*peers from between fingers* Hi, I'm back! Can we not talk about the ridiculously long time since the last update? Thank you so much for the messages, for your patience and interest - it's always wonderful to receive love from readers, especially despite such a humongous hiatus. Yes, I am finishing this story. In fact, here comes the action-packed penultimate chapter, to be followed by the grand (hopefully?) finale in two weeks – exactly two years from when the first chapter was published. Enjoy! :)

It was just the two of them again.

Last time they'd seen Snow and David, the pair of them were ambling towards the castle walls to meet Snow's contact on the other side of the inconspicuous little door. Once they were out of sight, Regina took the lead, marching purposefully to the secret tunnel entrance with Robin in tow. Her lips twitched and, knowing he wouldn't see, she allowed herself a small chuckle - a little bitter perhaps, but a chuckle nonetheless. They'd made this journey once before, to rescue Roland from Zelena's clutches.

The rock was still there, unmoved and overgrown with moss. Robin raised the torch higher and surveyed the circle of surrounding forest. Regina flexed her fingers. Just because the rock was there didn't mean the tunnel would be as well, which only added to the nervous knot twisting in her stomach. The boulder shook as it rose from the ground, and very nearly toppled over.

Get a grip.

They couldn't afford faulty magic now. Regina planted her feet more firmly, breathed more deeply, scrunched up her face in concentration. Her emotions needed to be reined in, so her magic would flow steady and reliable. With her eyes closed, she strove to block out doubts over which brand of magic it was she was producing now, dark or light.

The tunnel was as dark and damp as she remembered it, and the traps much the same. Even the shifting shadows the torch was throwing reminded her of that other time she and Robin had passed through here. Soon the door to the crypt was looming before them, sturdy and, unsurprisingly, locked. Could Zelena have been foolish enough to have used the same magical protection Regina had, so sure that Regina was out of the picture forever? A single attempt, and the door yielded—Zelena had indeed relied on blood magic. Oh, the irony.

Robin moved to slip past her and take the lead now that they were in. Regina's stomach clenched as he brushed her arm. She barred his way.

"You've done enough," she blurted. "You don't need to do this. Your end of the bargain is fulfilled, you owe Rumplestiltskin nothing anymore." Nor me.

"That might be, but this isn't over. You're going in there to face this witch and I won't have you do it alone. Unless-" he sighed, "unless you don't trust a thief with your heart anymore. Which I would understand." Despite his words, he looked positively crestfallen.

"I-"

A mighty rattle echoed through the halls, muffled enough to know the source was several floors above them yet still loud enough to make them jump. Dozens of blades must have hit the marble floor of the audience chamber, shields and spears would have tumbled from the walls they'd been mounted on. Regina grinned. One last act of clumsiness—hopefully the last—and Charming had his sword back now. At this very moment, if Regina were to guess, Snow would be telling him about the other part of their task, the one they'd decided to keep from David until his courage was reclaimed. Retrieving Rumplestiltskin's brain should be, well, a no-brainer for them now.

But it would alert Zelena, which meant they needed to hurry. Reluctantly, Regina turned to Robin again.

"I do trust you. I just don't want you to come to any harm on account of m- this."

"The sentiment's mutual. I'm going in."

"In that case, you'll need to find the vault alone. Get the heart, and get to safety."

"And you?"

"I'll keep Zelena busy to let the three of you get away." She was unrelenting about this. If the plan didn't work, perhaps they at least would be able to escape Zelena's wrath. Robin was about to speak though, and there really was no time for this. "Don't argue."

He eyed her for a while, sighed, then nodded.

"I've got your heart."

"Please be careful." Her hand came up to his shoulder with the lightest of touches, lingering only a second before she snatched it away quickly lest she forget herself. It was best not to take liberties with touches.

But before she knew it, Robin reached for the hand guilty of this small trespass. Her fingers burnt as if they'd been licked by fire the moment he clasped them in his. Her heart picked up pace, hammering so hard she was certain they'd hear it any time soon, beating against whatever Zelena was keeping it in, leading them to it. Before her feverish thoughts had time to settle, Robin raised her hand to his lips. Their eyes locked just as he pressed a kiss to it, so light she could barely feel it but searing hot on her skin all the same.

"As milady commands," he said, and there it was: that mischievous glint in his eyes and the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. This was the Robin she knew, right there the entire time, waiting to come to the surface. Finally, her Robin!

No. No no no no no. Not hers. Not here.

He was still watching her, his eyes boring into hers with unrelenting focus, searching, searching…while her hand lay forgotten in his. A flash of awareness, and her heart leapt. Then it went out again, leaving only the scrutiny, the ceaseless searching. Her stomach dropped.

She needed to put an end to this. Now. No matter how much she longed to see if there was still a grain of feeling for her left in him despite the magic of the time warp, it wasn't for her to know. She'd seen the sparkle in his eyes, some sort of doubtful recognition, a curiosity, a connection he didn't understand. Whether it meant something or not, it was best left unexplored. He had his love, and discovering even the shred, the slightest stirring of feeling for another, would bring nothing but torture to him. Regina had no intention of tainting this fragile friendship they'd developed by allowing a forbidden element into it. It was enough that she'd had to fight her own feelings every minute of every day. For him, it would remain innocent and pure. Friendship, no more. And if they failed, if she failed, he'd continue his life without a stain on his conscience or the love he bore his wife.

