A/N: This might be one of my favorite things I've ever written. I hope you all love it as much as I do.

She's insane. This sprite of a fairy that had popped into his life unexpectedly, blathering on and on about pixie dust and soulmates and leading him to his true love. Robin doesn't give a damn about true love. All he needs is his men, a decent pint of ale, and the open air of the forest around him to be happy. What use does he have for a soulmate?

But she is relentless, shows up every single day for a week without fail. Until eventually he gives in, agreeing to follow her stupid trail of sparkling dust to this supposed woman he is destined to be with. Bollocks if he's ever heard it, but hopefully it will get the little twit to leave him alone.

Tinkerbelle (that's her name, and what sort of name is that?) tosses the glittering pixie dust over him and then Robin is flying through the night with her, over the expanse of the Enchanted Forest where he and his men have been exploring the many pilfering opportunities available to them until they land in a gated garden, shadowed by the towering castle at it's back.

He frowns at her. "What is all this about?" Robin's instincts are tingling, nerves on high alert, the outlaw in him cautious enough to know his presence here is likely unwise. Has he made a terrible mistake in indulging this fairy's nonsense? One that ends with him locked in the gallows? Not that he couldn't escape should a sticky situation arise, he's plenty of experience with that, he thinks wriley.

"Shhhh," the blonde admonishes as she floats around his head, jerking her own tiny one in the direction of the next curve of bushes high enough to reach over his own. "She's just over there. Go on now."

Robin gives her a puzzled, circumspect look, but proceeds cautiously toward the curve of the path, curious about what might lie beyond it. One of his hands rests lightly on the branches as he slowly peeks his head around the bend first. A small courtyard comes into view, an expansive apple tree located directly in the center of the clearing, dominating the space.

There's a woman standing beneath it, gingerly reaching up for one of the shiny, ripe treats. He can't see anything but her back, miles of dark hair falling down over her spine and the soft cream dress with sheer sleeves that go down to her slim wrists. Despite himself, Robin's interest is instantly caught, something about her pulling him to her in a way he doesn't understand.

Perhaps the fairy had been onto something after all. What else could cause him to stand rooted to this spot as he watches her pluck an apple from one of the lower branches, turning it over in her hand as she smiles and turns around to sit on the bench beneath the tree.

At the sight of her face, Robin's breath halts in his throat, chest suddenly tight. She's gorgeous. The most stunning woman he's ever seen. And Tinkerbelle must surely be mistaken because there is no way in this heavenly earth that this woman is meant to be his. A lowly thief, nothing more than a common outlaw with nothing better to do than steal riches from the wealthy (even if he does share his spoils with those less fortunate, that's hardly the point).

For several minutes, Robin stands there, hiding behind the shrubbery like an idiot, until he grips one of the branches he holds onto so tightly it snaps in half. The sound startles this mysterious woman, and her gaze lifts to find him instantly.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" she demands, standing defensively, and Robin can tell she's just about to call out for someone or turn tail and run (neither of which he could really blame her for).

Stepping out of his hiding place, Robin lifts his hands in surrender, advancing slowly toward her so as not to alarm her further. "Forgive me, milady. I mean you no harm."

The dark haired beauty huffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she gives him a withering look. "That doesn't answer the question. What are you doing in my garden? How did you get past the castle walls?" Though she had initially seemed frightened, as Robin stands in front of her he notes that she no longer looks like she's about to dart off, or call for the castle guards, either of which would have been severely unfortunate.

He debates with himself for a moment, then decides that honesty might be the best course of action and admits, "I was led here, by magic." Dropping his hands back to his sides, Robin shoves them into his pockets because he doesn't know what else to do with them and it seems she's not quite going to turn him in yet. "Pixie dust to be exact," he adds as almost an afterthought.

The woman laughs, a musical, enchanting sound that instantly captivates him and suddenly this whole business doesn't seem quite so silly and ridiculous to him. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if his soul was tethered to her own. "Pixie dust? You expect me to believe that? And where would you have come by this dust? Fairy's are extremely protective over it, which means you could only have stolen it and likely for no good if you're breaking into the King's castle."

"I assure you it is the truth, milady. And I didn't steal it." Robin's lips quirk into a slight smirk at the irony of the accusation, but it seems a bit unwise to reveal his less than straight and narrow history so openly to a stranger so he doesn't elaborate beyond that. "I'm a bit baffled by the whole thing myself," he admits instead.

