Rosa lulled the child she was holding in her arms and her daughter laughed, happy of those cuddles.
"Rosa!" Matilda called, approaching. "Come, help me with Robin, we must tend to his wounds."
"Did he rip the bandages again?" The girl asked, worried, then she glanced at the baby. "I was trying to make her sleep, but she's still quite awake. Wait a moment, I'll leave her with Djaq."
Matilda shook her head.
"No, that girl is already too tired, she works too much, let her sleep. Leave Alice with him."
Rosa's eyes widened.
"With Gisborne?!"
"Why not? He has nothing else to do and he can watch her."
Her daughter hesitated.
"Do you think we can trust him?"
"Alice is my granddaughter, I'd never put her in danger. Now hurry, Robin needs our help."
The two women walked towards Guy's bed, and the knight lifted his eyes to look at them. Matilda thought that it was an improvement, a few days ago he would have kept still, staring at the trees.
She took the baby from Rosa, and she held her in her arms, showing the little girl to Guy.
"This is Alice, Rosa's baby."
"So?"
"So you are going to keep her for a while, while Rosa helps me." Matilda said, placing the little girl in his arms.
Rosa was startled to see her child handed to that dangerous, evil knight, and Guy had a shocked expression on his face, but he took Alice from Matilda's arms and he held her safely.
It's not the first time he holds a baby. Matilda thought, glancing at him, and once again she wondered who was the real Guy of Gisborne.
"Come, Rosa," she said and both the women turned their backs to Guy, disappearing behind Robin's curtain.
Gisborne looked at the child in his arms, and the little girl looked at him. She was very young, no older than a year, but she didn't look scared to be left with him. She grabbed one of the laces of his shirt, and she pulled it, giggling.
Guy held her gently, careful to not hurt her, and he thought that Matilda had to be insane to trust him with her grandchild, but not really displeased that she did.
For a moment, just for that moment, he felt at peace. He was aware that it was only because he couldn't remember at all the events of the siege and that sooner or later he'd have to pay the toll for those missing memories, but for now he tried to enjoy that quiet moment.

"Why do we have to keep him here?" Little John growled, looking at Gisborne, who was sitting on his bed at the edge of the camp, eating from a bowl. "The poor doesn't have enough food and yet we feed him."
Djaq took a bowl too and sat close to John, a sad look on her face.
"I know. But he needed our help too, we couldn't let him die, not when so many lives were already lost."
"He seems to be well enough now. He should go away."
"Matilda says that he's still too weak. To be honest, he didn't cause any trouble to us. He's very quiet."
Little John looked at his own food: he had the impression that every bit that he ate was stolen from one of the poor. Why should he feel guilty for eating a meal, when Gisborne didn't?
"Him, I don't like."
"I think that it doesn't matter anymore who we like. We, the few who are still alive, must try to help each other or we won't survive."
A wild scream from Robin silenced them, and Little John shook his head without speaking.
It wasn't right, he thought, Robin didn't deserve to suffer like that, not when Gisborne was getting better day after day. It was all wrong.

Guy let the spoon drop back in the bowl, hearing Robin's cry, and once again he wondered what happened to the outlaw. But even if he was curious to know, he was afraid to ask.
Knowledge could bring memories, and ignorance was bliss.
He didn't want to remember, not ever.
At night, his sleep was full of nightmares, he never woke up really rested, but mercifully he couldn't remember any of them when he was awake, and he didn't want to.
But Robin's screams were still terrifying to him, like the howls of a banshee, the promise of a sorrow to come.
The numbness in his mind made him feel empty, unable to feel deep emotions, but it was still better than the agony that was tearing Robin apart.
Guy felt the stare of Little John, so full of hatred, and he tried to ignore it. Somehow he could understand the outlaw and he couldn't blame him for it. He couldn't complain, his enemies had mercy on him, they saved his life and gave him sanctuary even if he had always tried to capture or kill them. If they despised him, so be it.
He looked around, searching for Matilda, the only friendly face in the camp, but he knew that when Robin was crying like that, the healer was probably at his side, trying to soothe his pain.
Guy noticed a movement, at the other side of the camp, and his eyes spotted the familiar figure of Marian, half hidden between the trees. The girl wasn't wearing a dress, but clothes similar to the ones of the other outlaws, and a shadow was half hiding her face, like a mask.
The Nightwatchman!
Guy was startled. He had never realized it, but now it was so clear and he wondered why he had never recognized her.
"Maybe I didn't want to see it..." he whispered, unable to avert his eyes from her.
He should have been angry, he should feel betrayed, but again he felt nothing.
Do I still love her?
He didn't know.
He wondered if he would ever be able to feel emotions again. He wasn't sure if he wanted to.
However he kept looking at her, remembering the strange words she had told him the only time she had talked to him after the siege.
She was in debt with him.
Guy wondered what that meant, but he didn't have the chance to ask her.
Marian's behavior was strange: she wasn't sleeping at the camp, but she was often there, especially when Robin was crying, like a moth attracted by a flame.
That wasn't strange, Marian loved Hood, it was normal that she wanted to be with him, the strange thing was that she never dared to get close to him. She stood at the edges of the camp, half hidden between trees and undergrowth, and she looked at the closed curtain, an expression of deep sorrow on her face. The other strange thing was how the others treated her.
Guy thought that it was normal that they treated him with contempt, it was right, they had always been enemies and they were even too kind to let him stay at the camp, but he couldn't understand why they looked at Marian with the same disdain they usually reserved for Guy.
Nobody, except for Matilda of course, looked at the girl, nobody ever talked to her, and Guy had the impression that they all avoided her.
Like a leper.
Marian had said that Robin treated her like a leper too, and Guy couldn't understand why.
If she was the Nightwatchman, and now Guy was sure that she was, Marian and the outlaws had to be allies, friends, why should they treat her like that?
Something terrible had happened during the siege, something that had changed everything.
Guy averted his eyes from Marian too.
He didn't want to know.