OQ Happy Endings Week Day 2/Tuesday. Camelot OQ.


Regina wakes with a terrifying start, heart stopping at a crack of thunder so loud the bed shakes. She squeaks at a sudden flash of lightning, nails digging into Robin's chest as he stirs, legs shifting beneath her. "S'evrthin 'kay?" he mumbles, hand coasting uncoordinated up and down her side.

Another crack of thunder answers his question.

Regina grits her teeth and presses her nose to his chest as if she can hide herself from the storm in his warmth. Gone is the content sleepiness of only moments prior, tension coursing through her muscles in its wake. She hates thunderstorms. Hates, hates, hates them. Mother and Leopold had each instilled in her an intense fear of loud noises, the slam of a door or the breaking of an object always signaling anger and pain and tears. Robin knows she despises storms and if the way he squeezes her hand at a flash of lightning is any indication, he hasn't forgotten.

"You alright, love?" he asks quietly, sleep leaving his voice.

Regina starts to nod, but thinks better of it. He'll see right through her anyway, so she switches and shakes her head just as another rumble of thunder rolls through the sky.

Robin drops a kiss to the top of her head and slides out of bed, making his way through their darkened room. Regina sits up, nerves amplified by his absence beside her. "Where are you going?" she asks, hating the way her voice quivers and shakes.

"Just relighting the fire," Robin answers over the sound of wood knocking together. There's the distinct shing of flint on steel, a spray of sparks, and then the orange glow of a fire slowly coming back to life. She can make out the barest outline of Robin's figure as he crouches in front of the fireplace, rearranging and prodding the logs until a few strong flames emerge, casting a soft light around the room.

Robin dusts his hands off as he stands. "That should keep until the storm passes."

As if on cue, a flash of lightning skitters across the sky, a sharp roll of thunder coming not long after. Regina jumps and reaches for Robin as he makes his way back to the bed, yanking him to her as she lays back down and pulls the covers up tight again. He oofs a bit in surprise, but doesn't comment on her haste to hunker beneath their quilts and furs, and she is grateful for it. Just because he knows she's afraid, doesn't mean she isn't embarrassed by it.

"I feel like a child," she mutters after another particularly loud crack of thunder has her turning her face harder into his shoulder.

"Nonsense," Robin dismisses. "There's nothing childish about being afraid." He kisses her forehead and pulls her in closer, encompassing her in a warmth that makes her shiver. "You know, back in Sherwood, whenever it stormed, the men and I, we'd make a game of it. We'd all try to fire an arrow at a tree and time it just right so the arrow stuck when the thunder cracked, and whoever had the best timing won."

Regina smiles against his neck. "And did you ever win?"

"I always won, milady" Robin boasts proudly.

"You and your timing," she chuckles, sucking in a breath as lightning illuminates the room. Robin cups his hand against the back of her head, pressing her to him as the thunder starts to crackle a few moments later. The thunder settles, but the little boy sleeping just a room over does not, a frightened "Papa!" sounding through the castle's thick stone walls.

"You're not the only one who hates thunderstorms, it would seem," Robin muses. He kisses her forehead and then moves to slide out of bed once more, stopping when Regina, sitting up again, grabs his hand.

"Don't take too long," she requests.

Robin smiles and leans in to steal a kiss from her lips. "I'll be back in a minute," he promises, hurrying his pace when Roland calls for him again.

She watches him go and pulls the covers up over her bent knees, burying her face in the softness of the quilt as the rain picks up, sputtering furiously against the windows. She curses her mother and Leopold for conditioning such a fear in her. The crack of the thunder is nothing compared to the sting of a palm or the lick of a blade, but it hurts and harms and scares all the same.

More thunder rumbles, not quite as loud, but longer and lingering, the sound slowly dying off in the distance. That she can handle. It's not so sudden, not so sharp. It doesn't catch her off guard as much. She wishes they were back in Storybrooke, wishes they weren't in some unfamiliar castle in an unfamiliar land. She's already on edge here in Camelot, and the jittery nerves that erupt with every rumble of thunder certainly do not help.

"See?" Robin's soft voice comes from the doorway. "She's awake too."

"R'gina?" a small voice mumbles.

She looks up to see Roland in his father's arms, hair sticking up in all directions as he clutches his stuffed monkey to his chest, a few drying tear tracks shining on his cheeks. "Yes, sweetheart?"

"Can I come sleep with you and Papa?" the little boy asks, rubbing his eyes. "The thunder is scary."

"Of course, baby. Come here," Regina answers, folding back the comforter and patting the space beside her.

Robin sets him down on the floor. Roland scurries over and scrambles up into bed, foregoing the spot Regina had indicated in favor of her lap. He tucks his legs around either side of her hips and curls against her chest, monkey held tightly to his stomach.