So she slipped away, her fingers brushing against his as they freed themselves effortlessly.

Not that her wretched heart wasn't cracking open somewhere.

"Good luck," he called after her as they hurried off in opposite directions.

Not every trap had remained where Robin remembered it, but a number of new ones had been set up instead, each nastier than the first, more intricate, with the promise of a more gruesome death. He was making headway though, albeit slowly. Too slowly.

Robin paid attention to every sound, smell, and sight. His senses were on high alert not only for the next obstacle, but also for any sign of how the others were getting on. A little reassurance would be nice, but there'd been nothing since that ominous clatter of arms. He wasn't too worried about Snow White and her shepherd, to tell the truth. No, it was Regina he yearned to hear from. They were supposed to brave the castle's many traps together, not separately, not with her putting herself in danger so soon and all by herself. But the best thing he could do was find her heart as fast as possible. Then he'd find a safe place for it.

And then he'd come back.

This overwhelming urge to stand alongside her was somewhat baffling. His honour demanded it, yes. And it was in everyone's interest to strip Zelena of her powers, no doubt. Yet Robin couldn't deny his involvement had become personal at some point. Friends were scarce in his life, all lost to death, but now he seemed to have gained one.

The air in front of him shimmered curiously. Robin stopped at once. On second look, the hall looked perfectly ordinary, but he trusted his senses enough to be sure he'd been right the first time. Something was lurking, some kind of magic. A strange scent filled his nostrils. If whatever this was was in the air itself, there was no way for Robin to bypass it, so he made a step forward. A tendril of smoke curled from beneath his feet and rose to the ceiling, joined by another one, and one more cloud, until columns of acrid blackness were swirling all around him. Robin clapped his hands over his ears as shrill cries tore through the air. He could see nothing now but smelled burning flesh, his throat full of smoke. He dropped to his knees and crawled on, coughing and sputtering while he felt his way forward.

It ended abruptly, like a snuffed candle. The air was clear, the corridor silent now even though his ears still rang with the wailing of people burning alive. Was this Zelena's warning to anyone trespassing? Or perhaps a reminder for Robin specifically?

If this mission succeeded, there would be no way for Zelena to take revenge. If it failed…well, they were all doomed anyway.

Robin moved on, a little shaky, a little choked up still, wondering if the others also had such horrors to face. Snow and David would be fine, there were two of them to keep each other grounded. Regina, though…

She seemed to have a soft spot for all of them—even for Zelena, curiously.

Regina, who'd have kept Robin out of this eventually. Whose fingers had trembled upon touch and whose voice had shaken a little as she'd bidden him to be careful.

Robin rounded a corner and was immediately swallowed by darkness. Except for a shimmery substance, bluish and eerie, much like the one around that knife frozen in mid-air. As he got closer, a form began to take shape in the faint glow: a rearing horse. No, not a horse—a unicorn. Black and motionless, with a gaping hole where the heart should be. Robin turned away and squeezed past the morbid spectacle. Another corner, and the light returned. Robin wiped the sweat off his brow. Zelena certainly had a wicked sense of humour.

Hadn't Regina said just that on one occasion?

Robin chuckled. The corridor rang with the unnaturally magnified sound. Everything had become sharper, actually. Pieces of the dream surfaced in his mind unprompted. Red-gloved hands placing a heart into a satchel…

Wait, no,that had never been part of his dreams. The satchel had always just been there. Red-gloved hands?

Robin was getting closer. He outsmarted a few classic traps and withstood several magical attacks. They all seemed to aim at unsettling him emotionally rather than physically harm—that was what the booby traps were there for. Thankfully, he knew their kind rather well. Still, he earned himself a thigh wound running into a sneaky spike and a sore shoulder where a boulder had hit from a murder hole. Robin felt more strained with every passed obstacle. His mind reeled with images of hearts and shimmery lights and billowing hair and fireballs, whispered words and ghosts of touches he had no memory of. With every inch he gained, he seemed to lose a bit of balance.

Then, at last, he reached the vault. The lock was one of the most complex he'd ever encountered. Sweat trickled down his face as he worked it, wary of the sickly sweet smell wafting from behind the solid wood. His head was growing heavier with each breath, so he tried to make them as scarce and as shallow as he dared. Still, by the time he picked the lock, his head had grown heavy and his judgement impaired. Images still flickered on and off in his mind, all in slow motion now.

By the time he stepped through the threshold, his heart felt raw and vulnerable, utterly exposed.

Nothing attacked him.

Still hazy, he set out along the walls, tracing the many boxes lined up on rows upon rows of shelves—a most unwise thing to do, as he'd surely realise if he weren't so very dopey. The layout had changed from the one he'd seen years before, that much he still recalled. What was he even doing here? Hadn't he learnt his lesson? Did he not realise the kind of disaster he was bringing down on the heads of innocent peasants with his reckless actions? Robin turned and staggered back to the door.

Until we meet again.

