful woman who captivated my heart?"
"I don't know why I'm the only one who remembers, but I do, and I need to find you and Mom and get back home."
"What are you doing out in the woods, anyway?"
"I told you," he said through gritted teeth. "I woke up here."
She sighed and made her way between two gnarled trees with a giant boulder in the middle of it. With much effort, she pushed aside the rock to reveal a man-made fox hole before looking to Henry expectantly. "Get in and I'll take you to your village."
"I don't know where that is."
"Then you better remember quickly." With that she jumped into the fox hole, and Henry was left standing alone.
His mom didn't recognize him. And she was living in a hole in the ground. He still had no idea where his other mother was, and the one he already did find looked at him like he was a pain. Something was up, and he was determined to find out.
Henry slid into the fox hole where Emma stood waiting. As soon as his bottom hit the floor with his graceless entrance, she pinned up a net of leaves over the hole and turned to the room. It was bigger than Henry anticipated. Not huge like his home back in Storybrooke, but there were a few blankets spread out in the corner, a tiny table in the centre of the room, and all along the walls were weapons. He gulped when his Ma moved to the table and lit a gas light, illuminating the whole hovel. With the new light, he could see hand-made spears, a collection of swords, and a handful of daggers.
"No bow and arrow?" Henry teased though really he was hoping his Ma wasn't a psychotic murderer in this land like Deputy Jones was.
Emma froze with her hand on the sleeve of her wounded arm. "Not my weapon," she mumbled.
Ripping the arm off her sleeve, Henry winced when he saw the deep gash on his mother's arm. Emma hissed as she moved to a small pot in the corner. She filled a small cup with water and used her ripped sleeve to soak it up like a sponge. She held the cloth up to her wound and tensed.
"You need a doctor," Henry said as he walked closer to her.
"The only one I trust is in the Eastern Kingdom, and I can't go back there."
"Why?" He didn't need an answer when he looked up around the hovel, and on the wall by the entrance was a wanted sign, aged and worn and full of pierced holes as if someone had thrown daggers at it, with none other this mom's picture on it. "What did you do?"
"It's what I wouldn't do," she grumbled. She moved the wet cloth and tore at the other sleeve, using the dry one as a wrap. Her teeth held on to the end of the wrap as she tied it around her wound. When Henry moved to help her, she growled and shifted away before she knotted off the end and tucked the strands under the wrapping.
"What about other doctors?"
"They won't help me."
"Maybe the Queen can help," Henry offered and was already heading back towards the entrance. Emma leaped and grabbed the back of his shirt.
"No way, kid. She's the last person who'd help."
Henry scrunched up his face in thought. "Why?"
"You can't just go to the Queen and ask favours," Emma answered.
"But she's the Queen, she's supposed to help people."
"Well," Emma sighed and released his shirt. "She won't help me."
He watched as Emma's shoulders fell and her eyes darkened with knowledge that he was itching to learn. "It was her, wasn't it? You wouldn't do something for her."
"It was a couple of years ago." Emma shook her head and returned to the table, kicking off her boots and resting her sore feet on the edge. Slowly she started to massage her calf. "Trust me when I say me and Regina didn't leave off on the best of terms."
His jaw slackened. "Regina? You mean the Queen."
"Seriously, kid? Where are you from?"
He ignored her question as he stepped forward. "The Queen is Regina?"
"I just said that." She scrunched up her face in the same way Henry had when he had been aggravated.
"She's my mom!"
She stilled her movements, and her face paled. "She's your mom?"
"And so are you."
She ignored his repetitive claim. "Regina is your mom."
He huffed and shrugged out his hands, not wanting to clarify one more time.
"Regina—" Emma stuttered before she swung her feet to the ground and eyed him carefully. "How old are you?"
"Ten," he said with a lift to his undefined jaw.
"That's impossible," Emma deadpanned as she stood, defensive and angry. "I was with her for—since she was still a princess. Where the hell did she hide you?"
He groaned, rubbing his hands down his face and marring his cheeks with dirt. "I already told you, I'm—"
Emma didn't let him finish. Instead, she rushed to remove her leathers and don a fresh tunic before putting her vest back on and stuffing her feet into her boots. "Listen, kid, I don't know who you are, but you gotta go back to whatever fantasy world you come from."
"Fantasy world?" Henry hissed with a stomp of his foot. "Do you see where you live?"
"This is the real world, Henry." She strapped a sword to her waist and two daggers into either boot. "I don't know how hard Killian must have dropped you, but you can't be running into the Eastern Kingdom yelling that Regina is your mom, okay? You'll get both of you killed. Whoever put you up to this didn't pay you enough."