Regina presses a kiss to the top of his head, wrapping her arms around his torso. "It's alright, baby, there's nothing to be afraid of," she comforts even as she waits impatiently for Robin to get back into bed so he can comfort her in turn.

"I don't like thunderstorms," Roland mumbles miserably, his voice muffled in his monkey's fur.

"Me neither," Regina sighs, hugging him close as thunder sounds once again.

Robin crawls back in beside her and leans back against the headboard, opening his arms for Regina to scoot back and snuggle in close again. Once she's safely tucked into him, Roland tucked into her, he reaches for the covers and cocoons the three of them in cozy warmth. Regina closes her eyes and exhales, flinching only slightly at the next crack of thunder.

"Papa said the thunder is 'cuz the giants in the sky are fighting and wrestling and knocking over all the trees," Roland states, popping his head up. "Right, Papa?"

Robin nods. "That's right, son. Like when Uncle John and Uncle Much wrestle."

Roland giggles. "They look funny when they do that."

"I can imagine," Regina mutters under her breath, earning a good-natured poke to the ribs from Robin. "I don't think I would enjoy watching two large, grown men wrestle in the dirt for fun."

"Oh, it's not for fun. They do it for exercise," Robin explains.

Regina laughs. "Exercise? Those two-"

Thunder cuts her off, a particularly loud, nasty clap that has Roland squeaking as he hugs her tightly. "I wish the giants would stop fighting!" he exclaims, bringing his monkey up to his face. "I don't like it when they fight!"

"Me neither," Henry says from the doorway, scratching the back of his head and causing all three to look up.

"You're 'fraid of the thunder, too, Henry?" Roland asks.

Henry nods as he lopes his way over to the bed, smiling sheepishly at his mother. Thunder had always been a fear of Henry's, ever since he was little, and even though he has realler, more scary things to worry about now that he's older, he still jumps at a clap of thunder.

Regina pulls back the covers and scoots over, making room for her eldest to cuddle his way into her side, resting his head on the shoulder unoccupied by Roland. Regina drops a kiss to Henry's hair as she rocks Roland back and forth, closing her eyes to listen to the drumming of the rain outside. That sound is soothing, she could instantly fall asleep to the easy pitter patter of a summer shower, but no sooner has she closed her eyes than lightning flares through the room again. A few seconds pass and then the thunder follows, a low growl that quickly escalates to a sharp crash.

Roland whimpers against her chest as Henry winces, turning his head against her shoulder. And Regina, try as she might, can't help but tense up until the rumble has passed.

Robin presses a sympathetic kiss to her temple and then lifts his arm from around her back to reach for Roland, pulling him off her lap and onto his. "How about we have a story while we wait for the storm to pass?" he suggests, shifting until he's more slouched against the headboard so Roland can lay on his chest.

Regina opens her now empty arms for Henry, who wastes no time in snuggling into her embrace, warming her heart at his open display of affection despite his age. "A story, hm?" she echoes, tilting her head to rest on Robin's shoulder. "What kind of story?"

"One of Papa's stories," Roland insists. He sounds awake, but his eyes are drooping, the late hour getting the better of him in spite of his fear. "Papa tells the best stories."

"It should be a story about all of us," Henry chimes in, yawning big and wide. "All of us on some great adventure."

Robin chuckles, low and warm, as he rubs a soothing hand up Roland's back. "Alright. Let's see… I think I may know just the tale. Once upon a time, there was a queen, and she was the most beautiful queen in all the realms…"


Robin doesn't count his blessings often. He's not a terribly reflective man. He sees life for what it is and doesn't stop to ponder it that much. But tonight, as the rages of a summer thunderstorm fizzle into soft drops of rain on the window, thunder and lightning lost to the distance, he takes a moment to stop and just look at the three blessings beside him.

Roland had fallen asleep near the beginning of the story. He is only four, after all. His eyelids had drooped and fluttered for a few minutes until he couldn't resist the call of sleep any longer and fell boneless against his father. Regina was, surprisingly, quick to follow Roland to dreamland, her beautiful eyes falling shut before Robin reached the climax of the story. Her breathing had evened, her muscles relaxed, and Robin was grateful that she found sleep once more. Henry had held out the longest, waiting to hear how the brave knight and noble prince reunited the queen with her thief, his eyes not closing until the happily ever after.

"Roland's right," Henry had yawned, turning over onto his stomach. "You do tell good stories." And then he had been out, leaving Robin to look upon the three most important people in his life.

Three blessings laid out side by side, all sleeping safe and warm, calmed by the comfort their togetherness brings. Soothed into sleep by the sound of his voice, the steadiness of his words. Robin shifts until he's laying on his side and stretches an arm out across Roland, fingertips curling around Regina's arm, the backs of his knuckles brushing Henry's elbow. He closes his eyes and breathes. Counts his blessings, one, two, three, and then joins them in sleep.