A week had passed since Marian had appeared in Storybrooke. Robin had done his best to introduce her to this new world. There were still parts of it that even he didn't understand, but what he grasped, he passed onto her. Things like cars and telephones and electricity. Marian was quite excited about the electricity, though she didn't get to experience it a great deal, since the camp was still rather . . . rustic. They were out on a walk of the town, Roland happily accompanying them. These walks were common. Without a monster to tackle, life in Storybrooke was rather . . . simple. Almost boring, even. At least, it was boring for a thief like Robin, who spent most of his time planning or executing a heist.
There wasn't anyone to steal from in Storybrooke. They were all reasonably paid. If anything, he and his Merry Men needed the most aid. So, taking walks was how they occupied their newfound time. Roland enjoyed it, at least, since they often ended up at the park. The playground there was his favorite to climb on and imagine up stories. Those stories usually revolved around their time spent in the Enchanted Forest. It occurred to Robin that Roland's time in what Robin considered to be home would likely be forgotten by his young son. He'd never recall Sherwood Forest. There was something about that that saddened him.
"Can we have ice cream, Papa?" Roland asked as they neared the ice cream store. Robin smiled for a moment. If there was one thing in this new world that Roland loved even more than his playground . . . it was ice cream. Regina had introduced the sweet to him, and he had been hooked since. "Regina let me have ice cream." The smile slowly faded from his lips, which pressed into a thin line instead. Regina. He hadn't seen her since that conversation. In fact, not that many people had. From what he gathered, she kept to herself. Snow had to take over Mayoral duties. It was why they were headed into town. Snow was holding a meeting to discuss some of the goings-on in Storybrooke lately. Robin was hoping they had something on the snow giant that had attacked them. If there was a new threat, he wanted to be prepared for it.
"We can get some ice cream," Marian said, smiling down at Roland. "What's your favorite kind?"
"Chocolate!" Roland replied immediately. Robin smiled at that. Chocolate was the only kind he'd ever had.
"Come on then. We can eat it as we walk." Robin led them over to the ice cream store and opened the door for them. The ice cream lady—who he still hadn't figured the name of—greeted them happily.
"Welcome, welcome. What can I get you today?" she asked.
"Hullo. Two Rocky Roads, please and . . .?" he looked at Marian questioningly. She seemed at a loss with the flavors. "Let's start you easily. Chocolate can rather go straight to your head. As our son has demonstrated. Vanilla, please."
The ice cream lady nodded and whipped up the two Rocky Roads. "Here you go."
"Thank-you!" Roland exclaimed, taking the ice cream as if it were a holy relic. Robin smiled lightly down at him. His son's enthusiasm was a refreshing sight that kept saving him from despair. He was . . . having a difficult time falling in love with Marian. He had hoped it would be simple, or that it would be easy. He'd done it before, there was no reason he couldn't do so again . . . but there was something off. It didn't feel the same. Not to mention, every time he tried to feel something akin to love, Regina's face popped into his mind. Every time he embraced Marian or laid himself down beside her to sleep and felt her body against his side . . . it felt wrong. The wrong proportions, the wrong scent, the wrong shape. Though externally, he forced himself to reciprocate and touch, inwardly he cringed and retracted.
"And one for the dashing father," the ice cream lady handed him his cone a well.
"Thank-you," Robin smiled at her compliment, letting Marian have a small lick while her ice cream cone was being made. At the very first lick, Marian's eyes lit up with wonder. Robin chuckled. "Not bad, right? Be mindful though. Our family already has one ice cream addict." Roland was half-way through his ice cream already, his face covered with chocolate. He grinned up at them before smashing the ice cream against his mouth once more.
"And one for the beautiful mother," the ice cream lady returned to them with Marian's cone. "On the house. To welcome you to town."
"Oh, that is very kind of you, thank-you," Robin said warmly. It was one surprising feat of Storybrooke. By and large, its occupants were the friendliest people he had ever met. They had their grumps, of course, but for the most part, they were a giving and warm-hearted people. It may not be home, but it wasn't a terrible replacement. "We'll be back," Robin promised, and then guided his family out of the store. Marian was happily eating her ice cream. As was Roland.
