Happy birthday Nani! Your birthday present is the start of the Hocus Pocus AU that we've been talking about for what feels like forever, I really hope you enjoy this and have a birthday as amazing as you!
Robin waited outside of his son's classroom with a few other parents, eager to pick up his child so they could go home and get everything ready for that night. It was Halloween, so of course, he would be taking his son trick-or-treating. They had just moved to town, so Robin had spent the night before mapping out the route for their trick-or-treating adventure. The path was perhaps too much for his son, who was only eight years old, but Robin figured he could shorten their intended path if necessary.
Apparently lost in his plans for the evening, Robin was startled when two little arms wrapped around his legs and a little voice cried, "Papa!"
"Hello, my boy!" Robin greeted his son, his azure eyes meeting the chocolate ones of his son, bending so he could scoop him up in his arms and give him a hug before setting him down on the uniform tile that, though the color may change, seemed to be present in every school Robin had ever visited. "Are you ready to go trick-or-treating tonight?"
"Yes!" Roland yelled. Robin would've worried about the volume, but his son's excited outburst was lost in the din of children's voices that surrounded them. No one would notice if one more voice added to the mix, especially not on Halloween. He imagined that every child was just as eager to go trick-or-treating as his son was.
"Well, let's go home then, so we can start getting you in your costume," Robin said, starting to turn them around so they could walk to his car, but Roland's tug on his hand held him back.
"Wait, Papa! My friend Henry doesn't have anyone to go trick-or-treating with. He doesn't even have a costume! So can he come trick-or-treating with us? Please?"
Robin had often commented to Marian, Roland's mother, that their son's puppy eyes, dimples and smile were impossible to resist- for Robin, anyway, which was why Marian had often been the disciplinarian in their household prior to their divorce. That statement held true now as well. While Robin would have likely agreed to take in the other boy for the evening based on Roland's request alone, the look his son was giving him at the moment solidified his decision. "Of course, my boy. Where is he?"
"Come on," Roland begged, tugging on his father's sleeve. To Robin's surprise, his son dragged him from the elementary school to the connected middle school section of Roland's private school, and Robin couldn't hide his surprise at where they were headed. "Your friend is in middle school? How did you two meet?"
Roland nodded emphatically. "Yeah! They let middle schoolers have recess too, ours is at the same time!"
Robin frowned. That could end up being a dangerous situation- having kids as young as Roland be around someone in middle school. He pictured a bigger kid bullying one of the younger kids, and was about to ask Roland how that worked, but he was stopped by Roland's excited shout of recognition as an older boy came toward them. He had hair the color of caramel and emerald eyes, and Robin was happy to see the smile he wore as he greeted his son.
"Hey Roland!" the older boy said, holding his fist out for Roland to bump with his own clenched hand. "How was the rest of your day?"
"Great!" Roland exclaimed. Robin expected him to immediately launch into tales of his adventures in third grade, but he was pleasantly surprised (and, he had to admit, bursting with pride) when instead, Roland turned to him. "Henry, this is my papa. He says you can come trick-or-treating with us!"
"You can just call me Robin," he told Henry, holding out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too," Henry returned the sentiment. He frowned. "Roland thinks I can come with you, but I- I don't have a costume," he whispered. "So I don't think I can."
"Nonsense, I'm sure we have plenty of things at our house that you can use for your costume," Robin reassured him. "We probably even have accessories. What would you like to be for Halloween?"
The older of the two boys frowned. "I want to be Aragorn, but I don't think you'll have what we need for that."
"Nonsense, we have everything we'll need for the future King of Gondor," Robin promised him, thinking fast. "A cape, a sword… we might even have something for the necklace Arwen gives him, unless you don't want to wear a necklace?"
"No, when you're dressing up as Strider, it's cool," Henry responded, nodding in apparent approval of Robin's plans for his costume.
"Then you'll match us!" Roland said, a huge grin on his face.
"Really?" Henry asked. Robin's heart broke at the look in his eyes. He had guessed that the boy was a loner, whether by choice or not, he hadn't been sure when Roland was telling him about his new friend, but looking at him now, Robin suspected that Henry just wanted a place to belong, and if he and his son could give him that, Robin would happily do it.
