for the OQ prompt party, sunday. a beauty and the beast-inspired au.
prompts:
Regina has scars from surviving a fire and thinks nobody can love her, Robin proves her wrong. (4)
Regina accidentally hurts Robin with her magic. (163)
Certain As The Sun
.
The legends surrounding the Queen's castle are many – long, and ancient stories, made to make children tremble. The castle has been dubbed the Black Fortress since quite some time, and not even the most courageous of men would dare to venture inside. Snow White and her Price are ruling justly on all the lands. The Evil Queen, banished years ago, without her magic, is a legend herself. Even more fascinating than the castle itself.
The walls are surrounded by layers and layers of thorns, bushes, a jungle of angry natural obstacles. You could lose yourself in that labyrinth, they told him. The Queen is probably dead. There has been a curse, thrown by Snow White in person, the thorns have grown so fast there was no one in the realm who dared to see if…
And the fire – it was an unforgettable moment for all who witnessed it, the fire that has devoured walls and towers of the Black Castle and changed its shape into ruins and crumbling stone. There is no way that she survived. She died under that disaster, she lost her magic and perished to death, she's been forgotten, erased, we don't talk of her anymore.
Except it's only been fifteen years since the Queen met her end. Fifteen years of Snow's kingdom, and Robin still hasn't forgotten. He noticed, though. That the people he knows started speaking of the Queen as of something far away in time… hundreds of years ago… but it can't be. The problem is that he's never stopped thinking of her. Just fleeting thoughts, just a bit, every couple of months, but people have started to loosen and breathe under Snow's rule, and they've forgotten her.
He hasn't.
The Queen's castle is said to be impenetrable, but Robin knows better. He has a ridiculous, tremendous amount of faith in his own abilities as a thief.
And one day – when his son is a boy of twenty and his wife's death anniversary has passed… he thinks he could brush up those thieving abilities he hasn't used in a very long time, and go take a peek to the Queen's castle.
.
He doesn't even try with the thorns. They are impenetrable, after all. No, Robin will use the secret passage – that he knows of, every castle has a secret passage. He leaves after sundown, one day, the snow has just started to fall. The summer has ended with a glow and the Black Castle is in the northern region, and still-crisp autumn roses are covered by the thinnest layer of the white dust.
He plucks a rose, because he can. Who's there to stop him anyway?
The road to the secret passage is quite easy, and then – magic. He acquired a potion from an old magician. It gives him three wishes, and the first one is to lift the enormous stone lying just above the trapdoor to the passage. It's so easy he begins to suspect… that maybe there still is someone in the castle, may be the queen, may be not, because this passage has definitely been used recently.
He goes, anyway, descends the stairs slowly. He knows the way, the traps are easily imaginable, because this isn't the first castle which has fallen to his skills. Robin almost starts whistling, as he goes down and then up again, through deserted corridors that have not seen rubble in years, by the looks of it. The flames of the torches are all lit, and he seriously starts to worry. He'd expected to find a wall of debris somewhere, of not being able to go ahead, and instead he's going as smoothly as…
Someone used this path very recently.
He readies his bow… and keeps going, up to the stairs, from the prison cells and servant corridors – he wants the throne room, and won't stop until he has reached the Queen's chambers. The throne room was said to be half destroyed – the throne untouched but mountains of crumbled walls, and burnt wood.
When he emerges the stairs, he's not at all prepared to the scene he meets.
It's… perfect.
It's all dark – not a single flame here, but it's all clean and not a single spider web, either. He feels the tingling on his skin, his grandmother was a witch, so he must have some dormant magic in his veins.
Magic.
The room – the castle – is cloaked with magic, an enormous – complicated – spell, that makes it look like it's in ruins from the outside, but he has clearly passed the magic barrier now.
And it's… it's beautiful.
Robin smiles, strolling around the room, lowers his bow as he takes in the throne room. There's a window of stained glass, as large as the wall, and a floor that could host a thousand dancers. He almost hears the music – even in the dulled light of the moon, with the snow swirling outside the castle, he's able to imagine…
"Who are you?"
