Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Robin or Guy; I have earned nothing from this endeavor save the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of a nice comment or two.
Authors Note: Written for the BBC_LAS competition at LiveJournal.
Best Served Cold
Heart pounding. Stomach churning. Feet thundering. Arms pumping.
Robin ran as fast as his legs and his lungs would allow.
Fury burned white hot in his gut. He would have his revenge. No one would rob him of it. He had to kill.
One. Last. Time.
He reached Nottinghamshire, Sherwood Forest, Locksley Village.
He knew the perfect spot.
The sun glared down, hotter than normal for England. He was glad of it. The heat reminded him of the Holy Land. Of where he'd become a husband. Where he'd become a widow. The heat kept him focused on his task.
Robin sat perched in the large oak tree, hidden amongst the leaves. His view unobstructed. He nocked an arrow and looked down its shaft. He waited. The air was still and the heat was thick. Sweat trickled into his eyes, making them sting, but he didn't blink. Before long, his whole head was wet and his skin prickled. Still he waited. Waited for the man who'd murdered his wife.
He zeroed in on the doorway to Locksley Manor—his manor. Pulling the bow string taut, he shallowed his breath. Gisborne finally appeared and Robin's heart stopped. Rage coursed through him. With barely a movement of his finger, the arrow was loosed.
Gisborne dropped to the ground.
Robin released his breath. And finally released his grief.
He slumped, sobbing for the loss of his wife, his love, his life.
~ Fin ~