Update time! Thanks again for the reviews, everyone! There's been some clamouring for more OQ interaction after the last heavily R&H chapter - well, wish granted! This chapter is nothing but Regina and Robin scenes sprinkled with a bit of Snow. We're still staying in line with canon as we explore Regina and Robin's thoughts, feelings and reactions to the events between the scene with the letter and the kiss. I sure gave myself feels while writing this, so I hope it's contagious. ;) Enjoy!

Stunning in every way.

The letter was a lie. It had never been about her.

Why she was telling this man, why she was baring her soul to him, she couldn't have said. He was there, and he wasn't judging her. He wasn't blaming her, suspecting her, or using her.

Meanwhile, all everyone else seemed to care about was uncovering some horrible dark deed Regina had committed against Zelena in the past. In many cases, they'd find something, too, but this wasn't one of those. That made no difference, though, because no one seemed to believe her when she'd told them so. There was the lost year, as Granny had correctly pointed out. How could she know she hadn't gone Evil Queen on someone's ass then?

Because of the pain, that's how. It had hit her with ruthless abruptness back in Storybrooke - the knowledge of having lost what she loved most. She must have felt this debilitating pain just the same in the Enchanted Forest, only worse, because there had been no sign of an end to it anywhere in sight.

But pain had brought out her temper years ago, the simmering rage her magical tuition had been based on - and it made her do terrible things. Why had this time been any different?

Because it had been. Because this time it had been her son, her actual heart and lifeblood. There would have been no raging fury. Only pain. Indifference. A desire to simply disappear.

No, she had never hurt Zelena.

Perhaps Cora had. With their mother dead, could Zelena want revenge on her sister instead? Cora had never spoken about her, she'd never bothered telling Regina about a sister out there somewhere, a sister who just so happened to have had the same tutor Regina had. But there was the letter…

The letter Robin Hood was still holding, waiting for Regina to speak. Not about what she'd done to hurt the Witch or what she could do to defeat her; his concern was with Regina, how she felt about all of this. It was scary and it was nice. And so she told him, told him all about how she'd held on even in her darkest times to the faded words she'd wrongly claimed.

And he listened, and not a word of judgement passed his lips.

Stunning in every way.

Whoever thought those words weren't true was simply wrong. Maybe the letter didn't really mean Regina, but that did nothing to change the fact that the words applied to her.

As her quiet voice revealed reopened wounds, Robin couldn't take his eyes off of Regina's face. Every little twitch of muscle, the flutter of her eyelashes, the way her hair rippled softly and betrayed the slightest movement of her head, spoke volumes about what was really going on inside her. Her faraway look stifled any urge to interrupt the pained flow of words he could possibly have felt. It was hard enough for her as it was.

Was she really telling him all this, letting him see her so vulnerable, yet at the same time emanating a strength that mesmerised him? Her words rang with loneliness and a drop of bitter betrayal. He'd never been happier to have decided to lend an ear - even when she hadn't exactly asked for one.

When her eyes glazed over with emotion at one point, everything in him wanted to reach out to her, to lay a hand on her shoulder, to clasp hers and hope the strange surge of energy he was experiencing would get through to her. But he did nothing, because this was too much for her - and a lot for him to process. Why was this having such an effect on him? Why was she having such an effect on him? What was it about her?

Bold and audacious, he'd told her not long ago. Stunning, he would have said to her now, in every way.

How could he feel so strongly about someone he'd just met?

Perhaps they'd known each other during the lost year. Perhaps they'd even been…friends.

It had been a long time since she'd opened up to someone like this. It was stupid and reckless. But she'd needed it, and, to her own surprise, it helped.

If Rumple was right - and it would have been foolish to pretend anything else - Zelena's power surpassed that of Regina. How then was she supposed to defeat her?

Robin offered no empty words of comfort, no meaningless promises of how it would all be fine. Still, or perhaps exactly for that reason, a strange calmness came upon her as they sat there, silent and pensive, on opposite ends of the log.

"You'll take her on anyway."

It wasn't a question, he was merely stating a fact. And of course she would, what else could she do? She didn't run from monsters, they ran from her. But just how monstrous was Zelena? Evil wasn't born, after all, it was made, and it would have been impossible not to draw parallels between herself and Zelena even if they didn't share a mother. There was, however, one crucial piece of the puzzle missing: what did Zelena really want, and where did this deep hatred for Regina come from?

