The stone of the cell feels colder than it did before, and the rain's returned with a vengeance.
She's in a different cell this time-a smaller one, positioned in the back of the jail-and this time, she's been gifted with a view of the gallows. Her wrists and ankles are bound with metal shackles, and the chain that keeps her in place against the wall is less than an arm's length, making it impossible to look away.
Once more, she'd been reminded of the evil inside of her and-when they were alone-Leopold told her that part of her punishment would be to see the suffering she'd caused before she died so the last thing she would think of was pain and suffering she'd brought down upon her lover.
His tone turned bitter at that-at the word lover-and it was almost as if he knew what happened between her and Robin in the cellar. Truthfully, she didn't care if Leopold knew and she didn't care if Robin had told him; it didn't embarrass her that they'd been together in that way and she refused to consider it wrong, given the comfort it brought to her. But what did bother her was the judgement in her husband's voice as if it proved something about her, as if it proved all of his assumptions right.
To him, it meant that she was evil, that she was a witch and that she deserved to die.
And what was worse was that it likely meant that he'd die, too.
After they were captured, they were separated. She was loaded into one jail wagon and he into another, and when the path at the end of the woods diverged, the wagon carrying him went the opposite way. She was taken back to the jail and Gold had taken a sick sort of pleasure binding her wrists up above her head and whipping her until her back bled.
She'd stood there-naked and on display-the wounds on her back stringing and her wrists and shoulders burning. She's refused to cry, though, and she refused to beg them stop-then, when Leopold crouched down in front of her and told her the whipping might force the evilness out of her, it took everything in her not to spit in his face. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that he'd gotten to her...
Though they'd taken Robin on an opposite path, he'd ended up at the church next door. From her cell, she could see it clearly and she'd desperately searched for a glimpse of him. It seemed silly to feel reassured that he was still alive-given that his fate and hers were all but sealed-but when she saw him struggling against the men who dragged him toward the church's annex, she felt the oddest sense of relief.
The relief was short-lived, of course.
A reverend arrived soon after carrying his bible and a glass bottle of holy water, and she could only assume they were about to perform some sort of exorcism to rid him of whatever demons she's unleashed on him-and judging from his screams, it didn't go well.
At sunrise, she'd finally caught of a glimpse of him as two men dragged him to the stocks, shoving him down and forcing his arms into the wooden holes. The locks were tight and even from her cell, she could see that they cut into his skin-and that was the only time she allowed their eyes to meet, and she found his lip was bloodied. He smiled though and offered her a wink, and she forced herself to look away, unable to accept the kind gesture-after all, it was her fault that he was going to die.
Leopold's words echoed in her ears, cutting at her in a way far more painful than the chains around her or the hard burlap of her dress that scratched against the fresh wounds-and for the first time, she wished that she'd died the day before because had she died, Robin's fate wouldn't be tied to hers. She missed the numbness she'd felt the day before and she missed the emptiness and acceptance she'd felt. Her fate was sealed and that was that, and then Robin-who, in less than a day's time, went from an absolute stranger to someone she cared for deeply, renewed her sense of hope. She hadn't realized how she'd fought against that and she hadn't realized how it'd burrowed inside of her and taken hold-and when she looked at Robin, bound and bloodied in the stocks, the regret that filled her was overwhelming and forced her to look away.
Turning away was difficult. The chains that held her against the cold stone wall were not long enough to allow her much movement and what little she could manage made the metal shackles around her wrists cut into her skin-but then, when she expected the chains to tighten, they instead loosened and she heard the sharp found of a brick scratching against another.
She stopped, stiffening as she looked around herself.
The jail was dark, and save the windows, there was no light inside, not even from a fire. She could just barely make out some of the gaunt faces of the other prisoners, but none of them awoke from the noise. Drawing in a breath, she slowly extended her hand out in front of her, grimacing as the bricks slid against each other and the shackles rubbed against her worn skin-and then, the brick came crashing down.
She held her breath and waited, but no one noticed-and when she looked up, she could see Robin eyeing the hole where the brick had once been.
Pressing her eyes closed she drew in another breath, still unable to look at him as her heart beat wildly in her chest and her fingers worked frantically to unwind the changes and shackles. Even though she knew that no one was there, she kept looking up-just waiting to be caught-and when one wrist was free, she easy unlocked the clasps on the shackles that bound her other wrist and her ankles
She felt a thrill run down her spine as her stomach churned both anxiety and exhilaration-and then, she realized that she was still trapped. She might have have freed herself from the chains, but she was still stuck in the cell-and upon that realization her eyes sunk closed and her shoulders slumped forward as she chastised herself for her stupidity, and for allowing herself to, even for just a moment, believe that she might be able to fix this and that may neither she nor Robin would have to lose his life with the coming morning.
Leaning back against the wall, Regina slowly sinks down as tears well in her eyes. Cool air comes in through the hole in the wall, making her shiver as she draws her knees up to her chest in an effort to keep warm-and as she rubs her hands over her knees, an odd memory stirs.
The clasps, she thinks.
They're pins-metal pins that locked and unlocked the shackles. Hesitantly, she opens her eyes to stare at the open shackle laying on the floor of the cell, just out of her reach. She remembers watching Robin pick the lock on the cellar and how the pick was a long iron pin almost identical to this one-and then, as she slowly reaches for it, she reminds herself that she doesn't have anything to lose.
It takes a bit of patience to pull the pin from the shackles, but almost as soon as she's separated it she is on her feet, sticking the pin into the lock. As she wiggles it around in an effort to pop open the lock, she notices another woman in the cell across from hers sitting up on the bench in her cell. She eyes her closely, but doesn't say anything-and then, as soon as she feels the lock spring open, she throws open the cell and sprints down the narrow corridor to the front of the jail.
