Look who didn't take a million years to post a new story!

A few things before we get going: this has nothing to do with We are Robin Hood. Sorry. I know I said I might write a few outtakes -and I still intend to, maybe-, but this is not it. This is just a little story that came to me while I was working on something else entirely -how typically me. Both chapters are already written and will be posted in due time, but I'm toying with the idea of adding a third -I don't know yet. It will depend on a number of things.

Oh, one more thing! I'm really terrible with titles, so I burrowed this from a song by One Republic. The fic is not inspired by it, but as I was re-listening to it paying attention to the lyrics I realized that it kinda sorta works. There, in case you were wondering.

Declaimer: do I really need to tell you I don't own Robin Hood? Okay, fine: I don't own Robin Hood. Happy now?

COME HOME

Chapter I.

It was a beautiful day in Nottingham. The sun was shining up in the sky, but there was a faint scent of rain still lingering from the day before. It wasn't too cold, though the winter was already in full swing, and a few birds could even be heard chirping nearby.

Marian and her father had just attended the Council of Nobles and had decided to visit the market before going back to Knighton Hall. She walked slightly ahead of him, examining the different shops and he was content just watching her. She looked relaxed, happy. Of course he knew better. Marian hadn't been truly happy in over four years, though she seemed to have achieved something akin peace of mind after a while. In fact, nowadays few people would be able to tell the heartbreak she had been through just by looking at her. But he could –he was her father, after all, and it wasn't as if the feeling was foreign to him; he too had loved and lost once, so he knew what it was like to have one's heart ripped from their chest and shattered into a million little pieces.

Losing Katherine had been the hardest thing that had ever happened to Edward, but he could at least draw some comfort from the fact that he had had her love for a few years and that she had left him with a daughter that resembled her in all the ways that mattered. Marian didn't even have that. The man she loved had left her before their wedding -she had intended to give herself to him -body and soul- and he had rejected her. He had chosen glory over her and Marian had never been able to truly come back from that.

The first year or so had been the hardest, Edward recalled. She had walked around as a ghost, completely oblivious to anything and everything that went on around her except for when a word that sounded remotely similar to his name was uttered in a conversation. She would wake up then, look around herself as if she expected him to show up from just around the corner and it would be as if she lost him all over again. Her father had caught her crying more often than either of them would care to admit and it had broken his heart a little more each time.

But then... She got better. Edward couldn't tell how or when or even why, but suddenly he realized that his little girl was back –or at least a little bit of her was. She was more lively, more alert. She would join him in his frequent trips to the castle, she would make small talk with the other ladies when it was required. She even returned to Locksley and struck some sort of friendship with its new lord. His name no longer made her tremble and there were no more tears in her eyes.

And still, Edward knew, something was missing. She was not the same girl -she would never be the same girl.

That's why he enjoyed watching her when she was like this. It was the closest she would ever get to being the young, carefree girl she had once been.

The sound of someone calling his name pulled him from his thoughts and made him turn around. Marian, too, turned to see who it was -she had always been very protective of her father.

There was a man walking in their direction, his left leg limping slightly. He was short and plump and was smiling kindly at the both of them. It was a few moments before Edward could reconcile his face with that of an old friend he hadn't seen in many years.

"William," he cried with delight. "Whatever are you doing here?"

The man didn't reply at first, busy as he was enveloping his friend in a tight hug.

"I thought that was you," he said at last. "You've gotten old, my old friend."

Edward smiled more broadly –that was William, alright. "I don't look older than you. Or fatter."

"True, true," William acknowledged. "The years have not been any kinder to me."

Marian watched them with mild amusement. It wasn't everyday that her father ran into an old friend, so rarely had she been treated to this side of him. It was fun.

"And who is this lovely lady we have here?" William asked, suddenly noticing her.

"My daughter," Edward explained. "Marian."

"Marian? Good God in heaven, I haven't seen you since you were a baby!" He took the hand Marian was offering him and placed a kiss on her palm. "She looks just like Kate," he added to her father.

