1. EQ and Thief (pre curse)

It's cold, rather damp, and incredibly humid. The chill of the darkness prickling his skin, the dig of handcuffs strapping him to the wall flickering spikes of pain up his arms. This hadn't gone as he had planned, obviously, what with being caught and thrown into the Queen's dungeons. But what choice did he have? They had to target the royal wagons, winter was nearly here, and there wasn't enough food to go around, surely the castle could withstand having 6 instead of 7 truckloads of food.

What he didn't bank on was the amount of guards that came out of the woodwork as they were pilfering, thirty black knights against six merry men. They'd been lucky he supposes, he being the only one caught in the end. It's part of the risk – he knows it, probably shouldn't be doing it, but they have to provide somehow for others.

Exhaling heavy, he leans back into the cold stone wall, fidgeting with his bonds. They are easy enough to pick through, and his fingers get to work, muddling and rolling the pin that is always tucked into his wrist band when he hears it. Well not so much an it, but a clinking of footsteps, tall heels if he were to take a guess, his heart stilling at the notion of who is about to visit his cell. It's to dark for him to really see anything, the flickering of a flame torch somewhere down the hallway renders his vision incomplete. Yet he can smell the richness, a royal rose sugar sweet aroma that bursts through the musky dungeon.

It's her silhouette that comes first, slender and curved, dark and ominous in stature. The figure simply stands at the barred gate, long fingers wrapping around to metal, a sparkling of diamonds on her neck flickers against the light. If he tries hard enough, he can see the outline of her jaw, sharp, trailing into dark ruby lips that smirk at him. Her eyes are dark, painted in black lines, framed by the long tendrils that fall on her shoulders…bare shoulders. She shifts, not having said anything, but he can make out the gown that hugs her body. It's dark – a midnight blue he figures, wrapped tight around her neck, freeing her arms of any material, flaring out at her hour glass figured hips.

It's not entirely certain why she is down here, she's the Queen, what need she would have to come down into the pits of her castle is beyond him. But here she is, a long nail tapping lightly against the bars. He's not afraid, not really – has heard tales of this woman, this tyrant that rules with an iron fist. It's only been 3 years since the Kings untimely death, and things have changed in the Enchanted Forest. Maybe for the better, the King hadn't had any real desire to please the common folk, keeping the riches and royals for himself. But the Queen – she was different, had made things different. While it can not be denied she was ruthless, at some times even cruel, the kingdom was prospering under her watch.

He shifts, thumbing the pin that is trapped inside the lock, for a moment he thinks the slight clink is him succeeding, but his bonds remain strong, rather it being the door in front of him that swings slowly open. Her heels click once more against the stone as she enters the cell, the bars swinging shut on their own – he knows she has magic – dark, sinister magic. A bead of sweat trails down the back of his neck as she stalks closer, eyeing him up in the dark expanse. If he wasn't tied up and searching for a way to escape, he'd drown in the sweetness of her smell, it infiltrates him, surrounds him, engulfs him. His eyes close momentarily.

"I'd say I was impressed at your thieving, but it seems the cat caught the mouse"

If her scent was to tug him below the waters, her voice will surely drown him. It's like warm honey that will burn you should you get to close, dark and husky, smooth like silk. His heart skips a beat as his eyes open, seeing the proximity of the Queen. She stands not a foot away, arching a perfectly manicured eyebrow in his direction. The room is ignited in light, by her doing no doubt – glowing flames against the walls illuminate her. He's heard of her beauty – the way men describe in desire, and women spit in jealousy. But they surely have not seen her in the flesh. Have never laid eyes upon the real thing.

She is olive in tone, lightened by tints of reds on the apples of her cheeks, darkened by smoky eyes that brighten whiskey amber eyes. Her skin is smooth, not a trace of a flaw, a beauty mark of a scar on the right top lip which are coated in a ruby red paint. He spies a dark spot on the corner of her temple, two more at the corner of her jaw. The Gods had been kind in her creation, for she is nothing he has ever seen before. A siren. A masterpiece.

The warmth of her breath ghosts across his skin, silently Robin wonders if she can hear the palpitating of his heart as she steps closer, eyeing him up like a predator. "You think it wise -" she growls lowly "stealing from the Queen?". He swallows thickly, feeling the sharp prick of her nail against his neck, pressing into his adam's apple. "I asked you a question, thief".

