Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon A Time or the characters or settings therein. This is a work of fanfiction created for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made from this story.
Additional Disclaimer: Today's chapter title comes, once again, from the musical The Phantom of the Opera.
Important Author's Note: I debated with myself where to put this note, or if I should even add it at all, but in the end, I feel like I have to head off anyone who may want my head. I want to make a few things clear. The first is that I like Regina. I like who she is as a character, where she's come from, how she evolved from an emotionally abused girl to a lonely and spiteful woman, a desperate mother, and finally to this new version, Regina 2.0 as it were: a woman who has earned the respect and the trust of those she once terrorized. Once again, let me reiterate, I LIKE REGINA.
That being said, this fic takes place in a different timeline than the show does. The Regina in this fic has made many different choices, and her path has diverged from the Regina we know from Once Upon A Time. This fic is not titled "Nodus Tollens" for nothing. Killian is not the only one who has had the plot of his life (the one that we watch every Sunday night) twisted into a story that does not make sense to him anymore. Everyone's plot has changed because, in this fic, Regina made one choice differently than what we know happened: she did not kill her father to enact the Dark Curse. This fic is a study in how one alternate choice can affect so many different people in different ways.
And this Regina has not had a redemption arc. This Regina has never had to face the fact that she is largely the author of her own unhappiness. This Regina still believes that the bad things that have happened to her are always Someone Else's fault. This Regina has spent over three decades in full-on Evil Queen-mode. She has seen in her life that being and doing evil will get her what she wants. She won! Snow White is dead. The kingdom is hers. She has no reason to want to change. This Regina lives in darkness, and she likes it that way. This Regina is at the height of her villainy, and every choice she makes is a reflection of her character as she is here and now: the Evil Queen, ruler of three kingdoms, feared by all.
So be kind, dear readers. Life is cruel, and bad things happen. Evil begets evil.
Chapter 13: Am I to Risk My Life?
Killian wondered at how he and Swan had gotten out of the village unseen. Emma had sent her father and the dwarves on a wild goose chase—no pun intended—while Killian had saddled a pair of horses. Still, that no one had seen them leave, nor had attempted to stop them if they had, was surprising. Killian decided to take it as a sign that he was doing the right thing. Ever since he landed back in the Enchanted Forest, Fate, it seemed, had given him a helping hand. First he had literally run into Henry, then the loops in the forest that had brought him closer and closer to the Princess, and now he had the chance to skin his Crocodile as well as provide Emma with the escape she craved. Clearly, he was on the right path.
The catch in his chest with every breath he wrote off as anticipation.
"How much farther?" Emma asked, shifting in her saddle.
"Not far now," he said over his shoulder. He felt somewhat bad for her. He had not considered how awkward riding astride would be for her in a dress or that she might be out of practice. But even now, he could not help appreciating the expanse of ankle and shin she revealed with her hem rucked up like that. It was a shame that their acquaintance would be over soon.
They arrived in the little town Regina had chosen for their rendezvous just before midnight. The iron shoes on their horses' feet seemed loud on the dry, dusty dirt road while the inhabitants slept. Not even a dog barked as they rode to the main square. Killian would almost swear he heard the deep, even breathing of the townsfolk behind their wooden shutters. The call of an owl was the only other noise.
A prickling of unease raised the short hairs on the back of his neck. This was a small town full of sleeping peasants. And the woman whose moniker was the Evil Queen had chosen this to be her meeting spot. He swallowed past the nervous tightening in his throat and concentrated on the task at hand.
"Do you see her?" Emma whispered scanning the village.
"Not yet," Killian said, searching the shadows between houses for even a glint of metal that would give warning of an ambush. "I don't see anyone else, either."
"That's because you're not looking in the right place, dears," Regina's melodious purr announced from behind them.
Emma wheeled her horse around, causing the animal to rear and toss its head before Emma calmed it. Killian turned his mount around more slowly and kept a firm hand on the reins to keep it from reacting to the other horse's antics. Behind them, Regina stood in a long, flaring coat that cut open wide at her hips, revealing black leather trousers tucked into thigh-high black boots. The coat buttoned up tightly from her waist to her breasts, accentuating her slim lines and full feminine assets. A feathered riding hat perched atop her glossy dark hair, still able to cast a gleam even in the moonlight. She was an impressive sight, striking in her coiffed and groomed elegance, especially in comparison to the course, undyed homespun frock Emma wore, her blond hair hanging free down her back, kept out of her face only by a twist of fabric.
