Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, which is a shame.
Big thanks and heartfelt hugs to Claire for her superb beta work and unquenchable encouragement. This fic was first posted at the Robin of Sherwood Fanfic Archive. Enjoy!
When the Rain Fell
Water dripped down the wall of Herne's cave.
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.
He could feel it marking his waning time.
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.
His breath scraped at his throat, the whispers of leaves and bark. It was an effort now, to breathe, to live. But there was one more prophecy to fulfil.
Red sky and a silhouette.
A body stuck full of arrows.
A grave deep in the forest and a figure wearing Herne's antlers standing over it.
The path ahead was clear.
Robert paused in the clearing, the tail end of Herne's call anchoring him. This was where he was supposed to be.
He glanced behind him impatiently. It hadn't been long since Marion had returned to the forest and he didn't want to be away from her. A part of him was worried that she would be gone once more when he returned.
"She will not leave again."
Pulled from his thoughts, Robert found Herne stood before him. But this was the Herne that he rarely saw – an old man with long grey hair and dressed in rags. He looked crumpled and tired, not the living embodiment of an ancient god.
In fact, he looked sick. Sweat beaded his forehead and his breathing was shallow.
"Why have you sent for me?" asked Robert, concern moving him closer.
"Because a time of change approaches. This body is nearing its end." Herne gave a rare smile. "Another will take its place."
"Another?"
"I am not the first, nor the last, that the Horned One has possessed."
"But who will take your place?"
"One who has come before, one who will come again. He still has a purpose to fulfil."
The body lay on the sweet rushes and furs piled in a dark corner of Herne's cave. Herne could feel the breath leaving his own body, his limbs wearying. He didn't have long.
He leant down, as a father would to a sick child, and pressed his fingers to cool temples. The air hummed with sudden tension and the body trembled under his hands.
Robin of Loxley opened his eyes.
Marion was still there when Robert returned to the outlaw camp. She was sat by the fire, dressed once more in tattered green and brown, and smiling as John teased Will. It was a sight Robert had been convinced he'd never see again and he paused for a moment to savour it. She had chosen danger once more; she had chosen him.
The smile he sent to her was echoed when she caught sight of him.
"Didn't want to talk for long then?" Will surmised as Robert made his way back into the circle. "Herne?"
"No…….but there was something wrong. His words didn't make sense."
Will snorted. "Oh well, that's nothing new, is it?"
"Mmmm. Talks in riddles." John passed the bowl of roasted rabbit along then snatched the gourd of ale Tuck had just finished drinking from. "Leave some for the rest of us, Tuck!"
Robert's mouth twisted as he sat down next to Marion. Will and John were right. Herne's words were rarely clear, but these had been different. They had sounded so final.
"What is it?" Marian had noticed his discontent.
"Herne's words," Robert dipped his head close so that only she would hear him. "He said that his body is nearing its end, that someone else would take his place."
"Someone else?"
"Someone with a purpose to fulfil."
"What do you feel?"
"...the earth...the forest...and..."
"And?"
"The light and the darkness."
"Herne."
"Herne."
The celebrations at Marion's return went on into the night, until the fire was burning low and Tuck was snoring. Robert's eyes rarely left Marion, and his happiness at her presence temporarily blotted out his confusion and concern over Herne's words. He laughed more than he had in a long time.
Marion laid her blanket next to Robert's as Nasir took the first watch, for Will was too drunk to do his duty, and smiled softly as Robert said goodnight to her. Only their arms touched as they slept, but that was enough for now. It was a new beginning.
"Who were you?"
"...Robin, Robin of Loxley."
"And now?"
"Herne?"
Robert had followed the voice, but he couldn't see his woodland father. The part of Sherwood he was in was deserted; he couldn't even hear his friends' voices any more.
"The wheel turns again."
Herne stood before him, in furs and the familiar headdress. But it wasn't the man Robert knew. It was a younger face beneath the antlers. Robert stepped back, his hand straying to Albion. An impostor? No, the magic, the powerful feeling that always clung to Herne, was still there. What had happened?
Robert reached Herne's side and found himself looking at a grave. There was no marker and it had clearly been freshly dug.
"It was what he would have said," Herne stated quietly. "Now, he is free."
A time of change approaches. This body is nearing its end.
"Who are you?"
"Once the son, now the father," Herne replied, traces of something in his voice. "Your destiny."
Robert turned his head to take in the grave again. He had never discovered who the elderly man had been before Herne had found him.
"Remember his words." Herne's hand rested on Robert's shoulder and Herne spoke as though he was pulling the words from deep within his own memories. "You must keep aiming, Robin i' the Hood."
Robert's eyes stayed fastened on the grave. That Herne had been the one to call him to this path, to the band and to Marion. How different his life would have been otherwise.
