AN: I didn't really think it through that Regina's maid was going to be Tink and then Tinkerbell was also going to have to take her to the tavern... So if you're not new to this story you may want to re-read chapter 1 as I've changed a few things. Her maid is now Louise and she's based on Nurse Ratched from Once. Sorry!


It's balmy outside, just on the cusp of Summer. Although the air is thick and cloying, the Castle is a cruel and barren place,the stone walls chilling its inhabitants.

This time of the year is especially hard for Regina, as she misses her stable boy, Daniel, more than ever. Alone in the palace, a chorus of cicadas is the only sound keeping her company. She longs to feel the cool grass beneath her bare toes and the wind in her hair as she charges through meadows on the back of her horse. Although Rocinante is still with her, she rarely gets gets the opportunity to take him for a ride anymore. As Queen, she is expected to be at her husband's beck and call and any time she indulges in a ride, the resulting argument and manipulative mind games that follow barely make her momentary escape worth it.

With the heavy press of Daniel's death, the stale air and oppressive walls, she dresses in billowy sleeves and floaty skirts, allows her hair to tumble down her back instead of pinning it up into cumbersome, weighty twists atop her head. The dress is white today, ironic she thinks, in view of her gradually darkening soul.

She is beginning to feel as though the cabin fever will slowly drive her insane. She may be halfway there already. Although she initially abhorred the idea of learning from The Dark One, she is starting to tolerate his visits merely because it is the only time she is in the company of someone who, in his sick twisted way, cares about her. She isn't naive to think he's not doing it to ultimately satisfy his own purposes, but at least he visits and encourages her in her progress with the dark arts, which empowers her with a sense of accomplishment and alleviates the tedium of day to day life.

But even with the Dark One's visits, the crushing loneliness and suffocating routine have been slowly driving her crazy. Her thoughts towards the King, Snow and other inhabitants of the castle are becoming particularly venomous, so much she is snapping at her father, at the servants, and she feels as though she's never going to make it out the other side.

One day, when she just can't take it any longer and accidently takes a nosedive off her balcony - she's not entirely certain it's a coincidence; maybe apart of her wanted it all to end then and there -she is rescued from the brink of death by a sparkly green, bothersome fairy.

...

"Inside here lies the beginning of your happiness. All the pain in your past will be just that. The past."

The tavern isn't much to look at. A particularly strong gust of wind could probably bring the whole structure to the ground, but there is a warmth glowing from inside, a sense of home and family. The door swings open as one of the patrons leaves and jovial laughter reaches her ears.

"I just need a moment."

Can she really do this? What is she even going to say to him? "Hi, I'm your soulmate?" seems like the surest way to make someone run for the hills. And what if he recognises her as the Queen? What if he doesn't like her? All these uncertainties are making her anxious and apprehensive butterflies gnaw at her stomach.

"You're nervous. I get it. But look! There he is." Regina steps in to take a look at him herself. Her breath catches at the sight of him. He is slouched over his tankard of ale and from the periphery looks particularly unexceptional. The man raises his right arm so that a waitress can refill his cup. An intricate lion tattoo adorns his right arm. The man with the lion tattoo.

"That's him?" Could this bad postured bar dweller really be the man she's destined to be with?

"Pixie dust doesn't lie. Come on, this is your chance of love and happiness. A fresh start. No baggage. You can let go off all the anger that weighs you down. Now, go get him."

If she is being truthful, her reluctance stems more from her doubt that she could possibly be any good for him. People she cares about tend to get hurt and why would he want to learn that he is cosmically shackled to a broken, semi-suicidal woman on the verge of a mental breakdown?

"Okay. Okay, I can do this. I can be happy." Pushing her pessimistic thoughts to one side, she summons all of her remaining courage and composes herself. If she's had bad luck until now, there is always the last-ditch hope that things can get better, and maybe this is the way to do it.

"I know you can. Go."

With another deep breath to steel her nerves and a nervous smile, she flings open the door, a bit more exuberantly than planned.

...

Robin, notorious bandit, sits with his friends formulating a plan for their next heist.

Things have been hard in the Enchanted Forest since King Leopold took the throne. Although he is beloved by his people, taxes are high and his spending opulent, resulting in many poor families barely able to make ends meet. Robin seems to have nurtured a talent for stealing from the rich, to lessen the pain of some of the peasants in need. The previous night had been quite the success and their large bounty had done much to reduce the hardship of their family and neighbours.

