Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Challenge/Prompt: 1_million_words August Rush Day 8:
Word Count: 558
Date Written: 21 August 2018
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.
Robin clutched the tiny device in his hand. It was small and made of inferior materials, but from what Regina had taught him about the thing she called a phone, it was invaluable. All the gold he had ever stolen could not begin to amount to this object’s worth, and it wasn’t just because of what it could do as much as who it could summon onto its small screen.
Robin well remembered many villagers being frightened of having their portraits painted, but this little device actually captured portraits in an instant that were more acute in their likeliness to their subject than any Robin had ever witnessed in the Enchanted Forest. He had actually been convinced that the phone was magic at first, but Regina had taught him, with ease and patience that only he and her son knew the former evil Queen could possess, that it was not magic at all that ruled the little device but a type of science.
Robin pulled the phone out a little from his tight grasp and gazed at the image on its screen. Regina’s beautiful face smiled up at him. He would cherish this item forever, and he would never delete the portraits it held even when he learned how. Marian might demand it of him, but he wouldn’t do it. It was bad enough that he was lost now, that he had no real choice as a man but to go back to his wife who was with his child and had already borne his first son, but he would not shut Regina completely out of his heart. He couldn’t do it.
It was hard enough just thinking of what he was going to have to tell her when he did speak with her again. His hands trembling, he pressed the button that would connect him to her no matter where she was in this world. He listened as her lovely voice, still hinting of power, came across the object’s earpiece, but then he quickly disconnected the call. He could not tell her what he had to over the phone. It was bad enough that he would have to speak the words at all -- a more painful punishment he had never known --, but he had to wait until they were facing each other before he told her what he had to.
He had to do what was right. He dropped his head into his hands, the phone pushing against his hairline. Robin had longed many times in his life not to be such a do-gooder, as Regina called those who always acted according to their morales rather than merely their desires, but never had he longed more to be able to throw justice into the wind. But if he did do that, if he became the kind of man who could simply abandon his wife and unborn child, he was no longer the man who Regina loved. She would assure him, he knew, that she would still love him, and perhaps she would, but he would be unable to live with himself. He would know the truth: that he was a lowly worm who hurt and used women and would forever be unfit of his Queen’s love. His shoulders shook as Robin let tears slip, unseen, down his face and damned himself all over again for his morals.