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Chapter Text

Try as he might, Henry couldn't stop his foot from tapping as the music blared throughout the kitchen. It was a typical occurrence in the Swan-Mills household whenever Emma was in charge of making dinner. She'd blast her favourite 80s tune and strut around the kitchen like she was Gene Simmons himself. Tonight's act, however, was the raspy tunes of AC/DC. He rolled his eyes as she screeched into the spatula like a makeshift microphone, shaking her hips in tune with the music just before she tossed the veggies in the skillet. AC/DC played from the dock on the counter, and he was grateful that he didn't have any friends over tonight. His Ma would embarrass him to the end of his days.

"You! Shook me all night long!"

Henry laughed out loud, causing his mother to turn and raise a questioning eyebrow."

"What?"

"Don't quit your day job, dear." His other mother walked into the kitchen, her arms barely holding up a box full of old books. Regina set the box onto the island and moved around it to kiss Henry on top of his head. "Hello, love."

"You love my singing," Emma argued, pointing accusingly with the oily spatula.

Regina simply smirked and made her way over to her wife, hands resting on Emma's hips. "Well aren't you the best damn woman that I ever seen."

Emma murmured her agreement before slowly dipping her head towards her wife.

"You guys are gross!" Henry yelled, making a show of pretending to gag.

"Then close your eyes." He wasn't fast enough to heed Emma's warning before the blonde tugged Regina in by the waist and kissed her deeply. "How was your day?"

"Long," Regina sighed though she stayed in Emma's grasp. "Re-opening the library after that flood is taking longer than I anticipated."

Emma kissed her temple then playfully swatted her backside when Regina stepped out of her space and headed back to her box of books. Henry stood and was already moving to help her carry the box into her home office, and by the time the duo returned, Emma was plating their sautéed veggies and baked chicken onto three place settings.

The family sat around the island, Henry at the head with his moms sitting side by side on his right. For the first time in weeks they were all able to share a family dinner with one another. As Mayor, Regina had been so preoccupied with reopening the town's library after a broken pipe flooded the space. The initial clearance of that had Emma pulling doubles for days, making sure no one tried to vandalize the area while it was vulnerable and helping Town Hall to get whatever could be salvaged out and dry. Now that they had a firm date to re-open, Regina herself was helping the town's librarian catalogue and sort all the books that had been saved and donated in the wake of the chaos, but more often than not, Emma would have to drive down to Town Hall and force Regina home. The brunette had been good on at least coming home before bed, but now that they were at the finish line, she was bringing boxes and boxes of books home to sort. It was a compromise, at least, and one they could live with for another few days.

"How was your day, sweetie?" Regina asked looking up to Henry.

The boy flipped his bangs out of his eyes and sat up excitedly. "We're doing a project at school about our family history."

"A good ol' family tree?" Emma guessed.

Henry shook his head. "Not a tree. Ms. Blanchard wants us to be more creative with it."

"So a poster board."

Regina shushed Emma with a light smack on her shoulder.

"I'm gonna do a comic!" Henry happily proclaimed. He reached to the free chair beside him and dropped a lined notebook onto the table. He flipped open to a fresh page and pulled the pencil from the spiral binding. "So. What was it like before I was born?"

"Quiet," Emma smirked.

Both brunettes glared before Regina turned towards her son. "What exactly do you need to know?"

"What are your backgrounds? Did Abuelo and Abuela immigrate here?"

"I don't have much to tell, kid," Emma answered honestly. Regina moved to rub her back as Emma looked affectionately between the two. "My first family is the only family I'll ever need and that's you and your Mom."

Henry rolled his eyes as the two women stared lovingly at each other. Sure, it was great that his moms still loved each other, but they didn't have to be so gross about it. A part of him was fearful to venture any further. Next thing he'd know he'd have to plug his ears at night. Whatever that meant. "Well, how did you two meet?"

"College," they both answered in tangent, though Regina was the one to continue. "I was doing political science, and your mother was in criminal psychology."

"Was it a love at first sight thing?"

Regina snorted. "Hardly. Your mother threw a football at my head."

"I didn't throw it at your head," the blonde argued, "I threw it to a friend who sucks at catching and it hit your head."

Henry barked out a laugh as his brunette mother fixed his blonde one with a steely-eyed glare.

"I love you?" Emma hoped, scrunching her face up and leaning in close.

Regina shook her head and turned back to Henry. "After your mother attacked me, she offered to buy me a coffee, and we began to see each other more frequently."

"She couldn't resist this." Emma motioned to her body with a proud wink. Both Regina and Henry groaned.

"So you've been together since college?" Henry asked.

Regina tilted her head from side to side. "More or less."

He scrunched up his face in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Before either women could clarify, a loud grumbling sounded from Emma's stomach and the blonde winced as she looked to her family imploringly. "Come on, kid, I am starving. Can we play Encyclopedia Brown after dinner?"

Picking up her fork, Regina shared a secret smile with Henry. "The stomach has spoken."

"Bow down before its might," he added.

"Ha ha," Emma snarked, forking a sautéed pepper into her mouth. "Your food will be history if you don't get to eating, kid."

"So what do you mean, more or less?" Henry questioned Regina later that night as he sat up in bed. His hair was brushed and his teeth clean, and all he needed now was to go to sleep. Despite his stifled yawn, Regina could tell his ever curious son wouldn't sleep until his questions were answered. She sat on his bed, urging him to lie down and tucked the sheets under him.

She stroked his hair back for a minute before answering. "Your mother had dreams of becoming Boston's Chief of Police. By the time we graduated, she had a position ready for her on the force."

"Why did you move back to Maine?"

"Mother needed help taking care of Abuelo," she answered. "I was starting my own career, and your mother was pursuing hers."

Henry scrunched up his face confused. Regina had to laugh. Despite being adopted, he had picked up on the little facial ticks both women were prone to doing, and he looked like Emma just then, DNA be damned. "You could have still been together."

Regina nodded with a sad smile. "Sometimes you have to do hard things for the people you love, even if you look like the bad guy. I'm sure you're not always happy with me whenever I have to ground you."

He nodded his understanding. "But you got together."

"We did." Both brunettes looked up to see Emma leaning against the door jamb with a knowing grin on her face. "I came knocking on her door a year later and we haven't been apart since. Nothing can keep your mom and me apart."

Henry smiled this time, letting the too sappy moment to sink in just this once before Emma came into the room and sat on the bed beside her wife. Regina started to hum, her rhythmic stroking on Henry's head lulling the boy into sleep as the song she always used to sing for him as a baby hung softly in the air. Within minutes, the boy was knocked out, and the two women grinned at each other as they stood.

"We did good with that one," Emma whispered, leading them out of his room and back downstairs.

"That we did." As they reached the main hall, Regina was already heading towards her office.

"You're still working?"

The brunette nodded before gently pushing Emma towards the living room. "Go catch your show."

They split up, and when Regina entered her office and saw the pile of boxes she still had to go through, she sighed heavily. It was going to be a long night. Tying her hair up, she got to work. She began by taking out the stack of books she had brought home with her. It was a mixture of history books, though they had to be categorized by period, and Belle had given her detailed instructions on how to assign them to their proper Dewey decimal system place. Regina used to think the librarian's job an easy one, but she'd gladly listen to civilian complaints all day long if it meant she didn't have to code another book. Sighing, she examined a dusty and rather smelly book, seeing its contents about the 16th century. She made a note in her laptop and set it aside before picking up the next one. The next half hour was spent doing just that, though she looked at the three other boxes she had yet to finish and mentally groaned. Next time, the library was getting eBooks.

Two strong arms wrapped around her waist, and she didn't think to flinch when a set of lips came to caress at the back of her neck.

"Hi, love," Regina whispered, letting her weight fall back in Emma's strong arms.

The blonde removed the book from her hand and hugged her close. "Come to bed."

"I have to work," Regina whined, though with Emma trailing her lips up and down her neck, she was near ready to throw in the towel.

"You've been working so late every night," Emma enticed, lightly tugging on the blouse tucked into her pants. "I can help you relax."

The moan she released couldn't be helped, so she turned swiftly and caught Emma's lips in a deep kiss. It took much force to pull away, but when she did, both their eyes were hooded and the air between them was heated. "Just let me sort one box, and I'll be up."

Emma nodded and gave another chaste kiss. "Do you need help?"

Regina shook her head. "Go upstairs, I won't be long."

With a wink, the blonde departed, and Regina turned back towards the box, desperately trying to get her concentration in check. With Emma in that sort of mood, she would be lucky if she didn't follow her wife out now, but the looming pile of boxes waited to be sorted through was just as effective as a cold shower. If she finished quickly, then she could meet Emma upstairs sooner rather than later.

She attacked the box with new gusto, and an hour later, she was reaching for the last book in the box. It was a strange one, different from the preserved and plain hardcovers of all the other books before it. Small, leather-bound, with symbols etched into its skin, Regina thought this book was an antique. It must have been donated by someone. Probably the old pawn keeper who had an unhealthy obsession with the librarian. Shrugging, she flipped open to a random page, and her eyes widened in surprise. The book wasn't even in English, and the language it was in was foreign to her. Purple symbols, akin to hieroglyphics, stared up at her, and she pulled the book up to her face for a closer inspection. She didn't realize the deep inhale of breathe she had taken just then would lift the words off the page and filter deep into her body. She didn't have time to. Her head started to spin, and the room began to blur. The last thing she remembered before her vision blacked out was Henry calling her name and trying to catch her fall.

His head was spinning. The last time Henry felt this bad, he had crashed his skateboard into the middle of the street and knocked his head on the concrete something fierce. That had involved a broken wrist, but this pain, it was more throbbing than anything, like a headache that wouldn't go away. Slowly, his eyes drifted open, but he shut them immediately when he was met with the jarring rays of the sun. Shifting in his spot, he noticed that he was most definitely not in his bed anymore. He wasn't even in his house. The ground below him was rough, and as he moved, he could hear twigs snap and leaves rustle under his weight. Cautiously he opened his eyes again, more expectant this time.

The sun beamed down on him, shining brightly in a cloudless blue sky, but all around him were trees. He was in a forest. Storybrooke's forest was a long way from his place on Mifflin, but the air tasted different, cleaner, nothing like the salty air back home. Slowly, he sat up and wiped the dirt off his hands. There was another shock. What happened to his clothes? He remembered pulling on his pyjamas before going to bed, but now he was in...a tunic? He felt like something out of a renaissance fair with the loose beige shirt under a leather vest. He moved to his feet and stared at his leather breeches and boots. This had to be a dream.

The forest was empty as he looked around its woods, but just off in the distance down the hill, he could make out a cleared path. Maybe he could get home and—his heart stop beating for a minute. Where was Mom?! His feet moved on their own accord as he raced to the path, keeping an eye out for any sign of his brunette mother. His footing faltered for just a moment when he realized he had no idea where his Ma was either. She'd know what to do. Running faster, he made it to the path, out of breath and panting. He looked up and down the road, and all he could see were gravel and trees and dirt.

His heart beat rapidly in his chest. His mothers always warned him to stay close, to hold their hand so he didn't get lost. Here he was, lost, in the woods of all places, and already Henry could feel tears burn his eyes. He wanted to go home. A part of him just wanted to stay where he was, hoping desperately that his mothers would find him, but something inside him told him that he had to move forward.

He ended up choosing turning right, heading up the path hoping to find some sort of civilization. Maybe this was just some really intense cosplay event and he'd find event planners on his way, but as the sun rose high in the sky then slowly began to make its descent, he hadn't encountered another person yet.

His feet were starting to hurt, and he was pretty sure he was getting a sunburn. His Mom was going to kill him if he didn't put sunblock on. The sudden thought that nightfall was going to happen eventually made him pick up his pace. What if there were wolves in the forest? Or worse.

For the first time in hours, his thoughts were interrupted by something more than his rumbling stomach. Up ahead, a dust cloud had formed and he could make out the tops of heads. His eyes nearly bugged out his eyes. Those were horses. Not only that, but they were knights on horses! Moving to the side, he jumped up and down frantically, waving his arms to get their attention. Despite the blistering heat, the knights were clad from head to toe in metallic black armour, a red feather shooting out from their helm.

"Hey!" Henry called out. "Hey, stop! I need help."

Their gallop came to a trot, and the group of four riders slowed in front of the boy. Henry ran up to the lead rider with a look of relief on his face. "Please, you have to help me."

"What do we have here?" The lead rider lifted his helm, and Henry was so relieved to see a familiar face.

"Deputy Jones!" He ran up to the man, but his black steed neighed and reared up on its hind legs. Henry screamed and fell backwards in fright, his hands scraping against dirt road.

Henry scurried backwards as the man that looked just like his Mom's deputy slid off the horse and took determined steps toward him. Deputy Jones had always been really nice to him. Killian let him play his guitar whenever the deputy had a gig after his shift, and he always kept a pack of gum for Henry to take whenever he hung out at the Sheriff's station after school. But this man—he was not Killian Jones. His eyes were dark and his presence was looming over his like a tower.

"Where are the others, boy?" Killian's gruff accented voice asked. He motioned to the other three riders. "Look to the trees. They could be hiding."

"Others?" Henry squeaked.

"We know your ruse, lad." Darting forward, Killian reached out and grabbed Henry by the front of his leather vest, lifting him off the ground. He whimpered as he held onto the man's fist tightly.

"I-I don't have a ruse."

"What is it this time? You haven't eaten for weeks and you're simply looking for food?" Killian wondered. "Or your injured Mum is just further into the woods and she needs our help to get her to a healer?"

"I-I don't know where my moms are," Henry admitted. "Please, Dep-Mister. I just want to go home."

Killian and his men laughed. "Lost in the woods? We haven't had that one in a while, haven't we, boys?"

They nodded their agreement, as Killian turned a deadly snare upon the boy. "The Queen will make an example of you yet." He pulled his hand back, and Henry recoiled back desperately trying to cover his face from the impact.

He prepared himself for the hit, but instead he felt the hard earth beneath him and the groan of the man who had held him captive. Killian was screaming out, gripping his bare hand that now had a small dagger embedded through the palm, blood pouring down his wrist.

"It's the Saviour!" Killian roared. "Get him!"

As the knights scrambled in all directions to find the source of the dagger, Henry leapt to his feet and began running. He got three steps away before Killian grabbed him by the back of the collar with his good hand.

"Not so fast," he growled.

Emma had always taught Henry to yell out whenever he needed help or was in trouble. Scream as loud as he could and she'd find him anywhere. But this time, he was too scared to scream. His voice wouldn't form words, and all he wanted was his moms. The hand released him, and he clattered to the ground once more. Instinct took over as he didn't bother to look at the reason why Killian had let him go, and his focus was on just getting away.

But a cloaked figure leaped over him, and the unfamiliar sound of metal against metal clanged right behind him, and Henry couldn't help but to take a peak. His eyes bugged out of his head. They were actually sword fighting. The cloaked figure was duelling with Killian, and as soon as the rest of the knights heard the clash of weaponry, they came to their leader's defense.

One was about to take a swipe out of his saviour's back. "Watch out!" Henry called.

But the figure in the shimmery white cloak already saw it coming and evaded the attack, kicking that guard over with a boot to the chest. Henry had no idea how this guy could see with the hood over their head, but he had seen stranger things being in this place. Knocking Killian and another guard over, the figure gazed at Henry. The boy only knew that from the hairs prickling at the back of his neck, and soon, the stranger was running towards him, cape billowing behind them.

"Run," was the only thing they said as they pushed Henry towards the woods.

He hesitated, debating whether going with this stranger was just as a death sentence as waving the knights down, but then an arrow struck the dirt just over his head, and his mind was made up. He ran with the Saviour at his back like their cloak was a shield, but then he heard a grunt, high and feminine, and before he could think to turn back, their insistent "go" was enough to push forward. He ran and ran until his lungs burned and his legs felt like jelly. Leaping over rocks and ducking under branches, Henry didn't stop until a hand had gripped his shoulder. He flinched and tried to fight back, but he fell in his fear, staring up at the person who had saved his life.

His heavy panting was the only thing in the quiet forest. The Saviour loomed over him, still cloaked and looking down on him with intensity. If he wanted to kill Henry then, he would have done it already.

"You're hurt." Henry's gaze zeroed in on the red staining the shimmery white robe at the person's shoulder.

The Saviour looked down at their arm and shrugged before removing their hood.

His heart stopped.

"Ma!" Henry leaped to his feet and wrapped his arms around his blonde mother. He knew she would find him. He knew it. "Ma, you're here!"

"Easy, kid." Emma shimmied out of his grasp, and even though she didn't push him away, he stepped back hurt. "I'm not your mother."

"What?" Tears welled up in his eyes again. First Deputy Jones and now his Ma. He couldn't deal. "N-no. No you are. Emma, you're my mom. It's me, Henry."

The blonde froze. "How do you know my name?"

"I just said!" He stood up angrily. "You're my mom!"

"Quiet, kid!" Emma hissed, darting forward and bringing a hand up to cover Henry's mouth. "The Queen's Guards are still on our trail."

She didn't release her hold on his mouth until he nodded, and as soon as she let him go, he wrapped his arms around her neck once more. "I want to go home."

Emma sighed this time and let him hold onto her, but when he started to sniffle, she gently released his grip from her neck.

"Please," Henry begged. "You have to help me find Mom."

"See, kid?" Emma said as she straightened. "You've already got a mom."

He rolled his eyes, more frustrated now than he was sad. "My other mom. You're married. I have two."

She had stepped past him and paused, turning to stare at him with a questioning smirk on her face. "Married? I'm definitely not your mom."

"You do, you love her, and the last thing I remember was her passing out in her office, and then I woke up and she was gone and I'm here."

"Didn't your parents ever tell you not to eat the blue mushrooms?"

"Ma!"

