#bandit oq

[somewhereapart]

See the World Hanging Upside Down (Rated M)

When Bandit OQ are trapped in a cave waiting out the Queen's patrol, they find a new way to keep warm. For OQ Happy Ending week, Day 1 (Monday)

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They’ve been holed up together for three days now, and Regina is beginning to think perhaps she’s going insane from hunger. Thirst hasn’t been an issue, thankfully – the snow that’s built up around the mouth of the cave she and Robin Hood have hidden themselves away in provides a handy (if chilly) way to wet their whistles. In the worst of the blizzard, she’d snuck over and pressed herself tightly to the wall, out of sight of the Black Guard patrolling the paths below, and crammed as much snow as she could manage into each of their wineskins.

So dehydration can’t be the cause of her addled mind. Which leaves hunger. The snow keeps them from dying of thirst, but they’ve been subsisting on a few nuts each per day to ration out the sparse handful Robin just happened to have in his pocket when they’d gotten tangled up in each other’s attempts at the same heist (his fault they’d gotten caught; his fault entirely). Her stomach is hollow and growling, and she’s beginning to wonder if maybe she’d be better off just having more of the nuts in one go, once a day. It’s not as if she’s never gone a day on a single meal—she’s done that plenty.

She’s also gone longer than this without food, but acknowledging that right now pokes a hole in her the-hunger-made-me-do-it theory, so acknowledge it she will not.

It has to be the hunger, because why else would she find this arrogant, irritating man so convincing.

He’s a pain in her ass, a thorn in her side, and the last few nights, a surprisingly warm bedfellow. She’d protested it at first—sleeping together like they’ve been—but he’d won her over with logic: it’s simply far too cold on this blustery hilltop not to.

The cave walls protect them from the harsher slaps of wind, but it’s still drafty and frigid. A fire’s smoke would give away their hidey hole, so they can’t do anything for warmth but spend their days and nights curled together beneath his cloak, sharing the warmth of their collective leathers and furs.

Tonight, it’s particularly bitter, and he’s just suggested something ludicrous and… tempting.

“I promise, milady, my intentions are entirely honorable,” Robin tells her, and Regina scoffs and rolls her eyes, but it lacks her usual heat (she blames the pervasive cold).

“I’m not a lady,” she reminds him. “And I’m not going to be tricked into taking my shirt off for you.”

“Not your shirt,” he insists, “just your furs. I’ll put my leather beneath us, we’ll drape your furs over us beneath the cloak. We’ll stay warmer if we can share our body heat more directly.”

She lifts one brow, a low howl of wind making its way into the cave and chasing a shiver through her as she asks, “Does this line usually work on the girls you court?”

“I assure you, I haven’t courted anyone in quite some time, and never by spending several days and nights starving to death in a cave with her,” he retorts, just enough moon reflecting off the snow-covered ground outside and into their little seclusion for her to make out his smirk.

She rolls her eyes, and then the wind blows again, raising goosebumps on her arms; Regina bites her lip and considers.

It wouldn’t be so bad, really. They’d both keep their shirts on, two thin layers of linen between them for modesty, and it’s dark enough in here that she supposes he won’t be able to make out the dark peaks of her nipples beneath her threadbare shirt. She can insist he allow her modesty when the sun is up again, and charming jerk that he is, he’ll probably even respect her wishes.

So Regina relents and sits up more fully from where they’ve been huddled against the cave wall together, her chilly fingers reaching for the fastenings of her vest. Robin Hood does the same, sitting up and untying the leather around his torso, shrugging out of it and spreading it over the stone floor beside them. The moment Regina slips out of her furs, the cold worms in deeper, tightening her nipples to icy points and raising gooseflesh all along her skin.

She shivers as she watches Robin lay down, his torso over the upturned leather (it’s fur-lined, too, she notices, though not nearly as thick as her own). He urges, “Hand me that,” and she reluctantly passes over her fur vest before she lays herself down alongside him, her back to his front. He arranges her vest atop them, and his cloak over that, then burrows down beneath them both and wraps his arms around her middle the way he has the last two nights.

His hands are icy, one settling high on her belly and making her hiss. But the fur above and beneath them is more welcoming than the bare stone had been the two nights prior (not that she’ll ever admit that to him), and it doesn’t take long before she can feel the heat of his body soaking through to her back.

He’d been right. This is warmer.

Her legs are still chilly, even though she presses them snugly against his, her rear nestling tightly into the cradle of his hips and thighs. But her middle is growing warmer by the minute, and it’s not long before she finds herself dozing comfortably, his breath warm against her hair, his chest warm against her back.

.::.

She wakes some time later and isn’t sure why. The night has gone quiet and still, the wind abated, although it’s still dreadfully cold. She’s glad for the extra body heat, sighing softly, shifting just a little, and shutting her eyes again in the hope of sleep.

It’s that sigh and shift that have her realizing what woke her.

There’s a hand cupping her breast and a very telling protuberance making itself known against her backside.

Well then.

She feels herself flush, growing even warmer in their little cocoon, and tries to decide what to do. She should get angry. Should yell and protest, elbow him in the ribs and put as much distance between them as possible.

But she’s cold and clearly delirious with hunger, and his hand has warmed beneath their covers. It feels… nice, to be honest. He’s not demanding anything of her—in fact, she’s fairly certain he’s still asleep. His fingers have simply moulded themselves comfortably around the small curve beneath thin linen and come to rest. She’s heard tell that men have no control over their cocks when they’re sleeping, so his erection is probably a perfectly reasonable reaction to a midnight boob grab. A biological imperative. It would be unkind to judge him for what he does in his sleep, wouldn’t it?

His thumb moves then, rubs over and back across her nipple, igniting a little spark of pleasure like flint on rock. He doesn’t move again, and it fizzles out.

But she’s wide awake now, and hunger-addled of course, which is the only reason that she gives her rear end a little wiggle against his erection.

Robin sighs deeply; his thumb moves again.

Regina bites her lip.

She should not do this. She should eat more nuts. She should… she should fall back asleep is what she should do, and never speak of this again.

Instead, she sighs deeply, her breast filling his palm more fully, her back arching slightly as she does. Robin shifts behind her ever so slightly, his cock grinding into her rear, his fingers pulsing against her breast, his lips smacking quietly before he settles again.

She should not want him to wake. She shouldn’t. When he wakes, this will all end and she likes this. Robin is not the only one who hasn’t been courted lately, and it’s certainly the hunger speaking, but the prospect of being touched in a way that isn’t for protection, a meal, or a roof over her head is oddly alluring.

She wonders what it would be like to lie with a man simply because she wants to, not because she needs something.

She wonders what it would be like to lie with Robin Hood.

She wiggles again.

He wakes this time—she can tell the instant he does, because he goes stiff behind her, lets out this quiet noise like a little grunt or a subtle clearing of throat, and then his hand starts to slide away from her breast.

Regina steals up the courage to whisper into the dark, “It’s alright where it was.”

“Mm?” he hums, and she licks her lips and swallows nervously.

“Your hand,” she breathes. “You can... leave it if you like.”

It sinks back more fully against her, cups her lightly once again, but Robin still asks, “‘M I ‘wake?”

Regina snorts quietly and asks, “Do you often dream of groping me?”

He swallows and rasps, “Yes, actually,” throwing her for a loop.

Regina lets out a tiny “oh.” He may be irritatingly handsome, but she’s… just herself. She’s never imagined herself for the kind of woman that men dream of touching. That she might be to Robin Hood has her feeling quite… silly. And also rather… warm. And appreciative.

It must also have her feeling rather bold, because she clears her throat softly and whispers into the dark, “How so?”

“Hmm?”

God, he’s obtuse.

And she’s not that bold, it turns out because her cheeks are flushing, and she’s murmuring, “Nevermind,” but his hand doesn’t leave her breast. Instead she feels it twitch slightly and then shift, his fingers spreading a little and then closing again, a tender, tentative knead that has her lips parting, her tongue creeping out to dampen them.

She doesn’t protest, but doesn’t encourage.

Until he does it again a nearly full minute later.

Then she breathes in deeply, and presses her hips back against his again, murmuring quietly, “It’s important that we stay warm…”

Robin’s chest shakes softly against her back, his breath warm in her hair as he murmurs, “So it is. Does that mean you wish me not to stop?”

“It’s nice to be touched…”

“Are you awake, milady?” he teases, and her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“Very much so. Your hard-on prodded me from my nap.”

“Sorry,” he murmurs, pulling his hips back a little and simultaneously pressing his lips to her shoulder for a brief kiss. It’s the kiss more than the cold that makes her shiver, she thinks, but she chases his hips with hers and murmurs something about him robbing her of much needed warmth.

Robin molds himself to her again, his arm tightening to pull her more snugly against him.

“I thought it bothered you.”

“No... Just woke me. And led my mind down a scandalous garden path.”

Robin snickers at that and tightens his hold on her, grinds his stiff cock more soundly against her backside and teases, “Oh, did it?”

“Mm. It’s been some time since I’ve been with a man. Even longer since it was for desire and not... lodging, or to barter freedom from capture, or a hot meal when I didn’t have the coin.”

He’s quiet for a moment and then says, “You shouldn’t have to trade your body for those things.”

“It’s alright.”

“Stay with my men. The Queen’s guards have surely found your log anyway—“

“No thanks to you,” she points out, but he only keeps speaking.

“And you’ll have protection and a tent over your head. Food in your belly.”

“And somewhere for you and your men to stick your cocks in from time to time?” she wonders with an accusing air. In her experience, lodging with men never comes entirely free.

“I just told you that’s not a fair trade, not in my mind. And my men are good, decent fellows. They’ll not bother you.”

“I work alone.”

“But you needn’t. Join my company. I’d like to get to know you better.”

“I very much doubt that.”

“Regina, I’ve spent nearly three days now stuck in this hole with you, and it’s the best time I’ve had in weeks. I quite like you, you know.”

He’s not as stiff as he once was, his cock’s gone half-soft while they’ve been talking. So she presses against him again and teases, “Only when you’re asleep, it seems.”

Robin chuckles, gives her breast a squeeze and says, “I assure you that’s not the case, milady.”

She turns then, rolls onto her back and tilts her face toward his in the dark. “Can I consider your offer?”

“I wish you would,” he tells her warmly, and he’s closer now, somehow, his breath washing her cheek as he speaks.

She screws up the courage to ask, “Will you lie with me tonight? While I mull it over?”

She doesn’t expect his sigh of regret. “I think it’s rather too cold to remove our breeches. But…”

His hand moves southward, leaving her breast and coasting down her belly until it tucks itself boldly between her thighs and gives a firm rub that sparks everything inside her to flame. She gasps softly and feels his lips hovering against hers; she closes her mouth in a kiss as he gives another slow, intimate rub.

“I think,” he murmurs before another soft kiss, “that we could find a way to keep our warmth and satisfy our desires. If it would please milady.”

“It would, very much,” she gasps, already panting lightly in anticipation.

His mouth is on her again in an instant.

They kiss and kiss, and it’s heady and thrilling. Almost better than the way he touches her, because touch she’s had, but these desirous kisses are something new. Breeches don’t come off, but they do fall open, their laces falling prey to anxious fumbling fingers until they’re both touching intimately. He’s found a warm, damp place to tuck his away, making her gasp and sigh as her own hands wrap around the thick length of him.

She’s had men his size before and not enjoyed it, but with the spot he’s just found and the way it makes her legs go jelly-like with pleasure, she thinks she might enjoy Robin Hood. She’s never been so slick and hot, so dizzyingly distracted by pleasure.

She blames the hunger, right up until the moment he delves deeper and a finger dips inside her and crooks just so. Her own fall slack around him as she strangles an eager moan, her jaw dropping.

He keeps it up, one finger hooked perfectly, his palm against her, stirring her to bliss, and soon her legs are quaking, her breath labored, her hand working him only absently as she feels the pressure build and build between her thighs.

She gasps his name into the dark, and he lets loose a low groan and then a whispered, “Gods above, I want you so desperately.”

That makes two of them, and she’s plenty warm now, so she does a foolish thing and reaches down. Pushes his hand away, out, and rolls until her back is to him again before wriggling her breeches down to her thighs and inviting, “Then have me. Please.”

He asks if she’s certain, and she wants to laugh. She’s never been more certain.

His chivalrous hesitation is short lived, though, and soon enough she feels his seeking cock. She reaches down to help guide him home, and it turns out she’s right—when he presses into her, filling her up, she feels nothing but a deep, throbbing pleasure.

His first few thrusts are slow and cautious, his breath heavy in her hair, but then he picks up pace, faster, faster, until both of them are muffling themselves to keep from crying out as their hips collide again and again.

It wouldn’t do to give themselves away and die before they can finish.

Not when it feels this good, and not when his hand has found her breast again, his fingers plucking, squeezing, rolling in a way that makes her turn and bite against the arm he has tucked beneath her head.

It’s enough, all she needs, and in a moment she’s crying out into his forearm as everything inside her seizes blissfully. He moans into her hair and fucks her harder, deeper, better for a few firm thrusts and then he’s gone from her.

He pulls out of her with a groan and half turns away, and she feels suddenly bereft and lonely and a bit confused—until she hears his groan of completion a second later and realizes he’d only been being considerate.

She smirks a little at the sound and the heavy panting that follows, reaching down and tugging her breeches back up, but not bothering yet with the laces. Instead she rolls and curls tentatively against his chest, flushing with a warmth born of something other than physical pleasure when he scoops an arm around her shoulder and holds her close against him, his free arm adjusting their furs and cape to cocoon them once again.

They don’t speak, and she thinks she likes that, because it’s always awkward after. She’s perfectly fine with the silence of the night and the whoosh of their labored breathing as it settles and his soft kisses around her hairline.

She can still feel the echoes of pleasure in her bones when she slips into slumber.

.::.

She wakes wondering if it had been a dream, Robin curled around her back again—a shift she has no recollection of. But his hand is cupping her breast again, his thumb rubbing idly back and force across it, his fingers kneading her lazily, and when she sighs and opens her eyes, he greets her with a raspy, “Good morning, lovely.”

Regina smiles. Definitely not a dream.

She murmurs a good morning of her own and sighs, eyes dropping shut as she enjoys his touch.

“You know…” he speaks softly, cups one breast and then the other in turn, “I think I neglected these in our haste last night.”

“A terrible oversight,” she snickers. “One you’ll have to rectify when we return to your camp.”

He stills, his voice full of hope as he says, “You’ll come, then?”

Regina turns, takes in his features in the soft light of morning, and nods. “I’m tired of being hungry and alone…”

Her arm winds around his middle, their legs tangle, and she adds, “And I’d like to get to know you too, Robin Hood.”

They lose themselves then, in kisses and soft touches, and neither ever finds themselves lonely again.

[ninzied]

Freeing [Bandit OQ]

For OQ Happy Ending Week on Twitter. Day 1: Bandit OQ.

A drabble.

She never thought she would have this.

The wind through her hair, his warmth behind her sun-blinding—

(She closes her eyes, as Robin closes his arms more tightly around her.)

—the world rocking with each hoof to stone, and spreading, endless, there to be touched.

Distant shouting, clumsy noises of armor, and then his rough-throated whisper, teasing her ear: “I think we can outrun them, don’t you?”

Regina opens her eyes – smiling to feel him kiss her hair, breathe her in while she adjusts her grip on the reins – and then there’s nothing left for them to do but fly.

[gray-autumn-sky]

One Day - Bandit OQ, Happy Ending Week Day 1 (Monday)

When Regina has a near encounter with Leopold, Robin is compelled to share his feelings for her.

