A/N: Hey! Update for you in honor of... it's Saturday and I finally have time to stop and think.

For the record, I'm shuffling around the events from Regina's flashbacks in 'We Are Both,' and instead of a few days, it takes place over a couple weeks. So, she tried to run away and was caught by the barrier spell before chapter one, and then her parents left the castle for a few weeks. Her parents will come back and the rest of that episode's flashbacks will happen in the next chapter (well, I won't write it, but it will be implied).

Over the next week or so, life fell into a comfortable, if lonely, rhythm for Regina. Although the activity in the castle heightened as the wedding drew closer, the queen-to-be spent most of her time alone. She remained in her chambers or alone in the courtyard unless she was expected to spend time with the king and his daughter for dinner, or join them on a horseback ride around the castle grounds. Those were the worst. Being around horses always reminded her of Daniel. Fortunately, she wasn't expected to enter the stables. Both the King and Princess were accustomed to having their horses groomed, saddled, and led out to them, without ever having to enter the stables, something Regina could never have fathomed doing before Daniel's death. But now, she was grateful for the excuse to avoid the painful reminder of her fiancé's death.

The presence of her apple tree in the courtyard— which she had finally learned the way to— calmed her more than she cared to admit, but she was still incredibly lonely. She liked to think of herself as pretty self-reliant, and she'd never had that many people to talk to. But she'd always had Daniel. He had always been there for her. To talk to, to lean on. His death was still raw, and she thought of him nearly every minute. And gods, it hurt. He had been her strength, and without him she felt as if she would crumble to pieces. Just the thought of him hurt her terribly, but the idea of not thinking of him, of forgetting— that was truly unthinkable.

And her father had left, too. His absence hurt almost as much as Daniel's, because even in these terrible weeks after Daniel's death, she hadalways, always had her father. Now, he was gone, too. He had wanted to stay with her, she had no doubt. But Cora was adamant that Regina have some time to adjust to living in Leopold's castle before the wedding, before she had to adjust to everything else that came with being married, and with being queen. And, well, Henry was scared of his wife. He had never been able to stand up to her, not even for Regina's sake. And while she knew he loved her, she missed him terribly. She wished bitterly that he was a bit stronger, that he had been able to stand up to Cora and be here with her when she needed him.

But he hadn't, and she was alone. The servants barely spoke to her. Her husband-to-be barely spoke to her. She could tell he didn't care one way or another whether she was happy. He'd simply decided that his daughter needed a mother, and that, somehow, she was best qualified for the position. Indeed, the only people who had said more than two sentences to since she arrived had been the young princess and the valet who had been bringing her meals.

Robin, she thought his name was? He seemed young, perhaps only a few years older than her. Certainly less than thirty. Perhaps that contributed to his willingness to talk to her, especially since nearly all of the other servants she had seen were older, in their forties at least. But, though he had assured her she could call on him for any reason, she didn't.

After all, her loneliness was her problem, not something she could put upon him to fix. Besides, all the servants were busy with preparations for her wedding, and she didn't want to force him to neglect his duties simply because she was lonely. So, she suffers in silence, though she does attempt to engage him in conversations that are more than just a few pleasantries exchanged when he brings her meals.

The last servant she had gone beyond that level of politeness with, she remembered with a pang, had been Daniel. But she's not replacing Daniel, she thinks fiercely. Of course not. She can't. His absence gnaws at her soul, a gaping wound in her heart that she doesn't think will ever be able to heal. No, Robin is just nice to her, friendlier than the other servants, helping her to hold onto her sanity in this big, lonely castle.

Robin cannot keep his mind off of her, the King's young bride-to-be. She's gorgeous, mesmerizing, her beauty catching him off guard more often than not. But it's not just that. She… intrigues him. He finds he enjoys talking to her, and, despite her family's wealth, in no way does she behave like the spoiled Princess he expected. Instead, despite her attempts to act haughty and distant, she is incredibly genuine, despite the sadness in her eyes. It's the sort of sadness that someone so young should never experience, he finds himself thinking. He can always see it, a constant pain in her eyes, dimmed all too rarely by that brilliant smile of hers.

