Second entry for Friday of Angst Week: Prompt 23. I can't just sit by and watch you suffer and 9. Why did you spare me?
Robin's usually a tad more careful on a heist as tricky as this one, though getting twisted and tangled in the velvet material of a ridiculously large curtain is hardly a hazard he would have thought possible. It was supposed to be a quick job, in and out swiftly while the King had retreated to his summer home for a while. Yet, here he is, sitting uncomfortably on the dirty floor of a dungeon, entirely empty handed and replaying the borderline embarrassing moment he was caught and dragged down here.
He made several attempts to free himself from the tight cell, but even if he were to pick the lock, the guard parked right by the exit would be near impossible to pass. Little John is just going to have to come up with a plan, and quickly - Robin hasn't a clue how his crime is going to be dealt with and doesn't care much to find out the hard way.
Though, his release might actually be easier than he anticipated.
"It's your lucky day, thief," the guard scowls at him, unlocking the cell door and creaking it open. "The Queen wishes to speak with you before your release."
"My release?" He pushes from the dirt floor, shaking off any mud that has clung to him.
"We are as surprised as you," the guard scoffs, standing off to the side to allow him to step free. "This way."
He's guided through large hallways, the eyes of many guards glaring at him until reaching a tall, closed door, and he's told that the Queen will meet him inside. He's alone then, face to face with the door, and he considers making a run for it, but there's a curiosity bubbling down in his gut that has him pushing on the heavy door to a large dining room.
He's confused, undoubtedly. Even more so when he wanders to the end of the long, grand dining table where the collection of treasures he'd tried to nab earlier are laid out carefully, plus so much more that he never would have been able to get his hands on. The napsack he'd brought with him is strewn across the back of the chair closest to the door, and his bow is carefully settled against the back cushion.
"I hear your escape plans may need some tweaking."
The soft, timid voice comes from his right as she makes her presence known; she's stunning, in every way. He'd heard many a story of the King's new wife, their new queen, but he never would have expected it to be anyone quite like this; if this is what regality looks like now, perhaps there will be far less injustice in the world.
She steps away from the fireplace and to the other side of the table, brushing her hands over her simple white dress, barely making eye contact with him. "You're free to take it all…"
He furrows his brow. He's been face to face with numerous people he has attempted to steal from, but this is entirely new. "You wish for me to steal your treasures?"
"It's hardly stealing if I'm giving them to you," she says softly, picking up a red jewelled ring from the table before sighing at it and tossing it back to the table.
He's waiting for the trick, for the catch. There's no way this isn't a bit of a twisted game to lure him into a damned fate. "What about the King when he realises his possessions are missing?"
"I would be surprised if my husband realised at all," she replies bleakly, her shoulders slumping at the address of the king. "I imagine the profit will benefit you far more than the boxes they have sat in for decades."
Robin looks back to the collection on the table, mostly taking notice of the additional items that have been tossed in with his original haul, most notably the gorgeous crown encrusted with enough jewels to put the starry night sky to shame. Robin picks it up gingerly, thumbing over the bumps and grooves of the excellent craftsmanship; he can't imagine that her crown would go unnoticed. She crosses her arms gently, tightening them into her chest, as he asks curiously, "Surely this will be missed?"
"Believe me," she scoffs breathily. "You'd be doing me a favour by taking that with you."
She finally graces him with direct eye contact, and suddenly there's a weight on his heart. There's a pain lingering in the deep brown of her eyes, one that he can't quite pinpoint, and it isn't doing much to alleviate the oddly aggressive need for him to understand this beautiful woman that has washed over his soul almost immediately.
He gently places the crown back on the table and circles around to the other side of the table slowly, trying his best not to alarm her as he stands toe to toe with her and looks down upon her short frame. Now that he's closer, he can see the pain more clearly - the desperation in her eyes. "You're not like the others…"
He's made her nervous, and she bows her head as she asks, "Because I'm not decked out in jewels?"
He shakes his head, "You have sad eyes."
She narrows those eyes at him pointedly, the first time he's seen even a smidge of another corner of her personality. "You know, I didn't call for your release so you could insult me."
"Why did you spare me?" She steps away from him, huffing out an annoyed breath and wanders back to where he was stood before. She picks up his sack and starts to transfer everything from the table inside, ignoring his question entirely. "You don't belong here, do you?"
"Of course I do," she stresses with the deepest sigh, still piling his bag full. "There's nowhere else in the world I belong."
"Pardon my disagreeing, but how could you possibly know that?" he asks. "Have you been everywhere in the world?" She stops her efforts then, just in time to catch a glimpse of his shoulder shrug. "If not, how can you know you don't belong there? There's a lot of world out there to see."
"My world ends at the walls of this castle," she mutters sadly, pulling the tassels of his bag to close it tightly, and pushes the heavy thing to his side of the table. Her words crack his heart quite drastically and it must be written all over his face. "Please don't pity me," she frowns, nodding at the packed bag. "You're free to go."