He was quite sure she'd never said such a thing to him, but it had most certainly been Regina's voice that shook him from his muddleheaded state now. That was why he was here. Her heart. He needed to retrieve her heart. It would be red with a streak of black here and there, and through that touch of darkness, it would shine beautifully. There was nothing rational about it, but he just knew. As if he'd seen her heart before. As if he'd held it before. Retrieved it before.

Robin paced the room, searching for a clue. He'd half-expected for the heart to be mounted on a pedestal in the very centre of the vault, which of course had been stupid. It'd be concealed, hidden from sight, and all the better protected for that. In one of these boxes, perhaps. But there was no time to pull them out one by one and look, and even then how would he know it from some other person's heart?

His own heart was thumping insistently, drumming in his ears. Dozens of others joined in, whispers rather than the wild racing of his own, but disturbing all the same. How would he hear hers in all this racket?

You can't steal something that's been given to you.

Robin blinked and moved with more intent, across the room to the opposite shelf. This was the right one, he just knew it.

But there were still rows and rows of boxes to choose from, and strain his ears as he might, Regina's voice spoke to him no more. Resigned, he reached for a random box at eye-level. The moment he grabbed the knob, a sense of foreboding came upon him. Since he had no better leads, he removed the box from its place anyway. Holding it at arm's length, he raised the lid.

Nothing happened. No beast pounced at him, no curse devoured him, no witch appeared out of thin air, alerted by his ministrations. Robin peered into the box. It was empty but for a curious crack in the bottom.

The crack moved. Squinted back at him, actually, and before his brain caught up with what he was seeing, an eye was staring back at him, wide and unblinking.

What sorcery is this?

Robin braced himself for an attack - of what kind, he didn't know, but surely this was no harmless toy. The eye remained the same, however, never a blink, just trained at Robin's face.

That was it, wasn't it? He couldn't look away, couldn't break eye contact. Robin bid his eyelids to close, strained the muscles in his neck to turn away not because he expected for it to work but to confirm his suspicion.

"What do you want from me?"

The accursed thing kept staring back with its hypnotic gaze, and Robin's insides shifted. He was losing both time and footing.

This was one of the reasons they were supposed to tackle the vault together, Regina and him. Robin had no magic to counter the forces at play here. But she'd helped him before, from wherever she was now, even though it was beyond Robin's comprehension. Perhaps her presence would make itself known again.

"Regina?" Robin waited. For what? For her voice again, to speak something less cryptic this time, more practical. A set of directions, ideally.

Nothing.

But the eye, clear to the point of practically colourless until then, began to take on a sickly sheen. Golden? No; green. It seeped into the iris, the eye drinking it in hungrily like emerald ink spilled onto blotting-paper. But it didn't stop there. Soon the iris seemed to be overflowing, colour creeping into the pupil as well, violent green pushing out black, rushing in and drowning out everything but itself.

Robin was momentarily blinded by the transformed object. His eye twitched, pinched, burnt.

Then images swooped downon him, rained from every side, tumbled down and nailed him to the ground.

Some of them seemed random and disconnected: images of riches and luxury, powerful magic and - very disturbingly - the Dark One. And then, Regina. But not quite the Regina he'd come to know. A much younger Regina, combing her hair and conjuring a flame in her palm; Regina with shorter hair and peculiar garb, surrounded by people who looked oddly familiar and yet completely unknown to him, but all she seemed to care about was the boy in her embrace. Everything surreal, everything tinted green as though viewed through a piece of stained glass, a coloured lens. The images settled into Zelena's face, greener than everything else and nothing like the statuesque profile on the royal coins but instead screwed up in fury or hatred or anger, or a vitriolic mixture of all.

Other images he recognised as his own: glimpses of Marian and angry flashes of Nottingham and even, oddly, memories of a poor but content peasant family he'd been supplying with food. A family not torn asunder by Green Knights or deadly illness. How lucky they were!

Robin's insides twisted as the emotion burnt through him, branded him, and if he looked into a mirror now perhaps his own eyes would be green because that was how this worked, didn't it, that was what this monster was: envy.

The box seemed glued to his hands somehow, he couldn't fling it aside no matter how hard he tried. Desperate now to quench the storm within, he launched himself forward, sent his body crashing, arms first, into the shelves ahead.

The beams collapsed and came crashing down all around him in a wild cacophony of sound, raining splinters and worse. Robin's hands, free of the pestilential box at last, shot up to cover his head.

Once the world around him stilled again, it was no longer bathed in green or tarnished with envy. But no matter how rapidly he blinked, he couldn't rid himself of the now steady influx of images: Regina so transformed he hardly recognised her, all shrouded in darkness, cold and sharp-tongued and desperately unhappy; Regina hopeful and brighter and so much closer, so close he could almost card his fingers through the shoulder-length tresses of hair. And no sooner had Robin finished the thought than his image did just that. Except…he hadn't. Ever.

He pressed the balls of his palms into his eyes.

At long last, it stopped.

Bruised and battered, with a splinter lodged in his thigh wound turning every step into torture, Robin rose and surveyed the wreckage. Despite the severe damage, most boxes remained sealed shut. They'd still need to be searched one by one if Robin were to find the heart without clues. But he felt anyything but clueless now.

