It's been months now since Robin returned home for a week, and then ended up back in Wonderland. Months since he last saw his son, and there's an ache inside of him every single day they're apart. He knows for himself now that Roland is safe, at least, he's seen it with his own eyes, and knows Roland won't even realize that he's not there, which is a small comfort. It's hard, though, to not have the routine of telling him a bedtime story and tucking him in, playing games with him in the forest, teaching him about arrows - dull ones to start, so his boy doesn't get hurt - and fashioning him his own little bow and quiver. He misses him so much.
And that's why this memory is both a blessing a curse. He remembers it, every moment of this day with his son. The moment his boy came into the world was one of the happiest days of his life, but losing Marian soon after taints the memory a bit; he hates that Roland has only now gotten to know his mother, and vice versa.
But this memory, this is pure and good:
They're in the forest at Robin's camp, and dawn is just breaking, the sky a beautiful sight with its vibrant orange and yellow streaks as the sun makes it ascent. He has to be a part of it the first time, has to sit there near the campfire and cradle his baby boy in his arms. Roland has just turned one, but he always loved being held by his papa as he awoke. In this memory, as his eyes blink open, he grabs for Robin's free hand, a dimpled grin on his face as he smiles up at his papa. And then, then comes one of the happiest moments of Robin's life: "Papa."
Roland has been making all sorts of sounds for months now, making attempts at forming words, and he's come so close, but this is the first time he finally calls him papa, looking right at him. And Robin blinks back happy tears as he smiles right back at Roland. "I'm papa, and you're my sweet boy," he confirms, kissing his son's head.
He can only bear to be part of the memory once. Just once.
For a few hours, though, he sits near his open door just watching, sometimes standing up and leaning against the doorframe. He should leave; nothing changes, it's the same loop over and over, but he can't. He needs this for as long as he can have it today. Eventually, he'll step back and get something to eat, give himself a moment to collect his thoughts.
Robin Hood | 8th Floor, room 26 | OTA
And that's why this memory is both a blessing a curse. He remembers it, every moment of this day with his son. The moment his boy came into the world was one of the happiest days of his life, but losing Marian soon after taints the memory a bit; he hates that Roland has only now gotten to know his mother, and vice versa.
But this memory, this is pure and good:
They're in the forest at Robin's camp, and dawn is just breaking, the sky a beautiful sight with its vibrant orange and yellow streaks as the sun makes it ascent. He has to be a part of it the first time, has to sit there near the campfire and cradle his baby boy in his arms. Roland has just turned one, but he always loved being held by his papa as he awoke. In this memory, as his eyes blink open, he grabs for Robin's free hand, a dimpled grin on his face as he smiles up at his papa. And then, then comes one of the happiest moments of Robin's life: "Papa."
Roland has been making all sorts of sounds for months now, making attempts at forming words, and he's come so close, but this is the first time he finally calls him papa, looking right at him. And Robin blinks back happy tears as he smiles right back at Roland. "I'm papa, and you're my sweet boy," he confirms, kissing his son's head.
He can only bear to be part of the memory once. Just once.
For a few hours, though, he sits near his open door just watching, sometimes standing up and leaning against the doorframe. He should leave; nothing changes, it's the same loop over and over, but he can't. He needs this for as long as he can have it today. Eventually, he'll step back and get something to eat, give himself a moment to collect his thoughts.