Chapter Text
Robin had never anticipated that he would be living in a dwelling with four walls again, much less the castle he was currently inhabiting with his Merry Men, especially when he had broken into said castle once upon a time. Then again, when one was invited to reside in the Evil Queen’s castle, one did not refuse - even if it had been Prince David and Princess Snow who had invited them to live there with them.
And even after the princess had extended the invitation, Robin had considered turning down the offer at the look on the Queen’s face. It was crystal clear to anyone who gazed upon her that she had no desire to share her precious castle with anyone, least of all “filthy thieves” like him and his men.
However, there was one small exception to her distaste for them that came in the form of his small son. Roland had taken to her with a rapidity that Robin had never witnessed before, particularly in regards to women. Because he had grown up with men his entire life, Roland was typically shy around the fairer gender. He was even skittish around Princess Snow, which baffled Robin, given that the princess had the kindest heart of anyone he had ever known. It was almost intolerable, how she and her prince doted on each other. While he was no stranger to showing affection, the degree to which the happy couple engaged in public displays of their love for each other was almost sickly sweet, even for him.
And he knew that Snow’s stepmother felt the same way. Most of the time when Robin interacted with the queen, it was clear that she couldn’t stand him, and she was so stubborn and the reign of terror of her black knights had been so horrific that he did not exert the effort to understand her. After all, it was likely that she wouldn’t let him in, not even when he had helped her break into this very castle.
But whenever Snow and David were engaging in sweet nothings, Robin would sometimes catch the queen’s eye and share a look of disgust. But then she would look away and return to the cold demeanor she habitually assumed, and any proof that the vulnerable queen that he had experienced when he had snuck into her castle existed was obliterated as quickly as a candle that had been extinguished for the night.
Regardless of her kind heart, for a reason unbeknownst to Robin, his son had rejected many of the princess's efforts to spend time with him, preferring instead the company of the queen. It worried poor Little John to no end, how much time his son spent with the monarch, and as his uncle, he hadn't hesitated to make his concerns known.
"Robin, how can you in good conscience allow Roland to follow that monster like he's her shadow?" John had demanded on more than one occasion. “It’s dangerous, how can we trust her not to harm him? She’s certainly proven she’s not unwilling to harm innocent people.”
All Robin could do was sigh. Like his friends, he didn’t think that he would ever fully understand the Queen. However, unlike his Merry Men, he was somewhat willing to give her a chance. Their prejudices had blinded them from day one. He knew there had to be more to her, but she made it almost impossible to see, and he and his men had all but given up- some of them had never even tried to see good in her. In the meantime, Robin was caught in the middle, willing to try to find good in her for his son’s sake, but constantly met with resistance from all sides.
Perhaps the most difficult person to convince of the queen’s complicated personality was Will. One day after they had come in from patrolling the castle grounds, dragging their feet on the dark stone floor as the large oak doors slammed shut behind them, Regina immediately swooped down upon them and ordered them to take off their shoes and carry them to their individual rooms. “Honestly, it’s like you were all never taught about cleanliness. Did you grow up in the forest in addition to living in it before you came here?”
Robin did a double take, while Will took offense at her words. He opened his mouth to speak, but one look from both the queen and Robin silenced him. While he understood his friend’s indignation, Robin knew that an argument with the Queen over something so trivial wasn’t worth it.
But that didn’t stop him from complaining to Robin when they got back to their quarters, a series of interconnected rooms on the ground floor that, though sparsely furnished with a chest of drawers and a bed each, were more than adequate lodgings for those used to sleeping under a blanket of stars. “Why do we have to listen to her? Seems to me that the Prince and Princess are in charge now, so we don’t need to take orders from Her Majesty.”
“It is still her home,” Robin admonished gently. “We should feel grateful for her hospitality, no matter how difficult she may be to understand.”
“Difficult to understand?” Will repeated incredulously. “That’s putting it mildly, mate! We should be thankful that she hasn’t ripped out our hearts yet. And honestly, I think it’s only a matter of time. Did you see the way she was glaring at me just now?”
