Once Upon a Time 1. Chapter 1

**_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!  
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><p>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.<p>

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.

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><p>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.<p>

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 hope_ful_," 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.

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><p><em><strong>There, how was that?<strong>_

_**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!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**I don't own them**_

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><p>Regina's accommodations are on B-Deck and comprised of mahogany furniture, with gold accents and crimson upholstery. The walls are enameled in white with elaborate carvings, flowery tapestries thrown over lavish couches and chairs. There's a large bedroom with a walk-in closet and a fireplace, two large shelves next to a full length mirror, and a full-sized, wrought-iron bedstead, with feather pillows and a plush duvet that matches the shade of red of the cushioning on the rest of the furniture. To the right, there is a small door that leads to the bathroom, then a luxurious living area down a short hall to the left, and a sun room that is located right next to her mother's chambers, with doors that act as passageways between them, giving Cora (and Leopold, who's rooms are next to Cora's) the ability to keep constant watch on her, something Regina absolutely detests, but is used to by now. Leopold is closer in age to Cora than he is to Regina, and they get along splendidly, treating her as some sort of show horse, put on display for the world to see. Sometimes, Regina thinks it would be best if he just married her mother instead of her, but having a bride that isn't twenty years younger than him is probably not an appealing concept for Leopold Blanchard.<p>

She keeps telling herself it'll be alright, that all she has to do is make it til tonight, when she can steal away while they're both sleeping in their feather beds and then she can do what she'd set out to do since she got on this ship. It would all be over soon, she needn't suffer this life that much longer.

"Regina, stop sulking, it's time for tea," Cora's voice barks at her later that day, when she's changed into yet another expensive dress and left the maids to finish unpacking their bags. They begin to walk down the hallway, dainty gloves and fans in hand as they enter the tea room, where they are pleasantly greeted by the social royalty her mother still thinks them part of, even though they've no money left to presume themselves as such.

"Ah! Cora, dear," a soft voice says, and Regina looks at her mother just in time to see her extending a hand to John Alistair Gold, the richest man on the ship.

"John, darling, how lovely to see you again," Cora replies, surveying the beautiful young brunette holding the man's free arm, "and who is this?"

"Ah, yes, apologies, you've yet to meet my new wife. This is Belle. Belle, darling, this is Cora Mills."

They're about to shake hands, Cora already mentally passing judgment on the girl, when a crass voice cuts through the quiet murmurs.

"Oh hurry up with the damn pleasantries, will you? You're holding up the line!"

Regina snorts, amused, while Cora's eyes widen, and they both turn to find Ruby Lucas waiting for them to move away from the entrance so she can come inside as well.

"Ms. Lucas," Cora acknowledges, and the roll of the young woman's eyes has Regina grinning despite herself. Ruby Lucas was new, but very far up in their little social ladder, the long lost child of a rich mogul who had died in some animal attack while he was out hunting, leaving his newly found daughter an exorbitant amount of money, but she had lived in an orphanage for most of her life, and had refused to learn the prim and proper demeanor that was expected of her as a member of high society, even being bold enough to keep the scandalous red streaks she'd added to her raven hair and the daring dresses with necklines that were sometimes just a little too low, not caring what anyone said about her (not that anyone would actually say anything about her, for she was richer than all of them, rivaled only by Gold's net worth). It was easy to see how much she enjoyed her life and putting her newfound riches to good use. She'd invested in schools to educate women, had created new, better orphanages, and helped rescue many children from the cold, harsh reality of the streets. She's daring, and fierce, and Regina likes and admires her.

"Regina, hun, come with me so we can have a proper drink, being held up has frustrated me and I'm afraid tea is no longer going to do it for me," she says, and then takes her arm as they walk away, Regina throwing an apologetic glance at her mother behind her back. She knows she'll pay for this later, but right now, Ruby is offering her a welcome respite from the bland drinks and pretentious conversation, and she is going to take it.

"So how's the wedding going?" Ruby asks when they reach the first class smoking room. It's full of men, as no women are allowed inside, but everyone knows Ruby and, more importantly, the amount of riches she possesses, so no one dares to stop them from going in, and it feels illicit, scary and thrilling all at the same time, so Regina smiles despite herself, then frowns as she answers.

"Invitations have been sent out, I hope you received yours?"

"I did, but I ain't going."

"Why not?!" Regina asks as Ruby commands the bartender to serve them two glasses of brandy and drops a very generous tip on the counter in front of him.

"Because it's wrong and I do not want to be part of it. You're my age, Regina, you shouldn't be settling for grandpa Blanchard."

"I'm not settling, I—"

"Are you going to tell me you're in loooove with him?" Ruby asks with an exaggerated flutter of her lashes, hands clasped together against her cheek.

Regina knows she should say yes, should lie through her teeth and pretend to the world that this is what she wants, otherwise she'll never hear the end of it from her mother, but she can't bring herself to lie to Ruby, and somehow knows she'll see right through her if she does, so she settles for "it's complicated."

"Look, you're the only person I've met in this ridiculous world that isn't dull or after my money, I just want you to be happy."

"I will be, Ruby, you don't have to worry," and she will be. After tonight, she won't have to worry about money or her mother or Leopold's wondering hands and lascivious gaze ever again.

They move on to lighter subjects, Ruby regaling her with anecdotes of her life, her travels, and Regina finds herself envying her, her freedom, and sighing in wonder at all the things Ruby's seen, all the places she's visited. They then laugh over tales of her naughtier escapades, and when they've downed their drinks, they walk back to the tea room together, but Regina begs off joining her inside to ruffle some feathers and stays behind, taking a much needed moment to herself, walking out onto the balcony and breathing in the sea air. It's fresh and salty and tastes like the freedom she's always wanted but will never have.

It's after a few minutes, when the sky starts to lose its light, that she feels she's being watched. She's certain of it, has grown so wary of Cora and Leopold that she's become adept at telling when she's being spied on, but this feels different. There's no shiver running up and down her spine to alert her that it's her fiancé who's exploring her with his beady eyes, or the weird, sickly feeling that tells her mother is near. Sure enough, when she turns her head, she finds that she's being looked at by someone she's never set eyes on before. A man, a very handsome man, stands below on the boat deck, looking up at her intently, but she doesn't feel judged or lecherously stared at against her will, more like admired, and it rattles her that a stranger's gaze seems to be kinder on her than that of her own mother and future husband, so when the man realizes he's been caught staring and nods in her direction, she pretends not to notice, turns around and avoids looking at him until out of the corner of her eye she sees him leave, and she sighs in relief.

"Ah, there you are, darling," a pleasant voice announces, and there's the shiver.

"I've found her, Cora!" Leopold says as he calls out for her mother, then looks back at her, "we've been looking everywhere for you," he says, his tone calm and collected, but the grip he has on her arm is far less so, and she's sure she'll have small bruises in the morning, but then she remembers there won't be a morning, and she releases a relieved breath.

She is dragged back to her rooms, where her mother practically throws her against the chair in front of her dresser.

"You are not to go spending time alone with that woman again," she snaps.

"What was I supposed to do, mother? Deny the richest woman on the ship my company after she'd requested it?" the sound of Cora's hand colliding with her cheek cuts her sass right off, and she bites her lip to hold back the tears that are threatening to fall at the pain of the slap.

"I don't care who she is, you make up an excuse next time, but you will not be seen in her company, understood?! A friendship with new money like her will only land you with a bad reputation, Regina, and we cannot afford mistakes right now."

"Yes, mother," she says, knowing there's no arguing with her.

Cora then insists she changes for dinner, and Regina goes through the motions of adjusting her corset and donning her dress for the night, a stunning burgundy number with a black overlay full of black crystals and rich beading. At the last minute, however, she feigns a headache and pretends to collapse on her chair, telling her mother she's not feeling well and would rather stay in for the night.

"Oh, please, Regina, you're being way overdramatic for a little headache," she tells her, but lets her stay in her room all the same, barking orders at the maids to help her finish lacing up her own gown before she heads out the door, shawl draped over her gloved hands as she meets Leopold in the entryway and informs him of Regina's illness. Thankfully, he doesn't even pretend to be concerned, merely saying it was probably that drink she had with Ruby, and then taking Cora's hand and bidding his future bride good night as they head out of the room. Regina decides right there that she won't wait until they're asleep, she's doing this now. It's time.

Ever since she'd found out they would be going to America on board the Titanic, Regina had begun to devise her plan, sometimes indulging in adding a few colorful tweaks here and there to make sure she could cause as much damage as she could before she went. In the end it all came down to one thing: this is no life, and she's tired of it, refuses to take part in it any further. Even if she managed to escape, her mother would find her, she would never be free of her… unless she jumped from the ship and sunk into oblivion.

Some would say it was a melodramatic approach, others would qualify her as insane; in fact, up until a few days ago, Regina herself would, too, because she was not sure she'd have the guts to go through with it, the nerve to end her own life. But then Leopold had required her to bathe while he watched, his tongue peeking out of his mouth and licking his lips as he looked at her and touched himself, and then he'd taken her, like he did sometimes at night, had left her feeling hollow and in pain and hateful of herself, and Regina knew she could do it. Because she wasn't living, she wasn't a person, she was a puppet, and she was done. She'd rather die than live another moment of being used and humiliated by the people around her.

As the time for the trip drew closer, her resolve grew stronger, and it is that resolve that pushes her out the door now, that carries her through the corridors and around the ship until she's at the boat deck and she's running, feeling the biting, cold wind in her face as she goes for the stern, bypassing the cargo crane after taking a breath and peering over the railing at the very back of the ship, looking down at the sea foam produced by the propellers, wondering how much it would hurt to fall down there.

She's climbed over the railing and is looking out at the expanse of the ocean before her, taking in the last few glimpses of the beauty around her and bidding the world adieu when a voice interrupts her carefully crafted inner speech of comfort and hope that she'll find a better place after she falls.

"Don't do it," the voice says, and it startles her for a second, before she turns around and sees the same man from earlier staring back at her, walking slowly towards her with his hands stretched out in front of him.

"Stand back, this is none of your business," she tells him, but it's halfhearted, because somewhere deep within her, the fact that someone's cared enough to want to stop her is making her second guess this entire plan.

"Whatever's going on, we can fix it. I know it doesn't sound that way now, but please, I promise you, I'll help in whatever way I can to make things better for you, just don't jump."

"What's it to you if I jump or not? You don't know me."

"Well, for one, I'd have to jump with you, and I do not fancy having to swim in water that cold."

"What are you talking about?"

"If you jump, I jump after you. I can't very well leave you to die down there, milady."

"Stop trying to distract me and get out of here, I need to do this," she tells him, desperation in her voice.

"No, you don't," he says, his tone calm, but there's a hint of concern there, a bead of hope that he'll be able to pull her back over the rail, and she finds herself clinging to it despite her better judgment.

"Please, you don't understand," she says then, tears falling down her face, "I can't go back, I can't."

"Then don't. Find something new, something you like. Life can be beautiful, believe me, you just have to open your heart to see it."

"And you know this how?"

"Come back over the rail and I'll explain," he says. He's reached her now, hand still outstretched and offered for her to take. His eyes are blue, she can tell now by the way the moonlight shines on them, and they are big and bright and full of worry, no pity or ulterior motives, just the need to help her.

"Come on," he says, his voice dropped to a low and velvety tenor as she hesitates, her hand hovering over his, "I promise we'll find a solution."

She has no idea what possesses her to do it (she doesn't know this man, after all), but she finds herself grabbing his hand, smiling a little when he sighs in relief.

"I'm Robin, by the way," he says as he helps her come back on to the ship. She wobbles on her feet from the nerves that are shaking her, but he catches her before she falls, holds her tightly for a moment before he lets go, though he remains close. She chuckles when she realizes there are tears falling from her eyes, but she returns the courtesy, smiling back at him and breathing one word in reply.

"Regina."

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><p><strong><em>Okay so how am I doing? Is this okay? I apologize for the short chapters, they'll get longer as we go further into the story, but I needed to end this one here.<em>**

**_Next chapter: a little of Robin's perspective on this first meeting and some getting-to-know-you fluff =)_**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Okay so, a few clarifications:**_

_**1- Some of you seem to be concerned that this fic is going to follow the movie to a T, so I'd just like you to know that it won't (how boring would that be?). Obviously it's based on the movie and there are a lot of elements from it that I'm incorporating in the fic, but this is a story on its own, so no, you don't NEED to watch the movie in order to understand the fic (though I guess in terms of the emotional value of it, it would help if you did?). Also, sometimes I go into A LOT of detail about the ship because I'm a huge Titanic nerd and basically know everything there is to know about it, so yeah, if I get carried away with descriptions of it and stuff, I apologize beforehand.**_

_**2- This chapter is dedicated to Nina because she wrote a wonderful piece the other day and I was so enamored by it that I promised I would dedicate this chapter to her so NINA! YOU ARE TALENTED AND AMAZING AND YOU NEED TO JUST WRITE FOREVER. (Also if you haven't checked out her stories yet, you totally should, her username here is nonsequiturvy and the particular story I was talking about is called Jealousy).**_

_**3- Enjoy =)**_

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><p>He's lying on a bench by the docking bridge, his jacket crumpled up to act as a pillow under his head as he gazes at the stars when he hears it, the loud clickety-clack of expensive heels as they hurry along the wooden deck floor. He thinks nothing of it at first, but then he notices them growing more hurried, desperate, and then whoever owns these shoes breaks into a sprint, and he sits up just in time to see a familiar curtain of dark locks fly by him as its owner runs past, pausing for a second by the starboard crane to catch her breath and then continuing on her anxious way. Something about the determination in her stance, the urgency with which she's running, has him leaving his comfortable spot and going after her, only to gasp when he realizes her intentions.<p>

She's climbed over the outermost rail at the far stern of the ship and is staring at the vast ocean around her, the wind moving her hair in every direction, a goddess of tragedy and sorrow as she stands there, ready to end it all.

"Don't do it," he begs her, stretching his hands out as he attempts to approach her.

She fires an angry response, but he keeps on, telling her things can be fixed, promising her he'll help her. And he will, he has no idea how, but he will, because this pull he's realized she has on him, this current of electricity that runs up and down his spine at the mere sight of her or the sound of her voice, it's special, and he has a suspicion that if she feels it, it can save her, can save them both.

In the end, she trusts him, lets him hold her hand to pull her back over the railing, and then she stumbles, the adrenaline still coursing through her, so he holds her steady, and that current spikes up when they touch, zapping through him quickly, her scent mixing with the night air, an intoxicating mixture of salt and the cold wind with the cinnamon of her hair, the softness of her skin as they shake hands. She breathes her name when he awkwardly introduces himself, (_Regina_, a name that's strong and beautiful, befitting its owner), and then he is lost in her, in those dark eyes that stare up at him with so much fear and sadness, and he wants nothing more than to ease her worries, to put a smile on her face that is genuine and free.

"You're freezing," he comments when he notices her shivering, absentmindedly running his hands up and down her arms, as if there's enough familiarity between them for him to be doing that, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. She flinches just a little, and he withdraws his hands, muttering an apology and running back to the bench he'd been occupying, gathering his forgotten jacket and draping it over her form.

"Better?" he asks, and she nods, but remains silent.

"Something tells me you don't want to go back to your rooms, so what do you say you join me for a drink in the third class pub? May not be as… grand… as the one on your side of the ship, but I doubt anyone will look for you there."

He's relieved –ecstatic, if he's honest- when she nods after a moment of consideration, and he offers his arm for her to take. Third class males have access to a smoking room that has its own bar (more like a tavern, really, considering the atmosphere and scant decor), and while women aren't allowed in on their own, they can enter as guests of male passengers. This is where he takes Regina now, guiding her down the stairs by the bridge and to the drafty corridors of the third class quarters, leading her slowly, hoping she'll familiarize herself with him before they enter the noisy pub. When they do, she's trembling, and he instantly finds a hidden corner where they can sequester themselves, hoping she'll feel more comfortable that way and that no one will stare. His jacket is huge on her and does a good job of hiding her expensive gown halfway to her thighs, but below that, the rich fabric and shiny crystals can still be seen, and in a room where everyone is drinking while clamoring for a chance to make more money, it's probably not wise to flaunt that you have it.

Reluctantly, he leaves her for a moment, secluded in their tiny spot while he goes to get them drinks. He has no idea what a lady of high society prefers in terms of alcohol, but this is the steerage end of the ship, and where she might be offered expensive wines and fruity drinks while some old man plays the grand piano, here there is only the rich, strong taste of Guinness and the incessant noise of loud chatter, something she's probably not accustomed to, but he hopes she will like all the same.

"Here we are," he says as he sets the frothy drink in front of her, and she jumps at the sound of his voice, too caught up in her own demons. He wants so desperately to help her, to make her feel more comfortable, that he leans closer, catches her eye and speaks softly.

"It's alright, Regina. I won't hurt you, I promise."

She nods, seems to understand, but she's still far away in whatever plagues her, and he inches closer and hovers a hand over hers, wanting to provide her with some form of contact that will calm her and bring her out of that horrid world she seems to be so lost in, but they don't know each other, and the last thing he wants is to scare her away by touching her when she doesn't welcome it, so he withdraws his hand before it makes contact with her skin, sets it back on the table and around his drink, takes a deep swig, and waits.

"I know what you're thinking," she says, finally breaking the charged silence.

"You do?" he asks, his tone skeptical.

"I'd wager something along the lines of 'poor little rich girl, what does _she_ know about misery?'"

"Nothing of the sort," Robin assures her, because not once has that thought crossed his mind, "I was merely wondering who in your life could possibly have wronged you so, that you felt jumping from the back of Titanic was the better alternative."

"You were?" she looks up at him, astonished, it seems, by the fact that he's concerned about her, and he wonders, not for the first time, what has put that sadness in her eyes, who could look at her and want to put her down instead of helping her fly as high as she can go.

"Yes," he says simply, and then, "but I understand if you'd rather not talk about it to someone you barely know."

"It's not that," she starts, "I just… have a hard time believing you want to listen to the ramblings of a stranger. You must have better things to do."

"On the contrary, milady, I have all the time in the world," he smiles, hoping it'll put her at ease, but sensing her nerves, he continues, "I meant what I said back there, I want to help."

"No one can help me," she says bitterly.

"I don't believe that, and I don't think you do, either."

"Oh, I don't?"

"You would've jumped if you did."

"What makes you think you know me so well?" she asks him then, and he _likes_ this, the banter and her sass and the fire that erupts in her eyes when he challenges her.

"Well, for one, you would've left by now, if you really didn't think there was hope for you."

To his surprise, she laughs, nods her head and burrows further into his jacket, "maybe."

"Well, then, I'm all ears," he says, gesturing to her drink.

"I believe you said you would explain the joy of life if I didn't jump?" she fires back instead, and he sees her statement for what it is, a way for her to avoid talking about whatever it is that drove her to near suicide, but he complies to her request nonetheless, wanting nothing more than to earn her trust.

"My wife died long ago. I loved her so much, and I lost her, couldn't do anything to save her," he tells her, and her hand rests on his arm then, an attempt to comfort him. He smiles at her in thanks, and then continues his story.

"We're paupers, as you've probably noticed, but we were happy. She was… absolutely wonderful, a beacon of light, one that I was lucky enough to find in the darkness of my life. Losing her was the hardest thing I've ever had to experience, but I moved on. She taught me to find the beauty in life, and even after she was gone, I kept doing that, until one day I was able to smile again."

There's a tear falling from her eye now, and he reaches up to wipe it away, realizing a little too late that he's touching her without asking, but she doesn't seem to mind, and maybe it's his wishful thinking, but for a split second it feels like she actually leans into his touch.

"Anyway, the details are a long, sad story I'll tell you about some other time, when I'm a little more drunk and you're a little less depressed, but just… know that it will get better."

"For you, maybe. For me, it's… it's different," she says.

"How so?" he asks, leaning closer and giving her his full attention.

She tells him a little bit about herself, about her life and how everything has been decided for her since she first drew breath, and he can see in the passion of her speech how much she absolutely hates it, the way she despises not being in charge of her own destiny, and he wants her to be, wants to help her achieve everything she sets her mind to, because she's smart and fierce and anyone who dares to smother her flame does not deserve the privilege of knowing her.

"… and then all of a sudden I'm twenty-nine and still being told what to do by my mother. I've even been chosen as someone's bride without my consent," she rants, and shows him the ring, a huge, dreadful thing that could keep him, Roland and John fed like kings for months, but it's her words that startle him.

"You're marrying someone without wanting to?" he asks with a frown, and she nods miserably.

"Mother accepted for me. The wedding is happening just a few days after we get to New York, most of the first class passengers on this ship will be there, gawking at me while I walk down the aisle."

"Regina, why don't you just escape? Leave it all behind?"

"Mother would find me, and then she'd kill me," she says with a humorless laugh, and it scares him that she doesn't seem to mean her statement figuratively, that her mother really would do something awful to her if she were to run away.

"Most days I feel like I'm trapped in the middle of a crowded room, _screaming_ at the top of my lungs and no one even looks up. I figured maybe jumping into the North Atlantic was better than, well, all this," she finishes miserably, gesturing vaguely to her dress and jewels, and then tears begin to leak from her eyes and he loses all gentlemanly restrain he may have had and wraps his arms around her.

"Is this alright?" he asks, because he feels her shudder and does not want to make her uncomfortable, and he sighs in relief when she nods against his chest, letting him hold her as she cries.

"I'm so sorry for everything you've suffered," he says against her hair, "I know there's more to the story, and that you won't tell me about it tonight, but I'd like to be here for you, Regina, if you let me."

"Thank you," she breathes as she raises her head to look at him, and once again he's lost in the depth of her eyes, in the sorrow that clouds her and the beautiful soul trying so desperately to be free.

"Come with me," he prompts as he pulls back from her.

"But I haven't even touched my drink."

"Doesn't matter, you don't need a drink, you need a huggle."

"A what?" she asks incredulously.

"You'll see, come on," he says excitedly, offering his hand to her.

"Where are you taking me?" she's reluctant to join him, and he stops for a moment, looks straight at her and with all the sincerity he can muster, he promises she won't be hurt.

"I don't know who or what has made you so wary, but believe me when I say no harm will come to you."

"I know that, I just… we _just_ met!" she says with an incredulous laugh, and he understands, because it really is crazy that they've barely exchanged pleasantries and already she's sobbed about her life's story and he's become hell-bent on introducing her to his son (she doesn't know that last part, though, he wants it to be a surprise).

"Regina, do you trust me?" he asks then, and it takes her a moment before she answers.

"I do," she decides, "I've no idea why, but I do."

"Then do me a favor, take my hand, and let me try to put a smile on that lovely face of yours."

She looks determined as she places her hand in his, giving him a single nod that he takes as his queue to yank her up off her chair and out of the smoking room, down one corridor and another, and then a third, until he stops right outside the stark white door to his room. He fishes his key out of his pocket, pushes open the heavy wooden panel and grins when he finds John and Roland sitting on the floor playing chess. Neither of them actually knows how to play the game (they'd never learned no matter how much Robin tried to teach them), but they enjoy pretending to be kings and knights of their little castles so much that they've made up their own rules, and so the game has taken a whole new meaning and turned into an epic war between two kingdoms.

"Papa! I'm beating Uncle John!" his boy says excitedly, and Robin feels Regina peer curiously over his shoulder from where she's hiding behind him.

"Come here, my son, I have a special task for you," he says, crouching down so that Roland can jump into his arms. He can see the way John frowns as he sets eyes on the woman he's brought along, and Robin knows he's probably thinking this is a hook-up, some distraction to while away the days they have left on the ship, but she's not, she's someone that matters, someone intelligent and gorgeous and kind and interesting who, right now, needs a huggle.

"Roland, I'd like you to meet my new friend, Regina," Robin tells his son before turning to said new friend and offering her a kind smile, Roland peering up at her in wonder from where he nestles in his father's embrace.

"Hi," he says timidly as he stands up straight, hands clasped tightly behind him, eyes looking down at his shoes.

"Hi, there," she replies with a tiny smile.

"She's pretty, papa," Roland says to his father, and Robin instantly notices the way Regina blushes at the compliment.

"She is, she's very pretty," Robin agrees, his eyes on hers before he nudges Roland softly and pushes back the boy's thick brown locks, leaning in to stage-whisper in his ear.

"Son, Regina is a wee bit sad at the moment, do you think you could give her a huggle to make her feel better? I'd do it myself but yours are always better than mine."

