Work Text:
“We’ll find him,” she says in a soft voice that’s full of so much conviction that he almost believes her.
He looks around, his steps feeling heavy and burdened as she moves quickly, leading him to her dressing table. His brow furrows as she reaches for her a box and he watches as her steady hands pour a mix of liquids into a chalice. Her calmness is comforting, and for that, he’s grateful.
He’d come to her in a panic, asking if she’d seen Roland. He’d held his breath as he waited for her reply, watching as her eyes widened and she shook her head, telling him that she hadn’t seen the boy—at least not since breakfast. He’d rubbed his fingers roughly against his brow and sucked in a breath as the knots in his stomach tightened.
“You’ve looked…”
“Everywhere,” he interjected, slowly exhaling as a million worst case scenarios swirled around in his head. “I’m sor—“
“Don’t apologize,” she was quick to say, reaching out and taking his hand in hers. He’d looked down at her fingers, curled around his, and then slowly back at her—somehow he hadn’t expected her touch to be so soft, so comforting, and he’d never imagined that the once-evil queen holding his hand could reassure him—she did. “He’s around here somewhere.”
Then she’d tugged him forward, holding his hand tightly as they ascended the stairs and made their way down the long corridor to the queen’s bedchambers. He’d followed blindly—he was out of options and glad for the help, and for some reason that he couldn’t quite explain, he trusted her.
“I…yelled at him,” Robin confesses low voice. “I never yell at him, but today I did.”
“It happens,” Regina says, turning to him and smiling empathetically. She takes a tentative step toward him. “Roland knows that you love him.” He looks skeptically back at her. “He’s around here somewhere. We will find him.”
“You don’t know that,” he murmurs, swallowing the lump he feels forming at the back of his throat. “You can’t.”
“But I can,” she tells him. He raises an eyebrow at her confidence and she smiles and raises the chalice. “Magic.” She takes a breath. “Do you have something that belongs to him?” Robin’s hands fumble through his pockets and pulls out a marble, quickly handing it over to Regina. He watches as a small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as she looks down at the marble that rests in her palm—and then, the marble begins to move and all else is forgotten.
They follow the marble down the corridor and down the stairs, out the door and to the edge of the woods. Robin feels his heart clench, but nonetheless he continues to follow the marble as it leads them deeper into the woods, finally stopping at an old tree with weeping branches and there they find Roland, sleeping soundly against the wide trunk with his—new, but favorite—stuffed monkey tucked beneath his arms.
“See?” Regina says, exhaling in relief as she looks at him. “I told you.”
He nods as relief washes over him. “Thank you, m’lady,” he says sincerely as he starts toward Roland, and as he scoops up the small boy, he turns back to look at her—seeing her smile as she disappears in a cloud of purple smoke.