Summary: Nottingham has fallen, King Richard has been captured, and Prince John will jump at his chance for the throne. Is England's fate finally out of the outlaw's hands? Hardly. It's time for Robin Hood's gang to up their game. God save the King.
Disclaimer: The starting off plot was borrowed from Simon J. Ashford as a necessary launch into this story. BBC's Robin Hood characters and plots belong to, well, BBC.
Robin Hood shouldn't have been killed at the end of season 3; here's to rectifying that.
Without further ado, some déjà vu for you all.
Common men bustled through the courtyard fulfilling orders. They were awkwardly armed and many didn't look confident. Determined, maybe, but not confident.
A battalion of farmers against Prince John's trained army. Nottingham was a stone fortress, but it wouldn't hold, especially if the King wasn't due back till a month from now. Robin rested the tip of his bow under his chin. His heart throbbed for these men. They were meant to be in their villages with their wife and children. It was a future he craved, one he wished he could provide for them, but after this battle many of those wives would be widowed and children orphaned. Perhaps there wouldn't even be widows and orphans...
"Robin," Kate panted. Robin straightened up, expecting the worse. "Guy ran off toward the dungeon- toward Isabella's cell-" She hastily brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear as her voice wavered. "After all we've done for him." Her eyes darted around the courtyard at all the condemned men, but Robin's firm hands on her shoulders brought hers back to his, interrupting her mid-speech.
"Kate! I trust him-"
"But I don't! You know I don't!" She stamped her foot in agitation and shoved his hands from her shoulders. "Remember Isabella, Robin?" Robin looked away in minor annoyance. "I warned you about her! You didn't listen to me!" She stepped around him to sternly meet his gaze.
Robin willed his impatience to evaporate. Kate didn't understand; her hatred kept her from seeing a changed man, and he couldn't blame her for that, but now wasn't the time to hold grudges. "I trust him with my life." He met her determined gaze coolly and she faltered under it, feeling slightly betrayed.
"Fine." Kate's frustration simmered below the surface. "Trust him with yours." Her voice was cold and she began to turn away. "But not theirs."
Robin sighed, reminded of all the farmers' lives once more. "Kate!" He jogged up behind her retreating figure and held her back with a hand on her forearm. "I will see into this." His determined voice reassured her. "While I am, be sure that the men have the inner walls secured." He moved past her without a response, running through the battlements toward the castle. The air was filled with apprehension and fear as he passed by the men. Little John was helping some of the sick up toward the audience room for safety and Robin realized that he was passing a small funeral of bent heads as well. Small, contained fires flickered innocently around them as reminders of the surrounding army's lethal demonstration.
Robin entered the corridor to the dungeons just as the guard stepped out of the door. The man froze as he saw his leader and double-took from the dungeon door to Robin. "Sir Guy is visiting the prisoner." He was wondering whether he had acted wisely now; Guy's raised voice could be heard through the shut door.
Robin nodded in his direction as he passed the villager. It wasn't the man's fault. "You've done fine." He swung the thick door open a foot and slipped into the dungeon without another glance. Light streamed in from a barred window at the back of the room while the cell door stood ajar with Guy's broad figure blocking the exit and obscuring the traitorous woman he spoke to. Robin stood at the doorway for a moment and then silently shut the door behind him as Isabella's voice murmured against the stone.
"... You're so good at killing defenseless females."
"You're right," Guy acknowledged solemnly. "There is too much blood on my hands already." His voice grew determined as he brought himself to his task. "Isabella, you'll find no mercy amongst the outlaws now." Guy looked down and slipped a hand to his belt. "So when the time is right..." He pushed a small auburn vial into her palm. "You might want to use this."
Isabella allowed it to fall into her hand gravely, realizing what it was. "Poison."
"Will poison really work on a creature that is already so venomous?" Robin questioned casually.
Guy tensed in surprise and turned around. "Robin," he claimed. He was at a brief loss for words, going over his actions in his mind once more, wondering if he was misguided.
Robin became basked in light as he approached the cell's bars, his eyes on Isabella. She watched him reproachfully, but her eyes had a wild glint beneath the surface.
Robin ignored her for Guy. "Your intentions are noble, but she doesn't deserve them."
"I don't do this for her, I do this for our mother," Guy insisted.