Roland perks up at the prospect and nods enthusiastically as he walks closer to Regina, waiting for her to sink to the floor so they're on eye level, and then he wraps his arms tightly around her neck, holding her for a moment before he starts moving frantically from side to side, jostling her.

"Huggle!" he says happily into her hair, shaking her harder, and Robin is rewarded with the beautiful sound of her surprised laugh and the heartwarming sight of her putting her arms around his boy to return the gesture.

"Was that okay, papa?" the boy questions when the shaking stops and Regina's laughter has subsided, and Robin nods happily as he picks the child up, then offers a hand to Regina and helps her stand.

"Better?" he asks, and she smiles.

"Much," she tells him, then looks at his son and smiles at him, "thank you, Roland."

The boy is instantly smitten, and he squirms away from his father's grasp and onto the floor, grabs her hand and brings her further into the room, introducing her to his uncle, who reluctantly takes her free hand and places a kiss on it, the picture of formality.

"Milady," he says stiffly, and Robin laughs.

"Come on, John, loosen up."

"How can I when you've brought a duchess to our room?!" he hisses back, and Regina snorts adorably in amusement as she shakes her head.

"I'm no duchess, and please, call me Regina," she tells him, easing herself out of Robin's jacket and giving it back to him, "anyway, I should get going."

"But you just got here!" Roland intervenes, making her smile again, and Robin secretly vows to himself that he'll do anything to keep that smile there.

"He's right, how about some food? You must be starving, and I doubt you'd have better company than us," he ventures with a wink, and Regina looks around, thinks for a moment, and then nods.

"Food would be great," she says at last, "thank you."

He puts his jacket back over her (he tells her it's because she's wearing a very expensive gown and it's best if she doesn't draw attention to herself, which is true, but he can't deny the thrill he gets at seeing her wearing something of his) and they make their way to F-Deck, entering one of the two available dining saloons for third class. The room is vast and sparsely decorated, walls enameled in white like the rest of the ship and sidelights offering some illumination in the otherwise dull space. Several long tables that sit twenty or so people in wooden chairs are lined vertically across the deck, and there is an older woman in a white apron who seems to be in charge of distributing the food to all passengers, barking orders to the crew members near the spot where they choose to sit. Robin makes the short trek over to her, charms himself into her good graces, and comes back to the table with a tray full of plates of Irish stew and fresh bread for all four of them.

"Not the ten course meal you expected, I'm sure," John says to Regina as he takes a bite of his bread, and Robin kicks him under the table.

"Actually, I'd take a good plate of beef and potatoes over all that ridiculous French food any day," she fires back, unfazed, taking a spoonful from her plate and savoring the stew. Robin smiles proudly at her and then looks down at his meal as he begins to eat. The food is good, better than they're used to, that's for sure. They eat in silence, all except for Roland, who fires question after question at Regina, asking her all sorts of things, like when her birthday is, her favorite color, favorite dessert, and favorite animal. Robin is amused at his boy, knows he is as taken with this woman as he is, and for some reason that makes him happy, makes him excited for the prospect of having her in their lives, even if only for the duration of this trip, and suddenly a week seems like such a short time that he feels nostalgic at the idea of not seeing her again after they dock in New York.

"So you talked to her!" Henry's voice murmurs excitedly in his ear, and Robin turns to address the boy with a smirk.

"More or less," he tells him, "where's your mother?"

"She's getting us food. So what's her name?"

"Why don't you ask her?"

"Are you serious? She's rich! Rich people don't like us!" Henry balks at Robin's suggestion.

"She's here, isn't she? Go on, ask her, she's different," he insists, and smiles at Regina when he notices she's watching them.

Henry's gathering the courage to speak to her when Emma interrupts them.

"Well I'll be damned," she says as she stares at Regina.

"Is everything alright?" she asks in return, and the blonde shakes her head with a chuckle.

"I just… owe Robin an apology," she says as she looks back at him, and he waves his hand and brushes it off as he acquaints the two women, and then Henry finally decides to talk to her, holding out his hand and introducing himself, grinning when she takes it and does the same.

"So you're from the rich side of the boat, huh?" he asks.

"It's not all it's cracked up to be," Regina says, "believe me."

"I don't know, having the means to do whatever you wanna do sounds pretty sweet to me," Emma intervenes, and Regina scowls at her.

"That's not how it works," she barks back, and Emma senses she's hit a nerve and apologizes.

"I'm sorry, I just… know someone whose life is like that and I assumed... I didn't mean to offend you."

"It's fine," Regina says with a sigh, "can we just… not talk about money?"

"Fine by me," Emma smiles, digging into her food while Henry and Regina discuss the ship.

"They have a _wireless telegraph_! Can you believe it?!"

"I heard about that, but I haven't seen it yet."

"Captain Jones let me watch while the crew sent messages, it was awesome!"

"Sounds amazing. You think you can bring me along next time? Since you have connections and all?" Regina asks, and Emma gives her an appreciative nod at the way she encourages her son.

"Sure! The Captain won't mind, he needs to score points with me if he wants to hit on mom," he says with a laugh, and Emma drops her spoon to look at him incredulously.

"Excuse me?!"

"Mom, why do you think he let me watch in the first place?"

"Well he's mistaken if he thinks getting in with my kid means I'll pay attention to him."

"I don't know, he seems fun, and he has a pretty nice ride," Henry jokes as he taps on the sturdy wooden column that goes from floor to ceiling next to their table, and they all laugh heartily before they go back to their meals, their chatter never stopping. He finds out that she likes to cook, despite her mother not allowing her to do so, and he grins as she excitedly tells Emma about some apple dessert she came up with while playing with ingredients in the kitchen while her mother was away. Henry tells her he'd love to try it, and Regina smiles graciously and promises to make it for him when they've all settled in New York, and Roland instantly pipes up that he wants to try it too, so they make a date of it, discussing what other things they can do in the city, Emma serving as the proverbial tour guide since she's the only one of them who has actually been there before.

When they're done eating amid laughter and good conversation, Robin insists on walking Regina to her room, or as close as he can get to it, anyway (steerage passengers aren't allowed in first class quarters, they made that pretty clear the moment he stepped foot on the ship), and at first she's nervous, insists she doesn't want him to get in trouble, but he will have none of it, offers his arm to her and walks her out of the dining room. Emma and Henry wave her goodbye, and she leaves Roland giggling with her lips marked in red on his cheek from the parting smooch she gives him, and John laughing when she cracks a joke at the crumb of bread stuck to his beard. Robin is ecstatic that she seems to enjoy their company despite them not being of her stature, but then he had known from the start she was not like the other first class passengers on this ship, and he was glad for it.

They take the long way up, through all the decks from F to C, and when they finally reach the staircase that leads up to B-Deck, she shrugs off his jacket and hands it to him. Robin throws it over his shoulder and sighs. He can't go any further, and their evening is at an end, but before he lets her go, he pulls her into a dark corner under the stairs and holds her hand lazily, wanting to steal just a few more moments with her before she walks away.

"My son is quite taken with you," he throws as a conversation starter.

"He's adorable," she grins, "and you were right, his huggle is just what I needed."

"He's got magic powers, that boy," he jokes, and they laugh softly before they both go quiet again.

"When you said you'd lost your wife…" she starts then, and he can see that she's putting two and two together, but confirms her suspicions anyway.

"She died in childbirth."

"I'm sorry," she says again, and he tries to shrug it off so as not to dampen the mood.

"It was a long time ago, and John is like a brother to me, he's been there from the start, helping in any way he can. We've both made sure Roland never lacks for anything, and he's a happy child, despite never knowing a mother."

"You're a good father," she tells him with a smile, and for some reason, the fact that she thinks that after just one night with him means so much that he chokes up just a little, looks down at the hand of hers he's still holding and reins in his emotions before looking back up into her eyes.

"Thank you," is all he can say.

"No, thank _you_, for everything you did tonight."

"Promise me you won't try that again," he pleads then, his hand tightening around hers.

"I won't."

"Promise me," he urges.

"I promise, Robin, I won't try that again," she says firmly, and then grins at him when he lingers, trying to find something else to say. He looks ridiculous, he knows that, but he's just heard her say his name out loud for the first time and now he can't seem to find the will to leave.

"Will I see you again?" Robin asks her then, and he hates to sound so foolish, so desperate, but he can't bear the thought of not spending more time with her.

"I… my mother watches me like a hawk," she hesitates.

"You managed to get away tonight."

"I was going to kill myself, I wasn't concerned with her finding out that I'd left my room," she tells him, her tone bitter, and he rushes to stop the dark thoughts that surely cloud her now, his free hand coming up to hook a finger under her chin.

"Regina, despite how this evening started, you know we had a wonderful time. I haven't enjoyed myself this much in years. Please, tell me we'll see each other again," he begs, and something in the tortured expression he's sure is on his face now must have convinced her, because finally, she nods, gives him the tiniest of smiles as her eyes search his.

"I'll find a way," she promises, and he sighs in relief, grins as he bows to place a kiss on her hand and lets her go, making his way back to his side of the ship. The cinnamon scent of her still clings to the fabric of his jacket, and he breathes her in and closes his eyes right as he reaches the railing on E-Deck and leans on it, nothing but ocean and possibilities ahead of him.

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><p><em><strong>Aren't they just ADORABLE?<strong>_

_**So yeah, as you can see, a few variations from the original plotline in the movie, but I hope you're liking this anyway.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Out of everything I've written so far, this chapter is one of my favorite pieces. Enjoy!**_

_**Also, I don't own Outlaw Queen... or OUAT... or Titanic... or... ok now I'm just depressed.**_

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><p>Regina practically floats into her room, a silly smile on her face as she collapses on the chair in front of her vanity and stares at herself in the mirror. There's a fire in her eyes, something she hasn't seen in a very long time, and it's Robin who's put it there, him and his beautiful son and their dimpled smiles and their laughter, and she thanks her lucky stars that he was there to stop her from jumping into the sea, that he showed up at precisely the right moment and pulled her back and insisted that things can get better. Obviously, that will never happen, but that glimmer of hope, framed in those moments of kindness, had been everything to her, because it allowed her –if only for an hour or so— to be herself, someone she thought she'd lost somewhere in the never-ending parade of dresses and jewels and fake friendships and expensive china. Tonight, Robin has shown her she's not the empty shell she thought she was, that she's still there, still her own person somewhere inside her, and maybe that person is worth fighting for.<p>

And then, of course, there's also the warm, tingly way he makes her _feel_.

She'd recognized him from before, from when he'd been staring at her below the balcony, and she'd grown a little nervous because twice in one day he'd been there watching her, but there was something about Robin, something about the intensity of his gaze when he'd looked at her, like he was peering into her soul and wanted to protect it, and it drew her in and made her want to show herself to him, to bare all her secrets for him to know. Of course, the self-deprecating part of her wanted to tell him these secrets so he'd be disgusted and leave before she became dependent on his company, but the other, more sane part of her, knew he was a good man, and wanted him to know her, wanted him to comfort her and make her feel like a better life was possible after all, and she clings to that part now, holds onto it with an iron grip as she basks in the memories of just a few minutes ago, when he'd looked at her with those very blue eyes and held her hand and caressed it with his thumb as he murmured kind words in that deep, lovely voice that does things to her.

She's promised Robin not to jump, that she'll see him again, has promised Henry and Roland she will make apple turnovers for them when they're in New York, promised Emma she'll let her give her a proper tour of the city. She's promised so much in a life that wasn't supposed to be, a life that was supposed to end hours ago, but she finds that she likes these new people who appreciate her for who she is, likes the light of Henry's smile and the happiness in Roland's dimples and her banter with John and Emma. And Robin, she definitely likes Robin. And so while Regina has no idea _how_ she's going to keep the promises she's made, she's sure about one thing: she _will_ keep them.

She's changed into her night gown –it's a little early, but she figures since she pretended to be sick, she might as well go all out and be comfortable— and is planning out an escape for tomorrow in her head, absentmindedly running her finger over the rim of her teacup when a knock on her door interrupts her. It's Leopold, and he's got a self-satisfied sneer on his face as he lets himself into her room, shutting the door on Sidney's face after he orders him to wait outside.

"Ah, my darling, I was hoping you'd feel a little better," he begins as he makes his way over to her and puts his hand on the side of her neck, his eyes glued to hers in the mirror before they rake down on her reflection, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips as he takes in the exposed skin of her chest, and Regina scrambles to pull her robe tighter over herself.

"Not really, my headache got so bad that I'm actually feeling a little nauseous, but I'll be alright once I get some rest," she tells him, trying to get this over with quickly and get him to leave, "did you want something?"

"Well, I wanted you, but seeing as you're… indisposed… I suppose that will have to wait."

"It's probably best," Regina tells him, hiding the shiver that runs down her spine as it always does when Leopold takes her to bed. Thankfully, this time he doesn't seem to want to push it.

"Still, though, I have something for you," he says, none too pleased that he's not getting what he wants tonight, but still eager to show her what he's gotten her, which tells Regina it's either very expensive, or a reminder of how he owns her, or both.

He takes a navy blue velvet box out of his top coat and places it on the vanity in front of her, stretching a hand in front of her to open it as he bends down behind her and rests his lips by her cheek. The box contains the single most opulent and captivating piece of jewelry Regina has ever seen, a heart-shaped gem of a blue so deep it could rival the ocean's, tiny diamonds encrusted all around it to make the heart shape more pronounced. It's hanging from a necklace studded with more diamonds, and Regina gasps at the sight.

"This is…" she trails off, not knowing what to say, then lets her curiosity get the best of her, "how did you find a sapphire that big?"

"It's not a sapphire, dearest, it's a diamond. Very rare to find in this color. In fact some say it's impossible nowadays. They call this one the heart of the ocean, it belonged to King Louis XVI of France, but got stolen when his castle was pillaged by rebels, it's been sold and passed around between private collectors ever since. The person who had it wasn't willing to sell it at first, but everyone has a price, and I have enough money to cover it, so in the end they were glad to make the deal."

"You got this for me?" she asks, still staring at the necklace in awe.

"Of course, I want my beautiful wife to have the very best."

He's letting the tips of his fingers graze her skin as he places the diamond around her neck, fastening it at the back and then trailing his hands down her shoulders as they both stare at it in the mirror, the dim light from the lamp beside them casting a golden glow.

"You look positively ravishing," he tells her, lips pressed against her neck. Regina shudders and untangles herself from him, covering the jewel with her hand as she stands up and looks back at her fiancé when she's put some distance between them.

"Thank you, it's beautiful," she utters, because it's what's expected of her, "but like I said, I'm feeling rather unwell, I'd like to sleep now."

He schools his features quickly, hiding the scowl he thinks she doesn't see, and then he takes her hand, kisses it as he wishes her a good night, and leaves the room.

Regina wipes her hand on her nightgown, takes the necklace off, shoves it unceremoniously back into its box and throws said box in her safe, locking all her doors and burying herself under the duvet of her bed and the cover of darkness as she flicks all the lights off, but sleep doesn't come to her, the memory of Leopold's clammy hands on her skin keeping her awake and shivering.

Turning her bedside lamp back on after lying awake for what feels like hours, Regina checks the clock. It's almost 10pm, and she needs to escape, if only for a little while, so she dons her silk robe and a thick coat over her nightgown, makes sure Cora doesn't hear her sneaking out, and runs down the hall. Her mind is in the roof of the stern, on that spot by the cargo crane where she can look out at the ocean and feel the wind in her face and fight off the wave of nausea now coursing through her, but her heart has other ideas, and suddenly she finds herself weaving through the corridors of the third class rooms until she stops right outside the door of room 318, her heart pounding in her chest, her breaths shallow and quick. Now that she's here, she's panicking, already thinking of going back, but as soon as she turns, the door opens, and out comes John, chortling about something and making Roland giggle from where he sits on his bed inside the room.

"Oh, hello again," John says when he sees her, and then he must notice how shaken she is, because he's looking at her with concern and pity in his eyes before he moves to the side to make her visible to the others, who are sitting cross-legged on the floor playing some sort of card game. Robin's eyes widen when he sees her, and Henry smiles from over the cluster of cards he holds fanned out in one hand and waves at her with the other, Emma doing the same even as she stares suspiciously at her.

"Regina?" Robin whispers, putting his cards down on the makeshift table, which Regina realizes is just an old suitcase, "is everything alright?"

"I… need to hide out for a little while, if that's okay?" she asks him, and he nods without hesitation, waving goodbye to Emma and Henry as the blonde suspends the game and says something about giving them some privacy, dragging John out of the door with her under the pretense of having him walk them to their room. Roland isn't convinced, however, so he begs to stay.

"But what if Regina needs another huggle? I have to be here to give it to her," he reasons sleepily from where he sits on the top bed, and Robin smiles at his son despite the heaviness in the air and allows him to remain, offering Regina a seat on the bottom bunk while he sinks to his knees on the floor in front of her, reaching out a hand to hold both of hers on her lap.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's nothing new," she waves off his concerns, "but after everything that happened today I just… I needed a moment away from…" she trails off, but she knows she doesn't have to say anything else, because the understanding in his eyes has hers watering even as he moves to sit next to her on the small bed and puts his arm over her shoulders, bringing her close enough for her to bury her face in his chest. It occurs to her that this is inappropriate, that there shouldn't be such physical demonstrations between them, but his arms are a welcome warmth around her and she shakes as she tries to hold back the dry sobs threatening to break through, which only makes him hold her tighter, whispering soft, unintelligible words against the top of her head.

"Papa?" Roland asks as he climbs down the ladder and reaches the floor, his sight set on Regina.

"Yes, my boy?"

"Can I hug her, too?"

"I don't think Regina can handle a huggle right now, son."

"But I can give her real hug, too, like you! No huggles, I promise. Please?" he begs, drawing out the word in a mopey, innocent little voice, and Regina chuckles against Robin's coat, raises her head and nods at the child, waiting patiently for him to climb into her lap, his little arms squeezing her neck.

"It's okay," he says, "we'll take care of you."

The statement has her smiling tearfully at him, because this beautiful little boy doesn't know what her life is like, has no idea what's happened that has made her so afraid and weepy, but he's offering her comfort all the same, and he wants to protect her, just like his father. It warms her heart.

Roland scampers to the floor then, heading to the small bedside table and taking out a blank sheet of paper, looking up at his father with the biggest puppy dog eyes Regina's ever seen.

"Can I draw something for Regina, papa? Please?" he begs, and Robin sighs, nods at his son as he lets go of her, and Regina suffers the loss instantly, barely managing to contain her disappointment when she can no longer feel his arms around her.

She sits next to Roland on the floor, watches him draw lines in charcoal over the rough surface of the paper, and she marvels at his focus, smiles at the cute way the tip of his tongue pokes out of his mouth in concentration as he tries to capture whatever it is his imagination is concocting. When he's done, he scribbles something at the bottom, saying it's his artist signature (though it's merely a squiggly line next to where he asks his father to write the date), and then hands it to her with a proud look on his face.

"Thank you, Roland," she tells him, "it's beautiful," and it is, because no one's ever made something for her, and Leopold could give her a hundred hearts of the ocean and still she wouldn't think them anywhere near as valuable as that sheet of paper with Roland's art on it. It's nothing but simple shapes that seem to depict a person (or stick figure, rather) standing on top of a bunch of zig-zagging lines and uneven rectangles, but the little boy insists that it's her on board the ship, and his excitement makes her feel lighter than she has in years.

"It's not as good as the ones papa does, but I like it," Roland says then, and Regina's eyes widen as she turns to Robin.

"You draw?" she asks, and she notices a blush appear on his cheeks before he looks away from them and gets up from his spot on the bed, moving around and gathering their coats.

"I... a little," he admits, "a lot less now than I used to, and they're not very good."

"Papa draws me all the time," Roland interrupts with a smirk, and Regina can tell that the boy knows exactly what he's doing, that he's probably been asked not to talk about his father's drawings to other people, yet here he is, outing his papa's secret to her.

"Does he, now?" Regina asks in amusement, and Roland nods eagerly as he goes to the suitcase by the bed and rummages through it, Robin making no attempt to stop him even though she can tell he's nervous, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he paces in the small space.

Roland gives a cry of triumph when he finds what he's looking for, and brings a battered, old leather portfolio out of the suitcase, plopping himself down next to Regina and opening it over her lap.

"Look, that's me!" he says needlessly as he points to a beautiful rendition of his face. Robin must have been lying, because he can't possibly see his own work and not think it's good, not when it looks like this. Roland's eyes are vibrant, full of life and mirth as they look back at her from the page, his dimples on full display and his teeth bared in the biggest of smiles.

"This is absolutely gorgeous," she whispers to Robin, but Roland takes that as his queue and excitedly begins to flip the pages.

"There's more! See? That's me sleeping, and then that's me when I was playing chess with Uncle John, but he's not in the picture, and that's me when I was a baby, and that's mama!"

Regina stops flipping through to stare at a breathtaking drawing of the woman Roland identifies as his mother. Her curls are long and thick, and it's easy for Regina to see that this is where the child got his hair from, as well as the almond shape of his eyes and the long eyelashes. The woman has a soft look about her, with a kind, serene smile on her full lips, and in a corner underneath the portrait is a single word: _Marian_.

"She was beautiful," she says to no one in particular, but sees Roland nod out of the corner of her eye.

"She's an angel now," he tells her, and through all this Robin just stands there, watching them interact and looking torn, Regina thinks, between snatching the drawings away from them and allowing her to see this part of him.

John chooses that moment to walk back into the room, taking in the scene before him and mumbling an excuse to leave, but Robin stops him, holding Regina's hand gently when she moves to make a hasty retreat, not wanting to make the man uncomfortable in his own room.

"John, would you mind staying with Roland for a bit while Regina and I take a walk?"

"But papa, I wanna go with Regina," the boy whines, and she can't help the grin that spreads on her face. She lets go of Robin's hand and cups Roland's little cheek, loving that she can draw those dimples out of him.

"I promise I'll come get you if I need another hug, alright?" she vows, and it seems to appease him enough to let them go without issue, waving at her until Robin grabs the portfolio, tucks Roland's drawing inside it and closes the door behind them.

They don't say a word until they've reached the boat deck and are sitting in a bench by the port side, overlooking the soft waves where the moonlight is reflected.

"I'm sorry," she begins, and Robin turns to look at her.

"Whatever for?"

"Roland revealing your secret to me, I'm sure your art is a very personal thing."

"Regina, I'm fine. You have nothing to apologize for, Roland loves those sketches and only ever shows them off to people he trusts. If anything, _I'm_ the one who's sorry."

"Whatever for?" she asks, quoting his earlier words.

"You looked a bit overwhelmed back there, I didn't mean for that to happen."

"Not overwhelmed, just… surprised. Didn't peg you for the artist type," she says with a smile, and his eyes shine as he grins back at her.

"I'm not. Not really, I only did it because Marian loved it."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"You have _got_ to stop apologizing," he says with amusement, reaching out a hand to her shoulder and squeezing gently, "it's alright. Believe me."

She almost apologizes again, but catches herself when she sees the knowing smirk on his face and takes a deep breath, her eyes trained on the wooden floor as she continues, "so you did it for her, then."

"It's how I met her," he says, nodding. "One of my favorite things to do while I lived in Paris was just sitting outside and sketching whatever caught my eye. It's such a beautiful city, there was always something new to see, to draw. One day, I was sitting in my bench by the park as always, and she walked by. I was hypnotized by her."

He's telling the story with nostalgia in his tone, but there's a fond smile on his face as he reminisces, and Regina finds herself entranced by it, by his voice as he continues to speak.

"I chased after her, was such a lovesick fool that I begged her to let me sketch her, got down on my knees in the middle of the park and told her I would not stand up again until she agreed to let me draw her. In the end, she agreed, and sat right there next to me while I put her face on paper.

"We talked for hours that day, and the day after that, and the day after that, and next thing I knew I was head over heels in love with her, asking her to be my wife after only four months of knowing each other. We got married within the year."

"Wow."

"Everyone thought we were being irrational, that it was too fast, but we just…"

"Knew," Regina finishes for him, appreciating the kind smile he gives her in return.

"After we were wed," he continues, "we'd take walks together, and we'd stop whenever something stood out to her, and then I'd sketch it for her. She loved it."

"That's sweet," she says, transfixed by the peaceful look on his face.

"After she died, I… I couldn't bear to pick up a pencil. But Roland was growing up so fast, and photos are expensive, so I started back up again."

"I'm glad you did, those drawings of him… they're beautiful, Robin. You have a gift."

"Ever since Marian died, I've only ever drawn Roland."

