This is my first OUAT/OutlawQueen story.
I've been forcing my friend to write an OQ fic and she retaliated by throwing a prompt my way and, surprise surprise, it turned into something more than I expected it to (I can never keep anything short and to the point).
The prompt was that Regina and Robin end up meeting soon after she runs away from the tavern in 'Quite a Common Fairy'. It's obviously AU and I own nothing.
Enjoy.
This is Your Chance
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It isn't until Regina is back at the castle, tripping on her skirt as she runs up the stairs, that she realizes she used magic. They had flown a good distance to get to the tavern and Regina hadn't been watching the path, never assuming she'd be left on her own to find her way back.
But Tinkerbell had left her, and Regina panicked and ran. She can vaguely recall the purple mist shimmering around her and the sense of weightlessness before she was back in the castle, treading across the stone in her slippers.
Her rooms are empty when she gets there, but she expected them to be. She closes the door behind her – an unnecessary barrier between her and the other inhabitants of the castle. Leopold has been gone for two weeks; Snow gone with him. She leans against the thick wood, hand pressed against her stomach. Her heart is pounding in her chest. Whether from using her magic spontaneously or from her hasty retreat, she doesn't know and finds it doesn't really make much of a difference.
Her eyes scan the room, wondering if Rumplestiltskin was hiding somewhere within. She wondered what he would say had he known she'd managed to transport herself – whether he would admire or rebuke her for the bout of unintentional magic, if he'd be pleased with her power. But as her heart slowed, she didn't feel powerful. She felt weak. Every pulse of her blood, every beat against her ribs, was a reminder of the weakness that lurked inside of her and she went to bed that night with her mother's voice echoing in her mind.
Love is weakness, Regina.
Leopold's return at the end of the week knocked any remaining thoughts of the man with the lion tattoo out of Regina's mind.
She had been in her chamber, Daniel's ring passing between her fingers, when the trumpets sounded. She stood, straightening her dress and strengthening her spine to go and welcome home her husband and his daughter.
She met them in the courtyard, her body stiff as a board as Snow threw her arms around her waist, rambling about their journey.
"It was lovely, Regina, but we missed you so. Didn't we, Father?"
Leopold nodded absentmindedly, too busy talking with one of the guards as he climbed down from his horse. The man was whispering in the king's ear, both of them throwing glances her way before the guard tried to discreetly motion for the king to look up. Regina could see him though, and followed his half hidden finger pointing at her balcony. Her face grew warm as she realized what the guard was telling Leopold. She pushed Snow's arms away from her as the king caught her gaze. Snow didn't read into the movement, instead latching onto Regina's sweaty palm, pulling her along as she headed inside. She let the girl lead, trying hard to ignore the stares burning into her back.
"They say you jumped from the tower."
Regina sat on her bed, as still as a statue. Leopold paced back and forth, shoes scuffing against the cold stone.
"I fell." She crossed her hands in front of her chest as he stopped to look at her, his face hard. Regina stared him down, daring him to argue with her, but he didn't. Arguing meant he'd have to acknowledge that there'd been a reason for her to jump in the first place. He turned, hands meeting behind his back, and continued pacing.
"They say you were flying."
"It was a fairy," Regina said. "She caught me before I could fall." He didn't know she was bending the truth.
"They say you used magic."
She could see the muscles in his jaw straining as he said the word. He stopped pacing, face turned sideways so she couldn't read his expression, but she could read his stance.
"They seem to be saying a lot." She was trying to sound flippant, but she was scared. Someone had seen her. Someone in the castle knew she had used magic.
Leopold spun towards her. "They saw you, Regina!"
Regina stood, pushing herself off the bed so she could look him in the eye, forcing her fear down.
"And who are you going to listen to?" She took a step forward, towards Leopold. She cocked an eyebrow, daring him to fight her on this. He took a step away, hands clenching at his sides.