Their gazes held for a moment. "Very well," Robin conceded, understanding. He turned to the imprisoned women with feigned courtesy. "Would you like to take your drink now, Sheriff?"
Isabella narrowed her eyes and scoffed. "I'm no coward."
"Then I will have to confiscate it," he remarked cheekily.
Isabella lightened up with a soft laugh. "No mercy for the condemned I see." She sauntered to the iron bars at the front of the cell as she twirled the poison vial in her hand. "You just want to see me ripped apart... limb from limb..." Her lips were inches from his and her eyes looked up at him imploringly. "Don't you?"
"Robin, please." Guy gripped an iron bar of the doorway forcibly. "She's evil and twisted, I am aware, but through her my mother's legacy still lives."
Robin's hand reached through the bars and found Isabella's. She watched him with big eyes, the wild glint somewhere beneath. Robin kept her gaze but spoke to Gisborne. "She won't be tortured or executed unjustly, you have my word." He turned her hand over and she didn't resist as he pulled the bottle away. She was disappointed. "But she has committed wrongs and must face them." Robin looked to Guy sympathetically. "In a fair trial."
Guy released a breath and turned his gaze to an upper corner of the room, obviously doubting Robin's abilities of containing the rebels' wrath.
Robin fought for his approval. "It's not your decision, Guy." The older man looked upon him with subdued annoyance, resisting words of protest. "Nor is it mine," Robin continued. "That decision belongs to the law." He stepped up to Guy and placed the vial back in his hand. "As long as Isabella is a prisoner here, I can't allow her to have any weapons, even those against herself."
Guy glared down at the small vial and Robin continued.
"You saw how many men we're up against. If Nottingham is breached I don't want anything in her possession that can be used against our men."
Guy closed his hand around the bottle and dropped his hand to his side. "You're right," he absolved.
Isabella broke them off with an amused laugh. "You expect to die!" She strolled back to the center of the cell and Guy clanged the door shut with a scowl, seeming to believe the words himself.
Robin shot down her haughty expression with a dark look. "We will not die," he stated resolutely. "Now, I have places I need to be." He didn't cast a second glance and strode out the door; it's slam echoed.
Gisborne clipped the vial to his belt and headed out as well.
"Pathetic, brother. You go from power to being an outlaw's lapdog."
He paused with a hand on the door, annoyed as he turned his gaze onto her. "And you, Isabella, go from power to a prison cell," he bit out. "Robin left the poison with me, he left the choice to me."
Her laugh rang shrilly. "And still you follow obediently. Fool."
"No." He gave a sardonic grin, his voice hushed. "This is my choice."
She frowned. "Guy..."
"You heard Robin yourself. I have just provided you with the reassurance that your life will not suffer needlessly before your death. You should be grateful." He swung the door open and stalked out.
"Guy!" she yelled.
v-v-v-v-v
The sheriff's audience room was morphed into an explosive ready to go off. Many of the men around had shot hopes- Tuck couldn't blame them. Kate had returned in the clutches of their enemy with news that neither their King nor his army would come.
Tuck jumped down from a hefty barrel and gave it a strong pat, ready to move onto the next. Still, they were making progress; they had a fighting chance. Robin was less than pleased, though. He shook his head and released an aggravated breath, pacing past Tuck. "I can't believe this!" He flung a glass beaker against a stone wall where it shattered into bits. A couple villagers jumped at the sound and cast him apprehensive glances, to which Tuck looked upon him in disapproval.
"Robin." Tuck held his hands up cautiously, willing the outlaw to calm.
"He was heading home, Tuck!" Robin gripped his hair with his hands, still pacing. "He would have ended the Black Knights, ended Prince John's tyranny. All that we've done- all the deaths- at least it would have meant something!"
"It does mean something. It means everything!" Tuck affirmed viciously.
"And why Austria?" Robin seemed not to have heard him. His tone was calmer and he stopped his pacing to look at Tuck, slight exasperation tugging at his voice as he pondered aloud. "Leopold the fifth of Austria... They were allies at the start of the Holy War. I saw him, at Acre... I fought alongside his men!"
"Loyalties change, Robin."
Robin resentfully accepted Tuck to be right. "England... We were so close." He rubbed his temple with a palm.
