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evilqueens · 7 years

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A vampire mermaid AU. After surviving a shipwreck caused by deadly sea creatures, a recovering Robin’s left to wonder why he was spared. He wasn’t left completely unscathed by them however, and he soon learns that one particular mermaid may not be finished with him after all.

yooo. guess what i finally finished! here’s chapter two of the (still untitled) vampire mermaid au (like tbh at this point i will take suggestions on the title because honestly i just don’t know).

tagging my fav cheerleaders @idoltina @the-alpha-incipiens (who both were so kind as to look over this) and @the-notsoevil-queen (who made art and more art like seriously go look at it bc i’m still crying about it).

and here’s part one.

(chapter two - bitten)

Three days Robin spends in bed, and by the the last evening he swears he’s about to go mad from the tediousness of doing nothing. His aches serve as a distraction at first — that first morning was the worst when he woke to muscles feeling even more sore than the night before, and he couldn’t deny how nice the prospect of sleeping it off sounded. But a whole day of sleep quickly lent to a good portion of that night with him wide awake and having nothing to do.

Mary Margaret had fussed over him the entire time, insisting he sleep once he’d decided he’d had enough of doing so, bringing him his meals herself and keeping him company while he ate. She’d taken Roland to the market, and had come back to the manor delivering well-wishes from everyone in Mist Haven who knew Robin, and it had made him itch even more to leave this damn room and get a proper start to his summer.

Today he’s finally going to get to do just that — no matter what his aching body or Mary Margaret had to say about it.

He changes into the clothes Leo Blanchard had been surprisingly thoughtful enough to come deliver to Robin himself, and Robin spares a quick thank you to the Fates that he hadn’t thought to bring anything of particular value with him on this trip, or else it would’ve found its way to the bottom of the ocean. He trains himself to ignore the pains that shoot through his body as he moves his way around the room. But he’s still left a bit breathless by the time he’s deemed himself presentable enough to go out, and he’s grateful that Mary Margaret had been so kind as to care for Roland herself these past few days — he’s not sure he would’ve quite managed getting them both ready for the day.

He takes a quick look in the mirror, his eyes immediately landing on the bandage on his neck, and he sighs. The sting of the bite has subsided to slight pains that come and go, and the redness and swelling have let up a bit as well, but Robin can’t help the unease of having the wound as he changes the small bandage for it. The relief of living through a mermaid attack is still fierce, and strengthened by the fact that his boy made it through something that’s normally unavoidably fatal with barely a scratch on him. But seeing the bite in the mirror fills Robin with a vague sense of violation, along with unwanted questions regarding how exactly he and Roland ended up safely on Mist Haven shores, miles away from where the ship had crashed.

He covers up the bite again, and idly considers throwing on a scarf despite the hot and humid weather. Another discomfort at having the bite — people looking, people asking questions. Mary Margaret stares at the bandage far more than Robin appreciates, and he’s loathe to go into town and receive the same attention.

He makes his way downstairs, each step just a touch away from brutal as the sore muscles in his legs and his back protest. He makes sure to mask the pain however, as Mary Margaret insisting he spend another day holed up in his appointed room is not even close to an option he’s willing to entertain.

He finds her and Roland in the kitchen, along with a maid washing dishes who offers him some breakfast. He turns her down, much to Mary Margaret’s dismay.

“I’ll eat at the tavern,” Robin assures her. “I’ve wasted three days of this trip lying in bed, I’m far enough behind schedule as it is,” he jokes.

Mary Margaret quirks an eyebrow, unamused. “You were recovering,” she corrects him. “And you have the whole summer to catch up with everyone in town. You need to eat,” she insists, and Robin glances at the poor maid, who’s stopped washing the dish in her hands and is waiting unsurely for direct instruction.

Robin nods towards the leftover food sitting on the stove. “Scrambled eggs sound lovely,” he says, and the maid smiles in assent and sets the soapy plate down. He immediately cuts off Mary Margaret’s insistences of him having more than scrambled eggs, “A plate of scrambled eggs is more than enough to get me to the tavern, where I promise you I will insist they treat me like a king.” He smirks at her scowl.

“Papa,” Roland pipes up before Mary Margaret can continue her argument, “can we go to the beach?”

The air gets tinged with tension. “What for, my boy?” Robin asks, though he certainly doesn’t need to.

“I want to see the mermaid,” Roland answers, oblivious to the strain in the mood. He pushes around crumbs of food on his plate with his spoon.

Robin sees Mary Margaret glance at the bandage on his neck.

