Here with Day Two (Tuesday) of OQPromptParty!
Prompt 111. Gender Swap version of their story. Robin is the struggling to reform Evil King. Regina is the leader of the Merry Men.
Prompt 147. Robin is known as the Vicious King whose first love Marian was murdered because his step son David couldn't keep a secret. Tinkerbell leads Robin to his soulmate, a beautiful brown eyed peasant woman with a feather tattoo.
This part one in a short series to be updated again this week!
Thanks so much, please enjoy!
The noise is deafening, a piercing screech that can be heard from miles away. It curdles Robin's blood and makes the hairs on his neck stand up straight. Adrenaline courses through him as he scans the sky. For surely, such a horrendous sound from above must mean that the arrival of some sort of beast attached to it is imminent.
Surprisingly enough, it's David—who apparently appears to have his wits about him for once—spots the creature as it breaks through the trees from behind.
"Robin run!" The prince gasps, grasping Robin's arm.
Even in this dire moment, the former king has just enough time to scoff at such a suggestion. "No," he declares darkly, puffing out his chest, "I don't run from monsters. They run from me."
It's with a flick of his wrist that a flaming fireball bursts to life in his palm. And without a moment's hesitation, Robin hurls it forward. But the sneaky thing dodges right of it just in time, screaming out a cry of anger.
"Robin!"
A hand snatches his arm again, tugging him to the ground. But David's meager attempts at finding shelter are instantly thwarted when in the blink of an eye, the beast is upon them. It grabs Robin's other arm and he feels himself being yanked skyward as his body is hoisted off the ground. Feet dangling helplessly in mid-air, Robin grapples with the vice-like grip on his arm when he feels another weight pull heavily this time on his left ankle. Robin falls back to the forest floor with a thud, hissing when pain spikes through his forearm. The creature's long talons had caught his skin on the way down.
"It's too fast!" David pants, yanking a disoriented Robin back onto his feet.
"I'm open to suggestions."
With a sharp flap of its bat-like wings, the beast flips around, hurdling itself downward once again towards its intended prey. This time, Robin doesn't even have the chance to conjure another fireball when another cry pierces the air.
"Get down!" The voice is distinctly female. But the former king doesn't have time to dwell on it when he's shoved to the ground for a second time by a very desperate Charming.
A brief whizz, followed by another blood-curdling cry in agony, and their predicament is over just as fast as it came. Grunting in annoyance, Robin pushes himself up onto his heels. With his ears still ringing from the beast's now faded cries, he peels back the tattered arm of his tunic to assess the extent of his injury. Stinging very badly, it's a nasty gash, caked in blood—and now in dirt, thanks to David.
"My lord?" That same voice calls, softer this time and a heck of a lot closer.
Robin whips his head around to see someone standing over him, a petite form blocking out the sun. He blinks up at her, blue eyes widening as he focuses on her own chocolate orbs which stare with far more concern than is necessary. Thin eyebrows pulling together, full lips pursing, her olive-toned skin looking so soft and flawless from underneath a thick green cape and matching light armor, this woman is absolutely stunning.
She leans over him, offering a small but sturdy-looking gloved hand, her face still set hard with worry. "You're injured." Those big brown eyes flicker towards the nasty cut on the former king's arm.
Robin fights the urge to roll his eyes, settling instead for a grumbling, "It's Your Majesty. And I'm fine." Ducking his head, he pushes himself from his feet, promptly ignoring the woman's still proffered hand.
She clears her throat, dropping said hand back to her side. But it doesn't stay there long when she lifts it up again to swipe at a lock of hair that had fallen forward from her thick long braid. Then, upon expertly slinging her bow up and over her head, she adjusts it so that it hangs diagonally across her small frame along with a bulging quiver of arrows.
Robin surveys the motion carefully before speaking again, pride getting the best of him. "I didn't ask for your help."
Dark eyes darken even more as they narrow in on his. "You know, a simple 'thank you' would suffice," she retorts, undeterred by Robin's callousness.
"Well, I'm grateful for the assistance," a voice pipes up beside him. Robin turns to see David grinning foolishly at the woman.
It's apparent she catches on to his sentiment, offering a small smile in return. "Regina of Locksley," she states by way of introduction. "At your service," she then adds, her smile widening as she tilts her head at the former king.
Robin lifts his brow at the gesture. Cheeky. Though, he's slightly puzzled, her name having rung a distant bell.
"These are some of my Merry Men," Regina continues, gesturing behind herself to a ragtag bunch that emerges from the surrounding brush.
"I'm David," Charming introduces with another smile and a nod of his head.
"Pleased to finally meet you, Your Highness," Regina returns graciously, biting that plump lower lip of hers. The movement immediately attracts Robin's attention. "I distinctly remember a time when our 'Wanted' posters hung side by side."
Ah! Robin thought her name sounded familiar. Of course she would be Regina of Locksley, otherwise known as Regina in the Hood, the elusive scoundrel and scofflaw who'd run amok as far back as he could remember during his reign as the vicious Evil King. The former king looks to the girl—woman—with renewed interest. She is not at all what he'd expected. This seemingly untamed outlaw is far too beautiful for this rugged, desolate forest. Idly, Robin wonders what possibly could have happened to have rendered her with no choice but to steal. Though, he's certain that some of it must have been some kind of ego-driven feat, given her reputation as one who steals from the rich and gives to the poor—a ludicrous deed that has grant her the title of hero, to some.
"And it appears it would be just my luck that I'd save the infamous Evil King." Regina now addresses him, smirking widely. "Quite ironic, wouldn't you say, after all those years of running from your Black Knights."
So, the little thief has quite the tongue. "Well, I'm sure you deserved it," Robin sniffs, sending her his signature evil stare.
But Regina does nothing except laugh it off, her arms crossed and eyes sparkling with mirth. It irritates Robin to no end.
"So, what do you think that was?" David interrupts, sneaking a glance at the sky.
Regina follows his gaze, peering up towards thick clouds that appear to be rolling in slowly from the east. "I don't know," she answers with a sigh, "Some kind of feral monkey with wings, I presume." She answers as if it is the most normal thing.
Robin frowns. "That has to be a new one, hasn't it?"
"Well, in all my years of hunting in this forest, I haven't encountered the likes of it before. That is, until just a few weeks ago."
Robin is puzzled and slightly unnerved, wondering exactly what could have attracted these beasts so suddenly. And there's only one place where a monkey with wings can be found.
"We should warn the others," David states, now looking determined to get back to his precious Snow White.
Regina nods in agreement. "Indeed. And it looks as if there's a storm coming. You all are welcome to take shelter at my camp," she offers, casting her gaze back and forth between both prince and king. "And you, Your Majesty—," she eyes Robin specifically, "—you better have someone look at that wound. It could get infected if not cleaned and dressed properly."
