A/N: Alright, I know what you're thinking (okay, I know what I'm thinking). "Another GoT/OUAT crossover in less than a month? What about Emma Snow?" Well I will be the first to say Emma Snow Chapter 2 is still in the planning stage, and I should not have written this all Saturday. My other WIPs were aghast at such neglect. But in my defense, I could not resist - and hey, I finished it!

Before Emma Snow, my go-to GoT/OUAT crossover concept was Emma and Belle accidentally getting sucked into a bean portal during a battle with the latest Big Bad and ending up in Westeros (Emma thought of GOT since she'd been marathoning it recently), and the others find a way to come after them. Originally my ship for that was Sandor and Belle, for obvious BatB reasons, but after throwing in the concept of Arya asking Regina for magic lessons, the Sandor/Regina ship began to grow on me. So now, naturally, I need to drag others into it!

(Disclaimer: I was inspired by Angelica R's "Un et un font…" so I used that format here.) (Also, let me know if I need to up the rating!)

Enjoy!

The Evil Queen and the Hound

Angst

She's still in mourning when she joins the Storybrooke brigade and goes after Emma and Belle to Westeros. The best she can do is what she has always done - disguise her heartbreak as cold hard anger and vitriol. This "Hound" character gets the brunt of it when he speaks crassly of the possibility of having to cut down an undead loved one as they're coming right at you. Regina pictures Robin Hood, eyes bluer than usual, leaving her no choice - pictures ending him as she did Daniel - and she storms off to be by herself.

But UGH! Why won't that damn dog leave her alone?!

AU

"So. You're... the Hound. King George's deadliest killer."

"You didn't call me here to tell me what I am. Tell me who you want butchered."

"Straight to the point! I like that." Regina smiles, taps her sugar spoon against her tea cup. "You've killed women before. Little girls."

"Aye?"

"Without remorse. Without hesitation."

"What should I hesitate for? Killing is the sweetest thing there is."

"Just checking. The last hunter I sent after this target was spineless and let her get away."

The Hound scoffs. "Sounds like a fucking twat."

"Indeed." Regina abandons her tea and sidles up to this hulking brute of a man, looking past his scars into his deep brown eyes. "Her name is Snow White," she tells him. "Find her for me, and bring me back her heart."

Crack! Fic

"I don't know what a fucking episode is and I don't care if it's musical," Sandor roars. "I'm not going to fucking sing!"

"Neither am I!" Regina says, crossing her arms as she stands next to him. She glares at Isaac. "What is that - what is that you're writing?"

The Author smirks as he scribbles onto the page, proclaiming aloud, "'And with that, the Hound and the Evil Queen burst into an impassioned lovers' duet...'"

"NO!"

Crossover

A smile, faint but full of intrigue, tugs at Regina's lips as she approaches the Hound.

"You saved my son," she says, in almost soft accusation.

He scoffs it away, keeps his face perfectly still. "The girl never would've shut up about it if I hadn't."

Her smile widens. However true that may be, given both Arya's fondness for Henry and her stubborn nature, it only clarifies something for her. "Oh, so you are a softie, but just for girls."

"Careful, woman."

"Manners, mutt!"

Meanwhile, Arya's smirking as she watches the two of them, because in all her magic lessons since the people of Storybrooke came to Westeros, this may be the most miraculous thing Regina has ever shown her.

First Time

"Has Clegane ever been in love before?" Henry asks Varys (while not taking his eyes off the couple), because his grandmother isn't the only one who has little birds to tell her things.

"I don't believe so, young prince," Varys replies, quietly amazed as well as he spies the Hound chortling with great laughter at one of Regina's clever quips.

Tyrion quirks his mouth, very much tickled at the concept. "Well, I suppose there's a first time for everything," he says grandly.

Fluff

It takes all the self-restraint Henry has not to giggle when Sandor joins them for dinner at Mom's house. He's brought his Westeros eating habits to Storybrooke, but at least it's clear he's an avid fan of Regina's lasagna.

She catches Henry's smirk and gives him a stern look, then delivers a subtle lesson in dining etiquette that reminds Henry pretty strongly of that one scene in Beauty and the Beast.

As the Hound begrudgingly imitates Regina and masters the skill of utensil use (with great mouthfuls regardless), Henry turns his mug thoughtfully in his hands.

If Mom is Belle in this adaptation, does this mean he's Chip?