The fire pit at the center of the camp crackles and pops as she sinks down onto a log in front of it, breathing in the smoky smell and doing her best to enjoy the warmth it brings as she reminds herself of why she joined Robin Hood and his band of Merry Men, reminding herself that what happened that afternoon was just a fluke.

Since joining them, she wasn’t often alone--something that proved to be both a blessing and a curse--and that afternoon, they’d gone out on a hunt. Winter was coming and they needed to stock up and prepare to hunker down for the winter. She’d spent her morning collecting berries to boil into jams and though they’d asked if she wanted to tag along, she was already elbow deep in a pot of wild blueberries. She told them she wanted to finish what she started, and truthfully, she was glad for a little time to herself.

As the jam cooked over the open fire, she’d collected more wood to help smoke whatever fish and meat the men returned with, and she put it in a heap next to the smokehouse. When the pot of blueberry jam was cooked, she moved onto the next of raspberries, letting the first cool off to the side of the fire as she mended her coat and socks, and by the time second pot was through, she’d already poured the first into jars.

She’d looked around a bit aimlessly. She’d gotten used to the hustle and bustle of the camp, and she’d gotten used to the company. It felt strange being on her own--and then, a little grin edged onto her lips as an idea bubbled up inside of her.

It wasn’t long before she was at the riverbank, stripped down to nothing as she floated in the cool water. There wasn’t much that she missed about her former life, but she missed the chance to have regular baths. When she was a little girl her nanny bought her scented soaps and would brush her hair for hours after her baths, and in that time, her worries seemed to just float away…

And that’s when she heard the trumpets.

Her heart nearly stopped as she hurried behind a fallen branch, doing her best to stay silent and afloat as the king’s carriage rounded a bend--and though she didn’t believe in a higher power, she found herself praying to any and all that might take pity on her.

But they hadn’t, and the carriage came to a stop along the river.

She tensed as as King Leopold got out. He and another man led the horses to the edge of the river to drink, and she shed her breath as he took a few steps toward her. She sank lower until her shoulders were submerged and tears of worry burned in her eyes as she thought about what would happen if he found her--and then, a twig snapped in the grass behind her.

She whirled around, sending ripples through the water, certain she’d been caught.

But when she turned, she wasn’t facing the king. Instead, Robin was standing at the edge of the bank with his hand outstretched to her. She hesitated for a moment, suddenly very aware of her nakedness, biting down on her lip as her eyes shifted to her clothes on a rock that was dangerously close to the king’s carriage.

Rolling his eyes Robin pulled a blanket from his satchel, looking up momentarily before opening it to her and closing his eyes. Still, she hesitated, but as she heard Leopold laugh out at something his man had said, her heart nearly jumped out of her chest and propelled her out of the water and into the open blanket. Robin wrapped it around her, his arms going with the blanket as he whispered a low I’ve got you in her ear. He offered a wink as he released her, then took her by the hand--and just like that, they disappeared before Leopold could even notice the ripples as they extended to toward him...

“I didn't think anyone would be up,” Robin says as he comes out from his tent, a blanket around his shoulders.

“Oh,” she murmurs, watching him carefully. “I couldn’t sleep.”

He nods. “Same,” he admits as he sits down on the log beside her and holds his hands out over the fire. “I can’t seem to get comfortable.”

“It is chilly.”

He nods. “That’s not it.”

“No?” she asks, swallowing hard as she looks to him, watching as his eyes shift to meet hers.

“You need to--”

“Don’t lecture me,” she cuts in. “I survived quite a while on my own and--” she stops, looking away. She shouldn’t do this. She shouldn’t snap at him. None of what happened was his fault, and if anything, he’d prevented something terrible from happening to her. “Sorry.”

A little grin tugs onto her lips. “Don’t worry about it.” Sighing, she nods and focuses her attention back on the fire. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Without looking at him, she shakes her head. “No,” she lies.

“Regina--”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine. We won’t talk.”

She expects him to leave, but he doesn’t. He just sits there beside her, staring into the fire, watching the flames flicker.

“You’re… not going to go back to bed?”

“No.”

“But--”

“Are you?”

She blinks. “I can’t sleep,” she admits.

“But you don’t want to talk about it.”

She does--and that scares her.

She didn’t have a reason not to trust him, but no matter what he did or said, no matter how kind he was, she couldn’t stifle the little voice in her head that told her to be leery of him. She accepted his kindness, though, and when he’d offered her an invitation to join his band of Merry Men, she’d accepted that, too--but her motives had been self-serving, and still, she kept him at an arm’s length.

Life had taught her that’s what she needed to do to survive and she knew that she was safer in a group than out on her own. The Merry Men welcomed her easily into the group, and sometimes, she found herself wanting to let her guard down--especially where Robin Hood was concerned. But she’d been burned before--burned by those she’d least expected--and each time it happened, it hurt a little more, and regardless of whatever kindness Robin or any of his men extended to her, no matter how many times they told her she was part of their family, she had to protect herself.

Little by little though, that had been getting harder, especially where Robin was concerned. She found herself feeling things she’d long forgotten she could feel and wanting him in ways she’d never wanted another person. He made her smile and laugh; he made her feel safe.

“Why did you get up?”

His brow arches. “I saw you sitting here all alone and…”

“You thought I’d let myself get kidnapped?”

“No,” he’s quick to say. “I just thought you might like the company,” he tells her, shrugging. “Besides, like I said, I couldn’t sleep.”

Chewing at her lip, she hesitates. “W-why not?”

“Because I keep thinking about what might’ve happened had I not heard those trumpets.”

“Oh--”

“And I might’ve lost you.”

At that, she scoffs. “I don’t see how that would affect--”

“I could have lost you without ever getting the chance to tell you how I feel.”

Her lips part and her heart beats a bit faster as a shy little grin edges onto his lips. “What?”

“It’s… not really a secret.”

“Robin--”

“You know that I care about you.”

She nods. “For reasons neither of us can explain.”

“I can,” he admits as he looks back to her. “It’s really not that difficult.”

“No?”

“No,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “In fact, it's quite simple.” She draws in a shaky breath as a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “I’m in love with you.”

“Y-you are?”

He nods. “And I know that you’re...not quite there,” he tells, his voice cautious, her as her eyes widen. “But I’m hoping that one day, you… you might be.”

Her mouth is dry and her heart is racing--and despite that little voice in the back of her head that’s telling her all the ways that this could go wrong, she finds her cheeks flushing as a smile spread across her lips. A little laugh escapes her as she bites down on her lip as their eyes meet. She wants to tell him that’s she’s not as far off as he thinks she is, that she thinks she might love him too, but she can’t quite find the words--so, instead, she pushes herself forward and kisses him, giggling softly against his mouth.

She can tell that he didn’t quite expect her to kiss him, but it doesn't take him long to settle into the kiss. His hand pushes into to her hair as his tongue parts her lips, gently swirling around hers as he breathes her in, filling her with a warmth she hasn’t quite felt before, a warmth that comes with a sense of belonging, a sense of acceptance and what she’s always imagined home might feel like--and when he pulls back, his breath ragged and his smile bright, her walls she’s spent years building up around herself beginning to crumble.

[ourheroregina]

OQ Happy Ending Week - Day 1

Day 1 - Bandit OQ Happy Ending

Nice reading!

Inhaling, Regina opens her eyes slowly.

She has no idea where she is. She does not remember anything except standing up in front of that unknown boy to protect him from getting hurt. What she does remember, however, is the piercing pain that shot through her the moment the sword touched her chest and then everything is a blur.

Confused, Regina lifts her head a bit from the hard pillow but regrets the decision immediately.

Her palms turn into fists as everything around her starts to spin. She tries to breathe through uneasiness and pain that floods her body, her chest shakes with every breath she takes, making her knuckles go white from how hard she’s squeezing her hands.

It’s pure torture.

“Milady,” she hears a voice from above her, a voice that she recognizes and her eyes snap open (she doesn’t recall closing them). For a moment, everything is blurry but then her vision becomes clearer and she catches him, the man who saved her from the Evil Snow, looking at her with relief written all over his handsome face.

She tries to say something but the unbearable pain in her chest forbids her and only a gasp escapes her as she closes her eyes, trying to steady her breathing so that it wouldn’t hurt so much.

“Stay calm, milady,” he says in that annoyingly sweet voice that he probably uses when he talks with small children and she scrunches her nose at him, but even that takes the pain to a higher level. “You were injured pretty badly but the healer cleaned your wound and patched it up,” Robin tells her and she gives him what she hopes is an understanding look, praying he’ll get its meaning.

It seems Robin does get what she means because he only smiles sympathetically at her and squeezes her hand. He stands up then from his chair and walks to the nightstand, puts a washcloth into the water and then brings it to Regina’s forehead.

She hisses as the cold cloth makes contact with her hot skin (she probably has some kind of infection which made her feverish, she thinks) and even that little sound makes the muscles of her body tense, reminding her why she was trying to stay so still in the first place.

“The healer said you are forbidden to leave bed for a few days,” Robin continues to speak, and if Regina wasn’t in so much pain, she would have laughed at his words because she’s pretty sure she’s not capable of lifting one single finger up. “But you’ll fine, milady. I’ll make sure that you’ll survive all of this.”

Robin’s words make Regina frown and she wants to say something, to ask where she is or what happened after she got injured, how he found her but the weakness overtake her body and she falls into unconsciousness where there’s no pain.

(…)

When Regina wakes up next time, she feels better. She still has to open her eyes slowly but when she does, the ceiling above her is no longer turning. Breathing has become a bit easier, only every other inhale makes her grit her teeth from pain.

She smiles to herself as she slowly lifts one hand, then another and it might hurt like a bitch but she can survive that, it’s nothing compared to what she was feeling when she woke up for the first time. She shifts a bit then and tries to sit up.

It turns out to be a huge mistake.

She screams out in pain, can’t help it, and falls back on bed, her whole body shaking. Every breath is an agony, every moment spent not breathing is an agony too and she fists the sheets as hard as she possibly can and tries to breathe, tries to stop the shaking of her body, tries to wait until this pain will lessen.

“Regina!”

Robin’s alarmed voice is heard and it doesn’t take a second until there’s a zipper sound heard and Robin is rushing to her side, his face anxious. She sees a few other men walk into what she finally notices is a tent but she stays focused on Robin’s eyes, those blue eyes that she thinks she was born to gaze into but her faith was cruel - he married another.

“I’m alright,” she manages, her throat sore and scratchy.

It takes a while but the pain finally lessens and turns into something that she can take without squeezing sheets in her hands. She still breathes cautiously, afraid of putting herself into unbearable pain again.

“Are you thirsty?” Robin asks when the men leave the tent, zipping it up and leaving the two of them alone.

Water would be amazing right now but she shakes her head – moving does not sound amazing at all. She watches as Robin takes a chair from the other end of the tent and carries it to Regina’s bed. He sits down on it then and takes her hand in his.

“You scared the hell out of us,” Robin tells her with a small, unsure smile on his face. Regina arches an eyebrow at him – they knew each other for like… one day, and she definitely feels something for him but there’s no way he could feel the same, after all he got married.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice too weak to say words loudly. “I promise to leave your tent as soon as I am able to get out of this bed,” she tells him, feeling guilty. She does not remember the last time someone took care of her and asked for nothing in return or made some cruel things to her.

She’s learned her lessons the hard way and now she’s able to protect herself. She’s not afraid of Robin but she’s not the one to take help from others, she does not trust easily and if the pain wasn’t so bad, she would be on her way now.

“No worries, you can stay here for as long as you need,” he assures her. After a beat, he adds, “Even though we are rivals, we can forget our differences right now, at least until you get better.”

Regina stays quiet, not knowing what else to say.

For a moment they stay in a comfortable silence and Robin takes her hand in his and strokes it, and Regina blames it on some sort of drugs that must be coursing with her blood for making her so damn weak for this thief with deep blue eyes.

Trying to distract herself from the thoughts that should not be invading her mind, she asks, “What happened after I got hurt?”

“Well, the man who did this to you disappeared. The boy you saved took your blood, and you’ll not believe it but he used it as an ink to write something. As soon as he finished, he, the blonde woman and some crazy man disappeared and you were left there bleeding down to death,” he says, squeezing her hand. “Me and my men brought you to our camp, found a healer that saved your life.”

Regina swallows hard, feeling so conflicted and confused at the same time. Her thoughts drift back to this unexplainable pull she felt towards that boy, there was an unknown need to protect him so badly that she didn’t even care about her own life.

The boy is gone now and she’ll never get her answers, so instead she changes the topic.

“Where is your wife?”

“She… disappeared.” Robin frowns, and  then explains, “She ran away right after our wedding ceremony. A few days later I got a letter from her telling me that our marriage was a mistake and that she’s leaving to the West side of the land.”

Regina’s eyes widen in surprise. “A few days later? How long have I been staying here?”

“For about two weeks now, milady.”

Regina gasps at the revelation. Two weeks. She’s been here for two weeks. The air is stuck in her throat as she curses herself over and over again. She’s pretty sure her little home in the middle of the forest now belongs to someone else while she’s laying here hurt and homeless now.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

“I’m so sorry for putting you through all this trouble.” Regina says after a moment, turning to look at Robin who tells her that it was no trouble at all. Still, she assures him, “I promise to pay you for your hospitality and as soon as I’m back on my feet I’ll leave and you’ll never have to see me again.”

Robin doesn’t seem to agree with her but he keeps his thoughts to himself and smiles at her instead, squeezing her hand again in a comforting way.

She could stare into his eyes for the rest of her life.

(…)

Recovering is a hard process.

She tries to get better as quickly as possible but it takes another two weeks for her to finally get out of the bed without screaming out in pain. She can barely eat for the pain most of the time is way too much and that awful scar in the middle of her chest doesn’t make her feel any better either.

After getting out of the bed things become easier. Before she knows it, she’s able to walk without support around the camp of the men who somehow became her friends, and she’s able to eat properly, she can even chuckle without feeling like her insides are being torn apart. Even though getting up from bed, sitting up or standing up still makes tears collect at the corners of her eyes she’s getting better.

She’s finally getting strong enough to leave.

And she tells Robin so one evening when he escorts her to her tent (evenings are not the best part of the day, after a day on feet she barely makes it to bed on her own).

“I think I’m strong enough to live on my own,” she says slowly and she can feel as Robin immediately tenses beside her. They’ve become closer during those weeks she stayed with them, they bonded while talking about thievery and their secret tricks, and Regina would be lying if she said that she’s not sad to leave this camp.

She would be lying if she said that she didn’t developed feelings for this thief.

“Maybe… maybe you could stay?” Robin offers, stopping their slow walk. He turns her aching body a bit so she’s looking directly to his face and for a moment he just looks at her. Then he inhales deeply and stutters, “I… you became a part of our … family, Regina. You’ve become a friend to all of us and I would hate to see you leave us.”

“What are you saying?” She asks, confused.

“You can stay with us.” He tells her, making her eyes turn wide. “You’re a wonderful bandit and we would be honored to have you in our band. You’re also a wonderful friend to me and even if you don’t see it, you helped me to survive the hardest part of my life – being left by a wife is not as simple as it looks.”

“Robin, I could never-“

“Please, think about it,” he asks her, “Don’t give me an answer now. Just think about it.”

“I…” she stares at him at a loss of words, opening her mouth over and over again but no words come out.

Robin smiles at her and wraps his arm around her again, helps her go to bed and lie down. Then he pulls the sheet over her body and takes her hand, squeezes it and tells her that he would love to have her around for the rest of his life.

That night Regina doesn’t sleep. She thinks about all cons and pros of staying with the band of Merry Men, she thinks about what it means to them to take her in permanently – she’s sure Snow White will be not only after Regina, but after them too.

