The next morning, with Roland still curled comfortably against her, Regina woke as the door creaked. Michael poked his head in, beckoning silently to her. Her brow creased, mind still muddled by sleep, but she disentangled herself from the little boy, kissing his hair as he shifted, and joined the Merry Man at the door.
"Somebody t' see ye, Milady," he whispered, and for one absurd moment, she thought, Will I never convince these men to stop giving me titles? Then she saw just who that somebody was.
"Robin!" He was dirty and drooping and trail-sore, but they were in each other's arms and everything was right in the world. She went up on her tip toes and kissed him, laughing a little as he pulled her even closer and curled his hand into her hair.
It took Regina a moment to notice the smell permeating the hallway, and half a second longer to realize it was coming from the man in her arms. The man who currently had one hand in her hair and the other wrapped around her waist.
Her eyes flew open and she pushed away from him, ignoring the mildly hurt but curious look in his eye. Robin started to say something, but she cut him off. "Robin, you stink! What the hell were you doing?"
His eyebrows flew nearly to his hairline, and a devilish sparkle showed in his tired eyes as he replied, "Well, dear, that's what happens when one rides through the night, one gets a little sweaty." She scowled as he used her signature term of endearment and he smiled.
"A little? You could supply a lake! And did the horse throw you and you land in a compost heap?" She waved a hand in front of her nose and coughed a little for good measure.
"No, as a matter of fact, it didn't," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I just had to cut through part of the Swamp to make it here sooner, that's all. Because you called me home." he added.
They were standing quite close now, Robin bending slightly at the waist to meet her glare for glare, and Regina couldn't help but smile inwardly. No matter how bad he smelled, or how sweaty he was, he was hers, and that was enough. "Indeed I did," she agreed, voice dropping an octave. "And I'll have you know that I am quite glad you're back, Robin."
"How glad?" he matched her tone and leaned a little closer, just enough to make her glance down at his lips.
Then Michael cleared his throat and ruined the moment. Her face wanted to burn in embarrassment, but Robin's arm around her waist steadied her. "He'll be awake soon," the man whispered, a good natured smile creasing his face.
"Yes, the message said something about Roland." Robin's eyes sparked with worry but Regina shook her head.
"It's alright. He had a nightmare and called for you. Come here." She took his hand and went to lead him into his son's room. "Bring us breakfast in bed and I'll make whatever you want for a week!" she added conspiratorially to Michael as they passed. The man chuckled and nodded quickly, once again disappearing down the hall. The Merry Men had learned quickly of Regina's abilities in the kitchen, not that (many) of them were brave enough to ask for something outright just yet.
Roland was splayed across the bed, looking for Regina or his father even in his sleep. She couldn't help but smile as she slipped back under the blankets, drawing his curly head into her lap and winking quickly at Robin. Shaking the little boy's shoulders gently, she murmured, "Roland, sweetheart. Wake up."
He groaned and snuggled closer to her legs, keeping his eyes firmly shut.
Regina smothered a laugh and looked up to see Robin squelching one of his own behind a gloved fist.
"Come on, honey, it's time to wake up," she tried again, tousling his hair. He was lying with half his body across her legs, and she wiggled them a little for good measure. No change.
Robin crossed to the other side of the bed, winking at her with sparkling blue eyes. He eased into the bed next to his son, and Regina heard the little bed creak dangerously at the weight of its charge plus two adults. He slipped both hands under his son, flipped him onto his back and tickled him around the middle. "Are you gonna wake up and see me or what?"
"Papa!" Roland exclaimed, eyes flying open. He giggled uncontrollably as his father tickled him, laughs turning to shrieks of glee as Regina joined in, catching his little feet in her hands. He kicked away, scrambling upright in his father's arms to hug him around the neck.
The father buried his face in his son's neck, and Regina's eyes clouded with tears yet again. That's it, she thought, smiling unashamedly, I've gone soft.
No, not soft, a quiet voice said. Loving. Her smile only grew.
Suddenly Roland reared back from Robin exclaiming, "Papa, you stink!" He pinched his nose shut with two fingers and continued in a slightly higher voice, "What did you step in? Bear do?"
Robin chuckled and shot a glare at Regina, who raised her eyebrows and said, "See? I told you."
"Well," Robin made a big show of gathering a wiggling, giggling Roland into his lap before continuing, "after I went to see Old Man Barnaby, I was on my way to Wyrren's when I got a message saying I was needed at home; something about missing breakfast." His brow furrowed theatrically.