"Magic is unacceptable." There were angry sparks in his eyes. Regina could see his mind working, trying to decide what to do – listen to his informants or choose ignorance. She hadn't denied his claim.
"I'm your queen," Regina said, mirroring his movement forward, brushing up against him. "Your wife."
She was level with him now, her chest touching his. His hands reached forward to grab at her waist. "Yes, you are." He pressed himself harder against her. She let him shove her down on the bed. Just like she had let Snow lead her into the castle. Father and daughter, pushing and pulling.
That night Leopold reminded her exactly what it meant to be his wife, to be his queen. There were no more fantasies for her – no more stable boys to save her, or soul mates with lion tattoos – and Regina cursed the little green fairy. First for telling her she could ever love again, and then for saving her.
Life went on as normal around the palace only the next time Leopold went away, he took Regina instead of Snow.
They were on their way home when they ran into trouble. Leopold had gone ahead on horseback, wanting to get back to Snow as soon as possible; Regina was put in the carriage to follow after him.
They had been on the road for hours; the rocking had lulled Regina into a stupor as night began to fall. She was half asleep when the carriage hit a bump and tilted sharply, waking her as her body slammed into the side. She tried to get her bearings, but it was too dark to see anything and when she moved the carriage tilted dangerously. A wheel must have broken off. A horse whinnied nearby, startling her. The carriage rocked on as someone pulled open the door, a lantern blocking their face.
Regina's heart was racing. There were shouts from the front guard to the rear, and then the clanging of steel on steel. She wasn't quite awake yet, but she was beginning to realize that the ditch they hit must have been dug on purpose. There were more shouts, more fighting, reinforcing the idea that this was a setup.
"What do you want?" She asked the man in front of her. She couldn't see his face – he was wearing a hood – but she's knows it's a man because of his build. Big and buff. Not someone she would want to run into on her own. But here she was, on her own, the guards busy fighting around her, none of them able to protect her from the hooded stranger in front of her.
His voice is gruff and accented when he talks to her. "Your purse. Where is it?"
Regina pauses at first, not sure what to say. She doesn't have a money purse with her – she's a queen after all – but she wonders if that's all he's after.
"I don't have one," she says, sure that he'll eventually recognize who is sitting in front of him.
He seems confused by her answer and she realizes that he honestly has no idea who he's talking to, has no idea who she is. She's about to say something when the noise outside the carriage gets louder. The man looked over his shoulder and then quickly back at her.
"Your rings," he points. "Give them to me."
"What?" Regina asks, her right hand instinctively covering the jewelry on her left. "No."
He ignores her and reaches forward to grab at her hands. She's readying herself to hit him, to keep him away, to not let him touch her. He leans towards her, the hand holding the lamp inching upwards, causing his sleeve to fall. The light casts a sharp glow on his wrist and Regina freezes as dark ink appears on his skin.
A tattoo.
Time slows to a crawl as the tattoo takes shape and Regina stares, eyes wide, chest heaving with a rush of adrenalin that leaves her immobile, her body choosing the wrong response. But then his skin is grazing against hers, hand yanking at the jewelry on her finger and she cries out, a spark shooting between their hands.
He was pulling away, but her hand was following, reaching for the one ring he had managed to pull off. The one that had slipped off too easily because it had never been meant to be a ring. The one that had been pulled off of a saddle by a boy whose heart had been turned to dust all because he loved her.
He left and took a part of her with him. Regina was used to men doing that. But this piece, this last thing of Daniel's was something she needed. She couldn't live without it, she couldn't breathe without it. Her chest was heaving, air going in and out too fast. Her fingers were tingling and she knew she was panicking. She needed to go after the thief, to get back her ring, but she couldn't move. The carriage was trembling around her and it took Regina a minute to realize it wasn't all in her mind.
"Your Majesty! Are you alright?"
