Gosh, so this took forever and I am so very sorry but I've had a really busy time with moving house and starting Uni again and volunteering with the police and helping a few friends with their fics as well as writing out plans and scenes for another fic idea that hit me a few weeks ago… I'll endeavour to update quicker in the future.
Thanks for sticking with me and thank you so much for your reviews :) you've made me smile so much.
In response to Nayara's question about the tattoo; no, Regina hasn't seen it yet, and she doesn't actually see it for a while – a lot of stuff happens that keeps them both kinda busy, so we still have a fair bit of OQ as a not-quite-couple before the big dun-dun-duuuun :)
So yes, enjoy, and please review or drop me a PM or whatever :D
Thank you, my dears.
xXx
The first thing Regina consciously knew was that she was in pain.
Everywhere.
The second thing that she noticed—as she squinted and blinked several times before her eyes actually fully opened—was that it was daytime. It took Regina a few moments to orientate herself before she could actually take in her surroundings.
Well… she wasn't lying in the grass of the castle's grounds. That was a good thing. Regina took a split second too long to realise that she was actually in her own bedroom, lying in her own bed and wrapped in her own sheets.
Before she could turn her head to look at anything other than the ceiling and the canopy above her bed, she heard a gruff, "It's about damn time you woke up."
When she snapped her head to her right, she saw Granny sitting in a chair at her bedside, knitting. "How are you feeling?" the elder woman asked, with little interest.
Regina's voice was rough when she replied with her customary "fine", and she winced when she cleared her throat to try and relieve the hoarse scratchiness.
"Don't lie to me, missy," Granny ordered firmly, before she repeated her original question. "How are you feeling?"
Regina searched for a suitable comparison to the turbulent waves washing through her, the ones that were both uncomfortable and painful.
The Queen settled on a wry, "Like I've been pulsed through a blender."
And she was only half joking.
"You look like it, too," Granny retorted.
Regina sent a glare in the direction of the woman sitting in the chair, sighing with a dry "thanks."
"Do you need anything?" Granny asked after a brief, slightly awkward pause.
She hesitated momentarily. "A drink," she muttered reluctantly.
Granny picked up a glass of water from the table next to her, bringing it to Regina. When the Queen shifted and attempted to sit up, a firm hand was placed on her shoulder, keeping her in place.
"Here," the woman said as she lifted the cup to the Queen's lips, fighting the urge to chuckle at the glare sent her way.
After a few sips, Regina tilted her head away, and the glass was set back on the table. Closing her eyes, she tried to lift her hand to rub her forehead to ease a little tension away, but a warm weight—that she had only just recognised—prevented her from doing so. Looking down, the Queen was surprised to see Snow fast asleep, resting her head on the bed.
"The poor girl hasn't left your side," Granny stated, harshness creeping into her tone at the memory of her skipping meal times to stay with the Queen. "I don't know why."
Regina's voice was quiet when she replied, "Neither do I."
The scowl on Granny's face softened briefly. "What were you thinking?" she asked sternly.
Regina blinked. "I'm sorry?"
Clarification was offered in the form of, "Going out by yourself when you knew Zelena had singled you out."
"I didn't plan on getting my ass handed to me," sighed Regina, wincing and gritting her teeth as the pain in her stomach flared.
"What did you plan for?" Granny asked, suspicion lacing her voice. "You spent an awful long time in that library. You knew something was going to happen."
Regina's lack of response was enough to suffice as an answer.
"What did she say?" questioned the woman. "In that message?"
"Nothing you need to worry about," she snapped.
Granny leaned forward, setting aside her wool and needles and she looked straight at the Queen, speaking in a low, authoritative voice as she ordered, "tell me."
Not in the mood to spar with the elder woman, Regina dismissed her with, "She informed me of what she would do—"
"—if you wouldn't meet with her," Granny completed.
She received confirmation in the form of Regina's nod, but then the Queen winced as the movement agitated her pounding head.
"She threatened you," continued Granny, "didn't she?"
Regina was about to shake her head, but stopped herself before her headache could flare up again. She stated simply, "She didn't threaten me."
Granny leaned back in her chair as a wave of understanding washed over her. "She threatened to hurt someone else," she deduced, "in your name."
The lack of response once again answered the question.
"Who?" asked Granny.
A dismissive "that doesn't matter," was Regina's answer.
But Granny Lucas was not one to be placated by the Queen's stubbornness. "I think that it does matter."
Regina turned to look at the woman sitting beside her. "It doesn't matter, because she's not going to get to them."
"Who is 'them'?" Granny asked, becoming impatient when Regina looked away again. "No," snapped the old woman, "you look at me, and you tell me; who did Zelena threaten?"
Meeting the woman's gaze for a few seconds was enough to wear Regina down a lot; she was not in a good enough state to put up any kind of fight—verbal or physical—and the expression of determination in Granny's eyes was the same as the one that Regina had seen in the mirror many times. There was no use in fighting the woman.