"Robin, this is not over!" Tuck said sternly. "We will rescue the King." He placed a firm hand on Robin's shoulder. "We will defeat the sheriff, Nottingham will be free, and we will save the King. You forget who you are."
"Robin Hood." Robin wasn't as confident as Tuck, but he nodded and took a breath. "I'm going to check on the outside battlements." It was an excuse to get away and Tuck nodded. Robin strode past the barrels and up the stairs, nearly running into Kate as she rounded the corner from outside.
"We're holding them back," she quickly briefed him. "But we won't be able to for long. Half an hour at the most."
"I'll oversee it then."
"Wait, Robin!" She gripped his arm. "Guy, what was he up to?"
Robin sighed in exasperation. "He wasn't freeing Isabella." She threw him a dubious expression. "Trust me, Kate!"
"What was he doing then? It couldn't have been anything good, it couldn't have!"
"We don't have time for this. If we live through this, I'll explain then." He brushed past her but another voice held him back.
"Robin!" Archer yelled from below. "Isabella escaped to the tunnel!"
Kate rolled her eyes. Robin's reassurance had just collapsed like a tower of twigs.
"The tunnel," Robin murmured with widened eyes. He had completely forgotten about the tunnel. "The sheriff can use Byzantine fire to clear the tunnel-" A small explosion shook the room, sending people stumbling as they gripped the wooden railing to keep their balance. Robin gave a frustrated growl once it passed and ran down the stairs. "Tuck, you're in charge!" Kate bolted after him, dodging villagers and giant barrels as they darted through the entrance into the dark tunnels after Archer.
The three of them followed the underground corridors briskly. A distant clanging was becoming more defined the further they went in until they could witness the fighters a few yards away. Gisborne swept back parrying a blow and arced his sword through the air with a cry, bringing the blade down over Vaisey's head. Vaisey threw his sword above him with a hand pressing the flat tip of the blade up, but he was forced down to one knee in order to keep Guy's blade from reaching his head. It was now a battle of brawn... and foul play. Isabella was creeping around a stone pillar, poising a dagger above her shoulder aimed for her brother's back.
"Gisborne!" Robin jumped into the fray as he unsheathed his sword, spinning around to deflect the dagger as it came down. He grabbed Isabella's wrist with his free hand and forced her backward against the pillar. "You say you aren't a coward, yet you strike when a man's back is turned!" he hissed enraged.
Isabella kneed him in the gut and Robin grunted bent over, forcing himself backwards from her dagger as he raised his sword.
"Robin!" Kate cried alarmed. She drew her sword and rushed forward, swinging it out at Isabella in Robin's defense. Blamire reacted quickly. He swung out his blade and deflected Kate's hit while Isabella skirted around the pillar to safety. Archer twirled his dual blades expertly in his hands and dove into the quarrel, taking over Kate's fight with the captain of arms. He whirled a blade out and sent a kick to the man's stomach. Blamire deflected the blow and swept back from the kick, ducking under Robin's blade as their fights crisscrossed. Robin stepped around Blamire and whished his sword point down to parry a low hit from Vaisey. Meanwhile Guy was facing off against two of Blamire's soldiers simultaneously. He twirled his blade and disarmed one man who quickly raised his arms in surrender, but Guy gutted him the second after and turned to the second man without pause.
The disarmed sword clattered onto the dusty stone and Isabella rushed forward at the opportunity. Kate saw this and ran after her, yelling furiously as she swung her sword in a horizontal arc. Isabella grabbed the sword in time and spun around with the blade swerved upward, deflecting the blow from the floor. Their blades froze crossed as they glared at each other. Isabella slowly stood and then swiftly thrust Kate's sword aside and stabbed her own forward. Kate sidestepped with her sword's momentum and viciously swiped again with another cry.
The second soldier fell and Guy spun around, his adrenaline pumping as he searched for a new opponent.
Archer's second blade was knocked from his hand and he nimbly ducked under a sword's arc as he punched Blamire in the stomach. Guy gave a charged yell and drove forward with his blade aimed at Blamire's neck, but in a swift confusion, Guy was sweeping back from Vaisey's blade instead, suffering a shallow cut on his shoulder as Robin deflected Blamire's returned blow. Vaisey gave a toothy grin at having his fight back and viciously swung his blade, causing Guy to retreat backward as he parried blow after blow from the vengeance stricken man.
