AN: Make sure you read chapter 12.1 first before you read this. Big thank you to Jen and Hayley (starscythe and htoria; Jen for cheering me on and Hayley for putting up with all my "this is shit" texts as my lovely beta). Without further ado, chapter 12.2.
The Lion and the Queen
Regina, Robin and the small company of Merry Men canter under the portcullis and into the castle courtyard just as the sun dips down behind the westward mountains. They're greeted by two watchmen. One of them addresses Regina with a Your Majesty, bowing his head and giving her a quick update on what's been happening while she was away.
It's been quite clear to the people that she, Snow White and David are corulers, sharing the weight of leadership. And even though some were hesitant to accept at first, given many of their experiences with the Queen's reign, Snow's support and encouragement of it was hard for them to ignore. She set them at ease.
The guard, whose name Regina will later find out is Tanner, tells her that the evening supper has ended; and most have either turned in for the night or are lounging in the Great Hall. Last they saw, Princess Snow and Prince David were speaking with the Blue Fairy. Some of the dwarves were puttering about, smoking pipes with Mulan and the other Merry Men.
Regina thanks the guards, something she's doing more and more of lately, dismounts and leads the Thoroughbred into the stables. She untacks, hangs the bridle up, lifts a comb and brushes through his mane, breathing in the calming smell of hay, dust and lingering sweat, lost for a moment in her childhood days spent galloping across meadows, jumping over oxers and fences, feeling the wind in her face and Rocinante's stride widen under the pressure of her heels. She presses her cheek to the stallions neck, breathing in the comforting scent again, letting it wash over her. She closes her eyes and her fingers still, and that's when she feels it, a quickening in her belly, followed by a white flash.
She's galloping, sun shining down on her face. She's aged, a few well-earned lines at the corners of her eyes, but she's no less beautiful. Even more so now. All soft smiles, brightness, light and warmth in her rich, dark eyes. Laughter and gleeful shouts bubble up from a little girl sitting safely between Regina's legs, tiny hands fisting in the mane of a midnight black mare. Rosy cheeks and button nose, wispy brown curls that fly about her sweet angelic face. The little girl's eyes are a deep blue, just like her father's. Regina loosens her grip on the reins, laughs freely with her daughter, and the next sound is music to her ears.
"Faster, Mommy!" The little girl shouts.
"As you wish, my darling."
And then the vision flickers out, gone just as soon as it came. Eyes closed, she feels for the life stitching together beneath skin and muscle. Seconds tick by - she hears him before she feels him, he comes up behind her, wraps his arms around her middle and squeezes lightly. She sighs into him, lets her hand drop to her side, shaking away wishful thinking and hope, not ready to acknowledge that the baby she's been dreaming about for months is the same as the little girl she just saw in a glimmer of what might come to pass.
Their quiet moment together is interrupted by Much, Alan, Tuck and John trudging in on tired limbs to free the rest of the horses into the pasture. Once they're all done, the men clamor into the Great Hall and a young girl named Jensen points them toward the kitchens where bread bakes in the oven and leftover roast turns on a spit.
Regina tells Robin that she's tired and just wants to take a bath, away from prying eyes and questions and the reality that, even though she's the one who ultimately let Jakan get away, they will need to figure out what comes next, figure out if he still poses a threat. But for now, all she wants to do is disappear and let soap and warm water soak away the anxiety and fear coursing through her bones. Robin nods, saying that he'll scrounge them up something to eat after checking in on Roland. He watches as her shoulders heave and she walks slowly down the long hallway, rounds a corner and disappears out of view.
He finds her an hour or so later, curled up in bed on her side, back facing him, hair up off the nape of her neck and wisps of it framing her face, her head buried in a pillow. He crosses the room, places his bow and quiver in a chaise next to the vanity, sets a platter of assorted fruits, nuts, sliced bread and dried meats down on the nightstand next to a pitcher of water, and comes up behind her.
"Regina?" He asks, resting his hand on her shoulder. She angles her head to look at him and what he sees breaks his heart. Blotchy cheeks, red eyes, tears streaming down her face. "Regina," he whispers brokenly, easing himself next to her and pulling her into his arms. She goes willingly. And he realizes she must really be upset if she doesn't care that he's still filthy and he's soiling her clean clothes and clean skin with the grime on his hands and the blood on his tunic.
He doesn't ask her any questions at first, just holds her, just soothes the hiccups now wracking her tiny frame by rubbing up and down her back. Lips grazing the side of her temple, thumb caressing the side of her cheek as he holds her to him. Minutes go by, how many, neither of them knows, but when her breathing finally calms and her chests rises and falls in slow, steady beats, Regina tilts her head up, stares, looks into his crystal blue eyes and then moves her mouth to his, kisses him, languidly. Her tears sweet and salty on his tongue as their lips come together and apart.
"We were lucky today," he finally says, touching his forehead to hers, and she agrees, leaning further into his arms and nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. "Regina, what happened? What were you thinking before you let Jakan go?"
"It wasn't his fault." She shakes her head, peppers his jaw with peck after peck until she's back to his lips, kisses, nips. She's trying to distract him and he knows it.
"Regina," he kisses her back, "that's lovely–" kiss "and you know how much–" tongue "I love it when you–" she grazes her teeth over his bottom lip "do that." He gulps, trying to get his wits about him and force himself to think with his head for a minute instead of his … other head. "Regina," he groans, frustrated with her, because yes, this is amazing, he loves it when she – guh – he sucks in a harsh breath as her nimble fingers rub over where he's already hardening in his breeches. He stills her hand and grumbles into her ear that he knows what she's doing, but he thinks they should talk.
She sighs, brushes her nose up against his, and then pushes herself away, rolling over and sitting up on the edge of the bed, bare feet just skimming the cold, stone floor. Robin sits up behind her and waits, ready to listen or comfort or do whatever it is that she needs.
It's useless to think at this point that he'll let her pretend like nothing happened at the tavern, that letting that teenager go wasn't a big deal, because he won't, won't let her ignore it when it's clearly still bothering her. Unconsciously, she rests her palm just below her navel and fidgets with the fabric of her gown with her thumb.
