A/N: This weekend marks one year since I posted my first story. And to celebrate, I have this. . .not celebratory at all and actually mostly depressing and somewhat confusing piece of. . . fiction.
She died?
And came back from the dead!
Sometimes I go to sleep thinking about it and my dreams find a way of changing things. Sometimes I go to sleep. . .
"Master! The alarm!"
"Hm? Where's my bow?"
"Right in front of you! Come on!"
She said something to me one night. I remember it.
"Robin. . ."
I make her voice say it again and again.
"Robin, do you know what I thought?"
Tell me.
"I have died death."
I have died death.
"This is an ambush!"
"No! No, no, you see. I am a friend of Robin Hood's!"
Robin. Robin.
"Robin? Do you know him?"
"I've never seen him before in my life. Take his money. And his clothes. And his horse. Take everything from him."
"Are, uh, are you sure?"
"Didn't I just say it?"
When I yell, they listen.
When I yell, it's quiet.
I have died death.
Yes, you have my love. Many times over. Many many times. Over and over.
"Death is dead for me."
"What you mean is you're invincible?"
"You know that's not what I meant."
Not what you meant.
I know.
"When you close your eyes and never hope to open them again. . ."
"What shall we do with his clothes?"
"Hm?"
"His clothes."
"Throw them on the fire."
"Shouldn't we give them to someone who needs them?"
". . . you no longer need to wonder about that darkness."
But I still wonder.
I close my eyes.
The cave.
I wonder.
The desert.
I wonder.
You no longer need to wonder.
About that darkness.
Sometimes I go to sleep.
Swallow a draught.
And go to sleep.
So I can feel that darkness too.
And be with you.
"Master, how can you be sleeping already? It's still light out!"
Still light.
Light out.
Still.
Still . . .