Chapter XLVII

Hedge Your Bets

Italics = Magical Illusion

They bragged that chess was the ultimate battle of wits. That it was the peak of strategy, tactics and made for a keen mind. They, whoever they were, were wrong. Any peasant could drive pieces across a board. Chess was interesting but the real test was cards. Leah was partial to poker.

Poker was both coldly calculated and blisteringly passionate. You had to plan, observe, react and re-strategize in seconds. There was a certain amount of mathematics involved. Statistics, probability, and simple arithmetic. All things the average teenager could master. Outside of that, there were no patterns or promises. The cards were coincidental. It all came down to the player. Leah was an excellent player, and she played to win. She, for better and usually worse, understood people, and that was what the game was all about. Her royal upbringing and personal control gave her an almost flawless poker face.

That down-pat poker face was the only way she'd kept herself together. She had remained calm while everything had gone awry. Leah wasn't sure how things had gone so wrong. She had given Snow White more than enough rope to hang herself with. Her pretty-boy husband too. The Ball should have been the final nail in their double coffin.

But yet again Snow had gotten far more help and luck than she deserved. Regina should have killed her years ago. She'd had countless chances to do so.

Leah shook her head. Why did Regina Mills continue to help the one woman she claimed to hate? The same reason she had only played at killing her for all those years.

Bastian Ceola wouldn't have laid out a lavish display for anyone else. Not for fast and not for the budget they'd had to work with. No. Regina had done that.

She'd also come in and changed the decor. All the painted canvas heraldry became embroidered silk. She'd spent a lot of money and used a lot of powerful magic without blinking an eye. Magic came with a cost and Regina had used a lot of it. All to help her so-called enemy.

She'd played poker with Regina for years and knew what made the woman tick. She wasn't bad at cards, but Regina let her emotions rule her. She let her emotions run rampant, even when she didn't understand or acknowledge them. Emotional mess or not, Regina knew how to play the game. She knew how to put on a royal show as well as any blueblood. Her little speech had proved that.

A speech, Leah scoffed. As if Regina was still the Mayor. She shuffled some papers around on her desk. Dramatic (melodramatic)or not, Regina knew what she was doing. More than that, she had helped Aurora. The Evil Queen had given her something rare and precious, closure. She'd given Aurora a chance to say goodbye and make her piece. That was something neither she nor Regina had ever received. Leah twisted her necklace around and between her fingers. Regina would still die. She was The Evil Queen and had earned execution a hundred times over. Leah would try to see that it was a dignified death. For Aurora.

Leah took a sip of her coffee and winced. It was ice cold. Not that the faculty lounge's coffee was good hot or cold.

She hadn't told Hannah, her secretary, to come in today. So she had to fetch her own coffee. Leah stood and winced when her joints popped and snapped. She hadn't slept all night. Aurora had spent the night with Belle and (presumably) Mulan, Thank God. Leah had come to her office after she and Steffan had argued.

She was feeling those hours now. She ached all over. Her back, shoulders, and neck were tighter than piano wire. She would take a walk too. She could use some movement and fresh air. She would go to Granny's and get some decent coffee. Everyone would see her. Unbent. Unbroken. Unstoppable. As far as Storybrooke knew, her household was celebrating. They had Aurora back and her beloved was at peace. More importantly, she had to remind everyone of her rightful position, her strength. She wasn't bending over to lick Regina Mills' heels.

It wasn't all about her pride, though. Last night's shenanigans had destroyed very important plans. Leah would set things right and get everything back on course. She always did. She needed time and space, which is why she'd spent all night working. Leah had to stay sharp, focused and-

She took two steps and stumbled, felt light-headed. She hadn't slept or eaten in hours. She checked her watch, many more hours than she wanted to think about.

"I should get a sandwich too." She scrubbed her hand over her face. She could feel a migraine coming on. Leah opened her door with a sigh. "Maybe I'll grab a nice bottle of scotch too."

"A little early for that, isn't it Dearie?"

Leah jerked back in surprise and cursed at herself for it.

It was Saturday. Not that things like locks and business hours had ever stopped The Dark One.

"Besides-" He came closer. His black and silver cane clicked on the floor with every step. "-wouldn't it make this" He brushed his fingers across her left cheek. She stood as still as a statue and refused to flinch. She ignored the pain that his touch brought. She would not show further weakness to him. Not even, or especially if his light touch hurt. "Worse? The bruises will only get bigger that way."

Then, like a peace-offering, she felt a warm tingle of magic in her face and felt the pain fade away. The marks remained because there had to be evidence. She wasn't the first battered queen he had healed.

Rumplestiltskin said nothing. He didn't wait for an invitation either. He limped his way around her and took a seat on the couch she'd had the gym teachers shove into her small office years ago.

Gold made himself comfortable. He crossed his bad leg over his good one. He sat his cane beside him, within reach but not as a weapon. The Dark One did not need a weapon.

He was at ease like he hadn't a care in the world. Gold looked like a nice, normal businessman. If Leah didn't know any better, she would think they were peers. Robert Gold sounded like Old Money. A man with a long pedigree and an Ivy League degree that he didn't need. He could have hurt himself playing polo or driving sports cars too fast. He would have Belle as his pretty, young, useless wife and a recreational cocaine habit. Looks were deceiving. He wasn't any of that. He was the master of all darkness. An evil imp who enjoyed suffering, pain and absolute control over others. He was a bastard in a three-thousand dollar suit.

He moved his hand and a swirl of smoke made a proper high tea with her favorite pastries and finger foods appear. The Dark One was feeling generous today. That couldn't be a good thing.

"Come sit."

He tilted his head and his hair swept over his face. He looked normal, non-threatening, almost handsome. His small, sweet, smile made him look completely different. She could almost see why Belle French had stayed with him for so long.

"We'll chat."

