AN: This story is rated M for a reason. XOXO, Jess
EDIT: Thank you so much to the guest reviewer who pointed out a couple inconsistencies in this chapter with the last one! That's what I get for posting at 3 a.m. It's all fixed now! I love constructive criticism, and you helped me make this chapter better! Thanks!
Sisters and Soul Mates
The Night Before Regina Ran from the Tent
Not long after they leave the comfort of the campfire and slowly burning embers, Robin and Regina duck into his tent. They're tentative at first, a little bit nervous around the other, because they know what's coming next. They've been building toward it for weeks, and yet they've silently agreed to not push each other too far, past boundaries they're not quite ready to cross, or more importantly past lines Regina isn't quite ready to cross.
She tells him she is, wants him, needs him, is already wet for him when they move from just inside his tent to the cushion of furs and solid ground beneath them, Robin propped up on his forearms above her, one leg between her thighs, the friction of their clothes grinding teasingly against where their bodies really want to connect.
But he knows the gravity and haunting truths sex carries for her – a twisted power play, and, in darker forms, a tool for punishment, for commanding obedience, for breaking her strong will. He knows about Leopold, knows about that first night he stole into her bedchamber for her to perform her duties as his wife – the Child Bride, barely ten and eight years of age, just days after she watched her fiancé get his heart ripped out. And he knows about all the times thereafter that the king laid with her, tries not to think about the innocent doe-eyed expression he notes on her face every once in a while she's playing with Roland, the comment that slipped off Snow's tongue one day, recalling a younger version of Regina that saved her life, so full of hope and joy. He imagines that was all taken from her the day a crown was forced upon her head. It makes his blood boil and his stomach churn, because he knows that she didn't choose that path for herself, not at first anyways – manipulated by a mentor and a mother and a king who all wielded their power over a young girl's head, threatened her freedom and those she loved and her body until she had no choice but to follow. He knows that each of them left her after they took what they wanted, using her as a means to satisfy and feed a lust-filled hunger, a conquest of sorts. And he won't have her thinking that's what this is, because it's not, far from it.
Tonight, instead of sheathing himself inside her like he really wants, he'll show her just how much this is about them, her and him, together by pouring love (even if Regina isn't ready to call what they have love) into her.
Robin breaks his mouth away from hers and brushes her hair away from her face, staring longingly into her eyes.
"What?" she asks, lips plump and red from where he was just tugging at her skin. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"You truly have no idea how stunning you are? Do you?" he husks into the air between them, leaning in again to capture her lips, crushing his mouth to hers. She blushes and tries to turn her head away from him to hide the rosiness appearing on her cheeks, but he caresses her jaw line and pulls her gaze back to meet his.
A devious smirk appears on her face, and Regina presses their sexes together, rubs at the hardness forming beneath layers of clothing.
"You're not playing fair, milady," he says with a sharp intake of breath.
"I'm not trying to play fair," she responds, grinding her hips back up against his, eliciting a groan from his lips. The sound vibrates into her mouth as their tongues come back together.
Robin slips his hand beneath the laces at the front of her dress and kneads her breast. Regina mews approvingly. They're nothing but breathy panting, and dry humping hips, and moaning for multiple minutes, snogging and making out, and creating a friction between them that begs to be paid more attention.
"I promised you–" Robin takes a labored gasp. "That when we did this– when I finally filled you–" he kisses her passionately, runs his tongue along her bottom lip. "When I finally made love to you–" he claims her mouth again and trails kisses to the soft space behind her ear. "It wouldn't just be about sex, Regina. I want to show you how much you mean to me."
Robin lathes his tongue up her neck, and he sucks on Regina's earlobe and then focuses his attention down, down, down, hiking up her skirt, and pulling aside her smallclothes. He pauses for a moment, looks up into her eyes for permission, and she ardently nods. He focuses his attention back on her folds, swipes one finger from top to bottom, receiving a slight buck from Regina at the new sensation. He grins and makes her lay all the way back down, presses one hand low on her belly, nudges his nose against her clit, and breathes her in before slowly flicking his tongue over her clit. She gasps, and he keeps moving his mouth against her, swirling, and suckling, and gently grazing his teeth over sensitive flesh, asking her all the while if this is okay, is this alright, may he touch her, may he taste her? and it is more than okay, more than alright. Regina urges him on as he slips a finger inside her exploringly, growls low when she responds in kind, his face blocked from her view, head buried beneath heavy fabric between her spread legs, pads of her feet anchored down, knees bent, and held apart by his shoulders.
It has been a long time since someone has done this to her, fucked her with their fingers and rubbed the swollen bud, pulsating between her legs the way that Robin is now. She can't remember when anyone cared to pay so much attention to making her squirm and feel and undulate beneath loving touches. Because that's what this is right? That's what he's trying to show her? That he loves her? That he cares for her? Robin's affection and another vigorous, electric suck on her clit bring tears to her eyes, and she whimpers. He inserts a second finger and starts a rhythm that pools fire in her belly, nips at the inside of her thigh and places open-mouthed kisses across her skin until he exchanges his thumb with his tongue, begins to suckle and lap and lick, drawing a sharp inhaled gasp from her throat as he turns his palm up and massages that spot inside her that makes her back arch off the pile of furs and blankets.
"Oh God–" she moans, panting and writhing in time with his ministrations. "Just there– don't stop–" she has a hard time remembering to breathe, all thoughts consumed by him and the current he sends shooting through her body as he pulls out, fingers slick, covered in her, and adds a third, stretching her, rotating his wrist, thrusting in and up, and in just the right spot, again, and again, and again.