Humor

Sandor glances around at all the Storybrooke citizens, then shoots Regina a deadpan stare.

"You're telling me that Henry is your son, and his grandmother is your stepdaughter," he says slowly, "who killed his other grandmother, your mother, for killing her mother, his great-grandmother. And he had a third grandmother, whose former lover is now fucking Emma, his other mother. And also your half-sister, his aunt, killed his father."

Regina twists her lips a little. "Yes, I suppose that's all true..."

"You're worse than the fucking Lannisters!"

Hurt/Comfort

Her fingers graze over his cheek, tracing the grooves of the scars, and he flinches at first but leans into the warmth of her palm. It amazes her that he'd let her touch him like this. Their relationship is so different from when they first met.

("Call me that again," she'd warned, brandishing a fireball, "and the other half of your face... gets toasted.")

Now she is not so callous about his burns, inflicted upon him by his barbaric brother. Her scars are hidden inside her heart, but she's already told him about Daniel. About Robin too. Robin's death isn't as easy to explain, but Sandor understands when she tells him her mother literally ripped out Daniel's heart and crushed it right in front of her. Probably sounds like something the Mountain would do.

She knows what it's like to harden with anger from her wounds. Knows what it's like to be viewed as a monster.

"I've killed people," he slurs to her, as they share drinks in the tavern one night. "Men, women, children. More people than you can imagine."

Regina smiles grimly. "Try me," she says, and sips her wine.

Family

When Arya first starts going to Regina for magic lessons, Sandor's less than thrilled about it. Figures, there's another queen in Winterfell who has the power to conjure fire when she pleases, and she's teaching his girl how to do it too. He's already having a tough time as it is, coming to grips with his protective fatherly feelings towards Arya Stark; he doesn't need another reason to be scared shitless of her and for her.

He confronts the witch about it but she flashes her pearly whites at him in a vicious smile and refuses to back off, so he makes a point of hovering during each lesson and making his comments here and there. When Arya conjures her first fireball, he is the one who dodges it.

"Seven hells!" Sandor shouts, his eyes wide. Arya looks at her hand in awe, then up at him and Regina, as fiendish delight explodes across her face.

"You did it..." Regina says, beaming. She and Sandor share a look, and suddenly his terror gives way to pride.

The cold little Stark bitch has mastered fire, he realizes, watching her excitedly call to Henry as he's passing by. There's no fucking with her now.

So sparks an unexpected bond. He warms to Regina and her growing motherly affection for Arya. She seems to appreciate the way he's learned to tolerate Henry (bloody pint-sized Jon Snow that he is, with a stubbornness like a Stark). They tell each other stories of their families over ale and wine, stories to drink over. Burned faces, slaughtered fiancés, impregnated lying sisters.

And persistent little children who have wormed their way into their dark and wretched hearts.

Love

To the horror of the Hound, Regina reaches into her chest, and with a sharp breath of pain she rips out her own heart. It pulses in her palm, a magical crimson with a storm of black inside, like a beautiful red-hot glowing coal. Taking his large, beefy hand in hers, she opens it up and places her heart in the center. He startles as if expecting it to burn him, but she presses his fingers carefully over it.

"You know what you're doing? Literally holding my heart in your hand," she says matter-of-factly. (He looks down at it in disbelief, then raises baffled eyes to her.) "You could kill me right now, with one simple squeeze. You could crush my heart into dust. I know you could do it."

"Then why give it to me?" Sandor demands.

"Because I know you won't," she tells him, her tone firm but to the brim with emotion. "Because I trust you with it. Because I knew you'd do exactly what you're doing now. Protecting it, as strongly and as fiercely as you've protected Arya."

He glances down again and it's just as she's said. His fingers encase her heart, not in a vice grip but in the steadfast reverence of a former sworn shield.

"Well the damn thing shouldn't be beating outside your bloody chest," he harrumphs, looking into her eyes. "How do I put it back in?"

She takes his hand once more and guides it to her chest, then gently encourages him by applying a little pressure. He figures it out and pushes down, and she draws in a ragged gasp of air. Then she exhales a laugh of relief and meets his eyes with a smile.

"I can protect it just fine while it's still in there," Sandor mutters, and he lunges and captures her mouth with a purpose, cradling the back of her head at first before engulfing her in a powerful embrace.

Regina returns the kiss gladly, sinking into his arms. Her heart has never felt safer.