Lunch and a chat with the Dark One. Nobles, kings, and heroes had dined and died in similar circumstances. Even knowing that she still preferred him over her husband.

Though it was her office, it was his tea set, and he moved to serve her. He poured a cup of tea and added the perfect amount of milk. "One lump," He asked even though he knew. "Or two?"

He wore his humanity as well as he did his clothes. A demon in a person suit.

"No, thank you." She waved away the white cube he held in a dainty set of tongs. It was all proper and civilized.

They'd shared drinks, pleasantries, countless hands of cards. He knew her, and she knew him. Both here and there. Leah knew Rumplestiltskin and Robert Gold. She knew his tells.

The twitch of his lips. The way he crossed his legs. The way he cradled his teacup (like it was precious). Everything he did told her he had a good hand. The last twenty-four hours had reduced her hand to mediocre at best. Still, it wasn't the cards. It was how you played them. A deal with the devil was exactly what she needed to stay in the game.

"Have you heard the latest news, Dearie? Another fire." He tsked, "Such a blight on our happy little town."

Leah sipped her tea, a perfectly steeped jasmine, and let herself enjoy it. She sighed, already done with his games.

"Out with it, Rumplestiltskin." She didn't know if names still had power, but she still knew his and wanted him to know it.

"No polite small talk then, Your Majesty." He put his cup down. "Things are changing. There is something happening new every day."

She smiled into her teacup as she savored her sip. She swirled her drink and wished she could add a dash of liquor instead of a squeeze of lemon.

"So we must change too." Gold continued conversationally. He propped his hands on top of his came. His fingers curled around and traced the swirling silver decorations. He was holding back, teasing her.

"Stop wasting my time, Gold."

He shook his head, "We both want the same thing, Leah. We want Storybrooke to change for our better."

He was still beating around the bush, building up to something.

"I told you once that I could take care of dear Steffan for you." He over-enunciated Stephen's name. He gave it the Old World pronunciation. She hated it. It set her teeth on edge.

She remembered that night. It had been tempting. She also remembered that she'd told him no then. It was still no.

"You have nothing I want, Dark One.'' She scowled. "Now if you don't mind."

"I can give you the one thing you desire."

Leah laughed, and a bitter taste flooded her mouth. "Impossible.'' She closed her eyes and for a moment the bitterness faded. She could see curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She could hear giddy laughter and feel warm arms around her waist.

Leah opened her eyes and grit her teeth. "I don't believe in any Happily Ever After you're selling."

"I can give her back to you.'' His lips twitched into an almost-smile. "Give you back all those lost years. Change the one event that you regret the most."

She wasn't a fool. Rumplestiltskin was powerful, but not that powerful. No one was.

"I am not a star-struck princess you can manipulate. Go pitch this pathetic plan to Snow White. Magic can not bring back the dead or turn back time. The Savior murdered Maleficent. There is no magical cure for a sword to the heart." Even now, after so many years, the name held sway over her heart. Each syllable pierced and stung like a needle. Sharper than a serpent's tooth.

Leah twisted the amethyst. The small shining stone that her lover had given her when they were fifteen and everything was honey and roses.. She bit the inside of her cheek and shook her head. "Leave.''

She steeled her spine metaphorically and sank her nails into her thigh physically. She would not cry in front of this demon.

"You were a princess once, with true love and a dream that almost came true. I could make all that princess's dreams come true. Give her that happy ending."

He stood up, leaned on his cane, and went to the window. It overlooked the empty playground. He seemed distant, almost like he was looking into another world.

"No Steffan. No schemes. No heartache. You and your darling dragon would be together. You would raise your daughter together."

He waggled his fingers and her office changed. It was subtle but she could look around and see scenes from a different life.

A framed photo appeared on the corner of her desk. She picked it up and felt tears in her eyes. It was her Maleficent and Aurora. They were at the park with almost identical smiles on their faces. Aurora looked about six years old and they both looked so happy. She had never seen her two loves together. Her office walls saw more changes. Photos of herself and Maleficent. A painting of a beautiful dragon in flight. A family portrait of three smiling women.

"You'll have happy memories to replace the-" He paused and pointedly looked at her cheek. "Less than happy ones." He swept his arm around the room, showing all the changes. "No Steffan and no sleeping curses, just happiness." He repeated himself for emphasis. "She'll still die. As you said, no magic can fix that. It won't be so bad, though. You'll be right there this time.

He waved his hand again, and the air rippled. Leah could see it, smell it, hear it, feel it.

The scarf wrapped around Maleficent's head matched her robe. Always fashionable, even in the worst of times. She was, as she had always been, beautiful.

"Don't worry, My Love." Her voice was a whisper. "I'm not afraid."

"Mama." Aurora stood at the hospital room door. She was so young, still in her school uniform. She rushed over to the bed and hugged them both.

"My sweet little sunbeam." Mal reached up and tugged on Aurora's loose hair. It was something she'd done since Aurora had been a little girl.

Leah choked down a sob because when she'd been a little girl Aurora had tugged on Maleficent's hair too.

"Stop lurking at the door, Mulan. You're family too." Mal smiled.

Mulan, younger with rounded cheeks and a letterman's jacket, came closer.

"Mrs. Drake." Mulan smiled.

"How many times-" Maleficent tugged at the plastic tube looped under her nose. "-do I have to ask you to call me Mal?''

Thin, pale, sick and on death's door, but Maleficent still made Leah smile.

It was bittersweet, and Leah ached at the scene. This was where she was meant to be, with her family, with her love. Always.

"You could be there." The Dark One's grating voice brought her back. "No swords. No saviors. You could hold her hand and sing her to sleep one last time."

Leah hated that he knew that about her, about them. She bit the inside of the cheek until she tasted blood. She would not cry.

"What do you want?"