Emma continued on forward, shrugging off her cloak and draping it over the nape of her arm. Underneath, she spotted something similar to what he was wearing but instead of brown leathers, hers were blue. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and the spot on her arm where the arrow grazed was staining the white tunic shirt bright red. She didn't look back at him as she spoke. "If I was married, and deeply in love like you say, don't you think I'd remember the beautiful woman who captivated my heart?"

"I don't know why I'm the only one who remembers, but I do, and I need to find you and Mom and get back home."

"What are you doing out in the woods, anyway?"

"I told you," he said through gritted teeth. "I woke up here."

She sighed and made her way between two gnarled trees with a giant boulder in the middle of it. With much effort, she pushed aside the rock to reveal a man-made fox hole before looking to Henry expectantly. "Get in and I'll take you to your village."

"I don't know where that is."

"Then you better remember quickly." With that she jumped into the fox hole, and Henry was left standing alone.

His mom didn't recognize him. And she was living in a hole in the ground. He still had no idea where his other mother was, and the one he already did find looked at him like he was a pain. Something was up, and he was determined to find out.

Henry slid into the fox hole where Emma stood waiting. As soon as his bottom hit the floor with his graceless entrance, she pinned up a net of leaves over the hole and turned to the room. It was bigger than Henry anticipated. Not huge like his home back in Storybrooke, but there were a few blankets spread out in the corner, a tiny table in the centre of the room, and all along the walls were weapons. He gulped when his Ma moved to the table and lit a gas light, illuminating the whole hovel. With the new light, he could see hand-made spears, a collection of swords, and a handful of daggers.

"No bow and arrow?" Henry teased though really he was hoping his Ma wasn't a psychotic murderer in this land like Deputy Jones was.

Emma froze with her hand on the sleeve of her wounded arm. "Not my weapon," she mumbled.

Ripping the arm off her sleeve, Henry winced when he saw the deep gash on his mother's arm. Emma hissed as she moved to a small pot in the corner. She filled a small cup with water and used her ripped sleeve to soak it up like a sponge. She held the cloth up to her wound and tensed.

"You need a doctor," Henry said as he walked closer to her.

"The only one I trust is in the Eastern Kingdom, and I can't go back there."

"Why?" He didn't need an answer when he looked up around the hovel, and on the wall by the entrance was a wanted sign, aged and worn and full of pierced holes as if someone had thrown daggers at it, with none other this mom's picture on it. "What did you do?"

"It's what I wouldn't do," she grumbled. She moved the wet cloth and tore at the other sleeve, using the dry one as a wrap. Her teeth held on to the end of the wrap as she tied it around her wound. When Henry moved to help her, she growled and shifted away before she knotted off the end and tucked the strands under the wrapping.

"What about other doctors?"

"They won't help me."

"Maybe the Queen can help," Henry offered and was already heading back towards the entrance. Emma leaped and grabbed the back of his shirt.

"No way, kid. She's the last person who'd help."

Henry scrunched up his face in thought. "Why?"

"You can't just go to the Queen and ask favours," Emma answered.

"But she's the Queen, she's supposed to help people."

"Well," Emma sighed and released his shirt. "She won't help me."

He watched as Emma's shoulders fell and her eyes darkened with knowledge that he was itching to learn. "It was her, wasn't it? You wouldn't do something for her."

"It was a couple of years ago." Emma shook her head and returned to the table, kicking off her boots and resting her sore feet on the edge. Slowly she started to massage her calf. "Trust me when I say me and Regina didn't leave off on the best of terms."

His jaw slackened. "Regina? You mean the Queen."

"Seriously, kid? Where are you from?"

He ignored her question as he stepped forward. "The Queen is Regina?"

"I just said that." She scrunched up her face in the same way Henry had when he had been aggravated.

"She's my mom!"

She stilled her movements, and her face paled. "She's your mom?"

"And so are you."

She ignored his repetitive claim. "Regina is your mom."

He huffed and shrugged out his hands, not wanting to clarify one more time.

"Regina—" Emma stuttered before she swung her feet to the ground and eyed him carefully. "How old are you?"

"Ten," he said with a lift to his undefined jaw.

"That's impossible," Emma deadpanned as she stood, defensive and angry. "I was with her for—since she was still a princess. Where the hell did she hide you?"

He groaned, rubbing his hands down his face and marring his cheeks with dirt. "I already told you, I'm—"

Emma didn't let him finish. Instead, she rushed to remove her leathers and don a fresh tunic before putting her vest back on and stuffing her feet into her boots. "Listen, kid, I don't know who you are, but you gotta go back to whatever fantasy world you come from."

"Fantasy world?" Henry hissed with a stomp of his foot. "Do you see where you live?"

"This is the real world, Henry." She strapped a sword to her waist and two daggers into either boot. "I don't know how hard Killian must have dropped you, but you can't be running into the Eastern Kingdom yelling that Regina is your mom, okay? You'll get both of you killed. Whoever put you up to this didn't pay you enough."

"What are you—You have to come with me and we can—" Henry didn't get the chance to finish his sentence when Emma lifted him up onto her shoulder and headed for the entrance. He shrieked out in surprise. "Ma!"

"I'll take you to an inn in the White Kingdom, and if we're lucky, your mommy and daddy or fairy godmother will find you." She pulled back the protective leaf curtain and dropped Henry unceremoniously onto the levelled ground. "In the meantime, call me Emma, kid."

Regina was seeing red as she paced her chambers, taking in the latest disastrous encounter her guards had filled her in for. All they were tasked with was simply to facilitate the journey of White Farmers bringing crops to the Eastern Kingdom. Of course they had been met with an ambush upon their return. With a child and the Saviour, no less. Usually Snow's supporters had a more elaborate plan than a boy lost in the woods. They'd saw a tree down to block the path or pretend their cart's wheel needed some fixing, but the boy, that one was new.

"The child seemed alone at first, Your Majesty," Killian argued, nursing his wrapped hand. "He seemed to have intimate knowledge of our force. He called me by my name."

"I'm sure half the maidens had the pleasure of learning your name," Regina drawled. When Killian smirked, she added, "when they were telling their husbands just whom was harassing them that night."

He glowered as his eyes cast downward to the slab flooring. When he looked up again, he asked, "How were we to know he was working with the Saviour?"

"Forget the child, why are you so incompetent that you cannot bring me a cloaked ghost every time you see them?" Regina snapped.

"He took us—"

"By surprise?" Regina guessed. "Why am I not shocked? Over and over they slip from your grasp. When I announced you Captain of the Guard two years ago, I was hoping you were capable of following orders."

Killian stepped forward. "We'll do better next time."

Regina turned with a wave of her hand, and Killian no longer cared about his bloody palm. He choked as he struggled to free the invisible hold against his neck. She waited a little, lips twitching with every garbled sound from the Captain before she granted mercy on him. He fell to the floor in heap just as he got blue to the face.

"Yes, you will," she stated, sauntering over to his crumpled body.

He coughed harshly against her floor, struggling to meet her darkened gaze with his watery steel blue eyes.

"And Captain?" With another wave of her hand, his bandaged palm was gone leaving nothing but a stub. He yelped, clutching the wrist of his missing limb before a puff of purple smoke surrounded it once more, and his hand was replaced with nothing other than a hook. "Next time, make sure you don't miss."

She dismissed him, flinging her doors open and whipping him out of her chambers as the wood slammed close in his wake. She thought she'd be able to take her anger out on Killian, but her blood still boiled. It had been three years since Snow, precious young Queen of the White Kingdom, had broken their treaty. The insipid little girl who was barely a woman thought she could cripple Regina, stop supplying them with fertile crops and she could take the Eastern Kingdom by storm. Oh what a grave mistake that turned out to be.

After Regina stabilized her land from near starvation, she took the White Kingdom by force, since then, earning the title of the Evil Queen. She scoffed at the name. Made up by the resistance of the White Kingdom who stirred their followers into believing what she had done was monstrous. Her people praised her for fighting back, retaliating in the war started upon them, but there were still supporters among Snow's land who thought her brutal, maniacal, evil. Perhaps their not-so-innocent Queen should have thought about the consequences of her actions before starting a war she couldn't finish. She forced the White Kingdom to swear fealty to her, lest they want to meet the same fate as their Queen, brandished as a traitor. Nearly all of them had fallen in line, but there were still a handful of rebellions afoot, plotting Regina's demise. If she could crush Snow's heart in front of all the masses then these stupid little attacks on the side of the road and pathetic little raids of her kingdom's shops could be put to an end. Snuff out the light and the rest will fall in line. She had been close once to officially put an end between the tensions of the two kingdoms, but the young queen had escaped and Regina had lost her former Captain from it.

Regina was certain that this Saviour lurking in the woods was Snow in hiding. Her men could only comprehend being bested by another man, but she knew the grace of a woman, lithe and careful movements but backed by a quiet power. Her guards were strong yes, and the only one who could help had betrayed her long ago. Perhaps now, though, they'd have a change of heart.

She whipped away from her balcony and marched over to her vanity, immediately met by the shimmering face of the Genie.

"Your Majesty," he greeted with a dutiful nod. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Her eyes darkened as both hands clasped the edge of the mirror. "You know what I want."

His lips twitched into a smirk. "I'll find you Emma."

Chapter Text

The river flowed gently in the middle of the woods where Henry and his mother stopped for a break. Well, she looked like his mother and acted like his mother, but this Emma didn't remember a thing about him. The whole walk since leaving her foxhole, Henry kept trying to pinch himself, hoping this was just some wild and intense dream. All that did was make his skin turn red, and he was pretty sure it was starting to bruise. The walk didn't help his blistering feet either, so by the time Emma found the river and called for a break, he was thankful to sit on a fallen log by the water and just think.

What was he supposed to do?

Think outside the box, kid. That's what Emma always used to say to him. Regina used to tell him to take his time and think out the problem. Well, he wasn't sure if he was being timed or not, but he knew he didn't want to take the chance of permanently staying in this medieval world because he dilly-dallied. The only thing he could think of before waking up in a forest was needing to go downstairs to get a glass of water. On his way to the kitchen, he had passed his mom in her office, and she was reading some weird book. He squinted in thought. There was smoke around her, like someone had just sprayed perfume, and then his mom was falling and all he wanted to do was catch her.

That was it. That was all the info he had. His Ma was the sheriff and all he was able to pick up was that his Mom had fainted. This was useless.

"Drink?"

Henry looked up to see Emma offering him an animal skin canteen. Her pants were wet to the calf and the canteen was dripping with water. He thought she just wanted to wash off in the river, not guzzle it down. His face wrinkled in disgust as he looked from the canteen to the river, moss and branches floating in its waves. "You got that from there?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's water, Henry. Do you want it or do you want to dehydrate?"

"You shouldn't drink unfiltered water."

"Unfiltered?" She squinted. "I'm sorry, I left my boiling pot in my other pair of trousers."

Henry rolled his eyes this time. In any realm, his Ma would always be a stubborn sarcastic. "Yeah, well the last time you drank lake water, you got really sick."

She made a face and made a point to keep eye contact as she chugged the water. "See? I'm fine. I've been doing this for years, kid. I've never gotten sick."

"You got sick three years ago." She raised a curious eyebrow but Henry continued. "You, me, and Mom went camping out in Augusta for the weekend, and you wanted to look like you were such a wilderness expert. I can't even count how many times Mom had to remind you which berries you couldn't eat and that you almost walked into a bush of poison ivy."

"I know what poison ivy looks like."

"But you found a tiny little clear water stream in a meadow and you were so insistent it was freshwater. You kept saying it ran downhill or something so it must be good, and Mom kept saying 'Don't drink the water, you idiot.'"

Emma winced. "Your Regina sounds like mi—like the Queen."

"And you drank it," Henry deadpanned. "You wanted to prove you knew your stuff and you drank it, and you know what happened?"

"I was right and proved you both wrong?" She asked as she sat down beside him on the log.

"You got sick. Threw up all night and even on the new air mattress Mom specifically got because she didn't even want to go camping. She was so scared you ate a leech and it was eating your insides. We ended it early, and she took you to the doctor where they told us you swallowed some forest bacteria." He glared pointedly at her and the canteen. "So don't drink the river water, you dummy."

She mimicked his gaze and drained the last of the water in her mouth with a satisfying smack of her lips. "Do you always talk back to your moms?"

"Only when they need some sense smacked into them," he said with an innocent smirk.

Emma stood and refilled the canteen once more, draping the string across her shoulder when she was done before turning to Henry. Silently the boy understood and got up once more as he followed Emma away from the river and through the meadow. It was long minutes of silence, Henry desperately trying to think of a plan to go home, when Emma broke it with a thought on her lips. "Regina wouldn't be that scared."

"She was," he insisted.

"The Regina here would laugh at me and say I deserved it."

"You probably did."

"Thanks, kid."

Henry continued. "But if the Queen is anything like my Mom, she wouldn't rest until you were better."

Henry glanced up at her to see the hint of a smile on her face, but it was only there for a millisecond before it formed into a frown. His brow wrinkled in thought wondering not for the first what exactly happened between his mothers in this land. They obviously knew each other, and Emma seemed to know Regina a lot better than she tried to pretend, but they were mad at each other. And not together. His worst fear that his mothers would ever separate came to life in this land and he didn't like it one bit. But Emma's stiffened posture and her hardened jaw made him wonder...

She held back a set of branches for him to pass, and the. they were on the main road once more. In the distance he could see the top of a roof and the telltale sign of chimney smoke.

"This is the White Kingdom?" He asked, looking around. He didn't know where the Eastern Kingdom ended and the White one started.

"Technically it's all the Eastern Kingdom now, but you were walking along the border of the White Kingdom when Killian found you." She squinted at him. "You're really not from here."

"I told you—"

"Yeah, yeah," she held up a palm dismissively. Despite her brush off, she shifted from foot to foot as if trying to get her words in order. "So in your world, me and Regina, we're married."

He nodded.

She shifted the canteen strap more securely on her shoulder and fiddled with the handle of her sword in its sheath. "So, uh," she mumbled, desperately trying to keep her eyes forward but they kept catching his in curiosity. "How did we meet?"

He shrugged. "I didn't get the full story."

Her deflation was masked by annoyed skepticism. "You're not selling me on this, Henry."

"I asked you last night how you two met for a project," he explained. "It was in college in Boston."

"What?" She eyed him confused.

"Like, school in a, a big village." When she nodded her understanding, he continued. "But you guys broke up, and you stayed in your Boston village, and Mom moved back to her Kingdom in Maine."

She shifted uneasily. "Why?"

He shrugged again. "I don't know, but it didn't last long because you guys got back together and here we are."

She scoffed unconvinced. "That's pretty vague, kid."

"It was dinner time, and you were pretty hungry," he explained earning himself an understanding nod from the woman.

"So what?" She motioned to Henry. "We had you through magic?"

His eyes widened comically. "There's magic here?"

"What kind of world do you live in?" She eyed him as if she hadn't dropped a magical bomb on his head.

"What world do you live in?"

"Well, how else would Regina and I have a kid if Regina didn't do some magic mumbo jumbo and poof!" She waved her hand in the air then made a move at Henry as if summoning him into existence.

This time he stopped dead.

"Mom has magic?" He ran a hand through his hair frantically. "Maybe she can make a potion and send us all home!"

Emma rolled her eyes. She needed to tread lightly around this kid. "We'll talk when we get to the inn. So how did we get you without magic?"

Reluctantly he continued to walk with her as the inn grew larger with their approach. He watched as she dawned her cloak and pulled the hood over her head in one sweeping motion. Realizing he wasn't going to get much more than that, he continued. "I'm adopted. It's like, when someone leaves a baby in your barn and—"

"I know what adoption is," she bristled, her hood shaking in her annoyance.

He shrugged and continued walking, the inn within a few yards away. It was more lively than he anticipated with tables outside full of patrons. Some saw them, and as soon as they caught sight of Emma, or the Saviour, rather, they ducked their heads in reverence. A carriage with a donkey was saddled beside a water trough, and a lady was ferrying drinks and food between tables and inside the inn. It really was like a medieval fair, but it was all real. A part of him was giddy, seeing people in their medieval wear drinking from metal tins and eating with their hands. But as soon as Emma tugged him close he noticed the tension within her as they passed by the inn sign.

The Howling Moon was what it was called as the old rusty sign announced their entrance, but etched into the metal plate he could see an apple with an arrow through it. The name was strange but the symbol stranger. What did that have to do with howling and moons? Before they could venture further to the outdoor seating area, Emma tugged him aside and held him about the shoulders.

"Listen," she whispered, her voice low and serious. Even with the hood over her face, he knew her forehead was wrinkled and her lips set in a thin line, making sure he understood her next words. "I know you think Regina and I are your moms, but don't say anything about that here, okay? We're just gonna stay here for the night, and I'm gonna take you to a safer place tomorrow and find out what spell is on you."

"It's not a spell, Ma—" she threw him a warning look that even in this realm he had no choice but to obey. "Emma."

She waited another minute until he nodded his confirmation, and then she straightened leading him toward the tables and then inside. An older lady with a mop of grey hair atop her head and suspicious squinting eyes glared as they entered, but Emma simply held up a bag, the contents jingling inside.

Henry tilted his head in wonder. "Granny?"

"Who wants to know?" The older lady gruffed, wiping down the counter.

"My page," Emma said in a deep voice before she tossed the bag to Granny who caught it quicker than Henry could comprehend.

Henry kept staring at Granny despite Emma's insistent pushes towards the stairs. Granny was here too! If Granny was here, then maybe—he whipped his head around the room to see Ruby, the diner-owner's granddaughter. He had been so accustomed to Ruby's streak of red hair, but this Ruby was demurely dressed and donning a red cloak around her shoulders, placing a mug of ale on a table.

"Wait, that's—" He didn't get to finish his claim as Emma pushed him up the stairs.

"Move," she hissed quietly in his ear, and all he could do was follow her up into a room. As soon as it was locked shut behind him, she pulled down her hood with a heavy sigh.

