I am completely and utterly in shock. I simply cannot believe I got seven reviews in only a week -I've had stories sitting on this site for years that never got quite that kind of stats. You guys are amazing. Thank you. Really. Now it is my hope that all seven of you (and perhaps even some more) review again to let me know what you think of this chapter. Fair warning, it's my least favourite chapter out of the ten, so even if you don't like it, please power through. I assure you it only gets better from here and I swear most of you will come to like the story in the end.

I have good news for you: there's a chance I won't be able to post next Monday because it's a holliday here in Argentina and I think I won't have access to a computer for the whole weekend. However, since this story has gotten a much better response than I expected, I might be able to post on Friday -or Saturday morning-, if that's okay by everyone.

Oh, I wanted to clear one thing with you, in case it's not clear enough in the story: in this scenario, Marian didn't try to kill the Sheriff and she wasn't caught by Gisborne either. So, to be clear, Marian's secret identity remains a secret to everyone but the Outlaws. Also, Allan betrayed the gang but he returned to them to warn them about Vaisey's plot. That much hasn't changed.

Keep on reading and reviewing!

PART II

The journey back home was nowhere near as enjoyable as either men had imagined it would be all those months ago when they had set out on their adventure. At that time they had thought they would return covered in the glory of being the ones who had saved King Richard from a certain death –maybe even accompanied by the King himself, who would have realised upon their arrival that the situation at home was unmanageable and would have made plans to return with them. They had dreamt of walking down the familiar paths with eager anticipation, waiting for their friends to show up at every turn. But most of all, they had thought there would be more of them.

There should be five of them, not two.

Though they could say they returned relatively successful –the King was alive, and at the end of the day that's what mattered–, the things they had had to sacrifice in the process were too many to consider this latest mission of theirs a victory.

They walked slowly down the all too familiar North Road, each too immerse in their own thoughts to talk –not that there had been much talking in the months preceding this moment. Their loses hanged heavily between them, making their desire to talk almost nonexistent. Besides, the prospect of what was to come was enough to consume every other thought they may have had like wildfire, making conversation about anything an impossible task. And since none of them really felt like discussing what awaited for them in the place they both called home, silence was the only option that remained for them. The time was drawing close, however, for them to address the fact that everything was completely different now and that their paths may not be as clear as they had been before.

Still, it wasn't until they were close to their old camp that one of the men asked the question that should have really been asked much sooner.

"What now?"

So simple, yet so meaningful. What were they supposed to do now?

The other man turned his light blue eyes in the direction of his companion and gave him an odd look.

"We go to the camp, obviously," he said. "We... He has to know."

"Well yeah, I know that. I mean later. It's not just him who has to know, remember?" the first man said defensively.

The second man winced slightly. Yeah, he knew that the news they bore would have to be delivered twice.

"We go find her and we tell her the truth. Then we come back and... We keep on going."

"How can you be so cool with it? They are gone! How are we supposed to carry on without them?" the first man said angrily.

"Hey, I'm not being funny, but that's what they would have wanted! We can't let this hold us down. We have to carry on –that's what he always said, remember?"

"Carry on," the man muttered irritably, running a hand through his reddish hair, forcing the bandana he was wearing to move out of place. "It's easy for him to say it –he doesn't have to do it. But what about us? How am I supposed to carry on without him, eh? How?"

The other man walked the short distance that separated them and put a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I miss him too," he reminded him. "You are not alone," he said with unusual tact.

"Well, that won't bring him back now, will it," he replied angrily, shrugging the man's hand off and reassuming his walk. But he had only taken a few paces when a rope entwined itself around his foot, forcing him from the ground.

The man yelped in surprise as he suddenly found himself hanging by his ankle, the world tilted in the most unusual angle. His companion watched in silent horror for a few seconds and then a wide smile spread across his face as comprehension dawned upon him.

"You're laughing?!" the man said angrily when his eyes found him as he struggled to break free from his binds. "It's not funny!"