The Queen's voice was quiet when she reluctantly answered. "It was Snow, Charming…Robin and his son, Roland. She showed me a vision of them," Regina confessed, "they were all dead."
A sorrowful expression appeared on Granny's face. She may not have been particularly fond of the Queen, but that didn't mean that Regina deserved to watch the suffering of the people she cared about. Nobody did.
Maternal instincts kicked in and Granny had to suppress the urge to reach for Regina's hand or smooth down her hair. The Queen would definitely not appreciate that, and it would imply that she actually cared for the woman—even the smallest amount—which she would never admit to.
The awkward silence between the two was cut by Snow's shifting, the sound of voices having disrupted her sleep. The princess sat up, blinking as she ran her hands through her hair and stretched, paying no attention to anyone else in the room as she roused herself from her slumber.
When her eyes fell on Regina's face she gasped, and there was a moment of shocked silence before a beaming smile made its way across the princess' face as she threw herself on the Queen. Snow buried her face in Regina's shoulder as her torso stretched over the edge of the bed.
Granny went to warn the girl to be careful when Regina's eyes scrunched closed and her whole body tensed, but the Queen waved her hand in dismissal before awkwardly placing it on Snow's back.
"We were so worried," whispered Snow into Regina's hair.
"No need dear, I'm fine," said Regina in slight annoyance.
Feeling mildly uncomfortable by the affection, Regina moved her hand to Snow's shoulder and gently pushed her away. "See?" said the Queen when the girl still looked concerned.
"Yes but—you were—I mean, they said—"stuttered Snow before she took a deep breath, calming herself down so that she was able to complete her sentence. "They said it was unlikely that you would pull through."
"Well 'they' are idiots," Regina grumbled, "besides; it's going to take more than a jealous witch to get rid of me."
Snow gently shook her head as she took Regina's hand in hers again, "I'm just so glad that you're alright."
Feeling like an intruder, Granny stood from her chair, wincing at the pops and clicks of her set joints. "Well, I'm going to go and notify a few people you're awake. I'll leave the official announcement up to you."
Regina muttered a "thank you" as the woman exited, closing the door behind her. This left the Queen alone with a bright and smiling Snow.
Lovely.
"So," Snow started, "do you want to talk about it?"
Her reply was a curt "no". Hadn't Snow learned that she wasn't a fan of heart-to-hearts?
The princess was quiet for a short time, before she looked to her stepmother and spoke. "For the first few days there were—"
"Days? How long have I—oh!" Regina groaned as she moved to sit up, but pain immediately began shooting through her and she gingerly laid herself back down again. The shock of her having been unconscious for several days had momentarily superseded all thought of her injuries.
Snow waited until Regina's breathing had returned to normal and she had opened her eyes again before she answered the question she was no doubt going to be asked. "Today is the sixth day since the attack."
"Six days," Regina breathed, staring at the ceiling before she turned to Snow, offering a mockingly surprised, "and the castle is still standing?"
The girl smiled at the quip—proof that her stepmother was well again. She hadn't fully realised how much she had missed the barbs and retorts aimed her way until there weren't any.
"It's good to have you back, Regina."
The door suddenly flung open, making way for Charming to breeze through.
"Regina," he greeted as he walked over to his wife, laying a hand on her shoulder, "Granny said you were up. It's good to see you awake."
"Who are you kidding?" Regina scoffed as she once again tried to shift in her bed, wincing as she catalogued her injuries, and the treatments the healer had provided.
There were bandages on her left hand, her right arm was in a sling, and the lower part of her legs were wrapped in bandages and attached to splints. Her ribs still hurt with every breath, and there was still a dull ache around her torso.
Well, this would continue to drive her mad if she didn't do something about it.
Extracting her left hand from between Snow's, she held it a few inches above her body; palm angled towards her feet, her eyes closed. Taking a deep breath—which made her wince as her fractured ribs protested at the expansion of her lungs—she called forth her magic, and as soon as she had the words "tanka harwar"in her head, a plume of purple smoke wrapped around her ankles and travelled up, following the path her hand took as she moved it toward her head, the magic healing her wounds as it went.
When the smoke cleared, Regina took an experimental deep breath and released it with a smile when there was very little pain left over.
"Better?" Charming asked, arms folded.
"Much," Regina answered, removing the sling from her shoulder and then throwing the covers back, and she began to unwrap the bandages that held the splints to her legs.
Regina started unwrapping the bandage on her left upper arm, but the whole group frowned when they saw that the cut was still there; red and scabbed over.
"Why hasn't that one healed?" Snow asked.
Regina's frown deepened, trying to recall how she got the injury, if memory served her it was at the start; right after her warning shot.
"Zelena did it. With her magic."