Robin leaned towards her - only by an inch, but it was enough to catch her attention. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"It's one on one, just Zelena and I." Even if it weren't, what chance could he possibly stand against a witch more powerful than even Regina was? No, this was their battle, their witch fight.

A witch fight. Of course. Maybe Zelena was counting on this, but still it would slow her down somewhat. And Regina would live, and she'd have gained an advantage because Zelena would gloat while they battled, she would blab, she would reveal at least some part of her plan - maybe unwittingly, but she would, and maybe it would be enough to get them started.

Regina's only done it twice before, but this wasn't a thing one could easily forget. Where would she deposit it? The usual place, most likely: her vault and a bunch of protection spells were her best bet. Regina shifted on the log. Her vault had been broken into before, and everyone knew about it. If she were Zelena, it would be the first place she'd look. What other options were there?

"Bold and audacious," Robin sighed, his brow furrowed, but when she looked at him, somewhat surprised by the unexpected intrusion to her thought process, there was a smile playing on his lips. For some reason, her own lips twitched. She was both of those things, really, the only thing strange was that he'd make such an accurate observation after just several minutes in her company, and not consider those traits a complete turn off. In fact, they resembled a compliment if anything.

"Even if chances are skewed in Zelena's favour, we're many against one. Where I come from," Robin began - where had she heard those words before? "There's an ancient saying that goes sursum corda."

"'Lift up your hearts'," Regina nodded. "It's of religious origin." Why was he bringing this up now? It was a curious coincidence, and an impending shiver made Regina sit up straighter.

"Perhaps, but it's used in lieu of 'take courage'. It felt appropriate somehow." Robin shrugged, as if he himself wasn't sure just why he'd felt that way. "Lift up your heart," he repeated softly, perhaps more to himself than her.

"My heart is dark." This was the last thing that should have come up, yet it had just popped out of her mouth. Something strange was definitely at play here, and it wasn't just the bitter taste of her own words.

If Zelena wanted her death, the state of her heart didn't matter. Conversely, in case she needed a heart for a reason other than killing her, it wouldn't be Regina's she'd choose - spells notoriously required ingredients of purity. Even to enact the Dark Curse you needed to sacrifice the purest, brightest part of your dark soul - the thing you loved most. So in this respect, Regina had no reason to worry about her heart being dark or not. Now wasn't the time for remorse, either, so she'd better get a grip.

"When was the last time you looked?"

Robin's direct, unabashed look came as something of a shock. Why wasn't he at all uncomfortable with this? Of course he'd already told her he didn't really see her as the Evil Queen, and that was all nice and well, but her heart really was dark, and he should be concerned, if not repulsed, by that. Regina's hand rested on her chest. Even though Robin had no way of knowing the plan she'd been weaving, he'd unknowingly steered the conversation towards hearts, and now it'd veered to a particular heart - her own.

He was still watching her, intent and unflinching, yet somehow unintrusive as well. As refreshing and nice as it was to have someone look at her and not see the woman she didn't really want to be anymore, that woman was still part of her, and the mark of her atrocious deeds was still very much there: in the lives of those she'd harmed and her own, and it was literally marking her heart black. It was nice to see a friendly face, and if she let him see it in all its naked ugliness, chances were he'd never want to speak a word to her again. But what was the point of him being there just because he didn't know better?

"I'll show you." It was crazy. She was being a fool. Yet somehow it made perfect sense. Now he'd see - and then she'd know what this really meant, if it meant anything at all.

When she laid her hand directly over her heart, Robin stiffened.

"Regina, wh-"

She gasped a little as her fingers plunged into her chest. Robin's eyes widened and his arm shot out to her as if to stop her, then froze midair. It hurt, removing your heart, and Regina screwed up her face as she wrapped her fingers around it and pulled on the soft, warm organ. Something seemed to break, a thousand threads holding it in, a jumble of emotions housed in this heart of hers. Henry's face swam before her eyes, that look of no recognition, and the pain it ignited seemed to dull somewhat as she slid her hand back out smoothly. There it was, sitting safely on her palm, hard and dark. It had been darker and harder yet in Neverland - or maybe that was only what she wanted to see.

Robin was still coming to terms with what he'd just witnessed. As her breathing evened, his face slowly lost the shocked expression, and his eyes travelled from her palm to her face.