"It is from this perspective," he reasoned, as he watched his friend trying blindly to reach for the rope that held him prisoner, his face turning redder and redder with every swing he took.

"Put me down!" he demanded.

"Okay, okay. I'm coming," he agreed, drawing his sword. But no sooner had he taken a step forward that an arrow came flying from somewhere among the trees, missing his nose by millimetres.

"Stop right there," a female voice commanded, stunning both men into submitting. "You shouldn't be walking down these paths –they are full of outlaws," she said knowingly.

Upon hearing her words, the man that had been left standing smiled again, clearly amused at the turn things had taken. The other man, however, didn't seem to share his good humour.

"Is this supposed to be a joke?" he said angrily, reassuming his struggle. "Put me down right now!"

"I will," the woman replied, emerging from the trees. She was very young –probably no more than 16 or 17– and had curly blond hair that blew slightly with the light breeze. "After we've settled a few things."

"Settle a few things... God! This can't be happening right now!"

"Now, now," the blonde man said to his companion. "Don't fret. The girl here is just doing her job. I'm assuming you're talking about our fee, right? What is it, a tenth of what we're carrying?" he added to the girl, who was slightly taken aback by his apparent familiarity with their process.

"Yes, unless you lie to me, in which case I'll take the lot."

"No, no. No-one is going to lie," he assured her calmly.

"I cannot believe you are enjoying this!"

"Oh, come on, you have to admit it's at least a little funny!"

"You have one twisted sense of humour!"

"Okay, enough chit-chat. What's it going to be? Are you going to give me your money, or will I have to take it from you?" The girl was slightly uneasy. The people she frequently encountered usually either gave her the money or tried to fight her. These men, however, behaved with a familiarity that was completely new to her.

"I'm not going to fight you. But I will like to talk to your superior if that's alright."

"I don't..." She stammered, pretending not to know what he was talking about.

She couldn't fool him, though.

"John Little?" he pressed. "Tall, big, bushy bear... Kind of looks like a giant. I'm assuming he recruited you, am I right?"

This time the girl looked definitely surprised.

"How..."

But before she could fully form the question, loud footsteps were heard and Little John appeared from the trees.

"What is taking you so long, Kate?" he asked before noting the man standing in the middle of the road and his companion, still hanging from the tree. "Allan?" he asked incredulously, his eyes shifting from one to the other. "Much?"

"Hi there, big guy!" Allan A Dale said cheekily, his arms spreading to welcome his long lost friend in a tight embrace.

The man crossed the little distance that separated them in one large stride and wrapped the other man in a bone crushing hug.

"You're back," he stated.

"Why yes, you didn't think you would get rid of us just like that, did you?" Allan replied.

"You've missed him. He's missed you. We get it. Now, for the love of all things holly, could someone please put me down!" Much complained.

John looked fondly at him, but before he could move, the dagger had already come flying, cutting the rope and sending Much to the ground.

"Thank you," he said, getting to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster. "How very kind of-" He stopped abruptly when he saw the dark figure standing just behind the girl named Kate.

Allan noticed Much's sudden change and followed his gaze, his eyes finding the source of his discomfort quite easily.

She wasn't wearing any of the pretty dresses she would usually wear when she visited, but this particular set of clothes weren't at all unfamiliar. The dark vest still bore the mark where she had been stabbed two years ago –it had been fixed, but the trained eye that knew where to look could still make it out. The long cape flew slightly behind her and the mask did not cover the icy blue eyes both men had come to know so well.

"What are you doing here?" Allan spluttered. He immediately regretted his words, obviously. This was not the way to start the conversation that was sure to come.

"I don't think you are really in the place to ask such a question," she reminded him calmly, loosening her cape and letting her dark curls fly freely behind her. "You are the ones who have been gone for the better part of the year," she added, removing the mask.

"What Allan means is..." Much interjected. "Shouldn't you be in Sussex or something?"

Lady Marian of Knighton grimaced.