"Lucky her." Both men laughed loudly at that. "Marian, you remember that story I used to tell you when you were young about the time I got lost in the forest while I was chasing a goat?"

Marian nodded. She loved that story. Her father had used to tell it to her often, trying to get her away from Sherwood. It had never worked out -if anything, it had made her all the more determined to explore it-, but she had really enjoyed listening to him.

"Well, William here was the one who persuaded me to chase the damned beast."

"I resent that! I may have suggested it, but you didn't need to do it."

"You dared me to do it."

"Edward, I was always daring you to do things and most of the times time you sent me on my way. Admit it, the only reason why you agreed to go after that particular goat was because..."

"Okay, I think that's enough for now. What are you doing in Nottingham anyway?"

Marian didn't miss how uncomfortable he suddenly looked, nor the faint pink glow that was now gracing his cheeks.

"Why did he agree to go after that goat?" she asked William.

The man's grin grew wider.

"He didn't tell you? For shame, Edward." He wrapped one of his arms around Marian's shoulders, bended their heads together and talked in a not-so-low whisper. "You see, Marian, it wasn't so much about the goat itself, rather than the house it had escaped from."

She gave both of them a puzzled look.

"It was your mother's," Edward finally admitted, looking everywhere but at her. He had always omitted this particular piece of intelligence, not wishing to appear in her daughter's eyes like a foolish kid who had let his hormones get the better of him. She had already had enough of that in her life and the last thing he had wanted was for her to compare him in her mind to the boy who was currently letting his hormones get the better of him for her sake. "She had lost it and William convinced me that if I could bring it back to her she would see me in a whole new light. Bear in mind that I was but12 years old then and didn't know any better..."

"You were lost in the forest for two days because you were trying to impress a girl?" she asked, unable to hide her laughter.

"He did," William confirmed. And suddenly they were laughing, hard, and if Edward hadn't been so pleased to hear such a sound coming from his daughter's lips after so long he might have taken offence at them.

"Happy now?" he asked William, in what he had meant as a hard tone, though he too was smiling.

"Very."

Marian went back to her shopping then, allowing them some privacy. She was sure she would be seeing William again very soon, for which she was glad. She liked him already.

Sure enough, a few minutes later her father called her over to inform her that his friend would be joining them for supper that evening. They said their goodbyes and parted ways.

Once in their carriage, Edward appeared to be deep in thought.

"William seems nice," Marian said suddenly, eager to break the silence.

"He is," Edward agreed. "It was a surprise to find him in Nottingham -a lovely surprise."

Ever since moving to Nottinghamshire shortly after Kate's death, he had lost touch with most of his childhood friends. He had never cared too much, content with the life he had made for himself and his daughter. However, he had to admit, running into William had been surprisingly enjoyable. He had never realized how much he had missed him. The only problem was that his friend had always been prone to getting him in trouble, and although he was determined that he would not be chasing after any sort of animal any time soon, there was a certain uneasiness he couldn't completely shake off.

Back at the house, Marian embraced her role as lady of the manor and made sure everything was perfect by the time William knocked on their door. Watching her talking to their cook, it suddenly dawn on Edward that it had been selfish of him to invite William before checking with her.

"Don't worry," she said dismissively. "I don't mind. And it's been so long since someone's visited us..." As a matter of fact, ever since Gisborne had come down with the flu she couldn't remember the last time someone had paid them a call.

William was punctual. He and Edward were soon deep in conversation, the former filling his friend into the life of those he had left behind in his home town while his host listened attentively. Marian let them be, grateful for the opportunity to be left alone with her thoughts.

Edward may be clueless as to why this new Marian had suddenly risen from the ashes of her former self, but it was pretty clear in her mind. About two years ago, a certain illness had spread around Nottingham -a simple flu, nothing that couldn't be easily treated. Marian herself had fallen ill for a few days. A week later, her cook hadn't gone to work one day. She had asked the physician that still visited her if he knew anything about it. He had told her that Sarah's daughter was seriously ill. So, that night, she had climbed on her horse and rode into Nottingham to visit and take what was leftover her medicine. The girl had looked at her with such shock that it had made her wonder what the big deal was. And then she had realized that Nottingham had been going to pieces while she had been too selfish to notice.

