AN: This is a tumblr prompt, for Maiden Queen, and it turned out so much longer than I intended, and so much more smutty than I intended. My appeal to this ship is basically only because I absolutely despise the idea of an OutlawQueen/Marian love triangle, because it's sounds horrible and painful for everyone involved, especially Regina. The only aspect of that triangle that I would ever consider would be MaidenQueen/Robin. Because of lesbian reasons. I hope you guys enjoy! Let me know what you think :)

Spoilers: Takes place a month after the season 3 finale

I never should have come to this bar.

I'm just a few steps into the Rabbit Hole, when I see familiar curly dark brown hair and a small frame, sitting at the bar alone. I know it's Marian instantly. I don't know many people by the simple sight of their back, but I've watched hers for a good month now, while walking down the street, in the Diner, with Robin and Roland. And this is not what I need right now. What I need is to find Snow and maybe punch her. She was just so insistent, with her face full of sunshine and her lap full of a bright eyed gurgling bundle of joy, she was all 'oh you need to get out more' and 'you'll never move on if you don't at least try to socialize, Regina'. I rolled my eyes at her, and at the way she was getting so used to saying my name, as if we were friends now or something. I promptly told her that the only reason that she's even allowed over here, is because her child turned out not to be hideous. Snow only smiled at me as I stole Neal away and started bouncing him on my knee, making him giggle.

So she wanted me to go out and mingle, and I wanted to stay home and get drunk. I decided to compromise, and come here instead. Because no one would try to talk to me here, I could get drunk, and people were technically existing around me.

Then I see her though, and I'm about to turn around and walk out before anyone notices me, least of all her, but she just looks so lonely sitting by herself in this grimy bar, and what is she even doing in a place like this? I stand there debating for a few long moments. My head screams at me, just go and leave, forget you were here. But something akin to terrible instincts, and curiosity causes me to finally sigh and make my way over to the bar where she's sitting.

I settle behind a stool that's two down from hers, making sure she sees me and gets the shock and fear and everything else out of her system, before looking over at her. Her body does jerk a bit when she notices my presence, but there's not much fear in her eyes when our gazes meet. Mostly just surprise, and it surprises me when she manages a small smile. It gives me a little bit more strength.

My hand raises to signal the bartender, ordering a whiskey, and after a hard glare from me, he stops looking at both Marian and I as if a fight is about to break out. Once he leaves to get my drink, I slide another stool closer to her, sitting down with an empty seat between us. She's occupied herself once more with playing with her little red straw, but seems more nervous this time.

"This place isn't very reputable." I start with a light tone, because 'what are you doing here' seems slightly too personal for us, especially considering that we haven't talked at all since she came back. Just a few pleasantries, and awkward moments, but never anything that was just the two of us.

She looks at me then, her eyes skirting down then back up.

"What are you doing here then?" Her voice is a little shaky, but she's trying, which is more than I expected. Me trying is also more than I expected. The bartender hesitantly drops off my drink and I lift it towards her slightly, in a faux cheers.

"I am also not very reputable." A lopsided smirk grazes my lips, which her gaze follows before she smiles slightly and looks away. I take the moment to drink a generous sip of the liquor, cringing slightly at the sting.

A long moment passes between us, and right before it gets too uncomfortable, she speaks with her eyes on her drink.

"People do seem to like you better here." Marian offers, with an offer that shouldn't be granted to me. I bring the drink to my lips once more.

"Do they?" Because people are usually always awful, and no social status or hierarchy ever changes that. They still whisper and give fake smiles, and wait for their turn to talk and call it listening. They don't 'like' me here. They just stopped fearing me.

More silence between us, and a terrible sort of song starts playing out of the jukebox. It's been, about three minutes since I walked in the door. Maybe five. That's enough time for it to seem polite. I could just excuse myself. Then again, I never did find out what she was doing here by herself, and that curiosity always gets the best of me.

"So, what brings a girl like you to a place like this?" My smile is forced, but I'm hoping she finds it corny enough to at least chuckle a bit…until she looks at me confused and a little angry, and I realize that she's probably not familiar with all the corny pick-up lines of this world, with the whole month she's been here.