Snow and Charming just stared at her, looking even more confused; they knew that Zelena had wounded her—that hadn't been difficult to work out. But they couldn't understand how that held any relevance to the reason why the cut hadn't healed.
Taking note of the nonplussed couple, Regina let out an irritated sigh and began to explain, unwrapping the bandage on her left hand as she did so. "If magic makes a wound directly, only the caster's magic can heal it. If magic is used to wield an object, and said object makes a wound, then anyone's magic can heal that."
"So," Charming started, licking his lips as his eyebrows drew together, "Zelena made that cut with her magic."
Regina looked up from her bandage and glanced at him. "That is what I just said," she said exasperatedly before turning her attention back to her hand. "Obviously there are exceptions, but that's the general rule."
Charming looked to his wife—who still seemed to be grasping the new magical concept—and then back to Regina as he bit back a retort.
Once Regina had removed all her bandages, she looked down at herself and frowned upon the sudden realization that she was not clad in her own attire. Looking up at the other two royals in the room and then back to the huge shirt she had been dressed in, Regina's hand gripped the side and pulled it out, judging just how many sizes too big it was.
"It's Little John's." Snow offered in explanation. "Robin gave it to us; your own wardrobe was too constricting for Edwardson to see to your wounds properly."
Regina nodded, suddenly wondering where the thief was. She hadn't seen him in six days and, although she had been unconscious the entire time, she had still somehow missed his presence.
She didn't need to wonder long, though; the door forcefully opened, bouncing off the wall, with Robin rushing in before he came to a stop in front of her bed. His gaze was heavy and weighted and it bored into Regina, but he said nothing. His eyes spoke for him as a myriad of emotions flashed across his face.
"I'm okay," Regina assured, her voice gentle and soothing.
Robin seemed to relax; the anticipation in his body faded and the comforting release of tension rushed through him, knowing that Regina was fine. She was alive. Safe. And he wouldn't allow for anything otherwise whilst he was still breathing.
The thief had no plans to let her out of his sight for a long while.
It turned out that his son felt the same way; the little boy—who had been following his father to the Queen's room as soon as he had received the news that she was awake—ran past him and practically leaped onto Regina's lap.
Regina couldn't stop the smile from gracing her features as her arms came to wrap around the young boy.
"Roland!" Robin warned, "I told you that Regina was—"
"I'm fine," Regina interrupted, before muttering a quiet "he's fine" in reassurance.
Robin let out a small sigh and nodded, moving to sit on the spare chair. His hand rested on his boy's leg, but his thumb was tracing over Regina's thigh.
Regina sat in silence, listening intently to Roland's chattering as he filled her in on all of the amusing antics that the Merry Men had been up to. Regina was nodding and humming in encouragement when the young boy paused for breath.
Charming watched as Robin's eyes never left Regina's face, a small smile tugging at the thief's lips whenever Roland drew a laugh from the Queen.
"Right," Charming started, putting his hand on Snow's shoulder, "We should go."
Snow shook her head, also watching the exchange between Regina and Robin Hood's son. "It's fine."
"Snow," Charming warned, pressing down a tiny bit firmer on her shoulder.
The princess shrugged him off, looking up at her husband. "I'll leave shortly."
"Snow…" David sighed, fairly irritable and Snow huffed.
Regina looked over at Snow and Charming and frowned at the two before turning back to Roland.
"As fascinating as this is, Roland, could you possibly wait a second?" she asked him, before whispering, "I'll only be a moment."
Roland nodded and snuggled into Regina, tucking his head under her chin and holding the arm she had wrapped around him.
"Snow, go," Regina started. "Go and get something to eat, get some sleep, and have a bath and get a change of clothes—because frankly, dear, you're beginning to smell."
Snow took a short moment to regard Regina with a look of slight shock on her face at the brutally honest comment, before she tried to speak. "Regina—"
"Snow, leave. Spend some time with your husband, I think he's starting to get jealous of me," she teased. When Snow still did not move after several moments, Regina took on a slightly firmer tone. "Right, I don't want to see you until this time tomorrow. Go and sort yourself out."
"But—" Snow started.
Regina's voice was fairly harsh when she ordered, "Now. Snow."
The tone and firmness of her order took Snow back to when she was a young girl and refused to go to bed one night. The Queen had said almost the exact same thing back then, and without even thinking about it, Snow had rolled her eyes and said "yes, mother." And she found herself doing the same thing again.
When she realised what she had said, Snow's eyes widened and she looked at Regina with mild panic in her eyes, unsure of what the Queen's reaction would be.
Taking pity on the girl—just this once—Regina softly chided the same remark as she used to, "Less of the cheek."
The two shared a smile; Snow's wide and beaming, and Regina's small and sincere.
Regina cocked her head toward the door and Snow finally got the message and stood from her seat. Charming placed his hand on his wife's back, throwing a thankful smile in Regina's direction as they left the room.