It was a study in contrasts, the darkness and the light. Killian could appreciate the drama the Evil Queen's costume afforded her, but his eyes strayed back to the silver glow illuminating Emma as she stared down the woman who had caused her so much grief.
"I'm surprised you showed up," Regina admitted. "Honestly, I was beginning to think you were too weak and frightened to face me."
"You were wrong," Emma said. "And for the record, I've never been afraid of you."
"Really? So you fled from me countless times because…?" she trailed off, arching one dark brow and her mouth pulled up in a smile.
Killian watched Emma's jaw clench and her nostrils flare as she fought to keep hold of her temper. To forestall this becoming a useless contest of egos, he dismounted, slowly so as not to startle the Queen into attacking in error. "Why she fled in the past is not the issue of this meeting. We're here to discuss the Princess's departure—unharmed—from the kingdom in return for full abdication."
He held his hand out to Emma and beckoned her down from her horse. If they were to have this meeting, they needed to all be on the same footing. Emma balked, transferring her glare to him briefly, before she pulled in a deep breath and threw her leg over the horse's neck and allowed Killian to help her down. He took the reins of both horses and found a post near one of the storefronts and tied them loosely to keep the mount from wandering away.
"If I decide to take your offer, where do you plan on sending me?" Emma demanded of Regina.
"Anywhere you like, as I told your pirate."
"He's not my pirate," Emma corrected, and Killian rolled his eyes. If she kept this up they would all regress to childhood taunting before they got anywhere.
"Fine, have it your way," Regina said, waving away Emma's comment. "You can go wherever you like—I'd suggest Wonderland. You'll have to look in on the Queen of Hearts and give her my best regards."
Trap, his instincts told him. Wherever Emma went, Wonderland was out of the question.
"I think I'll look elsewhere for my new home," Swan retorted. "In fact, I have a Realm all picked out, and the portal to get there is actually stuck in the attic of Castle Saint-George."
Regina pursed her lips as she thought about that. A portal to another Realm had been hiding under her nose for years. Clearly, she wasn't happy about it, but just as clearly, she could do nothing about it now. "So, you want to come back to your childhood home to go through an oversized doll house covered in spider webs and dust?" She curled her lip in mocking disgust. "Fine. We can leave now if you like," she said, raising her right hand encased in a black riding glove as if she would magic them away now.
"Not quite yet," Emma said. "There's still one big problem. I'm not leaving Henry."
"Oh, yes," Regina chuckled. "You are. I'm afraid that is the crux of the deal. Henry stays with me."
"He's my son, and I am not letting you take him again!" she shouted back, face flushing.
Killian heard movement inside one of the houses along the street. "Perhaps we should keep our voices down," he suggested. "Otherwise, we'll have an audience soon."
Emma locked her jaw, but Regina ignored him completely.
"Don't be ridiculous, Princess Swan," the Queen sneered. "You have nothing to offer Henry. I can provide him with a life that you never could—wealth, power, status. As my son, Henry will become a king." She strolled around them, as if they were not-terribly-interesting curiosities at a traveling show, her hand gracefully holding the wide flare of her coat away from her legs as she carefully placed every step. "You, on the other hand, will spend the rest of your life in exile. Is that any life to take Henry into? Would he be happy? What do you have to offer him? Just…you. For once, be sensible about Henry's welfare. Leave him here with me. I can give him so much more than you ever could."
Emma flinched, and Killian reached out to touch her elbow. She shifted her shoulders and fired back. "No, I can't offer him those things when I'm gone. But Henry doesn't seem to want your future for him. He's not the kind of child who particularly cares about wealth and power and status—and good for him. What I have to offer him is a mother's love and a life free from you. He already ran away from you once—that I know of. I think he'll jump at the chance to never see you again, don't you?"
The Queen's face flushed, and he could see the angry slash of red on her cheeks even in the dark as she stalked toward them. Killian reached out and grasped Emma's elbow as he would pull her back, but she refused to retreat again in the face of the Queen's fury.
"Henry is the only good thing in my life," Regina snarled, the roughness in her voice revealing genuine emotion, perhaps even a kind of love. "Do you think the title of Evil Queen is made with butterfly kisses and chocolate rainbows? I have earned my title. Everyone around me, I must keep at arm's length. They serve me out of fear. But Henry…Henry is the only one I can say is truly mine."