The voice startles him. The bow, that he was keeping low, goes up in a matter of seconds. He turns towards the throne, lost in the shadow, the voice now silent.
"Show yourself," he asks, his voice steady.
He hears steps – heeled steps, he thinks, before seeing a black cape emerge into the light. The person underneath is still hidden, a large hood covering of velvet their face. Robin waits, the arrow ready, his fingertips pulsing of adrenaline as the figure steps further out of the shadow. He sees pale hands lifting, her fingers curling around the hood, and she pushes it down slowly.
It's the Queen.
He knows it's her.
But… she looks… different. Her face is covered with a mask – black porcelain covering her left cheek, a half of her forehead, her chin, and half her other cheek. He can see both her eyes, and her lips – but the mask is… almost glued to her face, and he knows for certain that this mask is a novelty, because she has never worn one during her kingdom. Atop her head lies a thin silver crown, just a filament of silver with a little diamond at the middle.
The Queen is staring at him, and he realizes that all his surprise has lasted less than a second.
"You're a thief," she says, sounding bewildered. "You stole something of mine." He knows he must look lost, as she motions down. "The rose."
Robin looks down as well, seeing the evidence, which rests now tied to his belt. "I'm sorry."
To his immense surprise, she shrugs. "By all means. There's nothing to steal here. Just an old lady and her sorrow."
He sees that she's about to turn, to go back to the shadows, and he – he doesn't know what possessed him, but he lowers the bow again, extends a hand. "Wait."
She turns, looks surprised.
"You are… you are the Queen."
"So it seems, yes."
"And you… you're not dead."
"No," she repeats, softly. "I'm not dead." She keeps looking at him, as if she were curious of something he can't quite pinpoint yet. "You are not afraid of me."
It's… it looks like she's studying him somehow. So he shakes his head, tells her, honestly, "I don't see a reason to be afraid."
The Queen tilts her head, and he sees her eyes glinting even though there's the mask, she may be smiling if he can dare to say so. "And what do you see in me?"
"A mystery to be uncovered, maybe," he tempts. "I see sadness. I see questions that I have, for example how you stayed alive all these years, who's been using the secret passages, and what are you going to want from me, in reparation for me stealing your rose. But above all…" he takes a step towards her, and to his relief, she doesn't cower. "I see someone who intrigues me to no end, milady."
She looks at him for a long moment, the Queen. Robin waits – he hopes he hasn't scared her off, he knows she won't hurt him, but still.
"Alright, thief," she says, in the end. "I'm giving you a choice. I won't forgive you for stealing my rose. So to make me forgive you… I'm giving you a choice."
He feels an hint of danger in her voice now, like a sharp end, long forgotten, a tool she hasn't used in a long time. "You can either get thrown in my dungeons. You can walk away, be free, but I'll take memories from you – and you won't know which ones, so I could take the memories of who you love most, for example." She pauses, and he thinks of Roland and Marian, and immediately decides that he won't.
She is staring at him, her fingers curling slightly. "You can burn. Here and now. Or… you have one last choice. You can stay here in this castle as my guest. I won't hurt you – but you can't leave, not without my permission. And if you decide to stay willingly… there is no way out."
She folds her hands and stills, waiting. He quickly thinks – of all the options, there's only one that he could accept.
"I will stay," he says lowly. "Milady."
He thinks he sees a hint of a smile before she nods. "So be it. I'll see you… soon."
She's back in the shadows before he can even breathe.
.
She lets days pass.
Just a couple of days. The thief seems to be comfortable in her castle – he has his own room, and she knows he has discovered the kitchens, the library and the armory, that he has enjoyed a bubble bath and entered the ball room.
Regina has watched him intently – her mirrors are scattered everywhere in the castle, after all, and yes, she has averted her eyes when he bared himself to enter the tub. She didn't want to see him – his body… he must be at least forty, if not a couple of years older, so they're quite close in age. And he… the little she has seen of him, she has liked – and envied, too, that he's so toned and fit and perfect, in a way that she could never be.
