This is my first story so I'm still trying to work this out.

This is set after the season 2 finale, but has nothing to do with the 3rd series as I haven't seen it.

For my purposes I have made it that Will and Djaq came back to England with everyone else (they are still married).

Thankyou so much

xx

Deja-vu

Chapter One: Morning Memories

As the first of morning's light played about the leaves of Sherwood, making little patterns of luminance a hooded figure rode slowly through the once familiar paths. The hooded figure knew not how long it had ridden for or how much longer its mount could continue, but it did know that it was nearing its destination.

The hooded figure ran her delicate fingers down some hair that had escaped the disguise of the hood. With an almost melancholic sigh she pushed the offending lock back into its dark confines and set her mind to remembering the short-cut she used to ride as a young child. It was not the forest that had betrayed her memory for it had not changed, but time. The last time she had ridden through this forest was well over 5 years ago. She bit her pink lip as she tried to recall the exact occasion…

It was on her father's best horse, a roan, crop ear that she couldn't remember the name of. Had her older sister been there? Perhaps, but that memory was fuzzy and certain images were blurred out entirely. But she did remember clearly her other companions. Two young men who were friends, brothers and fathers to her…

"My name is lost, but know me as the girl who time forgot," she said half aloud, to no one in particular. Maybe to Sherwood.

To anyone else the idea would sound odd, but for Emma-Clarine, these trees held the secrets and memories of her past life and perhaps those of her future life too. She used to know every inch of these woods. Their every bend and turn, every leaf and every creature but now she felt like she was in a foreign land. She knew not whether she wanted her memory of these things returned, because inevitably with them, would come more personal memories. Memories she wished not to remember.

Emma-Clarine was startled from her thoughts by a rustle of leaves. Anyone else would either not have heard such a rustle or if they did pay no attention to it, but something in the back of her mind told her that she knew that noise well. She had gotten acquainted with it as a child when she played endless games of hide and seek with the other children. It was not the sound of the wind stirring up the carpet of leaves nor an animal's tread; but those of a human. Even after 5 years, the noises were distinctly different to her ear.

Suddenly every muscle in her body was taut and alert, she didn't want whoever was watching her to know that she knew they were there so she clucked to her horse and he fell into a steady trot. She heard shouts behind her and no longer caring to be subtle she urged her mount into a brisk canter. But still she heard the voices and the rustle of leaves. In her terror, Emma-Clarine had no idea where her horse was going and really did not care as long as she could escape the chase alive. She thought that dressing as a man would stop her from being attacked.

When she thought that she'd lost them she slowed back down to a walk and allowed her horse to wander a little while she waited for her heart to slow down too. But when she looked up at where she'd ended up she was surprised to see quite a sophisticated little camp. It looked far more refined than what she'd been told of outlaw camps. Who could it belong to?

She swung her right leg over her horse and dropped smoothly to the ground. With delicate steps she moved towards the camp. It was set up for quite a few people and was even more impressive up close. She hadn't eaten in a while and was wondering whether she might find any food around when a tingle up her spine made her freeze. The tingle you get when someone is too close within your personal space.

She felt herself grabbed from behind and as afraid as she was when she was being chased, she was even more afraid now. Emma-Clarine managed to break free, thanks to a combination of old instincts, adrenalin and the grace of God. She whipped around and struck out at her attacker with the back of her forearm, her elbow just missing his face. He was of middle-eastern appearance, not much taller than her and had quite delicate features. He struck out at her in reply but Emma managed to duck out of the way. As she struck out with another blow, Emma –Clarine had a funny feeling that maybe her attacker was not male at all but like her a female in men's clothing. She had no time to dwell on this because he/she came right back at her with a stifling kick to her knees which forced her to the ground. He/she didn't fight like a girl though. But then again, that's what most people said about her.

With the freedom of men's riding breeches, Emma delivered her foe a similar kick from the ground, giving her time to get back up and get the upper hand. Spotting a solid tree branch, Emma grabbed it and hit him/her on the head with it just enough to knock he/she out.

Panting from both exhaustion and fear she looked for her horse. But as she did this she heard the shouts that had been following her before. Although her hood restricted her vision, she could clearly make out the image of 3 men running up the hill towards her. Her options weren't good. She could run and be caught, she could fight and be caught or she could hide and hope that they gave up looking for her. Unfortunately her days of hide and seek were well and truly over, so as a precaution she grabbed a knife that was sitting by the fire and ran for the cover of trees.

Emma spotted a thicket of trees and was making her way towards them as fast as her exhausted body would carry her when an incredibly large man stepped into her path. She took a cautious step back. He took an asserted step forward.