"And?" Roland prodded him in the ribs, eager for more of his papa's latest adventures.
"And the only way to get from Wyrren's house to here quickly is through the Swamp," his father said simply. "So I did. I went through the Swamp." He looked down at his son and smiled. "The end."
"But Papa, why do you stink so bad?"
"Oh, that!" He seemed to have completely forgotten the fact that he reeked enough to curl his own stock-straight hair. "I met up with the Swamp Monster, is all. Went a couple rounds with 'im, I guess you could say."
Roland's eyes widened as Regina tried not to roll her own. She saw nothing wrong with telling the little boy stories, but sometimes Robin was too much an actor for his own good. "Really? Did you beat him?"
Robin threw his arms wide, sending a fresh wave of stink into the room. "Would I be sitting here right now if I didn't? Of course I did, boy. You wanna know how?" he added, fixing his son in a fierce blue stare.
"Yeah!" Roland clapped his hands excitedly.
Robin sat back and crossed his arms, for which Regina was incredibly grateful as she was finally able to chance a breath. "Maybe later. I'm more interested in what the message had to say."
The little boy's brow creased. "What's inter'sting about a message?" he asked, and Regina had to smile a little at his pronunciation. "Can't you just finish the story, Papa? Please?" He wrapped his arms around his smelly father, taking no shame in begging.
"Hey there, boyo," Robin said, pulling back from Roland's grip. "More on that later. What's this I hear about you having nightmares?"
His little eyes clouded for a moment, but then the boy smiled and said, "I did have one, but Regina came and stayed with me and made me that!" He pointed to the dream catcher mounted on the wall above his bed. The glimmer had gone, fading into a polished sheen on the bent wood of the circular frame and sparkles of sunlight on the webs. The three streamers still waved a little in the breeze. He looked to her and added, "And she said it meant she'd always be watching over me. She said the ancients kept them in their houses, and…."
The little boy prattled on contentedly as his father met Regina's eyes across the bed. Thank you, they said, and she smiled, You're welcome. She leaned forward as he did and their lips met in a tender kiss.
"You're squishing me!" Roland bellowed in his tiny voice, pushing against both their shoulders as they laughed and broke apart.
"But can you blame me?" Robin exclaimed, gesturing at her.
The little boy studied her for a moment, and Regina tried not to laugh as his face scrunched up around the edges. "No, not really," he said after a moment, sending both adults into fits of laughter; so much so that Robin almost fell backwards off the bed.
A throat cleared itself at the door, and three heads snapped around at the sudden scent of toast and eggs. Regina could almost see the water gathering in Robin's mouth. "Breakfast is served," Michael announced, raising the laden tray.
"But I thought you said we couldn't eat in our rooms, Papa," Roland looked at his father questioningly and wiped his curly bangs from his eyes.
"I think we can make an exception, just this once," Robin said, beckoning Michael forward. He took the tray and the Merry Man bowed slightly—at her, Regina noticed, still a tad bothered by it. But, old habits die hard.
As Roland feasted on his eggs and fresh milk, Regina drew Robin to the doorway for a more private talk. "Why don't, before we eat, you go and get changed out of those clothes? They really are awful. And take a rest, Robin, you're falling asleep standing up!" She took one arm in her hands, trying to support him even as he slumped towards the wall. He looked pale, she noted, with dark circles under his eyes and beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead.
"How far away were you when you got the message?" she asked quietly, guilt beginning to knaw at her stomach.
"About half a day's ride," Robin yawned, the mirror of his son, and Regina felt sick. She shouldn't have made that promise to Roland, shouldn't have told Michael to hurry Robin home, shouldn't—
No. She would never regret anything she said to that little boy, ever. He trusted her completely, and she owed it to him and his father to trust herself. But, she'd been…not exactly right in making Robin hurry home over a nightmare that was already almost handled, so she had to make it right now.
"Okay. You go and get freshened up, I'll keep Roland from eating all the toast, and then we can all eat together and not have to worry about the smell upsetting our stomachs, " she added, pushing him none too gently from the room.
"Isn't Papa going to eat with us, Regina?" Roland asked as she turned back towards the bed.
"Of course he is, sweetheart, just as soon as he gets into some fresh clothes; he was dirtying up your bed!"