The fairest of them all, they used to call her. Now the kingdom has forgotten her – she is dead, for them, and she could actually curse them all now. But after the Fire – when she almost perished under the flames, when she knows for sure that Rumplestiltskin died and his darkness floated away searching for a new vessel – after the Fire she's never been the same. And her dark heart has mellowed somehow.
It has taken months before she was able to get back to an almost normal life.
She knows that Maleficent saved her. Stayed with her for the first months, and waited until her magic was back. And yet not even magic was able to mend the damage to her beauty. It could mend the castle, the walls, and it could create a spell so that the castle looked impenetrable from the outside, but it couldn't mend her heart and skin.
She hasn't seen Mal in months now – she is a dragon, after all, and Aurora did what Snow did too, and there was the time of the beautiful warrior princesses and the world was tired of them, of the evil queens and witches. Mal knew her time was over in this land. She has visited, during these fifteen years, but Regina never tried to mend the wound between them.
Some things cannot be mended.
.
Robin has, surprisingly, adapted to his life in the castle.
He can wander around, almost anywhere, he can walk through the Queen's private gardens, which are quite big considering that they're situated in the middle of a castle. He misses his son, of course, but he's confident that he can manage to exit this situation, one day. He's always been good at patience.
There's a matter of fact, though. He constantly feels lonely.
The Queen is never in sight, almost, and he can't help but wonder, why did she ask him to stay if she was going to ignore him? He stays in the library, most of the time, and the weather outside is still dreadful anyway, so that books are his best company.
One day, she joins him.
At first, he's almost startled to see her appear. She's discarded the cloak now – she has a dress, velvety and form fitting, gloves at her hands and again that mask that keeps him from seeing her face. He chooses to ignore her, and keeps reading his book as if she weren't there.
He notices her, glancing at him as she pretends to skim through the shelves. And after a while, she speaks.
"How are you liking that book?" she asks, her hands curling around an old tome, then stopping and skipping the book as her fingertips dance to choose another specimen.
"It's nice. I mean, a bit dull. The main character could very well do something, in her story. Seems like she's avoiding all conflicts."
She stills for an instant, but he sees it. Her voice slightly wavering, asks, "And what about it?"
Robin shrugs. "I just think the reader would like to get to know her, that's all."
This time, the Queen turns, her eyes sending flames from behind the mask. "You are so very impertinent."
"You asked."
"I know," she says, still annoyed. "Next time, choose an answer that won't displease me."
"I'm a prisoner, not a lap dog, your Majesty," he argues.
The Queen just looks at him for a moment, then slightly shakes her head. He can't help but feel badly, as if he has displeased her in some way. Maybe it took a great deal of her, to come and talk to him, he realizes. Before he can tell her he's sorry, she's disappeared in a plume of smoke.
.
He receives an invitation, three days later.
The Queen kindly asks if he wants to join her for dinner that night, to just show up around eight and that she'll take care of everything. As he reads her note, he can't help it – he smiles, amused, thinking that she may be the most stubborn woman he's ever met. And he'll go, he decides. He briefly considers what it'd be like, not to go, and leave her there alone, but the thought is suddenly unfathomable. Despite the fact that he's forced to stay in the castle, she hasn't harmed him.
At eight he's ready, dressed up in one of those very expensive outfits he's found in the closet. He's nervous – doesn't know why, but he strolls towards the ball room with a confidence that's almost entirely fake.
The Queen is not there yet.
There's a table, though, already set with plates and candles, and soft music coming from nowhere. He stills in his tracks, at the top of the staircase which leads down to the ball room. The whole room is softly glowing in a gentle light, the enormous chandelier that hangs from the ceiling is forgotten. He takes a couple of steps down, when a noise stops him.
It's the Queen.
But she doesn't look like the Queen he's met days earlier.
She has her mask, of course, and her gloves, but her dress is midnight blue, her hair pinned up into an elegant braid rolled up in a bun.
Her eyes are sparkling, and he swears he can see the shadow of a smile under her mask.
"Milady," he bows. "Thank you for the invitation."
