Two-Shot inspired by Sarah Jeffery's Queen of Mean song from Descendants 3.

Part One

I followed all the rules,

I drew inside all the lines.

Nera's POV

Once upon a time… That's how things always begin, isn't it? Well, once upon a time, my life was peaceful, one may even call it serene or idyllic...

It began in a small village settled among the forest lands and admits the rolling hills and winding rivers of what would later be known as Mystic Falls, Virginia.

Village life growing up was quiet, unspoiled by bloodshed or violence that other villages and clans often fell prey to; at times, it was even monotonous and tedious, the same routine and the same simple life day in and day out.

But, it was my village.

You see, I was the daughter of the village chief, born from generations of village leaders, and this village was to be my responsibility when the time came; a responsibility that I would gladly embrace when my father saw it fit.

I was four when the Mikaelsons came with their clan, warriors, seeking to conquer and seeking their own land.

For my own safety, my father sent me to live with my mother's sister in her own village, removed enough from his lineage, from my birthright, that no one would be the wiser, only my father's seal hidden in my things as a reminder of a past I had to leave behind.

It was never a war we were going to win, and I saw as my parents died, and my own people were conquered, the lands turned bloody and choked with smoke, the only truth I knew being what my aunt told me, and the vision of burning flames which I saw as my aunt carried me away from my home.

I never asked for anything that wasn't mine,

I waited patiently for my time.

My life changed after that moment, although life with my aunt was much the same, her village not all that different from my own, and the memories of my parents fading quickly from my mind with each passing year; in a way, I was lucky, for the innocence of my youth protected me from the horrors and kept me ignorant of all that had occurred, the memories I did have sustained only by mother's sister, left to burn within me like a flickering ember.

I was eight when I met Elijah Mikaelson, walking alongside the stream picking herbs for my aunt, though she never let me wander far, she still trusted me to do small household tasks; after all, I had a talent many on my mother's side had inherited.

Bushes moved, rustling as if someone or something approached, and in instinct I reached both for the small hunting knife I carried in the folds of my tunic and for my magic that lie under my skin, feeding from Nature and Earth itself.

"Who goes there?" I question, my basket of herbs forgotten beside me. "Show yourself." I demand, though I was sure my voice still quivered under my fear and anxiety.

"My apologies." A voice answers, young, barely older than me. "My father sent me out to hunt. I thought perhaps I may find better conquest out here near the stream." The voice emerges from the bushes to reveal a face barely older than me. "I did not mean to startle you."

"You didn't." I answer primly, now picking up my basket and intent to leave.

"Well, my apologies anyways." The boy replies anyways, catching up to me in merely a few strides. "My name is Elijah…. Elijah Mikaelson."

"Nera." I simply offer.

/

"Nera." Elijah calls, running up to me in the forest, his hair flopping on his forehead as he runs up to where I kneel by the stream's side, a common place to find me picking herbs for my aunt.

"Hello Elijah." I greet, turning to smile at the second oldest Mikaelson.

Despite all the reasons we should not be friends, and my aunt's reservations, a few short years later after the death of my parents, Elijah and I had still had become friends, often meeting in the lands between our villages to play and swap secrets.

"Should you be out here alone? Isn't it dangerous?" Elijah inquires, his sword strapped to his hip. "Father says the wolves are dangerous."

"And don't you know me better than that, Elijah?" I tease in return, my eyes glimmering slightly as I flicks Elijah slightly, my magic shimmering in the air between them and causing Elijah to sway ever so subtly from it.

"You've been practicing." Elijah comments with a subtle smile.

"Of course I have." I offers, a slight hint of pride behind my words; Esther may have believed she was the one to have found my powers, beginning to mentor me, but Esther was blinded by her own hubris, for magic was in the very foundation of Nature and the Earth and I felt it, moreover, Esther wasn't the only witch in the New World. "Your mother seems to think I have some sort of talent." I shrug modestly, turning back to my herb picking.

"Well, my mother does know about such things." Elijah replies.

"I don't know." I simply offer back. "My aunt supposes it is a useful skill to practice." I state; a useful skill indeed, after all, magic came from my mother's side, a long line of witches dating back generations, much like the chieftains on my father's side.

"Perhaps, one day-" Elijah remarks, pausing to pick a wildflower. "You'll be the strongest one of us all." He finishes as he hands it to me, a smile on his face.

But when it finally came,

He called her name.

And now I feel this overwhelming pain,

I mean it's in my veins,

I mean it's in my brain.

Nera had become like family; a second daughter to Esther, another pupil for Esther to mentor in the ways of magic, a sister to Rebekah, even a sister to the rest of the Mikaelson brothers.

