The little green fairy fluttered in through the window. Regina caught sight of her from where she sat in bed and watched as she grew to human-sized. Tinkerbell sat down on the edge of the bed and smiled at the young Queen.
"Well? How did it go?"
Regina's face flushed. She smiled in spite of herself as she thought about the man in the tavern who she had come so close to running away from.
"It was …" she let her voice trail off. What was it? What words could describe it that wouldn't sound like some awful cliché?
"Oh, you're glowing!" Tinkerbell exclaimed. "I knew it! You can find love again! Regina, this is wonderful, you're going to be so happy! When are you meeting him again?"
Regina laughed at the fairy's excitement.
"Soon, I think," she said. "He has something he has to do, but we're going to meet back at the tavern a few days from now."
Tinkerbell hugged her. Regina felt herself go awkwardly still, arms hanging limply at her sides before she realized she should probably hug back. She didn't quite know how to react; it had been so long since she had had a friend. Not that Tinkerbell was a friend, of course, she told herself. But still, she wasn't used to this kind of affection.
"What about you?" Regina asked when Tinkerbell finally broke off the hug. "You stole that pixie dust for me. Are you going to be okay?"
The fairy shrugged.
"I did it to help you, and it worked. Blue will have to see that. Don't worry about me."
Her smile wavered nervously, and Regina knew Tinkerbell must be worried. One didn't disobey the Blue Fairy lightly. But Tinkerbell had made her own choice to steal that dust, and what was the worst that could really happen? So Regina just wished her good luck and watched her fly off into the night.
Robin snuck into the castle, a wooden birdcage in his hand. Getting the key would be easy enough; true to her word, Regina must have slipped the guards something, because they were asleep on duty and the King's chambers were unlocked. His eyes darted around the room, full of gold and luxury. But now wasn't the time to steal whatever caught his eye. If he was to save Little John, he needed to focus on the mission.
Three keys hung above the King's bed: one that matched the silver lock on a large trunk sitting nearby, one rusty iron key that seemed entirely out of place amid the surrounding luxury, and one that was small and delicate, crafted of pure gold with a swirling pattern on the handle. He took it down from the wall where it hung and closed his fist around it. Then, turning his back on the surrounding riches, he left and closed the door carefully behind him. The subtler he could be, the better.
With the light tread of an experienced thief, he made his way through the castle, darting away into the shadows at the sound of approaching footsteps. At one point, he was almost spotted by a man in a guard's uniform, but he hid himself behind a column until the other man shook his head and turned away.
There, up ahead, stood the King's aviary. A hundred caged songbirds peered at him from behind golden bars, and as he looked back at them, he felt a strange sort of sadness. What right did the King have to claim these creatures' freedom for his own pleasure? But he couldn't be distracted. He was here to save Little John, not to pity these caged birds.
He turned his attention to the large golden birdcage suspended in the center of the room. The bird inside was like nothing he had ever seen before, a living creature made of solid gold. Robin picked up a feather that had fallen to the ground and turned it over in his hand, astonished at what he saw. But when he looked back at the bird, he saw that it wasn't pure gold at all. He could only guess at what its insides were made of, but its eyes were those of a living creature, and its beak must have been something more durable than soft, pliable gold. Still, no wonder Midas wanted it! Who wouldn't? It must be the King's most prized possession, Robin thought, aside from possibly his crown. Well, not for long.
But as soon as Robin lifted the key, he realized something was wrong. It was too small, the lock too big, and when he tried to fit it into the keyhole, it simply slipped out.
"Damn it," he said in a harsh whisper. There must have been a trick. Perhaps Regina … no, surely she wouldn't have betrayed him. There must be another explanation.
The precious golden key sat uselessly in the palm of his hand. Robin threw it to the floor in anger and let the handle of the wooden cage slip from his hand. As it hit the ground, the sound of breaking wood echoed through the silence. Around him, a few of the other birds started chirping. They weren't loud, but when you're trying to stay hidden, any noise was too much.
Desperately, Robin looked from the broken wooden cage and useless key to the golden bird, staring back at him with its beady little eyes. Oh, screw it. Acting quickly before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed the birdcage and lifted it down from the golden hook it was hanging from. There was no blast of magic, no lightning striking him down. For a moment, he grinned, thinking he had gotten away with it.
He tried to take a step and realized his feet were rooted in place. The cage stuck to his hands as if it was glued to him. All around him, the birds started chirping out the most earsplitting cacophony of noise he had ever heard. It was only a matter of time before the King's guards arrived. As for the golden bird itself, it sat quietly inside the cage, looking back at Robin with eyes that said, you idiot, you should have known better.