She’s good at being alone and she liked the life that she’s built for herself – a life where she’s a homeless person who barely gets to eat but it was still better than living in the castle with that crazy woman – but now, now she got used to the loud voices of men, to inappropriate jokes and stories around the campfire. She got used to Robin’s arm wrapped around her for support while they walk around the campsite and his forest scent.

She thinks that she’s good at being alone and she can always go back to it if she doesn’t like being in a band of thieves.

And so she tells Robin and this band the first thing in the morning that she’s staying. The reaction she gets from those men surprises her and makes tears collect in her eyes – they all applaud her and hug her and some of them squeeze her too tight making her grit her teeth in pain but she’s still happy, as happy as she has never been before.

And when finally Robin approaches her, he pulls her into his arms but instead of hugging, he presses his lips against hers, surprising her. She doesn’t hesitate and responds, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer, ignoring the pain that rushes through her as their chest press together.

She’s dreamt about this moment for so long now, and it seems that Robin did, too.

And as a group of wild men whistle around them, Regina thinks that this is what a happy life feels like.

In the back of her head she realizes that she’s found her happy ending in the middle of the woods with thieves and criminals, and she could never regret giving up the life that she once had.

[madamqueenregina]

Breeze

Here’s something I wrote a year or so ago, and never posted. I just read it again after all this time and thought, what the hell, I’ll post it. So, here’s some Bandit OQ fluff.

Spring was upon them. No more bundling up with three different layers and nearly starving. No more soggy boots and nights that frosted over. There would be some things of winter he missed, like the moon illuminating the freshly fallen snow or how the forest looked when it was dusted with the first frost. 

A refreshing breeze whipped through the branches of the tree and dandelion spores danced in the wind, some sticking to his tunic as they floated by. Everything was beginning anew and it was Robin’s favorite time of the year. Each Spring felt like a new start, and this one was no different.

Robin looked to the sky, taking note of the sun’s position. It was getting later. They’d have to be heading back soon, but as he looked back before him, he couldn’t bring himself to cut his new wife’s enjoyment short.

She was sitting there, in the middle of the meadow, picking wildflowers and fashioning them into a crown, her hair pushed neatly to one side as she weaved the flower stems together so they’d hold.

It was hard for him to grasp that just several short hours ago, they had been wed. That he had finally, somehow, obtained the love of the woman whom once claimed to hate him and competed endlessly with him. He would admit he had been completely smitten with her from the start, with her messy braid and sharp tongue, even her insults put a smile on his face. Months progressed and one long night, after many whispered confessions, she returned the sentiment. They had been inseparable ever since. And would forever be that way, after today.

His thoughts were broken when he noticed her stand and approach him, flower crown neatly placed on her head and a small smile on her face.

“What’s that face for?” He asked.

“Come here.” She said, extending her hand.

He grasped it and she lead him back to the spot she was once sitting. And then she stopped and sat, encouraging him to do the same. 

She laid down and said, “Lay down and close your eyes.”

Robin arched one brow in question and she simply laughed.

“Trust me. Close your eyes.” She repeated.

He did so.

“Now, wait for the breeze.” She softly instructed.

She leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, too. When the breeze picked up, she asked, “Do you feel it?”

“Feel what, my love?” Robin asked, eyes still closed.

“Complete and total freedom.” She said softly.

Robin opened his eyes and looked to her, eyes shut, a content smile, her hand still clutching his. He lifted his other hand, lightly brushing away a stray curl. She looked up at him then as he turned on his side to see her better.

“When I was a little girl, I used to lay in the small meadow behind the orphanage. While the other little girls were playing princess, I wanted to be out here,” she looked to the sky, “the only place where I felt like I belonged.”

He cupped her cheek and turned her face back towards him.

“You wanted to be a thief and not a princess?” Robin smirked.

She shook her head.

“I didn’t want to be anything, just happy.”

“And are you?”

“I very much am.” She smiled.

He smiled back before leaning down and covering her lips with his. Once he pulled back, he ran his thumb over her cheek lightly.

“As am I. You needn’t worry about your place any longer, Regina, I can assure you that. Your place is right here, in my heart. For however long as you desire.”

She lifted her hand to cover his as her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“Forever.” She whispered.

“Oh, I planned on that.” Robin said.

A wide smile brightened her face as she gave him a quick peck on his lips, then she sat up rather quickly. Robin watched as she began to pluck more flowers.

“And what are you doing now?” He laughed.

“Well, I can’t be the only one with a crown.”

“You’re not going to get me to wear it.” Robin protested. “It looks far more appealing on you.”

“How do you know that if we have nothing to compare?” She raised her brow. Robin sighed.

“If any of my men catch me wearing a flower crown —”

“They won’t.” She smiled, standing and lifting her newly made crown to his head. “This is just for me.”

She stood back and observed her work, scrunching her nose in that adorable way she does and then said, “Perhaps you’re right. It looks far more appealing on me.”

Robin narrowed his eyes and made to grab her, but she picked up her skirts and quickly ran from him back towards the oak they had been nestled under earlier.

“You won’t get far in a dress, milady!” Robin shouted as he ran after her.

“I’ve climbed trees in dresses before! Hardly a challenge!” She shouted back with a wide smile, one Robin wouldn’t ever be able to erase the image of.

She beat him to the tree, but Robin was quick and before she could even begin to scale the tree, he grabbed her by the waist, laughter escaping from her at the contact and he turned her around, pinning her to the trunk of the tree and leaning in close so that their short breaths mingled with each other’s.

Robin finished closing the space between them and kissed her properly. His hand weaving in her dark curls, his other pulling her snuggly against him. She smoothed her hands over his chest, then pushed them up to his shoulders to then wrap her arms around his neck.

A light breeze blew around them, gently tugging at her white dress and making stray strains of her hair whip around their faces. Once apart, they rested their foreheads on each other’s.

Robin knew what the breeze reminded him of, as he looked in front of him. It reminded him of Regina. From this day on, a cool breeze, a hot breeze, any breeze, would remind him of his free-spirited wife and how she belongs to the wind.

[phoenixshine]

Day 2 of the Outlaw Queen Prompt Party @oqpromptparty

153. Bandit!Regina and Robin get captured by Nottingham and have to find a way to get out of the cell

[believingispowerfulmagic]

“Second Chances” Chapter 2:

"Maleficent, can I ask you a question?" Regina asked quietly as the woman cleared away the dishes from their evening meal.

The blonde straightened up, nodding. "Of course."

"If I wanted to talk to the king, where would I find him?" she asked.

Maleficent frowned. "His usually spends all his time in his study but only one person is allowed in there – his chief advisor, John."

"And where is his study?" Regina pressed, desperate to talk to the king sooner rather than later.

"He won't see you," Maleficent told her.

It didn't deter Regina. She continued to plead with the chambermaid. "Please tell me. I need to speak with him. It's very important."

Maleficent sighed. "Fine. Cross the throne room to the East Wing. Go up two flights to the third floor and down the hallway right across from the staircase. At the very end you'll find two doors with the royal crest carved into it. That's the royal study."

Regina took her hands and gave them a squeeze. "Thank you. Do you mind watching Roland for me?"

"Wait, are you going now?" Maleficent asked, alarmed.

"Yes," Regina replied. "I know it's late but I imagine His Majesty doesn't go to bed early. I need to talk to him. It's important."

Maleficent pressed her lips together. "I'll stay with your boy but I don't think you'll be able to talk to His Majesty."

"I'm very persistent," Regina said, thanking Maleficent again. She took a deep breath and left the room, following the directions to the king's study.

In no time, Regina stood in front of two imposing wooden doors. Both were carved with a roaring lion against a shield, which she was certain was the royal crest. She swallowed as she knocked on the door, hoping the king would let her in.

"Enter!" His voice boomed from inside the room and her stomach twisted into a knot. While he had always seemed kind all three times she had spoken with him, this was the first time she was invading his personal space. She didn't know how he would react to that.

She opened the door and entered the room, finding him sitting at a desk. He looked up and frowned. "You're not John."

"No, I'm not," she replied, trying not to fidget with her hands. Stepping forward, she said: "I apologize for disturbing you but I really need to speak with you. It's important."

He looked her over and she held her breath, afraid he was going to throw her out of the room. After a few moments, he closed the book on his desk and stood. He motioned to the table by his fireplace. "Please, have a seat."

She released her breath, joining him at the table. King Robin pulled out a chair for her and she sat down. Once he sat across from her, he clasped his hands together as he asked: "What is troubling you?"

"Your promise to Roland," she replied.

He nodded. Looking in her eyes, he said solemnly: "I meant it. I vow that no harm will come to you while you are in my palace."

"Right," she said slowly. "But how do I know that doesn't mean that once we can leave, Queen Snow White won't be waiting for us just beyond your gates?"

Surprise and hurt filled his eyes. "You think I would do that?"

Regina shrugged. "I don't really know you. And I know all royals and nobles tend to stick together and help each other, no matter who gets hurt."

"Well, that's fair," he allowed, "but I have no great affinity for Queen Snow White. I think what she is doing is abominable."

"Do you know why she is doing it?" she asked, wondering if he knew any part of the story or not. If he knew she was the one was Snow White was looking for and if he didn't, would that change his answer?

She was certain it would.

He tilted his head before standing. She watched as he walked over to his desk, picking up a piece of parchment. King Robin returned to the table, laying it before her. "I suppose it has something to do with you?"

Regina's heart stopped as she looked down at one of the many reward posters Snow White had sent out. A drawing of Regina was placed next to one of Daniel and a lump formed in her throat at the sight of her husband. He had been taken from her a few years earlier and she still missed him every day, wishing he was there with her and Roland.

"Regina?" King Robin asked, his voice gentle. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head, stroking Daniel's picture. "I miss him."

"He's Roland's father," the king said. It was a statement, not a question, but she still nodded. He then asked: "What happened to him?"

"The queen killed him," she replied softly. "And it was my fault. It was all my fault."

A handkerchief appeared in her vision and she looked up, surprised to find he was blurry. She hadn't realized she was crying until that moment. Regina accepted the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. "Thank you."

"You don't have to explain anything to me," he said, his voice soft and low. "You have my word that no harm will come to you while you are in my palace and I extend that to my kingdom."

She tried not to get too hopeful after that promise. While she could just accept it and walk away, she knew he needed to know the full story and be given a chance to rescind his promises. Because it was likely he wouldn't protect her once he knew the truth.

"You deserve to know the truth," she replied. "To know who you are offering sanctuary to."

Continue reading on AO3

[thisisamadhouse]

Keep your memories in a bottle 1/7

A/N: For the OQ Happy Ending Week Day 1. Unbetaed, all mistakes are mine.

AO3 & FF link

Chapter 1

In retrospect, Regina probably should have been more careful with her coronation gifts. She might have been embraced by the people who had once feared hearing her very name, but she knew that there were still a few individuals who had no lost love for her. The bottle of wine had seemed so appealing though, after a long day of niceties and celebrations, that she couldn't resist opening it to enjoy a glass, as she settled comfortably in her armchair on the balcony, relishing in the calm and quiet of the night.

She could feel that something was not quite right just a few moments later, the dizziness so sudden and overpowering that it left little doubt in her mind as to its origin. She tried to get up but she had no balance, and she sent her glass crashing to the floor as she seized both armrests to sit back down, the remaining wine seeping on the stones to form a dark red puddle.

She had to close her eyes, the vertigo too intense to keep them open, and then she lost consciousness.

Regina blinked her eyes open, frowning in confusion, wondering why she was lying on the ground, until the recent events rushed back to her memory: Henry, the boy who had claimed to be her son, and his other mother convincing her to stop Robin Hood's wedding to right their stories -whatever that meant-, their fight with the Ogre Slayer, and putting herself in his way to save the boy, the deadly wound to her stomach and Robin holding onto her hand as she felt her life slipping away…

Robin, who was still looking down at her, smiled through his tears, as he noticed that she was awake. Regina raised her free hand in front of her face, finding it clean of any trace of blood, the unbearable pain from before gone.

"What happened?" She asked him, as he helped her up from the ground, after having checked her over.

"I'm not sure," he replied, keeping her close, even as she seemed to be able to stand on her two feet, though Regina found that she didn't mind. "The young boy used some of your blood to rewrite the story, he called you a hero, a saviour even, and when he was done there was a flash of light, and he, the blonde woman, and that distasteful man disappeared, then your wounds healed. I can't tell you how relieved I was about that part."

She smiled fondly at his heartfelt sincerity, she had not been shown much gratuitous kindness in her life, but with Robin there was no question that it was natural and lacking any kind of ulterior motive.

His eyes clouded over for a moment, and he looked away, still keeping her hands in his warm grip. "I saw you at the church's entrance, as we were saying our vows. I thought that you were going to enter and stop me, but when you didn't…" He trailed off, unable to say the words.

Regina swallowed the lump forming in her throat, and she let go of his hold to cradle his cheeks and catch his gaze.

"I wanted to, I really did, but that boy needed me, I had to save him," she replied.

"I know that now, and given how much I was hoping you would speak up, I should have never gone through with this wedding. Maybe… Maybe, we should try again," Robin offered, and Regina's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"You want me to actually stop your wedding?" She wondered, making him chuckle.

"My bride seems to have run away, so I don't think it could be possible. What I meant was that I would like to make this right."

'Is this your idea of a proposal? Because I find it seriously lacking."

"I shall do this properly then," Robin said, putting one knee on the ground.

"You are actually considering it?" Regina interrupted him. "Are you sure this is what you want? We barely know each other."

"And yet, from the moment I met you, I have thought of little else but you," Robin admitted. "I know that your life has been far from easy, the loneliness, the fear, the hardships. It would be my honor to show you that there is more out there."

Regina tugged him to his feet, shaking her head. "You're insane, Robin Hood."

"Is that a 'Yes'?" He asked, grinning from ear to ear.

She rolled her eyes. "I guess I could do worse," she answered, threading her fingers through the hair at the back of his head to bring him down to her level, and kissed him for the first time.

Regina could still feel the taste of Robin's lips as she regained consciousness, back in her chambers in the reunited Realms. The hallucination, vivid dream, or whatever this was supposed to be, was certainly intended to hurt her, but Regina could never resent any incarnation of Robin she was able to meet, and she just added this memory to the others, reflection of a too short time spent with her soulmate.

She went back inside and considered the bottle of wine, entertaining the thought of throwing it away for only a second before corking it and putting it away.

[redeemedqueen]

“If I’m going to team up with you, I want something worth while out of it.”

Reluctant Allies -- Sentence Starters ♛

“That is a bit demanding, don’t you think?” she snarled, glaring at the outlaw. Robin Hood was her competition, of course he wouldn’t just team up with her without gaining something in return that would serve in his favor. What the hell was she even thinking? “What do you want? A fair share of gold? Forget about it. This heist is my plan, you wouldn’t even know of this opportunity if it wasn’t for me! I can do this without you.”

[cdyssey]

Family [1/3]

Prompt: Set roughly during "The Tower" (3x14) in the Missing Year, Snow accompanies Regina to her family's estate to search for clues about Zelena. The princess is loathe to admit it, but so many events are weighing on her mind—her impending pregnancy, her husband's strange reaction to it, and the fact that she's pretty sure that both he and Regina are lying to her about something or another, but even still, she clings to hope. Snow Queen. Snowing. Pre-OQ.