She starts whimpering incessantly now and fists her hands in the furs, her hips bucking in response to the deliciously appreciated girth, the new pressure building to break and crash, and burn her up. She orgasms with a strangled cry, shouts I love you in her head, muscles clenching around his skilled fingers, and he greedily continues to eat her out, until she forcefully stills his hand when it becomes too much and pulls his head up to meet hers, tastes herself on his lips.
Everything is frenzied after that, they pant into each other, share hot mingling breaths, and she fumbles with his belt and yanks down his trousers until he is free, hard and throbbing, and achingly erect.
"Regina–" he tries. "Wait, this is about–" But he can't get the rest out, words catch in his throat as she slides her hand around him and pumps languidly, strokes up and down.
"This is about us," she breathes into his ear as he presses his forehead to hers and groans. "That's what you said–" she exhales and cups his balls. "So now, it's my turn to show you at least a little bit of how much you mean to me, too."
Robin shivers when she rubs beading cum off the tip of his penis with her thumb, hiding how much she arouses him proves difficult.
"You're not–" his breath hitches, "making this easy, Regina."
"On the contrary, I think this is quite easy. Don't you?" She grins, swallowing his groans and grunts with searing kiss after searing kiss.
Robin doesn't last long, hips sporadically jolting forward into her firm grip around him, already worked up from feasting and listening to her moan and gasp because of him. He comes in Regina's hand with a guttural sound that rips from deep within his chest, cries her name, and says I love you in his head, after a few more fast, rough strokes and sloppy kisses, collapses on top of her, and it takes them a while to calm down, for their heart rates to return to normal, their flushed skin to cool. Minutes tick by, and he rolls over, lifts his hips off the floor, and pulls up his pants, fastening his belt, and then he surprises her by pulling her to him in the dark, grabs one of his old tunics and helps her clean his stickiness off her palm and out from between her fingers. He casts the shirt away from them, and tightens his embrace around her. They fall asleep like that, with his arm wrapped behind her back, her head buried in the crook of his shoulder, both still clothed and sweatier and more sated than before, the room filled only by their quiet breathing. When exhaustion takes her, she can still feel her pulse beating in her core.
In the morning, Regina wakes up, smelling like sex, feeling safe, and happy in Robin's arms, a pleased smile on her face. She slowly begins to rouse, angles her face toward the sun's rays streaming in through Robin's tent, revels in the warmness of his chest against her back, one arm wraps around her, holding her to him, and the other under her neck. She wonders if his arm has fallen asleep from her laying on it, but he doesn't seem bothered. She feels the rise and fall of his chest and knows he's still sleeping deeply. She shifts to move deeper in his embrace, and he moves with her, his sleeve inching up to reveal a bit of black ink. She brushes her thumb along the edge of it, the corner shimmers, faintly green like dust, her brow furrows, that was clearly magic, it reminds her of something she's seen before but can't quite place her finger on, so she pushes the cuff back to get a better look and reveals the full hidden mark, curiosity getting the best of her, and that's when she freezes, when her eyes lock in on the clear outlines of a crest. She begins to panic, needs to get out of the room before the walls close in on her, memories from the past flashing through her mind.
Pixie dust. The green was pixie dust.
Regina eases out of Robin's arms, careful not to wake him, feet unsteady as she stands, half from the throbbing she still feels between her legs, half from the fact that her apparent soul mate has been right in front of her, wooing her, charming her, annoying her, saving her from herself this whole time. She gasps as the brisk morning air hits her lungs, no time to adjust or get warm or slowly wake up and acclimate from the coziness of the tent to the chilly winter bite. She pauses just outside, let's the flap close behind her, inhales and exhales deeply, trying to prevent herself from hyperventilating. She feels like a deer caught in a hunter's gaze, very unlike her usual self, very unlike the moniker and predator she's known across the realms as, her reputation falling short at the moment. Her clothes are wrinkled from last night's activities, hair wild and out of place from heavy panting, and petting, and Robin pulling cries from her throat as he went down on her in their spell-cast tent, no cry of pleasure or moan of approval heard passed canvas walls.
Regina chokes out a sob, realization vacuuming all the oxygen out of the air. Never going into that tavern led her down the path to becoming the Evil Queen, a villain who murdered countless, faceless victims, and in the process of seeking her revenge she abandoned the possibility of a happy ending. And worse, this path she took led Robin down a new one as well, diverged from fate to fall in love with a woman who would bare him a son only to die shortly thereafter. A son who then never knew his mother. All of them have experienced heartache and loss and tragedy, and Regina can't help but feel partly responsible. She could have been happy. They could have been happy. Roland could have been hers. Before, when thinking about the decisions she made in the past, she always clung to the fact that it all brought her Henry, it all brought her a beautiful, little prince, but now – now – now she doesn't even have him. Her son is gone, lost to her forever, memories wiped clean.
The heart in her chest races, pounds against bone and tissue, pumps blood more quickly throughout her body, adrenaline releases, and she feels the urge to run again, to whip through trees and disappear from sight, find a place of solitude where she can tremble and shake alone, without worrying about the concerned or fearful gazes of others. Regina's hands are out in front of her, palms facing the ground, a slight tremor overtakes her fingers, and she closes her eyes, trying to pull herself together, but it's not working. She needs to get out of here. She takes one hesitant step forward and then moves, making her way past a group of people gathered around the fire pit, drinking warm beverages and talking in hushed tones. She hears her name being called, but she doesn't stop.
