REQUIEM
THREE ♱ The Thing You Love Most

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Cold. It draped over Carmen like a second skin, seeping into the creaky floorboards and biting through the thin blanket tangled around her legs. She sat up, shivering, her pulse slow, ticking a steady beat. For a moment there, she thought it was the chill that had woken her. Or the faint groan of the wind slipping through the cracked window above her bed. But then it came again—that faint, hollow drum at the back of her skull, deep and resonant, tolling.

Her fingers drifted to her temples, massaging in slow circles as her eyes adjusted to the dark. It wasn't a headache, not really... she'd hoped.

Across the town, on Main Street, the clock tower clicked. That's right—the same one that everyone walked past every day, year after year, barely sparing a second glance. The one that had been stubbornly stuck on 8:15, clicked.

♰

ENCHANTED
FOREST.

   Time. A cruel thing. It always had been, and the Evil Queen had learned that firsthand. It didn't pause for grief or grant her moments to reconsider, not even as she stood on the edge of the future she'd been plotting for years. Not even as the clock mercilessly ticked down. And she had no intention of wasting another second. There was much to prepare.

"I shall destroy your happiness," she sneered, venom sharpening her voice as she stood before Snow White and her insipid prince, "if it is the last thing I do."

Her tone didn't waver. It never did. But there was something beneath the surface—a shadow of exhaustion that even she could feel clawing at the edges. Not that she'd ever let them see it. The queen spun on her heel, the heels of her boots clicking against the cold stone as she made her exit.

"HEY!"

Charming's voice rang behind her, commanding. She smirked, almost pitying him for thinking he had a chance. She turned, almost leisurely, just in time to see him hurl his sword toward her. It sang through the air, a feeble attempt to pierce her heart she let them believe she had, and finally let this nonsense be over with. Regina lifted her hand lazily, and with a flick of her wrist, violet smoke enveloped her. The blade missed her entirely as she vanished into the ether, her laughter echoing in their ears.

She reappeared in her chambers, the edges of her form materializing against the backdrop of roaring flames in her hearth. The sword Charming had thrown had not disappeared into nothingness. No, it had followed her, embedding itself into the stone wall opposite her arrival. She eyed it for a moment, her expression betraying nothing but mild amusement.

At the door stood her servant, an older man, holding a silver tray with a single goblet balanced upon it. His shoulders were stiff as he addressed her, "Would you like something to drink, Your Majesty?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her patience hanging by a thread. "Do I look like I need a drink?"

The man wisely said nothing else, retreating as far as he dared, leaving her alone with her thoughts—except for the voice she always seemed to hear when she didn't want to. The Magic Mirror flickered to life, its presence filling the room with an outward hum. "Now, that was an awfully big threat. Destroy everyone's happiness? How do you plan on accomplishing that?"

She stalked to her throne, running her fingers along the curve of the armrest, but not before she took the older man's offer of the goblet. She smirked as she uttered the words that froze the air around her.

"The Dark Curse."

The Mirror stilled as if the words themselves were an incantation. "You said you'd never use it," he reminded her, letting his voice press against her conscience like a heavy hand—well, he was trying to. "You made a deal when you gave away that curse. You traded it away. She won't be happy to see you."

Her eyes narrowed, gaze sharp enough to silence the Mirror at once, "Since when do I care about anyone else's happiness but mine?" She turned to the old man, "Prepare the carriage. We're going to the forbidden fortress." He bowed his head, murmuring apologies as he went to prepare.

"And yet you hesitate," the Mirror murmured after.

"I hesitate for no one."

♰

   The carriage rattled over the winding mountain road, its wheels crunching against the frost-kissed stones. The peaks loomed ahead, jagged shadows clawing at a moonlit sky. Finally, the path curved toward the fortress—a dark, towering silhouette perched like a vulture atop the cliffs.

Maleficent's castle.

The doors groaned open with the agony of ancient wood, their hinges screeching like banshees. The Evil Queen stepped inside, her cape trailing behind her. The air was thick with the cloying scent of dying flowers and the acrid tang of old, restless magic.

"Ah," came a smooth voice as silk and twice as piercing. "How are you, dear?"