Something was different, something had clicked - he was close. Perhaps that's what those last images had been trying to tell him. He found himself gripping his forearm with his left hand—hardly the strangest thing lately—and then he was clearing a path in the rubble, setting boxes aside, until he reached the one.

It was a box like every other, looked just the same, was covered in just as much dust and debris. Robin pried it open with utmost care—not out of trepidation this time at some lurking danger but because its contents were so valuable.

And there it was, glowing strong, red with a touch of black here and there, dark streaks that only made the brightness all the more brilliant.

His fingers twitched and prickled, wound around the living, beating heart, and lifted it gingerly from the box. It was warm, so warm, and seemed to stutter in his hold before it settled into a steady rhythm again, though a frantic one at that. Warmth clang to his fingers and spread further, bloomed in his chest, and his heart thrashed against his ribcage as if it, too, desired to join hers.

Nothing made sense in his head still, but it didn't matter anymore. The closer he'd come, the more her heart had seemed to speak to him, and now that it was lying in his palm…

He knew her.

The longer he held it, the truer it felt, the more right.

Now would be the time to tuck it safely under his arm and go, make his way out of the castle as instructed, let Regina fight the final battle.

That, however, was no longer an option.

A creaking stair - that was all Regina had had to brave so far. The further she went, the more concerned she grew. This lack of resistance on Zelena's part didn't bode well at all. Regina sensed a trap, anticipated it every step of the way, and the longer it would be coming, the more on edge she would be, so she simply wished the fight on herself already. Her nerves would go then, her frustration would be unleashed, channelled through magic. Hopefully.

She was right between the Charmings in the upper floor audience chamber and Robin down in the underground vault now. If she'd hoped to hear from them, catch the faintest sign of activity on either side, she'd be disappointed, for no such indication ever reached her. Perhaps that was all for the best. If they managed to accomplish the tasks by stealth, their escape route would be clear and Regina might even retain the advantage of the element of surprise. With luck, there would be no casualties.

Fool. Yes, it was a bold expectation. Yes, it was naive. Perhaps useless, even. This universe was either to be undone shortly, or would remain forever, in which case it would see horrors of such scale that a few dead guards would pale in comparison. Still, it would be preferable.

How easily Snow and Robin had killed. Not murdered—no, not in cold blood. But neither had it been mere self-defence. Not the way Snow's features had contorted and her eyes hardened as she'd slit the soldier's throat, and Robin's arrow had been tipped in something akin to revenge as it had made its course and buried itself in the fleeing knight's heart. It pained her to see them so—

What? Hardened? Cold?

Changed.

"In here, dearie."

Of course he was. Zelena's most powerful ally—or rather, her great weapon, for Rumplestiltskin was but a pawn of hers while she held the dagger. Of course she'd want to use him, set him against Regina as the one great obstacle barring her way to Zelena.

The throne room was shrouded in darkness. Regina's palm tingled with unkindled fire. As tempted as she was to light her way, it was clear that whatever was inside wouldn't harm her. Rumplestiltskin would. She wouldn't give him, or Zelena, the satisfaction of seeing her shrink away from something as mundane as the dark like some scared child. Her stride was brisk and echoed off the flagstones. The moment she entered, a burst of light blinded her temporarily: a torch flared up to each side with a roar, and the next one, and the next along the wall, until even the most remote corner was bathed in light.

Rumplestiltskin giggled in delight, uncrossed his legs and rose from the throne. Not the big, menacing one that used to be the king's and was now bedecked with emeralds the size of Regina's fist. The smaller one, the one that used to be Regina's. Memories clawed at her chest of the times she'd had to sit at Leopold's side, feeling small and insignificant as ever, the smile fixed to her lips so numb her face would hurt to rearrange into a relaxed, natural expression at the end of a long day.

Regina swallowed and tore her eyes from the wretched chair. She couldn't let herself be petrified by the past. The future was at stake.

"What a disappointingly cheap trick." Confidence trickled back into her heart at the jibe, slowly but steadily. This was familiar territory. "Times must be bad for you to have sunk so low."

"One likes to practise once in a while," Rumple shrugged, shambling on the raised platform, looking down at her - always looking down on her, she thought with an unpleasant jolt, "and I admit there've been no worthy foes around. No foes at all, really. All of them subdued, none too eager to rebel anymore."

"You wanted me to come." It had been bothering her ever since Robin had mentioned the price Rumplestiltskin had set in exchange for whatever tonic he'd given him to stretch the remainder of Marian's life. How much did Rumple remember? Had he managed to retain some awareness of things past? He had, after all, secured himself special treatment under Regina's curse. "You wanted me to come."

Rumple nodded, wiggled his fingers, fixed her with repulsive, bug-like eyes.

"And now I have to stop you. Direct orders, I'm afraid. Very clear instructions. No space to manoeuvre in."

"Because Zelena has the dagger." Regina could have made the dagger her priority, secured herself Rumple's allegiance. Her chances at success would have increased significantly with the Dark One at her command. It would have been too risky, too stupid to put people's lives at stake for though. She was certain Zelena was keeping it on herself at all times—Regina certainly would—and it wasn't an agent in the time warp magic anyway. They didn't need it to undo the spell.

