First OQ week prompt: Masquerade Ball.

Set early in the Missing Year and betaed by the wonderful TBuddah!

Enjoy!

Dropping the masks

Regina loathed the whole idea and she had every intention to make it known. Snow had forced her hand into accepting to attend this Masquerade Ball as some sort of celebration for successfully taking back the castle, but if her stepdaughter thought for one second she was going to quietly socialise with people she, for the most part despised, she had another thing coming.

How the Charmings did it she had no idea. Keeping their hopes up, raising everyone's spirits, celebrating, when the only thing she wanted to do was crawl into bed and cry for several weeks, months, years. Not that it would help, nothing helped. Henry was gone, living a normal life with his other mother, with no knowledge of what had been, what was left behind. He'd crossed the town line with the woman he had wanted so badly to replace her, Emma, whom Regina gave her own memories to while she herself was brought back to this cursed land, this dreadful realm she had no trouble leaving in the first place.

That was probably the major difference between her and the Charmings. They had each other, would probably always have each other, and she had no one. Snow would certainly argue with that but things were as they were. She was alone and grieving and in absolutely no hurry to get to the ballroom.

She was already running almost an hour late, and the closer she got to the room, the slower her steps became. She took a deep breath, not an easily accomplished feat given what she was wearing, and, with a flick of her hand, opened the double doors.

The loud bang that echoed throughout the room as the doors hit the walls startled everyone. Robin turned towards the entrance just like everyone else. She is stunning, was his first thought, followed closely by, she certainly knows how to make an entrance, not that it surprised him. Even with the feathered black mask partially concealing her face, there was no doubt as to who the figure clad in the satiny black, strapless, ball gown belonged to.

As his eyes took her in, he wondered how she could possibly breathe in such a tight corset, but he certainly couldn't complain. He appreciated what it was doing to her cleavage, curves on full display, enhanced by the jewels lining the top, and Robin could feel his mouth watering, his blood rushing south. He adjusted himself discreetly, and he would bet he wasn't the only one to do so, but probably the only one who would willingly admit to it. There was no denying the Queen was one of the most sublime creatures he had ever set eyes on, and he had difficulty understanding how anyone in this strange assembly could possibly compare her to Snow White. They were not playing in the same court and that was quite obvious.

He was distracted from his thoughts by his boy, who had suddenly taken off and was running in the Queen's direction. Roland had been insistent on his costume for the ball, and Robin still wondered where the Princess Snow White and the old woman, Granny, had managed to procure a knight outfit that wouldn't be too much trouble fitting to Roland's small frame. The Queen had called his boy her little knight, a nickname that had stuck, and, if the half-smile she was trying to fight was anything to go by, she certainly appreciated the gesture. That, or the flowers Roland had painstakingly picked out this afternoon before they got ready for the evening, and was now giving to her.

Some of his men were exchanging worried looks as they observed the little boy and the Queen. A couple of them even seemed to consider stepping in as Roland took one of Regina's hands and led her to a less crowded side of the room, but Robin stopped them with a frown and a shake of his head. The Queen had saved his boy's life, that alone had earned his trust. He had been given the chance to peek behind the harsh façade she erected for the world and had gotten a glimpse of the sad and broken woman hiding behind. He wouldn't let anyone treat her like some sort of pariah, not if he could help it.

The moment she set foot in the room she was aware of his eyes on her, even if everyone was looking at her. She hadn't realised until now how much this man had ingrained himself in her life, in her thoughts. She barely knew him, had met him only a few short weeks ago, but he was everywhere, they were always crossing paths, and she had no idea how to feel about it. He knew who she was, what she had done and still kept seeking her company. He even let his son near her. It baffled her completely. Most people here did everything they could to stay out of her way but not him. There was something about this Robin Hood she couldn't explain and that intrigued and annoyed her.

Regina groaned internally when she saw Snow approaching her determinedly. and she groaned internally. She was saved, however, by a small boy running towards her, wearing a knight outfit and holding a bouquet of wild flowers. Roland was adorable. He stopped right in front of her and, after throwing everyone a sharp look, and watching as they turned away, she got down to his level and took the flowers he was offering.

"Thank you, Roland. They're beautiful." She told him, a small smile burgeoning on her lips, and he responded in kind, his dimples deepening.

She resisted the temptation to look for his father. It was a mask-ball after all, and she wasn't supposed to be able to recognize anyone. She was the Evil Queen though, and, for years, her survival depended on her observation skills. A few costumes would not stop her.