The sky is light now and though everything is quiet and still, she knows the guard sleeping only a few lengths away from her would soon wake.
For a moment, she just stands there, contemplating what she should do-and again, Leopold's words echo deafeningly in her ears.
You'll watch your lover die.
Heat rises up the back of her neck as she remembers the smug judgmental look on his face and the way his eyes seemed to laugh, and the memory stirs something at her core. Before she can dwell for too long on the memory, she hears the faint sound of a carriage rattling, drawing closer and closer with each passing moment, likely coming toward the jail to take them to the gallows. Her stomach flops at the thought of it-the thought of Gold ordering Robin up onto the platform, forcing him when he refuses and pulling the noose down over his head, and she flinches when she thinks about the platform's bottom being pulled away and what that would mean for him.
Shifting nervously, she looks back at the sleeping guard, doubting that she'll have time to free Robin and escape with him-and as her eyes fall upon the guard, she notices Robin's bow and the quiver full of newly-sharpened arrows propped up against the wall just behind him.
Her skin prickles as she turns toward the guard and she swallows hard as she takes the first step-and then, as she takes another and then another, she feels herself growing bolder and less afraid. Beneath her breath, she starts to recite a prayer for protection-speaking in a language she hasn't been allowed to speak since her marriage-and when the guard begins to stir and his eyelids flutter, her voice only gets louder.
Regina keeps moving toward him and the prayer begins to sound like a chant, and his eyes open fully, they fill with a false realization that she's somehow possessed with demonic spirits-and to her great relief, he seems rooted in his place. Her heart pounds in her chest as the guard grips the arms of his chair, his eyes growing wide as she begins to mutter witch in a voice that's nothing less than terrified-and instead of giving in to her own fear, she takes advantage of his and lets a smile pull onto her lips.
"That's right," she tells him. "That's exactly what I am."
Reaching across him she holds her breath, fully aware that the man before her is big enough to overpower her and if he merely grabbed hold of her, he'd be able to push her back and it'd all be over for her-but he doesn't do that. Instead, he just cowers fearfully in his place as she takes hold of Robin's quiver; and then, keeping an eye on him, she also claims the bow.
"Don't move," she whispers cooly. "Not a bit."
"Don't kill-"
Her brow arches. "That's a funny request," she tells him, her voice sounding far more confident than she feels. "Considering the circumstances and what you were going to do to me."
"I am a good, God-fearing-"
"Stop." It surprises her that she does, and as she pulls away with the bow and quiver, she catches a glimpse of the key ring tied to his waist with a silky ribbon. "I'd be willing to barter."
"B-barter?"
"Your life for those keys."
"B-but-"
"You're married, right?"
"Don't hurt-"
"Give me the keys."
This time, he nods, his fingers trembling as he fumbles with the ribbon as he pulls the ring away from his body and hands it to her. Swallowing hard, she takes it and feels a bit of relief to see it only holds three keys. Backing up, she keeps a watchful eye on him, fully aware that as soon as her back is too him he could easily become more daring-so, with her own hands trembling, she pulls an arrow from the quiver.
It's harder to do than she once imagined, but as the rattling sound of a carriage grows closer, she realizes that it's now or never. If she does nothing Robin will likely die, and it's not like she'll actually kill this man… just… delay him.
Drawing the arrow back against her cheek, tears fill her eyes-and then as the rattling becomes louder, the guard begins to babble. He apologizes and and he pleads-and somehow, that only succeeds in infuriating her. No one listened when she cried, just as no one listened to the cries of a dozen women who hadn't done anything wrong, but nonetheless died; and no one listened to Robin's pleas-and unlike Robin and the others, this man wasn't innocent. He'd aided death and torture, and he hadn't cared about the lives he ruined. He didn't care about the motherless children left behind or the young girls whose lives were abruptly cut short-and as she considered that, she found it much easier to pull back the arrow and as she released it, she watched the guard's eyes widen.
Momentarily, she wondered what he was thinking or if he felt any remorse-but the wondering was fleeting. She didn't care, and as she let the arrow snap forward, she didn't wait to see where it struck him; she just knew the blow would not be a fatal one.
Regina ran toward the stocks as the rattling carriage drew closer and she smiled wistfully as she looked at Robin. His head was slouched to the side and he a little blood trickled from his mouth, and in other circumstances, she might consider death a better option than this-but not today.
"Hey…"
"Regina, what-"
Stooping down in front of him, she lets her hand coast up his stubbly cheek-and as his blue eyes turned up to meet hers, she leans in and presses a quick kiss to his lips. "I'm saving you."
"You shouldn't-"
"Can you argue later?" she asks, her brows arching as she rises up, keeping an eye on the road as she tries to first key-and when it doesn't fit, she tries another.
In the distance, she could hear a voice calling commands to a horse-and her breath catches in her throat. They were just around the bend and-
The lock clicks open and her eyes widen in surprise-and then, as she stands up, she opens the stock and Robin is able to stand.
He looks a bit wobbly as he straightens himself out. "Are you insane?"
"No, but the guard in there is under the impression I'm possessed by some sort of evil, voodoo spirit," she murmurs easily, looking between Robin and the road and watching as the horse and carriage comes into view. "And that's really no way to thank me for saving your ass."
"I believe you're just returning the favor," he retorts, laughing softly as he reaches for her-and together, they steal off into the woods and, this time, running to their freedom.