With Robin preoccupying the captain, Archer ran off to relocate his blades shining softly under the dim, dusty light. He twirled one skillfully with a smirk and sprinted back toward the captain.
Blamire stabbed his sword to Robin's gut but the outlaw warded the blow with a clang. Archer joined him and jabbed his sword toward Blamire's stomach as Robin made an attempt at his torso. Blamire swiftly whirled his sword around to deflect Archer's hit, but Robin's blade sunk in below the heart. Blamire was allowed only a moment of surprise and a choked gasp as he took a step backward before Robin grimly tugged the sword back out. The captain looked to his wound wide-eyed and sank to the floor.
With the captain down, Archer spun around with an outstretched arm over Kate's head and parried Isabella's sword point. The spirited blonde cried out as she aimed a vigorous blow above the hilt of her opponent's blade and Isabella took several paces back as the sword went flying out of her hand.
"Not bad," Archer commented.
Kate smiled and shrugged, stepping forward to hold her sword point inches from Isabella's neck, a warning expression now adorning her face.
Guy had overcome his initial surprise at his shoulder wound and was now sending Vaisey retreating backward with parrying blows. Gisborne gave an angry growl and thrust his sword forward powerfully, but Vaisey narrowed his eyes and swiftly sidestepped the blade while deflecting it with a heavy clang. He swung a fist to his traitor's head but Guy reacted instinctively and grabbed the incoming arm before it made contact.
"It's over, Vaisey!" Robin yelled.
Guy and Vaisey both paused their blows, swords outstretched cautiously. Guy released his arm roughly and stepped back as Vaisey eyed the battlefield in mild surprise. His anger flared once he saw his captain's body limp on the floor among the other causalities. "No!" Blamire had been a loyal servant, the best since Guy. Vaisey stepped backward, holding his blade in warning. "This is far from over, Hood. Far from over." He continued moving steadily backward as Isabella stepped away from Kate's blade unnoticed, using the distraction to her advantage. "This isn't a game of hiding in the forest. Oh, no," he whispered. "I have you surrounded with an army. Your pathetic rebellion is about to end permanently!" Vaisey's furious voice echoed against the stone tunnels. He abruptly pointed his blade in Guy's direction. "I will see to your end personally," he spat. Vaisey had backtracked a safe distance down the tunnel and now spun around and rushed off with Isabella darting after him.
"No!" Kate yelled in anguish as she made a couple steps forward.
"Let her be!" Robin commanded, his stress evident. "We need to defend the tunnel from invasion!"
"No," Guy intervened. "We need to use the cellars." He tilted his head toward the opposite wall and Robin took notice of the steel grated opening.
After a couple seconds the simple solution quickly realized itself in his head. "We gather everyone into the cellars... and lead them out through the tunnel once the army passes..." Robin grinned at Gisborne who smiled smugly in return. They had a chance. "This is good."
v-v-v-v-v
Bodies were cramped together uncomfortably. They were silent enough to hear a faint dripping of water as dozens of feet passed by the grated opening on the other side of the wall. Limestone dust was stirred into the air by the trampling of soldiers' feet and it took minutes for them to pass. The outlaws shifted at the front of the line once the tunnel was silenced, allowing room for Little John to squeeze through and grip the iron bars. They all gave him firm pats, murmuring positive words of support as John grit his teeth and strained his muscles. The iron groaned and hesitated before snapping out of place, and the outlaws quickly tumbled out into the tunnel, pulling the villagers out as well as they gave orders.
v-v-v-v-v
"They've all escaped. How could that happen?" Isabella asked incredulously.
The sheriff didn't respond. The soldiers were fanning out into the room while he slowly walked to the center. He was waiting for some sort of trick. Vaisey tilted his head toward a group of soldiers to his left. "You, men, head into the courtyard." The men nodded and shuffled up the stairs. Vaisey turned around and took in the room warily. Just by watching him, Isabella began to feel the suspicion rising in her as well. "Get one of these barrels open!" the sheriff ordered.
