A/N: second entry for the OQ prompt party, Tuesday.
147. Robin and Regina watch Game of Thrones together. Robin thinks Regina would have given Cersei a run for her money. Also Regina's dragon is cooler than Dany's dragons.
p.s. doesn't have spoilers about the last seasons. (well, you know already that Ned dies, right?)


A Queen of a Kind

It has become their guilty pleasure, and Regina is actually stunned the town has maintained its peaceful state for so long that they've managed to reach season seven. Game of Thrones has, in time, transformed from a mere hobby to an addiction. She just adores the night they spend curled up in bed together, with her laptop in the middle, after the kids have gone to sleep.

Some parts were hard, at first. She still tenses during every scene where someone takes advantage of a woman. He still looks away when he sees brutal violence, a cruel reminder of his own youth. Scenes like that have the one looking out for the other, pausing the episode, talking with soothing voices.

Still, it's gotten better during the last seasons, and there are fewer triggers. Things have suddenly become interesting and fast, a real power play with those plot twists that often have them both slamming a hand on their mouth not to scream in surprise.

Regina loves it – because, for once, it reminds her she finally has a tranquil life, and she can enjoy the fights of the Seven Families without worrying about magic, or stupid fairies, or her past problems. She can relish the calm of her bedroom with her love, knowing that when they turn off the laptop life will go back to normal. She loves it, even so, because Robin likes to comment. Where she likes to enjoy movies and such in complete silence, he is a natural storyteller, and so he makes remarks, adds his observations, shares with her if he's noticed a particular parallel or an interesting theory for the future.

Tonight, they're in the middle of a very heated episode, and he just can't shut up. She smiles, however, because she's stopped finding it annoying eons ago, and now it's just a nice addendum to the entertainment.

"Do you ever think about living in Westeros?" he asks after a pause, trailing a finger on her arm.

"What?" Regina turns her head, astounded. "No thanks. The Enchanted Forest was enough."

"As in… hard to rule?"

"Among other things," she nods, watching as a scene of battle displays on the screen. "But I have to say, at least magic was in plain sight. In Westeros, it's all hidden, or legendary, or, you know… dragons."

"You had dragons," he points out. "You were pretty… close to dragons, I dare say."

She stifles a smile, and shifts closer to him, going to place her head on his chest. It's so cozy, curled up there, warm and lazy under their duvet. "I did," she agrees. "In fact, I think Mal is way better than Daenerys' dragons. You know, I did have the chance to ride her."

He scoffs a laugh, and she realizes just then what she's said. "Oh shut up," she lifts one hand to swat his arm. "I can still set you on fire."

"The Unburnt," he laughs, kissing the top of her hair. "No, really. I can just picture you, as the queen of Westeros with her dragon girlfriend and fireballs on hand, flying around just to feel the wind on your skin."

Well that's stuff I would watch, Regina thinks. She pauses the episode – because Littlefinger is speaking to Sansa and she feels it's an important conversation she doesn't want to miss – and focuses on his words. "I didn't realize I had married a poet," she teases. "Perhaps you'd work as my jester, honey."

"Always so charming," he tells her. "I'd be terrified to work as your jester, truth be told…"

"Mm? Why's that?"

"Well, you see, my humor is so subtle, many people would not comprehend my jokes and I'd have to explain them, it would ruin the mood," he says, seriously. "And then Her Majesty would be upset, you know."

"Oh," she smiles, turning her head to look at him. "So my subjects are a bunch of idiots, then?"

He chuckles, gazing at her. "The whole lot of them, my darling."

She shakes her head, and goes to press play – they do that, sometimes, to pause the episode to talk, and it only adds enjoyable moments to her evenings with him. As the follow through Littlefinger's monologue to Sansa, she listens to his heartbeat. It's so calming, to listen to him, to have his hand curled around her shoulder, slow puffs of breath ruffling her hair.

"Do you think she'd be a good queen?" she asks him slowly. He doesn't answer right away. "What do you think makes someone a good ruler?"

"Passion," he says. "Mercy and… strategy."

"You know, in Game of Thrones you'd be dead after two episodes," she laughs. Well, he would – he's not naïve, Robin, he knows how to fight the dangers of life, but rather, he has that kind of faith in… everyone. The kind of good heart that has got Ned Stark killed. "You are so… good. You don't belong in that universe."

"And you do?" he asks her, curious.

Regina shifts slightly. "Yes," she ponders her answers, thinking. "Or at least, my... former self. Yes."

"The Evil Queen would have given Cersei a run for her money," he says. "But I find you two are much alike. Even now, even after your… redemption."

"How so? I don't know if I should feel offended." She tilts her head, awaiting for his answer.

"Regina, don't tell me you're not a lioness when it comes to your children," he tells her. "You'd tear down empires with your bare hands if someone laid a finger on them."

Oh. Okay. She nods – she is like that, after all, and she did cry when Cersei was about to kill herself and her son to avoid others did it.

"You both are smart and… revengeful, if I can say so," he continues – Guess you can, she smiles. "And bold. Never afraid to take action."

"Well you make her sound lovely," Regina muses. "But seriously, what's up with you tonight? You're even more sweet than usual, I wonder if you've done something bad you're trying to make me forgive you in advance," she laughs.

"Have I?" he asks her, shocked. She props up her head to looks at him, those eyes wide and the glint of that cocky smile that was so infuriating during the Missing Year.

"Oh shut up," she grumbles, and places a kiss on his lips. "Now hush, I want to see how it ends."

And with that, she finally cuddles up in her favorite way, his arm around her, and he lets her enjoy the end, until the rhythm of his hand between her hair almost lulls her to sleep.