Hello Everyone... This is my first ever Swan Queen fanfic, so please... be gentle :) The story is rated (M) - I thought it will be necessary & there's a lot of swearing in the first chapter (I tried to enter mind of very angry person).
One more thing: English is not "Mother Tongue" so please forgive me for any grammar mistakes. I sincerly hope it will be "readable".
I'd like to thank my woderfull and amazing beta Amanda, who is helping me with "proper" use of English language.
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Prelude:
"Where The Author Try To Make The Reader Very Angry... But Still Gives Him/Her A Little Hope..."
The anger is everywhere.
You feel it deep in your skin and it consumes all rational thought you have.
You try to keep it at bay; you really do, but you sense you are starting to fail.
It's scary, because you haven't felt like that in a long, no, a very long time. Not since a maddening blonde entered your town and claimed your son as her own.
"Fuck it!" you scream internally, catching yourself from shouting a loud in feels like the last moment of sanity.
If you didn't stop yourself the magic flowing thru your veins would explode, destroying everything and everyone on your path.
You need to remind yourself that you are not like that anymore.
The Evil Queen will always be the part of you, but now you have control over her. The old you would have probably already killed someone.
And the result? Losing everything you've worked so hard for.
Damn!
You take a breath trying to calm your nerves.
You look around, and with surprise, notice that you are in the harbor. You don't remember how you got here.
Your hands are holding the railing with so much force that you start feeling a pain. You commands your muscles to relax, take another deep breath and feel the fraction of tension to leave your body.
It's not enough.
It will never be enough.
You know just like you know your own past . . . but at least it's something.
'Regina in control is far less homicidal', you think to yourself, and a wry smile ghosts across your lips.
Breathe in . . .
Breathe out . . .
Breathe in . . .
Your thoughts wander to a time, not so long ago, to the time when you thought you had it!
When you had a real chance for happiness.
One single chance!
You didn't ask for anything more - just this one stupid thing.
And then, you had it.
At least for a moment.
One shining moment.
You were . . . okay.
You had some, dare you say it, friends; or at the least, people who had started to respect you.
You had your son: your lovely little prince who believed in you, who told you he loved you, and who called you a hero. You felt his love and his acceptance for the first time since he was given that dreadful book.
You smile a little when you imagine his face in your mind.
Henry Mills. Your little prince.
. . .
But traitorous thoughts turn his picture into something different.
Into the truth
. . .
The truth is you thought you had a chance for love. And once again you feel the anger boiling in your body.
Fight it!
One more time you push it down, feeling the crackling of magic trying to explode from your fingertips.
You had your chance.
You had your chance for love.
. . .
Damn it all to hell!
. . .
You are not a stupid woman. Far from it.
You know you took a chance by accelerating things a little.
You know that when you were in his presence you lowered your guard down just to have this little chance for happiness.
Just for this little possibility to love. To be loved.
. . .
Fuck fairy dust!
Fuck Tinkerbelle!
Fuck soul mates!
Fuck lion tattoos!
Fuck Robin Hood and his resurrected wife!
Fuck everything!
. . .
The anger is back with a vengeance and this time you almost can't control it.
But then you think about Henry once again, and the fire in your veins subsides for the moment.
. . .
Robin-Freaking-Hood!
To hell with him and to hell with his forest smell!
You didn't love him.
At least, not yet.
Thank god for small favors and thank god that you weren't that stupid to have actually fallen in love in him!
But . . .
But you know you liked him.
You admit that to yourself . . . and you also know that you hoped that he could be the one. That one person who could accept you because for who you are and not who you were.
And now? It is all lost!
He was your chance to start over.
He was your chance to be happy.
He was your chance to be . . . what? Loved?
Yes . . . to be loved . . . to be happy . . .to be Regina. Just Regina.
. . .
Fuck him!
He can go to hell for what it's worth!
Yes! To hell with love!
You never had it. Not really. So why should the present be any different?
It is all pointless.
Your thoughts whisper incessantly to you, telling you that it never was never written in the stars. That it was just a chance. A simple, one-time chance to have something . . . meaningful.
And it's gone now.
You try to convince yourself that it would probably have failed anyway.
But you don't care.
You don't have it now.
You lost it . . .
No!
You didn't lose it! It was taken from you!
Your last chance for happiness was taken from you!
Once again someone's actions hurt you in the worst way imaginable.
Once again you were betrayed by someone who you trusted.
