This is the last chapter in this story, hope you enjoyed it.
Chapter 10 – The Funeral Of A Friend And A Father.
Djaq grabbed many different liquids and poured them down Robin's neck. Hitting his stomach desperately trying to get him conscious again.
"He's not going to make it is he?" Freya whispered, sobbing onto Marian's shoulder.
"Don't give up hope darling," Marian told her softly, trying to stay strong.
"Father!" Freya began to scream, "Wake up!"
Djaq quickly felt his wrist, searching for a non-existent pulse, he was ice cold and no breath passed his lips. Djaq bowed her head sadly, and the gang backed away to give the family some space.
"Robin!" Marian whispered, her voice rising to a wail, "Robin, Robin, Robin! I love you!"
Freya flopped onto her fathers chest, taking in his scent, the smell of cooked rabbit and mud which she had come to love, as she had her father.
"Dad?" Freya asked softly, "Please come back."
Tears poured down each of the outlaws faces as Little John silently left the camp.
"This can't be happening!" Freya screamed, running out of the camp.
"I'll get her," Much said reassuringly to Marian, who sat back down beside Robin.
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Much followed Freya deep into the forest until the little girl collapsed onto the forest floor and began to sob.
"I know you're here," She told Much softly as he approached, "Why won't you leave me be?"
"Because you're my best friends daughter, I'm going to miss him too," Much said, a tear rolling slowly down his left cheek, "I know what you're going through."
"How, how do you know? He was only your friend, not your father!" Freya screamed at Much, her voice breaking as the grief dug at her heart.
She began to hit the forest floor with her fist and screamed, "Why! Why, why, why!"
"Freya," Much said softly, placing and arm around the sobbing child, "My father was shot, when I was only seven, I do understand what you're going through."
Freya looked up into the mans grey eyes, seeing the sadness deep inside them before she flung her arms around him and he rocked her to and fro, waiting for her crying to subside.
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Later that day Freya and Much returned to camp, the girl joining her mother, whose face was pale, but ready, for the evening ahead.
Little John had built a grave under an old oak deep within Sherwood, somewhere they would be able to visit him whenever they pleased.
John began to lay the limp, cold body own into the grave, all the outlaws bowed there heads as the small thump indicated there leader had reached his final destination and then John began to cover over the grave, tears leaving clean tracks down his otherwise dirty face.
"We are Robin Hood," John said softly, stepping back.
"We are Robin Hood," The others murmured before turning away from their leader, their hero and their friend.