She raises a perfectly arched brow, clearly skeptical and there's a debate happening in those deep, chocolate brown eyes that Robin discovers are quite expressive as he gazes into them. One he interprets easily. Play along or turn him over to the keepers of the castle? There's intrigue there though so he's quick to offer up more of the story.

"A fairy came to me, hell bent on helping me find my happy ending, to lead me to my true love. Of course I thought it absolute poppycock. Total nonsense, but they're quite the feisty little things it seems, and she was relentless." Damn annoying about it actually, he recalls. Her lips quirk at his description and Robin feels a flush of pride at putting even a hint of a smile on her gorgeous face. "I caved, eventually, just to get her to shut up, of course, but she used the pixie dust on me and we landed here, in this garden. That's it."

The air is thick with tension as he finishes his tale while she shifts in discomfort, biting her lower lip as her brows draw together, a tiny crinkle forming between them as she studies him. "It led you here? To me?" There's disbelief in her tone and Robin can't quite believe it himself, surely he's having some sort of surreal, out of body experience, but here they are.

He nods, "Yes. Supposedly it was meant to lead me to my soulmate." Gods, what is wrong with him? She looks as frightened as a doe at the very notion, and who could blame her? He himself had been resistant to the notion. Now he's gone and cocked this all up before he even has a chance to win her over with his many charms.

Shaking her head, her voice is wet with carefully contained emotions as she tells him despondently, "That's impossible. My true love was killed, right in front of me. There's no hope for happiness in my future."

The horror of such a thing settles over Robin, and he immediately wants nothing more than to gather her up in his arms and comfort her, to take away that miserable, broken look that's come into her eyes. He can't do that though. They are strangers after all, and he's positive a beautiful, regal woman such as herself wouldn't want comfort from an outlaw such as himself. Clearly, if their surroundings are anything to go by, she's a noble woman, one of high birth to reside in the castle of a king. And though Robin himself might come from noble blood it's not the life he's chosen for himself, not any sort of life he wants when he's so much happier in the woods with his band of Merry Men.

What had that fairy been thinking?

That tugging on his heartstrings is relentless, however, refusing to be silenced and he can't seem to just walk away even when it would be the wisest decision. He senses that anything this might be or could become would be messy, her whispered confession only cementing that impression. And it's obvious she's been hurt deeply in the past, but Robin can't quite quell the desire to offer solace. Particularly when she so clearly believes it out of her reach.

Taking another cautious step toward her, he offers his condolences, "I am sorry, milady. That sounds horrific. Unthinkable. I can't imagine the heartbreak that would accompany such a thing."

She nods, fingers digging into her biceps as she hugs her arms tighter around her body, fighting off tears. "Thank you." Robin takes one more slow step closer, then another and another until he's standing directly before her, close enough the he can smell her perfume, something rich and spicy that contradicts the soft femininity of her dress in a way that's far too alluring.

Despite herself, a single tear has escaped the confines of her eyes talking about the loss of her love, sliding gradually down her cheek and with a burst of confidence he truly has no right to, Robin's thumb lifts to swipe it away. "I don't for one second believe that you are doomed to a life void of happiness, however. It may take time, but your heart will heal one day."

"What makes you so certain?" she questions, and whatever has been done to this poor woman, it has clearly left its scars. That much is apparent.

Robin smiles, genuine in his words as he answers her, "Faith, milady. Simple faith that good people deserve to be happy. No one is doomed to a life of suffering despite the hardships of our pasts."

She scoffs at that, "What makes you so certain I'm a good person? You don't even know me."

Nodding, Robin concedes to that. "True. I don't," he says, tossing her a grin, his dimples flashing flirtily as he continues, "but I would like to change that if you'll let me." Offering her his hand, he introduces himself finally, "Robin of Locksley at your service. And what might I call you, milady?"

Waiting for her to return the gesture or brush him aside feels like an eternity. He'd been skeptical at first about this whole pixie dust nonsense, but now that he's standing with her, charmed and interested in learning more of this beautiful, mesmerizing creature, Robin thinks perhaps he should track down that fairy and thank her after all. That is, if she doesn't reject him.

She hesitates for a minute or so, and something he can't quite decipher flickers through her gaze. Some other unknown demon that haunts her. Whatever it may be, she's clearly holding something back, but frankly, Robin doesn't give a damn what it might be, he just wants to know her. Whatever way she'll allow for that to happen.

Thankfully, it isn't more than a moment or two longer before she relents, giving up whatever internal battle she'd been having and placing her hand in his as she answers him quietly, "Regina. My name is Regina."