Turning back to Roland, Regina was about to tell the boy to continue with his stories, but the words died in her throat when she noticed him sleeping peacefully with his eyes closed and his thumb in his mouth. The sight drew a smile to her face.
The moment the door shut, Robin turned to Regina and the serenity of the moment was broken.
"What were you thinking?" he asked, his hushed tone still making way for slight anger to bleed through.
Regina sighed. She'd already had this discussion with Widow Lucas, and she would no doubt have it with Snow and Charming when the novelty of her awakening had worn off. She did not need it from the thief as well. "Robin—"
"Or were you just not thinking at all?" he continued, interrupting.
"Look, it's not your place to—"
"Not my place to do what? To worry? To be concerned for your safety?" The thief was apparently determined to have this conversation, regardless of Regina's abhorrence for yet another person telling her what she should or should not do. "What did you expect me to do?" he spat, "Did you think I wouldn't care?"
Regina sighed, and Robin was annoyed by the slight roll of her eyes. "I didn't ask you to."
"It doesn't matter whether you asked me to or not, the fact is that you—" When Roland stirred at the sound of his father's voice growing louder, Robin stopped. He ran a hand over his face and sighed, "You shouldn't have gone alone, Regina."
"Oh?" The Queen scoffed, "And I suppose you mean to tell me that I should have brought some kind of protection with me."
"Yes," Robin responded in a heartbeat. "Why didn't you?"
"Because if I had, someone could have been killed," Regina stated. She was quickly becoming frustrated. "Robin, I am the most powerful practitioner of magic here, and look what happened."
"We could have helped," argued the thief. "I could have helped."
"How? With pointy sticks? Metal poles?" Regina asked incredulously, then remembering that Roland was still resting on her knee and she should reign in her temper. "Do you not understand just how powerful magic actually is?"
Robin sighed and rolled his eyes, before earnestly responding, "Regina, I understand."
"I don't think you do," she snapped, taking a moment to try and work out how she could make the outlaw understand. "Robin, if you were there, what would you try to do to protect me? Fire arrows? Now, presuming that Zelena didn't see you before you even fired the shot and roasted your ass, she could have put up a protection barrier around herself; she could have reflected the arrow back to you; she could have deflected it to me; she could have set the actual thing alight or—if all else failed—she could have just caught it! You cannot take down someone as powerful as Zelena with an arrow, Robin. That's child's play."
"Well, I could have at least tried," Robin murmured. He was a little put out that he hadn't realized there were so many magical options.
"You would have died. Zelena would have killed you." Regina turned her gaze downward to the little boy curled up against her. "And I'm not going to let her hurt you. Or Roland."
"She's not going to harm us, Regina."
Regina's gaze turned away from Roland's sleeping form to stare outside her balcony.
Robin frowned at the Queen's lack of biting response. He reached over and placed his hand over one of hers, "We're staying the castle because it's the safest place for us, Regina."
"Exactly," said Regina as she turned to face him, "So stay in the castle."
"Fine, but the next time I'm going with you to keep an eye out," he declared. "Even if it's just to ensure that you make it back to safety."
Regina rolled her eyes and let out another sigh; they were back to square one again. "She would know if you were there, Robin."
"I'd stay hidden," he protested, "I'm a thief, as you keep reminding me, your majesty. I'm quite adept at hiding."
"No."
"Regina—"
"No. You are not coming with me. End of discussion." Regina noted the outlaw's mouth open, ready to retort, and she spoke again before he could get a word out. "If anything happened to you, Roland would be on his own. I'm not going to be responsible for that."
Robin sighed, finally relenting at the slight hitch in Regina's voice and the mention of his son. "Well, what about the prince? Or—"
"If anything happened to Charming, it would be the end of Snow. Those two are the same heart and soul. There's no splitting them up," Regina huffed and muttered, "Believe me; I've tried many a time."
"Then what about your knights?"
"The knights have people too; wives, children… They all have people they need to live for." Regina gently shrugged her shoulders, averting her gaze, "I don't have anyone. I'm expendable. And if that means that—"
Regina was cut off by Robin grasping her chin and leaning forward to bring his lips to hers.
It took Regina a few seconds to realize what was happening, but Robin had pulled away before she even had a chance to kiss him back. Leaning forward, Regina recaptured the outlaw's lips, swiping her tongue to taste his and letting out a quiet moan. As she suddenly remembered the little boy resting on her knee, Regina turned the kiss into several lingering pecks, careful to not get too carried away—regardless of how much she was tempted to.
When they parted, Robin pulled back and looked Regina in the eye. "You are not expendable. Not to me. Have you got that?"
"I…" Regina paused, eyes wide, searching for words—but nothing came to her.
So, for once, she was actually thankful when the door opened and her time with the outlaw was cut short.