"I–" she stutters, breathing and starting again. "A long time ago, someone offered me – the Evil Queen – a second chance, a shot at redemption. They said that if she meant it, if I meant it, they'd gladly accept me back …" She thinks of her incognito conversation with Snow in a makeshift tent and then on a small incline where hundreds of bodies lay hidden out of view. "Robin, that boy," Regina spins around, pulling her knees up under her, hands open in her lap, "that boy was just as scared as I was when I thought I was at the end. When I thought, 'this is it, this is my life, this is what I've done with it.' And I wasn't at a place where I could admit this before, but …" Her almost execution flashes through her mind. The arrows, that stupid fairy that never did her any favors, the mocking faces of the men and women in the crowd, Snow and David sitting in their viewing box. She thinks about the things she said, thinks about the remorse and regret stuck in the back of her throat, and then she remembers what she actually said, the venom she spit and the daggers she glared and the horrified faces staring back at her. She does have regrets, many more now that she no longer has Henry. She thinks about the things she might have done differently and her vengeance sticks out like a sore thumb. Though, without her vengeance, Henry never would've come into her life in the first place; he might not have even been born. So she doesn't wish to change what can't be undone, but Jakan … Jakan is at the beginning of his life. He has so much more ahead of him. "He deserves a second chance."
"And if he comes back with reinforcements?"
The memory of Robin's sickly body collapsed in a heap at the foot of their bed makes her blood run cold. She knows what she'll do if Jakan comes for her family again, but she doesn't want to agonize over it anymore tonight. For now, she wants to forget that her life is one unending catastrophe after the next so she places her hand on Robin chest, feeling for the steady beat of his heart against her palm.
"Then we deal with him when he comes," Regina says, resigned to the fact that maybe this nightmare might never end, just like the earth shattering visions that plague her in sleep.
Robin touches his forehead back to hers and cards his fingers through her hair. He's heard her side, even though he knows there's more. There always is with her, and every time they talk in private, where she knows everything they say will stay between the two of them, she reveals a little bit more of what's going on inside that very beautiful yet often troubled mind of hers.
"I don't want to lose you, Regina," Robin mutters, voice so quiet and hushed, she'd have missed it if his lips weren't just inches from hers, his breath feathering across her skin. She doesn't want to lose him either. Oh, if only he knew how that very thought tormented her at night. "I know you can take care of yourself. I know you're completely capable, but the thing is. You're not alone anymore, and more importantly you don't have to be. Today was foolish. Not because you're pregnant. Not because you're a woman." He skates the pad of his thumb over the rise of her cheek. "We went in without a plan. We didn't know how many we were up against. We didn't know our escape route or our course of action if events didn't go our way, and they almost didn't. If it hadn't been for my men, well ..." He remembers Audric stalking toward her while she bent over forward on the ground, unprotected, disarmed, disoriented, feels himself shudder at the what if that flits through his mind. "We wouldn't have been so fortunate."
Robin cups her cheek and brushes her hair away from her face, tucking a strand behind her ear. "We protect each other, alright?" He says, his words heavy with promise – an agreement, a commitment to her, to the family they're creating (to the one she still feels pangs of guilt over in the pit of her stomach).
"Alright," she replies, snuggling closer to him and tracing small circles over his chest. He gently presses a kiss to the crown of her head and breathes in the sweet scent of her hair.
Regina tilts her head up and glances from his crystal blues down to his lips. She licks hers, and he grins, while her fingers trail lazily over his skin. She starts at the base of his throat, travels down his exposed chest that's peeking out from where the laces are undone at the front of his tunic, her index finger stopping when it hits fabric. She smiles up at him, and then with a wave of her hand and a glint in her eyes, his shirt is folded up neatly on a chair by the door. Her finger continues its trail down the toned muscles of his stomach.
Years of living in the forest, hunting, running, trekking over miles of rough terrain and evading the law have kept him fit, fitter than most of the men she's been with, and looking at him, studying his body the same way his eyes are raking hers, desire burning hot in the pit of her belly, but then there's also this odd ringing in her ears and then the room is spinning and she's having a hard time keeping her eyes open and Robin–
"Hey, hey, hey, I've got you." He steadies her as she's about to fall over, drags them both back to lean against the headboard and situates her between his legs. He leans over and reaches for the water pitcher, pouring her a glass and bringing it to her lips. "That's something else we need to talk about. What's going on?" He asks, lacing his fingers with hers over her stomach as she drinks.
She rests the metal chalice against the outside of Robin's thigh. "Ever since the tavern … something's been wrong with my magic," she confesses. "I don't know if it's me or just today or if …"
"If it's the baby?" He prompts, gently squeezing her hand, and she hmmms a yes. "Regina, earlier when you," he gestures what she assumes is supposed to be a choke hold, "used magic on Jakan, had you ever done that before?"
She frowns in his arms. "Robin, I was called the Evil Queen for a reason. Today wasn't the first time I've strangled or frozen someone in place like that. You know that better than anyone."
"No, I'm not referring to that. I meant the …" He adjusts her in his lap and stretches out his arms so he can demonstrate with his hands what he saw while they were surrounded in the tavern. "Pulses of energy were coming off you in waves of purple, and the more angry you became the larger the pulses, but then something changed and your whole demeanor shifted. You released Jakan. Then the energy disappeared."
Her brows furrows at that, because she honestly can't really remember. Her silence worries Robin. "Maybe we should talk to Doc, hear what he has to say about–"
Regina refuses, shaking her head back and forth. "I'll talk to Granny in the morning. The dwarf wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut. He'd tell Snow, and then the whole castle will know. And I'm– I'm not ready yet." She shifts and turns to look at him, pleading with her eyes. Robin grabs the chalice before it can topple over, places it back on the nightstand and scoots himself up so they're propped up on pillows and Regina's comfortably situated in his lap.
"Alright," he chuckles, pushing her hair away from her face and kissing her forehead. Robin grins, his dimples and sincere eyes melt her worries to the back of her mind.
There's love in his gaze, love unlike any of which she's ever been on the receiving end. He's so understanding and patient. How did she ever get so lucky?