This time, Robin lets his eyes roll to the heavens. "I'm quite capable of taking care of myself, thank you," he snaps. To prove it, he concentrates on his arm, waving his free hand over the laceration. But the magic doesn't come. Gritting his teeth, he tries again.
Nothing.
Feeling like this would be the perfect time for Regina to laugh at him, he spares a glance in her direction. She's not laughing, per se. But she is chewing on her lip whilst trying to look as sympathetic as possible.
"It must be the beast's claws." Robin is quick to find an excuse, even though this sudden hindrance of his magic comes as incredibly unsettling. "They must be laced with some sort of counter spell."
"I'm sorry," Regina speaks genuinely. She steps forward. "Do you want me to look at it?"
"No," Robin asserts, turning away and brushing past both her and David. "I'm fine. Let's get back to the others."
Gravel scrapes underfoot, creating a dreadfully annoying sound as Robin makes his way from the secluded farmhouse. Irritated that he finds no sign of life anywhere on the outside and not wanting to spend more time wasted in this desolate place on the outskirts of town, he has forgone any further search and is now headed back down the small driveway.
This Wicked Witch proves to be far more resourceful than he'd thought: clever in keeping Rumplestiltskin's location under wraps and meticulous in covering up her tracks, even those of the smallest traces of magic. It worries Robin to think what she could possibly be after; himself along with the others having no recollection as to why she means to incur so much wrath as to hold the Dark One in her claws.
Damn this bloody curse! And not to mention the fact that his own son doesn't remember him, a cruel punishment for the reformed king who has been trying his best to remain his redeemed, honorable self.
These thoughts sour his mood such that he almost misses the subtle snap of a twig coming from the direction of the house. Brows pulling together, Robin swivels around. His heart jumps at the anticipation of a possible altercation with one of the witch's hideous pets.
However, there's nothing. Not even a stirring.
But that doesn't mean there's not something there. The hair on the back of Robin's neck raises in the suspense. Drawing himself up, he yells an aggressive, "Show yourself, you winged freak!" out into the silence.
Almost immediately, something flies towards him. And in an instant, with his reflexes enhanced by magic, Robin leans backward, hand shooting upward to catch the weapon—a single arrow—just centimeters from his face. Letting out a short aggravated breath, the former king glares at the thing clasped tightly in his fist. He's highly offended. Whoever would dare release this arrow so carelessly is about to pay.
"I'm so sorry!" The voice is feminine, though deep and resounding. It's accompanied by a fast pace of footsteps moving in his direction down the driveway. "I thought you were the Wicked Witch."
Robin turns from the arrow in his hand to the person before him. His brows lift as he sets eyes on an unfamiliar woman standing there dressed in a pair of simple jeans, a thick hooded jacket, crimson scarf, and a hardy-looking pair of boots. She looks up at him with jet-black eyes that peek out from behind a lock of raven hair, which can't seem to remain tame and bundled along with the rest in a short, chunky braid. Her cheeks are slightly rosy from the cold, a perfect shade of pink against her otherwise smooth olive-toned skin. She is much shorter than he, her stature quite petite. Though Robin reckons, with that fiery look in her eye and the way she tightly grasps her trusty crossbow, she is no less a strong and able fighter.
"Well, you certainly aren't the flying monkey I expected," the former king comments, still lost in her fathomless dark gaze.
The woman chuckles, ducking her head as she fits her plump bottom lip between her teeth. "Regina of Locksley," she introduces, holding out a hand. "At your service."
Robin arches a brow at her name. He is halted for a moment, racking his brain to find any sort of a connection with such a name that sounds so familiar until—ah! "The thief." He presses her arrow into her hand.
Regina offers a crooked smile at the former king's recognition, shaking her head as she accepts her arrow. "So it appears my reputation proceeds me."
"How could it not?" Robin replies, "You are the most notorious outlaw back in the Enchanted Forest."
"And proud of it, just as I'm sure you are with your title, Your Majesty."
"So you do know who I am." The former king smirks. "Though, I would prefer Robin."
"Duly noted." Regina nods. "And well, I'm not the only one in the Enchanted Forest with a reputation," she declares, "And judging by it, I'm really hoping that my mistake hasn't costed me my head." Her eyes blink up at him as she awaits his next move with a mock tilt of her head.
She's playing with him, a lighthearted banter that amuses Robin. It lifts him from the pessimistic rut in which he'd previously had himself, giving way for a profound intrigue to fill its place. It's almost a phantom-like feeling, something that is vaguely familiar yet not quite discernible as to why. It's those eyes, also. How come he feels like he has seen them before?
"Have we met before, by any chance?" Robin voices his ponderings. He studies the woman who now slides her arrow back into the quiver that hangs across her back.
Regina shakes her head. "I really doubt I'd forget meeting you," she says, "Though, you never know. It could've been during that pesky year that none of us seem to remember." She wiggles her brow at him.
"Perhaps," Robin answers pensively, which brings him to another question. "What are you doing out here anyway?"
"Well, I was hoping I could find the witch," Regina replies, glancing back at the abandoned farmhouse, "Maybe make her pay for what she has done to a few of my men."
Robin lifts his chin in understanding, remembering the reports that had come in just this morning about citizens disappearing in clouds of green smoke, only to be replaced by another one of the witch's fearsome creatures. "I'm sorry. But I'm afraid she's long gone."
Regina sighs, a look of disappointment washing over her quite strikingly beautiful features.
"You really think you could've taken her down with sticks?" Robin can't help but ask as he points his chin towards her quiver.
The thief frowns, straightening herself up. "Well, I'd certainly try," she defends, "We mere mortals don't have the luxury of magic like you do." She almost scoffs at that.
Robin chuckles at her disgruntlement, highly amused by the way she can appear so haughty despite her position.
"Speaking of which, since I've conveniently run into you, I was hoping maybe you can track her down with your magic?"
Robin shakes his head. "I don't know," he answers, "The witch is quite good at covering her tracks."
"Well, there's no harm in trying," Regina says, starting to make her way back towards the house. Oddly enough, Robin finds himself to be following. "Maybe we can work together."
Robin's brows lift and he steps around her, effectively blocking her path. "Says who?" He's not one so keen on gaining a partner. He prefers to work alone. Not to mention she'd only slow him down.
"Says me," Regina retorts, tilting her head, "Just now." She flashes her large brown eyes up at him, a hopeful look that Robin can't seem to ignore. "There's bound to be something, some trail of magic, left over in that house."
It has him sighing in defeat. "Just… don't get in my way."
His plea has Regina laughing in reply, her eyes sparkling with unspoken amusement. "Of course not," she says, brushing past him so close that their shoulders bump, "I wouldn't dream of it."