“I know she can be difficult to deal with. But appearances may not mean anything, Will,” Robin attempted to explain for what felt like the hundredth time. “She just doesn’t appreciate a mess, that’s all. Besides, there’s a reason for it today, as the Prince and Princess are hosting a ball this evening, remember? A ball that we’re invited to and we need to prepare for.”
“And that’s another thing, why do we have to have these ridiculous balls?” Will whined. “The queen never seems like she wants the company of anyone except perhaps your son. Why is she gathering us all together, to rip out our hearts and put them in her vault?”
Ignoring his last comment, Robin pointed out, “To be fair, Their Highnesses are the ones who are hosting the ball. The queen simply has the misfortune to be the owner of the castle.”
“Well, you’d think she would have put a stop to it, then,” Will complained as Robin discarded his everyday tunic in favor of a sky blue shirt that the princess had informed him brought out his eyes.
“Will, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Robin pointed out. “After all, it’s an invitation, not a royal command. The prince and princess value us as more than just accomplices. We are their friends first and foremost. Attending is the least we can do after they offered to share shelter and food with us.”
“I know. I’ll go. But I won’t like it,” Will declared, his eyes daring Robin to challenge him.
“And that is your prerogative,” Robin reminded him as he helped Roland dress in an emerald green shirt. “Personally, I plan to attend and enjoy myself.”
“You know she won’t be there- so your primary motivation for going will be a waste. You may as well stay here,” Will claimed.
“Who exactly are you referring to?” Robin inquired, feigning ignorance. Surely, none of his men thought that he had feelings for the Queen? The idea was preposterous.
Sure enough, Will replied, “The Evil Queen, mate. You know how she despises these things. And don’t tell her this, but I can’t say I blame her. The princess puts these together too often, the novelty wore off long ago.”
“Are you saying that you won’t take this opportunity to try to woo Belle?” Robin asked, smirking.
Will crossed his arms. “So what if I am? Besides, it’s more likely that Belle will be in the library tonight, not in some gown.”
Robin simply shook his head, smiling. While his friend did have a point - after all, Belle was the palace’s chief researcher- he also knew that Belle was as much of a hopeless romantic as he was, which was part of the reason they got along so well. “I suspect you may be incorrect. But you are, of course, welcome to check. Now excuse me, we mustn’t be late.” He hoisted Roland up onto his hip and walked out of the room, leaving a flabbergasted Will behind them.
When he got to the elaborately decorated ballroom, his eyes immediately sought those dark orbs that would forever remain mysterious to him. But alas, the queen was nowhere to be found. Framed by brightly colored walls and an array of candles, citizens of all classes filled the room, dressed in a vibrant array of colors that, together, created a dazzling display of finery. They were a magnificent tapestry composed of twirling parts, their steps to the minstrels’ tune nothing short of elegant. The only thing missing was their queen.
The prince and princess, unlike the princess’s stepmother, were among their guests, talking and laughing with them as if they had known each of their subjects for years. And in truth, Robin had no doubt that they had. Their Highnesses were not only kind, but compassionate, and had won over their subjects long before the curse that took them away from this land was cast. In the days when Snow was as much a bandit as Robin himself, people in every tavern Robin frequented had sung the praises of Snow White and the man who was thought to be Prince James. It had come as a shock to discover that King George’s son was in fact not who he said he was- or even the original Prince James. Perhaps that was part of the reason Robin was so loyal to them: unlike other royalty and authority figures he had encountered in his lifetime, they were some of the most genuine, down-to-earth people he had ever met.
Which turned his thoughts back to the queen. Their adventure breaking into this castle had taught him that there was more to her than met the eye, but he had not yet managed to put a dent in the walls that surrounded her heart like a fortress. And if he was perfectly honest, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He was wary of her, but he also suspected that there was much more to her than she ever let people see. He had caught a glimpse of it on the night they had broken into her castle, and while he knew she had once been formidable and he should keep her at arm’s length on some occasions, he couldn’t help believing that there was something more underneath the persona she perpetually presented.