CW: Suicidal Thoughts | AO3 Link

—

She’s just told David that she’s pregnant, that they’re going to have another child together, and he’s holding her against his chest, and he’s saying all the right things, but none of it feels right. His body is too tense, his calloused fingers stiff where they’re lightly tangled in her long hair, and when she’d first said the words aloud, his eyes had assumed the same wild look of the prey she’d used to guiltily shoot during her bandit days.

Are you not happy?

No.

No, I’m not… I’m thrilled.

But he hadn’t sounded particularly thrilled; he hadn’t looked it either.

She tries her husband again, tests him, gingerly pushing away so she can properly see his face, but when she scrutinizes him closely, there’s nothing amiss as far as she can tell. His smile is appropriately charming, his laugh sure, and with a quick shake of her head, Snow settles into herself again; she justifies, she rationalizes, she believes, and has faith.

He just woke up, she tells herself.

He’s thrilled.

“We’ll build the nursery in Regina’s summer closet,” he jokes, kissing her lightly on the forehead. “That chamber is big enough to be a grown man’s bedroom.”

“She’ll hate that,” Snow can’t help but laugh, always strangely touched by the daily reminder that whatever horrors Regina had inflicted upon them once upon a time, she essentially lives right down the hall from them now—a friend.

Family even.

It is one of the princess’s most distant childhood dreams come true, reified every time she sees her former stepmother sitting in the chair next to hers in the dining hall, just as she had done when they were both so young, the fledgling princess and the beautiful Queen.

Granted, it’s still horribly complicated—as the finer details tend to be with her once mortal enemy. Regina is hurting deeply over the loss of Henry, and time has done little to heal her wounds. Some days, talking to her is like trying to turn a jagged knife into a spoon, and on those days, maybe turning a knife into a spoon would be the far easier task. She invests so much of her energy into sequestering herself away, snapping at people on better days and generously raiding the wine cellar on worse ones, rebuking nearly every effort Snow has put into reaching out to her.

Snow misses Emma and Henry, too, of course—every single day—but she has Charming, and she has faith that they’ll all eventually find each other again. And when they do, there might already be a new addition to their ever growing family. So, yes, the grief is always with her, settled in her stomach like a dull and pervasive ache, but there is also solace in believing in the possibility of a happy ending.

There is hope, and she has to hold on to that elusive but ever shining ideal no matter what; it’s her only defense against the darkness, against the voices that threaten to swirl in her head and tell her that she isn’t enough, that she’s always been a failure, and she’ll never be a good mother. She wasn’t to Emma, and how could she ever be to another—

She has to have hope, or else, well… she’d be down with Regina in the cellar, three bottles deep.

“Good,” Charming grins boyishly, embracing her again, lowering his chin against the crown of her head. But his body still feels like a wooden mannequin against her own, and Snow frowns into the silky fabric of his nightshirt.

“She owes us that, at least,” he continues softly—seriously even—his fingertips flexing restlessly into the thin cotton of her gown.

We’re having a baby.

Regina owes us.

It isn’t lost on Snow that these are conversations that she and her husband have had before.

—

David gets dressed quickly—(rather too quickly, really)—and says that he’s going to head down to debrief with the morning patrol. Go on to breakfast without him. He’ll see her at the daily council meeting afterwards. And he’d given her another crooked smile as he had said it, but this one looked tight on his lips, pale and unnatural.

Something’s weighing on her husband’s mind heavily. She pulls on a dress that is a little tighter around her midsection than it was a month ago and tries on a smile that’ll suggest to her friends that everything is okay.

Because it is, yes?

She’s having a baby.

At breakfast, she tells Red and Granny and Jiminy and the dwarves, all of whom have been there for her, her dearest and closest friends. Granny promises to start mixing up some herbal supplements, and Grumpy accidentally slaps her a little too hard on the back with celebratory glee. (“My bad, sis.”) Jiminy chirps soft affirmations in her ear, and Red—always the most perceptive to the nuances in Snow’s smile—congratulates her but knowingly says they’ll talk later.

Her smile falters, just for a second, at this unwanted perceptiveness, but she readily picks up her face again when Red turns away.

She’s having a baby.

And she continues to smile throughout breakfast, even when the Merry Men who were on the morning patrol come into the dining hall without David. (Where is he if he’s not debriefing with them anymore? Why had he behaved so strangely this morning? Was it because of her? Emma? The baby? Or all of them together—their charming, messed up, little family?)

And then, along her husband's unknown whereabouts, there’s also the conspicuous absence of Regina; she hadn’t been on the morning patrol, and no one’s seen her since roughly yesterday when she’d been brushing her horse in the stables. It’s not altogether unusual for the Queen to skip the communal meals, having never been much of a socializer… nor eater frankly, but still, Snow can’t help but feel a little disappointed that she wasn’t around to hear the announcement. 

Oh, she knows it’s psychologically unfathomable that she wants to see the reaction of the woman whose total villainy destroyed the happiness of her last pregnancy and ensured that she didn't get to raise her own daughter, but as everyone from her own husband to Rumplestiltskin has pointed out, she’s always been a little strange when it comes to Regina. She truly believes that the Evil Queen has changed for the better, and she’s simultaneously selfish insomuch as she wants to capitalize on this very fact as much as Regina will allow, rebuilding their relationship on the foundation of where it had once so completely collapsed. Perhaps she still feels a morsel of what David apparently does—that Regina owes them for what she did—but her commitment to not losing her again is far stronger than any desire to see justice fairly doled out. 

If justice was perfectly meted in this world, all of them would be found wanting. 

(She isn’t enough. Always a failure. Wasn’t a good mother to Emma. How could she ever be to another child? She killed Cora. Stole Maleficent’s baby. Told a secret so many decades upon decades ago.)

Friends surround her in the dining hall. They clasp her hands, they hug her, and they tell her they’re so happy for her, but she misses her family, the few people who understand her.

She needs them.

—

She hears Regina’s distinctive drawl near the grand staircase as she’s wandering the halls, vainly looking for David. 

“Don’t call it a bribe, Thief,” the Queen says harshly as Snow awkwardly ducks into the spacious alcove on the side of the staircase. It’s just her and a brutally polished suit of armor, all stiffened joints. “It’s not that. It’s a gift. Haven’t you forest people ever heard of those before?”

“As condescending as ever, your Majesty,” she hears Robin Hood reply, faint amusement in his accented voice. “We do have gifts in the forest, but bear in mind that I also know when there are strings attached to quivers full of gold-tipped arrows. I’m a seasoned outlaw, and I know what hush money looks like when I see it.”

“Then take it and hush,” Regina hisses, and Snow can all but envision the sneer enlivening the woman’s face, how it stretches her pointed and painted features in grotesque ways. There's a distinctive clatter that she's fairly sure is the sound of the Queen shoving the quiver into Robin's chest. 

“If you know what’s good for you.”

“Is that a threat, milady?” Robin’s tone pitches up in clear irritation, and Snow’s thinking that now might be a good time to jump out of the alcove and interrupt things—make sure that the situation doesn’t escalate any further—but her fellow bandit beats her to the punch. “Because I don’t believe you’re as good at making those as you used to be.”

A terrifying beat of silence.

Snow admires the outlaw’s audacity and fears for him because of it; not many people have the guts to be so candid with Regina, and usually, when they do, it doesn’t particularly end well for them. Yes, nowadays she’s more likely to transport mouthy offenders fifteen feet outside into the bitter cold than set them on fire, but still, so many people continue to think of her as the Evil Queen, and they watch her for any minor slip-up, looking for the slightest excuse to tie her to the stake if she falls.

But to her surprise (and unending relief), after the long pause, her former stepmother only exhales softly, the gesture audibly exhausted and so terribly sad.

“Just… be discreet, okay?” She asks, and it’s not quite a plea because the queen never begs, but it’s not exactly a simple request either, charged with implicit meaning. “If you must, tell people they’re… tokens of appreciation for your assistance lowering the shield.”

“I’ll keep your secret,” Robin replies earnestly, “but not because you gave me golden arrows or because I'm intimidated by you, but because I’m wor—“

“Don’t,” she fiercely cuts across him, sounding much more like her usual imperial self, but this illusory facade seemingly shatters as quickly as it had appeared, her voice small and broken there in the end. “Just… don’t.”

“Your Majesty—“

But then there’s a whooshing noise that Snow recognizes to be Regina poofing herself away in a swirl of purple smoke, leaving a coughing archer in her wake.

—

When she’s sure that Robin is gone as well, listening as he exits through the main entranceway, Snow finally emerges from the alcove and idly rubs her belly, thinking of all that she had just heard. Regina had apparently given the archer golden arrows in exchange for him keeping quiet about something. She presumes that the alluded to event must have happened while they were alone in the castle, and a little nauseously wonders if the Queen’s secret has anything to do with the cryptic note that David found in Snow’s saddlebag that first night: The day we met, I saved your life. Thank you for trying to save mine.

She’d been too cowardly to confront Regina about it, thoroughly relieved just to find her alive in the castle, and desperately afraid to receive an explicit confirmation that the missive had been a final goodbye. But still, her suspicions have only been ignored, not entirely dispelled—and perhaps they've been even heightened by the older woman’s continual recklessness here in the Enchanted Forest, where her preferred battle strategy has been fight first and worry about accumulated injuries later. 

Snow for one is sick of seeing her former stepmother covered in her own blood—careless, proud, and so damn stubborn.

(And in her darkest nights, when she nightmares about Emma and Henry and vast, purple clouds enveloping her home of thirty years, she wonders to herself if every wound Regina receives is a passive form of suicide, committed again and again but never entirely sticking—cuts, bruises, scrapes, tears, and burns.)

(She fears that one day, she's going to wake up to find the body of an entirely victorious Queen, still and pale, laid out on a cold and lonely bier just like her mother and her father and Johanna and—)

(It's a silly thought, she tells herself on those nights. Just another stupid dream.)

As she ascends the staircase to the second landing, she thoughtfully concludes that Robin Hood knows something about the Queen's elusive heart that she doesn’t, but rather than use that information to his advantage, he’s genuinely concerned about her. He’s keeping her secret because he wants to, not because he’s receiving an elaborate gift in return.

Snow briefly smiles at the thought—comforted by the idea that there’s someone else besides herself looking out for Regina in this forest—but her contentment fades rapidly, brutally replaced with the same intuition that she’d felt only just this morning when her own husband had surely lied about being happy about their baby. In a similar vein, she’s being shut out from some aspect of Regina’s life yet again.

After all, it was the older woman’s insistence on letting her anger and pain over Daniel fester that had started the worst of their mutual troubles in the first place, and now here they are again some thirty years later, together in the same castle and simultaneously so far apart.

Doubts seize through her mind, bitter thoughts that condemn and ruin her. The people she loves most don’t trust her, and why should they? Why should David trust that this pregnancy will turn out better than the first? Why should Regina entrust her with another secret after what happened to the last? She’s always been a failure, and she’ll never be a good mother. She wasn’t to Emma, and so how could she ever be to another—

She frantically increases her efforts to find either David or Regina one before the council begins but to no avail; neither party is at their usual haunts inside the castle, and the session is too soon for her to scope the grounds without being late. She’ll have to settle with seeing them in the chamber that they designated to be their temporary war room.

But there’ll be no time for talking once the meeting begins with all eyes on her—their perfect leader, the ever smiling Snow White.

—

“Where’ve you been?” Snow demands under her breath, somewhat angrily, when David makes it into the council room only a few minutes before the enchanted sundial on the floor indicates that it’s ten. He had come in with Robin Hood, the two of them chuckling quietly amongst themselves, before assuming his place beside her at the round table.

“Strategizing with Robin,” he returns softly, pressing a gentle hand into the small of her back. Her nose wrinkles at the faintest whiff of ale she can smell on his breath, the oaky notes inelegantly disguised by the mint leaf he’s chewing. “I’m… er… going hunting with him today to see if we can track an elk herd. We’ll be fed through the winter if we can down a few.”

“Uh-huh,” she narrows her eyes at her husband accusingly. “You hate hunting.” He’s a shepherd whose experience with animals mostly resides with domesticated sheep, and he’s also a swordsman who couldn’t properly string a bow if Robin Hood himself gave him lessons, which is supposedly what is happening.

“Different times, different measures,” he mutters, not quite meeting her in the eye, his face every bit as waxen as it had been this morning when she’d first told him she was pregnant. “I’ve got a family to provide for—a kingdom.”

But just as she opens her mouth to call him out on the blatant lie, to maybe even take a shot about the liquor he’s clearly been drinking, Regina finally sweeps in, wearing a maroon riding coat and shiny leather boots that nearly ride all the way up to her thighs. She determinedly doesn’t look at Robin as she drapes herself into the only available chair next to his, and with her arrival—she’s not sorry she’s late—the council begins. 

It’s purely bureaucratic at first. Granny gives the rundown on food rations, and Blue says that she and the fairies are still trying to figure out a way to return them all to Storybrooke. Grumpy explains that the castle grounds are becoming overpopulated with tents from displaced citizens; they’ll need to start clearing some trees soon to make some more room, as well as to gather firewood for the impending winter. 

“You can prepare the eastern perimeter for tree removal,” Regina says with a lazy wave of her hand, not even bothering to look at the map the dwarves have spread out. “It’ll allow for easier access to the brook if some of that undergrowth is cleared. And perhaps we can even utilize it as a source for a new well.”

There are appreciative, if begrudging, nods around the table at the practical suggestion. Regina, for whatever her many faults are, is an excellent leader when she isn’t terrorizing the lives of countless thousands of people.

David proposes his and Robin’s hunting trip to general approval, and it doesn’t escape Snow’s careful notice that the archer briefly bites his lip at this, though his expression is otherwise inscrutable. 

“We’ll head north with a party and mark the tracks of the elk herd,” the archer elaborates with the confidence of a lifelong hunter. “Half of my band will continue following the quarry for a few days, while the other half will keep to the local boundaries and bag a few birds before returning to the castle. I want to ensure there are enough trained marksmen around for night patrols.”

“And you’ll be staying locally?” Snow asks her husband, receiving a nod and a cheeky grin in reply.

“You betcha—I’m not stupid enough to try any archery lessons leagues away from a healer.”

She isn’t sure if this either confirms or disproves her working theory that he’s not actually going hunting at all, but all the same, she’s at least comforted by the notion that he won’t be gallivanting across the dangerous mountain ranges where the Merry Men usually like to hunt. A thin sigh of relief filters through her nostrils before she turns to Robin.

“And how about you?“ She asks kindly, not entirely surprised when his answer is—

“Local too, your Highness,” he smiles gallantly, flashing his brilliant teeth. “Someone has to tuck my lad into bed, and after that, I shall join a night patrol… those winged beasts have been rooting around the Queen’s magical shield with more insistence lately. It bothers me that they’re so determined to dig beneath her defenses...”

Where Regina’s bored expression had incrementally softened at the mention of Roland, ferocity takes over at a perceived (and nonexistent) slight to her prowess.

“Like hell they will,” she growls petulantly, glaring at the man sitting to her immediate left, and it strikes Snow that this is surely the first time that the two have interacted since that overheard conversation in the vestibule. But despite the sensitive nature of that exchange—despite Robin's sincere concern for the Queen, despite the rare vulnerability that Regina had so fleetingly shown, despite the profound secret that apparently exists between them—neither of them seem to be acknowledging those nuances now, easily falling back into their usual verbal warfare. “It’ll take much more than some simian freaks to make it past my barriers.”

“Not saying they were going to, your Majesty,” Robin snorts, arching a waggish brow. When he shifts in his seat, his quiver rattles and the golden arrows he was only recently bequeathed catch in the sunlight pouring in through the arches. Bribes. Gifts. Hush money. Snow sees that her former stepmother’s darkly painted lips have drawn back into a dangerous sneer. “Your listening skills leave much to be desired.”