"Except he isn't yours," Emma fired back. "And he could never be yours if you keep him like a pet."
"What do you know about being a mother?" Regina spat.
"Nothing, because you took him from my arms just hours after he was born!" Emma shouted, her hands balled into fists as she got right into Regina's face.
More movement, and this time voices came from the houses around them. They were drawing attention, and if the good townsfolk decided to intervene in the Evil Queen's affairs, the night would go from uncomfortable to bloody.
"Ladies—" he tried to intervene only to be cut off by Regina's twisting her spiteful knife into Emma's heart further.
"Yes, I did." The Queen smiled. "And if you think I'll let him slip away now, you are a more of a wide-eyed fool than your mother ever was."
"You bitch," Emma snarled, hands clenched at her sides.
"I think you mean 'Queen,'" Regina corrected, shifting her shoulders in a move that was both regal and aggressive. "Now be a good girl, and see sense. Be a mother, and think of what is best for Henry. If you take my offer—and I highly suggest you do before I change my mind—you will be living in exile as an outcast. I have wealth, status, and power, and once Rumpelstiltskin is dead, I'll have the entire Realm at my feet. And Henry will be heir to all of it."
With a twist of her hand, she pulled a fire ball into being, casting flickering light onto her face and causing her eyes to become glittering, shadowed jewels. "Now, you can either get out of my kingdom and go live in some quaint little hovel by the side of a duck pond somewhere in the back-end of beyond," she said. "Or you can watch me burn this village to the ground."
The Queen launched the fireball straight at them. Killian grabbed Emma by the arm, pulling her close and hunching over her as they both crouched down. He felt the heat as the fireball flew over their heads. He turned to watch where it landed and saw it exploded on a wooden support beam of one of the cottages. Sparks flew up and landed in the thatched roof as the dry wood of the beam instantly began to burn.
Suddenly another wash of heat and light signaled the ignition of a home across the street.
Emma jerked away from him and shouted at the Queen, "Stop! They don't have anything to do with this!"
Of course they do, Killian wanted to say. This was the reason Regina had chosen this village for their parlay instead of some secluded spot in the woods. She needed hostages.
"You don't have enough magic to destroy a whole village on your own before I stop you," Emma pulled a knife from the top of her boot and rushed Regina.
"Not alone," Regina acknowledged, shrugging as she heated the hilt of the knife, causing Emma to drop it. "But I've discovered a secret about magic. You can get quite a boost by working with fairies."
Emma shook her head, baring her teeth as she cradled her burned hand. "The fairies would never work with you."
"Not willingly, no." Regina held up her hand, and with a slight twisting motion, she conjured an iron cage. Inside, a fairy wearing a multi-tiered yellow dress that sparked almost prettily in the light of the fires the Queen had set lay, incapacitated, on the bottom of the cage. The fairy saw them and tried to reach out through the bars, but the iron hands seemed to burn her and she pulled her hand back, exhausted and weeping. "You see, the trick is to catch them with cold iron. It keeps them nice and safe until you're ready to use them."
Killian and Emma watched, frozen in horror as Regina reached into the cage and took out the weakened fairy, grasping her tightly around the waist. "Then all you have to do…is squeeze."
Regina tightened her hand around the fairy's middle. The tiny, weakened pixie struggled for only a moment before she stiffened and collapsed into pure magic. It looked like a tiny ball of sparkling yellow light that began to drift and expand, the edges dissolving into a formless cloud. The Queen inhaled deeply, pulling the yellow cloud of magic inside her. Her eyes rolled back and a look of intoxicated ecstasy shone on her face from the stolen magic.
Emma recovered first, and once again tried to rush her. But Regina opened her eyes, now completely black with dancing yellow and gold sparks, and with a malicious smile, flicked her fingers and tossed Emma halfway across the village.
Killian watched to make sure Emma was not injured, and when he saw her roll onto her side and attempt to sit up, he turned back to Regina. His temper flared in response to the growing knot of cold fear in his belly.
"This was not part of our deal!" Killian shouted at the Queen.
"The deal was that you convince the Princess to leave this Realm, and get me back my son," Regina recited. "She isn't, and you haven't. You chose her and the consequences of that decision. The deal is off." She flung him away with as much ease as she had Emma. "You really should have sided with me, Captain."