Rolling his eyes, Robin shakes his head silently to himself before he turns just in time to see the little thief strut into the house. He sighs again, swiping a hand through his hair before resigning himself to following briskly in her footsteps. He better catch up quickly. God forbid she break anything that could be of value.
"So, what do you think of our new friend?" Robin questions as they trudge along the forest's beaten path, en route to Regina and the Merry Men's campsite. He sneaks a glance over his shoulder at the outlaw who walks just a few feet behind. "Can we trust her?"
David shrugs a shoulder, adjusting the sword that hangs on his belt. "Why wouldn't we?"
"She is a thief."
"Perhaps," the prince acknowledges, "But then how do you think she'd look at you, especially when she's so willing to invite you into her camp? You'd think she may have some qualms there?"
Robin lifts his brows. "Point taken."
David chuckles, he too glancing at Regina who now converses animatedly with Snow White. "She is pretty, isn't she, this thief?"
No. She is far more than just that.
Robin maintains his indifferent facade, forcing himself to grimace. "She's from the forest."
The prince side-eyes Robin; the former king's banter with the thief from before having not gone unnoticed apparently. So this is the price he has to pay for wasting precious time speaking with the rabble—the rabble who just so happened to have saved his life.
"You forget that I was 'from the forest' for quite some time," David says with another chuckle, "Nevertheless, Snow—"
"Please, spare me the details of your star-crossed love story," Robin groans. He turns his head away from Charming to glare down the path ahead. "For fuck's sake, where the hell is this place?"
"Just beyond the stream up ahead," Regina answers, having overheard Robin's blatant cussing. She jogs up to his side, eyes shining deviously. "Don't worry. Just a little longer, then you can rest your oh so delicate royal feet."
Beside him, David snickers. But Robin keeps his face hard as stone as he focuses ahead, refusing to even meet the insufferable thief's eyes and all the while wondering why in the hell he'd agreed to accepting her offer in the first place. For truly, these next few nights spent before they continue on to his castle will certainly be nothing short of agonizing.
"Nothing here," Robin sighs, jiggling what appears to be an empty tin can of food. There's absolutely no sign of life, not even a partial magical fingerprint to give any sort of indication of the witch's former presence.
Beside him, Regina leans on the small kitchen table at the center of the room, playing with a half-empty salt shaker. "So none of these things carry any kind of magical properties?"
Robin shakes his head, rounding the table and Regina to have a look at the shelf behind on the back wall of this cramped space. He hears Regina shift herself around to face him, her eyes pressing into the back of his skull. "The witch appears to be good at what she does," Robin says, staring intensely at the rack, "But, lucky for us, so am I. We'll find her, don't you worry."
Behind himself, the former king can almost hear Regina's smirk as silence befalls the two of them, a pregnant pause as Robin continues to scour the shelf's items.
"You know," Regina speaks, her voice gentle, "I've heard a lot of stories that have passed through the forest about the great and terrible vicious Evil King. But… from the way I see it now, the evil part may seem like a bit of an overstatement. Bold and audacious, I suppose, but definitely not evil."
Her words strike Robin in a place he hadn't explored in a long time. They puncture a hole, giving way for a sort of warmth that floods through, spreading across his chest and allowing a small smile to slip onto his lips. It's a profound statement for the thief to make, especially with the knowledge that she most certainly wouldn't have been above the wrath that he'd inflicted upon the greater part of the realm. Robin supposes that Regina is just saying it out of flattery. But if she were, she wouldn't have sounded as sincere as she does.
Needing to read the expression that goes along with these words, Robin turns around. He faces the thief who now sits on the table, feet dangling, her eyes quietly studying. She looks incredibly composed as she remains fixed on Robin, staring at him much like a therapist would as she tries to make some sense and gain some understanding about the complicated man before her. It's that look from her which makes Robin feel almost naked, vulnerable, as if she can so easily pry him open and see down to his very core. And he's not exactly sure how he feels about that.
"The name did serve me well, however," Robin replies, deep blue eyes locked onto pools of swirling chocolate, "Fear is quite an effective tool." He smiles a little, a bit sinister in appearance, just to see how she would respond.
But to his surprise, she doesn't back down. The thief literally comes closer, a small smirk spreading across her lips as she puts the salt shaker down and slides off the table. There's a sparkle in her eye as she steps into his space, bearing a new look that he hadn't seen before. It's sly, furtive, and incredibly coquettish. Robin doesn't even realize the breath that he holds until it escapes him in a short puff, tickling her lips that suddenly linger so close to his. Heart fluttering in his chest, the former king dare not move a single muscle while highly anticipative of her next move. The closeness of their bodies is agonizing, bringing upon a new wave of a more intense warmth that closes in on Robin's body, stirring to life what lies beneath his belt.
The former king is certain that she will kiss him right then and there. But it's at the last moment that she leans to the side. Her lips miss Robin's by a quarter of an inch as she reaches around him instead to pull out a bottle from the shelf behind.
"What about this?" She drawls, voice in a far lower octave than it was before. It's deep and compelling, doing things to Robin that most certainly shouldn't be done. "Is this magic?"
So she's a seductress, this supposedly rugged thief from the forest, and a good one it seems. The fantasy comes unbidden into Robin's mind: the deadly image of Regina of Locksley poised in a gown whose velvet hugs every curve of her body and whose deep crimson accentuates the very color of her flawless skin. How beautiful she would be in a gown made for royalty, looking absolutely elegant… and downright sinful.
Feeling the weight of this enthralling moment, Robin swallows thickly, deciding to play along. "Not exactly," he rasps, "But this liquid has been known to be able to conjure courage, give strength, or even act as a love potion of sorts." He wiggles his brow.
Regina grins at him.
"But it's just whiskey, and therefore no, it's not magical," he concedes, "Especially not the day after."
The thief snickers, reaching behind Robin on her tiptoes once again to grab at something else. When she pulls back, the former king sees two glasses clasped between her fingers, that smile still spread wide across her lips.
"You want to have a drink?" Robin can't stop his smile from widening.
Regina shrugs a shoulder as she turns to set the glasses on the table. "Why not?" She answers, popping off the bottle's cap and beginning to pour. "After what's happened these last few days surviving a curse, waking up in this strange place having forgotten a year of our lives, and running around like fools trying to figure out why, we've certainly earned it." She finishes her rambling with a soft chuckle before offering Robin a freshly poured glass of the hard liquor. "So?"
Robin shakes his head. His eyes sparkle with amusement and a touch of disbelief as he lowers his gaze to accept the drink. But just as he does, his eyes fall upon the exposed area of her wrist. With her jacket sleeve now so conveniently having slipped up her arm, Robin takes in the branding on her delicate skin: the image of a single wispy feather permanently imprinted in dark charcoal ink.