One of the guards was clambering through the tilted doorway of the carriage, making it rock precariously on it's broken wheel. He seemed to realize his weight was making it shake and stepped down, reaching a hand out to the one she held outstretched – a small effort to get to the man who had stolen her ring.
His fingers moved to grasp her wrist, to pull her out of the teetering carriage, but she didn't want to be touched and the guard didn't seem to understand.
Regina felt her breath coming even faster, chest expanding less and less as she lost her grip on reality. The last time she felt like this, she had shoved her mother through a mirror.
It was too much. The ring, Daniel, the man in the dark, the one from the pub, the one with the lion tattoo. Images were flashing in her mind, black and white and red. Red like the heart her mother had ripped from Daniel's chest.
The guard's hand was wrapping around hers and squeezing, squeezing the way her mother had squeezed that heart to white ash in her palm.
She shouted; the guard echoed her, a burst of air propelling him in one direction and flinging Regina in the other. Only she had nowhere to go except further into the carriage, and the power behind the blast was strong enough to send it tipping further into the manmade ditch. Her head slammed into the wooden frame, forcing her already loosened grip on reality to slip that little bit further and she was barely aware of the same guard, moving slower and more carefully, pulling her out of the ruined box, and his tight but gentle grip around her waist as he set her sidesaddle on his horse.
Normally she would have objected to sharing a horse with anyone, but her head had been too woozy to put up an argument and it looked like she had no other way of getting back to the castle.
She was on the verge of unconsciousness when they arrived to hear Snow's anxious cries as the small group of soldiers rode into the courtyard, the sharp clack of hooves against the cobblestone matching the pounding behind her eyes. She was carefully pulled from the horse.
"You're hurt!"
Regina's feet were on solid ground now, but she was grateful for the chest of the guard behind her and the hand on her arm, even if it did belong to Leopold and he was holding on just a bit too hard.
"What happened?" His voice was gruff and she didn't know if he was asking her or the man holding her up.
"A band of crooks, Your Majesty."
Leopold muttered under his breath, fingers clenching around her arm.
"I'm alright," Regina said, wondering if he had even asked her. She tried to take a step forward; her legs didn't move, but it felt like the rest of her did. She felt detached, Leopold's grip on her arm the only thing keeping her from floating away.
"You're bleeding." Snow's voice sounded far away.
Was she? Regina pressed a hand to her head, feeling along her hairline. Her finger came away red.
"You are." Leopold answered her unasked question. "Let's get you upstairs."
But instead of leading her forward himself, Leopold was handing her over to two serving girls with a curt nod of his head and a barked order of "help the Queen to her chambers" before turning to his daughter. Through a haze, Regina could see her, looking as woozy as Regina felt.
'It's the blood.' Regina thought to herself as they led her away. The girl was too white for it.
She made it halfway up the stairs before she felt her legs going weak and her hands reached out to grab the girls helping her. She needed to stop.
"Just a little further, Your Majesty." One of the girls said. Her voice was timid as she reached under Regina's arm to pull her up, to brace her body against hers. "We're almost there."
Regina nodded, shutting her eyes so she couldn't see the steps swaying beneath her feet, and let the girls continue to pull her forward. By the time they made it into her chambers, she was barely cognizant enough to feel them leading her over to the bed, pulling off her shoes, cape, and dress, leaving her in nothing but her slip, shivering until they guided her under the covers. Her eyes stayed closed as one of them began dabbing a wet cloth over her face, washing away the blood congealed on her skin. And when Leopold came in demanding to know what she had to say about the incident, to tell him what she could, she stayed conscious long enough to feel his hands - cold on her bare shoulders – and to tell him that it had been a man who took her rings.
"But what did he look like? You must have seen something."
She wrenched her eyes open as he gave her a shake, the blurry mass of her King swaying over her.
"Anything, Regina. Something to help us find him."
She felt her eyes close again, pretending his voice had been soft and warm, caring even. And she told him what she knew. That it had been a man, "a man with a lion tattoo."