Too often, he finds his thoughts straying to what he could do to be the one to put that smile on her face again. He's done it only once, when he told her that her tree had been planted in the courtyard, and he longs to see it grace her lips once more. But, always, he pulls his mind away from that train of thought. These are not appropriate thoughts for a mere valet to be having about the soon-to-be wife of the king.

Nonetheless, he finds that the moments when he brings her her meals, and she engages him in conversation for a few minutes, are the bright spot of this day. He finds himself wishing, as he goes about his duties, to hear the telltale chime of the bell that means she's summoning him. But, she's very independent–also unexpected in someone of her status–and hasn't used it since that first day when he showed her the way to her apple tree. He finds himself straining for a glimpse of her anytime he's near the courtyard, as her tree is the only thing that can cause the sadness to fade from her eyes for more than an instant.

Two weeks before the wedding, she is 'invited'– she couldn't refuse, though she desperately wants to– to have dinner with King Leopold in his dining room, in his private chambers. For the first time, she sees him without his daughter. Dinner is an incredibly quiet affair. He comments on the food, she agrees with him, yes, it's delicious, and he asks her to confirm whether anyone other than her mother and father will be attending the wedding. Other than that, the only sound in the room is the clinking of flatware against fine crystal dishes.

When dinner is over, she eagerly leaves his chambers. She must not be paying attention to where she's going because she suddenly finds herself in an unfamiliar part of the castle. It is already late, and she is longing for bed, but every time she thinks she knows where she is, she turns a corner and finds herself incredibly lost once more.

She continues this way for what seems like ages, and surely it's the middle of the night by now. She grows more and more frustrated, and snaps when she hears a voice come from behind her unexpectedly.

"Princess Regina?"

"What!?" She whirls around to face whoever is behind her. "Let me guess, I'm not supposed to be here!? Well, I assure you, I don't want to be here, but–" she stops mid-rant when she sees that it's Robin. He has been nice to her— he's the only one here who's been genuinely nice— and he doesn't deserve her abuse.

"Oh, it's you. Sorry, I thought you were…"

"Someone else? Well, it's nice to know I am not the target of your ire. Are you lost?"

"Yes," she says sheepishly, looking at her feet." I was… having dinner with the king. In his chambers. I've never been there before. I guess I took a wrong turn."

"You took several wrong turns, I suspect." He says, sounding a bit amused, but there is no condemnation in his voice. "These are the servants quarters. Come on, I'll take you back to your chambers."

"That's not necessary. Just point me in the right direction. I'm sure you were looking forward to going to bed for the night."

"Nonsense. It's practically a maze down here. You'll just get lost again."

He begins walking purposefully down the hallway, indicating for her to follow. Several minutes later, they're standing in front of the door to her chambers.

"Thank you," she says.

"No problem," he replies, "it's easy to get lost down there." He pauses for a moment, considering. "Tell you what, how about I show you around the whole castle tomorrow? That way, at least you'll have seen it all, and have a better chance of finding your way around." There's a little bit of selfishness in the offer— an excuse for him to spend more time with her— but he hopes it's also something that will genuinely help her.

"Are you sure?" She asks." I know everyone is busy… with the wedding. I don't want to take you away If there're things you need to be doing."

"I told you," he responds, "my job is to make sure you have what you need. And if tonight is any indication, you desperately need a tour of the castle, my lady. After all, the queen needs to know her way around." He grins at her." I'll see you tomorrow." He calls as he walks back down the hallway towards the servants chambers.

The next day, she smiles at him as he enters her sitting room with the midday meal.

"Hello," she says as he begins to set out the meal for her. "You were going to show me around the castle this afternoon, right?"

He nods.

"Unless –" she rushes to add, "unless you have something else you need to be doing."

When she moves to continue speaking, he holds up a hand to silence her. "I told you before, my lady, your needs are my first priority."

"Alright. I just–I've seen… I just don't want you to get in trouble."

"I assure you, I won't. It is far more important for me to see that your needs are taken care of than to join in on a chore that six others are already working on, and that could easily be completed by two. Besides," he adds with a grin, "I could hardly get in trouble for helping the future queen learn her way around her new home."

