In which Regina learns that you can’t steal what’s already been given to you. Enchanted Forest, Missing Year. ~1.5k. [ffn | ao3]
This is a belated birthday fic for my friend @repellomuggletum15. It’s no Zorro or Karma, but I hope this will do in the meantime!
I also thought it might be nice, in light of recent fandom upheaval regarding a certain blue-eyed thief, to take a step back and remind ourselves why we first fell in love with OQ :)
It starts with the candlesticks.
Ironically, Regina might never have missed them if it weren’t for the boy, with his shy request for a storybook that his papa could read him at bedtime, and her subsequent discovery that the library’s passageways are not nearly as well-lit as she’d remembered them to be.
Muttering death threats for all their new house guests, she pulls a bit of fire to her fingertips, and narrowly avoids setting aflame the assortment of fables that she’d chosen for Roland and his insufferable (not to mention unquestionably guilty) father.
Still, a stolen torchlight or two is hardly worth the scene she’d so love to make about it, and Roland’s joyfully overwhelmed expression upon receiving a book three times his size is enough to distract her from the transgressions of others.
She supposes she’ll let it slide this once, so long as a few candlesticks, easily replaced, are the extent of things to mysteriously wander out of sight.
But it doesn’t stop there.
And nobody else in the whole damn castle seems to notice but her.