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ninzied · 8 years ago

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Blame It On the Mistletoe [OQ]

Robin searches for the perfect way to earn a kiss from someone special while Regina glowers her way through the holiday, pretending not to care who that special someone might (or might not) be. A Missing Year Christmas. For @onceuponanadvent. [ffn | ao3]

It’s almost Christmas, she’s forced to remind herself for no less than the tenth time that evening. It’s time for tinsel and holly and good will towards others, not for simmering tempers or the plotting of multiple deaths in the castle – well, just the one. She’d happily settle for one at the moment.

Christmas, Regina.

She takes a deep breath.

“Not a creature was stirring,” she carries on reading, more firmly this time as she flips to the following page. “Not even a—”

There’s more muffled giggling from one corner of the drawing room. The same insufferable corner that’s been trying on Regina’s last nerve for the better part of her evening, with all that maddening cheer and those secretive grins about whatever the hell they’ve been whispering away to each other.

“Regina?” pipes up a small voice by her ear, and the tension snaps between her shoulders, sapping right back out of her. “Not even a what?”

Big brown eyes blink expectantly up at her as she tilts her head down toward the boy – something creaking with the effort – and gives him a full-watted smile, as though she hasn’t just been glaring most murderously at his father on the other side of the room.

“Not even a mouse,” Regina tells Roland in a theatrical hush, and he looks rapt at the idea, wiggling closer to examine the book’s illustrations, a whole family of mice fast asleep in a tiny plaid mitten. “The stockings were hung by the chimney with care…”

Another bit of stifled laughter, and any hopes of St. Nicholas soon being there are ground to a halt as Regina clamps her teeth together, endeavoring not to explode.

She’d tasked the thief with stringing the garland – what should have been a quite simple thing, considering his qualifications as a forest person with some presumed knowledge of trees. She’d told him as much when he questioned her confidence that he could be something of use for a change, and she’d even been gracious enough to ignore him when he had the audacity to smile at her answer.

He was right, as it turns out. She should have known better than to trust him with this.

He’d apparently enlisted some help in one Belle and a Ruby, the three of them disappearing shortly after supper and returning long after what seemed entirely reasonable to Regina, looking flushed from the cold but pleased with their fresh armfuls of pine. They’d sat themselves down on a set of cushions closest to the hearth, and there they’ve been cozily huddled ever since, the box of ribbons and bells Regina had brought them forgotten on the floor as they sip on warm drinks and laugh about some story Robin’s just told them.

Belle’s response has Robin’s eyes crinkling with a half-held smile, and then he’s turning an ear toward Ruby as she chimes in and places a familiar hand on his knee, squeezing affectionately there.

“There’s a special plant for that, you know,” Ruby is saying, with a suggestive arch of an eyebrow at him, and then she seems to realize too late how loudly she’s just spoken, shrinking slyly into her mug with a not-so-sorry grin to match. Even Snow glances up from her knitting – an assortment of red woolly stockings already piled high by her armchair – and looks at her curiously, to which Ruby winks back before mouthing a mischievous Later that has Belle fighting a grin of her own.

Robin, however, is looking thoughtful all of a sudden, biting his lip as though he would have quite liked to know more if not for the audience they’ve made.

It would take almost no effort at all, thinks Regina, a mere flick of her wrist and those pointy pine needles could inflict some real damage, remind him of the work to be done instead of all this shameless flirting, ruining storytime with Roland and – speaking of Roland—

The boy is not so subtly craning his head over the book in her lap, in a clear attempt to see for himself what all this fuss with the “sugar plums” must be about, and Regina feels the anger leak out of her again, a nagging guilt filling up in its place.

“Here, why don’t we try this.” Regina scoots Roland back a little, liberating the book and standing it onto its spine for a second. With a wave of her free hand, the book gives a rustling shake before bouncing to hover mid-air in front of them, blocking the rest of the room from view. Its pages flatten of their own accord, and the sugar plums begin to dance a jerky stop-motion dance around slumbering children’s bonneted heads.

“Whoa,” says Roland a moment later when the book, quivering again, turns the page onto an open window and blows out a dusting of snowflakes at them.

He dabs a finger delightedly at each glittering clump on his clothes (“Look, Regina, it’s gone!”), and she smiles, feeling pleased that they finally have this small bit of space to themselves. She simply can’t be bothered with anything else, really, beyond the approach of St. Nick’s miniature sleigh, and the whoop Roland makes at the sight of his eight flying reindeer.

He nestles himself more snugly into the crook of her elbow while she narrates their little movie to him. It’s easier now to imagine those coy murmured sounds at the other end of the room as nothing but meaningless noise, and more than once Regina even almost-smiles to hear Leroy’s voice booming nearby, tipsily heckling Friar Tuck over a half glass of sherry and what otherwise would have been a rather solemn game of chess.

The animations have slowed their progress considerably, but Roland doesn’t seem to mind – quite the opposite, in fact, requesting that they turn the same page back several times to see St. Nick get stuck partway down the chimney yet again before tumbling out with a comical thunk!, like a plunger losing its suction, spraying up soot and spilling his satchel of toys.

“One more time?” Roland asks with hopeful, pleading eyes, and Regina looks apologetically at St. Nick as he stops brushing flecks of ash from his beard and sags his shoulders resignedly at them.

The reindeer, in their restless trotting along the roof of the book, eventually discover that they can leap right off the edge of the cover and into Roland’s lap, cantering about and thoroughly distracting the boy for a while, leaving St. Nick to unpack his toys at his leisure.

He’s looking quite jolly, smoking up a storm with his pipe and helping himself to another chunk of cookie when Robin’s silhouette looms into focus overhead. His expression is rueful but knowing as he gazes down at his son, and surely enough, Regina glances at Roland to find him blinking blearily up at them both, looking a bit sleep-dazed as she sits him upright. The reindeer, dozing in random folds of his cloak, stir drowsily, ears twitching as they stretch out wobbly legs.

“No, not yet,” Roland protests when Regina signals a hand for the book to close and stow itself away, and it might have sounded halfway convincing if not for his poorly stifled yawn punctuating the end of it.

St. Nick gives Roland a wave of goodbye before corralling his reindeer back to their sleigh, and they’re about to take flight – hooves scraping over the parchment, kicking up the last bit of snow – when the covers fold closed, tucking them all out of sight.

Roland looks despondent until Regina taps him gently on the nose, promising to pick up where they’d left off tomorrow, and then she’s scooping him onto her hip as she stands.

“Thank you, for spending the evening with him,” Robin tells her, and it’s then that she notices the full ropes of garland twined in one hand, fragrant branches of pine festooned with her bells and fastened together with red satin bows. Burrowed amongst the needles are tiny pine cones she hadn’t seen them bring in, suspended in place by drizzles of wax that could only have come from a drawer in her study.

Behind him, Ruby and Belle are nowhere in sight, but the chairs they had occupied are overflowing in wreathy mounds of garland now, looking half-alive in the crackle of firelight, and Regina lets the memories wrap around her and tighten for a moment, the scents of spiced apple, warm laughter in the kitchen, hot cocoa dashed with cinnamon as the whipped cream sinks and melts away.

“He’s quite fond of your company,” Robin continues, and Regina’s gaze snaps back to his with what she hopes is an indifferent expression. “He has also wondered on several occasions why no one else can tell a story quite like His Majesty can.”

“They can’t,” says Roland, turning round solemn eyes on her, and she feels herself crack open with a smile at that.

Robin is delicately setting his whorls of garland onto the end table next to her, arms held out for his son as she passes him carefully over. Roland immediately tucks his head beneath Robin’s chin, face pressing into his neck with a deep, sleepy sigh, and Regina, feeling slightly chilled without that warmth bundled into her side, fights the instinct to cross her arms over her belly instead.

Robin catches her glancing toward the garland again, his smile going crooked with something like shyness as he asks her, “How do they look?”

“Passable,” she says stiffly, closer to the truth than she might have allowed had Roland not been curled up in his arms, blinking those heavy eyelashes at her.

“I confess I had help,” Robin explains needlessly, scratching a hand over the back of his head with a sheepish expression.

“I can see that.”

“Actually I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter,” he goes on, even managing to look halfway chagrined about it, and she wonders why he’s telling her this. She couldn’t possibly care any less who he consorts with in his spare time, but she would prefer he not insult her intelligence about it.

Not that she’d ever grant him the satisfaction by admitting such a thing out loud.

“I’m sure,” she replies, toneless.

He seems to be waiting for something else – something more – from her, watching her with those relentless blue eyes, his patience unfathomable when all she can do is try not to set herself or any other part of the room on fire.

Her gaze wanders pointedly away from him until he’s caught on, politely clearing his throat. “We’ll take our leave for the night, then.” He nods his head to her, careful not to jostle Roland awake with the movement. “Your Majesty.”

They’ve gone from the room by the time she looks up again, seeing nothing but empty doorway ahead, and she stands there a moment longer before her attention is drawn back to the mountain of pine and red ribbon beside her. Ignoring the feel of Snow’s too-meddlesome eyes on her back, she trails a finger over the soft bed of leaves, feeling their needle-like tips and wishing, inexplicably, for an entire forest of pine to open up out of the ground and swallow her, soothing, into darkness.

…

Regina doesn’t have time to dwell on the thief in the days that follow, the castle a bustling racket of last-minute things and an air of general disorder that tends to precede such a large-scale event.

The garland, on her part, already hangs across every inch of available surface, spun around banisters and draped across curtains and hearths, everything sprinkled with tiny twinkling lights that brighten from afar and then gutter out whenever somebody gets too close. The lights are particularly baffling to all parties involved – “But how can a flame be so small?” and “Where’d you manage to find a plug in this joint, sister?” – with the small exception of one, Roland’s simple but enthused “It’s magic!” putting everyone else’s questions to shame.

To her everlasting exasperation, Regina gets placed on lighting duty as a result, her scowling refusal met with an equal resistance from Snow.

“I can ask the Merry Men to put up some torches instead, that might look nice,” Snow suggests, with an alarming gleam in her eye. “Or—” she adopts a tone of innocence that Regina has never found remotely convincing “—maybe there’s time for them to get us a tree? I know you would have preferred not to—”

“I’ll take care of the lights,” Regina snips, earning a radiant smile from Snow that makes her feel as though she’s lost yet again. She’s already humored her enough by agreeing to this whole heinous affair; after all of Roland’s beaming at the prospect of “Christmas,” which Snow had most deviously planted into his head, Regina simply couldn’t find it in her heart to refuse.

So she’d gamely thrown up a few festive twigs here and there, but she’d drawn the line at a fifty-foot tree, and it grates on her still that Snow could be so oblivious as to not understand why. It simply feels wrong that Christmas should not only go on as planned but do so in such a grandiose fashion, when there will be no cookies to put out before bedtime, no gifts to uncover with a jubilant “Santa was here!” while bacon sizzles on the stove…

Regina is finishing up in the ballroom, lost to her thoughts as she sends the last of the candles floating toward the ceiling, its flame safely cradled in a thin orb of glass.

“That’s quite a sight to behold,” comes a low rumbling remark from below.

His presence had come entirely unannounced, and she’s so startled by it that she loses her footing on the ladder, slipping down and landing – most mortifyingly – into Robin’s arms with a small noise of surprise. They circle around her as he stagger-steps backward, bracing her fall with the front of his torso, and she feels cold and unusually warm all at once.

She shoves him away the moment her heels touch the floor, irritated that he should look so smug when it was his fault to begin with for disrupting her balance.

“Have you not seen a candle before?” She straightens her garments, brushing out barely-there wrinkles with an affronted look in his direction.

“I have,” he says, maddeningly, his gaze never straying from hers.

“Then I fail to see why you had such a need to make a fuss,” she tells him repressively, flipping her hair back over one shoulder and folding her arms across her chest, fingertips tapping out an impatient rhythm.

“You missed a bit there,” says Robin, entirely unfazed by her grievance with him, and before she can put a stop to it he’s moving forward to catch a stray lock by her ear with his thumb, brushing it carefully back.

He drops the offending hand casually down to his side the next instant, as though nothing out of the ordinary has just happened. He smiles at her, and she stares at him, unsure how she ought to be feeling about this sudden liberty he’s taken with her.

Regina looks him up and down as though he’s hidden the answer from her somehow. He’s just come from outdoors, she realizes; there’s a rosy nip of color to his cheeks, a faint chill still clinging to his clothes that she can feel from where she stands. He looks refreshed from his walk or whatever the hell he’d been up to out there, content and untroubled by all the commotion around them, and perhaps it’s that which has made him so bold.

God knows she could do with some fresh air herself right about now, away from this place with its cloying good cheer and its sparkling resolve to forget.

Robin shifts just a little, his other hand slipping back into his cloak with a studied nonchalance that can’t go unnoticed, and the seconds seem to slow into something interminable as she stares at the glossy spiked leaves in his hand, the winking red berries as he disappears them out of her sight.

Her vision tunnels black at the edges for a long, peculiar moment.

She thinks she might be furious with him.

She’s all too aware of the fact that this thief is – admittedly – not a half-terrible one; he’s pulled one stunt too many right under her nose for her to blame it on sheer luck or coincidence alone, and she knows that he could have plucked those leaves straight out of her hair and made it look halfway convincing, had he desired it.

That he should have wanted her to see this, his badly feigned stashing away of something meant entirely to provoke a reaction from her, has her bristling with a dark need for him to look foolish for once.

“Do you have big plans for that holly?” she inquires, tone mocking.

Much to her satisfaction, a genuine flush creeps up his neck, his gaze dropping away on an abashed sort of chuckle. “Not precisely, no. It was not what I’d originally had in mind.”

“I imagine not,” she says sneeringly, and the image of him arm-in-arm with Ruby and Belle presses its way into her mind unbidden, a dangle of mistletoe and a too-innocent Well what do we have here? as he smirks and they giggle, leaning in for a kiss.

Regina thins her lips together, wishing she could have been spared the unpleasantness of having to think up such thoughts. Where Robin must’ve gotten the impression that she could care in the slightest about his romantic entanglements is, quite frankly, a mystery to her.

“I suppose I’ll just have to keep trying, then,” he says lightly, with a playful sort of resignation that grates on her all over again.

She scoffs out a harsh-sounding laugh. “Good luck with that.”

Any last semblance of levity seems to withdraw from Robin’s features, something cautious taking its place. He peers carefully up at her, brows knitting together as though he’s puzzling over what could have gotten her riled up in this way.

“Will I see you at the ball this evening?” he wonders after a moment, his tone now one of polite curiosity, and she blinks at him, derailed by this new line of questioning.

“Regrettably, yes.” Her hands curl around her elbows, pulling them closer without any conscious thought for this sudden need to hold herself in.

She can’t read the look in his eyes as he asks her next, “And the odds of you favoring me with a dance?”

He’s stretched back up to his full height, but still she manages to look down her nose at him as she replies stonily, “I don’t know what would possibly compel me to do something like that.”

He nods his head to her. “I understand.”

There doesn’t seem to be anything left for him to say beyond that, and after another few heavy seconds of silence that sit strangely in Regina’s chest, he excuses himself with a final, courteous tilt of his chin.

She watches him, motionless, as he makes his way across the hall, pausing near the door when Leroy hollers his name and gestures for some assistance with a lopsided wreath that he can’t quite reach on his own. Robin’s face splits into a mischievous grin at that, and he taunts him with something good-natured that has Leroy throwing his head back, laughter all but roaring out of him as Robin kneels and pretends to offer a shoulder to spot him.

It feels cowardly, somehow, like running away by resorting to magic, but Robin and Leroy are still by the door, and – damn it – there’s Charming too, walking in now with a look like he might get ideas about coming over to make conversation with her.

Grabbing the flame from a torch as it bobbles by (“Hey!” says Happy in protest, before catching the razor-sharp edge in her eye and beating a hasty retreat), Regina pulls it to pieces with her fingertips until three dozen flickering lights are half-bursting out of her palms. She wraps them in their little glass orbs, and just as Charming has lifted his hand to her in greeting, she lets go, scattering them everywhere with a tinkling brightness that briefly shields her from view.

The air around her smokes purple, churning, and as the hall spins itself out of focus, she thinks she sees movement by the door, a flash of deep green and a head turning back, before she looks rigidly away.

…

As evening approaches, a dread she can’t place takes root in her belly, turning over and over with alarming intent until there's hardly room left for anything else.

“I shouldn't be the one reminding you to eat something,” Snow scolds her during their midday meal, piling a sizable mound of peas onto her plate. “There. Finish your vegetables, Regina.”

She might have thought to refuse her had Roland not been dragging his father toward them at that precise moment, coming to an energetic halt with the top of his head barely visible over the edge of their table.

Robin hangs behind with a perfectly bland expression while Roland grins a toothy grin, faces Regina and asks in a manner he’d clearly rehearsed, “Will you please save a dance for me today, My Majesty?”

There’s an amused little humming from Snow, and even Charming on the other side of her appears to be fighting a smile.

Regina glances up at Robin, unable to contain her surprise. He’s grimacing an apology to her, as if to say he hadn’t been the one to put his son up to this, but he needn’t have gone to the trouble of making that clear; considering the cold way she’d treated him earlier, she can’t imagine why he would want her anywhere near his child.

“Only if it’s all right with your father,” she turns back to Roland with a kind but firm voice.

Roland rounds on him in an instant, clasping his hands dramatically together and wheedling, “Please, Papa? Please?”

“Of course it’s all right, my boy,” says Robin, looking mildly taken aback that it’s even a point worth debating, and his eyes alight on Regina’s again with a bright, piercing blue she hadn’t prepared for, taking her in for a moment. His forehead creases, gaze going soft, and his lips part like he might have something more he wants to say before they’re sliding into a lopsided smile instead.

“Okay,” says Roland with a pleased air of finality, pulling Regina back together, and her eyes move away from Robin’s. Roland is looking very serious, informing her in a solemn voice, “Papa says vegetables have magic too, and they will make me tall and strong just like him someday.”

Robin clears his throat. “Perhaps we’ll let Her Majesty finish the rest of her meal in peace, yeah?”

Roland beams. “See you later, Regina!”

“I look forward to it,” she tells him, feeling Robin’s gaze on her again.

“Bye, Princess Snow,” Roland adds with a wave, proceeding down the table, “Bye Mr. Charming, bye Mr. Grumpy,” and then Robin’s nudging him gently along before they wind up saying a personal goodbye to everyone at court.

“Looks like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree,” Snow murmurs slyly under her breath once they’ve headed back to their own table. She turns to side-eye Regina in a way that's not at all subtle, a knowing smile playing outrageously at the corners of her mouth.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Regina says shortly, pricking a single pea with her fork and raising it up to her lips. She takes a bored little nibble, pointedly reaching for her water glass next when Snow opens her mouth like this conversation is anything but over.

Charming comes to her unwitting rescue then, drawing Snow’s attention away with a query about caroling selections to go with dessert at the party (Regina bites down too hard on a pea at that, her teeth clacking painfully together).

They’re still in a heated debate over sing-alongs – “Is it really necessary to write out all of these lyrics?” and “They’ve been living in the woods for the last thirty years, David, of course they won’t know the words to ‘Carol of the Bells’” – when Regina slips quietly away from the table with an empty plate in her hand.

She takes the long way back to her bedchambers, avoiding the ballroom and all its festive reminders of what lies in store for the evening. Any lingering thoughts she’d entertained of skipping out on the ball altogether are rather pointless now that’s she promised Roland a dance, and the reality of it begins to settle like a deep ache in her bones, that Christmas is happening whether she likes it or not.

…

One dance. She’ll dance the one dance, and stay long enough to turn Robin down when he invariably tries to cut in.

That is, if he were anywhere to be found at the moment.

She’d seen him only briefly at dinner, glancing toward his corner of the banquet hall just in time to catch the Merry Men welcoming their two newest members, installing a rosy-cheeked Ruby next to Robin with Belle bouncing a joyful Roland up and down in her lap one bench over. They’d all clinked out a boisterous toast, goblets overflowing with the mulled apple cider that Granny had coerced Regina into whipping up last-minute when Leroy’s “special home brew” failed to pan out.

She’d picked at her roast quail, the butternut squash and the stuffed sweet potato, tightly smiling her way through conversation with Snow and Charming whenever they thought to pause in their murmuring sweet nothings to one another. She’d occupied herself by toying with the centerpieces, leafy red and white poinsettias that she painted gradients of pink with a bored little swirl of her fingertip. Her own goblet had sat untouched, irritation prickling her whenever her eyes fell to the sprig of holly someone had tied around its slender glass stem.

By the time Regina looked up again Robin and his party were already halfway relocated toward the ballroom, wielding a variety of instruments that she couldn’t recognize apart from Friar Tuck’s lute and Little John’s set of what looked to be matching mini-tambourines.

A concert of sorts is well underway when Snow and Charming eventually head into the ballroom themselves, Regina trailing begrudgingly in just behind them. The twinkling garland and the ceiling of candlelight have cast everything in a soft, hazy glow, the sharp scent of pine all around them.

A makeshift campfire sits in each corner, their flames childproofed with voluminous bubble-like shields that shimmer and bob upon contact. Small dessert tables have been set up nearby, each one manned by a dwarf in charge of distributing speared sticks of marshmallow for toasting over the fire.

“Regina, this looks amazing,” says Charming while Snow’s mouth drops wordlessly open, and it doesn’t feel quite like work this time when Regina graces them both with a smile.

She’s loitering by the refreshments when Roland comes to cash in on the dance that she owes him. She thumbs off a smearing of chocolate from his cheek as he chews on the last of his marshmallow, explaining to her in detail how perfectly roasty and brown it had gotten on the outside.

Little John, she’s noticed, has ambled up to the table while keeping an eye on the boy, and when she nods that she’s got him he salutes to her with one of his jangling tambourines, shuffling off to rejoin his band.

Once she’s gotten Roland suitably cleaned up, she lets him pull her by the hand to the middle of the floor, curtsying gamely when he nearly doubles himself over in a very grand bow. They’re surrounded by a blur of couples, dancing out the intricate steps to folk songs that Regina finds just as foreign as the rustic contraptions strumming them out.

Immune to the rush of movement around them, Roland tugs her gleefully about in spirited little spins, looking thrilled when she does a showy sort of half-crouched twirl beneath his arms. She’d forgone her usual leather and velvet specifically for this purpose, dressing instead in something soft and breathable that tumbles down in an ankle-length flourish.

“That’s a handsome dance partner you got there,” Ruby’s voice rings out, and there’s a sparkling swish of crimson as she whirls past them on Will Scarlet’s arm.