As if he had suddenly been put under a spell, he felt his eyes being drawn to the doorway, and when he beheld the vision before him, he thought her to be a mirage, so great was her beauty.
The Queen stood at the entrance to the ballroom, her hair in an elaborate updo on top of her head. The gown she was wearing was in an unusual style: a bright red that looked stunning with her dark hair, with an unusual neckline that he supposed had come from the Land Without Magic. The effect was breathtaking, so much so that he doubted his eyes would stray far from her all evening. It was the first time he had ever noticed how truly breathtaking she could be.
Although perhaps he would be able to tear his eyes away from the vision before him for one person, he thought as he felt a tug on his shirt. He looked down at his son’s dark curls, matching Roland’s smile with one of his own. “Well hello, Roland. Are you having fun?”
“Yes!” Roland exclaimed as Gepetto’s son, Pinocchio, ran up behind him. “Did you see Gina, Papa? She looks so pretty!”
“That she does,” Robin quietly agreed, his gaze once again beholding the queen in her raiment. His son’s use of a nickname for the queen was unprecedented. No one else who resided in the castle, aside from Snow and David, dared to address Her Majesty by anything other than her formal title. Robin always called her “milady,” an endearment that he knew drove her to distraction. But she had never once ripped out his heart, which he had to admit was likely for Roland’s benefit, not his own. It appeared that having lost a son, she was unwilling to leave a child an orphan, one of the few redeeming qualities he had seen her willingly display.
“You should ask her to dance, Papa!” Roland suggested, his little voice eager. “She looks lonely, she needs one of your hugs.”
Robin’s smile faded. Ask her to dance? His son’s innocence was woven throughout the question. He could imagine how that would go…
Robin approached the Queen nervously, his heart in his throat. Her beauty was so astounding that he could scarcely believe that she was real instead of a figment of his imagination. Her dark hair was in a style that was almost flawless, save for one lone curl falling over her cheek that Robin was surprised she didn’t tuck back into place.
“What do you want, thief?” she asked, her tone indicating that she was in no mood for games.
He swallowed, the lump in his throat so large that he wondered how he would be able to speak. His palms were sweating and his heart was beating so fast he was afraid it would fly out of his chest and into her open palm. He couldn’t believe he was really going through with this. “Your Majesty,” he addressed her, bowing low before her. Best to begin on the right foot, and surely calling her by her title would accomplish that task.
She groaned. “Just spit it out. What do you want, thief?”
He resisted the urge to chuckle. Of course, she wouldn’t deem him worthy of addressing him by his name, even though he addressed her by the title she had always requested. “Milady, I have simply come to ask for the honor of sharing a dance with you.”
Her face contorted, fury blazing in her eyes. She waved her hand, and his throat constricted, his pulse jumped, and panic seized him. She wouldn’t kill him... would she? Gasping for air, he pleaded with her, “You won’t kill me. You may be called the Evil Queen, but you wouldn’t leave a child fatherless.”
She clenched her fist, and the struggle to breathe was even more difficult than it had been before. “If you thought for a second that asking me that question was a good idea, you were sorely mistaken. How dare you? I would never dance with a common thief like you.” She came forward and reached inside his chest. The sensation of her hand grasping and pulling out his heart was unlike anything he had ever felt before, veins and arteries and bones shifting to accommodate Her Majesty’s will.
At last, his heart, which pulsed a bright red, was in her grasp. She held it up to her lips, and when she spoke into it, he felt nothing more than the need to obey her command, whatever it may be. “Never ask me that question again.”
Robin shook his head slowly and looked down at his innocent son. His eyes were filled with such a pure hope that Robin didn't want to disappoint him. But this enterprise would have to be handled delicately.
He knelt so he was looking his little boy in the eye. "All right, Roland. I will go ask the Queen if she will honor me with a dance. On one condition."