She held out the knife as bravely as she could, but the giant either seemed not to see it or was not threatened by it. Probably the latter.

Her only choice was to walk backwards as he walked towards her, knowing full well that she was walking into the outlaws who had followed her.

Each second felt like an eternity, she was an injured rabbit just waiting for her stalking fox to catch her. After 40 or so eternities she stepped into a figure, tree-like in strength but most definitely human. The rabbit had been caught.

She began reciting the Lord's Prayer.

"Our father, who art in heaven-"

"What have we got here lads?" said a horribly familiar voice as she felt her weapon taken from her.

"Hallowed be thy name-"

"An assassin," said another familiar voice darkly.

"Thy kingdom come, thy will be done-"

"He didn't kill Djaq," said the giant reasonably. "She's just unconscious."

"On Earth as it is in Heaven-"

"What's he saying?" said a third familiar voice.

They'd all spoken now and three of them sparked hazy memories. Like a song from yesteryear. But memory was cruel and Emma-Clarine could not place the voices or the memories associated with them. Were they good people? Did she know them well? And more importantly; who were they?

"Lord's Prayer," replied the first voice who had a firm hold on her.

"A little short isn't he?" said the giant.

"Give us today our daily bread-"

"Everyone is short compared to you John," said the third voice with a smile.

"And forgive us our trespasses-"

"But I mean compared to you guys even. He can't be very old."

"As we forgive those who trespass against us-"

Her prayer was growing louder and more frantic and it blocked out what they were saying.

"Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory for ever and ever-"

"Let's have a look at him," said the first voice.

"Amen," she sighed.

Suddenly those last words registered and she knew that she couldn't let them see her face.

Frantically she broke free of her 'chains' and tore the necklace off her neck. It cut the back of her neck and she grimaced. Truthfully it was the only thing of value she had on her person; Emma threw it at them. Hopefully it would suffice them. She dropped to the ground in surrender.

Under her hood she couldn't see the figures and the face that picked up her necklace but she saw 3 pairs of legs walk over to look at the piece of jewellery.

"Who did you steal this from?" asked the first voice whose familiarity was so strong that it was nagging on her memory. But still nothing came.

"Master," said the third voice "That's – Mar- her family crest!"

Emma-Clarine froze. Who were these people that knew her sister? And why had the third voice faltered over her sister's name before replacing it with a pronoun?

"Well then?!" demanded the first voice.

She would not reply.

Before she knew what was happening she was squinting in the newly increased light and had 4 sets of eyes staring at her.

She saw the giant cross himself.

Then Emma looked up at the other 3 and her heart caught in her throat. She too crossed herself.

"Robin? Much? Will…?" she whispered.

They all went to say her sister's name but then froze.

Now she saw the faces that went with the voices she couldn't conceive how she had not been able to place them. First voice; Robin, second Will and Much was the third. They all looked and sounded older but ultimately; they were the same people she remembered from childhood.

Much was the first to speak and when he did the confusion in his mind was apparent. "You're supposed to be…"

"Dead," Will finished.

Emma sighed; pained, tears welling in her clear blue eyes. She cautioned a look up at Robin, too overwhelmed to wonder what he was doing in the forest or why he had been pursuing her. Robin was clearly as distressed as she was. He managed to look her square in the eye for a moment, but only a moment before running away into the trees.

Emma jumped to her feet and ran after him, determined to explain herself. Only when they were well and truly away from the others did Robin stop and face her.

For a long time they said nothing. They just looked at each other. Crying and shaking their heads.

Robin opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it. His mind was rushing with thoughts and memories, trying desperately to piece them together.

What is she doing here? He thought. She is dead… supposed to be he corrected himself and Marian's dead too… and now here?

Emma could not say anything. What was there to say? Well, a lot but where to begin?

It took Robin a few more goes to finally spew out a few tangled words that would have made little sense to a sane man but made all the sense in the world to the messed-up pair.

"What are you…you're dead… dead for 5 years… alive…here…how?"

Emma tried to be brave, tried to swallow back her tears but ended up crying more.

Robin walked over to her and pulled her into his chest, where she cried and cried for an hour; all the while he comforted her. It was just as painful for him as it was for her; in more ways than one. But she was so young and it was his duty to be her strength. He lost her when she was 12 and she was the only important thing in his life. Then he felt the same way for her sister and he just lost her in the Holy land. Now Emma-Clarine was back and he didn't know what to think.

When she finally managed to pull herself together a little she exhaustedly told her tale through the occasional splutters.

