A/N: This is a story I wrote for my English class, the assignment was to write a dialogue driven story. I hate to admit that this is probably one of the weaker stories I have written in quite a while, but I have never tried to write a story so heavy in dialogue before. I like the idea, but if anyone has any ideas for me on how to strengthen the story, that would be especially appreciated. All criticism is welcomed though.

Disclaimer: We interrupt this story to bring you breaking news: Contrary to popular fantasy, no one on this site owns Robin Hood. Unfortunately I must include myself among those numbered here. We now return to your regular scheduled fan fiction.

They were sitting together under the old oak tree. It was a place that was usually filled with boundless joy, Harvest Festival games were held here; as children they had climbed its boughs; in may and at weddings, its braches were decorated with ribbons and flowers. Today though, all those simple joys felt miles away.

"When do you leave?" she asked him.

"Tomorrow at sunrise." he answered solemnly. Every time they met since he had told her he must leave she would ask him the same thing. More out of needing to be reassured of the time they had left, then because she had forgotten the date. It was a sick sort of countdown, but still she asked. Then there would be silence and as soon as someone thought of another topic, no more would be said on the matter. This could very well be the last time she ever saw him, already the sun was starting to set, so this time she continued.

"Why so soon?" she tried he hardest to stay neutral.

"It was not my idea."

"What if I asked you to stay?"

"Marion, you already know what would happen. Just as I know that you would never ask."

"I might. I might ask you right now to stay and you would."

"I would." he agreed, "but you haven't asked. And never will, not even now. Because you know as well as I do that I must go."

Silence hung between them like an unwelcome guest. Then mostly because she could not stand the silence when they had such little time left, she asked the question that she had been too afraid to ask before.

"Would it really be so terrible if you stayed? With me?" the end of her question was almost inaudible, but he heard it anyway.

"No. It would be wonderful, but neither of us would be happy. Even if I did not go, I could not stay here."

"Because you would be a deserter?"

"Yes."

"So I lose you no matter what."

"Yes."

"I hate King and Country!" her voice was laced with venomous disappointment. It was the voice of one who refused to accept fate and then, suddenly was forced to admit they were trapped. He laughed at her pouting face, but it was bitter laugh, filled with sorrow.

"Do not let the King hear you say such things."

"I know. I know how to play at politics better then you because you never could sit still long enough to pay attention."

"That is what I have you for." Then there was silence again for a moment as neither of them could think of what to say. This time he broke it.

"Why do you refuse to accept what we both already know? I must go and neither of us have any choice. At least if I go, I will receive glory and honor and return to you as a hero. A soldier in the King's guard." His voice was gentle, but near the end he started to get excited. He was too young to know that a battlefield is not the place to find glory and honor.

"Everything we do is a choice! If you go, you will not return."

"Yes I will. I will become a hero and then I will return and we will be married.

"If you go you will die! You will return in a box if you return at all!"

"I will return. Alive and well, I will return. You will see. I promise. I love you."

She said nothing. She loved him too, but could not believe him. For all his skill in weapons and warfare, he was young and cocky with little true experience. How could he possibly survive when so many others had not? He would be killed; she knew it in the very depths of her soul. As much as he loved her, he still loved glory and honor more. And there was nothing she could do about it.

The next day he left. It was sunrise, just as he promised. As he rode away, she could only hope that his other promises would be fulfilled as well.