AN: Wow guy's, thank you so much! I've never had such quick reviews, follows and favourites. It means so much more then I can put into words – which is pretty ironic for a writer, right? Anyway, here is part two, the last of the set up chapters so it's a little dark and quite short, but hang on guys, it's about to get tense - the sexual kind of tension of course ;-) I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think, and I promise to update as soon as possible. Hopefully before the end of the weekend.
The manor is empty when I return. The sound of silence, louder than it's ever been before. When Henry was younger, I used to crave the rare quiet moments. They brought me contentment, a sense that all was right with the world. But this silence is different, final, an unforgiving reminder that no matter how hard I try I will ultimately find myself alone.
I kick off my heels and shrug out of my jacket, dumping them both in the hall before padding through to my study. This house is large, too large, a testament to the castles I grew used to during my reign. When I left the Enchanted Forest I honestly thought I'd be happy here, that my pain would remain trapped in a world that never welcomed me, but I was wrong. The Dark Castle was never my prison, the darkness inside of me is.
I reach for the decanter of cider my fingers hovering over the glass, but the smell of apples triggers nightmares of an unhappy, forced marriage and the haunting memory of my time as the Evil Queen. My stomach churning, I pick up the Scotch instead.
I don't hate Emma. I don't even hate Hook. I just wish with a deep, aching longing, that for once their happiness could be mine.
I down the large drink and quickly pour myself another, walking over to the bookshelf and pulling out a book that I haven't touched for years; Snow White by The Brothers Grimm.
I laughed when I first read the tale, almost wishing I'd been creative enough to order Graham to retrieve Snow's lungs and liver as the book suggests. I found it amusing that the brothers thought the Charming's intelligent enough to enchant a pair of dancing shoes that would ultimately kill me. But now, as I look down at the old, leather-bound book, I only feel sadness in the knowledge that this is how the world will remember me. Either that or as an old, haggard witch offering a pathetically weak Snow White, a poisoned apple.
Mulan would probably call it Karma, and she'd probably have a point. I'm more than aware of the heinous deeds of my past, and I know that it would take a lot of good to right my wrongs, but even the Beast found his Beauty.
My gaze subconsciously drifts to the bow now mounted on the wall above my desk. Robin is an English legend, Snow the world's best loved Disney Princess, even Rumple has been immortalised in one of the greatest fairy-tales of all time. Why am I the one left behind?
Tossing the offensive book to one side, I stand and walk over to my dead love's favourite weapon. With shaking hands, I reach out to run my fingers along the smooth wood and closing my eyes, can almost imagine that Robin is here with me. I can still taste his last kiss as he told me I was his future. Why is that sentiment the one that condemns my lovers to death? Why is my love a curse?
The floor beneath begins to shake again, a sure sign that whatever the Charming's went to fight has not been defeated, and instinctively I turn to the largest mirror in the room.
I shouldn't care, the dark remnants of an Evil Queen tell me as much, but I do. These people helped me, they saved me, and though I have no desire to join them on their heroic quest I can't turn my back so easily.
With a wave of my hand my image disappears, replaced with a vision of the forest on the outskirts of Storybrooke. Emma, Henry, Snow, Charming, Hook, Merida and Zelena stand on the precipice of a large crack that has opened in the forest floor. It's a crevice that appears to be getting wider and longer, carving a curved path through the trees.
"Is this what's causing the shaking?" Henry asks curiously, leaning over to peer into the large fissure.
Grabbing his shoulder, Emma pulls him back from the edge, "Or what the shaking has caused!" She replies indifferently.
"Well whatever it is, if it keeps getting bigger it could tear Storybrooke in two," Snow warns, scanning its length from the bridge to the town.
Zelena steps forward, her hands hovering over the most recent part of the tear. "I can't detect any of the powerful magic that Hades used so I don't think it has anything to do with the Olympian crystal…" She pauses, glancing cautiously around the small group, "But it does stem from dark magic."
"What if this is the price of destroying Hades?" Hook ponders grimly, "This could all be my fault, Swan."
The blonde reaches out, lovingly stroking Killian's cheek. "This isn't your fault," She gently reassures, "You saved us all!"
Behind her Zelena loudly clears her throat, and Emma offers a weak half smile in return, "You both did," She quickly adds, finally acknowledging the Ozians role in Hades' downfall.
"Well this has to mean something," Merida interrupts, sweeping her hand over the grass next to the crevice. When she shows her hand to the group, her palm is covered in a glittery purple dust.
"What is that?" Charming asks, rubbing a bit between his thumb and forefinger.
"It looks…." Henry begins to offer an explanation but quickly changes his mind, shaking his head as if to brush aside the idea.
"It looks like what?" Emma presses, her tone a motherly scold that refuses to be ignored.
The teenager winces, the sort of pained expression that someone pulls when they're about to betray a secret, "It looks the same colour as Mom's magic!"
"Do you think Regina would do this?" Snow gasps.
Emma looks as reluctant to reply as Henry but does so anyway, "She was pretty upset…"
"Upset!?" Hook scoffs, "Love, I've seen that look on the Queen before and it never ended well for anyone she directed it at."
"She's not the Queen, anymore!" Henry shouts angrily, jumping to the defence of the woman who has only ever been a loving mother to him.
"I want to agree with Henry…." Snow states, her voice drifting off uncertainly.
"But?" Merida prompts.
"But Storybrooke wouldn't even exist if she hadn't watched her first love die!"
"Vengeance is what she does," Hook adds.
"And you coming back to me had to have hurt her," Emma deduces.
Ever the voice of reason, Charming steps forward, "Hold on," he argues, "Are we really saying what I think we are? Are we really going to accuse Regina of trying to destroy the town? Because…once we do there is no going back, she may turn dark for good."
Emma shrugs sadly, "Who else could it be?"
Who else could it be? The words ring hollow in the empty room, a killing blow that strikes down whatever remains of my hope. First I lose Robin, and now my family suspect me of returning to my old ways. Once a villain, always a villain, I guess truer words have never been spoken!
The accusation tugs at my battered heart, squeezing it tighter and tighter until my entire chest aches. It was Henry's idea, Snow's confirmation…Emma's doubt...the only people I love, the only people I have left in the world conspiring against me. Now I really do have nothing, I might as well be pacing the halls of my cold, lonely castle.
The floor begins to tremble again, the rumble strengthening with my pain, and I glance back to mirror just in time to see the crevice widen by several feet. Luckily, no one is injured.
My concern for the heroes eases the hurt I feel towards them, and slowly the rumble fades and stops. It can't be coincidence that both things occurred at the exact same time. And that dust is the same colour as my magic.
What if Henry is right? What if my pain is inadvertently causing this? What if my insatiable thirst for vengeance is back?
Terrified, I reach into my chest, ignoring the searing pain as I remove my own heart to examine it. To my abject horror, a deep black rip the exact shape of the crevice in the forest, is carved into the left hand side of it. It's oozing a black substance, a mist that seeps from the crack like smoke from a chimney. My heart is physically and mentally broken, and the darkness inside of it will slowly poison my mind.
My gaze drifts back to the book still resting on the chair, its contents mocking me like a macabre self-fulfilling prophecy. The Grimm Brothers were right. Disney was right. Henry and Emma were right.
My darkness is returning. The Evil Queen is returning, and when she arrives she will rip this town and everyone in it, limb from limb.
And there is nothing I can do about.
