Robin did not return from the village but the staff slowly came back so she did not waste away the morning. She helped Winnifred with the chores and helped John turn out the horses but after a simple soup for lunch, she was met by the long faces of Walter's man John.

"My Lady, we have washed him and dressed him."

"Thank you, John," she muttered. "I will dress and we shall take him to the Oak Tree, I think. He enjoyed it there when he could."

"The master's men said they'd sort the pyre," he said shortly, with a wobble in his voice. "I'll send Thomas to the village to tell them."

She nodded and he left them to it, moving up to her room and staring at the sheets that had not been moved. They did not bother her room, she had always insisted she could do it herself, but she was thankful for it at this moment. Robin's scent seemed to brush up against her as she stood at the door and as she heard someone climbing the stairs, she closed the door behind her, afeared of their giggles somehow.

The staff were not insensible, they knew what was going on, but they did not have need to know this. She wanted to keep it to herself. Keep it within the sanctuary of this moment. She withdrew and moved to her dressing chamber and pulled out her best dress. She had worn it to send off Robert when he left, and it matched her mood. She left it undone and called for Maggie, who brought Winifred with her. They braided her hair and did up her ties before she sighed and slipped on her ring. It was hers now. She knew Robin would not quibble over it, so she wore it with pride.

She nodded to the two and slipped down the stairs where she looked at the day and her dress and waved off the carriage.

"I will walk, John, thank you."

He nodded and the rest of the household got into the cart. They left her to it as she wandered out of the gates behind them. She had known he was near death, anyone who knew him, knew that. But she had never really considered being without him. She smiled, despite her tears, as she recalled his grumbling. And the way he knew, without doubt, that she watered down his wine.

She heard the hoof beats of a nearing horse and looked up quickly to find Robin dismounting before the horse had even come to a stop. She smiled sadly as he let out the reins and stepped beside her, offering his arm and kissing her hair quickly as she leaned against him.

They did not speak as they walked and by the time they arrived at the Oak, everyone was assembled. She knew she would need to speak and she was not ready. She had not found that strength yet and when they turned to her, she was certain she ceased breathing.

"Walter was a good man," Robin said quietly. "A kind man, who loved his kin as he loved you all. He was a Lord in all aspects, a man of honour and pride, but he was also a man of peace. Of intelligence, that knew most of what you were thinking before you, yourself, thought it. He was a great man, but a better," he paused and her heart broke for him. "A better father. And he will be missed."

"He was more than most of us deserved," she managed. "And I will miss his calls for more wine for many a day yet." The group tittered and Robin's hand on the small of her back gave her more courage. "He treated us all as we were worth and he loved us. And though he was taken from us by a coward, he fought bravely, even though foolish, to the end."

She watched John wipe away a tear but did not draw attention to it. Walter's man was a stoic man, but he had loved his master almost as much as she had.

Friar Tuck spoke the final words and she stepped forward, climbing the bales and leaning over her father. For he was that, in all things but blood. She cupped his cheek and wished she had said so many things to him before she said her own prayer and left her posie in his hands.

"Godspeed, my Lord."

She stepped away from the pyre as the men lit it and stepped in front of Robin where she leaned against him. He stepped forward a little and though she ached for his hands around her stomach, the comfort he gave her was enough for now. She watched as Walter burned, shifting slightly as his armour stuck in her back. It was then that she noticed Robin's men off to the side, armoured and wearing their weapons as well.

"What are -"

"The French in the channel," Robin muttered. "King John calls for us."

She bit back a number of different words that she would have liked to utter about King John and his ilk, but she was still a woman of court and therefore knew she could not. She could see the regret in Robin's eyes and she knew it was not his fault. If they were to remain English and not French, they would need Robin and his skills on the battlefield. And she knew it as well as he.

"Go," she muttered. "We will be fine."

He smiled and nodded to his men. Alan rode off ahead, followed closely by Will. John kissed his woman hard before he too followed and most everyone else left them alone. She watched him settle his saddle and affix his bow properly but her fingers picked at themselves until she could no longer hold her tongue.

