OQ Happy Ending Week - Day 7 - Cannon

She stumbled across it entirely by accident. It was after her coronation (my Gods he was so proud of her) and she had made her way to their tavern that night. Long after last call, slipping in with a could of purple smoke and sitting at the table they never got the chance to occupy together. The feather was with her, it's always with her he's noticed: tucked away in a briefcase, pinned to the inside of a blazer, or like tonight, simply cradled in her palm. She starts to talk to him. Tells him all about the day, the myriad of emotion she went through in the past 24 hours, how hard she laughed when Hope spit up all over Hook's fancy pirate clothes.

He'd listened to her quietly, content to let her tell her tale in peace until her laughter at their friend's misfortune brought his own chortling out. Regina nearly jumped out of her skin when the sound of his laughter filled the empty tavern. She was on her feat, fireball in hand searching every dark corner for a fight when he stepped out of the shadows, hands raised in surrender and apology. "I didn't mean to startle you, but you paint quite a picture in your retellings. Perhaps you should have been the author?"

"Who are you?" she waves her hand, flame giving light to the form approaching her.

"You know who I am, Regina."

"How are you here?"

He gestures to the feather on the tabletop; it casts a faint glow she hadn't noticed before. "A bit of magic," he tells her with a mischievous smile. "The same that brought me to you when you were feeling a bit hopeless in that cell."

"That was a dream." She knows it was more than that.

"You know it was more than that," he tells her as if reading her thoughts as he takes the seat across from where she was and offers her to do the same.

"You're here?" her voice breaks, daring to hope that this could be real, bracing for the heartache if it isn't.

"I am and I'm not. Not fully at least."

"Can you be?" There's that pesky hope again. As much as Regina has tried to tramp it down it keeps spring back to the surface. Could she have him again? It's bubbling up, about to burst out of her every poor when he says the one word that extinguishes it all.

"No." He hates to look at her with such disappointment in her eyes, but he had to tell her the truth, to tell her now because he doesn't want to drag anything out that will hurt her. "But I can be here, in this place, whenever you need me to be." He watches her watch him, they way she stares down, refusing to join him at the table; the way she took the smallest step back when he reached for her. Was this a mistake? Maybe he shouldn't have revealed himself at all.

"That hardly seems the way to spend your eternity." Something between a laugh and a sob comes from deep in her chest. She's shaking her head, blinking back tears. This is absurd. "So you just wait around until I'm having a bad day and need a drink?"

"A bad day or a good one," he smiles, gently. This is hard for her, he knows. It's been hard on him too. Seeing her all this time and being unable to hold her, to bring her any sort of peace. Robin reaches for her again, lets his arm occupy the place between them until her shaking fingers finally close around his own. "Today seemed to be quite a good one," he tugs her gently, smiles as she sits beside him. There's still space between them, enough so that their hands rest on the bench, but her touch settles the part of him that's always restless without her.

"It was," she says and feels instantly guilty for it, "I'm sorry, I don't know what to say."

"Tell me anything. I just want to be with you," his thumb brushes back and forth across her knuckles. He's missed this, missed simply being close to her. She's staring at their hands, waiting for him to vanish at any moment, knows that if she closes her eyes she'll wake up somewhere else. Alone. He understands her hesitance, knows the rocky relationship she has with hope.

"If you can be here, why here? Why me?" She finally meets his eyes. Robin's eyes; a thousand shades of blue that stare right into the heart of her. It's him. She doesn't understand it, but it's him. He's here.

"This is where we should have started," he tells her, fingers evermoving against hers. "It would seem the gods have found it a suitable place for us to wait until both of our journeys here have completed. And as for your second question, you already know the answer to that, Regina."

She does. May not believe it's true, but "You're waiting for me?"

"Rest assured, Milady, there is nowhere else I'd rather be. This," he reaches for the feather, twirls it in his fingers, "giving you this was incredibly selfish of me. I've missed you."

"And I you." She raises their hands, ducks under his arm and wraps it around her. He shifts so he's stradling the bench, giving her a quick tug back and she melts against his chest, forehead pressed to his neck. He kisses her hair, her nose, every part he can reach then just holds her.

"So how was your day?" he asks nonchalantly after long moments of comfortable silence pass between them. She laughs again, but it's lighter, freer. She's starting to believe that they can really have this time together until her journey is done.

"Well, today I was crowned queen of the world…" she snorts, actually snorts out laughter in his arms and Robin thinks that that sound has been worth waiting all this time to find her at this moment.

Their first night at the tavern was full of laughter, of light touches and gentle kisses. They weren't all like that. There was still more pain, more loss, more tears that must be cried. But there was always love. Night after night she'd come with tales of the day; the antics of their children, grandchildren, then great-grandchildren; he's gotten to experience it all through her.

Their last night at the tavern is full of hope, of giddy smiles and anticipation. She's ready now, her journey here complete. This time it's her who reaches for him, guiding him out of place he's occupied for decades and on to the adventure that awaits them.