"What was that?" He questioned curiously.

She shrugged and draped her cloak over the bed. "Being the Saviour gets me some perks."

Removing her canteen and sword on the bed as well, Emma sat heavily on the bed and removed her boots. His face grimaced as Emma began massaging her feet. His Mom always said Ma had SFS—Stinky Foot Syndrome, and apparently being a bandit or a Saviour or whatever she was didn't help the fact that it was still the case.

"I meant, what was that between you, Granny, and Ruby?"

She gawked at him. "Who?"

"Granny and Ruby! The lady behind the counter and the girl with the cloak."

"Let me guess," Emma scoffed. "Eugenia's your grandmother and Red is your cousin."

He groaned loudly and stomped his foot in aggravation. Clearly they were different people here entirely. Why would they call her Red? He looked upwards, mumbling his thoughts to himself. "They're probably different here too."

Emma ignored him, rolling her eyes like he was talking madness as she continued to massage her feet. After a minute, he huffed and moved toward her. It was like he was in some parallel world or something.

"So," she said as he sat down beside her. He waited a full minute until he realized she had grown silent again, a pink tint on her cheeks. When he nudged her, she flushed red and shrugged sheepishly. "In your world, me and Regina, and you I guess—are we, you know."

His eyebrows shot up confused. He never saw his Ma so shy before. His face softened for her to continue, and as if it greatly pained her she huffed and faced him fully, feet planted on the floor.

"Are we happy?" She deadpanned.

The question took him by surprise, but the nervous look on his Ma's face as her cheeks tinted red and her eyes darted from his face to the floor made him grin. She stared at him then, her lips parting just a little and looking like she wanted to say something, but for whatever reason, she didn't. He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, we're all really happy."

He wasn't sure if she was satisfied or saddened by the answer for she turned her focus to the wooden floor as her fingers clenched in the heavily starched bedspread. They stayed silent for a long while until she stood and made her way to the small wash basin in the corner of the room and began washing her hands like they hadn't just been talking.

Neither of them saw the shimmer in the mirror as a face disappeared back into glass.

Henry wrinkled his nose as the smell of vomit hit his face. He debated leaving the room and hanging out downstairs where the rest of the patrons were eating. He was small enough to hide in the corner, unassuming, and maybe he could get information on what was going on that made Ma so adamant of keeping him quiet. But Mom taught him better, and even though Ma was stubborn, he wasn't about to leave her as she upchucked into a bucket.

Emma's face was chalky and clammy, and her brow was cool with sweat. He always thought his moms were the prettiest women in the world, but right now, Emma looked like death as she lay on her stomach on the bed, head hovering over a bucket. It was hard to feel sorry for her though. He had warned her.

"I told you so," Henry said as he held back her hair, pointedly not looking into the bucket. "You shouldn't have drunk the river water."

"Kid," Emma warned. She looked up at him like she was about to put him in his place, but she held up a hand and retched into the bucket.

Sighing, he moved her hair to the side, careful that the blonde locks didn't dip into the bucket. When he was sure she was as clean as possible, he started to rub her back in slow upward patterns, just like Mom did for him whenever he was sick. The movement began to alleviate the tension in Emma's back, and even though she was still groaning, her breathing evened out and her sniffles quieted. Henry started to hum. It was all he could do to help Emma relax. He hummed that quiet tune Regina sang for him before bed, while sick, or just when she was happy. If it worked for him, it could work on Emma too.

The blonde froze under his hand and she shook off his touch. "Stop. Stop."

He whipped his hand back like he'd been burned.

She weakly moved the bucket onto the floor before collapsing on the bed with a wet rag pressed to her forehead. "Where did you learn that song?" She mumbled meekly.

"Mom," he answered easily. "She sings it all the time, especially when we're sick."

Emma chuckled darkly into the bed and almost spat out her next words. "She still does that."

He scrunched his face up confused. He didn't know what was up with his moms in this world, but there was a story behind them that he was determined to find out. "She took care of you here?"

"She wasn't always the Evil Queen, kid." She lifted her head up with great effort and held it up with two fists against her forehead. "She got that title when Snow broke the treaty."

"Wait." He reared back to get a better look at her, the gears in his head spinning. "Snow of the White Kingdom. Like the Snow White."

She squinted at him, and though he could tell her glare was full of condescension, the trickle of vomit on her lip didn't do her any favours.

"This is a fairy tale," Henry whispered to himself. Somehow, he and his moms, and seemingly everyone in Storybrooke were transported into a fairy tale. His eyes brightened. The red cloak on Ruby suddenly made sense. He had no idea what story the Saviour was from, but if his Mom was the Evil Queen set on destroying Snow White…

He clenched the blanket in his fist. "Did she—did she kill anyone?"

"It was war," she answered without bashing an eye. "People get killed in the crossfire."

"She's not like that where I'm from," he insisted. This Evil Queen sounded nothing like his mom. But, he reasoned, she used to sing to Emma.

Emma suddenly turned green then leaned over the bed, making it just in time to retch into the bucket. Henry winced as he patted her back. Spitting into the mess, Emma moaned and leaned her head along the edge of the bed, eyes closed and face sweaty. She made little faces, like every time she moved a certain way it hurt too much, but with a steadying breath she opened her eyes again. Green eyes were glassy, and Henry was certain his mom was running a fever. If it was anything like their camping trip, she'd be hallucinating soon. He just hoped she'd be able to puke it all out because he had no idea where a hospital was, or if this world even had a hospital. Then again, Mom had magic, so maybe there was a potion that could heal her stomach. If, his Mom was reasonable.

Emma sighed again, fighting to focus on Henry's face. "What's she like in your world?"

"She likes to cuddle," Henry said fondly. "We'll all be sitting on a couch, and she'll curl into you and tuck me under an arm. She doesn't sleep much on the nights you work a double, so she'll stay up until you come home, even though she has work. And she cooks. She tries to teach us, but we end up eating the food as we make it. She'll read to me too. Even though I say I'm too old for bedtime stories, she'll read with me whatever novel I'm reading and she'll do the voices even though they all sound the same."

"And she sings," Emma provided quietly, her eyes drooping shut.

Henry nodded. "Even in the washroom."

"I know," Emma said with a smirk.

"Yeah, you're pretty gross and in love back home too." He rolled his eyes. Even in this world, Emma was a lovesick puppy dog. It was nice that some things didn't change, but his moms still weren't together. He'd change that if it was the last thing he did.

"We're not in love," Emma argued.

He scoffed and lay back on the bed. "Whatever you say, Ma—Emma."

"You sound just like her," the blonde clattered, and it was then he noticed that Emma was starting to shiver. He touched her forehead and found it hot. Suddenly his heart raced as his mother huddled within herself. She was freezing but hot to the touch, and all he knew was that she needed medicine, or better yet, his Mom.

"Ma," he shook her quietly. "Ma—Emma, are you okay?"

The blonde squeezed her eyes shut as she shivered in her half-asleep state. He needed to get her help. If he just went downstairs quickly, that old lady behind the counter might help or do something. But Emma had told him to keep his head down, and he was sure she didn't want anyone to see her out of her Saviour cloak. Tears prickled to his eyes once more. His Ma needed him and he didn't know what to do. What would his Mom do? Curse Emma for being an idiot and drinking river water, but what else?

"Hey," Henry said desperately, moving so that he was lying face to face with her. "Hey, Emma, listen to me. Do you want to hear a story?"

She didn't answer, but he took her frantically shaking head as a yes.

He nodded and settled in, wrapping his arms and legs around her to keep her shaking to a minimum. Stories always helped him sleep. "You got me a skateboard when I was 8—it's a small board with wheels and you stand on it. Apparently you used to skateboard in high school, but Mom said I was too little to learn. We went out in secret."

Emma's shivering slowed to a dull humming, and even though she was still out of it, Henry hoped she was listening at least.

"It was so much fun. You'd hold my hand, and I'd kick off with you running beside me." He laughed to himself at the memory until his face furrowed to a frown. Maybe this wasn't the best story to start off with but Emma moved her chin up then, angling her face towards Henry like she was trying her best to pay attention. "I went out on my own one day while you were at work and Mom was making dinner.

"I skid off the curb, and I fell into traffic. My wrist broke when I held it out to stop the fall, and I was too hurt to move, but a car was already coming. It's this metal carriage that's faster than any horse. I didn't even think about getting hurt, I was just scared I was going to get in trouble for skateboarding without anyone knowing. The car tried to stop, and I thought I was done for, but then Mom came. I had no idea how she knew I was out there, but she pulled me out of the way, and we both fell backwards on the sidewalk. She ended up bruising her elbow really badly." He glanced down between them, eyes dark as he remembered those days. "You guys fought. You fought a lot, and I remember getting my cast on in the hospital, and I could hear you two fighting because you shouldn't have gotten me that skateboard and then you said to Mom that she should have been watching me better."

His eyes teared up and moisture leaked down his cheeks. "I thought you guys were going to get a divorce, and it would have been my fault. Even when we got home, you guys didn't speak. I saw a car about to hit me, and nothing was scarier than how quiet that house was for those days.

"I should have known better." He wiped at his eyes and shook his head to himself. "I walked down for dinner one time, and I saw you two in the kitchen. You usually help each other cook, but you guys were on opposite ends doing your own thing. I thought that this was it. I broke my family. But then Mom sighed, and she moved away from the stove and just looked at you. You didn't turn or anything, but I know you guys always know when you're looking at each other, and I was so scared you were going to leave us then."

He laughed to himself in wonder. "Mom hugged you and rested her chin against your shoulder, and I half-expected you to push her away, but you just relaxed. Like everything was right in the world again. You didn't say anything, you just turned around and hugged her back, and everything was better again."

So absorbed in the story was Henry that he didn't notice that Emma had fallen asleep, nose pressed into the leathers of his vest. She was still warm to touch, but at least she wasn't shaking and could get some rest. He kissed her forehead, sliding down so that his mother's arms wrapped around him like they always did when he needed a hug.

"I may not know why you aren't together in this world," Henry whispered into her chest, "but I promise I'll help you get back together."

He settled into his mother's hold when a shimmering in the vanity mirror caught his eye. He squinted, having sworn he saw a face disappear from the mirror.

Regina held her breath as she stepped to the edge of the forest, seeing the Howling Moon inn just off into the distance. She hadn't been there in so long, long before her days as Queen. Quite honestly she used to frequent the inn often in her youth, hiding her well-taken care of skin under a ragged old cloak and pretending that she didn't know the young woman with striking blonde curls in the corner eyeing her intently. The young woman no older than herself would always feign knowing her, and the two would eat and laugh all night. Sometimes more. Always more.

But that was in the past, and she wasn't a naive princess anymore.

She was a queen, loved by her people and feared by the rest of the kingdom. It wasn't a position she wanted to be in when she had taken control of the land, but if that was the only way to keep both kingdoms afloat then she'd suffer the reputation as the Evil Queen. She just had to remind herself that the things she lost in getting that title was worth it, but right now, she wasn't sure.

The Genie had pointed out Emma's location to be at the inn. She wasn't sure why she was so surprised to see Emma there, in an old room that looked different yet so familiar after all the years. Every other time she had asked the Magic Mirror to find the woman, Emma was traipsing through an unknown part of the forest or holed away in some underground hovel Regina could never find, so to find her there nearly made her falter. It was a shame really, her best guard reduced to life as a bandit. If Emma had taken Snow's heart like she asked then things would have played out differently. The tension between the two kingdoms would finally be over, and maybe—

"Your Majesty." Killian sidled up beside her, a team of three behind him. His gait was awkward as he held up his hooked hand, unused to the movements of his new addition. "Shall we attack?"

"I don't seek to cause a riot," she informed him, picking up her dress skirts and stalking towards the inn. "But be prepared for one."

Within moments they were at the perimeter of the inn. Regina scoffed at the tiny apple speared with an arrow that was etched into a sign. Why the owners of this establishment sided so heavily with Snow was beyond her. The young Queen would throw them under a bus the first chance she got. Like the owners, the inn-goers didn't take too well to seeing the Evil Queen and her Guard, marching up the walkway as if they owned the place. Technically, Regina grinned to herself, she did.

"What do you want?" A drunkard stood from his spot on the bench, pointing accusingly to the Queen with his mug. "Come to slaughter more of our people?"

Regina rolled her eyes as she stared down at the drunkard, a haggard man with tangled hair and an even more unkempt beard. "I wasn't planning on that tonight, but perhaps I'll make an exception."

She barely had to raise her hand for the patrons to scurry in all directions, chairs and tables flipped in their haste to escape. Some, however, were drunk enough to fight back. The drunkard, for one, grabbed the stool he was sitting on and hurled it at Regina. She didn't flinch as she froze the chair midair and one of her guards moved to restrain the man. Others around her tried to engage with the guard, using broom handles as weapons against the guard's swords. She ignored it though, stalking through the riot and evading every wayward chair or flying mug with a flick of her wrist. As soon as Regina entered the inn, she barely had time to flash a wicked smile before the same chaos ensued with patrons fleeing away.

"Get out." The owner of the Howling Moon, an old lady Regina knew to be a child of the night herself, held a crossbow out in front of her and aimed it directly at Regina.

"My, Eugenia Lucas," Regina tittered. "That's no way to address your queen."

"You're no queen of mine." The old lady released the latch and an arrow flew directly at Regina's face.

She caught it just before the tip reached her nose then dropped the arrow to her feet with a deadly glare. Her heeled boots clacked loudly against the hardwood despite the scraping chairs and the desperate cries of people hurrying to leave the establishment.

"Now, Eugenia," Regina said carefully. "I'm looking for someone, and all I ask is that you allow me to search for them, and you and these peasants can continue to drink away your sorrows."

"Why would I help you?" The old lady growled. "Do you think we'd rat out one of our own?"

Silently, Regina produced a fireball in her hands, the orb glowing brightly and illuminating the darkened room.

With a scowl, Eugenia Lucas motioned her chin towards the staircase, and Regina flashed her an appreciative grin. "Well, thank you."

The guards filtered in as Regina made her descent upwards, her blood boiling with every step she took. Emma really was a traitor if she was hiding behind Snow White's wolves. Apparently they had taken her former Captain into their makeshift little pack. Her lips snarled at the thought. She'd find Emma, and if she had to rip Emma's heart out to find this Saviour, this Snow in disguise–her foot faltered but no one was there to see the stumble.

As she reached the second floor landing, she was met with a corridor of doors, some flinging shut as if the people within sensed her presence alone. Rolling her eyes, she walked forward, flinging the doors open one by one. Shrieks of surprised guests filled the hallway, some in unseemly states of distress while others cowered in the corner, obviously alerted to the panic happening just a floor below them. Emma was in one of these rooms, the Genie had shown her. She was here and—

She flung open a door, and her lips curled into a grin. Why, today was her lucky day. The Saviour. In the room was the Saviour, her back to Regina as she slumped over and fiddled with the latch of the window, and as surprised as she was to see her foe, Regina was just as surprised to see the small boy beside her. This must have been the boy that set the ruse for her guards. The boy's eyes widened and he took a step toward her, charging at the queen's presence, but Regina raised a hand and the boy was effortlessly knocked out.

The sound of his dropping body made the Saviour turn, and only then did Regina stand speechless. Shadowed by the hood, Regina could tell that jawline anywhere, and there was no mistaking the twinkling of stormy green eyes hidden beneath its darkness. No, it couldn't be. The Saviour moved, breaking the window, and before she could take another breath, Regina whipped her hand up and the cloaked figure was ensconced in a shimmering blue light, freezing her in place.

Regina stalked into the room, careful to step over the boy's body as she ripped the hood from the figure's head. Her breath caught.

"Emma."

The blonde in question didn't say anything, couldn't say anything, and even though she was stuck in a freezing spell, Regina had a feeling Emma wouldn't have been inclined to say anything regardless. Instead, green eyes darted back and forth, moving from Regina's face to the open window. The brunette stood in her eyesight with a sneer etched onto her lips. Brown eyes darkened to near obsidian, and with a snap of her fingers, Emma collapsed into a heap on the floor.

Chapter Text

Henry's eyes fluttered open as the sun's rays shined brightly onto his face. He groaned, trying to get bearing of his surroundings, but the sun, despite his still droopy eyes, was way too blinding for him. It was just way too early for the ten-year old. He stuffed his face in the pillow. He must have forgotten to close the curtain again last night.

Suddenly, he sat up, arms straight against a bed that was not his and in a room that was not his own.

He had really hoped all of yesterday had been a really intense dream and that he would wake up and laugh about it with his moms while they made bird's nest toast and listened to oldie's music. Already he could hear his Ma say it wasn't oldies. Classic rock was still relevant. But no. He was still here in this weird land in these weird clothes, and he really wished he hadn't slept in these leather pants because now he was all hot, and never before did he miss arguing about bedtime with his Mom more than he did now.

He took a steadying breath and sat up on the bed. It was large for his tiny frame, but despite its size, it wasn't anything like his Moms bed back home. It felt like it was made out of a mixture of straw and sheep's wool, but the silk sheets on the bed let him know that obviously someone important slept here. He took a moment to look around the room.

"Woah." His eyes widened as he took in the high vaulted ceilings and the ornately decorated space. The bed he was positioned against a wall in the middle of the room, and behind him, a large opening gave way to an even bigger balcony. He could hear the faint song of birds singing in the distance. He stood up. Across the bed on the opposite wall was a fireplace just as big as him, the embers dying in the burnt wood. A chaise sat in front of it with a knitted blanket draping the back. To his right was a vanity, and though beautifully crafted, it looked to be made out of black steel. His hand reached out to touch the perfume bottles lining the table, and he picked up a short stubby one, barely used and homing a light purple liquid. Bringing it to his nose, he gave the spray a sniff. It smelled just like Mom.