The former king's heart plummets at the sight. It drops straight to his toes as he finds himself once more unable to breathe. The images cross his mind at lightning speed, flashes of events that occurred a long time ago—events of which he was so certain would disappear amidst the chaos of time, never to haunt him again. But now that they have returned by way of this chilling discovery, Robin feels a shiver run down his spine. He stands there, jaw dropped almost in horror, much to the alarm of the brunette who still stands before him, his untouched drink in hand.
"Robin?" Regina asks cautiously, her brows knitted together with a look of concern crossing over her features. "Everything okay?"
Robin shakes his head, finding himself unable to reply. He knows he can no longer stay here, having been knocked figuratively clean off his feet by the curveball that fate had so cleverly thrown at him. So it's without another word that Robin brushes past a stunned thief, swiftly making his way out onto the porch, down the steps, and away from that godforsaken place.
"There she is," the fairy points out, "The girl with the feather tattoo."
A younger, far more innocent Robin peeks through the fogged windows of this fated tavern. His eyes settle upon the image of a woman who sits at a crowded table with her back to the door. He can see no other distinct features other than those of her long thick braid that hangs down her back and that telltale feather tattoo. It appears so prominent on her inner wrist as she raises her mug into the light.
"That's her?" Robin breathes, his heart beating wildly within his chest.
Tinkerbell nods. "Yes," she replies. The green light of pixie dust, which cascades down upon the brunette from above, can be no clearer of an indication that she is the woman with whom the young king is fated to be. "She's your soulmate."
Robin swallows the lump that had formed in his throat as he feels his palms growing slightly sweatier at the fear of what this could mean. Can he really do it? Can he really be happy? The weight of the past bears heavily down on his shoulders. Every breath he takes because of it is agonizing. But that pain is all he'd known for such a long time. What would happen then if he were to suddenly let go it?
"All you have to do is walk through this door," Tinkerbell encourages, "All you have to do is just meet her." The fairy looks up at him, her own green eyes sparkling with excitement. It's a sentiment that Robin does not share in the least, despite his facade. "You can do this."
Robin swallows again. He looks back through the window at the woman who now laughs freely amidst a group of rowdy peasants. She appears so happy, so carefree, something which Robin had vowed to himself that he could never be. So he can stand here, psyching himself up to do this, to go be with this woman who is supposedly the key to his happiness. He can imagine living a happy life, free of the burdens of anger and resentment. But the sorrowful king knows that deep down, such a fantasy is unobtainable by one as dark as he.
So as the fairy leaves him, skipping off into the night and happy with the prospect of her friend finding happiness, Robin knows in his heart that her overly ambitious hopes and dreams for him will never come to pass.
There's just something about her that breathes an air of sophistication, despite her mucking about these woods. She walks with a sort of grace, moving stealthily about the trees like a predator on the hunt. She's not the bullheaded, rebellious fool that Robin expected her to be after having heard of the multiple tales of her crazy heists of breaking into mansions of nobles, hijacking royal caravans, and rallying up the peasantry against the Sheriff of Nottingham. Regina is calm and collected, meticulous, and very much in tune with the inner workings of the forest.
Robin studies the thief silently as she floats from one hidden trap to the next, making sure they remain secure and in working order to fend off any unwanted visitors. As the day creeps further on to late afternoon, early evening, gray skies turn grayer. However surprisingly, the rains had held off. Robin and the others had made it safely to Regina's camp: a small clearing with a number of tents set up amidst the many peasants who bustle about. It appeared that Regina had accumulated quite the following, something of which slightly impressed the former king, though of course he had shown no signs of it.
After a tedious hour of settling in, the Merry Men's leader had suddenly announced that she needed to go on her daily patrol of the surrounding wood and check up on her traps. Upon seeing that Robin was growing visibly restless despite his best attempts at hiding it, David suggested that Robin accompany the thief lest the former king become stir-crazy. Or at least that was the excuse. However, Robin suspects that it also could be just another sneaky trick of the prince and his newfound game of playing matchmaker. But with the glittering look in Regina's eye, the disgruntled former king acquiesced.
"So what do you plan to accomplish now that you're back in the Enchanted Forest?" Regina now asks as she continues on from the trap she'd been fixing.
Robin shakes his head. "David and Snow White want to us to reunite the kingdoms, my own and theirs. They think it would give the people strength… and hope."
Regina's eyes flicker as she glances over her shoulder at him. "Do you believe it will?"
"I highly doubt it matters what I believe," Robin sighs, "The Charmings will have their way regardless."
"I doubt that."
"You don't know them like I do. They're heroes."
Regina smiles sympathetically, giving a slow shake of her head. "Don't you think this entire hero versus villain thing is a bit too unrealistic? I mean, for the likes of reality, it's far too black and white, at least in my opinion."
"Of course, you'd think that," Robin sulks, "You're one of them—one of the heroes." He sighs at the memory of the way in which everyone back at the camp regarded Regina, especially upon her return. "People look at you the same way they would David or Snow White—with respect and adoration."
Regina frowns. "Surely what the people see is not the full story."
"It may be so, but that doesn't take away from the fact that everything just seems to work out for you heroes. You don't understand what it's like to be at the mercy of a fate you can't escape from."
Upon seeing the look in Regina's eyes as she whirls around and stops him in his tracks, Robin immediately snaps his mouth shut. Having said too much, he is overcome by a distant feeling of regret, brought upon by the darkness that emanates from the thief's intense gaze. "You have no right to tell me what I do and don't understand," she harshly states, "You have no idea what I've been through."
Robin swallows thickly, feeling much like a scolded child. He is still frozen on the spot as the thief turns on her heel and marches from him. That nagging guilt only grows as he continues after her, keeping an even further distance than before.
No words are exchanged for the rest of the excursion. And when the pair arrive back to camp, the tension that emanates from their presence has the people scuttling around the two, giving them each a wide berth.
Robin has been avoiding her ever since the incident in the farmhouse. Everywhere he goes, he feels like he has to tiptoe around as if he is walking on eggshells ready to crack at any second. That could very well describe his exact emotions. Should he manage to even get the tiniest bit close to Regina, Robin is certain his resolve will crack. And should that happen, only God knows what that could mean for the both of them.
It's frustrating, really. For the former king had tried so hard to keep his feelings in check, specifically so that he wouldn't venture down this road again. And it's all because of a pair of large brown eyes and a feather tattoo that he is once more in shambles, unsure of what to do. So, naturally, it's only fitting that he stay as far away as possible.
But such a feat seems to prove futile when in a town as small as Storybrooke—more specifically—a town as small as Storybrooke that is under attack by a Wicked Witch. It was only a matter of time before someone would be the first to fall in this ongoing struggle. In this case, it was Neal, Emma Swan's former lover who had sacrificed himself in the struggle to free Rumplestiltskin. So it's in the aftermath of this tragedy, at Neal's funeral reception, that Robin finds himself face to face with Regina once again.
