Just so you know, this is my favourite chapter out of the whole bunch. Why, you ask? Because it has Robin and Marian and fluff and angst and basically everything I love of this fandom -hopefully. I hope you'll like it too. It's also the longest, because of course it is. It's Robin and Marian -how coul I resist?
Thanks again to everyone who's taking the time to read this, whether they are reviewing or not. It really means the world to me, even if I don't always show it replying to reviews in time.
THE GREATEST ADVENTURE
(IS STILL TO COME)
CHAPTER SEVEN.
Everything hurt. That was his first thought.
The second one was that he shouldn't hurt. He should be dead.
He opened his eyes with a great deal of effort and was met with a pair of bright blue eyes hovering anxiously over him.
The wrong shade of blue.
"Robin?" the eyes asked. "Robin, can you hear me?"
He was absolutely drained of energy, so when his eyes slipped closed he made no effort to stop them. There wasn't much to look at, anyway.
"Robin!" the female voice asked again. At the same time, he felt some footsteps nearby, a thumping sound, like a body pushing another out of the way, and muffled voices that seemed to be coming from very far away. He also felt fingers gently poking into him, trying to jerk him awake. Somewhere deep within, he noted that there were too many fingers for them to belong to the same person, but he didn't pause to think what that meant.
So close, he thought. He had been so close to ending it all, so close to being with his wife again. His skin still prickled where she had touched him -or at least, where he had thought she had touched him. It had felt so real …
"I'm not dead," he remarked, eyes still closed. His mouth felt heavy, but his mind was becoming clearer by the second, so he felt the fingers stopped moving and he could sense at least a couple of bodies inching closer to him.
"What?" Kate -for he knew now that it was her who sat on the edge of his cot- pressed.
"I'm not dead," he said again. His tone did not convey even a hint of happiness for such development and when he finally mustered enough energy to open his eyes again, they were hard. " Why am I not dead?" he demanded.
Kate flinched slightly at his icy tone, so unfamiliar to her, and recoiled just a little bit as if stung. She had not expected that kind of reaction from him -he was supposed to be relieved -maybe even happy. He was alive! -what more could he ask for?
But he wasn't relieved. He was most certainly not happy. He was mad and disappointed, but most of all, he was terrified of the prospect of having to live his life without Marian. Again.
He saw Kate's face fall, but not a single fibre in him felt like reassuring her. He held on to his anger, because if he didn't, he would have to face the void that he knew his life would become. He needed to feel that anger -he needed to feel something .
"I-" Kate started to say, oblivious to the complete and utter heartbreak the man before her was feeling. She was promptly interrupted, though, before she could think of anything else to say.
"Tsk, tsk," said a different voice from Robin's other side. "I save your life and that's the thanks I get?"
His head turned in that direction so quickly that it hurt, but he didn't care. He met Djaq's amused expression and his jaw dropped.
"How are you feeling, Robin?" she asked him seriously, her fingers gently tracing the scar on his neck.
He was more curious than he'd thought he'd be at seeing his friend in England, and even more that she was back at the camp. But curiosity was not enough to fill the abyss that was his mind, his heart, his whole being . So he held on to his anger and pushed whatever questions he might have had out of his head for the time being.
"Like I should be dead. Which apparently I'm not ."
"I remembered you being more cheerful -must have been wrong."
"And I remembered you being away. Must have been wrong too."
"Anything hurt?" she continued, taking one of his arms in her hands to examine it and paying no attention whatsoever to his bitterness, much to his chagrin.
" Everything hurts."
The woman chuckled slightly and continued her examination, but otherwise ignored his sour mood. This, he knew well, was no accident: Djaq had always been capable of reading him like a book, and she knew that the best way to deal with him when he got like this was not to play along. His inquisitive nature would usually win over everything else in the end.
She wasn't wrong.
In the face of Djaq's frustratingly collected manner, he was forced to acknowledge a million questions that a big part of him needed answers to. He wanted to know what had happened to him, how it was that he was alive and what on Earth was Djaq doing back in England, after working so hard to get back to her own homeland.