"What's that?" she asked, pointing up at the stoplight.
"That is . . ." Robin paused. "Actually, I have no idea what that is. But it turns different colors. Green, red and yellow. Not quite sure why."
"It's a stoplight!" Roland told them. "Henry told me about them. They make cars stop and go."
"Oh. Aren't you the little genius?" Robin ruffled his hair, smiling. He and Marian might be doomed, but at least his son was adapting well. They turned their feet towards City Hall where a few other fairytale folk were gathering. They walked up to the Mayor's Office which still resonated Regina to him . . . despite that it was now Snow sitting behind the large desk. The black and white color scheme, however, was too reminiscent . . . and he swore he smelled her perfume in the air. Grabbing a chair for Roland to sit in, Robin stood beside him and Marian. David was handing out itineraries that outlined the meeting. Once Robin received his, he noticed Grumpy waving him over. "Excuse me," he touched Marian's arm, then headed over.
"Hey, man," Grumpy said quietly enough not to be overhead. "I heard about your plight." Robin's brow furrowed a little. "I did some thinking . . . and I think I found the perfect solution." Robin lifted an eyebrow. Well, this would be interesting. "Marry them both. Now . . . hear me out. They both want you, right? And you want both of them. Marry them both. No one will bat an eye . . . too much. I mean, come on, man, you're living every man's dream here. Two women? You dog."
Robin kept his patience, knowing the dwarf meant well. "I assure you I'm living my nightmare. I appreciate your advise. The next time you offer up joint marriage to two girls, let me know how that goes." He pat Grumpy on the arm and returned to his wife. Well, at least he had something to actually suggest . . . unlike Archie. If only it were that simple . . . but Regina and Marian weren't the sharing kind, and nor was he. His guilt would eat him alive.
"What did he want?" Marian asked curiously.
"Oh, he just wanted to hear about that monster that attacked our camp," Robin lied. He wasn't sure if he sold it. He hoped he did. This tug-of-war was something he just wanted buried. Snow called the meeting into session and the babble died down. His gaze lowered to the list. Ah, there was the snow giant. Excellent. Snow informed them that it was made by a woman named Elsa who did not mean them any harm. That she had also put it in a giant ice barrier that surrounded the city . . . but really, really didn't mean anything by it. Robin found it rather suspicious, but he supposed if he was needed, he'd be called upon.
Noticing a sagging to his right, he turned to find Marian fainting. "Marian!" he exclaimed, catching her before she could hit the ground. Something was wrong. Her hair was turning white, and her face was blue . . . it looked as though frost was appearing on her skin. Those at the meeting gathered around, all talking at once. "Clear the way!" he exclaimed, picking her up and carrying her over to the sofa. Laying her down, he watched her hair turn only whiter . . . her skin bluer.
"Is this Elsa, too?" Robin demanded, looking at Snow. "Tell her to stop it."
Snow shook her head. "I have no idea, Robin. If it is, I don't know why Marian is targeted."
Magic. It was clearly magic. God, he really hated it sometimes. It was dangerous for any one person to control. Magic, to his mind, had done a lot more destruction than good. Regina had been changing his mind about that for awhile, but this? This just reminded him why he didn't trust it. "I need to get help," he said. "Grumpy, can you take Roland back to the Merry Men?" he asked the dwarf. The last thing he needed Roland to see was his mother die right before his eyes.
"You got it, fox," Grumpy said. "Come on, little guy. Your mom needs some rest now." Roland tearfully followed, giving Robin a questioning look. He wished he could comfort his son and tell him his mother would be alright . . . but he didn't know if that was the truth.
"I'll be right back," he said to Snow and David. "Just . . . watch her. Please." Robin quickly left the room. There was only one person who could help him save Marian now.
"And the old man is up again! This is quite the match we have here, m'ladies and m'lords! Neck-and-neck!"