"Of course," Robin assured him with a smile. "Something we Locksleys pride ourselves on: being welcoming and helpful to others." Not wanting him to think he was a charity case, he continued, "Once you meet a Locksley, you're family, right, Roland?"
"Right!" his little boy cheered.
Henry smiled tentatively at them, and Robin knew that he had made the right decision. He held out his arm, inviting the older boy in, and to his pleasant surprise, Henry let him put his arm over his shoulder so they could all walk together to the Locksley residence.
On their way there, Robin cautiously asked Henry about his home life. He didn't want to upset him, but if he could do anything to help, he would. However, Henry remained close-lipped on the subject, so Robin changed the topic of conversation, asking about his days at school, which subjects he enjoyed the most and who his favorite teacher was.
"You'll have to tell us all of the good teachers for when Roland reaches those grades," he said. "You'll be like a spy, telling Roland everything he needs to know."
Henry perked up at that. "I've always liked detectives!" He turned to Roland. "Fairy tales too. What's your favorite fairy tale?"
"Robin Hood!" his son answered, putting a little spring into his next step. "Like my papa!"
Robin chuckled. "Well, yes, Grandma and Grandpa did name me after Robin Hood, but I'm not him, Roland."
His son shook his head, dark curls bouncing as he did. "Yes you are! You help everyone we see on the street, even if we don't know them, and Mama's name is Marian and I even have an Uncle John!"
"Well, when you put it that way…" Robin mused. He had apparently never fully realized how closely his life resembled that of the famous thief.
"You help everyone you meet?" Henry asked, his eyebrows raised.
"Of course- isn't that the honorable thing to do?" Robin asked him. Then, when he saw the dejected look on Henry's face, he quickly added, "But it's only the very best ones that we consider family, right, Roland?" He didn't want Henry to think that he was nothing more than a charity case, and hoped that his words would assuage any fears the young man had about being unwanted.
"Yeah!" his little boy confirmed.
By that time, they had arrived at their apartment and headed inside. Robin took Henry's coat and directed Roland to, "Show Henry where our costumes for tonight are. I'm sure there are spare accessories we can use to put together a costume for our new friend Henry too."
"Okay, Papa!" Roland responded. "Come on, Henry!"
The two boys headed to Robin's room, where their outfits for the evening were already laid out on Robin's bed. In hindsight, Robin was grateful that he had thought to do that the night before- it would make getting another boy dressed and ready to go that much easier.
As he set down his keys, lunchbox, and coat, he heard the excited murmurs of both boys as they perused the selection of costume materials available. Robin was thankful that he had been enamored with Lord of the Rings and the series' characters for decades. His love for the trilogy meant that this was far from his first Legolas costume, so Henry could borrow some of his things. They would likely need to use a belt or something similar to hold parts of the costume together, but Robin knew they could make it work.
Those extra items weren't laid out, though, so Robin rushed to the room, hoping that Henry didn't think that they didn't have anything for him to use for his costume that night.
He didn't need to worry though, because Roland was already telling Henry, "Don't worry, I know my papa likes being Legolas for Halloween, so we have extra, I just don't know where it is. We'll wait for him-"
"No need, I'm already here," Robin informed them. He came up behind where the boys were contemplating everything that was already laid out, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "Roland, why don't you start putting on your costume in your room, and I'll help Henry."
"Okay!" Roland readily agreed, grabbing his costume and going to his room.
Robin turned to the older boy beside him. "What color do you imagine Aragorn liked to wear? I have green, blue, red…"
"Green!" Henry replied so immediately and decisively, without any time to think on the matter that Robin had to wonder how often he had pondered this very topic.
To see if he was right, he responded, "Green it is! Why green?"
"Because it would remind him of Arwen!" Henry reminded him, and now that he had pointed it out, Robin knew he was right. "Yeah, the leaves in Lorien were gold, but the forest had to have green somewhere, right? It was one of the best forests in all of Middle Earth!"
"Right!" Robin replied, grinning. It was obvious that though he may not have had the best upbringing, Henry had somehow gotten his hands on either the books or the books and the movie (probably the former) enough times to know exactly what he was talking about. "That sounds perfect, Henry. Wait one moment and I'll get everything for you." He had planned to wear the green cloak himself, but would happily wear the gray or black instead if it meant that Henry would be happy.