Not until she's alone, until she can let the tears fall freely, until she can scream out into the open, and rip her hair out at ruining her own chances at happiness once again.
Regina collapses in a heap on the riverbank, seems to be the place she gravitates toward most now, a tranquil place to think. She cups water into her hands and splashes it on her face, drying off with the edge of her dress skirt.
A young, desperately lonely queen, fairies and pixie dust, Robin's arms around her, second chances and destiny, Roland's dimpled cheeks, soul mates and faith, you didn't just ruin your life, you ruined his, her Henry's joyous laughter and the way he called her momma, taverns and the man with the lion tattoo, a life before anger and dark magic tainted her heart black.
"Regina!" an annoying voice chirps behind her, light footfalls and swishing of fabric shuffle undergrowth, alerting her to Snow's approach. "What are you doing? I called you, and you just kept going."
Regina's nails dig deep into her palm. Her jaw clenches, she whips her head around, hair fanning out and bites, "Why are you always following me?"
Snow tilts her head to the side and looks at the woman on the ground. "Because you're always running away," she posits sadly.
"Because I'm always getting hurt!" she shouts back and moves to stand.
Snow smiles and knowingly asks, "What happened?" The princess isn't blind, has watched Regina slowly bond with the archer and his son, timidly at first and then quickly, hard to not fall for dimples and persistent friendship and attentiveness. Their encounters first filled with smartass remarks and sassy quips, fiery tempers and witty insults, but Snow knows Regina is attached to Robin and Roland, knows that there's a part of her that wants to let herself love them openly even if she can't admit it internally or to anyone else.
Although, maybe they have, maybe she did, maybe Robin climbed a barricade when no one else could. The tension between them really appeared to change after Regina risked her life to save Roland's. Robin never left her side, stayed near her tent every night until she was well again, checking on her during the day, bringing her tea, and new clothes, and flowers, and biscuits and milk.
"If I wanted to share with you and partake in girl talk, I would have come to you. But I didn't, I came here. For peace and quiet. Is that really so hard for you to grasp?" Regina scoffs. "I don't want your help, Snow."
"Then what do you want?" she persists. "Do you want me to get Granny? Or David? Or better yet Robin? Because I'm not leaving here until you talk to someone."
"Why is it so important to you that I talk to anyone?"
"Because when you don't talk to someone, you let things fester. And I'm not going to let you do that this time. Not after you've come so far."
"Pfft, and what do you care about how far I've come?"
"Regina, we all care. Not because we're afraid of the Evil Queen or what you might do to us. We're well past that by now. We care about you, what happens to you. I care, David cares, Granny cares, Whale – even when he's a drunken fool – cares, Belle and Ruby," the princess argues. "But I think that most importantly, Robin and a very cute little boy care about what happens to you."
She snaps her head up at that, glares daggers at Snow. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," she replies harshly.
"Are you out here because of them? Did something happen?"
"No."
"Something did, didn't it?"
"No."
"Well, now I know you're lying."
"Really? And how do you presume to know that?"
"Because you didn't have some snarky remark ready, you just replied no."
Regina balks and turns away from her, and Snow studies her shoulders as they rise and fall with each exaggerated breath. She knows this can't be easy for Regina, being separated from Henry, and traveling with a band of people that for all intents and purposes used to wish her dead or imprisoned, even Snow can't believe how far they've come every so often. But she doesn't want her to give up, doesn't want her to close herself off again.
"Regina, I've seen what life has thrown at you. And you still fight against the darkness every single day," she says, continuing gently, hoping she's on the right track, hoping she's read Regina's body language right, hoping her instincts are correct and this is about Robin. "That's what it means to be the most resilient. And sooner or later, if you let it, your heart will find its way to happiness."
"No, I ruined my chance at a happy ending a long time ago," Regina whispers, so softly that Snow almost misses her response. "And I ruined his."
"Robin's?" she shakes her head and walks over to Regina, places her hand on her shoulder and makes her look at her. "What are you talking about?"
And in a rare moment, Snow sees something in Regina crack. She lowers them both to the ground and holds her hands. Regina furrows her brow and flinches, but she doesn't pull away. They sit there in the dirt until the sun is high above them, everyone surely up and at'em back at camp, getting ready for lunch. Tears glisten in Regina's eyes, and she licks her lips and swallows saliva pooling in her mouth, tells Snow about Tinkerbell, and the tavern, and the man with the lion tattoo, and then confesses what she discovered upon waking.
"It was Robin? After all this time, and you still ran?"
"It's not that simple," Regina retorts.
"I think it is. Why does the tattoo have you so freaked out? Shouldn't that make you happier, you've found your soul mate. The two of you were fine before. I know you slept in his tent last night and have been more regularly," she pauses when Regina glares at her indignantly. "No, I'm not inferring anything by that. I just meant that you both spend an awful lot of time together, and Regina, you were positively smitten yesterday. What are you afraid of?"
"Everything!" she bellows, throwing her hands up into the air. "Snow, it's real now. It's not just puppy love or a crush or– what if something happens? What if he or Roland gets hurt? It doesn't matter what I do, I'm always the villain in someone else's eyes, even when I'm not, there are plenty of people out there who want to hurt me. What if they do something to one of them to get to me? I couldn't live with that."