Roland shifted in her lap, rubbing his eyes with his fists as he stirred. Robin sat back down in his chair with a scowl, and then turned to look at the door with a glare. He felt that, perhaps, he might have gotten somewhere if it weren't for the people who had walked in—his glare grew more fierce as he noticed that the intruders were a few of his own Merry Men.
Those traitors.
George walked in first, holding yet another bouquet of fresh flowers for the Queen. Will was second, with a small smile growing upon his face at the sight of Roland cuddled up into Regina. There was an older man with kind eyes that Regina had seen before, and a young, fresh-faced teenager trailing behind him—they were both looking around the huge chambers in awe. Robin later introduced them as Alan-a-Dale and Much, respectively.
Regina paid no mind to the men's words of good health to her—she only nodded and tried her best to smile when they looked to her for a response. Her mind was preoccupied with other thoughts; she was caught up in Robin's declaration. He had seemed to actually be concerned about her. And the thought that perhaps their little "distraction" was no longer just a distraction was pushed back in her mind, behind the unusual feeling in the pit of her stomach, knowing that she mattered to someone.
This was why Regina had made Robin agree to the "no feelings" rule; emotions clouded her judgement. But she looked over to Robin, gazing at his son, and saw his features melt. His eyes filled with love and a gentle smile appeared on his face.
And for a short while, she let herself relax and enjoy the company of the thief, his son and the Merry Men. She would work out everything else later.
…
It was late. It was dark. It was cold.
Robin didn't care.
His mind was running wild. He had left Regina's room earlier with his Merry Men and Roland, after he had noticed that Regina's temper was growing shorter as her desire to rest grew stronger. Since then, his mind had been full of hopeless wanderings; of everything that could have happened to the Queen. He had been thrown headfirst into the realisation that he did indeed care for her—though in what capacity, he had no idea.
But he knew that he could not take a step back now; not when he saw a smile on her face that was so beautiful that it was impossible to not return it, and when he saw her laugh with bright eyes he saw her as a woman untainted by evil and darkness. And Robin yearned for a time when he could kiss her and hold her and take her whenever and wherever he so desired.
He wanted that now. He wanted to feel her body around his, he wanted to hear her breathing heavily as she moaned his name and he wanted to see her come apart under him, warm and safe and alive in his arms.
Robin knocked on Regina's door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other with his hands in his pockets, and as soon as she opened her door he was on her—taking her face in his hands, he kissed her; moving his lips over hers and brushing his tongue over her lower lip before she could even process the idea of returning the favour.
Regina moaned, her hands coming up to grasp his elbows as she stepped forward into him, parting her lips. But before she could pull him closer or bite his lip or anything else that she wanted so desperately to do, he pulled away.
"Are you alright?" he asked, running his hands down her arms and taking her hands into his own.
"I'm fine," responded Regina.
"I mean are you well enough for this?"
Regina smirked. "I'll always be well enough for this, Robin."
"Are you sure?" he checked, thumbs tracing over the back of her hand.
She answered by pressing her lips to his, allowing the kiss to be gentle for a while before she started nipping at his lower lip, gripping his shirt and then tugging at the hem of it so that she could feel his body against hers.
Robin's hands gripped her hips and he started pushing her backward, walking with her to the canopy bed, until her knees hit the mattress and he had to wrap an arm around Regina's back to keep the momentum from forcing her down.
He had other plans in mind.
Turning them until they faced the opposite direction, the thiefsat down on the Queen's bed. His grip on Regina's hips kept her exactly where she was; standing between his knees. Bringing his hands up to the front of her robe, Robin deftly untied the knot of the deep navy sash that kept the dark, silk fabric wrapped around her and he parted his lips on a deep exhale when the material parted and showed the matching nightdress underneath. It only came to mid-thigh and the black lace that trimmed the hem and the neckline contrasted starkly with her olive skin.
Robin ghosted his hands up the edges of her robe, trailing his fingers up to her collarbone before slowly pushing the garment off of her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet. The outlaw's hand came up to rest on the small of her back and brought her even closer to him, forcing his legs further apart to accommodate her.
"Robin…" Regina breathed. The emotion in his gaze and his gentle touch made her feel more exposed to him than she ever had before.
He hushed her, pressing several close mouthed kisses along the lace adorning her neckline, sliding his fingers under the thin straps holding the dress up and easing them off her shoulders. The silk fell, lingering over her breasts and hips before it met the matching robe on the floor.
At the sight of the green lightning marring her skin—slightly more faded than they had been the first time he noticed, but still all too visible for his liking—Robin frowned. He leaned forward and trailed several kisses down her torso, feeling the hitch in her breath under his lips.
When he sat back and placed his hands on her hips, his thumbs tracing over smooth skin, he softly asked her, "What is this?"
"It's…" Robin looked up at her, silently begging her to not brush him off like she had done to everyone else "It's Zelena's magic," she confessed.
