Chapter 4: Three years
Author's Note: I am not well versed on Old English History, I apologize for the historical inaccuracies that are sure to follow.
I am borrowing the concept of 'work camp' from the scene at the end of the movie, but I am unsure if this existed in Old England or what that entailed.
You can't always choose what road you take in life, it has always been Robin's perspective to make the best of whatever life throws at you. The Sheriff was right that he could no longer loose arrows like he used to but it made him no less a rebel rouser. In the work camp he did his best to raise spirits, spread hope and help remind people to stick up for one another and hold each other up.
His new life was similar in some ways to the one he led before, but in many ways it was different. The scars and marks he now holds reflect the hard life he'd walked these last few years, but he tries not to focus too much on them or let his scars define him.
The fire had left his fur singed and it had taken a while for new fur to grow to replace the burnt edges, though it never grew back quite as soft. He had burn marks around his eyes from where the fire had blinded him. His right shoulder bore the scar from the arrow that pierced him, and the infection that had plagued him afterwards had in fact left him weekend. But Robin decided to let none of this stop him.
Some would say it was cruel to sentence a blind man to a work camp, many in fact did say this. Robin did not know how to handle the pity he met, nor did he know how to navigate this new and dark world he now found himself in. Never the one to give in, Robin pushed through. It took time but he learned to navigate the world around him using his other scenes. He learned to 'see' the world around him through new eyes. He relied keenly on his sense of smell, hearing and touch, and with time even developed a bit of a sixth sense sort to speak.
To 'pay off his debt to the crown' Robin had been sentenced to hard labor. Most of the other prisoners were there because they couldn't pay taxes or because poverty and hunger had forced them into theft. Nottingham was not the only area facing such tyranny it would seem and it saddened Robin's heart to hear the trials his new friends had faced. He helped cultivate a sort of community with those in the camp. By standards working off a debt was better than prison, but being unable to see where he was going, what obstacles were before and even what he was doing was both cumbersome and dangerous. Although he did learn to overcome his obstacles and found ways to turn his new difference into a strength, some injuries and trials occured before he truly learned to navigate the new world around him.
Nearly three years had passed since his sentence when he received word that he was to be released. None of the guards had thought he'd last this long and everyone was happy to hear he'd be set free. Since King Ritchard's return, two years ago, many had been released from work camps and prisons, their debts forgiven. Surprisingly Robin had been one of the last to be released. He surmised that the record of his arrest and sentence was non-existent or buried, known only by Prince John and the Sheriff.
When Robin was finally released, it struck him that he wasn't exactly sure where to go. After all, he couldn't just resume the life he had before. He didn't feel like he could just pick up the broken pieces of his life and paint himself back into the picture. His friends had assumed him dead for the last three years. If he had once thought it awkward to walk up to maiden Merriam and say "Hey remember me we were kids together, you want to get married?" then it was much more ridiculous to return home after all this time, after all one did not just say "Hey, remember me? We used to rob from the rich to feed the poor? Well, I'm not dead, that was a lie .By the way I am completely blind. Mind if I weave myself back into your life?"
Pulled from his wanderings by the crackling of the fire, Robin scoffed at the thought. Sitting on a stump, toasting his hands by the small fire he couldn't help but think back to the ridiculous line. Just as he'd joked with Little John all those years ago about what one does not say to a fair maiden one hasn't seen in years, the thought of just how he'd explain his absence and appearance seemed just as unthinkable.
When he was released he didn't exactly know what to do. He was finally a free man, he had no warrant on his head anymore (though he doubted anyone would recognize him as Robin Hood anymore). Although he was at a loss of where to go, he knew he needed to find work. After all the world hadn't changed that much in three years, one still needed money to live. Being blind he was limited in what he could do and to no surprise no one wanted to hire him.
Robin scoffed, as he thought back to those hard times. He had worked hard labor for years, he was very much capable though convincing potential employers of that fact was a different matter. He'd been lucky to find work on a nearby farm. Though admittedly the farmer paid him less than he would have anyone else, a job was a job. Robin knows that he surprised Brent with his work. Robin pocked at the fire forlornly. He knew that there were things he had to do differently, and disadvantages he had to face being without his sight but he was also tired of people treating him as though he couldn't do anything.
Robin let out a sigh. Sitting back he pulled his paw through the fur on the top of his head, as he allowed himself to really think about what he was doing. Deep down he knew that he couldn't go back to the way things had been before. He feared he'd never be able to go home in any sense of the word. Despite all that, he craved it with every essence of his being. He missed his home, he missed Little John, he missed Merriam!
But was it right to just turn up after all these years? Blind? They had grieved him, thought him dead. To turn up now after nearly three years just seemed..cruel.
"It isn't by my doing" Robin mumbled to the fire, feeling anger at the crafty Sheriff. Robin closed his sighless eyes with a breath.
No. He wouldn't do that to his friends. His family.
His death was greatly exaggerated, to no extent by Robin himself, but that didn't mean he wanted to cause those he truly cared about any further heartache by revealing himself now.
Yes he wanted, needed to 'see' his family again, know for himself that they were alright, that they were doing okay. He didn't need to make himself known just to pass through and check on everyone. They probably wouldn't even recognize him, Robin reasoned to himself. He could just portray himself to be a blind traveler passing through. Robin shook his head at the irony of the situation as it was quite similar to the disguise he used to use to fool the Sheriff, and now he was considering using it to fool his dear friends.
Oh what his life had come to. A humorless chuckle bubbled up from his chest.
"I wonder how Merrium is" he smiled wistfully into the fire. He truly hoped she was happy. Despite the pain in his heart at the mere thought, Robin hoped Merriam had everything her heart desired, even if it meant she'd settled down with someone else. Robin closed his eyes, he hoped whoever held Merriam's heart treated her well, that she was happy.
And what of Little John? He hoped his best friend was happy. He wondered if his brother had settled down, gotten married and started a family. He hoped so. He so wanted Little John and Merrium to be happy. He wanted their lives to be full of joy, even if he couldn't be a part of it. Robin felt a pain of sadness stab at his heart at the thought.
Did he really need to stay away?
Robin let his hand ghost over the scars around his eyes. The plan was to just pass through, stay a few days a week at most and head on toward the country north of there. He had some money left over from his work at Brent's farm and with some luck he could find more work elsewhere. Robin let out a sigh. He couldn't be selfish. He had no right to crash into his friend's life after all this time. As much as he wanted it, he couldn't stay. It should be enough allowing himself this glimpse. He needed it to be enough. His friend's happiness came first. He would be alright as a ghost. He wasn't there to stay, just haunt them for a week.