"A girl like me? What does that imply?" She snaps a bit, a little fire in her eyes, and I might have enjoyed it more if this wasn't a public place that had all eyes looking at me trying to interact with my ex's wife.

"It's figure of speech." I reply apologetically, and that softens her fire a bit, and I almost miss it for a moment. "It just implies that you seem too good of a person to be in a sleezy bar."

"I didn't realize it's reputation." Marian explains sheepishly. "I finally got a night to myself, but I don't know much of the town or many of the people, so I…ended up here." Her voice holds such a sadness to it, that it makes me curse myself, because now I really can't leave. Because somewhere along the line I grew a conscious, and Archie probably did some kind of hypnosis or something. I make a mental note to get a search warrant for his office. Emma was still feeling guilty enough, that she would probably comply.

I shake myself out of my thoughts a bit and look over at Marian with a smile that I almost feel.

"So, how have you been adjusting?"

She actually chuckles a bit at that.

"Not very well."

I nod, only half understanding, but understanding none the less.

"It'll get easier." I take another sip, and so does she, before my brain starts to think of conversation topics. "I'm glad to see you're not living in the woods anymore. I tried to tell Robin that it was no place for him and—" I stop myself from even saying her son's name, already knowing that this dialogue is leading somewhere it shouldn't. After a heavy pause from her, and my eyes on my drink, she proves me right.

"…He misses you. I can tell." Marian voice is quiet, but almost casual, as if she's not talking about her husband that still has feelings for me.

"I don't…" I'm about to tell her that I don't care, but it's a lie, and one that she will see through immediately. "…It doesn't matter." I finally finish, absently.

"I think it does." Now she's looking at me, and I feel it like pinpricks on my spine, but I scoff a bit, trying to lighten the mood.

"It was nothing. Just a few weeks…It wasn't as if—" I stop my words, shoving them back into my throat as it tightens, and regretting the fact that I didn't leave the bar as soon as I saw her.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I wondered what it was that he saw in you."

"How could I take that the wrong way?" I ask sarcastically, but she continues, as if she doesn't hear me.

"I think I know now, though. You have changed." It makes my teeth grind when she says it, not liking the weakness that needing approval provides, and although I have changed, even my patience and courtesy wears thin. I lean towards her slightly, with a darkness in my eyes that makes hers widen.

"Well, don't take this the wrong way, but you don't know anything about me." My dangerous tone only lasts a moment before I'm moving back and looking away.

"Fair enough." She says in defeat and understanding.

"Fair." The word comes out as if I'm saying it for the first time, a word never taught to me since birth. "Yes, the world is quite fair, isn't it?" I finish with a humorless chuckle.

She changes the subject after that, talking about simple and meaningless things, and I half listen out of courtesy, because Marian is trying to be civil. I didn't really expect it, figuring her hatred ran deep for me as it does for so many people in this town that I've wronged. And forgiveness is not something any of us are particular good at. But she surprised me, only looking at me with caution in the few times that we managed to run into each other over the last month. I figure that Robin probably had a lot to do with that.

After we both finish our respective drinks, she looks at her watch.

"I should get home." She gives me a tight kind of smile, before getting up from the stool and grabbing her coat. "Thank you for the company."

"Let me drive you." My offer is given as I grab some cash from my purse and place it on the bar, and she's already insisting that I don't go to any trouble, that she'll be fine. But it's a long walk back to the apartments that she's staying at, and nothing about her timid way of this land makes me think she should be out this late.

"If anything were to happen to you," I explain, with a gentle smile. "I would be the first one they would blame."

It's not until we start driving back to her home do I start remembering.

Because I don't remember Marian. Not from when we were both back in the enchanted forest. I should, I know that, because I was going to kill her all for the sake of my revenge, and I can't even remember her. I didn't tell anyone that detail, that she was just another face in the countless faceless that I've destroyed. There was no way that it would go over well. She doesn't bring it up either, probably because she thinks I remember, but I don't.

Not until we get in my car, and she seems far too nervous and I almost groan at my own stupidity.

"You've never driven in a car before, have you?" Because of course she hasn't, Robin never liked them, always taking to the woods and places cars can't go, so of course.

"They look very safe, when I watch them on the road." She tries to give an encouraging smile that almost looks adorable as she grips tightly to the seat cushions on either side of her. I almost smile softly at her, before I think better of it.