Maleficent reclined at the center of the room, lounging in an ornate chair. Her black staff rested in her hands, its sleek design reflecting the flicker of firelight, and at her feet lay a unicorn, its fur chest rising and falling with each snore.

"I'm doing fine," the Queen replied curtly.

"Are you?" Maleficent tilted her head, studying her visitor with lazy interest. "If it were me, I'd be simply tortured watching that flake of Snow so happy." Her lips quirked in a smirk. "Weren't you about her age when you were to be married? Before she ruined it all? Yes, you were."

"Yes," Regina said, her composure crackling ever so slightly, "about the same age you were when that Sleeping Beauty got the best of you, my dear Maleficent."

The jab landed, a glimmer of annoyance flashing in Maleficent's pale eyes, though her smirk only deepened. "I soldiered on, as you will too... hopefully."

"Enough games," Regina rolled her eyes, her patience wearing thin. "You know why I'm here. I need my curse back."

Maleficent's laugh echoed through the hall, "It's not yours anymore. A deal's a deal. I traded you my sleeping curse."

"Which failed," she snapped. "Undone by a simple kiss. Now please, return what's mine."

"The Dark Curse? Really? You must know that not even its unholy power can bring your loved one back from the dead." Maleficent leaned forward a little, "Have you considered a pet? They can be quite comforting." Her fingers brushed along the scaled spine of her unicorn, which let out a soft, rumbling hum.

The Queen's mouth twisted into a grim smile, "The only comfort for me is Snow White's suffering."

"Well, it's her wedding night. I doubt she's suffering right now."

"I need that curse," Regina spoke through gritted teeth as her eyes fell on the staff. "I know you keep it hidden in the orb above your staff."

Maleficent's amusement dimmed, replaced by a guarded intensity. "Hidden for the good of all, old friend. Whoever created that monstrosity makes the two of us look positively... moral. Who did give it to you?"

"Where I got it is none of your concern," Regina replied smoothly. Her gaze drifted to the crackling fire, it beginning to rumble as she walked closer, "Hand it back."

Maleficent sighed heavily, rising from her chair with a languid grace, "Must we do this?"

"Alas, we must."

The Queen's hand flicked toward the fire, and flames leaped into her palm, swirling into a twisting serpent of light. Maleficent raised her staff just in time to deflect the burning assault, the magic as if it were made of glass colliding in an explosion of sparks.

But Regina wasn't done. With another wave of her hand, the air around them shimmered as shards of metal—daggers, chains, fractured blades—tore free from the walls, hovering in midair. Maleficent's creature stirred, letting out a low sound of alert, catching Regina's attention. She only smirked, seeing the creature as an opportunity for leverage.

All the blades tilted in the direction of it, but Maleficent warned, stepping in front of the beast, her staff raised protectively.

Regina chuckled, unrelenting, and snapped her fingers. The chandelier above them groaned, its chains snapping as it plummeted toward the dragon queen. And Maleficent was too slow this time around. The metal crashed down around her, its chains snaking around her arms and torso, pinning her in place.

The Evil Queen stepped forward and knelt to pick up the staff. Her fingers curled around it, reverent and triumphant. "Love is weakness, Maleficent. I thought you knew that."

Maleficent struggled against the chains, "If you're going to kill me, kill me."

"Why would I do that? You're my friend."

"Don't do this..." Maleficent's voice wavered, a note of desperation seeping through. "This... curse. There are lines even we shouldn't cross." But Regina wasn't listening as she struck the orb against the floor. The glass shattered, and the scroll within tumbled free. "All power comes with a price. Enacting it will take a terrible toll. It will leave an emptiness inside you. A void you will never be able to fill."

The woman's lips twitched into a cold, lifeless smile. "So be it."

♰

The curse didn't work. Not the first time, with the heart of her most precious steed. Not the second time, with the heart of her father. She'd slaughtered him herself, her hands still sticky with his warmth when she whispered, I'm sorry. But magic didn't care about apologies. So what the hell was she doing wrong? There was only one person who could tell her—the one who gave her the curse in the first place.

Rumplestiltskin.

In the dungeon where the man was being held was filled with mice of every color—brown, white, and black—munching on half-eaten fruit as one, in particular, skippered its way across the ground to the outside of the cell, squeaking, and Rumplestiltskin smirked, his voice low. "It's just us, dearie. You can show yourself."