Roland led her to a corner, and she twirled him in rhythm with the music until he was dizzy. He asked for tricks then and his request gave her pause. To this boy her magic wasn't harmful. It had protected him against the flying monkey, and it was fun, with colourful lights and animated toys appearing out of thin air. All those things she never had the chance to share with Henry and it broke something inside her. Her son associated her magic with sleeping curses and taking out hearts and absorbing lethal doses of power in her own body. He had even wanted to destroy it once. It meant pain and death, but to Roland, it was almost pure, and she would make sure it stayed that way.

Almost two hours passed before the little outlaw got really tired. His eyes drooped more and more, little fists rubbing at them as he leant against her. She debated taking him back to his room, using it as an excuse to leave without seeming rude, but he wasn't her son, and, even if she could care less about what people thought, she didn't want to have to endure the whispers and the questioning looks. The giant, everyone ironically called Little John, took the choice out of her hands, literally, by scooping the boy into his own arms. Roland waved at her tiredly over John's shoulder, and she waved back.

Robin observed them from afar, amazed at how Roland responded to the Queen. His boy had taken a shine to her so quickly, he who had never really known a maternal presence in his life. A mother without a son, a son without a mother, a well-matched pair they were, he thought, as he watched Roland wave goodbye.

Robin advanced towards the Queen, but the Prince, Robin thought it was him anyway, beat him to it. Although the Queen didn't seem very interested in what the other man was saying. During the conversation, her eyes locked with his across the room, and Robin felt a sudden surge of confidence. He crossed the room the rest of the way and stopped right in front of her, completely ignoring the Prince, not saying a word, only offering his hand for her to take just as the orchestra started playing a waltz.

Regina was vaguely conscious of his advance towards her, and she looked him over from the corner of her eyes. He cleans up nice, was her first thought, very closely followed by, why on Earth is he heading towards me like that? He had improved his usual outfit, the tailored white shirt, forest green jacket and black dress pants probably came from Charming's wardrobe, but they fit the thief rather well.

She didn't have time to wonder further about his appearance or his intentions, as suddenly, David was standing right in front of her. So much for being observant, she mused, mentally rolling eyes at herself. He asked her to dance but, even if they were trying to sell the co-ruling, there was no way she was going to accept such an offer when it had most likely been suggested by Snow. She had no wish to be here, and she certainly wasn't going to accept anyone's pity.

At some point, Regina decided to ignore the Shepherd, and instead turned her attention back to the thief. Their eyes locked, and she narrowed hers slightly as she watched him cover the distance separating them swiftly. She looked at him intently, dark eyes getting lost in blue ones, as she waited for him to talk, to tell her why he had crossed the whole room to come to her corner, but he didn't say a word.

He offered his hand, and she looked between it and his face several times before it dawned on her. It was a Masquerade Ball, they were all wearing masks, and tonight, they could pretend they were other people, whatever happened tonight could be forgotten in the morning.

He was giving her the opportunity to pretend she was not the Queen, and that he was not the Outlaw who was slowly but surely getting under her skin.

It was complete and utter madness, but she accepted, took his hand and let him lead her to the centre of the room just as the orchestra switched to a waltz, leaving a dumbfounded David behind.

They fit, he thought as he clasped her left hand in his right and settled his left around her waist, eye contact never breaking.

They moved seamlessly, as if they had danced together all their lives, as if they had been made to dance together all their lives. It was a strange feeling, how right this was. He barely knew her, but, at the same time, there was some part of him that felt recognition each time she was near.

They whirled in the centre of the room, never exchanging a word, none felt necessary. They didn't notice how the other couples slowly stopped dancing to watch them. They were lost in their own little world, and one dance turned into two, then three, and before either of them realised it, midnight struck and the spell was broken.

One second he was holding her against him, and the next, she was leaving the room in a hurry.

It had been a long time since Regina had danced like that. The last time was probably when Leopold was still alive. She hadn't cared about any of that once she had become "the Evil Queen". There had been a few invitations, by neighbouring kings, eager to stay on her good side, and she usually had honoured them with her presence, but she had never danced there, not at all willing to have unwanted, grabby, wandering hands on her. Not ever again.

His hands didn't feel like that, his right clasped in her left one was warm, strong, calloused, his left around her waist never stirred, never applied more pressure than necessary. His touch was not lewd or lascivious, but rather attentive and strong. It seemed the outlaw had some gentlemanly traits to him.

When she had danced with Leopold, she would look everywhere but him, always wondering when it would end, when she would be allowed to get to the solitude of her chambers.

This time, however, she couldn't look away from Robin. They were in sync, anticipating the other's next step, never making a wrong move, never breaking the rhythm, always adapting to the changing music. She felt- dare she think it- safe, like she might actually enjoy herself, which also felt terrifying. She had lost count of how long they had been there, only aware of the diminishing space between them, when midnight struck.