Robin, dressed in a shabby cloak with a fake nose and fake grey beard, bowed to the cheering audience. Prince John was holding a tourney, and for the archery contest, he was giving away a golden arrow. A solid gold arrow. Robin could barely resist such a challenge. He could feed three villages with that prize. Turning to the target, he removed an arrow from his quiver and nocked it. Glancing down the shaft, he pulled back to his ear . . . then released. The arrow sang through the air and embedded itself right in the middle of the bull's eye.
The crowd roared, and he bowed again, delighted by their frenzy. Up in the stands, close to Prince John, was his Marian. She had taken a job as a handmaiden to one of Prince John's nieces who was visiting. It brought in a little extra money . . . and she was the perfect inside man for their more daring of heists. The only problem . . . was that the Sheriff of Nottingham had taken a liking to her.
It was the Sheriff, in fact, that he was facing now in the archery contest. He watched the Sheriff nock, then release his arrow. To Robin's annoyance, it split his arrow. Prince John and the moneygrubbers applauded the Sheriff's accomplishment. It looked like he was up again. "Beat that, peasant," the Sheriff said snidely in his ear.
Robin glared, though he quickly looked away when he thought he saw a flash of recognition in the Sheriff's eyes. He couldn't blow his cover now. Especially not in front of the Sheriff. "Oulright, yoo sonny boy. Let yer Papa teach yoo somethin'," he said in a heavy accent, lining up his next shot. Robin checked for wind, and then released his arrow. It split the Sheriff's arrow right in half. The audience stood up and roared with excitement. He'd won!
Robin gave a smug look to the Sheriff, then hobbled up to the Prince's box to receive his prize. Marian was smiling warmly at him behind Prince John. He had to fight not to wink at her. As for the Prince, he was grinning as well. Everything about him seemed . . . oily . . . to Robin. His hair was blond and slicked back, making it look even greasier. His whiskers were curled in a loop on each end and shined with the grease used to style them. Even his skin was oily and shined under the sun.
"Our champion!" Prince John announced, gesturing to Robin. The crowd applauded one last time. "Good sir, give us the name of our champion, so we might award you." The Prince unveiled the golden arrow, which sat on a silk pillow.
"Me name is—"
"Oh, hold on," Prince John interrupted him. "I think I know your name." Robin's blood ran cold. "Robin. Hood." The crowd gasped, and Robin felt his arms grabbed by two guards who quickly restrained him. He grunted and struggled to free himself. The Sheriff came up to him, smirking, and removed the false nose and beard.
"I knew it was you," he whispered to Robin. Turning to Prince John, he asked, "permission to execute the traitor, Your Grace?"
"Permission granted. Off with his head!" Prince John proclaimed.
"NO!" Marian shouted. "Please, no. Spare him!"
"Marian, don't. It's alright," Robin tried to assure her, though he had no idea how he was going to get out of this one.
"How interesting," the Sheriff mused, looking at Marian. "It seems the Maid Marian has . . . feelings . . . for this scoundrel. How much is his life worth to you, Marian? What would you do to spare him?"
Robin felt a trap arising, and he shook his head at Marian, but she grit her teeth and replied, "anything."
"Will you marry me? Say you will marry me, and I will let this rat scurry back to his hole," the Sheriff told her.
"Marian! Don't! My life isn't worth it. That's a lifetime of torment," Robin begged. "Just look at how he dresses! He'll have fancier dresses than you!"
"Shut up!" the Sheriff growled and elbowed him in the face. Robin grunted, momentarily blinded by pain. But his joke had been worth it. The crowd was chuckling, and both the Sheriff and the Prince looked uncomfortable by the reaction. "Well?" he demanded. "Will you marry me? Or will you watch this man become one head shorter?"
Despite Robin shaking his head and shooting her pleading looks, Marian trembled and said, "I . . . will. I will marry you." Robin looked devastated.
"Then we have ourselves a celebration. Prepare the chapel! At morning light, we'll have ourselves a wedding for the happy couple!" the Prince decreed. "Take him away to the dungeon."