"Really? Nothing else caught your eye? No one else, what did you say, 'hypnotized' you?" she asks with a playful wiggle of her eyebrows, wanting to lighten the mood a little, and Robin chuckles softly.

"Not until recently," he whispers as his fingers play with her hair, and she grows nervous over the intimacy of the moment, so she looks away from his face.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, dropping his hand. She misses it instantly.

"No, no, it's just… I'm engaged," she tells him.

"So you've said," he replies, unfazed.

"Doesn't that bother you?"

"You don't love him," Robin says with a shrug, "and it's not like we're doing anything wrong or inappropriate here, we're just talking."

"If he saw us there's no telling what he'd do to you… to me," she shudders at the thought, and Robin frowns.

"Regina, has he hurt you before?" he asks then, and had she not made the mistake of looking into his eyes, she could've lied, but now that she's caught in his blue orbs, she can't, so she bites her lip and says nothing.

"Answer me," he begs, "has this man done something to you against your will?"

"What does it matter? He'll be my husband soon enough," she tries to shrug it off, waving a hand that he catches gently in his.

"No man should lay a finger on you unless you wish it, Regina, regardless of who they are."

"It doesn't work like that, Robin. We're getting married, he's allowed to claim certain… rights."

"Hurting you is _not_ his right," he says vehemently, firmly.

"Somehow I don't see my telling him that going over well," she replies with a humorless laugh.

"Then fight him off," he's frustrated now, she can see that, and it annoys her.

"And how am I supposed to do that? I can't just punch the guy."

"Yes, you can, at least when I'm not around to punch him for you."

"I don't need you to defend my honor."

"It's not… are you always so stubborn?" he asks, "I only want to help."

"Are you going to punch Leopold forever? You're going to, what, move into my house when we get to New York and be my own personal bodyguard? You can't save me, Robin, no one can," she's angry now, and finally he seems to understand that she's offended, that she doesn't want to be someone's project.

"It's not about saving you. I mean, it is, but it's also about…" he lets out an angry sound of frustration and then he chuckles, the fight leaving him in an instant, "you're infuriating, you know that?"

She scowls, raising an eyebrow at him, but he surprises her. Again.

"I like that about you," he murmurs with a grin, and they stay silent for a few minutes until, "I can teach you."

"Teach me what?"

"To defend yourself, should you ever need to."

"Why don't you just teach me how to draw, I'll get more enjoyment out of that."

"This isn't about your enjoyment, Regina, it's about protecting yourself. I want to help you, please let me."

"Why does it matter so much to you?" she really doesn't understand how someone she's known for a single day can care so much.

"Because _you_ matter to me," he says fiercely, "and you're right, I might not be able to be there all the time to defend you, but at least this way I know you can hurt the bastard, should he ever lay a hand on you without your consent."

She's taken aback by his revelation, by the sheer passion in his eyes as he tells her she's important to him, his hand clasping hers tightly as he urges her up.

"Okay, then, teach me how to hit like a man," she says jokingly, but he's taking this so seriously she can't help but find him adorable as he puts himself in position and asks her to mimic him. She does a miserable job of it, so he moves behind her and nudges her legs a little further apart, sets her hands a little higher, tucks her thumbs inside her fists. All the while, his touch is gentle, and she's sure he means to be soothing, to put her at ease, but all he's doing is rile up things inside her she has no business feeling for a man she just met, and yet…

"You're being too technical, none of this is going to work if he catches me unawares," she says as an excuse when she moves away from him, putting some much needed distance between them. Robin brings a hand to the back of his neck, and after a few silent seconds she can almost see the proverbial light bulb go off in his head.

"Right, okay, I have another idea," he tells her as he grabs her hand and brings it up.

"This one is easy, and you can do it pretty much at any moment," he says, bringing his own hand up and positioning it, palm bent backward, fingers curled loosely, and then he thrusts it upwards to demonstrate the movement as he explains, "use the heel of your hand and shove it up and into his face, if you do it hard enough, you can break his nose and he'll be too busy dealing with the blood and the pain, giving _you_ a chance to get away. Go on, try it."

"I'm not going to hit you, Robin," she says, scandalized.

"It's just a trial punch, I can handle it," he shrugs and grins, "come on."

She does it, moving her hand like he instructed, but she doesn't put much force on the hit, and merely manages to bump his nose.

"That was pitiful," he says with an amused roll of his eyes, "put your back into it, come on."

She does it again, harder this time, though still apprehensive, but the strength she's put behind it is enough to hit him hard, and he flinches with a strangled "ow!"

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, did I hurt you?!" she fusses, moving closer to him and ghosting her hands all over his face as she checks him for damage, secretly loving the way his stubble feels under her fingertips.

"Regina, I'm fine," he laughs, "that was good."

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asks, frantically looking over his face, relieved that she didn't draw blood. Her hands have come to rest on his cheeks now, thumbs rubbing over them, and it's as if the entire world slows down as she looks into his eyes and sees pride there, pride and care and an attraction she knows it's mutual, but can't bring herself to do anything about.

"I'm okay," he assures her, his hands coming up to wrap around her wrists, thumbs running back and forth over the backs of her hands. They stay like that for a moment, a very calm, blissful moment that is broken when a strong gust of wind blows her hair in her face, getting it caught in her mouth and blocking her view, and then she laughs, laughs like she hasn't in a very long time. He joins her, and they collapse on the bench next to each other as they try to catch their breath.

They talk quietly about random, lighter things for a while, and before she knows it, the sun is peeking out from the horizon, casting a dull orange glow about them, and Regina thinks to herself she's never seen anything so beautiful, and she basks in it, glad that she's here to see it with him, his arm around her as they sit on the bench, staring out at the water.

Out of the corner of her eye, Regina sees his portfolio, the one he brought with him and had lain forgotten on the bench while he gave her lessons on how to punch Leopold (she still can't believe the absurdity of the situation, but she likes it, likes this, likes _Robin_). She grabs the beaten leather folder then, opens it to the drawing of Roland's face and admires it again.

"So, are you going to teach me how to draw now?" she asks, and Robin beams at her, takes out a charcoal pencil from the inside pocket of the portfolio and finds a blank space in one of the less elaborate drawings of Roland. He squints his eyes in the low light as he teaches her about capturing shadows, about smudging the pencil lines to make certain features look softer, and then he scoots behind her as much as he can in the constricted space and holds her hand over the pencil while he helps her trace shapes and lines on the paper, slowly forming a silhouette of a face she recognizes as her own once he starts shading in the slope of her nose and the contour of her eyes. She stares at him then, her mouth slightly open in wonder.

"Is this really how you see me?" she asks when the rough sketch is ready. It's beautiful, _she_ is beautiful, but not in the way Leopold claims she is, like some sort of decoration piece, a rich man's newest conquest to be admired. No, the way Robin's captured her features is beautiful in a different way, a natural way, devoid of makeup and the trappings that embellish her. The drawing brings tears to her eyes because she actually _sees_ herself, demons and all, and it's gorgeous.

"How else would I see you?" he asks, "you're stunning, Regina, in every way."

They're sitting close, huddling in the cold, and his hand is still holding hers over the paper, though the pencil is no longer being used, and Robin's eyes shine so bright that she grows nervous, pulls away and looks over at the sun, now higher up in the sky and bathing the ship in its early morning light.

"I should get going, they'll be wondering where I am."

She's startled when he pushes the sheet of paper towards her.

"Keep it," he tells her, pairing it with Roland's drawing and depositing them in her hand.

She breathes a heartfelt _thank you_ and begins to walk away.

"And Regina?" he calls out to her, making her turn around to face him. "My door's open whenever you need it," he offers, and she nods, thanks him again, and is off to her rooms with a huge grin on her face and the two pages of his and Roland's artwork safely clutched in her hand.

As she passes the corridor and reaches the staircase to B-Deck, however, she feels the hairs on the back of her neck prickle, and knows she's being watched. When she turns, a shadow moves quickly behind one of the large wooden columns, but when she walks to it, she finds no one there. Still, she's weary, walks faster, and reaches her rooms in seconds, relief flooding her for a few brief moments before she turns and finds Leopold and Cora sitting in the living room, and then she realizes that the shadow she saw must have been Sidney, he'd been spying on her. How could she have been so stupid as to think she'd have a minute to herself, let alone a whole night? And now, now Leopold's man has seen her with Robin and gone and told on her, she's sure of it. She's put Robin in danger.

Cora says nothing, merely gets up and walks away, nose in the air as she leaves the room and locks the door behind her, leaving her alone with her future husband, whose menacing tone breaks through her shock when he gently takes the sketches from her hand and slowly rips them into pieces.

"So… spending time in steerage, are we, my darling?"

* * *

><p><em><strong>I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know Leopold is an icky bastard, but it'll get better, I promise.<strong>_


	5. Chapter 5

**_Enjoy =)_**

* * *

><p>Robin waltzes back into his room well after six in the morning, just as John is waking up, Roland still fast asleep in his top bunk. It's been nearly an hour since he'd watched Regina go, but he hasn't been able to stop thinking about her, his mind stuck with a permanent picture of her face, of the smile he'd put there. Boy, is he in trouble now.<p>

She's broken, her mother and fiancé have seen to that, and the mere thought of that man putting his hands on her angers him more than anything else ever has.

Robin has met his fair share of kind, intelligent women, women with spunk and attitude and beauty, his deceased wife included. Marian had been special, gorgeous and light and sweet and interesting, but Regina… Regina is something else entirely. Those lips and the tiny scar above them that he'd have to ask her about soon, those eyes, that spark, that stubbornness, the way she challenges him and makes him want to be better, makes him want to be enough to deserve her, and all of those little qualities and quirks that make her unbelievably stunning, in absolutely every way. He'd told her that's what she was, had made the corners of her mouth twitch with his stories, had made light flicker back in her eyes and excitement for life flood back into her spirit, and he was so enamored by her that he would happily devote himself to doing just that for the rest of his life if she'd let him.

"You're daydreaming again," John interrupts his thoughts, a stern look on his face, but Robin is unfazed, smiling like an idiot as he stares at his friend.

"I can't help it, mate, she's spectacular," he says, and John shakes his head solemnly.

"Robin, she's from a different world, it would never work out, stop fooling yourself."

"You've met her, you know she's different."

"I'll admit I was pleasantly surprised when she turned out to be so… normal… fun, even, but she's engaged to someone, brother, you can't just make away with another man's bride."

"She doesn't love him, she didn't choose him. And he's a prick."

"Does that matter? It's how things work in her world, and regardless of what happens on this ship between you two, she'll go back to him and live the life that was mapped out for her."

"You don't know that," Robin replies, fully aware that he sounds like a petulant child.

"You don't know that she'll want to be with you, either, and between your option and mine, I'd say mine has more possibility."

"I refuse to believe that. She's special, John, she's… unique."

"Just don't get your hopes up, my friend, and don't get Roland's hopes up either, he'd be devastated."

"I know," Robin admits, but pushes on. "Even if nothing happens between us, she needs someone, John, and I _want_ to be there for her, even as her friend, if that's as close as she'll have me."

"Robin, you've barely known the woman for a _day_," John says with a roll of his eyes.

"I don't care… I felt something, mate, from the moment I saw her I felt it, and I think she feels it too."

John sighs, knowing he can't win this argument, and slaps a hand on Robin's shoulder.

"Just be careful, alright?" he pleads, and Robin nods, then climbs up the ladder to his bed and cuddles his still sleeping son as John goes to shower.

* * *

><p>"Papa," Roland whispers in his ear, and he grunts in response.<p>

"Papa, wake up," he urges.

"Roland, what is it?" Robin grouches, eyes still closed.

"It's time for breakfast! Uncle John says they have biscuits and fruit and porridge!"

Robin groans, cursing inwardly as he squints and looks down at the bedside table where the clock is set. Two hours, he's slept only two hours, damn it all. But then he remembers why he's had so little sleep, why he stayed up all night, remembers _her_, and a grin spreads on his face.

"Alright, my boy, let's get dressed and go have some breakfast."

When they arrive at the dining saloon, they find the same elderly woman from yesterday shouting nonsense at the crew around them, and Robin laughs as he walks towards her. She has yet to tell anyone her name, has asked everyone to call her Granny, especially the children, so that is how he addresses her, Roland scampering off to find them a seat.

"Everything alright, Granny?"

"You tell me. Is first class food really so terrible that they feel the need to come down here and eat ours?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You brought that lady friend over yesterday, and you did a good job at hiding her from the others but nothing escapes me, Locksley, I know she's from the rich folk upstairs."

"Yes, but—"

"And now there's another one over there, eating my food and chatting to everyone like it's no big deal that she's forsaken her baked apples and fancy smoked salmon for my porridge."

Another? Robin looks to where she's jerking her head angrily and spots a lithe, pale-skinned beauty with raven hair and an expensive fur coat sitting next to Emma, the two chatting happily as they eat Granny's acclaimed porridge, Roland climbing onto the seat in front of them. Robin gathers breakfast for him and his son and walks there slowly, curiosity etched on his face.

"Robin, hey!" Emma greets as she looks up from Roland's smiling face, "meet Ruby Lucas, we used to be bunk buddies back at the orphanage."

_Ah, _that explains the acquaintance, Robin thinks, but not the difference in stature. Still, he stretches out a hand, takes Ruby's, and says his name, noticing there are bold, red streaks in her dark tresses, an odd styling choice if he's ever seen one.

"Had a rich daddy, he found me before he died and left all his money to me," is her introduction as she shakes his hand, and Emma laughs.

"I'm sorry?" Robin asks as he sits next to his son, depositing a plate in front of him.

"You're wondering how I'm rich, I'm explaining before the situation becomes awkward," she waves him off, "now, who is this cutie? Emma was just about to introduce us when you came over."

"I'm Roland!" he pipes up through a mouthful of biscuit.

"This is my son," Robin says with a chuckle, ruffling his boy's hair, and then, "I didn't mean to upset you, Ms. Lucas, I thought I was doing a better job at hiding my curiosity."

"Don't worry about it," Ruby laughs, "and for heaven's sake, call me Ruby, I hate formalities."

Robin acquiesces with a nod, then digs into his food (the porridge really _is_ good) as he listens to the conversation.

"I wish you would've let me buy you two a first class ticket instead, or maybe second class if you didn't want first, at least then we would've been in the same decks. I'm so lonely up there," Ruby says.

"You're my best friend, and I love you, but that would've been uncomfortable for everyone involved. Besides, we're fine here. Henry loves the ship."

"You're still moving in with me the second we dock," she commands.

"Only until I find a job and can afford a place of my own."

"Fine," Ruby huffs, "where's Henry, anyway?"

"With the captain, he's teaching him how to spot icebergs in the distance," Emma says with a roll of her eyes, "he should be down soon."

Not five minutes have gone by when Henry bounces into the room, cheeks flushed and breaths shallow. He spots them, and a huge smile breaks out on his face as he screams "Ruby!" and runs to them. Ruby gets up just in time for him to smack right into her, and she wraps her arms around his shoulders, his head buried in her stomach as she laughs.

"Hey, kiddo! How's the traveling going?"

"It's amazing! This ship is fantastic!"

"It really is something, isn't it?"

"Okay, calm down, go get some food and then you can talk, alright?" Emma says when she sees her son is about to embark in one of his technical rambles about Titanic.

"I'll go with you, Henry!" Roland says as he scrambles out of his chair, crumbs all over his shirt, and walks with the older boy towards Granny, talking animatedly the whole time.

"Your kid is adorable," Ruby says, and Robin looks away from his son and to her, a kind smile on his face as he acknowledges her compliment.

"I'm pretty fond of him, myself," he jokes. Ruby laughs and then looks at the big clock by the entrance.

"Ugh, it's almost nine," she whines as her forehead hits the table, "please don't make me go back there."

Emma laughs at her, pats her back in soothing motions even as she mocks, "ah, yes, the torturous life of the rich and famous, however will you manage?!"

"Emma, you've no idea how _boring_ it is up there, I thought it would be fun to have rooms in the big, fancy part of the ship, but all those people do is talk about their stupid houses in the country or their jewels or the flowers in the dining room or some bland piece of art. I even had to listen to this lady talk about _the weather_ all throughout dinner last night."

"Surely there must be _someone_ interesting to talk to?" Robin suggests, his mind on one particular woman.

"Well, there is one person, she's actually quite fun when she lets go of all that damn propriety, and she's been a good friend to me, but she wasn't at dinner last night, her mother said she was sick so she went to bed early. Lucky bitch."

"Hopefully she feels better today and can join you, then," Emma offers with a chuckle.

"I don't know, I mean if I had that witch for a mother and was set to marry a man as disgusting as the one she's betrothed to, I'd probably fake-sick my way to an early bed time every single night."

The notion sounded familiar to Robin, but it couldn't be, could it?

"This woman, what does she look like?" he inquires curiously, and Emma has yet to catch up on what he's thinking, but listens intently as Ruby describes her.

"Mm, about my height, brunette, brown eyes, _gorgeous_ cheekbones, small scar on her lip, why?"

"Are you guys talking about Regina?" Henry asks as he reaches them again, settling next to Ruby with his plate while Roland climbs on his father's lap, and Emma finally cottons on to Robin's suspicions.

"You guys know her?" Ruby asks, looking at them intently.

"She's awesome! She had dinner with us last night."

"And I gave her a huggle!" Roland declares excitedly.

"But… how?" Ruby asks, and then sets her eyes on Robin. He grins sheepishly and shrugs.

"We met on the boat deck, she needed a moment away from… well, you know how that is," he says, gesturing to her and then the room around them, and Ruby nods in understanding, "so I… I brought her here. She seemed to enjoy the reprieve."

"Why, that little rebel!" Ruby exclaims happily, "I always knew she had it in her."

"Please," Robin begs then, "don't tell her mother or her fiancé that she was here, I don't want to cause her any trouble."

"Oh, are you kidding me? I don't speak a word to those two idiots unless I absolutely have to, they're bad people. Regina's a good person, I don't want Cora or Leopold doing anything to her if I can help it."

"Thank you," Robin replies, relief washing over him, and Ruby gives him a knowing smirk.

"You like her, don't you?" she asks teasingly.

"We… she's a very interesting woman," he replies, not wanting to give himself away.

"And she's pretty!" Roland adds, dimples deepening.

"You totally like her," Ruby continues to taunt, and then she does something he wasn't expecting, and says "good! You seem like a good man, she deserves that."

"I… there's nothing going on," he tries to explain.

"And whose fault is that?"

"She's engaged," he says testily.

"Oh loosen up, man," Ruby says when she notices he's offended, protective now of Regina's reputation, "I'm just saying she deserves to have something good and fun in her life. She's the closest thing I have to a friend up there, I want her to find happiness, and that lecherous old dog is not it."

"That's not our decision to make," he tells her firmly, but secretly, he agrees, and he's sure Ruby knows that, sure she can see it written all over his face. She nods, the right corner of her mouth tipping up in an understanding grin, and turns back to Emma, who's been watching the entire debate and gaping at them.

"Her life sounds… complicated," Henry ventures.

"It is," both Ruby and Robin say at the same time.

"You know, kid," Emma says, putting her arm around her son's shoulders, "this might be the first time in my life where I'm actually glad we don't have money."

* * *

><p>After Ruby heads back up to A-Deck and noon has come and gone, Robin and Roland take a walk by the common area after their lunch, looking out at the sea as the ship continues on. They take a nap in one of the long folding chairs laid by the boat deck, and a few hours later they're by the stern, still enjoying the outside air as John amuses the boy while they play giants and heroes, John, of course, being the giant that chases a heroic Roland all around the deck, until he reaches Emma and cavorts her into playing along, naming her the damsel in distress that he has to save.<p>

"How about I just help you defeat the giant? Waiting here trapped in the tower is too boring," she tells him with a wink, and Roland nods enthusiastically, grabbing her hand and hurrying her along with him, hiding behind the docking bridge while John pretends not to see them and walks around huffing and puffing and growling. Henry and Robin sit in the extendable chairs nearby, watching the game unfold as they take in the last warm rays of the afternoon sun.

"What's wrong?" Henry asks him.

"Nothing, why?"

"You're moping."

"I'm not moping."

"Please, you're glaring at the sea like it just hit you in the face with a shovel. You miss her, don't you?"

"Who?" Robin asks, trying –and failing- to sound uninterested.

"Regina! You miss having her around."

"I'm just worried about her, is all."

"Because you _like_ her."

"Because her life is complicated," Robin throws back, quoting Henry's words from earlier.

"Why don't you go see her?"

"We're not allowed to go up to the first class decks, there's hundreds of crew members, skilled sailors all of them, and then there's me, how do you think that would go?"

"Yeah, not so good."

"Exactly. I don't want to embarrass her or get her into trouble."

"So you're just gonna wait here and do nothing?"

"You're not helping me feel any better, Henry."

"Why don't you ask Ruby for help?"

"How would I reach Ruby? She's upstairs as well."

"No she's not, she's over there, look!" Henry says, and points to the woman as she trots over to them.

"Had a couple of hours to kill before dinner," she pants, "what are you guys up to?"

"Roland and John are playing giants and heroes with mom," Henry fills her in, and Ruby beams.

"I love that game! Hey, Roland!" she calls after him just as he comes out of hiding and attacks John from behind, "mind if I join your army?"

"Actually, I was hoping we could talk for a moment?" Robin interrupts when she moves to join the boy and his companions.

"Everything alright?" she asks, turning back to him, and Henry chooses that moment to make himself scarce, joining John in the villains side of the game.

"I, uh, I was wondering if you've heard from Regina today?"

"I saw her at breakfast, she looked a little tired, but no worse for wear, why?"

"Just curious."

"She was supposed to come down to see you guys, wasn't she?"

"There's still time in the day, she might show up later, I think I'm just anxious."

"I haven't talked to her today, but I'll see if I can sneak her down after dinner."

"Oh you don't have to—"

"Wait, no," she interrupts, "I have a better idea."

"Ooh, I see the same mischievous glint in your eye that you had when you convinced Henry to paint my brown boots yellow, what are you planning?" Emma asks as she reaches them.

"I'm gonna sneak Robin into first class for dinner tonight," she announces proudly.

"What?!" he asks, stunned.

"Think about it, you get to see her, and I get to amuse myself with something interesting!"

"But Ruby—" Robin begins, but she cuts him off.

"No buts. I have some very expensive suits that belonged to my father, I plan on selling them when we get to New York and donating the cash, but while we're on this ship, you should have one, I'm sure I can find one that fits you. I'll meet you in Emma and Henry's room in ten, alright?" she says and then runs off before Robin can object.

"She's something, isn't she?" Emma pipes up with a laugh.

"She's… bonkers."

"I know, it's why we love her," Emma chuckles back, "come on, take her up on it, you want to see Regina, and I'm sure she wants to see you, it'll be a nice surprise for her."

"I'm not sure I'd be welcomed at her table, not with her mother and future husband there."

"They won't know who you are, and I'm sure Ruby will find a way for you two to have some time to yourselves."

"But how—" he starts, only to be interrupted by the blonde.

"Just go with Ruby, she always has good plans, she'll help you out."

"It's daft! Absolutely barmy! What if I make a mistake? This could turn into a total disaster for everyone," and it's true, as much as the thought of seeing Regina again thrills him, he really is worried.

"Robin, do you like this woman?" Emma asks.

"I…" he should lie, he knows it, should tell her he's just concerned about Regina's well-being, pretend nothing else is going on so that he can protect her, so that her reputation remains intact, but there's a look on the other woman's face that tells him if he lies, she'll know, so he nods. "I do. A lot, actually," he confesses with a defeated sigh, and there are still a million questions and obstacles running around in his head, but Emma stops everything with a single, simple sentence.

"Then you owe it to yourself to see if she feels the same. Now stop worrying so much, and go find her."

He should say no, tries so desperately to find a logical reason to object, but the truth is, he wants this, wants the chance to see Regina, spend time with her and at the very least be there for her, give her a look or a touch that reassures her, enough to get her through the constant criticism and snooty commentary she's told him she's subjected to night after night when dining with the high and mighty.

"Come on," Emma says, hooking her arm in his when she sees the conviction in his eyes, "John can stay with the kids, I'll take you to our room to wait for Ruby."

* * *

><p>An hour later, he's rigid and uneasy, the stiff, starchy white shirt and black jacket and trousers Ruby brought down from her suites making his skin itch, the crisp white bowtie digging into the hollow of his throat. His shoes are shiny and a tad smaller than his usual size, and he feels his toes squished together inside the expensive leather, but they're bearable. When Ruby's done fixing his hair, she sweeps her hands over his shoulders from where she stands behind him in the mirror, and grins.<p>

"You clean up well, Locksley. Regina won't know what hit her."