“You cretinous, little—“

“Okay, you two!” David interrupts them loudly before they can really hit their stride, banging the tip of his sheathed sword against the marbled floor to get their attention. “We don’t really have time for this. Regina, you’re supposed to be coordinating our offensive strategies. Have you got anything new to tell us?”

For a second there, Snow isn’t entirely convinced that she’s going to back off of Robin, her entire body taut with visible irritation, but finally, the Queen only sighs deeply, nods at Charming, and then, as plainly as day—with a frankly obscene lack of hesitation—offers up one of the most idiotic plans she’s ever proposed.

Which is genuinely saying something given Regina’s track record with idiotic plans.

“I’m going to visit my parents’ old estate,” she says, very purposefully shifting her heavy gaze to Snow, her dark eyes determined and unflinching, clearly expecting a fight and perhaps very well spoiling for one. “It’s high time that I learn as much about my sister as possible to know what we’re up against. Perhaps Cora left something behind in her personal vault there—something we can exploit and use against the wicked bitch.”

“No,” Snow snaps immediately, earning a silent snarl that has long stopped fazing her. “Absolutely not. It’s not safe. Your mother—“

“—is my mother, Snow,” Regina cuts across her with an air of vicious finality, folding her arms across her tightly corseted torso. “I know her. I know her magic. I can disarm any traps she may have set and return without any lasting repercussions.”

It’s the tiniest of slips, but still, it’s a rare miscalculation of speech, and Snow jumps on it in the same instant that Regina realizes her error with an under-the-breath curse.

“But there are repercussions, aren’t there?” She presses insistently, her lips curving upwards into a smug smile. Had Regina been just a degree more careful, she wouldn’t have intimated that there were consequences at all, but she did, and she bristles rather childishly at having been caught. “Yes, that’s what I thought. Cora’s vault is dangerous—even to you, Regina.”

Perhaps especially to you, she wants to say but doesn’t dare, well-aware that Cora’s abysmal conception of motherhood is an off-limits topic, and Regina only leers at her from across the table, as though she can read her mind on this crucial but unspoken point.

Robin raises an inquisitive brow, looking between the two women rather perceptively.

“Why would your mother’s vault be dangerous, milady?” He frowns, his gaze settling decisively upon Regina, those rich blue eyes kindled with unmistakable concern. Again, Snow is touched by the archer’s persistence in worrying for Regina, and she idly wonders if, despite everything, he might actually like her.

If there’s chemistry and mutual attraction between the both of them beneath all the brutal snark.

If this could very well be the beginning of something.

Maybe.

If Regina would stop lashing out and saying things like, “It’s hardly any of your business, Thief. Now go stick an arrow up your ass or something.”

Snow quickly intercepts as Robin opens his mouth, presumably to tell her something to the effect of, after you, milady.

“Which is code for the fact that Regina’s mother—” She bites her lower lip, suddenly reticent, pretty sure that she doesn’t have much of a right to speak on Cora; she killed her after all, and the reminder of that black spot on her heart haunts her every day, echoed back to her nearly every time she stares into Regina’s dark eyes. And now, at the mention of her mother, those same eyes are boring into her intensely, surely swirling with the memories of a woman who had it in her to crush the heart of her daughter’s first love. The princess swallows—temporarily frozen and overwhelmed and so, so guilty—but Charming squeezes her knee beneath the round table, grounding her, giving her the strength to finish the sentence. “—was a very powerful sorceress, and she’d surely take certain measures to protect her possessions…”

She trails off rather weakly at this but doesn’t look away from Regina. She doesn’t think she has the right to do that either with as much as they’ve gone through at the hands of the same dead woman. But to her surprise, her former nemesis doesn’t look particularly incensed—not any more than she usually does anyway—at the carefully worded evaluation. In fact, her next words are delivered with a certain degree of—not kindness, exactly—but self-possession, each syllable carefully measured and quietly delivered. 

“Correct,” she nods thoughtfully, “which is why I’m going there alone. No need to expose anyone else to my mother’s twisted ideas of fun…”

It’s a long cry from the throaty rage she’d leveled at Snow on her front porch mere months ago when the princess had been at her lowest, when she’d thought that death was the only palatable alternative to living with the darkness she had wrought. Not even a few days later, Regina had apparently come to a similar conclusion when she centered all of her magic on the destructive failsafe she had made, prepared to sacrifice herself to save Henry—to save them all. The fundamental difference between the two suicide attempts was that one of them had been inherently selfish… and it hadn’t been Regina’s.

This was all less than a year ago.

So much has changed between them since then.

“You’re not going either,” Snow protests again, as vehement as Regina is strangely reserved. “We’ll find a way to beat Zelena that doesn’t involve you potentially getting hurt.”

She supposes this is where she’s the one who screws up, careless with her wording, ignorant of the irony that Regina so effortlessly identifies. She laughs mirthlessly, the gesture chillingly flat in her eyes.

“How naïve of you to think this’ll end any other way, Snow.”

“Regina—“ She exhales painfully, stricken, and suddenly, so completely terrified for her former nemesis’s wellbeing. How does this woman always accept the possibility of her own pain so easily? How has she come to regard its presence as the only reliable norm in her life? But before she can turn her shock into another plea, Regina has turned towards David again, determination in the set of her jaw.

“You know I’m right, Charming,” she appeals to him in a succinct voice before flicking her gaze around the entirety of the table: Granny, the dwarves, Blue, and even Robin, whose expression perhaps most closely matches the strain in Snow’s own. “We’ve played defensively far too long, and it’s time to start looking for answers before my sister decides to make a move that we can’t recover from. You’re a strategist, same as I am—this makes sense.”

David shifts uncomfortably in his chair—perhaps reacting to Regina’s insinuation that they’re alike in any way—but he doesn’t flinch. Snow thinks on the assessment for little more than a moment and arrives at the conclusion that it’s astonishingly apt; when they’re not being stubborn jackasses, her husband and once stepmother are both fairly logical individuals, approaching dangerous situations like chess players, and that’s what makes them effective leaders in times of crisis.

“You promise you won’t take any unnecessary risks?” He asks, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “That’s the only way I’m okaying this mission—I want your solemn word that you’re coming back here without so much as a scrape on your knee, Regina. And you’re taking someone with you.”

Regina immediately tries to protest, but David firmly cuts her off by raising his hand. “Save it. There needs to be someone with you just in case things go south or the witch shows up. You can take anyone you’d like, but you’re not going alone.”

“And who exactly is jumping at the bit to accompany the Evil Queen to her mother’s dark vault?” She scoffs, peering around the table with clear disdain, and Snow sees the reciprocal reluctance in her friends’ expressions, the incredible and firmly warranted dislike. It wasn’t just Snow whom the Queen had terrorized in her reign; it was an entire, sprawling kingdom. “Any of the seven dipshits?”

“Hey!” Grumpy snarls as his brothers bristle in unison, some even brandishing the small pickaxes perpetually hanging from their belts.

“Regina, dammit, quit antagonizing—“ David starts angrily, but the Queen talks over him, her eyes alight with a mad and maddening kind of humor.

“How about you, Thief?” She drawls thickly, turning to look at Robin, and Snow intimately recognizes what she’s doing—pushing everyone away so she can have her way, so she can go to that isolated manor on a hill and face her demons there alone. 

“And what of me, your Majesty?” He asks with narrowed eyes, his voice deceptively light as she leans forward in her chair, the wood creaking beneath her shifting weight.

“Wouldn’t you love to have a chance to learn more about me and all the devastation I’ve caused? The innumerable, unspeakable horrors ? Would that turn you on?” She finishes, her voice deliciously sultry and so clearly an act, but no one else can see it. Granny and Blue and the dwarves—they’re all looking at her like she’s diseased—and Robin’s at a rare loss for words, his face flushed at the sudden proximity of the Queen’s weaponized cleavage. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, Thief, like I’m someone worth getting to know. How about it then—want to play house with a psychopath?”

Some of the dwarves are standing up now, and David’s yelling at them to sit down, and Snow’s fists are clenched tightly on top of her gowned lap, trembling violently. She’s suddenly so angry at Regina for being such a consummate liar, for playing into her role as a villain and justifying it as a shield, a tool, and a readymade excuse.

“Enough, Regina,” she barks, slamming her hands on the table hard enough to cause multiple people to flinch. “I’m coming with you.”

“No,” her husband immediately says, unspeakable worry laden in just the one syllable, and for some reason, it reminds her of the fact that she’s pretty pissed at him too. They’re going to have a baby, and they’re supposed to be thrilled, but he’s been distant and untruthful all day—probably for some stupidly noble reason that they’re going to have a row about later. “You’re pregnant, Snow—you shouldn’t be traipsing around in magically boobytrapped vaults.”

“Hell to the no,” Regina agrees with him vigorously, seemingly shocked out of her seductress act, first by her genuine surprise at the initial proposition and then by David’s unexpected revelation, her gaze briefly darting downwards to Snow's stomach. A pang of disappointment trickles through her—she had wanted to tell Regina herself—but the ugly feeling is fleeting, giving way to awe at the Queen's next words. “It’s too dangerous for your pretty, little head.”

It's half an insult, and it's half... not?

It's not exactly the kindest gesture of care she's ever received, if it's even that.

But, no, it's Regina, and she's simply just trying to push her away so she can do this clearly reckless thing without interference.

That is it.

That is all.

“I appreciate the concern”—she levels both of them a glare that explicitly communicates that she does not, in fact, appreciate the concern—“but I’m not a child in case you’ve forgotten, and being pregnant isn’t synonymous with frailty, Charming." She enunciates his name scathingly, glad that he winces. "I’ve survived living in the woods for years. I’ve weathered countless curses. I’ve survived you for gods’ sake!” She directs this last part specifically at Regina, not even remotely regretful about dredging up all the bitter history between them, the cat and mouse games they used to so hatefully and lovingly play in this very forest. (It’s important to remember the darkness of where they came from, so they can be all the more appreciative of their reconciliation in the light.) “I can handle a vault. What I won’t handle is you two being overly precious about my safety.”

She haughtily regards each of them, the proud shepherd and the relentless Queen, her husband and her Regina, as though daring either of them to defy her wishes. It’s the lingering remnant of the spoiled princess in her, perhaps, someone very much accustomed to getting exactly what she wants, and in this ephemeral moment, what she wants most from the two people she’s closest to in this realm is for them to stop being dumbasses. 

David stares at her incredulously, his gloved fingers taut where they still rest on her knee, but Regina, after blinking a few times in amazement, actually laughs, the sound harsh and vaguely crazed on her tongue.

“What?” David asks sharply. “What is it?”

But Regina only continues laughing, holding her stomach a little and shaking her perfectly coiffed head.

“It’s just, who would have ever thought, shepherd boy, that we’d be on the same page of trying not to get your wife killed by my mother and I?”

It’s ridiculous to imagine.

Absurd even given their storied past.

“I need a goddamn aspirin,” David only groans, pulling a hand across his pale brow, as Regina’s not entirely sound grin seems to unnerve the other members at the table far more than her insults had.

“She’s batshit insane,” Grumpy mutters under his breath.

“You’re telling me,” Granny shakes her head tiredly.

Snow giggles innocently at all of these exchanges, but particularly at the loaded look that her husband and former stepmother share, both resigned to their fates.

Defeated.

And Snow White only smiles at them, simply triumphant.

—

Snow and Regina ride with the hunting party all the way up to Hangman’s Fork—where there used to literally be a gallow for traitors to the Queen—but now, there are only flattened trees, rotted undergrowth, and two roads that diverge down a curse-destroyed wood. Regina, impressively regal on her black horse, her spine ramrod straight, rides ahead on the left path, while Snow briefly remains behind to say goodbye to her husband. When they pull their horses a few paces away from the Merry Men, David reaches over to place a hand on her arm.

“I’m still not okay with you doing this,” he murmurs, his frown so gentle and involved. He looks a lot like Emma in the moment, and the uncanny resemblance stings more than it soothes. “You’re pretty sure yourself that it’s going to be dangerous there—the question isn’t if but to what horrific extent.”

“Which is exactly why I’m going,” she says firmly, nodding towards the darkly dressed figure some ways ahead of them now. The Queen is wearing her hair in an elaborate twist today and her riding costume is intended to provoke rather than be functional, but still and nonetheless, Snow thinks about a young woman with a long braid down her back and an uncomplicated radiance in her eyes. She thinks of how painful it must be to know that she’s going back to the place where it all began.

And powerfully, it hits Snow, too, that this will only be the second time she’ll have returned to the Mills Estate since she and her father visited all those many years ago, since the King had proposed to Regina, since she had stumbled upon Regina and Daniel in the stables, since she had told a new friend’s secret to Cora Mills. She'd been on the grounds only once after that, when the Evil Queen had revealed what happened to her first love and entreated her to eat that cursed apple, so she could avoid the same fate.

Her stomach vaguely flips, and she’s pretty sure it’s not from any degree of morning sickness.

“I… I have to be there for her,” she finishes, her voice coming out as little more than a croak. “You know how she’s like these days.”

So careless, convinced that she’s doomed.

“And what about her?” David demands, his tone taking on a slightly harder edge, even as he reaches over to gently brush a stray curl behind her ear. “If it came down to it, would she be there for you?”

Snow hears the echo of their conversation from this morning in this particular set of questions.

She owes us that, at least.

Regina owes them.

And she wonders—not for the first time today—what sad and indefinite shadows lurk behind the hollows of her husband’s eyes. He’s not thrilled about this baby; he’s haunted, and he’s looking at her, and he’s looking at Regina, like they’re both ghosts from a bloody history.

And perhaps they are, all three of them. Perhaps their twisted past will forever be present with them, the darkly arranged specter that reminds them of just how fragile this all really is… but Snow is Snow, and the pillars of her convictions are immutable.

She has to believe that it’s possible to not only live with that fragility but to move beyond it—to let the past go so as to strive towards an infinitely brighter future.

“I… I think so,” Snow says, a little tentatively at first, but then, with more certainty, adds, “I know she would.”

The woman who gave up her own happiness so that Emma and Henry could have a good life is not the same woman who had tried to kill her over and over again for nearly a decade. She's far from the same girl who saved her from that runaway horse all those years ago, too, of course, but there's just enough of a resemblance there to give Snow hope that maybe, just maybe, she'll cross paths with that uncommonly kind stranger once again.

They both look up at Regina now to see that she’s staring back at them with clear impatience. Comically enough, her steed is just as restless as she is, stomping around a little in place.

“Go on then, and I’ll see you this evening,” Charming finally sighs, leaning down and pressing a kiss against her forehead. It’s a movement that’s made awkward by the tall bow slung across his back and his body’s clear unfamiliarity with how to move around with it.

“After your hunt, yes?” She purses her lips, watching him carefully as he scrambles to recover his balance on his white horse, his cheeks a little flushed.

“Yeah,” he breathes unconvincingly. “Mhm.”

Gods, he’s such a horrible liar, but Snow is generous. She graciously lets the moment pass and tells Robin to make sure that her husband doesn’t accidentally shoot himself—(“I’ll do my best, milady”), and in return, the archer wishes her good luck with the tempestuous Queen—(“I’ll make sure she doesn’t misbehave.”)

And then, feeling Charming’s eyes on her back the entire time, she rides onwards and catches up to Regina, so that their horses are side by side, one blindingly light and the other so perfectly dark. 

Complementary opposites.

The horses.

Them.

"Regina," she nods.

"Snow."

The Queen searches her up and down with those perpetually calculating eyes before finally regarding her with what can only be classified as a feral smile.