Something had snapped into place then –she realized she could go to war too, a war far more important than that raging in the Holy Land. She would fight against poverty and injustice; she would fight for those no one fought for. So she had closed the door on her past -buried his memory as deep as she was certain his body must already be buried- and focused her attention on what really mattered: the present; Nottingham's present. She resolved to help out whatever way she could, so by day she collected food and medicines and whatever gold she could find, and by night she rode around the shire lending a helping hand. They even gave her a name, and she couldn't help but smile every time she heard it whispered around the town.

She never told anyone any of this, knowing that no one would understand her need to take a more proactive stance against injustice. She had never had many friends, and her father would only worry if he were to learn about the Nightwatchman. Worried and horrified. Such was not the proper behaviour for a lady, he would say.

But the thing was -Marian had never been fond of ladylike behaviour. Sure, she could certainly act the part when it was required, but that was not who she was on the inside.

One man alone knew this -knew her real self. He had been the one who taught her to fight and to shoot; with him she had first explored Sherwood; he had never minded when she rode her horse like a man and he had even occasionally lend her some of his clothes so that her father wouldn't get suspicious if her dresses got dirty or even torn. He had never asked her to act like a lady and she had never felt the need to hide from him. When he had asked her to marry him, he knew that she would never be the perfect wife; he said he didn't want the perfect wife -he wanted her.

He had been her best friend, and she had loved him more than she had thought possible. She had given him her heart and her hand. She would have given him much more, if only he had asked.

But he never did. He didn't even want what was already his.

He gave back her hand, but he took her heart when he left -Marian wouldn't have it any other way.

She had grown over him, she really had. Four years he had been gone and she was certain he was not coming back. She understood this; she had accepted this.

But she still missed him. A lot.

When she was the Nightwatchman it was the closest she got to him -the closest she got to being his Marian again. She could feel him next to her as she rode, urging her to go faster. She could hear his laughter in the wind and see his green eyes among the trees. She could forget his idiocy for a while and pretend that everything was alright again.

She could pretend that she was complete again.

Lady by day, vigilante by night... It had worked out for a while. It had allowed her to move on while still hanging on to a tiny bit of her past; it had allowed her to live her life and also carry on a little bit of his. She had taken care of his people -not as their lady, as she had originally intended, but at least as the Nightwatchman. She knew he would be proud of her, wherever he was, and that had made it easier for her to bear with his absence.

And then Gisborne had to go and get sick.

Though she had taken care of the whole shire, she couldn't deny that she was always most comfortable in Locksley. She knew the village like the back of her hand and it was where his presence was most clear. She was always drawn to Locksley. But ever since Gisborne had been confined to the manor she had been somewhat reluctant to make an appearance, lest he happened to catch her there. So far she had only been seen a couple of times and she had no intention of upping that count for now. But she missed it, and she was starting to grow tired of waiting.

It was always hard to plan her next outing when she was alone with her father because he was always so worried when he saw her deep in thought, fearing it was the memory of a certain lord that occupied her mind. But Edward was distracted today, which in turn gave Marian a chance to be distracted herself.

She went over the plans of Locksley manor in her mind. Guy was most likely confined to the upper level of the house, which meant she should be fine, so long as she stayed on the ground floor. She also knew that most of the servants had been laid off, which would make her task easier still. If William didn't stay too long, then maybe Marian would be able to make a short visit to Locksley once Edward went to bed...

"You never told me how you came to know I was in Nottingham," Edward said suddenly, and Marian started paying more attention to their conversation. She was genuinely curious. In almost 20 years, she couldn't ever remember any of her father's friends showing up at their door.

"Oh!" William replied, swallowing a large gulp of his wine. "I almost forgot! Silly me. Another friend of yours pointed me in your direction," he said vaguely.