"Is it the dagger you're after?" Rumple's pupils widened, shiny black and maniacal. His breath was hot on Regina's face and sickening with the stench of rotting teeth.

Regina, though she recoiled inwardly, stood her ground unflinching.

"No, and I think you know that. Otherwise why would you have tried to help me?"

He rested his chin on the back of his hand and pondered Regina's question. Up close, he looked more appalling than ever, and that was saying something. His vest was threadbare and the ornate cuffs of his shirt fringed, his gold-flecked skin displaying the same pallid squalor as his garb. The fall of the Dark One. It seemed he, much like the rest of the land, wasn't faring well under Zelena's rule.

"Why indeed?" he squinted eventually. "I wish I remembered. There's no one home though," he tapped his temple with a scaled finger, "and where else would my memory reside? It is no matter now, dearie. Let's get to business."

A lazy wave of the hand, and a suit of armour sprang to life in the far corner. It flexed its gauntleted arm, raised a spear, aimed, and released. Regina reacted instinctively and watched the rusty tip come to a halt just inches from her face and remain hanging there. Rusty like my magic. It wasn't supposed to get so close. Regina ducked as another spear rushed past her. The armour creaked and the animated suit made to throw again. New and new weapons would appear each time she magicked the last one away.

Rumple paced the width of the room with his hands behind his back, paying her absolutely no mind. The stupid imp wasn't even trying. He couldn't seriously expect this deplorable piece of rotting rubbish to end her. Regina was growing tired of this pointless little game. Deflecting the latest shaft, she sent a blast of energy straight at the breastplate. The armour crumbled to the ground, lifeless pieces scattering across the floor.

"Done playing, are we now?"

"I don't have time for games," she snapped.

In fact, she might just do. She had no way of knowing whether everyone else was safely out of the castle by now or not, so playing for time might not be a bad idea. But Zelena had been alerted of the security breach and would be on the lookout for her. For them. If the Charmings and Robin were still around, they'd more likely than not be facing consequences soon, unless Regina took care of Zelena first.

In the end, Regina didn't have much choice in the matter. Rumple was there, had been bored forever, and his eyes were transformed now, full of battle lust.

A magical battle, of course.

Enchantments criss-crossed the air. Some were aimed at each one's opponent, others at various objects they chose to utilise. Chandeliers shattered to the ground, sharp shards of glass sent dashing through the air only to be stopped by makeshift shields of golden plates and cutlery. Tapestries launched into air attacks, pelleting Regina with pins and needles and hanging nails. The heavy green runner slithered from under their feet, a thick giant of a serpent swallowing the woven air force.

"Nice touch, dearie!"

Regina warded off another onslaught, this time a gang of animated gargoyles, sending crushed stone flying in all directions.

"Stop toying with me!"

Even though every successful move returned a drop of confidence in her magic, her frustration only grew with each attack Rumple initiated. This wasn't his style. She'd expect this from Zelena maybe, but Rumple had never been one for such spectacles. With him, every physical attack was but a manifestation of some malicious tease, was aimed at some hidden flaw, crafted to injure where it would do most harm—your heart, your soul. No spear or blade could inflict as much pain as the twisted skill with which Rumple wielded psychology.

"Why, I thought we'd wait for your allies to join us. Figured you'd like to see them one last time before this unfortunate incident ends."

"Leave them out of this," Regina gritted her teeth. "They're not coming back here."

"You don't really believe that, now, do you? Or do they care so little about your fate?"

There it was: he was doing it now, playing her emotions like some morbid set of strings taut to the point of snapping.

"They're long gone, you cannot hurt them now."

"Oh, but I don't need to. You already have, by dragging them into this."

Regina closed her eyes against his words.

Story of my life—destroying what I love.

"And what for?" Rumple went on without mercy. "To die at my hands, or the Wretched Queen's."

"Don't call her that."

"Mind you, it could have been avoided. Wanted criminals should know better than to break into royal palaces. Poor princess, to think she could have married and lived happily instead."

Regina scoffed. "With a despicable brute she doesn't love, and who will never love her?"

"True. She'd probably have done something stupid to seal her fate anyway. Run off with her twue wove, perhaps."

A bead of cold sweat rolled off Regina's brow and landed on the back of her hand. Relax. This wasn't personal. They weren't talking about her here, or her marriage to Leopold, or the thoughts, however brief, she'd had in the doorway of the tavern that night of escaping her misery and finding her happily ever after with the man with the lion tattoo. Rumple didn't know any of this, not here anyway. He knew nothing of Henry or Cora or Regina's own terrible past, couldn't use them against her now. Regina still had an advantage, she knew his style. Rumple only had the weapons she was equipping him with now. That was something, at least.

"The thief, though, has too many records already to hope for a fate other than—" He made a revolting gesture of a head being chopped off, and a morbid little sound to go with it. A wave of sickness overcame her at the very thought. Regina swallowed it back, felt the acidic taste of it burn her throat. "Oh, don't worry about him. He's a clever rascal, probably miles away by now with as much treasure as he could manage to carry. Pluck your brains, dearie. You don't honestly believe he'd resist the temptations of a royal treasury."

