This is another short ficlet that I created after watching the horrible ending of the Third series. I missed Djaq and Will so much in that series and I decided that I just had to know how they would have reacted to returning and finding everything so different.
Ad of course, both Will and Djaq would have changed also, so that is purely my imagination going into their undocumented life.
Please enjoy, and review after reading.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything that you recognise. The recognisable things go straight into the hands of stupid BBC and their stupid screenwriters. The things that you don't recognise (Djaq and Will's back story, and of course, Daniel Nasir) belong to little ol' me.
They took the South road.
After the trip across the seas, which had taken long enough that they're son, had learnt some English words whilst sailing on the water, and the long trek from the small Saracen town where they had lived, to the coast, they had settled to taking the south road. Unlike all the decisions that they had to make previously, that one was quick and instantaneous.
The south road was the logical choice.
The first decision they had had to make was whether or not they should embark on this new journey. They both knew that they had the stamina to travel that far and remain healthy. How their young child would handle the journey, they weren't so sure, so they had put off thinking about it for months. The months turned to a single year and before they knew it, their son was having his second birthday, walking around and asking about the heroes of the stories so often read to him.
That had been the ultimate decision making argument. It was time for their son to meet his hero.
And it was time for their oldest friends to meet their baby.
So they had packed their things and began the long journey back to England.
The second decision that was asked was what they would do upon arrival. They wouldn't stay in the forest. That would basically condemn their child to a sure death, especially contrasting the weather in the Holy lands to the cold harsh English winters.
Perhaps they would stay in one of the villages? They would be able to find a safe haven—a lot of people owed them small favours.
Despite Will's attachment to the land that he had grown up in, he could see more clearly than most the newfound corruption that polluted it. He had made his view on staying in England permanently very clear. If there were any chance that he could let his small son grow up in a place that was not England, he would take it.
They had sworn to Bassam as they said their temporary goodbyes that they would be back within months.
But while all these decisions had been hard to go through and difficult to over come, the question of what road to take them to their destination was still an easily answered one.
The South Road.
It led straight through a few shires of England, before entering Nottinghamshire, going directly through the forest. If they tried hard enough, and they could keep the baby sleeping, perhaps they would even be able to surprise the remaining members of the gang. Beat the traps that Will had engineered.
"Do you think much will have changed?" Djaq asked curiously, one night in the middle of their journey. Having just landed on the coast, they had found shelter in a local Inn, and the owner was once a wet-nurse, so the baby was clearly looked after.
The baby had become Will's pride and joy ever since he had first laid eyes on his son.
Daniel Djaq Nasir Scarlett.
Daniel for his father, the loyal carpenter who had died trying to prove his worth to his eldest son. The sudden loss of his father had awoken a rage inside him that only the threat of Robin's death could waver. He had hurt Djaq that day, scaring her and then leaving her locked up and vulnerable to attack from any number of castle guards.
Will would never stop regretting that day.
Djaq, not for the little boy's mother, but for the uncle that he never knew. The man whose name Djaq had taken, and it had been so commonly used that she no longer replied to Saffiyah. Only when Bassam called her by name around the house would she respond, and some times when Will whispered her real name and sweet nothings in her ear.
Nasir, for Djaq's father. For Bassim's brother. The man who had died alongside his son, fighting in the holy wars. The boy would have no grandparents. No grandfathers, on either side, to tell him the stories of the olden days. So he would have their names. A little piece of them to keep the small boy connected, however weakly, with the passed on souls.
Scarlett.
Nothing had made Djaq happier than the day she had taken Will's name for her own. Of course her son made her happy, and filled her with unrequited love and compassion that was only described as the mother's love. But still, even after being wed for three years now, Djaq still woke every morning to see Will's face and marvelled at it's sheer brilliance.
Will had only shrugged, letting silence answer for him. But from that moment onwards, the same look of thoughtful curiosity tattooed his features.
As they walked slowly now, quietly in the early hours of the morning, towards their destination.