A banging sounded as the door to the room burst open, and he nearly dropped the perfume in his fright.

"Put that down." Killian entered the room, his helmet under his arm as he pointed menacingly to Henry, but what startled him was that his other hand was no longer there.

Quickly he put the vial down , his back to the vanity as he gripped at the edges of the table. "Wh-what happened to your hand?"

He glared and took his helmet into his good hand, bringing the hook up to eye level. "Your precious Saviour."

Henry took a step forward, scared now with images of Emma with a hook coming out of her back flashing in his mind. "Where's my mom?"

"You mean the traitor?" Killian sneered as he stepped towards the boy. "The Queen will have her head now that she knows the Saviour is nothing more than a treasonous coward."

"She's not a coward, she's my mom!" Henry's fists clenched against his sides as he yelled at the man. If he was going to be in this world, then he'd have to play by its rules, and Killian was no friend to him here.

Killian growled and lurched forward, faster than Henry anticipated. The guard dropped his helmet to the floor with a clang and gripped Henry with his good hand. He trailed the point of his hook down Henry's cheek so closely Henry feared to move in case he got nipped. "Then perhaps you'd like to join your traitorous mother in the dungeon?"

Henry whimpered. In the dark reflection of the man's cold eyes, he could see his own cowering form, failing to break the hold on his neck. In Storybrooke, Killian was a cool friend of the family, but he had no idea what had happened to this world's Deputy Jones to make him be the way he was.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Immediately the grip on Henry's neck loosened as Killian looked past him with a glare. Henry squinted though he remained tense. Who was he looking at?

The deep, ominous voice spoke again. "Let him go, Hook."

The Captain of the Guard scowled though his grip remained firm. "He's nothing but the son of a traitor."

"Who is under the Queen's protection," the voice reminded him. "Harm him, and I shall make sure she knows it."

With a growl, Killian released Henry, the boy's back thumping into the edge of the vanity. He couldn't help but turn and look to see who had come to his rescue, but when he saw the disembodied head floating in wisps of blue smoke in the mirror, he yelped and jumped back into the captain. Killian pushed him off and strode back toward the entrance of the room. Henry stared dumbfounded at the face in the mirror that was very much not his own.

"Y-you can talk," he stammered, pointing at the head.

Despite the lack of body, he obviously shrugged. "I am the Queen's closest confidante."

"More like a nuisance." Killian bent to scoop up the helmet from the floor and stood by the doorway, his arms crossed as he took his post.

Henry rushed toward the vanity and gripped at the edges of the mirror, eyes wide with wonder. He laughed breathless to himself. "You're the Magic Mirror, aren't you?"

"I am the Genie," he nodded.

Henry looked behind him to see Killian scanning the area and ignoring him and the mirror. He turned back and whispered. "You know my mom? Regina the Queen?"

The Genie raised an eyebrow, and even though he was a simple floating head, Henry felt the mysterious man appraise him from head to toe. Motioning with his eyes, the Genie cast his gaze downward to a compact. Catching on, Henry picked up the compact and hid it in his shirt as he walked toward the balcony. His ruse of simply enjoying the morning air seemed stealthy enough for him, and with a careful glance behind his shoulder, he could see Killian was preoccupied with guarding the exit more than him.

He flipped open the compact once he got outside and whispered to the Genie. "I was at the inn with my Ma, and then Mom came and everything was a blur. Do you know where they are?"

The Genie pursed his lips, and if he had hands, he would have brought a finger up to his chin in thought. Again his dark eyes raked over the boy before he finally spoke. "Truly you are not of this world."

Henry shook his head before his eyes widened. "How do you know?" He hissed.

"I can travel through all the mirrors in all the realms," he explained. "But what the Queen fails to realize is that this world is not the only one in existence."

"I am in a different world," Henry stated in awe.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps just a different plane, running together with your world."

"But everyone from here, I've seen them in town. How can they be here?"

The Genie chuckled knowingly. "Like your mother, you will come to realize that while you may simply be a speck in the grand scheme of themes, your speck is just as important as the powers that created this universe."

The ten-year old scrunched up his nose confused. "Can you see my home? How can we get back?"

The Genie smiled. "You'll know when the time comes."

"But when's–" He didn't have time to finish his question when the man in the mirror disappeared, first his face, then his smile, then finally the wisps of blue smoke.

Henry tapped the mirror angrily. "Hey! I still have questions!"

The doors behind him boomed open. Henry turned suddenly, pocketing the compact in his shirt as he saw his mother approach. "Mom!"

He ran from the balcony to her, but Killian beat him to it, catching him around the middle and preventing him from getting any closer.

"Enough." Regina held up a hand before she looked to her guard. "Leave."

"Your Majesty—"

Regina waved her hand and Killian was pulled from the room, the doors shutting loudly behind him. Henry gasped and stared disbelieving at her. Emma had told him that Regina had magic, but seeing it—he was pretty sure he was more terrified than amazed because standing before him wasn't his mom who could probably magic a giant rainbow-coloured cupcake into thin air, but this was the woman who had just flung a man from the room without batting an eye.

But it was his mom.

He hadn't gotten a good look the night before, but Regina stood before him, hair done up in a beehive look and a blood red dress that she probably wouldn't be caught dead in if they were back home. She was paler, like she had covered her body in chalk, but all that did was make the dark eye make-up around her face pop.

He probably should have been scared, he was in the presence of the fabled Evil Queen after all, but all he saw was his mom in an elaborate Halloween costume, and if anyone could help him out of this land it would be her. He took a step forward. "Mom—"

"Your mother," Regina interrupted with a raised hand, her tone spitting the word like it disgusted her to say, "is in the dungeons."

He sighed exasperated, refraining from jumping up and down in his annoyance. He was half a second away from banging their heads together just to get them to remember. "You're both my moms. I'm Henry. Don't you remember me?"

For a fraction of a second, he thought he saw something in Regina's eyes, like they widened just a little bit in shock. She schooled it quickly and scoffed as she sauntered before him. "Don't be so bold, child."

The queen took a moment to circle around Henry, stalking him like a hawk with its prey. With every turn around him, Henry shifted his head to meet her gaze. Her mask was unreadable until she stopped in front of him and shook her head, muttering so softly he was sure it wasn't meant for his ears. "Where has she been hiding you?"

Boldly, he straightened and demanded. "What happened between you two?"

She visibly darkened, and Henry couldn't tell if she was offended or surprised. Probably both. If he knew anything about his mom, it was to steer clear of her when that vein on her forehead pulsed, and he was pretty sure it was ready to explode.

She took careful and calculated steps toward him, every step echoing in the spacious chambers. "Do not," she threatened, "question your Queen."

His mothers never laid a hand on him, not even to spank him when he threw a tantrum in the grocery store. He had no doubt that this woman wasn't afraid to do that and more if he wasn't careful. Anyone else in the realm would have cowered beneath her glare, whimper under the hold she had on his chin as her eyes promised pain.

But he wasn't from this realm, was he?

"No." Henry stomped a foot and crossed his arms over his chest, pulling away from her grip. He was fed up explaining to one mother who he was and he'd be damned if be wasted a day proving it to the other mother. He eyed her, and even though he was small, he held her gaze just as fiercely as she could. "You're both my moms, and you're the one who makes sure I take my vitamins every day and even gets me the gummy ones because those are my favourite. And you're the one who will lie down on the floor with me when I read in your office and you're still working on paperwork. And you're the one who always lays out our clothes before a nice party because me and Ma and you always match."

There were tears to his eyes now, tears streaming down his face because even though had tried to be brave for the past day, all he wanted was for his moms to make it go away. He felt like a lost boy in a grocery store, crying out for his moms. They were right there and he couldn't even reach them. Regina took a step back when his tears started to spring, but he hiccupped and pushed forward.

"I don't care if you're the Evil Queen here. I just want to go home, Mom." He rushed forward and buried himself into her front, sobbing quietly as he hugged her tightly.

Regina wasn't always the Evil Queen, though judging by the last few years, even she couldn't remember being something other than her monicker. It was a name created by the White Kingdom, an insulting name to rouse the support of the rebellion. She laughed when she heard it at first. If they wanted evil, they should have looked to their insipid little ruler. Snow attempting to destroy the Western Kingdom, now that was evil.

Waging war, sending her most fierce warriors to attack footmen whose only crime was swearing fealty to the wrong queen—that had earned her the name of Evil Queen.

She understood it, and to a great extent thrived on it. If Snow White thought she could break their peace treaty, then absorbing their kingdom was a sure fire way to let surrounding noblemen know not to make the same mistake as the young Queen.

After that, everyone kept their distance from Regina, fearing they would be the victim of her next reign of terror. It had been years since anyone had shown her any sort of affection, let alone hugged her, but here she was, standing in her chambers with a small boy sobbing into her chest.

She remained stiff under his grasp, his tears staining the bodice of her dress. Everything inside her told her to push this boy anyway, demand where he got such nerve to think that she and Emma—the Saviour—of all people could be his mothers.

But she didn't.

She stood there letting him cry on her, and her fingers twitched to at least smooth the bangs away from his face. Not only was he a delusional peddler boy, but he was in sore need of a haircut. There was something about his scent that incited a bout of nostalgia in the Queen. As if she had smelled this before, once upon a time.

"I want to go home," the boy moaned, squeezing her tighter. "Let's go home, Mom."

She swallowed thickly, her hands coming up as if knowing this boy needed soothing, but she could bring herself to do it.

The sound of her guards scurrying to stand in formation outside the door cleared her head. She shrugged the boy off her and straightened her dress with one swoop of her hand.

"Stay here," she said in a hoarse voice. She turned toward the door. "You'll be well taken care of."

"No, no." He grabbed for her hand and caught a few fingers before she pulled it away. "No, Mommy!"

Her breath hitched as she slipped past the doors and they slammed shut behind her.

Emma winced as she clutched at her ribs. No doubt Killian gave her a good kicking when Regina wasn't watching. The prat was always looking for a way to climb the ranks and what better way to take over the traitorous Captain of the Guard's place. She scoffed. Then winced. Her ribs were definitely sore. With much effort, she removed the cloak that had once kept her identity and tossed it to the ground. The white shimmering material was now stained with dirt and grime.

She groaned as she pushed herself off the cold concrete floor and sat up against the cavernous walls of the dungeon. She was usually on the other side of the bars, keeping watch of the prisoners whose crimes were so foul they were kept under the watchful eye of the Queen's Guards. Obviously treason called for close keeping. Somewhere in the corner of the cell, water dripped from the damp moisture that seeped from the earth and cut through the underground dungeon's walls. That was going to drive her crazy.

Then a rhythmic click-click sounded in the hallway before a heavy metal door screeched open. The click-click echoed as the door was pulled shut, and with every click forward, it grew louder and louder. Forget the dripping water, Emma thought with an eyeroll. Whatever was to follow would surely drive her mad.

Bracing herself, she stood up, using the wall as leverage as she walked slowly toward the bars. Her leg was stinging and the wound on her arm from the arrow was burning something fierce, but she wasn't about to let on that. Gripping a bar between each fist, she straightened and prepared herself.

From around the bend of the corner, Regina emerged. Even though Emma's last thought before Regina had frozen her the night before had been shitshitshit, now all she could do was sigh for the time lost. It had been two years since she had seen this woman last, and not a day went by where she wondered if what she had done had been worth it in the end. She had to believe it. Otherwise, she was living in a hole in the ground and taking up a cloak for nothing.

Regina approached slowly, a perfect fit to the dark and gloomy dungeons in her blood red dressed embossed with jewels at every lining. Emma had to laugh. She once knew the woman to want nothing more than to shed her skirts and run through the field in breeches. But that was a long time ago.

The Queen stood in front of the bars, her eyes raking up and down Emma's battered form. Anyone else tried for treason would have been unrecognizable now, and Emma couldn't help but wonder why Regina left her nearly untouched when she was Enemy Number Two in the eyes of the crown.

"The Saviour," Regina finally drawled, motioning to Emma with a wave of her hand. "I should have known."

Emma inclined her head as she whispered. "My Majesty."

Regina didn't flinch in acknowledgement as she brought her face right up to the bars. "We are far past that title."

"And whose fault is that?" Emma asked, meeting her challenging stare.

"Yours when you decided to let Snow White live!" The vein in her forehead popped as her eyes widened menacingly. She clutched the bars tightly just as Emma did, and if it weren't for the barrier between them, Regina would have butted their heads in her sudden fury to get close.

Emma didn't back down. Her lip twitched in her own anger. "I'm sorry I didn't want the blood of someone on my hands!"

"But you're fine with killing assassins who try to attack me."

"That's different!"

"How?"

"Because I'm protecting you!"

Regina scoffed and pulled back. She walked the width of the hallway before she turned back to face the blonde. "Protecting me would have been giving me Snow's head on a pike."

Emma softened with a heavy sigh. As black as Regina's eyes were right now, the blonde stared intently into them remembering the days when they shone golden in the sun. "No. It's not."

"You don't get to decide that for me anymore."

"You've already won," she implored. "You don't need to instigate anything further. You'll just cause another war. Snow hasn't been sighted since—"

"Since you let her escape!" The Queen marched to the cell once more.

Emma shook her head. "She won't hurt you, Regina. Trust me."

"Trust you?" Regina laughed before she levelled her glare on the blonde behind the bars. Her voice lowered to a low timber. "I did trust you. And it's Your Majesty."

"I thought we were past that title." Emma's lips quirked upwards. She took a step back and removed her hands from the bars, crossing her arms over her chest. "What do you want, Regina?"

"Is that the way to address the woman who holds your fate in her hand?"

Emma tilted her head. The intimidation game the Queen was famous for had no effect on the former Captain of the Guard. It was the one thing Emma knew Regina liked about her, but now she just used it to get a rise out of the brunette. "You want to know what I think?"

"Not in particularly," Regina tittered.

"I think you knew who the Saviour was this whole time," she began in a sing-song voice. "And I think if you really wanted to kill me, then you would have burned that inn down to the ground. Unless you're holding sentimental value with it?"

Regina shook her head incredulously before she stared at Emma dumbfounded. "Why were you even hiding there?"

The blonde held out her hand in a dismissive shrug. "I like the mutton."

Regina rolled her eyes. Emma's sass was always an annoyance to the queen. "Did you really think that I would allow you to get away with killing my guards and causing a riot against me."

"Hey," Emma eyed her offended. "I never killed any guards and I sure as hell never rioted against you. What the rebellion does when I'm not there is not on my hands. I saved people from being harmed by Killian. You know his reputation with the women in this land."

"At least he follows orders," Regina stomped.

The blonde scoffed and rolled her eyes. "A hook? Really, Regina? You used to have standards for your guards."

Regina summoned a fireball in her hand out of anger, the ball glowing bright orange in the darkness of the cavernous dungeon. Emma eyed it before cocking an eyebrow and re-crossed her arms. "I'm not scared of you, Regina."

"You should be, Saviour." Regina stepped to the bars with a threatening promise. They stared at each other for long moments, green eyes catching brown and not backing down. Finally Regina relented and diminished the ball. She brushed a strand of hair from her face with a huff before walking to the opposite side of the hall. "This boy, what of him?"

Emma rolled her eyes again, this time more annoyed than unamused. "He says he's your kid. You tell me."

"He says he's yours," Regina countered. She turned swiftly before looking at Emma with disgust. "Did you have him before joining my guard and stashed him away?"

"Did you lie about not being able to have children?"

"Of course not!" Regina slammed her open palm against the bars in a blind fury that even Emma jolted back in surprise.

The blonde looked down, pink colouring her cheeks before she glanced up and had the decency to look ashamed. The only sound between them was that damn dripping water and the heavy breathing of the queen as her anger took control.

Emma caught her eye, apologizing in the silence before Regina removed her hand from the bar and placed her hands on her hips.

"Have you spoken with him?" Emma asked, hoping to change the subject.

"Briefly," Regina answered as her hands moved from her hips to wrap around herself at the waist. Her face softened from the anger it once held until it turned into a mixture of confusion and something Emma hadn't seen in over two years. "He...he hugged me."

Blonde eyebrows shot up in surprise. "And he's still alive?"

"He's a child," Regina pointed out dryly, the eye roll held back but her face showing her obvious disapproval for such an idiotic sentence.

"Ours, apparently." Emma took the few steps back to the bars and looped her arms through, letting them dangle outside the cell.

Regina scoffed. "He's stubborn and short-sighted like you. He had the nerve to yell at me."

"Stubborn and short-sighted?" She smirked. "Now that sounds like you."

Regina didn't hold back her displeasure as she let out an annoyed huff before she waved her hand in dismissal. "We need to figure out where he came from, and then after that, you will be dealt with."

The blonde hunched forward, leaning her weight against the bars. "We?"

"He's obsessed with us," Regina rationalized. "Can you imagine what will happen to me if he continues to babble on about his delusions of grandeur?"

"The masses will think highly of you?" Emma posed with a coy smile. She straightened then with a finger to the air in thought. "Wouldn't it be just scandalous that the Evil Queen had a love child with the Saviour?"

Regina held her stare, and Emma's cocky eyes suddenly grew uncomfortable under the intensity. With a slight shake to her head, Regina murmured so quietly Emma just barely caught it. "Perhaps if history had gone down differently that may have happened."

Emma froze, her lips thin as she took in those words. She thought about that too. Every day for two years.

Regina shook herself out of her reverie. "No matter. Considering the circumstances, you're lucky you're alive, Saviour."

"I knew you wouldn't kill me."

"Not yet."

Emma rolled her eyes.

The Queen held up her hand and with a flick of her wrist, the cell opened with a click. The cell door swung open, but before Emma could even think about stepping out, Regina sauntered over and blocked the entrance.

There they were, without barriers and borders or kill orders between them.

