A/N:Whew, this was a tough one. It's a different style from the previous chapters and I had quite a bit of trouble getting it out. It didn't come out at all like I planned, either.

One thing I'd like to clarify from the previous chapter: It's not that Robin is super perceptive about Regina at the wedding after only having known her a couple of weeks. It's just that, she's still really young, and not as good at hiding her feelings as she thinks she is. Robin's just the only person looking at her who cares to see beyond the surface of what she's trying to show. I tried to convey that in the chapter, but I don't think I'm all that good with the subtleties, so I thought I'd clarify.

Anyhow, hope you enjoy!

Following the wedding, and her mother's… abrupt departure, Regina was asked to meet with the head of staff to discuss her needs. She was still a bit shaken by what she had done to her mother, but without Cora looking over her shoulder, she felt more confident asking for what she truly wanted, rather than what was expected of her. Cora would never have stood for it, but the last thing Regina wanted was a bunch of servants waiting on her hand and foot all the time. Lonely she might be, but if they were going to treat her like a queen instead of a person, having more people around was hardly going to help that.

However, she still had quite a time convincing the man that she didn't need a large staff, that merely a lady's maid and a valet where entirely adequate, and his staff could clean her rooms on the same schedule as the rest of the castle.

After they'd gotten that sorted out, she didn't argue with him over his recommendation for a lady's maid. She surprised herself, however by asking for Robin as her valet. The man was scandalized, and Regina knew her mother would have been as well. But Cora was gone, she reminded herself,and Regina liked Robin. He had been kind to her, he had noticed she was upset at the wedding when no one else had, and having someone like that around might be the key to retaining her sanity.

Having convinced herself, she now faced the task of convincing the head of staff that he should be on her staff. Thanks to Cora, the man was convinced that Robin was unqualified.

"Your mother said—"

"My mother overreacted." she tried to convince him.

"But, your majesty––"

"I don't care." she insisted.

"But, he would have to be trained––"

"Then train him. I don't care," she burst out in exasperation. "I want him. He has been completely satisfactory these past few weeks, and he went above and beyond what was expected of him." She tried channeling her mother as much as possible, trying to emulate Cora's intimidating behavior, the attitude she had that didn't leave room for anyone to question her. "I believe he's qualified, I already have a rapport with him, and he is the one I want. So, train him in whatever he needs to know, and inform him that he will be my personal valet."

Her tone brokered no argument, and the man finally conceded to her wishes before he bowed and left the room.

The next day, Robin arrived at her chambers with a question on his lips.

"Your majesty, I was told that you had requested me to be your personal valet?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"I… I think you should reconsider," he began, but she cut him off.

"Now, don't you be trying to dissuade me too. I don't care whether or not anyone else thinks you're qualified. You've done perfectly well for me these past few weeks, and I don't want to have to break in anyone else. And while I understand that the staff has been incredibly busy, and you were more or less drafted into this position, and it's not your usual job, well, it is now."

"Very well, your majesty."

"Besides," she added more softly, "You're about the only person in this castle who's been nice to me. I like you. And I couldn't stand to get someone new who's afraid to even look me in the eye."

"Now that I can understand, my lady," he replied with a slight smile. "And… this is a significant promotion for me. Thank you for your faith in my abilities."

"Thank you. You can't understand how much it means to me to have someone to talk to." Someone who has no expectations of me, understands I'm out of my element, who won't judge, she added silently, giving him a grateful smile as he bowed and left the room.

Once all the wedding guests had left, life settled down and Regina fell into a pattern. The king spent most of his time traveling, and he rarely left his daughter at home. So, though she dreaded the days that the king and princess spent at home, more often than not, the young queen had the castle to herself. She turned to books to occupy her time, her secret magic lessons most mornings, and, of course, tending her apple tree. But, the bright spot in her day was always the conversations she had with her valet.

He had already endeared himself to her by being so kind and freely talking to her, unafraid of her even after his encounter with her mother. And as time passed she found herself opening up to him, being less careful with guarding her feelings. She was surprised to find herself trusting him. Even considering him a friend. A pleasant surprise, for she hadn't thought to find friendship in this castle.

Robin looked forward to seeing her, too. He wondered why he never saw her in the mornings, but she volunteered no information, and it wasn't his place to ask. He scheduled his day around her, bringing her food promptly at noon, and growing to expect to spend time talking with her as their conversations became more frequent.