Edward gave him a puzzled look, so he went on.

"You remember, way back in the day, that I became known around the country for my ability with the sword, don't you?" Edward nodded. "Fought my way to the King's Private Guard," he explained to Marian, noticing he had her attention as well.

"You must have been very good," she replied politely.

"I was! The King came to rely on me." It was clear that he was very proud of this particular achievement. "I served under his command for a few years and it was undoubtedly the proudest moment of my life." he suddenly sighed and his brown eyes took on a darker shade. "And then life happened -I took a sword to my leg and it was determined I would never be able to fight again. I was lost for a while, because for so long that was who I was -a soldier! But then I met and fell in love with a wonderful woman who was fool enough to fall in love with me and gave me a son. You know -life."

He paused for a moment and Edward could feel it -the same feeling he would get when he was a little boy and William looked at him in a certain way. Dread. He had no idea what he would say, but he knew -he knew- it would get him in trouble. And yet there was nothing to be done -he could hardly make him stop now.

"About a year ago, I got a message from the King," William continued, oblivious to his friend's sudden horror. "He said he needed me and my men, since he was losing so many of his best soldiers on a daily basis. He remembered I was unfit to fight myself, but he urged me to send someone on my behalf. I did as I was told: I gathered my best men and arranged passage for them. However, when the time came, I couldn't bring myself to send them with only a note and my best wishes –it was wrong. So -after promising Mary I would not engage in any kind of fight whatsoever- I joined them and we embarked together towards the Holy Land."

And there it was -William had done it again.

Edward ventured a look in his daughter's direction, half expecting her to be hyperventilating and crying her eyes out, but like she usually did, Marian surprised him. She looked utterly unaffected, though he didn't miss how tightly she was suddenly gripping at her goblet.

What he didn't know was that behind her perfectly well placed mask, Marian was going to pieces.

Never in a million years would she have guessed that this was the direction the conversation was going to take.

She had occasionally dreamt of this moment, especially at the beginning, during that terrible first year. The moment when news from the Holy Land would finally arrive and she would know, once and for all, what had become of the only man she had ever loved. She had thought herself ready for such a moment -she already knew he was dead, surely hearing it from someone else wouldn't be so bad! As it turned out, she had apparently been wrong.

She was terrified.

Marian tried desperately to remind herself that just because William had gone to the Holy Land it didn't mean that he had had any kind of contact with him. He had probably been dead for a number of years already, way before the King had even thought of writing to his old general. There was no reason to be worried -his name had no place in this or any other conversation.

"Go on," Edward urged, his eyes never leaving his daughter. (She was determined not to look at him, fearing her face would betray her emotions, so she resolutely kept her head down and continued eating her food as if her stomach wasn't in knots).

"The King was very understanding of my situation. He thanked me for my men and also for my troubles. He even insisted I stayed for supper at their camp and urged me to talk to the new members of his Guard, so they could see there is a life after the war -he thought my presence would help keeping the morale high."

"I ended up having a very pleasant evening," William continued. "It reminded me of my old days at the King's Private Guard, while at the same time proving me how lucky I am to have been able to leave that part of my life behind. Some of the knights there were barely kids, and they've left wives and babies behind. I got to live the best of both worlds, and I really can't complain about how my life turned out."

"You still haven't answered how it is you've found me," Edward reminded his friend, noting with some alarm that Marian had grown very pale.

"I'm getting to that! Anyway, we traded stories, some about the war and some not about the war. I told them about my friend, who was lost in the forest for two days trying to impress a girl -because quite frankly it's one of the better stories in my repertoire- and we all had a good laugh."

"After supper, one of the youngest captains came to see me, and he swore he had heard that story before from the lips of a very old friend of his. He said this man used to tell him this story to prevent him from going too deep into the forest that surrounded his state and he was curious to know whether we were talking about the same man. After a very brief conversation it became very clear that we in fact shared your friendship and he seemed very pleased. Do you know who I'm talking about?"