Then, in a stream of black smoke, the mouse morphed into the Queen, the woman—once in her natural human form—cracking her neck, letting out a sigh as Rumplestiltskin clapped his hands together, his laughter high and sharp. Though, she grimaced. She hated this place. Hated the smell of rot, the way it clung to the stone walls.

Her eyes narrowed, "The curse you gave me. It's not working."

Rumplestiltskin tilted his head, his yellow eyes glittering like coins under torchlight. "Oh, so worried. So, so worried." He sang, a grin spreading across his face. "Just like Snow and her lovely new husband."

She froze. Her nails bit deeper into her palm, enough to leave marks. "What?"

"They paid me a visit as well." The grin never left his face as he skipped over to the bars. "They were very anxious about you and the curse."

She surged forward, "What did you tell them?"

"The truth. That nothing can stop the Darkness." His words hung in the air, cold and absolute. She let herself savor them, let her lips curl into a slow, victorious smile... "—except, of course, their unborn child." Her smile fell instantly. "You see, no matter how powerful, all curses can be broken. Their child is the key. Of course, the curse has to be enacted first."

Her teeth clenched. "Tell me what I did wrong."

"For that..." he tapped a long, claw-like nail against the iron bar, "....there's a price."

Her lips thinned. Of course, there was. There was always a price. "What do you want?"

His eyes gleamed. "Simple. In this new land, I want comfort. I want a good life."

"Fine. You'll have an estate. Be rich," she told him quickly.

"I wasn't finished." He shook his head. "There's more."

"There always is with you."

"In this new land, should I ever come to you for any reason, you must heed my every request. You must do whatever I say. So long as I say..." he grinned even wider, if that were possible, a laugh beginning to rumble in his chest, "...please."

Her face was unmoving. "You do realize that should I succeed, you won't remember any of this?"

"Oh, well, then what's the harm?" He shrugged.

"Deal," she smiled. "What must I do to enact this curse?"

"You need to sacrifice a heart."

"I sacrificed my prized steed."

Rumplestiltskin's glee vanished quickly and he was at the bars in a blink of an eye, grabbing the woman's chin in his hand, "A horse? This is the curse to end all curses. You think a horse is gonna do? Great power requires great sacrifice. The heart you need must come from something far more precious."

"Tell me what will suffice."

The grin on his lips was even more cruel and taunting now. "The heart of the thing you love most."

She grabbed his arm, her chin breaking free from his grasp as she gritted through her teeth, "What I love most died because of Snow White." She blinked. "I already killed my father."

He pouted as he stroked her cheek, "Is there no one else you truly love besides daddy dearest?" The woman clenched her jaw to hide the hitch of breath caught in her throat, and for a split second, an image flashed in her mind. An image that she was just as quick to push down, locked away deep inside where all forbidden things lived. Rumplestiltskin watched her in amusement, "This curse isn't going to be easy. Vengeance never is, dearie. You have to ask yourself a simple question: how far are you willing to go?"

She took a step closer, eyes never leaving his, showing him the determination that rested behind her eyes. "As far as it takes."

"Then please don't waste everyone's time and just do it. You know what you love. Now go kill it."

♰

The castle was colder than ever. The kind of cold that seeped into your marrow and settled there, unforgiving. The only sound breaking the silence was the echo of the Evil Queen's heels on the marble floors, each click sharper than the last. Her conversation with Rumplestiltskin looped in her mind, a wicked symphony she couldn't silence. The heart of the thing you love most. She clenched her fists. She wouldn't admit it—not to him, not even to herself—but the words had teeth. And they were tearing her apart.

The heavy doors to her private quarters groaned in protest as she pushed them open, stepping inside with a force that sent the flames of the dim sconces flickering. She slammed the doors shut behind her, the sound reverberating through the hollow halls.

It was almost as if she wanted to be found. To be bothered.

"Your Majesty."

The voice was calm, measured—almost too calm. It came from the shadowed corner of the room. Regina turned sharply, her gaze slicing through the dim light until she saw her.

The Seer.

Carmen stood near the window, her outline illuminated by the silver glow of the moon. Her hair cascaded in loose, dark waves, and her stance was relaxed—too relaxed for someone who shouldn't have been there. Her hands rested lightly at her sides, but her eyes were sharp, watchful.