She nods, and this time there is a smile spreading on her lips. "Shall we?"
.
Her palms are sweating. As she has seen him, she knew this probably was a bad idea – what possessed her to ready the table as if this were a date? Because it isn't, not in the slightest, she… she can't…
The thief comes to join her – Robin, she thinks, with a small bow he offers her his hand to step down the stairs. And Regina lifts hers, because he's kind, and she could use a good example of kindness in her life, after she has –
No.
Her palms are sweating. And this is bad, very bad, because she's about to throw up. The world is dulled and at the same time too noisy, too much.
She takes his hand, and starts walking, but she can feel it coming, the thunder, the lightning, and there's nothing she can do to stop it and she should probably leave his hand, but there's still three steps and he'd ask question and she doesn't want to…
He doubles in pain, suddenly, as the lightning bolt shoots from her hand to his, he falls to his knees on the last step with a pained scream.
Regina recoils, immediately leaving his hand – but the damage is done now. The thief breathes, slowly, no doubt still feeling that electricity through his veins.
"I'm sorry," she says, crouching down next to him. What a stupid, stupid girl she is, what an idiot… "Gods, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, I swear, I…"
"It's fine," he says through gritted teeth, his eyes still close. "I know you didn't mean to, milady."
She bites her lips, her gaze falling down to her hands. She had meant to be kind, today, not to hurt him, because how can he know that she's not the Queen she once was, otherwise… She had meant to offer him a good night, and to lessen the weight of his captivity, and to be a good host, but…
The impulse starts again, and from her lips it goes through – a small No, not again, that she's sure he hasn't heard. She snatches away her gloves, her scars now visible and clear, and suddenly remembers. It's so easy to forget, sometimes, what a monster she has become, inside and out. Then she'll pass next to a mirror and see the mask, and the memory will come as abruptly as –
"Milady," his voice comes.
Her head goes up to look at him. They're still kneeling, on the last steps of the staircase, didn't even make it to the ball room before she had to go and send the whole thing to flames, she can't –
"Regina."
This – this manages to distract her from her unruly thoughts.
"How…" she stammers, surprised. "How do you…"
"Know your name?" He smiles gently, and never leaves her gaze as he slowly takes her hands. "I know your moniker came to be famous, fifteen years ago, but a name can't be forgotten that easily."
She shakes her head, slowly. "I… I'm sorry about your hand, I…"
As her gaze falls down, she now looks at their hands – his, slightly burned, nothing that a good salve can't heal, – and hers, the traces of her ancient scars still so visible in the dull light of the candles. His thumb traces on the scars, gently.
"I forgive you," he says, so low she almost doesn't hear him. She sees him lifting her hands, both of them, and kissing her knuckles. It sends a jolt of something long forgotten through her heart, but before she can question it, he says, "Let's go eat, milady."
.
He knows why she keeps avoiding him.
She just does, he knows, because it's too difficult to be with him. She was uncomfortable all through their dinner, and she probably doesn't think he noticed, but he did. Still, she has been pleasant and polite, but never touched him, not again, once he left her hands she insisted that she was dangerous and maybe it was best not to touch again.
The problem is… he'd really like to touch her. He wonders how it would be, to stroll around the garden with her, or just… hold her hand while they read, curled up next to the fire.
He sees her once, in the following days, exiting the kitchens just when he's entering. There's always food, in the kitchens, and he has stopped wondering where it came from, because it must be her magic. He just uses it, uncaring, even though sometimes he'd like to go hunting, he thinks. He wonders if the queen likes to hunt. He isn't fond of it, because he doesn't like animals suffering, but as long as he always thanks the nature for the gift she has provided him, his conscience is clear.
When he sees her she just goes, not a word, not a smile, and Robin is puzzled. But he thinks nothing of it – the Queen, after all, is a complicated woman, that much he has gathered since he's here. She'll come to him when she's ready. He imagines that, after years of solitude, it must be hard for her to reconnect with people.