"I had to" he mumbles, doing his best to keep the strange addiction to her at bay. His mind flares with red flags, she is dangerous, she is deadly, but she is also beautiful, and captivating in a way he has not been before, his body is keenly aware of that fact.

"You realize stealing from me is punishable by death" she hums, the palm of her hand resting heavily over his heart. She could kill him; it would be easy – like any other peasant. Why she hasn't is beyond her. He stole, well his men stole from her, the punishment is simple – he should be hanged along with all the other criminals. She was coming down here to deliver the news, as she always does. Finds it only fair that if she is the one to give the execution, she should be the one to deliver the news to her prisoners. And yet – there is something odd about this man, this outlaw that has her second guessing herself, something she utterly hates to do.

He's strong, she can tell by the broadness of his chest, the thickness in his limbs, would be lying to say his blue eyes caught her off guard, the strength in his jaw… he's handsome, ridiculously so. To a point where she can feel her heart beating a touch faster than usual.

"Give me a reason to not send you to your death"

He can't breathe, not with her lips nearly grazing along his own.

"You're terrible at answering, you know that?" She hums brushing her mouth along the length of his neck. She could keep him - the huntsman is not nearly as exciting as he had once been. Her hands roam his body softly, shifting from their place on his chest, down his ribs, along his waist, back up to his neck.

"On second thought -" she feels something tucked into the breast of his coat pocket "given that you stole from me -" her fingers grasp around the object, pulling it out for her perusal. It's oddly shapen, a soft wood worked animate, could be a lion, not a well made one but it resembles as much "perhaps I should steal something from you"

He stills, staring at the charm in her slender fingers. "Please, I beg of you"

She laughs, darkly with a humour that chills his body "oh you beg of me do you" ; the wooden lion twirling between her fingers. "Well thief - fair is fair, I'll see you at sunrise. Sleep well" - her body backing away scratching one last time across his bare skin "it will be your last"

Robin scrambles, the chains banging on the walls as the Queen disappears in a cloud of purple smoke.

It's late, the pale moon lighting the dark shadow that is her bed chambers. The Queen sits at her vanity, unable to relinquish the small wooden figurine. She'd left the criminal a near hour ago, and yet the lion hasn't left her hands. It's soft, yet roughly cut, it's jagged edges play sharply along her finger tips. Maybe she will keep him - and his trinkets. Musing absently to herself, her eyes return to the mirror, one that drinks in her dark image, reflects the anger, the beauty, the self loathing in her eyes. She hates mirrors. Going to turn around, her eyes catch a dark shadow behind her, looming in the backdrop of her chambers.

Whirling around, a fire ball bursts in her hand, a snarl plastered on her face as she growls "Show yourself"

She waits a beat, panting heavily as the intruder comes into view...the pounding in her heart stops, erratically skips at the presence that treads in. Thief indeed. "First you steal from me, now you creep into my chambers, you must have a death wish" she snickers, extinguishing the fire in her hand. He steps closer, eyes draw darkly together in his heated stare. She watches the deep set breathing in his chest, the tension in his features.

"You're angry with me"

It's not a question, just an amused comment as she rises from her chair.

If the gown she wore before had his blood pumping, the black silk robe loosely tied around her slender hips has him scorching. It's open around her chest, clinging to the matching lace short sleeping gown she dawns, leaving her legs sinfully exposed to his wandering eye. The once drawn back hair, is now falling along her shoulders in waves, a face near void of makeup - and if it's possible, he thinks she is more beautiful like this. The air of danger that surrounds her however doesn't fade, pulses in fact as she walks bare foot towards him.

"Give it back"

She stops, arching an eyebrow at him, "Give what back?"

"The trinket you stole, I want it back"

'I didn't realize you were in the position to be demanding things of me" she chuckles, resuming her slow pace towards him. A line of white teeth bites down on heavy set red lips, his eyes immediately flicking down. It crosses him that he wishes it was his teeth sinking into her, leaving his mark on the olive skin that teases him so. It's a trap, he is certain, for no woman should be able to possess the power over him as she does with nothing but a smirk and light steps.