She had scoffed at Ella and her ilk, those who made deals for their dreams. Now faced with the same offer, she was ready to sign on the dotted line. Sign away her soul for one more day, one more minute, with her True Love.

"Oh! A word here, a little petty theft there. No one will even know."

Someone would know. Someone always knew. The dying, the dead, the devil and her.

"No Steffan?" She would give anything to rid herself of her husband.

"A sperm donor, anonymous and forgotten. I'll strip him of his money and social standing." He smirked, "My magic is faster and more satisfying than your machinations. How does a lowly cannery worker sound? On the night shift." He chuckled. "He'll be drunk, dirty and depressed for the rest of his life."

It was perfect, better than her best and most joyful dreams.

"Deal.''

Rumple didn't hold out a contract. He held out his hand instead. "You won't regret this.''

She had too many regrets to count, but not this. This promise of a better world, of a happy ending, made everything better. All the tears would be worth it. Sometimes a mother had to do what was best for her child, even it was reprehensible. Leah had to do this. For Aurora. For Maleficent.

She twisted the amethyst again. For herself too.

"Woah!"

Regina followed Henry's route but already knew what he saw. "Oh, He's found the training field."

"The what?" Emma was right behind her and had no idea what they were stumbling into.

Regina pushed through the greenery and smiled a little. It was like stepping into the past. They had turned a soccer field into a proper training ground. It was on par with the ones she had built for her army. Not surprising. She knew who had built it. She may or may not have donated some money to it after she'd received some calls. They had done a good job. It looked like a piece of the Enchanted Forest had landed in Storybrooke.

"Holy shit! The Ren Faire has nothing on this." Emma grinned and put her hand on Henry's shoulder. "Those are, like, real knights and shit."

Emma and Henry looked more like mother and son than ever. They had the same wide and toothy smile and glint of wonder in their eyes. They were so excited, so amazed, that she didn't bother to correct Emma's language.

Regina took each of them by the hand. "'Come on, then." She walked them around and pointed out the different stations and weapons in use. This was a part of her world that she could share with them.

There were targets and marked lanes set up for archery, knives, axes and even throwing spears.

They were constructing jousting lanes too. Regina wished they wouldn't. Jousting caused more injuries and deaths than an actual war. Not to mention the danger to the horses. The horses were twice as valuable as some of the oafish knights that rode them.

The main attractions were, of course, the sword rings. There were four, and they were all in use.

"Look!" Henry pulled them towards one ring. Sir Frederick, Jim, was leading a class. Six or seven children were doing drills with wooden swords. They followed Jim's movements with careful concentration. The other three rings had sparring adults in them.

"Mulan will love this stuff." Emma was looking around, trying to see everything at once. She was as excited as Henry. "If you can get her away from Rory, I mean."

Henry was too busy watching Frederick to listen to them.

"Mulan-" Regina replied. "-would make short work of most of these people. She is the finest sword woman, or man for that matter, in the kingdoms."

Regina had watched Mulan in her mirror. She had considered recruiting her. Then the warrior pledged herself to Aurora and Phillip. She had scorched several walls and burnt up her favorite tapestry when Regina saw that.

"Is she better-" Henry asked, "-than Grandpa?" Little ease-dropper.

Regina controlled her scoff, barely. "David doesn't hold a candle to Mulan."

"David?" A new voice entered the conversation. "Why would you take lessons from that rookie?"

Jill Hill did not bother to hold back. She never did. She ambled over with her sword over her shoulder. She was Henry's gym teacher but before that Jill and her brother had been Regina's most loyal guards. She trusted Jill with her life. She trusted her with Henry's life.

"Your mother is a master swords woman in her own right. Learn from her."

Damm it. Sometimes Jill should hold back.

Both Emma and Henry looked at her and Regina sighed. "Jillian-" Regina forced the name through her teeth. "'-is exaggerating."

She was not a master. She had never bested her father. He had always beat her soundly. She had only started training when she had embraced her Evil Queen identity. After The King, she swore that she would never be without defense, be it magical or otherwise. Very few people knew she could wield a sword. She wished she could say that it was strategic, but it was not.

Regina had been irrationally afraid that her mother would find out. Every time she picked up a blade, she heard her mother's voice. It echoed in her head, chastised her, screamed at her. Phantom pains from past punishments rushed through her body. Mother had not approved of her childhood interest in swordplay. She had used her magic to show her disapproval. Even now Regina swore she could feel her mother's magic. Anytime she did something inappropriate. It was like a tic she couldn't control.

"Mom."

Henry tugged on her arm and brought her out of her dark thoughts. Emma rubbed her thumb across her hand. Regina hadn't realized that they'd noticed her mental absence. She blinked away the bitter past and focused on her beautiful present.

"Yes, Henry?"

He frowned at her. He seemed almost worried. "I asked if you can really sword fight. Can you? His face changed as he spoke. He looked interested and excited. For the first time in a very long time, he was looking at her as something other than a villain.

"Yeah," Emma added. "Does Madam Mayor sword fight in her spare time?"

Many people were, Regina realized, paying attention to them. Everyone was waiting for her answer.

"Yes, but-"

Emma and Henry both started asking questions.

"Well'' Another familiar voice called out, loud and clear. "they better say it better to show than to tell."

Kathryn Nolan stood at the edge of the nearest sword ring. Gone was last night's ball gown. She wore yoga pants, sneakers, and a plain gray tee. Her blonde hair was tied back, and she had a sword strapped to her hip.

"Unless you're afraid of a little friendly sparring."

"Yeah! Do it, Mom!" Henry was bouncing up and down. " I wanna see you fight!"

Jack and Jill already had their swords out, ready to offer them to her. They would also fight for her without hesitation.

"Baby?" Emma squeezed her hand and spoke under her breath. "You don't have to do this. You have a choice and you can choose to go home. We can go home and play Monopoly or Scrabble. No questions asked."