He landed next to the Princess, his head bouncing on the dirt and gravel of the village main street, all the wind knocked out of him, even as Emma was trying to pull herself to her feet. He lay still for a moment, stunned. There was a ringing in his ears, and his eyes refused to focus for a few seconds. Emma, finally on her feet, ran for the village well and started to pull up the bucket when Regina tossed another fireball at the hut covering the well, and the hemp rope all but disintegrated into ash in Emma's hands.
"You had your chance to keep things civil, dear," Regina taunted. "Now we do this my way." She pulled another fireball and cupped it in her hands.
Killian called Emma's name and she ducked as Regina's missile flew through the space where her head had been.
"I am not going to let you win, Regina!" Emma swore, her face contorted in a fierce grimace.
"Parroting your dead mother, are you?" the Queen taunted. "You want to be a princess, Emma? After all this time? Then save your precious little peasants, and let me send you to whatever realm will take you reeking of failure."
The whoosh of another fireball flying through the air over his head and the crackle of its detonation punctuated the Queen's taunt. The town was ablaze, and the villagers were now pouring out of their homes to escape the fire. The adults began to beat at the flames with blankets and old clothing while the elderly and the children headed for the edge of town at a sprint.
"You're just like Snow White!" Regina ridiculed. "First you run away from your problems, expecting them to just disappear. Then you come back and you're surprised that being a ruler means making hard choices. Well here's your chance!" She tossed another fireball at the building Killian still lay at the foot of, and he rolled into a ball, covering his head with his arms while sparks rained down as the fire caught. "Make the hard choice, Emma. You abdicate and leave, or this village, and all the poor people within it, will go up in flames. As will every town, village, and hamlet that has ever sheltered you. I will wage war on any kingdom that aides you. I will scour the Enchanted Forest of every ally and friend you have ever made."
Every statement, every threat was punctuated with another fireball. Now she wasn't just aiming at the buildings, but at the villagers themselves. More and more people left their houses, screaming, crying, shouting for help, only to discover that there was none. Killian struggled to his feet, his equilibrium not quite returned from his being thrown, and he looked around in growing alarm. The fire had spread to every building, every home. And he knew that this was his doing as much as the Queen's. His fault. He was responsible.
"My mother was the daughter of a miller, did you know that?" the Queen asked, conversationally, moving closer to Emma, a careless bounce to her step. He turned to look at her, wondering what the Queen was up to now. "Mother was the one who told me how combustible flour is. And look!" she gloated, pointing down the street. "This little town has a bakery." She generated another fireball and held it close to her face, the light cutting sharply across her cheekbones.
"Stop!" Emma shouted, holding her hands out as if that alone could stop the missile.
"No," the Queen said. Then she lobbed the fireball at the bakery.
Killian watched it sail through the air almost as if time had slowed and every second stretched into days, years, all the time in the world. Plenty of time to see the toddler crouching in fear under the bakery's awning, her hands covering her eyes, and her bare, dusty toes curled up as she tried to hug herself into a ball. He wasn't going to make it. He knew that. But his feet were under him and he was running, wishing somehow that he could be fast enough to get to the child before the fire did.
And suddenly, an arrow flew past in a blur, and a bundle of rags attached to the shaft just behind the point caught the fire that was meant for the bakery and redirected it into a building already ablaze. Killian skidded to a stop and looked up, following the trajectory the arrow had taken, back up to the ridge where he had stopped the night before. He could just make out the dark shadow of an archer, the moonlight on his back and hiding his face. Before he could tell who it was, the archer ran from his post as the sound of reinforcements joining the fight rose behind him.
Half of him wanted to turn around and rejoin Emma in her opposition to the Queen, but the little girl was still sitting on the stoop of the bakery, cowering in terror. She may have been safe from the Queen's fireball, but she was still in a precarious position out here in the open. Help the girl or help Emma?
Damn it.
He turned his head and found Swan already looking at him. She pointed to the girl and shouted, "Get her!"
He went. It only took him seconds to get to the bakery, and barely stopping, he snatched the little girl up, mindful of his hook. The girl was crying and stiff as a bloody plank in her terror, and he had to carry her like a sack of potatoes, but there was no help for it since she wouldn't uncurl enough for him to hold her properly. He turned and ran down the path, toward the forest in the direction the other villagers had gone.
One of the old women of the village saw him coming and rushed to meet him. He handed the child off with a quick order to keep her safe—and he had a moment of clarity to wonder just who the hell he thought he was giving this grandmother orders regarding a child she knew better he certainly did. But the woman just snatched up the little girl and headed over to the cluster of children already huddled under the trees. Child safe, Killian turned and ran back to the village.
