So, it's been recently brought to my attention that I've made a 12 year old girl cry for an hour with my story. Oops. I'm sorry. I truly am. I'm a really sweet person in real life and I take no pleasure in causing other people pain -I swear. So sorry, CandyGirl12's daughter -and everyone else who's hearts I've been carelessly toying with. I'd say I won't do it again, but the story is not over yet, so I can't promise anyone that their favourite character is going to make it out alive -yes, that means that people are going to die and I'm not kidding this time. Again, sorry. If you want to blame someone, blame my muse. She made me do this.

I haven't gotten around to answering all of your reviews and PMs from the last time because I've had a pretty busy couple of days. (I don't tell people I write fanfictions, so it's also been hard replying to all of you without raising a few eyebrows). But I've read all of them (as annoying as I used to find my ringtone for when I got an email on my phone, I'm actually starting to love it) and I will get to replying to them momentarily, so don't worry.

Nemascena said something in her (I'm assuming you're a she) review I had already noticed but forgot to mention before. When I started writing this story, I was going by what I remembered from the show, without bothering to check some things. But then I did and I realised that Robin's sword was a scimitar, hence he couldn't have bought it in London. Since I'd already written the part where Much gets to keep the sword based on the fact that Robin had used it on him as kids, I decided to leave it like that. Call it a creative license if you liked, kind of like when the BBC decided to give a Saracen bow rather than a Longbow, like in the legend (see? I did do some research). I hope it's not to much of a problem.

You should also know that there is going to be a chapter that it's entirely a flashback, so you are going to learn more about Robin's miraculous survival then. You are also going to find out about what happened to Carter, for those of you who asked. As you may have noticed by now, this story has a pretty weird timeline -we skip ahead a few months but then we also learn about what happened during those months we've skipped over because I tell you. That's not because I'm making stuff up as I go, but rather my style of writing. I do hope it's not to confusing.

Last by not least -because I'm starting to realise that this author's note is exceedingly long, even by my standards-, I wanted to apologise because I had a dumb blonde moment the other day (I'm a blonde, so I can say that). One of my earliest reviewers tried to tell me that I kept writing "Holly" instead of "Holy". I told her I understood, thanked her for pointing it out and told her I would fix it. But I didn't, because I couldn't see the mistake. Only later did I realise I was writing an extra "L" and when I did, I felt really embarrassed. I'm sorry; really, I am. But now it's really fixed, I swear.

Well, I leave you to this then. I hope my lack of manners don't keep you from leaving more of those wonderful reviews you've been leaving so far. I reply to all of them in due time.

PART IV

She moved swiftly along the familiar paths, smiling every time her eyes detected a new trap. Though unlike Robin she had never once doubted their friends' ability to carry on without them, she had to admit that finding hard proof of their latests endeavours was a relief.

She had missed them dearly.

Looking back, she was a little surprised that she had ever thought she didn't belong here. Sherwood was everything the desert was not: Sherwood was life, Sherwood was diversity, Sherwood was freedom.

It was ironic that she had had to get here to be sold as a slave.

She had to admit that her first stay on English soil was much more pleasant than she had thought it would be. Of course that was in no small part due to the friends she had made. Fighting alongside Robin and his Outlaws, she had felt like she was a part of something bigger for the first time since her father's death. But a nagging feeling had remained at the back of her mind, constantly reminding her that this was not her place.

When the opportunity to go back home had presented itself, she had taken it without hesitation.

She had made it through all of one month before the feeling of uneasiness returned, louder now than it had ever been.

Because, she had soon realised, she didn't belong here anymore. This was Safiya's place and she wasn't Safiya anymore. She was Djaq, and Djaq belonged in the forest.

Djaq was part of Robin Hood.

Will's expression of relief as she told him she wanted to go back had possibly been one of the funniest things she had ever seen. He would have stayed for her, but he clearly missed his home.

And so did she.

She soon reached the clearing that housed their camp, but instead of pulling on the lever, which would certainly result in at least one of them waking up, she took a sharp right, walked a few feet deeper into the forest until she found a small trapdoor concealed under a pile of leaves and small rocks. Will had confessed to her a few weeks ago that upon realising that Allan had betrayed them, he had decided that their camp needed an emergency exit, lets their former friend yield to Gisborne's persuasion and give them away. He hadn't told anyone, but he had built another way in and out of the camp, just to be safe.

It was through this entrance that she made her way, not wishing to disturb them while they slept. Well, at least not for now.