"But, Regina, I've seen the way he looks at you. And I know you, and you feel things deeply, you feel things with your whole soul. You can't just walk away from that, not after finding him again after all this time. You wanted a second chance, well, you have it. He's right there. He's back at camp, and I'm fairly certain he loves you. Don't let anything hold you back. Trust your instincts. What is your heart telling you to do, not your head?"
"I–" but Regina doesn't have time to finish, her attention grabbed by a black plume rising thickly above the tree tops in the distance. Snow follows her gaze and looks over her shoulder.
"Regina, what is that?" she asks, and they both stand up.
"I don't know," she responds and steps past her, looking at the billowing
smoke. Regina senses something, a feeling in the pit of her stomach that settles in deep. Something is terribly wrong. They need to get back. "Snow, we need to–" her words are cut off when a searing pain rips through her arm. She cries out and clutches at her burning skin, rolls up her sleeve and sees crimson rivers flowing out of a gash from the crook of her elbow to just above her wrist, missing precious arteries. She applies pressure and covers it with her hand, blood seeping out between her fingers.
"Oh my God, Regina!" Snow grabs her arm to inspect it, but when Regina takes her hand away, there's nothing there. It aches, but there's nothing there. "Wait– what–"
They both look up and stare at each other in confusion, and then Regina whispers, "Robin." Her eyes dart toward the smoke and into the trees. "Snow, we need to get back. Something is wrong."
Regina doesn't know how, but she knows Robin is injured, that gash is his.
Regina and Snow dash into camp to a sea of sweaty faces and chaos. There are trees on fire, arrows flying toward screeching simian beasts, men shouting, and women screaming. Smoke burns their lungs, and the once Evil Queen and her former enemy are forced to defend each other immediately – no time to think about any other option. Each easily arms with their weapon of choice – Snow, the bow at her back, and Regina, fireballs that instinctively form in her palm.
It's not pleasant, the smell of singed monkey hair and searing flesh, but Regina never hesitates, keeps moving and spinning around as winged creatures attack them from above. Between hitting her marks and catching glimpses of Snow notching more and more arrows, she frantically searches for Roland and Robin. Her eardrums are pierced by sharp high-pitched yells and grotesque growls. Another beast flies in behind her unnoticed and violently squalls; she whirls around, the distance between her and its bacteria ridden fangs much too close for her liking. Claws reach out for her, she has her hand up, fire at the ready, about to throw it forward, when an arrow with a familiar white fletching and stripped notch buries deep in the vermin's side.
"Regina!" Much exclaims, notching another arrow, taking out another winged beast.
"Much, where is he?" She asks desperately over the roaring sound of flames consuming canvas and pine and anything else that it touches. Regina trips over the hem of her skirt as she stumbles closer to the small man.
"The Wicked Witch! She's here. Last I saw, he and Prince David were trying to get the upper hand. Regina, they need help!"
She nods, and they keep fighting, back to back, covering each other. Much is one of the few Merry Men who accepted her into their company without qualm. Robin trusted her, so Much trusted her, as easy as that, loyalty to a degree she had never seen, even during her reign as Queen.
"Where's Roland?!" she yells as they both run and skid to a halt before a falling tree can crush them. Timber splinters apart and embers fly, wracking their lungs in a coughing fit as ash and dust kick up and out like an atomic wave.
"Granny has him!"
Thank God, Regina knows the old woman will keep him safe. They move again, weave in and out of the path of fire as it desolates this part of Sherwood Forest.
"Regina! Can't you stop this?! Don't you know some spell or enchantment? The smoke is getting too thick!" Much pulls the collar of his shirt up to cover his mouth, wheezing and coughing and trying to catch his breath.
He's right. She knows he's right. They can't keep running through this, and she can't let the fire burn everything, already the blaze is reaching a point where it will soon be uncontainable. She nods and thinks back to a time when Rumple taught her how to call on weather.
Much watches her as she stretches her hands out, mumbling words under her breath, words he can't make out, words that sound foreign and ancient on the Queen's tongue, purple wisps appear on her fingertips, magic crackling through the atmosphere. The sky rolls above them and darkens to a stormy grey, wind flickers flame and whips Regina's hair about her face. Another monkey flies in from the left and drives toward Regina. Much pulls back the string of his bow and shoots it down before it can reach her. She closes her eyes and concentrates harder, listens as three more arrow fly one right after the other. A dampness settles in the air, wet droplets start falling, pitter pattering on the ground, on their faces, sizzling embers and cleaning dirt off their skin, and the heavens open up and it pours, drenching them, soaking them to the bone, but the fire dies and water mixes with ash, and dirt, and relieved tears, the heat at the necks abating.
It doesn't take Regina long to find Robin after that, rain beating down for a few more minutes before she mumbles the other have of the spell. She and Much run into the clearing, the focal point of their encampment, and he's there, just as soaked as they are, but there's blood staining through the sleeve of his white, linen shirt, running down his arm in streams and dripping off his fingertips.
"Robin!" Regina shouts, picking up her pace and stumbling over a root to get to him. Water trails through grim and black ash on his face, he looks tired and ready to drop. He meets her eyes, wipes his brow off with his uninjured arm, and makes his way toward her when to her horror, he disappears in a cloud of green smoke.
An amused cackle cuts through the air behind her, and Regina whirls around. Robin appears next to a woman dressed in a black garment that Regina recognizes as her own. He's choking on nothing, hands prying at an invisible grip, his toes barely kicking at the forest floor.
Green skin, fiery red hair, flying monkeys, a broom grasped in the woman's hand. Regina doesn't need anymore proof that the person standing in front of her is the Wicked Witch.