"I, Robin of Locksley, would like to propose a toast!" He stands and raises his tankard to the ceiling jovially as his men cheer and stamp their feet.

"Hush Robin," his second in command hisses, "your name has become far too well known about these parts and you never know who's listening." He's right. Robin has garnered quite a reputation for himself and is currently wanted throughout several kingdom's for crimes against the crown.

"What should I go by then, John Little? Something a bit more common as the likes of you?" he jests and John punches him on the arm, strong enough to cause Robin to splutter out the mouthful of ale he'd just taken.

"We'll see who's more common when you're strung up on the gallows like a common thief because you couldn't keep your fat mouth shut!" he grouches.

"As you wish," he placates. "I hardly think it's necessary, but if it'll put your mind at ease."

"It will."

A sudden hush falls over the table, taking Robin's attention away from another sip of his beverage. He looks over his shoulder at the source of the distraction, only to find the most remarkable creature he has ever seen in his life, looking at him with a tense smile. The gorgeous brunette stands just behind him, long curls cascading to her waist. Her dress looks expensive, intricately embroidered and studded with crystals (possibly even diamonds), that gleam in the candlelight. She's exquisitely beautiful, full lips, dark eyes, shapely figure. Simply stunning, in every way.

She seems very out of place, and hesitance flickers across her features. She is as skittish as a young foal, like she might dart away at any second and he immediately doesn't want her to. "Can I assist you in anyway m'lady?" he turns in his seat, cocks one leg over the bench so he can face her. His friends start to resume their individual conversations and turn away from Robin and the surprising new addition to the tavern.

"Oh no, I just thought we may have met before. Forgive me." Her voice is husky and rich and defies her appearance. She spins on a foot to turn away, before she pauses, seemingly at war with herself, but apparently finds her resolve as she turns back.

She takes a step closer and opens her mouth to speak again, but before she can he interrupts her.

"You wouldn't happen to believe in a higher power, would you?"

She stares at him in confusion. "What?"

"Because I think you're the answer to my prayers," he tells her, smirking. One of his men doesn't manage to quite reign in his snort of amusement and the mystery brunette blinks and then huffs out a laugh of disbelief of her own.

...

"Does that line actually work?" she scoffs, all nervousness forgotten and replaced with irritation at his cockiness. This is who the Universe has destined her to be with? This arrogant scoundrel? Seriously?

"Doooes a beautiful lady like you have an equally as exquisite name?" He bites his lip, seemingly proud of himself.

She rolls her eyes and says, "I'm Regina," before internally kicking herself for thoughtlessly blurting out her real name.

There's no flicker of recognition in his eyes however, and when he reaches out a hand, she places hers in his. "Pleasure to meet you Regina, I'm R…" The bench jolts and he winces slightly, shooting daggers at the large man to his left. "John!" he blurts out, and she blinks at him in confusion before he recovers and flashes another unarming smile. "The name's John."

"Is it?" She feigns disinterest.

"Is my name John? Why wouldn't it be?" His brow furrows.

"No, I mean, is it a pleasure?" she corrects, raising an eyebrow.

"Ahh. Let's find out." Her hand still in his, he brushes a warm kiss over her knuckles and gooseflesh tingles up her arm. "Would you care to join me for a while?"

Unable to resist the warmth of his smile and the mischievous twinkle in his captivating blue eyes, she sits daintily on a stool opposite him as his companions decide to not-so-subtly relocate to another area.

She feels completely out of place. Her attire is entirely inappropriate; everyone else is dressed in clothes meant for working and she sticks out like a sore thumb. John orders her a drink and he's... a charmer, completely at home in his own skin. Arrogant? Yes. Cocky? Definitely. But there's also a warmth to him, a quiet strength and sense of honesty.

The drink enables her to loosen up, gives her a little bolster of confidence, but even without it she's sure conversation would flow between them with ease. She sasses him, he sasses back, he compliments, she glows… He asks questions about her life, seems legitimately interested in who she is and what makes her tick. She answers the best she can, dodges what she can't and learns more about him in return. He tells her of his friends, more his family really, and he regales her with stories of their tomfoolery. As she can't talk much about her current position, she sticks to safe topics, like her childhood. Of growing up and of afternoons wiled away on her favourite horse. She can tell he's also hiding certain things, but does her best not to pry because he has given her the same courtesy. Nothing has felt this right in a very long time.