But most of all, though, he wanted to know the meaning of the voice he could faintly hear, breaking its way through his mind.
Come quick, Djaq, help , it said. It sounded distant, like he was hearing it from a very long tunnel. But it was familiar -achingly so.
"You were poisoned," Djaq informed him, sitting gingerly on the edge of his cot, her arms crossed over her chest. "I was almost too late." Her pain was undeniable, and so was her resentment. "You could try to be a little more careful when I'm not around."
"You shouldn't have bothered," he muttered, looking away from her and fixing his eyes on a spot overhead. "You should have let me die."
She gave out a throaty laugh that made him look back at her. He was surprised to see her face breaking into a grin and her eyes shining with a somewhat familiar mischief.
"So they've told me. I'll keep it in mind for the next time. This time, though, since you weren't conscious, I had to do as your wife instructed me."
His blood turned to ice inside his veins. His heart, lethargic as it had been beating for months, picked up its pace and was now pounding against his ribs at an impossible rhythm.
Wife, wife, wife .
"Marian."
He hadn't realized that he had spoken out loud until he saw Djaq smile in a cat-got-the-mouse kind of way.
"Do you have any other wife that I don't know about?" she asked with a wink. She got to her feet and took a step back.
Robin tried to sit up, but was too weak to do so. He didn't care. Propping himself on one arm, he opened his mouth and was about to demand she told him why -or more importantly how - it was that his dead wife might have had a say in his well-being, but it was at that precise moment that he realized that his other arm was being firmly held on his side by someone.
Not some one. Not just any one.
He turned his head slowly, half eager, half terrified of what he might see when he did. His eyes landed on a hand -a small, delicate hand, with long, slender fingers and a ring that was too big on her fourth finger.
His eyes traveled across the hand, along the pale arm, to her shoulder, her collarbone, up her neck and jaw before finally setting on her eyes, he bright blue eyes -the right shade of blue, his mind screamed-, eyes that were staring down at him with such love that it made him want to cry.
Robin, I'm not dead , he heard the voice say, and this time it was accompanied by imagines: the same blue eyes looking utterly terrified up at him, her small hand on his cheek, her heart beating steadily under his fingers.
He had been hurt enough to know that he was going into shock. His mouth felt dry, his breathing shallow. He could feel darkness creeping in, but he refused to yield. He had to stay conscious.
"Marian?" her name on his lips was half a question and half a prayer. His fingers trembled as he gripped her hand with all the force he had left, terrified that she would slip away if he let her go.
"As she lives and breathes," Marian admitted, aiming to lighten the mood slightly. It didn't work, though, for Robin continued to stare dumbly at her.
"You're alive," he said. Utter relief washed over him for a second, before realization dawned on him. "You're alive ," he said again, his eyes slightly unfocused, as if he were looking at something far, far away. "I was poisoned and I almost died . I thought I was going to see you again in the afterlife, but you are not dead. You are here and you are alive. " The words came in low and quick. He was starting to realize how close he had come to losing her again.
She placed one hand firmly on his cheek and leaned closer to him, trying to rid him of the panic that was obviously engulfing him. Though her heart ached for him, she kept her tone light, as she had seen him do a thousand times over the years, every time she had felt sad or lost.
"I know ," she pointed out. "I was the one who found you, in case you've forgotten. There I was, minding my own business, and suddenly there you are, talking about how you knew that you would find me again and that you knew that your wife would come to greet you in the afterlife. You scared the living wits out of-"
She didn't get to finish her idea. Calling upon every ounce of strength he had left in his body, he rose to a sitting position at the same time as his free hand flew to her neck, pulling her towards him. She fell against his chest, pushing him against the hard surface of his cot, and he let go of her hand to snake his around her waist, pulling her closer still.
He kissed her deeply, hungrily, wanting - needing - to make sure that she was real, that she was there and that she was his to hold. She replied in kind, every bit as moved as he was by their recent near miss. His hand roamed up and down her back and hers moved just as eagerly down his chest, before coming to rest just above his heart.
