Outlaw Queen Shorts

Fallen Bridges

Missing Year ficlet I wrote for someone's birthday on tumblr.
Thank you to everyone who comments and votes, I see you all and it puts the biggest smile on my face!
Hope you enjoy Xx

"Do you trust me?" His hand was extended over the string bridge, gloved in supple brown leather to ward off the icy grip of winter's frostbite.

"I–"

"Do you trust me?" The hesitation in her voice was enough for him to ask again; this was no time for doubt.

She lifted her gaze from the rickety wooden planks beneath her feet and told him, "yes," because she did. No matter how much she tried to hide it, she did trust him. With her life. With the Kingdom if it came to it. She would always trust him.

Another gust of ferocious wind blustered past them, blowing the bridge - and Regina - from side to side, her knuckles white from clinging desperately to the fraying rope. "Robin, I can't let go!" Her voice was almost lost, carried away on the back of the next gust that nipped at her exposed flesh.

A spell to strip away her magic was the price of crossing the bridge, and under the blue skies she didn't think a temporary loss of her powers would matter, didn't expect the storm to brew from nowhere - stupid, foolish - but it did and now she was stranded half way across while the thief stood on firm ground, edging closer back onto the first wooden slat to grab her arm.
"I'm coming,"

"No!" She couldn't have his blood on her hands as well - not mixed in with the crimson that already dripped from her fingers in ribbons. The thief, her thief, was one too many. "Stay there, it can't hold the both of us."

He paused and shuffled back a step, his eyes never leaving her face, watching as wisps of hair blew across her cheeks when they were pulled free of their ties. Her heart was pounding, thumping a rhythm against her chest so loudly it rang in her ears. She felt the tears prick her eyes, because of all the ways to die was she really just going to plummet to the ground from a rope bridge? Without Henry remembering her, or the Charming's knowing she actually doesn't hate them, or the thief realising her barbed tongue is only a barrier she puts up to prevent the people she cares about getting hurt.

Although from the look in his eyes, the sheer panic glossed over the blue, she could guess he already knew that.

"Regina," she blinked. "I need you to let go with one hand for just a moment, just long enough to grab my hand, okay? Can you do that?"

Her fingers were like ice, frozen in place on the flimsy rope. But she nodded - loosened her grip when the wind subsided - slowly unbending her fingers and then lifting her palm, "that's it, reach for me," wobbling with the shift in balance, but she lurched her arm towards Robin quick enough that he steadied her as quickly as she could stumble.

He coaxed her forwards with a painfully strong grip on her hand, his other arm wrapped around the wooden post stuck into the ground behind him - anchoring him. For a moment, her feet refused to move.

"You're so close." Robin's voice was a whisper mingled with the wind, but his eyes were strong, unwavering, steady - the constant which kept her mind from sinking into the jumble of her thoughts. She stepped, stepped again, and then leaped the final gap, knocking Robin over and landing on top of him. Her breathing was heavy as she gulped in lungfuls of air, dragging her fingers through the dirt and relishing in the comfort of solid ground. The lack of magic she'd become so dependent on had taken it's toll. When it began to slowly seep back into her skin, her blood, her bones, she felt a relief like nothing else.

Suddenly she was aware of the weight beneath her, the strong chest her head lay on and the arm draped lightly over her back. She lifted her head and looked down at Robin, his eyes glistening with what she assumed was relief - relief they'd made it, relief she'd made it.

"Don''t ever do that again," he said with a heavy exhale, but Regina lent over and crashed her lips to his, catching his bottom lip within her own and savouring the taste of him. Her hands found the fabric of his tunic and fisted it, clinging on as she kissed him and kissed him, lingering with every breath they shared.

As she moved back, she whispered, "I won't," but he barely registered her reply, pulling her back down to him and sealing his mouth over hers with a languid gentleness which made her feel safe. Wanted. His hands laced into her hair and hers found the firm muscle beneath his shirt, her fingers skimming up his warm skin.

They lay on the frozen ground until there was no longer sensation in their toes, their noses red and bitten by the winter air, and Regina's legs had finally returned from feeling like jelly.