Edward knew. Other than his daughter he had only told one other kid that story -a kid who, as it happened, used to spend almost every waking moment with Marian.

"I can only think of one young man," he said slowly, gauging Marian's reaction to each of his words. She appeared confused and troubled, but not even remotely close to the breaking point. She looked expectant, as if she needed to hear more. "Robin," he said. "Robin of Locksley."

Marian's heart -which had been beating in overdrive for the last couple of minutes- came to an abrupt halt when she heard his name again. Her father and her had a sort of unspoken agreement: they could speak of him –if they really needed to–, but they couldn't say his name. It was the one thing Marian hadn't allowed herself to do in almost four years, fearing that she wouldn't be able to handle it. She had been right, because all she wanted to do right now was bend over and cry like she hadn't cried in years. But she didn't. There were a few things she needed to clarify before she could allow herself to break down.

"The very same," William agreed, oblivious to the sudden tension both his companions were radiating. "Like I said, he looked exceptionally pleased by the fact that I knew you and he was most helpful filling me in your life of the past 20 years. He was also very insistent that I should come and see you -he said you would appreciate me coming- and urged me to give you his deepest regards. He was most charming, and in the end I found that I couldn't say no to him even if I had wanted to do so."

Marian's lip twitched slightly. She recognized what Robin had tried to do, even if William didn't.

Before he left he had promised to write regularly to her. She had told him not to bother, because he would be dead to her from the moment he left her presence. She had been lying, obviously. It had been her last attempt to hold him back -to make him stay with her. But he had believed her. He had left and she had never heard from him again.

But still, on some level he must have known -must have suspected she was bluffing. His pride had kept him from writing, but William had provided him with a unique opportunity he wasn't about to pass on.

She could hear him as if he was standing right next to her. Behind William's words, the message was clear: I'm still standing, he was telling her -not William, not Edward. It was for her -only her.

"When was this?" she heard herself ask, and she was surprised at how calmed she sounded.

The older man turned in her direction and appeared to consider his answer.

"A few months ago -two, maybe three."

She nodded in acknowledgement and continued eating her meal, all too aware of Edward's worried gaze fixed on her.

The conversation soon took a turn and William all but forgot about Robin of Locksley.

When it was time to go, Edward walked his friend to the front door and hugged him tightly. He sent his regards to his wife and promised to keep in touch. When he returned to the living area he found Marian sitting on her usual sit by the fire, busying herself with her embroidery. He watched her from the threshold for a while, wondering if they should talk about what William had told them or if he should better let her be.

Marian was not oblivious to his dilemma.

"I'm fine," she said, her eyes still averted, hoping it was enough to put an end to the subject. She didn't feel like talking about him -not here, not with her father. She needed a moment to process what she had just learned, but she had to be alone for that. Edward couldn't know how much Robin of Locksley still affected her -no one could.

The man was not fooled, but he decided to allow her this one small victory. Besides, he had to agree, he wasn't particularly excited about opening the door she had obviously closed on her former betrothed. If she thought she could handle it -well, he would take her word for it. At least for now.

"You know I'm here if you need me, don't you?" he said, needing to comfort her in some small way.

She turned her clear eyes in his direction and he was surprised at what he found when he looked into them. It was buried deep, partially hidden by a troubled look; he doubted she was even aware of it, but Marian's eyes were dancing with joy. Edward almost gasped out loud; it'd been so long since she looked like this.

"I know," she replied, shooting him a small smile. "Thank you."

She stayed with him for a while longer hoping her seemingly collected manner convinced him that she was actually all right. She finally could take no more and excused herself. She didn't miss that his eyes were following her every move, so she worked to keep her strides graceful as she climbed upstairs. Once she was safely hidden from view, she all but ran to her bedroom, locking the door behind her.

She collapsed on her bed, dressed as she was, and laid on her back for a long moment staring at the ceiling. Then she sighed and forced the words that had been dancing around her mind for the past hour to pass her lips.