Regina is turning around on instinct, only half-aware of what’s she doing until she’s skimmed over the crowds and not found him. Belle is fairly easy to spot, currently being spun by another one of the Merry Men nearby, but their leader is conspicuously nowhere in sight, and that pit of dread flares up full-force as it occurs to Regina that she knows exactly what he must be doing out there.

She’s passed a blissfully wiped-out Roland back into Little John’s care, tended to the fire bubbles, and endured several awkward civilities with Snow’s dwarves in the process by the time Robin finally reappears.

He’s been in the woods again, just as she’d suspected, untying his cloak and draping it over one of the hooks by the door as Ruby and Belle shimmy over to greet him. He smiles at them, but it doesn’t touch his eyes in quite the same way as it normally does, something disheartened in it as he turns up empty palms at them.

There’s a collective swell of sympathy around him, Ruby touching his arm as Belle rubs a hand over his shoulder, and then Ruby is raising her goblet with a coyly arched eyebrow, standing on tiptoe and laughingly pressing a kiss to Robin’s cheek.

They’ll be making their way onto the dance floor soon enough, Regina thinks, shifting grimly back toward the refreshments with half a mind to rip the stupid holly from every last goblet and burn them all into crisps.

She’s endeavoring to curb her more violent impulses when she hears him, the sound of his voice alarmingly close all of a sudden, and she turns to see him approach with a full, easy smile for her.

“It appears that I’ve missed the big dance.”

She glances away. “Oh? I hadn’t noticed.”

He helps himself to a drink, and she stiffens when his arm brushes past hers for a moment. He leans his back against the table, resting his hand but a hair’s breadth from hers as he surveys the crowd and she continues to glare at the goblets in front of her.

When he speaks again the words come from low in his throat, pleasantly rough around the edges as he inclines his head toward her. “You look unspeakably lovely tonight, by the way.”

She touches a hand to her hair without thinking, feeling a traitorous warmth open up in her chest. She’d left it all down in waves for Roland, knowing how he likes to play with the ends whenever he can get close enough to reach, and she’s absurdly grateful for the way it curtains around her now, obscuring the flush in her cheeks from view.

“Well,” she recovers quickly, making a vaguely disdainful gesture at him, “you look…barely recognizable.”

Robin chuckles at that. “The Prince was kind enough to lend me some of his things.”

“‘Kind’ is one word for it.”

“You don’t approve?” He sounds amused.

“I see no need for costumes,” she tells him curtly. “All Hallows’ Day has already passed.”

It doesn’t quite land like the insult she’d intended it to be, Robin only “Ah”ing with that unshakeable smile of his, and she’s at a loss for what else to say. She tears her gaze away again, trying not to observe too closely how Charming’s navy-colored doublet folds flatteringly around Robin’s form, or how it brings out all that blue in his eyes when he looks at her the way he is now.

He twists toward the table, leaning into her ever so slightly to set his glass down, and she catches faint traces of Charming’s scented oils on his clothes, bergamot and some rich kind of spice that threatens to overpower her senses. When he straightens back around, however, he smells briefly like Robin again, and she simply breathes in all that fresh air and pine for a moment, almost forgetting herself as he bumps their shoulders together.

But then he’s gazing back out at the dance floor, and she doesn’t have to turn to know that the other girls can’t be far off, perhaps wondering themselves why he’s chosen to linger as long as he has with her when they’ve clearly been waiting for him.

Her fingers inch toward a goblet, letting the spike-tipped holly dig into the pad of her thumb.

The movement catches his eye, and there’s a playful lilt to his tone as he confesses to her, “I thought I may as well make some use of them, considering how spectacularly they failed me in other regards.”

The words are exploding from her before she can smooth out the anger in them. “You do realize that mistletoe doesn’t actually grow here, don’t you?”

There’s a pause as he absorbs the heat of her outburst, his voice perfectly even when he replies, “I hadn’t been aware of that, no.”

“Well now you are.” She rips the holly clean off its stem, crushing it into a fist. “So you can stop with your sad little attempts at wooing everything female in sight – it’s become rather tiring to watch, quite frankly.”

Robin is no longer smiling when she’s managed to summon another scathing look in his direction. He sounds oddly pained as he asks her, “Is that what you think this was about?”

“On the contrary,” she all but snarls at him, “I don’t make a habit of wasting my time thinking things about you and your…urges,” that last word spit out like it’s something unsavory to her, and Robin stares at her as though she’s grown two extra heads, his mouth opening in a sort of speechless disbelief before clenching shut.

“I’d presumed no such thing,” he says at last, his tone cooler than she’s ever heard it before, and it numbs something inside of her, everything turning to stone. “But thank you, for the clarification. You’ve made your thoughts more than apparent on the matter.”

Regina squares her shoulders at him, willing her tongue to unstick and scorn him some more, but she can’t seem to call up any of her earlier rage, not when he’s looking at her as though she’s someone he can hardly recognize either.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty.” Robin bows at her, all the unreserved warmth of his features drained into blankness as he rises and captures her gaze with his own. “I won’t take up any more of your time.”

She whirls back to the table, gripping blindly for those torn bits of holly and wishing, with a desperation she’s not sure she’s ready to understand, that she could un-see that empty look on his face as he turned and walked away from her.

…

She hasn’t made it far from the ballroom when she hears the soft padding of footfalls behind her, and something sprouts wings in her chest as she spins around to face him, an apology already half-formed on her lips.

“Hey,” says Snow, and Regina swallows it back, features hardening to hide the disappointment that must have been showing.

“Yes?” she asks, tone clipped.

“You’re leaving?”

“Your powers of observation really are nothing short of astounding.”

“Because in that case,” Snow carries on without even batting an eye, “I have something I wanted to give you, for tomorrow.” She shrugs when Regina blinks incredulously at her. “There was no Christmas tree to put it under, so…”

“Can you please be done bringing that up?” Regina’s biting tiredly out as Snow takes a step forward, pressing a cushiony bundle of fabric into her arms. “What is so important that it couldn’t wait until—”

Never, is what she’d been about to say, but the words drift into a bewildered silence as Regina untucks a corner, slowly folding it back.

A large, blanket-like square comes tumbling out of her hands, stretching nearly to the floor as she lifts it up by the edges. It’s patterned with wide stripes, red alternating with grey, the wool thick and terribly soft as Regina touches one side to her cheek, her mouth, the tip of her nose.

It smells like coming home.

“I thought it might be a good addition to storytime with Roland,” Snow is saying, her voice barely audible over the swelling ache in Regina’s chest, rising up to her ears and blurring out the corners of her vision. “Speaking of which…”

Regina is busily gathering the blanket back into her arms, trying to blink away that burning sensation in her eyes. “What?”

“I also wanted to ask if you were okay,” Snow tells her, in that tone of heavy gentleness Regina so usually loathes to hear out of her, though she finds she doesn’t have the heart to feel bothered by that at the moment.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I saw you and Robin talking, back there.”

Regina sees that once-molten blue, taking all the warmth with him as he turned his back to her, and she shifts the blanket a little closer, tightening her grip. “What about it?”

“I don’t think Roland was the only one pining for a dance with you.”

Regina shakes her head. “You must be confused.”

“I think we both know that’s not true,” Snow admonishes lightly, “and we both know a certain someone who would agree with me, if he were here.”

After a long, miserable pause that Regina makes a point not to fill, Snow sighs and concedes for the time being. “Anyway. Merry Christmas, Regina.” She squeezes her arm before turning to go.

Regina fingers the yarn work, tracing its loops and thinking of another life, another Christmas, where her heart is whole and it wouldn’t be wrong to hope for these things that Snow seems to believe should come so easily to her.

“I didn’t get you anything,” she hears herself saying.

Snow looks back at Regina, with a slow-spreading smile that makes her face glow. “Just think about what I said,” she offers, eyes too kind and too knowing at once. “That can be your gift to me.”

Regina continues to stand there long after she’s slipped out of sight down the hallway. She gently touches the blanket to her face again, her world a sea of red and grey for a moment before she folds it carefully back up in her arms.

…

It occurs to her that she has no earthly clue where Robin has even been staying these past many months in her castle. He and his men have laid claim to the lower quarters, she knows, those rooms that her servants had once occupied what feels like another lifetime ago. Beyond that, however, she’s sure she wouldn’t be able to tell any of the rooms apart, and it seems highly unlikely his men would’ve thought to label their doorways.

Robin had explained it to her once, when she questioned their choices, how they preferred the simplicity of these quarters – the welcome bareness of all this space without any of those additional luxuries he’s certain none of them would know quite what to do with anyway.

“Besides,” he’d leaned in with a smirk, “that way you needn’t worry about any of us helping ourselves to your things.”

(She’d never worried, but it seemed unwise to correct him when he was already so determined to show his amusement with her.)

Regina had insisted that he at least consider one of the upstairs chambers, with a terrace garden Roland could play in during the summertime, and a separate bath to afford them some privacy, which Robin had politely declined (“We are greatly indebted to you, Your Majesty; this is already more than we ever could have asked for”).

She’d renewed her offer of the upper floors when winter began to settle around the castle, pointing out their superior heating, but still he continued to refuse her – “It’s not so terrible down there,” he’d said, tone winking, “if you wanted to stop by and see for yourself some time” – and so here she stands now, helplessly glaring as a corridor of identically unmarked doorways looms into darkness ahead of her.

She’d waited for the sounds of the ball to dwindle before venturing back out of her own rooms – not for fear of being discovered by someone else on the way, not quite that, but of some truly distressing notion that she wouldn’t find him alone.

Still, the prospect of making door-to-door inquiries after Robin, particularly at this late an hour, is less than appealing to her. Not to mention the fact that all the things she needs him to hear have, inconveniently, eluded her as to how exactly she plans on saying them.

Regina takes a step forward, grimacing to hear how it echoes off the damply chilled walls. She loiters at each door, scrutinizing them as though some sign will appear if she stares hard enough.

She’s strongly considering the use of a quick locator spell when she nearly walks right into it – a little white spruce that comes barely up to her knee, tucked back against the wall beside an otherwise unremarkable doorway.

It’s a spindly thing with short, stunted limbs, sparsely covered in yellow-tipped needles – rescued, she thinks, from a winter it would not have likely survived – but there’s a charm to it too that Regina couldn’t deny if she tried. A knot of small gifts lies crammed underneath it, brown paper packages with To Roland From— scrawled onto their sides. A menagerie of small wooden animals has taken up residence between the branches, whittled out lions and foxes prowling about while barn owls and doves soar around them.

And there, at the top of the tree where a star should have been, someone has thought to place a single shoot of holly.

She knocks on the door before she can talk herself out of it.

There’s a pause, her heart thundering madly, and then she hears a shuffling sound from within. The door cracks open, spilling out a dim candlelit glow into the gloom of the hallway.

“Regina?”

Robin is suddenly standing before her, his everything silhouetted in light, and she has to blink several times before her eyes can fully adjust to him there. He looks mildly astonished but not, she thinks, displeased to see her, shoulders loosening as he lets the door swing back a bit further.

He’s changed out of his ballroom attire into a simple cotton tunic, its neckline opening into a deep vee down his chest, shirt cuffs rucked carelessly up his forearms. He doesn’t smell all wrong anymore, though she can still see Charming’s clothes hanging from a rack just inside, and she’s sorely tempted to dispose of them in a way that may or may not involve fire.

There’s a hint of movement deeper into the room, and she spots a Roland-sized lump in the shadows, slumbering soundly away on one of the bed pallets.

“I’m sorry,” says Regina, feeling appropriately dismayed, “Roland’s asleep, and I – I shouldn’t have come.”

“No, it’s quite all right,” Robin cuts in immediately, and he slips through the doorway, gently latching it closed behind him. His forehead wrinkles with concern while he looks her over, as though he can’t fathom why she would turn up like this short of some life-threatening event, and, well, she supposes she can’t fault him for that. “Is something the matter?”

She shakes her head, unsure how to answer that question.

Robin frowns. “You’re trembling,” he states, and his hands flex ever so slightly down by his sides, a strained sort of movement before going still again, as though he’d been about to reach for her.

“It is a little chilly in here,” she tells him, feeling a peculiar leap in her chest when Robin’s eyes crinkle at her.

“Now where have I heard that one before?” he teases her lightly, crossing his arms and leaning his weight into the door.

She rolls her eyes, glancing away before she can smile back at him. “I wasn’t wrong.”

“I think that’s debatable,” he counters easily, dimples deepening when she huffs out a small exasperated noise.

“Well,” she says in a quiet, stilted voice, “I suppose not all of us can be warm-blooded like you.”

Robin seems perturbed by her admission, brows drawing together as that smile of his flickers out. “That’s not how I see things, Regina.” He waits for her to look at him again, voice low and firm as he tells her, “Not from where I’m standing.”

Regina can only stare at him, overwhelmed for a moment, at a loss for how she can even respond. She’d come to apologize, but here he is with all of his kindness instead, his warmth and his nature to be uncommonly gentle with her, as though she deserves nothing less.

She stands rooted there, gazing up at him with something like shyness and something like shame, and then she gives the tiniest shake of her head again when words continue to fail her.

Robin seems to read her struggle without comment, clearing his throat to casually relieve all the silence. “So,” he says, something mischievous in his tone as he uncrosses his arms to gesture toward her. “Are you going to tell me what you have planned for that holly you’ve stolen off of my tree?”

He’s biting back another smile – he seems to have some never-ending supply of those, with her – as she blinks down at the holly in her hands. “Yes, actually.” The words have to scrape their way out, and she swallows before going on. “I wanted you to have this.”

She holds out her hand to him, and the fine-pointed leaves begin to round out their edges, their glossiness fading into a fuzzy-soft texture. The holly berries lose their bright red hue, a pale yellow-green coloring their surfaces instead.

“Mistletoe,” Regina explains to him needlessly, everything inside of her giving a lurch that’s not altogether unpleasant when Robin stares back at her, wondering.

She presses her hand into the space between them, indicating for him to take it, but still he doesn’t move, only gazing down at the plant again before fixing her with those blue, depthless eyes.

Her throat is dry as she tells him, “Now you can go and kiss whomever you like.”

Robin tilts his head interestedly at her. “Anyone?”

She’s finding it increasingly difficult to read him.

“Yes,” she says, feeling rigid all over, “I believe that’s the idea.”

The air has thinned, and she can’t seem to quite catch her breath as he takes a step closer to her. He guides his palm beneath her hand, gently cradling there, bringing his thumb around to touch one of the mistletoe leaves.

“You know,” he says then, his tone unbearably light, “I’m not actually sure how this is supposed to work.”

Regina glances up at him, too flustered to pass it off as something else, but then the look in his eyes is making it hard for her to feel anything but warm, so warm, and so terribly endless.

His voice is slightly hoarse as he tells her, “You may have to show me.”

She’s swaying forward without any memory of losing her balance, her head more than dizzy when he places a hand at the small of her back to steady her.

“It’s not meant to be difficult,” she hears herself say, half-scowling, half-breathless already, her hands now caught rather uselessly against his chest to keep from leaning any further into him. “You stand under it and—”

“Like this?” he husks, and he shifts over her until the bridge of his nose is just grazing her eyebrow.

“Not…no, not exactly,” she says, barely above a whisper, and her eyes flutter closed.

She’s not sure who moves first, but his mouth is on hers the next moment, a tender press of heat that seems to last only seconds, pulling away from her much too soon. He drops his forehead to hers, and she feels his shoulders rise and fall with a ragged exhale before he’s gathering her back to him, as though unable to keep from kissing her again.

He captures their lips more firmly together, holding her steady as he kisses and kisses her, deep feverish things that feel like a promise to carry her away. The ache of their burn shudders through her, and she opens her mouth to his with a sigh, losing her breath and perhaps another small shard of her heart to him each time he draws back and looks at her like he may never let go.

He drags his fingers through her hair, cupping the side of her neck in his palm and angling her closer. His mouth slants over hers, moving with a scorching intensity as their tongues slide together and tangle. His thumb sweeps with an exquisite tenderness over her jawline, her cheek, and the way that he’s holding her, the intimacy of him wanting to know her like this, is almost more than she can bear.

They’re both more than winded by the time they part again, lips hovering back together as the sharpness in their breathing starts to even out into something not quite so dizzyingly shallow. Robin nuzzles his nose into her cheek with a quiet little groan, his stubble scratching over her skin as he ghosts another kiss to the shell of her ear.

Her hands tighten their grip on his tunic collar, where the sprig of mistletoe has been all but crushed into one of them, drooping and half-forgotten.

“I think we’d better try that once more, don’t you?” Robin murmurs, his voice a bit raw, and she shivers into him. “To make sure it’s still working properly.”

“I think it worked just fine,” she says, not without her own touch of eye-rolling playfulness. He grins a bit naughtily at her, and the swooping sensation that tugs at her belly in answer makes her feel impossibly young.

“Do you, now?” he wants to know, with a boyish sort of smugness that somehow makes him all the more desirable to her.

Her heels rise off the floor as he pulls her back into him, hands spreading heat up and down her spine until she can’t help but shiver again. The lower half of his body is pressed invitingly against hers, but still she braces her arms to his chest, not willing – not ready – to let herself have all of him, all of this, in the way that she so dangerously wants.

She’s wandered too boldly to the edge of some precipice, daring to know what happiness feels like, but she can’t bring herself to think on how she will pay for this later. Not yet.

Not now.

Robin’s smiling down at her with a sky full of blue in his eyes, looking very much like he wants to kiss her some more – and oh how she would let him – but as she brushes her mouth against his, there’s a distant scuffling behind the door, followed by a sluggish yet plaintive “Papa?” that makes them freeze together, chagrined.

Neither of them seem willing to move away first, but then Roland is calling out sleepily again, and Robin concedes with a sag of his shoulders, stealing one last kiss before releasing her from him.

He rests against the doorjamb, taking a minute simply to soak up the sight of her, and Regina looks away when she can no longer contain her smile from him, feeling warm in more ways than one as Robin gives the door a reluctant nudge open.

“Good night, Regina.”

“Thief,” she returns, and his teeth dig enticingly into his lower lip before he’s slipping back inside, carefully shutting the door behind him.

She’s turning to go when the tree gives her pause. It looks a little more melancholy now without that wink of holly up top, and she tilts her head, considering what else it might be missing.

She breaks off a needle of spruce when she’s finished, lifting it gingerly up to her nose and letting the scent of the forest accompany her all the way back to her rooms.

…

Breakfast in the dining hall the following morning is – as to be expected – an elaborate retelling of the prior evening’s events, how Little John misplaced a tambourine bell, and how Leroy had the misfortune of finding it, after nearly cracking a tooth on a marshmallow.

How one very elated Roland had woken to find a “real life star” on top of his tree, not to mention the gift a “Mr. St. Nick” must have left him on his chimney travels, as it was the only one that hadn’t been labeled, and how he couldn’t wait to show his new book of stories to Regina.

And then Robin, looking entirely too handsome for his own good, gazing warmly at her over a cup of freshly brewed coffee, a world of unspoken things in his eyes meant only for her to know.

She must be gazing just as distractedly back, because Ruby is suddenly sauntering by with a brassy-loud “Well, it’s about damn time” and a look of sly comprehension at Belle.

Regina senses Snow straighten at that, but before she can get any ideas about prying for more – already raising a hand with a soft “Shush!” at an oblivious Charming beside her – Regina raises her own mug and takes a studious sip, feigning ignorance while Snow beams aggressively in her direction.

She keeps her eyes trained on her plate after that, though her mind wanders and wanders to join him again through the rest of the meal. She excuses herself from the table when she can no longer stand to hold back any longer, feeling Robin’s gaze swing around to follow her careful departure out of the hall.

She’s chosen to linger by a stairwell when he comes in search of her, pretending to fuss with a bit of garland that’s come undone from the banister.

“Your Majesty.”

Regina smiles without turning, idly plucking up a loose pine cone and melting its wax with a fingertip before pressing it back into place. “Robin.”

She doesn’t hear him approach, but the new warmth that surrounds her is unmistakably his, and it would be such a waste, really, not to bask in it for a short while.

“Can I help you?” she inquires, all lofty innocence as she turns to address him.

His attention has caught near the side of her head, brow furrowing slightly as he murmurs to her, “You’ve got a bit of something right…” He lifts his hand with a May I? expression before reaching just past the line of her vision, fingertips grazing her hair. “There,” he breathes after a moment, and a familiar spray of round, green-berried leaves blooms into view as he pulls his hand away.

Regina blinks accusingly at him, feeling quite nettled at how thoroughly she’d let herself walk into this. “You—you stole that from me!”

“Begging your pardon,” says Robin, in the tone of one deeply wounded, “but how could I have stolen something that was intended for me as a gift?”

Her lips thin disapprovingly at him, but she’s charmed in spite of herself, that treacherous thing in her chest taking flight as he snakes an arm around her waist and tugs her against him, looking triumphant.

Still she refuses to fully soften for him until he’s pointedly directing her gaze to that plant, and then she can no longer not kiss him, it seems, when he’s smiling like this, just for her.

She’ll blame it on the mistletoe later, she thinks, relaxing into him with a content little sound as he touches his lips back to hers.

Later. Yes. Perhaps then.

#outlaw queen #oq ff #oq fic #oq advent #missing year #my scribbles

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outlawqueenbey · 7 years ago

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Paper

OQ Christmas Advent 2017

She's read it over a hundred times, knows every single word, can even see his dimpled grin biting down on a inked quill as he marked the soft curled paper with the secrets in his heart. It's been the one thing she goes to know when the world is cratering in around her, a dark and lonely hug that embraces her tighter each day.

A silly little rhyming poem he'd written she doesn't know when, but her fingertips have roamed every stroke of ink every day since she found it, and somehow it makes her feel like he's with her again.

My Dearest Regina,

There are a few things I want you to know

It's the way you've made my heart glow.

For a long time I was nothing but a lonely thief

Searching for something through my grief.

We've both lost a love far too young

A wound so deep it bled and stung.

But then one day amongst my despair

You were suddenly there, a silent answered prayer.

To be honest, we both know it wasn't love at first sight

At times it felt like all we did was fight.

You saved my son, without a second thought

And my heart began to unravel from its concrete hardened knot

Steady as the days did pass

Stories of the Evil Queen, I felt my doubt begin to shatter like glass

This once terrifying woman I began to understand

Was sad and soft, even with every reprimand.

I saw the pain that lingered beneath the mask

Soothing your torn soul, it became my only task.

Slowly and with much tedious persistence

The walls around you began to fall with little resistance.