They were there -all three of them. No one was keeping guard because they all trusted the protection provided by Will over a year ago –that had been one of the purposes of their new lair and the alarm system around it; to keep them hidden and safe, without the need to be constantly on edge. It had allowed them to relax for a little while –almost like a home.

She stood in the middle of the camp and glanced around herself, her eyes taking every detail in.

John slept on his side, a peaceful smile barely visible through his beard. Much was on his stomach, snoring loudly and muttering unintelligibly from time to time. Allan lay on the hammock he had procured for himself from some place or another, his arms wrapped around his torso.

She smiled widely as she imagined their faces when they awoke and found her there. Surely, they must have thought they would never see her again, especially not this soon.

Much and Allan had been surprisingly supportive when she informed them of her decision to stay in Acre. Then again, they had had some warning. Robin had guessed she wouldn't be coming back even before they left England and had teased her about it occasionally on the ship as they made their way. The others had heard too, and while they hadn't been particularly happy and hoped she changed her mind soon (especially Much, who hated the idea of breaking up the gang), when the time came, they accepted her decision with no complains.

Besides, neither of them had had the heart to fight about anything.

Those first days in Acre after Robin's death had been hard on everyone. They stayed the first night at the King's camp –their half-felt complains hadn't been heard at the time; the King was determined to keep an eye on them, the least he could do after everything they had gone through, he had told them. They had managed to leave for Bassan's the following morning, intending to stay for a few days until they could sort things out. Much, however, couldn't even make it through the first night. He wanted to leave, he told them; he couldn't be there anymore. He hated everything about that place –the sand, the heat. He hated that Gisborne was probably already on his way back to England. He hated that they had come here at all when they first did and even more than he had come back again.

But most of all he hated Robin.

He loathed that Robin had still tried to save Richard, even after he had left them in the desert to die. He hated that his master had lost his sword fighting one of Vaisey's allies and that in his rush to get to the King before the Sheriff got to him he hadn't bothered to pick it back up. He despised himself for not being there for Robin, like he should have been. For not helping him when he needed him.

He hated that he was dead.

He had died and Much really couldn't stay there for another minute because if he did, he would go back to the desert, dig Robin up and he would kill him again. That's how angry he was.

He had left with Allan the very next day.

Neither Will nor Djaq had fared much better, but she at least had taken some comfort in the company of her pigeons and he in hers. Still, the news brought by Bassan that Richard's men were looking for them had been a welcomed distraction.

They would be furious at her when they learnt that she had let them believe Robin to be dead for this long, but really, it's not as if she had had a choice. They had tried to reach them before they left, but Will hadn't gotten to the port on time. Also, it's not as if she had really held any real hope that Robin would recover –not for many weeks at least. She had told herself that giving them false hope would be much worse than keeping the truth from them; that she couldn't let Much believe for even a second that maybe not everything was lost yet. Robin would still probably die and Much and Allan would never need to know about the pain he had gone through. No, it would be her burden to carry –and Will's.

But Robin had not died. He had survived and he had come back home.

And now Djaq would have to tell them the truth.

It's not as if she was disappointed or anything. The fact that Robin was alive was a sheer miracle and she couldn't wait for the world to know about it. She didn't regret her actions either –losing Robin once was bad enough, losing him twice would have been irreparable and she was glad that her friends' hadn't had to face that prospect. Still, it's one thing to be in the right and a whole other to make people understand it. Robin would vouch for that. Many months of his life had been spent trying to sway Marian to see things his way. Much certainly would argue against her as much as Marian ever did. And Allan wouldn't be too happy either.

Maybe she could attempt to cook them breakfast as a sign of goodwill? It would be nowhere near enough to make up for all the months of heartache (especially with her skills in the kitchen), but the thought ought to count for something, right?

She had made up half her mind when her eyes turned instinctively to her old bunk and was shocked to find a petite figure lying on top of it. She looked at Will's and, sure enough, there was a man sleeping there too.

It took her a moment to understand what this meant: not only was Robin Hood still standing, they were also going strong -they were even recruiting people.

The original Robin Hood would be proud.

And speaking of the original Robin Hood...

She wasn't as surprised to find the woman sleeping on Robin's old bunk as she was annoyed at herself for not thinking of the possibility that she might be there. Lady Marian was not one to stay in the sidelines while everyone else fought, so of course she wouldn't have gone to Sussex or wherever it was she was supposed to have gone. Djaq should have known better.