"Are you excited?" queried Djaq, looking at her husband.
Will just swallowed, and cradled the baby in his arms a little closer to him. He could hardly convey the emotions that were coursing through him now.
Excitement and energy, obviously. To see his friends after all this time. They were the people who had turned him into the person he was now. They had taught him not to drive right into the battle, and instead act with justice and loyalty. They taught him to be merciful in all situations. They were part of him.
Nervousness and worry. Some of his friends acted happy when he left them for Djaq, but he knew that they were upset. Maybe they had formed new lives without him. Maybe they had replaced him. And it wasn't as though he had written to alert them of their arrival. Perhaps they wouldn't want them there.
And so many more. It was like a battle for power over his body going on inside his head. And he wasn't sure who was winning and who would win. And the fight was something Will depended on. The wrong winner and he would take Djaq and Nasir right back to the Holy Lands again.
Djaq smiled at him appreciatively. "They will want to see us." She affirmed. "As much as we want to see them."
Will smiled. This woman was fabulous.
Knowing him inside out, almost better than he knew himself. Will was almost jealous of his child. Djaq would be a wonderful mother.
He found himself calming, as they approached Nottingham. He recognised the road they were walking down. It was the same old forest roads that he had run with Djaq, on the way to save the poor people who needed his assistance. The assistance of him and his wonderful wife.
His old home.
"The camp should be just up there..." Will declared.
Djaq pursed her lips. "We cannot go to the camp now, Will." She told him. "Daniel is hungry and cold. The camp is no place for a small child."
Will looked at the small bundle of cloth that held his son, in his wife's arms. She was right, of course. He wouldn't risk his son's life over a want to see his old friends.
"Nottingham?" He asked, knowing that the town he once hated with such a passion would be the only place where they would find lodgings. "The Trip Inn?" He suggested.
Djaq smiled warmly, and they continued their trek into the town—the trek which was so nearly done.
--
"Something's wrong." Will declared, looking around at Nottingham. When he had last seen the castle and the city that surrounded it, it had been towering above the sky—with no one in the streets. No one brave enough to go anywhere near the Sheriff.
The town was bustling with life. People selling, trading and—even more surprisingly—laughing amongst themselves.
Djaq too was as a shocked as her husband.
"What do you think happened? Did Robin finally win?" She looked excitedly at her husband.
Will was an optimistic man. He looked at everything as though the glass was half full. But this was a scenario where he could not just automatically jump to the best answer. Instead, a nagging in his gut reminded him that no one believed that Robin would win.
He might triumph against the Sheriff, but he would never win against the crown or the Sheriff in the long term.
And no one had ever expected things to change back to this so fast. Everything was vibrant, lively. It wasn't natural, in a way. And something this unnatural couldn't be the result of anything good.
A pang of terror hit Will, in his gut, toes and head—and everything in between. He swallowed, and then turned to his wife hurriedly.
"Stay here." He ordered.
Djaq looked puzzled, but had no time to question before Will had disappeared into the crowd. She tightened her lips again, but decided to let her husband go on this one. He was obviously suddenly distressed, and that worried her entirely too much for her comfort.
She found a place by the wall, set down the bag on her back, and cradled her sleeping son in her arms, eyes wide as she watched for her husband's return.
Will was pushing through the people.
"I need to find Robin Hood." He said urgently. "Where is Robin Hood? The Gang? Where is he?"
One particular man threw a look at Will so violent Will actually withdrew and felt for the awe at his side.
"What do you think you're playing at?" The man snapped.
Will frowned. "I'm sorry... I just—Where is Robin Hood?"
The man glowered at him. "Get out of here, scum." He shouted at Will. "And don't you ever be so bloody disrespectful again—because people here will kill you for it."
Then he shoved will away from him and disappeared into the crowds and crowds of people.
Will felt an arm at his elbow. A complete stranger helped him up from the dirty ground, dusting at his cloths and handing him a drink of water.
