Author's Note: My 7th and last entry for this Swan Queen Week…! I can't believe it's over already. It's been a great ride, and I'd like to thank all of you for reading, and to lacepriest and dennie 99617 for following this story. It means the world to me.

You can read this like the distant continuation of yesterday's post, or as something completely independent. You can even link all the posts together if you want, I think they could fit together pretty well :) I still own nothing, except for my very own little Swen baby.

Set in the future, established SQ. Swan-Mills family feels included.

Enjoy!


Any parent is proud of their child. At least, that was the case in Storybrooke. Every school fair, every sporting event, every celebration was the occasion for children to show off their talents and for parents to adoringly babble about their offspring's achievements.

Regina and Emma were no exception to that rule. They knew for sure that they had raised healthy, emotionally balanced, intelligent and beautiful children, and that no other child could take them on in any competitive setting. A spelling bee contest, a soccer game, a math test, a talent competition? Henry and Dana had it covered.

For a long time, Regina and Emma had been persuaded that being proud of their children meant celebrating their victories, whether big or small. It meant shedding a couple of tears at Henry's high school graduation and framing his letter of acceptance to Boston College. It meant cheering for each and every of Dana's goal at her soccer games and taking pictures of her from every angle (and sending them to Snow and David, who were at least patient enough not to comment on the number of pictures). It meant proudly displaying each and every of the children's trophies, medals and diplomas anywhere and everywhere in the house.

Pride, however, suddenly gained a different meaning for them.

Dana came home from school one day, visibly upset by something that she refused to talk about. She'd quickly gone up to her room, and as Regina went upstairs to check on her she heard he speaking on the phone. As she pressed her ear to the bedroom door, Regina realized Dana was speaking with Henry, which was surprising in itself: now that he was back from college and lived in his own apartment in Storybrooke, Dana rarely spoke to him on the phone since she hung out with him almost every single day.

"No, it's just that… I know, Henry, but I don't w ant to upset them! It's not their fault!"

Regina could hear her daughter was fighting off tears, and she felt her stomach twisting. What could be upsetting her little girl so much?

After a pause (Henry must have been saying something); Dana spoke up again. This time, it was clear that she was crying.

"I don't know why I'm reacting this way. I don't even want to go to that stupid dance anyway!"

That's when Regina understood. The school was organizing a father-daughter dance at the end of the month, and all students were invited, an idea of non other than Snow White. Regina clenched her teeth and cursed under her breath. Stepping away from the door, she went to look for Emma.

Days went and gone. Regina had calmed down since overhearing Dana's conversation with her brother: Dana had never expressed any sadness or resentment over having two mothers and no father, and there was not much of a reason to think she would be so distraught by the dance. But, as it appears after Emma and Regina's conjoint investigation, all of Dana's friends were going and she was feeling left out. Emma had suggested asking David to take her and turn the night into a "girl and any male family member" dance, but Regina had pointed out that David would be taking his own daughter to the dance. Holly was a year older than Dana, and as a student of the school she had of course been invited as well.

While Emma and Regina had resigned to seeing their daughter sulk until the big day and gad planned to make the evening into the biggest girls' night they'd ever had, they didn't know that their son had other plans.

That's why, on a Friday night, they'd be pleasantly surprised to find Henry in the living room, dressed in a fancy suit and even wearing a tie. Dana had laughed out right upon seeing him dressed like this, up until the point she had realized what exactly Henry was doing there.

Dana squealed with delight when he told her to go get dressed, that he was taking her to the dance, and to Hell with those who'd argue he wasn't her dad: he was her big brother, and if she wanted to go to this dance, then he'd damn right take her.

Regina had gone upstairs with Dana to help her get ready, taking an impressive number of pictures in the process (it was, after all, Dana's first dance). When she and Dana had gone back downstairs, with the little girl dressed into a beautiful dark purple dress and her hair half-up, Emma's throat tightened and Henry winked at his sister.

As they sent their children off to the dance, Emma taking Regina's hand into her own, both women felt immensely proud of their children. They may have raised two intelligent and gifted children, both particularly beautiful (Emma's saying) and promised to a great future (Regina's saying), but they had also succeeded in raising an incredibly kind son, who had just taken out his ten-year-old sister (who'd been so thoughtful she didn't want to bother her mothers with what she called "this whole dad thing") without even being asked to. In that moment, no trophies or good grades mattered, but only the smile on both of their kids' faces as Henry opened the car door for his little sister.

Yes, Emma and Regina had definitely raised good children and, in that moment, they couldn't help but be at least a little bit proud of themselves.