When he turned to speak, Robert found he was alone. Even Herne's footprints were gone. So some things hadn't changed. He remained where he was, the rain that was beginning to fall pearling in his hair and dampening the fresh earth. He felt unable to move.
He had already said goodbye to one father. Now it felt as though he was saying goodbye to another.
Cool wet fingers slid into his, startling him back to the present, and Marion smiled worriedly at him.
"You were gone too long," she chided gently. "What's happened?"
Robert swallowed and nodded towards the grave. Marion's eyes widened and she instinctively stepped closer to him.
"Who is it?" she asked, her voice lowering into a respectful wondering whisper.
"Herne," Robert answered, feeling as though something was stuck in his throat. "Someone else has taken his place."
The shock on Marion's face twisted into grief. Robert remembered the outlaws' stories. Herne had called Robin, told him what he was meant to do. Brought him to Marion. Now someone else had taken Herne's place and was using his name, as Robert had done when he had become the Hooded Man.
"He warned you, didn't he?" Marion turned to him, already latching on to what he had told her beside the fire.
Robert felt pain and sadness sweep through him sharply as he nodded. "I don't even know who he was. Perhaps no one did."
Marion squeezed his hand and tucked herself close into his side, giving and taking the warmth that they both needed. Robert turned his head and felt her wet curls against his lips before he brushed a kiss across her forehead. He could think of no other he would want with him in that moment, sharing the burden of it. He held onto her tightly.
Nasir melted out of the trees when Marion and Robert eventually emerged from the clearing. The Saracen looked solemn and pressed a hand to Robert's shoulder, his expression telling Robert that he knew what had happened. Robert nodded his thanks. Everything had been taken from Nasir when he was enslaved and brought to England. He understood loss all too well.
It took some time to explain what had happened to the others as they all sheltered in a cave. Tuck crossed himself, his lips moving in a brief silent prayer, as Robert and Marion tried to explain to a confused Much. Will reacted as he always did when he was upset, angrily and violently, and almost stormed off into the rain after picking a fight with John.
"This man you saw - for all you know he could have killed Herne!" Will pointed out, still grasping for answers. "It's got to be a trap."
"No, it was Herne," Robert insisted, with a surety he couldn't explain. "I know it was."
"Then it's Herne," Marian's voice sounded final, though her hand was soft on Robert's arm. "When the storm clears, we'll go to the lake."
"Aye, it's only right," agreed John. "The villages, what are we going to tell them?"
Tuck nodded. "They have a right to know. He's their god."
Robert rubbed at his pounding head. They were right; the villages did deserve to know. Telling them, however, making them understand, could be difficult.
Marion slept beside him again that night. He woke to find her head resting on his shoulder.
They went to Wickham first and told Edward alone, whilst most of the village was working the fields. Shadows moved across Edward's face.
"Someone else has taken his place," Robert told the thane. "It is still Herne."
Edward nodded. He looked deep in thought. "Then he is still with us," he clasped Robert's arm in familiar gratitude. "Can you stay?"
"We need to tell the other villages."
"Oh, no, let us help you," Edward insisted. "We can send messengers. The news'll spread before tomorrow evening is here."
"I can't let you……"
"Robin," Edward's gaze was firm. "You do so much for us. Let us help you."
Robert paused. The news would spread quicker by messenger and Elsie's daughter had passed through Sherwood that morning with blankets and information for the outlaws about some rich merchants travelling by the Newark road. Knowing some of Nottingham Castle's servants was proving to be very useful.
Robert smiled at the thane, one of the only people left who called him by his birth name.
"Thank you, Edward."
Edward smiled and led Robert outside to the sunshine where the outlaws waited. He called for Matthew and James to gather the villagers and asked Robert to stay for the prayers and the passing ceremony. The smell of the smoke reminded Robert of his childhood and stung his eyes.
Much fired his arrow first. Then Will, John, Tuck, Nasir, Marion, and finally Robert. Matthew sat at their feet, quietly watching. He'd brought them news about the message's progress through the villages, proudly telling them of how he'd run all the way to Elderford.
There was a heavy moment of silence. Then, as had strangely become the custom, another arrow flew high above their heads before plunging into the lake.
Herne stood a way behind them, almost under the trees, in dark skins and imposing antlers. He was motionless, not even raising his arms in blessing. Then he was gone.
"The light took him," breathed Matthew with wide excited eyes.
He scrambled to his feet and tossed a hurried goodbye over his shoulder to the outlaws as he left. Robert heard Much's quiet words to Marion.
"Marion, did you see him? For a moment, I thought it was Robin."
It brought Herne's words rushing back, with a different kind of pain.
-end