Yes. Regina had a choice. She could spar now or lose face in front of everyone. This was not a friendly match, this was about proving herself. She had declared that there were no kings and queens in Storybrooke and now she had to back up her words. If she didn't do this herself, then she was all but declaring that she was still the Queen.

She had a choice. To face Kathryn, to face the wrong she'd done. This was not about good sportsmanship or even putting on a show. This was about atoning and giving Kathryn her right to retribution. To deny her this challenge would be shameful. It would be another step away from the balanced path.

She had a choice. To be the person that Henry and Emma deserved to have in their lives. To be the daughter that her father would be proud of.

She had a choice. To prove that she could be just and fair, a good leader. A leader that Storybrooke could trust again.

Regina let go of her family's' hands and stepped forward. She knew everyone was watching her. She made her choice.

Her father would love this. He'd put the sword in her hand. She had been a child, maybe six, and had thought the wooden sword was the best thing in the world. Her mother had been angry, but father and Esmeralda had said she'd had talent. She'd never forgot that.

A wooden sword would not do this time, though. Regina held out her hands and thought of her father. A sheathed sword appeared with a wisp of violet smoke.

"Woah!" Henry enthused, "is that the Evil Queen's sword?"

"No.'' She would never touch that dark and blood-soaked blade again. "This is your grandfather's sword. He carried it as a Knight and General in the Southern Cavalry. He fought for his kingdom and people long before I was born. I planned to give it to you on your sixteenth birthday."

She drew the sword, still as sharp and shining as her father had kept it and handed Henry the sheath. She let her magic flow through the blade to blunt it.

"But for now-"

She twisted the sword in her hand. It was a cavalry sword, light and fast. It had been in her father's family for over a hundred years. She held it out for everyone to see. Then she nodded to Kathryn.

Regina brought the blade down to her side. The honorific gold and green cord and tassels tickled her wrist. She hadn't held a sword in years. Twenty-eight and a half, to be exact.

She chose her clothes for comfort today. For movies and the park. She wore simple slacks, a shirt, and flats. It wasn't the perfect ensemble for sparring. Still, Regina had fought in more cumbersome gowns and heels and had won. She could-would-do this. She wanted to win. Not only for her father but for her son and girlfriend, for herself.

Kathryn tilted her head towards the sword ring. "After you."

Regina could feel her pulse in her throat. Her palms were sweaty. It felt like every eye in Storybrooke was on her. There were people with cellphones out, ready to take pictures and videos. This "friendly" sparring match would be all over town in minutes.

Kathryn's blue eyes were focused and stormy blue. Her brows were furrowed and her jaw was tight. This would not be an easy fight. Regina wanted to look over her shoulder. She wanted to see Emma and Henry, to borrow some of their confidence and enthusiasm. She didn't. She had to do this herself.

Emma could not believe that their peaceful afternoon out had been interrupted! By a sword fight! This stuff only happened in Disney World and Storybrooke.

The image of Regina with a sword tattooed itself on her brain. How did she make everything look so damn sexy?

Emma blinked and shook her head to clear it. Sex brain would not help Regina right now. What was Kathryn's deal, anyway? Okay, so yes, Regina had played a part in her kidnapping and fake death. There was also the whole David thing. So Kathryn might have a bone or two to pick with Regina.

Emma frowned. She wished that she was the one sword fighting instead. Not that she knew how, but it was the principle of the matter. She was the Savior and Regina's girlfriend. Shouldn't she be the brave knight fighting for Regina's honor or something? She was the leather-jacket bi. She was the butch one. She hadn't checked the LGBTQ+ Agenda lately, but she was pretty sure she was The Butch. She should do the fighting, right?

Regina didn't seem worried, though. She even winked over her shoulder at Henry. She acted like it was a game. Kathryn didn't look like she was here for shits and giggles, though.

Not to mention that half the town was watching. Even the kids had stopped practicing to watch.

"A keg-" Jim said with a grin, "-on my Katie."

The other gym teacher, the hulking blonde woman that had co-escorted Regina to the Ball, scoffed. "Two big top-shelf bottles of scotch on My Queen."

Jill and Jim seemed like good friends. They didn't seem worried either. Why was nobody worried?

The other hulking blonde, Jack, signed something. Emma wasn't sure what he said, but his sister sure did.

She spoke and signed back to him. "I am not repeating that in front of Henry."

Jim laughed long and loud and turned to Emma.

"You want in on this action, Sheriff? I'll take cash too, you know." He grinned, "Or if you can get your hands on some cider."

No, she shouldn't be betting in front of the Kid. Especially on a freaking sword fight.

"C'mon. My wife versus your" He smirked. "Baby Mama."

"Fifty dollars on my Mom, Coach Smithson."

Emma snapped her head to the side. Henry was grinning like a little lunatic. A rich little lunatic.

"Kid!"

He shrugged one shoulder and smiled the biggest shit-eating-grin she'd ever seen on a kid. She should probably stop him, or at least disapprove.

She couldn't. He was backing his Mom. Emma knew that their mother-son relationship had been rocky for a while. She also knew that she hadn't helped with that. She had made it worse, sometimes on purpose. Now she didn't want to stop the healing process. She wanted to help any way she could.

So instead of disapproving, she doubled down.

"Okay. One hundred dollars and a bottle of cider on my-" Emma chuckled. "-Baby Mama."

The crowd was getting rowdier and everyone was jockeying for a good view of the show. One of the guys from the cannery stepped into the ring with the women.

"Lowell." Merida appeared beside her much taller wife. She was fast and as quiet as a cat. Freaking assassins. "Is a good man. He's fair, unbiased, with a good eye for swordplay." The word swordplay sounded so much nicer and less threatening when it was in an accent. Not like real life at all. Still, though, Emma gave Merida the side-eye. She hadn't forgotten about the scars on Regina's shoulder or who had put them there.

