For Dark!OQ Week - Day 5
At first, he doesn't want to see him, refuses to father a child that isn't his, and Regina prefers it that way. Roland's been through enough, he does not need the false hope that he'll get his father back when he won't. And Evil Queen or not, she'd rather die than watch that little boy suffer again at her expense.
So when she finds him, two months into their move to the Enchanted Forest, and wants to start bringing him to the castle for the weekends, Robin agrees that he will spend the day away, off in the woods somewhere, hunting or stealing or doing whatever else he wants to do, and he'll come back only after bedtime. It's not the best arrangement, but it works for a while, and Regina finds new reasons to laugh and feel joy when Roland visits. He picks flowers for her, takes her on walks through the gardens while pointing out hidden berry bushes, and drags her to all the spots that become his favorites over the time he spends with her.
It's bliss, and she's so very grateful to the Merry Men for letting her have this. They don't understand much about the magical split-and-merge business, but they understand that she's Regina now, not just the villainous side of her, but rather her own, whole person. They understand that she loved Robin, that she continues to love Roland, that she'd never harm him, and it seems to be enough. So when Roland asks to spend an entire week at the castle, his uncles allow it, and escort him to her gates on a sunny Tuesday morning.
"Regina!" he shouts, running into her arms. She sinks to her knees to receive him, and squeezes back with a laugh.
She's told the Merry Men about Robin of Locksley, has made it very clear that he is not the man they once looked up to, but a completely different thief, with different traits and personality. They have no desire to meet him, and insist that Roland mustn't, either. And that's not a problem, really, because Robin has been off on a trip to Snow's summer palace for the past four days, to pilfer some of the Charmings' good wine and explore the land, and he won't be back for another week.
So when he suddenly shows up in her room that night, sneaking under the covers just behind her and waking her with a hand kneading her breast, she gasps out of surprise, rather than pleasure.
"What are you doing here?" she asks urgently, turning to face him.
"I came home early," he says with a smirk, "I missed this too much." He punctuates the words by leaning in for a kiss. Regina grants it to him, because she can never resist him, but pulls back before he can deepen it, a little Mmm escaping her.
And then she panics.
Roland is here, sleeping just two doors down in one of the guest rooms.
"You're not supposed to be here," she tells him, and it dawns on him.
"He's here? But it's Tuesday," he protests, "You never said he'd be here during the week."
"He wanted to stay longer, and the Merry Men agreed. You weren't supposed to be here until next week!" she hisses.
He huffs, then apologizes when she shoots him a glare, and tells her, "I'll move to the east wing at dawn, he won't see me."
Regina thanks him with a kiss, then settles back down on the bed, this time with her head on his chest, one hand trailing random patterns over his stomach. She smiles a little when he squirms at the feeling, and indulges in one last, tongue-filled kiss before she surrenders to sleep once more.
—-
This is a bloody nightmare.
All he wanted was to surprise her, to feel her and taste the sweet torture of her kisses, to eat her until she screamed his name, and instead here he is, stuck in the east wing library for the rest of the week while his dead doppelganger's brat traipses around the castle with her.
He needs to get out of here.
She'd told him this morning that they'd be spending time at the stables, so maybe he can exit through the kitchens and climb the high wall, leave the grounds for a bit and get some air. Yes, that sounds like a good plan, he'll do that, he'll go, and maybe pick some wild berries for Regina, pick some new jewels for her, too, if he happens to run into one of the wealthy abusers that own the adjoining lands.
It's with that thought in mind that he makes his way down the east wing staircase, carrying his bow, a quiver full of arrows at his back, and a burlap sack tucked securely into his belt. He's made it out of the kitchens and is almost at the wall when a scream stops him in his tracks.
"Papa?!"
Shit.
Regina is going to kill him.
There's no time to react, no time to find a distraction, because next thing he knows the child is running toward him, arms outstretched as if to hug him.
"Stand back, boy," he says, and is surprised at the little pang of pain that stabs through his chest at the words. "I'm not your father."
He looks confused, so Robin elaborates.
"I'm Robin of Locksley. I look like your father, but I'm not him. I come from another world, one where I'm... well, me, not your father."
Tears well up in the tyke's eyes, and fuck, where's Regina? She'll murder Robin on the spot, sure, but at least she'll stop the boy from crying.
"Listen," he tries, "Roland, is it?"
He nods, sniffling.
"Right. Roland. Look, I'm sorry that you thought... I didn't mean for this to happen. I wasn't supposed to be out here, you weren't supposed to see me."
"Why?" he asks curiously. Well... he's really not that bright, is he?
"Well, because then we'd have to explain that your father is still dead, and you'd be reminded of him when you saw me, and you'd get sad, yeah?"
He nods again, and then there's this awkward pause, a moment of quiet in which the boy just looks and looks at him.
"Do you have my papa's memories?" he asks at last, looking so hopeful despite the sad tone of his voice.
"His what?"
"In Storybrooke that happened sometimes, people had different memories or forgot stuff."