"Calm down, sir... The man said to him. His eyes were kind and caring, and the monk's clothing told Will that this man wasn't going to be a violent as the last. "What can I do for you?"
"I need to find Robin Hood." Will said hurriedly. "Where is Robin?"
The black skinned monk frowned at Will.
"Well, no wonder you upset Mr. Blight. Robin Hood has been dead for near a year now."
Will stared at this man. He was lying. Lying before their shared god. The man must have been lying. Robin wasn't dead. He couldn't be dead.
How could Robin Hood be Dead?
He wouldn't believe it. He would not believe it.
Without another word to the delusional monk, Will disappeared back into the crowd—ready to find his wife and then, find the leader who would always be there.
He was not dead.
--
Tuck walked into the camp, and tossed a whole bag of food in front of his fellows. Little John looked up at him, frowning at the man's obvious bad mood.
"What's going on with you, then?" Much asked, appearing from the kitchen.
Tuck clenched his fists, and looked away—seeing a free seat and then decided to sit down there. He looked up at the remnants of their gang.
There were so many empty spots in the camp now. Allan's bed—no one had the courage to pack it up. They had all betrayed him in the end. They had been the traitor to their friend. Allan had made one mistake—and they crucified him for it.
Robin's bed had been turned into the money collection area. It had been Much's idea, in the end. He had decided that as a tribute to his old master, he would keep the gang together and doing what Robin believed in. The tribute area was just a way of Much believing hat Robin was still connected to their good deeds.
Not that they were so much needed anymore.
With the down fall of the sheriff, and Lady Isabella... the replacement had been far better. A man handpicked form King Richard's armies had been sent, after word had reached Richard. The new man, Sir Carter, was the best thing that anyone in Nottinghamshire could have hoped for.
Well, aside from Robin.
Now, it was really the gang's job to help people get back on their feet. They helped the families that had been damaged in the final ultimate fight against the Sheriff.
But it made the group happy. They remained connected to Robin and Allan by dong these good deeds. It kept the remaining few together. It was what kept Archer with them after everything.
"A man was in town today," Tuck finally decided to expand on his mood. "He asked for Robin Hood. He said that he needed to find him."
"What?"
The four other members of the group all poked their heads in to the room from various places, all speaking the same question in unison.
Much grasped Kate's hand tightly—after Robin's death the two of them felt the pain worse than the others. To Kate, he was a man that she could have loved. She already depended on him. She knew that he could never love her back the same way—his lost love held that position and had until he died.
To Much, he was the fallen best friend. The comrade in arms who Much now hand to live without for the rest of his life. In a way—not the way that Will and Allan had once joked about—he loved him. Robin was the only person he ever really confided in.
They found each other. Much's continuous crush on Kate developed, and Kate realised what a great man that Much always was. Now, they were each other's rock. Neither of them prepared to go through losing someone ever again.
"A man. Tall, thin, dark hair. He came in and demanded to find Robin."
John and Much exchanged shocked glances.
"Tall and thin with dark hair?" Much echoed. "Was he accompanied by a Saracen woman?" He asked.
Tuck frowned. "I do not know. I did not see him with any company."
Much deflated a little. John decided to be far more persistent.
"Did he have an axe at his side, Tuck?" John asked urgently. "A small, handheld axe?"
Tuck frowned.
"Yes, he did. How did you know that?" He questioned.
Much and John stared at Tuck in shock—grins beginning to show on their faces. That was definitely their Will Scarlett. And he and Djaq were married. He wouldn't have left her in at Acre. That meant only one thing.
"Will and Djaq are back from the Holy Lands." Much declared.
A new voice from the outside of the camp interrupted this loud revelation.
"Oh. They have all but ruined the surprise."
The hurry to get outside to see who it was that had spoken would have been legendary. Limbs flailed everywhere as everyone pushed each other to see.
Greeting the havoc, outside the camp, was Will and Djaq Scarlett. Two large packs on their backs, and a wee baby boy nesting in Djaq's arms.