Even if he doesn't think she's been completely alone. There is something she's not saying, he knows. And he really wants to know. Not just to intrude in her business, but honestly, because she fascinates him. A lot. And he just feels that she's not been alone for fifteen years. In that case… he's sure she'd have gone mad.
Still, he'll try to know what happened from her, but if she won't tell him anything, he'll just go see for himself. And he'll betray her trust – maybe, but there's more to the Queen than what she's showing.
He starts easily. Leaves her a note in the kitchen, asking for her company. Tells her that he'll be in the gardens every day just before the sunset, and that she's welcome to join him whenever she wants. He waits for her, for the first two days, and she doesn't come, but he just shrugs and tells himself that it was a long shot anyway.
And on the third day, she comes – dressed in a long, white dress, seeming more soft than he's ever seen her. He has noticed just now that her mask changes its color accordingly with her dresses, and for some reasons he finds it entirely endearing.
"Robin," she greets him. "I… How are you?"
"I'm fine," he answers kindly. "It's good to see you, milady."
She nods, but he thinks he sees barely-there smile. "You wanted to take a walk, right? I could use some fresh air."
He nods back, and lifts his arm, in a silent offering. He thinks she won't take it – she has said, many times, that she doesn't want him to touch her, lest she hurts him again. But this time, she takes a step and takes his arm with a sort of amiable quality he thought she didn't have.
They talk. And it's weird at the start, but he's confident that she's somehow warming up to him. She asks him of his family, and he tells her of his son and late wife and how he'd like to see Roland again one day, even though his boy is twenty now, almost engaged but definitely in love with a sweet girl. Regina smiles at that – definitely smiles and tells him that Roland is lucky to have been loved so much.
He doesn't ask of her life, it's too soon for that. He knows the important parts anyway, and Regina is not going to speak about her hidden moments. She doesn't trust him yet, she's pleasant and kind, but doesn't trust him. Robin tells her, that he would have never expected the Evil Queen to be… like this. He thinks she'll be hurt by his comment, but surprisingly, she seems happy to hear those words. When they part ways, she promises it won't be as long until they meet again.
.
Regina tries to keep her promise.
She goes to him again, visiting him in his chambers one morning. She goes before she can think of how inappropriate it could be, but what does she care? Who in this palace does she need to impress?
Nevertheless, Robin welcomes her with all the courtesy he has, and accepts her invitation for a luncheon out of the castle. They'll take a horse, she says, and they'll ride towards the coast, it's just a short trip.
She fears he's going to escape.
But he doesn't.
He's perfectly pleasant and he follows her back to the castle, keeps his promise. He returns to captivity, good-naturedly, and she is left with a kiss on her hand and a big question in her heart – what's the catch, what's the trick. What will he do.
The answer comes after a few days.
She catches him in her secret chambers, where she keeps spells and vials and mirrors, and he's absolutely horrified when he sees her.
"Regina, I…"
"I know," her hand raises to shut him. "I know you have questions. But this is not the way."
Her hand swirls and he disappears, transported somewhere in the palace – because she is not angry, she is not taken by the wild rage of her evil years, she's just… tired.
.
The Queen comes to see him after sundown.
He has taken to bring his meals to his chambers, avoiding the library that they have both loved during these months. He opens the door, and is surprised to find her dressed in light blue, her hair into a simple braid, and without her gloves. Her masked face is difficult to read, but Robin stares at her, waiting for her to speak.
"Robin. May I come in?"
He has half a mind to tell her no, that she can't, after she keeps treating him like he's a pretty decoration (it's not true, he knows, because he has laughed and shared good memories with her, it's unjust and cruel to say she's so uncaring.)
"Come in."
She hesitates for a moment, but steps in, and he leaves the door open after her. (Not that she'd need the door, if she wants to get away.)
"I wanted to apologize," she starts. "I shouldn't have teleported you without your permission."
He nods, says, "Thank you. I wanted to apologize to, because… you were right. I had no business in that room, and I had no right to intrude."
He sees her biting her lip – hesitating. "I… I wanted you to see me." At his puzzled gaze, she continues. "To see me without the mask."