Robin traced a finger over one of the long, jagged green lines. "Will it stay like this?"
"No, it will go away in a few days," replied Regina, her voice soft and quiet.
Robin nodded, his gaze still transfixed on her skin. "Does it hurt?"
"Not at the moment." Regina took his hands in hers and removed them from where they were tracing over her torso, "Robin, forget about it. I'll be fine."
He turned her left hand over in his and traced his fingers over the skin on the palm that he had seen torn, pressing a kiss there before he turned his attention elsewhere. He smoothed his hands over her ribs, her back, her shoulders—everywhere he had seen bruises. When Regina breathed his name again, it sounded a lot more like a warning—although what she was warning him against, he was unsure. When his hands came up to cup her face, tracing a thumb over where an abrasion had marred the soft skin on her right cheekbone, Regina closed her eyes and let herself lean into his touch.
"Robin…" Regina started with a sigh, "what are you doing?"
His first response was to wonder if it wasn't obvious what he was doing; he had asked her if she was well enough for "this", and between the kisses and his divesting of her, surely it wasn't that difficult for her to work out what he was doing.
"I'm taking care of you," he said, the tone of his voice showing his confusion in her lack of understanding.
Regina scoffed. "I don't need to be 'taken care of.' And I don't usually do gentle, Robin."
"I'm just making sure you're okay," Robin responded, gently tracing her lips with his thumb, hoping to stop any snappy retort.
She managed to reply "I'm fine," her voice somewhat harsher than before, when he kissed her, halting any more arguments saying that she was perfectly okay—because he knew she wasn't.
Neither was he.
He may not have personally been involved in the fight, nor had he been injured the way that she had, but the way that the panic and dread had gripped his heart and not released for the six days earlier still greatly affected him. He had seen Regina hurt and—for what was probably the first time since he had met her a few months prior—he had been shown just how human she was; she was not infallible, not indestructible. And whilst she may have been the strongest person he knew, she was not immune to harm.
And then Snow and Charming had told him—in their own ways—to take care of Regina and to treat her right, and he had found himself agreeing; making promises to never hurt her and refusing to let her push him away. The thought occurred to him that, perhaps, he was getting in too deep. Perhaps Will had been right in his assumption that Robin would get drawn in too far, too quickly. The thief had a feeling that their agreement to "no feelings" was going to come up again at some point. It was inevitable.
And if she kept on kissing him in the way that she was,it would happen sooner rather than later.
Her hands came up to frame his face as she tilted her head, her nose brushing his cheek as she opened her mouth under his, letting out a moan as the tips of his fingers trailed down her spine.
"Regina—" Robin started, but Regina—refusing to let him say anything even remotely "gentle" to her and having still not fully comprehended what he had said to her earlier—nipped and sucked at the spot below his ear that she had discovered made him groan and lose all track of his thoughts.
"Not fair," Robin breathed, his hands flexing at her hips and bringing her body forward for something to grind against, the coarse material of his trousers roughly rubbed against her bare skin as the building tension in him eased slightly.
"Didn't anyone tell you?" Regina teased with a sharp nip to his neck, "I never play fair."
Robin's urge to be completely tender—for fear of hurting her in any way, however pleasurable she may find it—had mostly faded away, and a wave of lust took over him. His grip on her body tightened, the grind of his hips became harsher, and upon a particularly powerful suck to his neck he tilted his head and recaptured Regina's lips with a groan.
As her tongue stroked his, Regina brought her hands up to his shirt and swiftly unfastened every button before he could even comprehend what was happening. When her hands unfastened his belt and he felt the waistband becoming loose around his hips, Robin took them in his own and kept their joined hands at his sides, lacing their fingers together and trailing a row of kisses from the corner of her jaw down past her collar bone towards her sternum. He pressed a lingering kiss to each nipple, smiling as they hardened and goose-bumps decorated her chest.
With his eyes locked on hers, Robin pushed her back a step and then knelt at her feet, grinning at her deep intake in breath. His hands trailed up her legs, from ankle to thigh and then back down again. Hooking one hand behind the back of her right knee, Robin raised it until her foot was resting on the bed behind him, making her right hand fly to his shoulder for balance.
He dragged his lips up the inside of her thigh, pressing a few sporadic kisses on his journey to a place he had missed—probably more than he should—over the past near-week. When his lips trailed over her sensitive skin—just an inch or two above where she needed it—Regina gasped, and the hand not resting on his shoulder moved to grasp a handful of his hair, directing his mouth just a little further down until he was there and treating her to long, slow licks.
Regina's head fell back, her long hair brushing against the hand he had resting high on her backside—the one keeping her secure to him and firmly kneading her ass whenever his tongue brushed past her entrance.
"Robin…" Regina moaned breathlessly.
When he looked up, the Queen had her eyes closed and her bottom lip between her teeth. Robin groaned and pulled her to him again, burying his face between her legs and adding just a bit more vigour to his movements.