You were betrayed by someone you l...
No! No, no, no, no, no!
. . .
Damn you, Emma!
. . .
Now everything is lost. All because of HER!
And suddenly, your anger is back in spades.
You know you are alone in the harbor, so you feel that you can scream freely because of and from your pain.
Because of lost chances . . .
Because of lost friendships . . .
Because of lost trust . . .
Because it was HER who betrayed you!
. . .
This time you don't stop yourself and let the magic explode.
. . .
The fireball is small, but one of the most powerful you've ever created.
. . .
You shoot it into the sky, because you know that if you directed it to the ground – its power would destroy this half of Storybrooke.
. . .
You scream again, and you watch how the fireball disappears into the dark night sky; almost wishing for it to turn the night into day.
But it is not happening and you observe how your magic goes up and up until it finally disappears.
Gone.
Just like your chances for your happy ending.
. . .
You taste the salt on your lips and you realize that you are crying.
You shake your head.
No!
You will not cry because of her.
She does not deserve it! She is not worth it.
Fuck you, Emma Swan!
Fuck everything you stand for!
. . .
The tears are flowing freely from your eyes but you don't feel them . . . and what's more important, you don't care.
"Why did she do it?" you ask the night. "Why?"
It was going so well . . .
You started to respect each other.
You understood that you were in each other lives for better and for worse. It started because of Henry, but it changed and evolved. Years of knowing each other do that to the people.
Whether you want it or not, as time passes, one way or another you really get each other.
You start to accept that other person...
You accepted her into your life and the life of your son.
. . .
Bitch!
. . .
You trusted her.
You respected her.
You admired her.
You liked her.
You even thought that someday you could love . . .
. . .
No.
You don't dare to finish this last thought, and once again you feel the anger flowing in your veins. You smell the taste of it on the tip of your tongue.
. . .
The Betrayal!
She betrayed you and you hate her with the fire of a thousand suns.
Fucking Savior!
Fucking White Knight!
Damn her and her noble deeds!
Yes! You hate her!
You hate her because of what she did to you.
She took your chance for happiness and crushed it under her shoe.
As always, she acted on impulse, without a care as to how it will affect anything in the future . . .
How it will affect you!
How it will affect . . . her.
. . .
Stupid Swan! Stupid . . . Idiotic . . . Moronic . . . Swan!
How it is possible for a hero to be so thoughtless?
How!?
Changing the past in a major (or even minor) way creates an impossible-to-predict outcome. It's the same with magic: she knew that all magic comes with the price. She knows it!
So why the hell did she think that she can fuck with time?
Time!
The most powerful force in existence!
Even Rumple was afraid to mess with it . . . but moronic Swan treated it like her own playground.
Stupid Savior!
Boo-hoo! "I saved the life of Robin's wife! I'm so awesome! I'm so brave!". . . Big deal!
What about it, you moron?!
She was sentenced to death? So? In the Enchanted Forest, threats of death were a daily occurrence. Especially if you crossed paths with her old self.
She said that Marian was due to be executed under her orders, and Emm . . . Swan just couldn't allow that if she could help it.
There's that famous Charming (idiot) hero complex in all its glory!
Fuck it!
You need to think before you do something like that!
. . .
Idiot Swan!
. . .
What if Marian wasn't supposed to die in my castle first time around? Huh, you didn't thought of that, don't you?
What if Marian was destined to escape before her execution? What if she was fated to later save Snow's or Charming's life?
You didn't think about that, Emma? Did you?
Of course not!
You stupid, stupid Swan!
. . .
What if your actions put one or both of your parents in impossible situation; one that resulted in their death? All because Maid Marian wouldn't be there to save them?
What would happen then my brave Savior?
You wouldn't exist you asshole!
Henry would not exist!
If Snow were dead, there wouldn't be need for any curse!
Everything would change.
All because of single . . .
Stupid . . .
Moronic . . .
Unthinking . . .
Act of so called heroism!
Hmph.
. . .
Once again she tasted tears on her lips, and this time, sighed.
Emma Swan.
The biggest idiot of them all.
. . .
And the anger was back again.
Her feelings were all a jumbled mess. She could feel them, swirling anxiously, angrily, beneath the surface, churning her stomach. She could almost taste them. Some were sweet, some sour . . . all mixed into one ball of emotional heartburn, making her queasy and sick.
She needed to do something. Anything. Something to get rid of it all.
All those pesky unwanted feelings.