Regina pulls his face down to hers and kisses, nips, tugs and slips her tongue into his mouth, and Robin doesn't resist, groans at how easily they can go from being tender one second to wanting to devour each other in the next. He cards his hand through her hair, presses her closer to him with one palm on her lower back, angles his head just a bit so the kiss deepens, and then she's groaning and shifting so she can straddle him, knees on either side of his thighs, hiking up the skirt of her nightgown. He chuckles at her eagerness and then surprises her by sitting up, lifting her into his arms, supporting her under her arse and rolling them over. When her back hits the mattress, her legs are splayed open for him. He swiftly rucks up her nightgown so the fabric pools just above her navel, and then he's grinding himself in between her thighs.
"Alright?" He asks. And there's him caring again, checking in to make sure she's comfortable and that the dizziness is gone. Regina moans and wraps her ankle around the back of his leg, sliding her foot up along his calf as he rocks into her again, dry humping and rubbing their sexes together.
"Yes," Regina breathes, fumbling with the belt holding up his trousers, keeping a key part of his anatomy away from where she wants it most. She whips the belt out of its loops and tosses it. The metal buckle clatters against stone; she helps him ruck down his pants and undergarments. He lifts his hips and kicks them off his ankles and onto the floor. Her smallclothes are next, and he slides them down her creamy legs easily, kissing along the inside of her thigh as he goes and then kissing his way back up to the sensitive bud between her legs once her undergarments are tossed on the ground next to his.
Robin teases her entrance with his fingers, exploring and working her up until she's ready. She's not yet, not quite wet enough but he'll get her there. He always does. And if he has to use a bit of his spit to help, well, he's not complaining about that. He loves the way she tastes, the way he can pull gasps of pleasure past her lips with his mouth and his tongue. He starts quite quickly with a long, dragging swoop of his tongue, through her folds and to her clit where he sucks, kisses and makes her purr so she's pleasantly scrunching up her brow.
She continues to assure him that she'll be more careful, she'll talk to Granny, she'll stay open and honest and will let him know if it becomes too much for her. She'll let him know if she needs to slow down, if she needs to rest or do less.
He grunts, achingly hard but holding back until she's wet enough for him to fill her. He nips the inside of her thigh, peppering her skin with chaste kisses when he asks, "Promise?"
"I promise," she whispers, while he's propped up on his elbows over her, one of her legs over his shoulder and the other spread out and held back by his hand that's not currently busy inserting one finger and then two inside of her. "I promise," she says again, voice hitching in her throat as he sets a slow torturous pace, and she means it, really, truly means it as she's nodding her head and then eager hands are scrambling to pull him up. She crashes her lips to his in a frenzy, reaches down between them as he's placing wet, hot opened-mouth kisses along the column of her throat. She unties the laces at the front of her nightgown while he teases her, slowly pulling his fingers out and then thrusting back in again, knuckles buried inside her. Her mouth drops open, and she moans as pleasure builds and the rocking of their hips rubs his cock just so, up against her clit, and she ahhhs.
She loves him for waiting, loves him for seeing to her first, but she wants him, wants him now, and she can't wait any longer.
Regina spits in her own palm and then holds him in her hand, pumps up and down a few times and watches as his brow furrows, as the muscles tense in his arms and stomach as he continues to hold himself over her, swallowing the saliva pooling in his throat as his erection hardens in her deliciously wonderful grip with each stroke from his balls to the tip, brushing her thumb over the head of his cock and wiping away beads of precum; he growls at a particularly harsh jerk of her wrist, and that just doesn't seem fair, that she's torturing him with rolling motions, wanking him off, so he does something about that, presses his palm against her clit harder, rubbing faster. A harsh gasp leaves her lips, hips jolting of their own accord. He keeps rubbing in small circles, faster, faster, harder, harder as her breathing becomes more labored and her hand starts falling out of rhythm as his picks up pace. His forehead pressed against hers, sharing the air between them, bodies glistening with a sheen of sweat.
"Oh God!" Regina shouts, back arching and Robin lifts his head away from hers, watches as her head tilts back, and she's slack jawed and moaning and keening with each motion of his palm over the sensitive nub at the apex of her thighs. She lets go of him, fisting her hands in the sheets and biting down on her lower lip. Robin guides himself toward her entrance, gliding once through her sodden folds.
She's definitely ready for him now.
He helps her sit up and she groans in protest at the lost of contact at her clit, but then he's lifting up her nightgown and tossing it, freeing her breasts. She flops back, hair fanning out around her on a pillow, and Robin claims one of her hard nipples with his mouth, tugging, sucking, lavishing his tongue around in circles until he lets go with a wet pop. And then he's lining his cock up, sliding through her folds once, twice, three times and on the next thrust of his pelvis he fills her. She gasps and he hisses, and then he does it again, thrusts in and then out, in and then out, in and then out. One hand supporting his weight near her head, while the other palms her breast again, strumming his thumb over her nipple.
It's exquisite, sends shivers up and down her spine as he pulls out, just barely inside her, and then thrusts, stealing her breath away.
Regina shudders.
Robin does it again.
Oh god, it's amazing has her toes curling, a familiar thrum of pleasure building deep in her belly, tightening and tightening, and bringing her closer to the edge. She feels it starting, that pressure every time he hits that spot; it's making it hard for her to breath, blooms, blooms and blooming desire, his breathing visible, puffing out in little clouds as he watches her come undone beneath him. The stonewalls of the castle keeping in winter's cold air as they move together, moaning and gasping.
It's short, shorter than it usually is, because it's not about prolonging pleasure. It's about feeling each other, making sure they're both safe and here and present. It's about them and being alive and making sure the other knows they're loved.
And oh, how Robin wants to make sure Regina knows she's loved, urgent and eager to feel every inch of her, to make sure she's alive and well and not going to leave him.
"Regina– I'm gonna–"
"So close–" she gasps and uhhhs on his next thrust "so close– almost there."