In turn, Nera had grown to love the Mikaelson children, each in their own way; Rebekah was the sister she never had, Kol and Niklaus, both younger brothers she never got, even Finn, although he was the most distant out of the Mikaelsons, but Elijah, Nera was sure that she'd never love another more than she loved the second oldest Mikaelson.

Love, however, can make a person blind.

It was a winter's night when Esther gathered her children, and although Nera wasn't one of her own, Esther counted her as part of her family.

"Nera, dear. Please join us. We were just about to sit down." Esther beckons warmly, Nera walking into the hut, the fire brewing in the hearth and the food sitting in the middle of the table.

"I apologize for being late. My aunt wanted me to finish a chore for her." Nera apologizes, nodding to Mikael and then curtsying lightly to Esther as she stands next to the Mikaelson patriarch.

"Nonsense, you aren't late. You are just in time." Esther brushes off. "Sit, sit. Dinner is ready." Esther offers as the two eldest Mikaelsons make room for her at the table.

"I believe Elijah was just about to announce some happy news." Niklaus says, slightly jeering at his brother from across the table, and giving his brother a look.

"In fact, brother, I do…" Elijah gives his younger brother a look, managing to refrain from rolling his eyes as he stands up from the table.

"Oh, do tell us, Elijah." Esther smiles at her second oldest.

"Tatia and I are getting married." Elijah announces without preamble, and with that, Nera's world fell from below her feet.

"Congratulations, brother." Kol says. "You've finally found a woman that can put up with you!" He goads playfully.

"As usual, Kol, your jest is always appreciated." Elijah replies dryly.

"Nera, dear-" Esther speaks, drawing Nera out of her thoughts, though her ears still rung with a sort of hollow feeling, and her heart beat too fast for comfort. "Mikael and I were speaking, and while we already think of you as family, we were hoping that- that perhaps you would become a more permanent part of our family." Esther speaks kindly.

"Wha- what?" Nera questions, her mind not quite understanding what Esther was saying.

"What we mean is- is we were hoping to have you marry Finn." Esther tells Nera.

"I- I-" Nera speaks, unable to form words.

"Nera-" Finn turns to Nera, gently taking her hand in his. "While we may not love each other, I have the deepest respect for you, and I believe that we may learn to love each other in time… And, I would promise to honor and care for you as a husband should." Finn promises.

"Okay." Nera answers, feeling helpless for she had lost the one person she truly loved, so what other options did she have?

"Welcome to the family, Nera." Esther cheers warmly, a smile on her face as she looks at Nera and then her children. "Let's have a toast! To the future." She offers, raising her glass of wine, her children following suit.

I'm kinda like a perfect picture with a broken frame,

I know exactly who to blame.

Nera woke up alone, under the slowly waning sunset as it streaked golden hues across the horizon, the hard ground growing quickly cold beneath her, and dirt and stone digging into her skin and ripped up skirt; muddled memories swarm before her thoughts and clouded her thoughts while her mind struggled to catch up with her surroundings.

Finally, memories of Esther, of Mikael, of a spell, flashed through Nera's mind.

Nera forced herself up, taking quick stock of her surroundings, her mind racing and heart pounding.

Magic was a part of Nature, a part of the Earth, it was a part of her; but now, where it had once been inherent within her, where it had once spoken to her like a whisper in the wind, a solace after a long winter's day, a comfort of a familiar friend, now, Nature, Earth, and magic was silent.

"No- no! It's- it's not possible!" Nera cries, frantically throwing her hands out in front of her as if to cast a spell. "No! No! ESTHER!" Nera screams, falling back to her knees onto the ground, fury and grief calling out to the heavens and gods.

I never thought of myself as mean,

I always thought that I'd be the queen.

And there's no in between.

'Cause if I can't have that,

Then I would be the leader of the dark and the bad.

Now there's a devil on my shoulder,

Where the angels used to be,

And he's calling me the queen.

Nera ran, leaving the New World behind; after all, the Mikaelsons had forgotten her, had left her first, Elijah had passed her over for Tatia, and Esther had only used her for her own gain, taken what was hers but not before turning her into something entirely different.

Well, they would learn to regret it; she was a daughter of a chief, a descendant from a long line of witches, and she was destined for something greater.

Nera traveled alone, through Europe and Asia, learning, gaining strength, and mastering her new powers; in a way what Esther had done had given Nera an independence she would have never had in the small village in the New World, where otherwise she would have been destined to nothing but marriage and the life of rearing children, now Nera had a power that in time, any and all would learn to fear.