"YAY!" Roland yelled, too excited about his victory to listen to his father's terms.
"Ah, ah, ah," Robin admonished, bopping his son on the nose with the tip of his index finger. "You didn't listen to my condition. You must go over to your uncles and behave for the rest of the night- which means no more sweets." He had noticed the boy sneaking many savory treats from the table (often with the help of his uncle Will), and didn't want a boy who was too energetic to sleep on his hands at the end of the evening. Roland's face fell when he revealed, "I've seen you sneaking sweets with your Uncle Will."
Roland nodded sadly and walked away, leaving Robin to his next task: asking the Queen for a dance. He couldn't believe that he would be asking the monster for any favor, let alone this, but he would do anything to put a smile on Roland's face.
As he approached the Queen, her mood did not seem favorable for the task Roland had given him. Her nostrils flared as he approached her, her eyes narrow slits as she spat, “What do you want, thief? Don’t mess with me, I’m in no mood for your games tonight.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, milady,” he assured her, bowing low before her. “I merely come with a request. May I have the next dance?”
Her incredulous laugh cut through the air like the chattering of a flock of birds who had been disturbed in their nest. Her laughter shook her whole body so much that she doubled over. Robin took a moment to remind himself that he was doing this for Roland. If not, he would be laughing at the notion as well. “I know, it’s a ridiculous idea. It’s just that my son asked me to, and as you may know from personal experience, it’s difficult to say no to a child his age.”
She became silent then, and contemplated his son with such a gentle expression that Robin found it hard to believe that she was capable of that softness. But he had to remind himself that like him, she was a parent. It was likely that like him, she was unable to deny a child, even one who was his flesh and blood, anything.
Sure enough, after a long pause she said slowly, “Well… if it’s really for Roland…”
He nodded fervently. “It is, Your Majesty.”
“All right, then,” she acquiesced. “Just know that this is only for Roland. And if it turns out that you have two left feet, I’m never dancing with you again, even for him.”
With that declaration, the minstrels began to play the next song. Robin held out his hand, and the Queen took it.
Once they were in the middle of the dance floor, Robin couldn’t help noticing that every eye was on them. The Queen seemed to have noticed it as well, and as a result, her expression soured. But instead of pulling away from him as he had expected, she continued to dance. Perhaps she was unwilling to show her subjects that they had gotten to her. After all, her exterior shell was difficult to break through.
Suddenly, he heard a crash, and Robin and his reluctant dance partner broke apart, their mouths agape as they looked up. Robin knew that they were in the tallest room of the castle, a room so high that its ceiling was as tall as the highest tower. He saw the proof of this now as he stared at the twinkling stars in the night sky. It would have seemed peaceful to him, quite fitting for the night’s events.
His attention was brought back to the ground when he heard a familiar cackle.
He knew that laugh. It was Zelena, the Wicked Witch!
He rushed to where Roland was sitting at a table with Little John and the rest of his Merry Men. Thankful for his constant state of readiness, he drew his bow and knocked an arrow, ready to defend his son should the need arise.
And it appeared that it might, as Zelena looked back and forth between himself and the Queen. “Well, this is a charming new development. In fact, I can use this to my advantage. Do you love him, sis? Or are you just using him?”
They refuted her claims simultaneously.
“What?! That thief-”
“No, she just-”
The Wicked Witch chose to address Robin, approaching him slowly. Robin drew the arrow taut, ready to defend his son and friends if need be. “Am I, though? You two seemed awfully cozy just before I arrived. In fact, I’m almost sorry I interrupted it.” She grinned. “But I’m so glad I did. It makes what I’m about to do so much more satisfying.”
She moved so quickly that Robin didn’t know what happened. One minute she was grinning at him, and the next, he felt his throat being squeezed so tightly that he dropped his bow to see what the witch was strangling him with. But of course, there was nothing there. Looking over at Roland, he could easily discern that his son was experiencing the same phenomenon, and while his heart yearned to help him, he was unable to move.
