The chill seeped through his thin clothes, his cheaply made shoes quickly into rags beneath his feet, so the cold damp floor froze his small feet as Robin restlessly paced around the small dirty cell.

He knew it would be best if he just sat down and huddled for warmth, but he was a wild young boy, used to the sun beating down on his face, running through the woods and playing with his friends. He couldn't just sit down because then he would start thinking about how dark and tiny his cell was, how much he missed his friends, his family and how utterly alone and isolated he felt for the first time in his life, then he wold get sad. Which he refused to become because his papa always told him to never feel sorry for himself and especially that boys do not cry.

Robin looked outside the one tiny window his cell contained and saw the sun had risen. So he bent down into the dirt and scrawled another straight line into the earthen floor of his cell. Like many peasants he couldn't count, so the only thing those crude marks in the dirt could tell him was he spent many days in this cell, more days than there was fingers on both of his hands.

Robin knew he was lucky the queen's guard took pity on him, a scrawny peasant boy with a dirty face and only threw him into a cell. He was lucky still that the guard provided him with two meals a day. Even at his young age he knew many thieves suffered a much worst fate after being caught stealing.

Outside he could hear voices, many voices and more footsteps. Robin practically ran to the window, to stand on his tippy toes, tilt his head, and grasp the black bars with his small hands so he could peer outside. He could see a crowd of people gathered together on the cobbled streets. Robin stared desperately at them hoping to see a glimpse of his mother, or his papa, or his sister, or the little sister he loved so desperately he stole for, which landed him into this cell. But he recognized no one, dejectedly he turned his head down ready to sit in the corner when he heard the high pitched voice of his best frieTD.

Robin ran back to the window and jumped up and down, "Little John! Little Jon!" He called out his name and whistled loudly until he said the familiar small brown head peaked up, the young boy looked all around him searching for where his name was coming from.

"Down here, you idiot!" Little Jon frowned but looked down at the ground until he saw the underground cell, a boy's hands grasping the bars and signaling him to come,

"Robin! Where have you been and what are you doing in there?" Little John asked innocently a curious expression covered his features as he sat down next to the window of his cell.

Robin rolled his blue eyes, "Oh, I'm having a party. What do you think I'm doing here?! I got caught stealing!"

"Why were you stealing, stealing is wrong." Little Jon repeated what his parents told him over and over again, he was still too young to question, so he accepted the statement as infallible law.

Robin's eyebrows furrowed and a look that was too stern for his age crossed over his features. "It's wrong that the queen and king and all the nobles get everything while we are left with nothing…" Robin paused, his younger friend was looking blankly back at him clearly confused, too young and too innocent to understand or sympathize with Robin's plight so the older boy changed the subject with something he'd been curious about since he saw all the townspeople gathering outside, "What is everyone here for?"

"To see the queen and king, of course!" Little Jon replied enthusiastically, almost jumping up and down in his seat.

Robin merely frowned and shook his head. What did the king and the queen ever do for him or his family, that he should be happy and feel honored that they were gracing the town with their mere presence? Until a wicked idea crossed Robin's mind as he looked down at the muddy floor of his cell and grinned deviously.

"Good, maybe I can practice my aim," Robin said as he leaned down and grabbed a fist full of mud in his hands he turned it into a sturdy ball, ready to aim and splatter some unfortunate face with.

Even at Robin's young age his aim impressive, his father bragged that one day he would be a great mark smith, his father a carpenter used whatever wood he had left to make bows and arrow for Robin to practice with outside their cottage. And the young boy spent many days practicing at trees, until he got good enough to practice with moving targets, so his sister would throw random things in the air and clapped happily when Robin's arrows hit it's targets. Now Robin could surpass his father's shooting and many more many gown adults. But he still possessed the forethought of a young reckless boy that he was. He only smiled as he thought of ruining the queen's splendid gown ruined, the king's face splattered with mud.

"Robin, you can't do that!"

"Why not?" Robin asked not bothering to look up, as he gathered more mud to toss. The young boy was brash, unafraid and most of all lucky, besides getting thrown into the jail cell (which taught him nothing except not to let himself get caught next time) he had gotten away with every mischievous deed he had ever committed. So it didn't occur to Robin that there may be harsh consequences for his actions.

"The king and queen aren't that bad and the princess is supposed to be the fairest of them all!"

"A little mud won't hurt her then." Robin replied winking at him mischievously.

Robin and Little Jon waited until the crowd grew silent and the knights surrounding the royal family came into sight, Robin clumped the mud in his hands ready to take aim when his heart stopped.

The princess was indeed very lovely, even more so than his friend had said, she was beautiful. She was the most poised and elegant creature he had ever witnessed. Instead of bowing her head respectably down as she went by, she tilted her head up proudly as she floated gracefully above the heads of all the peasants. She had a fair, unblemished flawless face, dark eyes, dark eyelashes and a rosy mouth. Her hair was worn in long dark perfect ringlets cascaded against her cream colored gown laced with precious pearls and glittering diamonds, that matched her silver tiara, she floated on a bed rich silk, four tall guards carried her adorned in silver armor by holding a bar on each side of the bed.

Robin could feel his heart thumping against his chest as he stared at the little princess waving gracefully at the crowd surrounding her, smiling as the townspeople threw flowers at her, petals landing on her, and her family as she went even notice the mud falling from his hand.

Whenever his mom would tell him fables of knights rescuing princesses he'd scoff and feel thoroughly disgusted, but now he wondered if what those knights felt for those ladies in those stories is what he was now feeling? Was this love? Is this princess his true love?

"Pretty, ain't she?" Little Jon asked, "Robin? Robin? Robin!"

"What?" Ronin snapped almost like he just stepped out a trance, he looked around almost desperately for another glimpse of the princess, but he was bitterly disappointed when he saw the streets were vacant and the princess was long gone.

"What's her name?" Robin asked his friend urgently, for some reason, he felt like he had to know it right then at that very moment.

"Princess Regina."

"Regina," Robin repeated the name slowly, testing it on his lips, and decided that he liked the name very much.

"Why do you wanna know?" Little Jon enquired.

"I need to know my future wife's name." Robin replied casually shrugging his shoulders as if his outrageous statement was not of any importance, it would just happen like the coming of the tide, the sun rise and the sun set.

"Wife?!" His friend repeated shocked his brown eyes wide as saucers and slack jawed, "Robin, she's the future queen you can't have her!"

"Says who?"

"Everyone! Future Queens do not marry peasant boys, everyone knows that."

Robin scowled. Why, why couldn't he have her? Robin knew he was the best, the best archer in his whole town! He knew he was smarter and more skilled than any prince out there. Why couldn't she marry him? Because his daddy wasn't a king? Because he was poor? It wasn't fair! He loved her! And now some idiot with a crown would take her from him before he ever got a chance to properly meet her? Resentment and jealousy consumed Robin like never before. Before he just felt spited and angry, now he felt something much more powerful drive. Along with it came a whole new emotion, determination.

"I will. I will become the best archer in the whole land. I will become the greatest knight and if that still isn't enough, I'll steal all the noble's riches and become the wealthiest man in the kingdom, then she will have to marry me." Robin said with certainty, call it fate or call it faith, but Robin always sensed that he was destined for great things, he wasn't sure what yet, but he had no doubt in himself that he would some day become a legend.

Little Jon merely stared at his older friend wide eyed, He's went mad.

"Now," Robin replied not missing a beat, like the whole issue was settled, "Get me a something to break these bars down and get me out of here."