"Wonderful little show you put on there, snuffing out all my fires. Did you not like my welcoming gift?" The woman smiled with an unsettling gleam in her eyes. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. You weren't even going to come to the castle and say hello first, were you? It's not exactly the return home I was expecting, Regina. What does a witch have to do to get your attention?" She asks, knowing she already has Regina on edge.
"I tend not to pay attention to people I don't care about," Regina responds, and then clenches her fists when the grip on Robin's neck tightens. He struggles against the force suffocating him, can't breath, his fingers try to pry off the magical bind constricting his airway. She winces and takes a step toward them.
"Ah, ah, ah," she waves her finger back and forth and tilts her head to the side. "What's the matter? Has the Queen gone and fallen for a common thief? Oh dear, what would Cora say?" She scolds her mockingly.
Regina's gaze doesn't leave the Wicked Witch, doesn't flinch or put words to what Robin means to her, doesn't pretend he's nothing, or that he didn't pull smiles and laughter and love out of her before she saw the mark on his arm. After being back in this cursed land for over a month now, he and his dimple-cheeked son without much effort broke through to her heart, it would be wrong to deny what they've become to her, anchors and tethers, keeping her alive, giving her hope, and a reason to live. So she won't, but she won't give this person, literally holding her soul mates life in their hands, more fuel for their fire either. Instead, Regina ignores the witch's question and asks one of her own.
"What would you know about my mother?" she scoffs and straightens to full height.
The green-skinned woman narrows her eyes at her, the hold on Robin eases, and he is able to breathe easier, but she does not release him from her magical hold. The witch walks closer to Regina. "You really don't know who I am, do you?"
"I know exactly who you are," Regina spits, as they both size the other up. "The Wicked Witch."
"Is that all?" She almost pouts.
Regina's attention shifts back to Robin, still hanging in the air, his eyes on hers. She reluctantly pulls her focus away from him. "I'm not that interested. Now, if it's a fight with me you want fine, but release him."
"Oh dearie, not when I still need your attention," she cackles and smirks. "Please, allow me to introduce myself. You can call me Zelena."
"Fine, Zelena. Now release him."
"Oh, I don't know, I think I just might keep this one for myself. I could always use another beautiful pet," she replies, with a nod to the sky where monkeys soar above and perch in the branches. She gives Regina a small calculating grin. "Don't you think?
"I think you should've used a better face mask, because whatever you're using now isn't working."
Zelena grinds her teeth together and purses her lips. "Well, that wasn't very nice, dearie. You can have your little thief back, if you want him so badly. I was just having a look around. Besides, I've already seen everything worth seeing. Your castle, your gardens, your wardrobe. Oh, and Cora's crypt." She turns and appears magically in a puff of green smoke next to Robin.
"Yes, how did you break the blood lock?"
"I didn't."
"That's not possible, no one's that powerful," Regina shakes her head, taking a few steps to the right to circle around Zelena so she can get closer to Robin. Much and Little John are twenty paces behind the witch with a few of the other Merry Men. Snow and David are flanked to Regina's right, more people gathering nearer with each passing second.
"Cora really never told you," Zelena says.
"Told me what?"
"The truth about us, Regina."
Regina chuckles, "What are you talking about? And, how do you know my mother?"
"Same way you do." Zelena walks up to Regina, and she holds her ground. Leaning toward her, a breath away, she tells her, "I'm your sister."
Regina is taken aback. Of all the things she was expecting that was not one of them.
Zelena's revelation has the desired effect on Regina, and she saunters back toward the thief still struggling against her magical hold. She shrugs and grins. "Actually, half-sister. But, details, details."
"That's not possible," Regina counters. "You're green."
"And you're rude. Cora had me first. Before she found her way into the dregs of royalty. Well, you know I'm telling the truth. How else could I have broken the door to the crypt? Our mother gave me up and sent me away. But you, you she kept. You she gave everything."
"Everything she wanted," Regina corrects. "If what you're saying is true, then you were lucky to escape her."
"You really don't appreciate what you have, do you? You see, I strive for things. I work. You," Zelena looks around her and scoffs. "You cast a curse that was just a fancy form of running away. With every advantage, you still turn your back on every opportunity for happiness. You, Regina— you just don't take risks; you don't live your life. It's such a waste."
At that remark, Regina does flinch. "You have no idea what I've been through."
Zelena rolls her eyes. "Enough of the martyr complex, Regina. Try growing up without a mother. Try living in Oz, knowing that no one thought you were good enough. Not your mother. And not the only man that our paths both crossed. Rumplestiltskin."
Regina's face lights with realization. Finally, this was getting somewhere. "You knew Rumplestiltskin?"
"Did you think you were his only student?"
"Let me guess. You're mad, because he chose me to cast his curse. Well, get over it. It wasn't everything it was cracked up to be."
Much and John inch their way closer to Robin, and two monkeys screech at their approach so the Merry Men back off.
"Anything would have been better than the life I had," Zelena argues. "But, despite my shortcomings, I made something of myself, dear. And I didn't need Cora. Or Rumplestiltskin."
"It's too bad they're not around to see how well you've turned out. They're both dead."
That seems to shock Zelena, something she hadn't apparently learned during all her time spent spying.
"That's alright. You're the only one I need alive."
"Really? Why is that?"
"Because I'm going to take everything away from you."
That wouldn't have felt as threatening before, but now it is with people she cares about sprouting up all over the places like weeds in her front yard.