"Are you alright?"

Regina swallowed. He was still concerned. Her hand shook as she held the heart out for him to look at. Suddenly she was fighting the urge to hide it from him, to never let him see who she'd been - who she might still be. But she withdraw her hand, didn't close her fist to hide it.

"I see some black," he admitted. A chill ran through her, and her stomach sank.

Well, it wasn't as though she hadn't known. Now he saw it, too. This was it, wasn't it? So why didn't he recoil? Instead, he tilted his head and gave her a direct, candid look. "I see a lot of red, too."

Regina merely stared at him. This man right here had told her he saw her as Regina rather than the Evil Queen, and even in the face of her less than perfect heart, he seemed to have maintained that attitude. Regina Mills, the former Evil Queen, had just been rendered speechless. It was incomprehensible…and so very uplifting.

"Put it back," Robin implored. "Please."

"Where I come from," Regina answered with an involuntary groan, because her body had still not accommodated fully to the loss it had just suffered, "you don't bring your heart to a witch fight."

"Ah," he nodded. "I see. But - you'll be fine?"

"I will."

It was the smile he gave her then that did it. Actually, it was everything else, too: he'd been there for her when everyone else had written her off, and he'd expressed concern for her without being a nuisance. Not many had managed that, or bothered to try. And now he wasn't even put off by the glaring evidence of her past. It was all of this plus the strange connection she felt. But this smile, so warm and so genuine, well this was when she made a decisions she would either bless or regret for the rest of her life.

"So will my heart, if it's kept safe."

Robin's eyes widened once again as her hand went out to him, her fingers releasing their hold on the beating heart. As understanding dawned on him, he regarded her with a mix of confusion and something close to - admiration? But he still made no move to accept what she was offering him in this gesture bolder than any she could recall.

"You said you wanted to help."

Robin licked his lips and seemed about to say something, but then he just reached for the heart that still sat in her hand. The moment his fingers touched it, his breath hitched and he gave her an anxious look. Regina inhaled sharply. It was peculiar to have someone else touching it, but it still felt oddly, inexplicably safe. The way he was looking at it - looking at her - as though he were afraid the thing would break under his touch seemed to suggest she wasn't making such a big mistake after all.

Perhaps they'd known each other during the lost year. Perhaps they'd…talked.

The beat of Regina's heart against his palm lingered despite him having deposited it in a safer place for now. It had to be the strangest thing he'd ever done, holding her heart like that. She'd barely turned to leave when he planted his feet firmly on the forest floor, bow at the ready, intent on protecting the precious thing with all he had.

Now that she was gone, a peculiar mood had crept on Robin. The forest seemed empty but for him. The citizens of Storybrooke would be so much closer to the epicentre of this showdown, whereas he was isolated. But that was the point: for Regina's heart to be far away from her chest, where hopefully Zelena would not know to look for it. Still, the trees or birds or wind wouldn't betray any of the course of events to him, so he'd be left in the dark until Regina returned.

If something bad happened during the fight, would it show on her heart? Would it beat faster in the heat of battle? Would he be able to tell if she wasn't faring well? They were disturbing thoughts, just like a dislodged heart was an eerie phenomenon, but he couldn't shake the urge to know how she was doing.

Regina's plan was a simple but clever one, and the execution required a lot of courage. Yet she hadn't wavered, not even when she believed she couldn't win. When she'd so matter-of-factly ridden herself of her heart, her face screwed up in pain he couldn't even imagine, it wasn't a blackened heart he'd seen. It was a strong heart, a brave one - and at the same time, fragile.

He'd been allowed a glimpse of her not many had had the privilege to see. Regina was a complicated woman, and her complexity only drew him in further. The pure wonder, the astonishment written in her eyes when he hadn't backed away in disgust or fear at the sight of her heart, were more telling than any words she might have said. Others have seen, he'd read loud and clear in her eyes, they see me like this and they turn away from me. Well, it was their own stupid fault if they couldn't see past the surface to the person underneath. He'd had a hunch, he'd been allowed insight, and what he'd seen only made him crave more.

Robin's eyes travelled, once again, to the spot where the heart rested hidden. She'd chosen him of all people, which was flattering. But no, it wasn't because he was so very special, more likely because he'd been in the right place at the right time. One thing was sure: he was going to keep it safe for her.