If Regina had once thought that a lion tattoo was somehow a defining feature, a unique mark belonging only to her soulmate, she was proven wrong in the weeks that followed. Day after day saw new men brought before the King and Queen, each of them bearing a tattoo resembling the big cat. And it was on Regina to either condemn them or set them free.
It took two weeks before the right man was brought in.
Regina knew it was him before they even brought him into the room. She could feel his presence all the way from the corridor. It started as a tingling in the pit of her stomach, like a bout of nerves, winding their way through her bloodstream until her whole body was thrumming. She kept her hands firmly clasped in her lap, shoulders held straight and head high.
When they finally brought him in, chains around his wrists blocking the tattoo from sight, Regina let out a gasp, a small puff of air pulled sharply into her lungs before they froze. The world narrowed, zeroing in on this man being forced to his knees before the dais she and the King sat upon.
He was clad in wool – dark pants and a lighter shirt – with a forest green cloak wrapped around his shoulders and neck. There was a small strip over where the material looked matted - lighter than the rest of the cloak, as if he wore something over his shoulder more often than not, like a quiver of arrows. Regina knew she would see one resting in the guard's hands if she looked. But she didn't look. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him.
Aside from the feeling in her gut, she was struck by the sheer physicality of the man in front of her. His clothing was loose-fitting, but if she concentrated – and she did – she could practically see the muscles rippling underneath. His neck looked like a solid trunk and his jaw was a chiseled rock - scruffy with a short beard. He was built for the outdoors; a man of the forest.
Then he was looking at her, and Regina saw the sky.
Startlingly blue eyes seared into her, and she knew that he was more than the forest; he was freedom. Her freedom. Salvation from the darkness of this castle, from this loveless marriage, from this life.
"Is this him?"
She nodded, eyes never leaving the man's kneeling on the stone.
"This is the man with the lion tattoo?"
Again, she nodded, unaware of whose question she had been answering until she heard Leopold order the guards to lock the man in the dungeons.
"Wait."
"This man is a thief," Leopold waved his hand, dismissing the crowd, "and will receive a thief's punishment."
"You don't mean to kill him?" Regina's heart leapt to her throat, more than mere panic overwhelming her.
"Of course."
"But –"
"No one steals from the royal family and gets away with it. This man will set an example." He reached for her hand, holding it tightly, a show of solidarity for those still in the hall.
Regina sat paralyzed in her chair, staring as the guards dragged the man with the lion tattoo down the center of the hall.
The further away he got, the heavier she felt; the tighter the shackles around her became, until she wondered how no one else could see them. And when she heard the echoing clink of chains in the hall, it took her a moment to realize it belonged to the thief's chains, dragging against the stone as he walked.
This couldn't be it. Tinkerbell had said he was her happy ending.
When he looked over his shoulder at her from the other side of the room, Regina no longer saw the sky.
The dungeons weren't as dark as she thought they'd be. Torches zigzagged upon the walls, filling the dark spaces between each other with a flickering yellow light.
Regina clung to the shadows, ducking into a niche in the stone when guards walked languidly passed. She paused, her back pressed to the wall, as she heard voices coming closer, but then they grew fainter and she realized there was a break in the wall up ahead of her. They had turned the other way.
Regina crept forward slowly, unsure of what she'd say were she to be caught down here. Leopold had never explicitly told her that the dungeons were off-limits, but her husband had taught her enough that she knew Queens weren't meant to be strolling through dark, dank places.
Peeking around the corner she could see a row of cells against the back wall. They looked empty. She turned to leave when she heard a tap on the bars. She took a step forward, unsure whether it was a good thing there was only one guard in the corner, head nodding forward as he slept.
Closing her eyes in concentration, Regina waved her hand, palm facing outwards and fingers flicking in an upward motion. Rumplestiltskin hadn't taught her sleeping spells yet, but once someone was already asleep, well, keeping them that way was easy.