It was like a wake-up call for her. What was she doing? What were they doing? Panic gripped her, and she acted instinctively and fled.

Robin followed after her. She hadn't gone far, just a corridor away so she wouldn't be visible from the ballroom. She was facing the wall, leaning against it, and he approached her cautiously, making enough noise so she wouldn't be startled.

"Your Majesty, I apologize if I offended you in any way. It was never my intention." He said, surprised when she turned around, looking confused.

"You think you offended me?" She asked, brow furrowing, and he wondered if he imagined the tears in her eyes.

"I can't imagine what else would cause you to run away." He replied, tilting his head to the side.

She seemed to ponder her response as she looked away from him, lifting her hand to cover her stomach.

"You did nothing wrong. I just felt it was time to put an end to the dance. I wouldn't want people to talk unnecessarily. They have quite an imagination and you don't want false rumours to be spread about your association with me." She said in what was probably supposed to be a hard and confident tone, but Robin didn't buy it.

"I can decide that for myself. I'm not one to care about rumours or other people's opinions, and I didn't think you were either." He retorted, and her eyes snapped back to his, narrowing, her mouth thinned, drawing his gaze toward her lips.

"I don't, but are you certain you want everyone to see you trust me with your son?" She inquired, and Robin shook his head, amused.

"Considering my son grew up in the forest, surrounded by men who don't really care about good manners or sometimes even proper hygiene, I really believe spending time with the Queen is rather an improvement."

"Even if she is Evil?" She asked softly, grimacing a bit.

"I raised Roland so he would always believe that people can change, and as long as they are willing to work for it, they are deserving of a second chance. It would be rather hypocritical of me to regard you as unredeemable when so many among my own men, and I won't even talk about my own past, came to me for a chance to start over. I don't think you're the same person who left this land all those years ago and I don't think you chose this path, but I won't speculate. After all, we have only just met."

During his little speech, Robin had slowly walked closer, giving Regina time to stop him if she felt uncomfortable, which she didn't do, and his last sentence was whispered against her cheek as he breathed her in.

She had initially backed fully against the wall when he started reducing the distance between them, but his words and his eyes appeased her a bit, and some of the tension lifted from her shoulders. She closed her eyes as she felt his breath against her skin, the smell of forest clinging to him, surrounding her.

He usually stood closer than anybody else ever dared, even Snow, and she didn't know how she was supposed to react to that. Acknowledging it would have meant acknowledging the effect he had on her, not acknowledging it would probably have given the message that it was alright for him to continue, and she was not sure she wanted that either. This was more though, he was closer than ever before, but she didn't want to push him away.

"Maybe it's time to drop the masks." He murmured, taking off his and raising his hand to untie the knot of the ribbon at the back of her head. Both masks slid against her dress and fell to the ground, but neither of them cared much. Their eyes locked again.

"It's madness, but since we met I can't get you out of my thoughts. You're everywhere, and I feel like I know you somehow, as if some part of me recognizes you." Robin whispered and Regina's initial response was a snort because he is the one who is everywhere, invading her every thought, but then her breath hitched.

What he had just said, about a part of him recognizing her, something about that hit too close to home, and she wondered if this was what she was supposed to have all those years ago, when Tinkerbell led her to the tavern, led her to her soulmate, and she was too afraid to go in. What if- no this was ridiculous and impossible, not after all this time.

Her expression must have betrayed her troubled thoughts because he leant even closer, their foreheads almost touching, before saying,

"You feel it too, don't you?" She couldn't stop herself from nodding, his presence clouding her brain, her usual defence mechanisms ineffective. Her eyes dropped from his to his lips, and he didn't miss it.

In an instant he brushed her lips with his, a fleeting contact, not even giving her enough time to close her eyes and feel it fully, and she felt a frown pull at her lips as he straightened up.

This wouldn't do, she thought, as she seized the lapels of his borrowed jacket and brought his lips back to hers. She felt him smile against her lips, the action provoking her to bite his gently in retaliation. His arms surrounded her, one around her waist, one buried in her hair as he combed through her dark tresses, as they deepened the kiss.

Tonight meant nothing, it was a Masquerade, even if they no longer wore their masks, what happened could be ignored. At least, that's how she justified it. He had been getting under her skin since the moment they met, and she was only getting it out of her system. Tomorrow, she would go back to her solitude, she would push him away again, she would drown in her self-loathing and her grief. He may think she was worth it but she knew better. Whatever pull they felt towards one another, whatever effect he had on her, she would stifle it all. He and his son would only get hurt if they stayed close.

Tomorrow, she would ignore him, but tonight, just for tonight, she would let herself be cared for.

The End

Next one on Friday, for the mythology prompt. I had an idea for the being caught one but not enough to write it so I'll probably post it later.