Chapter One : The Return Journey

1193 - November

If anyone had told Will Scarlett two years ago that he would journey to the Holy Land, meet King Richard the Lionheart, save King Richard the Lionheart, and journey back to a life in the forest to fight crime with more crime with a gang of other outlaws, he'd have been whiter than the flour he'd stolen from the Sheriff. Yet the wooden deck of the ship beneath his feet was real. The wind that filled the sails and guided their path was real. The splashing of the salty waves against the wood was real. And the sounds of a huge bear of a man heaving over the starboard side was definitely real.

"Allan, Much, help him sit." The soft lilt of the Saracen's accent brought Will back from the daydream he'd slipped into and he turned his head to see Much and Allan each hoist Little John by the arm and guide him over to lean against the pile of grain sacks around the mast.

"I'm not being funny, but I don't feel so great either." Allan, who himself looked a little green around the gills grunted as the big man slumped down groaning. Djaq crouched before him, holding out a cup for him.

"Drink. It will help the seasickness."

Djaq. Saffiyah. Whether she preferred her own name or that of her late brother's she was beautiful. No woman in the world held a candle to her in his eyes. She wore the clothes of her homeland now, loose trousers and a tunic of pale blue that reached her knees and contrasted her olive skin in the loveliest way. Her black hair that she was growing out curled and tickled the nape of her neck. Still Will struggled to believe that a woman as lovely as she truly could love him in return. She turned then, as he watched from the side of the ship and her brown eyes met his green ones for a moment before she smiled and turned her attention back to Little John.

With Much's steadier hand to help, he had swallowed down half the contents of the cup with a disgusted grunt. "That...I do not like. "

"I assure you it is much less disgusting than bile, Big Man."

"Yeah could I 'ave some'a that if he's done?" Allan, who in the span of just a minute had turned far greener, reached out and took the half finished cup from John, finishing off the liquid without a second thought.

"Sit. You will be fine, you have done this trip once already and you have another four weeks yet."

"And I shall be glad to be back on English soil again, I can tell you." Much shook his head, getting to his feet and dusting off his hands on his trouser. "No offense, Djaq, but between the Crusades and this...I've had quite enough of the Holy Land for one lifetime thank you."

"None taken, Much."

Chuckling quietly to himself the youngest of the gang turned his eyes back out onto the sea. He'd never gone further from Loxley than Scarborough before their greatest adventure yet had taken them so far. Will ran his hands through his dark hair, longer and scragglier now with travel and over his chin, the messy stubble that never seemed to grow further than his thin moustache. Slowly his gaze moved from the sun beginning to sink lower on the horizon, to the figure which sat, unmoving and alone, at the very front of the ship.

"How is he?"

"Hasn't even moved all day. Don't think he's eating."

"He isn't. I took him that plate of food this morning." Much nodded in the figure's direction, sure enough an untouched plate of bread and fish sat beside him. "I just wish he'd...say something to anyone. You don't think there's anything we can do?"

"Well we can't bring Marian back…" Will's voice trailed off as sadness once again laid its heavy weight over the ship. The grief was heavy in all of them, and unbidden tears sprang back to his eyes but Will did not let them fall. For however much they grieved Marian's death, it was nothing to what Robin was feeling. "You know that's all he wants."

"Yes...yes you're right. Of course. You know, I miss her, I really do."

"We all do, Much. Just give him time."

Marian. Lady Marian of Knighton, and in her final moments, Lady Marian of Loxley. Her absence, though she'd never spent more than a few days in the forest with them, was felt by all of them. She'd risked everything to help them, and given her life to save the king. Robin had lost her too many times to count, and now for good, had to hold her in his arms as she died.

A sharp stab of grief ran through him as he thought over it again. Will had only just found his love, only just learned that she reciprocated the feelings he'd harboured in secret, to imagine losing Djaq like Robin had lost Marian was too much to even think of.

"Well, speaking of food...Little John doesn't want his so if you're still hungry I'd get to it before Allan does…" Much clapped Will on the shoulder heartily as he stepped away towards the rear of the deck.