Robin should have known better.

Djaq frowned when she pictured the fit her friend would certainly throw when he learned that while he had thought her safely away from the fight, Marian had been right in the middle of it all, risking her life in his name. What hope she had held of her friend's mood improving anytime soon was extinguished then.

Her eyes caught the dark mask lying on the table and she relaxed a little bit. Perhaps it was the Night Watchman that was out wrecking havoc and Marian's good name remained untainted. That would be slightly preferable –or at least Marian would argue that, when the time for confrontation came, for she was certain there would be a confrontation.

And what a confrontation would that be!

She realised she should let them rest –she knew the best thing would be to stay put until they began to stir and let them find her there. But she must have been spending way too much time with Robin, because as she considered the possibility of letting things run their course, all she could hear was his voice saying: "And where would be the fun in that?"

Much's pans were very at hand –if he had put them away the night before, then maybe she wouldn't have yield to her most childish ways. As it was, she simply couldn't resist.

She grabbed the small cauldron Much used for cooking and a silver tray that had been left nearby for some reason and then, standing close to Allan's hammock –she had always enjoyed teasing with Allan; he had reminded her a little of her brother, who she still missed terribly–, she banged them together.

There was a loud thud as the Outlaw rolled over and fell heavily to the ground. But he wasn't the only one who was startled by the sudden noise. Much's head jerked up and he muttered incoherently as he searched blindly for his weapons. John, on the other hand, seemed to have been stunned into complete paralysis.

Marian and the two new guys fared a little better, since they at least managed to get out of bed and grab their weapons with a small amount of dignity. They still looked pale and scared, though. At least until they heard her laugh.

It was Marian who recognised her, obviously. She was the only one out the four who could have recognised her that still had enough wits about herself to notice that this was not one of their enemies, but a really close friend –the last friend they would have expected to find here, but still a friend.

"Djaq?" She breathed incredulously, lowering her bow slightly so she could take a closer look at their visitor.

The woman could only nod as struggled to catch her breath, which was a much bigger task than she anticipated.

"Djaq is here?" Much muttered, looking around himself, sleep still clouding his mind.

"What are you doing here?" John asked, trying to get to his feet.

"I bring news," she stated, bending to help Allan untangle himself from the mess that had become his blankets.

"News from the Holy Land?"

"News from England," she amended, looking at Marian, who had been the one to ask the question.

"I'm not being funny, but how can you possibly know anything about England that we don't already know? You only just got here!" Allan complained from the floor.

Djaq smiled fondly at him.

"Maybe I have better sources than you do." And then, looking up at the rest of them, she added. "Your King has returned."

"What?!" Much shrieked, pausing in the process of putting his jumper on. This particular bit of intelligence was unexpected. So unexpected, in fact, that lead him to ask a very stupid question. "What King?"

"Well, Richard, of course!"

"Are you sure?" Marian pressed.

"I should certainly hope so. I've been traveling with him for the last couple of months. I would be extremely put out if it turned out he's just an impostor."

"Hold on," Allan interjected, holding his palms out for her to slow down. His head was spinning with everything she had just told them and he needed a moment to sort his thoughts out. "You're saying that the war is over."

"Yes."

"And that the King is back in England?"

"Yes. In Nottingham!"

"The King is in Nottingham," Allan repeated, willing his brain to grasp at the words. "He's come to deal with the Sheriff, then?"

"That's the plan."

"Well, that's good news!" Much exclaimed suddenly, after a moment of silence. "Great news!" He stumbled over his own feet on his way off the bed. The new boy had to grab him by his shirt to prevent him from falling to the ground.

They had been back on English soil for a few months now, and while outwardly they had kept an appearance of outmost confidence, deep down their faith in their cause had began to fade a little bit. The King had been gone for so long and they had tried so hard to bring him back, all to no avail... No-one had said it out loud, obviously, but the idea that they would have to settle for keeping Vaisey at bay indefinitely had certainly started to float around the Outlaws' Camp.

(Robin had always gone out of his way to keep the morale up; with him gone, that role had remained vacant).

But now the King was back. Finally.

"A little context, please?" Luke asked to no one and everyone.

"Context, right. Luke, Kate, meet Djaq. She's part of the gang," Much said solemnly. He was more excited than he had been in months, the news of King Richard's return having brought back some of the life Robin with his passing had taken from him.

