On that glad night

in secret, for no one saw me,

nor did I look at anything

with no other light or guide

than the One that burned in my heart.

"And …and …then…. and…"

Regina wasn't quite following what Roland was saying to her. He had been talking her head off since they got out of the water. She was so relieved he was ok, she let him prattle on.

When Robin emerged from the water, he too was soaking wet, and drew his son from her into his arms.

Regina watched the reunion in silence and then asked, "Is this a good time to say 'I told you so?'"

"No," he replied, not looking at her, and kissing Roland.

"Good. I told you so!" Robin shook his head, a small smile on his face. Regina leaned toward him and whispered loudly, "And you're welcome."

He nodded, "Thank you," touched his son's cloak. "He's dry."

"I used magic," Regina said simply.

Robin abruptly took his attention away from Roland and looked long and hard at her. A beat, and then, "Could you do that for me?"

"Oh, hell no!"

He laughed heartedly at that, and held out his hand. "A shake, then?"

She took it reluctantly, trying not to wince at the tattoo. "And a wife," Regina added.

"A what?" he looked sharply at her.

"Or a nanny." She pointed severely at him, "Do you hear me? A wife or a nanny! Keep that boy at the castle."

He bowed his head, "Yes, m'lady."

"And next time don't make me jump in a river to prove the point!"

"As you have said."

"Good. I'm glad that's settled," Regina stood up. "Now let's get back to your men, and move!"

Regina kept Roland firmly by her side the rest of the day, speaking to him, holding him when he napped, and when they made camp, tucking him into bed. None of the band objected and there was a noticeable new regard for her. Amazing. Such a cliché. She just had to save a little boy's life to finally get some respect. "Men," she muttered, shaking her head as she proceeded to sing a lullaby to Roland. One of Henry's favorites when he was little.

As soon as the child was in deep sleep, Regina moved to the fire. Robin was there too, concerned enough yet to keep an eye on her with his son, she knew. The rest had retired. She sat by him.

"A wife or…." she began.

"A nanny," he interrupted. "The point has been well made."

"I don't think it would be too hard for you to find either," she muttered.

He smiled at that, and handed her the flask. As her lips touched the rim, she tasted rum. She pretended to take a sip.

"A nanny."

"What?" Regina asked.

"A nanny," Robin repeated. "I'm not … " he paused. "A wife is not something I want now. Maybe never."

There was a long silence. Awkward. "I'm sorry you lost her," Regina finally said softly.

"She was the best thing that ever happened to me," he said quietly, staring pensively into the fire.

She handed the flask back to him, at a loss for words. He jerked his head slightly to her, "And you? You lost your husband."

Regina chucked darkly, "Lost?" He frowned. "Sorry. I never loved…well, the king wasn't exactly my first choice." She was now staring into the fire, "My mother accepted for me. I didn't have much of a say in the matter." He was still looking at her, so she continued, "It was before I, before I became … what I am."

"You were, rather." Robin's words caught her off guard. "It seems you've changed," he explained. "Isn't that what you've been so implicitly trying to convey?"

She recovered and narrowed her eyes mischievously, "I could be deceiving you, you know."

"Deceiving?"

"You know the whole 'conjure a beast, save the kid to fool you into trusting me.'"

"You could be," he took another drink, "but you aren't."

After a moment, Regina replied. "No, I'm not." She looked up, trying to find something to change the subject. Robin held out his hand to give her the flask again. Good. A distraction. But then the tattoo again came into her line of vision.

Damn.

"Don't think that I haven't noticed you eyeing that from the moment we met," Robin noted.

Double Damn.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing," Regina pretended to drink again and gave it back, "nothing at all."

"If it were nothing you wouldn't flinch like the devil before Holy Water," Robin contradicted. He peered at her. "What is it?"

She found her opening, "You have Holy Water?"

"Yes. We have friars too. Friar Tuck?"

"Interesting how the Middle Ages exist in a corner of the Enchanted Forest," Regina remarked.

"The Middle Ages?"

Nice. She had turned the conversation in a different direction. "What we call where you live in the other world. But a time, not a place."

"Interesting indeed," Robin mused.

"Time periods existing in other worlds," Regina added.

"Yes, but," Robin's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist," don't think you will succeed in changing the subject!" His move was sudden, but gentle. Then he touched her hand to the tattoo. They both stared at it. "No sizzling, hot burning flesh," he remarked. Regina shrugged. "So it's not holy magic you flinch from. So I ask again," he leaned in, "what is it?"

"Nothing," she repeated.

"If it were nothing you would ignore it."

Regina's voice rose. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"When you don't care about something, you ignore it," Robin told her. "No reaction. No anger. Just nothing." She didn't answer. "Is it the lion?" he inquired. "What does a lion mean?"

"I'm rusty on symbology," Regina answered dryly.

Cold eyes met steel ones, and then a warm hand suddenly had her finger tracing the tattoo.

"What does a lion mean?" Robin spoke softly, but it was a command.

"It's…." as she spoke the hand kept tracing, and her voice got lower, "It's a symbol of pride, royalty…"

"And?"

"And nothing… just nothing." She pulled away. "I don't care."

"If you didn't care..."

"I wouldn't allow it to bother me. Yes. Got it." He waited. "You're not going to let this go?"

"No."

Regina sighed, "There's a…. sort of prophecy."

"Ah," both of Robin's eyebrows raised, "a prophecy. And what did the seer say?"

"Worse than a seer," Regina grumbled, "a fairy."

"Does it portend your doom?" He asked in mock terror.

She shrugged again.

"Or mine perhaps?"

"Depends on how you interpret it," Regina replied. "And there's no way in hell I'm telling you. We all know what happens, don't you, professor?"

"It becomes self-fulfilling." Robin nodded. "And I'm a scholar, not a professor."

"Same difference."

"Actually there's…."

"Oh my gods can we not start this again?" Regina exclaimed.

"Not start what?" Robin asked.

She glared and he laughed. "Stop it!" Regina ordered. "Today I got soaked in a river, my feet hurt, and to make an understatement, I'm cranky."

"Very well," he replied, but then his hand reached out to hers, and closed around her wrist. All breath left her in a silent whoosh, and her arm tingled.

"Your turn," Robin leaned in, eyes piercing.

"Mine?"

He continued, "Quid pro quo?"

"Entschuldigung?"

"Or Latin for?" he pressed.

"I know what it means," Regina told him.

"If you have a prophecy about me," he adjusted his seat, "so must I about you. Let me read it."

"There's nothing on my wrist," she smirked knowingly, "And it's on the hand for the fortune tellers."

"Ah, divination."

"Which you don't believe in."

"And neither do you." Robin still had her hand, traced her hand haphazardly, and spoke, "The Evil Queen is very powerful, she's done horrible things, terrible things that can never be forgiven or forgotten by any realm." Her hand was trapped by both his now, "But there is a law beyond the realm that can grant it. If she has the courage to accept it." He glanced up at her.

Regina pulled her hand away. "You suck at fortune telling."

"I apologize," Robin perked up again. "When the opportunity presents itself again I'll give you a better one. Something about great riches and treasures."

"Sounds good," she stood and looked everywhere but at him. "Thank you for the rum."

"You didn't drink it," he grinned at her.

Regina allowed a half-smile in return and walked to her tent.

Her arm was still tingling.

Don't look back. Don't look back.

She looked back.

He was standing by the fire watching her.

She quickly turned her head and lay down to try and sleep.