Sometimes she would come up with excuses, little things for him to do, to keep the conversation going, instead of dismissing him. He often found himself holding a basket for her as she filled it with apples from her tree, for example. He saw right through the excuses, but as much as they enjoyed talking to each other, they both felt more comfortable not venturing too far beyond the boundaries of their established relationship.

"You never told me," she says one day, about two months after her wedding, when he brings her midday meal, "how you came to work at the palace. I seem to recall being promised that story."

"Well, my lady," he begins, sitting down across from her when he finished setting out the meal, "the short version is, I got lucky."

"Oh?"

"It was four, no, five? Five years ago now. I was helping out part time at a tavern nearby. It was the only job I could get, and I was barely making enough money to keep a roof over my head. The head of staff here at the time came into the tavern, and I guess I impressed him. I'm not really sure what happened, but he asked me to help him out the next day— there was a fair at the castle, I think. Some sort of big event, anyhow. I really needed the money, so I ran errands and helped clean up afterwards for him, and he invited me to come work here permanently. I mostly did odd jobs around the castle— I didn't have a permanent assignment, and I often delivered messages around the castle. Until you asked for me to be your valet. Something I never properly thanked you for, I might add."

"You thanked me. Several times, if I recall," she says with a smile.

"I just wanted you to know how grateful I am," he says sincerely. "I had expected to be nothing but a glorified errand boy for the next… fifteen years, at least. I guess I got lucky again, making such an impression on you."

"If you got lucky, so did I," she smiles at him, "You are much more pleasant company than whoever they would have stuck me with if I hadn't known to ask for you." He was selling himself short, she thought. He was diligent enough, he would soon have been promoted even without her influence.

She eats in silence for a moment, gesturing for him to take some of the food. Though he had grown accustomed to sitting down with her and talking, he maintained a strict sense of propriety, refusing to eat her food without an explicit invitation. "What happened to the man who hired you, if he is no longer head of staff?"

"He's dead," Robin says sadly. "He got ill and died last winter. Almost a year ago, now."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Robin," she says gently.

"I miss him very much at times. He was like a surrogate father to me. After my father died I was lost. I didn't have a clue what to do with myself, and no one to look up to, until he came along." He pauses a moment, overcome with grief. "But, at least I have my memories. And a place working here. I was afraid the new head would sack me, but I guess I'd proved my worth by then."

"I'm sure you proved your worth the first day. Why else would he have hired you full time? After all, you certainly proved your worth to me very quickly."

"I'm sure," he laughs softly. "I still wonder, though, why he asked me to help him that day in the first place."

"He never told you?"

"No. But I noticed something in the way he looked at me sometimes, like he was somewhere far away. Maybe I reminded him of someone."

Regina toys with the necklace Leopold had given her. The lavish gift the only concession he has made to her birthday. Aside from his actually being here, she thinks bitterly. There are no grand feasts to celebrate, not for her.

And why should there be? She is the second wife, the afterthought, who could never measure up to the woman he pines for, the dead Queen Eva. Everyone knows— or would know if they spared a thought for her. After all, he has made it abundantly clear that his heart is still with his dead wife. And even that wouldn't bother her, after all her heart is still with Daniel. But still he expects her to put on the queen's jewels and join him for dinner whenever he's here, to act the part of the loving wife. The hypocrisy, expecting her to behave that way, to feel that way, when he doesn't even try. Doesn't even pretend to care for her feelings.

She is pulled from her thoughts by the knock on the door, announcing Robin with her midday meal. He smiles as he greets her, but she can't manage to escape her melancholy thoughts long enough to return the greeting.

"Is something wrong, my lady?" he asks.

"No, I'm alright," she replies quietly.

"Are you certain? You seem… unhappy," he persists, and the genuine concern in his voice surprises her enough to prompt an honest response.

"What is there for me to be happy about?" she says, her voice tinged with the desperation and loneliness she feels.

"Your birthday, perhaps?" he reminds her.

"Oh, yes, a joyous occasion," she snaps sarcastically. "Nineteen years old, and—" She cuts herself off before she spits out all manner of things that she should not say. "Never mind. I just… don't have much to celebrate."