"Robin is alive."

There, the words were out. She had acknowledged them. Now what?

Her breathing suddenly became shallow and it was a moment before she realized that she was laughing -really laughing. The sound was foreign in her ears since it'd been so long since she had had a reason to laugh. And yet here she was now.

She struggled to sit up on the bed and folded her legs under her. Not for a second did the laughter stop.

Robin is alive, she thought again, and she laughed harder.

For the last three years she had operated under the assumption that he was dead -it was the only way she had found she could move on. She had tried being hopeful for about a year and it had almost killed her. She couldn't live her life as if she expected Robin to be perched by her window every time that she entered the room -she just couldn't. And so she had told herself time and time again that he had died, that he was never coming back, that she had to let him go. She had tried to convince herself that he was a part of her past -she had tried and she had succeeded. Robin was dead.

But he wasn't. He hadn't been.

Robin was alive.

Some part of her mind -the part that was still thinking rationally- tried to remind herself that they didn't know anything for sure -that just because Robin had been alive two or three months ago, it didn't mean he still was. A lot could have happened in such a long period of time and there was every chance he was dead by now. But it didn't work because deep down she knew -she knew- he was still alive. He wouldn't have sent her that message if he wasn't confident he would still be alive by the time she got it.

He had survived for over four years. If he had made it for that long, then he certainly must have made it through a couple more months. And if he's made it for a couple more months, then maybe...

Her laughter stopped as she realized the direction her thoughts were turning. No, she would not go there. She would not let herself believe that Robin might be coming back. She couldn't put herself through that again -she couldn't lose him again.

She wiped the tears that had suddenly started to fall from her eyes. Stupid Marian -and stupid Robin, too. Why, oh why, did he still have this effect on her?

The answer to that was quite simple, she realized with a sigh. It was because she was in love with him -always and forever. He could go ahead and sign himself up for every stupid war, he could break her heart time and time again, he could do all the stupid things in the book. And yet the fact remained that Marian loved him -and he loved her too, she knew. He had a twisted way of showing it, but she knew. The way he treated her as kids -like his equal, not as his inferior just because she was a girl- told her he loved her; the fact that he went through great lengths to inform her he was still alive confirmed that he still did.

For a minute she allowed this knowledge -that he was still alive, that he still loved her, that he had every intention to make his way back to her- to ran freely through her veins and she relaxed visibly -relaxed in a way that she hadn't done in over four years. But then reality came crushing back to her.

Because even if he was alive, even if he did return, even if he did apologize for leaving -the fact remained that he had left, that he had broken her heart. And Marian would not -could not- sit idly by and allow herself to be walked over by a boy who had been too proud to see the error in his ways before it was too late.

And it was too late now. Robin and her -that was over. They were over.

They had to be -for her sake.

She collapsed back on her bed and she realized with some surprise that she was in fact much calmer than she had thought she would be. It had been good to think about Robin again -it had given her a chance to sort out her feelings. She was confident now that the next time she heard from him she would be prepared for everything, whether it be good news or bad news.

She was ready to move on -this time for real.

Her dreams betrayed her, though. That night, as she slept, she saw him walking up to her house, thinner than he had been, his skin darker than it had been, but still unmistakably him. She would see him from inside her house and she would run out to meet him. He would shoot her one of his signature grins and she would see his relief at finding her there. He would open her arms and she would jump into them, hanging tightly to him to prevent him from leaving her again. He would hold her tightly as she cried and once she was calmed enough he would promise her that he never would, that he loved her and that he intended to stay with her for the rest of his days, whether she wanted him to or not.

She would laugh, because he would be home. In her dream, he had come home.

Little did she now that many miles away, in a small tent in the middle of the desert, a fever-ridden Robin of Locksley was dreaming of the very same thing.

I know this is different from We are Robin Hood (though fans of my angsty side should still be pretty satisfied), and after the incredible support I got for that, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about how it's going to be received. But you know the drill: let me know what you thought, okay? Pretty please?