Regina's eyes raked up and down Emma's body, the brown darkening until the Queen took a deep breath and continued on with her dramatics. She turned on the spot, her skirts billowing around her as she walked back down the hallway. "I assume the boy won't like it if I have his mother's heart in my hand. So that's why you're still alive."

Emma didn't move from the cell and just watched Regina as she took more and more steps away from her. "His name is Henry."

Regina paused.

"The boy is named Henry," she repeated with one short hysterical laugh. "After your father."

Slowly, Regina turned.

"Why?"

The brunette didn't answer and simply continued to look at Emma as if she didn't understand the words she was saying. Regina wasn't dumb, anyone in the kingdom could see that. But what only Emma could see was uncertainty. Regina had no idea why this boy who claimed to be their son had a name so dear to the Queen most feared.

Emma stepped out of the cell. "What if he's saying is true? What if in another life we—"

Regina raised her arm and flicked her wrist. Before Emma could finish, she found herself back into the Queen's Guard armour, black and shining and bearing her insignia.

The move alone distracted the blonde as she moved around awkwardly in the too large gear. "This isn't even mine."

"Everyone in the kingdom knows you're a traitor, and only a handful of guards know you're captive," Regina explained as she took calculated steps back toward Emma. She flipped the visor down over the blonde's face with a squeaky clank. "If you be a good Saviour and blend in, you may walk beside me."

"Regina—"

The Queen flicked her wrist again, and Emma's voice was stolen. The muted blonde waved her arms before she stomped her foot incredulously. As much as she was loathed to admit, she and Regina had to figure out where Henry came from and send him back for good.

Chapter Text

Henry paced the room, wracking his brain on what to do. Killian was standing guard outside his room, so it wasn't like he could just sneak out. The Genie had said the answers would come to him when he was ready, and he was more than ready to get out of this place. Medieval days seemed awesome in books when he was reading about knights saving princesses and fighting dragons, but the pot in the corner that told him that was the emergency night time toilet wasn't looking too awesome to him.

The Genie lingered in the mirror as he muttered to himself, never adding to his self-musings or saying whether he was on the right track or not. The floating head simply remained there, watching his every move.

This is like a problem solving equation, he told himself. Mom had always helped him with those when his math homework was just a little bit too tricky. Ma said just to use a calculator. He had neither his mom nor a calculator, so what did he know?

His moms hated each other in this world. That fact made him frown. What else? Emma could wield a sword and Regina had magic, that was a cool one. Come to think of it when Regina used magic to fling Killian from the room, remnants of purple smoke followed his trail. He hadn't noticed it then, too preoccupied with the sickening thud the man had made when his body hit the concrete seconds before the doors flung closed, but it was there.

Just like it was there when his Mom was reading that weird book.

He shook his head. Could that have been magic, even in their world? He was ten and even he knew that even though the thought of a real life Hogwarts was really, really cool, there wasn't any magic in their world. Let alone, embedded in a book.

His head shot up and he turned to face the Genie sharply.

"The book!" He cried.

The Genie raised his eyebrows in intrigue though his expression remained stoic.

"There was a book that Mom was looking at right before she collapsed," he explained, rushing to the table and clutching at its edges. "That book was old and weird looking. It had all these symbols all over it, but there was this purple smoke just like the magic. Could that be it?"

Henry's heart raced as the words poured out of him. That had to be it. What other explanation could there be? Magic book. Spell. They wake up here. It all made sense.

The Genie held his wild gaze, giving off no indication whether he was right or wrong. Until he smiled.

Henry threw a fist in the air. "I knew it!"

He rushed to the door and had his hand on the handle before he paused and turned back to the mirror. "Erm, you wouldn't happen to know where it is, would you?"

"The Queen possesses many books," the Genie informed.

Henry rolled his eyes. "How are you supposed to be a helpful Magic Mirror when you don't give straight answers?"

The man in the mirror grinned. "Your mother wonders the same."

Voices came through the large doors, and Henry could hear Regina's voice, ordering Killian away. Before he could shoot back, the doors opened and Regina stepped back in wth a black knight in tow. Their visor was down and their stance was intimidating as they backed up Regina who was already pretty frightening, even in Henry's world.

"Mom," Henry rushed forward. "I need your help-"

Regina held up a hand and the boy slowed his step. She waved another hand over the knight, the same purple mist clouding the guard as it did his mother in her study, and before his eyes, Henry saw Emma again. She was bruised, but the glare on her face directed to Regina was all Emma.

"Did you have to mute me too?" The blonde hissed though Regina paid her no mind.

"Mama!" He ran this time, not giving either women time to process his approach before he engulfed them both around the waist.

He didn't see the way they glanced at each other, neither knowing what to do about the child around their waist. Henry just buried his face between them, breathing in their familiar scent and feel. In any world, Mom would always smell like jasmine and Ma would always smell like cinnamon.

It was Emma who shimmied out of his grasp first, and as soon as they were separated, Regina took calculated steps away from the blonde and their alleged son.

"Kid," Emma began, dropping down to one knee. "We need to talk."

"We need to get out of here," he insisted. "I figured it out-"

"You," Regina's voice dropped to a low threatening timbre. Henry didn't flinch and Emma rolled her eyes. "Need to tell us where you came from and why exactly you think this filth and I are your mothers."

Emma turned to swiftly glare at Regina, and the brunette cocked an eyebrow daring her to question it.

"Because you are," he said again.

"Prove it." Regina waved her hand in the air as if expecting some show before she waltzed to the chaise in front of the fireplace and sat.

Henry gawked. "How? You don't have any of my memories."

"Figure it out," the Queen demanded.

Emma stood and huffed coming to stand behind Regina's chaise. She didn't sit, and Henry wondered how exactly they knew each other in this world.

He crossed his arms and glared at his mothers. When he got home, he was going to give them a piece of his mind. He'd take twice as long to get ready for bed and not put his shoes away. That'll show them.

The two women gazed at him expectantly. They really wanted him to prove it. It wasn't even like he had their eyes or the same DNA. He was just theirs and that was always enough. Feeling at a loss of what to do, he slowly uncrossed his arms, letting them dangle to his side, and started to hum.

The same bars Regina used to sing for him to fall asleep sounded softly in the air. Regina faltered, and Emma smirked just a little bit.

Before he could get to the second verse, Regina held up a hand for him to stop. "That doesn't prove anything."

"You named me after Abuelo Henry," the boy stated with a determined step forward. "He died in our world when I was four. Is-is he still here?"

Emma looked down solemnly at the Queen, and when Regina's stoic expression remained fixed on the boy, the Saviour answered. "No."

Henry frowned but took another step forward. "He ran the stables in our world, and you had a horse named Rocinante. You used to take me riding on him. He's older now, and I've been asking for a horse for years. You say I'm too little. Ma says you're just scared to let me ride on my own."

"He got you there," Emma muttered amusedly to Regina, nudging her shoulder though she remained impassive.

Henry turned to Emma then. "You wanted to adopt because you never got the chance to be taken in by a family when you were younger, and you didn't want any other kid to go through what you did. Do you have a family here?"

The blonde's smirk turned into a frown.

"You used to tell me that the first family you ever had was the only one you ever needed, and that's when you met Mom." Henry knit his eyebrows as pieces started to fall in place. "I-I think you wanted to be something. Mom said you wanted to be a cop, and she didn't want to stand in front of your dream. But that's it, isn't it? You tried doing the saviour thing even in my world, but Mom meant more to you so you followed her back to Maine."

"What are you talking about, kid?" Emma asked shifting uncomfortably.

Regina shook her head. "How did you get to our land?"

"The book," Henry said excitedly. "There was a book with weird symbols and you were reading it and there was purple smoke!"

Emma nudged Regina. "It sounds like the kid's been sniffing one of your magic books."

Regina dismissed her wth a wave of her hand. "My books are kept locked away in my library."

"Really?" The blonde scoffed. "Because one time you left one out and I ended up turning into a cockroach."

Regina levelled her with a knowing smirk. "And how do you know I wasn't just turning you into a cockroach?"

"Can I see it?" Henry piped up.

"No!"

Henry faltered as both women yelled out. It shook him because how many times had his mothers teamed up together, and here they were, in a land where they supposedly hated each other doing the exact same thing. Regardless of what world he was in, he was still their petulant and insistent child.

"But what if it's the key to getting home!" He stomped his foot imploringly.

"This," Regina said, rising from the chaise, "is my home. I have worked hard to bring this realm to peace, and I'll be damned if some child is here to take it away."

"Regina," Emma frowned. "He's just a kid."

Despite the Queen's outburst, Henry held himself tall, his chin sticking out, and his chest puffed. "I'm your kid. And you taught me to stick up for what I believe in. You both did."

He took a step closer and made sure he had their attention. Their eyes never left his. "And I believe in you."

He turned on the spot and headed towards the door, calling over his shoulder. "If I have to find this library by myself to get us all home then I will."

The door slammed shut behind him as the two women were left standing dumbfounded in the room. It was Emma who broke the silence first with her amused snickering. Regina turned to squint confusedly at her reaction.

"Does your son amuse you?" She questioned.

"My son?" Emma laughed. "Did you see that glare? It was like looking at a picture of you."

Regina rolled her eyes but didn't argue as she led the way out of the room lest Henry find himself in trouble he couldn't get out of.

Regina internally groaned. Never externally, not when she was taught that Princesses and Queens never show their frustration. Though there were many a night with the blonde inside her where she couldn't control stifling any groans or moans or any other obscene noises. But those were the days of the past, and right now, she was reminded that no matter how difficult it was to find one spell book in a room full of thousands, she was not allowed to show her annoyance.

Henry and Emma, however, had no problems voicing their aggravation.

"What's it look like again, kid?" Emma asked slamming a book shut.

"It's this big," Henry answered holding up his hands that gave no real visual cue. All they knew was that it was bigger than the size of his palm. "And it's brown."

Regina cocked an eyebrow at all the books on the tables and lining the shelves. They were all brown.

"And the cover had weird symbols on it. With swirls," he continued. Stealing a feather and ink from the desk, he drew a spiral on a blank piece of parchment and held it up.

"That's simply a caution sign. A warning for the reader to beware of the contents of the page." She picked up a book at random and sure enough, it had that symbol. "All magic books possess that symbol."

"So we know nothing," Emma surmised.

"I'll know it when I see it," Henry promised. He moved to another shelf on the far wall and plucked an armload of books into his arms before bringing them to the table in the centre of the room.

Regina winced. Emma snickered. It was going to take the Queen ages to reorganize her books.

She was grateful she had ordered her guards away for the evening. Usually she walked with a personal guard, especially since Snow's release, but she figured hiding Henry and Emma away from her staff was the best course of action. When both the boy and the blonde grew hungry an hour later, their stomachs growling in tangent, Regina softly rolled her eyes at how similar they were but produced a fruit platter with cured meats regardless.

Every so often she would glance at the boy who called himself her son. Their son, really. Their son named after her father, and whose nose twitched like hers and who frowned like the blonde beside her. Perhaps in the other world he claimed to be from, Emma had given them a child.

The idea of Emma swollen with a baby made her breath falter.

The blonde in question looked to her with a raised eyebrow, but Regina continued searching for whatever book Henry thought he could find. It was probably a delirium potion that he had taken. She wouldn't put it past Snow White to drug a child in order to use him as intelligence. Gain access to the Queen and her best Knight, and Snow would surely have an in with the kingdom. But Henry had information on them no one else in the whole realm would know, so she had to wonder...

She glanced at the child who used his fingers to pick up a piece of meat, gobbling it up in his mouth, then moved to pick up a book. Before he made contact, she tsked. "Wipe your hands."

His hand hovered over the book before he dropped it down to his lap and used the end of his shirt to wipe.

Regina sighed. "There are handkerchiefs by the platter."

"But they're already clean." He held up his hand as evidence.

Regina glared at Emma. "How do you doubt he's your son when he acts just like you?"

The blonde ignored her and swung her feet up onto the table with a small pile of books in her lap. She looked to Henry with a knowing grin. "I'm the nice one, aren't I?"

Henry looked between both women as if he was scared to confirm or deny her statement. Regina folded her arms. Why wouldn't she be the nice one?

"Well, you do really dumb things sometimes," Henry said by way of answer. "Like sometimes you'll come home really late and not tell Mom you had to go to the hospital-it's a place where lots are healers work."

Regina scoffed and looked to the blonde. "That's like that time you scratched your chest in a practice duel and refused to let a healer look at you for two days."

"It was a scratch," Emma argued.

Henry frowned. "You said that in my world too."

"Then I like the Emma in your world," she stated, dropping a book onto the table and picking up a new one.

"Yeah, you guys are the same pretty much," Henry mused aloud to himself. "The Emma in my world is also crazy about Regina too."

This time Regina was the one to smirk. "Some things never change."

"I'm not crazy about you." Emma argued, feet planting to the floor.

"Sure, dear."

The trio continued to spend the rest of the day and night scouring through hundreds and hundreds of spell books. Henry had managed to narrow it down to the size and shade of brown the book was, and when both women understood and were able to bypass the more grandeur-looking styles, their search hastened.

Not by much though.

After a dinner of roast swan, which Regina presented with a wicked glee to her eye, their search began to wane as the hour grew later. Henry knocked out with his head on the table, and Regina magicked a table to transform into a small bed so that Emma could lay his body on something more comfortable. They briefly wondered if they should pause their hunt since Henry was sleeping, but they silently continued on.

It was for the best, Regina had whispered into the quiet of the room with only the sound of Henry snoring and the crackling of the hearth to keep them company. The less guards saw of Emma, the better. It wasn't because this was the longest she had been in Emma's presence in the last two years, and she found it comfortable. That wasn't it at all.

When it past midnight and the fire died down to a warm glow, the light from the magically lit candles was the only thing lighting the room. Regina had a small pile of books in one corner, seemingly fitting the description Henry had so vaguely given. Emma's pile was bigger, less strict with her rules of what qualified as the magic book Henry had seen. The blonde yawned as she flipped through a book's pages, deemed it unreadable and tossed it to her pile of possible books.

With a heavy sigh, Regina stood from her spot, aware of how Emma's eyes followed her despite trying to remain subtle. Subtlety was never the blonde's strong suit. For such a great warrior, Emma was pointedly clumsy. If she hadn't overseen Emma during her early days of training, sparring with Captains and men twice her size, she would have assumed the young woman nothing more than a lady's maid. But Emma was a warrior, her movements were controlled, powerful, direct. Regina knew first hand of that. She shut her eyes. The late hour was taking its toll on her.

With a wave of her hand, purple magic surrounded her. Gone was her blood red dress and beehive up do. Her makeup was even washed free. Emma gawked openly now at the way that Regina's long hair was braided over a shoulder and how she donned a simple white dressing gown. Despite the more innocent look, the Queen crossed her arms over her chest with a raised eyebrow.

"It's late," she said by way of explanation.

Emma nodded mutely. "I know. I just-I miss it."

Regina took her seat once more and sat primly in the chair. She reached for another book. "Miss what?"

"Us."

The word hung heavily in the air. Regina's eyes glanced up from the book and met Emma's sheepish gaze. For such confidence, the blonde was suddenly shy as she moved her eyes from Regina down to the book at hand.

"That was a long time ago." Regina stated pointedly at her book though even she knew her eyes were unseeing.

"We were together longer than we weren't."

The Queen's eyes flashed meeting bright green ones. "It was still the past."

Emma leaned forward then, reaching her hand over the table but not grabbing for Regina. "You don't miss it?"

The brunette ignored her and made it a point to turn the page. As diplomatic as Regina was, her stubbornness could cause a war, or extend it, rather.

Did she miss Emma? Her fingers shook with each turning page as she silently scolded herself. How could she when the one person she ever loved had broken her trust? Emma should have followed orders and killed Snow White. Instead, she showed herself to be a traitor to the Queen in front of both kingdoms.

Yet, Regina missed her.

Being this close to her, this familiar, with a son-she slammed the book shut and set it back in the pile she had taken it from. Wisps of magic basked off the page. Luckily it was nothing more than its scent or Regina would be growing a pig's nose.

There was a thought.

If a book had somehow landed in Henry's world and her counterpart had inadvertently activated a spell, then that was one explanation for how Henry got here. But what of them? They couldn't possibly be from the world the boy spoke of. They had memories here. Regina remembered her parents and her upbringing. She and Emma had history together that was far more detailed than a simple memory spell. What they had was real.

She rolled her eyes at that. Was being the operative word.

Whatever the Emma and Regina in Henry's world did, they were together, in love, with a child. That was all Regina ever wanted. She may have a Kingdom who revered her as their Queen, but marrying the crown wasn't enough for her. In another life perhaps. She laughed to herself. Well, in another life it was absolutely certain.

"What?" Emma spoke up. The brunette snapped her eyes back to the blonde, realizing she hadn't been getting much done searching for the book.

She picked up another one. "What?"

"You have that look on your face."

"That is what I look like, Saviour," she drawled flipping to a random page.

"No." Emma stood and scooted her chair closer to Regina's, ducking her head to inspect the brunette thoroughly. "What's on your mind?"

Regina shut her eyes and debated sending Emma back to the dungeons for insubordination, but there was something about the blonde that put her at ease. There always was. She sighed and whispered in wonder. "In another world, he's our son."

"Yeah," Emma answered with just as much awe. "He is."

They both looked at the snoring boy fondly.

"He gets his manners from you," Regina said pointedly.

The blonde laughed. "I wonder where he gets his temper from."

She stood and removed her leather vest, dropping it unceremoniously onto the table before them. Regina scowled, but the blonde ignored her. She continued to stretch out her limbs before the graze on her arm made her wince. Pulling the fabric of her shirt from the shoulder down to inspect it, she nodded seeing that it was healing well enough.

"You'll need a healer," Regina pointed out dryly.