"What are you doing here?" The Queen's voice cracked like a whip, low and venomous.

Carmen didn't flinch. "Waiting." Her voice was steady, and a challenge in her tone. She stepped away from the window, moving closer. "I wanted to see how far you'd go."

The Queen's lip curled. "How presumptuous."

"And yet, here I am," she tilted her head, a faint smirk pulling at her lips. "I'd say you're predictable, but that would be giving you too much credit."

Regina's patience snapped. She stalked toward the fireplace, her fingers twitching as she ignited the wood with a flick of her wrist, casting an amber glow across her face. "If you think you can bait me into talking, you're wasting your time." She said as her back was now to Carmen.

"I think you're already talking," Carmen countered, her boots whispering against the floor as she moved closer. "Something's wrong. Anyone with half a brain can see it. Rumplestiltskin got to you, didn't he?"

Regina's laugh was low, humorless. "Do you ever stop talking?"

"Do you ever stop pretending?" Carmen shot back.

The Queen spun to face her, the firelight dancing in her dark eyes. "You think you know me?" She hissed. "You think you can waltz into my chambers, throw your little accusations around, and what—save me? Enlighten me?"

"I think you're scared," Carmen said bluntly, her voice quieter now, but no less resolute. "And I think that fear is making you stupid."

Regina took a step closer, her anger a living thing, coiling around her. "Watch your tone."

Carmen didn't back down. "Why? Afraid I'll hit a nerve? If you don't want to talk, fine by me. But don't stand here and tell me Rumplestiltskin has all the answers. Because if he did, you wouldn't look like you've just crawled out of hell." Regina froze, her lips parting slightly as if to speak. But the words didn't come. Carmen pressed on. "What did he tell you?"

The Queen's gaze hardened. "It doesn't matter. I will cast this curse."

"Clearly it does."

Regina clenched her jaw, as her shoulder slouched. And her voice dropped to a whisper, as though saying the words aloud might make them more real. "To cast the curse, I need the heart of the thing I love most."

And the silence that followed was deafening.

Carmen's breath hitched, but she recovered quickly, her face betraying nothing. She met Regina's gaze with a quiet defiance, "And you think that's me."

The Queen didn't answer. She didn't have to.

"I see," Carmen said after a long moment. "So that's it, then. You're going to kill me because you're too much of a coward to find another way."

Regina's eyes glared with anger—or maybe guilt. It was hard to tell. "You don't understand. That's the way it was wr—"

"—I understand perfectly." Carmen cut her off, stepping closer, her tone sharpening. "You're so desperate to prove yourself, to hurt Snow White, to get your damn happy ending, that you're willing to destroy the one thing standing between you and complete emptiness." She was staring into the woman's eyes, searching for anything, but she couldn't find anything.

For a moment, Regina looked as if she might crumble. She reached for Carmen then, her fingers curling around her arm, pulling her close—not in anger, but in something else entirely. "Carmen..." her voice was a whisper, broken and unsure as her face rested in the crook of the brunette's neck, smelling that smell—wildflowers.

Carmen stilled, her body taut with tension, but she didn't pull away. "You don't have to do this," she murmured.

But Regina's grip tightened, her breath uneven. She looked at Carmen then—really looked at her—and for a fleeting moment, her veil slipped. There was something raw and vulnerable in her gaze, something that made Carmen's chest ache despite herself.

"I'm so sorry," Regina whispered.

Carmen opened her mouth to reply, but before she could speak, the pain came. Intense and rasping, it tore through her chest as Regina's hand plunged inside. The last thing she saw was Regina's face, pale and haunted, as her heart—warm and fragile—rested in the Queen's trembling hand.

And in that moment, Regina knew she crossed the line. She had destroyed the only thing she had left to lose. For her happy ending.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ♰

me the whole time writing this chapter:

i cried. so much at the end while writing it && now looking back, it doesn't seem like a lot to hit u like a train but it did me okay 😃

this chapter was regina based and i thoroughly enjoyed it ... when it wasn't kicking my ass to write it. so no storybrooke scenes aside from the very beginning. and yes, regina killed her father before it came Carmen's turn bc well bc 🧍🏽‍♀️but still i hope u guys enjoyed !! <333