But Robin's there already, muscles straining and shaking from trying to hold on, and he comes with a unhh!, hips jerking, rutting inside her and Regina whimpers because she's teetering on the edge, but not quite there; she's a live wire that hasn't been tripped, so he pulls out of her, kisses his way quickly down past her navel. He groans, seeing her slick and slippery with his cum, swirls his thumb over her clit, and that makes her hum, that makes her back arch off their bed. He inserts three fingers, pump, pump, pumping, curling and uncurling, hitting that spot that makes her body sing, bringing her to orgasm.
They fall asleep, sated and exhausted, but most importantly, in each other's arms.
Food forgotten on the nightstand.
Exactly where they belong.
Nights become warmer as snow caps melt and flowers start to bud through ice. Winter fades into spring and with the changing of seasons, Regina's conflicting fears about the baby and Henry are replaced with new ones the more her belly curves. Fears that are only getting worse. Her magic has been inconsistent, unreliable, fluxuating just as rapidly as her ever changing mood. When she does use it, it leaves her feeling weak, drained, sapped of energy. Robin and Granny have both told her they'll need to tell people about her condition soon. Chances are that some have probably already guessed. But she's insistent they keep it a secret for just a little bit longer. She's not in any grave danger. Though, Granny has chastised her countless times that if she doesn't relax, if she doesn't stop stressing about Zelena and Jakan and a faceless crone, who they've yet to identify, if she doesn't stop worrying, she won't carry to term.
It's hard, though, for her. Pushing away those still small voices in her head has never been easy. She carries them with her from morning till dusk, and even then, every time she drifts fitfully into slumberland the nightmares come.
A crying infant, cobwebs and walls pressing in. Robin in a pool of blood, an arrow in his shoulder, glassy eyes. A cackle, the castle on fire, and darkness. Consuming, unending darkness and a shrill, earth-shattering scream.
Regina jolts upright in bed, awoken by another nightmare only an hour or two after she and Robin closed their eyes. He's still peacefully sleeping next to her, blanket rising and falling with his chest as he breathes, his light snoring the only thing she can hear besides the pounding of her heart in her ears. She sits on the edge of their bed for a minute, debating whether or not to cozy back up beside him, but she knows sleep won't come. Not for a while. Not even if she desperately wants it to. So she tiptoes over to her closet, throws on an evening robe and wanders out of their room, walking down the hallway, toward the west wing stairwell, through a corridor past the wine seller and outside into the gardens to get some fresh air.
She breathes in the crisp air and pulls her heavy robe more tightly around herself, trapping in some of the heat. Spring may be coming (another reminder that by the end of summer, she'll be holding a baby in her arms), but when the sun and the moon trade places at night, evening still peppers her skin with goosebumps. Exhaustion and fatigue tug at the dull ache in her back from the added weight she's been carrying around the last four months.
Wind rustles the barren hedges of the labyrinth as she pads through it to a familiar bench, sitting, listening to night's quiet, calming banter. The hoot of a Tawny Owl. Cricket legs rubbing together. A Wryneck's call in the branches of a nearby tree. It soothes her on evenings like this one where nightmares won't allow her to sleep.
A twinge lightly jabs at Regina's side, and she rolls her eyes in annoyance before rubbing there, her belly hidden beneath layers of clothing. She unfastens the sash at her hip, unveiling fabric to reveal the rounded curve of her belly. She really is starting to show now. Soon she won't be able to hide it behind fabric and heavy cloaks.
"What are you doing to me?" She whispers, palm easing away tension as she moves her hand back and forth, not at all talking about the dull aches and faint stretch marks creeping their way up on her skin.
She hasn't felt the baby kick yet, only a little thrum of energy and light quickening every now and then. Granny has assured her that's normal. Yawning as a gust of wind picks up and ruffles her hair, sending a chill down her spine, Regina decides to go back inside, back to her bed and Robin's warm arms and tight embrace. She stands and starts walking back the way she came until she has a sudden hankering for something else.
"Really?" She says, staring down at her concealed stomach. "Now? You're hungry now?" She's been doing this more often, without even realizing it. Talking to it when she's alone, and it may sound crazy, but she feels like it talks back. It's just a sensation she gets, no real words, just a feeling and then she knows. "Fine. If you must, we'll grab one on the way back to your daddy," she huffs, taking a different route, back through the courtyard, past the main gate and into the quad. She'll just head for the kitchens really quick for the apple pie Granny baked earlier, cut a slice (or two), and then sneak back into the room before Robin wakes up.
Regina opens a side door that leads to a corridor that splits to the kitchens and the dungeons. She's halfway down the hallway, when the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and a shiver runs up her spine. She notices it's quiet. Too quiet. The flame of a torch mounted on the wall flickers, dancing as the dank air around her shifts.
Someone else is in here.
She hears them before she sees them. Hurried footsteps running toward her, she spins on her heel, fireball bursting in her palm, building a queasiness in the pit of her stomach, but she's not quick enough.
Something blue and black is blown in her face, a fine powder that has her coughing, lungs burning as she inhales, eyes stinging, watering, vision spinning and the flame in her hand sputtering out.
She coughs, coughs and coughs, temporarily off balance, catches herself on the wall. Hands shaking, vision still blurry when she opens her eyes and the shadow in front of her slowly comes into focus.
"'ello, yor majesty," a familiar voice greets, putting her on edge.
"Jakan." Regina stands up straight, hands out at her sides, robe billowing down, keeping her stomach out of view.
"Bet ya didn't fnk I'd be 'ere, did ya?"
"No, I'd quite hoped you learned your lesson last time," she says, clenching her teeth and wishing she'd listened to when Robin had said they should look into where the boys ran off to after their confrontation weeks ago. And then she frowns. "How did you get in?"
He laughs, too confident and boastful for her liking. Why isn't he as afraid of her as last time?
"Bit o' plannin' and ya sista's blood ta get passed the protection spell. But ya made it easy bein' here in da open. I didn't even 'ave to come find ay. Someone must be smilin' down on me." Jakan takes a step toward her, she takes one back, opening and closing her fist at her side, trying to ignite flame. Why isn't it working? "I was on me way ter yaaahr quarters," he waves a piece of parchment in her face, inked lines and notes in the margins. "Just needed ter follow dis right ter you. But now I don't 'ave to."