Robin winced as the grip Regina had on his hair tightened enough for him to feel a good few strands being pulled out. He sucked her clit between his lips and flicked his tongue back and forth, enjoying the sharp cry he heard from above him.
Upon a particularly harsh suck, Regina whimpered and nearly fell forward, her elbow locking as her fingertips dug into Robin's shoulder.
"I can't do this," Regina breathed, running a shaky hand through her hair once she had removed it from his. Robin pulled back, concern taking over his features, and upon seeing his expression she breathily clarified. "Standing up... I can't do this standing up."
"Oh." Robin stood with a cocky grin, licking his lips before he stepped to the side and swept his arm out towards the bed, "After you milady."
With a smirk of her own, Regina moved so that she was between the thief and her bed. Holding his gaze, she moved backward, lifting one knee and then the other until she was kneeling at the edge of her mattress. Biting her lip, she grabbed at the open edges of Robin's shirt, pulling him with her as she moved higher up the bed, ensuring that the thief had no choice but to follow her.
With a low chuckle, Robin wrapped his arm around Regina's hips and crawled forward with her. But his trousers finally slid off his hips and bunched around his knees, hindering the outlaw's next move so much that he overbalanced, falling forward and taking Regina with him.
They ended up sprawled out side by side, heads nearly colliding on the pillow as their legs tangled together.
They looked at each other for a few seconds, before laughter bubbled out of them. Robin was unable to do anything more than rest his head in the crook of Regina's neck and chuckle whilst she rolled her eyes and tilted her head back.
Regina removed her knee from where it had become wedged between the outlaw's thighs and pushed at the difficult garment with her toes until she heard the faint thud of his trousers falling off the bed.
Robin raised his head and rested it back on the pillow, looking at the smile on Regina's face and the light in her eyes, thinking about how he had nearly lost the opportunity to see such a sight ever again. The matching smile on his own lips faded as his gaze became intense, his hand reaching up to cup Regina's cheek.
"Don't," Regina warned.
"Don't what?" Robin asked, his eyebrows drawing together.
"Get sentimental."
"I'm not…I just…" Robin closed his eyes and sighed. "You almost died, Regina. Allow me one momen—"
"No," Regina sniped. "Robin, seriously. Don't."
"Why not?"
"It makes me feel nauseous," Regina quipped after a small pause. Then, upon seeing the light in the outlaw's eyes fade a little, she jokingly added, "And me throwing up would be one hell of a mood killer."
They both chuckled, and Robin conceded that, perhaps, he should keep sentimentality to himself—at least until she was a bit more receptive of him. For a short time, he forgot that up until a few weeks earlier, she would have done anything to ensure that the two of them weren't even left in the same room together.
Regina leaned forward and kissed Robin again; trying to re-ignite the passion he had treated her to a few moments ago, before he had started trying to draw emotion out of her. Regina didn't want to feel any emotion; it only made things complicated and attracted heartbreak to her like a beacon.
Regina just wanted to feel Robin inside her, making her come alive. None of this "you almost died" folly; she only wanted him to whisper dirty things in her ear as he made her body shudder and writhe in pleasure.
When she dug her teeth into Robin's bottom lip, dragging her foot up his calf and grabbing the collar of his shirt—which should have been removed ages ago—Regina got her wish. The thief wrapped an arm around her and pulled her on top of him, his other hand coming up to tangle in her hair.
Grinning against his lips in victory, Regina shifted one of her legs to rest in between his, moving her thigh against Robin's hard member until he growled, suddenly hiking her other leg up around his waist and rolling them over. Her features twisted upon a gasp and she shifted away from him.
Robin apologised and gentled his touch, kissing her again before she could mutter anything resembling "I'm fine." Refusing to let Regina deepen the kiss, he let his hands roam over her skin; so lightly that it almost tickled her. As pleasantly tingling as that was, it was just not enough.
The Queen brought her hands up and grasped his face, tilting her head in an attempt to encourage more heat and passion from the thief. But he gave her nothing of the sort, his mouth moving gently over hers and his hands merely holding her instead of grabbing her like she needed him to.
Regina pulled away, closed her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh.
"Robin… I'm not going to break," Regina said, cupping his face and looking him in the eyes, "Take me how you want to."
The outlaw sighed, "I don't want to hurt you."
"I'm alive, Robin." Regina closed her eyes as his forehead met hers, their breath mingling in the small space between their lips. "Prove it to me."
The gentle part of Robin—the part raised to be chivalrous and take care of people—was reluctant to do anything that might cause Regina even the slightest discomfort. But there was a part of Robin that the Queen had set free, a part that wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her, to feel her skin burn under his hands, to hear her gasps and moans in his ear, to make her heart beat so hard that he could see it through her chest…
The gentleman inside him never stood a chance.