He rummaged in the back of his closet and finally found the cloak he was looking for. When he emerged, Henry's slim form was already surrounded by the cloak, and Robin handed him a sword that he had also retrieved. After donning his own cloak, he said, "Let's go find Roland."
He could barely hold back both laughter and a groan when he saw his son. Roland had never been able to get ready without playing with his toys. Robin had thought that tonight might be different, but to his dismay, they found Roland on the floor, wearing not a stitch of his costume, playing with his Lord of the Rings character set.
Well, at least he's sticking to the theme of the evening, Robin thought. He scooped up his son and started tickling him. "You can't bring the Ring to Mordor if you don't dress the part, my boy! Why don't we get you in your costume, hm?"
"Okay, okay, Papa, stop!" the youngest of them squealed. "I'll get ready, I promise!"
"I don't know, Henry, do you think our young friend is going to get ready if I let him go?" Robin asked, looking at the middle schooler who already had proven himself to be more kind than a lot of people Robin had known in his lifetime.
"If he wants me to share the candy I don't want afterwards, yeah, he will," Henry responded. Though he didn't approve of bribery, Robin was thankful that he had used a method that yielded instant results: when Roland heard him, he immediately got up and donned his costume.
Once they were all three dressed and ready to go, each boy with a plastic sword in hand and Robin's bow slung across his back, they set out. Children walked up and down the street, some with their siblings or going to different houses with their parents, just as Robin was taking Roland and Henry. Roland was insistent that they not miss a single house in their search for the perfect assortment of candy, and Robin let him, knowing that the years when Roland would be young enough to want to go trick or testing were coming to an end far too soon.
At what Robin judged to be about the halfway point of their intended journey, they came across a large white house that appeared to be very old that everyone seemed to avoid as if it was cursed. When Robin wondered aloud why that house had no kids in costumes knocking on the door, Henry replied matter-of-factly, "Of course not, that's the Mills mansion! You guys don't know about the Mills sisters?"
"We don't," Robin admitted. They had moved to town recently after he had finalized his divorce from Marian, "What's so special about the Mills mansion?"
"It's haunted," Henry informed them in a low tone that was ideal for telling scary stories. "The three Mills sisters lived during the Salem witch trials, except unlike so many of the other women who were accused of witchcraft, these three actually were witches. When they were accused, they were burned, but not before the most wicked of them all, Zelena, swore that they would return on Halloween night. Legend says that their mother, Cora, cursed their father, Henry, to live forever, and there have been rumors of a black horse seen around the mansion for as long as I can remember."
"Have you ever actually seen it?" Roland asked, his eyes wide. Too late, Robin worried that Henry's story would scare his son and cause him to lose a night of sleep. On the other hand, like him, Roland was a huge fan of Harry Potter, Star Wars, and the Lord of the Rings trilogy (or at least, the parts of it that Robin had allowed him to watch). Like him, Roland loved the supernatural and had always enjoyed any stories about magic or paranormal activity.
Internally, Robin breathed a sigh of relief when Henry seemed to realize the same thing he had. "I haven't, and I'm sure I won't. It's just a story, after all."
"Right," Roland said. His eyes grew wide, an obvious sign that something had just occurred to him. "You said that they could come back! How?"
"Come on, I'll show you," Henry beckoned as he walked toward the front door, clearly intending to go inside.
"Come on, Papa!" Roland begged, grabbing Robin's hand and dragging him toward the door. "Let's catch up to Henry!"
Robin was torn. On the one hand, he knew that he couldn't leave Roland out on the street on his own. However, as he had told Henry, he was their family now. He couldn't let him go in alone and expect to maintain a clear conscience on the matter. Finally realizing a potential solution, he sighed. "All right. But I'll go find Henry, you'll stay right by the door, all right?" That way, Roland would be close by, but as far as possible from any potential danger.
"Okay, Papa," his son responded. When they entered the house, Robin spied what must have once been an old sitting room where the Mills family had received guests once upon a time. The wooden chairs were clearly from the late seventeenth century, and he wondered if the mansion had once been used as a museum to teach hundreds of visitors about the Salem witch trials, like so many other houses and tours in the area.