A memory curse stole our first kiss

And the moment I saw you again, I knew something was amiss

Bold and Audacious, the only words I could find

That smile you bit back still resonates in my mind

I thought of kissing you amongst the whiskey and rye

But you ran and I was left wondering why

I didn't understand what I had done to scare you so

Of our destined life I'd yet to know

You trusted your heart to a common thief like me

The bright light beneath the darkness I could see

But I let you down, and thought I lost you in the process

But you walked into my camp and kissed me nonetheless

The feeling of your lips on mine, I'm not sure I can explain

Though as my soulmate, I hope you know it all the same

Hand in hand, I vowed I'd return it to it's rightful place

And you wrapped your arms around me in the most perfect embrace

Since that night in your office by the fire

My heart knew of loving you, I'd never tire

Strong, resilient, stunning, a mother fierce and true

My admiration for you only grew

I almost said it, whispered it into your ear

Something I'd been dying to have you hear

But life isn't always easy nor kind

And I was left with a choice which rendered me blind

I know I made mistakes and treated you unfair

Until the moment I realized being without you I could no longer bear

I begged and promised that I would be a better man

To never again make you feel like you were less than

I pleaded for you to see that you'd always been my first choice

How desperately I needed you, I simply had to voice

To the gods above I will forever be in their debt

For you forgave and saw that where my heart lay was truly set

I said I chose you, that day by the lake

And I meant every word, your heart I'd never again break

But circumstance gave me an impossible decision

At the townline, my soul was ripped from my chest with brutal precision

I did the one thing I promised I'd never do

I will never be able to apologize enough for what I put you through

And yet after everything you came back to be my savior

Forgave me, even as I felt like a failure

You kissed me and promised it would be alright

We just had to hold onto each other tight

Through portals and realms we've gone together

Even when hope seemed lost, I knew any storm we could weather

I was so proud seeing you on those Camelot stairs

A vision so stunning, no one else even compares

I remember thinking as we danced and spun about

I was in love with you and there was not a shred of doubt

I'm sorry I scared you stepping in front of that knife

But sacrificing my life for yours, I'd never think twice

I swear to you now, as I sit here writing

That to protect you, I will never stop fighting

I imagine our future, together old and grey

My love for you, stronger each day

Perhaps we will have more children, a house amongst the trees

It matters not to me, but wherever you go, take me please

I promise when the time comes for this life to end

This love between us, for all eternity it will transcend.

And at the end, I'll think back to our start

Forever grateful you let a thief steal your heart

I love you Regina Mills, my one and only soulmate

To be the one to call you mine, it's a wonderful fate.

Yours forever and always,

Robin.

He'd left it tucked away in a box in her closet. A secret gift she hadn't found until after. And for as heart melting the words were on paper, all she did was cry til there were no tears left to spill. A year she's been without him. It seems to span a decade thought it's only been three hundred and twelve days.

It seems to sting a little more with the tide of holiday around the corner. Seeing those around her arm in arm, blushing under mistletoe, oblivious to their surroundings. It brings out love in people, Christmas. Makes it completely okay to be over the top affectionate and cheery to everyone and anyone. But when you have no one to share those moments with, well, it becomes much harder to find the joy in sparkling lights and late night mugs of spiked eggnog.

Being alone with only her thoughts and his poem, a sudden compulsion to give him something back, to tell him everything she hadn't gotten the chance too became overwhelming. So she turned over the parchment with his words, and wrote him back, knowing he'd never get the opportunity to read it, but all the same, she had to do it.

Dear Robin,

I loved the sound of your voice

Soothing the demons inside me without a choice.

I loved how you saw the light within

The way you'd let my hair down with a grin.

I loved that you never backed down

With every sharp remark thrown your way when I wore that unwanted crown.

I loved that even when I was scared

You were the only one who dared.

I loved feeling your hands caress

The way you looked at me in that dress.

I loved how our hands entwined

That spark I never thought I'd find.

I loved how your heart was so pure

How you promised that anything we would endure.

I loved laying beside you at night

At the end of the day when everything finally felt right.

I loved to hear your every sigh

My most favorite, that twinkle in your eye.

I loved how your faith in me never did waver

And in the end, you were my heart's saviour.

I loved the nights in my office by the fire

The need to kiss you again and again, completely dire.

I loved the feeling of your lips on mine

I felt it that night, our souls align.

I loved to bask myself in everything that is you

And feel your heart, beating so true.

I loved the mornings when your arms wrapped around me tighter

Somehow you made me feel so much lighter.

I loved that day you said you chose me

A happily ever after, I could finally see.

I loved watching you be a father to our boys

All the laughter, a beautiful sweet noise.

I loved the ways you'd manage to sneak in a kiss

That feeling, it was my heart's true bliss.

I loved the silly things you'd say just to see me smile

Calming my nerves when I was feeling hostile.

I loved the way you always had hope

Even in the worst time you taught me how to cope.

But now you're gone

Not beside me with the rising dawn.

I miss you more than you'll ever know

To those around me, this pain inside I dare not show.

Everyday I'll put on a brave face

But this hole inside me, it's taking up too much space.

I don't want to give in

I am trying to not let this loneliness win.

But how do I live a life without you

Wishing you were beside me with everything I do.

I pray to the heavens above

That one day we'll be together again my love.

We never said it, but I hope you knew

I have always loved you.

Yours forever and always,

Regina.

She lays the rolled piece of scripture down beside his headstone, presses a lonely kiss to the frozen granite, whispers that she loves him once more and walks away, wiping a single tear fallen onto her cheek.

She misses him.

And silently in the middle of the night for the past year, she's asked for him to come back to her. Promising that if just this one time a miracle could happen, she'd never ask for anything ever again.

But Santa Claus and Christmas miracles are for children who are still too naive and filled with wonder. It's not for the broken hearted, ravaged souls that walk the earth knowing damn well that life isn't filled with answered prayers, but silence in the darkest of times.

She expects nothing to come of her tearful pleading, she knows better than too believe in that sort of magic.

The papers rustle in the chilled wind, snow flakes falling, dampening it's parchment edges till the ink begins to bleed from one word to the next.

What she failed to realize when writing the words on the same piece of paper as her soulmate did, was the small detail he'd left out about how he came to acquire it. Not that it looks like anything but parchment, not to the unknowing eye at least. Even Robin himself did not know the speck of magic the simple piece of paper held, nor the ink he was given as a gift alongside it.

He'd smiled, thanked the man and walked out of his shop without a second thought and headed straight to their log hidden within the forest, where he spent the next hour sitting in the sun thinking about everything he wanted to tell her.

If he'd only known what magic words could truly possess or the power of true love and a touch of help from a completely unprecedented person. The Dark One knew what it was like to lose love, over and over again until it ate away at a person's sanity. And for all the fear and terror Rumplestiltskin once reigned with, somewhere deep in his heart, beneath all the evil was a softness he'd never admit too.

He took Regina down into the darkness with him, spun his web around her purity and scorned her heart till it turned as black as his. He doesn't regret it. Not really anyway. He'd never tell Regina either, but a part of him will always want to protect her. And not from demons and monsters, but from the pain of loss.

It's why he is here, watching her walk away from the cemetery, shoulders hunched and burgundy scarf billowing in the air. Picking up the piece of parchment, he dusts it off, doesn't read it for he already knows what is inside, but tucks it into his coat pocket.

He is no childhood caricature who brings presents down a chimney, but perhaps this one time, he can bring someone a miracle. And now, he finally has the last ingredient he needs to make it come true.

What can he say, he is rather fond of a good Christmas love story after all.

fin.

@oqcelebration

#regina mills #robin hood #outlaw queen #once upon a time #oq advent #christmas fics #oq fan fic #paper

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glindalovesshoes · 8 years ago

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Liquor Love II

Merry Christmas to all of you lovely people out there! I hope you spend your days with laughter, guy, cookies and hot cocoa. Please don't let the gift shopping and business of this time of the year ruin your mood. Find a quiet moment for yourself every day, preferably with the OQ Advent calendar gifts. This is for day 6 of @onceuponanadvent

This year's page looks simply amazing! The girls have done such great work and we are all blessed to have such talented young women work hard for our fandom and to keep the OQ spirit alive.

I am so happy to tell you that I was allowed to continue last year's OQ Advent Calendar story "Liquor Love". You do not necessarily have to read the first chapter again, as I have given you a quick and accurate summary on what happened down below. For those who want to reread anyways: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12264195/1/Liquor-Love. A huge thank you goes out to the people who have helped me get through this. Miles who put up with my tantrums, Alex the most fabulous beta of all times, Shay and TreNesha! You're all so wonderful! Thank you!

Now I hope all of you enjoy yet another day on the short journey to Christmas.

Happy Holidays everyone, and much love,

Previously on Liquor Love:

After the news of her father's death, Regina decides to throw her mother's Christmas plans in LA over board. Instead, she drives up to Storybrooke, Maine, where she lived for the first six years of her life, before her mother decided to rip her away from her beloved father on the day before Christmas twenty seven years ago. Regina is exhausted from the drive and being back in Storybrooke after all this time is a more emotional affair than she first thought it would be. So, she decides to drown her sorrow in a bottle of whiskey. A store called "Merry Spirits" run by a certain Robin Locksley, is her destination. Her original plan consists of buying a bottle and be out, however Robin invites her to a whiskey tasting and during their talk, it turns out Robin knew her father very well. Things get emotional and awkward when Robin takes her for a walk in the snow to her father's grave on the cemetery. Because of Regina's clumsiness when it comes to climbing the cemetery wall, they topple over and kiss. When she is about to go home to her father's house, Regina decides she does not want to be alone on Christmas Eve, so Robin invites her to stay over on the couch at his place.

Liquor Love II

Warmth. Warmth and comfort and the smell of bacon and pancakes. That's the first thing she notices when her mind starts slowly waking up from her deep slumber. There's a hint of a headache in the back of her head, but it's not bad, so she can ignore it for the moment. Something tickles her nose, and then pokes her shoulder, but Regina just sighs before cuddling back into her blanket. Just five more minutes, then she might consider getting up for a glass of water and aspirin for the headache that she knows will come at one point. It's okay though, she's a grown up, she can deal with headaches - if only whatever was poking her would leave her the hell alone. Seriously.

She moves, lets out a groan, which is followed by a giggle. Wait, what? A giggle? Where the hell did that come from? Where the hell was she - what? Pancakes? Bacon? Breakfast? Oh. OH!

Regina cracks one eye open, blinks a bit, blinded by the bright light that is flooding the living room. This is definitely not her father's house, definitely not his couch. Right, right, memories of yesterday slowly come crawling back into her conscious mind. There was whiskey, and Robin, more whiskey, more Robin, snow, kissing… and she'd gone home with him. Oh God. Awkward, how very awkward. Leave it to her to do the walk of shame on Christmas morning. Well, she hasn't slept with him; she has nothing to be ashamed of, right? But she's kissed him… and that is making her a tiny bit uncomfortable. Not the kissing itself but the fact she's enjoyed it and doesn't regret it.

She wanted to be out of his hair, didn't want to spend Christmas morning. Now here she is, on his couch and the man is making breakfast. Is he expecting her to stay?

Another poke, another giggle and Regina finally shoots up, fully awake now. There's a little boy standing in front of her dressed in forest green pajamas decorated with little red and white candy canes, and a stuffed monkey tucked under his arm. His curls are dark brown and wild, his dimpled smile ever charming. The first thought that strikes her is that he doesn't look much like Robin, but these dimples… the dimples are totally his. Now what is his name again? Rudolph? Ronald? No, Roland, his name is Roland.

Roland is still giggling, looking at her with wide, happy eyes.

"Roland, what are you doing?" It's Robin in the doorway, a plastic spatula in his hand, which he's probably used to turn the pancakes and bacon before he heard noises coming from the living room.

"It's Christmas, Papa!"

Robin laughs, saying 'yes, it is' but he knows that he's not allowed to climb out of his bed by himself, knows that he should call Robin once he wakes up so they can get ready for the day. He ruffles his boy's hair, giving Regina a quick wink to acknowledge her, muttering a "Merry Christmas", which she answers with a smile and nod.

"Papa, I wanted to see if Santa brought me my present! Look, he did!" The little boy exclaims happily.

Robin's eyes wander over to the Christmas tree and the presents underneath, which makes Regina laugh, because it's just typical for a child to open all the presents without the parent being present. They're both surprised to find the presents untouched, no wrapping paper lying around. Nothing is missing from under the tree.

Regina eyes the little child that is still standing in front of her, staring at her awestruck with big, happy eyes. She notices a burnt smell coming from the kitchen, but she's afraid to say anything because Robin looks at his son with confusion and worry, crouching down next to him, asking carefully.

"Roland, what present are you talking about?" The little boy giggles once again, his arms clutching the monkey tight to his small body.

"I asked Santa for a new Mama! And look, there she is!" He's laughing, launching himself at Regina now, who can't help but catch the little man who is hugging her as tight as he can. "I'm Roland!"

She doesn't reply, her tongue is heavy as lead.

Robin's eyes are wide with shock, his mouth slightly opened, not knowing what to say at the scene that just unfolded in front of him. They don't know what to say, just stare at each other, letting the awkwardness of the situation rise.

It's Regina who gets her power of speech back first, still holding the babbling and overly enthusiastic child in her arms. "I think your breakfast is burning."

"Oh bloody hell!" He darts off to the kitchen, leaving his son and Regina alone in the living room.

This is not how either one of them has imagined Christmas morning. Not at all.

_____

Continue on ff.net or AO3

#oq advent #day 6 #liquor love #glinda writes #oq advent calendar #oq #outlaw queen #oq fic #oq christmas #thanks for reading #christmas fic #once upon a time #regina mills #robin hood #roland hood #henry mills #Merry Christmas

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ariestess · 8 years ago

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Robin Hood Characters: Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Robin Hood (Once Upon a Time), Roland Hood, Henry Mills (Once Upon a Time) Additional Tags: No standard warnings apply. - Freeform Summary:

What appears to be a catastrophic accident for Regina and Henry ends up bringing the Hood-Mills family even closer together.

#outlaw queen #regina x robin #outlaw queen advent calendar #oq advent #my fic

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gray-autumn-sky · 7 years ago

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Sleepless in Seattle, Chapter 1

Robin is a grieving widow whose son just wants him to be happy again. Regina is recently divorced and trying to figure what is next for her and her son. When she hears Robin’s story on the radio on Christmas, she feels an automatic connection--and as crazy as it seems, she can’t get him out of her head.

I will be posting my 2018 Advent fic in chapters, little by little since it’s massive LOL

April 9, 1992- Seattle, Washington:

Robin stares at Belle for a moment, shaking his head as his jaw trembles. For hours now, he’s been crying--sometimes sobbing, his body heaving as angry tears roll down his cheeks, and sometimes not even aware of it until he feels cold tears collecting on his chin--but somehow having to tell another person makes it so much worse. It makes it real. So, when his lips part to explain what happened that afternoon, nothing comes--instead, he shakes his head as fresh tears well in his eyes and his sister pulls him into a tight hug.

She understands.

She knows the struggle that’s been the last four months.

And she’s an adult; she doesn’t need to be told.

But Roland, his six year-old son whose sleeping down the hall won’t have that same understanding. He won’t simply know what happened, and he’ll need his father to explain it to him--and Robin isn’t quite sure how he’s going to do that because he doesn’t quite understand it himself.

He doesn’t understand how less than a week ago, Marian was fine; and now, she’s gone.

“H-how am I supposed to tell him his mother died?” he asks, pulling back and searching his sister’s eyes. “How do you tell a kid something like that?”

“I don’t know,” Belle answers, her voice soft and barely audible.

“He still believes in Santa and the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy. He--” Robin stops, his eyes pressing closed as he draws in a breath. “He doesn’t know how cruel the world can be. He’s too young.”

“I know he is,” Belle says, pulling him back to her. “But he has you still, you know.”

“I don’t think--”

“You two will get through this together.”

Robin nods as he pulls back. “You’re right,” he tells her, not really believing that. “I, um… I should…”

“Yeah…”

Swallowing hard, he makes another failed attempt to compose himself as Belle leads him to the back bedroom, and he searches for something to say, for a place to even begin…

Marian hadn’t wanted to tell Roland she was sick.

First because she didn’t want to ruin his Christmas--the last Christmas she might have with him--and then because her doctors were encouraged by her response to a new, experimental treatment. By spring, they had every reason to believe she’d make a full recovery, that she’d defy the odds of her diagnosis. They told them that they should be hopeful and optimistic, so again, telling Roland seemed a moot point, and Marian argued there was no reason to worry him unnecessarily.

And who was he to argue?

Then, two weeks ago, Marian woke up in the middle of the night with flu-like symptoms. Robin got up with her and made her some tea as he called into work, then called her doctor. He’d wanted to take her to the emergency room, but Marian argued and the doctor on-call told them to watch it through the night, and if by morning her fever hadn’t dropped, to bring her in.

He’d gotten into bed and held her as she sipped the tea, and before she drifted off to sleep, she told him that she was feeling better. He knew then that she’d said it for his benefit--she never liked to make people worry about her or fuss over her--but something hadn’t sat well with him. So, he called again and again, the doctor advised to bring her in in the morning.

A neighbor had taken Roland to school--and thankfully, this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence--and by then, even Marian conceded that they should probably go into the ER.

She was admitted and given fluids, and he’d fallen asleep at her bedside, holding onto her hand. He’d awoken when a nurse came in, and then, at Marian’s request, he’d stepped out for the examination. He went down to the cafeteria and gotten a cup of coffee before finding a payphone and calling Belle, asking if she could pick up Roland. As she always did, Belle agreed, promising to keep things light and make no mention to Roland about where his parents really were--and then, as he thanked her, he felt a sinking in his stomach.

That feeling never went away.

For two days, he sat at Marian’s bedside, watching idly as she got sicker and sicker, and one thing led to another. Her body was weak from treatment and her immune system was shot; she simply hadn’t been able to fight off the virus. His entire body had gone numb as the doctors told him and that terrible feeling he’d been pushing back since the moment Marian was first diagnosed came rushing forward, leaving him inconsolable.

Telling Roland would be the single most difficult thing, though.

Roland knew something was wrong. He was a smart little boy, and though he loved sleepovers at Aunt Belle’s--and the movies and ice cream and pizza that came with them--they never happened in the middle of the week and they never happened so abruptly.

Drawing in a long, deep breath, he tries to compose himself, watching as Roland fidgets on the bed--and when he tries to smile, he finds that he can’t, even for his son. As their eyes meet, Roland’s jaw starts to tremble and his eyes widen as he notices the tears in his aunt’s and father’s eyes.

“D-daddy?” he asks, his voice cracking as Belle pulled the door closed to give them a little privacy. “W-what’s wrong? Where’s mom?”

“Mom got sick,” he says, somewhat abruptly, not really knowing what else to say as he crouches down in front of his son, still trying to figure out what he’s supposed to say, how he’s supposed to explain this, and how he’s supposed to live with himself after shattering his son’s entire world. “She--”

“Is she in the hospital?” Roland asks, his voice full of alarm. “Did she have to stay there?”

Robin shakes his head and his face crumbles. His heart aches as he looks to Roland. “It, um… happened so fast,” he tells him, thinking of how cruel it seems that after her grim diagnosis, she’d die from something as common as the flu. “Roland, the doctors, they, um… they couldn’t help her. She was too sick and--”

“No--”

“Roland--”

“No,” he says again, this time louder as his voice fills with panic. “They had to help her. That’s what doctors do! They make people better when they’re sick.”

“They tried, but--”

“No.”

“I’m so sorry, Roland,” Robin says, his voice catching in his chest as tears well up in his eyes. “They couldn’t. They tried. They really did, but… they couldn’t make her better.”

“But that’s what they’re supposed to do!”

“I know, Roland, and they tried.”

“But--”

“She’s gone. They did everything they could, but they couldn’t save her.” For a moment, Roland just stares at him as tears stream down his cheeks. Robin strokes his hands over his knees and up his thighs, just like he used to when his son was a baby because it always seemed to calm him. “I’m so sorry, Roland.”

Roland’s face reddens as it scrunches up, and when his lips part to say something, all that comes out is a cry. Robin pulls him into his arms, holding him as tightly as he can, rocking him back and forth as he rubs his back--and, despite his efforts to calm him, nothing seems to work.

“It’s not fair!”

“I know it isn’t.”

“Why her?” he asks, burying his face into the crook of Robin’s neck. “Why mom?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, his throat tightening as struggles to maintain the little composure he has. “I’ve been asking that same question.”

“It’s not fair,” Roland says again, his time quieter as he hugs himself closer to his father. “It’s… just… it’s not…”

“I know, son,” Robin sighs. “I know it’s not.”

He holds Roland a little tighter as he stands up and shifts himself to the bed, sitting back against the pillows as he swings Roland’s legs over his lap. He cups the back of his head and presses a kiss to his hair, and for a while, neither of them says anymore.

Every now and then, he glances to the alarm clock on the bedside table, watching as the minutes pass. It’s odd to him, that time is moving normally because since the moment Marian died--since he stood at the back of her hospital room watching as the heart monitor let out a long, languished beep and as her doctor took her pulse and shook his head--time seemed to stand still.

But he and Roland had been in Belle’s guest room for more than two hours.

Roland’s cries had quieted, and he thought maybe he was asleep. When he was a toddler, he often cried himself out, exhausting himself and falling into a long, hard nap whenever he was really upset. Marian called it the calm after the storm; but now, he couldn’t help but think that was only the beginning of it, and he couldn’t see a way any of this would ever be okay.

_____

April 9, 1992- Greenwich, Connecticut:

Regina stares down at the divorce papers in front of her--her signature in blue ink, and Leopold’s in black--and a little sigh escapes her. She thought she’d feel something when she saw them--something, though she’s not sure what--but instead, she just feels numb.

Her marriage hadn’t been a happy one, not even at the start.

She and Leopold met at a fundraiser that her mother was hosting. He’d been dateless and so had she, and her mother couldn’t help but push them together. She was young and pretty and he was wealthy and established, and according to her mother, Leopold Blanchard was all her mother had ever wanted for her.

At first, she’d scoffed at the idea of dating him. He was twice her age and lacked a personality, but she’d just gotten out of yet another disastrous relationship and she figured Leo would be something different. Two nights after they met, he called to invite her to an art gallery opening; and while she wasn’t interested in any of it, she agreed to go, figuring she could use a change of pace. After all, she wasn’t having much luck find love on her own, and she figured there was little harm in his invitation.

And her mother had been delighted.

When she got home, her mother was waiting and she’d sat on the edge of her bed asking for all sorts of details and beaming as Regina embellished the dull evening.

Then, the next day, Leopold sent her flowers--and her mother gushed about it, making it nearly impossible to decline a second date or a third… or a fourth. After that, she knew that she could never fall in love with Leopold Blanchard and that she was wasting his time as well as hers, but her mother took it as a personal insult, reminding her that she wasn’t getting any younger--after all, she was pushing at thirty, and after that point, finding someone would be much harder.