"It's just a-"

"It's not a scratch." The Queen stood up then and made her way over to the blonde. She trapped Emma between herself and the table and made quick work with untying the strings holding the top of her shirt together. When they were loose enough, she tugged the sleeve down to fully expose the shoulder and most of Emma's collarbone. A garish green jagged wound stared back at her. "It'll get infected and you'll lose an arm."

"Do you care?" There was little malice in her words, and when Regina looked up, she caught Emma's face mere inches from her own, gazing intently for answers.

She didn't give one. Instead, she hovered a hand over the wound. "May I?"

With Emma's permission, she called forth her magic, purple mist circling a sun-kissed shoulder until the green jagged wound faded back to unblemished skin. "You'll live another day to cause a ruckus against my guard."

The blonde rolled her eyes and stretched out her shoulder, rolling it back several times before deeming it acceptable. Silently, both women returned to their seats and continued their search. Regina was determined to ignore the blonde for the rest of the evening, perhaps even retire for bed soon. The sharp intake of breath coming from the other woman in the room had her looking up.

Emma held a book in her hand, a deep bronzed purple with a brass lock over its pages. The lock was unclasped, and the spine was well worn, but when the blonde opened the book, the pages were blank save for a pressed orchid.

"You kept this?" Emma wondered, touching the dried flower within.

"It is mine," the Queen muttered, though she diverted her eyes and let her braid fall over her face to hide the red tinting her cheeks.

"Not your typical coronation day present." Emma closed the book and stood. Her hollow steps in the library seemed to boom against the dying crackle of the fire. They held each other's gaze for a long moment before she handed it over to Regina who took it and stared down at the cover.

"Other Knights gave me a badge of their honour and from you I received a book." There was no taunting in her words, just simple fact as she carefully placed the book down in front of her.

"And you kept it."

She dipped her head solemnly. "I kept it."

Wordlessly, the blonde dropped to one knee. Immediately the Queen recognized the sign of fealty, one Emma and the rest of her guard had sworn to her on the day of her coronation. Emma closed her right fist and placed it over her left breast, her gaze fixed on Regina's.

"Regina, I swear to you, daughter of the Eastern Kingdom, my loyalty." Regina's breath hitched, but the blonde's eyes never wavered. Even on the day of her coronation when Emma had repeated these same words to her, green eyes remained fixed on the newly crowned Queen. "I swear upon my life that every breath I take, every bead of sweat I shed, every beat of my heart shall be in your name as the one true Queen. For I know nothing except my loyalty and devotion to you."

Regina's face remained impassive though her brain was warring inside her. She had believed Emma when she said the words then, and she was so tempted to believe her now. Her shoulders sagged and she stared transfixed at her fingers in her lap.

"I should have you hanged for lying to the Queen's face," Regina finally murmured though there was no promise in her voice.

"It wasn't a lie," she begged, her eyes saying something that her tongue couldn't. Her hand dropped slowly from her chest to her knee.

"Then why wouldn't you kill Snow?" Regina questioned, her voice edging on a hiss.

"Are you mad that she's alive or are you mad that I didn't do it?" The blonde challenged.

"What does it matter? You've shown your true colours to the Kingdom."

Emma's head dropped, her chin pressed against her chest and her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. "Ask me why."

"What?"

The blonde lifted her head, steely determination set in green eyes. "Ask me why I let her go."

"Do not demand things of your Queen."

"I am demanding things of Regina, the woman who tried everything in her power to resist retaliation until our people became too hungry to fend for themselves."

"We are not your people," the Queen hissed.

Emma kept going. "It would have been so easy to give you Snow's head. It would have been easy to spill her blood on the castle steps. I made the best decision I could and-"

"And betraying me was the only thing you could do?" Regina stood up then, chest heaving and eyes ablaze.

The blonde rose to her feet, her palms up defensively and her eyes begging the woman before her for understanding. "If you killed Snow, this war would never end. Her resistance wouldn't have rested until it was your head they had on a pike."

"That's a decision I make as Queen."

"It was a stupid one." Brown eyes darkened and Emma was quick to explain. "You may be reckless with your life and say it's all in the name of the crown, but I refused to put you in harm's way more than you already are."

Emma took a cautious step forward and then another and another until she could feel the tension radiating off the brunette. Regina's arms were crossed over her chest and her eyes were near-black. A scowl was etched onto dusky pink lips, and Emma almost shut her eyes wanting to smooth it away to see that smile she had missed for so long.

Her palms rested on Regina's shoulders first, and when the Queen didn't shake her off, she let her hands drape down over her arms and untangled them from across her chest. Regina's hands in her own was a familiar weight. The brunette was always so smooth compared to the callouses on Emma's pale palms, and after living in the forest for two years, her hands only continued to get more rough. Still, Regina didn't move and kept her intense gaze on the blonde.

"You were already winning when we found Snow, Regina," Emma explained. "You won every battle, you gained the loyalty of half her kingdom. Killing her would have darkened your heart and put it in a place where it wouldn't come back from. I swore fealty to you long before the day you became Queen, and I promised to protect you in every way possible. This Kingdom needs you on the throne, not assassinated on the side of the road out of vengeance."

She dropped her hands then and let one catch around the brunette's waist. If Emma hadn't had been so close, she would have missed the way Regina's breath hitched at the contact. Slowly, she moved her free hand up to Regina's chin, thumb stroking her jaw line there as she stared intently at the scar over the older woman's lip. It had been the one and only assassination attempt that had left a mark on the Queen, and it was that attempt that set Emma's gears in motion.

Regina, however, was desperately trying to keep her eyes open, was willing her flesh not to pebble at the blonde woman's touch, but no matter how hard she had tried, her eyes slowly shut and her skin tingled in anticipation.

With ease she weaved their fingers together, squeezing reassuringly. "Regina."

The brunette looked, eyes snapping to their joined hands then moved to pleading green eyes.

"Let me come home."

A whimper escaped the Queen's lips, though if she had done it in anyone else's presence she would have denied it to the grave. Through little willpower of her own, Regina squeezed Emma's hand in return, and the blonde looked as if the simple gesture was like a drop of water in a desert.

Regina opened her mouth, brain still unaware of what her tongue wanted to say, until Henry moaned in his sleep and the spell that had washed over them broke long enough that Regina was able to pull back and clear her throat. Without so much as a second glance, Regina turned from the blonde and sat near Henry, making sure the boy remained sleeping.

The tension in the library ran high, and Henry couldn't figure out why. When he woke up that morning on yet another unfamiliar bed, he thought maybe this time it would be just a bad dream. Nope. He was still in crazy land with Tweeddle Dum and Tweedle Dummer as his moms. As long as they were saying he wasn't their son, he could call them whatever he wanted. He was thankful (and hopeful) that neither of them could read minds in this world. He'd be so grounded if they could.

Regina had magicked them another meal, breads and cheeses and fruits this time, and when Emma had asked Regina to pass a stem of grapes, his brunette mother pointedly ignored her. It was like that time he had broken his wrist all over again, and even in this world, he was scared for the fate of his mothers.

He knew better and decided to leave well enough alone, so they all searched through the library in silence. After seeing so many spell books, he didn't want to admit he was starting to forget what the one they were searching for was starting to look like. Already Regina was starting to put back the books they deemed a wrong fit back onto the shelves. There was a little tiff between Regina and Emma when the blonde didn't realize that was what she was doing and started bringing those books back. Luckily for them, when Henry climbed up onto a chair and reached for the highest shelf to see if they missed anything, his fingers felt the spine of a leather book.

He grinned.

"I found it!" He hopped off the chair and waved the book in the air like he had just found a golden ticket. "This is the book!"

They stood and moved around the table to see what he had found. Emma was the first to reach him, plucking the book from his fingers and inspecting it.

"It's in gibberish," she frowned.

"Elvish," Regina corrected and stole the book from Emma. She flipped through its pages, her eyebrows furrowed in contemplation. "It's a book of destiny."

"What does that mean?" Both Henry and Emma scrunched up their noses in similar confusion.

"These spells," Regina said flipping out its pages. Mists of purple flew from the book like dust. "They alter destiny. Gaining foresight, invoking lust, tipping chance—it helps a person to take control over their fate be it relationships or circumstance."

Regina hummed as she paused on a page with a tilt of her head. "And your mother must have used this one."

Henry rushed to her side and stood on his tippy toes to see into the book. All he saw were a bunch of squiggly lines like the warning sign on the front. Mimicking his blonde mother, he said, "It's gibberish."

Instead of rolling her eyes at Henry, Regina glared at Emma as if she was the sole reason why her apparent son took so much after her.

"Elvish," she gently corrected to the boy.

Emma moved over beside them as well and leaned over Regina's shoulder to inspect the book. "So give it a blow and see if it'll all go away."

"I can't." Regina skimmed her fingers across the page and showed them to the other two. Her fingers came away bare from the text. "The magic was already used."

"That can't possibly be the same book the kid saw in his world," Emma said.

"Regardless, the only thing left to do is let nature take its course with this spell." Her furrowed brow and steely gaze still locked on the page had Henry tilting his head.

"What does it mean?" He asked.

Regina took a breath before speaking quietly. "In every world, under every star, happiness shall not be too far."

"That's vague." Emma wrinkled her nose.

Henry smacked himself in the forehead as a light bulb went off in his head. "That's it! A happy ending!"

"Kid," Emma sighed. "This isn't a fairy tale."

He glared at them with a look that Regina was proud of. "You're a Knight of the Evil Queen fighting against Snow White." They looked at him like he had two heads. He huffed and muttered, "nevermind."

"What are you on about?" Emma crossed her arms over her chest.

It was his turn to look at them like they were some strange creature. "Don't you see why I was sent here? In every world, your happiness isn't too far. You guys aren't together in this world!"

Still, they looked at him like he was an alien.

He huffed and waved his hands towards them. "Kiss!"

"True Love's kiss?" Regina asked dryly.

"You have True Love's kiss here and you don't think this is a fairy tale?" Henry ground his teeth. "If you guys share True Love's kiss, we can all go home."

"Henry—"

The boy cut Regina off with a stomp of his foot. The Queen looked surprised, but Emma seemed to be holding back a chuckle. "No. All these days you two keep saying that you don't believe in this, and you look at me like I'm crazy. Just try. Just this once."

Regina sighed resignedly, and Emma shifted from foot to foot. Slowly they turned toward each other, and Henry could practically hear the silent communication his mothers were having. Humour him, no doubt, but there was something in their eyes that reminded him so much of how Ma would look over at Mom when they thought he wasn't looking.

"I suppose…" Regina began.

"It doesn't hurt," Emma finished.

Henry grinned then frowned. That same lovesick look came over their faces whenever they were about to kiss, and he knew, he just knew, that they didn't even know they were doing it.

Emma took a step forward, one hand hovering at Regina's waist and the other lingering by her chin. She never touched though, not when Regina wasn't a hundred percent receptive.

"Just a kiss and he'll go home," Regina clarified.

"Just a kiss," Emma agreed.

Regina took a step forward, and Emma's hands couldn't help but land where they were. Tentative fingers lightly lifted Regina's jaw upwards. Their gaze remained locked. The tension in the room heated and this time, it wasn't because the two women had argued to no end. No, the air in the room thinned as they stared hard at one another and the space between them dwindled.

Slowly, Emma ducked her head, tilting it to align with the slightly shorter woman. Henry wasn't sure who made the final step forward, Emma or Regina, but soon the space between them was gone and for once, he was glad to see his mothers kissing.

But nothing happened.

He scrunched up his brow, half-expecting this whole True Love's kiss thing to be instantaneous, but as they remained pressed against one another for another few seconds, the air around them just felt suffocating and uncomfortable.

The two women pulled back. Emma's eyes were half-shut and she looked a little dazed, but Regina didn't hold the same sentiment. Her frown had quickly replaced the quiet eagerness it had shown seconds earlier.

"Wait," Henry started confused. "Try again."

Emma was all too quick to step forward, but Regina held a hand to her chest and forcibly pushed her back. The Queen directed her frown to the boy, and Henry couldn't help but mimic it.

"Enough," she said with a hollow determination. "It didn't work."

"But it has to!" Henry cried. "You have to try again. You're the one who cast the spell. It has to be your happiness you find."

"I have all that I need."

"That's a lie!"

Regina held up a hand and instantly a fireball erupted from her palm. Henry paused. For the first time in all his days here, he was worried that Regina would use it on him.

"We can try again—" Emma jumped in.

"Why?" Regina scoffed, turning a threatening glare to Emma. "Because you think you're my True Love? I am done with you, traitor, and I done with this ruse. Take your love child and get out of my Kingdom."

Chapter Text

Henry frowned and bit his lip as the sun beamed down on him. He was walking down a lone dirt road, his blonde mother by his side. Regina had ordered them out of her kingdom at first day break, and she at least had the courtesy of providing them with provisions like water and bread. Henry had a feeling it was only because he was there. He pretended not to listen when Regina gifted Emma with a sword and dagger, telling her they were in case anyone attacked Henry. He also pretended not to notice it was the same sword and dagger Emma had been using since he met her, just clean looking and sharpened. If it was just Emma, Regina would have made her walk barefoot through the woods no doubt. He thought about it. Considering their departing gifts, maybe not. She'd give her shoes at least. They snuck out the back of the stables, away from the castle's courtyard and any prying eye that would recognize the Eastern Kingdom's traitor.

He sighed and stuffed his hand into his pocket, thumb playing over the compact he had accidentally pilfered from Regina's vanity. At this rate, he was going to stay here forever. The compact in his grasp heated when he squeezed, trying to keep the tears at bay. This stopped being a fun little adventure a long time ago. He was ready to go home, hug his moms, and never let go.

The book was a dud, but he was sure he was right about it. It was all about happy endings, and if this was the only world where Regina didn't have one, then of course he would get sent over here. There had to be something missing.

He huffed and shifted to face Emma who had remained silent beside him. Along with her sword and dagger, her cloak was returned to her, strapped firmly around her shoulders. "What happened between you and Mom?"

Emma tensed. "You mean Regina? You know already."

He rolled his eyes. "From the beginning. Why you betrayed her."

"I didn't—" she huffed, the tension in her body palpable. "I had to."

"Do you regret it?" He looked up at Emma. "Not killing Snow at the price of Mom?"

Her jaw was strong as she stared out ahead. It wasn't like there was anything interesting out there other than more dirt and trees on both sides.

Emma brought her chin down with a quiet sigh. "She would have been killed."

"How?"

"That's a long story."

"Then tell me the one of how you and Mom met," he implored. "You've been with each other forever."

"Not forever, kid."

He turned his head to look back at the castle behind him. They were only an hour's walk away, and he bet Emma was going to take them to a safer part of the woods to hide out in for the time being. "We've got time."

The blonde sighed again but eventually conceded. "I don't have family here. Guess your mom in your world and I share that."

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

She shrugged. "Regina was just a princess when I met her. You probably think everyone knew what their monarchs look like, but when they're waving to you from a balcony or from inside a carriage you can't tell a princess from a beggar. And Regina—she liked to sneak into the courtyard where no one knew who she was.

"She liked watching the puppet shows and listening to the travelling musicians whenever they visited," explained Emma with an air of fondness to her voice. "I noticed the too-clean young woman in the courtyard nearly every time she was brave enough to make an appearance. She could hide herself behind dirty rags, but this was a woman who clearly bathed nightly."

Henry wrinkled his nose, suddenly wondering when the last time Emma bathed.

"She may be called the Evil Queen now, but before this war, her innocence could rival Snow's. And one day," Emma began staring down the empty road, "she plucked an apple from a cart and gave it to a hungry child."

"Why is that a bad thing?"

"Are there no thieves in your land?" Questioned Emma.

"Oh." Henry stared on forward.

"Our kingdom isn't famed for their abundance of crops. We ration. We conserve. And we don't steal." The tone in her voice was ominous, and even though he knew Regina was alive and relatively well, he suddenly feared for the younger version of his Mom's life. "The penalty for it is losing the hand that stole it, and a few men had held her down as the merchant got ready to strike."

Henry shifted from his spot. "What did you do?"

"I pushed a fruit cart into the merchant. He fell, his sword swinging, and he knocked down a butcher's vendor." There wasn't a single ounce of regret in her voice. "Regina got away in the chaos, and when the crowd all looked to see who started it, they found me. I wasted a month's supply of food and was captured for putting the village at risk."

"You went to jail?" Henry gawked dumbfounded.

Emma nodded once. "I don't know how long I was in there for, but one day the door opened, and the pretty commoner with a kind heart stepped into it in a dress made of fine silks and the crowned Queen behind her. Regina saw what I did, told her parents, and they released me.

"I became Regina's personal guard from that day on, and after her coronation, I was Captain of her Guard," Emma finished with pride.

Henry laughed in disbelief. It wasn't a football to the head story, but he wouldn't expect anything less from his mothers.

"She wasn't the Evil Queen then?" He asked.

"She was known as Regina, first of her name, the Just Queen. Her first act as Queen was brokering a treaty with the White Kingdom so that we didn't have to ration and conserve every piece of food we had. She never wanted a child to be desperate for an apple or for a commoner to be tried as a traitor for stealing food. It worked, and both kingdoms were prosperous." Emma's face darkened. "Until Snow took over the crown and broke it."

"I thought Snow White was good?" Henry squinted confused.

Emma barked out a laughter. "Just because she didn't send armies to strip our land doesn't mean she's pure of heart. When King Leopold died during Regina's third year as the crowned Queen, Snow took over. She's young, and she can claim ignorance all she wants, but the first thing she did was stop our trade. She argued if we had the strength to have an army to our degree then we wouldn't need her food supplies. Really, she wanted to cripple us during one of the harshest winters in decades and have both kingdoms for herself. It almost worked."

"But Mom—Regina, she's called the Evil Queen?"

Emma looked at him imploringly. "You have to realize that every monarch sits on a throne of blood and that every title is biased. Is she Just or Evil?"

Henry shuddered. He always thought monarchy was about ruling kingdoms and having people love you. Never once did he think there was anything more to it than making laws.

