This is Love
It was the uncertainty, the heavy-heartedness he felt every single time he looked at her, every single time she looked away, that led him to the water's edge. It was as if a pile of stones has been set upon his chest, his heart, slowly crushing him to death. It was as if he was chasing some childish fantasy, still stuck in the innocence of the past. And every single time she rejected him, it was a smack to the face to bring him out of that idealistic world, back into the cold, harsh reality. She didn't love him. She didn't love him at all.
But what could he expect from an ex Evil Queen? That she'd suddenly have this epiphany and see things the way he saw them? What did he expect from someone who was so broken, so alone, so afraid of love even to the point of reaching the incapability of loving or being loved? What did he expect?
She was no optimist, unlike him. The light was long gone. He knew that all too well. And he knew what the darkness had done. It had eaten her alive to the point of no return. Who is he to think he can save her now? And after the loss of her son to another realm, it seemed as though this whole endeavor was a lost cause.
Why was he trying so hard? What was he to get from this aside from the desperate, burdening heartache that came with it night and day? He remembered the first time he had laid eyes upon her. She was beautiful, regal, the epitome of perfection. He remembered the way his eyes grazed over her body eagerly, hungrily, like the uncultured man of dirt and forest he was. And he cursed himself for that. Over and over.
Witty sarcastic remarks and constant banter were but a game to him. He loved how he'd have her riled up, perhaps even a little too much. Pushing the Queen to her limit was such a rush, exhilarating and fun. It was a dangerous game he'd play. It was dangerous to toy with fire. Yet somehow he never got burned. Somehow, he'd always got away with it.
That was when he'd thought she'd love him. Perhaps she had put up with him because she'd enjoyed it. But no. She rejected his advances to the point where she wouldn't even reject them any longer. She'd ignore him. Yet even in her reject, in her neglectfulness, he'd seen the doubt. He'd seen the fear. And it was sending him mixed messages. Perhaps she too was terrified.
So what was the point in all of this? Why the mindless arguments and banter? Why the sensual, sexual advances? Must it all have had to come down to the ultimate reason being the way she looks?
But then what about her, the real her, underneath all of that makeup and ostentatious garb? He remembered the way she looked at him the first time, with darkness and sorrow in her eyes. He remembered the way she'd talked about not being able to move on, not having anything to live for except to kill. Oh how he'd wanted to hold her right then and there. Oh how he'd wanted to fix everything for her, and make it right again. How he'd wanted to give her the happy ending she so desired. All right. Perhaps he wasn't so conceited and lustful as he had thought he was.
But this didn't make it any better. For the first time, the man who always had a plan, who always came prepared and ready, did not know what to do. The great notorious Robin Hood was lost. He was lost in the never-ending path, bound and shackled by the chains of love, never knowing where to turn.
"You seem upset," a silky voice suddenly called to him. Robin lifted his head slowly and gazed toward the glistening waters. He scanned its surface silently, unemotionally.
"You're searching for something," the voice continued in its sweet and sultry tone. It was one that made his blood run cold. Yet, he remained adamant that he not real. He was no fool.
"Why do you say this?", Robin asked, breaking his silence.
"Because anyone who dares come to these waters is searching for something; whether that be something lost, or something that has yet to be found," the voice answered.
"Who are you?", he demanded lowly.
"Me? Why my dear, I am the answer."
Suddenly the waters at the center of the lake began to ripple. And a pool of light gathered beneath its surface. It slowly extended out from the center like that of the ripples, covering the entire expanse of the lake. Soon enough, the waters were glowing with a soft blue light that grew with intensity until the waters broke, and ascending from underneath was a figure of a woman. She rose from the depth of the lake like that of a spirit, a deity. Silver hair caught the moon's light as her gossamer transparent gown billowed around her. Her skin was pale, and shimmered with the droplets of water upon it. She was, with no doubt, beautiful.
She walked towards Robin, arms outstretched and open to him, floating daintily on the surface of the water. Upon her lips was a smile, a deviant, cunning, and cryptic smile. Her charcoal eyes bore into his, seeing right into his very soul, seeing all.
"It is a shame to see such a brave, young man so broken and helpless," the Siren remarked condescendingly.
"It is none of your concern," Robin snapped, taking a step backward from her advances.
"I'm afraid it is," the woman retorted, stepping towards him once more. "You are in need. You are searching for something." She reached her hand up, cupping his cheek gently. Robin froze under her touch, his skin prickling with sensation. "And I just so happen to be able to give you everything you want, everything of which you are in search." She leaned close, her lips brushing his. And all of the breath escaped. "All you have to do, is kiss me."
Robin had closed his eyes, but suddenly one sentence was enough to bring him back to reality. So with a swift movement, he pushed her away, hastily drawing his bow and arrow.
"No," he hissed adamantly, "I know who you are, witch, and I will not succumb and fall prey to your deception."
The Siren glared at him, her lip curling in an animalistic snarl. But after a moment, she composed herself once more and shook her head. She gazed back at Robin and lifted an eyebrow. She stared at him incredulously.