"Where did you get that? I'm not even sleeping in my old chambers, how did you know ... I'd be …" Jakan watches as the horrifying truth becomes evident on her face. "You had more than one person working inside the castle. That's how Alec escaped without being seen, how he was able to get the potion into the porridge. It changed between hands."
"'ave. We 'ave more van one person workin' inside da castle." Jakan smiles mockingly and takes another step toward her, she flings her hands out in front of her, expecting him to fly back but instead … nothing happens. "That won't work." He taunts, opening his fist. Remnants of the blue, black powder he blew in her face, falling to the floor.
"Jakan, you don't have to do this," Regina begins, alarm in her voice, because whatever comes next, she has nothing to defend herself. Just her words, so she starts with "I know how you must feel."
Mistake.
"No, ya don't!" He shouts, spit flying out of his mouth.
"I do," she says softly, hands out in front of her. "I do. I dream about them at night. All of them. I haven't been able to stop seeing their faces ever since the tavern; they're haunting me, begging for mercy where I gave none!", slowly backing up with each word that leaves her mouth. "I know what it's like to hold onto anger. I know what it's like to feel like it's all you have left," she pounds on her heart, "to feel broken and lost, to want to make everyone suffer the way you've suffered. To make people pay for what they've done to you. And I– I'm sorry. I am. I'm sorry I did that to you. I'm sorry I ruined your life. If I could take it back ..." Would she? She thinks about everything she put him through, thinks about him as a little boy, grieving for his parents a few years before she cast the Dark Curse, about him having to re-live that pain and sorrow for nearly 30 years, frozen in time.
He has tears in his eyes, wipes at snot dripping out of his nose, and for a moment, he looks just like an older version of Roland or Henry. Looks like a child, who's experienced too much tragedy and buried his parents at far too young an age.
"You're just 'ryin' ter stop me! You don't care abaaaht me or me parents. You're not sorry!"
"No, I am. Jakan, I promise you, I–"
"NO!" He snarls, eyes bloodshot, nostrils flaring. "NO no no, you're just da Evil Queen. YOU'RE NOT SORRY!" And that's when Regina knows, there's no coming back from this, no convincing him otherwise, no amount of apologies can fix this or change how he feels about her. How he sees her. And to him, she's evil, through and through. His shoulders heave, and his breathing calms, remembering his mission. "Our mistress needs somethin' from you. And I'm supposed ter collect."
"And what exactly does your mistress want from me?"
For a moment, she thinks she sees remorse in his eyes, but then he's nodding and pointing toward her stomach, and her blood freezes in her veins.
"They're comin' for ya," he jeers; and she hears the heavy sound of footsteps echoing between stone walls in the stairwell up from the dungeons, the clanging of maille and armor getting louder and louder, her eyes widen in horror. The castle is under siege, and she's the treasure they've come to pilfer.
Magic won't save her today.
So she runs.
Robin's heart is racing, pounding in his chest, trying to break free when he gasps and startles out of a dead sleep. He's feels like he's running, out of breath, sweat on this temples, panic, fear, helplessness. He immediately jerks his head to the left where Regina should be sleeping, but she isn't. She's gone. Nothing but wrinkled sheets and a cold spot where she previously lay.
His heart pounds.
"Regina!" He jumps out of bed, yanking on his trousers and grabbing his bow and blade.
Jakan grabs a handful of her hair and pulls her head back. "Ya thought I wouldn't be back for ya," he bites softly. Looking into her face, he sneers, "They fnk you're so innocent, but I know da truth. It amazes me. Even after everythin' yew did, they're willin' ter forget … "Well, I 'aven't … I–" he breaks off as Regina elbows him in the rib cage.
She goes to run again, gets just a few paces ahead of him before he catches up, grabbing her arm, trying to pull her toward him, while she pushes herself away. The unsteady motion throws them both off balance, and they both fall. Regina cries out, before the air knocks out of her lungs and she struggles to breath, hitting the ground.
Hard.
Her head bangs against concrete, and she's dazed, tries to get up, struggles against the agony of the blow and the fear that turns her legs to water. She tries to rise to her feet, but a sharp pang shoots through her body and sends her crashing back to her knees.
"No, no, no," she breathes through clenched teeth, hand fretfully pushing away her robe and clinging to her belly.
"Not so powerful now, are you?" Jakan sneers, pushing himself up, while she's hunched over on the ground, one palm on the cold, hard ground beneath her, the other clutching at her stomach. She looks from side to side, they're in the hallway closest to the sleeping quarters. If she's lucky (which she never is), maybe someone will have heard.
Regina whimpers again as her side cramps and then looks up beneath her eyelashes at Jakan.
He doesn't care about what Mortianna or that stupid, green-faced witch said. He wants revenge, wants the Evil Queen's blood, wants her to pay, will make her suffer as she made him suffer. But just as he pulls back his leg and goes to put his full force into kicking her, he's grabbed from behind.
It's Much; he swiftly pulls Jakan toward him and hurls his fist into the former Merry Man's nose, breaking it on contact. Red flows, Jakan cries out, cursing and crying like the child that he is. Much punches him again, and this time Jakan crumples. Passed out on the floor.
Much shakes out his fist and says, "I've been wanting to do that for quite some time. Bloody prat."
"They're coming," Regina moans and his focus shifts to her. "There's more of them. Coming up through the hidden tunnels in the dungeons." He kneels down and easily scoops her up into his arms.
John and Tuck run up behind them, eye shifting to the unconscious lad. "What's happened? She alright?!" They ask in unison, directing their attention back to Regina cradled in Much's arms.
"We have to warn everyone the castle's under attack!" He shifts Regina in his arms.
John confirms, placing his hand on Much's shoulder. "We've got this. Get her and the little prince or princess checked out. We'll sound the alarm. Roland's with Granny in her room. I'll tell them to meet you in Regina and Robin's quarters."
They split up, and Much soothes into her ear "Almost there, Regina," as she moans again, fists her hand in his shirt.
"How'd you know where I was?"