Ever the quiet and contemplative one, against Much's philosophy of speaking before he thought, Will just smiled and nodded. He lingered a few moments longer before tearing his eyes from their grieving leader who sat still as stone staring at the ocean and turning to join the rest of the gang. They were only a day out of port, and the journey here had taken close to four weeks by ship. Perhaps by then John might have found his sea legs again.

He drew over an empty crate and flipped it upside down to use as a seat between the recovering sea sick man and Djaq who had busied herself grinding leaves and herbs into a fine paste.

"How you feeling, John?"

Little John just grunted in answer, his head leaning back against the mast and eyes closed as he fought the nausea.

"Just pray the water stays calm for us and John will be just fine." Djaq spoke without looking up from her task. Every so often her elbow would brush Will's shoulder and he felt the familiar spark of warmth that ran through him every time she so much as touched him. It was strange to be out of the habit of subtly moving away so he did not give himself away and go back to silently pining for her like a puppy. Something which he had been compared to multiple times by the lads when Djaq wasn't around, usually by Allan up until his allegiance had changed.

Allan a Dale. The primary reason Will had never admitted his feelings to Djaq until mere hours before they were to face certain death. Any hope he'd had had been crushed a year ago when Allan admitted his own feelings for the Saracen in the very same breath that Will did.

"You are thinking about one man. I am thinking of the whole of England." Robin's words cut deeply, though his mind was warped with anger and hatred in that moment for the bound Guy of Gisborne he believed to be a traitor, he had forgotten to have the backs of his own gang.

Now Djaq was in the Sheriff's dungeon, probably being tortured and Robin did not seem to care.

"Djaq is not one man." Will spat out angrily, his normally bright eyes glaring fiercely at Robin as they looked on in shock at what their justice driven leader had become, "She is a woman. Have you even thought what could happen if the Sheriff realises?"

"Djaq is a woman? The Saracen?" Marian interjected, momentarily taken aback from the severity of the situation by the unexpected revelation.

"Yeah, long story." Allan interjected, holding up a hand to keep from inviting more questions from Marian in the moment as Little John just scowled at Robin.

"Robin. We go to Nottingham."

"Now hold on. I agree we need to get her back, but we could be walking straight into a trap." Much added, his wide eyes flickering between his changed former master and the rest of the gang.

"True. But it's Djaq."

"It's Djaq." Will echoed Allan's words, his heart thundering wildly in his chest as every part of him itched to run towards the castle immediately. How Robin could even entertain the idea of leaving Djaq, one of the lads despite being a woman, behind to rot in the dungeons, was a notion he would never usually consider.

"Well what does that even mean? 'True but it's Djaq', that's not even an answer."

Trap or no trap it did not matter. Every minute that they wasted was another minute that Djaq could be held in torture, and if they wasted more time arguing about it than Will would just have to go by himself. The tension was rapt in the air, and he caught John's silent and critical stare as he looked back and forth between the men. Allan beside him sighed, and ran a hand through his light brown hair,
"Look, the thing is…" he started and then finished, at the same moment that Will spoke without thinking. "I like Dja-"

"I think I love her."
He'd blurted out the words before he'd realised that's what he wanted to say. The words that had hung over Will for weeks, that he'd been too afraid to admit to anyone. And then, as he spoke them aloud, only then did Allan's words register in his mind. In unison they turned and stared at each other and Will's thundering heart sank right through his boots in the uncomfortable silence that followed. Much's jaw had dropped in surprise, and John's eyes looked as though they were about to bulge out of his head.

Will had barely turned twenty, and until now had never had the proximity or the time to develop feelings for any of the village girls from Loxley. They'd been too busy finding ways not to starve, and the memory of his mother flashed through his mind briefly. Perhaps then it was inevitable that spending every hour of the day in the company of the Saracen, fighting alongside her, learning about her, had grown into something more. He'd not been in love before and now he accepted that he was, there was another vying for her affections too.

"Well...well...even so…"

Though they never spoke about it, there was an unsaid wedge placed between the two close friends that day.
In his own mind, what hope had shy young Will Scarlett the carpenter's son against Allan A Dale's charms and cunning? It was Allan who could flirt his way to stealing a noble-woman's purse. It was Allan who could smuggle any information he wanted through one or two barmaids in the tavern. Will was awkward, and before a woman had joined their gang, barely could speak two words to a girl. Even when Allan was exposed as a spy, it was Djaq who so desperately, and rightly it turned out, believed he could change for the better and redeem himself. So Will told himself it was Allan, if anyone, that Djaq would fall for. He'd been so very wrong.