"These clothes are incredibly uncomfortable."

"They're supposed to be, why do you think all those rich men walk around like they have a stick up their ass?" she quips, and Robin can't help but laugh, shaking his head before placing his arms inside the black top coat she's holding open for him.

"Henry and I will take Roland to dinner," Emma promises Robin when the three of them are out the door, "now go get your girl." She winks, waves them goodbye, and walks away in the opposite direction.

Ruby takes his arm after that and steers him up to A-Deck, crew members not even bothering to check his passenger status, merely smiling politely and opening doors for him, calling him 'sir' and prattling rehearsed formalities at him.

"See? All you have to do is pretend you own a gold mine and you're in the club," Ruby jokes as they enter the dining room, and he's greeted by yet more _good evening_s and _sir_s and low bows.

There's a strange, waxy product in his hair that makes it stay in position, the slight waves tamed and neat, he's wearing very expensive aftershave of a woodsy, fresh scent, and his beard is trimmed, outlining the shape of his jaw. He looks… nice. Elegant and poised and he'd daresay just as good –if not better- than a lot of the men here.

Ruby abandons him by the entrance for a moment, and he takes the time to admire the architectural marvel they've just walked in through. He'd read in the papers about Titanic's prized grand staircase, knew all the technical information about it, like how it was located between the first and second funnels and how it extended through six whole decks, all the way down. He wasn't prepared for the beauty of it, however.

The staircase is capped by a huge, wrought-iron dome, with a crystal chandelier at the center of it casting a bright light over the many overdressed patrons now filing into the dining room. The two sets of steps that sprout from either side of the semi-circular room join into one at the center, a large, decorative oak panel with two carved figures surrounding a beautiful clock. The bronze statue of an angel holding a lit torch sits in the middle bannister by the landing, the floor laid with white linoleum tiles lined with black patterns. It is without doubt the most elegant piece of construction he's ever seen, and as he takes the last few steps down towards the actual dining saloon, he marvels at the fine craftsmanship of the carvings, the shape of the clock, the balanced contrast between the floor tiles and the wood…

When he's finally able to drag himself away from the magnificent structure, he spots Ruby by one of the many tables, checking the name cards placed on top of the plates until she finds the ones she's looking for and changes them with those from another table. She walks back to him cheerfully, giving him a conspiratorial wink before her eyes settle on someone just behind him.

"Ah! Cora! I was hoping I'd run into you before we sat down," Ruby says pleasantly as she walks towards an older woman with dark hair and a face that seems to be fixed in a perpetual scowl, "it looks like we're having dinner at the same table tonight."

"Are we?" Cora asks with curiosity, her narrowed eyes looking around the room, probably searching for the culprit of such a mishap. After sweeping her gaze over the room, she eyes Ruby up and down in a way that tells Robin that she'd rather die than share a meal with her. But share one she must, and she dons a sneer she tries to pass off as a polite smile and makes her way to the table, leaving Ruby behind to catch up to her.

"So, where's Regina?" she asks curiously, dragging Robin along as they find their seats. Robin's place setting has the name 'Captain Killian Jones' written on it, but Ruby nudges him with her elbow before he can react, effectively shutting him up.

"She'll be along shortly, Leopold wanted to walk her over…" she doesn't say more, but Robin can almost hear the '_so she doesn't run off again_' that must accompany that sentence in Cora's head, and he knows then why Regina hasn't shown up downstairs all day. She's been caught.

"Is Leopold gonna cut her meat for her, too? Stir her coffee? Lace her corsets?" Ruby asks with a raised eyebrow, and Cora scoffs, looks away and barks at the waiter to bring them some wine while they wait.

"I don't believe we've met," she says then, and it takes Robin a few seconds before he realizes her words are directed at him.

"Apologies," he replies politely, though his body is shaking with the need to yell at this woman and tell her how much damage she's caused in her wonderful daughter, how utterly heartless she's been by treating her like this, but he continues with "Robin Locksley, at your service," instead and takes her gloved hand, shaking it slowly, gently. He doesn't kiss it, refuses to do so, not to her.

"There you are!" Ruby announces, "what took you so long? I know Leopold is old but he can still walk at a decent pace, can he not?"

"Ah, quite the fun little quip, that one," Leopold says, though he has yet to smile, "I wasn't expecting you at our table, Ms. Lucas."

"Yes, well, it seems at some point we all must suffer each other," Ruby bites back, unfazed. Regina is just behind, blocked from Robin's view by Leopold's frame, but when his eyes finally settle on her, he's mesmerized.

The gown she's wearing is covered in layers of a shimmery, see-through material in dark gray, cinched at her side with a brooch and covered in a pattern of silver beading that seems to go around and around over every layer, enveloping her figure and ending in an asymmetrical line a good few inches above the bottom of the skirt, showcasing a train of the pale salmon fabric underneath. The same silvery embellishments are dusted along her neckline and short sleeves, and she's wearing long, silk gloves of the purest ivory color. Her hair is up, held together by silver pins, but there are a few stubborn tendrils that have escaped their confines, hanging loose around her face and making her look even lovelier, because they're the one thing in the entire ensemble that is rebellious and unique, just like her. She is a vision, but all that fades away the second Robin catches sight of her face.

She looks hurt, hurt and subdued and not at all like herself as she walks to the table and takes a seat, not even looking up at her companions, and Robin clenches his fists hard, knuckles going white as he watches her quietly murmur a greeting to Ruby, whom she's sat next to. That man has done something to her, has scared her and probably physically hurt her again, and Robin has a hard time staying still, wants nothing more than to take one of the many fancy knives set by his plate and stab Leopold with it.

"And who might your friend be?" the man himself asks, looking Robin up and down with equal parts contempt and curiosity.

"Oh, woops! Sorry, I keep forgetting to introduce you to people," Ruby says good-naturedly to Robin, placing a hand on his arm and squeezing, bringing him out of his rage and back to the situation at hand, "my friend, this is Leopold Blanchard," she tells him slowly, "Leopold, meet Robin Locksley."

At the mention of his name, Regina's eyes snap up, widening in fear when they find his face.

"Hello," Robin says to the older man, not really paying him any mind as he answers Regina's intense stare with one of his own.

"Ah, yes," Leopold says when he sees Robin's attention drift towards her, "this is my lovely wife—"

"Fiancé," Regina interrupts almost automatically, and there's a flash of something in Leopold's eyes, brief enough to go unnoticed by the others at the table, but Robin sees it, sees the deranged promise that she'll pay for making that correction.

"Fine, then, my lovely _fiancé_, Regina Mills," the man finishes, gesturing towards her, his eyes on Robin, "may I inquire what it is you do for a living, Mr. Locksley?"

"Of course you may," Robin replies, but doesn't elaborate, turning to Regina and offering his hand to her, "Miss Mills, lovely to meet you."

She's quiet, stunned into silence at finding him here, and she looks from him to Ruby, questioning him. Now that he's close, he can tell she's been crying, and he wants so badly to hold her that it causes a physical ache in his chest.

Their waiter for the evening arrives then, offering them each a menu. Robin balks at the options presented to him. Lamb in mint sauce, roast duckling with apples, oysters, caviar, foie gras, chartreube jelly… none of these sound even remotely edible, and he snickers as he remembers Regina's comment from the night before.

"Something amusing?" Cora asks from over her menu.

"Not really," he says, then sneaks a glance at Regina, "it's just that, well, I'd take a good plate of beef and potatoes over all this ridiculous French food any day."

He's quoting her, word for word, and the comment has the desired effect on her, making her smile at him. It's small, and she's still submissive, fearful, but she smiles nonetheless, and it's all for him.

"Hear, hear," says Ruby, not catching on to the exchange between them, "seriously, 'salmon in mousseline sauce'? Who eats that?!"

"It's quite the delicacy," Cora intrudes, "the kind of food reserved for very… _educated_ palates."

"Well, then," Ruby says as she turns to the waiter, "go ask the chef if he can whip up some chicken or a steak or something less pretentious, and do tell him it's for my _uneducated_ palate, would you?"

"I'd like the same," Robin intervenes, and then, just to rile Cora up further, "and some bread would be nice."

"Yes, bring all the bread, too, and butter!" Ruby agrees, and Regina's trying very hard not to giggle, looking down at her napkin on her lap, and Robin loves that he's able to get this reaction out of her, that even as she's sitting there, sad and under threat of her mother and fiancé, he can still get her to laugh.

The rest of the evening goes on without much incident, they eat (something pasty and served in tiny portions for the fancy palate people, the lamb for Regina –per Cora's choice, not hers-, and juicy sirloin with buttery herbed potatoes for Robin and Ruby), they make small talk, Cora subtly demeans Ruby, and Ruby sasses her right back. Robin is amused at the way they can mask insults behind polite smiles, but then he sets his gaze on Regina, on the way Leopold is muttering at her to eat her food and then head straight back to her room, and his anger flares.

"So, Mr. Locksley, is it? How do you know Ms. Lucas?" Cora's question draws his attention away from the man he wants so desperately to maim, and Robin exhales slowly before looking back at her.

"We slept together in the cargo bay last night," Ruby supplies, and Regina snorts as Robin chokes on his food, Cora's eyes wide as saucers.

"What she means to say is, we have some friends in common," Robin tells the woman, "there is no romantic entanglement whatsoever."

He says the last part looking directly at Regina, trying to ease her mind from whatever dark thoughts Ruby's comment must have sparked in her head, but he needn't have, as it seems Regina knows Ruby's brand of humor by now, and has taken her words for the joke that they are. She's covering her mouth with her hand, eyes downcast even as she shakes with mute laughter.

"Friends in common? Would I know them?" Cora continues.

"I highly doubt that," Ruby answers, but the woman insists.

"Maybe Leopold does? He knows quite a lot of people."

"Yes, I happen to have business acquaintances all over the world, maybe I've come upon these common friends of yours in my travels?"

"Our friends are a small, very selective bunch, they usually reserve their company for a few… _deserving_ candidates," Robin intervenes, an edge to his voice as he regards Leopold.

"I insist you let me know who they are, I assure you it's quite possible I'm acquainted with them," the man insists, oblivious to Ruby and Robin's derision, so Robin takes the lead, winks at Ruby before the others notice it and proceeds.

"Well, there's Mr. Cadd. He's… Hungarian," he lies to explain the strange name.

"Cadd?"

"Yes, he's quite the personality in our circle," Robin continues, hardly able to contain his smirk now.

"Hmm… Cadd… what's his first name, I wonder?"

"Imanold."

"Imanold Cadd... huh… can't say it rings a bell."

Ruby snorts into her wine when she hears the name, mutters "I see what you did there," near Robin's ear. Regina's almost wheezing out a laugh over on her end of the table, though no one but Robin seems to notice. He likes this, likes that she gets his humor, even if his humor is something closer to Henry's age than to his own.

"Something funny, darling?" Leopold asks his fiancé when he finally catches on to her display of amusement, but Regina merely fakes a cough as she shakes her head, tells him the wine is just a little too strong, and goes back to staring at Ruby and Robin, eyes wide in a silent plea for them to stop messing with the others before they get her in trouble. Robin relents, goes back to his food while Regina picks at hers, Ruby throwing glances between them and shaking her head in bemused exasperation.

"Will you be taking any dessert tonight, ladies? Gentlemen?" the waiter asks when he stops by their table a while later. Robin sees that Regina has half a mind to order something, but Cora shuts her down with a look and a "remember you have a wedding dress to fit into, dear," and again, his rage ignites at the way she's treated, the way she's not allowed to voice her thoughts or laugh freely or even order her own goddamn food. He lets his fork land on his plate with a clatter, earning himself a scornful tut from Cora, but he doesn't acknowledge her, merely turns to Ruby and reaches for the pen and paper he'd stored in her bag before they left Emma's room. Balancing the small square of stationary on his thigh under the table, he scribbles a note and folds the paper over and over, until it's small enough that it fits in his hand while remaining hidden from prying eyes.

"Right, well, it's time I headed back to my chambers. Mrs. Mills, Mr. Blanchard, it's been quite, uh… well, it's been _something_… meeting you," he says as he stands up and looks around their table, then walks straight to Regina, ignoring the offended scoff Cora gives him, taking Regina's gloved hand in his and bringing it to his lips, staring into her eyes all the while, "Ms. Mills, it was an absolute delight to dine with you."

As he slowly lets go of her hand, he makes sure the tiny paper is tucked between her fingers inconspicuously. She frowns at the unexpected item, but clutches it in her hand as she brings it back down to her lap, wishing Robin a good night in that polite, practiced tone of hers.

He turns to smile at Ruby and thank her for tonight, and she in turn thanks him for livening up her otherwise dull evening. He bends down to kiss her cheek affectionately.

"Really, thank you," he whispers in her ear.

"No problem, now go wait for her, I'll distract the two idiots for a while," she whispers back.

Robin waits by the clock on the grand staircase, just as he said he would in the note he left for Regina, and not ten minutes have passed before he sees her making her way over to him.

"What are you doing here?!" she gasps out the question he's sure she's been wanting to ask since she saw him at their table, her mouth agape in disbelief.

"I had to see you, make sure you were alright," he shrugs.

"I'm okay," she replies, though the light that radiates from within her seems to dim when she says it.

"No, you're not, I can see it in your eyes, Regina. They're on to you, aren't they?"

"They don't know about you, or Roland or Emma and Henry, I made sure of that. As far as they're concerned, I was just taking a walk down there as an act of defiance or something. I thought Leopold's man had seen us when you walked me to B-Deck but thankfully he hasn't said anything, so I suppose we weren't caught. Lucky for me."

"Lucky? Regina, they're terrible to you."

"I'm okay," she says again, "and I don't want you to rescue me, so if that's what you think you're here to do, then—" her words are cut off by his hand as it settles gently on her arm when she turns to leave.

"No!" he urges, "please, don't go. I'm sorry, I was just worried."

"Robin, honestly, I'm alright."

"Alright enough to sneak downstairs one more time?"

"Oh, no. Nope, not happening."

"Please?" he begs, knowing he must look like a kicked puppy right now with his lip sticking out in a pout and his eyes pleading as they stare at her. God, she's beautiful.

"They'll catch me... catch _you_!"

"I'll get on my knees right now and beg in front of all these people if I have to, Regina."

That gets her to laugh, a soft giggle as she looks back at him.

"You're crazy!" she mutters with an amazed shake of her head, but she's still smiling at him, and he knows he has her.

"Come on, let's go have some fun."

"You mean more than the wild dinner party we just had?" she asks sarcastically, and _there she is_, he thinks, loving the sight of that fire back in her eyes, her sassy grin and the traitorous blush on her cheeks.

"Oh, you've seen nothing yet, lovely," he teases. She thinks for a moment, hesitant again as she looks back to the table, where her captors –because that is what they are, Robin realizes— are sipping brandy with Ruby and an older gentleman who's just taken Regina's vacated chair. Finally, she seems to make up her mind, and those stray locks of hair that frame her face fly as she turns her head back to him quickly and takes his offered arm.

"Alright, Mr. Locksley, whisk me away," she says with a wink, and he almost groans at the sexy smirk she gives him, the warmth of her touch doing things to him even as they walk out of the dining saloon and make their way down to the third class areas, making sure to stay within the darker passages and emptier corridors so as not to draw too much attention to themselves. They reach Emma's room a few minutes later, and he turns to her and holds both her hands in his.

"I need to get out of this ridiculous outfit, I can't even breathe properly," he says, jerking his head to the side, trying to ease the choking feeling of the tight collar of the shirt.

"Too bad," she says from under her lashes, "it suits you."

"Why, Ms. Mills, are you flirting with me?" he quips, and she laughs, full-on and with her head thrown back, her hands leaving his and finding his chest to support herself.

"Maybe," she says when her laughter has subsided, her hands still on his chest, playing with the buttons of his coat.

"You're incredible, you know that?" he tells her, meaning every word. It's unbelievable that only two days have passed since he's known her and now he can't imagine not being near her.

"Go change, you flatterer, you promised me a party."

"Of course, milady," he says in a mock-serious tone as he fishes Emma's key out of his pocket and inserts it in the lock, gesturing for her to go in.

"I don't think I should."

"It's only for a few minutes while I get my clothes back on. Emma won't mind, I promise."

She nods after a moment, and steps into the room, taking a seat on the small chair by the door while he gathers his clothes and walks into the bathroom. He emerges not five minutes after, wearing his old trousers and shirt and feeling way more comfortable, and he sees her gliding her hand along an old book in Henry's bed.

"He likes fairytales," Robin tells her, then clarifies when she frowns at him in confusion, "Henry. He likes fairytales, Emma told me he's obsessed and needs her to read him at least three every night before bed."

"He's such a sweet boy."

"Don't tell him that, he insists on acting like a grown up in front of us. It's quite amusing."

"Growing up is overrated," she says, her tone scornful.

"I agree, I want Roland to be a kid for as long as possible."

"You're a good father," she tells him for the second time in as many nights, and he beams at her, feeling a surge of pride at earning that compliment from her.

"Right," he says after a few silent moments pass, "ready for that party now?"

"Lead the way, Locksley," she taunts.

"Follow me, Mills," he replies, then heads out and waits for her by the door, locking it after she's joined him and taking her hand as he pulls her down the hall, back to the common area designated for steerage passengers, where the loud blast and merriment of folk music can be heard even from several corridors away.

"Look, mom, they're here!" Henry pipes up from where he sits in a bench with Emma, and he runs over to them, greeting Regina with a big, toothy smile.

"You came back!" he says excitedly.

"I did," she chuckles, ruffling his hair.

"I wanted to go with Robin, but Ruby didn't have a suit that would fit me so we could fool the crew," he pouts, and Regina smiles at him, crouching down in front of him and looking into his eyes.

"You didn't miss much, the food was awful," she says, giving him a wink, "I didn't even get to have dessert."

"That's terrible!" he gasps, and she laughs at his reaction.

"I know, but no matter, I'm here now, and Robin promised me a fun night."

"I'll go get Roland!" he says and runs off. Regina then looks at Robin.

"So, your friends in common?" she asks, catching on to his and Ruby's earlier shenanigans.

"Emma and Ruby know each other from the orphanage, Ruby got her and Henry the tickets for this trip so they could go to America with her."

"Oh, she never mentioned anything."

"Why would she? These friends of ours are a very exclusive bunch, remember?" he jokes, making her laugh again, and oh, how he loves that sound.

Henry chooses that moment to reappear with Roland at his side.

"Regina!" he screams, barreling himself into her legs.

"Hi, Roland," she says as she bends down to take him into her arms and hoist him on her hip, and Robin's chest floods with warmth at the sight.

"Hey, what about a hello to your papa?! You haven't seen me in _hours_," he tells his son in mock-jealousy, and Roland giggles at him and reaches out a hand to Robin's cheek.

"But I haven't seen Regina since _yesterday_!" he says, as if that's enough explanation as to why she deserves his attention more than his own father, and Robin huffs. Regina giggles into Roland's hair, planting a kiss on the boy's temple, and Robin feels that foolish, lovesick grin show up on his face again, one that she returns as she rocks Roland gently from one side to the other.

"Papa, do you want a huggle?" Roland asks knowingly, and Robin can't stop the guffaw that escapes him even his son climbs off of Regina's embrace and into his open arms, clutching at his neck as Robin locks his wrists behind the boy's legs and shakes him vigorously from side to side just as John joins their party.

"Regina, come dance with me!" Henry intervenes then, just as the band starts playing a very upbeat song that they all seem to know but her, and Robin smiles at her hesitation.

"I… I don't know how," she admits, and Henry just laughs, shakes his head, and tells her he'll teach her, grabbing her hand and bringing her to the dance floor with him. His head barely reaches her stomach, and his hands are grabbing both of hers as he moves them around the floor.

"Oh, that is pathetic," John murmurs before offering a hand to Emma, "come on, let's show that kid of yours how it's done."

Emma gladly accepts his offer, and they join the other two on the floor, John spinning Emma around and making a show of it, which only makes Henry jostle Regina even more as he moves her faster and faster, and Robin has half a mind to tell the boy to slow down, lest Regina becomes dizzy from the way he's spinning her around, but then he catches sight of her face, of the giddy shouts and lovely laughter erupting from her as she moves amongst the crowd, her hair coming undone little by little as she skips around with Henry, and he realizes she's having the time of her life out there. He lets out a chuckle as he is once again struck by how beautiful and special she is, and then looks down at his son, who is staring at the same woman, but with a pout on his face.

"What's wrong, my boy?" he asks, and Roland stomps his foot on the floor as he mutters that _he_ wanted to dance with Regina.

"Well, then, go ask her," he encourages, and Roland's eyes widen.

"But she's dancing with Henry!"

"Maybe she'll dance with both of you. Go, I'm sure she'll want you to ask her," he says in response. It's enough to get the little boy going, and Robin watches him run off towards Henry and Regina, watches her bend down to lift Roland into her arms and then hold him against her hip with one as she stretches out the other to take Henry's hand again, and the three of them twirl and jump around without rhythm, and something shifts in Robin as he takes in the scene before him, something that has him wanting to hold on to Regina and never let go.

"Look at you all smitten," Emma teases as she rejoins him at the bench.

"No use denying it now, is there?"

"Nope," the blonde agrees with a small shake of her head and a laugh, "have you told her?"

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Even if she wanted to be with me, it would ruin her, I can't do that to her, I can't ask her to uproot her life for me. Especially when we've only just met."

"Well, I'll admit it's a little fast, but when you know, you know, right?"

"Emma, I can't."

"What if she _does_ want to be with you? Are you just going to take that choice away from her?"

"I…" he trails off, realizing that she's right, that if he doesn't give Regina the option, he'd be just as bad as the people she was so desperate to get away from.

"Look, in my experience, if you find someone you're willing to ruin your entire life for, it's always worth it." There's a kind smile on her face, some understanding in her eyes that tells him there's more to her statement, but he doesn't question it, doesn't ask for more, because she's right.

He nods his thanks, then gets up and walks towards the heartwarming sight in front of him, Regina oblivious to his approach as she puts Roland down and grabs his hand, continues to spin them around and laugh and laugh.

"May I have this dance, milady?" he asks when he reaches her, startling her and bringing her to a stop. Henry grins and winks at Robin, then whispers something in Roland's ear that has the boy's eyes shining with mischief as they leave them to it, and Robin suddenly finds himself battling his own nerves as he offers a hand to her. She takes it, no hesitation or second thoughts this time, only her beautiful smile and a slight hitch in her breath as she looks into his eyes and lets him lead her a little bit further away, to an empty spot where they're able to move more freely, picking up the fast pace from the song that's playing and drawing that beautiful laugh out of her again, and it's when they're breathless and looking at each other, with panting breaths and huge smiles, that Robin touches her face, his fingers ghosting over her skin tentatively at first, then cupping her cheek when she pushes her body closer to his and stares at his lips. He's lost in her, in her scent and her smile and those dark eyes that ignite something in him.

They've stopped moving now, barely a few inches of space between them as they look at each other, and Regina's still smiling innocently at him, giddy and excited and absolutely gorgeous.

"Are you having fun?" he asks, his voice a mere whisper that washes over her, and her eyes drift shut as he speaks, her tongue coming out to wet her lips as she nods. He leans closer to her then, his lips by her ear as he breathes a simple "good" and then he's grabbing her hands and spinning her away from him before she can even figure out what's happening, and the surprised yelp she gives him has to be one of the most endearing things he's ever heard. She's giggling again, and then Roland jumps back into their midst, demands to be picked up by his father, and then they're dancing, Regina pulled close to him as her arm snakes around Roland's frame where he's perched on Robin's waist, all three of them forming an awkward circle as they go round and round, his son's laughter filling his ears, Regina's beaming smile clouding his vision, and Robin has not felt this happy in years.

Ruby joins them about an hour later, tells Robin and Regina that Cora and Leopold stayed in the saloon, talking to a Mr. Gold, and that they should be there for a while. After a quick chat with Regina that Robin isn't privy to, his new friend indulges in a few dances with Henry, joining them on the floor. It's exhilarating to have Regina so close to him, the warmth of her soft hand in his eliciting the most pleasant of sensations throughout his entire body, but all too soon, the band leaves and their night comes to an end, and they say goodbye down here this time, Ruby insisting she and Regina will make their way back up together and make sure to gush to other first class passengers about their "spontaneous walk around the deck" to cover their tracks.