"No! Our deal!" Marian cried, moving forward, but another guard grabbed onto her shoulder, keeping her in place. Robin struggled against the guards as well, but received a sharp elbow to his gut which doubled him over with a grunt.
"Oh, he'll remain alive, my bride," the Sheriff assured her. "Can't have you getting cold feet at the altar." Robin was dragged off, but he watched Marian for as long as he could see her—trying to communicate his love. He wasn't sure if she got the message. But he'd find a way to save her from the Sheriff. Somehow.
The sharp jingle of the diner door seemed harsher in his ears than ever before. Perhaps because he had hoped his entry would be quiet and unstartling, as most of his entries were prone to be. His entry had been hurried, however, and so even as all eyes were drawn to his frantic frame, he sought out the one he had come to find. How he knew she was here, he wasn't entirely sure. His feet had simply turned in this direction, and he felt in his very core that he'd find her within. Whatever instinct—or perk of being soulmates—it was, he was relieved that it had not run him astray.
"Regina," he breathed out, sounding as breathless as he looked. "Regina, I need your help. I-I didn't know who else to turn to. It's . . . Marian. Something's happened to her. Something magical. Please, you must come with me." She is surprised to see him. He can read that clearly. He can also read the disappointment forming in her warm eyes. She had hoped he was there to see her—and just her. Another injury he'd have to find some way of repairing. Robin was all too aware of the unfairness of what he was asking of her. But Emma's magic, for whatever reason, was currently having problems, and he didn't dare let Rumpelstiltskin near Marian.
There was a silent shift in her shoulders, a detachment in her eyes, before she nodded. "Very well. Where is she?" Regina asked.
"In your office. Snow's . . . office," Robin corrected himself. Regina waved her hands, and he felt the tingle of magic against his skin—like static electricity lightly kissing over his flesh. It wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't painful either. All it took was a blink, and he found himself back in her office. Again, he disliked magic, but he couldn't argue with the current convenience it gave to him. "She's over here," Robin led her over to the sofa where Marian looked even worse.
Her nose and eyes seemed frozen over—her lips a bright blue. "Oh, this is powerful," Regina murmured. "Once it reaches her heart, she'll die."
Robin turned to her, desperation in his voice and eyes, "can you help her? Can you stop it?"
Just then, Emma walked in with a stranger dressed in blue. "Perhaps we should ask our new friend here," Regina said, her eyes settling on the newcomer. "You conjured up the Abominable Frosty the Snowman. How do we know you didn't do this, too?"
Emma bristled at that. "Because I trust her."
The woman, who Robin surmised was Elsa, looked over Marian. "I don't know who could have done this. I'm the only one with this power. The only thing that can break it is true love's kiss." Robin felt their eyes on him. Right. He probably should have tried that before he called upon Regina's aid. Clearing his throat, he knelt down on the ground beside Marian and pressed his lips to hers. They were frozen, and it felt like kissing a frozen shard of water. When she did not stir, he pulled back, his brow furrowing.
"Why isn't it working?" he asked, looking up at them. He asked the question, but the answer was already resounding in his conflicted heart. She isn't your true love. You don't love her anymore. There it was—the truth he didn't want to hear. Despite his attempts, his heart was unable to reach hers. It was already filled by another. Fresh guilt washed him. He wanted to be true to his wife, but how could he when even his heart betrayed him?
"I've seen this before," David said. "When Frederick was turned to gold. The cold might be acting as a barrier."
Frustration was gnawing at him. Every second brought Marian closer to death. He may not be in love her, but she was still Marian. A part of him would always love her. "Is there nothing we can do?" he asked, his urgency returned to Regina.