“Do try and keep up, dear. I won’t ride easy on you.”

“Is that a challenge?” Snow raises a brow, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

“It always is.”

And without waiting for a reply, Regina breaks her horse into a full-speed gallop, not bothering to look behind when Snow so closely follows.

Perhaps she’s finally learned to expect it from her.

[ninzied]

Where Hearts Touch [OQ]

The many ways that Robin said "I love you,” and one time that Regina finally said it back. Outlaw Bandit. Missing Year. Storybrooke. Dark OQ. [ffn | ao3]

My @lovefromoq fic for @dee-thequeenbee. Thank you @revolutionsoftheheart and @repellomuggletum15 for lending your brilliant brains. Thank you to @loveexpelrevolt, @idoltina, @sometimesangryblackwoman, and some lovely anons for their three word prompts that inspired some of these. And to @sometimesangryblackwoman for the title of this fic.

i. i loved you first (but)

They were not friends, she and that smug thorn-in-her-side, who never met a vault or a jewel he didn’t mistakenly take to be his. Friends didn’t steal, at least not from each other, and they certainly weren’t supposed to gloat about it either – much like the way that damn Robin of Locksley was always so helpfully pointing out how his wanted posters vastly outnumbered hers.

It seemed to be more than a habit for him, to find every way to get under her skin, but the day that she thought to return the favor did not go quite as planned – guards that neither of them had accounted for descending upon them from every direction – and as they scattered into the woods, Robin’s satchel came loose, spilling out dozens of sheets of (it couldn’t be) her. Wanted, for crimes against the Queen, and worth even more of a fortune alive.

It was the deepest form of treachery in her eyes, that he would have endeavored to hide this from her. But without so much as a sorry, Robin grabbed for his papers and then for her hand, tugging them hastily onward as he said into her ear, “Can’t get caught if they don’t have a face to your name.”

“And what about your stupid face?” Regina demanded, hating how uncertain she sounded even as her steps fell in perfect tandem with his – as though she would have followed him anywhere – but there was no time to think too hard on what this could mean.

Robin had caught an arm around her waist before she even realized what she’d tripped on, and at the sound of his whistle there came a cantering of hooves in response, his grip on her tightening as he prepared to hoist her upward. “They needed someone to chase after, didn’t they?”

They were not friends, exactly, never that, but this…this was something else, something she didn’t know how to even begin understanding, and as Robin settled one hand more firmly at her hip and reached for the reins with the other, there were no more questions, only the wind on her skin, pressing them close as they took off in pursuit of the sun.

…

“Are we there yet?” she heard a grumble come from behind her, in a voice that she couldn’t quite place – one of that thief’s many sidekicks, no doubt, given the obvious shortage on manners – and she was fully prepared not to bother with him when that voice carried on in an overloud whisper, “How do we know the Evil Queen’s not leading us straight into a trap?”

Regina didn’t quite catch what the thief had to say in response – Snow was endeavoring to catch her eye, offering one of those too-gentle smiles that was just as unwelcome to her at the moment – but the grouching ceased after that, and their company walked on in a cramped kind of silence while Regina did her best to not set anything on fire.

They were stopped at a stream, debating whether or not to camp there for the night, when they heard the first rumblings of thunder above them. That seemed to settle the issue, and as the thief’s men began hurriedly unpacking their tent sacks (Charming and Snow dashing off to gather wood before the whole forest got soaked), that same mouthy ingrate from earlier was overheard griping, “I thought she had magic. What, is she too good now to do something about this storm?”

Because Snow wasn’t looking, and because, well, why the hell not, Regina – with a grim satisfaction – waved her hand and a bubble spread out of the sky, enveloping their entire encampment. The raindrops bounced off of its surface with tiny pings save for one spot that her magic had just so happened to overlook, right above that ungrateful man’s head.

While he sputtered in protest, Regina swept away from the group and sat herself onto a log, glaring out at the forest and hardly bothering to care when the rain came down on her too. Behind her, she could hear a small child – the thief’s – dancing circles inside the orb she’d created, and her body felt impossibly heavy all of a sudden, moving away to find other shelter an insurmountable task.

All she’d wanted was a moment alone in her castle, where the grief she’d been carrying around would feel right at home again, but even this was apparently too much to ask.

It was then that she noticed the thief by her side – the Charmings would have sent him to fetch her, no doubt – and she was about to make him regret ever breathing when he shrugged out of his cloak, draping it around her shoulders before she could guess what he was up to. He lifted the hood over her head next, taking care to disturb not a hair, and then he stepped back as the rain splattered onto his clothes, already dripping down the sides of his face as he nodded to her.

“Your Majesty,” was all he said, his tone neither questioning nor expecting anything of her, simply letting her be as she stared after him, and this was nowhere close to the solace her castle would bring her but – she supposed – perhaps it could do for now.

…

She slept like the dead that night.

Zelena had given her a good tossing up and down Main Street, and Regina awoke well past the time she would have normally thought to set her alarm, blinking out the sun in her eyes for long minutes before realizing what had pulled her from sleep.

Someone was causing quite a stir in her yard – gleefully so, at the sound of it – and it should have concerned her, these mischievous noises (she glanced at her clock) before half the town had even woken. But there was something familiar in their strangeness, as though she’d heard them once in a dream…

Robin’s boy was galloping around and around her apple tree when Regina stepped onto her porch, his father already coaxing him back with a guilty expression as though he’d known they were about to get caught.

Roland had helped himself to an armful of apples, but at the gentle behest of his father was now obediently returning them one-by-one to the ground, and Regina hesitated a moment before quietly telling him, “I don’t mind.”

“I didn’t think you would,” Robin admitted, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or to scowl at him when he ruefully showed her the half-bitten core of an apple he’d been hiding down by his side. “Come along, my boy, we’ve bothered our good Mayor long enough – let’s not forget we’ve another tree that needs our protecting this morning.”

“That one doesn’t have any apples on it,” Roland remarked, just a bit sullen, and Robin looked back at Regina.

“No,” he agreed. “Something even more valuable, I daresay.”

After a nudge, Roland turned to wave a shy little goodbye to Regina, and as his father took his arm she caught a flash of something red in the boy’s other hand, a glint and then gone as it slipped out of sight into one of his pockets.

She could feel the weight of Robin’s dimples winking back in her direction as she bent down, busied herself with retrieving an apple (one that had not fallen far from the tree, it turned out), and smiled.

…

He could not seem to stop smirking at her, licking his lips as he reached over to refill her pint, and if not for the warmth in his gaze (fast-spreading elsewhere at that), she might have thought to teach this Robin of Locksley some manners as far as the Queen was concerned.

“What?” she asked him at last. The grin he gave her was positively boyish, disappearing behind his cup for a moment, though it did nothing to hide how his eyes kept crinkling at her. And it was so new to her, all of this, sharing a drink and stealing more glances at one another, that she could only sip on her ale and wonder at how very young he made her feel simply by looking in her direction.

She hadn’t come with a plan, apart from knowing this – them – and how they might fit together, and the night felt endless with the way he bit his lip, gazing at her like he’d been given a second chance at things too, and nothing would stop them, not even—

The tavern door was clacking shut, bringing in a fresh wave of noise, and a wobbly-drunk exclamation of “Bloody hell, is that – is that the Evil Queen?” that had Robin tensing, clenching his jaw as he turned toward the door.

“Robin,” she said, but he had already shoved his bench back, unsheathing a blade from his belt. He had the man flattened against the wall, choking around the dagger pressed flush to his throat, when she came up behind them and said, more sternly this time, “Robin.”

At least take it outside like civilized people, is what she’d meant to continue with, but when he craned back she thought maybe he’d mistakenly seen the Regina in her for a moment, and with a greatly strained effort he released the man, letting him crumple with a cough to the floor.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Robin asked her, but there was something guarded in his expression now, refusing to abate even as she took his arm and looked expectantly at the door in answer.

“Look,” he started once they were in the alleyway, “I wouldn’t have killed him, if that’s what you’re—”

“You couldn’t have made him bleed just a little?” she asked him with the slightest pout, and he slackened his jaw at her, his gaze darkening in the most delicious of ways.

“My apologies, I had assumed—” but she never allowed him to finish, fisting her hands into his shirt and pulling him down to her. Their lips found each other’s as though this was not the first time they’d done this, but there was also a carefulness she hadn’t expected from him, a gentle holding back until she opened her mouth to welcome him in, and every hesitation fell away as he drew her up in his arms, tongue sliding heatedly over hers with a half-strangled sound in his throat.

“That’s the one,” he husked as they parted, and she couldn’t know what he meant by this – by the something like relief she thought she might have heard for a second – but she did know her answer when he twined their hands together, nudged his forehead into hers and whispered, “Are you ready?”

…

ii. afterwards your love outsoaring mine

It was, without a doubt, one of their more ill-advised ventures to date, but Will Scarlet had sworn by his “sources,” and gods forbid Robin not give the boy a chance – which was why Regina vowed to put an end to this man once and for all, after she got them out of this mess that he’d sanctioned.

“Your source didn’t think to mention the fact that we were stealing from a dragon?” Robin was shouting irritably at Will, who did not have the opportunity to defend himself before another burst of flames had incinerated the tapestries they’d briefly crouched by for shelter.

A deafening roar shook the castle apart, from floor to ceiling to the very air they breathed in, and they scattered in every direction for cover. Regina ducked beside a wardrobe, scanning the state of the room, when suddenly Robin was tackling her sideways, knocking the both of them over.

“Do you mind?” she grit out, shoving him off of her, just as a mound of rubble came showering down on the ground where she’d been standing not seconds before. The wardrobe teetered and then, with a loud creaking groan, toppled onto the wreckage and splintered apart.

“Come on,” Robin gasped through the cloud of debris, hauling her up by the hand, and she wondered, not for the first time (not that she’d ever admit it), if she would only ever allow him to reach for her like this when there was something to run from involved.

The running did not stop until they were well under cover of the trees. Regina could still feel the whoosh of the dragon circling them overhead, but she did not seem keen on burning down a whole forest in pursuit of a few pesky humans, snorting her displeasure after a moment and drawing back with a flap of her great, scaly wings.

Once the air had settled, Regina turned on Robin with all the fire-breathing might of her own (this was entirely his fault, after all), ready to tear him in two with some choice words she would try not to regret too much later. But the look on his face caught her off guard, and she forgot her own voice as he lifted his hand and carefully swiped a thumb across her cheek, brushing away the soot there.

“You look terrible,” he remarked, dropping his hand back down. “We ought to get you cleaned up. Shall we stop by Granny’s on our way back to camp?” He was sauntering off before she could gather back the breath to destroy him, and oh how she would enjoy the moment when she brought this man to his knees at last.

…

She was going to kill him. That is, if her sister’s winged monkeys didn’t get to him first.

“It was my turn to stand watch,” seethed Regina, glaring down at the grounds as a distinctly Robin-shaped figure patrolled around with one of his men. “I specifically told him—”

“Isn’t it always your turn?” asked Snow as she came pattering into the room, a tray of tea balanced over her belly, and Regina, greatly in need of an audience for all her indignation, whirled on her next.

“Don’t tell me you trust our neanderthal guests to keep this castle safe at night. If you can even call them a step above those primates – at least they know how to fly.”

But Snow refused to engage her, pouring out two porcelain cups and passing one over to Regina. “Here. Drink this.”

Regina drank, steaming all the while, and then she marched with purpose toward the doorway, announcing that she would simply have to call the thief in for questioning just as he was rounding the corner himself.

His sudden appearance startled her so thoroughly that she spilled the rest of her tea onto him, too stunned to resist when he collected the cup from her hands and set it down onto a table. “You summoned for me?” he asked, tone wry.

Unbelievable, this man. “If you’re here,” and she jabbed an accusing finger into his chest, “then who’s out there—” she gestured dramatically back at the window she’d been lurking by earlier “—keeping watch?”

“I was getting Little John situated,” he explained to her patiently, head at a curious tilt as he eyed her more carefully than before. “And then I thought I’d come talk you down from whatever violent end you must have already planned for the both of us.”

“Like you know me so well,” Regina snarled at him, but it came out a bit slurred, and then, to her absolute horror, she seemed to lose control of her feet, stumbling most unwillingly forward as Robin’s arms closed on instinct around her.

Through the edges of her blackening vision Regina could just make out the way he glanced at the tea cup, then back at her before rounding on Snow. “What have you done?” he demanded, voice heating.

That traitor, thought Regina vaguely. Well, she supposed she would have to kill her too, once she…after…

“We talked about this,” Robin was near to growling now, the words a rumbling hum in his chest, and Regina tried to get closer, feeling his hands shift, steadying, all over her back in response. “I recall saying under no circumstances—”

“She wasn’t going to give in,” Snow shot back. “You and I both know that. She needed this, Robin.”

He shook his head, and Regina thought she might have imagined the way his cheek pressed into her hair for a moment. “Not like this.”

She noticed the floor lifting away from her feet, everything turning sideways for what might have been five seconds or five hundred of them – but then they swayed to a stop and all of his warmth was leaving her as some cushiony something grounded her body instead, and she frowned, reaching for him—

“Robin?”

“Get some rest, darling.” She felt the words more than she heard them, caressing gently over her temple, and her eyes closed before she could ask him to stay.

…

“Can they spend the night, Mom? Pleeeease?”

Three sets of eyes were suddenly on her, and she looked between them all with open disbelief. “You just met,” she reminded her son. “Today, as a matter of fact.”

Henry grinned and shrugged and returned, “I know,” looking down as Roland gave an urgent tug on his coat sleeve. The boy gestured pointedly toward the duck pond, where all the ducks were evidently not going to be feeding themselves, and Henry nodded understandingly to him. “Doesn’t really feel like it though.”

“I think I know that feeling myself,” said Robin, idly scratching a thumb over his upper lip and glancing sidelong in Regina’s direction. She found she had to look away for a moment, a smile trying very hard to break though as she tucked back a strand of hair by her ear.

“Mom, please.” The look Henry gave her was heartbreakingly earnest, and she could not forget that she’d just gotten him back for a price, standing aside while he said goodbye to a father who’d barely been more than a stranger to him.

“Well,” Regina said, “I suppose one night would be fine, so we can all get to know one another. But there will be some ground rules—“ which nobody would have heard anyway, because Henry and Roland were already taking off with a heel of bread split between them, laughing giddily all the way.

A rush of warmth spilled into her chest, and it didn’t help matters when Robin drew closer, every memory of the year – of the man – she’d been missing finally settling back into place when she’d never have guessed her heart could fill up this way.

“Hi,” he said, those dimples of his winking most boldly at her, and shouldn’t a year of him doing this have made her more immune to it, somehow?

“Hi yourself.”

He reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. “I told you we’d see each other again.”

“That’s…not exactly how I remember it,” she said, gently teasing, but something like shyness held her back from anything more than that with him, for now.

“We’ll need snacks,” Henry was saying wisely as they brushed off the last of their breadcrumbs, with Roland gazing up at him all the while, rapt and unblinking. “Lots of snacks. I’m thinking chips, and cookies, and – hmm, I wonder what else you didn’t have in the Enchanted Forest.”

“Allow me to supervise the preparations,” Robin murmured into Regina’s ear when he caught her making a strained little grimace. He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead before jogging up to the boys – it was probably ridiculous of her, to feel like she’d misplaced something when her hand slipped out of his – and she watched the three of them go, and thought perhaps she could use some time alone anyway, almost dreading the moment she let herself get used to all this.

She was readying the guest room, wondering as absentmindedly as she could whether she should make up the bed for one or for two, when the front door opened again, filling her mansion with an unfamiliar abundance of sounds – of two boys and a father, Robin’s voice booming over them both to unpack their loot in the kitchen.