"They are, as long as you wear a seatbelt." My words are light, and it's when I lean towards her and reach around to get her belt, do I notice it.

She tenses, and I expect it, so mid reach I look over to her, hoping to give a non-threatening smile, but our faces are next to each other and too close. It causes me to freeze for a moment, as I hear her breathing stop. Her eyes start to flicker away from me, then roam lower, until suddenly she looks away. Even in the dark of the car, I can see her cheeks tinted and it reminds me of all the side looks and flickered glances she was giving me while we in the bar, ones I put off as nervousness. There was something…familiar about it. About the brown in her eyes when they held mine, and then when other attributes held her attention. I only take a moment to allow the gears in my head to start turning, before quickly grabbing the seatbelt, and fastening it.

Once my hands are back on the steering wheel, I take a deep breath, and hear her do the same.

"I'll go slow." I say, as I start the car and slowly pull out of my parking space.

We're silent for the ride, and I'm grateful for it, because I'm starting to remember her now.

Back at the castle, that was filled with hateful secrets and angry darkness, magic saturated everything and the smell of death long since overwhelmed the smell of wild flowers that a young queen and an even younger princes once filled the halls with. I stood at the balcony that almost killed me once, sometimes thinking about finishing it's intent myself, but not this time—not this day—because today was the day that I would find Snow White. I was sure of it. And I would destroy her and then—only then could I find my own happiness. Never before.

The guards were bringing me a peasant girl that was found around Snow's camp. Of course, there was no sign of the former princess, but one was left behind. Lost little sheep.

I heard them approaching, along with the sounds of a struggling prisoner, so I turned towards them. At a distance she was all fire and fight, jerking against the rough grasp, but as I started to make my ascent on her, slow and sure steps, and a stoned face, only an arched brow that signaled any interest in this scene. Her movements started to slow, taking in the sight of me in intimidating black leather, and hair that added almost another foot to my height, with heels that allowed to just tower of a women that was surely my height, if not taller. Dark and red make-up looked like murder and destruction compared to her natural features, and she was a beautiful girl, with dark skin and bright and wide eyes. She did not seem to be a fighter though, her frame too small, but there was spirit in her, which caused my lips to twitch up in a smirk.

"Release her." My hand waved the guards off of her. "There is certainly no need for physical force, when all I wish to do is have a bit of a conversation."

She didn't respond, but her eyes glanced over towards the large space of the open balcony, with a flickering gaze.

"I wouldn't." I spoke, taking another step towards her, with an dark smile starting to inch across my face. "It's quite a fall, and surely you have a family waiting for you, dear." My words were pointed, her eyes moving to the wedding ring she wore, one that I saw the moment I got close enough to.

"What's your name?" There was softness in my voice, but even I could tell how fake it sounded lately, no kindness left inside me, not for those aligned against me.

The woman didn't answer, so I waved off her silence with a gentle flick of my wrist. "Oh, it doesn't matter anyway. Your identity can stay yours, dear. The only use I have for you is to know Snow White's location." I leaned into her space just slightly, scanning the contours of her face, before whispering. "People like to be useful to me. That's how they stay alive."

"I don't know where she is." Her voice was stronger than I expected, and I looked back up at the guards briefly while speaking.

"Well, thank God you didn't bring me a mute." My words were sharp as I rolled my eyes and looked back at her.

"Since you are fully capable of speaking, tell me; shall you serve your purpose and see your family again?" The corners of my lips started to rise. "Or shall I find other uses for you? As it stands, it would seem a waste to kill such a young and pretty girl." My smile grew dark, and as the back of my knuckles brushed against her cheek, I heard her take in a sharp breath, those flickering eyes, moving to my lips, then slowly trailed lower to the prominent cleavage. It almost made me laugh, as I moved my hand to tilt her chin up.

"Don't stray too far, dear. You'll never find your way out." I whispered, with all sorts of dark tones, causing her to shiver in my stare. I took another step, almost touching her body with mine. "Your husband…" My fingers traced the line of her jaw absently, softly, almost comfortingly. "He's a lucky man. Does he know though? How quickly your glance strays to those with more…" I licked my lips, and her eyes followed. "Ample attributes?"