"Didn't. Robin woke us all a short while ago in a panic, searching for you." Much hurries them over tiled stones, carrying her as quickly as he can. Her head falls against his chest, one arm curled around his neck, and she starts concentrating on the pain in her side, hones in on that radiating ache that has fear coursing through her veins. "Something about that connection you two seem to have."
A smile inches its way onto her lips.
"Why didn't you just flay the arse like I know you can."
"I don't have my magic." His shocked expression has her following with, "It's just temporary. As soon as it's back, I'm going to flatten every idiot who thought storming the Evil Queen's castle would be a good idea."
He uses his back to push open her bedroom door, cross the room and sets her on the chaise. She shifts uncomfortably, hands probing gingerly at her side and over her belly – the area tender and likely already beginning to bruise. Taking a shaky breath, she looks up at Much.
"Thank you." Regina reaches out for his hand and squeezes. There's more on the tip of her tongue, more she wants to tell him, thank you for believing in me, thank you for trusting me, for having my back, for seeing in her what Robin sees, but she doesn't have a chance to say any of that, not before Snow comes rushing in, breathing heavily, sword in hand and the Blue Fairy and Ruby quickly following behind her.
"Regina!" Snow shouts, hurrying over and kneeling on the ground, hand outstretched to see what's wrong. She looks to Much for answers and he tells her quickly about the attack, and then Regina winces again, and Snow looks at Blue.
"Help her!" She commands, and the shock shows clear as day on Blue's tiny fairy face. Her wings flutter furiously as she scowls at the panicked princess. "She's in pain and you can make it go away. Help her, please."
Regina groans as she sits up straighter, chuckling darkly as she says, "Don't bother, dear. She's never been one to do me any favors, not even when I needed it most." She scowls at Blue, her brow furrowed and sweat gleaming on her temples.
There's an unspoken history between them, years of pent up bitterness that's festered and grown into a touch of loathing that was born the day this fairy decided Regina wasn't worth saving. She really doesn't want her help, and she certainly doesn't want her anywhere near her or her child (the child she can tell is anxious and just as worried as its mother – worried – but otherwise still safe, unharmed. Elemental magic may not be accessible to Regina at the moment due to the ground up aster powder currently blocking her powers, but she can still sense the baby's energy thrumming inside her, lightly radiating out and letting her know it's okay).
"I wouldn't want her coming near me anyway," Regina mutters, adjusting her robe to make sure her belly is still out of sight, and it's a good thing too, because by the looks of it, Blue was just about to reluctantly approach her – ever the obedient bitch at Snow or Charming's beck and call.
Snow frowns and notices the way Much continues to hover just behind the Queen, refusing to leave her side. Robin's men have been particularly protective of her as of late, more so than usual, and Snow knows that it's partly because of her budding relationship with their leader, but there has to be more, there has to be another reason, because Regina is plenty capable of taking care of herself. Snow just can't figure out what it is that has them up and arms and ready to die for her. "Regina, please, be reasonable," Snow starts, reaching out to grasp her hand, but Regina shakes her off.
"I'm fine," she barks, a little more harshly than she intended, but she needs Snow to stop, she needs Blue to get away from her. If the fairy, someone who was supposed to protect good and innocence, was willing to condemn a young girl to a life of misery because of her mother's sins, a young girl whose life could have drastically changed had she been shown what real happiness and love looked like, if the fairy could turn her back on her because of Cora, then what would she do if she found out Regina is pregnant.
"I'll make sure she's alright," Much assures. And there it is again - that devotion and loyalty that Snow's been seeing in each of the Merry Men lately.
Snow nods, and then seems to remember what's happening outside the walls of this room. She's about to tell them that David, Robin and a group of soldiers are fighting near the battlement, that it looks like they might win, even with the surprise ambush. She's about to tell them that Robin couldn't concentrate not knowing where Regina was, that she offered to find her and make sure she was safe, but then Granny barges in with Roland, and the moment he sees Regina, he wiggles himself out of Widow Lucas' arms and runs to her.
"Gina!" He shouts, hugging her, little hands fisting in her robe as she envelops him, wraps her arms around him snugly and kisses the top of his head.
"Roland," she brushes his curls away from his face and touches her nose to his. "Hello, my little knight," she cooes, breathing in the soft scent of his hair, holding him close to her.
"Gina, Papa was scared. He came to my room and took me to Granny, and he said he needed to find you. But you're here. You're okay. Are you okay?"
She sighs, the ache in her side nearly gone, though, her head is still pounding, a huge knot already forming under her hair. "I'm okay," she assures him. She meets Granny's gaze. She'll need to talk to her after this, and just to be safe, she should probably also finally talk to Doc. Even if she still hasn't forgiven him for resetting her rips so harshly.
Regina kisses Roland on the nose, ruffles his curls and sets him on the ground, thinking about his papa fighting outside. "They need our help." She moves to the chest at the foot of her bed and opens it, pulling out a sword and handing it to Much. There's a crossbow in there as well, and she gives that to Granny. "They think they can come in here and take our home, we'll show them they're wrong."
"Do you think that's wise, Your Majesty?" Blue says in an annoyingly squeaky voice. Her eyes narrow and she hones in one Regina's stomach. "You don't appear to be … yourself."
But Regina ignores her, instead bends over to pull another sword from its scabbard and then cries out in pain again, clutching at her arm. Much runs over and opens her cloak. Roland cowers in between Granny's legs. Much pulls away Regina's fingers and there's blood and a gash slashed down her shoulder. He stares at her in shock.
"I don't understand … how … " And then the gash is gone, just a faint stinging left in its wake.
"Robin …" Regina whispers, and she tries to run back, grabs a sword and pushes Much away from her, but Snow's there in his place, grabbing shoulders and opening her robe more widely for all of them to see.
"Regina," Snow says it so quietly, she's barely sure she even said it at all. Her eyes are wide in shock and her mouth is hanging open. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"We don't have time for this, dear. Right now, your precious Charming and my– and Robin are fighting a battle that isn't theirs." She pushes Snow's hands away and turns around.
