Written randomly.


What freedom is

- Set in 2.02, AU where Regina refuses Rumple's offering about magic and runs. She has thrown Cora across the mirror and she's not married.

The wind runs and chases her, she's shamefully happy, as her horse devours miles and miles. She is on the run. From the King, from the little brat, she's free. Trees slide at her sides; she savors the green mesmerizing scent of her freedom. Fly, little birdie, she hears the imp whisper; her magic twirls inside of her.

She urges her horse, faster, please, free and dirty, and guilty, and dark, and weak, and –

She reaches a tavern, not far enough, keeps stealing glances behind her shoulder, never at ease. The king's men enter and she fears, this is treason. She was his property, his toy, his whore. But they're not here for her, they're drunk, she throws a golden coin and goes away, further, please.

Another realm, one day has passed, her arm is bleeding, she stops again. Not far enough.

The woman's hands are gentle around her skin, the soup comforting, she wishes to stop, she can't. He's searching for her. Posters with her name have reached that land, there is not her face.

She never speaks, she tries to be a shadow. Greedy hands reach her one night, her darkness roars from her core – she wants to tear this man apart, to watch his limbs bleed, to hear his cries – she shakes her head, heart beating fast, his hand on her waist, she has to destroy him, how dare he, he wants to take what is hers to give –

His mouth tastes of alcohol, and she feels little and weak, she could stop this, if you let me show you how, the imp chants. She could stop this, she doesn't want to become like her, a monster, a disease, she lets him push her against the wall, muffled sounds of revulsion her only reaction, she really tries, but –

The fire escapes from her control, he releases a strangled noise of pain and pushes her aside, holding his arm. She looks at him, and the world spins all of a sudden – her skin burns from the slap on her cheek, and she's on the ground. Filthy whore, he spits, he swears, and she feels dirty, and scared – she didn't want to burn him – she wanted to burn him alive – she didn't want to – she's dark, she's out of control, it's just, she was really angry

"Are you alright?"

She looks up – angry, kind blue eyes are staring at her, and she barely has time to nod before the man turns and punches her suitor in his throat, and now he's on the ground too, holding his arm and his jaw, rambling curses, and she closes her eyes, expecting her punishment – but the hand on her shoulder is a gentle touch, and again, blue eyes.

"Milady?"

She's staring at him, and she thinks he's treating her as if she were a wounded animal – broken, scared, weak

"Are you alright?" he repeats. "Let's put something on that cheek, shall we?"

She nods weakly, lets him pull her up, one last glace at the man on the ground – she follows blue eyes around the corner, where he steals a piece of cloth and a cube of ice, presses it on her face – and she lets him, still frightened she could accidentally hurt someone, she's a monster – like Mother

"Better?"

She nods again, eyes blurry, beginning to take in the shock – what she said to the imp was true, she loved it, the magic, the revenge

His blue eyes won't leave her for a moment. "What did you do to him?"

She holds her breath, lowers her gaze, casually noticing the crest tattooed on his arm. "Nothing," she whispers, and she's so terribly afraid of herself, is this how freedom looks like?

He doesn't reply, but nears two glasses and a bottle. Pours amber liquid, "Looks like you could use a drink, for starters," and she knocks it down, then regrets it – what if this makes me go out of control again – but he has a strange look.

"My mother had magic too," he says, like it's nothing, just some random information.

She stiffens, "I… I haven't –"

"There's nothing wrong with magic, milady," he tells her, and she focuses on his voice instead of the refrains in her head – Foolish girlLove is weaknessSo kind, so gentle, so powerfulYou're going to be queenI'll be good, MotherPlease

"There is," she spits out.

"No," he affirms. "That depends on how you use it – and frankly, you had all the reasons,"

"I didn't want to," she confesses. "And I did"

"Understandable," he has a glimmer in his eyes, like he's… proud? He's not scared? But she's a monster

She lowers her eyes again, not sure of what's coming next. And he's offering his hand, and she looks up, blue eyes, you're weak, foolish girl

"I'm Robin," he smiles, and she lifts the corner of her lips, attempts to smile back –

"Regina".