Disclaimer: This is most certainly not mine. It belongs to Tiger Aspect, Foz Allan, and Dominic Minghella.
This is a flashfic (longer than a drabble, not really a oneshot) I wrote about a year ago while rewatching Parenthood. I found it sitting on my flash drive when I was digging through stuff. The dialogue is from the scene where Marian sews up Robin's arm, but I tried to give a little insight into her mindset and just a glimpse of the scars Robin left on Marian when he went away to fight in the Crusade. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it - don't forget to review!
The instant she saw the scar, Marian realized how wrong she had been. She had berated Robin for never allowing himself to feel – for never allowing himself to hurt. But she was wrong. She had been very wrong.
She could not help look at it until Robin moved his arm between her gaze and the twisted scar.
"Saracen attack on the king…caught us unawares. To this day, I do not know how," he said. Their eyes met for a brief moment.
"Is this why you returned?" She could not help but ask. There was a momentary ache in her chest. He had not returned for her. She had begun to hope that he might have. That he had grown tired of the horrors of war in the Holy Land and had finally set his priorities straight.
"The stitching became infected. I took a fever, and when I woke, the king had gone south and left orders for me to return to fully recover." Of course.
Did that mean that he would go back when he was able to? Would he abandon the people he claimed to care so much about once again?
He would want to go back. She knew he would. Robin was loyal to King Richard in every way. He would go wherever the king told him to go without asking a single question. He was a soldier – unquestioningly loyal to his commander.
"So you return and take instantly to the woods," she commented, dabbing at his wounded arm. He flinched away and winced.
Whatever pain he received from this was what he deserved. It had been stupid of him to waste arrows and stop paying attention.