"I . . . I don't know how to cure it," Regina admitted, "but . . . I have an idea. I can slow it down long enough that it might work, but," she met Robin's eyes. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes, of course," Robin replied without hesitation. His confidence in her was unfailing. She seemed to be surprised by his answer, but she didn't waste further time. Henry, who had also poofed with them, was told to run to her vault and grab one of the heart containers. Robin had an inkling of what she was about to do. Would it work? Or would the magic just leap? He took a step back as she moved over Marian, her hands dancing just above her prone body. Robin could do nothing but pace back and forth. He hated it. This was precisely why he mistrusted magic—it was unfair. It stacked the odds. He was a relatively strong man with reasonable intelligence. But he could do nothing to protect his wife against magic.
All he could do was watch as the ice formed higher and higher, turning her entire body into a blue crystal. It was horrifying to watch. Henry didn't arrive a moment too soon, handing Regina the wooden box. Robin watched her thrust her hand into Marian's chest and rip out her heart. It was placed within the box, safely nestled. "There," Regina sighed, brushing her hair from her face, "she'll stay alive until I can figure out a way to break this curse."
"Alive, but . . . like this?" Robin gestured to the crystalized form.
"I'm afraid so," Regina said. "At least until I find a cure. And I will find a cure. I'm sorry, Robin." The others filed out then, Henry taking Marian's heart to a secure location. His shoulders deflated, and he scratched at the scruff on his jaw wearily. This was too much to handle—for any man to handle. Wife comes back from the dead shortly after he meets his soulmate, and then his wife gets turned into an ice cube, teetering on the brink of death! He might just have to see Dr. Hopper again, after all.
"It's alright," he said finally, his voice quiet. "It isn't your fault." It rested on his shoulders, in the end. "I just wish I could tell Roland I did everything I could."
Regina shifted, her tone comforting. "True love's kiss doesn't always work."
And there it was. True love's kiss worked in most situations. Barrier or not, there was a reason his kiss didn't work. "That kiss didn't work because of what David said," Robin said, his eyes moving to her. "It's . . . it's because I'm in love with someone else." His heart surged as the words left his lips. Guilt took second place against the relief he felt admitting it at last—to her.
She paused, her expression shifting between shocked, joyous and conflicted. Everything he saw in her face was precisely how he felt. "You are?" she breathed, as if speaking any louder might make the words suddenly ring false.
"I am," Robin confirmed, and the ache to touch her had his fingers itching—twitching. But Marian was there. She may have been cursed, but she was there. "But I—"
"I know. I know you have to go back to her. She's your wife." Robin nodded sadly. And that was the hollow truth. She was his wife. He was married to a woman he was no longer in love with, but who very likely still loved him. He never knew pretending to love someone could be so painful.
The steady drip-drip-drip was lulling Robin to sleep. Every time he nodded off, his head clunked back against a stone column—which jarred him awake immediately. He was tied to the column in a dungeon cell. Stray—old and trampled a hundred-fold over—was strewn about the floor. Dried blood and feces was pressed into the floor, becoming as permanent as the very stone. He'd been there all day. A small window to his right allowed him to see the stars, which told him he had only a few hours to find a way to escape, rescue Marian, and be out of the castle before sunrise.
His wrists were chafed, but he almost had one free of the cuff. A bit more blood would lubricate it and . . . he winced, the pain a sharp stinging, until his hand gave, and he was wrenched free from the cuff. "Oh, thank god," he breathed. His wrist was still bleeding, but he'd tend to it later. With one hand free, he was able to reach his boot. Within his heel, he kept a small lockpick for such occasions. Never say that Robin Hood did not come prepared. Taking the lockpick, he worked on freeing his other hand, his eye on the door. There were at least two guards outside of that door. How many more on patrol, he was unsure.
Robin was counting on his Merry Men storming the castle. Or, well, quietly storming the castle. More like a summer rain really—gentle and calming. "Bloody hell, I'm thirsty," he muttered to himself, then heard a click, and the cuff spring open. Free entirely, he sprang up and ripped some of his tunic, quickly bandaging his injured wrist. Pressing himself against the wall near the door, he peeked through the guard window slowly. As he thought, the two guards were standing just in front of the door.