Of course, Regina was barely twenty-four, but her mother’s words combined with her lack of success dating had an effect on her. So, she agreed to another date, and before she knew it a year had passed.

Everyone constantly told her what a catch Leopold was and how lucky she was to have landed such a desirable bachelor, taking her aside a parties and asking her how she did it--so, naturally, she thought the problem was her and she wondered why she didn’t see what everyone else seemed to.

Leo proposed to her at gala opening in front of her mother and a large handful of other guests whose names adorned buildings in Hartford and Manhattan, and though she knew she was more than certain she wasn’t in love with him and could never be, she’d simply nodded and said yes. Everyone clapped and her mother rushed forward to hug her, and for the first time that she could remember, she told her she was proud of her.

And that had been that.

They’d married that summer and it’d been the event of the season. Everyone who was anyone was there and their wedding picture made the front page of the society section of the newspapers--and she knew she should be happy.

But she wasn’t--and that was a common theme of her marriage.

Henry had been the lone bright spot--an unplanned bright spot that made her stay longer than she should have. She put up with his affairs and dismissiveness, and she came to expect her birthday to go forgotten. Long before they even filed for divorce, they’d gone their separate ways. Still, though, now that it was over she thought she should feel something, yet here she was sitting in a coffee shop, waiting for Mal and feeling nothing.

She sighed and tucked the papers back into the envelope, then tucked the envelope into her purse, and for the millionth time, she wondered if love would always evade her, if she was meant to always be alone. Sure, she had her son, and on most days, he was more than enough. But Henry was nearly ten and if the first ten years were any indication, the next eight would fly by.

And being alone in an empty nest seemed immeasurably bleak.

“Tall decaf cappuccino!”

Looking up, she watches as the barista sets her cup down on the counter, and shifting her purse into the chair beside her, she gets up--and as she reaches for her coffee, so does someone else.

“Oh, no, that--”

“Regina.”

Her eyes widen as memories flood her. “Daniel, I--”

“How are you?”

“I’m--” She stops, suddenly remembering the night they broke up and how terrible she’d felt afterward. “I’m good. I’m… good.”

“Is this…?”

“My coffee?” she supplies. “It is, or I think it is.”

“Seems like we ordered the same thing.”

Slowly, and a bit awkwardly, she reaches for the cup of coffee--and in the back of her head, she hears Mal’s voice telling her that this is a sign--and though she doesn’t personally believe in signs (or fate or destiny or anything of the like), it was quite the coincidence that she’d run into an ex-boyfriend--who she often lamented was the one who got away--on the day her divorce was finalized.

“Do you, um… have plans for that coffee?” Almost immediately she grimaces at her own awkwardness. “I mean—“

“Are you asking if I want to sit down and have a cup of coffee with you?” Her cheeks are still warm and she offers him a sheepish and uncharacteristic little half nod. “Because I’d love that.”

“Oh.”

“Is… is that what you meant? Because—“

“It is!” she says, a bit too quickly. “I just—“

“Let’s sit.”

She nods as Daniel chuckles softly—and all the way back to her table, she chides herself for acting like a fumbling idiot.

“So, how have you been? It’s been—“

“Years.”

“Yes,” she nods, remember the last time they saw each other on the night when she broke up with him. “Too many.”

“It’s, uh, Blanchard now, right? You’re married?”

“Married and divorced,” she tells him, her fingers rubbing the cardboard coffee cup. “So it’s Mills again.”

“Ah—“

“And you?”

“Married? No.”

“Oh, that’s—“

“Incredibly lucky—or well, I can’t help but think so now. I might have had a different answer ten minutes ago.”

She grins—and again, a part of her agrees. It is lucky and maybe it’s even a sign.

They slip into an easy conversation, reminiscing about the past—telling old stories about high school. They talk about things she hasn’t thought about in years. Talking to him is comfortable and she feels a flicker of the person she was before her marriage—and somewhere in the middle of it all, she realizes that she hadn’t been aware that that person was lost.

From the corner of her eye, she sees Mal come into the coffee shop. Very briefly she looks away from Daniel, watching as her friend’s brows arch and when she grins, a look of understanding resonates on Mal’s face, and she moves to the counter to order her own coffee before slipping into a seat on the other side of the shop.

Giving Mal one last glance and she laughs to herself as she wonders what she might be thinking.

Mal has never made any effort to cover up her feelings about Regina’s love life. She didn’t try to hide her dislike of Leopold and she regularly reminded her that her life didn’t go awry until she broke up with Daniel and that her efforts to please her mother always came back to bite her. Given Mal’s own personal—quirky and hippie-like belief system—she would be greatly amused to learn how her friend an adamant denier of fate—came to a place where she was sitting across from a former love she often lamented was the one who got away.

She doesn’t linger on it, instead turning her attention back to Daniel, focusing on a story he’s telling of his first job out of college—a decision that made his family happy, but crushed his heart in ways he never conceived possible.

At that, she laughs—she knows a thing or two about that—and she tells him about her own decisions that led her to a relatively dull and unfulfilling existence.

She finishes her coffee before he does and she can’t help but notice the way he nurses it, almost as if willing it to last.

And she can’t help but find that sweet—and she can’t help but realize that she, too, doesn’t want this impromptu coffee date to end.

“Would you want to have dinner tomorrow night?” Daniel blurts out, his cheeks flushing as her eyes widen with surprise. “I… am having a really good time right now and—“

“I am, too,” she admits. “Dinner sounds… wonderful.”

He looks relieved and that makes her smile—she can’t remember the last time a man wanted to have dinner with her muchless looked like he’d won the lottery when she accepted.

Daniel reaches into the breast pocket of his jacket, fishing out his wallet and pulls out a card. “My personal number is the first one,” he tells her, extending the card. “Just… um… in case you need to get in touch with me or, um… wanted to talk or…”

“I’d like that,” she says, grinning down at the business card. “Do you… like Italian food?”

“I like any kind of food,” he admits, laughing. “There’s a new place—“

“In Hartford.”

“You know it.”

She nods. “A friend from college owns it. I’ve been looking for an excuse to go.”

“You need an excuse?”

“Well, my nine year old isn’t exactly the fine-dining type and he’d be sorely disappointed to learn that pizza is not real Italian food.”

“A disappointment I know well, but I am sure the good company will more than make up for it.”

“I’d hope.”

“So, shall I pick you up around seven?”

She blinks—she thought maybe they’d meet. “Alright,” she hears herself say, not quite sure how she’s going to tell Henry that she’s accepted a date—on a school night and the day after her divorce was finalized. “I think that’ll work. Can I call you tonight to work out the details. I need to find a sitter and double check my son’s schedule. Between Little League and homework and the equestrian lessons I’m forcing on him—“

“Equestrian,” Daniel says, brightening. “Do you still ride?”

“When I can force my son into coming with me.”

“Fantastic.”

“Is it?” She asks, laughing quietly. “I’m sort of afraid the forced bonding experiences are going to backfire on me one day.”

“Perhaps,” he concedes, shrugging absently. “But now I’ve got an idea for a second date.”

“A second date—“

“Yes.”

“Isn’t that a bit premature? What if you find more than twenty minutes with me completely insufferable?”

“I highly doubt that’ll be the case. We always got on well and I am having a fantastic time right now.”

She grins. “I am, too.”

“I only wish that I hadn’t made plans this evening.”

“Ah—“

“I’m meeting with a client to discuss all the brilliant ways I’ve come up with to stretch his dwindling inheritance.”

“Oh. Fun.”

Daniel’s eyes roll. “That’s one word for it.”

“So if I call you around nine—“

“I look forward to that.”

“Me, too,” she admits as he rises up from the table. “I’m glad we ran into each other today.”

“I am, too,” he tells her, tossing a few bills down onto the table to cover his portion of the tip.

They exchange awkward little waves as he leaves and before he’s even out the door, Mal is at the table, sliding into his seat.

“That was—“

“Yes.”

“Oh, my, what an interesting turn of events!”

“You’re telling me.”

“Here I thought I’d be helping you nurse your wounds, but it seems you’ve found someone else to help you nurse them.” She grins a bit coyly. “Someone far more qualified.”

“Well, I don’t know about that, but we do have a date tomorrow… provided I can find a sitter.”

“Are you asking me to babysit my favorite child?”

Regina’s brow arches. “How would your daughter feel about that?”

Mal sighs. “Lily will be coming with me and it’s no secret that she and I aren’t on the best of terms.”

“Oh?”

“Last night, Lily nearly set my drapes on fire hiding her cigarette and then still tried to deny that she was smoking.” Again, Mal sighs as she leans back in the chair and crosses her arms over her chest. “So, yes, spending an evening with your innocent, adorable son sounds absolutely delightful.”

“Well, this is a change of pace.”

“You dating?”

“Well… yes, but… I meant this talking about your problems instead of mine.”

“Oh, no,” Mal says, shaking her head. “We are not talking about my problems. My problem has been grounded until the end of the month and when she’s not at school, she has a new shadow. So… problem solved.” A grin curls onto Mal’s lip as she leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. “So, tell me about this date…”

#advent 2018 #oq ff #outlaw queen

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queen-of-the-merry-men · 8 years ago

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HOME FOR CHRISTMAS: A SUNNY SIDE PREQUEL

A holiday Sunny Side flashback to Regina’s first Christmas home from college, and her reunion with Robin, who chose not to go to college.

Read on FF.net.

----------

DECEMBER 2003

Winter in Storybrooke is always a magical time, just like it is for any small town. Kids run around with their thick fluffy jackets, scarfs flying behind them as they frolic through the cold. Residents string up their Christmas lights and hoist up their decorations so their homes will glow in the night. Snow falls over rooftops and roads, transforming the place into an image from a Hallmark postcard. Yes, winter in Storybrooke is a magical time… if you’re into that sort of thing.

Nineteen year old Robin Locksley was not a fan.

Truth be told, winter would never be his favorite time of the year. He personally found the whole season to be quite confining, forcing him into thick sweaters and indoor activities.

On this winter day he stood behind the counter at Granny’s Diner, dishtowel thrown over his shoulder as he leaned against the counter with his eyes trained directly at the clock on the wall. As he sighed impatiently a new customer walked through the door, letting in a gust of wind and sending a shiver down his spine. He moved closer to the order counter hoping its window to the kitchen would provide him with a little more warmth. Crossing his arms he returned his attention to the clock.

11:40.

Just twenty more minutes and his shift would be over. Then he’d finally be free to stuff himself into his jacket, brave the winter cold and head over to the campsite. And then he’d finally see Regina again.

“Are you watching the clock or trying to make it explode?”

Smirking, Granny approached him at the counter ripping another order from her notepad and passing it back from the kitchen.

“You keep staring at it like that it’s gonna start going backwards just to spite you,” she warned.

Robin rolled his eyes but turned from the clock. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Last thirty minutes are always the hardest.”

While Granny only shook her head at him, his cousin Ruby walked up with a shit-eating grin on her face and giggled. “Don’t give him such a hard time Granny. He’s just excited because Regina’s coming back.”

She mockingly sang the last three words causing Robin to glare at her. Ruby paid him no mind though, she only wiggled her eyebrows at him provocatively before turning to refill a customer’s coffee.

Granny sighed, wistfully. “I gotta tell you, I have missed that girl,” she said. “It’s been a little sad not havin’ her around.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Robin would be the first to admit that things around town had become rather dim without the presence of his best friend. It’d been four months since she’d headed off to college, the longest they’d been apart since they were ten years old. He missed her. All the emails and phone calls in the world couldn’t make up for not having her here.

Granny sent him a pitying look before rolling her eyes. “You can go.”

Robin’s face lit up. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she replied, waving him off. “If you’re just staring at the clock you’re useless anyway.”

A grin broke out on his face as he kissed her on the cheek, excitedly whispering a thank you before running off to get his coat. Ruby watched him go, her jaw dropping in indignance.

“Hey! How come he gets to leave early?!”

“Because he’s my favorite this week,” Granny shot back, giving her a stern look as she pushed Ruby out from behind the counter. “Now get back to work, table six is waiting.”

Ruby threw her head back with a groan but did as she was told. Robin was sure to send a smug wink her way before heading out the door with an excited grin on his face.

xxxx

It was cold as hell outside. Snow had started to fall and Robin’s cheeks had grown bright red as he sat on a picnic table waiting for Regina to arrive. They’d agreed to meet at the old campsite right outside the town, their favorite spot since they were kids.

He rocked back and forth as he waited, trying to muster up a little extra warmth. He thought about Regina and wondered if she’d changed much in her time at school. When she’d left they’d made promises of daily phone calls and weekly emails but that didn’t exactly last. He’d heard from her often at the beginning but somewhere around month two things had begun to taper off. She’d called less and less. If he was lucky he’d get an email from her once every few weeks but they grew shorter as time went on. It was disappointing to say the least but he couldn’t blame her. She was off at college, exploring the city, probably making new exciting friends. She couldn’t spend all her spare time keeping up with him. It was fine. He just hoped she was having a good time. And she had called to make sure that he knew she was coming home for Christmas so it wasn’t as if she didn’t care. She was still his best friend. And that he could be sure of. Mostly.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a black BMW pull up to the campsite and he hopped off the table, an excited grin reappearing on his face. The engine had barely turned off before Regina was stepping out of the driver’s side, bundled up in a stylish trench coat and thick scarf. He saw her bright smile from across the field and started making his way over to her. In seconds he’d scooped her up in a bear hug, one she happily returned. Warmth spread through him as the sound of her laughter hit his ears.

“God I’ve missed you,” he whispered, squeezing her tighter.

“I missed you too,” she replied, patting his back. “But can we please do this in my car, it’s so damn cold out here.”

An easy laugh came from Robin as he nodded his head. “Sure.”

They quickly settled inside the car, Robin breathing a sigh of relief when he felt the warmth of the A/C hit his cheeks. Sitting in the passenger seat he finally allowed himself to take a good look at her. She looked… different.

He tilted his head, eyeing the dark hair that sat under a newsboy cap. “You straightened your hair?”

She nodded, reaching up to touch the ends of her newly straightened locks. “Yeah, found a hairstylist a few months ago. Thought it was time for a change.”

Robin raised his eyebrows in surprise. Wild curls had been her signature look for as long as he could remember. Even in high school when she’d tried to tame them with rollers and flat irons she never managed to keep them under control for long. It was a little jarring to see her without them.

“Looks good right?” she said, with a proud smile.

“Yeah,” Robin forced himself to say. Honestly, he was a little disappointed. He’d missed seeing her curls.

“I see you lost the glasses too,” he said, gesturing toward her eyes.

“Yep,” she replied. “Figured since I’m officially an adult I should just switch to contacts.”

“Yeah, cause only children wear glasses,” he quipped.

“Shut up,” she laughed, rolling her eyes. “What about you? What have you been up to?”

Robin shrugged his shoulders. “Well…”

Regina’s cellphone started to ring and Robin felt a wave of relief. Saved by the bell it seems.

Digging her phone out of her pocket, she sent him an apologetic look. “Sorry, it’s probably mother.”

The look on her face when she stared down at the screen told him she was right in her assumption. He watched, silently, as she gritted her teeth and sighed before answering her flip phone.

“Yes mother... yeah I’m done with the drive… mother, I told you I was stopping at a few places in town first… yes, I do know how long it’s been… I just wanted… okay, fine, I will be home as soon as I can, I promise… yes… see you soon.”

She snapped the phone shut and rolled her eyes. “Practically had to beg her for this phone and now she’s using it as a leash.”

Robin smirked but his eyes turned sympathetic. “Cora wants you home?”

“Yeah,” sighed Regina, dismayed. “Do you mind?”

“No, you know how much I love a trip to the Mills house.”

Regina scoffed.

“Really,” insisted Robin, widening his eyes to feign innocence. “I think your mother has really missed me since you’ve been gone.”

His sarcasm earned him a small chuckle as Regina switched the car in gear. The idea that Cora Mills would ever miss him was preposterous at the least. Robin had charmed more than a few people with his blue eyes and easy smile but Regina’s mother had never been one of them.

Christmas music played on the radio as they drove back into town, making small talk as they went. The whole time Robin watched her as they talked, this time really taking her in. More than her hair had changed. It took him a minute to figure out that she was wearing makeup now, eyeliner on her lids and gloss on her lips. It threw him. She’d never worn it when she lived here. It must be a New York thing.

“So how’s school?” he asked. “Made any fancy New York friends yet?”

“Uh yeah, tons,” she said, nodding her head but not looking him in the eye. “People are different up there. It’s really cool.”

“Met any guys?”

She snorted, smirking. “Oh please, like I have time for that.”

“So learning how to save the world doesn’t leave you time for hookups?” he joked.

“None at all,” Regina mumbled, distantly. She paused for a second, clearing her throat before turning to him. “But what about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. “It’s been four months and you’re not the only one who stayed in town. You hooked up with anyone?”

Robin squirmed uncomfortably. “Actually, yeah. I… sort of got back together with Shawna.”

Immediately her eyes widened in surprise and Robin winced, bracing himself for her reaction. Regina had never been Shawna’s biggest fan and he had no doubt he was in for an earful of her disapproval.

Regina’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. He saw her press her lips together as if to keep from yelling but to his surprise she simply turned to him with a plastered on smile.

“That’s… great,” she forced out. “It’s nice.”

Robin stared at her. “That’s it? No lecture?”

“What do you want me to say?” laughed Regina, shrugging her shoulders. “Honestly I’m surprised she even took you back after the whole prom debacle.”

“She wasn’t that mad.”

“You had her handprint on your face for a week,” she smugly pointed out.

“Okay that’s true,” chuckled Robin, rolling his eyes. “But it’s not like I didn’t earn it. I did ditch her halfway through dinner to spend the night with you.”

“I was in the hospital!”

“Which she now realizes is why I had to go,” he said. Shrugging his shoulders, he sighed. “I know she might be a little dramatic but she gets me.”

“Gets you laid maybe,” she shot back under her breath, causing Robin to burst out in laughter. Still she sighed. “No it’s good that you have someone here. Being alone can be hard.”

A sharp sting went through Robin’s heart but he remained silent. Honestly, he’d expected more of a reaction from her but he supposed her time in New York must’ve mellowed her out. She must have much more important things to do than fret over his love life.

It wasn’t long before they reached the mansion Regina called home. As she pulled into the driveway, a wave of nostalgia fell over Robin. After the age of seven most of his memories were evenly split between Regina’s home and his own. He knew the Mills mansion well, everyone in town did, as the mayor’s home was practically a Storybrooke landmark.

Same as every year, Regina’s parents had gone all out for decorations. Christmas lights were strung up, a wreath was on the door and he just knew if he took one step inside he’d be accosted by the manufactured scent of cinnamon.

They’d barely pulled up to the door before it opened and Regina’s father stepped out. Mayor Henry Mills was a short portly old man with a smile warm enough to thaw ice. He rubbed his hands together in excitement when his daughter stepped out of the car. A matching grin appeared on Regina’s face as she ran over to get her father a hug.

“Daddy!” she said, hugging him tight.

“Princess!” he replied, with a small laugh.

While Regina and her father reunited in the driveway, Robin pulled her bags out of the back. “Good to see you, Henry.”

Henry sent him one of his signature warm smiles. “It’s good to see you too, son. I told you not to be a stranger. It appears you didn’t listen,” he joked, patting him on the shoulder.

Robin sheepishly shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, just been busy with work, you know.”

After graduation Robin had picked up a job with Marco, the local handyman, and a second one at the diner with Granny. Neither was particularly thrilling but they kept him busy which was something.

Regina turned to her father. “Hey daddy, Robin’s invited to the Christmas party this year right?”

Henry nodded. “Of course, we’ve got an extra seat this year since Zelena decided to stay with friends for the holiday.”

Robin narrowed his eyes confused. “Your mother’s Christmas party? You’re actually going to that this year?”

He was surprised to see Regina nod her head. She’d always hated going to that party. There were never any people her age and the adults were always ridiculously stuffy. For as long as he could remember she’d avoided it as best as she could, sneaking off after an hour to escape to her room or head over to his house.

“Well, I have to go this year,” she explains. “Mother’s friends have kids who work at law firms in the city and if I want to get a good internship it’s best that I start networking now. You know, get in some facetime.”

“Right,” said Robin, nodding his head. “That’s smart.”

“Besides it’ll be ten times more fun if you’re there to keep me company,” she adds.

Honestly Robin could think of nothing he’d like less than spending a night trapped with Cora Mills and the Storybrooke elite but if Regina wanted him there…

“I guess I could dig my old tie out the closet,” he said.

“Thank you Robin,” said Regina, beaming at him. “Are you sticking around for a little while or do you need a ride back to your house?”

“No, it’s fine, I can walk back,” he said, nonchalantly. “You’re still coming over tonight, right?”

“Obviously,” she instantly replied. “Granny would kill me if I missed out on her Christmas movies and cookies.”

Robin chuckled. Truer words had never been spoken.

“I’ll see you then,” he said, bidding them both goodbye.

As he walked down the driveway toward the sidewalk, he let out a tense breath. Well, that had been… interesting.

xxxx

Regina had always loved winter in Storybrooke. It might sound sappy but she always felt like the first snow of the season carried a little bit of magic. It made people kinder, and towns prettier. It also brought along all of her favorite yearly traditions. She loved all the cooking, and decorating and gift giving. Especially Granny’s annual night of Christmas cookies and movies.

Eugenia “Granny” Lucas had been Regina’s nanny since she she was six months old and even though she quit when Regina was 12, the two of them still remained very close with one another. Especially since she was also Robin’s grandmother, or something like that.

Every Christmas since she was a kid she’d manage to spend at least one evening at Granny’s house making cookies and watching classic Christmas movies with Robin and his family. It was one of her favorite nights of the year.

However, when she pulled up to the Lucas house, she found herself feeling a little bit anxious. Her earlier reunion with Robin had been a little awkward to say the least.

It was strange. She’d known Robin almost her entire life. He was her best friend, they’d had so many conversations about personal, embarrassing things but when she’d met up with him earlier it was like she’d completely forgotten how to talk with him. It was like putting on a pair of old comfortable shoes and discovering that they no longer fit.

Taking a deep breath, she shook the thoughts from her head. She was probably overreacting. It’d been a long time since they’d last seen each other and they’d barely had time together earlier. Maybe things would click better tonight, when they had more time for each other.

Shuffling the bags in her hand, she knocked on the door feeling the excitement return little by little.

And then it trickled away when the door opened and she was greeted by bleach blonde hair and cheap perfume.

“Oh… hi Shaw-na.”

Robin’s girlfriend greeted her with a tight lipped smile. “Hi Regina. Welcome back.”