"Djaq? The same Djaq for whom Will decided to stay in the Holy Land?"

"Ah, you must be little Luky then", Djaq held, noting the similarities between this man and he who she held most dear. "Will will be delighted to see you."

"Will is here?" Allan asked, craning his neck as he expected to find the man standing among them.

"He's back at the King's camp. He sends his love, though."

"Then we need to get going!" Much announced. John nodded his head in agreement and Allan quickly jumped to his feet.

It was at times like these that one could clearly see Robin's influence. Of course they would want to go and make themselves useful. Waiting in the shadows would be torture, even if they did take part on the final showdown. They wanted to start doing things now –like their leader would. But Robin had learnt to wait, and so would they. They had to be careful or they would end up losing more than their lives.

"No, you can't!"

"I'm not being funny, but why shouldn't we? You're not suggesting we miss the party, are you?"

Djaq hastily explained the plan to them, making sure they understood how important it was that Vaisey didn't suspect a thing.

"It's just two more days," she pleaded. "By diner on Sunday everything will be over. Vaisey will be done for; you will all be pardoned... You just have to be a little more patient."

"She's right," Marian agreed from the place where she had silently been listening to everything that was being said. "We've waited so long for this moment; we can wait a little more."

She had the most reason to want to go, but at the same time she recognised the dangers of moving in on the Sheriff without a clear plan. Once upon a time, she had used to chastise Robin about acting impulsively. Now things had changed, she knew, and she was want to act a little bit too close to the reckless side from time to time, but deep down she was still the girl who had created a whole new persona to taunt Vaisey and his men without falling out of his grace. Much as she wanted to march into Nottingham right now and finally put an end to a war that had started years ago, she wasn't going to do it. She owed her younger self better than that.

No one could think of a good counterargument –not that they didn't try. They were really eager to get a move on things. But they reluctantly decided to wait until Sunday, just like Djaq had said. After all, the last thing they wanted was the whole plan to crumble because of a silly mistake that could have easily been prevented.

Once the initial shock of seeing their friend again started to wear off, preparations for the day began to be made. Blessedly they didn't have anything big planned for Nottingham in the course of the next few days, nor did they expect the Sheriff to have anything in store for them either. It seemed as if good fortune was finally smiling upon them. They did have a few drop offs scheduled, though, and Djaq took advantage of this to ask those who were to go to the villages to spread the word about something big happening in Nottingham on Sunday. She would give Robin the audience he wanted.

After lunch they separated. Kate and Allan went to Locksley while Luke and John took to Clun. Much and Marian were to have the day off.

It was explained to Djaq that they had taken up this system so they could be sure at least two of them would always be free and rested in case of an emergency. What they didn't tell them was that they had come up with such a system after Marian wandered off into Nottingham alone one day shortly after the guys return while everyone was off doing other things and she had almost gotten herself captured. It was sheer luck that Gisborne had been so busy organising a search party with his guards (ironically enough to find Marian of all people) that he hadn't seen her standing there before John could forcefully remove her from the premises.

She hadn't been happy about it, obviously and had attempted to have another go. It was then decided that she should never be left alone, and so the gang had broken into pairs. It ended up working better than they had expected, because they had had to act rashly from time to time, and having two people constantly at the camp had made things easier.

It didn't take Much long to leave in search of something especial for dinner. Soon the women were alone.

Djaq watched the other girl for a while. She sat on Robin's bunk, gazing out of the camp as she toyed absentmindedly with the thread around her neck. She had no trouble guessing what that thread held. She had caught Robin with his hands absently rummaging around his clothes for the tag he was so used to wear –guessing where the tag had gone (or rather, to whom it was given) wasn't exactly hard.

"So, the Night Watchman..." she said suddenly.

Marian smiled –not a happy smile, but probably as close to that as she could give her.

"You're not precisely in a place to chastise me, Djaq," she reminded her, stressing the last word. After all, she wasn't the only one who had taken on a different identity to fight her enemies. The Saracen didn't reply, but she did smile a little bit. Marian did have a point. "Besides, if you're going to say that it's dangerous, you might as well save your breath. It has already been made quite clear that I'm being intentionally reckless."

"Are you?"

"If I were being reckless, would Gisborne still be alive?" She countered.

"Probably not," her friend agreed.

"Look, I'm doing my best," she said after a while. "It's not exactly easy, but I'm managing." She was alive. She hadn't killed Gisborne or Vaisey and her secret identity had remained a secret. That was more than she had expected a few months ago.