"I'm sorry if anything I did the other day offended you," the brunette thief says as she boldly walks up to a stiff-looking Robin.
Robin shakes his head. "No, you didn't do anything," he assures, "It was just… I thought there was a trail and I followed it. Turns out that it led nowhere."
Regina smiles softly at him. Though, he's not sure if she buys his excuse. "Well, maybe perhaps we can finish our drink?"
Robin's lips pop open. But he's suddenly saved by none other than that spritely fairy who happens upon them at this very inopportune moment.
"Regina of Locksley?" Tinkerbell gasps, her hazel eyes widening.
Regina turns to the little blonde. "That's me," she says, extending a hand with a smirk.
"I've been wanting to meet you for a very long time," the fairy says, grinning as she shakes the thief's hand.
Regina chuckles softly. "Pleased to meet you, Tinkerbell. I've heard a lot about you."
Tinkerbell nods before glancing at Robin. "I see you've met Robin."
"I have," Regina's eyes dance with amusement, "We were just going to have a drink."
"Oh, I don't do that," Robin asserts quickly, stumbling over his words, "Well—not during the day… that is." Inwardly, he curses himself to get it together.
"I see," Regina says, narrowing her gaze at him. If Robin doesn't know any better, she looks disappointed. "Perhaps some other time then," she bids before taking her leave, nodding to Tinkerbell on the way.
"What was that?" The fairy hisses in Robin's ear, "Need I remind you that this is exactly what happened last time? She's your soulmate. This is what was prophesied. Why are you so keen on making the same mistake again? Why are you running?"
Robin groans exasperatedly, combing a hand through his hair. "I'm not running," he defends, "I just don't have any interest in pursuing this right now, not when that Wicked Witch is on the loose." And he is adamant about that. Because this is the most paramount reason. He has better things to do than to chase after women.
"Sssss! Can you be a little gentler?!" Robin hisses as he glares down at his open cut, watching the cloth scrub and scrape at his tender skin.
"Hold still then!" Regina scolds, "I can't if you're wiggling around."
"Do you seriously mean to make my injury worse?" Robin gives another short grunt in pain. "Stop that! You're ripping it open even more!"
"Will you shut up?" Regina snaps, "You're acting like a child when you really should be grateful that I'm saving your ass from infection!"
"Well if you actually knew how to do this properly, I wouldn't be complaining!"
"That's it!" Regina throws the rag down. Pushing herself to stand, she wipes her hands off on her trousers. "I don't even know why I bother. It's your fault after all for not letting anyone look at this sooner."
Robin grits his teeth, the tension between the two still heightened from the incident in the forest just yesterday. Not having wanted any further interaction with the sulking thief, he'd forgone coming to her for help in tending to his flying monkey injury, thus leaving Regina to think he'd sought help elsewhere. That was, until she caught sight of his festering arm at breakfast this morning and promptly—with a surprisingly great deal of strength—dragged him up from his seat around the fire and straight into her tent.
"Why should you even care? What's it to you anyway that I rot away?"
Regina's eyes flash at him, a burning fire in those chocolatey pools. "I care because maybe, just maybe, you matter around here? Maybe you have a purpose here in this abysmal place, despite the fact that you choose not to see it?"
"Really? And what purpose is that?" Robin scoffs.
Regina shakes her head. "I'm not having this conversation again with you."
"Then don't," Robin argues.
Gritting her teeth, Regina shakes her head at him. With her hands on her hips, her eyes pierce through his skull, pinning him with a frustrated, thoroughly irritated look. "Give me your arm."
"Oh, so you're still going to take care of me?" Robin mocks, "I thought otherwise."
"Just be quiet and do as I say," Regina commands, her assertiveness taking Robin aback.
The former king rolls his eyes. Heaving a loud sigh, he extends his wounded arm out as she takes a seat once more. He watches quietly as she grabs the cloth and proceeds to clean his wound again. Her touch is softer this time, though no less firm. She works her way in and around the gash, avoiding his eyes and focusing solely on the task at hand. With her like this, Robin might even say she's admirable. Neither utters a sound. That is, until Robin hisses again the second Regina reaches for the bottle of alcohol and practically pours the whole damn thing over his skin. Fuck! Goddamn this woman!
A rustling of bushes startles Robin from his seat on the log. Shoving the small piece of paper he'd been reading back into his pocket, he looks up. His eyes scan the surrounding wood until a voice alerts him to a presence from behind. And when he turns around, he sees a now familiar pair of dark eyes gazing at him through a hole of a nearby fallen tree.
"We have to stop meeting like this," Regina greets, stepping around said tree.
Robin sighs. "Did the Charmings send you to give me a pep talk?" He questions humorlessly, "Because you should know, I don't take too kindly to them."
Regina shakes her head, smirking slightly. "No, you're safe with me," she answers, "I was just patrolling the woods, hoping to stop any of the witch's further recruitment for her simian army."
Robin nods quietly, heart jumping ever so slightly as the thief comes to join him on the log.
"How are you holding up?"
Robin rolls his eyes. "I'm not a flying monkey, if that's what you mean."
"Are you going to share what's in that letter you've been staring at?"
Robin frowns, glancing over at Regina. "What letter?" His façade is set in stone.
"This one?" The thief holds up the folded piece of paper, looking rather pleased with herself.
Robin's frown only deepens.
"Oh, come on. I am a pickpocket by trade who has spent years learning how to rob from magicians."
Robin growls, voice deepening. "You're lucky I'm saving my strength for this witch."
"I think, deep down, you want to talk about it."
"What makes you think you know me so well?" Robin narrows his eyes at the audacious thief.
"Because I'd be charred to a crisp if you didn't," Regina answers courageously. She shifts to get comfortable on the log, letter still in hand. "Can I read it?"
Robin sighs, turning his head away from her. "By all means, if you're so interested…"
It's silent as Regina proceeds to read. Nothing stirs aside from the soft chirping of birds from above that break through the chilled atmosphere all around. From the corner of his eye, Robin studies the brunette as she bends over the note, her brows perfectly furrowed in deep concentration. It's an adoring look on her, no doubt.
"Well, it can't be that bad," Regina says, raising her head at the conclusion of her reading. "Seems rather complimentary in fact."
But Robin shakes his head. "No," he sighs, turning to lock his eyes onto hers once more. "That note's not about me. I always thought it was, but…"
"Then who?"
Robin lifts a brow, waiting for recognition to dawn on Regina's features.
"Zelena," she breathes, "The other student that Rumple tutored unbeknownst to you."
Robin nods. "She's apparently jealous that I was chosen to cast the Dark Curse. We had never even met," he says with a shake of his head, "I had no idea I was even competing in some kind of competition for it."