Kneeling, he started to pick the lock on the door, hoping his little noises wouldn't attract the guards. The second it clicked, he heard one of the guards ask, "hey, what was-?" but that was all he got out before Robin shoved the door forward and knocked him right out. His fist collided with the other guard's face, breaking his nose. The guard cried out and clutched at his face, his other hand drawing his sword blindly. Robin grabbed the unconscious guard's sword and used the pommel to strike the guard in the back of the head. The guard slumped, and he pulled them into the cell he had just abandoned.
Stripping one of them, he put on their armor and sheathed the sword at his side. Robin walked down the hall, searching for the stairs out of the dungeon. The sound of fighting caught his interest, and he hurried his step. Just as he reached a spiral staircase, he found a guard rolling down it—head over feet. Slumped at Robin's feet, he pulled him to the side and looked up just as . . . "Marian!" he cried, seeing the leather-clad form of his dearest love. "What are you doing here?"
"Robin?" Marian asked, removing his helmet. Seeing his face, she broke into a relieved grin, "oh, Robin!" She threw her arms around him, and he embraced her tightly, confused but relieved to see her as well. Behind Marian, Little John and Will Scarlet walked smugly down the stairs.
"Thought you needed a little help," Will grinned.
"We freed our little lady here and brought her some clothes more appropriate for an escape," Little John explained. "We were just coming to grab you, but it looks as though you were doing just fine without us."
"I could say the same of you," Robin replied. "Let's get out of here before the rest of the castle decides to ruin our night." They rushed back up the stairs and towards the tower that Marian had been staying in. Robin noticed unconscious guards left and right. They'd done quite well. He was proud of them. Once they entered Marian's room, they took to the window. A rope dangled down to the ground—obviously where Little John and Will had ascended and reunited with their Marian. Below, he could see Alan-a-Dale and Much standing guard and gesturing them down.
One-by-one, they climbed down the rope. Robin was the last to go, ensuring the others were safe first. Before he left, he took the sword at his belt and carved 'RH' into the wall. A little present for their dear Sheriff and Phony King of England. Slipping down the rope, he touched the ground and embraced the rest of his Merry Men. "Well done. Well done all of you. Now, let's return home before risk our luck any further." They rushed off to the forest line where their horses were hidden.
Robin helped Marian mount, then climbed onto his own horse. With a quick flick of his heels, they galloped into the forest, disappearing into the night. They did not stop until they reached the safety of Sherwood Forest—and their camp within. Robin heard the tell-tale whistle of one of the night watchmen announcing their arrival. All over the trees, they had sentries placed to watch for any unwanted company. It was rare for a guard to stumble their way—so deep in the Sherwood Forest were they located. Not to mention, local superstition often kept even the bravest of souls from traversing the wild and untamable Sherwood Forest.
They rode through a final checkpoint—invisible to the untrained eye—and then entered their encampment. There was little on the ground by means of buildings. Everything was built in the trees. Treehouses of all shapes and sizes were built around massive trees—each one connected by a rope bridge. Lanterns lit up the small tree-village, casting everything in a warm glow. The one feature on the ground—besides the stables—was a giant fire pit where the community's meals were cooked and often ate around. The pit was burning brightly as they arrived.
The Merry Men—and their families—cheered when they entered. Robin couldn't help but grin at their warm reception. Dismounting, he was attacked with hugs and pats on the back. It was as if he had gotten rid of the Sheriff completely! Still, denying the Sheriff Marian's hand was a cause for victory in itself. Once he was released, he took Marian's hand and led her from the crowd who was looking to celebrate with an early breakfast.
"I was worried about you," Robin told her. "What could have possessed you to agree to marry Sheriff?" he asked her.
Marian smiled and shook her head. "I couldn't let you just die, Robin. You're more important than me. Than any of us."
That made him frown. "I am who I am because of you. If you weren't here . . . if you weren't with me . . . I'd be nothing but a two-bit thief with a penchant for getting grotesquely drunk." His hand tightened on hers, and he pulled her closer to him. "I can't ever let you do that again. Not for me. I love you, Marian." The words left his lips for the first time. A grin followed shortly after when he saw the light dazzle in her eyes.