It was an impressive array of the worst kinds of food, all of them beaming when she mentioned as much, until she spied a box of doughnuts shoved innocuously off to one corner.

“Isn’t that place closed on Sundays?” Regina asked in a very dry tone, raising a brow when Henry hastily pocketed a piece of thin silver metal and side-eyed Robin for help.

“Is it?” asked Robin maddeningly, and yes, thought Regina, it looked like someone would be sleeping in the guest bedroom after all.

…

It was not an easy adjustment, moving Robin of Locksley into the castle with her. Her other Robin (not that she’d let herself see him as hers at the time) had settled right in like he’d always belonged there, so easy and gentle and unnervingly steady with her. This darker-edged version of him, however, could not seem to get comfortable.

There was no shortage of space for him to explore, but all of it closed in with dimness and walls that reached for unreachable ceilings, and he would restlessly prowl every corner and crevice as though she had trapped him there somehow, lured him in and then locked out the sun for good measure.

After years of stowing himself in wide, open barns and languoring out in the countryside, Robin could not abide by the stale air of her castle, nor the excess of a lifestyle he had never desired – clothes too stiff to move in, bathing routines when the nearest stream would have suited him perfectly fine – and her bed, it would seem, was the biggest offender of all.

He would take her there, every night, pinning her down to the mattress with his kisses and his cock buried deep inside of her, murmuring things that would make even her blush to repeat them away from this bed that they shared – that they could have shared, anyway.

He would take her there, but after several sleepless nights of him sighing and tossing about – he found it unbearably soft, he told her, too much give in its plushness for his liking – he took to leaving her instead, seeking out firmer ground in places where she did not feel able to follow.

He would greet her with a kiss in the morning at breakfast, hot and tongue-filled over the curve of her throat, looking much better rested than she herself felt, and it would take more time than she wanted to warm back up to him.

She fell into a fit of sleep one night, unable to stand it any longer, resolving to explode at him if he tried to kiss her again the next day – but when she awoke, shifting around to glare at the sunrise, she found a different kind of warmth draped over her, firmly spread across her back and pressing open-mouthed over her shoulder.

“You’re here.” She hadn’t meant for it to sound like a question.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” said Robin, voice still rough from his slumber, “I never should have let you doubt it,” and as he nuzzled further into her with a groan of content, she supposed – just this once – that staying angry with him would have to wait until later.

…

iii.  sang such a loftier song

She rose before dawn, feeling around in the dark for her things. She’d packed light; she didn’t have much to her name as it was, and everything that was valuable to her could not, under any circumstances, come with her.

The rest of the forest still had not stirred – she could make out the faint whistling sounds of Little John snoring, of Will Scarlet mumbling things in his sleep – and she made it to the edge of their encampment before noticing the lone silhouette that had waited up for her there.

Robin cleared his throat, crossing his arms and leaning his weight into a nearby birch. “Going somewhere?”

It’s been cute, watching the two of you play house in the woods. In fact, it might just make me sick – wouldn’t you agree, James?

Regina shrugged, turning on him with an eye-rolling boredom. “Look, we’ve had fun working together. But this was never supposed to be a permanent thing, and I think it’s time for me to move on.”

You didn’t think he could actually love you back, did you? Oh, that’s so…sad.

“Is that all this was to you? ‘Fun’?” Robin moved forward, but something in her gaze must have stopped him, a sharpness there that she so desperately needed him to feel – if he tried to reach for her now, she thought, then she might never know how to leave.

“You’re right,” she said. “Sometimes it wasn’t even that.”

“The Queen is still out there,” he argued quietly, ignoring her dig. “You know she won’t stop until she’s seen you dead, or worse.”

Why don’t you let me put you out of your misery, Regina? You look like you could use the rest.

“I’m well aware of the price on my head, no thanks to you.” She pulled a crumpled bit of parchment from her satchel and tossed it over – one of his own wanted posters smirking up at him as he unfolded the corners, his face now sporting devil horns with a mockingly scribbled-in PRICELESS over the original bounty.

Robin stared at it for a moment before meeting her eye, looking for the first time like she may very well be a stranger to him if this had been but a game to her all along.

Let me know if you’re interested in what I have to offer, Regina. Of course, I would hate to see anything happen to the people you care about before you’ve had a chance to make up your mind.

Robin shook his head, brows knitting together. “My men can protect you,” he tried one last time. “I can protect you.”

“I appreciate the concern,” drawled Regina, “but I’d been doing just fine on my own before you came along. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She shouldered her way past him, half of her burning and the other half falling apart when he made no move to stop her from going. “I have an old friend to see, and I’d prefer not to keep her waiting.”

“Regina, I—”

“See you around, Robin.” She’d never been one for goodbyes, and this was the last she ever wanted with him, so she didn’t look back, knowing what he would see on her face and fearing the worst if she gave him a reason to hope.

(She should have known better.)

…

She hadn’t expected him to follow her, which was her first mistake. Her second was that she let him.

“Is it true?” Robin asked, and she slowed her steps, looking tiredly back in his direction. “That the curse will take away our memories of this place?”

“My dear sister’s parting gift to us.” Regina gave him a flat smile as he came to a stop in front of her, his own expression strangely unreadable. “I’d say you can thank her for it later, but. Well.” Her gaze drifted pointedly out a thin sliver of window, where storm clouds had gathered in the near-distant horizon.

Robin’s eyes were steady on hers, and she found herself drawn back to them, all that deep, open blue bringing time to a standstill when he asked her next, “Will I see you again?”

Of all the possible ways that this miserable curse could unfold, the thought of Robin somehow not coming with them had never occurred to her. She swallowed past a sudden pounding in her throat, unable to find her voice for a moment.

She finally managed a scoff, shook her head as he took a step closer. “You wouldn’t even remember me.” There was a traitorous hitch at the end when she blinked and found him standing over her, in all of his warmth and all of that sunlight she could practically feel on his skin.

He took her face in his hands, and she reached to grasp around his wrists – not to push him away like she’d originally planned, when it was so difficult to convince herself she didn’t want this, to be held by this man and not have the chance to regret it all later.

He brushed his thumbs across her cheekbones. “I could never forget you, Regina.”

His lips were on hers the next instant, bruising and desperate where he had always been patient in keeping his distance from her, and this was – she shouldn’t be – but they were running out of time and she knew nothing else in that moment. She stretched to her full height, body flush against his, and he moved his arms around to hold them together, hands tangling into her hair. He slanted their mouths at an angle, seeking her tongue out with his, the kiss deepening to something exquisite that threatened to lift her away.

She took his lower lip between her teeth, wanting to punish him, half-furious that he would give her this and then take it away in the same breath. His answering groan shot heat through her belly, and they separated for a brief, delirious moment, everything too much and not enough all at once.

Robin cupped a hand around the side of her neck, pressing their foreheads together as their breathing evened to something not quite so shallow, and in that space Regina’s senses finally returned to her. “You should get back to Roland.”

He nudged a kiss to her brow. “Come with me.”

“I can’t,” she whispered, eyes closing again for one helpless second as she committed the feel of his lips to memory, and then her palms slid over his chest, applying the gentlest pressure until he sighed and let her go.

The curse cloud was advancing, a roil of thunder and a jagged flash of violet light that put a more urgent spring in Robin’s steps as he threw her one final glance. There was something in his eyes – something breathless and infinite that she would never know how to say back to him – and she turned away before anything else could take the memory of that from her, too.

…

In the days that followed, she couldn’t be sure who she was anymore. She threw everything she had into her work, into Henry, in an attempt to remind herself; but all she could think about were the things that Robin used to call her – “Milady” to show her he meant it, “Your Majesty” just to watch her bristle at his tone – and how she would never be that person again, not even “Regina” the way he liked to say it when they were alone and couldn’t keep their hands off of one another.

All she could find of herself now was “Regina” the way he’d said it before letting her go, both of them breaking but resolved that they could only ever be apart – but it was fine, she would be fine, if it hadn’t been for the fact that she’d ripped up page twenty-three.

More than knowing it was the only thing she had left of him, she was ashamed to think about how it would have hurt him to see her destroy it, and so every day she returned to that place, searching for the pieces she’d scattered. It came back together section by section, until his face was all that was missing, leaning in to kiss her outside of that tavern.

Regina tore up the forest looking for it, finally resorting to magic, before she was forced to entertain the horrible notion that it had blown across the townline and she’d truly never see him again. Still she returned, at least once a day even though it was now beyond foolish to hope, telling herself she was getting ready to say goodbye.

They must have been just missing each other – their timing had never been great, after all – but then, as Regina was walking down that abandoned road, exactly as she’d been doing for weeks, she looked up and—

She couldn’t move for a moment. “Robin?”

He was there, crouched on the other side of the line, one hand anchored to the ground as he swept his gaze over the road, searching and searching for her, a little piece of her shrinking each time their eyes would have met but couldn’t.

He stared hard at the ground after some time, shoulders finally sagging in a way that made her think this wasn’t the first time he’d done this, the first time he’d been here since she watched him walk away from her.

She couldn’t move, and then she couldn’t stop running, and he couldn’t have heard her but perhaps he felt the air change, or caught a hint of her perfume, because he was scrabbling onto his feet as she ran to him, his face transformed with a smile.

She stopped when she could go no further, and then she saw what was in his hand.

Shaking, she reached for the final piece of their page, held halfway out across the town line between them, and she felt the gentle pull of him grasping onto the other side as she trailed her fingers over his face, his jawline. There were faint indentations in the paper, she noticed; Robin had scrawled something onto the back, and he let go for a moment when she turned it over for a better look.

You dropped this.

Everything blurred, and Regina swallowed back a wet-sounding chuckle, waving her hand over the page. Keep it. Something to remember us by.

She nudged it forward, and he traced out the much tidier script of her message, something wistful in his expression. No devil horns this time, she wanted to tell him, longing for that fairy tale ending in a world that had never been theirs.

Robin retrieved a pen from his pocket, angling it down toward the page. She couldn’t read him quite as well now, his smile losing its brilliance as he scribbled a note in return, and when he looked back up at her – through her, it seemed – she realized she’d been steeling herself, waiting for all of this dreaming to come to an end.

She took the page from him, and Robin attempted another smile for her, but it didn’t quite touch his eyes this time, the light in them dimming as she forced herself to look down.

I could never forget.

He half-raised his arm as if he could reach out and hold her again, his smile soft and warm and almost unbearable to her, to see what little good it would do either of them—

And then Robin took a careful step back, another world of distance now stretched out between them, and this was no place for something like hope, when the only thing left to say was goodbye.

…

“Gods, I missed you.”

He had her pinned to the wall with the front of his body pressed along her back, shuddering into her each time she rolled her hips against the length of his cock just so, and she supposed she couldn’t argue with him, but, well, where was the fun in that?

“You were not even gone a day,” she pointed out, indulging in a secret smile when his hands groped just a bit rougher around her hips, exactly like she’d known they would. They mapped out a bruising path up her ribcage to grab palmfuls of her breasts, kneading them through her corset before hooking a finger into the fabric and yanking down, hard.

“We’ve quite a bit of lost time to make up for, then, haven’t we?” He spun her around, seizing her up with his arms gripped beneath her ass for support. She thought dizzily of another time, another vault, another Robin, as he closed his mouth over one of her breasts, gems still spilling from the broken threads of her corset and plinking all over the floor.

He set her down by her wall of beating hearts, tongue trailing up her chest toward her collarbone, the curve of her throat, and there was a pleasant hum of sensation all around her, the hearts at her back and Robin – mm – murmuring hoarse promises of things in her ear while she shivered. She grasped blindly at his hair, his tunic, tugging it impatiently over his head as he slipped a hand beneath her skirts and sought out the warmth between her thighs.

He slid two fingers into her, adding a third when he found her so very wet for him, his thumb rubbing deep circles into her clit. Everything went blissfully dark for a moment, and she dragged their mouths together, their kisses breaking with sharp, moaning gasps and a groan – ”Fuck, Regina” – as she reached down and took him into her hand.

He hiked her up by the knee, dropping his forehead into the crook of her neck and sucking open-mouthed kisses up toward her jaw as she freed his cock from his trousers. She angled the tip between her folds, sliding back and forth to coat him with her as he uttered another emphatic “Fuck” in her ear.

His lips found their way to hers again, hovering together in a not-quite-kiss, their breaths hitching as he sank into her inch by spine-arching inch. They held still as he filled her, thick and hard and God, so good, and then he was pulling out and thrusting back in, building a rhythm, fucking her into the wall until she had the delirious notion that all those hearts might somehow roll away.

They collapsed in a breathless heat, all tangled limbs and half-dazed kisses that lingered, and then Robin was tugging her back and setting his mouth on her, licking and sucking and pressing into her with his tongue until she moaned his name again, trembling everywhere and pushing him off of her before it all became too much.

He had her spooned, tracing lazy circles around her belly button – still slick with their sweat – when he mentioned, almost offhandedly, “The Merry Men have agreed to officiate for us, by the way.”

She Oh?ed in mild interest as she stretched away from him.

“John has even recommended a ring bearer.”

She wanted to smile as a little boy of about six and a half now darted across her mind, the green cape he was about to outgrow getting caught in the wind behind him.

Robin’s voice was terribly careful as he went on, “There’s just that minor detail where you’ve yet to give me your answer.”

She tensed before she could help herself, half-turning toward him again without quite meeting his eye. “I thought I told you how I feel about…making a spectacle of what we have together.”

“And I thought I made it clear how I feel about you.”

She sat up, and he followed suit, warming her back and then wrapping her up from behind when she crossed her arms in front of her, though it was not the cold she was concerned with at the moment.

Robin nosed a kiss to her hair, reassuring, “There’s nothing coming after us anymore, Regina,” but what was the worst he had known when so much had already come before them? Certainly not the cruelty of Mother, or a sister she wished she didn’t have the heart to forgive, demons brought out of hell and gods who—

It was better this way, not to tempt fate by flaunting her happiness, and if they couldn’t see eye to eye on this matter, then, it wasn’t like he had a choice anyway, he…

“Robin?” He must have felt her resisting, and she recoiled in surprise when he shifted away from her, resignedly gathering his clothes and shrugging back into his trousers.

“Here, put this on.” His tone had gone strangely muted, like his thoughts had taken him elsewhere, and he didn’t wait for her to finish dressing before he rose to his knees, leaving her to stare up at him with his tunic still bunched to her chest.

He was the one who couldn’t look her in the eye this time, wavering in place for a painful half-second before bending down to kiss her forehead. “Let me know when you’re ready, darling,” he murmured, and then he was gone, and she wondered, as all those hearts beat on around her, whether hers had ever learned a damn thing.

…

iv. you loved me for what might or might not be

Everything ached when Regina opened her eyes, like her body could not be convinced it belonged to her, and she didn’t understand what was happening at first. Shadows bent and bent some more across her vision, and as she blinked to adjust, she remembered. The Queen. The apple. The sleep she had chosen in exchange for Robin’s life.

Nothing cooperated with her when she tried to move, a heaviness that she couldn’t quite place settled over her body, and when she looked up, she thought she had imagined him there.

Robin was turned away from her, his face pressed into her side, one arm draped over her middle where her arms had been folded together. He seemed solid enough, but there was no explanation she could think of to make sense of him actually being here, and if this wasn’t real then she couldn’t see what would stop her from reaching for him.

She touched a finger to his hair, as gently as she could bear it – he certainly felt real, the way he shifted toward her in answer, lifting his gaze in a dazed kind of shock – and when a slow, disbelieving smile lit up his entire face, it was as though she had finally woken up after being away from the sun for too long.