"I see," the seductress responded simply, "You are immune to me. I must give my congratulations. For you are the first." She stepped back once more, a fiendish smirk forming on her lips. "But this isn't over yet my handsome Prince of Thieves. Perhaps we try a different approach."
With one smooth gesture, the Siren stooped down and scooped up a pool of water from the lake. And upon bringing it over her head and letting it rain down upon her face, her features began to change. Her hair darkened. Her makeup thickened and grew more dramatic. Her thin, frail lips became fuller and more luscious, turning a shade of crimson. Her soft and delicate facial structures grew more intense and crisp. And there in but moments, standing before him in clothes still that of the Siren, was the exact copy of the Evil Queen.
"Like me more now, Robin?", the Siren asked in the low sultry voice that of the Queen, as she began to approach her victim once more.
"No," Robin whispered, dropping his bow and arrow. "No. This is an illusion. It's not true."
"But sometimes illusions are better than truth," the Siren responded, opening her arms to him once more. Robin swallowed hard and forced himself to take a step backward. Everything inside of him screamed for him to run. But he remained rooted to the ground.
"Anything that you desire…," the Siren whispered as she came close to him once more, "Anything that you desire, I can give to you." Her hands snaked up his torso, feeling their way up his sides, onto his chest, to his shoulders, and his neck. "All you have to do is kiss me."
A small moan escaped Robin's lips as the Siren's hands, appearing exactly like those of the Queen's cupped the back of his neck and stroked his cheek.
"No," he whispered once more, his eyes fluttering closed at the pleasure that suddenly began to flare deep down within his groin. And soon, his pants began to tighten as he felt his body responding in ways he'd never thought. "No."
"Yes," the Siren countered however, her voice echoing his mind sweet and syrupy, sounding exactly like the woman he so loved. "Yes my Robin. Don't doubt yourself. Everything you ever wanted is right here, right in front of you now. You can have this. You can have me. You just have to let yourself go…and kiss me."
Robin let out another strangled moan. Oh how he fought this with every fiber of his being. But the temptation was too strong. So it is with a groan that he captures her lips, savoring in the sweet taste that he'd fantasized and had been denied of for so long. Warmth bloomed in his chest and heart. And when he pulled away, he saw nothing but his beautiful Queen, standing right there in front of him in the flesh. His.
"Oh Regina," he murmured, suddenly taking the back of her neck and urging her lips to his once more, kissing her fervently.
Against her victim's lips, the Siren smiled. She wrapped her arms around him as he did her and pressed the man flush against her body, his erection digging into her lower stomach. "Yes that's right, Robin. It's me," she whispered happily, "I love you. I will always love you."
Robin moaned aloud, allowing himself to be taken by the facade that was his beloved Queen. This was what he wanted. This was all he wanted; for her to accept him, for her to love him as he did her.
"Regina," he breathed gently, the name on his tongue like a prayer when he pulled from her lips to gaze into those beautiful eyes; those eyes he was just born to gaze into. Robin smiled softly, that is until his eyes connected with hers. He cupped her cheeks, staring intently at them with a furrowed brow. Surely they resembled that of the Queen. But they weren't the profound pools of chocolate in which he'd find he would spend hours lost. No. They had the Queen's looks, but lacked something more. They lacked the overwhelming glitter of emotion. They lacked the sorrow and despair, the darkness. They lacked the pain gained from the loss of love. They lacked the loneliness and suffering. They lacked the fire, the passion.
"No," Robin stated, suddenly pulling away from the impostor. "No. It's not you. This is not real."
"What?", the Siren asked, still in the form of the Queen, "What do you mean, my love? This doesn't feel real?"
She reached forward and closed the gap once more, pressing her lips to his again in a searing kiss. But Robin knew the truth.
"No," he repeated, this time harshly pulling away. "This isn't love."
"Yes it is," the Siren stated desperately, reaching towards him, "I love you."
"You don't," Robin said, stepping backward, "This isn't what love is. This isn't what true love is."
"But what I've given to you, what I've easily given to you-"
"-was a fake. It was far too easy. And now I know the difference. Love doesn't work like that. It must be fought for with the highest honor and dignity." Robin shook his head and took another step backward. "I was wrong in coming here. I was selfish. But now I know. That anger I've felt, that pity, that anxiety, that burden, that lust…it's all part of it. I need it. I need it to show her how I feel. I need it to fight for her, to bring her out of the darkness and into the light of love."
The Siren stood before him beyond seething. Her dark eyes seared into his as he spoke, and her heart filled with rage from rejection burst. And she lunged for him with a blood-curdling scream of anger. But Robin caught her swiftly by the neck, holding her in place. And with his free hand, he loosened the knife on his belt and raised it high. Beautiful chocolate eyes, eyes like that of his beloved Regina, stared back at him, suddenly filled with so much sadness. And his heart broke.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, and he brought the knife down upon her. The moment the knife had plunged deep within the heart of the Siren, the Siren's features changed back, and her body fell limp at his feet.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Robin lifted his head to the sky and breathed.