He traveled through the spacious but clearly abandoned house, noticing how remnants of the past, such as old furniture and random artifacts, melded seamlessly together to create the museum about the Mills sisters. Henry had walked ahead, and he finally found him standing in front of a mirror that hung alone on one side of a room that, Robin deduced upon further inspection, must have been one of the sisters' bedrooms. Though the glass was cracked in places and smudged from the likely thousands, perhaps millions of hands that had touched it over the centuries, it was surrounded by an ornate silver frame that Robin knew must have once been beautiful. Initials were carved into the top of the frame, RM. Robin wondered which of the Mills women this had belonged to, and whether or not there was more to their story than legend had taken care to relay over the past three centuries.
Clearly Henry had heard him come up behind him, or had seen him in the foggy glass, because he spoke to him, not looking away from the mirror. "Where's Roland?"
"I left him at the front entrance," Robin told him, his voice stern when he added, "I didn't know what we'd find in here, I don't want him to be scared. He is only eight, after all. Knowing my son, your stories likely don't scare him, but eventually, something might."
Changing the subject, he gestured toward the mirror and asked, "Who did this mirror belong to? One of the sisters, or their parents?" While the younger boy may not know, he seemed to be knowledgeable about this town's history, or at least about this family.
"One of the sisters- Regina," Henry told him. "She was the youngest, and never got along very well with her sister, Zelena. Malena was always the peacemaker between the two."
"I see," Robin mused, focusing on the mirror once more. Though he didn't know if any of what Henry had told them in the last few moments was true, he had to admit that Regina was a lovely name. "Is there a portrait of the family somewhere?"
As soon as he asked that question, he shook his head and stopped Henry, who had turned around, with a hand on his shoulder. "Never mind, forget I asked." To some degree, he didn't know why he had. Maybe it was that knowing the history of the Salem witch trials made him suspect that there was more to the story.
"There is one, I'll show you," Henry told him. He led Robin down the stairs to the drawing room where the family had received guests. From there, Robin could see that Roland was still waiting where they had left him.
His attention returned to the portrait Henry was showing him, and now that he was looking at it, he didn't know how he had passed by it before. Though she was far from the only subject of the painting, his eyes were immediately drawn to the woman on the left. All three of the sisters looked completely different from one another, though he could see traces of their mother in all of them save for one. Two of them had blue eyes that must have come from previous generations, one had hair the color of sunlight, and the other was her opposite, with hair the color of the night sky. All three of the sisters, however, shared their mother's curls, which he could see in the older couple behind them. The red in their mother's hair was more prominent in one of the sisters, her fiery curls framing her face. Though he supposed that they were all lovely in their own way, his eyes had a hard time moving away from the dark-haired beauty on the left-hand side of the painting. There was something in her eyes that told him that there was more to her story than anyone knew.
He shook his head, telling himself to snap out of it. He reminded himself that the people in this painting had died centuries ago. Any secrets they had to tell were lost to the sands of time long ago.
"She's pretty," a young voice said behind them.
Immediately recognizing his son's voice, Robin turned around, a disapproving frown on his face, to see his son pointing at the exact same woman he himself had been admiring. "Roland, didn't I tell you to wait out front?"
Roland nodded. "Yeah, but I wanted to see what you and Henry were doing. I wish we could meet the pretty lady, Papa."
"There is a way that you can do that, but you may not want to," Henry warned. "They're witches, remember?"
"She's so pretty, I'm sure she's a good witch!" Roland declared, his eyes shining as he looked at the painting on the wall behind them.
Before Robin could intervene and agree with Henry that his son's plan wasn't the wisest one, a new voice interrupted them, "You're so desperate for a family that even these old hags would do, right Henry? And who are these people? Are you pathetic enough that you want them to be your family? You should know better than that. No one will ever want you to be a part of their lives."
Robin turned to face the newcomer, a teenager who continued, "They'll abandon you someday, just like your father did, so why do you even bother? You're destined to be alone, Henry."
Robin could see the hurt in the younger boy's eyes, but his voice was unwavering when he answered, "Just because you've never had a family, Peter, doesn't mean I'll never have one either. Robin and Roland seem nice, and they seem to like me."