“Regina?” He leaned over her, arms strong and steady at her back as he helped her sit up, and then he was grasping her face in his hands and pressing their foreheads together, letting out a shuddering breath as he did. He gasped out a laugh when she curled her fingers around his wrists, and he seemed to realize, just as she did in that moment, that she was every bit as real to him too.

He was peppering her with kisses now, everywhere he could reach, swift, fervent things that showed his relief as much as his desperation, like she might disappear again if he stopped. Regina closed her eyes, feeling him work his way from her brow down the side of her jaw, across her cheek before lingering over her mouth.

“What are you doing here?” she breathed.

Robin nudged the tip of his nose into hers. “I had something I needed to tell you.”

He’d been on the ground beside her – it seemed that she’d found a way to bring him to his knees after all – but as he spoke he moved an arm beneath her thighs, gathering her up to him in one nimble motion.

“I love you,” he said, as he lifted her out of her hollow tree prison, “and no, I’m afraid you cannot stop me.”

Regina wobbled onto her feet when he set her back down, feeling more than lightheaded from the way he was gazing at her, and falling, she thought – swaying onto her toes as he held her more firmly against him – well, he had caught her at least once already, and not falling for him would never really be an option for her.

“I guess I should probably stop trying then,” she told him, and it was worth it for his smile alone.

“I’d say so,” Robin agreed, very serious, but she didn’t have a chance to scowl at him before he was capturing her lips with his, half-bending her over when she arched into him with a sigh. Their tongues met and held together, his mouth moving over hers with a heat that curled up her spine, her whole body stretching to get closer to him.

His hand knotted into her hair, cupping around the back of her neck and angling her sideways to deepen the kiss. He made a hoarse sound that she felt all the way to her toes, burning her everywhere, and when they parted to catch their breath – lips still brushing over one another’s, not yet willing to pull entirely away – she knew she could never settle for anything less than this now.

“We can’t stay here,” she insisted to him quietly, gazing around them while Robin nuzzled another kiss to her temple. “When the Queen realizes what you’ve done—” there was a mischievous crinkling around his eyes at that, and this time Regina managed to glare at least halfway effectively at him “—she’ll come after us both, and then – what?”

“You said ‘us,’” he pointed out, everything about him now winking, down to the very tone of his voice, but at the exasperated look that she gave him he wasted not a moment more, letting out a low whistle toward the treeline ahead.

“Ready for another adventure?” Robin held out his hand to her, and she smiled.

“Always.”

…

v. nay, both have the strength (of the love which makes us one)

She couldn’t sleep.

It should have come easier, considering how tired (so tired) she was. She’d spent more than her share of these lifetimes in some not-quite-awake state of being – missing memories, missing time itself and then somehow condemned to repeat it, like that very same tree coffin she’d once used on Snow, the irony of which would not strike her until later. All those years, and all their curses, always leading one way to take Robin further and further away from her.

In the first days of his absence, she realized she had never slept so well as when she had him beside her, wrapping her up in his warmth and lulling her under before she could even know otherwise. Waging their own private war over who could be up by first light – no contest, for a man who’d been raised by the forest – and every morning would find those twinkling blue eyes smiling down at her while she blinked and blinked, always marveling at where all that light in him came from.

Always, she’d told him, once upon a time.

The moon was tucked away behind clouds when she padded her way outside, hugging her arms together to keep the breeze at bay. She should have thrown on another layer, she thought, but her senses welcomed the cold, coming alive in a way that felt like an act of defiance with all this blank, dark nothing that surrounded her.

She walked on, hardly aware of what drew her forward, until she saw him there, waiting.

He leaned his back into her tree when she approached, his gaze warming as he took in the sight of her. She shyly tucked the ends of his tunic over her knees before reaching to fiddle with the hair by her ear, something she’d never grow out of with him.

Robin smiled crookedly at her. “Looks good on you.”

“There’s someone I know who wears it better,” she shrugged, and he tugged his lower lip between his teeth in answer.

“I suppose I can’t argue with you on that one.”

“I wouldn’t try if I were you,” she told him, a teasing echo of every uncivil thing she’d ever thrown in his direction – so long ago now, it seemed – and for a moment she wanted to lose herself in this memory of them, to run hand-in-hand for the horizon with him until reality couldn’t catch up anymore.

“I miss you,” she said, but still those other words wouldn’t come out.

“And I you.”

But she shook her head like he didn’t understand what she’d meant, trying again, “Robin, I—”

“I know,” he broke in gently, shifting away from her tree and coming to stand just in front of her. His hand reached for hers, glowing a faint blue and passing right through her when he tried to make contact. “I never needed to hear it, Regina. Please know that.”

She nodded, eyes burning, and she hated that she had to look away from him to blink out that awful sensation, but Robin only stepped closer, ghosting a kiss over her lashes. When she closed her eyes she could almost feel him again, there with her, taking her hand as he talked about futures and page twenty-threes.

“Rest now,” he whispered. “I think you already have your answer.”

She woke before daybreak, moving instinctively toward the other side of her bed. It was chilled to the touch, the sheets pristine, the pillows with hardly a wrinkle, and she almost hated them for it. Why had it ever mattered at all to her whether they slept on a bed or stooped like vagrants out in the damn woods, so long as he knew – he had to know, she had to tell him—

She didn’t bother searching her castle – every room told the same vacant story of a place that had never seen the sun, he had never truly belonged here – and she didn’t bother with shoes when she blasted the front doors apart.

The stables were a hillock away, and she took off in a run, the momentum nearly tumbling her down faster than her strides could sustain. When she arrived she found herself breathless for entirely new reasons, unable to bear the thought that he might have already left her.

She heard a soft slumbering sound in the corner, and it took the last of her strength not to simply crumple on top of him. He startled half-awake when she brushed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, making a questioning noise before turning to meet her.

“Hi,” she said, touching a hand to his jawline and kissing him again.

“Hi yourself,” he returned, maneuvering back up against the hay, folding his arms around her as she scooted closer. “Did you really walk all that way here wearing this?” He plucked at the edges of his tunic, rucked up about thigh-high on her now.

“I had something urgent to discuss with you, and it really couldn’t wait.”

“Oh?” He gave the ends of her hair a playful tug, working his fingers through the knots that her trek through the wind had just made. “You look terrible, by the way.”

She caught his hand with hers, meaning to deter him, but he only raised them to his mouth instead, planting a kiss to her knuckles. Those dimples peeked out at her, and she touched her fingers to them, feeling inexplicably shy when he pressed another kiss to the inside of her palm.

“It’s all right,” he told her. “I have a feeling I already know.”

She made a sound of protest as he scooped her into his lap, winding her arms around his neck to steady herself as she looked down her nose at him and said, very stiffly, “I doubt that.”

Robin leaned them further back into the haystacks, mmming in a politely interested fashion, and she toyed with the back of his collar, making rigid squares of her shoulders and pursing her lips disdainfully together before realizing that she was stalling.

He cleared his throat after a moment, settling in with a comfortable groan and acting for all the world as though he intended to doze off right there, in the middle of her very important confession. Well, perhaps he just wouldn’t get to hear it, if he was determined to be this uncooperative. No skin off her back, she—

“For the record,” he murmured, eyes already closing, “I love you too, Regina.”

She froze, wondering, but he seemed to be giving her space, patiently stroking his hands up and down her back until she relaxed into him with a shaken but satisfied sigh. It felt right, more right than she would ever believe herself ready for (always), but this man was her future, and theirs a new story, and this time – this time – there was only the hope of forever ahead.

subtitles adapted from christina rossetti’s “i loved you first: but afterwards your love”

[amillionmillionvoices]

WIP Folder Meme

Tagged by @lodessa - Thank you, hon! 

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

The Worst Witch (Hicsqueak)

Winter fic

FUCK ME

Letters

Accidentally!married

Assassin!AU

Bedtime stories 

TCA Hicsqueak

Road trip

Hecate + dad 

Post season finale

Lose baby magic

Shopping

Coffee shop au 

Punching

Much Ado Hicsqueak AU

Hades and Persephone

Vampire!AU

Broomhead

Cuddling

Fairy rings

Doctor Who (River/Doctor)

Lakefic

TATM rewrite

Post-TATM

Darillium show

Fake dating

Enchanted

R/12 ghost

Love actually

Forget

Doctor’s choice

Twister AU

Rory rewrite

It takes you away

Time heist

Frost fair

Stormcage fail

FBI fic

Tca AU

Photographs

Library fic blue

Librarian AU

Once Upon a Time

OUAT letters (Regina + Henry)

Bandit AU (Regina + Henry)

OUAT sq painting (SwanQueen)

Oq au (OQ)

Mother (Regina + Henry)

Last rites OUAT (Currently OQ but shifting to SQ)

OUAT real world (SQ)

Juilliard au (OQ)

OUAT sq dark one (SQ)

Oq white magic  (OQ)

Christmas sq (SQ)

Leverage

Nate/Sophie 

Nate/Sophie Christmas

Priest AU

Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries

Mfmm

Mfmm2

Upstairs Downstairs

Blancheportia

Tagging: @atheneglaukopis @mygalfriday @cassiopeiasara @sonickedtrowel @foxx-queen @queer-cheer @mnemosyne-musing @melodypond-thewomanwhomarriedme @bonnissance @onaperduamedee @queenology @victorianlesbian @xhellnhighheelsx @tinkerbellxoxo

[siren1song]

man, you guys remember my ship playlists? i just made a roceit one because @ratherstarryeyed got me in the mood and with the last sanders sides episode i figured id give roceit stans some fluff

Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande

Just the Way You Are by Bruno Mars

Unconditionally by Katy Perry

I Kissed a Boy by Jupither

Bad Ideas by Tessa Violet

Toxic (The Voice Performance) by Melanie Martinez (for those uncomfortable with the artist, the original works too)

Partners in Crime by Set It Off and Ash Costello

Hypnotic by Zella Day

Symphony by Clean Bandit and Zara Larsson

In the Name of Love by Martin Garrix and Bebe Rexha

Rewrite The Stars by Zac Efron and Zendaya

Jenny by Studio Killers

Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood

Royalty by Conor Maynard

Ocean Eyes (Astronomyy Edit) by Billie Eilish and Astronomyy

True Colors (Film Version) by Anna Kendrick and Justin Timberlake

Falling for U by Peachy! and mxmtoon

Stereo Hearts by Gym Class Heroes and Adam Levine

Guillotine by Jon Bellion

One Call Away by Charlie Puth

I Will Follow You Into The Dark by Death Cab for Cutie

Tongue Tied by Grouplove

Would You Be So Kind by dodie

Crush by Tessa Violet

Gold by Britt Nicole

cliche by mxmtoon

In Love by khai dreams

Talk to Me by Cavetown

Sunkissed by khai dreams

Can’t Help Falling in Love by Haley Reinhart

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7jz3SuEDWxzuR4LWVSoXvA?si=l3eQbGLcQT26xRb1m4h-oQ

[phoenixshine]

And last, but certainly not least, my OQHappyEnding Week manips, a very happy week organized by our fave, @starscythe!

I admit, I love these the most ;)

[believingispowerfulmagic]

OQ Prompt Party Day 3: “Unexpected Complications”

Written for Day 3 of OQ Prompt Party 2020 using prompt 107. Bandit OQ AU: evil snow throws a masquerade ball and both bandit Regina and Robin Hood attend it with a plan to steal from the queen. but there is a change of plan as you bump into each other

           Why did she think this was a good plan?

           Regina cursed herself as she stood in line with the others, wearing a dress she had stolen from some noblewoman’s carriage earlier in the week. Hopefully that woman wasn’t there than night or if she was, she wouldn’t recognize her stolen dress. She probably had so many, she didn’t know what she had.

           At least, Regina hoped that was the case.

           Moving toward the entrance, she tried to look like she belonged there and that she always wore such opulent ballgowns. This one was made from a light blue colored brocade with off the shoulder bell sleeves made of a gauzy material that matched the pale blue color of the skirts she wore under the outer shell of the dress. Jewels encrusted the neckline and she planned to cut them out one by one was she was back in the safety of her tree stump, knowing they would fetch several coins. She would just have to sell them in a different place than where she sold the sapphire studded necklace she wore around her neck so as not to raise suspicions.

              She worried about her hair as she looked at all the other women waiting to enter the ball. Theirs were piled atop their head in elaborate styles, jewels and items sewn in amongst their locks. Regina wondered how they kept their balance and wondered if those styles hurt. But they did also make her subconscious about her simple side ponytail, the best she could do. She had decided to brush her curls until they shone and fell softly over her shoulder, so maybe that would be enough for now.

           After all, she just needed to get into the ball. It would then give her access to the palace and then she could head to the royal treasury to liberate some of Snow’s gold. There was something poetic about the queen unknowingly funding Regina’s escape from her grasp.

           “Invitation?” the black guard at the door asked. She held out the invitation she had swiped off another noblewoman and he took it, studying it and her. Her heart pounding as she feared he would recognize her even behind the blue mask that covered the top half of her face.

           He nodded at last and stepped aside to give her access to the entrance. “Welcome to the queen’s masquerade, Lady Macbeth.”

           “Thank you,” she said, entering the palace. The first part of her plan had gone off without hitch. Now to execute the second part – sneaking off to the treasury.

           She hit her first snag there. Black guards lined the hallway leading to the ballroom, funneling all guests to the room. Regina would not be able to sneak off right away, she realized with a sinking feeling as she joined the parade of nobles in their elaborate finery on the way to the ballroom. She would need to recalibrate her plan once she got into the ballroom and gauge the situation better.

           “Name?” another black guard asked her. They stood at the top of the grand staircase that would lead into the ballroom. Regina glanced down, spotting all the people gathered there already. Most were standing around in small groups, talking, while some already started to enjoy the buffet meal lay out for them.

           She looked back at the guard, recalling the name she had been addressed by earlier. “Lady Macbeth.”

           “Do you wish to be announced?” he asked.

           “No,” she said, her heart jumping to her throat. The last thing she needed was for someone who knew the real Lady Macbeth to be at the ball and to reveal her charade. “I will just enter.”

           He nodded, stepping back and allowing her to descend the stairs. She held her skirts up as she carefully walked down in the unfamiliar heels she had stolen from the carriage. They were a size too small and her feet already hurt. She knew they would soon grow numb so she couldn’t waste much time in the ballroom. Hopefully she would find an escape route quickly.

           Regina moved through the crowd, trying to stay to the edges of the room. She wanted to scope out any possible exits and if they were being guarded. Then she could slip away when the time was right. If everything went well, she could be gone before Queen Snow White ever entered the ballroom.

           Because she was certain the queen would be able to recognize her even with the mask. And she would not care about the ball – she would let nothing stop her from finally capturing and killing Regina.

           After taking a turn around the room, she felt she had good idea of the setup. There were guards posted at most exits, no doubt to keep people from wondering off from the ballroom. So she was likely not to slip away from the room. That left the gardens as her best chance. While there were several entrances to the gardens, she doubted there would be guards at all of them. Not many people would know about them except for those intimately acquainted with the palace, which she was. She knew where to exit the gardens and get to the royal treasury. From there, she knew how to make her ultimate escape from the palace.

           She just had to bide her time. No doubt Snow White would make a grand entrance. While everyone was distracted by the queen, Regina would slip out and avoid being spotted. It was dangerous but doable.

           Now she played the waiting game.

Continue reading on FFN, AO3 or Wattpad

[kimberlyann89]

Find someone who looks at you the way Robin looks at Regina as she’s about the crash his wedding...