"So, what? Are going to kill me?" She could only hope, anything else and a number of people were bound to get hurt.
"No, that would be too easy," Zelena says. "For me to get what I want I need you to suffer. You see, what's in store for me is all my dreams being realized. But for you– well, it's a fate worse than death," she sneers, disappears in a cloud of green, and whispers into Regina's ear, "Besides, why would I want to kill you, when I know just how to hurt you." Zelena tightens her hand into a fist and squeezes, Robin gasps, oxygen leaving his airway, Regina shouts for her to stop, and Zelena knows she's won. "Better enjoy your soulmate while you can, Sis," she whispers so no one else can hear. And with that Zelena sneers and flies into the sky, her minions trailing after her, as soon as she's gone Robin slumps to the floor, gasping for breath.
Regina rushes toward him, falls down on her knees, and grasps at his face, pulling his chin into her hand so she can look at him, runs her eyes over cuts and forming bruises. Mud and water seep into her clothes, but she doesn't care, only cares about him.
He takes in shaky, raspy breaths and says her name. It's quiet and broken, but his lovely, accented voice warms her heart and brings tears to her eyes. She inspects the gash on his arm, but he says, "I'm fine. No worse for wear," and she vehemently disagrees, uses magic to clean out the cut and bind it shut until Doc can look at it. She puts her hand behind his neck and pulls his lips to meet hers, kissing him urgently, forgetting for a moment that they're not alone, there are people around, staring awe-struck people with their mouths hanging open, staring pleased-with-themselves people with grins on their faces.
Robin deepens the kiss, grips firmly to her arms, and presses her to him. He threads his fingers through her wet, tangled hair and groans pleasantly into her mouth. When they break for air, Regina vaguely hears Leroy say, "Nothing to see here, people. Get a move on, get a move on," finally the dwarf is good for something. Robin touches his forehead to hers and then lifts his head to kiss her temple. He pulls her into a fierce hug, and she buries her face in the crook of his neck.
Regina trembles and struggles to breathe, but she sniffs and refuses to shed another tear. She mumbles into his shoulder, "God, I thought– I didn't know what she would do to you. I thought I would never see you again."
Robin combs knots out of her hair with his fingers, and then stills his hand. He leans away from Regina so he can look at her.
"You're exhausting, you know that," he states.
"Excuse me," she responds, her nose scrunches up.
"You ran from the tent?" He questions, but doesn't let her answer, wipes a bit of dirt off her cheek, but it doesn't really help, they're both filthy from battle. "Do you have any idea how terrified I was when the Wicked Witch showed up and I didn't know where you were. She was looking for you, and when I woke, you were gone. You keep doing that. You keep running."
"I'm not running now," she tells him.
"Why did you run in the first place?" He asks.
No holding back now.
"Because of Daniel, because I thought–" she begins, but he stops her.
"Regina, we've talked about this. I'm not going anywhere. I know you're afraid, but let me in, don't push me away."
"I know, and I shouldn't have run. You're right, but there's something I haven't told you yet. A short time after Daniel died, I was– that is– Leopold and Snow were gone very often, traveling across the realm to visiting neighboring kingdoms, and I was left alone. I felt more like the Queen of nothing than the Queen of the Enchanted Forest, all I had to keep me company was my anger. One night while they were away, I– I almost died. But a fairy saved me, and she told me I could find happiness again, that I could love again. She led me to this tavern, to a man who she said I was destined to be with. I never saw his face. But…" Regina pushes the sleeve of his shirt up covering his uninjured arm, revealing the lion and crest inked in black. "I did see his tattoo."
"It was me?"
"Yes. I was just too scared to approach you."
"So this morning, you saw my tattoo, and you ran?" He guesses, and she nods, confirming his suspicions. "Why?"
"It made it real. I already know how I feel about you, but seeing that tattoo, feeling it under my fingertips, It– Robin, your fate was sealed to mine. You never had a choice in choosing me, the decision was made for you because of a pixie's prophecy."
"You foolish woman."
"What?"
"You don't understand, do you?" She frowns at him, a little crinkle forming on her brow, and then his face softens and a serious tone takes his voice. "You've really no idea," he says it so matter a factly. "Regina," he begins, lifts her chin up so he can make sure she's looking at him. He doesn't think about the words flowing out of his mouth next, just says, "I love you. I love your stubbornness, and the way you tilt your head to the side when you're really listening to me, like you are now, when I've said something that strikes a chord in your heart. I love the way you make my son laugh, and the way we challenge each other." He cups her cheeks and brushes a strand of hair away from her forehead with the pad of his middle finger. "I love you. And it's nothing to do with pixie dust or fate or this cursed ink on my arm, and it's not because I owe you a debt for saving my son's life."
A tear slips down Regina's cheek, and he wipes it away with his thumb. "I've seen the way you've struggled with trying to be the best version of yourself ... for Henry, and for Snow and David, even though you're still not likely to admit how much you actually care for those two. I know how much your son's absence pains you. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost Roland, and yet ... you've not let the sadness consume you. It tried. But you fought. That's honorable, Regina, and it's one of the reasons why I fell in love with you, why I am in love with."
Regina is on the edge. Her eyes blur from unshed tears, her bottom lip quivers, and she doesn't trust her voice to speak in that moment, so she doesn't. Instead she mirrors his previous movements and places her small hands on either side of his face before pulling him down to her and crashing her lips in his, earnestly and then gently before pausing to inhale. She meets his eyes and rubs her thumb over the stubble on his chin.
