Our Soulmate Is the One Who Makes Life Come To Life

CHAPTER ONE: Utmost evil and terror.

The golden smoothness of the encrusted ring was the only image in the golden haired, outlaws mind. Once a thief, always a thief, and this time was no different. Only /this/ time he was taking back what was his. For the one innocent soul in his life, his three year old toddler. Three years. Engraved in his mind as thick as the English language, as thick as his deep, gallant, British accent. Time was supposed to heal any wound and to some extent it had. He no longer mourned for his Marian. The only guilt he harboured was for his young boy who never had the chance to meet his mother. Family was the reason for this theft.

Were the Queen's guards so brainless or simply scared stiff? In less than six arrows he had successfully taken out a majority of the black knights 'protecting' the castle. An honourable man he was, a thief yes, a murderer, no. He was aiming only for arms and legs to ensure death wasn't the end of the boneless guards. Sprinting through every extravagant corridor, room, hall, until he reached who he was looking for. The Evil Queen.

An abrupt swing of her head, and the woman, clad in only her dark crimson silk nightgown rose from her throne. Her chair at her dressing table. In Robin's mind, it may as well have been a throne. The luxury of the chair, of /her/ made his mouth dry. The things he could buy with that money. The people he could help. He had heard many tales about the 'great and terrible evil queen', this quest would certainly leave him with his own opinion. Judgement wasn't something in his vocabulary.

"Who the /hell/ are you?"

The Queen snarled, luscious brunette locks bouncing all the way down to her ribs, cascading over her curves, leaving much to the imagination. Her voice was low, deep, miserable. The thief looked at her, truly looked at her before freeing a cough from his throat and bowing clumsily. Royalty wasn't something he was familiar with, nor were formal manners.

"Robin of Locksley, your majesty."

He nobly introduced himself, forcing a polite smile. If anyone else had spoken to him with such rude and emptiness, politeness certainly wouldn't have emitted from his mouth.

Dark, cruel orbs drew him in, breathed him in.

"The thief."

Regina blankly pointed out.

No emotion.

No care.

The only care she had was that he had broken into /her/ castle and was still alive. No one broke into her castle, into her /bedchambers/ and lived to tell the tale.

"And just /how/ did you manage to get past my guards, imposter?"

She asked in curiosity, slowly and alluringly stepping forwards, eyes flickering up and down to take him in. If he had managed to kill her guards, she could do with someone with his courage around the castle. A spy of some sort would be most useful. Her mortal enemy was busy dallying around with dwarves, she could see it in her mind, the not so 'dirty' hooded man bringing her that bandit. Watching him slowly lower the brat of her stepdaughter into a barrel of boiling wine, causing more pain, more suffering than Snow White could have ever imagined. His annoyingly loud voice pulled her away from her tormented thoughts.

"Forgive me but your black knights weren't granted with the one thing we need most in this life. A brain."

The archer mockingly announced. All she could do was shrug. Point taken.

"You have something that belongs to me. I am merely here to retrieve what is rightfully mine."

Robin politely insisted. From first impressions, he was certain she would put up a fight. Thieving with the targeted person knowing was never easy.

"What might that be?"

The woman mockingly asked, batting her eyes and pouting her plum stained lips, yet again stepping closer as she acted as though she could help this scruffy outlaw. When she couldn't care less. She cared for nothing but that 'princesses' death. The day Snow White was dead was the day she showed the people of her Kingdom her 'kindness'. Her nose crinkled in disgust the closer to the peasant she became. The stench of woods, of /forest/ inflaming her nostrils.

"A ring, your majesty. A golden ring. It is quite simple, nothing fancy. It has no worth."

So he was the man.

The heartless criminal whom had broken into her castle on a separate occasion and stolen nothing but /her/ ring.

The ring her dead true love had presented to her after asking her to marry him. The only item she had left of his memory.

"You."

Regina breathed out in utter hatred. All mockery vanished, left only with utmost evil and terror.

"It was /you/ who took it."

Enough with playing games to ease her haunted soul. A curled hand lifted, her dark magic choking the archers throat to inflict only a tenth of the pain she had been left to endure from losing the only piece she had left of her first love. Robin struggled, grasping his throat in agony. He could feel the oxygen slowly leave his body, mind fogging, and any thoughts about the ring on hold. For now he was concentrating on survival. The instinct he was well trained in, apart from when his fight was with dark magic.