"I don't—" She protested loudly, and I shushed her, closing the space between us once more when she took a step back.

"Oh, of course not, dear. You're the good girl they always taught you to be, aren't you?" It was almost cruel and yet almost sympathetic, the way I said that, and she started to breath heavy, evidence of such from her body and chest moving harshly against the corset of her dress. My sight caught on her this time, nails trailing lower down her neck. This could be a good day, I decided. I could find Snow White, and get a new toy all at the same time. This was turning out better than I had expected. "Yes, I think you'll tell me everything I want to know." My fingers traced along the curve of her cleavage, as I moved my lips against her ear. "By the time I'm done with you. You'll be answering questions I never even asked." A growl escaped my throat. "Would you like to know all the things I could do to you, sweet girl?" At that, the hand on her cleavage gripped her breast, as my mouth opened on her neck, teeth roughly grazing against her pulse point.

Her hands went to my shoulders, which I allowed, but immediately regretted when she used the hold to push me away from her harshly. I stumbled back—I nearly fell on the ground at the unexpected force of it, and all I could do—all this Queen could do was look at her in shock for a long moment.

"I would rather die." She spit at me fiercely, with almost disgust in her tone, but the shame was bright in her eyes.

Meanwhile red engulfed my sight, embarrassed at letting my guard down and the sharp sting of rejection hitting me deep, as if I was a simple child. I wasted not another second feeling this weakness as I waved towards my guards once more, and they quickly obeyed, grabbing her by the arms.

"Then die, you shall." My voice was low and dark, and it caused her face to drop, realizing her fate. Then with a simple nod of my head, the guards were taking her to her cell until morning when she can be executed.

Once we pull up to her new apartment, Marian lets out a breath of relief as the car stops on the side of the road.

"That was relatively painless." I say absently, still lost in thought and my tone is odd and whispered, sounding detached, and I can feel her looking at me. I clear my throat and try to clear my head as well, shaking it a bit and look over at her as she struggles with the seatbelt. I don't help her though, thinking that the last thing I need to do is invade her personal space again. She finally gets it undone, and smiles up at me with pride, and it takes all I have to smile back, because I'm still staring at her, still losing myself in thought, memories still burning into my brain.

"Are you alone?" My features cringe because that was poorly worded, and I'm acting awkward and staring too much. This isn't like me. It feels odd. "At the apartment…is there anyone—…" I don't know why I can't just say it, as if that would make it real somehow, but it's been real for the last month, so now shouldn't make any difference.

"He took Roland camping for the night." She clarifies.

"I'll walk you up then. Make sure you get in safe." I'm not sure why I say it, why I even want to, but maybe just the curiosity, a little residual protectiveness, wanting to make sure they didn't live in anything roach infested. Black mold can be an issue for older building, it's only right to make sure this structure was up to code.

She's looking at me, as if she doesn't believe any of the rationalizations I just gave myself, and I think she's going to turn down my offer, giving all the signs that she will, until she gives a small nod and a quiet, "If you'd like."

We spend some awkward moments standing in her living room. I glance around absently, and the place is small, there's no doubt about that, but at least it isn't the woods, and there's heating and air conditioning. At least it's better this way.

Marian shifts on her feet before offering me a drink, but before she can even get the sentence out, I'm interrupting her quietly.

"I remember you now." And the quiet lasts after I say it, not really knowing why I said it, because it isn't something we should talk about, especially not to each other.

"You didn't before?" She finally asks, almost sounding hurt. I stride around the apartment a bit as I talk.

"It's been longer for me than you. Much longer." My feet land me in front of Marian, but I make sure the distance is appropriate.

"…What do you remember?" It's practically a murmur when she says it, and she's embarrassed now, and really I should have just dropped her off and left.

"That I would've killed you…I'm sorry." I finish with some difficulty, because those two words have always been difficult for me, maybe it's stubborn genetics, I'm not sure.

"I didn't ask for an apology." Her eyes are narrowed on me now, almost challenging, but mostly offended. So I scoff out of instinct.

"Don't you want one though? Don't you want to see me humbled and remorseful?" There's sarcasm in my words, even as I try to hide it.