Tears escape out the corners of her eyes, a lump stuck in her throat. Both of her hands are on either side of Robin's face now, they're both covered in grime.
"Regina–" Robin continues.
But she silences him with a wet, open-mouthed kiss, breaks away and says, "When I saw Zelena choking you, I thought, I did this. I keep ruining my own happiness, but the thing is, I don't want to do that anymore, Robin. I don't want to run. I want to stay, you make me want to stay," she admits, and then says three little words that he has been dying to hear. "I love you," she whispers, her forehead touches his, their lips centimeters apart, sharing the air between them. "I love you."
He bites his lower lip and grins, positively beaming.
"I love you, too."
Later in the evening, once new shelters and fresh canvas tents from the market village are set up and everyone eats supper, Robin and Regina walk hand-in-hand until they reach a small sandbar by the river. The sun starts setting in glorious rays of pink, purple, orange and blue. Roland is tucked safely in bed under the watchful eye of Granny, not a creature nor insect shall get to him least it wants to go up against her first.
"Do you recognize this place?" Robin asks Regina.
"Should I?" She inquires.
"That right there," he points, "Is where I pulled you from the water, where you almost drowned."
This was their place – the place where he saved her, a place where he now came to sort out things in his mind, a place he visited quite often, alone to mull over and process what he was thinking, but now he believes it's important to be here with Regina.
"Not easily forgotten," she says. "I don't exactly light a candle and commemorate the day I broke two ribs."
"Hmm, yes, I suppose one would choose not to remember that particular unfortunate occurrence," he chimes. "How are your ribs?"
He looks down at her and smiles.
"Mmm, stronger than ever," Regina replies, chuckling because her two bones healed weeks ago.
They're quiet after that, no need for a single word to be spoken. He can see in Regina's eyes that she understands why they're here at the spot where everything changed between them. He clasps her hand and draws her down to sit beside him. So much has happened to them in the last few months – the river, the friction between the townspeople of Storybrooke and the Merry Men, Zelena, two near death experiences, their first meeting in the woods, and most importantly their declarations of love to each other.
Robin places his arm around her, and she rests her head on his shoulder before moving so she can sit between his legs, leans her back against his chest. They watch the sunset together, listen as crickets chirp and the moon slowly rises while the sky shines orange still. Colors gradually deepen, casting glorious light and magnificent shadows across the landscape. A pair of white doves coo in the branches behind them. Robin's heart beats in tune with Regina's, their breathing synchronized. She shifts in her seat and leans more heavily against him, inclines her neck so she can look at his face. A smile brightens her expression, and he leans down to kiss her, hands rub up and down her arms.
Suddenly he wants her badly and finds it difficult to control his mind and body. He runs his fingers down her side and then tightened his hold on her before lightly moving his kisses to her neck, gauging her reaction. She trembles and sighs, then seems to melt into him, enjoying their closeness. His touch grows more tender and intimate, and he sucks on her throat until a red mark appears, blood vessels broken. Regina moans, and he swirls his tongue soothingly over the abrasion. Her heart starts to race as she begins to think about the possibilities of taking him here, out in the forest, far enough away from camp that no one would stumble upon them.
God, she wants that, wants to feel him inside her, wants to ride him until they're both out of breath, gasping and groaning and coming.
"Regina, I think…" he says before pausing, his voice husky with want. Robin pulls another groan from her throat as he slips the sleeve of her dress down so he can place kisses along her exposed collarbone, not finishing his sentence. His fingers find their way to her side, right against her breast but not quite. Regina brings his head back up to meet hers and this kiss is far from chaste and within seconds, he catches up with her enthusiastically.
Regina's lips are warm and mold to his perfectly. He quickly parts his mouth to allow her tongue to slide in and tangle with his. They shift positions several times, moving at different angles before finding the most comfortable one as they delve and taste one another, kissing and snogging and breathing heavily. Robin weaves his fingers through her hair, and Regina looks up at him from beneath her lashes. He sweep a strands back behind her ear and places a kiss just there, on that sensitive spot of her neck.
"I believe I should take you back to camp, M'lady." He mumbles the term of endearment against her flesh. Kisses there and nips as she tilts her head back to allow him better access.
Regina groans and then answers in a breathy whisper, "Must we?"
Mmmm. He sucks a little harder at her pulse point. "I'm not quite sure–" another kiss at her neck "the forest floor tis the best place–" another on her lips "for us to first do this..."
She hums, sidles a little closer and wraps her arms around his shoulders as he continues to nuzzle and pay attention to when exactly she gasps in delight. "Maybe you're right," she moans. Though, Robin isn't really paying attention to what Regina is saying, his mind a little preoccupied with a torrent of sensations – the soft skin of her neck under his lips, the way she smells of vanilla, her fingertips running shivers up and down his spine as her nails drag over his scalp. The only thing he's consciously aware of is the fact that he wants to tangle his fingers in the strands of her long, beautiful hair and kiss her until they're both too exhausted to move.
Suddenly Regina's fingers are pushing aside his cloak and untying the string at the front of his shirt. He clasps her hands in his, holding them still. "Regina, if you're not comfortable out here..."
She quiets him with her fingertips on his lips. "I plan on making love to you. Do you have a problem with that?"
He bites his bottom lip, attempting to contain the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth with her audacious words. "Not a problem, no. However, the temperature seems to be dropping rather quickly."
