Those five years without him had been perfectly unbearable. No one seemed to realize that although she had only been a mere sixteen at the time he had left, she had loved, and still did for that matter, Robin of Locksley.
Loved with her whole self.
And, it wasn't that silly "puppy love" older folks assumed was all young people could feel. What she felt for Robin was real, actual, love.
Then, he left. He let her standing in her front entryway, silent tears streaming as he rode away to the Holy Hand. What an utter fool he was. Yet, her very heart ached for him all the same. She stood staring after him, even though he was no longer in her vision of sight, until her father finally got her to bed. She laid there still feeling as though she was still standing, staring after the fading figure of Robin.
Robin Hood; who was her very best friend. Her own childhood sweetheart.
Her love.
Hers.