Zelena snickered and approached father and son, holding up a small glass vial. “There we go. Now I have you right where I want you.”
As her magical grip on his airway lessened, he felt his arms lock behind his back and his feet stick to the floor, much like the Queen had done not long ago. Only his eyes could move, and he could see that they were in the same predicament. “You think he loves you, sis? Well, I’ll make sure that he forgets that he even knew you.”
With that, she grabbed Robin’s neck and forced his head back. A potion trickled down his throat. His mind clouded and he dimly heard the Wicked Witch say something, but for some unknown reason, he couldn’t hear her. He saw her sprinkle something over Roland and vanish in a puff of green smoke.
Limbs freed, Robin immediately knelt and embraced Roland, examining him from head to toe to ensure that the Wicked Witch had not harmed him. His son’s safety assured, he glanced up, and as he looked at the Evil Queen, he didn’t know why on earth he wasn’t by her side. Surely, she needed protection, as the Wicked Witch wished her nothing but harm. And as the man who loved her, it was his job to make sure no harm came her way.
As he reached her, Roland’s voice broke the silence that had fallen in the wake of the Wicked Witch’s departure. “Mama!”
********
Regina stared at the youngest Merry Man, dumbfounded. Mama? Her heart lurched at the reminder that she was mother only to an almost teenage boy who was now far beyond her reach who had no idea she even existed. She wouldn’t ever hear him shout “Mom!” again. The thought made her heart lurch as she ached for what she couldn’t have. Whatever Zelena had given Roland must have made him forget that Marian was his real mother. How long that would last, she didn’t know, and in the meantime, she didn’t know if she could stand reminders of what she had lost.
Forcing her attention away from Roland, she noticed that the thief, too, seemed not himself. Regina wondered what specifically had happened to him. Likely not what her sister had intended, as she assumed that the thief hated her as much as she loathed him. But then the question remained: what had it done? Because he seemed out of sorts, and as much as she often wished he had never entered the walls of her castle, she wondered what her sister had done to him to make him look like that . He looked like some lovesick idiot, and he was looking at her , of all people. That couldn’t be right.
But in fact, it was. When he reached her, he took her hand and when he bent as if he was trying to kiss it, she snatched it away. “How dare you, thief ?”
“Please, Your Majesty,” one of those filthy men that was one his fellow honorable outlaws begged. “It’s clear that the witch did something to them and they’re not thinking clearly. No one would wish for Roland to forget Marian. Please, for his sake-”
“What? Pretend to be his mother?” she snapped in a furious whisper, not wanting Roland to hear her. “I have no desire to raise a boy who’s the son of Robin Hood, of all people. And besides, pretending would only hurt him, and as much as I hate to admit it, he’s an innocent, I have no desire to hurt him.”
“But don’t you see, Regina?” her insufferable stepdaughter addressed her as she stepped forward. “You’re hurting him already by denying him this.”
The annoying princess had a point. She could hear Roland’s sniffles and could see tears gathering in his eyelashes. She sighed. There was only one thing to do. And maybe she could get something out of it, she reasoned as she looked once again at the thief. Once this all went south, he would be heartbroken, and it would serve him right for how much he annoyed her on a daily basis.
But Roland… Roland would be crushed as well if they ever found a cure for what ailed him and his father. But looking at his sweet dimpled face and cocoa curls that, ironically, were so similar to her own, she knew that no matter what, if she decided to do this, there would be no going back. A part of her would always see him as her son. And while she would likely pine for Henry with every word out of the little boy's mouth, she knew it was the right thing to do, what Henry would want her to do. For her son's sake, she would do it.
She nodded, and she saw the largest of the thieves breathe a sigh of relief. She heard one of his companions grumble, “We’ll all regret this. Mark my words.”
Yes. Yes, they would likely all regret their actions tonight. But looking at Roland’s sweet arms as she opened her arms to him, she knew she wouldn’t truly regret one second of being his mother, no matter what happened next.