"No, I haven't forgotten... stuff. It's not a memory curse, I'm a different person, I'm not your father."
Big, fat tears fall, along with a blubbering, "Oh, okay", and it tugs at something in Robin's heart. It's odd. He's seen children crying before and not given a damn, and yet this one boy is pulling at his heartstrings in the strangest of ways.
"Roland, sweetheart, I've asked you not to run off without m— Oh, no," comes Regina's voice, her feet hurrying as she moves in their direction. "What the hell are you doing out here?!" she barks at Robin, "You said you'd stay inside!"
"I got bored! You said you'd be at the stables, so I thought I could slip to the forest unnoticed, and then this one came about and started calling me Papa."
"I'm sorry," Roland says then, "I didn't know."
Robin sighs, can't help it, can't stop this need to comfort the little one as he crouches down at eye level with him and says, "I know, it's not your fault. I'm just sorry you're sad."
"It's okay," Roland tells him, and he looks like he wants to say something else, but bites his pouty lower lip instead, moving to stand beside Regina. She takes his hand (staring daggers at Robin the entire time, a wordless promise that they'll be discussing this later), and they're just about to leave when the boy turns back to him.
Again, he looks hesitant, like there's something on his mind, and out of nowhere, Robin hears his own voice asking, "What's wrong, my boy?"
He hears Regina gasp, and Roland's eyes widen a little, too, but he makes no note of it, understanding that there's nothing to the term of endearment. He's a smart one, after all.
"I know you're not my papa, but... can I hug you?" he asks then, blushing immediately.
Surprising even himself, Robin drops everything he's carrying and says yes.
And when that poor child wraps his arms around him, squeezes tight and cries silently into his shoulder for the father he's lost, Robin's heart feels... fuller somehow. He is not his son, he's aware of that, has made it abundantly clear to both Roland and Regina, but there must be something from his father in him, something connecting them (they're the same person in some ways, are they not?), because having that little boy in his arms, sniffling and holding tight... he's never felt happier.
"You smell just like him, too," Roland says as he pulls back.
"So I've been told," Robin says, smiling and looking up at Regina. She's told him this before, that he smells like forest just like Robin Hood did (she's also told him he reeks of ale sometimes, but there is no ale today), so it's no surprise that Robin Hood's own son can recognize the scent of pine in him. "But I'm not him. I need you to understand that, Roland. Do you understand it?"
He nods slowly, his eyes still wide as they take him in, and Robin lets him look, knows he must be feeling confused, and disappointed, and sad all over again.
"Do you want to come with us?" the boy invites then. "Regina and I are taking the horses to the stream."
"Oh, I... I don't know if I should," he starts, and risks a glance at her. She's been so quiet during this whole exchange, he's surprised she hasn't burned him to a crisp by now.
To his complete and utter shock, however, her expression is soft, accepting, a small smile playing on her lips as she runs a hand through the boy's curls and says, "Please, join us."
All through their walk, he feels the little one's eyes on him, feels the weight of his stare, as if he's expecting him to suddenly turn around and tell him it was all a joke, that he really is his father, and it seems the more the silence stretches between them, the more he understands that this is not likely to happen.
It stings a little, to watch someone so young deal with so much, and he sees the guilt it sparks in Regina, understands now why she'd endeavored to give him everything she could to make his life here better, happier.
"His father died because of us, to protect Regina and me," she tells him as they watch Roland feed an apple to one of the horses. "I owe it to him to give him as much joy as I can. I didn't think that could happen with you around to remind him of what he'd lost."
"He seems alright," Robin ventures, looking at the boy, delighting in his short bouts of laughter as the horse licks his hand clean of apple bits.
"Or maybe he's hiding it. Only time will tell, I suppose."
"You mean... he'll still come to the castle?" he asks, head turning to look at her profile.
"If he wants to," she replies, her eyes still trained on Roland, "I'll never deny him, Robin. He's already lost his father because of me."
"Hood made the choice to save you on his own. He put his life at risk because he wanted to, you had nothing to do with it."
"He did it out of honor," she argues, whipping her head towards him.
"He did it because he loved you," Robin claps back, and it brings tears to her eyes. Great, he's made the child and the queen cry in the span of an hour.
"I'm sorry," he mutters, "I'm not very good at this, am I?"
"No, you're right," she says, looking down at her lap for a moment before her eyes move back up to find Roland petting the horse's mane. "He did love me. But that love got him killed. And now Roland suffers because of it. No mother, no father."
"You're his mother," he tells her, because this may be a tricky situation, but he's quite certain of that. "You love him like a son, and I've seen the way he looks at you. That boy adores you just as much as you do him. And I..."
He sighs, trailing off for a moment as he tries to find the right words.
"I can't be his father, Regina," he starts, "I'm not Robin Hood, I could never be him. And quite frankly I don't think I'm the kind of man a young boy should look up to. I can't take on that role. But I... I could be a friend to him, if he wants, and if you approve."
"You would do that?" she asks, tearing her eyes away from Roland for a moment to look back at him in surprise.