His eyes scanned the forest, every movement, every sound, waiting for someone - Zelena or Rumple or a flying beast - to come claim it. He was ready to defend it. He refused himself the lenience to look too often to the hiding place lest an unseen observer should guess the location of his charge. Robin kept watching for a flash of red, Regina's scarf or her gloves, he listened for her brisk stride, waited for her to return, unharmed and ready to reclaim the heart she was missing.

When she finally did arrive, it wasn't in a stride quite like he'd expected. He could have laughed for joy to see her safe and mostly sound, and the onslaught of relief startled him. Robin lowered his bow and at the same tightened his hold on it, finding the only outlet for the mighty urge to touch her: maybe not hug her, but squeeze her hand or at least, well, pat her on the shoulder or something. Her eyes held a fire worthy of the Queen, but there was no malice, only victory. Then her features contorted the slightest bit, and she staggered almost unnoticeably. Sure, she was keeping a steady pace, but the way she held her arms, a little too stiffly, and the way her steps seemed somehow more measured and cautious, betrayed injuries despite her fervent attempt at hiding the fact. Zelena had proven a tough adversary. But it was Regina who'd come out victorious, and Robin couldn't help his own smile at the sight of Regina's complacent one.

Robin exhaled as he returned the heart to her. They'd both made it: she'd outsmarted Zelena and he'd kept her heart safe for her. It was only now that the weight was lifted off his chest that he fully appreciated just how anxious he'd been to not fail her. He took a deep breath as she regarded her heart. Nothing was stopping her anymore, any moment now she'd replace it again, and the sight would undoubtedly be odd but comforting, too.

Except instead of taking it back, Regina slipped it into a pouch and looked at him with a curious, keen expression. Robin's spine tingled when she took his hand and held it in hers. The touch was warm even through her gloves, and it positively burned when she placed the pouch with her heart in it into his palm.

"Would you hold on to this for me?"

Was she really asking him to do this, entrusting him with it further? She'd called him a thief before, surely that didn't make him a good choice. But she seemed to mean it, and her eyes were unreadable but oh so full of an unidentifiable glow. At his hesitation, she pressed the pouch into his palm firmer.

Laughter rang in his ears: Roland's, his own, and, yes, it had to be Regina's, this was what she had to sound like when she laughed. The scent of apple and cinnamon engulfed him, and of course he'd smelled it before, though much fainter, back at the farmhouse when he'd briefly leaned over her to retrieve the whiskey from the shelf. His skin tingled and burned as fingernails traced patterns across his shoulder and dug into his back. He tasted wine mingled with smoke and honeyed apples on his lips, burning from a searing kiss he'd never had.

"You can't steal something that's been given to you."

If until now his hand had been burning under her touch, now it was time for a chill to run down his spine. Had she really-? Did she mean-? Could this mean-?

Her lips curled into a smile that suggested she was well aware of the effect her words had had, well aware of the potential meanings they carried. Bold and audacious.

Stunning in every way.

Whatever this meant, he wanted to find out. He needed to find out. She still owed him that drink, after all, and she didn't seem keen on shrinking the promise.

Precious little - that was as much as this awkward exercise had yielded. No help at all. All the trouble they'd gone to, and her mother had simply refused to show herself, to say a word.

Was it Regina? Or was it merely Cora's unwillingness to discuss the past Regina sought to uncover?

You would have been enough.

Well, she wasn't. Again.

Even in death, her mother couldn't find it in her to care deeply enough to really help Regina. It was Cora's failure, not Regina's. As much as it hurt, it was time Regina stopped desperately seeking her mother's approval. It had been unhealthy for too long, and for this Regina wasn't at fault. There were plenty of things in Regina's past to dwell on, plenty of deeds she had to shoulder responsibility for without assuming blame for Cora's mistakes, too.

China clinked softly as Snow put away the last clean saucer. Regina glanced at her: Snow White with her very pregnant bump, permanently swollen these days, voluntarily staying behind here while everyone else was gone. Much to Regina's surprise, she'd so far respected her wish to not overanalyse the recent events. In fact, Snow had been quiet the entire time in the kitchen. That must have required unusual willpower - knowing her, all she wanted to do was discuss every little detail with Regina, and even come up with some kind of a silver lining to the whole mess.

It was too soon, though, so when Snow returned her look, Regina noted the parlour still needed cleaning up, and slipped out.