Even now, he felt eyes on him and looked up from where he picked at the lump of bread on John's untouched plate, to find Allan watching them. Though he said nothing, his eyebrow raised slightly and he nodded. The corner of Will's lips twitched up a little as he returned the gesture. There was no bad blood there now. After showing his true repentance, and despite many a frequent jibe from Much, Allan had been welcomed back with open arms. Allan had been the first and closest friend Will had made in his life, and all it had taken was to come close to hanging, being outlawed and running away into the forest.

"What's that? More seasick medicine?" Will asked, leaning closer to sniff the green mush in Djaq's mortar as she reached into the bag at her side and plucked some lavender flowers.

"It is for Robin. It will make him sleep...restfully." The Saracen woman answered, tearing the lavender in her fingers before she added it to the mortar.

"He won't take it. He won't take anything." Much muttered, fiddling with the long thin sleeves of the Saracen tunic he'd been given.

"Well then I shall give it to you and perhaps you will shut up."

Will chuckled and even John opened one eye and smirked at Much who just rolled his eyes. "It is lucky I am not easily offended by you lot. Though why I put up with any of you…"

"Yes yes, we've all heard it." Djaq laughed softly, pinning a cup half filled with water between her knees and beginning to scrape her concoction into it.
The scent of the lavender filled the air around her, just one of the lovely things that, though she fought every bit as ferociously as a man, made her always a woman. Though they all lived together in the forest, stinking of mud and sweat and trees, somehow Djaq never did. Admittedly she certainly bathed a great deal more often than the men, but instead of the forest smells of moss and wood, she smelt of lavender and peppermint and rosemary, and every other herb and spice she used in her remedies.

"Will? Hello?"

He didn't realise he had drifted so far away until Djaq snapped her fingers in his face and he leapt back into the presence, She pressed the cup and a wooden spoon into his hands. "Stir this please, I left one more thing below deck."

"Right. Yeah…" He shook his head to clear the thoughts that filled his mind at any given moment and began to stir as she stepped by him.

"Could you be any more obvious, mate?"

"Honestly, it's revolting." Much looked disgusted at him, and Will's eyebrows shot up indignantly.

"Oh, like you and that Bonchurch girl?"

"That is...that is irrelevant, you don't see me prancing about like a lovesick puppy every chance I get."

"I'm not prancing like anything."

"Let the boy be, Much, you're just jealous."

"Jealous? I am not in love with, Little John."

"That's not what John meant and you know that." Allan scoffed, catching Will's eye, who had stopped stirring in his distraction and making a gesture of stirring with his finger.

He quickly kept stirring, but kicked out sharply from his crate and nudged the side of Much's foot. "Shut it."

"All I'm saying is keep the mushy stuff to yourselves, the rest of us don't need to see that."

"Don't need to see what?" They spun around as Djaq stepped out of the entrance to the hold, her eyebrows disappearing into her raven coloured hair as though she knew exactly what the men were talking about. In her hand was a sprig of pale pink flowers which she crumbled and added to the cup as she plucked it from Will's hands. No one said anything and Much had the decency to cringe a little. "That's what I thought. Will, come and help me, this will work quickly and I shall not be able to carry him myself."

"Right, yeah. Of course." He rose from his crate and followed her toward the bow of the ship where Robin sat.

Robin was a pitiful sight. His blue eyes still rimmed with the red of tears that had long since dried but still clung to his cheeks. His shirt was so torn and limp now that it hung halfway off one shoulder as his arms wrapped around his knees drawn halfway to his chest. In his right hand was clutched Marian's engagement ring and the sole of his right boot looked as though his foot would soon push right through it. He, along with John, had refused a clean and fresh change of clothing from Bassam, the Saracen friend that was the closest Djaq had to family that was left.

Robin did not look at them as his friends approached, and took so long to blink that Will feared for a moment that he had somehow died on the spot.