Before he can react – before he can do anything but open his mouth – her fingers have already flown up, behind her head, to unlace the knot that keeps the mask in place. He waits, his heart resounding in his chest, as she slowly lowers the mask, her face now bare to him.
It's scarred.
She has a complicated pattern of scars, through her face, her skin looks fragile and more pale in some places. Her eyes have been spared by the fire, evidently, and one of her cheeks too, but the rest has irremediably been touched by the flames. His heart squeezes, as she lowers her eyes.
"So that's… that's how I am now," she murmurs. "I wanted you to see it – because you probably imagined, but this is what I see if I don't wear a mask."
He takes a step towards her – Regina stays there, her equally scarred hands twisting together into her dress.
"I was… I am a monster," she lifts her head, now looking at him, her eyes glistening, but there's no tears there. "I was the Evil Queen – and I was a monster, then Snow exiled me to this life of… she set the fire – with the help of magic – and she still thinks I'm dead. I… I tried not to go mad. I had a friend, but she seldom comes, and I haven't lost magic, so I can manage. I asked you to stay because I was worried you'd go tell Snow, and she'd come to kill me. And I don't want to fight her anymore. I'm tired," she says, and he finally sees a tear escaping her eyes. He's compelled to come closer, to take her into his arms, but he stills.
"The day you came – I wanted to end it. I had decided, but then you… you stole a rose," she smiles between tears, and Robin smiles too, just a bit. "I had missed company, and I know I've not been a good host. But now you're free. You don't deserve to live your days as a prisoner because I'm too selfish. You're free."
He doesn't know what to say.
Images run through his brain – all at once, he sees his son and his new life, and his darling Marian's grave – he'd like to visit it one day. He sees the days he's spent with the queen – despite being so distant, she's been an excellent company, and he's never let himself see her as more, but… now he sees himself going to the stables and taking a horse and riding back to his old life.
And he can't.
"I don't want to go."
She looks up, surprised, and stills – and he finally takes her into his arms, gets closer and lifts gently her chin. "You're not a monster, Regina. Maybe you were… but the woman I know it's the furthest thing from a monster. You burned me, that day in the ballroom, remember? And you were so worried, so devastated that you might have hurt me. You're not a monster. You paid your debts – and I know of the days you spend, disguised as an old lady, offering remedies and treatments to the poor of the nearby villages."
Her breath catches, and she whispers, "You knew?"
"Of course I knew," he says, affectionate, swiping away a tear with his thumb. "And your scars… I know there's nothing I could say that would make them feel better. But you're beautiful. I'm sorry you feel like you have to wear a mask, but I've always found you beautiful – you can, if you want, choose not to believe me, but just know that I don't care about a few scars. Your heart is the most important thing and if that is as beautiful as I suppose it is, then I wish I could spend the rest of my days kissing those scars until you love them as I love your soul."
She's crying now, silent tears marring her cheeks. "I wish I could see myself as you do."
"Well then I want you to try," he murmurs. He glances to his side – there's a mirror at their left, and they find themselves looking right into it. "I see a wonderful person, and I'm sorry life has been difficult. I won't give up on you – because I thought that being a prisoner was awful at first, but it really gave me… a second chance."
He sees her turn in the mirror.
Looks at her again, as she slowly nods, then pushes onto her tiptoes to press a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Thank you for not giving up," she whispers.
.
It's as easy as breathing.
The first time they kiss – the first time they make love – it's as if they have been doing this since forever.
Robin gently helps her back into the light.
She's reluctant at first – they take it slow, after years of solitude, years of pain and hatred. They seek Snow and Charming, and Robin holds her hand through all the meeting. Regina doesn't care about being Queen anymore, and it takes some time, but she and Snow forgive each other.
She meets Roland and his wife, one day – she instantly likes him, this boy who's as courteous and brave as his father, and his sweet Grace who is as kind as her father once was.
She goes with Robin.
The mask will lie forgotten in her chambers – and if sometimes she'll miss it, the reclusion… life has brought her many gifts, and she can't wait to see what they are.