Speaking of arrows, Merida had a bow and a quiver full of arrows tossed over her shoulder. She was watching the soon-to-be-fight and the crowd. Her gaze was calm and calculating. She had a small smile. She was in her element.

Emma was not, and that made her even more nervous. She didn't know what to expect. She'd seen Mulan swing a sword around. She'd thrown a sword. She'd watched Highlander. That was about it.

"Relax Swan." The fire-chief and former friggin' assassin said. "Her Majesty knows what she is doing." She shrugged, "But Kathryn does have a lot of anger hidden behind that cool exterior. It is a fair fight."

Great. Emma sighed and felt her blood pressure rise.

"Mills, ready?"

The referee, judge, umpire, whatever called out.

Regina raised her sword.

"Nolan, ready?"

"That's Smithson!" Two voices, one in the ring and one outside shouted out. Kathryn and Jim were disgustingly cute, very married and wanted everyone to know it.

Lowell shrugged and corrected himself. "Smithson, ready?"

This time Kathryn raised her sword too.

He stepped back and let his raised hands fall. "Begin!"

So the match-duel-fight-whatever-begun.

Emma didn't want it to start. She wanted it to stop. She wanted this stupid fight to stop. She wanted to take Regina home. The closest she wanted her girlfriend to be to a sword was watching Star Wars.

Emma didn't say any of that, though. Regina had something to prove, and she had made her choice. Emma would not take away Regina's choices. Even if she disagreed with them. Emma didn't like it, but if she was honest, she would make the same decision.

"Now Smithson-" Jill was speaking to the many children around her. She was a teacher even off duty. "-is using an arming sword. You use it alongside a shield or a second blade."

Emma didn't know crap about swords. She knew about a hundred shady stores in Boston where you could get a fake katana. She knew that the Sword and the Stone was her favorite Disney cartoon. She knew that if She-Ra held her sword in the air, shit got real. She knew that Xena's sword was the best. That was it. So she tried to listen to Jill since she knew all about this shit.

Now she wasn't a sword expert, but Emma knew how to fight. She'd learned to dirty-fight as a kid. Later she'd added a little bit of boxing, a little bit of judo and a lot of bashing-with-handy-blunt-object. What Emma could see that Kathryn was confident.

She took a test swing and thrust and the movement was fast and smooth. She shifted from foot to foot, ready to go.

Regina didn't take a test swing or move much. Her action was all in her eyes. She was taking everything in, observing her opponent.

"I never sent you a proper thank-you-card for the wedding gift you sent Jim and me." Kathryn sounded normal, chipper and not like she was in a sword fight at all.

Regina lifted her sword to shoulder height and pointed it at Kathryn. "Social graces are always put under a strain when wars break out. You were busy, I was busy." She shrugged, "How did they end up here in Storybrooke, though?"

Emma had no idea what they were talking about, or why they were having a conversation during a fight, anyway.

Women were a mystery to her.

They were circling each other, sizing each other up.

"They were in Gold's pawn shop. He charged Jim over two-thousand dollars to buy them back. It was highway robbery."

They both snickered, and Emma had no idea why.

"Actually no. My personal armorer made them. He is a master swordsmith, and those were his finest pieces to date."

Emma looked over at Jim. He had a matching sword, complete with a gold handle in a fancy sheath, strapped to his hip.

Of course, Regina had thought matching gold swords would make for a good wedding gift. Of course.

"And Mills is using a type of saber." Jill continued. "It's a cavalry sword. It is fast, agile and made for horse-mounted combat."

"Why-" A girl a few years older than Henry piped up, "-aren't they using long swords?"

Yeah. Why weren't they using the same sword? Wouldn't that be, like, standard? And fair? Like they did at the Olympics? Emma was pretty sure that David's sword was a long sword. Most of the swords in movies were pretty long too. Mulan would know the answer.

Jill didn't answer at all because Kathryn made the first big move.

She lunged forward, fast and strong. The afternoon sun glared off of her sword as she swung it.

Emma gnawed on the inside of her cheek, crossed her arms and watched.

Regina easily side-stepped out of the way of Kathryn's swing.

Still, Emma was a little worried. Kathryn was all arms and legs and had three inches of height on Regina. That was a lot of real estate to swing a sword around in.

Regina's sword was larger, though. That counted for something right?

Emma's breath caught when Regina finally swung her sword. It clashed against Kathryn's midway through the swing. They fought back and forth. Steel against steel (or was it really gold?). Will against will.

This wasn't a friendly sparring match. Regina and Kathryn were settling their shit, old school style. This was a medieval catfight.

Henry was hooked, watching and cheering, having the time of his life. Emma wanted it to be over.

Regina lunged and Kathryn dodged. Regina's momentum made her over-shoot and lose her balance. The tip of her sword hit the ground. She almost fell. She didn't wobble for long, though. She straightened up, tossed her hair and grinned. The fall of dark hair in her face didn't hide the fire in her eyes. Regina was enjoying herself!

"That's it, Kate!" Jim bellowed, "keep up that pressure!"

Not to be outdone, Henry cupped his hands around his mouth. "Come on, Mom!"

It was hard to imagine that he'd ever called the woman the Evil Queen. That seemed like a different boy. A different life.

Regina didn't acknowledge him, but her competitive scowl curved into a smile. "Steal time-" Regina asked Kathryn as they circled each other again. "-to train with your father's master-of-arms?"

Kathryn smiled, wide and bright. "A young squire trained me in secret."

Regina feinted, moving forward as if to strike but shuffled to the side at the last minute. She was trying to psych Kathryn out.

"I can't imagine Daddy approved of that." Regina teased.

Emma looked to the side. Jim chuckled and shook his head. "Not even a little."

Kathryn moved to block (was it called a parry?) but Regina never hit her.