"I ask you to give it back, and to give me my freedom"

He know's his voice shakes, can feel the unsteadiness in his tone - and apparently so does the Queen who is now a breath away once more. She watches heatedly at the way he swallows, the hard inhale, tightness in his body. Her laugh echoes around the chambers, a breathless almost pure laugh, before her eyes darken, settling deadly on him. "You ask for so much, yet have so little to give"

Hands settling on her hips, she stares, waiting for some idiotic response.

"I have information on Snow White"

Her heart steels, the constant bubbling anger brewing hot at his words. It had been 5 weeks and there was no sighting of that brat.

"Tell me what you know" she growls.

"Give me the lion back and grant me freedom and I will"

"How dare you!"

"You can throw me back in your dungeons if you wish, or we can make a deal -"

"I don't make deals with outlaws"

"Not even for Snow White"

He's bluffing, he has no idea where the girl is - hasn't actually ever laid eyes on her, but if he can convince the Queen long enough then it's possible he can live to see tomorrow. The rage on her face makes him falter, just a second where the sweat that pools on his brow flourishes.

"What do you know?"

"The Lion, Your Majesty"

His hand raised out in receiving. Scoffing she eyes the thief up, "No"

"No?"

"I have grown rather fond of this wooden figurine, I will however grant your freedom, IF, your information is worthy"

Running a hand over his face, he sighs, surely he can steal it back without her noticing, he just needs to distract her…

He moves, one step in front of the other, slowly judging the hesitation on the Queen's behalf.

"Wha-at are you doing?" She stammers, at his sudden close proximity. She can smell him, that god awful forest smell that she is deeming maybe not so awful as he closes the distance, thick warm hands slowly extending out to grip her hips. Licking his lips he looks up and down her body, internally smirking at the slight tremble. They still for a moment, her heart thundering, matching the racing of his own.

She can do this, can take him, have him as her own, and let him die. She is the Great and Terrible Evil Queen afterall.

Digging her nails into his chest, she revels in the groan that parts from his mouth, the heady hard way his hands flex and unflex against her hips. Her lips attach to his throat, nipping at the salty skin below. Whatever the thief is mumbling, comes out incoherent as they stumble, caught of balance by the sudden shift, the long robe she wears sliding seductively along her skin. Pulling back he goes to capture her mouth.

"No" her fingers press to his lips. Robin frowns at the sudden stop in action, but her eyes betray the strength she portrays, and he is stuck - seeing the slight fear behind the desire. "There is one rule I have…" she tugs his lower lip in her fingers "... You may not kiss me".

Well that he wasn't expecting, he is desperate to taste her. "Never my lips"... ahhh okay, so he can technically kiss her, just not where he wants at the moment. He nods slightly, slowly sliding the robe that ties at her waist, revealing the short black lace undergarment of a dress to his eyes.

She need no magic, not when her body could render a man incapable of all thought.

The swell of her breasts, cupped by lace, makes him salivate, the way the silk clings to her body, exposing her legs for his viewing pleasure, it makes the blood rush low, hardening an arousal that is already peaking.

"I am in control, you understand thief?"

He nods, slightly put out he can't simply throw her on the expansive mattress behind and have her writhing beneath him, but if it grants him freedom, he will let her. He would let her anyway in truth, the way his heart beats, it isn't just from arousal...but from something else he can't quite put a finger on.

The robe falls, and she climbs him, wrapping her thighs around his waist, anchoring her body snug against his as she licks a slick path along his neck "take me to my bed". Maybe Robin is going to die - but not from a noose. He carries the Queen, feeling the bare expanse of her backside under his palms, groaning at the fact she wears no undergarments.

The mattress is soft, as he sits down, the Queen straddling his thighs, grinding down on the ever growing erection stuck in his breeches. If he cannot kiss her, he will still bloody well taste her skin. Starting at the crook of her jaw, he nips at the soft skin, peppering down her neck, as his fingers slide off the thin strap on her shoulder, baring a perfectly round rose nippled breast. He palms her, kneading the swell, thumbing across the hard bud as he drinks in the slight hiss that escapes her. The gown is gone before he can utter the request, her magic discarding every inch of their clothing. She is hot, and wet against his cock, sliding slowly up and down his shaft.