Their friends were trying to show their support by staying out of the way as they got reacquainted with each other, but such a kiss was not to be shared by a couple -however married they might be, or how much they had missed each other- in public, and the rest of the outlaws were starting to feel just a little bit uncomfortable.
Allan cleared his throat, which made the couple remember where they were.
Robin groaned, which made Marian chuckle, but she did pull away - reluctantly - from her husband. She sat with her back against the wall and helped him do the same. They looked a little more proper -certainly not as if they would start undressing each other at a moment's notice-, but remained awfully close, with one of his arms firmly wrapped around her waist and his other hand held tightly in both of hers.
"So," Robin began conversationally, struggling to focus on their audience and not his wife's warm body pressed against his side. "Anyone going to tell me what happened?" It was said to the group at large, but his eyes did linger on Will when they found him. After all, he assumed, he had had something to do with his wife sudden resurrection.
It was the young man who replied, telling him the same story he had shared a short while before with the rest of his friends and making sure he understood that they had had little to do with Marian's initial survival, lest his famous temper find a way to blame them for something that had clearly not been their fault.
"You see what this means, right?" Tuck asked when the story was done.
Robin had listened in silence, his expression becoming darker and darker with each word that came out of his friend's mouth. For the longest moment he didn't say anything, he just sat there, his hand drumming incessantly against Marian's upper thigh.
"I do," he said at last, slowly -carefully.
Most of the outlaws were struck by his tone, but it was only Much and Marian who recognized it for what it was: dangerous . A storm was brewing within him.
"Great! So, I propose that some of us should start making our way towards Vienna and you can join us when you feel better. Your wife will want to stay with you, and Much too, but the rest of us-" Tuck continued, oblivious to this.
"Nobody is going to Vienna," Robin cut him off. He met Tuck's eye and continued. "I mean, you may do as you like -and everyone else for that matter. But if you expect me to join you there -or, more likely, if you expect Robin Hood to embark on a rescue mission for the King in Vienna, you're in for a big disappointment."
"You're still weak, I know, but when you feel better-"
"No! Robin Hood stays here."
"Robin, it's the King!" John tried to reason. Now that his friend appeared to be reasonably safe, he could agree with Tuck that they needed to focus on their sovereign's safety.
"The King can rot in prison for all I care."
The outlaws were horrified at such blasphemous statement, more so because it was coming from Robin, of all people -Robin, who had always been loyal to Richard, who had gone to great lengths to ensure his safety, his return.
He met their gaze with a dark, defiant expression. His whole body was tense, daring them to try to change his mind.
His expression was gloom enough to deter everyone else from pushing the matter further for the time being -even Tuck, desperate as he was to rescue their rightful sovereign. All but Marian, who knew him too well to be fooled by him.
"Robin, we both know you don't mean that, so cut the act," she pointed out, fixing him with a stern look.
She pressed one of her hands to his cheek and his whole demeanor changed -his expression softened, his body relaxed. He entwined his fingers with hers and met her eyes, but she was surprised to find anguish in them, not mirth.
"You are alive," he said again, needing to remind himself over and over that the nightmare was finally over and that his wife had come back to him. "All these months you've been alive, and I've been here, believing you dead, counting down the days until I could join you, and all the while, you were there, alone in the desert."
"I wasn't alone -Will and Djaq were with me."
He smiled at her -one of those cheeky grins that had been absent from his face for so long.
"Because Djaq saved my life, I'm trying very hard not to think about the fact that they knew you were alive and didn't tell me," he chanced a glance towards his friend who shrugged in response. Then he continued: "But there's no excuse for what the King did. He knew how I felt, he knew I would have given everything to get one more second with you. He knew you -my wife, my heart, my life - were alive and still he didn't tell me. I deserved to know."
"And then what would you have done? You would have dropped everything and rushed to my side!"
" Yes , you're damn right I would have! You're my wife, I should have been there with you."
Marian could sense his temper rising and she could tell from past experiences that they would end up in a fight unless she found a way to calm him down. Their friends were once again studiously ignoring them -it was up to her to bring him back from the brink. He was still weak -there would be plenty of time for one of their famous arguments when he felt better. For now, he needed to focus his energy on getting healthy again.