"Yes, sir." A solider reacted instantly and climbed atop a table. He used the blade of his sword to force the lid off where the wood clapped to the floor. The guard leaned forward and sniffed the barrel's contents. "Smells like... oil?"
"Oil," the sheriff murmured to himself. Vaisey stepped up to a barrel on the ground and held up a dark bottle that rested atop it, sniffing it casually himself. "Not oil..." He drew his eyes up slowly. "Byzantine..." Vaisey threw the bottle to the floor and burst forward, shoving past the soldiers. "Get out of my way!" he yelled. Guards stumbled backward either on their own accord or because the sheriff rammed them from his path. Isabella sensed the urgency, doubletook from the barrels to the sheriff and lifted her dress to run after him.
The soldiers were confused and lacked any orders. They cast each other inquiring looks but were halted by the whistling of an arrow that plunked into the wood of a barrel with a small flame.
The entire earth was hushed as the tame fire danced; the soldiers took a breath that only lasted seconds before explosions rocked the castle walls, jetting out stones and decades of dust with thunderous booms. The mighty structure began to bow down as it hailed stones and threw up plumes of smoke and dust. The castle was gradually caving in on itself when delayed explosions went off in consecutive bangs and shot out more stone, forcing the building to its knees. Robin could be seen running out under the archway of the Nottingham gates with his bow in hand. The villagers began an uproar of cheers once they saw him, grabbing each other into hugs as Robin slowed to a jog and walked amongst them. He sported a grin and held up his bow in victory. "For England!" he yelled.
"FOR ENGLAND!" They cried in unison. More shouts of joy were heard as Kate ran into his arms. The other outlaws joined in, turning it into a swaying group hug as they shouted. Guy stood off to the side with crossed arms, a twitch of a smile at his lips, but otherwise avoiding the celebrations.
"We did it! We did it!" Much yelled. The outlaws broke from their group hug but Much grabbed Robin and pulled him into another ecstatic embrace. "WE DID IT!"
Robin broke into a laugh as he stumbled backward and thumped his loyal friend on the back. Some men patted Robin on the arm in appreciation while Tuck grinned widely and shook hands with other villagers that approached him.
Little John humbly nodded to villagers as they placed grateful hands on him, and Archer stood jovially with crossed arms.
"This is your victory, loyal friends!" Robin yelled once the cheers and shouts became subdued. "We have lost great men defending Nottingham, but they died valiantly for a worthy cause. We will celebrate this win, and then we will honor their lives as they deserve." Robin locked eyes with solemn men and women who nodded before he continued on a heavier note. "But this is not over. King Richard will not be returning to England as we would've hoped, and Prince John will hear of this battle and he will be angered by it." Robin paced past the group of villagers as he continued. "He will be angered, but it is nothing compared to the anger you house for the injustice that he has caused!" A few shouts of approval rang into the air. "My friends, your fight here does not end, and neither does ours. Go back to your homes and villages, comfort your families and mourn your losses, but be prepared. Until King Richard is back on English soil, England cannot be at peace."
v-v-v-v-v
They were back in the forest among barren trees and full ones. Moist brown leaves covered the forest floor, indicating the wintry season it was with cold breezes. It was nearing nightfall and they were back at the outlaw camp. Much had two rabbits on a spit over a fire and was turning them over slowly while the rich, smoky smell of their meal wafted over the area and taunted the outlaws' stomachs. While they had rejoiced over their victory at the collapse of Nottingham hours before, many of them were now somber. Robin was lying on his bunk dejectedly, staring upward and brooding. Little John, Kate and Tuck were seated around the fire of the cooking pit as they stared into the flames, and Archer wasn't far off, using a small dagger to carve a thin piece of wood into an arrow. Guy seemed least affected of them all, propped up against an oak tree as he polished his sword for something to do.
Much held a frown as he cooked their meal. He periodically looked up to check on Robin, but his former master was unmoving, a never ending frown adorning his features. Much was as devastated as everyone else over the King's hostage, but seeing how it affected Robin made it even worse. "The food is ready," he chimed. He tore off the back section of a rabbit and plopped it onto a plate.
The outlaws stirred from their thoughts at the noise and Archer and Guy dropped their tasks to join the others at the fire. Robin, however, stayed put.
Much handed the first plate to Kate, his eyes returning to Robin. "Thanks." She accepted the plate with a neutral expression and tore off the leg solemnly.
