Anonymous said: Although not anti cs, I know Sunday's "rescue" will most likely be cs heavy. Would you please give us a os of your version of events? A daddy charming rescue would warm the heart. (Mine and Emma's!)
Suuuure. Micro-prompt, though, because it’s relatively *gulp* Regina free (hey, challenge!) being that I see no chance of her stepping outside of her house this week. So this is mostly a David/Emma/Snow story. Yay!
A month after Regina’s arrival, the Locksley family hosts a ball in her parents’ honor. They invite all the nobles of their kingdom and Cora and Henry’s, to see the princess, and the engagement that will form an alliance between the two lands.
Robin has to dance with stuck-up and inappropriately flirtatious, silly women, with rude old ladies, with his grumpy aunt, who manages to injure every single one of his toes, with Cora who glares simperingly at him for the duration of their dance. He dances with almost every woman in the room. Except for Regina.
That honor is being saved for a few hours into the ball, after the meal, when everyone can fawn over them. Robin resents that. The second they put him and Regina alone on the dance floor, she will close herself off to him, glare and step precisely and sullenly just enough to appease their parents and just little enough to make it clear to him that she hates it.
As they stand from the banquet table, a rather drunk lord (somebody’s uncle, a powerless second brother—Robin has forgotten whose) gets up too suddenly and spills an entire glass of wine on Regina’s lovely cream dress.
Cora’s ire lasts for several minutes, and when they finally make it to their dance, Regina is cold and sullen, shuts down his every attempt at conversation.
He tries not to show how much it stings, tries to remind her with his hand gentle on her waist, his fingers grasping hers, that he doesn’t want this for them, either. They swirl across the floor to the delight of Cora and Robin’s father, and quite the picture they must make—the stain on Regina’s dress covered in another skirt layer her mother had tied around her waist, beautiful silver embroidery faint and shimmering across the fabric, Robin’s forest green coat a pretty contrast to her dress’s pale cream. But she is tense beneath his hand, and he hates every minute of it.
As they finish and Cora draws her daughter away to change, he comes up behind her, lips on the shell of her ear. “Meet me just past the gates in an hour.” And then he slips away.