"Is that why you said it? Because you think I want it?" A shot of annoyance runs through me at that, because I don't apologize to just anyone, I don't make sure people get home safe, and do small talk, and be a polite and decent person, when there's anger and hate still burning right underneath my skin, because everything means nothing and it just turns to ash when I try to touch it. So I take a few steps, with my features hardening, and my voice almost stern—almost desperate.

"What do you want, Marian?"

And she pauses at that, a little surprised, then again maybe not. Maybe a little of something else as her eyes flicker to my lips for the hundredth time tonight, but she's obvious about it this time, painfully so.

"Nothing I should." She whispers, and it's almost like a dare, one that holds no consequences to it, and there was a woman once dressed in peasant clothing, and I pushed too hard and she pushed back, and my skin started heating up at all the wrong parts of that memory. All the parts that didn't end with her death, and pain and revenge and hate, and there are consequences to this, bright and burning.

And if she sees the spark in my eyes at her words, she makes no sign, instead she looks away and starts to turn, as if she has given up on this sad and pathetic game that two lonely people play to pretend that they have actual options in this world.

My hand moves up to cup her cheek, quickly moving her to face me once again, and my lips come down on hers.

The kiss is soft, even though I don't want it to be. I want it to be rough and painful, and tear me apart piece by piece, because then I won't have to see the blame and shock in her eyes when I pull away. But it doesn't last long enough to deepen before she's moving away slowly, and I keep my eyes closed for as long as I can, until it starts to become ridiculous, and her body is still close to mine, and she's so quiet, so they open to watch her watching me.

"Is that what you want?" I ask after a moment, with a thickened voice.

"Is that why you did it? Because you think I want it?" It was hurt and surprise and mocking all rolled into one, and I wanted to smack her in the face for all her non-answers and bad timings, and she does want me. I know she does, because that memory that feels like several lifetimes ago, was barely a month for her, and she's been watching every part of me since I walked into the bar earlier.

"Why do you think I did it?" I ask stupidly, because God, I just want to kiss her again, but with the look in her eyes I don't think she'll let me. So we're talking in a way we shouldn't, our bodies too close, I feel her breath hit my cheek, and I'm too broken to be playing out this scene in any way other than stupidly.

"I think you did it because of him."

I'm a bit taken back by that. I'm not sure why, because of course she thinks that, I should think that, anyone would think that. But this is the first moment since Marian came back that I haven't thought about him. And I don't realize it until she brings him up, and I don't even know why, because she's his, and there's nothing about her that belongs anywhere else. Except maybe for that memory, with her eyes moving over me bravely, and my lips brushing against her cheek, that moment in my castle. That belongs to me.

"When you pushed me away at my castle," I whisper, voice growing rough as I lean in a little and my lips brush against her cheek. "When I tried to kiss you, and you stopped me." My hands move to her hips, bunching the material up slightly in my grip. "Was that because of him?"

"Yes." Marian whispers back.

"If not for…him—" I don't dare say his name, I don't dare break this insanity that we've found herself in, because this is the first moment since Marian came back that I haven't felt like dying.

"Perhaps I would still be alive." She said suddenly, and I pull away a little to look at her face, trying to see if it was a slight towards me, but when I look into her eyes, I'm taken back, because there is something more behind her words.

She kisses me this time, and it's rough, her arms go around my neck almost instantly. I take the invitation to pull her against me fully, gripping her hips and wrapping my hands around her back. She opens her mouth to me almost instantly, once my tongue runs along her bottom lip. It feels good in every way that it shouldn't. The rush of it, the wrongness, the feeling of something soft instead of hard muscles and chiseled features.

When we finally break away, my lips go to her neck, kissing and running my tongue along her pulse point. Then hands on her back move lower, down her thighs and moving back up, bunching her dress up with the movements, pulling at seemingly endless material. And I do miss dresses. I miss soft skin and quiet moans, and being able to be the aggressor and the one in control, and be strong and sure. I miss this.