"You're mine, you understand that thief? I am going to fuck you, and you will take everything I give" her tongue laps along his cheek, biting hard on his earlobe. Her ass is a sin, a full plump man devouring sin that his hands can't help but squeeze and pull apart. The contrast between the cool air and hot throbbing skin has Regina moaning, grinding down harder onto his erection, soaking him in her arousal. Her hands push against his chest, forcing him to lay beneath her as her folds continue to slip around his cock, his tip bumping her entrance with each pass. He's thick, thicker than she has had, but god she cannot wait to have him inside. Palming his erection she strokes him, smirking at the heavy groan he lets go, the way his eyes roll into the back of his head.

It's somewhat shocking he hasn't tried anything, hasn't made a movement to roll them over, keenly happy to let her have her way as she damn well demanded. Tilting just so, his tip enters her, a fraction that has a small yearning noise escape. And then she sinks, slowly to adjust to his girth that stretches her in the most delicious of ways. Her eyes flutter closed as her clit hits his pelvis, the pulsing of her core wrapping around his entirety. It's perfect, a strangely impossible perfect fit, snug and tight, the thick vein on his cock rubbing against her inner walls.

She is going to fuck the breath out of this man.

With her hands firmly placed on his chest, his on her waist she starts to grind, a slow torturous motion, rolling in circles on his groin. He wants to move, wants to pump up hard into her, fuck her till she can't see straight. But he can't - he is frozen to stare at the look on her face, the slight jaw dropped O of her mouth, cinching of her brow, gripping of her nails into his skin. Whatever she wants, that was the deal.

So he waits, erection throbbing inside her, but he waits, minutes feeling like hours as she slowly rolls above him. Her eyes flicker open, dark as night as they latch onto his, and it feels as though all time is suspended. She wonders if he feels it to, this electric pulse that blooms in her veins. He must, the way he is looking at her, he must feel the exact same thing. It's a feeling she has never felt, not since Daniel, and even then, it's stronger, more binding.

"You're stunning" he manages to choke out, trailing a hand up to her breast to cup it, teasing the hardened nipple between his fingers. The Queen hums in acknowledgment, the pace of her hips picking up as she begins to ride him. She burns, low and deep as his cock fills her with each thrust, that blooming heated coil beginning to rip through her. She is not a vocal lover, not usually, the the way he is hitting that one spot deep inside, well it has her attempting to muffle a string of high pitched screams. Gripping against the headboard she slams back into him, hard and rough, his one hand never leaving her breast as the other trails lower to find her swollen clit. He sets a frantic pace, hard circles on her clit that has the Evil Queen rendered into a babbling mess.

He lifts, enough to lick the bead of sweat that trails between her breasts, his own climax bubbling to the surface as her walls clench around him.

"Suck my nipples"

The command breathless as she grips against the back of his neck, holding him to her chest, a low scream dripping out as he latches onto her, sucking hard against the pebbled peak. She's going to cum, she can feel it, and she damn well knows he can feel it. The way he growls into her skin, nails digging into her ass, pulling her hard up and down onto his aching member. She flutters, hitching in her voice, as she releases, her orgasm enveloping him, milking him till he can't help but spill into her. It's hot and sticky, as she rides him through her pleasure, her legs trembling against his waist as she pulls the last out of both of them before collapsing onto his chest.

He does smell like forest, a sweaty, sex filled forest, but a forest none the less. His heart beat pulses against her chest, thumping a stuttered rhythm to her own. She can feel him twitching inside her still, her walls involuntary contracting slightly. Their eyes meet as she slowly lifts herself from his body.

She is trepidacious, unsure of what to do now. Usually, she'd send off the hunstman, banishing him before she cleaned herself of in a cool tub. But she can't move, can't find it in her to let his softening cock remove itself from her. And for all she can't understand, the outlaw smiles, deep set dimples beaming out as he strokes long thick tendrils of hair from her face.

It's to intimate, far too domestic for her liking, and that is what has her rolling off him, a slight moan and groan parting from their separation. She lays beside him, an arm strewn across her face, as she catches her breath. It's long moments before either of them speak, her gruff husky voice being the first to break.

"Where is Snow White?"

He flinches as he concocts a lie once more … "she was staying with an elderly woman the last I heard, that was 5 days past"

"Where?"

"On the edge of Templeton Village"

She huffs, annoyance running through her "Snow White wouldn't dare take refuge so close to the kingdom"

"I told you what I know" he rolls over to face her, his hand resting on the toned expanse of her abdomen.