"No more than your mother did, I'm sure."

Emma winced. That was a low-blow. Regina didn't react, but Emma knew that had stung.

Emma had no idea what was going on with Regina and Kathryn.

They fought again, for real this time. They were slashing and thrusting. Their swords smacked against each other over and over again. It was like Olympic fencing and Karate had a kick-ass love child. Emma saw why everyone had been so jazzed up about it now.

The clanging stopped. The swords locked together. The crossy-part of Kathryn's handle and the curvy part of Regina's handle pressed against each other. Everyone else probably knew the technical terms, but Emma didn't. Not that it mattered, anyone with eyes could see that the fight was getting serious. Both women were straining, struggling for the advantage.

"I thought" Kathryn huffed. "That we were friends. Not allies, but certainly not enemies!" Kathryn hissed now. "But you used me! You put me back with David. Jim was here, right here, and you paired me off with David to spite Snow White!"

Oh. Oh shit. Kathryn was pissed. She was bearing down, using her height advantage to hold Regina in place.

"Then you pretended to comfort me!"

Emma shifted from foot-to-foot. This was getting super personal.

Regina was beneath Kathryn, they were nose to nose. Close enough to kiss or kill. Regina wasn't backing down, but she wasn't gaining any ground or momentum either.

"Yes." Regina was short and to the point. "I did."

Then she twisted hard and slid her blade back up Kathryn's blade, breaking the hold. She pivoted around like a ballerina in a pair of designer canvas flats.

The sudden movement didn't phase Kathryn at all. She didn't stumble or fall. She slashed fast and hard as Regina pivoted. Regina had to keep moving, backward and fast, to avoid the swinging steel.

This was quickly moving from Disney to Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon territory. Emma chewed on the inside of her cheek. She didn't like it.

Kathryn drove Regina back. Only Regina's twists, turns, and dodges kept her safe.

"I defended you!" Kathryn was spitting out every word as fast and furious as her swings.

"Don't let her route you. Majesty, fight!" Jill was shouting and when Jim opened his mouth, she jokingly elbowed him out of the way. "Use your speed for attack! Get off the defensive!"

Her brother didn't shout anything, but he had his hands up in the air, fingers waving in silent applause.

The bets were going up and fast. Kathryn was now the favorite.

Regina twisted around again and swung her sword in a tight, fast circle to buy herself some space. She tossed her hair again and squared her feet. It was a wider and more grounded stance. It was the way Emma would hold herself in a fight. She didn't know if it would help Regina here, but she was glad that she knew how to defend herself. Regina didn't keep her not-sword hand behind her like Kathryn did. It was at her side, poised almost like she was getting ready to throw a fireball or something. Emma didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing.

They clashed again. Their swords flashed in the sun, fast and bright. It was sometimes hard to follow the movements. Regina's slashes or strikes or whatever were on-target. Kathryn met them every time, just as fast and accurate. Regina rallied and struck out again, hard. Kathryn spun and folded her arm, and the sword in it, behind her back. Regina stepped forward to follow through on her strike. Kathryn's spin sent the blade right into her side. The flat side of the blade smacked into Regina's torso with a loud thwack!

"Mom!"

Finally! The Kid realized this was serious.

"Don't worry. Henry." Jim calmed him. "Both swords are blunt. They don't cut."

Oh well, that was great! Bruises must not have existed in Fairytale World.

"Point for Smithson!" The referee yelled out and about half of the crowd cheered. Another guy from the cannery put a little stick with a yellow flag on a wooden rack. It was, Emma realized, a ye olde scoreboard.

"Impressive." Regina complimented Kathryn as they broke apart.

Kathryn ran her left hand over her hair to put it back into place. Her cheeks were red, and she was frowning. "That's all you have to say to me?" She held her sword up, ready to go again.

Regina didn't wait, circle or even answer Kathryn. She went on the attack.

She went faster, harder and used her legs to add power to her attacks. Her swings seemed streamlined and her steps smoother.

Emma blinked. Had Regina been holding back before?

"Damn Baby." Emma felt her heart skip a beat. This was dangerous, but it was very hot.

"Mom is so cool!"

Henry was watching this as intensely as he had the movies. It looked like Regina had become his new favorite superhero. Emma should be jealous, but how could she? Regina was her favorite superhero too.

Regina ducked and twirled around again. It was quick, clean and ended with a sharp thwack of metal smacking skin. If her sword had been sharp, she would have cut Kathryn's hand off at the wrist.

She, Henry, and the other half of the crowd applauded and shouted their approval.

"Point Mills!"

The flag guy looked down at the box of colored flags.

"Green!" Emma shouted at him. She knew that Regina would want green, not the black in the guy's hand. He put the flag on the stick and then on the scoreboard. Kathryn and Regina were all tied up.

"Good job, Regina!" Emma clapped hard and hoped she could hear her.

Regina and Kathryn broke apart and retreated to opposite edges of the ring. They circled each other again. Kathryn was re-evaluating Regina. She had underestimated her and knew better now.

"I don't regret casting the curse, Kathryn. I can't."

Kathryn slashed at her, wide and a little wild. It was more out of outrage than strategy. "And what came next? The manipulation, the lies, David Nolan! You played me. I was your pawn!"

Regina rushed forward, into Kathryn's attack. "Never! You were never my pawn!" Regina weaved around wild swings. Then with one thrust, their swords locked together again. This time, Regina was the aggressor, pressing down on Kathryn. "You are far too valuable to me to be a simple pawn. You were-are my Bishop."

Wait. Were they talking about fucking chess?

Kathryn rallied and pushed Regina's sword back and then to the side. "A bishop?" She backed off to give Regina some space to get her sword back up.

"Am I still on your board, Regina?"

Regina smirked, "Isn't everyone?"

Emma was more confused now than ever, which was saying something.