I'm moving us backwards walking in short steps, and she pulls the coat off my shoulders harshly, letting it fall the ground as I move my face back up to meet hers, once I do I see the lust on her features and parted and swollen lips. It actually causes a small growl to rise up in my throat, and a small squeak of surprise comes from her when I bend down at the knees, and wrap my arms around her upper thighs, gripping my wrists and locking her in my grasp before standing and lifting her off the ground. She's only scared for a moment, as I move us a few feet more so I can place her gently on the surface of the writing desk that's against the wall. I start to kiss her again, attacking her lips, biting and sucking and taking in desperate breaths, surprised at how well she can keep with my pace. Her hands move to my shoulders, causing me to tense for a moment, then they move lower over my blouse and cupping my breasts. I lean into the touch for a moment before pulling away from her—just long enough to move my hands under her dress. She keeps with my pace, lifting her hips and I pull her underwear slowly down her thighs.

"You're so beautiful." I whisper as I remove the flimsy material between her legs, and I'm about to say more, just go on and on until she's a whimpering mess, but I see her cringe at my words and close her eyes tightly.

"Just…don't call me that." She says with a pained hush, and it makes me freeze for a moment. I recognize what's on her face even as she pushes it away, so I'm quick to move my hands gently on her hips and kiss her lightly.

"Let's see then…" My words are wet against her lips. "You're so stunning." My hands moved back to her thigh. "You're so gorgeous." Fingers move between her quickly parting thighs, and I hiss in her ear, "You're so wet." And she really is, just soaked and drowning, and I feel myself clench, quickly catching up to her at the feeling alone. Marian arches against me as I move my fingers through her folds, giving a moan that cracks from the suddenness of my movements. The action causes her neck to be so exposed though, so I attack it gently, making sure not to leave marks, despite how very badly I want to.

I'm working my fingers between her legs for barely any time at all as she claws at my shoulders, suddenly begging for something she doesn't know how to beg for.

"What do you want?" My voice harsh to my ears, as my breathing is getting heavy. "Do you want to come? I'll only do it if you want me to." I finish with a devious grin that I haven't felt in so long, my fingers pushing into a little more.

"Yes, I want to." Marian gasps, her hips jerking into my hand.

Then I pull away from her suddenly, and she gasps and eyes go wide when I drop to my knees. Perhaps it's still the sight of the queen in her mind, never allowing herself to kneel for anyone. I'm not that person anymore, and the fact that she has never done this before with a woman, makes me eager, makes me want to let her experience all of it, makes me want her to remember me. To belong to me.

My tendency for possessiveness never ends well for anyone.

I also have an issue with impulse control, because as soon as I get the taste of her, it's the only thing I want on my mouth, moving my tongue against her with fevered excretion, not even caring how loud her cries get, or that her hand grips hard into my hair. I move one leg over my shoulder, gripping her thighs to keep her steady, and once she tenses against me, crying out my name, it's all I can do to keep myself from never stopping. But I want to see her face, I want to kiss her and have her taste herself, then when we break away out of breath, my lips trail the length of her neck and over her collar bone, trialing moisture in its wake.

And it stays like that for maybe minutes. Maybe hours, until the heat between us gets colder and the kisses get shorter, and she's squirming against the uncomfortable wood of the desk, so I help her down. We're silent and it starts to grow uncomfortable, so I turn and pick up the coat that's still lying on the ground. In the process my eyes catch on one of Roland's toys that's lying randomly on the floor. Just forgotten in the process of cleaning up. I stand up and grip the collar of my coat tightly, my back to Marian, panic starting to grip me.

Because she's Robin's wife, and Roland's mother, and they're a family.

I wonder briefly what it is about me that has to destroy everything that I touch. Why I'm always so broken and hurting that it makes me spread my misery to everyone around me. Because Marian doesn't deserve to have her husband and child taken from her, no more than I apparently deserve to have them given to me. I wait for the realization of what I just did to sink in with her, wait for the anger and blame to be thrown at me, and think about the disappointed look of pity from everyone when they find out how low I would sink to destroy someone's family. But it wasn't my intention. I swear it wasn't.

Instead of anger and blame though, I only hear a pleading tone come from behind me.

"You won't tell anyone about this, will you?" That causes me to look at her with some shock, seeing that self-hate and self-blame shining at me like it's a mirror. And it starts to grow in her more than me the longer I stay silent.

"If I did, I would be the first one they would blame." I say finally, smiling sadly, as I put my coat on and leave her home as fast as I can, trying to move faster than the consequences, hoping my guilt didn't catch up with me. It always did though.

I never should have gone to that bar.