"I admit I wasn't thrilled by his presence at first, but... he's a bright boy, and he seems to enjoy himself with us, and... I believe I could learn from him. His father was clearly a great man. I... I think he could teach me how to be great, too, how to be better. I'd like that."
"You would?"
He grins, shrugs as he muses, "I guess I do like children, after all."
Regina smiles at him, leans in and gives him a soft, lingering kiss that warms him from the inside out.
And yes, he thinks. Against all odds, against everything he ever believed, he really, truly wants this.
—-
"Regina, come skip rocks with me!" Roland calls, beckoning her to him. She rises immediately, shakes the dirt off her riding coat and walks to the water's edge, choosing the two flattest, roundest cobbles she can find and handing one to him.
"You're going to have to teach me first," she tells him, and he smiles, nods and runs his thumb over the rock she's given him.
"Okay!" he answers excitedly, starting with, "Papa always did it like this: he crouched down a little, like a dwarf..." he adopts the position as he says it, and Regina follows his lead opening her legs slightly and bending her knees. "Then, he pulled his arm back as faaaar as he could..." she does, and so does he. "And threw it into the water!"
They release their little rocks at almost the same time, and both fall into the soft current with a heavy plop, not skipping even once.
Roland looks disappointed, and finds another stone, trying again, but this one, too, falls deep.
"Flick your wrist," Regina hears from behind her, and turns to find Robin moving cautiously closer, mimicking the motion with his hand. "It'll help."
"No, it's supposed to be like this," Roland insists, throwing a third pebble into the water and once again failing at making it skip.
Robin says nothing, only grabs a stone for himself and throws it, flicking his wrist just as he releases it. The little rock skips once, twice, a third time, before it sinks into the cool stream.
"See?" he says to Roland, "It's all in the wrist. Now you try."
He does, but he doesn't quite manage the right move, and so the rock skips only once before it plunges into the water.
"Much better, but you have to move your hand a little faster," Robin tells him. "Here, I'll show you."
He moves to help him then, and Regina takes a few steps back to watch. Robin is attentive, gentle, moves Roland's little legs a bit more to the side, then takes his hand and moves it to show him how the wrist trick works.
"You feel that?" he asks him, and Roland nods eagerly, prompting Robin to say, "Good, that's how it's supposed to feel. You do that, and I promise you, the rock will skip."
Regina bites her bottom lip, arms crossed over her chest as she watches it all unfold.
First, Roland looks at his little rock, then at Robin's face, and pulls his arm back, getting ready to throw.
"That's it..." he encourages, "now move your arm as fast as you can, and don't forget to flick your wrist."
He does, and the rock flies, does two awkward jumps on the surface before it sinks, and Roland cheers, turns his laughing face to Robin as they both celebrate a job well done.
"I did it! I did it, Regina! Did you see it?!"
"I did!" she confirms, hiding tears behind a joyful voice as she adds, "That was wonderful, sweetheart!"
But Robin knows her by now, he knows enough to tell when she needs him, so he walks to her, squeezes her hand gently, and dots a kiss on her brow.
She apologizes, but he's shaking his head before she's done saying her I'm sorry.
"I understand," he insists.
"Regina, why are you crying?" Roland asks, and there's no use in denying it, is there?
"I just wish your father could be with you," she admits. "I'm so sorry that he was taken from you."
"But he is with me, Regina! He is!" Roland assures her, and she goes to correct him, to remind him that the man with them is not Robin, but the boy surprises her when he adds, "Uncle John says Papa lives in the stars and the wind and the water, so he's everywhere, and he's always watching me, and that if I stay really still and quiet and wish really hard, I can feel him."
"And can you?" Robin asks, and she could smack him for asking such an impertinent question.
"Sometimes," Roland answers him with a shrug. "But only if Regina is with me, because he loves us. He always said he loved us most of all. And the baby. He loved the baby too."
It's too much, and she feels like she'll burst into loud, wet sobs any second now. Robin seems to realize that, because he grabs the boy's attention with a dimpled smirk as he tells him conspiratorially, "Then let's go show him what you've learned today, yeah?"
Roland's answer is a resounding Yes! and then he's running to the water's edge again to find the perfect rock.
Robin hangs back for a moment, turning to her and cradling her face in his hand.
"Take a moment," he tells her, "and tonight, I'll handle things. You take a bath, relax, have some time to breathe through all of these emotions you're feeling, I'll keep the boy entertained with a bedtime story until you can come tuck him in."
"The Merry Men won't like this," she blurts, because she knows John will not be happy. They were very clear in their request, they did not want Roland spending time with a clone of his father. They did not want him confusing his hero with, as Tuck called him, a 'knock-off'.
"You're his mother," Robin reminds her. "What do you think?"
She takes a moment, breathes deeply in, then out, shifts her eyes to watch as Roland throws yet another stone into the water and happily counts the one, two, three times it skips before sinking.
Regina smiles, leans in to plant a kiss on Robin's lips and tells him, "I think a bedtime story sounds like a great idea."