She's attracted to him. Deeply attracted. Her earlier assessment of him being average couldn't be further from the truth. He's taller than her, but not excessively so, his chest and shoulders broad and strong, his hands calloused and arms well defined. His voice alone seems to stir the simmering arousal within her and if the way his gaze keeps dropping to her lips is any indication, she's not the only one feeling it. There's a mischievous sparkle to his eyes and she finds it captivating.

Before she knows it, they're alone. The last few stragglers are exiting the public house and the bar wench is throwing them pointed looks, hinting that they should leave too. The last of their conversation ebs away into a comfortable silence and he contemplates her, head tilted slightly to one side, smiling warmly. "Please don't think this another one of my idiotic lines M'lady, but there's something about you that entrances me." He covers her hand with his own and she can feel her cheeks flush.

"Thank you for this evening." She clears her throat and studies the roughly hewn wood table. "It has been… the most fun I've had in a very long time and I'm sad that it appears to be at an end." She is really enjoying his company, doesn't want the night to be over. She never thought that she would feel this way again after Daniel, but now that she does, she doesn't want to let it go.

"I am too." He takes a long moment to stare at her and she's almost unnerved by the emotion in his eyes, before he shakes his head. "Let me walk you out." He keeps his hand in contact with hers and allows her to stand from her seat. Entwining their fingers, he leads them out of the tavern door.

His hand against hers burns, aflame everywhere his skin touches hers. He pauses several paces down the alley that connects the tavern to the main road and lifts her hand to his mouth once more, kissing her knuckles, turning her hand over and pressing another kiss to her palm.

The feeling is so intimate he may as well be kissing her mouth and she releases a quiet whimper. "Don't go," he whispers, pressing another kiss to her wrist, and one in the crook of her elbow. She shivers as he takes a step closer, releasing her arm and cupping her jaw, kissing her cheek, the corner of her mouth, before finally connecting their lips.

His other hand slides to the small of her back, pressing her to him as she presses into his body. The night is humid, but his warmth is still a welcome one. The kiss awakens a long dormant arousal in her, makes her yearn to be closer to him, to feel his skin against hers. She feels warm in a way that has nothing to do with the current climate and all to do with the soft press of his lips against hers as her stomach curls with anticipation. He tastes mildly like ale, slightly malted with a hint of sweetness, but she can't say it's unpleasant.

For several heady moments, they kiss, exploring each other's mouths, tongues tangling. He breaks them apart, kisses her lips one last time before mouthing across her jaw and down the side of her neck. She moans as he sucks lightly on her sensitive skin, wraps her arms round his shoulders to anchor herself and moans again in encouragement. His hands stroke her sides, wandering up and down, before settling with thumbs just framing below her breasts.

"Wait," she stops him and he immediately pulls away, looking at her with concern, an apology forming on his lips, but she's talking before he has a chance to say a word. "We shouldn't be doing this." She finds that she doesn't want to deceive him, can't be with him under false pretences.

"And why not?" He's not disappointed, just confused.

"You don't know everything about my life, about…" She takes a deep breath, bracing herself for his reaction. "I'm married, John."

His face falls. He takes a step back to give them both some breathing room and contemplates her, expression unreadable. She wishes that she could tell what he's thinking, wants nothing more than for him to not be disappointed in her, or resentful for her dishonesty. In this short time together, she has really grown to like him and can't bare to have hurt him.

Apprehensively, she allows her story to pour out. She still can't tell him that she's the Queen; it would endanger them both. But she does explain how she has felt the last few years, tells him about feeling trapped, how she'd lost her first love and was then pushed into an arranged marriage by her mother to a husband that barely notices she exists until he wants to show her off to his guests.

"He's an idiot if he doesn't realise what he has right under his nose." He's angry on her behalf, doesn't like the thought of her being mistreated or lonely. She can see it in the flex of his hands and the tight clench of his jaw and her heart longs for him even more.

"So you aren't happy?" he finally asks. "If you were, you wouldn't be out here with me."

"I'm not," she sadly agrees. "I'd leave him in a heartbeat if I could. But you don't know what he's like, it would be dangerous to..." Fear grips her heart at the thought of something happening to him.