"Good point." She says with a sigh. "In that case, why don't you join me?" She asks, gesturing at the food he had just set out. "that way, I won't have to call you when I'm ready to begin my… tour."

"My lady,…" he began awkwardly," I'm not sure that's… entirely appropriate."

"Oh, I'm sure it's not. But, I don't much care. I've had my fill of 'appropriate.' I'm looking forward to this afternoon— it's the first thing I've looked forward to in ages, and I don't want to wait any longer than I have to. Besides, it'll be… nice to have someone to dine with."

"Very well, my lady," he says, joining her at the table.

He feels awkward as he sits down, unsure of the proper etiquette, as he tries to maintain his professionalism. It doesn't help that this was the longest he had been in a room with her since she arrived, and his interest in her refuses to quiet, leaving a thousand questions burning on his tongue.

A few moments pass before she speaks. "Eat." He raises a hand in protest, but she silences him with a look. "Eat. I never finish all this food, and I'm sure I'm keeping you from the meal you would normally be having elsewhere. Besides, I want someone to dine with for once, and it hardly counts if you don't eat anything."

"Alright," he answers, reaching for a roll, but determined to take as little food as possible from her table, "but –you shared a meal with the king yesterday evening, did you not?"

"I did," she affirms, "but it hardly counts– he barely speaks to me. No one in this castle speaks to me," she adds, frustration evident in her voice.

"Ah," he says, " and is that also requisite for sharing a meal with you? Conversation?"

She gives a slight smile at that. "Well, I won't force you, but I do hope so. I think my chances with you I better than most, since I'm pretty sure that you're the only person who has spoken to me in complete sentences since my mother left," she says with a sigh.

Ah, so she was lonely. More so than he'd realized, if even the king– her husband-to-be– didn't speak to her. But even that could not account for the great sadness he sees in her eyes. What had happened, he wonders, to cause that? But, he knows better than to ask, and instead says: "That's not true. I've noticed Princess Snow White speaking to you several times in the last few weeks."

"Yes, of course, Snow White. I had forgotten about her." She smiles, but there's a bitterness to it, and to her tone of voice, which gives him pause.

"You don't like the princess? I thought you seemed rather fond of her."

"I… she's a sweet child. I just… it's… it's complicated." She says it with finality, and though he wonders what could possibly be complicated about her relationship with an 11-year-old, he lets the subject drop.

She engages him in conversation about the castle, the size of it, what rooms it contains, as she has seen very little of it outside her chambers.

A short time later, they finish the food, and leave her chambers for the tour. For a while, the only conversation between them is his explaining the various rooms— ballrooms, libraries, living quarters— and attempting to explain what routes she could use when she expresses interest in revisiting a part of the castle. But, it's a big castle, and eventually his curiosity gets the best of him.

"Forgive my impertinence, my lady, but I must say, you are… not at all what I expected."

"And what, may I ask, did you expect?"

He falters, unsure how to phrase it without sounding rude. Finally, he settles on, "someone a little less… polite, I guess."

"You mean you were expecting me to be a spoiled brat." She says, with just a hint of a smile on her lips.

"well… yes," he admits, "though I wouldn't have used those words. But, rest assured, your behavior been a pleasant surprise. Although I do wonder," he adds carefully, "how it happened that you… don't behave that way, considering…"

"My mother," she finishes for him when he trails off.

He nods sheepishly, embarrassed at his own curiosity, but she continues, "A lot of people notice that about me. That I behave so differently from her. When I… Growing up, my mother wasn't the most… loving parent. I was mostly raised by nannies, and I saw how they were affected by my mother's behavior. Nothing was ever good enough for her, and it wore them out. I figured out that if I was polite, thanked them, they were happier, and less likely to… leave. I lost several— they left— because of how my mother treated them. Eventually, she started taking an interest in my education, preparing me to be a wife, to manage a household. I learned to give orders with confidence, to make sure things got done quickly and efficiently, but I never forgot to be polite about it."

"Ah. I bet you made some friends among the staff that way."