"Or a convent, I heard. Yeah, as if I would ever agree to leave Nottinghamshire," she said dismissively. "It should be enough that I agreed to leave the Castle without a fight." John cleared his throat, reminding her that that wasn't actually quite true. "Okay, with only a small fight. Happy?" she turned to the man, smiling fondly at him.

But small fight wasn't quite right either, John thought. The truth was that Marian had not been happy to be told that Robin had left for the Holly Land again and had left instructions for her to be taken care of, as if she were some fragile little girl who needed a man for protection. She had handled just fine before he came along –better than him even.

"Sussex?!" she shrieked when John fist told her about Robin's plans for her. "He expects me to go to Sussex?!"

"He expects you to be safe," he explained.

"In Sussex. Locked away somewhere while he is off doing God knows what so that when he returns he can come back to me a hero to set me free!"

John smiled slightly. Of course Marian wouldn't agree to go just like that. Robin should have known better than to even suggest it.

"You know how he is," he reminded her.

Marian, who up until that point had been pacing restlessly around the camp –she had gotten worried after she hadn't heard from Robin for a few days and decided to give her guard the slip so she could investigate what was going on–, stopped in her tracks and turned to look at the Outlaw.

"I'm not leaving," she stated simply.

"Never thought you would," he agreed.

"Good."

She sighed and sat herself heavily on Robin's bunk, hiding her head in her hands. John went to sit next to her.

"I can't believe he's gone," she whispered, mostly to herself. She felt a horrible sense of déjà-vu that was making her sick to the stomach. Then again, it was different this time around: Robin had at least said goodbye when he left the first time.

"The Sheriff is going to kill the King. If there's anyone who can stop him, that's Robin."

Deep down, she knew this. After all, it had been her who had told Allan to find Robin. Of course, at the time, she had hoped the situation would have been handled in England, but on some level she had always known that it would all come to this: Robin would have to go and talk to the King –Robin would have to go back to the Holly Land.

Still, she wasn't going to make things easy for him.

She jumped back to her feet and reassumed her pacing.

"He still should have told me," she said angrily.

"He couldn't do it, Marian. He couldn't face you again. Come on, you must have heard it from Much! Leaving the first time almost destroyed him: he didn't talk during most of the trip and he barely ate. He couldn't go through that again –he couldn't bear to hurt you again."

Marian winced as she thought back to Robin's tortured gaze as he came to her that night to let her know he was going. She had tried to pretend that such a look had not affected her in the least –that she was glad he was in pain–, but the truth was she had never been able to erase it from her mind. Angry as she had been, scared as she had been... The pain in his eyes was something that had plagued at her during the whole of his absence and had only left her alone when she'd seen the look of utter relief that had graced his handsome features when he return.

No, she wouldn't have been able to handle his heartache a second time either.

"He just didn't want to be the one to tell me I had to go to Sussex," she spat the last word. "Really, what makes him think for one moment that I would leave? My place is here, with the people. I need to fight for them."

"No, you need to be safe," John told her firmly, getting to his feet and capturing Marian's wrist in his hand. "Listen, Marian, the only way Robin could force himself to do this was by making sure that everything and everyone was safe during his absence: he sent me here to care for the people and for you. He needs to be sure you're safe, or he'll be distracted –and we both know he can't afford to be distracted right now."

"He may think as he likes. I'm not going," she said with finality.

"You're not staying either," he replied fiercely.

For a moment they both looked into each other's eyes, trying to will the other one into surrendering. When that didn't happen, though, Marian –who knew she was at a disadvantage if it came to a fight– came up with another plan.

"Okay," she agreed slowly, choosing her words carefully. "I'll cut you a deal. What if I told you I can leave, but I can also stay?"

John furrowed.

"Robin is worried about me –Lady Marian. He doesn't want me in the castle. Correct?" John nodded. "Suppose for a moment I agree with him that the castle is no place for me to be alone." She tried not to roll her eyes at the absurdity. "Suppose I do leave. I don't have to go to Sussex."

"And where would you be going?" he asked uneasily. He didn't like where this was going.

"Here," she gestured around herself at the camp. "To Sherwood. I'll join the gang!"