The teenager nodded, a malicious gleam in his eyes, and though he knew that he couldn't judge someone based on first impressions alone, Robin couldn't help disliking him more and more with each passing second. "Where exactly did they come from, and how long are they staying? They could easily abandon you just like your parents did."
"All right, that's enough," Robin interjected. He had let Henry attempt to defend himself for awhile to give him confidence, but it seemed that more was necessary to keep this bully at bay. "Where are your own guardians?" He wasn't sure if asking that would be wise- after all, this teen's caregivers could be just as ill-mannered as he was. However, he couldn't just stand by and watch this cruel boy tear Henry apart. He already cared too much for him, and it had all started with seeing how well he treated his son.
The teenager scoffed. "They're not the boss of me. I can do whatever I want."
"Regardless, I suggest you leave us," Robin advised. "After all, I'm sure that bullying isn't tolerated at your school- whether that bullying occurs in school or not. I would imagine that you don't want to face the consequences of your actions. Otherwise, you'd be having this conversation with Henry on school grounds."
The boy groaned, but to Robin's relief, turned and left without another word.
Now that he was gone, Roland, somewhat to Robin's surprise, asked Henry, "How do we bring her back?" He seemed to be entranced by the woman in the painting (a sentiment Robin agreed with, to a degree), and, to Robin's surprise, hadn't been distracted enough by the bully's interruption to have forgotten all about it.
Robin was ready to cast a warning glance in Henry's direction, but it seemed that that was unnecessary, because the older of the two boys cautioned, "I don't know if that's such a good idea, Roland. There's no way to bring back only one of the sisters, you have to bring back all three. Besides, legend says that Regina was the worst of the three sisters. People even called her the Evil Queen, Malena the Dragon, and Zelena the Wicked Witch."
Robin shook his head in disbelief. Appearances were deceiving, then.
Henry shrugged. "I know, it's always looked like she's nice to me too. But I guess we'll never know."
"Yes we can!" Roland protested. "Didn't you say we could bring them back? That way we could ask them ourselves!"
Henry cast a wary glance in his direction. "Are you sure you want to do that?" As he spoke, Robin could have sworn that he heard hoofbeats. It wasn't the first time he had heard the sound, but they were getting gradually louder each time he heard them. At first, he had thought he had imagined them, but not anymore.
"Yes!" Roland declared, clapping his hands together. "I want to meet Regina! And if anything happens, we have my papa to protect us!"
While he loved his son's belief in him, Robin knew he was no match for three witches- if in fact they had really been witches. "I don't know about that, my boy. Do you really think I can take on three witches, even with your and Henry's help?"
Roland nodded fervently.
"All right, come on then," Henry beckoned. Robin could tell that he didn't want to, and he appreciated him trying. However, maybe there were other ways for him to stop the witches from coming back. As much as he wanted to meet the mysterious Regina, it wasn't worth putting the lives of his son and their new friend, not to mention himself, in danger.
As Robin was pondering how to prevent any harm from coming to their little group, Henry led them back upstairs to the same mirror that Robin had been looking at with him earlier. As they passed through the house again, Robin marveled at how everything seemed to have a mysterious air about it, an eerie, ominous presence seeming to permeate the air within the house. Robin didn't know if that was because the house hadn't had any living permanent occupants in centuries, or if it was just knowing who had lived there during the colonial era.
When they reached the room with Regina's mirror, Henry pointed out a sign on the side. "See this sign? It says that if you say-"
"Wait a moment," Robin said, looking down at both boys. "Maybe it isn't such a good idea to do this. Why don't we just-"
"Oh, you don't want to say what's on the card?" a voice taunted. Robin turned and saw that Peter had returned. The bully grinned, his expression sinister as he said with glee, "All the more reason for me to-"
His words were cut off when the black hooves of a horse slammed into his chest. A black stallion stood over him, and though he hadn't expected to see it, Robin couldn't help admiring its majestic form.
Unfortunately, however, even the hooves on his chest couldn't stop Peter from chanting, "Mirror, mirror, on the wall, bring back the greatest witches of all."
Instead of reflecting their faces, the mirror filled with a smoke, the colors of which were a mixture of the colors of amethysts and emeralds. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled as a bone-chilling cackle filled the air. Robin pulled Henry and Roland close, then ducked with them behind the bed, the closest hiding spot he could find. What had Peter just done?