"There were so many times over those months where she would stay awake pacing. She wouldn't eat if her people couldn't, and she offered the courtyard for protection against the winter. We could barely spare an extra blanket let alone an extra ration of food. When we survived the winter, we lost a third of our army and so many of our people grew ill and angry. No one more angry than Regina." The blonde stared off into the distance. "She struck hard."

The battles his blonde mother spoke about seemed like something out of a Lord of the Rings movie. She spoke of villages burned to the ground. Bodies found in the middle of roads as a warning. Strategy plans late into the night. Moles in enemy camps. Henry was thankful he hadn't come to this land in the middle of the war. It was hard enough to get his mothers together in this relatively peaceful time let alone fighting a battle with Snow White.

"Snow had snuck into the castle in the middle of the night. I still haven't figured out how," Emma admitted bitterly. "But before she could even consider heading into Regina's chambers, I found her in the grand entrance. We fought. I had her pinned against the wall with my sword at her neck."

"Then what?"

"Regina came looking for me," the blonde continued. "I remember hearing her footsteps coming down the steps. She was even still in her nightgown. Snow took advantage of my distraction. She used my own dagger to whip it at Regina, and I swear it was going to go right through her heart. For a moment, I saw her crumpling to the ground, blood on the concrete, dying."

Emma's voice trailed off as if she could see it all over again, like Regina wasn't alive and well and hadn't just kicked them out of the castle. "She magicked the dagger back to Snow. I knew it was going to make contact, so I pushed her out of the way.

"I've seen Regina order raids through villages and burned down forests in search of Snow, but I have never seen her face so furious." Emma shook her head. "She threw fireball after fireball after us, and I got Snow out of the castle and into the woods. I was going to bring her back, force them to broker another treaty or have Regina imprison her, but she escaped me. Before I knew it, my face was plastered on Wanted signs for treason against the crown."

Henry scrunched up his face. "But what's one more body when you lost Mom in the long run?"

Emma ran a hand through limp blonde locks and frowned. Henry could feel the tension stiffening his blonde mother. Obviously she wondered that too. Finally, she answered. "The right body causes an uproar. Snow has devout followers."

"The ones attacking on the side of the road?" Henry guessed.

She nodded. "I stay at inns like the one you and I slept in because I can hear them plot and plan. If I can interrupt their attack or make the Queen's Guard take a different route then it stems their fire."

"You didn't answer my question."

"If Snow died, then it would cause another war," the blonde said exasperatedly. "More than that, Regina would be targeted and she'd be fighting for her life every day. I could have given Snow's head on a platter, but how long after that until I saw Regina's on a pike? I'm not going to risk her life like that. I—"

"You love her," Henry said simply.

"What?"

He stopped to stare up at his mother. "You'd rather Mom hate you and call you Oath Breaker than see her in the middle of another war where her life is on the line."

"She's my Queen. I swore fealty—"

He barked out a laughter in disbelief before turning back to the path. He didn't understand how two people so meant and devoted to each other could be so thick.

"She's more than that and you know it." She grumbled but otherwise stayed silent. They were quiet for a long moment, Emma winded from the tale and Henry mulling the story over in his thoughts. He finally broke the silence. "Do you still love her?"

Her eyes locked on him, and he knew his mother was fighting some internal battle with herself. He never got his answer.

The smell of smoke drifted over to them, and Emma snapped her head towards the woods and help up a hand. Through the trees, they could see the faintest hint of smoke.

"What—?"

"Shhh." She grabbed Henry's hand and tugged him into the woods towards the source of the fire. His eyes nearly bulged out of his eyes because his mothers had always warned him to go away from any forest fires. He ducked when Emma ducked and jumped over uprooted trees until they reached the outskirts of a small clearing. "Be quiet."

"What is it?" Henry whispered.

"Shhhh."

In the forest sitting in the small clearing were a small group of cloaked figures. A fire was extinguished with sand in the middle of their group as they chatted amongst themselves.

There was Ruby, Henry could see as he peeked over his hiding spot. Though she was the fun waitress back in Storybrooke and the barmaid back in the Howling Moon, now she donned leather pants and a vest under a red cloak. The knives strapped to her thigh made him gulp. There was also Granny and her crossbow strung across her shoulder, and behind her were several short men with pick axes that Henry had seen time to time back home.

A sandy blonde man stepped through the clearing carrying a sword in his closed fist. Henry immediately recognized him as the local vet Mr. David Nolan. He was his teacher's boyfriend. But as he extended his free hand behind him, offering it to the blue-cloaked figure behind him, Henry nearly squeaked.

Ms. Blanchard?!

Ms. Blanchard wasn't his meek fifth grade teacher with cropped black hair and rosy cheeks. Instead, she had long black hair reaching down to her waist. A leather vest and beige pants were switched for the summer dresses she usually wore, but the most startling things she saw was the bow and quiver strapped to her back.

"We're almost there, Snow," David said, though in this world he was probably Prince Charming.

"Snow White?" Henry hissed. He nearly jumped from his hiding spot. Snow White was his teacher?

Emma yanked him down right when Snow and David looked their way. They held their breath, but luckily they remained where they were. Cautiously, they returned to peeping.

Snow nodded and looked to her small band of renegades. "We may not be large in numbers, but if we stick to the plan, we'll be able to attack the Eastern Kingdom and cause a distraction long enough for Charming and I to get into the castle. We have an informant within her guard."

"The Saviour?" Granny questioned.

Both Emma and Henry's ears picked up. Henry looked Emma in an all-too similar way Regina had once looked at her, betrayal and hurt in his eyes. Emma shook her head immediately. "That's not me," she whispered.

"Whatever they call themselves," Snow continued, "they've been proving themselves helpful to us. Providing us with information about the castle, where the Queen's Guards will be taking route. It led us here today."

She held her bow up in the air. "Let's avenge our kingdom!"

The group lifted their weapons in the air and cheered. Gathering their belongings, they raced on foot towards the Eastern Kingdom, back to where Emma and Henry had just left from.

"Shitshitshitshit." Emma leaped up from her hiding spot, her hood falling around her shoulders. Her eyes darted to Henry, and before he knew it, Henry was on his feet and being led back to the dirt road. "Go down the road. You'll find an inn."

Emma cut her coin purse from her side and dropped the small bag of coins into Henry's palm. "You'll be fine there."

Henry paid no mind to the heavy weight in his hand. "You're going after her. I want to come to."

"Go to the inn," Emma urged in a way Henry only heard when his mom needed him to listen.

This wasn't Storybrooke, that much was sure. He knew there was no room he'd be sent to or no home he'd be grounded in. The only chance to that was to follow Emma back to Regina.

"I'm coming," he stated firmly.

She searched his face for a moment longer, but as the sounds of hooves faded in the background, her mind was made up. She grabbed his hand and led them through the woods, back towards the castle. "Keep up."

Regina was many things. The elders in her land still looked at her as if she were Princess Regina, the young and carefree daughter of Cora and Henry who used to sneak into the stables and set the horses free because they deserved more open space. Having to corral all of them personally taught Regina discipline and restraint that day, but the elders just shook their heads fondly. The populace looked at her as Queen Regina, the Saviour, a spin-off of the cloaked mystery person who fought in the name of Snow White. Oh how ironic the name was now. Half of the White Kingdom, however, proclaimed her as the Evil Queen, but she was lucky that the victors wrote the history scrolls. That name would be eradicated if it was the last thing she did.

But there was another title, far more recent that was more than just simply being Regina. In fact, she was only Regina to a certain blonde, but after sending her away that morning Emma was the last thing on her mind. No, the other thing she had been, perhaps once upon a time, in a completely different realm, was a mother.

Mom.

Henry had struggled to call her anything but, and every time he said the three letters that struck deep within her soul, she felt her resolve breaking. The world he spoke of couldn't be real; it was impossible. The child had a wild imagination, she'd give him that. She could almost envision it, the three of them sitting around a table for a meal being a...family.

She shook her head. There was no other world but this one, and Regina had worked tirelessly to bring up this kingdom from its ashes. In this world she may be a Queen, but in another world...

In another world she named her child after her father and Emma had agreed.

The brunette stopped her pacing, glancing around her chambers with a frown. It was the same room Henry had stayed in despite her guards warning her that it would be ill-advised. He could be part of Snow White's plans. Deep down she knew that wasn't the case. He was part of something far greater, and it bothered Regina how much it bothered her still.

True Love's Kiss couldn't possibly be his solution. A kiss shared with her and Emma no less. Her fingers tingled with magic as she remembered the press of the blonde woman's lips against her own. The last time she had felt them was the night before the traitor had shielded Snow from her attack. She paused and took careful steps out to her balcony, dominating over the railing as she looked down at the populace beneath her. She pressed her tingling fingers to her lips and swore they hummed in turn.

What angered her most was that she had believed, if just for a second, that it would work. Henry's little make believe world was real, and one kiss could send him home to where she had a family with them. She was a fool.

They didn't have True Love. They didn't even have love. Not anymore.

"Is something troubling you, Your Majesty?"

Regina turned to hear her Genie's voice sound from the mirror of the vanity. "I'm fine," she said storming back into her chambers.

The Genie cocked an eyebrow, and it was obvious he didn't believe her. Still he continued. "The King of Cyracule has offered you a treaty. He requests a meeting with your presence within a fortnight."

Regina scoffed. "Where was he when we asked his land for help during the war?"

"He fears your power," the Genie agreed.

"As he should." Regina came to sit in front of the vanity, examining the perfume bottles there as if they weren't her own. "Though I wouldn't be surprised to see his allegiance turned as soon as this conflict with Snow is over and done with."

"And is it?" The Genie posed. Regina snapped her head up. "I've noticed your search for Snow White hasn't been as...active as your search for—"

Regina held up a hand, magic radiating off her so intensely even the man in the mirror could feel it. "Perhaps it's because your apparently omniscient brain cannot show me the exact whereabouts of Snow White. You show me her in a meadow, hiding out with some tiny dwarves, and what? This whole land is full of meadows with tiny dwarves."

"Perhaps," the Genie agreed before his smile grew knowingly. "However I know you're familiar with this area."

Without prompt, his face shimmered until the mirror showed the road leading away from her kingdom. There Emma and Henry were, walking down the road away from her. Regina was quick to turn away, standing from the vanity and was about to cover her ears like a petulant child, but the Genie was faster. The image showed itself on every mirror in her room that Regina had no choice but to watch.

"But why did you let Snow go? What's one more body when you lost Mom in the long run?"

"The right body causes an uproar. Snow has devout followers."

"The ones attacking on the side of the road?"

Emma nodded. "I stay at inns like the one you and I slept in because sometimes I can hear them plot and plan. If I can interrupt their attack or make the Queen's Guard take a different route then it stems their fire."

"You didn't answer my question."

"If Snow died, then it would cause another war," the blonde said exasperatedly. "More than that, Regina would be targeted and she'd be fighting for her life every day. I could have given Snow's head on a platter, but how long after that until I saw Regina's on a pike? I'm not going to risk her life like that. I—"

"You love her."

Regina held up a hand, and with a wave of magic, all the images in all the mirrors disappeared. Her eyes were fiery as she stalked back toward her vanity to glare at the Genie within it. "What was the purpose of that?"

"My Queen is troubled," the Genie answered. "I thought perhaps I could provide a little guidance."

"You thought you could purposely goad your Queen."

"Perhaps in my omniscient brain, it's helpful persuasion," he said airily.

"Persuade what?" She hissed. "That she still has a school girl crush on me?"

"Is it really her with the crush still?"

Regina's eyes blazed, and in a heat of fury, she gripped a perfume bottle and threw it at the vanity. The glass shattered, scented oils filling the room with a strong smell, but one broken mirror wasn't going to eliminate the Genie. He simply appeared in a mirror behind her. She gripped another bottle, poised her hand to throw, but stopped. The bottle was familiar in her palm and she put it down with a sneer. "You're not worth it."

With a wave of her hand, the mirror returned to its former glory, and the glass shard of the bottle mended as new. The room still smelled pungent, but there was little she could do about it now. Stalking out of the room, she met Killian who flanked her side. His hook glinted in the light of the sun as his left hand kept a steady hold on the helm of his sword. Together they moved down the staircase and to the throne room where her crier announced her presence. The last thing she wanted to do was hold court, but Queens did what they had to do.

Even with the possibility of having their head on a pike.

She clenched her fist and sat down in front of the long line of villagers with offerings for her table. Putting on a practiced smile, she beckoned the first commoner toward her.

Regina prided herself on being a fair Queen. They didn't call her Regina the Just when she first took the throne for no reason. She listened to the people, that was something her father taught her. Not everyone could be pleased and what was best for the majority was the lesson her mother taught her. Luckily, Regina had been able to apply the best of both worlds, listening to the cries of her kingdom and striving to provide as best as she could. That was where the treaty with the White Kingdom came to life.

But the Just Queen had a hard time listening this afternoon as villager after villager offered her their best silk or handmade trinkets—she'd adamantly refused to accept food so the populace grew creative. Most days Regina would simply accept a song. She couldn't focus on any of the words being said to her at the moment.

Her mind was solely on Emma and what she had overheard.

For two long years, she simmered in anger believing her Captain, her lover, had been aiding Snow White the entire time. How else could the insipid young Queen get into the castle? Hearing the candid speech from the blonde made her blood cool down from the overflowing simmer.

Emma wanted to protect her.

Their private discussion in the library had the younger woman saying as much if Regina really thought about it, but for the first time she was able to think as Emma did and understand her actions. Perhaps the White Kingdom wasn't wrong in calling her Saviour.

"Your Majesty?"

Regina snapped her head up to see a middle-aged man holding the hand of his young boy. She hadn't even realized the change in person, and knew she didn't catch what his request was, but her eyes were drawn to the shy boy hidden behind his father.

"My son here simply wanted to see you," explained the father.

Regina's eyebrows quirked in curiosity. "Hello, little one."

The boy, no more than five years old, grinned sheepishly. His mop of curly red hair nearly hid his striking green eyes, but he tossed his head to reveal them. Regina leaned forward in her throne and smiled.

"He wanted to give you something." His father nudged him away from his leg and toward the Queen.

Regina stood, motioning her guards to stand down when they darted forward, and she took careful steps to the edge of the platform. Her dress rippled at her feet when she knelt down to his eye level and cautioned him forward. The little boy looked up to his father, and after a confirming nod, he took careful steps towards her. In his hand was a folded piece of parchment, and when he reached the Queen, he held it up for her to take.

"I draw you that," he explained when she took it.

Her eyes twinkled with mirth as she took the parchment and opened it up to see the charcoal drawing of herself sitting side-saddle atop a horse. The congregation smiled their adoration as she stared at the child's picture. Even though this simple act was nothing more than this little boy wanting to give her a picture, she couldn't help but wonder if her so-called counterpart in another world received as many pictures like these from Henry.

"Thank you," she whispered with quiet sincerity.

A clank of metal clanged behind her as Killian took a step toward her, urging her up. "Your Majesty, we must carry on."

She fixed him with a glare, far different from the joy her eyes had only moments ago, and when he dutifully stepped back, she turned a smile back to the small boy.

"And what's—?"

A horn blared in the distance, and Regina rose quickly from her spot to gaze out toward the sound. The throne room's windows were far too high for her to truly see anything beyond the hanging banners lining the stone walls, but she, and everyone else in the room, understood the sound of the horn, hadn't heard it in over two years.

A threat was approaching.

"Seal the doors." Regina acted quickly. The doors immediately shut. "Make sure the villagers waiting outside the doors are kept safe. Do not open these ones until whatever we're facing has been dealt with."

The Guard nodded their understanding. The man in front of her swept his son in his arms and followed the congregation of people who were being led down to a secure corner of the room. In a puff of smoke, Regina had disappeared, only to reappear in her chambers and barking at the mirror.

"What is it?" She hissed to the Genie.

The man in the mirror remained quiet, but his eyes darted to the balcony. She stormed to it once more where the blaring horn grew louder and louder. When she reached the railing, she could see the wall surrounding the castle courtyard was rife with activity. Guards moved into position at the top of the wall, and the doors Regina vowed to keep open for the kingdom was being pulled closed. In the distance, sand grew in a small storm, growing larger and larger as it approached.

"That better be the King of Cyracule," Regina growled.

"Think again." The Genie's face shimmered, and it was replaced with who exactly was storming the castle.

Regina sneered when she saw the dwarves Snow White kept with her and that damned wolfish inn-owner. There was a man who was rumoured to be King George's long lost son, and if he was teaming up with Snow, then he clearly had poor taste in women. Snow looked to be leading the pack on a group of pilfered horses. She remained hidden under her blue cloak. For once she kept her weapon of choice off her back.

Regina grinned wickedly as she retreated back to the balcony. The archers lining the wall waited and took aim. When the pack reached the edge of the grounds, they fired. The arrows, every one of them, seemed to be aimed at Snow White, but the second they were about to make contact, a translucent blue globe shimmered around the group like a protective barrier. Even from her distance Regina could detect the mark of fairy magic.

She frowned. "It looks like the young Queen came out ready to fight."

The pack made it through the doors just before they could close, and with a resounding thud, Snow and her pack of renegades were inside her courtyard. Merchants and civilians fled as Guards moved to meet them in combat.

Snow slipped off her horse and drew a sword, drawing in two men from her guard while the rest were preoccupied with the rest of the renegade party.

Regina squinted as she watched the battle from above. There was something different about Snow White. She moved with more grace and less bulk, but two years in the forest couldn't hone that. Not for the young Queen.

The hood slipped, and the shock of long brown hair wasn't that of her nemesis, but her nemesis' pet wolf Red.

It was a distraction they had fallen for.

Regina growled and turned to the Genie. "Where is my Captain?!"