John snorted.

"That's not going to happen."

"Hear me out first!" she said, a little desperately. "You need me here. There's no-way you can handle the whole of Nottinghamshire alone. I can help you!"

"And how would that be keeping you safe?"

"Because I wouldn't be here," she replied, her eyes shining with a glint not too different to the one that usually grazed Robin's eyes when he came up with a particularly outrageous plan. "The Nightwatchman is. People would never ever know that Lady Marian is nowhere near Sherwood. Please, John, you have to admit it's a good plan!"

It had taken a while, but after much pleading and smiling and promises that she would always be safe, John had finally agreed.

"But if you even scratch yourself, you're going to Sussex," John reminded her, passing her the tag Robin had left for her. "Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"I don't understand," Kate said suddenly, breaking John's recollection. "You know these men?"

"They are friends," John stated simply.

"Oh, I'm so happy that you're back!" Marian said suddenly, dropping her daggers to the ground and rushing to give each man a tight hug. "I've missed you all so much!"

The men returned the hug a little awkwardly and muttered that it was good to be back too.

When she stepped away from Allan she took a step back and fixed her eyes on the North Road, as if she expected the rest of their party to come trotting shortly thereafter. When she realised no one was coming, she turned her attention back to the men before her.

"Where's everyone else?" she asked.

Much flinched ever-so-slightly. He had really hoped this particular subject wouldn't arise for another while –then again, it was a miracle it hadn't arisen already.

"Djaq decided she wanted to stay with her people," Allan replied, even though he knew Marian didn't really care about anyone but one particular person. "And Will decided he wanted to stay with Djaq."

"And Robin?" she pressed, her eyes narrowing. She could tell something was not right.

"Why don't we head back to the camp? I surely could eat something, couldn't you, Much?"

"Where's Robin?" she hissed, a horrible feeling gripping at her heart. Why wasn't he here? Why hadn't he come rushing to her side? Why wouldn't Much and Allan tell her?

"There was an ambush," Much explained. No use to dragging it on now, he thought defeatedly. She would have the truth out of them one way or another –he might as well tell her. He skipped the part where the King had thought Robin to be a traitor to spare her at least some of the pain. She didn't need to know exactly how much her betrothed had suffered. "-shortly after our arrival. The Sheriff had arranged for an impostor to take Saladin's place when King Richard went to meet him to talk peace. Robin found out about this, so he took the King's place."

Marian nodded, her eyes already filled with tears at the prospect of what she was about to hear. John moved closer to her, lest she falter when she heard what he suspected they were going to say.

"There was a fight," Much continued. "The impostor was easily overpowered, but there was the Sheriff and Gisborne to take into account. We tried to get the king to safety –to Acre. But they followed us. Vaisey shot an arrow at him that fortunately missed his heart but got his shoulder nonetheless. He was thrown off his horse and Gisborne was to finish the job."

The tension was palpable. Even Kate, who didn't find the tale the least bit interesting recognized the anxiety hanging in the air and didn't dare interrupting.

"Robin was the closest by a long shot, since he was ridding just behind the King. We had separated and we would have never made it in time. He saw Gisborne approaching, sword drawn, ready to deliver the fatal blow..."

"He was a bloody hero," Allan added, knowing the words meant little now, but wanting Marian to know nonetheless. She needed to know what Robin had done for England –for all of them. "To go after Gisborne, unarmed as he was... He knew he didn't stand a chance. But he saved him. Bought us enough time to get there and handle the situation. Gisborne escaped, but at least the King lived to fight another day."

"And Robin?" she whispered hoarsely.

"Djaq did everything –you have to believe that. I've never seen anyone putting that much effort into anything. But the cut was too deep, and we were too far from the King's camp to get the right instruments... It was a rigged game from the start, but she fought tooth and nail to save him, he just..."

"Didn't make it," Much finished. "He just couldn't fight anymore. I am so sorry, Marian, truly..."

She shook her head to signal that she didn't care about what they told her anymore. She didn't want their pity, she didn't want their compassion. She wanted Robin.