"Your information isn't useful"

He waits a breath, trailing his fingers lower on her pelvis.

Her dark eyes travel his face, her tongue sliding out to lick against her lips.

"You'll have to do better than that Outlaw"

His eyes flick up to hers, drilling holes into her heart. What is it with this man that has her stuttering and feeling like a foolish adolescent?". His lips kiss the side of her breast, dotting heated affections till her meets her nipple, sucking lightly as his tongue flickers over the bud.

"I beg of you, let me taste you"

She cocks an eye at him, his wandering fingers swiping gently along her swollen folds. She can still execute him in the morning, mine as well get as much pleasure out of the situation before hand. Her silence is enough, the way her hips arch slightly against his fingers that are now buried deep within her cunt, it's all the answer he needs. Releasing her breast with a pop, he trails a thick salivating line down her stomach, adjusting slightly so he can feast upon her.

And feast he shall.

She bucks as his fingers drag along the sensitive inner skin, hissing angrily at his slow pace to get on with it. But he goes slow, regardless of the breathless demands she gives. He will take his time, kissing her lower lips, dipping lower against the wet slit of her core, darting out quickly to taste what can only be described as the most intoxicating mixture.

"Outlawww"

Her growl and hard set grip in his hair, push him up to her clit, directing him to pleasure him as she wishes. He laps at her, long strokes against her core, sucking hard and quick at her clit. His fingers are still buried inside, rubbing slowly side to side along her g-spot.

"Fuck-hhhhnnnggg, god keep going".

She swears she draws blood as she bites her lower lip, arching into his face. His hands grip her hips, sliding her down lower till she is bent in half, legs bending over his shoulders as he eats her with vigor. Unrelenting and hard he sucks at her, nipping at moments, licking at others, tapping his tongue to her clit as she screams. His arousal builds as he feels her clench on his fingers, a droning beg for him to fuck her harder, to not stop god dammit, to suck her clit. Arching hard, she grinds against him, breathless in the pleasure that begs to escape the tightness in her throat. And she cums, hard on his mouth, soaking his fingers with her arousal. He pumps through it, drawing every last ounce out of her writhing body till her hand pushes his face away. But he stays, kissing her stomach as his fingers remain buried inside, stroking slowly within her swollen walls.

His eyes move up, devouring the way her breasts heave, the jaw dropped open, the beads of sweat along her forehead. She is magnificent, if this is punishment, he vows to commit a crime every hour of the day.

He kisses her folds again, smirking at the tight hiss that melts into his ears.

"Again?"

He nods, licking gently along her lower lips, nipping slightly at her pulsing bud. She bucks, hard, and away from his mouth...to sensitive still...not that it matters. His fingers pump hard, thumping in renewed vigor. His other hand finds her glorious ass, hauling her hips up as he settles back on his knees, as he gloriously finger fucks the Queen beneath him. It's fast, she screams, bucking and hitching within moments as his thumb finds her clit, rubbing furiously till she comes apart once more.

She doesn't ask him to stop, weakly stills his wrist a she falls back into the pillows with a hot needy moan. Her vision is dazed, dotting and sparking behind her closed eyes. Her core clenches as he removes his fingers, deftly aware of the new emptiness.

Robin settles beside her, licking off her cum from his fingers before running his palm along her body. It's oddly natural, to lay like this with her, the Queen. The light hum that parts has him smiling, leaning in once more to kiss the expanse of her sweat ridden collar.

"Maybe I will keep you" she chuckles breathlessly.

The chambers go quiet, save for their heated breath. Taking a moment, she sits up, leaning against the headboard as his palm falls to her thigh. He is different, oddly so. The way his blue crystal eyes find her own, they are soft, warm and almost safe she would relent. Safe is never a thing she has had.

"Its for my village"

"What?"

"It's why we stole the food, the village my mother lives in, they will starve come winter"

She stares at him, frowning at the sadness in his eyes. He's not lying, not like he just did about Snow White.

"I am not proud of the life I live, but it is the only way I can provide for them"

"You know the kingdom would provide …"

"There are thieves worse than I on the roads"

"So thieves, steal from thieves?"