"My father didn't want me to go to a convent as second-daughters usually do and we had relatives in London… He knew that you, you…you loved me but wanted to avert your liking towards Marian-" her voice caught in her throat and she coughed. "Marian being the oldest…My uncle wrote to my father and told him of a wealthy merchant who had a son looking for a young wife. Being a merchant, he would not expect an expensive dower so my father thought that would set me up for life. So he wanted me to go to London, marry the merchant's son and live happily ever after. But then he thought of you," she paused. "He knew, knew … knew that you'd follow me to the ends of the earth if I was still alive so he decided I had to die…So with the help of the servants he managed to fake my death down by the river that day and have me spirited off to London by carriage."

She sighed emphatically. "By the time I got there however; he was already married. I hated my father for making me 'die' because now that he had; I couldn't go back. I hadn't wanted to go…I cried and cried and cried every night for a month after I left… I said I hated my father and I never got to see him again." She scrunched up her eyes in vain to stop the onset of fresh tears. "He had my best interest in mind…he wanted me to have a good life…Marian didn't even know I was still alive," she spluttered. "I was going to write to her the very day we received the news of her death," she inhaled shallowly. "And now…now…I've lost them both! Oh Robin…"

Robin held her close to him again and stroked her soft ebony hair affectionately.

"I'm here to take care of his estate…" she said through more tears. "Oh Robin!"

"Shh, shh," he soothed. "We'll get you a bed; you need rest."

With his arm around her shoulder Robin led her back to camp, still unsure of what to think.

"Is um… Djaq okay?" she asked.

"Djaq is fine," Robin replied without really knowing, though he was sure she was. "Probably just stunned by your fighting ability," he added lightly.

"I learnt it all from you," she replied wanly, still crying a little.

He nodded; that she had.

All eyes fell on the pair as they hobbled back to camp; even Djaq who was looking a little pale was watching. Robin laid her on his bed and put a blanket on her. He tried to smile at her reassuringly but they were both too plagued by the morning's events to be calm. Emma soon fell asleep, exhausted by the hysterics, no longer caring about anything she had ever thought was important to her.

Robin motioned to the others to follow him. They all trailed him a little way into the forest where he stopped and sat down on the ground.

"Master?" Much asked. "Wha- what," he stuttered.

Will looked up at them thoughtfully. He had played with Emma-Clarine as a child; they were closer in age than her and Robin were but not nearly as emotionally close as them. But still he had been deeply affected when he was told she had died.

For John's sake Robin recounted his childhood with her.

"Her name is Emma-Clarine; she's about 15, 16. We played together as friends. You'd have to be blind to miss the resemblance between her and Marian. They were sisters," he paused. "We used to play with her as kids. 'We'; meaning Much and me."

"I did too," Will informed them. "Not as often as you would have but often enough. Sometimes she'd take a horse without asking and ride over to Locksley. When she was done playing with Robin she'd play with me and Luke."

Robin nodded. "Sometimes Marian would too, but most of the time she was kept inside because it was un-lady-like to be riding through Sherwood and playing hide and seek in the mud, which are some of the things we used to do together…"

He then went on to re-tell Emma's story with almost as much trouble as she had had. "I haven't yet told her about what became of her father's estate," he finished with.

Djaq, Will and John rose and walked back to camp. Much went to do the same but then stopped.

"Master, you loved her didn't you?"

Robin nodded without looking up at him.

Much put a hand on his shoulder. "Do you still?"

Robin looked up at him but said nothing. None of it would make any sense to him for a long time; if ever.

"Maybe you should rest," he suggested. "You can have my bed."

"No that's okay Much," he said quietly. "I won't be sleeping at all tonight. I just need some time alone."

Much nodded respectfully and retreated back to camp. If he knew his master (which he did) then he knew that when he said "I won't sleep at all tonight" it would last far beyond tonight.

Robin looked back at him and realised that maybe he shouldn't have asked to be alone. Much was going through almost the exact same situation and that shared experience would have been comforting. Much was doing a great job at holding his emotions in.

Unlike me Robin thought.

Memories of the two sisters flashed through Robin's mind. They were almost identical in looks and spirit. They had both been dear to him and they had both been lost to him. But now the prodigal sister had returned. All those nights that Robin had cried for his beloved Emma-Clarine she had been alive and well in London.

When he got over her he found his love for her older 'twin.' She was just like another Emma; just older. He thought he had found what love meant. Then fait and Guy of Gisborne took her from him…

Sometimes the happiest day of your life can also be the saddest, he realised. The memories cut him like knives from the inside and ate away at him like acid.

Robin sat there all day. Just as the moon was rising and casting its silvery luminance over Sherwood he realised that no matter how many times he had said he had been over Emma for a long time; he never really had been…