"I love you too, Robin," she replied, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him deeply. Robin held her clasped to him. A fire may have been burning brightly beside them, but it paled to the inferno in his heart as he held her—the woman he loved.
Emma returned shortly after Marian's heart had been removed. She informed them that the culprit behind the ice wall and Marian's curse was the ice cream lady. Robin was astonished. It made sense, however. They had just seen her earlier that day. It was frightening. It could have been Roland who she attacked. "Do you have her in custody?" Robin asked her.
"Not yet," Emma admitted. "We're still looking for her. But . . . at least we know who to look for. Keep your men on watch. It's easy to hide in the forest."
"If she's out there, we'll find her," Robin vowed, his tone angry. She had attacked his family. That wasn't something he could just take laying down. Right now though, he needed to see his son and somehow . . . explain. "I need to see Roland," he said, then looked at Regina. She was dressed in, perhaps, the most casual set of clothes he had ever seen her in. He realized that, suddenly, with a warm, endearing feeling. Before he could catch himself, he dreamed of what it would be like had they continued to see one another. When her walls came completely down, and she pulled out those—what did Snow call them?—sweatpants. Though, judging by the description, he highly doubted Regina owned a pair. Pajamas then. Those were extremely casual. A pang of regret hit him when he recalled that he would never be allowed to see her so casual—so off-guard. He wasn't allowed that intimacy anymore.
"Thank-you," he said finally. Regina nodded, silent, likely still processing his earlier words. He glanced at Marian once more, then left the Mayor's Office and headed down towards the forest. His steps were quick. It was getting dark, and he needed to see Roland and set up a perimeter before then. Once he reached the camp, he was met by Little John.
"We need to set up night shifts," Robin told him. "We're looking for the woman who ran the ice cream shop. Blond hair. Rather pale. Tall."
"Mate, I know. I went to that ice cream store like every day," Little John told him. "Why is she after your family?"
"I don't know," Robin sighed. "Regina is going to help, but . . ." his gaze fell on Roland, who was sitting in their tent in his pajamas. He looked scared. "What do I say to him? How do I tell a boy who just got his mother back that she's on the verge of death again?"
Little John gripped his shoulder. "You remember that you're his father, and to a little boy, it's only his father who can make the monsters go away."
He considered those words, then nodded. "Thank-you. I'll take second watch. There's no bloody way I'm sleeping anytime soon." Robin brushed past him and headed for his son.
"Papa?" Roland greeted him. "Is Mama better?"
Robin gave a forced smile. "Not yet, little lion. But she's alright. You'll see her soon, promise." Pressing a kiss to Roland's temple, he urged him back into the tent. "Regina is going to find some medicine that will make her all better, and then she can read to you again. What book did you and Mama start together?" he asked, resting on his side beside his son. Roland grabbed a book off of the small chair inside of the tent.
"Ah," Robin looked at the book. "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. Would you like me to read a bit tonight?"
"Mhm," Roland nodded and got into his sleeping bag. Robin pulled his favorite blanket up over him, tucking him in. "Alright." Clearing his throat, Robin began. "Boom. They knocked again. Dudley jerked awake. 'Where's the cannon?' he said stupidly," Robin read, mimicking voices in the manner that Roland liked. Reading stories had been their evening past time before Marian had returned. Hoping to build that connection between mother and son, Robin had allowed Marian to take over his bedtime reading profession. "'Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby,' said the giant. 'Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mom's eyes,'" Robin read.
"Like me?" Roland asked.
"Mhm. Just like you," Robin nodded.
"I'm Harry Potter!" Roland concluded with an excited grin.
The rest of the chapter was read until it concluded. Roland's eyes were half-closed by the time Robin marked his place. "You can be whoever you want to be, little lion," he murmured, kissing his forehead. And he hoped, by the time Roland was old enough, he'd be able to love whoever he wanted, too.