Beside him, Regina sighs. "I'm really sorry," she whispers.
A great heaviness befalls the two as they contemplate the consequences of events that happened so long ago. Now, it has been revealed that the Wicked Witch will stop at nothing to take Robin down and reclaim what she believes is rightfully hers.
"So, if Rumplestiltskin—the man who taught me everything I know about magic—wrote this letter believing that she is more powerful than I am, then there's no way I can win this fight against her."
"But do you have to do this?" Regina questions, her eyes intensely searching his for unspoken answers. "Do you have to go through with this… showdown?"
Robin exhales heavily. "You know I have to," he replies, "Otherwise she'll rip this town apart. And then… I'll have lost the chance to make my son remember me."
Realization dawns on Regina's face at the mentioning of Robin's son. The former king can just see the empathy flowing from her saddened expression. "Roland," she breathes.
"You know his name?"
Regina nods. "How could I not? He's the sweetest boy in town."
Robin shakes his head. "A boy who doesn't even remember his own father."
"I can't imagine what that must be like for you," Regina sighs, "If my own son were to not remember who I am…"
Robin's brows pull together. "You have a son?"
The thief nods. "Henry," she whispers, smiling softly amidst glistening eyes, "He's my whole world."
At her declaration, Robin can't help but smile a little in return. "As is Roland to me." He sits there, continuing to study Regina: the sincerity, the understanding that bursts forth from her expressive dark orbs. It's overwhelming to have such powerful sentiments directed at him, prompting emotions that he hadn't felt before. One of which, is the sense of security, a safeness that he feels with her which is very, very strange but oh so refreshing. How he hates feeling like he's weak, powerless, not the strong king that he'd been reared to be. But there's nothing about the look in Regina's eyes that implies her belief that he needs any sort of saving—only support.
Robin exhales, shifting his weight on the log so that he faces her even more. Regina waits patiently, a silent saving grace. "Can… can you do something for me?"
The thief tilts her head. She frowns ever so slightly, catching on to the graveness by the tone of Robin's request. But she answers regardless, "Of course. What is it?"
It's the third day spent at Regina's camp. And after having fully replenished their supplies as well as their energy, Robin along with the Charmings and the rest of the former Storybrooke citizens set off to complete their trip to the castle. Robin was most pleased to leave, highly looking forward to swapping a bedroll on mud for a plush mattress in his castle. But what he hadn't expected was for Regina and a few of her Merry Men to tag along at the invitation of David and Snow White.
Grumbling in annoyance, the former king is certain that the lot is only accompanying them for a chance to steal whatever they can once they make it behind castle walls. But, when Robin sees a small body and a flash of brown wind its way between those of the group as they trek onward, his thoughts change.
Henry is his name, a very cute four-year-old that reminds Robin so much of Roland when he was younger that it hurts. The former king had not known that Regina had a son until he'd spotted him making a beeline towards the thief when she'd first arrived at the camp with Robin and his group in tow. The resemblance is astonishing to say the least. With big brown eyes wide like saucers, a crop of unruly brunette hair that falls into his face, and a perpetual mischievous smirk, Henry of Locksley is every bit the spitting image of his mother—which oddly renders him even more endearing.
It's high noon when the castle becomes visible through the trees. Robin trudges alongside David, idly watching as Henry skips ahead just a few feet in front. He seems to be the only person who still has the most energy out of this entire group of exhausted individuals. Aside from the little tunes that the boy hums, all is quiet as the travelers press forward, keen on reaching the castle before sundown.
Robin puffs out a tired breath, retreating back into his thoughts when suddenly there's that same blood-curdling screech coming from the heavens. It's the same one that he and David had heard shortly before encountering that strange beast just a few days prior.
"Incoming!" Neal suddenly shouts and everyone draws their weapons.
The creature is approaching fast out of nowhere, tackling Neal to the ground as it makes its way further towards the group.
"Mama!"
Robin whips around, eyes wide. His heart drops in an instant upon seeing the beast heading straight for the little boy. And without thought, he lunges towards him.
"Henry!" Regina screams, but Robin knows she's too far behind to save her son.
It's at the very last second that the former king grabs the little boy and pulls him out of the way of the monster's sharp talons. And it's just as the creature regroups, heading straight towards Henry again, that Robin is swift to step in front.
"Not so fast," he growls, waving a hand towards the foul beast.
Before everyone's eyes, it turns to a cloud of blue magic before poof! It lands with a plop directly at Robin's feet, now a cuddly stuffed toy.
Regina rushes forward, wasting no time in gathering her son in her arms and hugging him tightly to her chest. With eyes still wide from leftover fear, she grips Henry tightly, hand moving up to cradle the back of his head. Robin exhales, stooping down to retrieve the toy before presenting it to the shaken little boy.
"For you," he says, smiling a smile that is warm, though doesn't quite touch his eyes. His chest constricts in pain.
Regina gapes at him, her eyes filled with some sort of amazement, overwhelmed by his sudden selfless gesture.
"Thank you," she breathes, still cuddling her beloved Henry as her eyes remain fixed on the former king. "Thank you so much."
"Did the plan work?" Regina asks, emerging from behind the tree like the thief she is in the night. Her flashlight shines forward, illuminating Robin's form as he jogs towards her.
Robin is careful of any rocks or fallen branches that could twist his ankle as he makes his way through the thick forest brush. "That depends," he pants, "Is it still here?" As he comes to a stop before Regina, he struggles to keep upright as every bone and muscle in his body protests from the violent fight he'd engaged in just thirty minutes ago.
Regina stoops down at the base of the tree, digging with her fingers around to reveal a glowing red organ that beats quietly in its hiding spot. "Right where you left it," she breathes, reaching down to pull it out with utmost care before offering it up to the former king.
Robin takes his heart, feeling the weight of his precious organ in the palm of his hand. "Then it seems the plan has worked," he says.
"Can you tell me now why you needed it hidden?" Regina asks, standing from her position on the ground.
"Something my anal mother had taught me," Robin answers with a small breath of laughter, "Never bring your heart to a witch fight." Regina smiles tenderly, tilting her head at him as he meets her eyes. "I suppose that witch was right about one thing."
"And what's that?"
"She said that I don't always realize what I have in front of me," Robin says, shivering internally at the replay of the redhead's screaming voice in his mind. A shocking but profound truth.
"What do you mean?"
"Just… that I don't always appreciate things."
The corners of Regina's lips quirk upwards, her smile so incredibly empathetic. "It's hard to find appreciation for things when you're hurting inside," she replies, laying a soft hand on his forearm. "I get that."