It is when Ruby goes to find Henry and Emma to say good night that Robin looks down and realizes he's still holding Regina's hand, but she doesn't seem to mind, her grip tightening when she notices where his gaze has drifted to.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks.

"You," he admits with a sheepish smile, "I'm so glad you came here tonight."

"As am I," she tells him, "thanks for the dance."

"Anytime, milady," he says, grinning like an idiot when her thumb begins to softly caress his hand. He ducks his head and plants a tiny kiss on her cheek, wishes her a good night, and then lets her go, their hands parting reluctantly from each other before she joins Ruby and they make their way out.

He goes to bed that night determined to find a way around the obstacles, determined to show her how much he'll care for her heart if she entrusts it to him.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Robin wakes with the sun, and after having breakfast with Roland and John, he heads to Emma's room to pick up the suit he left there the night before, puts it on and makes his way back up to first class. The crew stares at him with curiosity, probably wondering what he's doing in dinner attire at eight in the morning, but they don't question him, merely welcome him and let him prance around the corridors like he belongs there. It takes him a moment to find the dining room again, the deck looking slightly different in the daytime than it did last night, but he finds it, makes his way down the impressive staircase once more, and settles in a small table somewhat hidden behind one of the giant pillars that hold the place together.<p>

He feels her presence before he even sets eyes on her, and looks up in time to see her walking down the stairs and to the table they'd sat in the night before. She sips her juice as her mother prattles on, Leopold nowhere to be seen. When Cora gets up for a moment, Robin seizes his chance.

"Come with me," he mutters behind her as he touches her shoulder, making her whirl her head around and give a little scream.

"Robin!" she gasped, "you frightened me."

"I'll apologize later, come with me," he says again, and steals her away, making her weave through one corridor and then the next, until they reach a locked door.

"The gymnasium, it doesn't open for another hour," she tells him, and he has to think fast because he knows they only have a few minutes, so he gently takes one of the pins from her hair and shoves it in the lock, moving it this way and that until he hears a faint click, and he opens the door quickly and drags her in with him, closing it behind them.

"Okay now you're really scaring me, what's going on? Is Roland okay? Henry?!"

"Everyone's fine, I just needed to see you."

"Robin," she sighs when his hand comes up to rest against her cheek, "we can't do this."

"Yes, we can."

"I'm engaged."

"You don't want to be."

"What I want doesn't matter, Leopold is going to be my husband, we can't do this," she repeats.

"Regina, I know it's crazy. Hell, we've only known each other for two days, but I… I want to be with you, and I think you feel the same way about me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she says with an off-handed tone, trying to play this off as no big deal, but the way her breathing quickens gives her away.

He lets out an exasperated huff, but says nothing, because then he's placing his hands on either side of her face and bringing their foreheads together, and her head tilts so that her lips can place an impromptu kiss on the tip of his nose, and the tenderness in the gesture rattles him. Her lips then drop to hover over his, breaths mingling as they close their eyes, but before he can kiss her, she's backing away, her eyes looking all over his face in a panic.

"This isn't wrong, you deserve to be happy, don't let them win," he begs.

"Robin—"

"Look, I'm not daft, I know how the world works, and I know that what little I can offer you is nothing compared to the kind of life you have now, but—"

"You know I don't care about that," she interrupts, fire blazing in her eyes.

"Then don't let them stop you. Defy your mother, fight for yourself, for what _you_ want."

"I can't do that, Robin," she tells him as tears start to fall.

"Yes, you can! And I'll be there fighting right alongside you. You jump, I jump, remember?"

"You don't know what they're capable of! My father died and left us penniless, marrying Leopold is the only way I can keep my mother out of the poor house. Don't you understand? She won't stop until she gets her way, there's no escape for me."

"Of course there is! It's not your responsibility to provide for your mother, especially not after the way she's treated you. You deserve better than to be a puppet for her schemes."

"She's my mother, Robin, I can't just leave."

"Listen, they've got you trapped in a toxic situation, and you'll die if you don't break free. Maybe not right away because you're strong, but soon," he says as he cups her cheek again, bringing their faces so close together that he can feel her ragged breath on his cheek, "soon, that fire that I love about you, Regina, it's gonna burn out. I can't bear to see that happen."

She's scared of his words, of what he's asking her to do, he can see it in the way she recoils from his touch and turns towards the door, hastily opening it and walking away without so much as a glance back. She leaves him there, and the shaky "this ends here, leave me alone," she throws at him before she runs off cuts like a knife through his very soul.

* * *

><p><em><strong>That hurt, I know. Please don't hate me.<strong>_

_**See you soon for chapter 6!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A lot of you have been waiting for this particular bit so I hope it lives up to your expectations and that you all enjoy =)**_

* * *

><p>If anyone had told her a week ago that this is what her life would turn into, Regina would've laughed. But here she was, stuck in a ship in the middle of the North Atlantic with a man she was developing feelings for and a mother and fiancé who would stop at nothing to quash her spirit.<p>

She was supposed to be dead, none of this was supposed to happen. But it had.

She was falling for Robin fast and hard, that much was obvious, and the fact that she had been so caught up in him had made her sloppy, and now she'd been found out.

Thankfully, Sidney hadn't told Cora or Leopold about Robin, whether that was because he hadn't actually seen them together or because he wanted something from her in return, Regina did not know, but she was relieved all the same, she would never forgive herself if something happened to Robin or Roland.

She'd convinced Leopold that she'd simply woken up earlier than usual and fancied a walk. Offhandedly added that she'd wound up in the third class recreation room, and that that's where she'd met "a lovely old lady" who made the drawings for her. He hadn't even bothered to look at the artwork before he'd torn it to pieces, so he hadn't seen Roland's face on the paper, which saved her from having to explain or make up more excuses. If she'd had to give more details, Leopold would've picked up on her fondness for the people she's met downstairs, so keeping her story vague and uninteresting was her best bet.

He hadn't completely bought the "I just needed some fresh air" excuse, however, the bruises on her arm where he grabbed her out of anger could attest to that. It never escalated from there, though, as it seems Leopold has realized now that the marks of his possessiveness on her skin would be visible to everyone in first class if he isn't careful.

But none of that stopped him from making her miserable. Once he'd calmed down enough to speak, he'd seethed that she was forbidden from walking around any part of the ship that wasn't designated to first class, and that he'd be keeping a close eye on her. He'd made sure to emphasize on the fact that once they get to New York, he has plans to "train" her to be a better wife, and the comment had made bile rise in Regina's throat as she fought back the tears.

He'd left her there, slamming the door behind him and telling her he'd see her at breakfast, not bothering to look back at her as she'd fallen to her knees on the floor and gathered the ripped pieces of Roland's drawing and the sketches Robin had given her. Her mother had walked into her room then, waited for Regina to stand up, and had then slapped her. Without a single word, Cora had picked her daughter's outfit for the day (a long sleeved dress to hide the bruises), helped her get dressed –tying her corset with a little too much force and making Regina wince every few seconds as the tightening laces restricted her breathing— and firmly gripped her elbow as they headed to breakfast together. By the time they'd made it to the restaurant, the mark of Cora's hand on her cheek had faded, so they put on their mother-daughter act with no one the wiser.

Regina had noticed Ruby trying to get her attention, but hadn't dared speak to her for fear she'd anger her mother further and earn herself another slap, so after quick greetings and an hour of picking at her food, she'd been excused to go back to her room, where she'd cried for what felt like hours, folded into herself on her bed as the sun rose higher and higher and then began to sink into the horizon.

But after a day of being heartbroken and isolated, things had taken a turn. She'd gone through the motions of getting dressed for dinner, donning long gloves to cover her fiancé's handiwork, had put her long hair up and secured it with silver pins, and then absently walked out of her rooms and down the grand staircase in Leopold's arm. It was shaping up to be a terrible night, just like any other, but then something had startled her, changed the course of her evening completely.

Robin was there.

Apparently he and Ruby knew each other, and she'd invited him to dine with them. Cora and Leopold never found out where he was joining them _from_, but still weren't pleased with him, and for some reason that had made a surge of anger zip through Regina, because how _dare_ they throw judgment and sneers at this amazing man?

That's when she'd known she was having feelings for Robin. She'd wanted to protect him from the bitterness of her world, because he'd believed in her from the start, had shown her kindness and affection, and he deserved far better than her mother's ridiculous comments and Leopold's contempt.

But Robin had brushed off every single slight as if it were nothing, only showing his dislike of them when they'd directed their venom at Regina instead, and the fact that he'd seemed to feel as protective of her as she is of him, along with his silly attempts at humor, had served to calm her nerves.

She'd been wallowing in her own shame, lost in her thoughts after another of her fiancé's colorful displays of disdain that she hadn't noticed Robin get up from the table until he'd walked over to her and taken her hand. He'd placed a kiss on her knuckles over the silk of her glove and dropped a note there, making sure the others wouldn't see the tiny piece of paper, and then he'd left, and she had missed him instantly.

"Right, you guys think we could get Gold over here? I have a lot of money to spend and I'd like to discuss potential ventures in New York with him and with you, Leopold, if you have the time," Ruby had said, and Regina had frowned at her, because this wasn't like Ruby, this wasn't like her at all. But then her friend had jerked her head at her, widening her eyes as she looked at her hand in a not-so-subtle way of asking her to read the note Robin had left her, and Regina had found herself smiling as she did.

_Ruby's been kind enough to help entertain these buffoons while I whisk you away._

_Care to join me by the clock, milady?_

_-R_

She'd considered it, but what if something went wrong? What if they got caught? What if…?

A wink from Ruby was all she'd needed, and in seconds she'd been bidding her table companions good night and claiming that business talks were too out of her area of expertise, so she'd be withdrawing to her rooms to get some sleep instead.

It had taken some sweet words from Robin to make her lose her apprehension completely, but she'd agreed to go with him, had wanted to since the beginning, and she'd danced with Henry and laughed at his attempts to teach her the steps, had engaged in a bit of a dance competition with him against Emma and John, had held Roland close and twirled both boys around to the upbeat rhythm echoing around them while Robin watched with a fond smile on his face, and she had loved it.

He'd asked her to dance after a while, and oh, how they'd danced. His gentle touch and steady movements had made her feel like she was floating, and then he'd made her laugh and laugh as he spun her around in circles to the music. And when the beat had gotten faster and they'd been too tired to keep up, they'd slowed to a lazy sway despite the quick steps of everyone around them, and he'd held her close and let their breaths mingle in the little bubble they'd cocooned themselves into. It had been like a dream, a lovely dream she never wanted to wake up from.

Ruby had joined them a while later, promising Regina that Leopold and Cora were too busy with Gold to even think of her whereabouts, that she'd be alright for another half hour or so… and then she'd taken Regina aside and she'd said it.

"He has feelings for you, you know. Robin, I mean."

"Ruby, we've known each other for two days."

"So? He cares, and he believes in you, in letting you spread your wings. You need that, Regina, you need that freedom."

"It would never work out, mother would never approve," she'd insisted, much to Ruby's exasperation.

"To hell with Cora… and to hell with Leopold, for that matter. Give yourself a break for _once_ and just do what _you_ want to do, don't let them get the best of you."

"I—"

"Look, we could argue about this all night, but right now, I owe Henry a dance, and there's a very handsome British man waiting to dance with _you_, so I say you get back over there and enjoy yourself," she'd smirked at her then, nudging her in the direction of said handsome British man, and Regina had not been able to argue any further, had joined Robin once more and let him lead the movements of their bodies.

More than once, she'd found herself getting lost in his eyes, in the sweetness of his words, in the ease of his smile, and there was a time when she would've told herself that none of this was attainable to her, that she was to follow her mother's orders as she always had, that things like love and hope were worthless delusions of a life she'd never have, but in those stolen moments, with Robin's arms around her and the warmth of his body radiating into hers, Regina had allowed herself to believe in the possibility of a happy ending, and it had lifted her spirits in ways nothing else ever had.

The illusion had ended quickly, however, disappearing into the cold air as she'd walked away from him and the others and headed back to her room, Ruby making sure to tell the many first class acquaintances they'd run into that she and Regina had found each other on the deck and decided to walk together. Thankfully, Cora and Leopold seemed to still be downstairs, so she'd changed quickly and gone to bed before their return.

She'd fallen asleep as she'd thought of Henry's adorable smile, and Roland's dimples, and the ghost of Robin's lips on her cheek where he'd kissed her goodnight.

The next morning, she's relieved to find out Leopold is nursing a hangover and won't make it to breakfast, so she and her mother make their way to the saloon and sit together. Cora leaves her to exchange greetings with some wealthy woman, and Regina has a few bites of her food before she's startled by someone caressing her shoulder. She turns to find Robin there, looking every bit as enticing and kissable in his borrowed suit as he did the night before.

He steals her away again, and they end up hiding in the gymnasium, the only private spot in all of first class at the moment, since it's closed for another hour or so. There's an uneasiness about him, some sense of urgency that frightens her, so she asks about Roland, about Henry, thinking something may have happened to them, but he shakes his head, assures her that they're all fine, that he just wanted to see her.

"Robin, we can't do this," she tells him, even as she leans into his touch when he cradles her cheek in his hand. He insists that yes, they can, and with every excuse she gives him, he fires back encouragement, voices that he wants to be with her, has feelings for her despite the short time they've known each other. She can't believe what she's hearing, can't fathom that he'd want her, damaged as she is, but he does, she can see the conviction in his eyes as he begs her to defy her mother, to break free of the invisible chains she and Leopold have tied around her, so when he grabs her face and brings it close to his, she can't help herself, drops a kiss on the tip of his nose, lets them breathe the same air for a moment before she backs away, asking him to stop this, telling him she can't escape her fate. He counters that she can, that he'll help her, that if she jumps, he does too, and it makes it impossible to fight back the tears as she spills everything, how her marriage is Cora's way of securing themselves another fortune, how she can't possibly escape from her ruthless mother when her ridiculous goal of making them rich again is within her grasp.

_You'll die if you don't break free_, he tells her when she refuses to give in to her own desires, and she knows that his statement is true, has been resigned to that outcome for a while now, but he's only just met her, so he hasn't had the time to understand that this is what her existence has always led up to.

She leaves him with a heartbroken expression on his face as she mutters that they're done, and she wants nothing more than to turn back and throw her arms around him and tell him that she wants him, too, that what she feels for him is stronger than anything she's ever felt for anyone before, but she can't, she has to stay away to ensure that he doesn't get dragged into her mess of a life, and so she runs, tries to convince herself that it's for the best, and then she sobs into her pillow when she finally reaches her compartments.

It isn't until late afternoon that she emerges from seclusion. She'd claimed another headache and avoided lunch with her mother and Leopold, but now he's insisted she join him and a few others for a guided tour of the ship with Captain Jones while Cora has tea with the older ladies, so she puts on the clothes laid out for her by her maids and leaves the safety of her bedroom.

Her dress has a cream lace top and a blue satin skirt that flows to the floor, with a blue velvet jacket with embroidered satin lapels to match the skirt draped over her form, ending at mid-thigh and adorned with a blue satin sash on her waist that ties it all together. The shiny waves of her hair cascade down her back, with only half of them held up in a loose bun at the back of her head, and everyone comments on how lovely she looks, but she can't bring herself to acknowledge the compliments. In fact, she feels terrible, because all she can think of is Robin, the sadness in his eyes as she'd left him, his pleading voice and the way his thumbs had desperately rubbed over her cheekbones.

Captain Jones is telling Leopold how sturdy the ship is, that Titanic is nigh unsinkable and a technological marvel far ahead of her time, rambling about speed and machinery in terms that Regina is sure no one in their party really understands, but they all follow the man along the corridors, let him prattle on and nod with their heads held high as if they know exactly what he's talking about.

When they stop to admire yet another part of the structure she has no interest in learning about, Regina takes a moment to try and calm her frazzled nerves. She has no energy for this, the frustrating, monotonous misery of her life clouding her thoughts, and it isn't until she no longer hears the captain's voice that she realizes her group has left her, walked on while she remained by the rails, staring absently out into the open water.

It's a welcome break, a moment alone and away from the insufferable company she's endured for the better part of an hour now, so she takes a few minutes to simply breathe, and then walks aimlessly around the boat deck, silent tears falling down her face. She knows she should probably not be crying in public, knows her mother would have a fit if she's seen like this by anyone that matters, but Regina can't bring herself to care anymore, and simply continues to walk like a ghost amongst the other passengers, not even stopping to greet the ones she knows.

This is how Roland finds her when he collides with her, his mop of brown curls tumbling around him as he loses his balance and is caught in her arms before he crashes to the floor.

"Roland?"

"Regina? Regina! Hi! I didn't see you," he says as he untangles himself from her grasp and gets a good look at her. She's on her knees now, staring at his face, at the dimples that appear when he smiles at her, and she is so heavily reminded of his father that she can't control the tears as they spill more abundantly from her eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asks with a pout when she starts to sob, and she shakes her head, tries to stop this embarrassing display because she knows she's scaring him.

"I'm alright, sweetheart, it's fine," she assures him, but he's not buying it, too smart a child to be fooled by her pathetic attempts at pretending to be okay. He hugs her, and she expects him to shake her into one of those energetic 'huggles' that he believes can magically fix anything, but he surprises her, wrapping his arms tightly around her neck and squeezing, just like he did two nights ago, when he'd wanted to show them that he could hug like grown-ups did.

"It's okay," he tells her as he pats her upper back, "you can stay with us again, and papa and I will take care of you."

And they would, she knows they would, and Robin's words resonate in her head as she hugs Roland back.

"_I know that what little I can offer you is nothing compared to the kind of life you have now, but—"_

She'd stopped his speech before he could continue, in part because she doesn't care that he has no money, she never has, and in part because she'd already known what words would follow that 'but'. _But_ she would be free. _But _he would not abuse her. _But_ he would cherish her, _love_ her, make her happy...

"Come play with me? We can go find Uncle John. And maybe Henry will want to play, too!" Roland's excited offer startles her back into the present, and it's crazy because it's only been days, but one look into Roland's adorable face, one flash of hope of being able to see his endearing smile for days on end, of being held in Robin's arms while they do something mundane like cooking breakfast or watching his son sleep, and it's enough. More than that, it's everything.

She realizes then that Robin is right, that she cannot go on like this, especially not now that she's met all these wonderful people who actually care for her. And so, after years of believing her life does not belong to her, Regina finally decides that _yes, it does_, decides to get out from under her mother's thumb, to escape the impending miserable marriage she's been roped into and seek out what _she_ wants instead. For the first time in her life, Regina chooses to follow her heart.

"Roland, I need to see your father."

The boy must hear the determination in her voice, because next thing she knows, he's dragging her across the deck, all the way to the bow of the ship, where she spots John and Emma sitting on a bench nearby, all smiles and friendly banter. Roland runs to them, Regina trailing behind him.

"You came back," Emma muses when she sees her.

"You sound surprised," Regina replies.

"Not at all. In fact, I was betting on it," she says before turning to John and extending her hand to him, palm up, "and now you owe me a nickel, pay up!"

"You didn't think I would return?" Regina asks John then.

"I know whatever's going on between you is special and whatnot, but no, I wasn't counting on you to act on it," he says without a bit of embarrassment, and she gives him a small smile.

"I wasn't sure I would, but…" she admits, and then, "where…?"

"He's brooding," John answers with a chortle, "come on, I'll take you to him."

They all walk together, Emma only looking at her and grinning knowingly, not saying a word as Roland and John talk about what food Granny will be serving for dinner later.

They stop when they reach the crow's nest, John pointing to a lone figure a few feet away by the bow's cargo crane, holding on to the rails at the very front of the ship.

"Go, we'll keep an eye on the kid," Emma promises just as John swoops down and hoists Roland up in his arms, spinning him around and effectively distracting him as they start to walk back to their previous spot, leaving Regina to approach Robin alone.

He's no longer wearing the expensive suit he had at dinner, the same one he'd worn this morning to sneak into first class and see her. Instead, he's in his second-hand slacks and worn gray coat, his shoulders hunched and his head bowed, the sound of the ocean slapping loudly against the hull muffling the sound of her footsteps, helping her remain unnoticed as she watches him admire the setting sun for a few minutes, until she takes the few steps necessary to reach him and is directly behind him.

"Robin?" she calls, and he turns towards the sound, his back to the sea, brow furrowing as he finds her there. His mouth opens as if to speak, but only closes again, giving her the chance to voice whatever it is she came here to say.

"Is it too late to change my mind?" she asks him then, voice soft and smile small, but he beams at her, lets out a breathy laugh and shakes his head as he offers his hand to her.

"Close your eyes," he says just as she takes it, and when she acquiesces, he moves them so that she's the one facing the open water, his hands finding her waist and helping her climb up on the lowest rail. She can't see him, but the heat radiating from his fingers where they touch her has her blushing, and then she feels him get closer as he climbs just behind her, setting his feet on either side of her, encasing her legs in his as they both stand on the railing.

"Do you trust me?" he murmurs softly against her ear. She shivers pleasantly at the way his voice vibrates against her cheek, and nods her answer to his question without second thought. Robin's hands leave her waist then, and he ghosts his fingers over her knuckles where she's grasping the top rail, taking her hands and moving them away from the iron, stretching their arms out like wings and resting his face close to hers as they face the water. His fingers lace with hers slowly, playfully, his touch gentle and sweet, making butterflies erupt in her stomach and goose bumps rise on her skin.

So many wonderful things align in that moment: the rumble and movement of the ship as it heads on, the sunset that casts a pink glow all around them, the cold wind against her front and Robin's warm, solid weight against her back, the ocean ahead of them and the crackling connection that tethers them to each other, it all makes Regina feel incredible. It's like she can do anything, like…

"It's like I'm flying," she finally muses out loud as she stares out at the open water, and Robin disentangles their fingers and lets his hands come down, one of them holding on to the thick steel cable connecting the tip of the bow to the crow's nest and funnels, the other still wrapped around her middle to hold her steady and let her soak up this moment of freedom, but she misses his touch, so she brings her arms down from their silly flying pose and puts her hands on her stomach, right above the one of his he keeps there, turning her head to the side to find him staring at her, eyes shining with a devotion she's sure she's never been on the receiving end of before.

"May I kiss you, Regina?" he asks her then, barely a whisper as he brushes his nose against her cheek, and the many feelings she has for this man flood her entire being as she basks in his attentions.

"You better," she answers with a smirk, and not a second has passed after she's said the words when his lips are on hers, a bit tentative at first, exploring new territory. The angle is a bit awkward, as he's still behind her and they have to keep their heads turned to the side to reach each other, but it doesn't stop them, and he drops one peck, then a second, and on the third one, he lingers, moves his mouth gently against hers, sucking at her bottom lip and coaxing a breathy sound out of her that is swallowed by the wind as it picks up speed around them.

Regina has never felt anything like this, the rush of fire and need and something else, something _more_, all combined into the tender motions of his lips, the sweet caress of his tongue when it peeks out to taste her, the scrape of his teeth against her bottom lip, and she moans softly as fireworks explode within her. She brings a hand up to the nape of his neck, playing with the hair there as the kiss grows deeper, though it remains slow, and the contrast is delicious and unique, and Regina has the fleeting thought that she could live on his kisses, wouldn't need anything else but his lips on hers to be content.

Once the dalliance fizzles back to sweet, small pecks, she turns back to stare at the water as Robin hooks his elbow around the steel cable for purchase. Her head falls back against his shoulder and her eyes drift shut when he tightens his arm around her waist, this time with a little less propriety as he cuddles her closer and nuzzles her neck, hums an unknown tune in her ear. She doesn't know how long they stay like that, but when she opens her eyes again, she notices that the sun has gone down, and they're enveloped in a dark sky dotted with bright stars. The air is icy, and she shudders when a gust of it slaps right against her, prompting Robin to climb down from the rails with her and wrap her in his arms properly, his wrists locked on the small of her back as her arms go up and around his neck, and they smile at each other like naughty children who've just gotten away with doing something they shouldn't.

"This is crazy," Regina tells him as she shakes her head and grins up at him.

"I know. That's why I trust it," Robin says simply, bringing a hand up to caress her cheek as he plants another kiss on her mouth, one that she deepens instantly, sucking lightly on his top lip for a moment before they part.

"Come on," he tells her then, taking her hands from where they rest at the nape of his neck and bringing them to his lips before he tugs her along, "I want to dance with you."

His excitement is contagious, and she finds herself running with him along the corridors, laughing and squealing when he catches her by the waist from behind and smacks her back to his front, so that he's close enough to plant a wet kiss on her cheek before they're off again, panting when they finally reach the third class dining saloons. After a few minutes of scouting, they find Henry and Roland cheering on John as he arm wrestles a man at their table. Granny is providing the alcohol for the adults, placing glasses of Guinness all around the table for them to grab and then treating the kids to hot chocolate, adding a dash of cinnamon to the whipped cream she dollops on top.