It stung irrationally, yet her heart leapt at the thought of Robin long gone. Safe. She wanted that for him, didn't she? With or without her heart, she wanted him to live.

Something must have shown, some of the emotion her heart was momentarily overflowing with must have surfaced to her face. Rumple drank her in hungrily, eyes narrowed and cheeks puffed out. He huffed out a chuckle.

"Ah! Did itty-bitty thiefie worm his way into your heart?"

"Stop it! Just stop." She shouldn't have given herself away so foolishly, but she had always found it hardest to suppress her rage at her most vulnerable. So to at least minimise the damage, she lashed right back at him. "I'd focus on your precious Belle if I were you."

It was a wild guess, a shot in the dark really, for she had no way of knowing whether Belle was even in the picture or, indeed, in what capacity. But Rumple's face fell, his features rearranged, and she knew then that it'd hit home. She had the advantage now, but what spell would be potent enough to neutralise the Dark One?

Before either of them could come up with a new torment or produce a game-changing piece of magic, a high-pitched wail echoed through the halls, rolled off the walls and hit her eardrums with such force her hands flew to her ears. The air was filled with wings and screeches as ugly beasts swarmed into the throne room.

A particularly nasty one descended on Regina, but she was already releasing a fireball.

And, like too many times before, she missed the agile beast. And missed again.

"Out of the way!"

An arrow whizzed past Regina's ear. Her stomach did a double-flip, even though the image in her mind was clearly wrong—the voice didn't match. Regina caught sight of Snow notching another arrow just as David bounded in, sword in hand, cutting and parrying with sets of hooked claws, pointed teeth, and crushing wings.

So much for a safe escape.

Regina yelped in pain and clutched her shoulder. Streaks of blood oozed from three angry tracks left by a particularly cunning simian. Not for long, though, as it had the misfortune of flying straight into the path of Charming's blade. Seconds later, its head was lolling from its neck, then rolling on the marble floor. Regina's skin tingled. She threw her arms out. A ball of purple hit the invisible protective shield, broke into dozens of rays that ricocheted off the walls. One of them managed to hit her from the side, singing her hair, scalding her wound. Regina hissed, released a sharp cry as she let fly her own spell in response.

Rumple warded it off easily.

A shiny, silver-coated surface at the back of the room caught her eye. Regina grinned and sent another inefficient ball of light at Rumple. This one was handled by a dismissive wave of his arm.

"You're losing your touch, dea-"

The air was knocked out of the imp as an invisible force swept him from the ground and threw him against the throne, leaving him lying crumpled like a life-sized rag doll. Regina glanced at the mirror. He should have seen it coming - he'd been, after all, the first to introduce her to the many uses a mirror could be put to besides reflecting images. Such as reflecting spells.

"He's stirring!" Snow yelled. As if Regina didn't have her own two eyes to see.

And of course he was. There wasn't much in the way of magic that could contain the Dark One, at least not for long. Perhaps a steady influx of jinxes would achieve something, but for every spell that hit he'd ward off one or two. Not enough.

His arm rose even as he was still in a heap on the throne. Regina was ready for him. Rumple smirked, cackled, let fly.

Not at Regina. At Snow.

"No!"

Snow rose into the air before the spell ever hit her. A choked cry, the kicking of feet, the beating of wings. Then, a pained screech. A severed hand landed at Regina's feet, clawed and hairy, and Snow rolled to the floor with a bloodied knife in hand.

"Snow! Behind you! Run!" David was almost beyond recognition now for all the sweat and gore covering him, but kept slashing at the beasts.

Snow rose, staggered, and broke into a graceless run.

Regina groaned. The idiot was headed straight towards Rumplestiltskin. The damn imp bared his blackened teeth in a beastly sneer.

"Watch out!"

But by the time the warning sank in, by the time Snow looked up and noticed, she was almost by the throne. Regina waited, her magic itching to be unleashed, ready for the moment Snow White would find the sense to get out of the way. And she tried, but the momentum she was in was too much. Her upper body jerked curiously, her feet tangled. She tripped. Regina watched, horrified, as Snow plummeted forward, straight towards Rumple's smug leer.

There was a brief commotion, a frantic struggle, and then—nothing.

"Snow!"

The sound of bone being crushed made Regina's stomach clench before she glimpsed David's sword hilt shattering the skull of the last flying bastard. They reached the heap that was Snow and Rumple at the same time.

"Snow!"

She stirred.

Grabbing her by an arm each, Regina and David pulled her to her feet.

The Dark One remained on the floor, encased in bonds of rippling air.

Regina picked up a tattered pouch.

"Where did you get this?"

"I've-" Snow panted, "had it forever." She paused, catching her breath. "It's supposed to be magical but it seemed a hoax. I've been keeping it for luck."

Fortuna simply never left Snow White's side, did she? Not in their universe and not in this one.

"Some luck you have. This is fairy dust. It's one of the most potent magical substances, and one of the only substances capable of containing a magical being."

"I- captured him?"

Regina nodded, shook her head. Only Snow could be so damn lucky that her clumsiness would bring her salvation. Well, this time at least it was something to be thankful for.

A nasty gash, possibly formed by many criss-crossing scratches, stretched across David's chest, shoulder to hip, like a ghastly red sash.

