So for reasons beyond me, I woke up this morning and decided that despite not writing for months, I wanted to participate in OQ week. So I'm sorry for any mistakes or general weirdness. I kind of just threw this together (which is probably a disclaimer for all of the days really).
Robin had never liked balls. Being of noble birth, he'd attended quite a few. He'd attended quite a few more as a thief, especially masked ones. After all it was easier to avoid notice when you could hide your face. So he'd already had a mask on hand when the prince and princess had announced a masquerade ball to celebrate their pregnancy. He was very fond of the two royals, and had offered his heartfelt congratulations and any assistance they might need. He is more than content to simply watch, but it appears that someone has other plans.
"Good evening thief," the queen greets, sauntering over to his side.
"Your majesty, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
He doesn't bother to fake sincerity. He enjoys their verbal sparring, often far more than he cares to admit. That doesn't mean he's always in the mood to be insulted. And tonight he is not.
"Hostile aren't you?" she answers with amusement, "Feeling out of place with nothing to steal?"
Regina is patronizing as ever.
He turns to look at her, and she is stunning. Her hair is pinned up in some elaborate twist, and she wears a black mask with hints of sparkling red and an excess of feathers to one size. Her dress is equal parts red and black beading, with a predictably scandalous neckline.
"Your concern is touching."
She takes his sarcasm in stride, just a hint of a smirk.
"Dance with me?"
She holds out her hand but he is too stunned to take it.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Come on Robin, dance with me. I'll even let you lead."
She winks at him, and he doesn't know what to do but agree.
He is taken by surprise when she easily relaxes into him, less poised and rigid than he's ever seen her.
"You're a much better dancer than I'd expected."
She wasn't exactly a woman known for giving genuine compliments. It was still insulting, but coming from Regina that was to be expected.
"I wasn't always a thief milady. My birth was nobler than you may have assumed. Now if you expected so little, why did you really ask me to dance?"
"Well no one was going to ask me, and your arms looked like a very appealing place to spend my night."
There is no derision in her tone for the first time since she'd told him about her son. And equally as important, he wonders if she's flirting.
"Are you drunk Regina?"
Robin isn't sure he meant to ask so bluntly and without her proper title no less, but thankfully she only chuckles.
"Why would you think that?"
She doesn't seem offended at the suggestion, nor does she deny it.
"You seem… different." happy "You've never been one to seek out my company at the very least."
He offers a small smile, which she unexpectedly returns. Normally he'd get a scowl. Of course his smile was typically more of a smirk and his intention more to get a rise out of her. He thought he'd finally figured out this maddening woman and she challenges it all by asking him to dance.
Her voice is barely above a whisper, ensuring that no one else but him could hear.
"It's a potion. I found it in a book of the Dark One's. It makes everything feel… happy and good, like... it feels like freedom."
Well she certainly isn't as articulate as usual, and her eyes are slightly glassy, but she is smiling and biting her lip and he's never seen her so unburdened. She's truly beautiful when she isn't scowling at him.
"Sounds lovely."
Before she can reply he spins her, which to his complete shock has her giggling. And for the first time, he feels something new for this woman. He is used to feeling compassion for her plight, irritation at her rudeness, and an attraction he's never denied. But this, her bit of laughter, the contented mhm she lets out when his hand returns to her waist, makes his heart skip a beat. Ironically he thinks this is the first time he has seen her truly unmasked and they are attending a masquerade ball.
Before he can think too much, her lips are moving again. He wonders why he hasn't spent hours admiring those lips, especially when they are painted so deliciously red.
"It is. Once Jefferson - you would probably like Jefferson, he's an arrogant thief too – asked for some of it as payment from Rumple. We split the vial and that was some of the best sex I've ever had."
Her hand flies to her mouth as she stifles a laugh and what he is sure was did I really just tell you that. He continues to lead their dance as he feels his cheeks redden slightly, imagining exactly what she must have looked like consumed with that much pleasure. Which is not what he should be thinking about, not when she is close enough to kiss. Especially not when he's been having deep thoughts about those lips.
"But it has quite the nasty aftereffects. The next few days will be utter hell. Fitting isn't it?"
She cocks her head to the side, says it like it's a curious occurrence, not something she'll be experiencing in a few hours' time
"I don't know what you mean milady."
That's a half-truth, he doesn't know but he suspects and he hopes to be wrong.
"What the Evil Queen deserves for this kind of happiness? What a mother deserves for not grieving her son for a night? Take your pick thief."
At this point she is completely following his lead, for once not resisting her lack of control. He wants to tell her she deserves to be happy. But his last attempt to convince her of that is not an experience he wants to repeat. He has a different tactic in mind.
"Well if you only have one happy night, I can think of far better ways to spent it," he answers, his raised eyebrow covered by his mask, but the mischievous glint in his eyes visible.
"Well aren't you bold?"
When she licks her lips (damn her lips) he is tempted to abandon his initial plan, but his honor wins out.
"Milady I would never make such a brazen proposition," he replies, mockingly aghast, "I was going to propose we wreak a little havoc on this ball and the rest of your lovely castle."
The smile on her face knocks the breath out of him. He would do anything to keep seeing it all night. Out of the corner of his eye he spots a woman with a rose in her hair.
"Follow my lead," he whispers in her ear, moving his head to the right.
