A/N: Hello so here is a new story that I had in my mind for quite some time but actually didn't get around to writing. I don't know yet how many chapters it will be but I do intent to try to make it a good story. This is completely Robin's POV. I'm giving him the backstory I wish he had in OUAT because who doesn't love Camelot? I want to thank to Taylor ( Taylor_Marisa) for reading this and helping me out with the kinks of this chapter. I will try my best to update as soon as I can since I'm also involved in an RPG blog. I hope you enjoy.

Prince and Lionheart.

His lungs are burning in a way that has his breathing going hectic pattern but the running doesn't stop.

Not until he reaches his secret hideout away from the tall stone walls of the kingdom, Camelot.

There is that panting that has become less and less of a bother ever since he started with this pursuit. Stealing from the king Arthur of Pendragon and the entire nobleman esquire, around the capital, who let their people die of hunger, an action that is unforgivable to him. He stops dry in his tracks, makes sure he really isn't being followed, before he proceeds to move forward. Step by step, the hooded man approaches his destination but there is something off in the air. A fluttering rustle of leaves gathers his attention—his senses have improved ever since his crusade started, and everything becomes more noticeable to the shadowy figure. Icy blue irises scan the area swiftly and when it was confirmed to his mind that everything was the same as usual, he pressed forward until his hideout came into view. A sense of relief washes over him the closer he gets but it is quickly replace by a certain dread that has the hair on the back of his neck lifting.

There is a rustle again and this time it has him turning around and reaching for his trusty bow.

"Show yourself." Came his deep and accented voice, waking the forest in an almost roaring momentum.

One, two, three beats, no response.

"Don't make me drag you out." The hooded man quips, waiting for his tail to leave his (or hers because let's be honest. Woman are more than capable handling this type of task) hiding spot, bow and arrow tightly gripped. Another wave of silence goes by and the man patience was starting to become less of the good kind. Brims part as to speak but were quickly interrupted by an all too familiar voice and that is when the dread really starts to sink in. He isn't scared of anything, has learned to see fear square in the eye and laugh at it but this dread is something he can't explain.

"I should have known it was you from the very beginning." The stranger voices out with a certain amusement in his tone of voice. "You have always been such a disappointment." Those words felt like venom to the hooded man veins. Apparently, he would never be enough; he would never be the person people expect him to be. Another attempt to talk was, again, interrupted by that voice he has come to despise.

"Robin of Pendragon, stealing from his own father. You certainly adore being a constant nuisance for me." His bane and malevolent voice gets thrown at Robin like it was the most natural things, well it was, his father has never been the one to coddle or reflect any sort of affection to his only son, well that he knows of anyway.

There is a huff coming from Robin, a slight poof of white air sipping out of his mouth and into the world. "Sorry for always disappointing you, father, but I quite like the way I am..." He lowers his bow, head held high leveling his father, the king, gaze. "And what I do is something my mother would be proud of." Robin finishes, safely tucking the arrow back to his quiver, and swinging the bow onto his back.

"Well your mother is dead. We would never know what she really thinks about this hobby of yours." There is a snicker behind King Arthur words, a laugh that makes fun of that fact that Robin hates so much, his mother death. It makes his legs move forward, to grab the king by the collar and push him against the nearest tree.

"And whose fault is that?" Robin nearly growls out, anger seeping through his words like a roaring heat from the more fearsome of dragons.

Queen Guinevere was a kind and soft soul. A person that with her mere touch was able to evoke kindness and love. Robin loved her with all his heart. She was his moon and sun, a soft guiding light that always separated right from wrong. Her death was of the mysterious sort and the young Prince always thought it was his father fault, to this day he still think so. He took away the only family member that actually cared for him, the only person that he has really loved with every fiber in his soul.

Arthur knows this, knows how to get under his son skin, so he uses her memory against him and creates a bubbling pride feeling in the pit of his stomach every time Robin got all worked up.

Pitiful.

"You wouldn't hurt you own father?" His voice was full of a vice that made Robin's stomach churn and bile rise up in his throat.

This man is spineless and the prince had learned that lesson the hard way. Ever since he was a little lad, he made sure to always let him know who had the power, who had the voice to speak up and who isn't part of any decision making. It was rather clear in his childhood and it is now but that doesn't mean he will abide to his father wishes, not anymore.

"You are right, I wouldn't. Unlike you I do have respect for other humans. I still have a heart." He lets go of the king's collarbone with a slight push against the tree. "What do you want father?" the question comes after taking a few step back from him, allowing the other man to recover. "I don't think you are way out of your comforts just to say 'hi.' If that were the case the visit would have been a bit more formal if you knock on my chamber doors in the castle." Strong arms fold masterfully over Robin's chest, brow perking up waiting for a valid answer to this inquiry. The king dust off his shoulders and accommodates, his now wrinkled collar into something more presentable.

"Hearts are for the weak. Why haven't you learned that important lesson, Robin? I only have been telling you this all your life." His head lifts; his gaze colliding with Robin's and a smirk makes his way onto Arthur features.

