HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE!

Hope everyone had a great time welcoming in 2015 and that all your wishes for the new year come true.

Ok so here we are, Titanic! Now, some housekeeping before we begin this little adventure.

This story will be a little different than my previous multi-chapter fic in that I'll be posting one chapter in Regina's point of view and one in Robin's, so that we vary a little bit here and there. The only exception (so far, anyway) is this very first chapter because I wanted to introduce you to both characters, so we get half in Regina's point of view and half in Robin's. There will be about 15 chapters, give or take, and the length of those chapters will vary a bit, since I'm going by events and not by word count. Anyway here we go! Hope you like it!

Vapor rises heavily from the huge, orange chimneys, adding big white clouds to the otherwise clear sky. It does nothing to mar the crisp morning air, though, simply making it all the more beautiful as the sun shines its bright light through the billows of steam.

Regina stands there, mesmerized at the sight before her, taking off her lavish hat and staring wide-eyed at the ship she's going to board. It is beautiful, stunning even. A stunning prison that she is about to enter.

"Regina, stop slouching," comes a stern voice from behind her, and she turns to find her mother peeking her dignified head out of the car, a young boy scrambling to gather their many bags while Leopold offers a hand to Cora to help her down. She notices Sidney, Leopold's lackey –for lack of a better word- is standing close by, leering at her as always.

"Sorry, mother," Regina replies, turning back to stare at the ship some more, trying to will away the chills that Sidney's eyes on her have caused.

"Are you impressed by the ship, my dear?" Leopold's saccharine voice interrupts her next, and then his hand is on her waist, and her skin begins to crawl.

"It's gorgeous."

"Not nearly as grand as the Mauretania, if you ask me, but it'll do," Cora scoffs as she begins to walk up the ramp that connects the ship with the pier, a sharply dressed crew member welcoming them with well-practiced formalities. Regina starts to make her way to the entrance once the other two have gone through, straightening her white coat and readjusting her hat. It would not go over well with mother if she looked anything but pristine during this entire journey, so they had spent the last of their money on clothes that would help them keep this charade of being wealthy socialites, so as not to alert anyone to the fact that Henry Mills had died on a pile of empty bank accounts and left his wife and daughter on the street. But all that would change soon, mother had promised months ago, because Leopold Blanchard was very interested in Regina, and if she were to marry into that family, all their problems would be solved.

The whole thing had worked out perfectly, and when Leopold had finally proposed to her, Cora had been so enthused that she'd accepted the proposal before Regina could even blink, and then she'd hugged her, whispered how happy she was, and Regina had wondered if this was what it felt like to make your mother proud, as she'd never been granted so much as an honest smile from the woman who was supposed to nurture and support her throughout her life.

So here they are, about to embark on the voyage of a lifetime, heading back to the country she'd been born in but never seen after her father moved them to England when she was five, back to America, to start a new and very wealthy life with her future husband.

It would seem a dream come true, especially when you got to embark on this journey as a first class passenger on a ship like the Titanic, but there was one problem with it all. And it was that Regina absolutely hated every bit of it.

She felt guilty at times, for wanting something different, for not appreciating all the comforts she'd been given and the many more she would have once she married Leopold, but she couldn't help it, she wanted more than this, more than a controlling mother using her to regain social status and money, more than a fiancé who was twenty years older than her and far too sleazy for her liking, more than a life that had been chosen for her since before she could walk.

"Are you just going to stand there all day or are you joining us, dearest?" Leopold asks her, his tone pleasant and amused, no hint of the annoyance underneath, but she's gotten good at reading him, and knows he is losing his patience.

Wordlessly, she walks onto the ship, looking down at her feet the entire time so she can avoid his poignant stare as he moves behind her, no doubt devouring her with his eyes the way he always does when he thinks she won't notice. It's uncomfortable, annoying, and downright disrespectful, but when she'd talked to her mother about it, Cora had laughed, told her she'd get used to it once they married, that he might even stop doing it if she learned how to please him, because then he wouldn't have to fantasize about her being good in bed (the twisted fact that Leopold and Cora would sit and discuss how good or bad Regina was at sex made her want to vomit), he could just have her and put his attention someplace else after. Doesn't married life sound just darling?