"No! You don't have your magic," Much yells, but he sees the fight in her eyes, the fear and the anger. She'll do whatever it takes to get to his leader. He sees that. Sees the lion in her, and he admires that, has always admired that so he nods and says, "Fine. I've got your back, you've got mine."
"Alright," Regina agrees, but Snow apparently doesn't because she's grabbing Regina by the arm, and why are people always doing that, why are they always trying to force her to do something she doesn't want to do? "STOP, SNOW!"
And that stops her, makes her drop her hands in defense, but it doesn't prevent the words that she wants to say from slipping past her lips. "Regina, please. You can't go out there. I'm just trying to do what's best for–"
"No, he's my family. Robin's–" she looks down at the scared four-year-old and places her hand on her stomach. "He's our family, and as long as I'm breathing, I won't abandon him or leave him to fight my battles. Regardless of whether or not I'm pregnant. Now you can help me or you can stay here, but whether you like it or not, I'm going." She doesn't even pause to say, "Granny, make sure he's–"
"Of course, girl," she says, picking Roland up and holding him tightly in her arms. "I'll protect your cub, you protect your lion."
Regina chuckles darkly. My how things have changed. She and Much run together, back to the fight that's raging outside. Magic may be her strong suit, but she's fought and waged wars enough times during her reign as Queen to be just as deadly with steel as she is with fire.
It's like watching an intricate dance. Blades clashing. Blood spilling. Men and women falling, feld by daggers and arrows and spears. Parapets ablaze. Smoke pluming up and into the night sky. Everything slow down, everything speeding up. Shouts and cries. Opponents fighting, pushing, trying to maintain the upper hand. Snow fights to get to her Charming's side. Ruby's eyes glow and swiftly shifts into claws and teeth and fur, ripping out someone's throat as she goes.
Chaos is everywhere that Much and Regina turn. The two of them have each other's backs. They fight knowing the other is behind them, ready to take on a blow that the other might not see. Two partners in a dance. When they get to the bailey, haystacks are on fire, horses are set free and galloping in a panic toward the main gate. And that's when she see him, when she spots Robin up on the curtain wall, knocking back arrow after arrow, letting them zing through the air. His shoulder is cut, but it's not stopping him.
Jakan's stumbling through the bailey when he sees her, sword cutting down men like they're nothing, slicing through necks and stabbing through their chests like they mean nothing.
He sees red. No longer concerned with what the Wicked Witch wants or what his aunt wants or what Nottingham wants. What about what he wants? She killed his family, burned his village to the ground. He was just a boy! She stole everything from him! And he only sees evil when he looks at her, and evil gets what evil deserves. He watches as the Evil Queen fells another one of his mates.
He sees red.
"Regina!" Much shouts and she whirls around, but it's too late. The dagger flying at her, the hilt of it pointing back toward the boy whose life she ruined. The one with a bloody broken nose and malice dripping off of him with each drop of crimson.
Time slows.
Her life flashes before her eyes, and she thinks of Henry, Robin, Roland and the baby. Of the little girl she'll never get to know. She thinks of Snow and David. Emma and Granny.
Things stand still. This is it.
A blood curdling scream rings through the air and Much's words echo in her head.
I've got your back. You've got mine.
Jakan's eyes go wide. Much looks down where dark crimson is staining his tunic, blade buried in his belly. And time speeds back up. Regina collapses to her knees, catching Much as he falls. No no no no no! Robin hears her, hears her scream, sees her down on the ground next to a body that he can't quite make out, and he runs, shouts Regina!, notching back another arrow to take out the man that's stalking toward her, but then Nottingham comes out of nowhere, bow of his own drawn and ready, and he meets Robin's gaze.
They're talking, she can't hear them, they're too far away, but then something changes. Robin's stance goes from being cautious to being tense and filled with rage. She sees him pull back his arrow and is helpless to stop what happens next, can only scream "NO!" but it's too late.
Robin's arrow flies, but it ricochettes past Regina, missing his intended target, his bow clatters on the ground, his balance off, his aim altered by a force shooting into his chest. Nottingham lowers his hands as Robin stumbles back, hitting the curtain wall's edge in between two creners. Regina screams. Someone hits her on the back of the head, and her vision fades to black.
Everything aches. It's dark. Warm. So warm. He's sweating. Hair sticking to his pasty brow. His mouth is dry, and he can't swallow very well. Not without the help of spit; and his lips are cracked, sting when he tries to open his mouth.
"Hello brother," Nottingham snarls.
"Andrew?" Robin stutters. "You did this?" He keeps his aim pointed at Jakan, unsure of where to look or what to do. Why isn't Regina using her magic to protect herself?! Robin shouts her name again, and she looks up at him. Tears in her eyes, grime on her face, blood on her hands. "I don't understand … you're working with … the crone?" It hits him. The Weeping Woods. His brother's disappearance. Andrew working with Mortianna all those years ago during the rebellion with Gisborne.
And Marian. Andrew's jealousy, his rage, their family feud and realizing Marian would never pick him over Robin. His brother becoming the Sheriff of Nottingham.
"That hasn't been my name in a long time, and you know it," his brother says, arrow still pointed at him. "Now you've a choice to make, brother," he bites, "save yourself or save the bitch. What's it going to be? We both know that you couldn't save your first love. Is this one supposed to be a replacement, a pretty thing between your legs? Oh, how we have plans for her."
Robin feels heavy, like he's sink, sink, sinking into … something soft, warm, something that's suffocating him, burying him deep, deep and deeper into … what? He blinks, ever so slowly, tries to open his eyes and focus on his surroundings, but he only sees spots – black, blurry spots that cloud his vision and wash out the figures coming closer to wherever he is. He goes to lift his right hand up to rub at his eyes, but there's pain, so much pain, burning through his upper chest, near his clavicle.
"And the plans we have for your child."
That gets his attention, Robin tenses, hands gripping more tightly to his bow.
"Oh, I see I've hit a sensitive subject. Did you think Mortianna wouldn't know, that she wouldn't sense the moment the prophecy came true? Tell me, brother, have you told the Evil Queen yet that you've known this whole time about the prophecy of the lion and the Queen?"