In the end it wasn't enough, it would never be enough.

Being nice was my pastime,

But I've been hurt for the last time.

And I won't ever let another person take advantage of me,

The anger burns my skin, third-degree.

Now my blood's boiling hotter than a fiery sea.

There's nobody getting close to me.

They're gonna bow to the Evil Queen.

Your nightmare's my dream,

Just wait until they fall to my wicked scheme.

The African and Middle Eastern Covens were constantly at war, alliances shifted at a whim, foreign enemies easily encroached on their territories, and how easy was it to break apart the bonds even within the covens where loyalty was fragile and easy to manipulate.

Nera sought power, she sought loyalty, and influence; things the Mikaelsons had not shown her in return although she had given it freely in return, loved them like siblings, loved Elijah even more than that.

"Enough!" Nera shouts, her hands thrusting outward, forcing the two covens apart. "Enough…" Nera repeats, her voice only slightly softer.

"Who are you to command us?" One witch demands.

"One who will bring peace… You war with one another. Like dogs fighting over scraps…" Nera turns to them with a slight downturn of her lips, a sneer on her otherwise delicate and aristocratic features. "But you could have peace, prosperity, you could have authority, you could be respected… If you follow me." Nera continues.

"And you are but one person." Another witch protests, several joining in with nods and skeptical looks.

Nera moved, flashing towards one of the witches, within moments behind one of them, her hand pulling their powers from them with the use of her Siphoner powers, boosting the magic she had already drawn from the Earth, before flicking her hand out again, within a moment several witches were on the ground, their neck snapped, and their powers absorbed.

"Any other protests?" Nera questions calmly. "No?" Nera questions rhetorically.

"Good." Nera smiles, her smile cruel and cold, nodding to herself as she watches the covens slowly bend down on their knees to bow to her.

I never thought of myself as mean,

I always thought that I'd be the queen.

And there's no in between.

'Cause if I can't have that,

Then I would be the leader of the dark and the bad.

Now there's a devil on my shoulder,

Where the angels used to be,

And he's calling me the queen (calling me, calling me).

Kol had heard tales of a coven of witches and warlocks, growing both in size and power in Africa, some by hearsay, vampires, a new breed of magic, and he had followed it like a bird following bread crumbs; desperate to regain what he had lost when his mother had turned him centuries before, even if the tales turned out to be just that, tales and stories.

His reception, however, was not well received, and despite his own power as an Original Vampire was easily subdued by the coven he sought.

"Do you know who I am?" Kol spits out, his vampire features hinting just below his eyes as he struggles in vain against the witches who hold him against his will. "When I get-"

"I am well acquainted with who you are, Kol Mikaelson." A voice says, echoing slightly in the room, the crowd of witches and warlocks quickly falling silent and bowing as the hooded figure appears at the head of the crowd, entering the room where the throne sits, and making Kol question just what type of power the figure held over them.

"Hello, Kol Mikaelson…" Nera finally drops her hood, her gaze piercing as she stares at the younger Mikaelson, one she had once had an affinity and kinship with due to their magic.

"Nera." Kol breathes, his body suddenly turning as still as stone.

"What- how?" Kol begins to stumble out, his mind beginning to race with a million questions.

"You are not welcome here, Kol Mikaelson." Nera's expression closes off, her gaze as frigid as ice. "If you and your family are smart, you'll stay away from the Middle East and Africa…"

"Wait, Nera-" Kol tries to speak. "What happened?" He manages to question Nera.

"Your family happened." Nera answers coldly as she begins to turn to leave.

"You'll get this one reminder… This territory is mine. Tell that to your family, Kol Mikaelson." Nera tells Kol before waving her hand and snapping his neck in one swift motion, Nera's distant and callous expression the last thing Kol remembers before darkness takes him.

"Send him back to his family as a reminder." Nera tells her coven.

/

"Nera." Elijah breathes, standing before Nera, her coven hovering along the edges, leery of the Original although Nera was more than formidable to protect herself.

"I believe I left a message with your brother, Elijah Mikaelson." Nera speaks calmly. "You and your family are not welcome here."

"I needed to see you." Elijah tells Nera honestly. "You're alive… After all these centuries."

"I am. Because of your mother." Nera says with no little amount of anger and hatred in her tone. "And no thanks to you."

"Nera-" Elijah steps forward as if to apologize.

"No." Nera halts Elijah with a hand out. "I do not wish to hear apologies or false platitudes. It's too late for that. It's too late for anything, Elijah." Her eyes flash dangerously.

"Now, I believe it's time for you to leave." Nera speaks, her hands flashing as she hurls a flash of magic towards him.