Her rooms are -thankfully- her own, no sharing with either of them, though Cora's are right next to hers, no doubt as a way to keep an eye on her so that she won't run or make any rash decisions that could cost her the engagement. But Cora has neglected to know one thing: Regina doesn't really want to run anymore. No, she wants to end it all, and she has a plan.

Robin looks at his cards, chancing a glance at John as he sits on the other end of the table, biting his nails nervously as the game progresses. Roland, Robin's dashing little boy, is perched on John's hip.

There are coins on the middle of the table, some jewels, a few bills and, more importantly, three pieces of thick, fancy paper that would mean the trip of a lifetime to whoever plays their cards right. It's a tense moment, because one of the big, burly and very dangerous-looking men Robin is playing against has just laid down a very good hand. So good, in fact, that the others at the table fold almost instantly.

"So?" John asks, and Robin takes his eyes out of the intense stare-down he'd been waging against his opponent to look at his friend.

"I must apologize, John," he says.

"No!" the man gasps, "all our savings, Robin! All of it! How could you?! How coul—"

"I must apologize," Robin goes on, speaking over him, "because you're going to have to run extremely fast in the next thirty seconds if you want to make it to the ship before it leaves port, and I know how you hate to run."

"What?!" John is confused for a moment, but as Robin lays his cards down on the table, a loud cheer escapes him.

"Full house, boys!" Robin shouts, laughing as his contenders begin to growl and try to get him to play one more hand, but Robin is too busy collecting his reward to care about their protests. That is, until a pocket watch falls out of his coat pocket and onto the table.

"Hey, that's mine!" says one of the thugs that had been demanding a rematch, patting his pockets frantically, eyes widening when he realizes not just the watch, but his wallet is gone as well.

"Yes, and now it's mine," Robin grins, before he shouts at John to run and off they go, turning over chairs and stools behind them to stall the angry mob that is now chasing them.

He's breathing heavily when they arrive at the third class entrance to the ship, and suddenly Roland is out of John's arms and in his father's as the former tries to catch his breath.

"Can't just leave things alone, can ya?" John asks as he huffs out a laugh, and they hide behind a large cluster of bags as their hunters run by, making sure they're gone before popping up with their satchels and the spoils of their adventure, Roland clapping happily and giggling when he realizes they are in front of the big boat he'd been staring at all week.

"Papa, are we going on the boat?!" he asks excitedly.

"Yes, Roland, we're going to America. You, me, and Uncle John, we're going to have a whole new life, and you're going to love it," he promises, beaming at his son's answering cheers.

"You're a hopeless idiot, you know that?" John says in amusement as they make their way to the ramp, shuffling into the line of people milling into the Titanic with the same aspirations as them.

"I prefer to think of it as hopeful," Robin quips, and John laughs again, pats his friend's back, and tickles Roland's chin. The crewmember at the door is stiff and snooty, as if welcoming third class people into this grand ship is beneath him, but Robin smiles at him brightly nonetheless, hoisting Roland a little bit further up his side and ducking their heads as they surrender their tickets and walk inside, marveling at the sheer size of the boat.

"Papa, will we be alright at sea?" Roland asks then, and Robin notices his son is a little worried now that he realizes they will be stuck in a big hulk of metal in the middle of the ocean for a week.

"Of course we will, my son! This is the best ship ever built, we're going to be just fine."

Better than fine, he thinks, because for the first time since he lost his Marian four years ago, he has hope. For the first time since his life turned upside down, something finally feels right.

The rooms are modest, with a small table by the door, next to the bunk bed that the three of them will share.

"I want top bunk!" Roland screams excitedly, and Robin chuckles at his son, nods his agreement and tells John to go ahead and take the bottom cot, laughing when Roland happily climbs the small ladder and then falls into his father's arms from the top, his enthusiastic "catch me, papa!" serving as warning to his antics only half a second before he jumps. They celebrate, they giggle, and they bask in the joy of finally being on their way to something new, something exciting, just as they'd always wanted, and though the anchor hasn't even been lifted yet, the promise of this new life and the happiness in his son's eyes warms Robin's heart so much that he wants to do something special to mark the occasion, and suddenly he comes up with an idea.

