So this is the end of this journey to the Holy Land for Will, Djaq and Allan, as it is the end of this story. It started off as just a germ of an idea, and one written page of text. But thanks to the insightful commentary of Biancaneve, Ravenya03 and Wenrom31, it turned into something longer and, I think, better. Many thanks to my trusty beta reader Cressida, who did a terrific job with this story, even though she's not familiar with the fandom.
Beginnings
A week later
She was never sure how it happened. Even years later, when she thought back on it all, it never made a great deal of sense to her. But somehow she and Will had gone from barely speaking to each other to speaking almost only to each other. It was not that they were intimate, exactly, for they had shared no more than a few shy kisses, awkward and uncertain, but full of promise. But they were content, and as they walked the length of the ship's deck together, the silence between them was filled not with trepidation, but with a newfound hope.
Hope. It did not take Djaq long to realize that hope was the thing that ultimately brought her to Will. Although still very young, he had already lived a life's worth of tragedy, and yet had somehow remained unmarked by it all. Her own losses, the great deprivations of her life, had made her harden her heart against the world, all but shutting out the gentler emotions that marked her childhood. But hope still flourished in Will's heart, and it was like a beacon that drew her ever closer to him. She felt happy in the knowledge that though she could find little hope in her own heart, she could at least share in his.
Often, in the evenings, they sat on deck, tucked away in a corner where nobody could see them, in a place where they could pretend the rest of the world simply did not exist. Most nights, they would use this rare solitude to talk, almost always about the past, if only because this kept any discussion of the future at bay. She would tell him about her childhood, the people she had known and lost, the people who might still welcome her back when they arrived in the Holy Land. In turn, he would tell her of his own life, of what it had been like to grow up in Locksley, poor but somehow happy. She was amused by his tales, and even more by her own visions of Will as a young boy, impish and charming, before life and death and the inevitability of both had intervened and changed him forever.
Tonight, the sky was so clear that Djaq thought she could see nearly all the stars in the heavens. She had been surprised to discover that Will already knew a thing or two about stars. He could identify a few constellations and name the stars in them, although he did not know their proper Greek terms. For her part, she tried to teach him what she knew of them, which was little enough that soon they were evenly matched in their knowledge. Still, the scholar in her could not resist the temptation to test Will, so every now and then, she pointed at a star and asked Will to name it. He was more than equal to the task and even seemed a bit amused by it all.
"What's that one?" She leaned back against him, and she thought she felt his shoulders shake a little in silent laughter.
"That one? It's Orion." She turned her face to his, pleased that he had remembered. He gave her a crooked grin. "Orion, the carpenter."
She chuckled, swatting the hand that rested at her waist. "Do not be so cheeky, Will Scarlett! There are…consequences."
He laughed, and she turned to face him with the idea of scolding him with mock seriousness. Although it was dark, she could see the expression on his face, a mixture of amusement and affection and something else, something far more raw and intense, and she turned away, old fears and doubts returning at an alarming pace.
She returned her attention to the sky, trying to find the lightheartedness they had shared just moments before.
"That one, the really bright one. What is it?"
Will did not hesitate. "That's the North Star. And I knew that one before you told me about the stars. It's how travelers find their way home."
Home? Djaq stiffened, a sudden thought taking shape in her mind. Home was not a place or a destination. It was a feeling, the emotion that came with being around those who were familiar and comfortable, those who cherished you in spite of your many sins. Home was…Will. And Allan too.
She turned her face towards Will. "You know, it reminds me of you."
"What?" He was still smiling, but he seemed a little bewildered.
She lifted a hand to his cheek. "The North Star. It reminds me of you…steady and constant, helping people find their way.
In the dark, she could barely make out his smile, his expression of slight embarrassment at the unexpected compliment. But then she felt his smile falter under her fingers as he gently moved her hand away.
"You're going to ruin this by talking about Allan, aren't you?"
Djaq sighed. They had spoken of so many things, but Allan was the one thing Will resolutely refused to discuss. A few weeks ago, she might have put his reluctance down to a petty and childish jealousy, but now she suspected that it was something that ran far deeper. Will had not yet recovered from Allan's betrayal, and she began to think that perhaps he never would, at least not completely.
She tried to focus her thoughts, to come up with a good argument that would persuade Will to see Allan differently.
"Why are you so stubborn, Will? Why will you not talk to me about Allan?"
She pushed herself away from him and turned to face him.
He said nothing, fiddling with his tool belt and not meeting her eyes, so she decided to try a different tack.
"He loves you, you know."
Will looked stunned, but recovered quickly. "Djaq…"
"And you know, deep in your heart, that you love him too. You cannot be whole without him. This," she gestured in the space between them, "cannot be right without Allan."
"That's not fair."
"It is perfectly fair. If it were not for Allan, we would not even be here! You and I…we would never have this chance."
"Is it all just so easy for you, then? To forgive Allan?" There was an angry edge to Will's voice now, and Djaq braced herself for a long argument. "He had a chance, so many chances, to make things right, but he waited until the very end, didn't he?"
"Not everyone is like you, Will."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
She ran a hand through her hair, exasperated. "It means that not everyone can…it means Allan is not like you. He does not see truth or lies the way you do."
"No. Allan only sees what is best for him, and nothing else matters."
"You can be very unkind when you put your mind to it, Will Scarlett!"
The change in her tone of voice was not lost on Will, and he was almost immediately contrite. "Djaq, I'm sorry…I never…"
She ignored him. "You are right about Allan though. He does see only what is best for him. But that is because he has never had anyone teach him right from wrong. He has never had anyone to show him."
