Darkness is a concept little understood by many people. They see it as the time after night has fallen, a blackness that lifts when the dawn comes or a candle burns to bring back light. They see darkness as something that is easily countered, something that will end if only they wait long enough. Some see darkness as a thing to be feared, while others embrace it.
None of them truly understand darkness, but Robin does.
Darkness is his life now. It is not a darkness that leaves as night falls away; his darkness lingers when the sun rises to warm the world. He cannot feel the sun's warmth, cannot see the beauty it illuminates upon the earth. Not any more. Not ever again.
Darkness consumes him. His heart is dark, as dark as his clothes, as dark as the man that sent him into this living hell. A foul storm rages within him, an unstoppable rage of fury, as strong and unyielding as the very foundations of the earth. This is hatred, this is a demon that will stop at nothing to have its revenge. This will never go away.
He cannot remember a time when his life was not like this. He knows that once, long ago before the war, his life was happy and easy - but he cannot recall memories from such a time. It is history, he knows that, but a history that seems to him a fairytale fit for the ears of children alone; events too wonderful, too pure and beautiful to have ever been real. There was never really a time without this anger, this darkness. There cannot have been.
But then he stops, he thinks, and he remembers. Remembers what he has been trying for so long to forget.
He remembers her.
Remembers her face, her warmth, her touch. Her voice, her soft words of comfort in the night. Her strength, her courage, and above all else he remembers how many times she whispered those precious words to him when all the world seemed an unfriendly place.
I love you, Robin. Now and forever, I love you.
He remembers her love for him, and the love he held for her. He remembers how beautiful she was, how beautiful life itself was whenever he thought of her. He remembers being happy.
She was his light in the darkness, his guardian angel, the one person who would stand by him when all others abandoned hope. She was the one who knew his mind without speaking, who knew when he needed a hand to hold, who never laughed if he needed help. She knew him, she knew everything about him. She had seen the good and the bad, the light and the dark within, and she stayed. She never once tried to leave. And for that, he had sworn he would love her forever.
'Till death do us part, that was what they had both said. 'Till death do us part. Death had parted them now, and that one shining light in the dark had been quenched. All that remained was the intolerable rage, all link to peace severed. Burning, boiling, bubbling anger, relentless as the sea, each new day strengthening it and now it would never be stopped. Never.
But he had once said he would never stop loving her, that he would love her beyond death and beyond even the ending of the world.
He could not be a soul forever torn in two, he could not love her and yet be filled with hatred for the world.
He had to let one go, had to forget about either the love or the hate.
And the only thing worse than remembering her was forgetting her.
So though he knows he will never see her again, he rekindles that flame in the darkness of his heart. It is a sad fire, feeble and lonely, and it weeps for all that has been lost, and all that will never be recovered. But a single light in the darkness shines more brightly than a thousand in the light, and this flame will never again be allowed to perish. He will tend to it, keep it burning forever more, and he will never forget what he has lost.
She asked him to fight for her, that day as she lay dying in his arms. Fight for me, she said. Fight for me.
And he would. In her name, Robin would save the world. He would bring light to England, save it from the darkness, just as she saved him. In her name.