Regina circled again, measuring Kathryn up. "I'm on your board too, I assume."

Kathryn thrust her sword forward, more for show than an actual attack. "Only a Rook."

Regina made her own counter-attack. It was weak, more like a formality than an actual offensive maneuver. "Why, Princess, you wound me."

Kathryn flipped the tip of her sword up a little. "Not yet."

Regina's brow cocked up, and it was game on again. She moved, her sword swished through the air faster than Emma's eye. Regina ducked and twisted, her movements were a graceful and deadly dance. Kathryn was a good dance partner, smart and sneaky. She followed Regina's every twist and turn. She kept up with Regina until another thwack sounded off. Kathryn stumbled back, shock written on her face.

"Point Mills!"

Kathryn shook her head, confused and annoyed. Emma grinned when she saw why. During her fancy-dancy moves, Regina had switched her sword from her right to her left hand.

Another green flag went up. One more point and Regina won.

Both women retreated to the edge of the ring. Henry gave his Mom a big thumbs up. Regina's answering smile was radiant.

Kathryn and Regina were circling each other again. They were sweaty, slower and more cautious.

Regina kept her sword in her left hand and seemed just as skilled. Did she fight with her left hand because of her right shoulder? Emma didn't know. It was yet another thing that worried her. Emma glanced at Jill and Merida Hill. Their faces betrayed nothing.

Kathryn was on the defensive, she kept her movements short and her sword close to her body. She looked savage; the fight wasn't over yet.

Regina went on the attack. She was pressing Kathryn back with slashes, thrusts, and twists. They locked swords again and Regina was pushing Kathryn back hard. She was, Emma realized, trying to make Kathryn's knee buckle. Emma was so focused on the swords that she didn't look down. She didn't notice their legs and feet. Neither did Regina, which was exactly what Kathryn wanted.

She'd slipped one of her feet behind Regina's and the other in front.

When Regina put a little too much pressure on the sword, she lost her footing. Kathryn tripped her. Not only that, she very sassily smacked Regina on the ass as she fell. Regina twisted and fell on her back. Dust poofed up from the hard-packed dirt of the circle. Kathryn capitalized on her fall, fast. She straddled Regina and pointed her sword at her throat.

"Truce?"

That was a very pointy truce.

Regina was just as fast and just as savage. Quick as a snake, she wrapped her legs around Kathryn's torso and chest. She rolled back onto her shoulders and used her weight and angle to reverse their positions. It was something out of MMA or the Kama Sutra. She knocked Kathryn's sword aside with her forearm. Then Regina pressed the flat side of her own sword against Kathryn's neck.

"Truce and a tie?"

Everyone, was silent, waiting. Everyone wanted to hear Kathryn's answer.

"I can live with that."

Regina grinned and stood up. She held out her hand and helped the other woman up. She went stiff, though, when Kathryn threw her arms around her in a hug. Regina's hands fluttered in the air for a moment, unsure of what to do. She eventually patted Kathryn awkwardly on the back.

Regina could throw magic like a boss. She could sword fight like a boss. She ran the town like a boss. She was Emma's boss. She was a queen. A queen, but a simple hug threw her off of her game.

The entire crowd was clapping, cheering and even catcalling a little. Kathryn grabbed Regina's hand and raised it up in victory. The crowd of people ate it up and cheered even louder. Kathryn smiled and Regina blushed.

Emma wished Regina realized how amazing she was. With enough support, friends and good days, she would. She could see it. Henry could see it. Kathryn could see it. A lot of the town could see it. Regina would too.

"Mom!" Henry grabbed her into a hug as soon as she was close enough. "You were awesome!" Regina wrapped her arms around him with no hesitation.

Regina looked over Henry's head and smiled at her. Emma's heart fluttered. Nothing could ruin this. She wouldn't let it. Emma would let nothing ruin her Happily Ever After in the making.

Killian Jones stared out at the ocean. If he unfocused his eyes a bit he could see the unearthly glow of the cursed border around Storybrooke. It was familiar, like the one he'd been stuck in for twenty-eight years. Cora's protection spell had been much smaller, more intimate.

He was perched on the railing where the quarter-deck overlooked the stern of his Jolly Roger. He'd hated the be-spelled prison he'd shared with Cora. He hated it here, in Storybrooke too. It was another bloody prison. He had spent interminable years in one prison or another. Hook hated prisons. Death had to be better than this. He was more than ready to find out. He took a long draw from his flask. More rum would burn away the misery and doubt that squirmed in his gut.

It was supposed to be easy. He was supposed to get his revenge and then sail off into the sunset wearing a new pair of crocodile skin boots. He was supposed to find a tropical island and drink himself into a sticky sweet death on the sand. He was supposed to join Milah within a fortnight.

Yet here he was, trapped in the most boring town he had ever had the misfortune of stepping foot in. The deal he'd stuck with The She-Devil was getting worse by the day. He tapped his hook on the railing to the rhythm of the phantom pains that plagued him. The water lapped against the ship's boards and the gulls cried out. Further out he could hear the fishermen and dock workers. He could smell brine and pine in the air. Another long pull of rum made the twinges of missing fingers hurt a little bit less. If he closed his eyes, he could still see Milah's face.

The peace, his quiet moment with Milah, was broken by a ragged scream.

He winced. He was a pirate, not a monster. Killian reminded himself of that one more time. He was many things, but not a monster.

Another scream split the air.

"Apologies, Love." He took another drink and the pain finally went numb. "You would have never allowed this."

Milah had loved adventures, mischief, and ale. She'd been a good quartermaster, had kept the ship as clean as a whistle. The men too. They'd been pirates, but they'd been the best behaved and cleanest scrubbed crew in all the realms. When she fought, she made either mere scratches or clean kills. She'd let no one suffer. She'd had a good heart, a precious and loving heart.