He sighs resignedly, tucks a lock of her behind her ear and cups her jaw, brushing his thumb over the apple of her cheek. She can't help but turn her head and place a kiss into the palm of his hand. "I feel like you belong here with me. I know that's crazy and that we've only just met but…"

"I feel it too." Her forehead drops to his chest for a moment, and he cradles the back of her head, stroking a hand through her hair.

"I should go." She mumbles into his shirt, wanting to do anything but. "I'm sorry that I've led you on, led you to expect that I was free to be with you."

"Regina, no." He tilts her head up and presses a kiss to her forehead. "I had no expectations of this night. I've just immensely been enjoying your company this evening. I'd much rather have spent my time with you than with a group of smelly men." She chuckles at that, relief washing over her that he truly bears her no ill will

"But must you really leave? I would normally have no desire to cuckold another man, but he seems like a complete fool for the way he has treated you."

Her eyes brim with tears as she shakes her head and tells him she truly doesn't want to go home just yet. That she'd felt more alive in one night with him than she could remember.

"We can just go to my quarters and talk all night if you wish. I'm quite content with just spending some more time getting to know you. And from what you say, it's unlikely that you'll be missed." He looks completely sincere and the warm, mushy feeling she's developing towards him finds further purchase on her heart as he gives her another devastating smile which she answers with her own weak one. "Whatever you want Regina."

Whatever she wants. No-one has ever allowed her to do what she wants before. Annoyance flashes through her. Why shouldn't she do what she wants for once?

Regina has been so alone for so long and he is rightfully hers after all. He's the man she is destined to be with. Who knows if she'll see him again after this? But the Universe has made him for her and she wants to be selfish. She doesn't want to be The Queen, or Leopold's wife; she just wants to be a woman, a woman desired by this man. Her mind suddenly made up, she takes a deep breath and tells him, "I don't want to talk. I want to do something for me. Just this once."

He smiles, huffs out an almost relieved sigh. His thumb moves from her cheek to brush across the fullness of her bottom lip. She can feel the warmth of him all down her front. She leans in and her breasts brush against his chest lightly before he groans and captures her lips in another soul-searing kiss.

The hand by her cheek pushes into her hair as his other slides to her elbow. He walks them both backwards until the alley wall support her back. She opens her mouth to him again willingly and their tongues begin a new tentative dance.

They remain pressed together intimately for what could be minutes, or could be hours, drinking each other in. The hand at her elbow moves to her hip as heat pools between her thighs. She can't remember ever being this aroused, this wanting, and she truly does want him more than anything. The kiss seems to suddenly flame, she can feel him against her as she presses impossibly closer, hard against her hip. She lifts one leg to wrap around his and he slides a hand to the hem of her skirt, rucking it up past her knee. His hand slides gently up her inner thigh, stroking back and forth as their mouths fuse and a wanton moan passes her lips.

He groans when his fingers move further up and encounter the damp material of her underwear. And she can't help the whimper that escapes her as he hesitates and slowly traces along the edge before pushing the material away at her shaky nod and slipping his fingers inside, exploring gently.

When he first touches her center, she feels unsteady, her other leg trembles as she is lost in the sensation of him and he manages to catch her just in time with his other arm before it buckles and lands them into a heap on the dirty ground.

She whines at the loss for his hand from under her dress, but he presses her forehead into his shoulder, and whispers into her ear,"Would you come to my lodgings with me? I'd like to... explore you properly."

Growing even wetter with the anticipation, she nods into his shoulder. He takes her hand again, thumb rubbing back and forth across her knuckles as he leads her round the back of the tavern and up some rickety steps. Apparently, he's living above.

"You're staying here?" she questions.

"It's not much, but it's home for now." The room is spartan but clean, and he gestures for her to take a seat on the edge of his bed, moving to stand in front of her. It strikes her that she's never been in this position before, able to just spend time with another man, and she's never in her life made love to someone. With Daniel, there had only been a few innocent fumblings, hidden from the world in an old stable stall, and Leopold uses her to satisfy his own needs and cares very little for her own.

"Can I get you something else to drink?" John asks, nervously running a hand over the back of his head, ever the gentleman.

She's suddenly determined to experience all of the things she's missed out on.

Fisting a hand in his shirt, she pulls his mouth to hers. He's surprised at first, hesitates for a second before he reciprocates the kiss, but when he does, it's toe-curlingly good and she thinks she could spend eternity with her lips fused to his.