The only indication her spell had worked was the sag in the guard's shoulders as he head leaned further towards his chest. There was another resounding clank on metal and then Regina saw him. He was facing away from her, leaving his profile only partly visible. His arms were resting on his knees and the fingers of his right hand were tapping away at the bars. There were no longer cuffs on his wrists and his tattoo in full view. She inched forward to get a better look.
The tattoo was simple, really, looking more like a coat of arms than anything else. She could see the bones in his wrist and arm flexing as he tapped against the bars. She bent forward, trying to see more of him without giving herself away.
"I can hear you."
His voice was low and Regina froze, not even daring to breathe.
"Holding your breath doesn't make you invisible." He chuckled. She felt her cheeks burn. "Who's there?"
His arms were still propped on his knees, fingers still casually resting against the bars, but she could see he was as stiff as she was, moving bones no longer visible under the skin of his arm. His head was cocked to the side, listening.
"Who are you?" She kept her voice low and stayed in the shadows, not answering him but asking her own question.
He wouldn't be able to see her even if he was looking right at her, but he turned at hearing her voice and peered into the dark.
"My name is Robin," he dipped his head in her general direction.
"Robin," she repeated, the name rolling smoothly off her tongue as if it had done so a hundred times before.
"Of Locksley."
"I've heard of you."
"Have you?"
"People talk."
"People?" He cocked an eyebrow.
"Guards," she said.
"Ah," he smirked. "So you know I'm a thief."
"You're more than a thief." Regina said sharply.
Robin leaned his chin on the bars, hands dangling over the sides. "Oh?"
"You're an outlaw." Regina said it like an insult, but Robin just chuckled. It irritated her. "You hide in the forest, setting traps and stealing from innocent people –"
"I don't steal from innocents." Robin cut her off.
"You stole from me."
"You mean this?"
He held his palm out, Daniel's ring resting atop his lifeline.
"That's mine." She took a step forward, hand out to reach for it, but Robin held the ring up to his face, twisting it between his fingers.
"I wanted to sell it, but it doesn't look all that valuable."
"It's valuable to me."
"Strange that a Queen should find value in a mere saddle ring."
"You know who I am." Regina raised her head, aware that he still couldn't see her.
"You'll find I'm quite perceptive."
"Not that perceptive," she scoffed. "You're standing in a cell."
Robin raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I wanted to be here."
"Why on earth would you want to be here?"
"To meet you."
Regina felt her breath hitch. He was teasing her, she was sure of it, but it didn't stop the clenching of her stomach as he stared in her direction.
"Let me see you."
"No."
"Please?"
His please was different than her tutor's, and Regina felt herself obeying out of something other than obligation. She pressed a hand against her stomach, smoothing her dress before taking a step forward, into the light of the torch.
Robin's gaze was intense, and although she stood her ground, holding herself with the poise and composure of a queen, she had never felt more uncomfortable. His eyes weren't just looking her over, they were devouring her, hungrily dancing up and down her frame. His jaw clenched and he stood straighter.
"They're right."
She cocked her head. "What?"
"You're just a child."
"I'm no child." She spat the word out, cheeks growing warm. She grabbed her skirts and turned to go.
"Wait! Please." His hand was reaching out for her. He had no magic, but she felt herself stop. "My apologies, Milady, but you look very young. Were it not for that crown on your head, I might've mistaken you for the King's daughter, not his wife."
"I'm no princess." Regina said, her voice low.
"No," Robin said. "You," his voice was cautious, eyes pondering, "are a queen."
Regina stood straighter, jutting her chin forward, lips pursed tightly. "Yes, I am."
He didn't look impressed with her. There was too much pity in his eyes, and Regina didn't like it. She lashed out. "And you're nothing more than a common pickpocket."
"I like to consider myself one-of-a-kind." Amusement flittered across his face before disappearing from the hard line of his jaw.
"Dead men are all too common."