"Perhaps I can give you something," he says reaching under the cart carrying her meal to produce a bouquet of violets, and a single pink rose. "Happy birthday, my lady."

She gasps in surprise before hesitantly reaching out to take the flowers from his hand. "Robin… you didn't have to…"

"I know. I wanted to. It's not much, I know, not fancy gowns or jewels, but—"

"It's wonderful. Perfect," she declares, smiling at his gift, a gift from the heart, given out of genuine affection rather than expectation or duty. She looks up to meet his eyes, "Thank you, Robin."

"My pleasure, my lady," he says as he produces a vase for the flowers. "You deserve something to smile at on your birthday."

"What do you do with all these apples, my lady?" he asks her while she picks apples from her tree. It's finally spring, and the apples are ripe once more.

"I eat them," she says with a laugh.

"Well, of course you do, and they are delicious, but there are far too many here for just one person. What do you do with the rest of them? Unless you're going to tell me you'd let them spoil."

"No," she says with a laugh, "I give them to the kitchens. They use them for apple pies, turnovers, apple juice… And I— I used to… give some to the horses. Every day. But that was before…" Before Daniel died in her arms. Before even the thought of entering the stables felt like a knife through her heart. But all she said was: "Before I came here. Now I… don't ride as much. There's… nowhere to go."

"Well, the forest is dense, my lady, but I'm sure—"

"No." she interrupts harshly, "It's… it's not the same. Where I grew up… it was all farmland. There was one hill… you could see for miles. It felt like— like freedom." Her expression takes on a dreamy quality, as her mind turns to thoughts of Daniel, and happiness, and the hope that she's lost. But the peace at the memory lasts only a moment, and she feels her expression harden as she says flatly: "There's nothing like that here. Only endless forest, and this castle I can't escape."

"Oh," he begins, unsure of what to say. He starts to add something, offer some sort of comfort, but she cuts him off with a look, and they finish picking apples in silence.

Regina sat alone in her room, staring off into nothing as she tried to prevent the tears from coming. A year ago today, Daniel had died. A year ago, Snow White had betrayed her trust and destroyed her life. A year ago today, all her hopes for happiness were shattered.

A small blessing, she thought, that the king had left the day before, taking his insufferable daughter with him. She couldn't have handled playing mother to the girl, not today. And Regina is immensely grateful for that, but now she is all alone with nothing to prevent her from brooding, to distract her from her pain. Not even Rumplestiltskin. The lessons she's had with him most mornings since she came to the castle would be a welcome distraction today, but he's busy, off searching for something. She had tried practicing her magic, distracting herself, but it hadn't worked, she couldn't concentrate, and she had finally settled into this state, staring at the wall, concentrating all her efforts on not crying.

It didn't work.

As hard as she tried to hold back the pain, to prevent herself from giving into the tears, she couldn't. She had been pushing down the pain all year, and the anniversary hurt so much. And why shouldn't she cry? There was no one to keep up appearances for, and her mother was not here to accuse her of weakness.

She lets a single tear fall, and pretty soon she is sobbing into a throw pillow, unable to summon enough strength to return to her bed, unable to do anything but lie on the couch, mourning the life she should have had, would have had if Snow White had not gotten involved.

She cries for what feels like ages, finally falling into a stupor. Not quite asleep but close. An in-between state where her pain is muted, and she almost feels peaceful. Not happy, she has resigned herself to that. Happiness is gone from her life, but, for this moment at least, she can feel something close to peace.

Suddenly, she is awoken from her dream state by a knock on the door. Of course, she thinks. It is Robin bringing her midday meal. She hadn't realized she had been lying there for so long.

"Come in," she responds reflexively, standing up. She combs her fingers through her hair, hoping she doesn't look too much of a mess from crying and falling asleep on the couch.

"Good afternoon, my lady," he greets her, entirely focused on the cart he is wheeling into her sitting room. When she doesn't respond, he looks up, taking in the expression on her face.

"Is something wrong, my lady?" he asks softly. He studies her face, weighing his words, but his concern for her quickly overwhelms his sense of propriety and he adds, "Have you been crying?"