Everyone is in great spirits, and there are lots of bets going on as to who will win, John or the other man, whose name Regina then learns is Tuck. She claps as Robin's friend finally beats the guy, and then takes a glass of Guinness and downs it, earning incredulous looks from Emma and the men around her.

"What? You think a first class girl can't drink?" she asks, and they cheer on her as Robin sweeps her away, spinning her around the makeshift dance floor even though there's no music.

"What tune are we dancing to, exactly?" she asks him with a laugh, and then Henry's breezing past them and towards a group of men sitting in a table at the far corner of the room. In no time, they grab their instruments from under the table and the music starts.

"There, we're dancing to that," Robin smirks as he spins her faster and grabs her waist to bring her close, foreheads touching and lips hovering as they try to catch their breath before they're separated by the others, John having grabbed her hand to bring her towards him and Emma planting herself in front of Robin and moving to the rhythm.

"So, you're here," John says with a smile as he dances with her, and Regina returns the pull of lips before she nods.

"I am."

"For how long?" he asks her then, and the smile drops for a moment. She can see what he's doing, knows he's trying to protect the people he cares about from getting hurt, and her appreciation for the man grows.

"For as long as they'll have me," she promises, her eyes watering as she looks past John, at Roland, who is now skipping around the floor with Granny, and then at Robin, who catches her eye and winks before he goes back to his little dance battle with Emma.

At some point, they end up in each other's arms again, Robin placing tiny kisses on her cheeks, her brow, her lips, and the action has the others staring for a moment, before Henry goes up to Robin, pats him on the back and mutters a relieved "finally!"

The tension is broken, and everyone goes back to dancing, Roland worming his way between Robin and Regina and asking to be picked up by both of them.

"Like the last time, remember? When all three of us danced together?!" he reminds them eagerly, and Robin chuckles before picking his son up and perching him on his hip. He looks at her then, mutters something in Roland's ear, and the boy nods happily as he asks her, "dance with us, milady?" in that adorable voice of his, and Regina giggles as she curtsies and accepts his request, walking into their embrace and putting one arm around Roland, the other on Robin's waist, and then they're moving, going around and around as they laugh and look at each other, and Robin leans in for a moment and kisses her chastely.

"Papa! That's icky!" Roland interrupts, and they laugh at his disgusted expression before they both exchange mischievous glances and duck their heads, Robin planting a wet smooch on one of his son's cheeks as Regina does the same on the other, and Roland wipes the sides of his face as he squeals and squirms against them, asking to be put down and laughing when he runs towards Emma, while Robin and Regina are left alone to kiss, and dance, and kiss some more.

There aren't enough hours in the night for all the moments she wants to have with him, all the things she wants to experience at his side, but it is getting late, and she must leave the bliss she's found down here and make her way back up to her rooms, though not before she holds Robin close and indulges in tasting his lips for a few more minutes, loving the way he seems to grow bolder as they gain physical familiarity with each other, his mouth now dropping from hers to pepper little nibbles down her throat.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asks against the crook of her neck, and she nods enthusiastically.

"I'll ask Ruby for help, she'll figure out some way for me to escape them and then I'll come find you," she promises when he pulls back to look at her. She bumps her nose against his then, simply because she can.

They part after more sweet kisses and lingering goodbyes, and Regina knows she's probably grinning like an idiot the entire walk back to her rooms, but she doesn't mind in the least.

The next morning brings with it a stunning view of the ocean as it's bathed in bright sunlight, and Regina does not remember ever feeling happier than she does at that very moment, when her mind is clouded by memories of the beautiful moments spent in Robin's company the night before, of the feeling of his lips against hers, of the way he'd held her as they danced...

Thankfully, she hadn't been caught. Ruby had told Cora she'd been exploring the deck when she'd run into the touring group and noticed that Regina was looking a little pale, so she'd walked her to her room and ordered her own maid to leave her quarters and stay with Regina for the rest of the night. Cora, of course, had relayed the message to Leopold, and when he'd made his way to her room to check on her, Regina was already there, having just arrived from her night downstairs, so she was able to pull off the lie, telling him Ruby's maid was just fetching her some tea and would be back shortly. He'd left her to her supposed sickness then, and Regina had gone to bed with the silliest of smiles on her face.

She stretches on her bed like a cat, her limbs happily spent from all the dancing, and then she gets up, showers and dresses, and meets her mother and Leopold for breakfast. She tries to act stoic as they eat, but once Ruby enters the room and greets them, Regina can't help it and beams back at her friend, communicating her excited mood through a squeeze of her hand. When Countess Something-or-Other walks into the room and Cora and Leopold stand to go say hello, Ruby takes Cora's vacated seat next to Regina and giggles.

"You kissed him," it's not a question, but Regina nods anyway.

"Multiple times, actually," she admits, and Ruby laughs.

"You look happy. I'm glad you went for it," she tells her.

"I need to see him again. Today," Regina points out, waiting for Ruby to catch on.

"Oh! Of course, count me in, what's the plan?"

"I... was hoping you could help me figure that out?" Regina asks her then, and sees a devilish glint in the other woman's eyes as she concocts who knows what master plan in her head.

"Say no more, I've got it covered. Meet me by the elevators in half an hour, okay?" she says then, and gets up from the table before their food is even served, walking briskly towards the same countess the other two have been talking to for the past few minutes and inviting them to a guided tour of the ship.

"I'm afraid I took the tour yesterday," Leopold says.

"Oh, right. Well, that's a shame, then. Mr. Gold was quite looking forward to you being there," Ruby throws in.

"Gold?" Cora asks, meddling even as she retains conversation with the countess.

"Well, yeah, he told me he'd like to talk to Leopold about those business ventures we discussed, and the tour seemed like a good moment to do it."

"It does seem appropriate for such discussions," Leopold agrees, as Ruby had no doubt known he would. "Besides," he adds, "there are still some areas of Titanic that I didn't get to see yesterday."

"Well, then it's the perfect opportunity, isn't it? I'll tell Gold and we can meet at the Captain's quarters in, say, an hour?"

"Splendid," Leopold agrees, for once smiling genuinely at Ruby. They go their separate ways, Regina begging off the tour immediately when they're alone in her chambers.

"I wouldn't want to embarrass you during an important business conversation. And, in all honesty, I'd rather stay here and avoid getting seasick again," she tells her fiancé, putting her hand on his arm for good measure. Leopold eyes the gesture suspiciously, and Regina thinks for a moment that she may have gone overboard, but then he covers her hand with his, kisses her cheek and tells her to go lie down, that he'll take Cora in her stead, and that they'll be back shortly.

Regina paces her bedroom, her palms sweaty as the minutes tick by, and when it's finally time to meet Ruby, she leaves her room, heads to the B-Deck elevators, and waits impatiently.

The sound of grinding metal startles her, and she sees that one of the elevators is coming up, a smug Ruby climbing out of it when the crew member operating it finally opens the door, and to Regina's utter surprise, Robin is standing right next to her.

"Figured this would be easier than sneaking you down there," she says as she drops a very generous tip on the operator's hand and asks him to forget what he's seen. The man nods eagerly as he looks at the money and then offers his help and discretion in anything else that she may require, and she smiles her thanks as he closes the elevator doors and continues up to A-Deck. Ruby then looks back at Regina.

"If Leopold or Cora shows up in your rooms, Robin can just hide and sneak back out. Now go," she says, looking like the cat that ate the canary as she walks away, throwing a cheeky smirk over her shoulder at them and using a sing-song voice to mutter a final, "don't do anything I wouldn't do," before she disappears down the corridor.

It's a difficult task for Regina to sneak Robin into her room, but she does it, feels a small flicker of pride at the fact that she's pulled it off, and then Robin is on her, hands snaking around her and lips claiming hers in seconds.

"Hi," he says when they part, all flustered and unbelievably handsome.

"Hi, there," she replies with a breathy chuckle, then kisses him again, her hand on his jaw, and suddenly they're laughing, exhilarated and drunk on each other. Robin's hands are cradling her face now, thumbs rubbing over her cheekbones as the rest of his fingers dive into her hair, knead at her skull, and she sighs, drops her head against his chest and places a kiss there before looking up again, her breaths short as he licks his lips and looks at her.

"What do you see in me?" she asks him then, her voice low. He frowns in confusion.

"Hopefully the same thing you see in me, a chance at happiness," he answers, smirking when he adds, "and you're quite a good kisser."

She smiles at him, kisses him chastely on the lips, and then looks down nervously.

"What is it?" he asks, sensing her discomfort, and Regina takes a deep breath before she speaks.

"I was just wondering…" she trails off for a moment, huffs and then pulls away, and she thinks she hears him ask "Regina, wha...?" but she's already walking towards her safe before he finishes the question. She spins the lock this way and that to put in the combination, and when a faint click echoes in the otherwise empty closet, the small metal door opens. She pulls out the velvet box and turns to face him then, opening it slowly.

"Whoa," he gasps, his fingers lifting to hover over the jewel, "this is… what is this?"

"A diamond, a very rare diamond," she explains.

"It's massive," he observes, his thumb and index finger lifting the pendant from its cushion and bringing it close to his eyes to better examine it.

"You told me that after your wife died, you hadn't felt inspired to draw anyone other than Roland," she begins, and he nods as he drops the diamond back into the box and then touches her cheek.

"Mm," he confirms just as he plants a tiny kiss on the tip of her nose, "until I met you."

She gives him a small smile at that, giddy because she was right in her assumptions, looks at him for a moment, gathering her courage before she continues.

"Robin, I'd like you to draw me wearing this," she finally says, and he raises an eyebrow, but nods all the same, putting his arms around her waist and whispering that _sure, no problem_. She smirks then, paying close attention to his reaction as she clarifies.

"Wearing _only_ this."


	7. Chapter 7

_**OUR SHOW IS BACK (and what a return that was! Such a great episode!)**_

_**Let's celebrate the end of the hellatus with a new chapter, shall we?  
><strong>_

_**Here you go, guys, have some erotic drawing moments ;)**_

* * *

><p>Robin's mouth goes dry at Regina's request, and he gulps as he looks at her, trying to find the joke in her words, but she means it. She wants him to draw her… <em>naked<em>… the mere idea of it has heat pooling in his belly. When she tells him there's charcoal pencils and some paper in the first drawer of her dresser, he realizes that she's _planned_ the entire thing, and the fact that Regina's been thinking about baring herself to him like this makes his thoughts wonder to places they probably shouldn't just yet.

"Are you okay?" she asks him with an amused smile. Robin gulps again.

"I'm fine," he lies, and he knows he's not fooling her, but she seems to enjoy the reaction she's getting out of him at her suggestion, tilting her head up and kissing a line up his throat and to his chin.

"So?" she continues, "will you do it?"

"Su… sure," he stutters, "I mean if— if it's what you really want."

"It is."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Okay," he says again, and she laughs as she extricates herself from his arms and tells him she'll be right back, that he should set up however he wants, move stuff around if he needs to. That snaps him back into motion, and though he's still in a lust-induced haze, he starts to envision the space, the lighting he'll require, and goes about moving the couch, dragging it to the far center of the sitting room, where the light hits it from the right and illuminates the cushions, meaning it'll illuminate Regina when she's on it.

It's been barely ten minutes when she emerges, clad in a black see-through robe that covers her naked body, the diamond shining brightly where it hangs around her neck. She's gotten rid of what little makeup she was wearing and her hair is down, out of the pins that had been holding it up earlier, the long waves tumbling around her face freely, framing her lovely cheekbones and shining in the light that spills from the lamp in the corner.

"Ready?" she asks as she walks to stand in front of him, between the small chair he's set up as his work station and the couch he means for her to lie on.

"As ready as I'll ever be," he smiles sheepishly at her, anxious over what's about to happen.

"You're nervous," she finally deduces, and for some reason, his shy admission when he nods at her makes her smile, and then she walks into his arms and kisses him, bold and beautiful as ever.

"It'll be fine," she reassures in a whisper before stepping back from him and waiting for him to take a seat on his chair.

When he's ready, she walks backward until her legs hit the couch, and then she hooks her fingers into the robe over her breasts and slowly opens it, letting it fall from her body and pool down on the floor at her feet.

Robin is mesmerized by the sight of her. She's gorgeous, all gentle curves and creamy skin that just begs to be tasted and worshipped, and he can feel his cock stir when his eyes focus on her nipples, pert and tight thanks to the cold air that filters through the room.

"Stunning," he tells her, and she gives him a flirty little smile that makes his insides churn with desire. He's so distracted by the way her body catches the light when she sits on the couch that it isn't until she asks him how he wants her that he snaps out of it, telling himself to stop ogling her and focus.

He instructs her to lie on her back, propped up on the cushions he's set up by the arm of the couch. Next, he tells her to tilt her face down towards him and asks her to pivot her body the tiniest bit to the side so that it's on full display for him to capture. She doesn't seem to know what to do with her arms, so he rises from his spot and walks to her, moving them so that one is over her head, resting on the cushions behind her, and the other is bent against the couch, hand up by her temple, and that's when he sees them.

There are three faded, purplish marks on the otherwise unblemished skin of her forearm, and he doesn't need to ask to know who is responsible for them.

"I'll kill him," he seethes, and Regina shifts a little, no doubt startled by the anger that flares up in him as he looks at the bruises, and when she finally catches on to the reason behind his rage, she scrambles to cover herself up, grabbing the robe from the floor and pressing it to her chest so that it covers her front, muttering to him all the while that it's nothing, that this was a bad idea, that she should've remembered.

"No, wait," he stops her when she makes to get up, a gentle hand on her shoulder as he calms his breathing, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't, but I don't want this turning into a big deal, Robin. I'm fine, it doesn't hurt."

"But it did."

"Yes," she confesses.

"And he did that to you… because of me, because you were downstairs with me."

"It's not your fault, he doesn't know about you. He thought I was being rebellious, escaping from his watchful eye. Honestly, it's fine."

"It's not _fine_, Regina," Robin tells her sternly.

"Robin, it's nothing, it'll heal, and then once this trip is over I don't ever have to see him again. I want to be with _you_, remember? I won't marry him. True, he doesn't know that yet, but…" he stops her rambling with a smile, one that breaks out on his face despite the heaviness of the situation at hand.

"You won't marry him?" he asks, and it's silly because of course she won't, she chose _him_, not Leopold, but hearing her say it has a thrill running through him. She sees it, sees the spark in his eye, and smirks.

"Of course not," she reassures, putting a hand on his cheek and closing her eyes as he leans in for a kiss.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks when they pull away.

"I'm fine, and I won't let him hurt me again, I promise."

"He's stronger than you."

"You taught me how to punch, remember? I'll be alright," she winks, and Robin sighs, looks down for a moment before taking her arm gingerly in his hands and planting kisses on the marks Leopold's left on her skin, trying to be as tender as possible, and oh, how he hates that man, hates everything he's done to her, wants to torture him for harming her.

"Do you still want to do this?" he asks her in a whisper.

"Yes," she reiterates, smiling at his concern, "but I could do without the bruises showing on the drawing, if that's alright with you?"

"Okay."

"Good," she says, letting the robe fall off her again, "now, you said my hand should be somewhere up here, right?" she asks as she repositions herself against the cushions and brings her hand to her temple once more. Robin helps her rearrange her limbs, drops another kiss to the marks on her arm, and he sees the way her eyes water at the gesture, so he does it again, smiles at her and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Alright, try to stay still," he murmurs as he moves back to sit on his chair, and, "put your eyes on me, keep them on me," he tells her softly, feeling a surge of affection for her as she smiles at him with such complete trust and vulnerability that he rises from his chair again for a moment, gives her a chaste kiss on the lips and then heads back to his station.

He stares at her for long seconds, taking in the details and the shadows as they bathe her figure, and then he opens her dresser to get what he needs, rests a blank sheet of paper on the hard surface of the table in front of him, and poises the charcoal pencil on top. Finally, with a deep breath and a slightly shaky hand, Robin begins to draw.

It's been years since he's drawn from life. Other than Roland's features, which he knows by heart now even though they change so rapidly as he grows, Robin hasn't drawn a single person in ages, and he'd been wondering how difficult it would be, whether he'd be able to do justice to the beauty he saw in Regina, but as he starts tracing the lines of her arms and give shape to her silhouette on the paper, he forgets about his doubts, surrenders himself to the feeling of satisfaction he gets out of being allowed to capture such loveliness, and he basks in every second of it, his pulse growing steadier as he does. He softens the lines that form her elbows, adds shading to the inside of her arm and her palm, and then looks at her again, concentrating on attributes that are uniquely hers, little birth marks that adorn her skin, the flowing movement of her torso as she breathes, and then he drifts his focus back to the sketch, darkens the shadows on the parts of her body that rest against the cushions, adds light to the areas where the lamp's glow hits.

When he draws the gentle swell of her breasts, he blushes, and she notices the red tint of his cheeks, teases him about it with an amused comment that goes straight to his cock.

"Like what you see, mister big _artiste_?" she taunts in an exaggerated French accent, "I'd let you touch, but you're all the way over there," she finishes with a pouty grin and a naughty glint in her eye.

It takes him about half a dozen deep breaths to recuperate, and when he does, he gives her a stern look.

"You have to stop saying things like that if you want me to finish this," he tells her, and again she seems to revel in the effect she has on him, but she apologizes and relaxes her face so that he can carry on.

Robin can't help the flash of heat he feels when his finger moves over her nipples and stomach on the paper, smoothing the lines that are too harsh. The reverent atmosphere of the room has a strange influence on him, has him breathing shallowly and licking his dry lips every few minutes, and when he sketches the inside of her thighs and uses his finger again to blend the shapes, he looks up to find her gazing back at him intensely, her mouth open the tiniest bit, breaths heavy, and he knows then that she finds this entire experience as erotic as he does, but he takes a deep breath and goes back to the picture, trying to not think of how much he wants to touch her as he continues to work.

He draws the necklace, simple and unimportant next to the elegance of her neck, nothing but a rough, tiny little detail in the grand scheme of the piece, because that's really how he sees it, cannot add any of the jewel's opulence to the drawing because it's overpowered by Regina's stunning body and even more beautiful soul, the one that peeks out at him from her dark eyes when he finds them as he looks up at her again. There's an openness there, one that shows him everything she is in that moment, mysterious and hurt and scared and exhilarated all at the same time, and Robin realizes right then and there that while he's only known her for a few short days, he's falling madly in love with her.

It takes him a while longer to complete the piece, but as he adds a few finishing touches and blows the excess charcoal off the paper, he finds that he's proud of the result, likes the image he's created of Regina with nothing but his eyes and the charcoal pencil that now rests idle on the table in front of him. He doesn't let her see the drawing, though, not yet, because he knows she won't understand, won't see herself as beautiful as he does unless he demonstrates to her that she is.

Robin turns over the drawing and sets it aside, getting up and walking towards her. She frowns at him in confusion, but says nothing, most likely not wanting to disrupt the serene calm that seems to surround them. He trails his fingers over her waist and up her side, pausing when she tenses up for a split second.

"Are you okay?" he asks her, "I can stop if—"

"No, don't. I'm alright," she tells him.

"You sure?" he asks. Regina nods, closes her eyes as he slowly starts to coast his hands over her. Her skin is like silk, and Robin revels in how good it feels under his fingertips, focuses on committing the texture of it to memory as he moves his hands along her body, not really venturing into any of the more intimate areas, only kneeling before her and keeping to his task of caressing her, relaxing her, smiling a little when her breath deepens and her body turns pliant to his every touch.

After a few minutes, as he passes over her ribs again, he goes up a little further, to the underside of her breast, and pauses.

"Is _this_ alright?" he asks as his fingers run tentatively over the swell, and she breathes an affirmative, but he notices she's a little shy now, a little fidgety, so he stops, lets his hands fall at his sides and asks her to please tell him what's wrong.

"I've just never… I'm not used to feeling like this," she says, sitting up from her position on the couch.

"Feeling how?" he asks, putting his hands on her knees, and she seems to sense the worry in his tone, the fear that he's pushed her too far, so she cups his cheek in her hand, rubs her thumb over his jaw as she finds the words to reply.

"Sensual? Wanted, but in a good way? I don't know how to explain it."

"Have you… this is a very uncomfortable question," he huffs, "have you and Leopold…?" and he hates himself for asking, wants nothing more than to stop having this conversation, especially now when she's bare and vulnerable in front of him, but he needs to know, to understand the extent of her issues with intimacy, because if that man has done something else to her, Robin will kill him.

"Not while we've been on the ship. Actually, not for about a month now, when I think of it… but yes, a few times. Mostly I just lie there and wait for him to finish… it's not something I've enjoyed," she closes in on herself now, hugs her arms around her naked torso and looks away from him, ashamed of herself, and Robin has a hard time curving his anger at that wretched man, can feel his need to make him suffer boiling within his very skin as he looks down at her bruises again and screws up his face in rage, but he takes deep breaths and manages to calm down, for _her_, because he doesn't want to scare her, wants her to feel safe with him.

"Regina," her eyes snap back to his when he breathes her name, "you don't have to hide from me."

"You might not like what you see," she says quietly, staring blankly at a spot in the wall.

He takes her hand then, draws her arm away from her chest, and kisses the inside of her wrist, the crook of her elbow, and then her shoulder, rising and sitting on the couch next to her as he nuzzles her neck, enjoying the contented sigh she gives in return.

"I already adore what I see," he says against her skin before pulling away to look into her eyes again, "and I won't break you like he has, I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do. Please, you don't ever have to be wary of me."

"I'm not, I swear I'm not. I'm just… nervous. I'm not used to someone caring," she says with a sad smile.

Robin takes a deep breath, then notices the full-length mirror in the corner of the room, and it's perfect, he thinks, because now he can _show_ her.

"Come here," he says as he rises to his feet and extends a hand to her. She takes it, rises with him, and he moves them towards the mirror, making her stand in front of it so that her own full reflection is staring back at her as he stays behind her, his chin on her shoulder and one of his hands on her waist.

"You are _exquisite_," he murmurs against her neck as he lets his free hand trail over her shoulder and down her arm, "no one should make you feel anything less."

He plants a kiss there on her neck, lets the tip of his tongue lick her skin for just a second as his hand grows bolder, travels over her chest, down the valley between her breasts and down, down, down to her navel before going back up over her side and then down again at her back. He hears her breath hitch and sees in the mirror that her eyes have closed, her head lolling back.

"Open your eyes, Regina," he coaxes gently, and she does, stares back into his in the mirror.

"I want you to see yourself the way I do," he says in a low voice, "I want you to feel pleasure, I want to show you how breathtaking you are."

She turns in his arms then, crashes their lips together, and it's heated and sloppy and he loves it, loves that she's trusting him with this. Her tongue plays with his ardently, and he has a hard time slowing down their kiss when she starts to rake her nails up and down his back, but he stops, turns her back around and lets her back press firmly into his chest as he holds her and once again brings his hands to her body, his nose nuzzling into her hair, taking in the delicious cinnamon scent of it, and then he starts talking to her, telling her how much he wants her, how the sounds coming out of her mouth are driving him to the brink.

"You're so beautiful," he says as he licks a trail up her jaw, and her hand flies to the nape of his neck, tangles in the hair there.

"Robin," she moans when he bites at her earlobe, and fuck! That's the most beautiful thing he's ever heard.

He waits for her nod of approval when he reaches for her breasts, massages them and rocks their bodies back and forth. It thrills him to have her like this, because this is exactly what he wants, wants her to feel desired for the right reasons, in the right way.

"You've no idea how arousing it is to watch you like this, to kiss those delicious lips of yours that drive me to distraction every time I see them," he murmurs as her hand drops from his nape and he moves to the other side, kissing her shoulder. He continues his whispered affections, telling her how touching her this way is a gift she's allowing him to have, how he won't ever betray her trust.

"I want to worship you the way you deserve, Regina," he tells her when he sucks at her pulse point, and she gasps at the words.

All the while, his hands are running up and down her figure, squeezing her breasts and rolling her nipples as he kisses her skin between words of devotion, and then he moves his right hand down her front, his fingers splaying on the skin right under her belly button and dipping lower to the neat patch of hair between her legs.