Robin moves to pick the boy up, swallowing down a groan as his muscles ache in protest. “Maybe later my boy,” he says with a slight tightness in his voice that he hopes Mary Margaret doesn’t notice. “First we’ve got to go see all our friends at the pub. I know Will and Little John are dying to see you!” He ruffles Roland’s curls, earning a giggle and a nod. “Let’s get to it then!”

He forces his aching legs to move forward, as quick as he can to avoid Mary Margaret’s protests, though he spares an apologetic glance at the maid standing with a plate of scrambled eggs in hand.

He manages to make it out the front door before acquiescing to his screaming muscles and putting Roland down, and he counts it as an accomplishment.

—

It’s impossible to venture out into the village and not think of Marian.

It’s the main reason Robin waited so long after the loss of her to visit Mist Haven. For most of her life, this place was the only home she’d ever known — the only place she’d ever cared to call a home. As much as he knew she enjoyed the forests of Sherwood, he’d long since accepted the ingrained sense of peace and comfort Marian carried for this small, seaside village. And he knows, if she’d still been around, they eventually would’ve found themselves back here, settled in a nice little cottage, with Marian raising Roland to love the sea as much as she did.

The ache in Robin’s heart is one he knows will never fully disappear.

The heat of the sun is more uncomfortable than Robin expects as he and Roland make their way through the village square. It’s late in the morning, not yet noon but close, and Robin supposes his lack of tolerance for the heat is probably more due to all the other discomforts on his body.

Trying to distract himself, he takes a good look at the square, at the people, and keeps an eye on Roland, who’s skipping a few paces in front of him — most likely impatient with the irritatingly slow stride Robin’s managing. He takes note of familiar establishments, Marian’s favorite shops, and new places he plans to come visit in the next couple of days. As Mary Margaret had pointed out, he has the whole summer to become reacquainted with Mist Haven and all that he’s missed in three years he’s been gone. And he’s determined not to miss a single spot.

A nostalgic warmth fills his chest that brings some relief to the ache in his heart.

When they reach the tavern, Robin takes hold of Roland’s hand and opens the door for them. There’s not much change in humidity inside the pub, but Robin breathes out a sigh of relief once he loses the feeling of the sun’s rays on the back of his neck.

The tavern’s not busy, probably won’t see more people till lunchtime at the earliest, and Robin guides Roland towards the counter with ease. He watches Little John take notice of their arrival with a huge smile, and the man sets down the rag and mug he was wiping. Roland hollers when he sees him, escaping Robin’s grip on his hand and running the rest of the way to the counter.

“Little John!”

John’s one of few people from town Roland’s already gotten to meet, thanks to the occasional trips they’ve made to Sherwood over the last few years. Little John, a friend Robin’s had long before they’d both stumbled into this little seaside village together, had visited the most recently along with Will Scarlet, and it’s the most vivid memory four-year-old Roland has of any of his honorary relatives. The excitement emanating from the boy brings a smile to Robin’s face.

He braces himself for the onslaught of pain, and then picks up Roland and places him on the counter. He can’t help the tight grunt of pain he lets out, and the grin on John’s face falters.

“Take it easy, there,” John tells him, a big hand moving to grip Roland’s leg and slide him closer. Roland giggles at the motion. “I hear you’ve had a rough couple of days.”

Understatement, Robin thinks, and John smirks at his friend’s grimace.

“I’m a bit worse for wear,” Robin admits, taking a seat on a stool. His mind brings forth a brief flash of remembrance for the men he saw lose their lives a few days ago, and his eyes turn somber.

John’s face turns apologetic. “The guys and I would’ve made our way over to the Blanchard manor to see you,” he explains, “but y’know, I’ve never been as close to good ol’ Leopold as you have.” John gives him a wink, which Robin meets with a tight smile.

“I wouldn’t have been pleasant company anyway,” Robin dismisses. “Not much excitement in watching me toss and turn in bed for three days.”

“Well how about you catch me up on how you ended up bed-ridden in the first place?” When the discomfort doesn’t leave Robin’s face, John adds, “Maybe over a drink?”

“I can’t imagine you haven’t already heard what happened,” Robin said, “If not from the rumor mill, then at least from Mary Margaret.”

John smirks at the quip, but pushes on, “Nothing like hearing it from the source himself. Now c’mon, tell me exactly how you managed to walk away from a ship doomed to mermaids.”

“A mermaid helped!” Roland pipes up, and Robin suppresses a groan.