"Once before I said goodbye to a man going off to war. He never came back."

The fear was audible even to her and he paused, stepping away from his horse to stand before her. She watched his thoughts muddle and then clear and he smiled at her, in that way that made her want to as well.

"Ask me nicely," he whispered.

She knew they were before everyone. Knew the servants would talk for weeks about it and knew the Friar was there as well, well aware that Robin was not Robert, but she cared little. She stepped into him, felt his hands on her waist and leaned in to kiss him softly. As soon as their lips met, visions of her morning fluttered across her senses and she kissed him properly, matching his vigour with her own.

He seemed shocked as she rubbed his nose with her own but she did not meet his eye. She couldn't, not after that. Instead, she inspected his cloak, running her hands over his shoulders and finally, over his face. Committing to memory the feel of him beneath her hands. He stared at her, and she could see the happiness in his eyes and she kissed him again, hotly, swiping her tongue along his before pulling away with a smirk.

He squeezed her hip softly and mounted his horse. As it spun, ready to gallop off towards his men who had waited at the mile marker, he spun around and stared at her.

"I love you, Marion."

Her heart thumped in her chest as the words echoed around her. He loved her. And not in the way that was fleeting and base. She knew that. Knew it like she knew her own name. Knew it like she knew something else as well.

That she loved him as well.

Immediately a plan came to mind that would be as wild as it was foolish, but she was never one to back away from foolishness.

"John, take us home. Now."

He frowned but didn't comment, doing as his lady commanded him. She jumped from the wagon as they came in the gates and unyoked the horses.

"I need you to do something for me," she said sternly.

He eyed her and then nodded.

"I want you to suit me in Robert's old armour. The one above the fire."

"My Lady," he said in warning.

"I know it is folly, John, but I will not stand idly by while my hus -" she swallowed. "He goes off to war."

"My Lady," he said quietly.

"Again," she added stupidly.

"We all know he is not Robert, My Lady," John chuckled. "I do not like this plan at all. No matter Robin's prowess and your bravery, a battlefield is no place for a lady."

"If I were to fall, John, you will all be fine. If Robin falls, I will not be."

She had not meant to give such candour but she could not regret it as John stared at her for a long time before he nodded. He went with her into the dining room where they got Robert's old armour down and suited her up. She changed into her riding clothes, plaiting her hair so it would sit beneath a helmet. She groaned when they fitted the mail, praying against all hope that it fit and then groaned again when it did and the plates were installed as well.

"My Lady, I beg you."

"John, I am going. Take care of the house."

"On your own, my Lady, please."

She looked out of the door as he pleaded with her and across the fields to the forest.

"No, John. Not alone."

She saddled up her horse and rode it across the fields to where she knew Loop to stay during the day. She expected him to pop up from nowhere so she sat on the edge of the forest and merely waited for him. He was cautious and she realised he would not know that it was her.

"Loop," she called. "I ask an audience."

He popped up along the way as she lifted the visor. He stared at her in confusion and pulled off his own grotesque mask.

"What are you -"

"Robin has gone to fight for the King against the French. I will join him. I offer you the honour of joining me."

He made a noise and a number of shadows emerged as well.

"Saddle your horses and bring your weapons. They will have steel and wood but we have the element of speed. Your ponies will handle the terrain better.

"Where are we going?"

"The coast. We shall make it quicker than they. They are many, we are few."

"My lady!"

She turned and saw James riding up, wearing armour, not unlike Robin's.

"You'll need a servant, My Lady. I insist."

She smiled at him and nodded, seeing the sense in it. She turned back to Loop as their horses were brought forward by a number of the smaller boys.

"I will take nobody younger than 12," she ordered, staring at a few of them. She changed tact as Loop looked at her searchingly. "The village will need protecting."

He nodded and ordered his men accordingly before they saddled up and left for battle.