"Get him out of here," Regina said. "Take the sword and the brain, and go."

Snow opened her mouth to protest, an outpouring of nobleness imminent.

"There's no time for this, Snow. Go before it's too-"

"Late?"

The mocking voice from the midst of a puff of green smoke meant it was now exactly that - too late.

"Welcome, little sister." Zelena sauntered towards the party: David now leaning heavily on Snow due to considerable blood loss, Snow gaping at her with a mix of absolute terror and pure hatred, and Regina with her mind working furiously on a plan to get those two out and reap the victory she'd come all the way here for. "Welcome home."

"This was never my home, Zelena."

"Oh, you know the saying. Home is where the heart is. And yours?" Zelena stepped closer, close enough to spit the last words right into Regina's face. "Why, it's right here, dear."

Much like everyone else Regina had met, this realm had changed Zelena as well, and not in a good way. Most conspicuously, her skin wasn't green - at least not obviously so. Her complexion was almost the same shade Regina's had been in her Evil Queen days: white and pallid. Up close, where specks of cerussa paint—toxic, she now knew, and the very idea of slathering it all over her skin sickened her—clotted in the creases of Zelena's face, the green tint underneath was still discernible. Her hands were hidden from sight, covered by long gloves; Regina wondered if Zelena ever took them off. Her dress was something out of the Evil Queen's wardrobe.

But it was Zelena's eyes that made Regina's skin erupt in goosebumps. They lacked life. Even while they were trained on Zelena's mortal enemy, even while every ounce of her body was supposed to be threatening, her eyes were empty. They bore a maniacal glint—not unlike the Evil Queen's back in the day, Regina shuddered to remember. Like the greenness of the skin, so the paint strove to cover the dark circles under the drooping eyes.

Zelena blinked and, as if spurred by the realisation of what it was Regina was doing, turned away. The sight of Rumple in bondage at the foot of the throne seemed to cause her no discomfort whatsoever, quite the contrary: the corners of her mouth turned up, and she scoffed at the sight.

"Behold the fearsome Dark One, overpowered by a bunch of—well, you. Pathetic. Now, what do I do with you?"

"You let them go. Have it out with me."

"Nice try, sis. But no. Guards!"

A motley of Cyclopes and human soldiers— just where had they been during the monkey showdown?—marched in with much tumult. Two grabbed Snow and David each and dragged them away in the direction of Zelena's flicked wrist. One stationed himself behind Regina but didn't attempt to seize her.

"And how did you like living my life, Regina?" Zelena sauntered towards her, her face so perfectly disdainful Regina never believed it for a second. She knew the trick too well, had resorted to it herself many times in the past.

"The question is, did you find what you were looking for in mine?"

The ugly grimace didn't exactly improve Zelena's visage. Her face seemed to flash a more pronounced green under the thick layer of white paint.

"I was going to give you a chance, you know. But this hero act of yours is becoming so obnoxious, it makes me sick to be around. I'm afraid I must return to the original plan. Goodbye, sis," she spat.

Regina was ready. Or was she? Her hands moved and there was a burst of magic, but was it the right kind? Light magic still didn't come easily to her, and despite Zelena's words she didn't feel particularly heroic. Snow and David had been detained and Robin, well, who even knew what horrific fate he'd met in the bowels of the castle. Light was supposed to feel warm, at least that's what she thought, but the gripping worries were chilling instead. Could this be a place to tap into light magic? So Regina's eyes closed in anticipation of a blow, first of magic, then of whatever surface it would propel her into.

Zelena shrieked. Regina opened her eyes just in time to see the combined forces of dark and light magic, forced together on impact and propelled sideways, hit the raised podium. The throne shattered into pieces, sending chunks of gold and precious stones flying.

"You bitch!"

It was Maine Street all over again, but far better matched. It was her recent battle with Rumple again, but less calculated and more ferocious. More down Regina's lane. A match of temperament; they were, after all, of the same blood. Curses flew as she and Zelena kept circling each other, wider and wider the longer Regina was holding her fight. A Cyclops launched in once in a while at first, a Green Knight here and there, but before Regina could deal with them, they'd all fall to the ground, clutching the hilt of a dagger or the shaft of an arrow sticking out from their crippling wounds. Snow and David, she assumed, though she hadn't seen them return, didn't stop to think how unlikely the duo were to have overpowered four guards in David's state.

A brief lull settled in after what seemed like hours. Her light magic (Hers. Light. Unbelievable.) should have been enough long ago, like the single blast of it had been enough at the barn, but somehow Zelena's was stronger here. Perhaps it was the accursed time warp, perhaps it was because she was the creator of this universe. Perhaps she still held Regina's heart and drew power from that. Perhaps Robin had failed…

No. No, she couldn't think such thoughts. The very idea made her insides squirm like leaden snakes coiling in her belly. Fear gripped her, and fear was an enemy that had to be vanquished before she could hope to defeat Zelena.

Her heart. Hers. How dare Zelena rob her of it? So maybe it wasn't as pristine as Snow's (which, in fact, wasn't that spotless either, not anymore), but it was hers, and Zelena had no claim to it, no right.