"Why can't you see I am merely looking out for your well being?"

A fleeing but bitter chuckle falls from Robin, a disbelief gleam in his oceanic hues. "My well being? Nice try, father. Don't you have jesters to tell you jokes or are you taking some lessons? If that's the case you might want to get your money back." A smirk makes place on his brims as his dome shakes from side to side in a mocking matter. The reaction he elicits from his father amuses Robin. They way his fist and jaw clenches together, or the way his nostril flares makes way for a certain satisfaction to make way.

"I will erase that wit of yours out of existence." With a snap of his fingers, the Royal Guard was surrounding Robin. "Now my dear son…" He walks closer to him, a malicious grin falling upon his brims. "Time for you…" The king pokes Robin chest, to which the archer response with a disdain sound. "…to meet your future wife."

His chambers have become his prison, a weak one, nevertheless still a prison.

It occurs to him that he is able to escape. That he possess all the skills necessary to make swift getaway and never look back. So what is stopping him? Robin isn't quite sure but if he stays any longer things will get too complicated to even attempt stepping outside of his quarters. So he paces around, his eyes on the stony floor, where dozen of crooked lines manifest and he is sure that he knows them by heart now. An eerie silence stretches on and the archer internally groans at the impatience his mind is feeling. It was wearing him down, grasping his very soul until it causes in his being an exhaustion impossible to shake from his skin. No, he needs to get away, needs to try and move out of this hell hole that once he actually had referred as home.

Because home isn't suppose to feel like jail. Home is supposed to feel like a safe haven to be. Full of love and tranquility. This castle is everything but that and it was time to finally break free of the chains that bind him here.

So he hastily walks around, picking up the necessary things to travel. He needs to travel light, he noted clearly to his mind. Wouldn't be wise to get slowed down, specially not with an army of guards that he was sure that were going to follow him once the king notice his absence. Once everything was packed, the young prince placed in a safe location, easily to be picked from when the time came to leave. Robin sits on the foot of the king size bed, waiting patiently for what is to come.

One, two, three and four and there is someone knocking on the door. The individual behind the heavy portal didn't even bother to be granted access. It flew wide opened revealing the king on the other side. There is a soft huff from Robin's part, a soft shake of his head followed by the clasp of his arm over his hard chest. "You never could respect other people privacy." The archer says with a little disdain in his tone. How this man who is supposed to be his father could provoke so much ire in his heart. He will never know.

The king brushes off his words. "I don't have time to deal with your misbehavior." With a lift of his fingers the guards are prompting Robin up and pushing him to the door. "It is time for you to meet you bride to be." A sinister glint appears on the older man that makes Robin's skin crawl with goosebumps. This cannot be good. The prince mutters to himself the moment he is rushed out of his bedchambers.

The throne room is full of nobleman and overly dress woman that are peering at him almost mockingly. He thinks, not for the first time, how much he loathes these people. Using the people's money to buy frivolous things that they will most likely forget about the very next day, or the way they look at others over their shoulders like they are worthless piece of trash. Robin simply detests this complex of gods they evince with pride and wishes there was a way to eradicate their existence. Maybe that is a bit harsh but at the moment his mind really doesn't care. Thoughts pour out of his mind like a waterfall impossible to stop and incredible strong. Thankfully, his line of thoughts was interrupted by the heavy doors opening. His icy blue eyes peer at the vision of guards with heavy armor coming in. It wasn't from their kingdom, and when his hues fell upon the crest of the foreign armada a frown immediately falls into place. It couldn't be, his father wasn't that heartless but when his head turn to regard his so called father the glint of pure evil has the prince scowling at him.

A high pitch sound crept across the air inside of the throne room. His gaze instantly moved forward to their visitor from the Saxons Cheldric kingdom, mortal enemy of Camelot. King Arthur intent to wed him off to the daughter of the other most ruthless man he has ever had the displeasure of meeting. Of course he did anything to torture Robin and benefit his own sick mind.

"I trust your journey here came with little problem." The king voiced out with a court gesture of his hand. He walks to stand in front of the newly arrived and when the head guard nodded, Robin was pushed to them. The guard moved to the side revealing the petite figure of a red head. Her beauty was incomparable. Fair sun kissed skin, long flowing red hair draped over each side of her shoulders, forest green eyes that seem endless and full red lips that look so inviting. But it felt wrong for the young prince, for some inexplicable reason her perfect features didn't appeal to him. "Robin I would like you to meet your bride to be, Rowena." Even the name felt off. He has never had problem with woman, and under other circumstances he would have court the beauty in front of him but right now is not the time and giving in is giving his father all the power over him.

"You must be joking." Robin utters in a somber tone, head craning enough to look at his father, "You expect me to marry the daughter of the man that wants to destroy out kingdom? This won't guarantee peace to our fair…" he spits out that last word, felt like he was being slapped. "…kingdom."

"Maybe not…" the king begins. "But I will guarantee me better control of your actions."

Any thoughts?