It had been nearly six months since the last time she’d seen Shawna Horowitz up close. Regina liked to think that she’d grown in that time. That she’d evolved past the point of gritting her teeth at Shawna’s obvious disdain of her, or rolling her eyes every time she displayed her signature insecurity. She liked to think that she’d finally reached the point where she was able to be the bigger person.

Clearly she was wrong.

The minute she caught sight of Shawna standing in Robin’s doorway, dressed in her Christmas crop top, staring her down as if she was the interloper at this event, she was instantly reminded of just how much she does not like this girl.

Regina shrugged her shoulders, expectantly. “Thanks. Mind moving aside so I can come in?”

Shawna forced out a chuckle but stood aside, calling over her shoulder. “Regina’s here! And she’s got bags!”

Pushing down her annoyance, Regina stepped inside and was pleased to discover that outside of Shawna’s presence, things in the Lucas-Locksley household were as seasonally pleasant as she remembered. Vintage Frank Sinatra Christmas music came from the radio, she could already smell the scent of ginger and cinnamon coming from the kitchen and decorations were out in full force. Tossing her bags onto the couch, she saw the Christmas tree propped up near the window and within seconds she spotted more than a few handmade ones she and the rest of the family had made over the years. She let out a content sigh. Somehow, even more than when she’d returned to her own house, she was wrapped in the feeling that she was finally home.

Rapid fire footsteps from the stairs reached her ears and in a flash she saw Robin’s little sister, racing down with a wide smile to give her a hug.

“Belle!” Regina immediately opening her arms to receive the hug, that Belle gave with a happy laugh.

With curly dark brown hair and the purest smile in the world Belle Locksley was the closest thing Regina would ever have to a little sister. In fact, if Robin was ever interested in a trade, Regina knew she would more than happily give up Zelena for Belle. She was sweet, kind and studious. Nine times out of ten she could be found with her head in a book. Despite the three-year age difference Regina had missed her while she was away.

“God I missed you!” sighed Belle, finally releasing her. Leaning in conspiratorially, she whispered, “Things have been so boring without you here.”

“Good to know,” laughed Regina. She tilted her head toward the couch. “And you’ll be glad to know I brought you a gift.”

“Did you bring me a gift?” Ruby sauntered into the living room, mixing spoon in hand, raising an eyebrow at the bags on the couch. “Or did you forget me?”

Regina rolled her eyes. “Yes, I brought you a gift Ruby. Though I doubt you’ve been nice enough to deserve one.”

“Why be nice when being naughty is so much more fun?” replied Ruby with a wink. She gave Regina a quick hug before plopping onto the couch. “Welcome back, Mills.”

Regina loathed to admit it but she had missed Ruby while she was in New York. Finding someone who could be as bluntly honest with her without crippling her self-esteem was proving difficult.

“By the way, your gift is the one wrapped in red,” she teased.

“What a surprise,” mumbled Ruby. She rolled her eyes but Regina could tell that she was pleased by the smile that tugged on her lips. Shades of red had always been her signature. And it appeared that hadn’t changed while Regina was at school.

It looked like the gang was all here. All except two important characters.

Regina pinched her eyebrows together. “Where’s Robin?”

“He went out for more frosting. We’re running low.” Shawna finally spoke up. She’d been watching Regina’s reunions from the corner of the living room, and stepped up with a smug smile. “He’s gonna text me on his way back.”

She held up a shiny new flip phone. “It’s a Motorola Razr. Birthday gift from my parents. Isn’t it nice?”

“Dazzling,” Regina deadpanned. Shawna was always flashing something new and fancy in the faces of others. It was probably one of her worst qualities.

She turned to Belle. “Where’s Granny?”

“In the kitchen,” she replied, still scrutinizing the outside of her gift. “She’s been waiting for you.”

“And we all know how much she hates waiting,” said Regina, shrugging off her coat with a chuckle. “Guess I shouldn’t test her patience.”

Leaving Ruby and Belle to her gifts, she eagerly headed back toward the kitchen. As soon as she swung the door open she was hit with the heat of the oven and the scent of baking cookies. Standing by the kitchen sink, with her head over dirty dishes was Granny. Regina smiled as she took her in. Her silver hair was thrown up in a knotty bun and an apron was tied around her waist while her glasses slid to the end of her nose. She hadn’t changed a bit.

Regina walked over and wrapped her arms around Granny’s shoulders. The old woman chuckled warmly. “As nice as the hug is, some dishwashing would go a long way as well.”

Regina happily giggled as Granny patted her hand, whispering, “It’s like I always say. Everybody wants to lick the spoon…”

“...but no one wants to wash the bowl,” finished Regina, a smile firmly planted on her face.

Laughing Granny turned around and wrapped her in a warm hug. “Oh I’ve missed you sweet girl!”

“I missed you too Granny,” sighed Regina, breathing in her familiar perfume.

“Oh, let me look at you!” Granny exclaimed, pulling back to see her face. She reached out to pack her cheek. “Oh you look so good and I love this hair!”

“Thanks.” Regina shyly blushed at the compliment, reaching up to touch the ends of her hair. “I can finally get a comb through this.”

Granny chuckled. She had more than a few memories of trying to get a brush through Regina’s curls. It had been a constant struggle.

“Well, tell me about New York? What’s it like up there?” she asked.

Regina hesitated before nodding her head. “I will tell you all about it… if you take a break and let me do the dishes.”

Granny smirked before shaking her head and taking a seat at the kitchen table. “I knew there was a reason I missed you.”

Getting started on the dishes, Regina told her about New York. She described her classes and professors, all her favorite places in the city.

“Are you making friends though? Having experiences and adventures?” asked Granny.

Regina pressed her lips together and nods her head. “Of course, it’s a different party every night.”

“Good,” said Granny, pleased. She sighs resting her chin against her hand. “So maybe you can explain something to me with your big fancy education.”

“Hmm?”

Granny pursed her lips. “Why am I spending Christmas with Shawna and her Motorola?”

Regina snorted, as she dried her hands on a dish towel. “It’s not Christmas yet and it’s just for one night.”

“A night reserved for me and my grandchildren only,” she stubbornly pointed out. Regina smiled. She knew they weren’t blood but it always made her feel warm inside when Granny included her as a granddaughter. It reminded her that her family reached further than blood.

Granny shook her head. “I can’t believe you didn’t talk him out of it.”

Regina’s jaw dropped, offended. “Me?” she scoffed. “I wasn’t even here! Like he listens to me anyway?”

“You’re the only one he listens to,” Granny insisted. “You know he’s missed you like hell since you left.”

Regina huffs, remembering all the two sentence emails and missed weekly phone calls. “Did he?”

Granny tilted her head, sympathetic. “Of course he did. More than you know.”

Despite herself Regina felt a flare of satisfaction at her declaration. A part of her had honestly wondered. Shrugging her shoulders, she sighed. “It’s been a little hard keeping up with him. Feels like we’ve been getting our wires crossed a lot.”

Granny patted her hand. “Oh darling, I know. When you leave home it can be hard staying close to those you left behind.” She smiled wistfully. “But that’s what holidays are for. They pull you back, give you a reason to reconnect.”

Regina raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me to find my Christmas spirit?”

“I’m telling you that you’ve been gone for a while but you’re here now,”Granny said sternly. “You need to make the most of it.”

Resting her chin in her hand, Regina smirked. “I think you’ve gotten wiser since I’ve left.”

Granny chuckled as she rose to her feet. “Maybe you’re just more willing to listen.”

The kitchen timer went off and she pressed a kiss to the top of Regina’s head before opening up the oven and taking out the cookies. As the scent of gingerbread men filled the room, Regina found herself reminiscing about the first time she’d spent a winter night at Granny’s house. She and Robin had been seven years old and they’d ended up spending the whole night together, falling asleep on Granny’s couch long after everyone had went to bed. Looking back, she knew it was the first time she realized that she wanted to be his friend.

“Cookies done?”

She looked up to see Robin standing in the kitchen doorway, a paper bag no doubt filled with frosting under his arm and snowflakes still in his hair. Again she was struck by just how much she’d missed him… and how much she still did even though he was only two feet away.

He smiled when he saw her sitting at the kitchen table. “I see you made it over.”

“Like I would miss this,” she replied, sending him a small smile.

He chuckled, reaching into the bag and tossing her a can of frosting. “Got your favorite.”

“Cream cheese frosting!” Regina excitedly whispered, reading the label. He remembered.

Cream cheese frosting had been Regina’s favorite since she was twelve years old. Every year Granny had always made sure to keep a can for her when they decorated cookies. Looking up at Robin, Regina grinned. It wasn’t as though she’d expected him to forget such a thing but the fact that he remembered touched her heart.

“Did you get my favorite, Robbie?”

Ugh. Regina’s smile dropped when Shawna appeared and immediately latched herself onto Robin’s arm. God, she’d seen sloths that clung less than she did. Robin, however, didn’t notice the dip in Regina’s mood. He smiled at Shawna before reaching into the bag and pulling out a second can of frosting.

“Low fat whipped strawberry. Just like you like,” he replied, earning a happy squeal from her in return.

“Thank you, Robbie!” she said, smacking an audible kiss onto his cheek.

Regina tried her best not to roll her eyes. She’d forgotten how much she’d hated hearing Shawna use that god awful nickname.

Taking a deep breath, Regina swallowed her irritation and tried to focus on why she’d come in the first place. She was here to see Robin and like Granny said, she should make the most of it. Silently she vowed not to let Shawna ruin the evening.

Unfortunately, that vow was harder to keep than expected as Shawna made it more than clear that she refused to be ignored. As everyone settled into the kitchen to get started mixing the frosting, she stuck by Robin’s side, doing everything to ensure that she remained the center of his attention. Regina had already decorated two gingerbread cookies with buttons and smiles before she was even able to get a word in.

“Hey Robin, how’s it going working with Marco?” she asked, moving onto her third cookie.

Robin shrugged his shoulders. “It’s good,” he said. “A lot busier than I expected though. It seems like the town can’t go a week without someone’s pipe or window breaking.”

Regina chuckled. “Well, that’s good. At least you don’t have time to get bored.”

She licked a spot of frosting from the back of her hand. “Think you might want to stick with it? Marco is getting older and someone in this town’s gonna have to take up the handyman mantle when he finally retires.”

“Ha!” barked Robin, shaking his head in disbelief. “Please, that man could have a foot in the grave he’d still pick up a hammer if anyone asked. Besides, I like fixing things but it’s not something I want to do forever.”

“Well, what do you want to do?” Regina asked.

“Right now?” Robin shrugged his shoulders. “Probably get to the gumdrops before Ruby eats them all!”

From her spot at the counter, Ruby glared at him, her mouth full of gumdrops. Still chewing, she shot back, “Hey, I’m not the only one eating them!”

“Yes you are!” Robin insisted. He rose from his seat to wrestle the candy from her clutches, leaving Regina to silently ponder his deflection. After a moment she internally cringed when she realized that he’d left her and Shawna with no buffer.

Shawna seemed just as displeased with the situation as she was, judging by the subtle look on her face.

Though she knew she’d be fine with just sitting in silence, Regina forced herself to make conversation. It was the holidays after all, and she was her best friend’s girlfriend. Might as well put in a little effort.

“So Shawna… what have you been up to since graduation?”

Shawna smiled, shrugging her shoulders. “Not a lot. My dad made me his secretary at the logging company, so I’ve been working there.”

“That’s good,” Regina replied. “Do you like it?”

“It’s okay,” Shawna mumbled. “The office is boring but at least it gives me something to do until Robbie gets off work.”

Regina just hummed in response. “So, what do you do when you’re not working?”

“Oh the usual. Hang out with friends, get my hair and nails done. Just girl stuff,” she replied.

Shawna tilted her head, running her eyes over Regina’s face. “Oh and I gotta say, I am loving this whole transformation!” She gestured towards Regina’s hair and clothes. “Such an improvement over how you used to look. You know, in school all the guys used to say with a little work you could’ve been a bombshell.”

Shawna sent her a pinched smile before biting the head of a gingerbread man. Regina felt her cheeks go red. With embarrassment or anger she didn’t know. Honestly, she shouldn’t be surprised. Backhanded compliments had always been Shawna’s bread and butter. Especially when Robin wasn’t around to hear.

Regina just shook her head, quickly recovering. “Well, it is amazing how much your appearance can change when you move to a town with more than two clothing stores.”

“Ah yes, the big city,” said Ruby, taking a seat at the table, a cup of gumdrops still firmly in her grip. She looked over at Regina, her green eyes blazing with curiosity. “What is it like up there? All fabulous parties and cute guys?”

Hearing talks of New York, Belle also wandered over to the table. “Ooh, have you been to the library yet?”

Ruby narrowed her eyes at her cousin. “How are we related?”

Regina snorted while Belle just rolled her eyes.

“I have actually been to the library,” said Regina, looking over at Belle. “It’s huge. You’re gonna love it.”

“I don’t wanna hear about books, I want to hear about boys,” stressed Ruby, leaning forward in her seat. “Have you hooked up with any cute guys yet?”

“Please don’t answer that,” Granny called out, from behind the counter.

“I think she should,” interjected Shawna, who suddenly seemed very invested in Regina’s answer. Robin just remained silent.

“No I haven’t hooked up with any cute guys,” Regina answered, disappointing half the room. “But I’m not gonna lie, they do run rampant up there.”

Shawna hummed, lifting an eyebrow in Regina’s direction. “Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll manage to snag one by Spring Break.”

Regina scoffed. “Yeah, meeting a guy is not my biggest priority.”

“It should be,” Ruby muttered, under her breath.

Again, Regina felt her cheeks go red. She knew Ruby didn’t mean anything by the comment but it did get under her skin. The truth was, Regina had hoped for a little bit of romance during her college experience but four months in and her prospects seemed just as barren as they did in high school. Maybe even more so.

Granny walked over and placed her hand on Regina’s shoulders. “Well, I am just happy that you’re going to school and getting an education. That’s the most important thing.”

Regina smiled as Granny pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Proud of you,” the older woman whispered in her ear.

Robin returned to the table and slinked back into his chair. “So, what is it like going to school at Columbia Law?”

“It’s great,” said Regina, a genuine smile appearing on her face. “Finally feels like I’m where I’m meant to be.”

Robin nodded, focusing his attention back to the cookies. “Must be nice,” he softly replied.

Regina tilted her head, curiously. Maybe it was just her imagination but for a second she thought she heard a hint of bitterness in Robin’s tone.

They finished up the cookies not long after that. Half an hour later the kitchen counter was covered in dozens of gingerbread men just waiting to be eaten. After finishing off her last cookie Regina went to the bathroom to wash her hands and was surprised when she came back to find Robin and Shawna gone.

“Where did those two go?” she asked Belle and Ruby.

Belle gestured toward the back door. “Shawna’s family is flying out of town tomorrow so she had to leave early.”

“And Robin’s sticking his tongue down her throat to say goodbye,” added Ruby with a smirk.

“Ugh!” Regina scrunched her face up in disgust. “I really didn’t need to hear that.”

Ruby giggled as Regina sat down at the table with them. “There it is!” she said, pointing at Regina’s face. “I knew you still hated her but it’s impressive how well you managed to hold it in.”

Regina glared at her. “I don’t hate Shawna...I just think Robin can do better.”

Ruby hummed in a disbelieving tone while Belle just shrugged her shoulders. “I like Shawna,” she declared, unconvincingly.

Ruby scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Please…”

“What? I think she’s nice!” Belle tried to insist.

“Nice enough to be your sister-in-law?” Ruby challenged, raising an eyebrow in her direction.

Belle immediately went silent while Regina narrowed her eyes at Ruby, confused. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Come on, you know Shawna’s pushing for the R-I-N-G ever since they got back together. Robin’s been half a wreck about it. Doesn’t really know what to say yet.”

“He hasn’t talked to you about it?” Belle softly asks.

Regina crossed her arms and remained silent. Because no, he hadn’t talked to her about it. In fact, he hadn’t even mentioned Shawna until she’d gotten back home. Pressing her lips together she tried to contain her rapidly boiling anger.

Shawna wanted to get married… and Robin was actually considering giving in to her?

Five months ago she would’ve sworn that she knew everything that went on in his life. But hearing this, from Ruby no less, made her feel like she was nothing more than a stranger at the dinner table. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t told her. Did she matter that little to him?

The back door opened and Robin walked in. He sighed, walking over to the table. “Okay, Shawna’s on her way home. Which movies do you guys want to watch this year?”

Regina stared up at him, her head suddenly heavy with the thought of him slipping a ring onto Shawna’s bony finger without telling her.

Careful not to betray her true feelings, she stood from her seat. “Actually, I’m gonna head out too.”

Robin’s eyes landed on her and she saw a flicker of hurt and disbelief pass over his face. “Already? Really?”

She nodded. “It’s been a long day Robin. You know I had to wake up early to drive down here and I haven’t slept since. I’m just… tired.”

It was a poor excuse, one that they both knew wasn’t true. She saw Robin clench his jaw before nodding his head in acceptance. “Okay, I’ll tell Granny you said goodbye.”

She forced a smile onto her face, muttering a tense thanks before disappearing from the kitchen. Slipping on her jacket, she left out the front door, making sure to grab Robin’s gift from under the tree before she left.

He probably didn’t even want it.

XXXX

Robin wasn’t a stupid person. He was smart enough to know that this Christmas wasn’t going nearly as well as he’d hoped. Cookie decorating had turned out to be a bust. He’d barely spent any time with Regina before she’d packed up and left early. And to add insult to injury, the next morning he realized that she’d dropped off presents for everyone in the house but him. It’d been days since she came over and she’d barely spoken to him, only offering up chit chat when she came into the diner and not much else. If he didn’t know any better he’d say she was pissed at him. But what possible reason could she have to be angry?

Standing in front of his mirror Robin groaned in frustration as he tried to loop his tie into a knot. It was the night of Cora’s dinner party and at this point he wondered if he should even bother showing up. With the way Regina was blowing him off he doubted she even wanted him there. After the failure of his fifth attempt, Robin threw the tie on his dresser and fell back onto his bed with a sigh.

Maybe things had changed between him and Regina. Maybe they’d finally drifted apart.

“You know, I really wonder how you made it to nineteen without learning how to knot your ties?”

Robin sat up at the sound of Granny’s chuckles coming from his doorway. Shrugging his shoulders he replied, “What can I say? I grew up in a house full of women.”

Smirking, Granny shook her head. “Do you need help getting ready for the party?”

“No,” sighed Robin. “Because I’m not going.”

Granny’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“Why should I?” said Robin. “I doubt it’s gonna be any fun and it’s not like Regina wants me there anyway.”

“Of course she wants you there,” Granny insisted. “She’s your best friend.”

“Well she’s not acting like it!” snapped Robin. “She’s barely hung out with me since she’s got here.” He scoffed. “Probably thinks she’s too good for me now that she’s rubbed elbows with the Ivy League elite.”

“Okay, enough,” said Granny, raising a hand. Crossing her arms, she shook her head once more. “What the hell is going on with you two?”

Robin rolled his eyes but offered up no response. Granny sighed, before moving to sit next to him on the bed. “Robin, I watched you and Regina grow up together. Now you two were thick as thieves when she left here, what changed?”

Shrugging, Robin mumbled, “I don’t know. I guess we just stopped talking.”

“Then start again,” Granny ordered, her voice stern. “If there is one thing a relationship can’t survive it is laziness. You have to put in some effort.”

“I am!” he insisted. “I’ve tried. It’s not like I haven’t tried to talk to her.”

Granny tilted her head, sending him a knowing look. “Really? You’ve really tried?”

Robin’s resolve faltered. If he was being honest he would admit that he hadn’t really been reaching out to Regina like he used to in high school. He hadn’t told her that he and Shawna had gotten back together months ago, nor had he asked her opinion on her marital demands.

His gaze dropped downwards. “It’s been harder since she’s been gone. It’s not easy talking to her when she’s all the way in New York.”

“My sister was all the way in England and I managed,” Granny pointed out. “And that was before all this newfangled texting and email.”

She scrunched her nose as she listed all the complicated ways people were able to communicate and Robin smirked at her technological disdain.

“If it matters you find a way,” Granny insisted. “And as far as the distance goes, she’s right down the street for tonight. So I suggest you put on that tie and hop to. You don’t have long before she’s gone again.”

Sucking in a breath she stood from the bed. “Take it from me Robin, you don’t want to lose a friend like Regina. You’ll never find another one like her.”

Robin sighed watching Granny walk out of his room, leaving nothing behind but the weight of her wisdom. His eyes flickered to the desk in the corner where he’d left Regina’s Christmas present. He’d wrapped it days before she even got here.

A small token of affection for his best friend.

Standing to his feet, he grabbed the tie and got started on attempt number six. If he was going to beg for her attention he might as well look good doing it.

XXXX

The inside of the Mills house was just as Robin remembered. Grandiose in all seasons but especially so during Christmas. Stepping into the foyer Robin was greeted with the smell of pine and the soft sound of Christmas music coming from the living room, where he knew he would find a Christmas tree that stood at least 3 feet taller than him. There was a poinsettia on every table and an old fashioned nutcracker standing guard in every hall. He frowned when he saw one next to the coat rack. The ugly things had always creeped him out.

The party, though small, was well underway by the time he arrived. He saw at least a dozen adults gathered in the living room, drinks in hand, enjoying cocktail hour. He envied them. At least they had something to take the edge off.

Despite the fact that all the attendees surely lived in Storybrooke, Robin hardly knew anyone there. They were all a few leagues above his income bracket. He nervously tugged on his old tie. Seeing them in their expensive clothes and jewelry made him feel wildly underdressed.

“Robin!”

Coming from the hallway, Henry Mills approached him with a wide welcoming smile. “Glad you could make it!”

“Glad to be here,” Robin lied, giving him a hug.

“How are you son?” he asked.

“I’m good,” Robin automatically replied. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Of course,” said Henry. “You’re always welcome here. You know that.”

His brown eyes were nothing short of sincere as he spoke but Robin could only offer up a sheepish smile and nod. He’d always liked Regina’s father. Despite being mayor, Henry Mills was a very down to earth man. Always understanding and kind, especially to his employees and their family. When Granny had worked as Regina’s nanny he’d always encouraged her to bring along Robin and Belle whenever she felt like it. And after she’d quit to strike out on her own he’d never stopped treating Robin like anything less than family. He was a good man. One of the best as far as Robin was concerned.

Henry nodded toward the gift box in his hands. “That for Regina? I hope it’s not a tennis bracelet, if it is I’m gonna have to make some calls.”

Robin shook his head as he chuckled at Henry’s joke and passed over the box. “No, nothing that elaborate. Just something small I think she’d like.”