The violent yellow-white light provided by the inferno illuminated his path back to the village. The sound of shouts and screaming echoed in the hills, and then the rumble and hiss of a building collapsing overrode all human noise. The fire had spread too far, too fast. They had to stop the Queen from killing any more people than she already had. A burned village could be rebuilt in time. Lost loved ones were gone forever.
He arrived in time to see the dwarves and the Merry Men helping the villagers combat the fire. Across town, he spied a few brave souls attempting to attack the Queen directly. But she was still powered by the death of the yellow fairy, and she easily flung a half-dozen attackers from her. Two of the dwarves and one of the men crashed through the wall of a burning building, and several of their compatriots left off the battle against flame and tyrant to rescue them. Emma—tenacious, stubborn lass that she was—had rearmed herself and was trying to slash at the Queen, who toyed with her like a tabby with a particularly entertaining mouse.
He thought they were lucky that the Queen had come alone, without her Black Knights. The Queen herself was too distracted by tauntin Emma and the village's wanton destruction to pay much attention to the inhabitants of the buildings she burned, allowing most of the villagers to evacuate. Small mercies, but he was grateful.
David joined his daughter in the fight against Regina, but the Queen just laughed, her elegant, sophisticated mask dropping to reveal a feral, snarling creature, her teeth bared. Killian pulled his sword, finally ready to engage now that most of the civilians were out of harm's way, and ran to join Emma. Guilt burned in his chest and forced the blood in his veins to run as hot as the fire burning around him as he ran to join her.
But once again, he was too slow. Something in the immolated house to his right cracked, clearly audible over the roar of the flames, and then the entire structure screamed and groaned as it fell in brilliant red and gold immolation. Killian ducked and held his arm up to protect his eyes and face from falling debris. When he dared to look up again, he saw the Queen fling her arm out, sending a wave of magic at Emma. Swan ducked behind an abandoned cart, but Regina tossed a fireball at the vehicle, almost causing it to explode in flames before Emma could get away. David hesitated for a fraction of a second, his eyes flicking to Emma in indecision, but for that instant, he was unguarded, and Killian was too far away.
Regina flicked her wrist and Emma's fallen knife flew into her hand. "You're slowing down, Charming," she taunted him, waving the knife carelessly.
Trap, Killian thought, his mind racing like a ship before a hurricane wind, urging his feet to go faster. Don't fall for it, mate—it's a feint!
David reacted, playing right into her hands. He darted forward using a quick cut aimed at the Queen's open flank, but she transformed the knife into a sword in the blink of an eye and a swirl of dark magic, blocking David's blade. In the same instant, she stepped close to him, her feral grin widening.
"Much too slow," the Queen purred.
Killian ran three steps, knowing he would not make it in time. Regina forced David's sword away and reached her free arm back, fingers curled into claws aimed at the center of the shepherd king's chest.
"No!" Emma shouted.
She was closer. She reached them first. But she didn't attack Regina. She pushed her father out of the way so that she stood in front of the Queen, defenseless, her long hair swinging with the inertia of her sudden stop.
And Regina's hand—already amidst its strike—flashed down and plunged inside of Emma.
Killian skidded to a stop on the gravel road, his ears ringing, and the bitter, metallic lump of his own heart in his throat. He felt like he was frozen in ice, unable to move, unable to breathe. All he could see was the Queen's hand buried wrist-deep in Emma's chest, Swan's eyes wide and shocked as her lips parted in pain.
Regina's eyes widened in surprise before she barked a harsh laugh. "Oh, you stupid girl," she mocked. "Didn't your mother tell you? Love is weakness," she snarled as she leaned away and jerked her arm back to remove the Princess' heart.
But it wouldn't come. Emma lurched forward with the tug on her heart, but the organ—and the Queen's hand—remained firmly in her chest. Killian felt his eyes widen, and he almost dared to breathe. A small part of his brain not immobilized with horror noted that the scene was almost comical. Regina's brows furrowed in confusion, and she tilted her head to one side, lips pursing in consternation. She tugged again, and again Emma swayed forward as her heart refused to budge. After the third failed attempt, she muttered viciously, "What…?"
The Queen stopped tugging and looked up to Emma's face, staring at the Princess in bafflement while the light of realization spread across Emma's face like a rising sun.
"No," Swan whispered, straightening her spine and staring back at the Queen. "It's strength."