Robin shakes his head slowly, brows knitting together as he studies the woman before him, a look of amazement coloring his expression. It's in this moment that he realizes that she might just mean a little more to him than he'd been letting on to others—and to himself. Once again, that feeling of strength and stability washes over him. It bursts forth from a gaze so warm that it envelops him, giving him the comfort he'd long been thirsting for.
Shaking his head again, Robin takes her hand in his, feeling her long delicate fingers wrap around him. They send sparks up his spine as he slowly turns her palm upward. Regina's eyes widen as he presses his precious heart back into her hand, asking, "Do you mind if you could hold onto this for a bit longer?"
Regina lets out a shallow breath, her eyes profoundly searching his in disbelief. "Are you really going to entrust something so valuable to a common thief like me?"
Robin smiles softly, nodding his head in reassurance. "You can't steal something that's been given to you."
It's with that last utterance that he breaks from her, swiftly making his way to brush past Regina before he does something foolish. But her voice calls him back.
"You know… you still owe me a drink."
Facing the darkness of the forest now, Robin's lips split into a warm grin. "Yes. I suppose I do."
"No."
"No what?" Regina retorts, stumbling her way forward down the rocky hillside towards Robin who stands at its base.
"You're not."
"Not coming along?" Regina chuckles, "Well, surprise. I am. I can help."
"I don't recall asking for help," Robin mutters.
"Well, that doesn't mean you won't need it," Regina says, squinting down at the dark trap door by which Robin stands. Just before them, the castle looms, however fortified by a new and unfamiliar protection spell, which means that someone hijacked it—the Wicked Witch. The only way to infiltrate now is to travel underneath the new protective barrier. "I saw that winged monster back there. He wasn't after my son. He was really after you."
"What makes you so certain?"
Regina shrugs. "I know the behavior of many predators that stalk their prey. So with that beast coming after you, not to mention that this isn't the first time, I'm not a fool to believe that the Wicked Witch wants you dead."
"And what?" Robin snorts, unaffected, "You think you can protect me with a bunch of pointy sticks?" He holds back an amused chuckle as Regina fights to tamper her offended expression.
"Well, I can certainly try," she states, "Because like it or not, I owe you a debt."
"And what's that?"
Regina steps closer to him. Peering quietly in the darkness of night, her orbs flicker with the light from her torch. "Regardless of what that beast was doing, you saved Henry's life."
Robin's brows lift to his hairline as he's quite taken aback. "Who knew a thief had honor."
Regina smirks. "Who knew an Evil King would have a soft spot for children," she easily counters.
Robin shakes his head, turning back towards that lonely trap door. "Just… don't get in my way."
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it."
The tunnel is dark and foreboding. Both his and Regina's footsteps echo in tandem as Robin navigates the tight passage. Behind him, the former king can hear the thief shuffle about, careful to keep her footing as she keeps hold of the torch.
"So where are we going once we get inside?" Regina questions curiously.
"There should be a fire burning in the garden that powers the new protection spell. If I can put it out, the barrier will lower. And then, Charming can send his forces inside."
"But how would we even—"
"Wait!" Robin holds a hand out, halting Regina mid-step. The dim flickering light of her torch illuminates a deadly trap just a step away from where they stand. "Step in between."
Slowly, Robin proceeds first, stepping between the large slabs of stone, lest a pointed metal grate skewer himself and the thief.
"Well, that certainly wouldn't be pleasant to be caught unawares," Regina breathes, following carefully behind.
Robin chuckles humorlessly. "It's to keep people like you out."
Regina seems to take the blow, promptly answering, "Then I'm grateful for your warning. Henry already lost his father. I'd hate for him to lose his mother as well."
Robin lifts a brow at this new tidbit of information. He had wondered, unselfishly of course, who the boy's other parent was. "What happened to him?"
"He disappeared," Regina tells him, "shortly after Henry's birth. I came home one night after a job and… he was just gone. Everything in our home looked as it should be aside from the front door being left ajar and Henry lying alone in his crib. After weeks of trying to find him, I had no choice but to assume Daniel dead and return back to my son."
"Daniel," Robin repeats slowly, testing the name.
Regina nods, the sadness so prominent in her eyes. "It's my fault, really," she sighs, "I didn't have to run the job that night. I should've stayed home and protected him."
Robin remains quiet in his response as his mind wanders to the thought of his beloved Marian. Her death had been his fault as well. And for that, he'd never forgive himself. But for now, his darkening thoughts are jolted to a halt when he rounds a corner and suddenly spots the door leading out of the tunnel wide open.
"No," he whispers, "That can't be."
"What?" Regina breathes, coming up beside him.
"I sealed that door with blood magic," Robin says, "No one but me can undo it."
Regina thinks for a moment. "Maybe the witch was able to get past if she impersonated you," she suggests.
This switches a light on in Robin's mind. "Perhaps she used a possession of mine," he adds. But it's that thought that worries him even more. For if the witch has something of his, this grudge that she's harboring must run deep. "Let's go."
The pair emerges into Robin's family crypt: a single above-ground grave placed at the center of the circular room whose walls are filled with tiny little sliding compartments, boxes where the former Evil King had kept the hearts of his victims.
"What is this place?" Regina whispers.
"A crypt," Robin answers briskly, "Can't you tell?"
Behind him, Regina swallows thickly. "I guess I meant who's it for?"
Robin sighs, approaching the grave to reverently lay a gloved hand on its lid. "My mother," he murmurs. "Like you, there are people I've lost as well."
"Like a child?"
Robin halts, swiveling around to face Regina with a pair of wide eyes. "How do you know that?" He snaps.
Regina innocently shrugs a shoulder. "I saw the way you grabbed Henry back there," she explains, "Clearly you have a father's touch."
Robin sucks in a breath at that, a pain threatening to squeeze his chest to pieces. "I do."
"Where is he?" Regina asks, "I haven't seen him around."
"Lost," Robin whispers, "I can never see him again." It's a vicious price for the selfless person he'd tried to be when saving everyone from Pan's curse, sending them back to the Enchanted Forest in the first place.
"Oh…" Regina steps closer to him, her eyes wide with sympathy. "I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry too."
Robin's bedchamber is still intact, appearing just as it had when he'd casted the first curse. He and the thief enter, careful to make sure that it's really empty before venturing further.
"Make yourself useful and keep watch," Robin commands, not missing the way Regina's eyes widen. But she does as he says, lingering by the door as he makes his way over to a small table located adjacent to his bed.
There, Robin pulls out a large chest from beneath and sets it on the table's surface.
"What are you doing?"
Robin ignores Regina, proceeding to lift the lid and rummage through the contents.
"I'm not going to ask you again. What are you doing?"
Robin whips his head around, eyes gawking at the thief who stands there now with her bow drawn, its arrow aiming straight towards his chest. The very sight erupts from him a bout of unbridled anger. "You dare threaten me in my own castle?!" The former king shouts, not above thrusting his hand forward, cupping it in order to choke the poor woman by way of magic.
