"We need to stop," Leroy growls, hiking his satchel farther up his back. "It feels like we've been walking for days."
"And here I thought your name was Grumpy, not Whiny," Regina snaps over her shoulder. "We can rest when we get to the Dark Castle."
"Regina," Mary Margaret admonishes gently, frowning. "Leroy is right. We could all use the rest. Who knows, maybe a night's rest would make you strong enough to…poof us there in the morning."
Regina whirls around and opens her mouth, snark poised on her tongue, but as she lays eyes on the group, the words die in her throat. They all do look exhausted. Belle leans against Neal's shoulder, Hook appears indifferent but nonetheless drained, and one of the dwarves is actually even asleep standing up. (Though she's pretty sure that's actually the one they used to call Sleepy.)
But trekking forward, walking on—that's the only thing keeping her emotions at bay, holding her together, swallowing her thoughts of losing Henry, losing Storybrooke, all her hard work. She'd always known her happy ending would be bittersweet, but she'd never been prepared for how much.
She's not ready to face it, and the grumbling of others has never forced her hand before. She can keep pushing. She can keep walking. Just a little farther, just a little—but then her eyes flick to Mary Margaret, who watches her with such weary, knowing eyes, and the thought falls.
"The castle isn't much farther ahead," Belle pipes up, in a kind tone. "We could make it by dawn."
"No," Regina exhales, hands rising to rub at her temples. "No, this is a good a place as any to rest. This is the last empty clearing for miles, and we'll need one to survive any possible ogres."
"What about other…things?" Neal asks, scratching at the back of his neck.
Regina purses her lips disdainfully, but before she can bite out her planned insult, David speaks up, patting his sword affectionately. "There's nothing in these woods we can't handle," he says, flicking his gaze between his wife and the pirate.
Sighing, Regina throws her hands into the air in exasperation, stalking off to make camp.
They awake to the sound of screaming.
Regina rises groggily, eyes half open until another round of yelling and inhuman screeching fills her ears.
"Get up, Regina!" Hook shouts, quickly followed by the unmistakable sound of an unsheathed blade. "Get up!"
The high-pitched shriek sounds again, this time accompanied by the heavy beating of massive wings. The dawn sky is hazy and gray, but illuminates the source of the cries: it at first appears to be a great brown bird, but as it barrels closer to them on the ground, Regina gets a better look at it, eyes widening as she recognizes it.
"A griffin!" David yells, scrambling to his feet. The beast roars once more, circling the group.
The dwarves immediately take off running to the woods, save for Leroy. "No!" Mary Margaret bellows after them. "Don't scatter!"
The griffin's head snaps in the direction of the dwarves, shrieking and diving downwards. It lands directly in front them, pawing aggressively into the dirt, and gives a threatening growl.
If beasts could smirk, Regina thinks. She clenches and unclenches her fists, trying to get a jumpstart on a fireball. Her magic is still weak from counteracting Pan's curse, but she should be able to manage a little fire. After a few testing snaps of her fingers, a spark bursts alive in her palm.
"Duck!" She shouts, unfurling it quickly, and pushing the blaze towards the griffin. The dwarves drop to the ground just in time, the griffin howling in pain as the flame hits its shoulder.
Belle, Neal, and the arrow-less Snow fall back as Regina, Hook, and David rush forward.
"Oy, hey Ugly!" Hook calls, raising his hooked arm high over his head. "You like your meat salted? Well come and get me! Nice and tasty sea-faring pirate!"
The creature whips around, following the noise. It's eyes land on Hook, pausing before another ear-splitting cry erupts from its beak. Hook breaks into a run, leading the griffin away from the others. David follows after, and Regina quickly figures out what they're trying to do: surround the beast and kill it while one of them distracts it.
She falters. Their plan is risky, but doable. And if it fails, either the flirt or the idiot dies, neither of which she'd really shed a tear over. But they're Henry's family, a small voice reminds her, pushing her forward. She groans. The things she does for love.
She pulls back her elbows and turns up her palms as they grow alight with flame. She thrusts them forward suddenly, sending the fire barreling towards the griffin with more force than before. It hisses and cries, lifting itself into the air as it writhes in pain. The flapping of its wings only fans the flames, but it beelines for her still, looking no less enraged.
It hits the ground forcefully, facing her head on, clearly prepared to take her down with it.
"You wanna dance?" she smirks, gathering her strength and focusing it all on her spell. Her fingers fly out, and the beast freezes, a ripple of magic passing over it before it disintegrates in a pile of purple dust.
She doesn't have time to gloat.
As soon as the griffin disappears, she quickly takes notice of the arrow rapidly whizzing towards her face. She waves her hand across the air and flinches, capturing it with a freezing spell it just seconds before it impales her through the eyes. Regina gasps, and the arrow falls to the ground, hitting the grass silently. She stares at it before whirling around, making sure there's not another.
She looks to Hook and David, but they're both turned to face the edge of the clearing. A quick glance back at Mary Margaret and the others tells her the same, so slowly she turns, following their gaze.
That's when she sees him.
A hooded man dressed in green is breaking across the grass in a full sprint, a quiver in his grip. Half a dozen or so others follow him, but none move as swiftly as the man in front. "Are you alright?" He bellows, striding towards her. "Milady, are you—"
He stops suddenly in front of her, panting wildly, and pulls the hood down over his shoulders. Wide hazel eyes, a coif of perfectly mussed blonde hair, and no light smattering of stubble, the man gapes at her for a few moments, catching his breath. "Alright," he breathes out finally, getting a hold of himself, "Are you alright?"