"This cannot be happening again," she choked. "He cannot do this to me again."

She still remembered the first time he had left and how she had told him he might as well go and get himself killed for all she cared. Had he died then, she probably would have fared better than she was faring now –her own pride would have served as some sort of buffer between herself and the pain. Or at least that was what she had thought at the time –that she wouldn't mind. But even then she had known, as soon as she saw him standing by her front door, looking bewildered at her, that she never would have gotten over him if he hadn't returned. The joy and relief that had cursed through her veins during that short moment when their eyes had met and his face had broken in one of his glorious smiles had told her what she had refused to admit for five years: she was in love with Robin –she would always be in love with Robin.

Now she didn't even have her pride or the knowledge that she was in the right and he was being an idiot to hide behind. This time she was completely vulnerable and unprotected against the pain. Robin hadn't died looking for glory –Robin had died trying to make things right.

John wrapped his arms protectively against her small frame as her tears soaked the front of his shirt.

"He has to come back," she sobbed. "You said he would come back."

"I know," he said. "I really thought he would."

"I hate him," she said with finality, pushing against her friend's chest and taking a step back. "I swear I do. Do you hear that, Robin? I hate you," she repeated, raising her eyes to the sky. She tried grasping at every ounce of anger she had left in her body from the old days –the days before Robin claimed her heart as his–, but it was useless. Those days were long gone now. "I-" she couldn't say anything else. Her body couldn't support her anymore and she fell to the ground before the men could get to her. She sat there, completely defeated, her tears soaking the ground and her body shaking with violent sobs.

Allan took a step forward, eager to comfort her, but John stopped him. He recognised her need to get the pain out of her system.

Much, however, dodged John's outstretched arm and took a hesitant step forward. He sat himself before the woman that should have become the Lady of Locksley someday.

"I know it hurts," he said softly. "Believe me, I do. I know you are hurt and that you are mad at him and that you want to hate him. I know because I've been there too. I was... so mad at him –still am. But-" he took a deep breath and continued. "We cannot let us our pain hold us back. He... He would want us to fight in his name. He died believing that England could be saved, and we owe it to him to at least try."

Marian stared blindly at him for a moment, her mind far, far away. She remembered with painful clarity that first night after he returned from the Holly Land, how angry he had been at the state he had found Nottingham. She had called him a fool then, but she had been secretly glad at finding he cared and as he morphed into the saviour of the people –sacrificing everything in the name of what was good–, she had grown to admire him more and more.

Much was right. Even if in the inside she felt like dying, she couldn't give up just yet. She had to carry on –for him. She had to do what he could not. She had to live the life he had given up for England.

"We find Ladner, we bring the King home and then we get married," he had said a lifetime ago, in their special tree where he had attempted to propose by comparing her to his bow, next to a man they had just buried. Obviously it was too late now for the last part of that promise to come true and they had already achieved the first part. But they had never managed to bring the King back, even though Robin had given his last breath in that quest. It was up to her now –and whatever was left from the gang– to try. They would fight the Sheriff, they would hold Nottingham until the King returned. And then she would join him –but not until she had fulfilled his mission.

Slowly, so slowly that Much would probably have missed it if he hadn't been looking at her so intently, she nodded.

"Good," he said. "Good. He... He would be glad."

"He would want me safe in a convent," she pointed out, with as close a smile as she could produce under the present circumstances.

"Yeah, that too," he agreed.

"You okay?" John asked her, kneeling next to the woman he had come to care for like his own daughter.

"I'll live," she replied, whipping violently the tears from her eyes.

The man helped her to her feet and together they led the way back to their camp.

As they walked, it was explained to those who had just arrived that Kate was a peasant from Locksley who had found herself recently outlawed and had been welcomed into the gang. They were also told that young Luke Scarlett was too a new member, having arrived back at Nottingham shortly after their departure. He was away at Nottingham doing some reckoning, Marian informed them.