Placing a hand on his belt buckle, she forces herself to pull away. "You said you wanted to explore me, but would you mind indulging me?" She looks up at him pointedly and the corner of his mouth quirks in response.

Taking it as acquiescence, Regina slowly undoes his belt, fingers working with the buckle until it gives, then reaching around to untuck his shirt from his trousers, nails coasting over bare skin. John reaches forward, combs fingers through her hair, tucking it behind one ear. He looks at her with hooded eyes, mouth parted slightly as he breathes deeply, shivering at her ministrations. From there, it's a matter of seconds before the garment is discarded on the floor, long forgotten, her eyes taking in the view of his torso for the first time.

Her breath catches; he truly is attractive.

Following suit as he kicks off his shoes, she drifts her hands across his shoulders and down his chest, palms resting over his firm pectoral muscles. Fingers skating over warm skin.

Ducking his head down, he steals another heated kiss, full of teeth and tongue. Distracted, Regina indulges him for a long moment before she recollects her previous intentions. "Wait!" she gasps out as she manages to break away for a breath. "I'm exploring you," she says with a pout and he answers with one of his own, which quickly melts away when she starts placing kisses and nibbles along his jaw.

He's impatient, her soulmate, and his hands gravitate from their safe purchase on her waist to her behind, palming her rear and pulling her hips closer toward him. Her lips hit his neck as he does so, kissing and biting gently, making him groan. Her mouth slowly explores his flesh, learning what he likes, the areas that make him squirm and groan as his head tilts back.

She can feel him, hard against her lower half and rolls her hips against the bulge in his trousers, trying to alleviate some of the pressure building between her legs. He sucks in a breath and "mmmms" in the back of his throat. The sound is delicious, sends tingles through her body, makes her clit throb and nipples tighten against him.

One of his hand has tangled in her hair again, the other playing with the end of another stray lock. He likes her hair, she notes. May have a little fetish for it. She mouths her way up and back across his jaw to his mouth again, licking against the seam of his lips until he opens up to her.

She slides a hand down between them, juts her hips backwards so she has room to worm her fingers between them and trace his length with a soft touch. She revels in the sounds he makes, at the pleasure she's obviously giving him, at the way his hips press into her hand.

Eventually, he stills her with a gentle palm on her wrist. "I know you want to explore, love..." she tries to ignore the way her heart skips a beat at the label he bestows upon her, "but I equally want to explore you. May I?"

Scant moments pass before he shuffles them both forward, reluctantly parting their lips, and makes her sit back on the bed. She scoots back further this time, tucks a leg under her body so she can tug him onto the bed for her. He pauses first though, finishes undoing his trousers and she can't help but lower her eyes and sneak a peek at him as he's not wearing anything underneath.

Cheeks flushing, she lays backwards and settles herself against his pillow as he puts a knee onto the mattress and moves over her. His hand wraps around her ankle, then travels up, slowly hitching her dress up as it goes. The feel of the gossamer fabric is highly erotic as he takes pleasure in teasing her, dropping a kiss here and there as more flesh is revealed. One to her knee. Another to her hip. He also catches the edge of her slip and brings that up with the rest of her vesture. His breath catches as he bares her breasts, Regina's nipples pebbling further against the cooler air and he lightly touches, almost reverently, trails his fingers over the swells of her breasts as he pulls her dress the rest of the way off. Normally, embarrassment would have taken over her right now, but for some reason, his touch has the opposite effect. She's never been this calm.

His lips follow his fingers, kissing across her chest. He lingers at her nipples, swirls his tongue around one, while his fingers lightly rub at the other. Little zings of pleasure spark where he makes contact with her skin and dart down to her core, and she bites her lip to keep quiet. He alternates breasts, gives the other the same treatment and then moves lower, placing warm kisses down the plane of her stomach to just above her sex. Her thighs part as he nears the place where she aches for him, allowing him to move into the space between her legs.

John toys with the edge of her underwear before catching the hem in his fingers and tugging them down, allowing her to slide them the rest of the way off.

He looks up at her heatedly and she tangles a hand into his hair as he places a kiss to her clit. Staying silent is impossible this time, a heady moan he seems to appreciate breaking the seal of her lips. he feels him smile against her core before starting up with little petting licks, fingers tracing whorls on her inner thighs. He is entirely too talented with his tongue, she thinks as he continues his task with enthusiasm, the sight of the top of his head and his face buried in her sex incredibly erotic, and her core clenches in response.