“A mermaid helped?” John repeats, a little dumbfounded. He indulges Roland nevertheless, “You don’t say?”

Roland nods enthusiastically. “Yes, she helped me and Papa and she bringed us to the beach!”

John looks up at Robin’s tight expression and raises an eyebrow. Not quite knowing what to say (not quite knowing if he could truthfully dispute Roland’s story, if he’s honest), Robin settles on what he does remember. “I fell off the ship, somehow ended up on the shore, and woke up at the Blanchard manor.”

“With a bite,” John adds, looking pointedly at the bandage on Robin’s neck. “You forgot that part.”

“I don’t really know much about that part.”

John stares silently at him for a moment before shaking his head. “Only you would get attacked by mermaids and live to tell the tale,” he marvels. He raises the glass he’d been cleaning in the air. “Tonight, I say we drink, to the almighty Prince of Thieves —”

Robin rolls his eyes at the title, but he can’t stop the smile curving his lips. Drinks that night sound great, if he’s honest. A night out with friends he’s missed dearly. Even if the attention will be on the tragedy he just survived, or the wound on his neck, it’s still step toward some normalcy — toward the idea he’d had of how he’d be spending his trip before even having boarded that boat.

“—with charms so strong not even a mermaid could resist,” John finishes, and Robin’s smile falters.

“You believe him?” Robin asks, glancing at Roland who’s gleefully lifted his fist in the air to match the glass in John’s hand.

“I believe the kid has no reason to lie,” John answers. And despite the absurdity of it, Robin can’t find it himself to disagree.

—

The steady sound of the waterfall gushing a few meters away has become rather comforting in the short while Regina’s been its presence, and with each passing second she’s even more reluctant to head home.

The end of her tail dips into the water as she sits at the edge of a rocky piece of land, shoveling up to splash water as she braids parts of her hair. It’s been three days since she’s been home — three days since she saved the boy and his father, and she has since been too troubled by her actions to face talking to anyone. Particularly anyone who might’ve seen what she had done.

She doesn’t regret saving them (the boy’s sweet, brown eyes and dimpled cheeks haven’t left her thoughts since she deposited him next to his unconscious father that evening), but she knows her motives would be troubling to her peers — laughable to most — and altogether a great opportunity for them to bring up her mother.

No one shies away from any chance to badmouth Cora.

Once Regina finishes her braid she starts on another, resolved to stay just a little longer before finally making it back to the reefs. The longer she stays away, the more questions she’ll have to face. She’s halfway through the braid when she senses movement in the water of someone fast approaching. She flips her tail back out of the water, let it land next to her with a wet thud. Her eyes narrow as she sees the bright green flash moving towards her in the water, and though she immediately recognizes who it is, she stays tense, bracing herself for the conversation she’s been trying to avoid for the past couple of days.

Tink’s head breaks through the surface bun-first, and she moves her hands to grip the edge of land where Regina’s seated. “What’re you doing here?” she asks, raising her voice against the gush of the waterfall. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back for days.” There’s a hint of exasperation in her voice.

“What for?” Regina asks, hoping to direct the subject away from her.

“Aurora’s baby was born,” Tink tells her, and Regina feels a tinge of guilt in her chest. She and Aurora aren’t close; but still, the birth of a baby is an occasion involving the whole family of mermaids in the reefs. A hint of irritation sweeps through her, knowing that missing such an event had to have drawn attention to her absence by more than just Tink.

“I’m sure she managed just fine without me being there,” Regina says. “Why aren’t you there now?” she asks.

Tink glares at her. “I’ve been looking for you!” she shoots back, miffed. “I hope whatever it is that’s kept you here is worth Blue’s wrath when you get home.” She looks satisfied when Regina’s face falls.

“Of course she would take the time through helping someone give birth to notice I’m not there,” Regina mutters. She lets the end of her tail fall back into the water.

“So why weren’t you there?” Tink probes.

“I’ve had a lot on my mind,” Regina answers vaguely. “Too much noise in the reefs to think clearly.”

Tink raises an eyebrow. “And what exactly is on your mind that you’ve been away for three whole days? I asked everyone who came back from that hunting trip for you, even Zelena” — Tink makes a face at the name — “and no one knew what happened to you.”

Relief floods through Regina. She strongly hopes it’s the truth, and no one had paid enough attention to witness her heroic antics. She thinks of the man she left half-conscious on the shore, and one of her other worries comes to sit first on her mind. Without really thinking about it, Regina asks, “What do you know about the biting bond?”

Tink’s face turns to one of confusion. “Sorry?”