Yes, she could fool many when she said she was fine. But she couldn't fool Djaq.

She had seen it before, not just here in Sherwood, but in the war as well. Every soldier went through it at some point or another: a certain moment when everything became too much and things would simply stop making sense. All that would remain at those times was sheer hatred and thirst for revenge. Djaq had had one of those, back in Acre, when her brother was killed. She had ended up captured thanks to that. Her companions hadn't been immune to such a trend either: Robin, John, Will and even Allan to an extent had all gone through that one moment when their own safety ceased to matter and all they had cared about was retribution in the name of those they had lost.

Now, it would seem, it was Marian's turn to feel like that. Only that she was smarter than they were and she had decided to play the long game, rather than let her emotions take a hold of her. She may have told her friends that she wasn't about to go after Gisborne again –and she meant it; she really wouldn't go looking for him, but she certainly wouldn't pass on the opportunity either. When the time came to go to Nottingham, she would be ready –and Gisborne would finally have to face what he had done.

The rest couldn't see this, all of them battling their own anger and pain. But Djaq could.

Just when she was finally done babysitting Robin, it would seem as if she would have to start babysitting Marian. How wonderful.

"I know you are and I'm proud of you. Few women in your place would have done what you're doing. But, I do feel compelled to point out that getting yourself killed in the process is not going to help anyone. That is your end game, is it not? To go down taking as much as the Sheriff's men as you can?" she pointed out calmly, in an attempt to make her friend think things through. It was useless, she knew, but she had to try. She had to try everything.

Marian was only slightly surprised that the Saracen woman had seen through her so quickly. Robin had warned her once, long ago, that the Outlaw had that power.

She didn't reply, but she didn't really need to.

"Marian!" Djaq said angrily. She had hoped to be wrong about this one. "You cannot be thinking about..."

But she could be. She had been.

"He killed Robin," Marian hissed, as if that were enough of a justification.

"And he's going to kill you if you're not careful!"

Marian winced, ever so slightly, and it was then that realisation dawned upon Djaq. It wasn't revenge she was after –or rather, not just revenge.

"You want him to kill you, don't you?"

"Robin and I, both killed by the same sword... it's kind of poetic, don't you think?"

It hadn't taken her long to come up with this plan. Pretty much since the moment she had heard about what Guy had done she had decided to make him pay, not by killing him, but by hurting him –just as he had hurt her.

She had gotten lucky pretty early on. Returning to Nottingham and finding her gone had been a huge blow to Gisborne's confidence and she had enjoyed every minute of watching him trying to find her. (It was because of his pain that she had decided not to kill him, not because of anything the other Outlaws had said to her). Taunting him as a Night Watchman and shooting Robin's arrows at him –she had saved them for really special occasions, like when she was facing Gisborne or Vaisey; everyone else got regular arrows from her– as a reminder that Robin Hood was not dead had been good too. But the time for games was over now.

She was ready to take things to the next level: she was going to have Gisborne kill her.

He would never come back from that, she was sure.

"Robin wouldn't want you to get yourself killed," Dajq reminded her. She knew what she was talking about: if Robin was to be in the Courtyard and he was to see Marian and Gisborne fighting and something were to happen to her... She didn't even want to think of what would happen then.

No, Robin would want her to live. Marian knew that. Then again, she had wanted him to live and he hadn't cared, so he really got no saying in her life anymore.

"Then Robin should be here to stop me, don't you think?" The former lady of Knighton said fiercely.

It took all of Djaq not to laugh outloud.

So, what did you think? To tell you the truth, I have mixed feelings about this chapter. I'm not a big fan of Marian (and I know some of you aren't either), so I had a hard time writing for her. But I'm moderately pleased with the end result, I think.

Also, shameless promotion here. This isn't my first attempt at writing a Robin Hood fanfiction. I actually dipped my toes in the fandom a few years back, writing one and a half stories. The "half" is because one of them was kind of my reaction to an episode from season 3 I hated even more than I hated the rest of the season. I was angry, and so I wrote. The other story was Robin's and Marian's reunion after he came back from the Holy Land, only than my version went slightly differently. It's a cute story, with no deaths or near-death experiences. It's was written a few years ago, so the quality might not be all that good (I'm like the wine, if I may say so myself: I get better with age). But, if you ever feel like reading something like that, just know it exists.

Now I'm done.

I'll see you in a few more days!