A/N: So the basic idea for this is that no, Regina didn't go in to meet the man with the lion tattoo, but she will meet him before she casts the curse, as the Evil Queen. I wanted to try something hopefully a little new, I know I'm rping this but I wanted to try fic-ing it. This will be a slow building story, they won't fall in love immediately and no, Regina won't notice the tattoo for quite some time. It will flick between The Enchanted Forest, Storybrooke and Neverland. I just wanted to let you all know that so you can decide whether it's worth reading or not. No big deal if it isn't, but I figured I'd save you wasting time. The title of the story is the title of Hoobastank's 'The Reason', which gives me Outlaw Queen feels every damn time I listen to it. I will be posting updates on my Tumblr account: regalcharming, and I will try and update every three days, if not then, at least every week. Feel free to message me there if it's been longer.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything nor anyone in this story unless written in an A/N.
It was an unnerving silence that had settled upon The Enchanted Forest. A silence they were all quite used too, and a silence that quite scared them. The Evil Queen was near, riding with her guards along the trail built just for her. Villagers cowered in fear, running for the safety they thought their homes would provide. As if wood would stop the Queen from what she sought.
Perched on her steed, the Queen tilted her head and watched as man, woman and child bowed before her, their eyes lowered for fear they would meet her own. Emotionless, she rode forward, digging her heels in to Rocinante's side and urging him to canter, her guards picking up pace in an attempt at keeping by her side. None of them would. She didn't need to see the children's faces as she rode past, she didn't need to see the terror filling their eyes. They were afraid of her, but only one needed to be terrified.
Forest trees blended together in colour as she rode, faster and faster, her company falling behind. The Queen didn't care. She had her magic, she could take care of herself. Her grip tightened on the reigns in her hands, pulling gently but firmly, Rocinante slowing to a slow trot as she caught her breath. She may not have been the one running, but she certainly felt like it. Rubbing circles along her horse's neck, she allowed a moment - just a moment - for the Queen to disappear. Her eyes closed as a bird sang, wind blew against her face in a gently whisper, and the sound of a nearby creek met her ears. The Queen was gone, and the silence broke. She breathed heavily, the sounds of cantering hooves becoming louder and louder, until the first black armoured guard turned the corner, soil flying from his horse's feet. Straightening her back, the Queen returned and the noise disappeared, as if sensing the darkness plaguing her had once again taken home in her heart. A momentary slip. One the Queen would not allow again.
She tilted her head in acknowledgement, ignoring Berkley's words. 'We cannot protect you my Queen, if you continue to run'. She didn't need their protection, and running was all she knew now. Inclining her head in understanding, she flicked her reigns and Rocinante walked forward, both she and her guards missing the figure slipping between the shadows of one tree to another.
XX
He had studied her. For weeks now, he had watched her comings and goings, just to learn what her routine was. And he had discovered - The Queen didn't have a routine. No. She did what she liked, when she liked, where she liked, how she liked. There was no pre-planning this. Raiding the Queen's Company would be the ultimate test for he and his men. Surely she would have something on her person, something that could help the people she had neglected in her rulership. Nodding his head to Little John, the Thief slipped through the forest, trailing behind the Queen and her guards. He had seen her moment, a single slip in the Queen's mask and when it had been the most opportune moment, he had hesitated. A hesitation he would not let occur again.
He watched silently, hood lifted over his head, shadowing his eyes from any possible recognition. The Queen may not know who he was, but her soldiers may. Raising his bow in his hand, he knocked an arrow against the string and crouched, the tip aimed at a tree the Queen would pass by. For today, he was the distraction, his men were the thieves. Ordinarily, it would be the opposite. But the Queen was not one to be trifled with, and if anyone were to be caught, the Thief would prefer it be him. Drawing the arrow back, he narrowed one eye and focused all his attention on the tree, waiting. If he hit the Queen, no doubt the Forest would rejoice. But he was no murderer. That was her, not him.
He caught the barest glimpse of a horses head when he released the arrow, the deadly weapon slicing the air as it thudded in to the tree, narrowly missing the Queen's own head. She reared back, her horse neighing loudly, startled. Her chest heaved with minor shock, breathing laboured as she turned her head sharply, seeking out her assailant. Men ran forward, horses galloping passed her as they chased the figure, his identity protected by a hood. As half her guard left in chase, the other half called out in warning, common men advancing on them. In her haste, the Queen sat frozen, her hand lifted to her cheek where she could still feel the air whip across it, the arrow only barely managing to miss her skin. Her dark eyes lifted, flicking between the men now being pushed back by her guards, and the distant image of a man running from horses carrying black amour.
Decisions.
They were always rather easy for her.
Whipping her reigns, Rocinante shot forward in to a canter, running forward and leaping over a fallen tree as she rode to catch up with her pursuing soldiers. She saw one jump from his horse, tackling the man to the ground and pressing the figures wrists in to his own back. Another slid from his steed, lifting the bow and snapping it before his very eyes while a third moved to raise his sword. No. That simply wouldn't do.
Lifting her hand as she turned Rocinante to the side, the horse stumbling slightly, she flicked her wrist and the sword disappeared in a cloud of purply smoke. The Queen's chin lifted slightly, her dark eyes falling on the man lying on the ground, a guard's knee pressing in to his back. The Thief stared back, meeting her eyes like none had dared to before. Narrowing her own, she slid from Rocinante's back, one leg rising over the horses rump as she fell to the ground, her coat tails knocking against the back of her thighs. Striding forward, she bent at the waist and gripped the man's chin between her thumb and forefinger. A small, predatory smirk graced her lips as her eyes flicked over his face, taking in the clear defiance glinting in his eyes. "No." She drawled, her voice a bare husk as her guards straightened, preparing for an order they knew would be coming. "Shackle him. He's to come with us."
Dropping the man's chin rather roughly, the Queen turned on her heel and hauled herself back up on to her steed, Rocinante's shifting forward slightly as Berkley pulled the man to his feet, holding his arms against his back and digging his own palms into the base of his spine forcefully. Raising her eyebrow, the Queen released a breathy laugh, pulling tightly on her reigns as heavy shackles locked his arms behind him. Turning, the Queen and her horse walked away purposely as the man was thrown over a horse, a guard climbing up behind him. "Be glad we don't drag you behind us." He growled in to the Thief's ear, as their horse in turn moved to follow the Queen. "Robin Hood."
A/N: Probably a rather short chapter, but I needed to get this going and this was the best possible way. Consider it a prelude of sorts. R&R if you want to, I'm not going to press for reviews.