" I want my heart back, Zelena," Regina snarled. "All of it: the scars, the bruises, the darkness. I will have it back."

Zelena acted fast. Regina countered the spell but instead of a blinding white, a familiar flash of purple shot out of her hands. Next thing she knew, she was being lifted up into the air and smashed against a pillar. Her head split into a million pieces. Perhaps it hadn't been the best of ideas, driving out fear with anger. Anger was dark. She should have known.

There was no time to recuperate before the next wave came, riding on a cackle so malicious It could only have been born out of an unshakable sense of victory. Regina braced herself for the impact.

It came, but not at all the way she'd expected. A rushing sound. An angry curse, as though something hadn't gone according to plan, even though Regina, still dizzy and numb, had done nothing whatsoever. A clank of armour as it smashed against the pillar, smashed against Regina, landed in a heap on the floor and in her lap.

The Green Knight's helmet rolled away.

Robin.

No, that couldn't be right. He shouldn't be here. How could he be here? But he was. He was, and blood was seeping from under the disjointed plates of green armour.

Regina forced her arms to move, pulled him close, looked him over frantically. He was pale, so very pale, and there was a pool of blood, ever growing, at their feet. But he smiled up at her anyway, blinked once: it's done, your heart is safe.

At what price?

"Why did you do that?"

Robin's hands found her arm, fisted a bunch of her shirt and held on.

"I—keep dreaming about you," he groaned, his breathing heavy. "You're in my dreams every night, looking for your heart, and it turns out I have it. Why?"

Regina shivered. So he had retained some of their past after all, some of what they'd felt for each other. A brief but invigorating jolt of joy swept through her.

Robin let go of her sleeve and gripped her arm instead. "You know why," he whispered.

"If this ends well," she says, though how could it, with him like this, "you'll know, too. I promise."

"You want a heart so much." Zelena had been watching, her face unreadable. Just watching. As if she knew this was the worst kind of torture that could be inflicted upon Regina, worse than any piece of magic. She probably did know. And had more to say. "You don't know how lucky you are not to have one. Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable."

The world slowed down as Zelena worked up another deadly spell, her eyes trained on Robin's limp figure.

"First a servant, now a thief. Mother would be so proud. Really, Regina, how could someone with such lowly taste ever have become queen?"

Regina stood, fighting off nausea, and stepped in front of Robin.

"How sweet. Shielding him won't help, sis. So sorry." And for a split second, Zelena almost seemed it, too.

But I love him, choked Regina's heart. Just like it had once before, decades ago, as she'd clutched a different lifeless body to her.

Not again!

Perhaps if she were quick, and very very lucky, she could still save him.

Bile rose in her throat, the odious taste of sick. She paid it no mind. With her arms spread, Regina awaited the blast of magic designed to kill. And there it was now, closing in, its course true, true to Zelena's threat. Enough to end them both. End everything Regina'd built, everything she cared about, everything that could, maybe, lead to her happy ending.

She stopped it.

She wouldn't have been able to say how, since her feet could barely carry her, but just as the spell was about to hit, a shield materialised around them, an invisible protective capsule impervious to magic. Spells rained upon it, Zelena was screeching, showering them in malignant jinxes. The shield held, but only just. It was draining Regina's energy fast, feeding on it like a ravenous beast with a bottomless stomach. Stars sprang to life before Regina's eyes. Black spots hindered her vision, ever harder to blink back. Still she endured. No magic made it inside the protective bubble. The shockwaves, however, were a different matter, and even muffled by the shield the tremor was considerable. Growing.

Another viridescent explosion sent Regina to the ground. The landing was surprisingly soft, her fall cushioned by something warm and pliant. Wet. With blood. Despite the racket, Robin didn't stir. A dry sob rattled in her chest, squeezed at her throat, broke to the surface.

Robin's arrows lay scattered at his side, his bow out of reach. Regina picked up an arrow. Its feathers were ruffled and bent beyond repair. It would never fly straight.

It didn't need to.

Regina pushed herself to her feet, clutching the arrow like a lifeline. The hailstorm of curses had grown sparser recently. Perhaps Zelena was tired. Perhaps she thought she'd already won. Regina was the more exhausted of the two of them, light magic taking a heavier toll on her than its more familiar dark counterpart. Another spell, be it Zelena's or her own, and Regina might easily collapse.

The shield rippled and dissolved.

Regina raised her arm as if it weren't a flimsy arrow she was holding but a mighty dagger, and charged at Zelena. Snow and Charming had barged into the room at some point, were now shouting words Regina neither could nor cared to understand. The world was black, not only in patches now but completely, perfectly black, but she staggered on blindly with her hand raised, the arrow tip pointing downward. With a heaving breath, her vision cleared enough to make out the outline of Zelena, blurry but enough.

Zelena seemed too shocked by Regina's delirious rush to even move. She did scream, however, oh yes, and how, when Regina groped around, found what she was looking for, and ripped the emerald pendant from Zelena's neck. Zelena's hands came up over her head in a pitiful gesture of self-preservation just as Regina's arm flexed for the blow. It landed just as Rumple's binds had worn off.

Zelena was not its target.

The arrow plunged into the green stone of the pendant, split the gem clean, and ripped the world apart.