Post 4x03 three-parter. Originally posted as part of my one-shots collection 'Castle's in Maine', but i've had a few guests review asking to post it separately, so here it is :)

The cold bites at Regina's skin as she hurries through the forest. Not that she needs to rush, this isn't particularly a matter of life and death, but she's strangely excited. For the first time in weeks, she can feel anxious butterflies flitting in her stomach, and a sense of pride settling on her heart. She's cracked it, she thinks ... finally.

Fallen leaves crunch under her boots, crack from their frozen state with each step, and as she takes in the light dusting of ice and snow that scatters the woods, she realises it's probably the first time she's let herself truly take in just what this Snow Queen is capable of.

It's dark; she's unsure of the time, it doesn't occur to her that he may be otherwise engaged, or sleeping. She'll just have to wake him up, then, because she can't not tell him now she's finally figured it out. Well ... most of it. There's still a few ingredients she'll need to gather, not to mention the small, tiny, insignificant detail that this particular spell requires blood ... but she'll cross that bridge when she comes to it. Right now, she needs to find him, needs to tell him the good news.

Tonight, he will be getting his wife back.

It's not lost on Regina that when she lifts the curse on Marian, she'll lose what little contact she's had with her soulmate over the past few weeks, lose the comfort she finds in him being near, the unwavering encouragement and belief he has in her. She's been banging her head against a metaphorical wall since the moment she pulled out this woman's heart, and now she's finally stumbled (albeit, completely accidentally), on this possible cure, there's no way in hell she won't tell him. There's a tiny voice in her mind that's not only excited to tell him for him and Roland, but also for herself too. He's been by her side this whole time, never once questioning her ability to help, even when she doubted herself sometimes (all the time), and now she's found it, buried deep in the pages of an ancient grimoire that belonged to her mother, she's actually pretty damn proud of herself.

That is the reason she can't wait to tell him.

When she reaches his camp, it's deserted, bar one very tired looking Friar hunched over a fire, warming his hands on the slowly dying embers. He looks surprised on her approach, but doesn't get up as she walks towards him. (She knows which tent is Robin's, doesn't need to talk to this man per say, but she's no longer quite as impolite as she used to be ... and this *is* his territory, so she won't barge in without so much as a word).

"Is Robin here? I need to talk to him," she says, loud enough for him to hear, but not loud enough to wake the rest of the Merry Men unnecessarily.

Tuck clears him throat, then nods to Robin's tent. "He turned in a while ago, I doubt he's asleep though."

She looks towards the tent, then back over at the Friar, whom gives her a small smile, which she returns before gripping the book closer to her chest and moving over to the deep green tent that currently houses her boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend.

"Robin?" She shouts in a whisper, then slowly inches the opening back.

Robin is lying atop his sleeping bag, watching Roland, who lies with his eyes firmly shut and his mind lost to the dreamworld, curled up in the little ball under several blankets. He motions for her to enter when their eyes meet.

"Everything okay?" He whispers.

Regina crouches down next to him, feels her heart swell when his tired eyes drink her in, and lets the grimoire fall onto her lap. "I found it, Robin," she says with a smile. "I found a cure."

The he sits up, not taking full care not to disturb the child that lies next to him. Roland stirs, and both his father and Regina stop breathing for a second, tear their eyes from each other to stare at him, make sure they haven't woken him. He settles not a moment later. Robin's eyes are full of shock when he meets her gaze again, and his jaw slacks just a little before looking at the book in her cold hands.

"That looks like dark magic, Regina," he says firmly, pointing to the grimoire.

She rolls her eyes. "This is a grimoire, it was my mothers. It's full of dark magic ... but Marian's under a curse, and while this books is full of them, it also has a few handy tips on how to undo them. Should the caster ever feel the need."

"You ... you think you can undo it?"

She nods, breathes out a yeah, then says, "I just need a few more ingredients, things I can find in the forest and Gold's shop, and ..."

She stops talking before she gets too excited, before he gets too excited, and drops her gaze from his.

"And?" He urges.

She sighs, then looks back up in the hope that he can see how genuine this all is for her, that she wouldn't even be suggesting it if it were remotely dangerous, hopes that he still trusts her completely as he had promised two weeks prior. "What I'm about to say is absolutely going to alarm you, but I need you to hear me out before you respond, okay?"

He nods.

"Promise?"

He nods again.

Regina takes a deep breath. "I need Roland's blood."

There it is; the alarm, the horror, the look of 'absolutely no way in hell', and for a split second, there's coldness in his eyes throws her, and while he keeps his promise, doesn't utter a sound, she still scrambles to back peddle her words in order for him to understand. "Only a drop, a pin-pricks worth at most. I wouldn't have even bothered telling you what i'd found if it meant Roland coming into harm's way."

Robin's shoulders sag, and he looks between his little boy and herself, clearly torn over what to do. She reaches forward, rests what she hopes is a comforting hand on on his forearm, and softly says, "we don't have to do this if you don't want to. But this is the only way for us to the break the curse."

"Why his blood? Can't you have mine instead?"

She shakes her head sadly, "it will only work with a blood relative."

There is a an internal war going on in his head, Regina can practically hear it. For a moment, she stays quiet, lets him mull over what this means, for him, for them, for Roland, then her heart fills with a strange sense of victory when he says, "only a pin-prick?" His words are cautious, edge slightly on that of a warning, but she thinks maybe she's projecting on Robin how she thinks others would react. He knows her better than that.