The camp looked just as it had when they had left it. Much's eyes filled with tears when he spotted his master's old bunk and some of his old clothes hanging from the chest at the foot of the bed, but he said nothing.

"You still have your old places," John informed them. "We had planned to ask Will to build more beds when you all returned, but I don't think it's necessary now."

"It's still six of us," Much whispered. "Different six, though."

The three original outlaws and Marian nodded their heads in silent acknowledgment.

"I'd like to propose a toast," Allan said suddenly, eying greedily the jar of ale that rested on a nearby table. Such statement was readily agreed upon, and soon four mugs had been poured (since this was a private moment between those who had known and loved Robin, no-one thought of including Kate).

"To Robin of Locksley," Allan said, raising his mug. "The best leader and friend one could have hoped to have."

"To the best master and brother," Much agreed fervently, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he raised his own mug.

"To my soul-mate," Marian whispered softly, clutching the tag John had given to her months ago, which she wore around her neck, next to her engagement ring.

"To Robin Hood," John stated, and the sentiment was echoed by the other three.

After they had had a sufficient amount of ale in their systems, Much announced that he had something for Marian.

The woman eyed him curiously as he dug inside the bag they had brought with them and produced three items, which he placed neatly before her. She had no trouble recognizing Robin's weapons.

"He would want you to have them," he explained as she started wide-eye at Robin's most prized possessions. "Think of them as his way of protecting you from wherever it is he is."

Marian listened with half an ear as she took Robin's bow reverently. It was the same bow with which he had taught her to shoot when they were kids, the same bow he was rarely seen without. The quiver, which Much had laid next to the bow, still held some of Robin's trademark arrows –he'd never told her why they were special, just that they were different from any other arrow she could ever get her hands on. She reached out and gently caressed the goose feathers at the end, shivering as she imagined him doing the same thing.

The last item on the table was Robin's sword. He had acquired the sword upon one of his first travels to London, when he was but twelve years old. He had been really excited about it, and had come straight to Knighton to show it to Marian and maybe practise for a while. But Marian wasn't a suitable rival for him, he had soon learned, being too young still to have any real ability with a sword. He had turned to Much then, and he had used him as his partner while Marian watched with interest.

"You know what?" she said suddenly, grabbing the sword by the handle and offering it to Much. "You should take it."

Much was surprised.

"What?"

"You are much better than me with a sword, and I'm certain Robin would want you to have it. It's only fair; he tortured you with that thing for years!"

Much just stared at the sword for a long while, until Marian finally pushed it into his hands.

"My lady, I don't know what to say..."

"Say you will use it like Robin would," she replied. "There won't be any meaningless bloodshed, understood? The principles Robin stood for are the principles we shall stand for. We fight for the people, but we don't kill for the people. There has already been enough death around here."

"We are Robin Hood," John held, raising his mug again.

"We are Robin Hood," Marian agreed.

Luke returned some time later and though he was a little sorry that his brother was not of the party that had returned from the Holly Land, he was generally happy that at least Allan and Much were back ("The more the merrier," he had said as he hugged the newcomers). He offered his condolences to Marian and meant it when he said he would help making sure Gisborne paid for his actions.

He had spent the whole day at Nottingham gathering information. Apparently the Sheriff and his lieutenant were back, though keeping a low profile for the time being. Word of Robin's death hadn't gotten out yet, but Luke had heard of a certain event being organized for some time in the near future and he ventured a guess that that was the moment when they planned to announce of their apparent success.

"What do you want to do?" Kate asked Marian once Luke was done.

Marian didn't immediately replied, her eyes and attention fixed upon the two items hanging around her neck. She held them tightly for a moment, gave them a gentle squeeze before tucking them back under her vest.

"We show the Sheriff that Robin Hood is not dead," she replied firmly.

A plan was starting to form in her mind.

Well, she amended with a smile. Half a plan.

Please don't kill me.

PS. Remember when I said the story was 28991 words long? Well, we've crossed the barrier of the 30 000 now (30 249!) There's a reason why I prefer one-shots -I don't feel the need to constantly re-read them and add things.