Regina looks away. “You know, when you bite a human, but don’t kill them. Surely your access into the Knowledge Caves has granted you some information on that.”

“It’s not something I’ve ever cared to look into,” Tink answers unsurely, still thrown by Regina’s question. “Why do you ask?” She gives Regina a suspicious look. “You didn’t… do that, did you?”

Regina’s attention goes back to the braids in her hair, which is slightly drier with the amount of time she’d been sitting out of the water. She notices the dryness of her upper tail now as well.

“Regina,” Tink says firmly. “Did you create a bond with a human?” There’s some admonishment in her tone that Regina immediately resents, and she rolls her eyes at the little blonde.

Seeing no point in lying, she responds with, “You say it as if I set out to do so.”

“Well I don’t really see how you could’ve done it on accident,” Tink says. “Even if for any reason you were interrupted mid-bite, they still would’ve drowned.”

Regina sighs, leaning forward to cup some water in her hands. Letting the water fall on the scales of her tail, she starts, “You know I don’t like eating human children…”

Tink’s eyes soften slightly, but she doesn’t answer.

Regina continues, “There was a little boy on the ship we hunted three days ago. He fell overboard, and… I couldn’t handle watching anyone get to him. So I rescued him.” She takes a breath. “His father was on the ship. And I wasn’t gonna leave the boy without him, without someone to care for him, or what was the point?” Though her resolve was solid at the time, the excuse now sounds weak saying it aloud to someone who doesn’t share the same position as her.

She avoids Tink’s eyes, cupping more water in her hands to drop on her tail. She keeps going, “I saved the man, but I didn’t get a chance to feed beforehand. So I had to bite him…” She awkwardly looks over at Tink then, having nothing else to say.

Tink’s eyes are wide as she looks at Regina, seeming at a loss for what to say. “That’s…” she trails off.

Regina rolls her eyes at her friend’s reaction (overreaction in her opinion). “It’s not like I’m gonna do anything about it,” she tells her, exasperated. “I’ll never even see him again.”

“Won’t you?” Tink asks. The question throws Regina, and Tink continues, “I may not know the details of bonding, but I do know basics. They’re not just bound to you, you’re bound to them too. You don’t sense him at all?”

“No,” Regina answers, and to her relief it’s the truth. Yes, she’s spent the last three days thinking of nothing but him and his son (were they rescued? has he recovered?), but aside from this unhealthy new obsession, she hasn’t felt any different since having bitten the man.

Tink’s eyebrows knit in confusion. “Really? That’s not how I’ve heard it goes.” Her eyes brighten with an idea. “Oh, Miss Nimue would know for sure, we could go ask —”

“No!” Regina launches herself into the water, Tink moving back instinctively. “You will tell no one about this,” she tells her friend darkly. “I told you, I feel nothing, and I’ll never see him again so it doesn’t matter. Let’s just go home,” she says, and dives underwater.

Tink follows her, looking uncertain. “This could be dangerous Regina, you should try to —”

“There is no danger,” she cuts Tink off. Then, knowing Tink’s thoughts must have drifted to Cora at least once during this conversation (it always comes back to Cora), Regina asserts, “I won’t go near another human ever again and let them live to tell the tale.”

Although she means it as the truth, it sounds like a lie to her ears.

—

Robin can’t sleep.

It’s been over an hour since he’d returned from the tavern, with just enough ale in his belly to give some relief to the sore spots on his body. But apparently, not enough to lull him into sleep. The manor is dark and quiet, and Robin takes a seat on the couch in the parlor, the thought of lying awake in his bed not at all an enticing one after having done nothing but for the past three days.

Instead, he sits back on the couch and lets his thoughts run. He thinks of Marian, whose memory is so engraved in every inch of this town that he sometimes finds it hard to breathe. He wonders if he’ll be able to make it through the whole summer here when he has a memory of her for almost every part of the town, memories he hasn’t had a chance to make peace with yet, and he wonders if he’s ready to do that now.

He knows she would want this, he tries to remind himself, that she would want him here. She would want him to show Roland every place in this village that mattered to her, to share this part of his mother’s life to him because for so long it was everything to her. She would want Robin to take him to have lunch with Granny Lucas, and to show him the quirky trinket shop that wasn’t there the last time Robin was here, but he knows that Marian would’ve loved. She would want him to take Roland to the beach as often as was allowed, have him become acquainted with sand in his shoes and his curls, and learning to collect seashells and how to be mindful of the tide.