She took both his hands in hers and started rubbing her thumbs across the palms of his hands.
"I know how you feel," she told him softly. "If it had been the other way around, I would have most certainly wanted to be with you. I would have sat by your side day in and day out and the whole world could have been burning down for all that I would have cared. But the King was right not to tell you, first because he didn't know if I was going to make it and then because there was no guarantee that you would have made it before we came back.
"Besides, your place has always been here, in England. Your peasants needed you here and you were more help to them that you could have been to me. You did the right thing, Robin, even if you didn't have a choice."
"I'm sick of always doing the right thing," he muttered, but Marian could tell that he had calmed down significantly. He had seen her point -as she had known he would. Robin was not an idiot.
Djaq decided to take the opportunity to examine her patient again. She checked him for a fever -which he didn't have- and made sure that the several cuts she had made were healing nicely -which they were.
"You should rest," she finally instructed. "You've had a difficult day."
Robin chuckled as he allowed both women to help him lie down.
"You can say that again."
Marian lay next to him, her head on the hollow of his neck, her arm wrapped across his chest, pulling him close to her. They were the picture of ease.
"For what it's worth," she commented lightly, exhaustion finally getting to her as well. They had been traveling non-stop for weeks, ever since that dreadful day in Vienna, and she had spent the last few hours in a barely-contained panic -of course she was exhausted. "I wish you had been there with me. Actually, if I'm wishing, I wish Gisborne hadn't tried to kill me in the first place."
The change was immediate -she noticed it at once. His whole body went tense again and his breathe caught in his throat.
"Gisborne," he hissed.
She had half a second to brace herself before she was roughly dislodged from him as Robin -with a shockingly swift move, considering his recent brush with death- jumped from the bed.
"I'm going to kill him," he announced to no one in particular. He caught sight of Gisborne -who had had the sense of staying out sight of his former enemy-turned-reluctant-ally- and moved as if to pounce before his path was blocked by John. "I'm going to kill you," he said, pushing against the larger man. Judging by his tone of voice, it was clear he meant it.
"You're not going to be killing anyone today, Robin." John explained patiently. "Go back to your bed."
Robin did not move.
"Robin," Much tried. "You're weak, you need to rest."
"I will rest," Robin agreed. "After I've killed Gisborne!"
He made it to move again, only to be blocked by John -also again.
"I don't understand -you didn't kill him when you thought he'd killed Marian, why would you kill him now?"
Robin looked away from his prey long enough to glare at Allan, who chuckled in return.
"Not helping," Will pointed out.
"Wasn't trying to."
Between John and Much they were eventually able to force Robin back to his cot, but he clearly wasn't pleased. He looked as if he were calculating the best way to get passed his guards -which he was.
"Robin, be reasonable," Marian urged.
When he heard her voice the anger drained from his body and when he turned it was true panic that shone in his eyes.
"Marian, I am so sorry," he said, with so much urgency that Marian wanted nothing more than to cradle him to her chest. His words came out quick and desperate, as if he needed them to get off his chest or else he might die of them. "You have to believe that I had no intention of letting him live -when I came back I was ready to murder him in cold blood and damn the consequences. But then… Then I realized that he was in hell -that he actually wanted me to kill him and bring him some respite- and I didn't want him to get off so easily.
"Still, I should have killed him. I wanted to, so many times. But then my father -my father is alive, did they tell you? My father told me about Archer and I -I just couldn't do it."
She had already forgiven him for admitting her would-be killer into their midst -she didn't have a choice, after hearing the whole story from Much and Guy- but it was only now, hearing the words from his own mouth, seeing his pain rolling off of him in waves, that she really understood what it had been like for him, forced to work every day with a man he hated with all his might, remembering every single day of what he had done, what he had taken from him.
"I'm really, sorry, Marian. Please know that I've had to live with myself all these months for not killing Gisborne when I had the chance."
He looked small and scared -so unlike the Robin she was so used to. For a moment she hated herself, for making him look so hopeless, but she reminded herself that all was well. He would never have to look like that again -she was with him.