The Queen stormed out of her chambers. She intended to get to the courtyard, and even the playing fields. If Snow's gang wanted to use fairy magic, one flick of her wrist could send that protective barrier around them crashing to the ground.

She didn't make it far. When she turned the corner, she saw Killian heading her way.

"Where have you been?" She hissed. "As Captain of the Guard, you're meant to stay by my side."

"Your Majesty disappeared from the throne room," he explained with irritation. "We have the rest of the guards meeting us to take you to safety."

Regina dismissed him like that fact was trivial. "How did they get inside the courtyard?"

"They have magic protecting them."

"And they broke through the sentries on watch along the kingdom's perimeter?" She shook her head as they marched down the hallway. "Two years, you think you would have learned by now how to protect the cast—"

Regina held her hand up as she passed a corridor, an arrow in her hand and its tip mere inches from her face. Down the darkened corridor she could see the shadow of a bow and the unmistakable lambskin leathers of Snow White. "You."

Before Snow could fire off another arrow, she felt the cool clink of an iron bracelet clasp around her wrist. Her eyes widened, recognizing the magic-hindering bracelet immediately and turning to face her Captain.

"What," she began slowly, "are you doing?"

Killian ducked his head unapologetically as he drew his sword and positioned it right at Regina's throat. His sword poised, he took careful steps in front of the darkened corridor where Snow revealed herself to Regina for the first time since her escape. Her bow was cocked and an arrow already aimed at Regina's chest. The older Queen glared and slowly brought her fist to the ground, the arrow in her grasp threatening to break under her hold.

"The tides are changing, Your Majesty," Killian began arrogantly. "This was meant to be over and done with years ago, but it appeared your precious Emma complicated the plan by turning against you. Better her than me."

"So you auctioned off your knowledge and my head to the highest bidder," Regina drawled, feigning impressed. She looked down to the arrow in her hand with a scoff. "Tell me, what did this child offer you? Land that's not her own? Titles that she cannot give out as freely as she does her body?"

Snow tightened her bow. "You're one to talk. Rumour has it your former Captain was held under a spell all those years she was under you."

Regina's eyes flashed but she remained silent.

"Even the fairies are against you, Regina," Killian added. "Why do you think no harm is coming to them outside in the courtyard?"

"It's Your Majesty," Regina corrected before shaking her head in more irritation than fear. "Just because something is tiny and colourful and full of magic does not make them of pure intention. You're getting yourself in over your head, Snow White. What is it that you're waiting for, dear? End me."

"I need you to stand in front of the Kingdom," Snow began with a steady aim, "and renounce your throne and hand over both kingdoms. After swearing fealty to me, of course."

Regina rolled her eyes. "Go back to the forest, Princess."

"I'm a Queen just as you are," Snow said defiantly. She may have spent the last two years living as a bandit in the forest, scrounging up a pitiful rebellion, but she was still the same princess who didn't understand the logistics of battle.

Regina took a bold step forward, the arrow less than a foot away from her heart and the sword nicking her neck. "Not like me."

"You're bold for someone who has no one coming for her," Snow stated. "You think I've been doing nothing but living off walnuts in the woods. I've been waiting, Regina. Waiting for the day to take this crown and this Kingdom away from you and unite these lands under my name."

Regina laughed. "You'll burn the lands to the ground before your first month is up."

Killian pushed his sword just a bit further, a drop of blood cascading down her neck. "Now now, Regina. Play nice."

Regina wasn't sure who she was more furious with, the insipid little Queen or her former Captain. No doubt he was the reason Snow had snuck into the castle the first time. Why she chose now to believe Emma, to believe that the blonde hadn't been the traitorous one all along was a cruel irony. Without her magic, Regina was exposed and vulnerable. She could handle a bow and arrow just as well as Snow before her, but with both weapons trained on her, for once, she was wholly unprepared.

That didn't mean that she would give in.

That wasn't the way of Regina of the Eastern Kingdom, and that certainly wasn't the way of the Evil Queen. She smirked, red lips tilting up in a knowing and deadly smile.

Before she could do anything, a dagger flew through the air and tore through the arrow cocked in the bow. The surprise startled all three of them as they turned to see a figure in a white cloak. Snow was the only one to truly look confused while Killian curled his lip.

"What are you doing?" Snow gawked at the Saviour. "We have her–"

Another dagger flew at them, this one less confidant but aimed at Killian all the same. Whether it was intentional or sheer dumb luck, the butt of the blade smacked the man behind the back of the head, knocking him unconscious.

Henry peaked out from behind Emma's cloak with a wide grin on his face, but judging by his unapologetic frown, Emma was scolding him from under the hood of the cloak. It was enough of a distraction, however, for Regina to grip Snow's bow from her and toss it down the hallway.

"You brought Henry?" Regina hissed, circling around to keep her distance from Snow while trying to remove the cuff from her wrist.

"Tell me where he got his stubbornness from?" Emma retorted back, advancing toward them.

The younger Queen looked momentarily stunned, and for a brief second, she thought about running for her bow. She thought better of it and reached for her sword at her hip, drawing it in one fluid motion.

There was a clang of metal when Emma held her own sword up, blocking Snow from striking Regina. Her hood fell off in the process, and Snow's eyes widened in recognition.

Emma took advantage of her shock to push her sword forward, thrusting up so that Snow slammed into a wall with a hard thud.

"You protect her now?" Snow hissed.

"Always." Emma swung her sword, but the younger brunette was quick to dodge. She rolled off the wall and put distance between herself and Emma. The blonde kept her in her sights, but she spoke over her shoulder to Henry behind her. "Get that cuff off your Mom."

No sooner was the command out of Emma's mouth did Henry jump into action. He leaped over the man on the ground and rushed to Regina, but before he could take another step, he collided face first into the cement floor. Killian had grabbed his ankle when he started to stir.

"Henry!" Regina yelled, racing toward him.

Emma wanted to look back, wanted to see what had Regina so concerned, but Snow was charging at her, her sword carelessly poised in one hand. The blonde ducked under her, shedding her cloak in the process, before swiping at Snow's back. From this angle she could see Henry, up now and trying frantically to take the cuff off, but whatever magic it possessed was too much for the boy. Killian was on all fours, his good hand blindly reaching for his sword as he tried to gather his senses.

Snow turned, fire in her eyes but a knowing smirk on her face. Emma squinted. She took a breath. Then she turned swiftly to dodge the incoming sword from David who appeared from the corridor behind them.

It was two against one now, and Henry was still struggling with the cuff. Emma engaged both Snow and David in battle, parrying away before jolting forward with a jab. David's right side was weak, and he was near useless whenever her blade touched too closely to Snow. She used that. Purposely jabbing at the White Queen where David nearly pulled her out of the way.

He hissed. Emma's blade slid across his arm, staining his white shirt red.

"Henry, get behind me." Regina's voice sounded somewhere behind the blonde.

Emma looked when she saw Killian stand, wobbly at first but narrowed his gaze to Regina and Henry. It was enough of a distraction for David to charge, but his growing form had Emma ducking and shouldering the man over. He was tossed behind her with a sickening thud.

"Move aside, boy." Killian hissed.

Emma blocked Snow's thrust. She countered and jabbed with one of her own.

Henry visibly shook and held his ground. He wanted to stand in front of his Mom, but Regina wasn't having it. She yanked him behind her, and though she was weaponless and defenseless, the snarl on her lips looked like she was about to remind Killian just who exactly he served.

"Stand down now, Killian, and I'll make sure your death is painless."

"Strong words from the former Queen," he spat.

He brought his sword up, but before he could do anything more than sneer, a small weight jumped on his back.

"Henry!" Both women yelled.

Snow took that moment to slice at Emma's shoulder. A deep red gash bled down the arm of her shirt, but she didn't even register the pain. All she saw was Henry piggy-backing Killian as the man tried to wave him off wildly. Regina was grappling with his hooked hand, trying to keep it away from the boy on his back.

Emma attacked blindly. Whipping her sword down on Snow where the younger Queen could just barely deflect, Emma stormed forward in a rage. Henry and Regina were in trouble and Snow was the only one in her way.

The younger Queen tripped over her own feet, and she turned her head a fraction of an inch to catch her footing. Emma darted forward. She sliced at the back of her knee. Snow cried out in anguish, dropping her sword. Emma caught her, holding her back to her front and held her own sword across the White Queen's neck.

"Let them go, or your head will be sitting next to hers on the castle walls," the blonde threatened.

Killian used a forearm to push Regina away. She clambered to the floor in a heap, but before she could get up, Killian had gripped Henry from over his head and tossed the boy onto the stone floor.

Emma's grip tightened on Snow's neck, and the younger woman squeaked in her arms.

"Regina—"

The brunette was up before Emma could even finish her sentence. Magic or no magic, a fire blazed in Regina's eyes as she did something so brutish and undignified. She punched Killian.

Both Emma and Snow comically dropped their jaws in surprise, the former in adoration and the latter in just unadulterated surprise.

Regina huffed, straightening her dress as if she hadn't just used her fist to knock the man down. His body lay in a heap on the floor for the second time as Regina turned a deadly gaze to Snow still captive in Emma's grasp. Emma could see Regina desperately wanted to check on Henry but the brunette turned a deadly gaze toward the captured Snow.

"Now, Your Majesty," Regina spat stepping over Killian's body, "would you rather my guards kill your tiny army or would you rather kneel in front of the kingdom for—"

It was blur. One minute, there was a glint in Regina's eye, so close to victory that Emma clutched her sword more firmly against Snow's neck ready to strike at her Queen's command. The next minute, Regina stiffened, and the glint in her eye faded to a muted pain.

Regina fell to the floor in a heap as Killian stood behind her, hooked hand bloody. He sneered down at the fallen Queen. "Looks like I didn't miss."

It happened in slow motion, the next few moments moving as if time itself had frozen. The sword Emma held to Snow's throat slashed across the young woman's throat before it was thrown overhead, piercing Killian's chest before the man could even think. As quickly as he had struck Regina, he fell to the ground permanently, sharing the same fate as the White Queen. Emma raced to Regina, kneeling down in the pool of growing blood and pulled the dying monarch into her arms.

Emma's only focus was on Regina.

"No," Emma breathed out, hugging her close. "No, no, no, no, no. No, don't do this Regina."

Regina gasped for breath and winced in pain. Emma used a hand to stem the flow of blood on her back, but she could feel it pooling in her palm and slipping through her fingers like the life leaving the older woman.

"Emma…"

She was crying openly now, hands shaking. "No, Regina, you can't die on me."

"M-mom?" Emma darted her head to see Henry standing up, eyes wide as he took in the bloody scene before him. "M-ma, w-what—what happened?"

Emma couldn't answer him, only shake as she gripped the cuff from Regina's wrist and yanked it off. "G-get help, Henry."

The boy didn't move. He knelt to the ground beside them and shook as his mothers did.

"Heal yourself, Regina," Emma urged, pulling back strands of brown hair away from the Queen's face. Streaks of blood marred her forehead, and Emma whimpered trying to wipe it away. "You're okay. I promise. You're okay—Henry, go get help!"

Henry couldn't move. He fell on top of Regina's stomach, gripping his mother's dress and holding tight as sobs racked his body.

"Emma…" Regina breathed again. Brown eyes that once glinted with a wicked mirth were dull and flat. Her pale hand came up to stroke Emma's jaw, and already Emma could feel it cold against her skin. "I-I'm…"

The blonde caught her hand and squeezed. "No, no you're fine," Emma desperately tried to reassure. She shook her head like she wasn't sure who she was trying to convince. "Snow's dead, she's dead. There's-there's no more war. I did it this time, I promise."

Regina started to laugh before her face contorted in pain. Her eyes grew dull once more and Emma squeezed her hand harder.

"Why can't you heal?" It was Henry's voice this time, muffled against Regina's dress. His only answer was a weak hand stroking gently in his hair.

"Heal, Regina," Emma pleaded behind watery eyes. She sniffed rocked the older woman tighter. "You can heal, and it'll all be over, and, and—" The blonde choked out a sob. "We're not supposed to end like this."

"I-I know," the dying Queen hissed out. She squeezed Emma's hand in her own with every strength of her being. "I know, Emma."

Crumpling, Emma doubled over, engulfing both Henry and Regina in a desperate hug as if in her arms she could stop Regina from dying.

"Stay, Mommy," Henry pleaded against her dress.

"Regina—"

"Emma," the brunette whispered against Emma's cheek. She shut her eyes as her hand started to go limp in Emma's grasp. The blonde held on to her tighter in desperation. "Em-ma…I…I love you."

The blonde nodded frantically gasping for breath against Regina's skin. "I love you. I love you too."

She pulled back for one more look, one final look, at her Queen. Henry pulled up far enough to give the two women their space though his own tears were streaming down his face like a waterfall. Blinking away the tears in her eyes, Emma stared down at the familiar brown eyes that used to twinkle with mischief, burn hot with anger, and grow dark with lust. Now, almond eyes were dimming and all Emma could do was meet Regina the final few spaces between their lips in a soft and sweet kiss.

"Moms, look out!"

Emma turned fast enough to see David standing above them, sword poised and coming down on the family. She held Regina closer and gripped Henry to them, but it was too late. A beam of light whipped across the land just as David's sword hit down, and Emma felt like she was being physically ripped apart from the two people in her arms. The last thing she remembered thinking was that if she was going to die, at least she'd be with her family.

Henry felt groggy. The ground beneath him was hard, and he felt like he hit his head something fierce. He must be in the dungeons, if David had—his eyes snapped open. A white light shone brightly in his eyes. Mom—Mom was dead, and Mama—he sat up quickly.

"Woah, woah there, lad." Henry flinched at the sound of the voice, recognizing Killian Jones. He blinked several times, shielding his eyes from the light only for it to move out of his way when Killian dropped the pen light from his gaze. "There you go. Are you feeling better?"

Henry scurried away from him. No, Killian was dead. He saw the sword through him. "Don't touch me."

"Henry."

His breathing faltered at the soft lithe of a familiar voice. He looked past Killian to see his mothers, Emma cradling Regina much like she had only minutes before. Except this time, Regina wasn't dressed in extravagant dresses, and Emma was in her tank top and sweats. The blonde pressed a cold compress to Regina's forehead where he could see a thin trickle of blood seeping down from a wound under the cloth."Mom! Mama!"

He scrambled over to them, confusion and distress evident on his face. "What happened? What happened to Snow White and Killian? You-you killed them, Mama."

The blonde's eyebrows shot up as she caught eyes with Killian behind her son. The man at least looked unnerved by the claim. She let a hand press against Henry's forehead before feeling around for any bumps on his head. "Shit, kid, are you okay?" She let the cloth rest on Regina's forehead to pull him into a tight hug. "You hit your head pretty hard."

"My head?" He pulled back and felt his forehead, wincing at the bruise there.

"Aye," Killian provided, standing up from the floor. It was then Henry noticed they were back in his Mom's study, the old library books toppled over to the ground. "Your mother heard a thud and came in to find you and Regina knocked out cold. We've been trying to wake you for the past ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?" Henry squinted in confusion.

A soft moaning interrupted his train of thought as his gaze darted to his brunette mother. Emma tensed, shifting so she could properly evaluate her wife.

"Babe," Emma encouraged, wiping away whatever blood remained on her face. "Babe, wake up. You can do it."

Regina's eyes fluttered open, and she winced. Her hand clumsily moved to her forehead, where Emma caught it, letting it fall over the wet cloth still resting there. Emma beamed down at her, releasing a whoosh of breath in relief. "There's my girl."

"Emma," the brunette breathed out. Her gaze settled to her son. "Henry."

"Mom," Henry choked out a sob and dropped on both his mothers, hugging them tightly. "Mom, you're okay. You're okay."

It must have been a hard ten minutes for Emma joined him, squeezing back in the hug. When they finally parted enough to give Regina air, the blonde helped her sit up slowly, keeping the wet cloth on her forehead.

"Do you remember what happened?" Emma asked, her hand stroking up and down Regina's back in gentle comfort.

The brunette shook her head before wincing at the pain. "I-I'm not sure. I had the strangest dream. We were in a castle, and you were a peasant and I was a Queen."

Henry's ears picked up. "Mom was a knight."

"Yes," Regina agreed. Their eyes caught meaningfully, but all Emma did was look relieved that they were okay, psych trauma still outstanding.

"That sounds like real life, babe." Emma helped them both stand, Regina wobbly on her feet while Henry still looked around the room with wide eyes.

How did they get back?

"Ambulance is outside," Killian said thumbing over his shoulder toward the door.

The two women made their way to the door before Emma looked over her shoulder. "Come on, Hen, you too. We gotta make sure your brain is still in there."

"Emma," Regina admonished with a swat to the blonde's chest. "Henry, we need to see if we have any injuries."

"You need stitches," Emma insisted.

Regina scoffed. "I do not."

"You have a hole in your head."

"No, dear," Regina calmly stated. "That would be you."

Despite their banter, Henry could see how tightly they were holding on to one another. The fall obviously scared them something fierce.

He nodded, letting the three adults leave the room first. He examined the books on the ground and picked up the one that had started it all. The weird runes were still on the cover, a warning sign now that he knew what they meant. But it wasn't all real. It had to have been a dream. This was just a book after all, and his mom wasn't dead, and neither was Killian, and as far as he knew Ms. Blanchard was alive. He flipped through the pages of the book, his fingers skimming over the inked markings. A part of him wondered if he would come away with the magic residue his mom—Queen Regina—had showed him. When he looked, there was nothing but a little dust.

"Henry." Killian poked his head back into the room. "Come on, your mothers are waiting."

A part of him wanted to be wary of Deputy Jones, but they weren't in the Enchanted Forest. They were home in Storybrooke. Just like that. It must have been a dream. Just a weird all-too-real dream. He nodded and followed Deputy Jones out of the study, but as he passed the mirror hanging in the hallway, he could have sworn he saw a fading smile and a blue shimmer.