Roland wants that now, an unwanted voice reminds him, though another part of Robin is quick to argue that his constant requests to visit the beach have little to do with the beach itself and more to do with the deadly creatures living deeper in the waters. Robin sighs, rubbing his eyes as his thoughts turn back to this dreaded subject he’s learning is inevitable now.

He needs to change his bandage, he remembers, and his hand moves to gently rip the cloth off his neck. He can’t bring himself to move however, to go clean the wound and cover it up again. His mind goes back to his night at the pub, where Little John had gleefully told everyone that Robin had charmed a mermaid into saving him and Roland from certain death. And all his friends, pleasantly drunk and needing little more to celebrate, had cheered without a second thought.

He thinks back to Roland, who’s tried to get away with enough fibs that Robin knows when the boy’s being untruthful. And so he knows his son isn’t lying, he truly believes the story he’s told anyone who would listen. And though that’s not exactly enough for Robin to believe something so absurd, so unheard of, one thing is certain -- for there’s no other way he and Roland could’ve ended up safely on the shores of Mist Haven otherwise: someone (something?) in the water had saved them.

And despite his desire to just forget the incident happened and move on, Robin knows he has to find out who or what it was that did. He feels a stirring in his chest as he reaches that decision, and it seems to help solidify it as Robin tries to figure out how exactly to go about solving this mystery. The beach, something inside him says, and he doesn’t shy away from the thought this time, as he figures that’s as good a starting point as any, maybe talk to Mr. Smee again to see what he remembers, what he saw…

The beach.

He doesn’t really think about it as he gets up, moves out of the parlor and to the front door. It’s when the warm heat outside hits his face that he thinks to himself that what he’s doing is ridiculous, but it does nothing to stop him as he starts making his way towards the beach.

It’s a bit of a walk, and by the time he reaches the shores his muscles are complaining once more, but he pays his discomfort little mind as he ventures closer to the water. It’s faint, but he can hear it now; a soft tune that he now knows has been humming since he left the manor, not loud enough to reach his ears until he reached the beach, but with a luring quality strong enough to reach his heart from all the way back in the parlor.

He follows the song now, entranced. Somewhere in the back of his head he recognizes the hypnotic song, and a voice screams to turn back, to cover his ears, but the thought’s muted as Robin gets closer and the voice grows stronger. He reaches a small cluster of rocks by the waters, and his heartbeat quickens as he ventures his way through them. The moon was strong enough to light his way when he first reached the beach, but he’s careful now to watch his step amongst the dark, bumpy path, bracing his hands against boulders as he struggles to reach the water.

He sits on a low boulder resting on the sea, easing himself slowly into the shallow water. He’s wading waist-deep when the tune stops. He grips another nearby rock for purchase, his mind going foggy without the lilting guide telling him where to go.

“Interesting.”

Robin’s head whips around at the unexpected voice, and his eyes scan the sea trying to find its owner in the dark. He slowly wades further into the water, his feet beginning to lose contact with the floor of the sea, and his heartbeat quickening again as his mind slowly starts to clear. He can hear his instincts now telling him to get out of the water, but before he can process the thought enough to follow the instruction he sees her, peeking out from behind the farthest boulder.

He freezes at the sight of her, and after a moment she deems his lack of movement safe enough for her to venture forward. He notices her slight struggle with shallowness of the water and before he can tell himself not to, he’s moving forward himself to meet her. She tenses a bit as Robin approaches, but a quick glance at his eyes has a slight smirk gracing her lips.

Not breaking his gaze, she begins to wade backward now, her iridescent tail flipping forward underwater. She crooks a finger as an indication for Robin to follow her. He does, swimming deeper into the waters until they’ve reached the rock she was hiding behind. He’s submerged to the neck now, only the tips of his shoes touching the ground, and he idly realizes he went into the water fully clothed.

He stares warily at the mermaid, who seems to have lost any apprehension she might’ve had when he’d first entered the water. She’s beautiful, with long, dark hair falling over her shoulders. He has a flash of remembrance to what were probably those same thick locks blocking out the beam of the sunset almost four days ago. She seems to sense his anxiety (his fear, though he doesn’t wish to admit it), and she smiles in amusement. Her exposed teeth make him aware of the wound on his neck that he never got to re-bandage.

She moves closer, pushing into him until his back hits the side of the boulder. Her eyes are pitch black in the night, but they still seem to sparkle as she murmurs easily, “I never thought I’d see you again.”

#oq ff #oq fic #outlaw queen fic #outlaw queen #vampire mermaid au #ouat #look i wrote a thing

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