Christmas Musings

It was Christmas Eve night, and a moonless one at that. Gwen sat in the straight-backed chair, staring out the small arrow-slit of a window. Christmas was one of her favorite times of the year. She loved hearing about the birth of Jesus, the three wise men, and of the Virgin Mary's joy. She loved the feeling of peace and togetherness in the air. But something was missing this Christmas.

She missed the gang. She missed Djaq- her friend, the only link to the world of women she'd had left. She missed Allan- yes, he had accused her of killing their mother, but she missed him all the same. She missed Robin, Much, John. But most of all, she missed Will.

The very thought of the way she'd left him last made her flush with embarrassment. Even now, she considered, I could have been in his arms, sitting around the fire with the others, looking forward to a Christmas morning spent entirely in his company.

What was Will doing now? What was he thinking? Did, perhaps, the intensity of which she was thinking of him, make him aware of the fact that she missed him? Was he thinking about her? Or was he distracted by the revelry that surely must be everywhere this night?

She heard the bell that heralded ten o'clock. Time for mass, she told herself. She wasn't eager to leave her perch. She didn't want to leave the window, outside which snow was gently falling. She didn't feel like pulling herself out of her melancholy reverie. But that couldn't be helped. She rose quietly to her feet and, before beating the familiar path to the chapel, she looked out the window a last time, and whispered, 'Merry Christmas, Will.'

Will sat quietly alongside the others in the cave. The crackling flames in front of him threw a dancing light over the cave walls. Allan was telling one of his famous anecdotes, to which Robin, Much, John, and Djaq were all laughing heartily. But he wasn't listening to Allan.

He rose to his feet, and everyone turned their heads to watch him. 'Just taking a walk,' he muttered in explanation. And with that he left the cave.

Breaking into the crisp, cold night air, he let out a sigh. Snow was falling all around him, covering the forest with a powdery finish. He took only the slightest pleasure in the serenity of the scene.

Will had been looking forward to Christmas ever since summer had come to a close. He remembered Christmases past, when Robin had been the lord of Locksley. When things were different. When England hadn't caved in upon itself. Though holidays had since become less jovial, they were still wonderful times in the year. But this Christmas... this Christmas was going to be a lot different.

He felt like an idiot for admitting it to himself, but he missed Gwen. Terribly. He could tell that everyone else was experiencing a similar feeling of loss. Allan, for instance, could be seen staring into the fire with a sad, resigned look on his face more often than usual. Djaq was a great deal less cheerful, after losing her confidante. Robin openly lamented losing one of his best fighters. Much, though he tried not to show it, missed having someone to look on as a little sister. John... well, that was harder to tell. He was usually a great deal less exuberant than the rest of them, but you could tell, when someone mentioned Gwen's name, he missed the girl- he had clearly started to feel like an uncle to her. But no one, he knew, missed Gwen as much as he did.

I wonder what Gwen is doing now, he thought. Where was she? Will had no idea where she would have gone. She had told him herself that she didn't want to go back to Rochdale. Where would she have gone? What is she thinking now? He wondered. He hoped that she was thinking about him. Oh, how he wanted her to come back!

'Oy!' Allan called from behind him. 'Will!' Stew's ready.' When Will didn't respond, he walked up to him. One look at Will's faraway expression told him what he was thinking. 'You miss her, don't you?'

After a moment, in which he seemed to be considering his answer, Will nodded.

Allan smiled slowly. 'Then say something.'

'Beg pardon?' Will questioned, looking at Allan in puzzlement.

'Say something you'd want to say to her,' he explained. 'Maybe she won't hear you, but you'll feel better for it.'

Will fixed him with a disbelieving look.

'Trust me,' Allan said, patting Will on the shoulder. He turned away and walked back into the cave.

Deciding to give it a go, Will sighed and whispered, 'I miss you, Gwen. Merry Christmas; I love you.'

Allan was right, Will realized, walking back to the cave. It does feel slightly better.

'Magnificat anima mea Dominum,' the nuns chanted in Latin. 'Et exsultavit spiritus meus in Deo salutary meo.'

Gwen softly chanted along, reading from a sheaf of parchment on which Mother Evangeline had written the lyrics of the Song of Mary. 'Quia respexit humilatatem ancillae suae: ecce enim ex hoc beatam me dicent omnes...' She trailed off, dropping out of the chorus of voices as a strange feeling hit her.

She felt warm, as though standing next to a merrily dancing fire. Suddenly, she heard whispering. 'I miss you, Gwen.' She knew that voice... 'Merry Christmas.' That was... no, it couldn't be Will, could it? Yes, it was his voice. Gwen rejoiced, glad she could at least hear his voice again. 'I love you.' Her heart raced, she was happier than she'd been in a long time. He loves me! she thought, smiling broadly. She joined in the song again, with renewed feeling. '... misericordia ejus a progenie in progenies timentibus eum.' With all her might, she thought, 'Will, if you can hear this... I miss you, too. And I love you. And I'm sorry.'