Robin tenses more, shifts on his feet.
Nottingham chuckles. "You haven't. I thought as much. What's the matter? Afraid to tell her of what that child will do if it's born? Of the power it'll give men. Well, don't you worry. We have plans for your bastard as well. And that boy down there, he's going to help us get it."
Not if he can help, he thinks. He knows he doesn't have time to turn and kill his brother first. He won't be quick enough, but he can take out Jakan. He can try to save Regina and their child. Focusing his attention back on Regina on the other side of the bailey, he quickly aims but Nottingham reads him. Shoots to kill first. The arrow forces him back, makes him miss his target.
Nottingham stalks toward him. "You failed," he whispers into Robin's ear, twisting the arrow and it grates against bone, and then he heaves his little brother over the wall.
Robin hisses as his stomach muscles tense in response, remembering the harsh impact of water as he fell to certain death, only to be welcomed by cold and darkness. He inches his other hand toward his face instead, drags his fingers over his eyelids and flutters them open. Everything is blurry again, until it's not. It clears. And for the first time, his fog addled mind registers the four poster bed he's lying on. He blinks again, and his vision expands, taking in the concerned yet relieved faces of Widow Lucas, Snow and David.
"Robin?" Snow says his name cautiously, like she's trying to gauge how alert he is at the moment. And he's not very - alert. Everything still feels … well, like a little bit of everything. His fingertips feel numb as if they were waking up after being held in the same position for a long time, flexing and twitching as pins and needles prickle at them as blood flushes; and his head aches. It's pounding. He can hear a drum beating in it, and it won't stop. Just keeps beating and beating and beating. "Robin?" Snow says again. "Do you know where you are? Do you remember what happened?"
What kind of a question is that? Of course he knows where he's at. He looks around, stares at their furrowed brows and tense gazes. On the opposite wall behind Widow Lucas is a huge tapestry with embroidered horses on it, so he knows. He's in Regina's chambers. Their chambers. He goes to say as much, but the words won't come. Why won't the words come? And how did he get here?
Panic sets in, his chest hurts, flares and then he remembers the arrow, and Andrew, and Regina on the floor next to Much just before he fell, Regina shouting his name, he tries to get up, panics, where are Roland and Regina? Where are his men?
"Roland– and Regina– where are they? How long–" He clears his throat. "How long have I been unconscious? And Much? I saw– I think he–" Robin knows the fate of his mate without needing to finish that thought. He remembers the dagger sticking out of his back, the way the hilt of the blade reflected moonlight. Funny what the mind chooses to remember, what tiny details it clings to. "How many others? How many others did we lose?" He turns to look at them, and then he realizes they still haven't answered his first question.
"Where are Roland and Regina?" He asks, voice become more clear and strong.
David and Snow look at each other knowingly and sympathy reaches their eyes.
"Roland is fine. He's with the Merry Men. Ruby dove in after you and pulled you from the moat shortly after you fell over the wall. There weren't that many casualties on our side. We were lucky. It was Nottingham and his …" But David's words are all starting to blur and a high pitch ringing fills Robin's ears.
Roland is fine. But the Prince has made no mention of Regina. In fact, Robin's sure he's avoiding her name altogether. Dread fills him, his heart starts pounding again, so loudly he can hear it in his head.
Thud thud thud.
"Where's Regina?" It's a whisper. So low, no one hears. David is still talking about damage to the castle and how they wrapped Much's body and gave him a proper burial. Flaming arrow and floating boat down the river. But Robin can't hear him, isn't listening past the panic and frustration that Regina still has not been mentioned.
Thud thud thud.
"Where's Regina?" He asks again. And still no one answers.
Thud thud thud.
So he raises his voice, says it a third time, "Where's Regina?!" He shakes his head a bit, and it makes him dizzy, spins the room in a god awful way that has his stomach churning and his eyes closing.
"Robin," Snow begins, coming up next to him and placing her hand on top of his. But he doesn't want that, nor does he want the way she's looking at him. Unshed tears glistening in her eyes. "She's ... gone. Regina's gone. They took her … but we'll get her back."
It sucker punches him in the gut and No! I'ave to find her I have to get to her, she's – He can't hear what else Snow attempts to tell him. He can't. He hears red. He sees red. He tastes red. Everything is red. Red is pounding inside his head. Not at them. At himself. At the fear. At his brother. At the men who took Regina from him. At the men who now have his … friend and lover and mother of his unborn child in their midst. He sees red.
Red red red.
And he has to find her, has to get to her, tries to get up but the pain. The pain shoots up his arm and into his shoulder.
"Don't be a fool," Widow Lucas says as Robin attempts to shove her off him, but the slight pressure of his wrist barely pushing against her shoulder lances a sharp, shooting heat up his arm straight to torn muscles and nerves and skin, flaring up the searing agony he felt moments ago upon waking. That and her hands guiding him back down to the pillow and into the warm comfort of furs convinces him to not try and get up again. "You're in no shape to go after her. You go now, and you'll just end up food for the beetles and maggots."
"I'm already going," David assures him, clapping on his knee. "We sent scouts. We know where they're keeping her. I'll bring her home, Robin. Both of them." Robin's eyes water and he blows out a shaky breath. They know. Good, that saves him from having to explain, saves his lungs and diaphragm from having to expand anymore than they have to. He's pretty sure that on top of everything else, his ribs are broken, because each inhale and exhales burns. "You have my word," David promises, without a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
Before Neverland, before that day in the stables when he saw a vulnerability in Regina unlike any he'd ever seen before, before the first curse broke and waging wars and trying to stay alive amongst warring kingdoms and political play, before all that he couldn't have imagined that one day he'd be telling a valued friend, telling a man that clearly loves a woman once known as the Evil Queen that he'd die before he let anything happen to her. But he would. It's the absolute truth, and that realization takes him by surprise.
For a long time now (regardless of the jokes and snide remarks and hard time that he constantly gives her), David has considered Regina family. He's not sure when it happened exactly, but it has and she is.
And no one – no one – gets away with hurting his family.
Disclaimer: I do not own them. Just the blood and sweat and tears that went into writing this.