HIs fingers flex along the thigh, lips finding her shoulder in a quick chaste kiss. "They steal from the poor to feed themselves. I steal from the rich and give to the poor"

"What a glamorous life" She chuckles, allowing his lips to continue to venture down her arm. They settle into a strange comforting silence. Its nice, maybe this could be a new reality, she could keep him.. She is the Queen after all.

But would he want to stay...the answer most likely no. No one stays, ever.

"What's wrong?"

She scowls, pulling away from his little grip. "Why do you assume anything is wrong?"

"Because I know you better than you think"

"What makes you think that?'

"Well" the thief muses "I'd be burned to a crisp right now if it weren't remotely true" He smirks, nipping gently at her breasts once more. And she giggles, a quick unbelieving noise that renders them both slightly flushed.

He needs to leave, she can't keep him. He would distract her far too much. She moves to tell him, is ready to banish him...and then she see's it and her heart stops. It's' dark in background, a white figured Lion in the middle...how did she not see it?

She stares, jaw gaping open, her fingers subconsciously moving to trace the tattoo on his forearm. In every dream she had over meeting the man with the lion tattoo, this certainly wasn't the setting. In half they ran away together, lived happily ever after (if there were such a thing), the other half, had her fleeing in fear. She is the Evil Queen after all - no one loves the Evil Queen, no one ever could.

But for all the scenarios that played through her mind, the fact that she was teary eyed and smiling was not a part of it. Her soulmate, a future she ran from, now was settled in her bed. It could be fate, maybe he was here to free her of this unhappy darkness.

"My son made it"

She freezes, moving to catch his eyes in confusion, her hand still gripping his forearm.

"The lion figurine. It's my lucky charm, or so he calls it"

He has a son, most likely a wife, a life he loves. The entire future that just built from a few seconds shatters around her. Inhaling hard, she swallows thickly, the purple smoke of her magic swirling in her palm, revealing the wooden creation in her hand.

"It's beautiful" she smiles.

Robin stares at the Queen, long and deep, his heart pumping at the fearful sadness in her face. He wants to comfort her, soothe the sudden pain that infiltrates her beautiful features.

"My wife died last year"

He doesn't know why he said it, but it's out there.

"I'm sorry"

He nods, kissing her shoulder quickly before settling against the headboard beside her. She shifts slightly, just enough to flicker over his face, and his eyes are steadily trained on her own. It's ridiculous, but she wishes to kiss him...wants him to kiss her. She wants to take his pain away, soothe this soul that so obviously is broken.

Since when?

It's been years since she has cared for anyone's happiness but her own. But it's his eyes that catch her. And Regina does what she hasn't done in years. She kisses him. Cupping his stubbled cheek, languidly moving her lips over his, drinking in the ale and mint taste of his mouth. If her eyes had been open she would have seen it. Granted she felt it, the buzzing heat that encapsulated them as he kissed her back. It buzzed and tingled, wrapping her entire body in a warmth she'd never felt. And again, if her eyes had been open she would have seen the golden thread that bloomed from them. The magic that slowly sunk into the border of his tattoo, lining it in a slight gold.

She parted, dazed with a sad smile.

"Go home Robin Hood"

He stammers, unsure of what caused the sudden change, but beyond thankful to the gods it did happen...the kiss he means. Not the fact she wishes him to leave. He doesn't want to, can't find it in him to move away from her perfect mouth. So he kisses her again, holding the nape of her neck to him, refusing to let go till the need to breathe is overwhelming.

They lock eyes, something filled with more than either would ever admit.

"You are free to go"

Her magic swirls around them, covering their respective bodies in their clothing once more. And she walks away, running her hands through long tangled locks, avoiding his eyes.

"Your Majesty"

"I grant you, your freedom. Now leave before I change my mind"

Her heart begs him to stay, betraying her own mind. Robin stills, watching the way her walls build up high once more. She holds something of his, and it is not a wooden figurine. He walks up behind her, soaking in the last remnants of her slight hum, the rose sugar of her hair, and his lips find her temple as he whispers a soft "thank you", though he is reluctant to leave.

"Be happy Robin of Locksley" she smiles, turning in his hands, kissing him one last time before flicking her wrist, sending him back deep into the forest, leaving her chambers as empty as ever.

She found her soulmate, once again. Yet this time, she didn't run, she simply let him go – for who could ever love an Evil Queen.