Little John nodded as he took his share and Tuck released a breath as he was given his.
Much paused in his hand-outs. "Robin," he stated. "Food is ready."
"I'm not hungry."
The outlaw still hadn't moved and Much felt his stomach twist in agony. "You must eat, master."
He was met with silence before Robin spoke reflectively. "Perhaps the King isn't eating now."
Guy rolled his eyes at Robin's theatrics while Tuck and Little John glanced up at Robin gravely. They exchanged glances, both knowing first-hand that Robin was irrational when he was upset.
"That is no reason for you not to eat," Much argued at a loss. His worry for his friend was evident.
Robin turned his head to Much, indicating he was serious with a hard tone. "No, Much, I am not hungry."
Tuck spoke up in disapproval. "Robin, do not let yourself lose strength over this. That won't help the King."
"Nothing can help the King now," he said in an even tone. "We fought a war that could not be won and then we lost our country from an old ally turned. Everything we've done and everything we've sacrificed has made no difference."
"That is not true!" Little John growled. "We've saved lives! We helped the poor and gave them better lives!"
Robin chuckled darkly to himself as he looked away. "I wish that were true."
"What do you mean, of course it's true!" Kate countered in disbelief. Robin was attacking the very fabric that kept them together.
"We gave them hopes that we can't deliver." Robin jumped down from his bed, startling some of the outlaws with his sudden movement. "I am going for a walk." He grabbed his sword off his bunk and walked out of the camp receiving no protest.
Much was open-mouthed, fighting the desire to run after him as he knew he wouldn't be wanted. Turning his frustration to the spit, he ripped off a section of rabbit, threw it onto a plate and shoved it toward Guy.
"He just needs time to cool off," Tuck claimed wisely as he tore off a piece of meat.
Much shook his head to himself in disagreement, recalling that it had taken Robin months before he was at peace with Marian's death. He wouldn't get over the King's fate quickly.
"It's useless being upset over it," Guy muttered. "Prince John was bound to take over England anyway."
"Prince John has not taken over England!" Kate's eyes flashed defiantly, but Guy merely shrugged unperturbed.
"Kate is right." Little John kept his stern gaze on his food. "There is still a chance."
"Not likely," Gisborne spat. He wasn't happy with the idea of living under a tyrant, but King Richard being rescued wasn't a feasible option.
Archer seemed to agree with Gisborne. "Two-hundred and fifty-thousand crowns. What are we going to do? Rob the other nations?" He accepted a plate from Much with a nod.
"Perhaps we can rescue the King ourselves," Tuck offered.
Guy chuckled. "That's rich."
The others didn't seem enthusiastic either.
"We're not even sure where in Austria he's being held." Much pointed out as he took a seat around the others and picked off a piece of his meat. An extra plate of food sat untouched on the log beside him.
"True," Tuck admitted deflated. His optimism was quickly running out, leaving them to continue their meal in silence. They had put all their energy into fighting for a King that would now never make it home. After all the defiance they had given Prince John, none of Robin's gang would ever be able to live in England without hiding from the law. They had staked themselves on loyalty for their King and lost. All their thoughts pointed in the same direction, England was doomed.
The fire crackled softly around the sound of bones hitting plates. Shadows of the flickering flames spewed over their faces and across the camp before they dimmed and turned into blackness amongst the trees. The sparse foliage overhead was lit faintly with thousands of tiny stars and crickets in the distance emphasized the solitude. Kate picked at her food restlessly and broke the silence. "Robin... he'll be fine, won't he?" She rubbed her arm absentmindedly. "I mean, he won't just give up."
"No," Much assured her without doubt. "He won't. If I know Robin, he'll shortly have a crazy plan to get us all killed."
"Fitting," Guy murmured. "After all, he's gotten your gang caught enough times before."
Much pursed his lips in search of a good retaliation to this but failed to come up with anything witty. "That... that is not... It was not always Robin's fault!" he finished lamely as he lifted his rabbit and tore off a bite with his teeth. "Not that you were any help," he muttered distastefully afterward.
The corners of Guy's mouth twitched upward amused. "Happy memories."
v-v-v-v-v
About half an hour later Robin strode back into the camp, confidence in his steps. "We go to London." His voice startled many of them. "Tomorrow." He unclasped his sword from his belt and tossed it toward his bunk.