He doesn't pick up his bag right away, but her soft, pleading please go urges him to do just that. She's very clearly here against her wishes, and the last thing he needs to be doing is overstaying his welcome. He takes the heavy bag and his bow and wanders over to the door. He turns back, eager for one more glimpse of her. She's collapsed down into one of the chairs, fidgeting with her fingers atop the table.
She looks so hopeless, and he can't leave her in that state.
Walking back to her, she drops her head back to the chair with a short laugh and whines, "I didn't realise freeing a prisoner would come with so much trouble." She turns her head to him. "Do you miss the dungeon that much?"
He smirks slightly, his interest in this fire she's slowly losing the ability to conceal from him growing. "I wonder if I can bother you for one more thing?" He's peaked her curiosity, and she asks him what else he could possibly want from her. "I don't suppose this place has a good view of the forest?"
"You want to see the view?" she asks through a window of confusion, and he nods.
"I would very much like to," he tells her, "and I'd enjoy for you to join me."
Standing from the chair, she peers over at him, filled to the brim with amusement, and he can tell that he's captured just enough of her interest to guarantee her company.
"Your Majesty," he mutters, stepping aside to allow her the chance to walk onto the balcony first, and he can't help but notice how she grimaces at the title.
"I prefer Regina," she tells him, walking passed him onto the balcony, but not far enough to reach the railing. "And, I uh…" she points diffidently towards the sturdy, stone wall edged around the balcony. "I don't do heights."
"You're scared of heights?" he asks, walking straight for the ledge and jumping up confidently to sit and balance on the edge. She gasps as he makes the leap, and it's hard for him to stifle the laughter.
"I'm not scared," she says sharply despite not moving a muscle. "I'm just not an idiot."
He chuckles, swinging one of his legs over the wall so he's straddling it and gazes out at the expanse of the Enchanted Forest. It's decorated in the moonlight shining down from the pitch black night sky that has washed over to mark the end of the day.
"Come here," he reaches his hand out to her, promising, "you'll be safe," as she considers it slightly. Her steps are extremely tentative, but she does edge closer and closer to the edge, gripping her hands on the edge as she stares out at the forest with him. He points out into the far distance, "Do you see those tall trees, just off the river there?"
She follows his pointed finger and nods, "Mhmm…"
"That's where I come from," he tells her before pointing over into the other side of the river. "And over there, there's an Inn that makes some of the best stew you will ever have in your life." She's smiling as he excitedly points out some of his favourite spots, albeit most of them being taverns. "You really can see the whole world from up here…"
"I guess I never really noticed," she says wistfully, still gazing out as she whispers, "Why did you bring me here?"
He wonders if she realises that he hasn't been able to take his eyes from her for a while, long enough for him to memorise the curve of her jaw and for the mystery behind that soft scar on her lip to grow. "No one's world is confined inside stone walls," he says thoroughly. "It didn't feel right for me to walk free from this castle when it's clear that you are the true prisoner here." Her breath hitches, he hears it get caught in the back of her throat. "The entire world is out there waiting for you."
She doesn't answer him, doesn't even really acknowledge his words at all, but he respects that fully. He's only seen the surface of her life really, and he's already made quite the boisterous assumption. He should absolutely leave her be now, even if it's against everything his gut is telling him to do, but he feels like he's at least shown her there's so much more out there for her, even if it's something as simple as Granny's stew.
He hops down from where he was sitting and picks up his belongings by the entrance to the balcony, but her voice draws his attention back to where she's leaning against the wall.
"Robin?"
He's taken aback, grinning when he asks, "So you do know who I am?"
Her smile is subtle, and she nods, "Who doesn't know the infamous Robin Hood?"
He laughs a little before she softly thanks him, and he can't believe she'd utter such a thing when in reality, he should be the one thanking her.
He bobs on his boots as he considers the impossible, and in a moment of no restraint, calls over, "Come with me," to her before making the few steps back out onto the balcony.
Her shoulders melt down as she slumps against the wall, "I'm afraid I can't. Unfortunately, I am the one possession my husband will notice is missing."
"You are not a possession," he says firmly, and she seems shocked to hear someone say it.
"Fate and my mother seemed to think otherwise."
"I can't just leave you here," Robin shakes his head. He's been in her presence for such a short time, but still, his heart is beating faster and faster, eager to free her from all the things that plague her gorgeous soul. "I can't when I know that you are stuck here and suffering."
"You don't have a choice," she frowns. "And you really should be going. The guards are already whispering about me letting you go free."
"Regina-"
"Go," she urges, smiling dismally with tight lips. "And next time don't get caught in any curtains."
He mirrors her joyless smile. "Will you be alright?"
Her nod is unconvincing, but she says, "I think so. At least now I have something to occupy myself with."
"What's that?" he asks.
Her gentle smile is a bit more genuine as she tells him, "Gazing down from the top of the world."
She waves slightly before turning back to look down at the world below, leaving him to make a mistake-free escape with everything he had hoped to flee with and more. But he's leaving without the one treasure he'd never expected to desire, and it will forever haunt him that he might never see those eyes ever again.