For Snow to stay on bed rest would probably have been too much to expect, but this readiness with the mop was too much regardless. Regina considered Snow's huge belly with a frown. Where was all this concern for Snow White coming from? They'd been enemies for so long, not so long ago Regina had been standing on the porch with Snow's darkened heart in her hand, and all she'd felt was malevolence, maybe with a hint of sadness because she'd known all too well what Snow's heart had been going through. And now?

Well, to be fair, Regina'd suspected for a while now, known when she'd been brewing protection spells with her thoughts all centred on Henry and this unborn baby of Snow's, whom Snow mustn't lose to an evil witch like she had Emma. And she could have ascribed the sentiment to mere guilt, to remorse, but if she wanted to be honest with herself, she had to admit it was so much more.

You don't just protect someone with your whole body and soul against a powerful force several times in the span of mere hours and deny the knot in your stomach when your protege ends up possessed by that force anyway. Nor can you deny the massive relief when they turn out fine in the end.

They had come a long way, Regina and Snow, and now they were sitting at the table joking about it, making light of their tangled past. And there fRegina was laying her soul bare, and Snow reached for her hand and Regina didn't slip away this time, and so their hands lay joined on the table before them, and here she was listening to Snow pouring soul into her - not the usual annoying pep talk way, either, but in a moment of genuine connection unlike anything they'd experienced before. And maybe for a moment, Regina believed Snow - maybe for a moment, she believed her heart could indeed one day find its way to happiness.

You don't live your life.

Her breath froze before her very eyes in the chilly night air, but if it weren't for that, Regina wouldn't know about the cold with the heat rising in her cheeks and stomach.

Don't let anything hold you back.

Twice today, Regina'd been advised to take risks. Twice, she'd been made to wonder whether the walls she'd built to keep people - and, by extension, pain - out were also keeping her from something else, something she might want. No, something she did want. Twice, Regina's thoughts had drifted towards the forest, dwelling on a very particular former outlaw.

And now Regina was following those thoughts.

Her mind was working feverishly, desperate for a plan, grasping for words to say to him. None came, and the rising panic was becoming harder and harder to fight with every step, and it only grew as she got closer and closer to the Merry Men's camp. Perhaps when she saw him, she'd know what to do.

The smell of smoke hit her nose, faint and strangely savoury. He jumped up when he saw her, and Regina's heart fluttered - how ironic, since she literally had none at the moment.

"M'lady…"

The guilt on his face couldn't be any clearer, and the renewed apology did strange things to her this time around. It seemed to matter so much to him. Was this only ego, only his honour speaking? Or was it really care in his eyes and his voice and his posture? For her?

She should say something to him. She should say something now. But she'd already told him he wasn't to blame, that his child should always come first. And it wasn't what she'd come here for anyway. Words weren't Regina's strong suit, at least not in this kind of situation, especially not when she was emotional - and right now, she was a positive thunderstorm of emotion. Suddenly, she didn't think she could take the intensity of it all any longer.

Grabbing the lapels of his coat, Regina pulled him to her with desperate want, their lips crashing together like there was no tomorrow.

He tasted of clove and honey, he smelled like forest and tasted like forest, and she pressed herself to him, as close to him as she could and dared. Regina was kissing him with a hunger that scared her, except he was letting it happen, too, he wasn't pushing her away. But he wasn't responding either, or at least not in a way that would feel quite right.

Regina pulled back, panic threatening to engulf her again, shame and humiliation on the brink of breaking over her. Was he going to reject her here and now? Was her new-found will to take a chance going to be her doom after all?

His eyes betrayed utter befuddlement, maybe even shock. They said many other things she couldn't quite understand, but disgust or scorn weren't one of them.

And then he was diving for her, crashing against her with a passion that made her stagger. But the next moment he was holding her close, kissing her with fervour that made all her worries disappear. Yes, her heart was screaming somewhere, yes, and if Zelena was by any chance looking, maybe she'd even see the way Regina's heart hammered from the heat of the kiss and the tight embrace and the light-headed joy of it all. Robin's hand went up to her hair, brushing through it and swiping her cheek on the way, and Regina couldn't help the sigh that escaped her at the sensation. Her skin seemed to come alive under his touch, her nerves were tingling with life unlike she'd remembered in a long time. And still their lips remained locked, and he was showing no sign of wanting to let go. So perhaps he didn't want to.

Neither did she.