"London? Why London?" Kate questioned in surprise as she stood up. The rest of the group matched her confusion; they couldn't see into Robin's brooding mind and his sudden conviction made no sense to them.
"Tomorrow?" Little John clenched his fist with a scowl. "Robin, the people! The funerals!"
"King Richard," Robin raised his voice. "Is being held hostage, John! We can't waste any time!"
"And what, exactly, do you propose we do?" Guy sarcastically bit out.
"I don't expect anything of you," Robin hissed in a low tone. "Your idea of a solution is murdering the King, murdering his defenders."
Guy jumped to his feet and unsheathed his sword but only scraped it out halfway before Tuck grabbed his arm to calm him. "I have no interest in murdering the King." He thrust his sword back into its sheath, regaining his composure with difficulty.
"Lovely, now that he's hostage," Robin airily replied as he walked past the group.
Guy's glare would have murdered if looks could kill.
"You still haven't said why London," Archer probed.
Robin turned back to them and spoke self-assured. "London is where Prince John is. London is where we'll find information of treachery."
"If there is any treachery," Tuck added boldly.
"This is Prince John! Of course there's treachery!"
"Robin..." Kate began carefully. "We all want King Richard back on the throne." Robin looked up into the towering trees darkly, clearly exasperated by what he knew was coming. "But what if the Duke really just wants the ransom money? That could be all there is to it. We don't know where King Richard's being held and we can't afford the ransom. What else can we do?"
"We can go to London and discover what scheme his traitorous brother has dealt."
Little John sighed as he gazed around at his friends. "I agree with Robin," he said heavily after a moment.
"As do I," Much stated assertively without pause. The other outlaws glanced at him without surprise.
Guy resented his agreement but spoke up anyway. "After dealing with Prince John myself, it wouldn't surprise me if foul play was involved."
Robin bit back an insult that had flung to the tip of his tongue and nodded instead. "London then. Each of you has the choice to stay or come."
"But tomorrow, Robin?" Tuck set his plate aside and stood. "Without planning? Without thinking?"
"We go tomorrow." He was unyielding. "I suggest you rest."
Tuck released a heavy sigh and looked upon him with grave eyes. "Very well." He nodded to Robin as he passed and left for his bunk, Archer and Kate following silently after.
Gisborne hesitated for a moment, then left the fireside as well. He deliberately ignored Robin as he walked past, but Robin was indifferent.
"Robin..." Little John tried once more. "We have just left the people with nothing. We can't abandon them now."
"We have to." The older man's weighty expression caused Robin to exhale a deep breath. He crossed the camp and sat on a log near the fire, clasping his hands together over his knees. "I care for those people, I do, John. Once Prince John hears of what has happened... I fear he'll punish them, perhaps by razing what's left of their villages to the ground, their families as well." The fire danced in the dark pupils of Little John's eyes as he thought this over. "King Richard is the last hope for this land and I intend to see him back on the throne."
Little John looked back to Robin's determined expression and released a drawn out breath. He clapped his hands on his knees and stood, nodding firmly. "We go to London."
Much had been gathering the plates left out by the outlaws, glancing at the two as they talked. He set these aside once John left for bed and grabbed the plate of food he had saved for his friend. He bravely walked up to Robin's side. "You may not care for your stomach's needs, but I do, master." He held out the plate and Robin received it compliantly, surprised at discovering it was still warm.
"You did not have to." He knew the depths of Much's friendship, but tended to be surprised by it at times just the same.
Much shrugged with an airy laugh. "Hey, if you die of hunger, who will everyone blame? The cook!"
Robin smiled, but it was a shadow. He wasn't in the mood to be softened by his friend.
Much grabbed another plate off the ground and tossed it atop the stack with a clank. He glanced at Robin to be sure he was eating before shifting uncomfortably. "I'll, uh, I'll get to sleep now."
Robin merely nodded his recognition as he tore a piece of meat from the bone with his hands.
There we are. The beginning of the former end and the end of mirroring the end. Everything that happened in the final episode still happened, except for the things I mended above of course.
Anyway! If you've made it this far, then you've made my day; thanks for reading.