"Okay?" he asks in a heated whisper in her ear, and she nods frantically, her eyes half-lidded and dark as they stare at the mirror, at what he's doing to her. Robin goes back to kissing her neck, switching sides again after a few seconds and then going up her jawline until he's peppering kisses right under her ear, settling there for a moment before he stops. She's panting and licking her dry lips as she looks back at their reflections, and he keeps his eyes on hers as he brings his right hand up again, licks his fingers and lets them slip back down to explore her.

She's a sight to behold, completely aroused and fully surrendering to his touch as he lets one finger rub lazily over the sensitive spot between her thighs. She bites her lip at the sensation and opens her legs a little further, rolling her hips to increase the friction. Robin then ventures that same finger inside her slowly, teasing her opening before he goes all the way in, and he groans into her shoulder when he feels how wet and warm she is.

"God, you feel amazing," he rasps, and she groans at his comment, turns her head to kiss his mouth eagerly, her hand clutching at the hair at his nape again when he lets a second finger join the first, the rocking of her hips growing a bit more insistent after a couple of minutes. She's instinctively looking for stimulation to her clit, and he gives it to her, uses his thumb to rub over it while his fingers remain buried in her, circling instead of thrusting in and out, until he hits a sweet spot that makes her buck wildly against his hand. He stays there, flicking at it over and over again inside her while she gasps out his name and asks for more, her body sagging against him. It's then when he notices her eyes are closed again, so he stops, and she whines as she opens her dark brown orbs to look at him in the mirror, frustrated at the ceasing of his attentions.

"Keep your eyes open," he tells her as he starts up again, pumping his fingers into her as he nips at her shoulder and uses his other hand to roll one nipple, then the other, "I want you to _see_ how incredible you are, how desirable. You are stunning," he says, "and not just because you're beautiful, but because you're strong, and intelligent, and passionate. You are all of those things and so much more," he tells her as he begins to thrust his hand faster and harder into her, her whimpers of pleasure almost drowning out his voice, her grip on his hair bordering on painful.

"Robin," she breathes, "you… _oh, god_… you feel… _oh!…_ you feel so good."

"That's it, give into it. You deserve to feel good, you deserve to be cherished," he encourages, "you don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders anymore, Regina."

He keeps it up that way, his fingers relentless as she cries out when he sucks on a spot on her neck that he's now discovered makes her crazy.

"You deserve to feel pleasure, you deserve to be free," he tells her, "let go for me, lovely."

He bites on her earlobe right after he says the words, and then looks back at the mirror just in time to watch her come undone, her muscles clenching and squeezing his fingers inside her as she writhes and moans, her face contorted in an expression of pure, unadulterated ecstasy. A moment later she loses her footing, her legs giving out with the intensity of her orgasm, but he holds her steady, his other hand dropping from her breasts and looping around her belly to keep her up and tethered to him while he pumps his fingers slowly, loving the sight of her riding out her climax on his hand, panting as her head drops back to his shoulder and she turns to the side to press her face into the crook of his neck.

His fingers slip out of her as they stumble back to the couch, Regina sinking into the cushions next to him as she sighs blissfully, and Robin chuckles at her satisfied little smile as he snakes his arms around her middle, turning her and lifting her over his body so that she's astride him, one hand on his chest, her nose skimming up his throat and lips planting a tiny kiss on his jaw.

She moves her hand then, down his chest and stomach, but he stops her before she can go any further, wrapping his index and thumb around her wrist and pulling it away from him gently.

"There's no need for that," he tells her when she frowns at him in confusion, "this was for you."

"That hardly seems fair," she replies, "I want you to enjoy this, too."

"Oh, believe me," he says with a smirk as he rolls his hips under her so she can feel his erection straining within his trousers, "I enjoyed myself plenty."

He notices how Regina's breathing goes shallow when she feels him, and his own breath leaves him when she moves down on him just so, grinding her wet, bare sex right on his cock over his clothes and closing her eyes for a moment before she swoops down and kisses him, her tongue teasing his and her teeth biting down on his lip. They pull away to catch their breaths, and Robin lets his hands fall down from her waist until they're resting on her ass.

"I mean it," he tells her sincerely, squeezing his fingers into the tender skin, "knowing that you were reacting that way to me, _because_ of me, that I can do that to you… God, I could come just from watching you," he says as his eyes drift shut at the memories of just minutes ago, when she was panting and writhing under his touch.

"Thank you," she breathes against his chest before she lands a tiny kiss there, "that was… I felt so alive."

"I don't ever want you to feel stifled with me, Regina. I want you to learn about yourself, what makes you feel good, and not just in the sexual aspect, but in everything. I want you to be free to choose, to explore. You deserve that, and I want to be the one to give it to you."

"Thank you," she tells him again, shivering a little now that her body's cooled down and the light sheen of sweat on her skin is hit by the cold air. They've neglected to turn the room's heaters on, so the place feels quite chilly, but she doesn't attempt to get dressed or even cover herself up, so Robin shifts her off of him for a moment, stands them both up and grabs her robe, wrapping it around her like a blanket and moving until he's fully lying on the couch, his neck and head propped up on the cushions. He opens his arms to her, and she goes willingly, lying on her side between his body and the richly upholstered back of the couch, head pillowed on his chest, right over his heart, a naked leg draped over both of his.

They stay there for what feels like hours, just talking and laughing lightly, his nose buried in her hair. She tilts her head up after a moment and they share a few kisses, chaste but wonderful all the same, and when they part, he moves his free hand so he can trail the pad of his thumb over the scar on her lip.

"How did you get this?" he asks her, and the way her lazy grin falters lets him know the origin of the mark is a lot darker than he'd expected, so he backtracks immediately, "you don't have to tell me."

"No, I want to," she says, "it's just… it's not your usual, funny, I-was-running-and-fell-on-my-face kind of story, it's a bit more twisted than that," she warns.

"I think I can handle it… and you can kiss me awake if I have nightmares about it later," he teases to try and get her to relax, and it works, makes a small smile grace her lips as she huffs out a breath. He runs his thumb over the scar again, watching as she closes her eyes and says nothing for a moment, merely kisses his thumb where it reaches her lips and takes deep breaths until finally, when he threads his hand in her hair and runs that same thumb over her cheekbone, she finds it in herself to speak.

"When I was sixteen, I met a boy…" she starts, and blushes as she says the words, making Robin grin at her, "he, um, he took care of the stables on our estate, tended to the horses, minded their stalls... His name was Daniel, and we were crazy about each other. We'd sneak out in the middle of the night and take the horses up to this place called Firefly Hill, that's where he kissed me for the first time, and it became sort of our secret hideout, so we'd escape there as often as we could. Our entire relationship was nothing more than riding horses and stealing kisses between lunch and tea, but we were happy."

"Mm, sounds nice," Robin agrees with a nod as she lets her head fall back down on his chest, his chin colliding softly with her hairline.

"It was, for a while anyway. A few days after my seventeenth birthday, my mother found out about us, and she wasn't happy."

"Is she ever?" he jokes, sensing that the worst part of the story is coming and wanting to lighten the atmosphere just a little, to give her a respite before she has to relive painful memories.

"Fair point," she answers with a laugh, "anyway, she saw me and Daniel kissing in the stables, and she went berserk. Yelled at us, said that one's trajectory should be up and Daniel, of course, was down, that I was an idiot if I thought she'd let me be reduced to shacking up with the stable boy. Daniel defied her, told her he loved me, it was the first time I'd ever heard him say those words, and I felt so… empowered by them. I was foolish enough to think that him loving me was all it would take for me to break free of her, so I defied her, too."

"I'm sensing that didn't go over well," Robin ventures, and her arm wraps around his stomach in response, her cheek resting against his chest as she continues to speak, her tone growing somber.

"She slapped me, up until then she'd never done that to me before. She was wearing this really big diamond ring on her finger and, well, it cut me."

"Wait, your _mother_ gave you that scar?!" he asks against her hair, and he supposes he should've seen it coming, given the turn the story has taken, but it startles him all the same. She nods against him, trembles a little at the memory.

"She fired Daniel after that, threatened to have him framed for robbery or something worse and thrown in jail for the rest of his life if he ever so much as breathed the same air as me, and then she locked me up, forbid me to ride horses or even venture outside unaccompanied. I didn't leave the house for about a month. Daniel tried to help, entered a horse race to try and win the prize money, he wanted to become rich so mother wouldn't object to us being together. The horse threw him off mid-race, got spooked by something, I don't know… and he cracked his skull against a rock."

Robin kisses her head then, wanting to comfort her, and he's about to tell her she doesn't need to say anything else, doesn't need to continue if it's too painful, but she keeps talking, stopping his reassurances before he can even voice them.

"Mother wouldn't let me attend his funeral, told me this scar and his death both served me right, that it would all help me remember who I was and stop my silly attempts to challenge her. I tried to escape one night when she and father were busy with some visitors, I wanted to leave and never come back. I put together a bag with essentials and climbed out my window, but one of the servant girls told mother on me and she caught me, dragged me back inside and insulted me, humiliated me in front of my father and his colleagues. I remember it so vividly, the way I fought back, told her it was _my_ life, and she laughed at me, shook her head and said 'you foolish girl, it's _mine_,' like it was the most obvious thing in the world. I stopped fighting her after that, convinced myself that there was no point to it anymore. My father was a kind man, but he never protected me from my mother, and Daniel was gone, where would I go? I was seventeen and scared and alone, with no one to understand what I was going through."

Robin hooks a finger under her chin then, lifts her face up to him and kisses her cheeks to clear them of the tears that have now begun to fall. She's felt so much pain, so much sadness, and it kills him that he can't fix it, that he can't erase such terrible memories from her mind.

"I want you to know," he tells her, "that no matter what happens, you'll never be alone again. I'll always protect you, Regina." He means it. Regardless of where they end up, if for some strange reason what is happening between them now fizzles out somewhere down the road, he knows he'll never stop wanting her happiness, knows he'll never stop helping her find it, even if it's not with him (though he really, truly hopes it's with him).

She responds to his words and soft caresses with a watery smile and a fervent kiss on his lips, and then he hugs her to him, lets her bury her face in the crook of his neck again as he holds her and feels a few tears dampen his shirt. He says nothing, doesn't think there's anything else _to_ say, but he continues to run a soothing hand up and down her back as she cries silently.

Minutes later, her shoulders stop shaking, and she sighs against him, the hot air she blows against his skin making him nudge her forehead with his lips so they can press a kiss there, and then she looks up at him, eyes red-rimmed and glassy, but she's smiling, as if a weight has been lifted off of her, and he hopes that it has, that his reassurances and his touch have managed to curve some of her anxiety, eliminate some of her fears.

"Robin," she says, smile still in place, "as much as I love snuggling with you, I think I'm going to need a proper huggle."

He laughs, cuddles her closer for a second and then kisses the tip of her nose before replying.

"As milady wishes," he tells her, "go ahead and get dressed while I clean up here, then we can go find Roland."

"First things first," she interrupts, pointing to his abandoned work station and the portfolio that rests there, "show me."

Robin's eyes widen when he realizes she has yet to see the drawing she commissioned, and he grows nervous then, not knowing if she'll like it. He feels her move off of him, wrapping the robe tighter around herself when she can no longer feel his warmth, and waits on the couch while he gets up and grabs the sheet of paper. He looks at the piece, then back at her, and takes a deep breath before depositing it in her lap, stepping back and waiting anxiously for her verdict.

Regina smirks at his nerves before she looks down at the drawing, and then she gasps. When her gaze drifts back up to him, a single tear is falling down her left cheek, and Robin immediately thinks the worst.

"I can try again, I can do better," he can't, he really can't, he gave it his all, but he'll try, for her, because he wants to please her, but then she's shaking her head as more tears fall, and she's smiling at him, beaming, actually.

"This is… Robin, this is incredible," she breathes, and he feels his entire body sag with relief at her words. Regina doesn't seem to notice his inner turmoil, as she's now running a delicate finger down the lines of her arm on the paper, mouth half-open in wonder.

"What is it?" he asks, sinking down to his knees in front of her, much like he had done earlier.

"I don't think I've ever felt more beautiful than I do now, looking at this," she tells him with a trembling voice, and he smiles, stretches up to peck her lips softly, and then takes the drawing and lays it gently on the couch next to her as he sinks back down, holding both her hands in his and kissing her knuckles.

He wants to tell her so badly, the need to profess that he's falling in love with her eats at him as he stares into her eyes, sparkling with happiness as they look back into his, but it's too soon, and today has been emotionally taxing on both of them, so he doesn't, chooses to wait for a more appropriate time, when his confession won't overwhelm her.

"I love that I can make you feel that way," he says instead, smiling at her when she runs the backs of her fingers down his cheek.

"I should probably get dressed," she tells him after long seconds of staring at each other with stupid smiles on their faces.

"I changed my mind about that. Forget the clothes, I actually quite like you like this," Robin smirks as they both stand, his hands sliding up her thighs and resting on her waist.

"It's a bit too cold outside to wander up on deck in the nude, don't you think?" she teases, and his hold on her tightens for a moment before he reluctantly lets go.

"Fine," he says with a pout, "go dress, and then we can go get you all huggled up."

He puts things back in order as she walks into the vast closet to get ready and then settles by the couch to wait for her. His jaw drops when she emerges a few minutes later, clothed in an airy fabric, all white except for the lavender on her sleeves and the sides of the bodice, and a light pink sash tied around her waist, flowing down at the back and joining the small train at the bottom. She's left her hair down, curls loose and beautiful around her face, and he can't resist the urge to touch, lifting a hand to tangle his index finger into one of the thick waves as he stares at her.

"You look gorgeous," he tells her, and she smiles in thanks.

"There's one more thing I need to do," she says as she takes off the necklace, "help me put this back in the safe?"

He nods as she drops the diamond on his hand, and Robin does as he's told while she goes to the small chest by her coffee table. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her pull out stationary paper and a fountain pen from the tiny coffer, and when he comes back to where he'd left her, he finds her writing out a note in elegant, well-practiced script.

"What is that?" he asks.

"A greeting for my soon-to-be-ex-fiancé," she replies with a mischievous smile, and Robin chuckles when his eyes focus on the words she's scribbled on the paper.

_Darling,_

_Now you can keep both me and your precious diamond locked up in your safe._

_Enjoy the artwork. You'll get nothing else from me ever again._

_-Regina._

"That's quite bold," he tells her after a moment of amused admiration, "are you sure about this?"

"Absolutely," she says, unwavering as she puts the note and the drawing inside the safe, right on top of the velvet box where Robin's just placed the diamond, "I'm done submitting myself to him."

"I'm proud of you," is his only response, shifting ever closer to her and bumping her nose affectionately with his.

He's about to kiss her when they hear the lock on her door being tampered with, as if someone is trying to get into the room. Regina gasps as she looks at the clock.

"Sidney."

"Who?" Robin asks, hands rubbing up and down her arms to calm down the nerves he sees bubbling up in her.

"Leopold's man," she clarifies, "we've lost track of time. They probably sent him to see why I didn't join them for lunch like they told me to."

Robin nods then, understanding, and takes her hand firmly in his.

"Then it's best he doesn't find you here."

"No, wait, I'll get rid of him, just hide," she says, shoving him into her closet and closing it behind her just as the door swings open.

"Ah, Miss Mills," Sidney greets, "Mr. Blanchard wondered why you weren't at luncheon."

"I fell asleep, but I'm almost ready, I'll be right down," Robin hears her say.

"I see…" he says, and Robin's skin crawls at the menacing quality the man's tone takes as he mutters, "and here I thought you'd be gallivanting with your friend from downstairs."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replies, but this Sidney fellow isn't fooled.

"Oh, I think you do, but I'm willing to stay quiet and let you have your little adventure… for a price, of course."

"A price?" Regina asks, and Robin senses the slight tremor in her words.

"Precisely. You're a very beautiful woman, I'm sure we can come to some arrangement," Sidney says then.

"Excuse me?!" she balks.

"Come on, I know you want it, too," Sidney tells her, and when Robin hears Regina's fearful "what are you doing? Don't touch me!" he can no longer stay still, runs out of his hiding place and pushes Sidney off her, landing a fist on the man's face and knocking him to the floor before enveloping her in his arms, letting go only so he can hover his hands over her face worriedly.

"Are you alright? Did he hurt you?" he asks in an unsteady voice as his eyes search for possible damage.

"I'm fine, I'm okay," she assures him, though her eyes are bright and wide with fear.

They hear Sidney's grunt as he starts to get up, and Robin doesn't even stop to think, practically hauls Regina out of the room. They lose themselves in a small crowd walking down the hallway, but before they can get too far, the man's caught sight of them and is heading their way, shutting the door to Regina's rooms behind him with a loud, angry bang that startles some of the people passing by. Robin looks at Regina, takes her hand, and then they run.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Humongous thanks to Allison for her help, she's the reason you're all getting smut in this chapter so like, go send her some Lagavulin, or something**_

* * *

><p>Their day had started innocently enough: she'd enlisted Ruby's help, and then managed to sneak Robin into her room, Ruby distracting Cora and Leopold so that they could have some privacy. She hadn't planned farther ahead than asking him to sketch her and then maybe sharing a few kisses here and there, but it had all turned into something new, something heated and beautiful as Robin contemplated and explored every inch of her, first with his eyes as he drew her, then with his hands as he gave her pleasure beyond anything she'd ever experienced. Even as she'd gotten dressed afterward, she could feel the ghost of his lips on her neck, her body still flushed and tingling from the way he'd touched her and brought her to heights she'd never been to before.<p>

Orgasms aren't a part of Regina's sex life. Sure, they've happened a few times, by her own hand when she's been angry and frustrated, but it's always been a form of release, a way to drain her of her pent-up rage and excess energy, sometimes even to help her sleep. It has never been an experience in itself, never something to share and connect with someone else, Daniel had been ripped from her before they could get that far, and Leopold couldn't care less about _her_ pleasure when he'd shared her bed (not that she'd get any enjoyment out of it, anyway, with his clammy hands and horrible breath all over her, thank god he never took long to finish). So no, orgasms aren't something she's used to, and they have never been something to make her feel particularly _good_, let alone treasured and cared for. But this time, she'd felt that way, Robin had seen to that, had made sure she understood how he sees her, how much he desires her, had shown her exactly how beautiful he thinks she is, inside and out.

Things had taken a turn a while later. Sidney had found her –entered her room uninvited with a lockpick he'd casually pocketed after letting himself in— and had decided to demand a very inappropriate favor from her, one that he felt entitled to for not telling Leopold of the real reason behind her escapades to third class, but before he could do anything to her, Robin had stepped out of hiding, defended her, and then dragged her away from the other man's menacing glare and the dangerous plans he no doubt had for her.

That is why Regina finds herself running across Titanic now, weaving through the corridors with Robin, bumping their way through the crowds of passengers milling about the ship, and she should feel scared, should at the very least be worried, but she's not. In fact, Regina has never felt more exhilarated.

They go down the decks, through doors she's sure they're not supposed to open and rooms they're not allowed to explore, including the boiler room, where it's so hot it feels like she's being cooked in an oven, and the workmen in charge of loading coal into the boilers to make the ship's rotors go forth give them incredulous looks, not really catching on to the fact that there's two intruders in the place until a few seconds later, when the chief of operations calls out a "hey! What are you two doing down here?!" and they all react with varied forms of the same inane question. Regina doesn't answer, but giggles when Robin does.

"Don't mind us!" he yells as they breeze past, "you're doing a great job! Don't let us keep you! Thank you for your hard labor, my good men!"

Up a ladder they go, entering another of the water-tight compartments and marveling at its contents.

"This must be the cargo bay," Robin says, and it's obvious that it is, because they're surrounded by cars, all polished and impeccable, perfectly taken care of by the staff that has worked tirelessly to earn their place here, to be amongst the group of sailors that can call themselves crewmen of the mighty Titanic.

Sidney is hot on their heels, they can hear the workmen from behind the door shouting the same questions at him as they did them when they ran by, so Robin takes her hand again drags her through another door, and they find themselves in front of the stairs that lead up towards F-Deck.

"Let's go to my room, he won't find us there," he offers.

"Your room? Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Locksley?" she teases, giving him a knowing smirk.

"No, although I do like your idea a lot better," he winks, "I only meant that he doesn't know what number my room is, and there's about nine hundred of us lowly steerage scum on board. It'll take him a while to figure out where we are."

"Oh," she says, a little embarrassed that she misunderstood the situation, but the reassuring kiss and wiggle of eyebrows he gives her puts her at ease and makes her determination grow as she nods her head and agrees to his plan.

They make it to room 318 after a few more minutes of running, thankfully losing sight of Sidney in the process. They're panting when Robin closes the door behind him and locks it, leans against it, and then Regina finds herself snickering, giggling louder and louder in the empty space around them until she's laughing hysterically, clutching a stitch in her side as she breathlessly falls into him, cackling into his shoulder, completely unabashed.

"His _face,_" she wheezes against his chest, "did you see his face when he couldn't find us? Did you see—"

Her guffaws die down when she looks into his eyes, leaving only room for her heavy breaths as he takes her in, his teeth biting into his lower lip. She's not very sure who closes the gap between them, but it doesn't matter, because then his hands are on her and she forgets her own name, stops caring about everything else and just surrenders to this, to _him_, peeks her tongue out almost immediately and explores his mouth with it, lets him do the same to her, lets him sink his teeth on her bottom lip and then lick it when she hisses at the delicious bite, lets his hands travel all over her back and to her ass, lets him grasp her there and pull her closer to him, lets him turn her into a trembling mess of satisfied moans as he leaves a trail of wet kisses down her throat, going lower and lower until he encounters the fabric that makes up the square neckline of her dress, her breasts just barely peeking out when he pulls at it.

"Take it off," she gasps out as she kicks off her shoes, tangling her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and whimpering when his hand catches on the hooks at her back to peel the dress from her body, but the heat of the moment has made him clumsy, has him clawing at the hooks with no real result, so she backs away and undoes them with her own hands, loving the way his eyes darken as he watches her, flushed and breathless while she undresses for him.

When her gown falls to the floor, leaving her in her ivory lace corset and underthings, he roams his gaze over her, murmurs "exquisite" as he takes her in, and for some reason whenever he calls her that, Regina feels a flash of heat erupt in her belly and spread out to the rest of her. She steps into him, pulls their bodies flush together and covers his lips with hers, and she senses his surprise, can tell he's a little shocked at her forwardness, but he recovers quickly, kissing back and sucking at her upper lip as one hand finds her hip and squeezes, the other tangling in her hair. She can feel him hardening where their lower bodies press together, and knowing she has this effect on him makes her feel sexy, bold, makes her bite her lip as she looks up at him from under her eyelashes when they part, makes her take the hand he's settled on her hip and bring it to her lace-covered breast.

"I want you," she breathes.

"Are you sure?" he asks with a tenderness that enraptures her, and that difference, that contrast between how much Robin values her and Leopold's blatant disregard for her feelings shakes her, makes her that much more certain that she's made the right decision by allowing herself to hope, by choosing to enter into this crazy, wonderful thing with this crazy, wonderful man.

"I'm sure," she says confidently.

"I just…" he trails off, frowning as he continues, "this is not the way I intended for us to have this conversation, but… Regina, I'm healthy, there's nothing in me that could harm you, I want you to know that," he says, and she smiles at his worry. She knows, of course she knows, because he cares for her, would've told her way before this if there was something to fret about, but she appreciates his intentions nonetheless. Her reply is a breathy _I trust you, _her hand pressing his more insistently to her breast.

"Put your hands on me, Robin," she says then, not a hint of hesitation in her voice. Her eyes are intent on his, tongue licking at her lips, and he groans at her words, crashes their mouths together, and brings his hands to the laces at her back, pulling at them haphazardly until the corset is falling off her and he's ducking his head down to suck at her nipples.

The feeling is unparalleled, Robin's tongue swirling around the hardened peaks trapped in the warmth of his mouth as he sucks and nips over and over again, switching from one nipple to the other and back as his fingers work to remove the rest of her underwear. He reaches her stockings, and drops to his knees to skim his nose down the expanse of one leg and then the other as he removes the material covering them, leaves gentle, suckling kisses from thigh to ankle that have her shivering and letting out strangled little moans along with the whisper of his name.

It occurs to Regina that he's entirely too clothed for what comes next, so as the last scrap of fabric falls off her and she's left naked and flustered in his arms, she busies herself with undoing his pants, her fingers trembling a little in anticipation. He has yet to remove his shoes, however, so when she finally manages to get his trousers down, they get stuck when they reach his boots, and she's mortified, blushing furiously as she curses herself for doing this the wrong way, but he cuts off her inner tirade of self-deprecation, only chuckles at the mishap and bends down to remove the offending items, taking off his coat and shirt as well, standing bare before her in seconds.