“I’m sure she’s gonna love it,” Henry assured him.

I hope she does, Robin thought to himself. He had worked hard on it.

Before he could elaborate any further the girl in question came downstairs. Robin took one look at her and felt even more underdressed than before. Wearing a black sweater dress and a bright red lipstick Regina looked more grown up than he’d ever seen her. As she walked down to the foyer he saw a flicker of surprise go across her eyes.

Walking over she cleared her throat. “So you decided to come?”

“Of course,” he said. “You invited me.”

“Right,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “I just figured you’d find other plans by now.”

An awkward silence fell over them as Robin tried to discern whether or not that was a blow against him. It certainly felt like one.

Regina shrugged her shoulders. “I mean you always hated things like this.”

“So did you,” he softly replied, narrowing his eyes at her.

Regina looked up then, her brown eyes boldly lasering in on his blue. “Well, apparently people change.”

Now that was a blow. The air between them grew tense as Robin tilted his head, taking in her crossed arms and rigid stare. She was angry at him. He could see it now, clear as day. What he couldn’t see what the reason.

“Regina!”

The sound of heels against marble came cantering down the hall and within seconds Cora Mills appeared, looking as put together as ever. Her chestnut hair was up in a bun, as her hands reached up to her left ear securing a pearl earring in place. She let out a relieved breath when she saw her daughter standing in the foyer.

“Oh good you’re ready.” She frowned as she ran her eyes over Regina’s daughter. “Really, darling? Black? Could you not have picked a more joyful color?”

Robin saw Regina tense before answering her mother with a stiff, “I’m sorry. It was all I brought along with me.”

Cora softly moaned, dissatisfied. “Well, I suppose it’ll have to do.”

Finally dropping her hands from her ear, she pinched her eyebrows together when her gaze landed on Robin. “What are you doing here?”

Her displeasure couldn’t be clearer but Robin managed not to let his annoyance show. He’d always known that Cora Mills wasn’t his biggest fan. Frankly, she’d never done much to hide it.

“Daddy invited him,” Regina automatically answered.

Shaking her head, Cora rolled her eyes, obviously annoyed. “God that man,” she hissed under her breath. Eyeing Robin’s attire she reluctantly shrugged her shoulders. “Well… at least you had the good sense to wear a tie.”

Before Robin could muster up a response, she was already reaching out and grabbing Regina by the arm. “Come along, sweetheart. There are people you need to meet.”

Regina only glanced in Robin’s direction before allowing herself to be whisked off by her mother, who took a quick moment to remind Robin not to lurk before pulling her daughter away toward people of higher stature.

Robin didn’t even try to follow.

XXXXX

Cocktail hour was hell.

For one thing, outside of Regina, Robin was the youngest person in the room by a minimum of twenty years. The age gap made mingling more than difficult. He’d hoped that Regina would help him get through the night by whispering some of her legendary snarky commentary but after the foyer he barely got a moment with her. She spent the whole hour by her mother’s side, shaking hands with everyone who stepped in her direction.

He watched her from across the room. It appeared she was navigating the social minefield with ease, all smiles and laughter. From the snippets that he could hear, all the conversations revolved around school and her plans for the future. A topic Regina could cover with ease. She’d always known what she wanted to do, always had a plan for her future. Impressing adults with determination and drive came naturally to her.

Robin, however, was not so lucky.

He’d only spoken to two other people since he got here. They’d both asked him his plans for the future and he’d faltered both times. It’s hard to make “I’m not sure” sound interesting. Once you put it out there it would most certainly be followed by an awkward “well, good for you” or a forced “I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually.” It was that last one that really stuck under his skin. Seven months since graduation and his future was still muddy. He was starting to doubt that it would ever be clear.

After forty minutes he couldn’t stand it anymore. He needed some air.

Waiting for a moment when no one’s eyes were on him, he slipped out the door into the backyard. Cold winter air hit his skin and he inhaled deeply, finally able to breathe. It was cold as hell outside but he already felt more comfortable than he did inside. Wrapping his arms around himself he headed over to the heated gazebo next to the pool.

He sat down on a bench overlooking the pool, trying to recall the last time he’d been here. It had been six months ago, only a few weeks after graduation. Regina had invited him over to go swimming. Back then they knew they’d only had a few more weeks with each other and had been determined to make the most of it. They’d spent nearly every day together that summer, talking about the future, reminiscing about their past all the while promising each other that nothing would really change.

God… even back then he knew he was lying.

He always knew things would change. He just hadn’t realized how much.

Robin jumped, startled, when he heard the door close from across the yard. He saw Regina step outside, shivering in her sweater dress and black boots. She crossed her arms when she saw him huddled inside the gazebo.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” she hissed. “It’s cold and everyone’s inside.”

Robin shrugged. “I just needed some air. A chance to catch my breath.”

“Oh,” she mumbled, dropping her eyes to the ground. “Well, dinner’s gonna start soon.”

“I brought you a gift,” he blurted out. She turned back with wide eyes as he continued to speak. “I left it with your dad, he put it under the tree.”

“Oh.” He breath comes out in puffs of white clouds. “Thanks.”

Shifting from foot to foot, she avoided his eyes. “I got you something too. I just… left it at my dorm. I’ll have to mail it to you when I get back.”

Robin scoffed at her. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” she lied.

After ten years of whispered secrets and hidden looks, Robin would’ve thought that she’d know better than to lie to him… but still she tried. He could see it in her eyes and hear it in her tone. She probably hadn’t even gotten him a Christmas gift at all. The thought probably hadn’t even crossed her mind.

He stared down at her, hurt, running his eyes over her, trying to search behind the makeup and straightened hair to find a glimmer of his best friend but he could hardly see her. She was hidden behind this new shiny girl who didn’t even have time for him anymore.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly offended. “Excuse me?”

“Why’d you even invite me here?” he asked. “It’s obvious that you don’t want to see me. You haven’t said a word to me all night.”

“Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t stay latched to your side the whole time,” she sneered. “I’m not one of your clingy girlfriends.”

“Shawna isn’t clingy,” he immediately replied.

Regina scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“You know what, Shawna might not be perfect but at least she’s real.”

“Ha!” barked Regina. “Since when is bleach blonde hair and a spray tan considered real?”

“You are acting like such a snob!” he growled.

“Having standards isn’t being a snob,” she shot back. “And for the record, Robin, I invited you because I missed you but clearly the feeling wasn’t mutual.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you haven’t spoken to me in weeks!” she growled. “I’ve called you and emailed you for weeks but you never have anything to say. You barely say two sentences to me anymore. Hell, you didn’t even tell me that you got back together with Shawna and apparently that happened months ago.”

“Oh my god! Why do you care so much about whether or not I’m with her? It’s not like you even like her.”

Regina glared at him. “You know what, Robin… I don’t care. You can screw Shawna, marry her and have a hundred kids for all I care.”

“Gee, thanks for your blessing,” he sarcastically snapped. “You know, maybe I didn’t tell you about her because I knew you’d judge me.”

“Whatever Robin,” she replied rolling her eyes. “You know you don’t get to be mad at me because I chose to grow up and you didn’t.”

Robin’s cheeks began to sting at her words. She could’ve slapped him and he swore it wouldn’t hurt less.

“I’m going home,” he said. “Have a nice life, Mills.”

“Right back at you, Locksley.”

XXXX

Regina could barely get through dinner after Robin left. After he’d quietly stormed out, it was like all the emotion from their fight balled up in her chest and refused to leave. Her skin burned all evening as she tried to choke down her anger with food, and her sorrow with silence. The meal was barely half over before she discreetly excused herself and disappeared up into her room where she could silently stew. She knew her mother would be furious that she’d bailed early but she didn’t care. She was too angry with Robin.

His words replayed in her head. Calling her a snob, defending Shawna, the way he’d looked at her. It played in her mind like a loop making her angrier with each pass.

As she sat in her room she listened to the noise from downstairs grow softer and softer, the number of voices disappearing one by one. When she finally heard the Christmas music cut off she knew the party was over. Sitting up on her bed, she steeled herself for the moment Cora would arrive and chew her out for leaving early.

Instead, there was just a soft knock at her door. Her father poked his head inside her room. “Safe to enter?”

Regina let out a relieved breath. “Sure daddy.”

She waved him in, pleased to see that he’d brought along desert with him.

“I saved you a slice of pumpkin pie,” he said, passing it over. “I know it’s your favorite.”

“Thanks,” said Regina, setting it on her nightstand. Normally she’d look forward to devouring a slice of her favorite holiday treat but tonight her appetite was small.

Her father sat next to her on the bed, and looked over with concerned eyes. “So… do you want to explain why I saw Robin leaving so early, and not happily I might add.”

Regina shrugged. “He left because he’s an ass.”

Henry sent her a stern look. “Language!”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “But he is being a jerk.”

“What happened?” Henry asked, concerned.

Regina sighed. “He called me a snob and said I was judgy, all because I dared to speak ill of his precious little girlfriend, who he didn’t even tell me he was dating again.”

She crossed her arms, still upset, and Henry comfortingly patted her knee. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Whatever,” she sighed, growing melancholy. “Daddy… do you still talk to your friends from high school?”

Henry tilted his head, thinking it over. “Not as much as I used to, no. I get a card or announcement every now and then… but nothing as substantial as a visit. I don’t know very many people who do.”

“Right,” mumbled Regina, growing thoughtful.

All through high school she and Robin had run into adults who told them to enjoy their friendships while they lasted, reminding them that after high school they’d drift apart and probably never speak again. Everytime she’d rolled her eyes, convinced they were delusional. She’d been so sure that she and Robin would be friends forever but now she wasn’t so certain. Maybe the two of them growing apart was just the natural order of things. An inevitable destiny.

“You’re worried about you and Robin, aren’t you sweetheart?”

Regina nodded, taking a deep breath. “I thought it would be easier coming home to see him but it’s like… we’re not clicking anymore. I can’t talk to him like I used to. Feels like he’s not even my friend anymore.”

Henry nodded his head understandingly. “I know it’s difficult, sweetheart, but you and Robin will get past this. I’m certain of it.”

Regina scoffed. “How can you be certain of it?”

“Because I’ve watched you.” He said with a smile. “Regina… do you remember when you were 11 years old and sprained your ankle on the balance beam at gymnastics?”

“Yes,” she groaned, still cringing at the memory. It was the first time she’d felt real pain.”

“Your ankle had to be wrapped and you were upset because a girl in your class was having a pool party for her birthday and it meant that you couldn’t go,” said Henry. “Do you know who showed up and spent the day with you even though it meant missing the pool party?”

Regina rolled her eyes. “Robin did.”

She remembered that he’d shown up at her door, candy and movies in hand, prepared to spend the day in bed with her so she wouldn’t be the only one missing out.

“Yes he did,” said Henry. “And do you remember when you were 8 and we got you your first bicycle without training wheels. I wanted to teach you how to ride that day but do you remember what you said.”

Regina groaned, embarrassed. “I said I wanted to wait.”

“Why?”

“Because Robin’s birthday was three months later and I wanted us both to learn at the same time, I remember.”

“I bet you do,” laughed Henry.

Regina shook her head, despite the smile on her face. That bicycle had spent weeks in her garage gathering dust while she waited for Robin to get one of his own. Her father had ended up teaching them together.

“I know it seems difficult right now, honey,” said Henry. “But I have to believe that if you and Robin were truly meant to drift apart you would’ve done it by now. But you haven’t. You’ve stuck by each other’s side through high school, middle school. Why should college be any different?”

“Because he’s not by my side anymore,” Regina pointed out. “He hasn’t been there for a while now.”

Henry nodded his head solemnly. “Distance can make things harder, I know, but if you care about Robin like I know you do... You’ll find a way to talk to him.”

Regina looked over at her father. “How?”

“Well, maybe start with this.” He passed over a small, rectangular gift covered in shimmering gold, wrapping paper. “He brought that for you.” Regina gently took it from her father’s hands, noticing it was heavier than she expected.

“I’ll let you open it alone,” said Henry, standing from the bed. “But I hope it’s something that you like.”

He pressed a quick kiss to her head before leaving her alone with the gift. Regina sighed, looking down at it warily. Robin had always been a decent gift giver but she doubted that whatever lay beneath the shiny paper was enough to mend the crack in their friendship. No single gift was that powerful.

Tugging at the edge, she started ripping off the paper. Her breath caught in her throat when it was finally revealed what was underneath.

It was a wooden, three-sided photo frame with two pictures inside. The photo on the left was the two of them at seven years old, sitting at Granny’s kitchen table wearing matching sweaters with a pile of cookies between them. Their first Christmas together.

In the center was a second photograph that she recognized instantly. It was from last year’s Christmas. Taken ten years after the first picture, it was still the two of them, still at Granny’s table with another pile of cookies, the only difference being that they were 17 years old, officially too old to wear matching sweaters as she recalled.

The third frame was empty. In lieu of a photo there was just a yellow post-it note with a message written in black sharpie.

TO BE FILLED DECEMBER 2012.

A watery smile tugged on Regina’s lips.

She was right. A simple gift was not enough to mend all the cracks in her and Robin’s friendship.

But it was reason enough to try.

XXXXX

Main street was awfully quiet the next night.

It was the night before Christmas Eve, only a day after her fight with Robin, and Regina stood on the sidewalk in front of Granny’s watching through the window as he served the last customer for the evening. The diner always shut up early for the holidays and Granny had told her that Robin had offered to close up for the evening. Though she shivered in the cold air, Regina waited for the final customer to leave before she went inside. She wanted the chance to speak to Robin alone. Should things go badly she didn’t want there to be an audience.

Finally, the old man at the counter dropped some dollar bills next to his empty coffee cup and took off for the night. Regina sighed, watching Robin lock the door after him. Well, it was now or never.

She waited for Robin to walk away from the window before rushing over to the patio and kneeling next to the garden gnome by the front door, smiling when she lifted up its red cap to find the spare key, right where she remembered. Some things just didn’t change.

She wasted no time unlocking the door and walking into the diner’s warmth. It was always eerie being in Granny’s when it was empty, and so silent you could hear a pin drop.

She’d barely locked the door again before Robin poked his head out from the kitchen and softly groaned when he saw her standing there. He rolled his eyes. “If the doors are locked it means we’re closed.”

“Well, then maybe you should find a better place to hide the spare key.” She scoffed when he narrowed his eyes at her. “I used to work here too, remember?”

Robin only crossed his arms, defensively, while she took off her coat and grabbed a seat at the counter. “What are you doing here?”

Regina hesitated before speaking. “I came to see you,” she softly replied. “I opened your gift.”

She saw of flash of emotion go across his face before he turned from her, choosing to focus on wiping down the counters instead of her presence. “You did?”

She nodded. “I liked it a lot. It was clever… and beautiful.”

Robin’s hands slowed but he continued to wipe at the counter. “Glad you liked it,” he mumbled.

Regina stared at him, willing him to pay attention to her. “You made it, didn’t you?”

He looked at her then, surprise in his eyes, shocked that she’d even noticed.

“There wasn’t a price sticker,” she said, with a smile. “If there had been you would’ve forgotten to take it off, like always.”

His lips tick upwards, as if he was fighting a smile. Robin was notorious for leaving on price tags. It was bit of a running joke between Regina and the rest of his family. Sighing, he finally abandoned his cleaning and turned to face her.

“It wasn’t as much work as it looks,” he deflected. “I just wanted to get you something nice.”

“You did,” she said, with a nod. “Not quite sure I deserve it though. I haven’t exactly been the nicest friend this year.”

Robin smirked, leaning next to her at the counter. “Yeah… join the club.”

Regina let out a soft chuckle before sighing. “Robin… why’d you stop talking to me?”

He looked into her eyes and saw them drowning in confusion and hurt. It made him feel like such a jackass because he knew that she’d tried. She’d emailed and she’d called but he’d been the one who hadn’t responded.

“It… it’s hard to explain,” he said. “I just felt like I had nothing to say.”

“And is that true?” asked Regina. “Do you really have nothing to say?”

Robin shook his head. “I think I have something say, I’m just… too embarrassed to say it to you.”

Shock passed over Regina’s eyes before she let out a quick snort. “Robin… we’ve been friends since we were seven. I’ve seen you eat a piece of pizza out of the trash and you know I have a massive crush on Alan Rickman. There’s no such thing as embarrassment between us.”

Robin couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped his lips. “For the record, you should be embarrassed about the Alan Rickman thing.”

“He is classy, sophisticated and would treat me right,” she insisted, with a chuckle. “But I’m not here to talk about him. I’d rather talk about you.”

Robin sighed. “Well if we’re gonna do that, then I’m gonna need to borrow some courage.”

It was always a poorly kept secret that Granny kept a spare bottle of the good tequila in the third left hand drawer of her office desk. All her grandchildren - with the exception of Belle - had taken at least one swig from it. Never enough for her to notice but just enough for their lightweight heads to feel a bit more chipper during closing time.

However, it became clear when Robin took both the bottle and two shot glasses that one small swig wasn’t all he intended for them.

“Let’s call it Truth and Tequila,” he said. “We’ll take one shot of alcohol in exchange for one shot of honesty. You ask me a question, I take a shot and answer it for you. You do the same for me.”

Sitting in the corner booth, Regina grimaced as she watched him fill up the shot glasses. She hadn’t drunk a lot of alcohol in her life but still she was pretty sure tequila wasn’t her favorite. If this is what it took to get Robin talking though, she’d suffer through it.

Sliding the first shot glass over to him, she declared, “You’re the youngest. That means you drink first.”

“Fine,” muttered Robin, rolling his eyes. “Ask away.”

“Okay…” Regina hesitated, unsure of what to ask first. Of course she wanted to know about Shawna and whether he intended to propose but she didn’t want to risk putting him off. It was better to ease into it.

“How was work?”

Robin sighed, disappointed by her lack of nerve, before drinking his shot. “Slow,” he answered. “Hardly anyone came in. Guess all the parents would rather be home with their kids.”

Regina saw sadness in his eyes and knew that he was thinking of his own parents. This year would be his twelfth Christmas without them. Before she could even consider bringing them up Robin pushed the second glass in her direction.

“Your turn,” he challenged. “How was the rest of the party?”

She dropped her eyes down to her shot and took a deep breath before downing the tequila in three sips. Her face twisting up in discomfort as she felt it slide down her throat before warmly settling into her belly.

Once finished she looked back up at Robin, who was clearly taking pleasure in her reaction, and replied, “It was just as fun as you’d expect. Lots of parents bragging about their kids, talks of visiting Europe when things warmed up. Barely even made it through dinner after you left.”

Robin shrugged. “Bet your mom showed you off, though?”

“She did,” sighed Regina, nodding. “Even flashed a few of Zelena’s awards too.”

Her heart stuttered when she mentioned her older sister. She hadn’t seen her since graduation. They’d never been close but other than a chat here and there it felt like she hadn’t talked to her in years. Even still, she’d been disappointed to hear that she wasn’t coming home for Christmas. It didn’t exactly feel right that they were celebrating without her.

“You sad she didn’t show up?” asked Robin.

Regina bit her lip, then shook her head, wanting to change the subject. “It’s not your turn to ask questions, remember?”

She pushed the bottle of tequila back over to him and he scoffed before pouring himself another shot. “Fine, what do you want to know?”

She shrugged. “What’s it’s been like staying home?”

Honestly she didn’t think her question was such a heavy one but the way he paused, clenching his jaw, told her she was wrong. Robin downed his shot but still hesitated before giving her an answer.

“Staying home is… hard,” he said. “I get up, I go to work, I go home and that’s it most days. Nearly every week is the same and I’ve never been more bored in my entire life.”

He looked down at his empty glass, dejectedly, while Regina grimaced.

“That sounds rough,” she mumbles. “But at least you have your family… and Shaw-na.”

She still couldn’t help the bitterness that came with her name but saw that it brought a smirk to Robin’s face as he whispered a small yeah.

Straightening up and clearing his throat, he nodded toward her shot glass. “So… how are things at school?”

Regina’s shook her head before slowly drinking her second shot. “Things at school… are lonely.”

She paused, giving the alcohol a moment to help lower her inhibitions. “I haven’t made any friends and… I miss you. But it just feels like I have no one to talk to.”

Hot embarrassment rose up in her cheeks as she revealed her truth. Thinking of all the lonely nights she’d spent in her dorm room wishing she had someone to call or hangout with. In four months she still hadn’t connected with a single person and the solitude was starting to kill her a bit.

Guilt showed up in Robin’s eyes. “You could’ve talked to me,” he offered.

Regina huffs, rolling her eyes. “And get a two-sentence email in response?” She pointedly raised her eyebrow at him. “Yeah, been there done that.”

Robin blew out a guilty breath but still argued, “Well, you still could’ve called.”

“And you could’ve called too,” she shot back. “If you were so bored here, why’d you stop calling me?”

“Because I had nothing to say!” he blurted out.

Regina’s eyes widened and Robin sighed before continuing. “And maybe… maybe I was a little bitter that you left. I would’ve tried more if I knew you were having a hard time.”

He averted his eyes, the shame clear on his face. She’d almost forgotten about the game when she saw him reach for the bottle and pour another a shot.

“You said you were making friends,” he mumbled. “I just figured that you wouldn’t miss me.”

She stared at him as he drank his tequila, wondering how she managed to be best friends with someone so oblivious. Of course she’d missed him.

“I lied,” she softly admitted. Lightweight as she was, she could already feel the alcohol pulling on the edge of her mind. “I don’t have any friends in New York. I spend all my time either in class, or in the library, or in my room by myself. The most human interaction I have is with the sales associates at Barney’s.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” asked Robin.

Regina fell back against the booth, letting out a miserable breath. “Because it sucks, Robin!” She sighed. “I left this town thinking that if I had a clean enough slate and a good enough wardrobe change I’d stop feeling like a loser… but nothing has changed.”

Realizing that he’d just asked another question she poured another shot, feeling it sting the back of her throat as she drank it.

“Hey, you’re not a loser,” Robin gently insisted, leaning forward. “You’re the coolest person I know.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh please.”

“I mean it! You had plenty of friends in high school.”

“I had plenty of your friends in high school,” she immediately clarified, pointing a finger in his directions. “You were the one who would make friends like that,” - she snapped her fingers for emphasis - “and they’d also be my friends because we were a package deal. But I’ve never been good at making them on my own and I’m still not.”

Robin sat back, stunned, at her admission. “Wow… I never thought about it like that.”

“I did,” she mumbled. “A lot, in fact.”

She rested her chin in her hand and Robin could tell she was getting sad.

“Alright, that’s enough out of you.” His words slurred just the tiniest bit as she poured himself another shot. “Give me another question,” he ordered. “Make it as tough as you like.”