"Is that what they have in store for me? Death?" Robin didn't look phased; it threw her off.
"Most men fear death."
"When you've spent most of your life searching for freedom, death stops being something to fear."
His eyes bore into her. Regina felt herself drawn to him, her feet shuffling closer until she was face to face with him, staring into clear blue eyes and seeing the freedom she desperately craved. Her breath was coming faster, her cheeks flushing as they stared at each other.
"Let me out." His voice was a whisper, his breath dancing across her face.
"What?"
"Help me escape." His hands gripped the bars between them tightly. "You can escape with me." His eyes were bright now, almost crazed and it broke the trance Regina had fallen into. She took a half step backwards. Robin tried to stop her. "You can leave with me. I know you want to. I can see it in your eyes."
Regina shook her head. "You don't know me."
"I think I do." He opened his palm, showing her Daniel's ring. "Get me out of here and you can have this back." He held it out to her, grasped between his thumb and forefinger.
"A trade?" She eyed him darkly. Robin shook his head.
"This is yours. I'll return it either way." He grabbed her hand, shoving the ring into her palm. A jolt of electricity shot through her and she almost dropped it, but Robin was grasping her hand tightly in his own. "I've heard about you too."
Warm fingers dug into her skin. Regina didn't pull away, she couldn't pull away, because he was still talking. "She came to me, too. Told me about you."
"Who came? Who told you about me?" Her whisper was rushed, breathless.
"The fairy," Regina's heart thudded painfully in her chest, eyes wide as Robin's bore into her, seeing straight through her and into her very being. "Tinkerbell."
The world stopped spinning, everything coming to a sudden, grinding halt. She wrenched her hand out of his grip, clutching the ring to her chest, her left palm cupping her clenched fist. White noise rushed through her ears, drowning out his hurried and strained explanations.
Tinkerbell had gone to the tavern after Regina had shooed her away. She had found the man with the lion tattoo, had told him about Regina, about what she wanted, what she needed...
"I don't need anything." Regina snarled. "I don't want anything," she ground out through clenched teeth. "Not from that stupid fairy, and certainly not from you."
"Regina..." it was the first time he said her name. She grew hot.
"I prefer 'Your Majesty'." She grabbed her skirts and twirled around, ready to march away when he called out to her again.
"Please."
She didn't stop this time.
"I have a son."
She faltered, pausing in her stride.
"He's only a baby. There's no one to take care of him if I die."
Regina did nothing. She didn't move, she didn't breathe.
"Please."
He was pleading with her, begging her. She inhaled sharply through her nose, and as she let it slowly out through her mouth a sharp 'click' resonated in the otherwise quiet dungeons.
"Find your own way out." She barely glanced over her shoulder when she heard the cell door creak open.
"Thank you." He was walking towards her, reaching for her again.
"Thank your son." Regina was already moving forward, needing to get out of there. "No child should grow up alone."
They reached the main hallway of the dungeons at the same time, Regina's strides growing slower as she resigned herself to returning to her designated position. As he caught up to her, Robin grabbed for her hand and stopped.
"What are you waiting for? You won't get a second chance."
"I already have," he said. "It's time for you to get yours. Come with me."
"I can't." Regina shook her head. "You have to go." It was her turn to plead with him. Her hand slipped through his grasp and she was walking. Away from him, away from a silly dream of freedom. "Now."
"I won't forget you, you know."
There was something pulling from her gut, a line, taunt with pressure.
"However long it takes, however long you fight it, you will get your happy ending, Regina. I'll make sure of it." The line was yanking at her, pinching her, as she kept going and he kept talking. "Pixie dust never lies."
She refused to look back at him, stumbling forward, back to the main castle. "Everything lies."
"I'll prove you wrong."
"You can try." It was the only inch she was willing to give him before turning the corner, placing the last barrier between them.
"Until we meet again, my Queen."
His voice floated behind her, accompanying Regina back into the light.
Until then, thief.