She's dumbfounded, can't even find it in herself to utter a single word, too wrapped up in the image of his body as it is finally revealed to her, inch by lovely inch. He's muscled at the chest and arms (one of which is adorned with the tattoo of a lion by his wrist, she notices), and has a firm, well-defined stomach that contracts instinctively when she runs her nails over it. She flinches away, apologizes instantly, but Robin shakes his head.

"No, it feels good… really good," he emphasizes, so she does it again, skims her fingers softly over the skin of his stomach, up his torso, to his neck and down his back until she reaches his backside, and he's groaning, straining with the effort it takes him to stay still as she explores him, but he seems to want this, seems to want to give her time to familiarize herself with his form, and so she does, traces the contours of his body with her hands as she walks in a circle around him, her touch light, her mouth opening slightly when she's back in front of him and finds herself rubbing where he's hard and aching for her.

"Regina," he breathes her name reverently, like it's the most beautiful word in his vocabulary, and it only makes her more desperate for him, her arousal growing exponentially. She can feel the wetness between her thighs building again when he ferociously rasps a "god, I want you" as his eyes close, and right then and there, Regina desires nothing more than him, his magical touch and those beautiful lips of his on her.

"Robin," she sighs against the skin of his neck, "have me."

It's all the indication he needs, and he moves instantly, grabbing her by the waist and backing her against the ladder of the bunk bed, making her hiss when her heated skin comes in contact with the cool metal. It takes her a few seconds to understand what he's trying to do, too preoccupied with his lovely lips to realize he's attempting to move her, pushing her body upwards.

"Top bed is mine, bottom one is John's," Robin explains when she parts from him and frowns in confusion, and _oh, okay,_ she tells him before turning around and climbing up the ladder, shuddering when Robin runs a hand along her rear and sneaks a kiss to the left cheek as he follows. When they've both reached the top, Regina scoots up the bed with her elbows planted on the mattress, eyes hungry as she takes him in and wanders her tongue into his mouth for a deep, passionate kiss, one that intensifies when she feels his full weight above her, when his warmth seeps into her and ignites every nerve in her body.

Robin veers his mouth away from hers when she gasps, dips it down her neck and to her shoulder, her chest, down to her breasts, sucking at one nipple while his fingers squeeze the other with just the slightest hint of pressure, driving her insane with lust and need for him.

His other hand is resting next to her arm, palm flat against the bedsheets, arm stretched up and holding his weight as he licks down her body, until his hair tickles her navel and his stubble rubs against her inner thighs, and _oh_, is he really going to do what she thinks he's doing to do?

The answer comes to her in a slow lick up her sex, one that has her crying out and grasping at his hair with desperate hands, and she can just _feel_ the way his lips pull up in a smile against her inner thigh before he brings both hands down to keep her thighs apart and dives back in, warm tongue against her clit, lips closing over it and sucking, alternating between that and dipping his tongue inside her, then using his finger to venture into her while he continues to suck on her clit, the different sensations making her writhe under him.

"So beautiful," his hoarse whisper vibrates against her, has her near screaming with pleasure as he follows with "so sweet," and _mmh, god!_ she can feel it, can feel the pressure building, that live wire of release about to make sparks fly inside her.

"Come for me, I want to taste you when you come," he tells her before going back to her sensitive nub and flicking his tongue over it just as he inserts a second finger inside her and starts thrusting fast and hard, and there's a wet, slapping sound that engulfs her as his hand picks up speed that makes her lose all control as he sucks harder, and then she's coming, rolling her hips against his mouth as she lets herself go. He prolongs it, slows his fingers but continues to lap at her, making her entire body tingle, and it's desperate and needy, the way he's licking her, the way his free hand has fingers digging into her hip, and she pulls urgently at his shoulders, wordlessly asking him to come back up. He does so a little too fast, miscalculates the distance, and bangs his head against the low ceiling with a loud thud.

"Ow! Motherf—" he cuts off when he hears her laughing. And she shouldn't, she knows she shouldn't, knows she should probably check him because it really sounded like a nasty bump, but she can't bring herself to move, her body relaxing and turning her into a giggly puddle as she stares at his scowl and the way he keeps rubbing a hand over the top of his head.

"It's not funny, Regina," he grouches, but that just makes her laugh harder even as she wheezes out an _I'm sorry_.

"No, you're not," he says, calling out the lie as he leans forward and catches her lips with his briefly, "but I love hearing you laugh, so I shall endure."

She stops giggling then, grows quieter even though the smile on her face remains big and bright, amused at the entire spectacle. It reduces itself to a lazy, seductive grin when she looks into his eyes and wraps her arms around his waist, flipping them over and placing one leg on either side of his body, her knees bent against the mattress as she straddles him.

"There, now you can rest your pretty little bruised head on the pillow while I do _this_," she says before she lowers her torso to his and presses herself tight, hands skimming up and down his sides as her tongue dips into his clavicle, lips ghost kisses over his shoulder, find a scar on his arm and kiss that, too, then kiss the tattoo she's becoming so fixated with.

"What's this for?" she asks as she runs her tongue along it.

"It's— mmm… it's… _god_ that feels good," he rasps when she rocks her hips against him as she sucks lightly at the inside of his wrist, right above the tattoo, but then she stops, raising an eyebrow at his indignant pout. He sighs then, takes a few breaths to relax, and answers her question properly.

"It's for Roland. His favorite animal. His first word, too."

"His first word was 'lion'?"

"John's doing. We had a bit of a wager going on over whether or not it would be 'papa', and he made sure the boy learned any word _but_ that one just so he could win the bet. I had to do his laundry for a month."

Regina giggles then, shaking her head and looking at him for a moment, allowing herself to get lost in his intense gaze before she swoops back down and kisses him, all heat and tongues and wet little noises that have moans tumbling out of her.

"I love it when you make that sound," Robin says against her bottom lip before he bites it gently, sucking it into his mouth and running his hands up her back until they reach her shoulders, caress their way up the sides of her neck and then cup her face, thumbs on her cheekbones while the rest of his fingers dive into her hair. Regina moans again as she moves her mouth away from his and down to his throat, nipping and licking there when she feels his hips start to rock of their own accord. He tastes fresh and salty, like the sea, with a hint of sweat from their earlier exertions, and the hardness of his cock under her is making heat flare within her, awakening the arousal left dormant after her orgasm.

Regina rakes her nails down his torso without stopping her attentions to his neck, sneaks her hand down between them to wrap awkwardly around him and pumps with a slow, firm rhythm. They're pressed together snugly, so she can't really maneuver enough to find a proper grip or a faster pace, but he seems to like it nonetheless, making her smile into his skin when he gasps and thrusts hard into her hand before he can help it, his tip bumping into her lower belly where it pushes against him.

"Sorry," he grunts as his head drops back.

"Don't be. I like knowing I can do this to you."

He groans, looking into her eyes as she continues her ministrations, his breath growing ragged when her teeth nip at his chin. After a few moments, she loosens her grip and moves her hand away from him, smirking at the whiny sound Robin makes when she does, but then she's sliding herself back and forth on his cock and he's gasping again. Regina dips her tongue into his mouth, kisses him hard as she moves a little faster, and then she raises herself up a little, takes him in hand again and guides his tip to her entrance, teasing them both for a moment before she starts to sink onto him.

"Fuck!" he moans when he's finally fully sheathed inside her and she falls back down against him. He doesn't move, though, and when she rests her elbows right above his shoulders on the bed, the backs of her fingers carding through his hair, she realizes that he's trying to be patient, trying to wait for her to get used to the feeling of him inside her.

"Go on, do it the way you want," she breathes in his ear, biting the lobe before she speaks again, "you don't have to be so careful with me."

"I just— mm," he pauses, cut off when she rolls her hips the tiniest bit with him inside her, and god it feels so good, _he_ feels so good, but she needs more, needs him to start moving. _Now_.

"I just want you to enjoy it," he finally says, once he's managed to gather his wits long enough to form a coherent sentence, and she smiles, her eyes drifting shut of their own accord when he lands a sucking kiss on her jaw.

"I am enjoying it," she assures him, her voice breathy and wanton as she rocks her hips again, the combined sensations making her pant into his mouth as she brings their foreheads together, her elbows digging deeper into the mattress as her fingers continue to push his light brown locks away from his face, "I want this, Robin. Don't hold back."

He relents, draws both arms around her waist and tightens his hold on her as he bends his knees, plants his feet flat on the bed for leverage, and starts thrusting up and into her again and again, harder and faster the more she moans into his ear.

"Good?" he asks, and she nods quickly, then bites down on the joint of his neck and shoulder, licks the spot and kisses up his jaw, until she reaches his lips again, and suddenly they're making out wildly as he keeps bucking into her, holding her flush against him. When they part their lips, he looks at her, into her eyes, and she can see the scorching need and raw desire she feels reflected back at her in his deep blue orbs before she sits up atop him, one hand settling on the taut muscles of his stomach while the other finds purchase on the ceiling above her, and he stops moving for a moment, his hands roaming her body, fingers kneading her breasts and rolling her nipples.

"You feel wonderful," he tells her when she circles her hips, rises up slightly and then sinks down on him hard, making him shout more expletives. She continues her actions, and in seconds he's sitting up and burying his face in her breasts, her arms coming to loop tightly around his neck, his head bumping into her chin as he helps her bounce on her knees, up and down on his cock, faster and faster until she's so far gone she thinks she sees stars.

"Robin," she moans against his shoulder, nails scraping lightly against his back, "I'm so close."

At her words, he draws one hand away from her waist and wedges it between them to rub at her clit, moving two fingers in tight little circles over it as he mutters naughty, lovely things against her breasts, takes turns sucking each pebbled peak.

"Harder," she tells him, and he obeys immediately, slamming her onto him just a little more firmly, and suddenly the pressure is perfect, the angle is perfect, and his cock is ramming into her, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip before she whimpers in pleasure, and then she's coming, the rhythm of her hips faltering slightly as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes through her.

"Oh, god!" she groans into his neck, and it seems he'd been waiting for her, because four fast thrusts later, he's coming inside her, the loud utterance of her name muffled against her when he smashes his face between her breasts again.

They stay like that, her arms still loosely wrapped around his neck and his head now settled in the joint of her neck and shoulder, his nose skimming what he can reach of her hair, hands running up and down her back as they catch their breath. She's the one to speak first, a mere whisper in the newfound stillness of the room.

"That was incredible."

"_You_ were incredible," he responds as he slowly pulls out of her and maneuvers them, so that her legs can wrap around him where they sit in each other's embrace. He nuzzles her neck, then moves up and leaves a quick kiss on her cheek before he draws back to look at her. Regina blushes, looks down at his chest, avoiding his eyes.

"You don't have to sing my praises, Robin. I know I'm not the most… experienced of women," she has no idea where she's going with this, can't really figure out what it is she wants to say, that she'll get better? That she wishes she knew more about what makes him feel good? Wishes she had more expertise in the entire matter? He doesn't give her a chance to find the words, though, but rather hooks his finger under her chin, turning her face towards him, his eyes stern and honest as he mutters, "hey, none of that. I'm not trying to be chivalrous here, Regina. I meant what I said."

"Really? You liked it?" she feels stupid for asking, because of course he liked it, she can feel the evidence of that trickling out of her at this very second, but she also knows that men can practically get off to almost anything (Leopold, after all, finishes off rather quickly even though she avoids touching him when they're intimate), and she doesn't want this to be like that, wants Robin to feel good because of _her_, not because his body simply reacted to stimulation.

"Oh, I more than liked it," he tells her as he brings one of her hands down from around his neck and laces their fingers together, but he's smiling at her in a way that feels condescending, like he's trying to appease a child, and it makes a lick of anger flare in her as she scowls at him. Robin sighs, looks down at their joint hands and brings them to his lips, planting a line of kisses along her knuckles as he tells her to _please stop worrying so much, _his voice merely above a whisper.

"I don't want anyone else, regardless of whether they're more experienced or not," he continues, giving her a tender smile as he assures her, "I don't want elaborate bedroom tricks, Regina, I just want you."

That brings a genuine smile to her face, her whole body relaxing at his words.

"You've no idea," he says as he moves forth and his lips pepper sweet kisses on her shoulder, "how sexy you are," his tongue swirls against her skin, one hand squeezing her breast between them while the other moves her hair aside as he continues, "how warm and tight and lovely it feels to be inside you," he moves to plant kisses up the side of her neck, reaching her ear before he adds, "how aroused I get when you moan my name."

"Robin," she whimpers, her head lolling to the side to give him more room.

"Yes, like that," he confirms with a grunt, licking his way back to her shoulder, his arms coming down to wrap around her, fingers meeting at the small of her back.

"What about me?" he teases after a minute of silence, and she can feel his smirk as he mutters the words in her ear, "how did I do?"

She laughs, rests her palm on his chest as she answers, "oh, I think you know", accompanying the words with a wiggle of her eyebrows. Robin chuckles at her, and then kisses her slowly, sweetly, his tongue playing with hers, tasting her, a moment shared simply for the sake of enjoying each other.

When they part, Regina untangles her legs from around his waist and lets him bring their bodies down to lie on the mattress, his movements landing her half on top of him, his head on the pillow and hers tucked under his chin. She smiles lazily, trailing her fingers absently over the smattering of hair on his chest.

"You know," she whispers into the silence, "we were supposed to be finding your son. I still want that huggle."

Robin snickers under her, the action jostling her a little, and she smiles, leaving kiss after kiss in a path up his throat and to his jaw, where she gives him a playful bite before she lays her head down on his chest again.

"We can go find him now, if you'd like," he volunteers, but Regina turns her head to drop a kiss right over his heart and settles in more comfortably, sighing contentedly. She _mhmm_s her assent, but is too sated and spent to move a single muscle right now, her eyes closing as she follows her hummed reply with a sleep-slurred murmur of "but not yet. Too comfy."

She stretches out on the bed and drapes her arm over his stomach, bends her knee and hikes a leg up and between his. There isn't much space in the small bed, so she worries for a moment that Robin will be uncomfortable all tangled up with her like this, but he doesn't seem to mind, his arm encasing her more fully, fingers absentmindedly drawing circles on her shoulder.

She feels her eyes drooping, but the small, incredulous laugh he lets out after a while wakes her enough to ask about it.

"Nothing, I'm just… happy," he tells her, tightening his hold on her.

"I hear sex can do that to you," she teases, but he shakes his head, putting a smidgen of distance between them so he can look at her face.

"I'm not talking about the sex, though admittedly, that was fantastic," he winks at her, "but it's more than that," he says as he grows serious again, running a finger down the slope of her nose, "it's you. You make me happier than I've been in years, Regina."

She doesn't know what to say to that, and her eyes well up at the pure sincerity she sees in his. She doesn't realize that a tear has escaped her until he wipes it away with his thumb, landing a brief kiss on her lips before he looks at her again.

"You make me happy, too," she tells him with a watery smile before she settles back down into his arms, eyes closed as she keeps talking to him. She knows she should probably look at him as she tells him more, but she finds that it's easier to talk like this, when she doesn't have to see the concern that shows all over his face when he learns more of her sordid past.

"I never had what you'd call a normal upbringing. My mother was never warm or loving, always hell-bent on finding a way for me to marry up and bring fame and fortune to the family. She fooled me sometimes, smiled at me and touched my hand as she guided me through some debutant ball or other, but as I grew up I understood that she only did it so that I would obey, so that I would do exactly as she asked and ensnare some shiny new heir with my good looks and poise. It's a dreadful thing to be thirteen years old and realize your mother only wants you around when there's something in it for her."

"What about your father? Where was he in all this?" Robin asks, and Regina squeezes her arm over him, burrows tighter into his warmth as she answers.

"My father was kind, and he saved me from mother's wrath once or twice, but he cowered before her the rest of the time, until one day he just stopped trying to help. He was never hostile with me, always had a smile on his face when he first saw me in the mornings, even gave me a horse so I could ride off and escape for a few hours a day. Mother was horrible to him too, though, and he was afraid of her, so much so that it drove him to pubs and dark alleyways on most nights, gambling our fortune away instead of being at home with his family. He died last year without a penny to his name and left a mountain of debt sitting over us."

"I wish I could've been there, to help you through all that heartache," he says sincerely, kissing the top of her head.

"You know what the sickest part of it is? That I still think she loves me. Hell, she's marrying me off to Leopold just so _she_ can have money, doesn't even care that he treats me like trash, and yet I tell myself every single day that she's doing it because she loves me, because she wants what's best for me, even when I know, I _know_ it's not true."

"Regina, it's perfectly natural to crave the love of a mother, but yours has been using that craving to manipulate you since you were a child. You deserve better than that, better than her and that letch Leopold, than a father who didn't fight for you when he should have. God, I can't imagine how you must have felt… going through life wondering if there's ever even been anyone who didn't want something from you, who simply cared about you without expecting anything in return."

It's not a question, but she answers it anyway. "Daniel," she says with a sad smile, "Ruby now, too, I suppose… and… you."

He kisses her hair at that, draws her impossibly closer, and she lets the pine forest scent of him soothe her, lull her back to that blissful place just shy of deep, unperturbed slumber, basking in the comfort of their bodies relaxing against one another.

After a few minutes without a word between them, she thinks he's fallen asleep, but then he speaks against her hair, his voice low and hoarse in the stillness of the room.

"After I… lost my wife, I felt like I didn't deserve to have anything good in my life, that I didn't deserve to find joy, not after I let her slip away."

"It wasn't your fault that she died."

"That didn't make me feel any less guilty. The way I saw it, my son had barely been born and I had already failed him by not saving his mother. But, when I finally admitted to myself that she was gone, and that she was never coming back, I had to let that guilt go." She feels him move his arm then, the one that's not around her, and land his hand on top of hers on his stomach, threading their fingers together, "After that, things started getting better, I focused on Roland, on giving him the best life I could, all the while waiting, _hoping_, that someday I would find my second chance at happiness."

As he speaks, he brings their joint hands to his lips and kisses her knuckles, and she feels a flash of warmth inside her at the unspoken admission that _she_ is that second chance, a huge grin forming on her face.

"I still can't believe you chose me," he tells her, that incredulous chuckle tumbling out of him again, and Regina smiles, because he's adorable, even if he's got this all wrong.

"I chose _me_, Robin," she corrects as she raises her head from his chest to meet his eyes. "Spending my life catering to the whims someone like my mother is… not pleasant. I've never had something for _me_, something that made me feel free, alive. Now, thanks to you, I do. This? _Us_? It's what _I _want, what _I _chose for myself. I won't let her, or Leopold, or anyone else take that from me."

He kisses her fiercely then, his hand tangling in her hair and playing with it as he ravishes her mouth, his tongue swirling, his teeth grazing and pulling at her lips.

"You're quite something, you know that?" he murmurs when they part, and Regina answers him with a last, quick kiss before she sits up on the bed.

"Hey, come back here," he urges with a pout, tugging on her hand to try and get her to lie down again, but she doesn't budge, turning to face him as she crosses her legs under her and runs a hand down his torso, back up and to his face, ghosting her fingers over his cheeks, his eyes fluttering closed when she reaches his eyebrows, his lashes. They stay closed as she runs her fingers down the slope of his nose, over his lips softly and down to his chin, then back up to play with his hair.

"It's been _four_ days," she says in a baffled whisper.

"What do you mean?" he asks with a confused frown, his hand rising to cup her face, thumb rubbing over her cheek.

"Nothing, it's just… it's hard to believe I basically only just met you," she says with a giggle, "it feels like we've been together forever."

"Is that bad?"

"No. It's wonderful… scary, but wonderful."

"Scary how?"

"I've never experienced this sort of thing before. I barely know you and already it's like I'm being consumed by these… these _feelings_ I have for you, and my entire being is screaming at me to run before my messed up life catches up with us and destroys you like it did Daniel. I keep worrying my mother will find out about us and ruin everything, and yet I can't stand the thought of being away from you."

It's a long winded ramble about the fears that plague her, and she grows more and more agitated as she speaks, but then she looks at the way he's smirking at her and those fears melt away.

"You have feelings for me?" he asks, cheeky grin still in place.

She huffs indignantly in reply, grabbing the pillow from behind his head and smacking him on the arm with it repeatedly as she chides, "is that _all _you got from that?"

"Hey!" he laughs, putting his hands up to shield himself from her next blow, "no need to get violent, I just wanted to make sure I heard you correctly."

Regina sighs then, leaning over him so that their faces are only a mere inch apart.

"You did," she confirms, and then giggles into the eager kiss he gives her. And when they part and Robin beams at her, she knows she'll do anything to make him smile at her like that forever.

"Want to grab a shower before we go get Roland?" he questions after a moment, his hand caressing the side of her face when she drapes her upper body half across his chest, her elbow digging just a little into his ribcage, legs tucked up against his side.

"Hmm, I actually had another idea in mind," she sultrily whispers, looking at him from under her eyelashes and smirking seductively as she palms his cock and a hiss escapes him.

"Oh, did you, now?" he plays along, his eyes focusing on her breasts when she moves to straddle him again.

Her stomach chooses that very moment to grumble, the action alerting them to their skipped lunch and the need for sustenance. Robin chuckles, pats her rear swiftly and maneuvers her off him.

"I'm afraid round two is going to have to wait, milady, we must get you fed, and see about that huggle," he tells her, looking thoroughly amused when she pouts at him.

"I suppose you're right," she relents after a moment, sighing when he leaves the comfortable cocoon of the bed and climbs down the ladder, offering his hand to her when he reaches the bottom. Regina has other plans, however, and she places both hands on the edge of the bed to propel herself forward, falling into his arms and giggling at the surprised _oof!_ he utters as he catches her.

It's only when Robin slides her down his body and onto the floor that Regina realizes just how sweaty she is. Her hair is sticking to her nape, her skin feels slippery, and she has no doubt her face is covered in a light sheen that is not at all attractive.

"I really do need a shower," she says absently, scrunching up her nose in distaste at her current state as she wobbles on still shaky legs towards the tiny bathroom. Robin catches up with her before she's taken two steps, though, wraps his arms around her waist from behind and nudges her hair to the side with his nose, dropping a kiss on the side of her neck.

"You're beautiful," he murmurs, and she feels herself blush, her entire body tingling because of his compliment. She turns sideways in his arms, gracing him with a smile before she leaves his embrace to gather her discarded corset and undergarments from the floor, drapes her dress over her arm, and walks into the bathroom, popping her head back out the door to wink at him.

"Are you joining me, or do I have to get all wet by myself?" she asks, raising a suggestive eyebrow at him, and Robin laughs and shakes his head, following her into the shower.

They stay under the warm spray for way longer than necessary, but Regina can't bring herself to care, not when Robin's hands are massaging her shoulders, washing her hair, his lips peppering kisses up and down her back. Once she's good and clean, she takes her turn, running her hands over his body as she washes suds away, pecking his wet lips from time to time and humming at the wonderful feeling of his warmth cradling her when he shuts off the water and takes her in his arms.

When she's dressed and presentable again, she looks at the tiny clock on the bedside table, wincing when she realizes it's almost five.

"What's wrong?" he asks as he finishes buttoning his shirt.

"It's almost tea time, lady never misses her tea time," she says with a sarcastic smile and a roll of her eyes, "mother will be expecting me, especially after I missed lunch. And if Sidney went to them, she'll be livid over whatever that man might've told her. It won't be pretty."

"Then don't go."

"Robin—"

"Please, Regina, they'll still be angry later tonight, might as well enjoy what's left of our day together before we have to face them. Besides, I believe you're owed a huggle… and then later maybe I can strip this thing off of you again," he winks as he pulls lightly on the fabric of her dress, and oh that is unfair, using both his adorable son and the promise of more orgasms to get her to stay, but stay she does, pursing her lips to try and contain her smile as she sighs an "alright" and lets him lead her out of the room and through the corridors, out into the open boat deck and towards the bow, where a very excited Roland jumps from John's arms and into hers the second she greets them, moving from side to side when he tightens his hold around her neck, effectively wrapping her up in a huggle without her even having to ask for it.

"Regina! Uncle John showed me the dolphins! Look!" he screams enthusiastically, pointing towards the railing and down at the waves, where a pod of eight or nine dolphins jump out and swim alongside the ship, playing amongst themselves, and Regina has never felt more content and gleeful than she does at that very moment, with Roland perched on her hip and Robin's arms wrapped around them both from where he stands behind them, chin resting on her shoulder as the three of them look out at the ocean together.


End file.