When she almost bucks away from his mouth from the acute pleasure, he drapes one arm across her hips, effectively stilling them. His fingers trail over her sex, one of them circling around her entrance, and he groans against her thigh when he feels how wet she is for him, before sliding one inside, thrusting in and out slowly. She's getting close now, far too quickly. She wants to indulge, for this to last forever, but she has only ever managed to orgasm using her own fingers before, Leopold never bothered about anything other than his own pleasure and she's far too riled up for this to last much longer. He pushes another finger into her and sucks hard as she tips over the edge with a whimper, pleasure spreading upward from her core and pulsating through her for a long minute.

She's breathless and sweaty, can see light beads of moisture on her chest as she looks down at him with hooded eyes. He allows her to come down slowly, fingers still moving in and out of her as he rests his head on her leg and grins. "I can't wait to be inside you," he tells her reverently. It's hot, how much he wants her and she's sure that sentence alone just made her a whole lot wetter.

She asks him what he's waiting for and he's breathing just as heavily as she is as he crawls swiftly up her body. He's trying to hold back, but she doesn't want him to anymore. She's completely ready for him and knows that he is for her, probably past the point of comfortable arousal and fully hard as he settles between her thighs. He skims the tip of his nose along hers, she can taste herself on his tongue when he kisses her languidly making the whole experience more illicit and wonderful.

"You are so beautiful," he says as he pushes her knees a little wider, one hand pumping himself up and down a couple of times while the other dips between her legs again, checking that she's still wet. She is, is ridiculously so, has been for a better part of the evening by this point. Satisfied by what he finds, he lines himself up and pushes in slowly and they both moan in tandem as he stretches and fills her until he's buried to the hilt. He takes a moment, gives her time to adjust to him and kisses her once more before he begins to move.

She feels full, pleasantly so, sighs contentedly and enjoys the feel of him moving, loves the slick slide of him as he pushes in and out. At this point, she's unsurprised that they fit perfectly together – this whole evening has been beyond her wildest expectations. Her nails rake over his shoulders as she clenches around him, relishes in making him groan and temporarily lose his rhythm, jerking against her. His hips move against hers a little faster as he murmurs in her ear, tells her how wonderful she feels, how warm and wet she is for him, how he wants to stay buried inside her forever, but doesn't think he'll be able to last much longer...

She's whimpering now as he picks up the pace even more, shifts positions slightly and suddenly she can see white, bright sparks before her eyes as he his a spot inside her that she hadn't even known existed. "Oh god!" she moans into his neck as he huffs out a breathless chuckle and keeps going at that angle, that perfect angle, hitting that same spot over and over again. She clenches around him on reflex after one particularly delicious thrust and his rhythm stutters, has him groaning even louder, sneaking a hand down between them to where they are intimately connected and start to rub little circles against her clit.

She cannot remain quiet, cannot. She's experiencing complete bliss, all her senses heightened as her core starts to flutter again, little pulses of pleasure that keep fizzling out until they aren't, until they just keep coming, stronger, longer, make her cry out for him louder. He's moaning too, rolling his hips against her harder, faster, until suddenly she's coming again with a harsh shout, body clenching tightly around him as he thrusts a handful more times before he's also tipping over the edge, releasing into her, hips still jerking intermittently before he stills, collapsing on top of her, unable to support himself any longer. She finds she doesn't mind, enjoys the protective feel of his weight on top of her hers.

Eventually, he raises his head and kisses her gently with a soft smile, but as comfortable as the warmth of his body over hers is, one of her legs begins to cramp, jerking against his side. Realising her discomfort, John shifts off of her and runs a soothing hand along her the affected calf, massaging it gently. As the ache slowly ebs away, he sidles up next to her, opening an arm up to her and smiling sleepily. Regina grins back in return and turns to her side, shifting back into his embrace.

They spoon together, her backside nestled comfortably in the curve of his body. She feels cherished, content and like she might even start purring like a cat as he rests an arm over her belly, fingers tracing soothing patterns on her stomach. The cocoon of his arms give her an overwhelming sense of safety.

She feels suddenly exhausted - like she could fall asleep at any second but her mind won't let her. What they've just done is dangerous for him. Her self-indulgence, if discovered, could cost them both their lives.