Regina coughs. But she does not loosen her hold on the weapon. "Keep choking the life from me, dear, but I will still loosen this arrow." Her voice is strained, the vein in her forehead bulging. "Trust me, I don't miss. Now, what type of dark sorcery are you doing?!"
Robin growls, continuing to squeeze harder and harder and harder until… Regina gasps for air, and his hand drops to his side. He's far too tired to kill this time. "A sleeping curse," he mutters in defeat, turning back to the task laid out before him on the table.
Regina's eyes widen. "You mean the kind you used on David."
Robin shakes his head. "No. That was a recipe I stole from Maleficent. This is something I'd learned on my own."
"So you're going to use it on who? The Wicked Witch?"
The former king chuckles grimly. "I don't care about her," he says, "I'll lower the spell so that David and Snow can be victorious. They'll like it better that way."
"Then who is that sleeping curse for?" Regina presses, eyeing Robin as he waves his hand over a certain vial. His signature blue magic illuminates the otherwise clear liquid for but a second.
"Don't worry," Robin says. "It's for no one you or anyone will miss."
"It's for you," Regina surmises with a breath. Shaking her head, she starts to approach him quickly. "Wait. I can't let you do this."
Robin rolls his eyes. That's exactly what David had said when Robin had tried to bury his own heart. With a swift wave of his hand, the brunette thief is stuck in her place.
"Robin!"
"Stop talking."
"Please, I know you miss your son. But this isn't the way. Wouldn't he want you alive and breathing?"
"Then it's a good thing that I'll only be asleep."
"That's not what I mean, and you know it!" Regina yells, exasperated. "I know it hurts. I know what it's like to lose someone you care about. I lost so much when Daniel died. But I found a way to move on because I had to, for Henry. And you can too."
"But I had already lost everyone I cared about," Robin argues, "Roland was the very last."
"That still doesn't mean you can't find something to live for," Regina persists, "We all get second chances, Robin. And I know you may not see that now, but there's one there. There has to be."
Robin swallows hard, painfully, as he holds the curse-infected needle tightly between his fingers. He turns away from Regina, heart breaking with every beat.
"We can figure this out, Robin," Regina says, "Together. You don't have to go through this alone."
There's something about her words that strikes a nerve, and Robin closes his eyes, a sob threatening to wrack his body. For here, it's a peasant from the forest that shows him the most kindness, the most empathy and support, than anyone had ever shown. And it moves him in ways he cannot describe.
Robin breathes a large exhale, blindly waving his hand to release Regina from his freezing spell, resigned to try it her way—though he can't for the life of him figure out why. But it's still with a heavy heart that he sets the needle and vial back down in the chest, figuring that it will always be there should he change his mind.
He flies through the forest, footsteps pounding dirt, kicking up leaves and stone as he bears right towards the Merry Men's camp.
"What happened?!" Robin pants, finding Regina grasping tightly onto little Henry who whimpers softly into her chest.
"I'm sorry," Regina breathes, her eyes saddened, defeated. "It's gone."
Robin's stomach immediately drops like a stone. "Was anyone hurt?" He questions, eyeing Henry who still remains quite attached to his mother, even as she sets him down onto his feet.
Regina shakes her head. "No," she answers, "Thank God, no." She glances down at Henry before looking back up at the former king. "I'm really—I'm so—"
"No," Robin interrupts, gently holding up a hand, "Nothing's worth the loss of a child."
But in his chest, there's that all too familiar sinking feeling of dread. If the witch now has his heart, and he's still alive, that means that she needs it for something far worse than his death.
And it turns out she does.
After a potion made later that day to give Robin the chance to see into the past, the former king realizes his connection with the vengeful witch in full—starting from the very beginning. Zelena truly was also a student of Rumplestiltskin, having become obsessed with Robin from the moment she'd found out about him. Highly possessive and driven close to insanity by infatuation, the young witch had spent her free time practicing her magic by stalking him and even stealing some of his belongings right out from under his nose. But such feelings turned into profound jealousy when the news broke that Robin had been the one selected to cast the Dark One's curse. So her goal is this: to cast a spell powerful enough to travel back in time and change the past so that she is the one who gets everything while Robin will be the one to suffer her current fate.
It's all quite shocking. The former king came out of his potion-induced vision in complete and utter astonishment, surrounded by the Charming family who sat by him just as bewildered. But it all makes sense now. Zelena having collected David's sword, the replica of Rumplestiltskin's brain, and now Robin's heart, it's obvious that's what she is trying to do. And it scares Robin to think what could happen should the witch be successful. He could lose Roland for good.
"I just can't believe it," Robin murmurs to Regina as he finds himself back in the forest that night, filling her in on what had happened. They sit quietly, huddled on a log by a roaring campfire. Robin stares blankly into the flames, watching as they lick towards the darkened sky. "Maybe she's right, maybe I should just let her cast the curse and take it all away from me. Maybe I don't deserve—"
"No, Robin, stop," Regina interrupts softly, "You're not thinking straight. Everything that has happened to you thus far has to have been for a reason, bad or good. And the good that has come from your life, you do deserve it."
Robin snorts a laugh. "You give me far too much credit than you should," he remarks, turning to gaze into Regina's dark eyes. Tonight, with the way her orbs capture the flickering flames in shimmering spirals of orange amidst the black, she has never looked more stunning.
"You give yourself far less credit than you deserve," Regina remarks gently before resting a hand on his knee. The gesture would have Robin feel his heart leap should it be currently beating in his chest. "You're a good man," the thief continues in earnest, "And you've come so far. You can't let these thoughts hold you back."
Robin swallows hard, sighing aloud as he continues to remain captured in her eyes. Regina smiles tenderly, a true look of adoration glazing over her features. And it's that look which Robin hadn't realized before that he'd been waiting for, for so long.
He doesn't even register their closeness until there's a soft puff of warm breath upon his lips. Though, the former king doesn't dare move away. He's not sure who makes the first move, but when their lips meet, it's like a great sense of relief washes over him—like this is how it's supposed to be. Robin feels his hands drifting towards her, fingers becoming entangled in Regina's thick locks as he loosens them from her braid in his desperate desire to hold her. At the same time, he can feel her hands sneak up the front of his chest, grabbing hard onto the lapels of his heavy trench coat. Her lips are unbelievably soft and Robin can't help but bite gently down on her lower lip. As he tugs it between his teeth, he hears a small whimper that ignites every nerve in his body.
Never has he felt more alive than in this moment, even without his heart. It's as if all traces of fear have evaporated, leaving behind nothing but a strong sense of freedom and a deep passion, all in testament to the fact that this is where he is meant to be.