She leans forward and places a light kiss on his lips before assuring, "I'll keep you warm. I promise." She purrs and starts shifting, and Robin grips her hips, helps her straddles his waist, keeps her right where she is, pressed against him entirely. He smirks, brings her lips down to his, she grinds forward, and his hands slid up to cup her breasts through the fabric of her dress.
"You feel so marvelous," he tells her, whispers it right into her ear.
"Do you want me?" She asks him, her hands running over his stomach, up to his chest and she tugs until he raises his arms and rips his shirt over his head.
He bucks up to meet her, his cock straining beneath fabric, hard and throbbing already, eager to be inside her.
"Desperately," he groans out.
Regina slides her small, warm hands over his chest again, down to his stomach to the v that dips below the edge of his trousers. He wants to flip her, fill her and fuck her until she screams, but they're laying on a bloody rock, and he thinks for a moment this might have been a bad idea, he should take her in a bed, where there are pillows and furs to cushion their bodies as they writhe and come together, but then she's grinding herself against him again, his hands are on her creamy thighs, bunching up her skirt to her slim waist, his thumbs ever so close to the thin band of her smallclothes, humping and breathing heavily, sweat glistening on her brow, her nose is scrunching up, and Robin couldn't care less where they are.
He hooks his ankle behind her leg and rolls them, hand cradles the back of her head.
Oh fuck! The roll scraps his knuckles across the ground. This was not a good idea.
"I don't–" he kisses her "want to stop–" (he sort of does, just to move, just so their backs and arses aren't cut to bits because they were too impatient to pause for a moment and relocate). He tugs at her lower lip "but I think we might–" he pants against her open mouth, sharing the air between them "need somewhere more comfortable."
Regina smiles and just like that, they're nestled in the bed of furs in his tent. Purple smoke dissipating around them.
He grins at her. Not taken aback by her use of magic. Anything is acceptable so long as he doesn't have to lose contact with her skin.
"Great minds appear to think alike," he chuckles and then her mouth on his again silences him.
Their wet lips part and she breathes, "I prefer to not wait any longer."
And neither does he.
A few days after Zelena paid a visit to her little sister, she paid another house call to Mortianna, and the crone gave her some very interesting information.
"You're sure that's what you saw in your vision?" Zelena asks.
"Yes, the Queen will bare a child with the mark of the lion, and her daughter will be the key to either uniting or ruining all ten kingdoms."
Mortianna continues to tell her about the prophecy, giving her detail after detail, but Zelena isn't listening, tunes her out as the wheels start spinning in her head. She latches onto the one thread of information she actually needs.
Zelena cackles, "What a delicious turn out events."
Regina's baby is the last ingredient she needs for her curse. Now all she has to do is wait and bide her time, while her sister and her soul mate enjoy these last few months together. Soon, she will exact her revenge, and no one, no one will be shown mercy.
A little over a week later, the scouts return from their ride to the Queen's castle. Their suspicions confirmed, the witch has left it behind and deserted. The council meets and decides that the forest is not safe for anyone anymore. Not while Zelena and her simian army roam the lands.
They spread the word around camp and by the next morning they all gather needed supplies for the journey. Snow and Charming assure dwarves, townspeople and Merry Men alike that the castle will have plenty of room and comforts to provide for everyone. Thinking back to that meeting, Regina remembers the hesitance that settled among them.
"Is it smart to go back to the castle?" Grumpy asks looking around at everyone with skepticism. "I don't know about you guys, but that Wicked Bitch is a few broomsticks short of a cleaning service. There's no telling what kinds of traps she's set in that place."
Charming looks between Snow and Regina. "He's got a point. We don't know what's in there."
Regina sighs, "Well, we are sure as hell no better off out here. It's clear now more than ever that none of us are safe in the forest. Zelena knows how to get to us, knows our defenses. We are surely safer in the castle than wide out in the open."
"I agree with, Regina," Robin says from his place beside her. "We are no match for those numbers of winged beasts out in the open like this. It's too vulnerable to attack."
Snow nods thoughtfully. "Regina, if we get back into the castle do you think you'll be able to tell if there are dangers she might have left behind?"
Regina bites her cheek. Not really, she wants to say but doesn't. "I won't be able to tell you that until we get there, but what I do know is that she didn't have to leave. My guess is she wants something else."
"And what's that?" Robin asks.
"I don't know."
The trek to the castle takes two weeks on foot, going slow as to not rush the elders and youngsters of the camp. It's tedious and long, but they send lookouts and scouts in all directions to warn of any dangers along the way. They are as safe as they can be given the circumstances.
Regina's eyes meet Robin's, she smiles and they both look down at the tiny tot between them. Roland holds their big hands, humming little diddies to himself and no one else in particular, lost in his own little world of childlike wonder. Regina hears him making sound effects with his mouth, jerking down on her arm a little as his imagination spikes, and he kicks at an imaginary foe.
Two months before she was holding Roland's hand with Snow. And now, she's holding it with her soul mate.
She looks back at Robin who's still smiling down at his little boy. Is there anything more attractive than a proud, doting father? He meets her gaze again, and he silently counts, making a swaying motion with his other, hoping she catches his meaning, and, of course, she does. She's done it before. When his lips mouth "three," they swing their arms in unison, Roland's feet leave the earth, his eyeballs pop open, his chest lifts, his hands squeeze theirs tightly, and he squeals with glee.
"Papa! Gina!" he shouts, jumping up and down when his feet finally touch the earth.
They do it again, and a few more times after that, forgetting for a moment that a Wicked Witch has ways of spying on them in the forest.
Disclaimer: not mine