She's cold despite the warm arms wrapped around her. Despite the feeling of security enveloping her, the uncertainty of what is to come next lays heavily on her chest, twisting her stomach into knots. This couldn't last. Everything good in her life always has to end, leaving her cold and alone.

He must feel her body stiffen against him because he questions if she's alright.

"I don't want to go back to him, not when I've had this," she confesses and winces internally at the crack in her voice. She doesn't want to appear needy, but he asked after all.

Pressing their cheeks together, he brushes his lips against her skin. "I've become rather addicted to you m'lady. I don't think I can give you up now I've had you." He runs gentle fingers through her hair. "So don't go."

She starts to protest, to warn him about the consequences of her staying, but he doesn't give her the chance, simply brushes another kiss to her temple.

"I'm not scared of your husband. He must be a complete fool to treat you as he does, to not recognise what he has in front of him." His thumb strokes across her brow, smoothing out the lines of anxiety. "Sleep now, we'll figure it out in the morning."

She wills herself to relax back into him, physical and emotional exhaustion overcoming her as she is gradually lulled to sleep by the rise and fall of his chest and gentle fingers playing in her hair.

The light of morning bleeds through a gap in the threadbare curtains and settles irritatingly across her face pulling her from blissful sleep.

She has rolled to her front in the night, but John still has an arm draped across her mid-section. Moving her face out of the annoying beam of light, she snuggles closer to him, careful not to awaken him. She lies there for several minutes, drifting between sleep and consciousness until her bladder persistently makes itself known and she has no choice but to get up and find the nearest outhouse.

Careful not to wake him, she gently extricates herself from his arm and pulls her dress over her head, not bothering with her slip as she sneaks out the door. She remembers seeing a communal outhouse not too far of a distance from the alleyway. It looked about as sturdy as the Tavern, but she's pleased to find that it's clean enough when she relieves herself. She's just about to leave when she hears voices outside and hesitates.

"Morning Tuck!" It's a young woman, from the sound of her voice.

"Morning Judith," a male voice greets in return.

"Have you seen my husband? He didn't come up to bed last night," the woman asks, sounding a little anxious.

"Last I saw John he was drinking with Robin, the boys and a rather stunning brunette," the man replies, before their voices drift further away and Regina can no longer make out any of the discussion.

She suddenly feels sick. John is already married, he already has a wife. How could he? She supposes she has done the same thing, made Leopold a cuckold and thrown away her vows with very little regard… But it's not the same thing. Hot tears spill from her eyes unbidden and she swipes at them angrily. It's not the same, because she told him the truth. He knows she's married. But maybe that's why he was ok with taking a married woman into his bed? It's fine for him to be a cheater if she does? The circumstances are hardly the same. She realises she needs to leave, needs to make herself scarce before he comes looking for her and she doesn't want to hear his pitiful excuses. How could she have been so foolish to just leap into bed with the first person to show her any kindness and affection?

She flees the confines of the outhouse in tears, feeling incredibly naive and gullible. Mother had always referred to her as a "stupid girl" and boy, if only she could see her now. She would be so disappointed.

...

The following few days she feels numb, sits in her room, tells the servants that she feels unwell and doesn't want to see anyone in the case that she's contagious. She can't stop thinking about him. How he'd never actually made her any promises, just seduced her with his flowery words and mischievously twinkling eyes. She'd been a fool for hope and she vows to herself that it will never happen again.

After numbness comes rage, anger. How dare Tinkerbell talk her into this dalliance? She isn't some flighty optimistic teenager. She is under the tutelage of The Dark One and granddaughter of a king in her own right, even before she married. And how dare that man, that common ale-swilling barfly, make her feel for him and then... She'll forget that she ever met him, lock his memory into the furthest recesses of her mind and never think about him again. And she doesn't, she hardens against the world even further, lets the darkness consume her soul, sinks further into a desolation she doubts she can ever fully come back from.

Except she can never completely forget.

Six weeks later, his child makes itself known in her belly. This innocent little spark lightens her darkened soul and makes her feel a modicum of love and happiness, even though she knows it must only be temporary.


AN: Well there we have it, next chapter we might just find out how Her Majesty is faring with a newborn in Leopold's castle.

Big thank you to revolutionsoftheheart for the Beta and support.