"What are you—You have to come with me and we can—" Henry didn't get the chance to finish his sentence when Emma lifted him up onto her shoulder and headed for the entrance. He shrieked out in surprise. "Ma!"
"I'll take you to an inn in the White Kingdom, and if we're lucky, your mommy and daddy or fairy godmother will find you." She pulled back the protective leaf curtain and dropped Henry unceremoniously onto the levelled ground. "In the meantime, call me Emma, kid."
Regina was seeing red as she paced her chambers, taking in the latest disastrous encounter her guards had filled her in for. All they were tasked with was simply to facilitate the journey of White Farmers bringing crops to the Eastern Kingdom. Of course they had been met with an ambush upon their return. With a child and the Saviour, no less. Usually Snow's supporters had a more elaborate plan than a boy lost in the woods. They'd saw a tree down to block the path or pretend their cart's wheel needed some fixing, but the boy, that one was new.
"The child seemed alone at first, Your Majesty," Killian argued, nursing his wrapped hand. "He seemed to have intimate knowledge of our force. He called me by my name."
"I'm sure half the maidens had the pleasure of learning your name," Regina drawled. When Killian smirked, she added, "when they were telling their husbands just whom was harassing them that night."
He glowered as his eyes cast downward to the slab flooring. When he looked up again, he asked, "How were we to know he was working with the Saviour?"
"Forget the child, why are you so incompetent that you cannot bring me a cloaked ghost every time you see them?" Regina snapped.
"He took us—"
"By surprise?" Regina guessed. "Why am I not shocked? Over and over they slip from your grasp. When I announced you Captain of the Guard two years ago, I was hoping you were capable of following orders."
Killian stepped forward. "We'll do better next time."
Regina turned with a wave of her hand, and Killian no longer cared about his bloody palm. He choked as he struggled to free the invisible hold against his neck. She waited a little, lips twitching with every garbled sound from the Captain before she granted mercy on him. He fell to the floor in heap just as he got blue to the face.
"Yes, you will," she stated, sauntering over to his crumpled body.
He coughed harshly against her floor, struggling to meet her darkened gaze with his watery steel blue eyes.
"And Captain?" With another wave of her hand, his bandaged palm was gone leaving nothing but a stub. He yelped, clutching the wrist of his missing limb before a puff of purple smoke surrounded it once more, and his hand was replaced with nothing other than a hook. "Next time, make sure you don't miss."
She dismissed him, flinging her doors open and whipping him out of her chambers as the wood slammed close in his wake. She thought she'd be able to take her anger out on Killian, but her blood still boiled. It had been three years since Snow, precious young Queen of the White Kingdom, had broken their treaty. The insipid little girl who was barely a woman thought she could cripple Regina, stop supplying them with fertile crops and she could take the Eastern Kingdom by storm. Oh what a grave mistake that turned out to be.
After Regina stabilized her land from near starvation, she took the White Kingdom by force, since then, earning the title of the Evil Queen. She scoffed at the name. Made up by the resistance of the White Kingdom who stirred their followers into believing what she had done was monstrous. Her people praised her for fighting back, retaliating in the war started upon them, but there were still supporters among Snow's land who thought her brutal, maniacal, evil. Perhaps their not-so-innocent Queen should have thought about the consequences of her actions before starting a war she couldn't finish. She forced the White Kingdom to swear fealty to her, lest they want to meet the same fate as their Queen, brandished as a traitor. Nearly all of them had fallen in line, but there were still a handful of rebellions afoot, plotting Regina's demise. If she could crush Snow's heart in front of all the masses then these stupid little attacks on the side of the road and pathetic little raids of her kingdom's shops could be put to an end. Snuff out the light and the rest will fall in line. She had been close once to officially put an end between the tensions of the two kingdoms, but the young queen had escaped and Regina had lost her former Captain from it.
Regina was certain that this Saviour lurking in the woods was Snow in hiding. Her men could only comprehend being bested by another man, but she knew the grace of a woman, lithe and careful movements but backed by a quiet power. Her guards were strong yes, and the only one who could help had betrayed her long ago. Perhaps now, though, they'd have a change of heart.
She whipped away from her balcony and marched over to her vanity, immediately met by the shimmering face of the Genie.
"Your Majesty," he greeted with a dutiful nod. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Her eyes darkened as both hands clasped the edge of the mirror. "You know what I want."
His lips twitched into a smirk. "I'll find you Emma."