She raised an eyebrow, mischievously. Fine, he asked for it. Boldly leaning forward, she folded her hands on the table in a business-like manner.

“Why did you get back together with Shawna?”

Robin narrowed his eyes at her. Well, he saw that one coming. Taking a moment to steel his nerves, he swallowed his shot in one gulp. “I got back together with Shawna… because I felt like I had nothing better to do.”

Regina squinted at him, confused. “What?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true. I mean I’m not in school, I’m not traveling. I have nothing planned for my future past Christmas. So when I found out that she wanted to get back together I figured… why not? At least I’ll have something in my life that’s moving forward.”

Regina’s jaw dropped in shock. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“Not a bit.”

An offended squeak came from the back of Regina’s throat as she stared him down, judgment clear in her eyes. “You realize just how much of a jackass that makes you right?”

“I am aware of it, yes,” Robin grumbled, with a sigh.

She stared at him shocked. “Oh my god… is that why you’re thinking of marrying her?”

His eyes whipped toward her face. “Who told you that?”

“Guess,” she deadpanned.

It took a few seconds but he eventually closed his eyes and groaned. “Goddamnit Ruby!”

Regina leaned back in her seat with a small chuckle. “But seriously… do you actually want to marry her?”

“No, I don’t want to marry her,” he immediately replied.

A woosh of relief went through Regina’s body.

“But it feels kind of nice to have the option,” he softly added.

Regina sighed. “Robin… you know how I feel about Shawna…”

“Everyone knows how you feel about Shawna,” he chuckled.

“But,” she drawled, glaring at him, “even I think she deserves better than to be your backup plan or just a way for you to pass the time.”

“I know,” he muttered. “And since we’re being honest I’m already kind of planning on breaking up with her.”

Regina raised her eyebrows, surprised. “Really?”

“Yes,” said Robin, rolling his eyes. “I just wanted to wait until after the holidays. I mean I already screwed up her prom. I can’t be the ex that ruined Christmas too.”

Regina snorted with laughter and nodded her head. “That’s so considerate of you.”

Sighing, she shifted in her side of the booth so she could stretch out her legs along the seats. She’d had three shots now and her head was starting to feel joyfully dizzy as she poured herself a fourth. “Okay my turn, ask me something.”

“Hmm…” Robin thought it over as he matched her body language, stretching out in the booth. “Did you really like the frame I made you?”

She nodded her head before downing her shot, which went down much smoother than the last. “Yes, I loved your frame. It was beautiful and well-crafted.”

“Thank you,” he said, with a grin. “I lied before, I actually worked hard on it.”

“I could tell,” she mumbled, a loopy smile appearing on her face..

Robin sighed, resting his cheek against his hand. “Maybe I should just throw in the towel and become a carpenter.”

Regina tilted her head at him. “Do you want to be a carpenter?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “But I don’t have any idea what I want to be.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“Everyone keeps saying that!” he stressed, a little louder than intended. “It’s all anyone tells me now!”

“They keep telling you that because it’s true!” she insisted.

Robin snorted, “That easy for you to say. You’ve wanted to be a lawyer since you were ten.”

“True,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “But that’s because I love it. You know I’ve always loved to argue. I like going to classes for it and learning about laws and cases. It’s honestly the only thing keeping me alive in New York.”

Robin glared at her. “Is there a point to this or are you just bragging?”

“I’m just saying,” she drawled, “that whatever you choose to do, you might be doing it for the rest of your life, so it’s smart that you’re making sure that you love it, even if it takes you a little longer to get started.”

A grateful smile appeared on Robin’s face as he listened to her speak. It’s the first time in a while that he’d actually believed someone when they talked about his future. “Thanks, Mills. You always did know just what to say.”

She smiled but his face grew solemn as his gaze dropped down to the table. “You know it got hard hearing you talk about New York. That’s why I stopped responding as much.”

“Really?” Her voice came out so soft and surprised as she stared at him, her eyes wide with shock.

Robin nodded. “Every time we emailed or called, you would talk about your classes and your plans for the future. And it kept reminding me that… I didn’t have any. I don’t have a passion, or a plan for my life. It’s pathetic.”

“It is not pathetic!” Regina immediately straightened up, unwilling to let him demean himself any longer. “You have time to figure it out. You don’t need to rush.”

“I know,” said Robin, his words blending together. “I’m so used to jumping into things without thinking but now I just feel like I’m… stuck.”

Regina hummed understandingly, before looking over with a wide smile. “Well… you know what would help get you unstuck?”

Robin groaned, shaking his head. “Please don’t say a pro and cons list.”

“A pro and cons list!” she proudly declared, banging on the table, causing Robin to throw his head back in despair. “I know you think they’re stupid but they are helpful. And they can help you figure out what you want.”

Robin only groaned in response.

Regina pouted. “What if I said we could make a drinking game out of it?”

Robin perked up. “Now that could be interesting.”

“I’ll get a notepad.”

Gleefully giggling she climbed out of the booth and ran toward Granny’s office to grab a notepad. By the time she got back, Robin had already poured them each another shot. She fell into his side of the booth, bumping into his shoulder before they happily clinked glasses. All night they traded shots of tequila for pros and cons of Robin’s future career, taking breaks to talk, and eat and dance to the music in the jukebox. It was the most fun Regina had in months and for the first time since she’d returned home she felt like she had her best friend.

The last thing she remembered that night was climbing back into the booth with Robin and staring down at the illegible pro and cons chart they’d created.

Leaning her head against his shoulder she whispered, “I have another question.”

“Shoot,” he mumbled, just as drunk as she was.

“Did you miss me while I was gone?” she softly asked.

Eyes closed, Robin sighed leaning his head against hers. “Every damn day.”

Regina smiled, pleased. “Good.”

XXXX

It didn’t take long for Regina to remember why getting drunk was a bad idea. In fact, she remembered as soon as she woke up. Probably because she was awoken by the rousing sound of six metal mixing bowls falling against a linoleum floor. The loud vibrations passed through her dehydrated brain like spears sending her shooting up in the booth where she’d fallen asleep.Out of the corner of her eye she saw Robin do the same, wincing with every subtle vibration. She’d had hangovers before but nothing as bad as this. Especially considering that when she and Robin woke up they most certainly weren’t alone.

Squinting against the morning light, a shiver went down her spine when she saw Granny standing next to the booth, surrounded by dropped bowls, her arms folded across her chest and fury dancing in her eyes. When she spoke her voice was dangerously low.

“Good morning,” she said, staring them down. “So… who wants to try and explain first?”

Regina glanced at Robin, who by the looks of it was just as hungover and terrified as her.

Granny nodded. “It’s okay. Take your time. Because I know you must have a hell of a tale to explain why I walked in to find the two of you passed out in the booth with my bottle of good tequila that is now three-quarters empty!”

Her voice reverberated against the walls causing them both to wince in pain. Remaining silent, they only grimaced in response.

“No answer?” Still furious, she chuckled. “Well I guess you’ll have plenty of time to figure it out while you’re scrubbing this place from top to bottom and finishing the chores that you conveniently forgot last night. Neither of you is leaving until this place is spotless.”

Robin found his voice then. “Ugh granny…”

Her eyes whipped toward him. “Robin Locksley, if the next thing to come out of your mouth is a complaint... I swear to god no one will ever find out what happened to you.”

Robin immediately shut up.

Granny gave them one last fiery look before heading back into the office. “Now get to work before I start banging pans,” she ordered.

Once she was out of sight, Regina let out a soft groan and tried to stand to her feet. She’d slept so awkwardly there was a crick in her neck and aches in her joint. Robin climbed out after her moaning in pain when the sunlight shot in his eyes.

She turned to him and shrugged her shoulders. “Hey… Merry Christmas Eve,” she whispered under her breath.

A smile tugged on Robin’s lips. “Merry Christmas Eve,” he repeated, just as softly.

Groaning he took a seat at one of the counter stools and stretched his back. Looking down at the counter, he squinted when he saw how dirty it was. “Are these… boot marks?”

Regina took a look and frowned. “Yeah… I’m pretty sure we danced up there last night.”

The two of them shared a look and bursted into a small, soft fit of laughter as they started to remember the night before. It felt good to get back in sync.

Sneaking a quick look around the corner to make sure Granny wasn’t coming, Regina gestured for Robin to follow her over to the coat rack. Digging into her coat pocket she pulled out a small festive envelope with his name on it.

Passing it over to him, she shrugged. “I lied. I didn’t forget your gift.”

A grin appeared on his face as he took it from her and immediately ripped it open. Inside was a train ticket from Storybrooke Station to Grand Central in New York.

“I hear New Year’s Eve in the city is magical. What do you say, Locksley?” She smiled at him. “Up for an adventure?”

#once upon an advent #oq #outlaw queen #oqff #oq ff #regina mills #robin hood #sunny side up #young oq #young regina

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ourheroregina · 8 years ago

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Magical - OQ Advent Calendar

This is my entry for Outlaw Queen Advent Calendar 2017 (Day 4). A huge thanks to moonboymushroom on twitter who was a wonderful beta!

Thank you for reading and reviewing! And in case you want to read it again, here it is!

Taking a sip of red wine, Regina takes a look around the bar and a huge smile spreads across her face. She has never thought she would find herself living a life like she does now: she owns a bar in a small town, wears jeans and tank tops, drinks more than she should and happily communicates with the local people.

She’s never been fond of people, preferred to play alone as a child, always built walls around herself as she got older, refusing to let anyone in, to show who she really was. But that was a lifetime ago and now she’s enjoying the company of the people around her, raising glasses with them, wishing everyone a Happy New Year.

It must be the fact that she’s going to leave this place soon that made her let Lucy organize the town New Year Eve party in their bar. There’s no harm to have one last celebration with these people and then disappear from their lives as if she hasn’t even existed.

The people are cheerful tonight, talking and singing and dancing happily with one another, the atmosphere is light and festive, and surprisingly Regina realizes that she doesn’t mind all of this that much. Her mood is so good, she even talks with the most annoying person in this town – Marry Margaret.

However, when midnight approaches, Regina feels as though she’s suffocating around all these people. She excuses herself and walks to the quieter corner of the bar, stands in front of a huge window and rests her head against the wall, sighing.

The people behind her starts counting seconds and when they happily scream ‘one’, the sky erupts with wonderful colors and there are sounds of glasses being raised behind her and she raises her own glass, whispering a Happy New Year to the Heaven.

It’s her 100th New Year’s Eve.

She has never thought she would live this long (she was a rather melancholic kid, she proclaimed her desire to die young on many occasions) and here she is now, after having survived two World Wars, giving birth to a child in the middle of a field all by herself, protecting him with everything she has during the darkest times and watching her husband die on the front… Yet she’s still alive, looking as young as the day her life was ruined.

The story is rather complicated and unreal. It all started when her husband had died and her mother took her son away from Regina. She was devastated and her melancholic soul had only one option.

She jumped from the bridge that night, ready to die.

Instead, she was found by the British army soldiers who got her from the water and used as an experimental material for the new device they’d created. She had been electrocuted for too many times to count, she lost all of her senses and everything. She lost her memories of who she is, of how she ended up there.

One day when Regina thought she would really die, they surprised her by letting her go. They’ve claim that their new weapon was not a success, the power in there was not enough to kill a human being, and that they don’t want here there anymore.

Regina spent a few months in a hospital after that, healed her wounds and collected her broken pieces, put her thoughts back under control and tried to move on.

Somehow.

She got Henry back when her mother was killed by some soldiers. As horrible as it sounds, she’ll be forever thankful to those awful men who had been kind enough and didn’t harm her boy. She ran away then, hid in a small town called Hyperion Heights where no one knew her, where no one could find her and, she hoped, hurt her.

However, fifteen years later she had come to a realization that during the time she spent there, she hasn’t aged. She didn’t think much about it, she had other problems with Henry growing up and attending school and then getting ready for college and then meeting Jacinda. But one day, Henry pointed out that something is wrong.

Regina tried not to think about it.

However, people in the town started gossiping about her. She didn’t bother about these awful women talking that she was using some illegal products to stay this young, she wasn’t hurt by the way they all looked at her, as if she was some kind of a monster.

But when one day a police officer named Graham visited her, inviting her to the police station, she realized that something was wrong indeed. They accused her of faking her identity and she was told that she’ll be arrested.

Regina could easily prove that she was actually Regina Mills, but then she risked being locked up for different reasons while scientists tried to figure out what made her stay young. And it was the last thing she wanted.

So she took her things and ran away.

And she still runs. Every ten years, on the 1st of February, on her birthday, she takes all of her things, changes her identity and starts living a new life.

This February will be the tenth.

Swallowing over the lump in her throat, Regina takes another sip of the wine and tries to breathe steadily, to keep herself under control.

On February she’s leaving Storybrooke. And as much as she loathed this town on her first year, she grew to love it. Most importantly, Henry lives here and so do his family and she can see them every day. She formed a strong bond with Lucy and now the younger woman is not just her granddaughter, but her best friend.

Regina must admit that she even started to like people of this town, not all of them, but there are some faces she’s really going to miss.

If only she could stay…

“Happy New Year, milady.”

She’s startled by a greeting and she doesn’t even have to turn around to see who it is, she already knows, would recognize this accent anywhere. It’s the same mysterious man who visits her bar once a week but she meets him in her dreams more often.

A few months ago he entered her bar for the first time. She’s never seen him before, but he seemed to be quite nice (he left good tips) and harmless. From that day, he comes to her bar every week on Mondays, with a book in his hands. He orders a glass of whiskey and reads.

Regina thinks he’s crazy. Who reads in a bar? Of course, people like to read in cafes, but bars? He doesn’t seem to mind all the noise, though. He just sits there quietly, not talking to anyone, just reading.

She cannot say that she minds. She rather likes this man, as stupid as it sounds. She’ll never act on her feelings but he seems kind and awfully handsome. Whenever his blue eyes met her brown ones, she feels things that she hasn’t felt in a really long time.

It’s good to have someone to fantasize about when you’re sad and lonely.

“Happy New Year,” Regina says back, looking over her shoulder and smiles before turning back to the window.

“The view is breathtaking,” he points out as he takes a step closer to Regina, and she can see from the corner of her eye that he’s not looking at the sky, he’s staring at her.

“Indeed,” she agrees and takes another sip of her drink.

They stand there in silence, and Regina cannot remember the last time when she felt like this with someone. If she wasn’t leaving next month, she would start a conversation with him, try to find some kind of connection and get to know him.

But she is leaving. Her life is not that easy that she could fall in love with a mysterious man from her bar and have a romance. So she doesn’t dream about it, she just continues to gaze at the wonderful sky. The fireworks are dying down already, and she feels that she should get going, she shouldn’t stay here with him for too long.

Just when she turns to leave, he says, “I’m Robin.”

Regina stops and looks over her shoulder to find these blue eyes staring at her, wide with curiosity as he extends a hand towards her in greeting.

She almost tells him that she’s Regina. Almost. Yet she catches herself just on time, and instead shakes his hand, saying, “I’m Roni.”

“Nice to meet you, Roni,” he smiles and squeezes her hand lightly and Regina smiles in return before she turns around and walks back to the bar to the crowd of people she grew to like.

(…)

Continue reading on ff.net - https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12764941/1/Magical

#outlaw queen #oq ff #my writing #outlaw queen fanfiction #once upon an advent #once upon an advent 2017

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believingispowerfulmagic · 7 months ago

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Fic Advent Calendar - Day 3: "Christmas Songs"

"All I want for Christmas is yooooooooou!"

Robin stopped on the stairs, tilting his head as he tried to determine where the music and singing came from. After a few beats, he believed it was the kitchen and he finished going downstairs. He walked through the dining room and into the kitchen, stopping short to take in the scene in front of him.

Still dressed in her pajamas, Regina danced around the kitchen while singing along to the radio. Every time she sang the word "you" she gently tapped Margot's nose as the baby girl rested in her carrier. Margot then smiled, staring up at Regina with love and light in her eyes - mirroring how Regina looked at her.

It made Robin love her more.

That song ended and Regina tickled Margot's stomach. "Did you enjoy that one, sweetheart?" she asked, almost cooing.

"I think she did," Robin said, stepping forward. "I know I did."

"Robin!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening as her cheeks turned pink. "How much did you see?"

He chuckled as he placed his hand on the small of her back. "Enough."

Robin then leaned toward Margot, rubbing her foot. "It looks like you and Mama have been having fun without me," he said.

"Yes, we have," Regina said, leaning against him. "She likes music."

"I didn't know there was so many Christmas songs," he said, listening as the radio played another one.

She nodded. "They are very popular. Many artists put out Christmas albums and write Christmas songs. There's just something about the season."

"I can feel it," he said, gently gripping her hips. "And now I think it's time for someone to sing to you."

"Is that so?" she asked, smiling.

He nodded, leaning past her to address Margot. "You agree that Mama deserves a song and dance too, right?"

Margot wiggled in her seat and Robin chuckled. "She agrees."

"I guess I can't disappoint her," Regina said, taking Robin's hand and placing her other one on his shoulder as a slow song began. "I'm ready."

They started to sway to the song and after a few beats, Robin started to sing along with radio. "Presents and cards are here, my world is filled with cheer and you…"

She smiled softly as she rested her head on his shoulder. He continued to sing, finding every day proved that Christmas really was the best season.

#once upon a time #fic advent calendar #outlaw queen #oq ff #oq au

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onceuponanadvent · 8 years ago

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The wait is finally over and the countdown to our magical OQ love story this Christmas, starts today. Check out The Tavern to view the unlocked G I F T S for December 1st.

Many thanks to the incredibly talented @simplymaterial and @the-alpha-incipiens for today’s wonderful contributions!

Alternatively use the links below: Direct Link The Forest Contact Us

#outlaw queen #regina mills #robin hood #oq edit #ouat #oq #oq fic #outlaw queen advent calendar #oq advent #robin x regina #oq advent 2017 #robin/regina #JOQLLY

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ninzied · 6 years ago

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christmas rose [for oq advent]

In the weeks leading up to her first Christmas without Henry, someone starts to leave Regina a small gift each day, marking her very own advent. Missing Year. Written for @onceuponanadvent. Many thanks to @loveexpelrevolt for the idea and all the gift brainstorming. ffn | ao3 | advent site

It was shaping up to be a pretty dismal winter, here in the Enchanted Forest.

Autumn had breezed by without much of its usual fuss – the leaves had still changed, but the pumpkins had not made a great showing this year, and besides that castle morale had reached an exceptional low. All Hallows’ Eve had been a muted affair, and by the time Thanksgiving came around, even Snow White couldn’t muster the strength to explain what pilgrims were or why they deserved celebration.

Not that Regina complained.

She was in fact perfectly content with the lack of fanfare, and kept to herself on the holidays without much objection from Snow, quietly missing her Henry and hoping that somewhere, worlds away from this one, he was not missing a thing.

Regina emerged from her quarters only when needed; she strongly suspected that Snow would make a scene if she missed any mealtimes, and apart from that there were more general matters of upkeep to tend to, witchly plotting to thwart, and the occasional date with a boy on the hunt for some new books in her library.

But as the air thinned to below-freezing temperatures, her mood seemed to plummet along with it – not on account of the cold, but the spirited fervor it seemed to revive in just about everyone else. The thief and his Merry Men were certainly living up to their name; they’d made themselves quite comfortable here in her castle, and when Snow snapped out of her own doom-and-gloom to suggest a midwinter ball of all things, they were the first to chime in their agreement.

“What do you say, Regina?” Snow rounded on her with a beaming expression, trapping her there as everyone else did the same.

Well, everyone minus the thief, that is, who had an ear bent toward Leroy right next to him. They were whispering cheerfully – snippets of “Hey, I’ve got the beard” and “My boy would adore that” filtering over – and the fire that had been building inside of Regina was abruptly snuffed out.

“It sounds like it’s already been decided,” she said rather stiffly, and then, before Snow’s smile could grow even terribly wider, she leaned to cut in, “Do enjoy your little party.”

The whispering stopped, to her grim satisfaction, and she swept from the table, half-waiting to hear someone protest before stalking her way toward the door.

She could feel their eyes on her – how freely they looked, now that she had her back turned – and she told herself not to regret it, one bit, as she let the door slam shut behind her.

…

The preparations were already well underway the following morning, the entire castle coming alive with the thought of a break from routine. Even her presence did little to discourage their good mood, and she soon began to think rather bitterly back to a time when a well-placed glare would be enough to send a man scurrying the other direction. Now, as it was, even the dwarves had grown fearless, practically tripping over her in their rush to festoon every bare inch of wall, until she finally threatened to step on one of them.

Still, brightly glinting baubles managed to find their way up to the darkmost ceilings of her castle, green things sprouting up everywhere she turned until she thought they may as well be living in the damn forest itself.

She burned incense regularly, smoking up the hallways and alarming passersby, but try as she might, she could not get rid of that smell of pine.

And she didn’t have to look far to know who to blame.

Every morning like clockwork, the thief Robin Hood would come strolling indoors with a fresh haul of boughs or split logs for the fire, the occasional dusting of snow on his cloak. His men were never far behind him, traipsing inside and dragging their filth around her foyer as she stood disapprovingly off to one side.

“What a magnificent tree, don’t you think?” Snow said beside her one morning, as if one stupid tree could really look all that different. Before Regina could point out as out as much, Snow carried on, her gaze still trained on the thief, “You have such a good eye, my friend!”

“Your Highness,” he grinned, in a way that made Regina feel strangely irate. “I did have my orders, after all.”

“She has you earning your keep, then, I take it?” questioned Regina, and Snow turned to stare at her, looking faintly mortified.

“Your Majesty,” said the thief, with a slight bow of his head. His smile seemed to lose a bit of its brightness, though he sounded friendly enough as he told her, “My men and I prefer to make ourselves useful.”

“Then perhaps you could start now,” she returned, “by learning to close the door on your way back out? You’re letting in a draft.”

The thief opened his mouth to respond, but she gave a wave of her hand to dismiss him, already half-turning to be on her way.

“She appears to be fond of making these exits,” she overheard the thief saying, and then Snow rushing to make her apologies, as Regina strode off with her hands clasped tightly together.

…

As the days got progressively shorter and darker, the castle only seemed to grow bigger and brighter, as though it had awoken from a deep slumber. Regina hardly recognized parts of it anymore, and so took to her more private haunts, the ones that hadn’t yet been discovered by some nosy thief and then strung up with garland and bows.

It was during one of these walks, in a small wraparound garden overlooking the forest below, that she found the first gift – at least, she assumed it was intended as such. There on a round marble stand, half-tucked away by some overgrown vines, sat a pair of thick woolen mittens. They were a muted taupe color, but when Regina bent closer, she could see thin threads of purple woven delicately into the yarn.