Her first thought is of Daniel, and she balks at the question. "I'm sorry, I've upset you." He says immediately, when he notices a strange look come over her face. It's similar to look that she had had when he asked about her relationship with Snow White, but far more pained. She looks almost … haunted.

But suddenly she wants to talk to him, wants a friend, someone to talk to. Not about Daniel, but just about inconsequential things, just to have a proper conversation with someone who is not her mother, something she hasn't had in the months since Daniel died. And this man, this nice valet who is the only person to have had a proper conversation with her since she arrived at the castle, he doesn't know about Daniel, never has to know if she doesn't want to tell him. So she says, "No, it's okay. You might think that, but … no, not really. Everyone was too scared of my mother. No one wanted to … get very close, to make friends with me." And they were right, too, she thinks, remembering again Daniel's heart being crushed in her mother's fist.

That haunted look is still in her eyes, and he has no idea what to say, no idea what is hurting her, let alone what could possibly help with it. "I'm so sorry. You must have been very lonely," he says, and it feels inadequate. He wants to touch her, to take her hand or touch her shoulder, to offer her some comfort that is more than just words. But he stops himself. Too forward, he thinks, reminding himself once again that she is to be queen.

She nods, a sad smile gracing her features. "I still am. But I'm okay. I have my apple tree … I guess it's the closest thing I have to a friend right now. And an occasional conversation with you helps keep me from going crazy, so I suppose I should thank you." She smiles then, shrugging off her loneliness.

Before he could come up anything to say in response, she turned the conversation to him. "But I'm sure you don't want to hear any more about my sad little life. What about you? Friends? Family?"

"I…" he floundered at the sudden change of subject, "My parents are dead. Died when I was a kid. And as for friends… I never had much chance to make any. Most of my efforts… I didn't have many chances to make friends— and here, well, no one has any interest in befriending me. Most of the other staff are… well, we don't really have compatible personalities."

"By which you mean they're all old and stodgy, and you're younger and actually have a personality." She smirks, and he nods sheepishly. "I'd noticed that. How old are you, anyway?" her hand flew to her mouth, as she caught herself. "No, sorry, that's an incredibly personal question. You don't have to answer that." She backtracks.

"That's alright, my lady. I certainly understand the curiosity. I will answer your question…" he says, with a slight smirk, "if you tell me the same."

"That seems an acceptable bargain," she replies with mock seriousness, "I'm eighteen."

"Twenty-three," he tells her, stunned. He had suspected that she was young, but eighteen? The king was, indeed, old enough to be her father, perhaps even her grandfather. But, he reminded himself once again, the king was his monarch and his benefactor and he shouldn't question him.

"Hm," she was saying, when he returned his attention to her, "I'd thought you were a bit older than that. When is your birthday?"

"It was just last month, my lady. When is yours?" he asks, and he was pushing his luck now, desperately curious, but he didn't expect her to answer.

To his surprise she did: "It'll be in … six? No, five— five months." She paused before asking her next question: "How did you end up working here when everyone else is… older?"

"That, my lady, is an interesting story, however, I am afraid it will have to wait." By this point they had arrived outside the door of her chambers. "The tour is complete, and I believe you are sharing the evening meal with the king and his daughter in a few hours."

"Yes, I am," she responds, opening the door. He follows her inside and begins to clear away the dishes from the meal he had shared with her earlier. "Thank you," she calls after him as he turns to leave, "for the tour. And for the conversation."

After that, he became a bit bolder in his attempts to talk to her when he brought her meals. He stayed longer than he had grown accustomed to, exchanging more than just a few polite words with her. Occasionally, he shared a witty anecdote, something that had happened to him or another member of the staff, in an attempt to draw her out, and was sometimes rewarded with one of her dazzling smiles.

A/N: Thanks for your lovely reviews! I'm glad to hear you don't think Robin is too out of character (Regina, too, though I was less concerned about her!). He's hard to write because we haven't seen much of him on the show yet, but I'm doing my best to make sure he looks like the same person, even if his actions are a little different due to his position as a servant.

Hope you enjoyed, and tell me what you think!