"Good Lord..."
--
"You didn't have to hit me so hard, Tuck." Much declared as he massaged his left arm.
Tuck stared at him, evenly as Kate applied a soothing salve to Much's now bruised arm. "Thou shalt not use the Lord's name in vain, Much. It is a Holy Commandment."
Much grumbled. "Well I know that... but they surprised me!"
"You were always easy to surprise." Will quipped, from his new position. Djaq sat beside him, their baby still sleeping in her arms.
Much looked indignant but had no reply. Instead, he decided to deflect the joking statement from his old friend, and ask him a question instead.
"What are you doing here?"
Djaq laughed brightly, but there was a new dimness in her eyes. Will wasn't laughing at all. Instead he looked suddenly sad.
"We came to introduce our baby to the group of people who changed our lives..." Djaq answered Much. "We did not know that you would have been taking in so many new people who we never knew." She smiled graciously at Tuck, Archer and Kate—who had all been introduced by a jovial John only a few moments ago.
"We also didn't know that we had missed our chance." Will said darkly. "Is anyone going to explain what happened to Robin? I would have asked more in town but I feared another punch to the face."
He looked directly at Tuck, as though daring Tuck to stand up for the people who had so rudely greeted Will.
"The people are sensitive when it comes to Robin." Kate explained. "The Sheriff was going to kill every single inhabitant of the Nottinghamshire. Robin sacrificed himself to help stop that. He became their ultimate hero-and disrespecting him here, is not wise."
Will massaged his bruising jaw. "You're telling me now."
Djaq was more interested in what Kate had told him. "He died happy?" She questioned carefully. "He was not in too much pain?"
John swallowed, seemingly the only one brave enough to answer the question.
"He was stabbed by a poisoned dagger. He died quickly—out in the forest, where he wanted to be." John explained. "And Marian was there to greet him."
"He is with our Lord now," Tuck said. "He must be happy."
"So..." Will said cautiously, deciding a change of topic was in order. "Where's Allan?"
Djaq grinned. 'Yes, we need to get back to the town—and we can't go without Allan meeting Nasir. What do you like Allan would say if we named him godfather?"
The silence that enveloped the camp now was deathly still. Everyone had frozen—still not willing to really face, or come to terms with the betrayal of their friend. They had led him to his death.
The two members of the old gang recognised the alarmed looks anywhere. And they knew exactly what they meant.
"No..." Will said slowly. "No... Allan's not dead..."
Djaq already had tears in her eyes. She cradled her baby to her chest and hugged him.
Will shook his head still, refusing to believe this. His best friend was not dead.
Djaq stared up at Will, letting her arm rest on her husband's arm. "Will. Do you want to say goodbye?"
Will nodded, suddenly feeling numb. He stood and stiffly left the camp, almost shaking from the level of upset he was feeling.
He walked out into the silence and stared at the camp that he had almost created singlehandedly. It was the perfect lodgings for their cause. The people who fought for justice, hiding in the woods to avoid capture—their own family—all friends there.
Robin was gone now, as was the best friend he had ever had. He hadn't ever had the chance to tell Allan he forgave him. But he knew his best friend would be up in heaven with Robin.
Nasir's cries interrupted the silence, and he was jolted out of his moment of self pity.
He stared out at the forest that he had lived in for so long. Nasir was awake now, playing with the gang who were so taken with him.
I forgive you. He willed the words to find his best friends somewhere in the world.
He heard a chuckle echo through the forest. A very familiar playful chuckle. Then words, almost caught on the wind, came to him—Will didn't' know if they were real or in his head.
Course you do, mate. What can I say? I'm hard to hate.
Will shook his head, suddenly alarmed. The travelling must have done something to him. He needed a drink—or some food. Anything.
As Will hurried back to the camp to voice didn't stop.
Cute Baby mate... S'like you and Djaq in the same person. You do remember how you stop them from crying, right?
--
Cheers, and thanks for reading. Please review. I hope you liked it.
G.