"Come on, Roland, I want to show you something," he tells the boy, dragging him outside to the railings that line the ship and perching him on one of the lower iron hinges that hold it together.

"Okay, now wave!" Robin says eagerly, keeping one arm around Roland from behind while he raises his other hand and waves at the crowd now gathered on port, screaming their goodbyes with excited smiles on their faces.

"But papa, we don't know anyone," Roland says, scrunching up his nose as he looks at his father.

"That doesn't matter. We're sailing across the sea! Come on, say goodbye, it's fun!" his voice sounds boyish even to his own ears, but Robin doesn't care, merely continues to wave, loving the way his son finally embraces the idea and starts to shout parting words to the strangers that are waving back at their families.

A deep sound interrupts their jubilant cries. The ship's horn, announcing they're about to depart, and so Robin waves a last, cheeky goodbye to a particularly attractive young woman down below and grabs Roland, spinning him around as they walk back into the cabin, looking for their room and finding John already sorting through his bag, getting out the few clothing items he's brought with him and placing them in the tiny closet next on the other side of the small room.

"What were you doing?" he asks curiously.

"Saying goodbye," Robin tells him, eyes dancing with amusement.

"Goodbye? To who?"

"Everyone, Uncle John!" Roland intervenes, laughing when John shakes his head and mutters something that sounds like "so ridiculous" that seems to be directed at Robin, who chortles and proceeds to unpack his bag.

It takes him almost no time at all –it's not much, what he's brought with them, just the clothes on their backs, a few spare shirts, trousers and underthings for he and Roland, some blank sheets of paper and the three charcoal pencils he has left— and in minutes he's walking back out to the deck again, leaving Roland with John this time as he walks out and to the railings the line the ship near the stern bridge, staring at the waves that the iron giant is creating as it propels itself away from home.

He takes a deep breath, and basks in his luck. Robin Locksley had always been a fortunate fellow, despite not having much, his son had never lacked for a thing, and neither had his wife when she was alive. Losing her had hurt more than he'd ever imagined, but he had Roland, he had that little ray of sunshine to take care of, and that was enough for him to carry on. He tries, every single day, to help his son grow up into someone his mama would be proud of, and he knows in his heart that she would be, that she would love seeing him beat his father and John at simple card games and she would beam if she could see that thick mop of brown curls and those sparkling eyes that are so like hers, framed with long lashes and holding such a joy in them that makes it worthwhile for him to get up in the morning.

God, he loves that child so much, has no idea what his life would be like without him, but he's sure it wouldn't have been much of a life. Roland was his saving grace from the moment he was born, and even as his Marian drifted away into eternal darkness, Robin had found hope in that little bundle of blankets that was delivered to him right after the news of his wife's death, and he had vowed that he would do whatever it took to make his life a beautiful one, as she would've wanted. Going to America had seemed like the best choice; a new country where no one knew who they were, where they could start anew in a city full of opportunities, where Roland could chase his wildest dreams as he grew older, where they could build a life, where they could be happy.

Titanic is certainly the best means for that goal, and he can't believe his luck, can't believe he's done the impossible and now finds himself on the way to a better life with his son and his comrade in the most majestic, modern ship in history, ready for an amazing new adventure, and he can't wait to see what it brings. But then all of that fades away the instant he sets eyes on her.

The morning sunlight is shining right on her as she looks down at the people milling about the stern from her spot on the A-Deck balcony, elbows placed delicately on the railing, hands clasping together on top of it. She's from first class, if he hadn't been able to tell by the fact that she's standing in one of the higher balconies of the ship, he can definitely tell from the rich fabrics of the crisp, snug coat she's wearing, but that's not what catches his eye. No, what knocks the breath right out of him is that she is the most beautiful being he's ever seen.

