This is totally AU, set pre-curse, pre-Emma, pre-Henry, pre-everything-that-ever-happened-on-the-show.
On top of that I won't stick to anything that was ever established as canon on the show, that also applies to how the magic works or how the characters interact with one another. I'm just here to brew my own potion while borrowing certain ingredients from the show, yo. Anything that you might consider wrong in terms of magic is actually correct in my version of the Enchanted Forest.
PLOT:
At some point, when she was still the Evil Queen in the Enchanted Forest, Regina lost all of her memories. Unsure about who she is, or how she came to be standing in the middle of a busy market square dressed in nothing but rags, she embarks upon a quest to find out her true identity. What she finds isn't exactly what she expected, nor is it something she can hide from for long. Luckily, a certain Prince of Thieves is there to help Regina through it all.
Chapter 1: Let's Start At The Very Beginning
She was staring at images on a smudged canvas where familiar colors lay mixed with unknown stains. There were faces there and names that should fit but did not quite belong together. Places and events that should be connected but somehow made no coherent sense when put next to each other. Then, corruption had planted a seed inside her mind, had twisted everything she knew into disjointed puzzle pieces and put them back inside an equally disjointed narrative. She only had a moment to consider the implications, for as she tried to fit every piece back where it belonged they slipped away just as fast, cascading down a waterfall into a deep abyss, out of reach. For a fleeting second she felt compelled to jump in after the pieces, hold onto what she knew to be true. But her feet refused to move, an invisible rope pulling her back from the edge, ensuring her safety without her permission.
"Witch?"
She looked up, only marginally aware of the small bottle that slipped from her fingers and shattered to the ground. A young man stood in front of her. His long black hair tied back in a ponytail, conspicuous silver eyes fixed on hers.
"Well?" he asked. "Did it work?"
"W-work?" she said, the sound of her voice as unfamiliar to her ears as the buzzing noises coming from the square in front of them.
The young man frowned.
"Their location? Can you sense where they are now?"
"W-what do you mean?" she stuttered, looking the man up and down once more. Some dirt clung to his leather jacket and his shirt, which must have been white at some point, now appeared faded to yellow from weeks, if not years, of wear and sweat.
"What do you mean, what do I mean?" the man said, his voice rising a notch.
"I -" she began, but faltered. "Do we know each other?"
For a moment the man looked stricken as if he had been punched in the face by some invisible force and didn't quite know whether to laugh it off or be thoroughly offended.
"Are you joking?" He asked, suspicion rising in his voice before continuing, "I may not be as well trained in magic as you, but I sure as hell won't be made to look a fool by a witch in rags whom supposedly drank the wrong potion!" he hollered, motioning between them at the ground. Shards of the broken bottle lay scattered on the pavement, a few drops of a sparkling clear liquid stained the stones around it.
She just stared, sudden comprehension shooting through her at much the same speed as a racing horse would run towards the finish line crossing the border to victory. In her case though, that border looked more like a dark abyss, and she was falling hard and fast.
"It's all gone," she said, more to herself than the man in front of her.
"Everything. Just gone."
"Oh for Gods sake," the man pulled her to the side, his face close as he whispered, "what games are you playing with me? Is this some type of cheap parlor trick to get out of our agreement? I am putting my ass on the line for you and now you've conveniently forgotten our deal? Devon was right about you, never trust a witch in rags he said, she owns nothing of worth once the bloom has gone."
"Sir, I -"
"Sir?" he chuckled.
"You can do better than that, witch."
The man squeezed her arm a little harder, as though sheer willpower and blunt force would help her remember that she was in it deep if she messed this up for him.
"You're hurting me," she said, a little too loud, as some of the people in the square stopped and turned to look at them.
"Be quiet," the man hissed.
"I have no idea who you are, where we are, or what we're doing here. What's more, you're hurting me. Please, let go of my arm, sir." She all but demanded. More people in the square turned toward them, the noises around them changing to sharp whispers.
The young man loosened his grip, his voice dangerously low.
"Will you keep it down? I'm trying to help you, not hurt you."
"Is this man bothering you, m'lady?" A stranger walked toward them, clear blue eyes searching hers. Relief flooded through her, at least there was one person in this square who didn't just stop and stare like a sheep. She opened her mouth to speak but the young man beat her to it.
"No, I am not bothering anyone, we're merely settling an unfortunate misunderstanding. Aren't we, m'lady?"
"I wasn't asking you," blue eyes replied, one hand on his bow, the other reaching for his quiver.
"Let go of my arm," she said once more, her eyes narrowing to slits.
"You heard the lady," blue eyes said, his stance unwavering.
"Fine," the young man reluctantly let go of her arm. "Play the victim, you little witch, our deal is off."
The young man stepped back, bowed to her and blue eyes with a mocking type of insincerity and then stalked off, disappearing inside a tavern on the other side of the square.
"I expect he won't be bothering you any time soon," blue eyes spoke, drawing her attention back to the situation at hand. She stared at the tavern for a second, disbelief raging through her mind like a storm. There was something important about that young man. He had answers to questions she once knew herself. Maybe she should go after him, pounce on him to tell her the truth. Had he done this to her? But what had he done, or, for that matter, what had they been doing? Did she really make a deal with him? So many gaps, in her mind, filled with questions that could neither be answered nor spoken.
"Thank you," she turned her attention towards blue eyes.
Later. She would deal with the young man later.
"I'm not sure what would have happened if you hadn't intervened," she meant it.
"Just doing what any self respecting citizens would have done," he smiled, and tucked his bow back behind him.
"Robin," he said, extending his hand to her. "Robin Hood of Locksley"
she stared at his hand, thick smooth calluses staring back at her. She wanted to shake it, return the favor and be on her way. But a tremor held her back, a gnawing confusion filled with ragged and frustration.
She couldn't recall her own name.
Let me know if you liked this! I have so many exciting ideas for this fic. Hopefully, you'll stick around! More to come soon.