AN: Here it is, the very last chapter. I hope you enjoy this, and thanks for sticking with me.

And especially thanks for all the reviews. Really.

Epilogue

The sun was setting over a small town in Maine, the very last ray of sunshine hitting the small picnic area where most of the townspeople were sitting – having a celebration of sorts, it would seem – as if, in a last effort, trying to warm them all before it disappeared completely behind the hills, leaving only an orange coloured sky.

It looks as though painted with a talented brush of a long lost painter, or one yet to be discovered – a masterpiece if there ever was one. The colours blending together to make the most exquisite combination, deep purple tinted with just a hint of pink bleeding out at the edges, but mostly orange. A most magnificent colour as far as sunsets go, and not much further. But a warm colour nonetheless. And most importantly: a happy one.

Late summer leaves were already turning to colours of autumn, with only a slight chill in the evening air to announce the changing of seasons. And yet, it seemed more like a beginning than an end. A last chapter in the old story, that's been told through centuries, but also the beginning of one that is yet to be written, or told.

It was over a year ago that the Ice Queen had been sent back to her own kingdom, more or less a peaceful affair, thus ending the impromptu winter, to the great joy and relief of the residents of Storybrooke, Maine. But not before – with the help of Regina – Elsa finally learned to control her powers, for which she was eternally grateful to the former queen. Friendship was a strong word, but they definitely had themselves a new ally, and that never hurt. They made their apologies, said their goodbyes and that was that.

The Charmings, believe it or not, found yet another way to expand the family business – as a bitter old man with a cane had put it once, albeit jokingly – with a brand new member of their family on the way. Yes, again. Their happiness couldn't have been more prominent, and, according to them, it called for a celebratory picnic in the park. As it were, the townspeople would welcome the newest Charming baby with open arms, and with no apparent threat made to the family's life so far in the present time, they were all basking in the glory of all that was yet to come – together.

Everyone was there. Even Marian, who – for obvious reasons – found it more than just a little difficult to fit in and engage at first, but who was just as much a part of the town's life by now as anyone else, constantly fussing around Snow, Prince Neal, and the new baby just like everyone else.

The sounds of laughter, and the clinking of glasses carried through the wind and could be heard even from the smaller hill – just a little left of the bigger one – where a small family was quietly enjoying an evening out. They were close enough to the rest of the town to signify a sense of belonging and gratitude, for they were indeed a part of it, in the grand scheme of things, but also far enough to express their need for privacy, and well, distance.

A man and a woman were lying on the red and white checkered blanket, that the woman thought was quite cliché, but she let them take it anyway. "It's like a scene out of a movie," she'd said and he'd laughed. Maybe it was.

Regina was half asleep, lying on top of Robin, her head and one hand on his chest, the other intertwined with his on that damned blanket of theirs. He had an arm around her waist to keep her there, but longed to moved it to her beautiful dark hair, that was longer now than he'd ever seen it, at least in this land. He loved the silky feel of it when he ran his hand through it, but what he loved even more was the fact that she listened to him, and let it grow. He sighed, and settled on pulling her even closer to him, gathering her in his arms, much the same way he had when her life was hanging by a thread and he had almost lost her, and just like he has every other time after that. Some memories never leave us, and for him, this was one of those.

That's when he felt her stir, trying to stretch out her no doubt tired limbs, but at the same time never breaking contact with him. They were funny that way. Always touching, even in the smallest ways possible, like a hand on a shoulder, or under the dinner table, refusing to let go, even after all this time, as if there was a power in this world, or any other that could ever separate them.

She lifted her head and gave him a reassuring smile, probably knowing exactly what was running through his mind, as per usual. She lifted her hand from his chest and put it on his left cheek as a hello.

"Hey." She whispered hoarsely, her voice exhausted from sleep and contentment. His answering smile shined brighter than all the stars in the sky combined. "Hey yourself."

He took her hand in his and kissed her palm, and then the simple silver band that adorned her ring finger. It was one of his many habits he developed around her, not only because he could, but also because he just couldn't help himself. Not that she seemed to mind. Not at all.

"How long –" a yawn, "how long was I asleep?" "An hour, maybe. You looked so peaceful, I couldn't wake you." She smiles at him faintly, but looks away in search of something, or someone, and panic instantly fills her eyes, when she doesn't find it.

"They're fine," he reassures her immediately, squeezing her hand, and pointing in the direction of the valley, where two children are playing, completely unaware of the quieting world around them. "And Henry's over there, with the Charmings," he runs his thumb over her knuckles in abstract patterns, willing her worries away, as well as his own, and it seems to be working. They always did better together. "Everything's fine, Regina. We're fine."

He pulled them up into a sitting position, drawing her into his arms once again, as they turned to look at the now not-so-small boy and the little girl, one a constant surprise and joy; the other: simply a miracle.

And not only because she looked exactly like Regina, almost a miniature sculpture of her mother, the resemblance truly uncanny, from the tips of her toes to the shiny, tiny little dark hairs at the top of her one year old head. Except for the colour of her eyes, though they were just as expressive as her mothers' and even bigger, their colour had a distinct green shade; forest-green, if you will.

In spite of her already apparent beauty, the most extraordinary part of her was hidden, though not that deep down. She was an angelic little girl, full of delight and wonder. She had a light shining in her that was enough to keep the whole town illuminated even at Christmas time. Regina was in constant awe of her daughter, even after all this time. She didn't understand how any child of hers could be so… good.

He never voiced his opinion on the matter, at least not to her, but Robin wasn't surprised at all, since he knew where such a light would come from. Of course he knew. He saw it every day, next to him in his bed, in his arms, and in his heart, whenever he looked at his wife, and he intended to keep seeing it, until he couldn't see any more.

He had always wanted a daughter – that was his secret – but the reality exceeded even his wildest imaginations, and as for expectations, well, he learned to give those up long ago. Maybe it was time to remedy that, he thought to himself, as he looked at the woman in his arms. His soulmate. All his dreams were coming true, and it was all because of her.

"No." She said suddenly, in a low voice that was supposed to sound dangerous, but he learned a while ago to look out when she used that particular tone of voice – the one that meant he was in trouble – and this was not even close. "No, we're not fine," the mischievous glint in her eyes told him she was up to no good, and he had to admit, he quite liked that about her, maybe more than he should. But at this point, he just didn't give a damn.

"We're amazing."