A blinding pulse of white light flashed out from Emma's chest, rippling out in concentric circles, forcing the Queen to release Emma's heart, throwing her back and away. Killian felt the light pass through him, bright as the dawn, warm as a hug, and as sweet as a first kiss. If light could have a scent, it would have smelled like the daisies that his mother had planted around their house in the slums when he was a child underlain with the scent of fresh bread. If light could have a sound, it would be of tiny bells and happy laughter. If it had a taste, it would be of cinnamon and sweet, doughy pastry. It was gone as soon as it had come, and he felt empty without it. He craved that light more than rum, more than revenge, more than anything the instant it passed.
The Queen slumped against the shattered wagon, the victim of Emma's magic—for magic it had been—and she stared dazedly up at Emma. While the rest of them were too stunned to move, Grumpy chose not to waste the opportunity. He ran at the Queen, his pick-ax raised above his head. Unfortunately, Regina saw him coming, and with a sneer, she raised her hands in a quick gesture and disappeared in a puff of purple-black magic that blended in with the natural smoke filling the village. Somehow, the ripple of light that had come from Emma had doused a great deal of the fire, and only a few structures still smoldered.
Killian scanned the street to see if she would reappear and found the others doing the same. Everyone gripped their weapons or stood ridged with fear and anticipation for several long seconds before they all relaxed. Apparently the Queen had decided to retire from the field today.
He turned to watch David step in front of Emma, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders. Killian could see that while the rest of them had relaxed and returned to the business of trying to mitigate the fire damage the Queen had caused, Swan was still stiff and breathing heavily, her face locked in a mask of confusion.
"Sweetheart?" David said softly. "Are you alright?"
"I…I think so," Emma stammered. She looked up at her father, eyes wide and glittering in the light of a dozen smoldering house fires. "What the hell was that?"
"That…is something we'll have to discuss later," David decided. "For now, I'm just glad you're alive." He pulled her close, and Emma rested her head on his shoulder. David lifted one of his hands to cradle the back of his daughter's head. "Let's help these people, and then I want to have a long talk with you about running off like that."
Killian watched them as he walked over, his heart finally starting to beat a steady rhythm again. Emma sucked in a deep breath, her eyes closed. She nodded into her father's shoulder and gripping the back of his tunic tight. When she opened her eyes, she looked right at Killian, and his breath caught. Fire and destruction and terror all around her, and she never wavered. One act of involuntary magic—light magic, the kind that Henry had insisted was helping them, the kind that Killian had doubted even existed—and she was shaken and afraid. He had never been more astonished by anyone. He wanted to say something, to reassure her that it was all right, that he only thought better of her knowing she had this power that was so unlike any magic he had come across before. He even opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
Then, as if she saw something of what he wanted to say in his face, she averted her eyes, her brows pinching. With one last squeeze of her father's shoulders, she let him go and stepped back. When David looked at her in question, she nodded once, smiling slightly. She was fine.
David nodded and then the shouts of the Merry Men and the dwarves still combatting the last of the fire that Emma's magic had not extinguished pulled their attention. David sighed. "At least most of the fire is out."
He stepped away from Emma, but she reached out and grabbed his sleeve.
"Father?" Emma said, her voice small, but her stubborn chin set. "You were right. Regina needs to be stopped. Henry needs a home that is safe and full of love, and the people need a ruler who will protect them and support them like Mother did. And…" She stopped, bowing her head, and licked her lips. "And since there isn't anyone else to do it, I guess that means it has to be me."
Emma lifted her face again, and the moonlight shone down its pure white light on her. The steady, determined glint in her eye making his heart speed again, only this time it was in anticipation.
"I'm ready to fight," she said. "I'm not running anymore."
Killian felt his heart swell, and this time he knew it for what it was. It was hope. He was so proud of her. Emma was ready to stop running, and if she could find the courage and self-confidence to take on a burden she feared so, then surely he could put aside his selfish desires for the time being and help her.
He would, he decided. He would see this quest through to the end. He would help Emma reclaim her kingdom and find a way to remove the curse from her. The Crocodile could wait.
A/N: So, this was a short one, but action-packed! I hope you enjoyed. This is by no means the last we will see of Regina, and if anyone from this point out has any questions or concerns about the Queen's actions, I will refer you to the note at the beginning of this chapter. Thank you.
And as for Killian being somewhat ineffectual during the battle, well, allow me to refer you back to the source material. That man gets KO'd so much! It can't be good for him.