"I admit it was a shock seeing him," she laid her head on his chest as she talked, comforting and taking comfort from him at the same time. "But I'm not mad at you for failing to kill him -not really. I would have understood if you had, but I wasn't lying when I told you that I would never support killing."
"Gisborne would have deserved it."
"Perhaps, but there's no use thinking of that right now."
She was right, of course. He hadn't killed Gisborne when he had had the chance, so now he would have to learn to live with him. Besides, he had more important things to focus on than Gisborne.
"You look exhausted," he commented after a while, his eyes intent on her face. With all the shock of her resurrection, it was only now that he was taking a closer look at her.
"I know, I've had a difficult day -my husband almost died in my arms today."
He chuckled but tighten his grip on her waist.
"I can understand what that feels like," he admitted. "We make quite the pair, don't we?"
"Indeed! What would we do without Djaq?"
As if on cue, the Saracen appeared in their line of vision.
"I hope for both your sakes that you never have to find out," she said, inciting another chuckle from the pair on the cot. She smiled too, pleased to see both her friends so at ease. She had only had a glimpse at Robin's heartache during that first painful week but she had seen plenty of Marian's. Seeing both of them laughing again gave her more pleasure than she could express with words. "Rest, both of you."
"What are you guys going to do?" Marian asked, already half asleep. "The camp is not big enough for all of us."
"We'll figure something out, don't worry. Now sleep. You're still healing too."
There was no reply, not that Djaq had been expecting one. She checked Robin's vitals one last time and then walked back to where the rest of her friends stood discussing their sleeping arrangements.
"I can build a bigger camp, but it's going to take time," Will was saying when she reached them.
"We still need something for the near future. There's no way all eleven of us are going to fit in this camp," Tuck pointed out.
He was right. The original camp had been built for six. Marian's occasional addition had never posed a problem because she had been sharing Robin's bed for years, ever since they were but kids and Robin had gone to Knighton well after dark to share with his friend the details of his day. Sharing a bed for them had always been about so much more than the physical act of love; it had been about being together.
Tuck and Kate had taken the spots left vacant by Will and Djaq when they had stayed behind in the Holy Land, but now they were back. Also, for the past few weeks, Guy had been sleeping in a pallet on the floor, but he would eventually need a spot if he was to stay -as would Archer. There was no way their current camp could house all of them.
"There's the cave," Allan suggested. "It's not the most comfortable place, but it's dry, and reasonably warm. We used to camp there before this was built," he explained to the rest of them.
"And it's close by?"
"A few yards down east."
"Then I suggest we divide ourselves into two groups," Tuck decided.
"I'm staying here with Robin," Much announced. "You should go to the cave," he added to Gisborne. "Marian seems to have quenched his thirst for blood for now, but there's no telling how he's going to react when he wakes up."
Guy was not a fan of being told what to do, but he did see Much's point, so he reluctantly agreed to relocate.
"I'll go with Guy. Maybe it would be wiser if you stayed with him, just in case he takes a turn for the worse during the night?" Archer said to Djaq tentatively. He was still unsure of his place in the gang, especially with the turn things had taken lately. He was eager to talk to someone about everything -maybe Guy or better yet, Robin. For now, though, he would have to follow someone else's lead.
"That's a good idea. So Much, Will and I will stay here while the rest of you-"
"I want to stay too," Kate jumped in.
Everyone turned to look at her.
"Kate-"
"What? You think that just because his so-called wife is back I should quietly leave him? He almost died today, he's not thinking clearly!"
"He is , Kate!"
Kate's bright blue eyes blazed and she looked ready to press her point. However, outnumbered as she clearly was, she allowed herself to be shepard away by Archer and Allan -for the time being, at least.
Once their party was out of the camp, the remaining outlaws set about making the necessary arrangements to ensure their safety for the night, however unlikely they were to be attacked after the events of the day. Finally, they went to sleep.
Will and Djaq reclaimed their old spots. The beds were hard, the blankets not thick enough to battle the cold. Still, neither one of them would have prefered to be anywhere else.
"It's good to be home, isn't it?," he said.
Djaq simply smiled in return.