"I swear," she promises firmly.

His nod comes a second later. "Okay. What else do you need?"

Ten minutes later, they are walking alone, side by side through the frosty trees under a starry sky, searching in vein for a specific plant that, without which, this spell she's found will not work.

Robin had eased Roland into his arms when they agreed to leave now, wake Marian tonight and not leave her iced over a second longer than she has to be, and asked Tuck to watch over him. The Friar had agreed without question, and bid them goodnight, taking Roland to his own tent.

There had been a moment that had surprised her; when Robin looked somewhat taken aback when she had insisted they do this tonight, and she had to work pretty hard to stamp out the little voice in her mind that whooped in joy over the possible, he doesn't want to wake her! It had died a moment later though, and she'd mentally kicked herself for getting even a glimmer of hope from his tone.

Still, he's quiet now, as they trek through the outdoors, leaving the air around them thick with unsaid words and feelings, and suddenly, as excited as she was to have finally found this pesky cure, Regina now feels a heaviness settling on her chest with the notion that in a few short hours, he won't belong to just her anymore.

He doesn't belong to you now, you ridiculous woman.

But maybe it won't be like before. Maybe he won't be able to stay away like he thinks he will. Sure, they've spent the past fortnight desperately trying to save his wife, but even so, they've been together, more often than not just the two of them, and while it hasn't been what she wants, hasn't been soft kisses and loving caresses, it's still just been them.

She hasn't even lost him again yet, but there's now a grief that's punching a hole in her heart as they walk. His hand is a hairs breadth away from hers, and it's like fate is cruelly laughing in her face once again, because she's pretty sure if their chemistry could be seen, they'd be lighting up like christmas trees right now and they're not even touching.

The hours ware on and the moon moves across the sky. It's full tonight, makes the woods easier to move through, the trees cast shadows on the ground that threaten to trick her mind into thinking they're something they're not. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she hopes Ruby still has that cloak of hers. Regina isn't scared of the dark, never has been, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't feel safer with Robin next to her. Thus far, they've been unsuccessful in their attempt to find this plant. Just keep looking, she's saying, over and over, it's red, like poppies but smaller ... the leaves are bigger than the flower.

She's just on the verge of giving up, of telling him they'll try again when the sun comes up, when his voice makes her jump in the silence of the edge of the woods. "There!"

He's pointing, and she follows his arm to the lake, then further around the park they've wandered to; she can't see anything. "Where?!" She says, a scowl on her face as her eyes squint.

Robin moves to stand right next to her, their bodies graze together with the pressure of a ghosts; it stills makes her shudder. Thank god it's cold or he'd know what kind of affect he has on her.

Don't kid yourself, Regina, he definitely knows what kind of affect he has on you.

"Right there, on the edge of the lake."

She spots it then, a small cluster of them that momentarily numbs the grief of losing him and revives this strange sense of pride she's feeling.

The lake has completely frozen over, so she takes a step forward. His arm halts her instantly. "What do you think you're doing?"

She frowns, the gestures to the plant. "Going to get it."

"By walking straight across a lake," he says, voice edging on disbelief.

"By walking straight across a frozen lake. It'll be quicker, stop panicking."

"Why can't we just go around?"

She gapes at him. "For the reason I just said ... why are you arguing with me?"

His eyes roll, and a heavy sigh escapes his mouth. "I'm not ... can't you just 'poof' us there?"

Regina avoids his eyes, bites the inside of her cheek then sighs. "No. I've been too tired the past few days to do magic."

She looks back up, into his eyes when his hand comes to rest on her shoulder. His expression holds nothing but concern, and her earlier irritation is forgotten. "You never told me that."

"Because I knew you'd tell me to stop over-exerting myself. It's just taking a lot out of me ... trying to break this curse every day." He doesn't respond for a second, just looks at her, into her, with a face she recognises as his I love you face. It's gone a second later, when she presses her foot down onto the solidified water at their feet.

"I think this could be dangerous." He finally says.

It's her turn to roll her eyes now, "it's fine."

A satisfied smile works its way across her face when they step on the ice. It doesn't crack, doesn't so much as make a noise. If they're careful with their steps, they'll have the plant in no time, and once again, the pride she has in herself magnifies.

Maybe this is why people act like heroes, she thinks. It's nothing to do with being selfless, and everything to do with feeling good about yourself. She justifies her latest 'heroic' actions by telling herself that actually, this clearly means heroes are just as self serving as villains. With just a slightly different end goal.

She's lost in thought, half way across the lake when his arm grips hers once more, pulls her to an instant stop.

"What are you-"

"Shh!" He urges, then looks back, horror falling on his face. Regina follows his gaze, but her ears register whats about to happen before her eyes do.

The ice is cracking. It's loud, and ominous, seems to happen in slow motion but neither of them move an inch, and when it finally reaches where they're standing, Regina grips Robin's hand so tightly they might well glue together.

"What do we do?" She asks, looking into his eyes.

He stays silent, looks right back at her with a foreboding expression on his face. "Robin," she repeats, "what do we do?!"

He opens his mouth to answer, and then the solid ice she's standing on disappears beneath her feet.