Milah would hate The Queen of Hearts.

He hated Cora. He took another drink. He hated himself too. It wasn't the first time or the last for that.

Another scream and another drink.

"I should go see what new horrors that witch has dreamed up."

He walked across his deck and wrinkled his nose. Cora's pets sat in a large crate to the port side, downwind, but they still reeked of filth and rotting flesh. Even the canvas sail he'd thrown over their cage hadn't helped. He hated those buggers more than he hated Cora, perhaps more than the Crocodile himself. The sooner they were off his, Milah's, ship, the better.

In for a penny, in for a pound. He had already sold his soul. There was no going back now. When you bedded down with a monster, you were never clean again. He wasn't a monster, though. If he kept telling himself that, it would be true.

The Jolly Roger's hold had been home to riches, supplies, and men. Now it was Cora's domain. She'd used her magic and made her own little world. Gone were bare timbers, crates, chests, and canvas hammocks. The room was too big for the space it took up. It was luxurious, fit for a queen. It looked like it belonged in a palace, not a ship.

Red silks hung over and between tall white pillars. The portholes that let in light and a glimpse of the sea were gone. In their place was a huge mural of mirrors. Scores, nay, hundreds of mirrors covered the wall. There were all shapes, all sizes, melded together. The dark cracks and splinters made it ominous and dark instead of bright and beautiful. Cora used the mirrors to watch her daughter, obsessively.

Cora sat on an overstuffed couch, comfier than a throne, he imagined. She wasn't watching the mirrors. She seemed lost in thought. She twisted a single finger in the air and sighed.

"I've tried being nice. I thought you would be happy to see me, Old Friend."

She spun her finger faster and there was another scream. It was even worse up close. Hook winced, grit his teeth, but didn't allow himself to look away. Not a monster. Not a coward either.

"Come now, Dear. If you'd just answer my question." She sounded wistful, or even sad. She wasn't. Cora was enjoying herself. Whatever melancholia she'd suffered washed away in a sea of blood.

She wore one of her elaborate gowns. It was the color of blood and had enough shiny baubles and silver embroidery sewn into it to make a jeweler weep. It clung to her like the bodice was painted on. The sleeves were non-existent, and the skirt poofed out wide. She looked like the Queen of Wonderland, she even had diamonds and rubies in her hair. It looked lovely enough, and the color would hide bloodstains.

There was so much blood, all from one man. He hung from chains, limp and pale. His dark matted hair over his face. He wasn't long for this world, but at least he'd stopped screaming.

"Oh, Jefferson." She stood up, and brushed the invisible creases out of her dress. She smirked and walked across the room to her prisoner. She pulled his face up by the chin. She slid a crimson nail across the jagged pink scar around his neck. "I've missed you." Her voice was ice cold and devoid of anything resembling humanity. "But you don't seem happy to see me." She pouted, faker than a bar wench's affections.

"Maybe you'll like me more if I look like-"

Cora disappeared in a swirl of dark blue smoke. When she reappeared she had completely changed. She was younger, taller, and blonde. She had sun-kissed skin, a cute button nose, and wide cornflower blue eyes. That blonde hair was in two complicated plaits. Her clothes were lighter, simpler, like a traveler or an adventurer.

"-this. Do you miss me, Jeff?"

Even Cora's voice changed. It was lighter, sweeter and had an accent closer to his own than Cora's.

The man, Jefferson, shuddered in his chains. His makeup had smeared around his eyes and streaked down his cheeks. He coughed, winced and squeezed his black-painted eyes shut. He shook his head violently. "Alice. My Alice." More head shaking. "No. No." He was pulling away. "Not Alice. Not my Alice."

Hook wasn't sure if Jefferson had been mad before, he was being driven that way now.

"Answer the questions, Jefferson. If you do, then she won't hurt me. She won't hurt me and she won't hurt."

Cora's faux blue eyes misted over with tears.

"She won't hurt our little girl."

He stopped shaking and mumbling. His head snapped up and his eyes were wide. "Grace."

"Yes." The Alice-Cora coo'ed in her syrupy-sweet voice. "Our Grace."

Jefferson thrashed and fought. He tried to lunge, to jump, to attack.

"Not Grace! Not Alice! Never Grace!"

Cora, still wearing another woman's face, pressed a kiss to Jefferson's cheek. When he screamed and pulled away, Cora laughed.

Killian turned away, sick to his stomach. He could not imagine a worse fate. He would rather die than suffer this torture. He didn't want to imagine Cora defiling his Milah's face, body, and voice. It was the worst sort of Hell. It made the rum he'd drunk rise back up in his gullet.

"Going somewhere, Captain?"

Cora had followed him back out to the ship's deck. She was wearing her own face again. That, somehow, didn't make it any better.

He ran his hand over his face. "I didn't want to crowd you, Luv."

She scowled, frown lines marred her face, showed her age. "I thought you were a professional. A weak will is of no use to me."

Cora didn't keep useless things around. Her meaning was crystal clear.

"I'm as professional as they come. I got tired of his mad blubbering." He walked across the deck. His boots thudded against the timbers as he went. "Real men don't cry."

Cora appeared in front of him, smoke and all. She was so close he could feel her breath on his face. "So you will uphold your end of our deal?"

She danced her fingers up his chest and rested her palm over his heart.

"Aye." He had sold his soul to a monster and now he could not tell her no.

She tapped her hand on his chest. "Good."

Cora smiled and patted his cheek affectionately. It was the same thing she had done to Jefferson. Only Hook's chains were invisible, and he had put them on himself.

None of this was good. He was a pirate caught up in a pissing match between monsters. If he said no now, she would kill him. Then who would avenge Milah? Her death had to be avenged. Otherwise, his life, his long and bitter life, meant nothing. Her death would mean nothing. She would mean nothing. Then he would be a monster.