She reached out and took both his hands in her own. "Do you not see, Will? Allan is lost in this world. And you have to be his star, the one that shows him the way home."
He frowned and did not speak for a long moment. "Why me? Why not you?"
"I have made my peace with Allan. And he knows it. It is your turn now."
--
Three days later
Allan knew he was dreaming. This was a surprise in itself, since he rarely slept long enough to have dreams. But tonight, he was in that strange place between sleep and wakefulness, able to savor the dream while knowing that he could snap out of it whenever he wanted.
In the dream, he was running through a green field behind a small English house in a small English village, playing tag with a little girl. She had ribbons of blue silk streaming from her hair, and although Allan ran faster than her, he could never quite catch her. His fingers would just graze the ribbons before she ran out of reach. Somewhere in the distance, perhaps from inside the house, he could hear the voice of a woman, full with laughter, calling him inside. It was a pleasant enough dream, but it annoyed Allan that he could not catch the girl, or make out the voice of the woman calling to him.
"Allan….Allan!"
The voice was persistent, and as the dream began to dissolve away, it struck Allan that the voice was not very feminine either. He opened one eye and found himself squinting into the face of Will Scarlett.
He sat up, disconcerted and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Will. Wha...has something happened?"
"No. I just thought….well, I wanted to talk to you." Will frowned and then pointed at Allan's face. "What happened to your eye?"
Allan shrugged. He had forgotten that he was now sporting a rather spectacular bruise under his right eye. "I got…a bit too lucky playing dice with one of the sailors."
"Ah." Will seemed relieved somehow by Allan's misfortune, perhaps even amused by it. Allan found himself fighting to quell the urge to strike him, even as Will dropped down on to his haunches next to Allan.
"I hope you at least won a lot of money." Will smiled, but it did not quite reach his eyes, and there was something forced and awkward about the way he was looking at Allan. It struck Allan that this was the first time since Portsmouth that Will had made any effort to speak to him. He's trying. That's worth something, I reckon.
"I did all right, but it's not really about that. The thrill is in playing the game." And cheating…at least until you get caught. "It's like when you finally end up with the girl you want, but you realize it was actually more fun just to chase her."
Will paled at this, and Allan cursed himself for bringing up such a topic.
"So. What was it you wanted to talk about?"
Will hesitated for a moment and then fished something out of a pocket and handed it to Allan.
It was small and flat and utterly unmistakable. Allan knew what it was even before his hand made contact with the wood, smooth and familiar under his fingers. He felt a lump form in his throat as he traced the famous pattern with the tip of a finger.
"Is this my…"
"No." Will turned away, looking out on the sea. "I tried to find it…after you…left."
Allan nodded. It was the sort of thing Will would do, or would have done before things changed, before everything went wrong.
"Where did you find the wood? You didn't cut into the ship's mast or something, did you?" Allan laughed, but even to his own ears, it sounded forced.
Will smirked and shook his head. "It's from an old barrel or something. Figured it didn't really matter to you what I used."
"Well, thanks. I mean….it's a…thanks. I probably needed a new tag anyway."
"Yeah." Allan waited for Will to say more, but he remained silent and just a bit on edge. Eventually, he got up and dusted himself off, ready to leave.
"Listen, Allan….I have to be going."
"So…did Djaq put you up to this then?"
Will had the grace to be genuinely surprised. "No, of course not." Then he shrugged. "Not really, anyway. She doesn't know."
Not being funny, but Little John tells better lies.
"We're square then? You and me?"
Will watched Allan intently for a moment, eyes narrowed and brow furrowed as he thought it over. "Yeah, I guess we're…square."
"And Djaq too, right?"
Once again, Will hesitated just a little before answering. "I'm sure. You always were, anyway…square with her, I think."
"Yeah. She's good like that. You and her both." He looked down at the tag, marveling at how a little piece of wood could change how a man felt about himself. "You two, you're like…
"Allan…don't."
"No, mate. It's not what you think. I just wanted to say that I think it's a good thing. You two belong together." Allan heard himself speak the words, surprised at how easily they came off his tongue, for all the pain it was costing him to say them. "You're like two halves of something." That's the thing about halves though, innit? There's only ever two of them.
Will looked bewildered at first, but then he collected himself and gave Allan an uncertain smile and a half-hearted clap on the shoulder.
"Yeah. Thanks."
They did not speak for the next several minutes, and Allan began to fidget, uncomfortable with all the silence. It was Will who ultimately broke the tension.
"I really do have to go now." He began to walk away, but Allan called out to him, forcing him to come back.
"So does this mean I'm forgiven, then? By Robin, I mean?"
Will shook his head and then shrugged. "I don't know. I can't really speak for Robin."
Allan suspected he looked crestfallen, because Will's expression immediately softened. "Look, Allan…Robin is….well, he's different. Just the fact that you came back is not going to be enough for him. You'll need to prove things to him…prove that you can be…er…trusted."
Allan nodded, vaguely amused that Will was giving him advice, but thankful for it all the same. He slipped the tag around his neck and held it up. "So what does it mean, then?"
"I don't know. You probably don't need to think about it so much."
"Yeah, you're right. It will sort itself out, I guess."
Will nodded and began to walk away, but then stopped and gave Allan a frank look. "I think…I think it means that…whatever else you might be, you'll always be one of us."
He didn't wait for Allan's response, which was fine, because Allan was not sure he had a fitting one this time. He watched in awe as Will walked away, and snatches of the dream he'd had earlier came back to him.
It was a sign, he supposed. No matter how hard it was to get where you wanted to go, there was always something, someone, even a pair of someones, waiting for you at the end of it all. Things were going to be all right.
***