"Fine," Robin growled through gritted teeth, hiking her leg up higher, adjusting his hips and then thrusting forward until he was buried in her to the hilt.
Regina couldn't help but cry out "yes!" as her back arched off the bed, her hands moving into his hair and pulling sharply.
Robin smirked, withdrawing almost completely and then thrusting all the way back in. Regina gasped as her eyes closed, her hands coming down on his shoulders and her nails digging into his skin.
"Like that?" Robin asked, an eyebrow raised in cockiness and expectation of her—at least somewhat—regretting the idea of telling him to take her how he wanted to.
So, her breathy response of "yes, just like that" threw him; stopped him just long enough for her to dig her heel in the back of his thigh in a silent demand for him to do it again.
With a determined expression, Robin leaned back and put a hand either side of her shoulders, lifting his weight off her as he thrust once, twice, three more times, before Regina drew her other leg up around his hips and clenched around him. Robin's head fell forward and he groaned into her neck.
Regina's order of "pick up the pace, Robin" was spoken directly into his ear, her warm breath sending a shiver down his spine. She followed it with her hands, her fingers trailing under his shirt—that Regina needed off, but she could not bear the thought of stopping for the few seconds it would take to remove it—and down until she had two handfuls of the outlaw's backside in her palms, squeezing firmly in an effort to motivate him to move his hips quicker.
Robin had missed this.
Yes, it had only happened on two occasions, before—once the first evening, and multiple times the other—but it had been ample opportunity for him to taste the sweet addiction named Regina Mills. And he had missed it dearly.
Six days was far too long.
Robin shifted his weight to lie on one forearm and worked a hand between Regina's back and her sheets, until his fingers touched the dip of her spine. He lifted her hips and started thrusting into her again, and he drew an unroyal gasp of "fuck!" from her parted lips as her legs slipped from his sides to land on the bed.
As his thrusts became more powerful, more erratic, Regina's back arched off the sheets; her hips dipped back down to the bed, until Robin tightened his arm around her and forced her body up to mould against his, to keep that angle that had their breaths hitching and pulses racing.
Robin leaned forward, completely resting against Regina as his arm still supported her hips from where it was pinned between the Queen and her bed. The extra friction of his every thrust against her clit had her hand reaching up behind her to grab the pillow case as she gasped.
"Don't ever do something that stupid again," Robin whispered into her neck. "Please."
Regina's hands moved to rest between his shoulder blades, with a small sigh. "Robin…"
"Promise me," he pleaded, laying a trail of kisses along her jawline. "Just this, and I'll leave it alone. Promise me, Regina."
It was a few seconds before she breathed, "I promise."
It was a lie. He knew it was; if Regina wanted to do something, she would do it—regardless of any agreement. She was just so incredibly stubborn. But, if he at least made her consider that someone actually cared about her before she made any more rash decisions…well, Robin could live with that.
The slightly emotional moment—thankfully—over, Regina rocked her hips and clenched around him, encouraging him to resume the perfect rhythm that had had her gasping and writhing, before he decided to slow it down and try to talk to her. Regina wasn't one for "talks" and especially not when there were much better things to be doing with their mouths than exchanging words.
Bringing a hand up to dig her fingertips into Robin's neck, she brought his head down to meet hers; lips colliding and noses brushing against each other's in a kiss that may have lacked finesse, but set them both alight nonetheless.
Robin dragged his lips away from caressing hers and moved them to her neck, panting into her skin as he brought a hand in between them and thumbed at her clit, drawing a pleasured cry from the Queen.
Regina gasped out "Robin…", but then trailed off as she whimpered and her hands scratched at his back, trying to find purchase.
Robin just about managed to grunt out "what?" in question, before he bit into her neck to stifle a loud groan.
Her response was lost in the climb toward her peak. All words were blocked from her mind as she felt wave after wave of pleasure wash over her, tightening the coil inside her until she could barely breathe.
Robin raised himself back onto his forearms, holding back on his release to watch Regina; the flush spreading over her skin, the crinkles around her eyes as they screwed shut and the indentations she made in her lip as she dug in her teeth into it, in order to prevent herself from crying out.
She was stunning.
Regina's throaty moan of "Robin," pushed him over the edge, and he was unable to stop himself from burying himself into her a few more times before he stilled, quietly groaning as he rolled to the side, his eyes closing as he slowly let out a sigh through pursed lips.
It took them both a short while to recover; Robin resting on his back, turning his head to watch Regina as she lay with an arm over her forehead, eyes closed and trying to calm her breathing and heart rate.
Robin could only watch for a few seconds before he sighed and turned his gaze to the ceiling with a frown. He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when this became something more than a distraction to him, but from the sudden intensity of his need to protect her, to keep her safe and smiling that beautiful smile of hers, he knew it must have been a while ago. And it had not been by choice.
But he just couldn't find it in himself to wish that he felt differently.