For a moment she thought they must have been dropped here by Snow, lying forgotten while the Princess went trolling about where she was not welcome. But there was something about the way they were folded, one angled primly on top of the other, that looked altogether too, well, arranged to have been left there by accident.

This somehow infuriated Regina even more than the thought of Snow simply nosing around without any purpose at all, and she promptly flung the mittens back down, vowing to make that the last word on the matter.

If Snow White thought she could shame her for how she’d behaved around Robin that day, well, then Regina was more than ready to show her just how recalcitrant she could be.

The opportunity presented itself even sooner than she’d expected as she thought to stroll past the front doors, where Snow – bundled up in thick furs and a matching hand muff – was greeting the men just returned from a hunt.

“Oh, you boys, I can’t wait to tell Granny!” Snow was exclaiming as Regina made to approach them. “I know just the thing that will go with the rabbit stew we’re having tonight, thanks to all of you.”

Regina noted, with an almost absurd satisfaction, that the thief had hung slightly back from the others, nudging the door closed and fastening all of the locks into place.

“Oh, Regina,” Snow turned on her next, mildly scolding as she took in Regina’s bare hands, her neck exposed to the elements. “You must be freezing.” She gave her a too-knowing look, and received only a bland sort of smile in return.

“Not at all.”

The thief had ambled over to them, nodding toward Regina when she deigned to look in his direction. “Your Majesty,” he greeted her warmly, as if he might think that he’d finally caught her in the right mood. “I hope you find everything is to your liking.”

“It will have to do,” she replied, then added an offhand, “I suppose that roast boar would have been far too much trouble,” earning another grave look from Snow.

“Rabbit happens to be Roland’s favorite,” the thief told her pleasantly, not missing a beat. “But I’ll keep your suggestions in mind the next time we’ve gone out.”

“Well I, for one, think it’s finally starting to feel something like Christmas,” declared Snow, removing a hand from her muff and linking it around Robin’s arm. She pulled him forward, and he went along with a smile, patting an affectionate hand over hers as she called back over her shoulder, “See you at dinner, Regina.”

The two of them walked on without so much as another glance, leaving Regina to fume silently behind them and wonder how she could have possibly been so lucky as to be stuck with them both.

…

It was another several days before Regina thought to venture back up to that balcony garden. She’d half-expected the mittens to have made a quiet exit, leaving no trace that they’d ever been there. This is what she told herself, at least; the truth was that she didn’t know what she expected at all, or why she even bothered except for some darkly unshakable impulse to find out.

The mittens were indeed where she’d left them, but they were not alone this time. A small assortment of things had squeezed their way onto the table, and Regina could only stand there a moment, too taken aback to know where to look first.

She finally picked up what looked to be a candle, resting beside one of the mittens. It was small and squat, and a bit roughly shaped overall, but finely carved around the sides, with a trellis of ivy and bluebells that bore a striking resemblance to the very garden she stood in.

None of this made any sense, thought Regina. She knew Snow must have picked up some hobbies, during her banditry days, but this…

This felt like something else, and when she touched her nose to the tip of the candle, and breathed in the scent of spices and pine, her heart did a strange little knock in her chest.

Her hand moved with a will of its own, touching a dark lump of some soft material that had been rolled up and placed just next to the candle. Slowly, she let it unravel, trailing her fingers down each side as it opened, the butter-smooth leather on one, silky white rabbit fur on the other.

On either end of the pelt, a knobby little button and a loop of beige leather had been sewn into place. Fastened together, it would have warmed her neck perfectly.

She dropped her hand away.

Feeling peculiar, Regina took a step back and glanced all around her, as if the bearer of these small offerings might have thought to linger until she arrived. She stared hard into the growing twilight, but not even her garden had stirred while she’d been here, and she knew that she was alone.

There was something else – something feathery and dark near her feet that she must have brushed aside in her study of the rabbit fur, but this was all too much, these…things that she’d neither asked for nor wanted, and she jerked away like it had burned her.

Regina descended the stairs, spiraling down toward the main halls of the castle. There would be gathering of sorts in the drawing room by now, where people tended to go for a drink in the evenings, and she veered a sharp right, meaning to give it as wide a berth as she could.

Before she’d reached the end of the corridor, she heard the door open, and a distant but unmistakable voice calling out over the din of the room, “I’ll grab the next round – do try to hold it together while I’m gone, yeah?”

Something froze Regina in place, and she turned to look back before she could help it. The thief had shut the door behind him and was heading in her direction now, gaze still lowered while he chuckled to himself.

She noticed the moment he sensed her, the alertness gripping his body before his eyes lifted to hers, surprise overtaking his features as he slowed to a stop some feet in front of her.

“Your Majesty,” he said, recovering the next second, and perhaps it was the ease with which he smiled at her now, or that he’d no doubt been on his way to her wine cellar, but the confusion she’d been battling with quickly submitted to ire.

“What do you want?” she asked brusquely, as if he hadn’t been the one to find her just standing there waiting for something.

He seemed to tense ever so slightly before relaxing again, though there was a hint of dryness to his tone when he shrugged and replied, “I was about to ask if you’d like to join us, but I suppose you’ve already given your answer.”

Regina found she couldn’t look him in the eye anymore, all that blue in the candlelight, in this hallway that suddenly felt ten sizes too small. “I have a spell to work on,” she told him thinly, examining her arm for stray bits of lint.

“Ah,” he said, looking far more understanding than he had any right to with her. “Yes, Belle had mentioned—”

“How nice,” Regina cut in, but it lacked any of her usual bite, sounding flat as it devolved into silence, and why was he still smiling at her? “If you’ll excuse me…”

She turned to go, but didn’t hear his own footsteps resume like she’d expected, and she could feel his eyes on her still, her whole body stiffening as if that could keep him from seeing things she didn’t want him to see.

He was proving to be quite resourceful, this thief of Locksley.

Finally, he called after her, “I don’t believe that was a no, Your Majesty.”

Regina half-turned her head over her shoulder, startled. “What?”

“To a drink.” She could hear the smile in his voice growing wider. “Tomorrow, perhaps?”

She’d paused too long to effectively discourage this new line of questioning, and they both knew it, though Regina refused to give him the full satisfaction of seeing it written all over her face. “Good night, thief,” she said curtly, gathering her skirts with a flourish and trying not to think about how she’d never noticed the way his eyes crinkled to look at her before.

…

It was needless and entirely foolish of her, but the following day she couldn’t escape the thought of that now not-so-secret garden in her balcony, and what else she might come across if she just so happened to find herself up there again.

But Regina couldn’t risk anyone seeing where she was headed, so she opted to travel by magic this time, purple smoke carrying her straight there from her chambers. She was reaching for the latch on the door when she felt an odd fluttering in her chest, like something trying to break loose and take flight, and she was so struck by the absurdity of it that she almost poofed right back to her bedroom.

It turned out that she needn’t have concerned herself with being this careful – it didn’t appear that anyone else had been here since she had, everything looking untouched, the table just as she’d left it. The item she’d dropped the night before was some kind of quill, she thought, glancing over, trying to ignore how it looked slightly bent in the middle. She should at least put it back where it belonged…

But the longer Regina stood there the more ridiculous she felt, and it was such an unwelcome feeling to her that she walked briskly to the opposite end of her garden, snatched up a handful of calla lilies as if that was why she’d come here all along, and marched with purpose back through the door.

The ridiculous feeling refused to abate even after she’d gone, and with it grew a bizarre paranoia, everything seeming to catch her off guard. Gripping her lilies, she rounded a corner only to double back several steps when she heard someone approaching on the other side.

She blew out an exasperated sigh.

“Oh, aren’t those just lovely!” said Snow as she walked up to her. “I haven’t seen them growing around here in ages – where did you—” and Regina promptly deposited them into Snow’s arms with what she hoped would pass for a smile.

“I thought you might like them,” Regina said tersely. “A little pick-me-up while you handle your…burdens,” and she made a vague gesture at Snow’s pregnant belly.

The Princess looked genuinely touched, nose buried deep in her lilies, and Regina went on her way feeling somehow more irritated than ever.

To her absolute horror, Snow had arranged them as the centerpiece of their royal table that night at dinner, proudly announcing to anyone within earshot that Regina had selected them just for her.

There was only one other person who knew where the lilies had chosen to bloom that year.

But if the thief noticed (oh, who was she kidding?), he made no indication of it, his attention never straying from his own table.

His son was in the middle of telling some story, arms flapping wildly about as he stood on the bench and made as if to leap into flight. The thief was gazing warmly at him, dimples on full display, laughing outright when Roland gave a little jump and landed dramatically into his arms.

Regina forced her eyes away when Snow passed a full plate of food over to her, the scent of roast meat in the air.

She glanced down.

“Wow,” she heard Charming from two seats away, already slicing into his portion with gusto. “I can’t remember the last time we had wild boar. This is fantastic.”

It was a mistake to look back up. Her eyes met the thief’s across the hall, just as he was taking a sip from his goblet. He didn’t appear smug, or smirk at her like she’d expected him to as he raised his drink in her direction. The smile he gave her this time was a bit crooked, a bit shy, and she didn’t know what to do with him like this – or what to do with herself, for that matter – and so she could only look away again.

Regina stole from dinner early, before the plates had even cleared, with a hasty excuse to Snow about needing to follow up on some things in the library.

It was not exactly a lie; she’d hit a dead end in her spell books after exhausting her last stash of hellebore, but as Belle liked to say, there was always room for more learning. They’d been taking turns reading whatever they could about Oz in the meantime, and tonight in particular suddenly felt like the perfect moment to do so.

Belle herself was just returning from the washroom when Regina slipped out of the banquet hall.

“Off to the library?” she asked knowingly. “I’ll come join you soon.”

Regina waved her off. “There’s no sense in both of us letting a good evening go to waste.” She cleared her throat, hating how very transparent she sounded as she added a curt, “You should go have a drink with the others.”

“Are you sure?” Belle’s forehead creased at her. “Did you want to come? We could both use a break, I’m sure.”

Regina thought of a hearth draped in pine, warm cider, warm other things, and realized that she’d already made up her mind.

“You go,” she told Belle. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

…

She never knew what to expect anymore, as far as the thief was concerned.

But she had braced herself for whatever remarks he would make about her absence the previous evening, and so when they crossed paths around lunchtime, she turned on him, ready.

“Hullo,” he said cheerfully, no more than that, not even a customary nod to her title, and she was so thrown by the change that he’d already moved past her before it occurred to her that she hadn’t said anything at all.

She had destroyed men for much less.

But there was something about him that made her feel strangely unlike herself, and as he walked on there was another twinge in her chest, like he’d tethered her to him somehow, and this…this, she supposed, was a different kind of ruin.

By the time she arrived at the garden, the sun had already begun its descent, casting a welcome glow in the chill. She wandered toward the balcony rail for a moment, musing over the idea of him scaling up walls and firing arrows through open windows, swinging himself from ledge to ledge. It would have pleased him to know this, she thought, when he’d probably just taken the stairs.

He’d folded the neck warmer back up since she’d been here last, the tip of the quill now nestled safely inside the fur. Regina hesitated a split second before carefully pulling it out, examining the way that it bent at an unnatural angle, a flicker of shame running deeper than she would’ve cared to admit.

It was beautiful, the feather he’d chosen – a rich swirl of deep blues and greens, with a hint of purple down the middle, tapering down to a nicely shaped point. Magic pooled instinctively to her fingertips, and she itched to set it straight again, but that somehow felt wrong to her, almost offensive to try.

She curled her hand around the quill, pressing it gently over her chest as she turned to go.

Her breath caught when she saw it.

There by the doorway, ensconced in a bed of thick ivy, sat a small plant that couldn’t have grown there, with leathery leaves and blooming rose-like white petals, their edges tinged in pink. Thin black roots sprang out from a fresh clump of soil, clinging to the nearby stems of ivy.

Hellebore.

Regina had to refrain from rushing over too quickly, as if sudden movement might break the illusion, or cause the plant to go into hiding. It was not the same species her spell books typically called for – those were of a deeper hue, maroon or even darker – and this pleased her, that she had an excuse to simply let them grow.

She used her magic this time, gingerly extracting the roots and potting them into a warmed handful of air. The flowers seemed to wave at her in the breeze, the pink in them flushing prettily when she touched her finger to the petals.

She knew the perfect place for it, in her bedchambers, and she swept down the stairs with her new plant bobbing gently through the air in front of her.

A curious warmth had settled into her body, but she chose not to question it any longer, hardly even caring that someone might spot her absconding with such a lovely thing.

—but no, she told herself firmly, one couldn’t steal what one had been given, and this was quite possibly the most thoughtful gift she’d ever received.

…

He seemed to know her and her preferences so well, and up until now he had never been far from view either, so long as it inconvenienced her in some way; but once Regina determined that she wanted to be found for a change, he proved to be just as elusive as his fairy tale reputation implied.

As far as she could tell, he paid his visits to their garden at an arbitrary time each day. If he did this to avoid any run-in with her, he was more than successful, and short of installing some magical sensor she doubted she could catch him there.

At mealtimes, he was either with Roland or the rest of his men, and she could not figure out how to approach him this way; whatever this was between them felt too new and uncertain, like the smallest thing might break it before it had even begun.

Meanwhile, he didn’t stop leaving her gifts here and there – medicinal herbs, some other ingredients she’d run low on (Belle must have been feeding him intel, she thought), a handful of apples he’d somehow procured when even her tree had stopped bearing fruit for the season.

She accepted his offerings in secret, though never more than a few at a time. The rabbit fur warmer came with her last, and she tried it on once in front of her mirror, sighing into its warmth for one indulgent moment before tucking it into a drawer with the mittens.

Each time she saw him it was as though she’d never truly seen him until then, the way he bit his lip sometimes when he smiled, a new sound his laugh made, how blue his eyes looked no matter the lighting.

In her distraction, she’d let Snow rope her into supervising the last of their preparations for winter solstice, a towering fir that was to go in the middle of the ballroom. It had taken all the thief’s men to haul it inside, though not without several missteps that might have ended badly for them, had Regina not intervened with a few discreet waves of her hand.

She was still glowering when the thief ambled by.

“Your Majesty,” he said with a perfectly straight face, clearly making an effort not to worsen her mood.

“Thief,” she returned, heart thundering madly. Everyone else was still happily preoccupied, carting in things for the tree, and this was perhaps the only chance she would have to get him alone before the ball.

He saw her gaze sweep over the room and gave her a lopsided smile. “Excited for the festivities, I take it?”

Their eyes met. “I hadn’t planned on going,” she told him carefully, watching his face for a reaction.

He took a step closer.

“I see.” He looked gravely serious, like he wanted to say something more but hadn’t quite found the right words, and then John was calling for him, requesting his assistance on some matter regarding the tree.

Regina released the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, feeling the moment slip away.

But Robin seemed remiss to go, stalling another few seconds to simply gaze down at her, eyes warm and terribly endless, and she wondered what he saw in her, how he had never looked at her any other way.

“I should…” He cleared his throat, raising a placating hand in John’s direction, and then excused himself with a bow of his head. “Your Majesty,” he murmured, so low she wasn’t sure she hadn’t imagined it, but the words sank into her like a gentle caress, and nothing had ever made her feel this warm, so warm, before.

…

She could hear the music from the ballroom very distantly from her perch in the garden, the lively instrumentals, the rise and fall of Snow’s makeshift choir. The dancing would have begun by now, after that extravagant feast had time to settle.

Snow, thankfully, had been dragged away from dinner early to mediate a dispute between her two lead sopranos. Regina had snuck off without any trouble, Charming electing to look the other way as she passed him; and then, just for good measure, she’d sent a little spell over to Leroy, who was red-faced from too much mead and loudly insisting that Friar Tuck’s range made him more of an alto, really.

He erupted into a coughing fit, demanding in between breaths for a lozenge and a tall glass of water, and Regina was able to make her escape unnoticed.

Now, she sat at the very edge of a bench in her garden, hidden behind the flowering lilies, and she waited.

He hadn’t left her any gifts today, not that she’d expected him to. Snow had kept him busy all afternoon with last-minute details, and he had no reason not to attend the party himself, to drink hot chocolate with his boy and twirl him around in a dance while they caroled.

In another world, she thought, another boy would have told her that she deserved happiness, too.

She didn’t hear him come in, but there was a change in the air, a sudden stillness to it that made her chest tighten as she glanced over and saw him.

He was standing by the round stone table, where two empty glass tumblers awaited, an unopened bottle of whiskey beside them.

Regina stood. “You came.”

“Milady.” He lifted his gaze to hers, and the look in his eyes nearly took her breath away. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He smiled at her as she came over to him, shyness or something like it making her feel as though they were both in slow motion. “I apologize that I couldn’t make it sooner; Roland was a bit resistant toward his usual bedtime.”

“With good reason, of course,” she said.

“Indeed.” He gestured back toward the table, voice going soft. “What’s all this?”

“I…believe I owed you a drink.”

His smile spread, dimples deepening at her. “That you did. May I?” He reached past her, brushing their arms together as he picked up the bottle and pulled out its stopper. He worked slowly, intently, and she tried not to breathe in too deeply when he leaned back to hand her a glass. “Cheers.”

She clinked her glass with his, but neither of them drank. It was hard to get her body to cooperate at all, not with him standing this close to her.

“Speaking of which, Roland quite enjoyed his chocolate beverage.”

Regina swallowed around a sudden lump in her throat. “I’m glad.”

“The, uh, cinnamon. It was a nice touch.”

She blinked and had to look away for a moment. “An old family recipe.” Her voice tried to crack, eyes burning, but then everything seemed to right itself again, feeling uncommonly steady, and she realized he’d set their glasses back down and taken her hands into his.

“Your hands are like ice,” he murmured, closing his more firmly around them. She almost shivered into the warmth, thinking that she hadn’t known to mind the cold until now. “So – just to be clear—” and there was a teasing glint to his tone this time, “Of all the gifts you thought to claim first, you chose a weed—”

“It’s not a weed.”

“—and a broken quill.”

“It writes perfectly well,” she told him.

“I could mend it for you.” He rested their hands to his chest, coaxing her forward just slightly. She was much too warm now to even think about how she’d ever stood for anything less. “Or make you a new one.”

Regina curled her fingers into his tunic, offering a demure, “I suppose I wouldn’t say no,” feeling the way his chest rumbled with laughter.

“Have you tried the candle yet?”

She shook her head. It had seemed a waste, to let it burn.

“Well,” he said, shifting over her a little, “should you ever choose to light it, you may find it has an interesting way of masking its own scent, and that of its surroundings. Quite handy when you’re on the run…or perhaps tired of your castle smelling like it’s gone a bit wild.”

Regina straightened and said, very primly, “I don’t know what gave you the impression that I would ever want a candle like that.”

He released her hand for a moment, brushing back a lock of her hair. His touch lingered, and she leaned into his palm, feeling dizzy and so unbearably light.

“So what did you bring me today, thief?”

“Well, since you’ve been averse to wearing the things that I made you…” He grinned, and she couldn’t help it, reaching up to rest her fingers on his jawline, learning the feel his stubble, the way his dimples moved when he bit his lower lip at her. “I thought I might try to find some new way of keeping you warm.”

She wanted to tell him that he already had, but instead she stretched onto her toes, and she kissed him.

It was brief but full of promise, and she rocked back onto her heels, feeling breathless. His lips were parted, gaze heavy with want when she opened her eyes, and all she could do was sigh into him as he gathered her up and kissed her again.

His hand moved through her hair, cupping the back of her neck and angling her closer. His mouth was warm and inviting, moving together with hers in a tangle of heat and tongue. She stretched her body up against his, feeling his weight, his warmth, his arms closing around her and holding her to him.

Everything tingled, where they pressed together, and she was more than lightheaded when they parted again, his forehead coming to rest against hers as they breathed each other in. But her hands would not still, wanting to touch him, to wander up his chest and his shoulders, finally reaching the sides of his neck. He nudged the tip of his nose to her cheek, the world slowing again, and she stole another kiss from him, softer this time, lips parting and brushing back and forth without fully settling back together.

His arms around her tightened, a kiss finding its way to her temple as he rasped into her ear, “I ought to head back soon, in case he wakes up.”

“Mm.” She didn’t trust herself to speak quite yet, her whole body still alight with the need to kiss him like she might not get the chance to tomorrow.

“Could I perhaps…” he leaned back with a mischievous quirk of his eyebrows, looking quite boyish as he asked her, “accompany you on the walk to your room, milady?”

She couldn’t hide her surprise even if she’d wanted to. “I’m not stopping you,” she said, watching the way his everything seemed to transform in the warmth of his smile, and she marveled that this was all for her, that this was what he wanted too, and oh if this feeling didn’t destroy her, she knew it was certainly going to try.

He pressed one last kiss to her lips and released her, wrapping an arm around her waist as they walked.

“We’ll have to come back for that drink,” he said, and Regina turned into him, touching her hand to his chest for a moment.

“Tomorrow sounds good to me.”

He tugged her back in, both of them smiling into the kiss now, and at this rate, if it took them all night to make it where they were going, she would not mind it at all.

…

“How was the rest of your night, Regina?”

She almost choked on her eggs, taking a liberal swallow of coffee before she was able to get any words out. “Excuse me?”

“I didn’t see you at the ball,” said Snow. “I hope you were feeling all right.”

“Just fine,” Regina told her firmly. “I’d told you I wasn’t going to go.” She tried not to let her gaze wander too obviously toward a certain table in the back, focusing instead on spearing up another bite of potato.

“I know, but…” Snow’s tone dropped to something suspiciously covert. “I thought maybe someone would have convinced you to change your mind.”

Horrified, Regina nearly dropped her fork before deciding altogether it was too dangerous to try eating anymore, with Snow so determined to keep talking to her. She took a measured sip of her coffee, and said as flatly as she could manage, “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Snow seemed willing to drop it for the time being, and Regina let herself relax into her coffee again, stealing another glance between sips. Robin looked just as focused on his own breakfast, but she caught him smiling to himself on more than one occasion, and she couldn’t help but look shyly away each time she felt his gaze flick over to her again.

She touched her hair without thinking, curling the ends behind her ear, fingertips grazing the fur at her neck.

“That scarf looks warm,” Snow remarked, something intentional about the bland way she said it.

Regina almost took her hand away, but she pushed back the instinct, toying with the Christmas rose she’d pinned to its side that morning. “It is.”

“That’s wonderful,” said Snow.

Their eyes met for a moment, and for the first time that winter, Regina felt, truly, that wonderful was just the beginning.

#outlaw queen #oq ff #oq fic #missing year #oq advent 2018 #my scribbles

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