They waltz in that direction and Robin easily plucks the flower from her hair without alerting her or her partner. Regina grins as they move a safe distance away.
"A beautiful rose for a beautiful woman," he says, presenting the flower to her with an exaggerated bow.
She laughs louder this time and as she slides the flower into her elaborate hairstyle, he notices that her cheeks are beginning to match the red on her mask.
"Got anymore tricks up your sleeve?"
It's a challenge, and he has no intentions of disappointing her.
"Take of your shoes, they're too loud. You may startle people into bringing up their guard. And allow me another dance," he answers, extending his hand.
Without her heels she is shorter than he'd realized. He finds that fact quite charming.
She takes his hand and he leads her back to the dance floor. He easily spots a mark, a man whose silver pocket watch is practically begging to be stolen. He bumps hard into the man, putting a hand on his arm, appearing to steady himself, and muttering.
"Apologies sir, sup-suppose I shoulda left the whiskey for after dancing."
The man looks at him, disgusted, but takes no notice of the fact that his pocket is suddenly lighter. There's a glint in Regina's eye when she sees what is in Robin's hand.
"I want to try."
It takes Regina a few attempts to get anything at all, but by the time they'd traversed the dance floor, they'd netted quite a few bracelets and pocket watches, along with three flasks. Robin is more than happy to consume the contents.
They linger at the table filled with food, both to indulge in the treats and to examine their haul. He insists they leave it there to be reclaimed by the owners and Regina pouts before agreeing.
He finds himself lost in her eyes, for the first time free of sadness and pain. He thinks they may be the most beautiful eyes he's ever seen, and is so distracted that he nearly misses the first man they'd stolen from reaching into his pocket and finding nothing.
"We need to run. Now."
She nods, gracelessly shoving another small cake in her mouth before taking off. The man starts to cross the dance floor and Robin bolts after her.
They hear the man running behind them, and Robin makes his best attempt at following Regina's sudden turns into corridors he never would have noticed. They find themselves at the library, fairly sure they've escaped their pursuer.
Regina looks up at the stacks in front of her and rolls her eyes.
"My husband had such idiotic taste in reading material. As if he wasn't too busy basking in praises to read."
He imagines she would sound bitter if she was so euphoric.
It gives Robin an idea and he picks up a book he despises, a fancy justification for keeping the poor in poverty. He holds it out to her, and her face is scrunched in confusion but she takes it.
"Destroy it. Rip the pages, kick it, set it on fire. Whatever you desire milady."
He can tell right away that she loves the idea, and she smiles in a way he knows will haunt his dreams. Attacking the book with vigor, she leaves it in tatters.
"Your turn."
And so he obliges, finding other books whose spines have never been cracked for them to destroy. Robin is sure whoever finds this mess will not be pleased with either of them. He can't be bothered to care, not when they are sitting shoulder to shoulder against the bookcase. Especially not when Regina is unable to tear the pages of one book so she bites at them. He can't help but laugh at her so she shoves the book into his hands, tells him to give it a try before he gets smug. It takes some effort, but he accomplishes what she could not and smirks.
"I do believe now I am allowed to be smug. It's not my fault your hands are so tiny."
In response she throws balled up pieces of paper at him. Somehow he finds her even more endearing because of it.
When they finally stand up and survey the damage they've wrought, it sends them into a fit of giggles. She has the potion as an explanation, but he can only come to the conclusion that it is her who makes him so giddy.
"I know what we should do now."
He turns to her and she is most certainly not laughing now, and neither is he when she grabs his shirt and pulls him into a kiss. He's sure no potion in the world could replicate this feeling.
He claws at her hair, trying desperately to let it free so he can finally run his fingers through it. The task is not an easy one, but every scratch to her scalp and pull of the strands has her moaning into his mouth and digging her nails into whatever skin she can find. He knows her potion is making her react so strongly, but Robin takes it as a boost to his ego. He moves his lips to her jaw and finds the tie of her mask. That has her pushing him back.
"Leave the masks."
They are both still breathless, so it takes him a moment to notice that she's looking slightly more like the woman he's used to. He surmises that the potion must be wearing off, if only slightly. Enough to give her some kind of doubt though.
"Is it that you don't want to see me or you don't want me to see you?"
Regina doesn't answer. She tries to pull him back to her, offers breathy pleas of I need you and I know you want me, but they do nothing to assuage his concerns. He isn't quite sure this is what she wants, and he doesn't want to leave her with regrets.
"Your potion is wearing off. I'm sure you'll want to be in your chambers when it fades away."
They walk back in silence and Robin absentmindedly pushes up his sleeves. When they reach the door, he waits outside until she invites him in. By then she is in bed, free of her makeup and elaborate dress, and her physical mask is gone. Her emotional one is falling back in place, but he focuses on her vanity, where the rose he gave her sits.
"Thank you for the pleasure of your company tonight Regina."
She looks at him with disbelief, but can't seem to find whatever mocking or scorn she is expecting.
"I can stay until morning if you'd like. I don't imagine this process will be all too pleasant, especially alone."
She looks as though she's ready to nod, but her gaze becomes fixed on his forearm.
"Get out," he is confused, no idea how his tattoo could cause such a shift in her demeanor, "That is not an order thief. I want you out of my sight."
When he finds himself back in the hallway, Robin swears he can hear Regina sobbing.