Her skin glows with the morning rays, the same rays that add golden shades to the thick, dark hair that falls in waves down her back, plump red lips that are tipped down in a scowl to match the furrowing of her brow. She's angry and frustrated, that much he can see, but it doesn't matter, because she's so gorgeous he's sure she would look like a goddess even with her face splattered in mud and her dress ripped to shreds.

"Go for it," a young voice says from his right, and Robin is startled out of his fantasies, where his fingers are already buried in the mysterious woman's soft tresses. He looks down and finds a boy with messy brown hair and a devilish smile, his eyes shining with mischief.

"Excuse me?"

"That lady you're staring at, go talk to her," he says, startling Robin.

"You really think I should?"

"Oh come on, you're practically drooling. Make her laugh, she looks like she needs it." He's five, maybe six years older than Roland, but there's a wisdom there, one that is rare in itself, more so in a boy so young. And there is hope, endless hope and a belief in things Robin let go of long ago, like romance and happy endings, all marks of his innocence, of a child's gift to see the world as a better place than it actually is.

"Henry!" a woman's voice calls from behind them, "oh thank god, there you are! I told you not to stray too far from the room, kid, you scared me!"

"Sorry, mom," he says sheepishly just as Robin turns to address her. He offers his hand and his name, and she accepts both, giving hers in return as she pushes her blond waves away from her face.

"I'm Emma, sorry if he gave you a hard time, he can be quite the little meddler."

"Not at all, we were just having a chat."

"I was telling him to go talk to the pretty lady in the balcony!" Henry tells his mother, and she shakes her head and laughs at him.

"See? What did I tell ya? Meddler."

"It's quite alright," Robin chuckles, his eyes straying from Emma's face and back to where he'd been staring before he'd been interrupted, perplexed once again by the beauty of the sad woman still standing there.

"Excited about being on the grandest ship of all time?" Emma asks, and her tone is skeptical, as if the tales are bigger than the actual boat.

"A little. Excited for something new, more than anything," he answers, not tearing his eyes away from the unknown woman, taking in every detail he can from where he stands, "you?"

"Just headin' home," Emma replies, "no offense, but I've had it with your country, I'm excited to go back to New York."

"Is it all it's cracked up to be?" he asks, his curiosity winning out over his need to look at the breathtaking creature at the balcony, his eyes turning back to Emma. He wants to know, needs confirmation that what he's doing is the right thing. He's rewarded with a smile.

"No, it's better," she tells him, and then gives him tips and hints of where to go once he arrives and what food to try and what places to avoid, and he knows he should be listening, he does, but the lady at the balcony chooses that moment to turn just a little to the side, and her face is no longer in profile, but right there in all its glory for him to see as she looks around at the ocean from what he now envisions is her throne, for she is a queen in her beauty, a beauty he was not prepared for despite having been looking at her for nigh on half an hour now.

"Oh, so that's her?" he hears Emma ask Henry when she notices the man's attention has gone elsewhere, and Robin can see the boy nodding at his mother out of the corner of his eye.

"Forget it, pal," she tells Robin, and that makes him frown and turn back to look at her, an eyebrow raised in question as she sighs.

"People like her don't look at people like us, might as well avoid the heartbreak," she replies with a shrug, "just some friendly advice."

"Perhaps you're right," Robin says as he watches her gather Henry and head back to their quarters.

"Come on, kid, if you want top bunk you gotta help me unpack."

Robin is left by himself once more, gazing at the woman yet again, because he can't help it, can't stop himself from contemplating her from afar, wondering who she is, where she comes from, if her lips are as soft as they look and if her hair would feel as velvety between his fingers as he's imagining it would. As if she can feel the direction his thoughts are taking, she suddenly tilts her head to look straight at him, and he realizes he's startled her with the length and intensity of his stare, so he merely gives her a nod, one she doesn't return, and leaves, heading back to his room, to his boy, and trying his hardest to forget her face, because he knows for a fact that if he allows himself another moment of the image of her in his mind, he won't be able to sleep tonight.

There, how was that?

Let's start this one off right and leave me a review, pretty please? Or, as always, my Tumblr ask is open (link on my profile), I'd love to know your thoughts!