Regina's mouth falls open, surprise briefly flitting over her features before being replaced by a sneer. "I am now," she sniffs, sweeping her hands over her riding pants. (She remains endlessly grateful she decided to change out of the ballgown she'd arrived in). "No thanks to you."
The man frowns, his eyebrows knitting together. "That arrow was intended for the beast," he explains to Regina's now retreating form. "If you hadn't spelled it away, I assure you it would've hit target."
She whirls around, eyes enflamed. "Excuse me? This is my fault?"
"Not at all!" The man is quick to add, holding up his hands defensively. "But I had it under control."
"Clearly," Regina scoffs, rolling her eyes and neck, her hair flipping around her shoulders. "Which is why I'm the one who took care of it?"
"We've been tracking that griffin for days," he says after a moment, gawking at her in disbelief, his demeanor slowly wearing impatient. "I never miss a mark, milady. I was only trying to save you."
"The last time I checked, the cost of chivalry wasn't my own damn life," Regina hisses, stepping closer.
He lets out a sudden, hollow bark of laughter, and throws his hands into the air, swiveling left and right. He raises his voice, "Well the last I checked, at least the price of chivalry was not nearly as steep as the price of magic."
"I don't remember asking for a lecture," Regina snaps, "Especially not from a man priding himself on being an overgrown boy scout."
His forehead wrinkles in confusion, but as he opens his mouth with a retort, his eyes flick to the left, where the others have huddled, watching on. "Snow?" He whispers, squinting, before shouting, "Snow! Is that you?"
The dark-haired woman slowly steps forward, trying to make him out at the distance, before lighting up and running towards them. "Robin!" She cries, throwing her arms around him. "What are you doing here?"
The expression of the man—Robin—immediately twists from indignation to a happy grin. (And no, it doesn't bother Regina at all that once again Snow White is the one to put a smile one someone's face. And even if it did, it's not like she cares.) Robin releases her, beaming. "What am I doing here? What are you doing here! You haven't been seen since the Queen's curse!"
Not this again, Regina sighs to herself, shifting on her feet.
"Well…we're back," Mary Margaret says, her smile slowly falling.
By now, the others have wandered over as well. Recognition crosses Neal's face, and it lights up in a grin. "Hood! Hey man!" He calls, moving to embrace the archer.
"Baelfire," Robin greets. "Back so soon? Where's the Lady Emma?"
Regina glances at Hook, whose expression has immediately soured. Neal looks down, kicking his feet at the grass. "Not here. But she's safe."
Robin's eyebrows knit, but he nods understandingly. Regina, meanwhile, exhales through her nose loudly, drawing his attention back to her.
"Does everyone here know you except me?" She frowns, masking her curiosity with a sneer.
"I've no bloody clue who this," Hook chimes in brightly, but he goes ignored.
"I've been unlucky to avoid the pleasure," Robin says in a politely snide voice. He dips into a bow, never breaking eye contact. "Sir Robin of Loxley, milady."
Regina scoffs. "Someone went through the trouble of knighting you?"
"Ah, that, there!" Robin exclaims, jerking upright and pointing at her. "And they say flattery will get you nowhere."
Regina smirks thinly, hands on her hips.
"Regina," Mary Margaret chides. "This is an old friend of mine. He can help us."
"Regina?" Robin echoes, realization slowly dawning. "Regina…the Queen? The—"
"Evil Queen, yes," Regina bites out defensively. "So?"
But Robin only stares at her. She braces herself for the fear in his eyes, the cowering, or the hatred, but it never appears. His expression is closed off, but not coldly. If she were to squint, she might even call it understanding—but she's never considered herself naïve before.
"What?" She asks, in a voice that comes out far shakier than she'd hoped.
"Nothing," Robin says finally, scratching his forehead. He turns to Mary Margaret. "We're staying at the Dark Castle if you wish to join us."
"That's actually where we're headed," she replies, flicking her eyes between the two cautiously.
"Well, it's a fair walk back," Robin says after a moment, eyes on Regina, "you can fill me in on the details on the way."
"Looking forward to it," Regina replies coolly, wrinkling her nose, hoping he'll pick back up on the banter from before. That, she can handle. The fighting, the bickering, the snide, undercutting remarks—nothing she doesn't know, maybe even enjoy, if you really pressed her about it.
But he doesn't return her teasing. Instead, he just blinks, and turns on his heel.
It's his lingering looks, the slightly upturned mouth, the sympathetic eyes that she has no idea what to do with. No one has ever looked at her like that who wasn't Mary Margaret, and it makes her heart hammer all the more loudly.
It feels like swimming out to sea.
a/n: okay so this was just supposed to be a simple outlaw queen headcanon fic based off what i wrote here and grew into a beast of a story because in my head, robin hood was snow's bandit/archery teacher so they know each other and then he obv knows neal
but first i wrote a fight sequence so regina could be heroic but of course i also want to write hook-having-emma-feels-in-the-enchanted-forest and then somehow i got rumbelle feels and want to write belle sad in the dark castle and then going to oz
and then what am i doing with my life do i write all this or anyway
anyway probably/potentially to be continued