She slowly moved her hand to her chest and she felt strong beat of her heart.
She clenched her fingers, thinking how with one swift move, all those feelings would be much more bearable. Muted.
She's done it before.
She's did it when Zelena wreaked havoc in her town.
One swift move.
One quick grab.
One black, broken heart in her hand.
She wouldn't even feel it. She could simply ferret it away and lock in the deepest corner of her vault.
If no one wants your heart, why did you need one?
She still could love Henry without her heart, right?
Without her heart she wouldn't be feeling all this sadness. She wouldn't care about Robin and Marian; about all those idiots roaming her town. She wouldn't be sad about her sister's apparent suicide; she wouldn't care about Emma Swan and her betrayal.
She could do it . . .
Her fingers entered her chest . . . no one would care, right?
"I've always hated when you turned to this as a last resort, Regina, so please, stop it right now."
Emma!
. . .
With the sound of her nemesis's voice so close by, Regina's hand jerked reflexively away from her chest.
Clutching the rail in front of her, she angrily but firmly uttered, "Go away, Miss Swan."
She couldn't breathe. Her head was spinning dizzily, but her anger was boiling inside her like a volcano waiting for eruption.
"Can't do it," came the quiet reply behind her back.
"This . . . is . . . your . . . last . . . warning, Emma." She struggled with the words. "If you don't go away, right now, I will hurt you."
The silence behind her lasted only seconds.
"No you won't, Regina. You never have."
What?!
That was it! She's fucking done it!
Fury filed her completely and without a thought she turned around, creating fireball in her hand as she spun in place to face Emma.
"How dare you presu . . ." and froze in shock. The fireball vanished in a puff of smoke, but Regina didn't notice. Her anger was abruptly gone, replaced by complete confusion and astonishment as she took in the other woman's appearance.
"Em . . . Emma?" She never stuttered in her life, but she simply couldn't help it this time.
The blonde smiled widely, and Regina saw traces of tears glistening in her eyes.
"Yep, it's me!"
Gobsmacked, Regina exhaled loudly, still unbelieving what she was seeing.
In front of her stood Emma Swan, but it wasn't the Emma Swan she knew. It wasn't . . . her Emma. This was someone different. Someone changed. What in the hell was going on?
"You . . . you are not from here, exactly, are you?" she asked, just to be sure, even if she knew the answer.
The woman in front of her shook her head. "No, I'm not."
She was . . . older. Regina noticed this immediately. Not that she looked old per se, not like a Granny. but physically, the other Emma looked around ten to fifteen years older than her current Storybrooke self.
Her hair was still blonde, but shorter; the tips just grazing her shoulders.
She had few of wrinkles, especially around her eyes, but she still looked . . .
Regina's thoughts stopped her cold.
She still looked beautiful.
Oh God almighty! What the hell was going on?!
. . .
But the most important feature of the "new" Emma was her eyes. Those god-awful-piercing-amazing-beautiful-soul-searching eyes of hers.
Regina had seen eyes in others, many, many years ago.
There were magical creatures in Enchanted Forrest who lived long lives; much longer than the typical human lifespan, and you could see in their eyes that they possessed that deep wisdom which comes only with age. Wisdom, yes, and power; but also true strength, sadness, and sorrow.
Sadness of the days gone by, and sorrow of years and lives never to be seen again. For these creatures often outlived everyone they loved.
And now she saw it in the eyes of this familiar, and yet at the same time unfamiliar, woman.
Emma Swan.
. . .
She heard her trembling voice before she even caught on to the fact that she was speaking once again.
"You are . . . old," she whispered.
She saw the twinkle in eyes of the other Emma. That familiar twinkle that told her she was really her Emma; a different her, but her nonetheless.
"Why thank you, step-grandma!" this older Emma laughed. "You're not a spring chicken yourself, remember?"
The "step-grandma" comment abruptly returned clarity to her mind.
"Shut up!" she barked. "You know very well what I meant."
Older Savior nodded.
"Yes, I know and . . . you are right. I am old! Or, older, at least."
The former Evil Queen swallowed loudly.
"Will you tell me how old?"
Emma nodded again.
"I will tell you everything, Regina. I promise"
Regina gasped.
"Everything?"
"Everything."
Regina made took a first, cautious step toward her.
"Why?"
Emma send her a sad smile.
"Because I am going to change a future, and you will be the only one who knows about it."
. . .
tbc...