She stares at him silently for a moment, not really seeing him, but recalling all the conversations she has had with him over the last year. She has spoken to him about her childhood, her loneliness, her dream of freedom from this castle. Her façade has been slipping around him more and more, she realizes, and it has become increasingly difficult to put it back up. And, if she's honest with herself, she doesn't truly want to. He is offering comfort, she sees it in his eyes, and she desperately wants to take it. If she shuts him out, she'll just be alone again. Like always.

Besides, she couldn't hide it if she wanted to. It's clear on her face that she's been crying. Slowly, she nods.

He approaches her slowly, putting his hand out to touch her arm. It's a token gesture, he knows, an empty comfort, but he doesn't know what else to do. He can count the number of times he's touched her on one hand. This is new territory for him. The queen usually hides her feelings behind a mask, though it's not as impenetrable as she seems to think, it prevents most people from discerning her emotions when they don't look too closely. But today, she is disheveled, her hair a mess, her eyes red from tears. "Do you want to talk about it?" he offers.

She shakes her head. She's not ready. She hasn't told him about Daniel yet, and to talk about him… She's not sure yet if she's regained her composure enough to speak to Robin. If she were to talk about Daniel now, she would shatter into pieces.

"Alright," he says softly, "do you want me to leave? Would you like to be alone?"

She shakes her head vigorously, her eyes wild. "No!" she whispers, "no, being alone is… the last thing I want." It's the most truthful thing she could have said. She doesn't want to be alone, she never has. More than anything, she wants Daniel, wants him to be with her, to fill her life with love and happiness. But fate has seen fit to take him from her, to throw her into this void of loneliness, and there is no way out. But she can have this moment of comfort, she needs it more than she wants to admit.

"Ok, ok," he says soothingly. He moves his hand up her arm to her shoulder, and gently guides her back to the couch, saying, "Why don't you sit down?"

She does, and he sits down beside her. He strokes her hair, soothing, as he would a child. He doesn't move to embrace her, that would be too familiar a gesture, even in this already unorthodox situation. She surprises him though, by leaning forward and burying her face in his shoulder as he continues to stroke her hair.

She surprises herself, too. She doesn't cry, she's done crying. She's just hiding. Hiding from the world, silently taking the comfort he offers, the comfort she so desperately needs. He is the only person in the castle who has shown her any kindness, and for this moment, she just wants to pretend she isn't so completely alone.

They stay like that for a very long time, no words between them, just quiet comfort.

Finally, she raises her head, and he looks at her, unsure what happens next.

"I guess the food's gone cold," she grasps at the first thing that comes to mind to break the silence.

He stands, reaching over to check, slipping back into the familiar role. "So it has. Would you like me to bring you something hot, your majesty?"

"Regina," she says quietly.

"What?"

"Call me Regina," she says more confidently.

"Your majesty, I'm not sure…"

"Please, Robin. You just spent an hour comforting me over something you didn't even understand. You didn't have to do that. And you're the only person in the castle who has done anything more than tolerate me since I arrived. Please, use my name."

"Alright, Regina," he replies, and the smile that graces her face, small though it is, is a beautiful thing.

Over the next few weeks, with her occasional reminders, he grew used to addressing her by her given name when they were alone. Though he always maintained his professionalism, addressing her only as 'your majesty' when others were present, the presence of a friendly voice using her given name helped lift her spirits and eliminate just a bit of the loneliness that had plagued her since arriving at the castle the previous year.

A/N: I know, I know. Leopold's kinda horrible. I mean he's heartbroken, and that's understandable, but still. I don't think he ever mistreated Regina, though. I just think that, used to being king, he never stopped to consider her feelings. That was the impression I got from the show, anyhow. And, being a good king and father to Snow does not exempt him from being a horrible human being to Regina. And the way he praises Queen Eva to the skies right in front of her, like in "Fruit of the Poisonous Tree?" That had to destroy her self esteem.

Just for the record, this chapter takes place over about a year. Regina's birthday is February 1, and I set the wedding in September, so each coherent section is a few months apart. And Daniel died a few weeks before the wedding (in August), so the chapter ends just before their first anniversary.

Anyhow, hopefully the next couple chapters will be up sooner rather than later, because I was working on them instead of this one when it was giving me so much trouble.

Please leave a review, let me know what you think! I had trouble with the perfectionist in me just wanting to edit this to death, so I'm hoping for feedback that says it's not as bad as I think. :)