"What?" He said at last. The first word he'd spoken to them since boarding the ship.

"Robin? You must sleep. You need to rest." Djaq said gently, placing one olive skinned hand on his shoulder which Robin immediately shrugged off and shook his head.

"I cannot sleep. I do not want to sleep."

"This…" Djaq held out the cup and for a second Will saw Robin's eyes flicker toward her, "Will help you. You will not dream, you will only rest peacefully."

"I said I do not want anything, Djaq." Robin repeated, his tone far more forceful this time but Will and Djaq only exchanged a concerned look over his head before she persisted with it.

"Robin. You must sleep. Do this for us."

"I said no."

"She's only trying to help." Will added, stepping around to kneel on the other side of their leader "We're worried about you, Robin."

"Do not be. But if I sleep, I will see her, and I cannot face that now…"

"Robin, you're seeing her anyway, aren't you?" Will asked softly, watching the way Robin clutched the ring in his fingers, "Let Djaq help you…"

"Every moment." The grieving widower replied after a long moment and fresh tears slid down his cheeks. "And it is everything in my power not to throw myself over the side and join her."

"...Then drink this. Please…let us help you."

Slowly, with an audible cracking of joints, Robin stretched out his leg, and reluctantly took the cup from the woman. "I will not dream?"

Djaq shook her head and Will held his breath hopefully as Robin swilled the liquid around for a moment. Bits of valerian sprigs floated to the top. Then quickly, in one swift movement as though he were afraid of his own mind changing, Robin lifted the cup and downed two hearty gulps of the sleeping draught. Will released his held breath and smiled over at Djaq as she quickly took the cup back.

Robin ran a hand over his exhausted face and tucked the ring into his pocket so it would not fall from his grasp. He fixed first Will and then Djaq with a long stare and what might have been the shadow of a smile in the very corner of his mouth. "May neither of you ever know this pain, my friends."

She had been right, it was fast acting. Only another minute past before Robin began to droop, his shoulders slouching and head dropping forward onto his chest and jerking back up as he fought the sleep that tried to claim him. Finally he slid sideways, eyes closed and slumped against Will's chest, breathing evening out for the first time in two days.

"What did I tell you?"

"You are good." Will grinned. Sliding an arm around Robin's waist he rose to his feet and hoisted the sleeping outlaw with him, supporting his weight until Djaq took his other arm over her shoulder and supported the other side. Together they carried him across the ship and down the stairs that led to the sleeping quarters. A dozen hammocks and a few cots were laid out, a few belongings scattered here and there where beds had been claimed.
Stepping over Little John's staff as it rolled back and forth with the soft swaying the ship, they carefully hefted Robin into the corner hammock. His bow, recurved in the manner of Saracen make, and quiver lay beneath him and sword in its sheath stood leaning the corner beside Much's weapons. The bed swung heavily at first with the new bodyweight as the fabric moulded itself to Robin. Steadying the hammock carefully, Will stepped back, his eyes full of pity as he looked back at Djaq.

"Do you think he'll ever be alright after this?"

"I cannot say. How could any of us know? We all of us have lost people we love but never a…"

"Yeah. Stupid question, I know."

"But sleep will help him. Come, sit with me." She took his hand in her small one, intertwining their fingers and led him to the foot of the stairs. Just wide enough for two bodies they sat together, side to side and joined hands resting on Will's leg, in companionable silence for a few moments before she turned a little and rested her chin against his shoulder. A pleasant tingle ran up and down Will's side where their bodies touched. It was still all so new to him, new and exciting and a feeling that he'd never had before. But at the same time he didn't know how much would change now. Before they were just a gang of outlaws, friends, stealing from the rich and giving hope and food to the poor. Will loved that life, had fought tooth and nail not to be taken from it when his father had come to take him home, but it was a dangerous one. They had all had their turn in the Sheriff's dungeons, even on the gallows, Will had been up there twice himself, and always, every day they were willing to die for Robin and justice. Now he had so much more to lose, so much more reason to fear for her safety more than his own.

He turned and pressed his lips to her hair, tasting the salt of the sea spray there.

"Bassam spoke to me before we left." He spoke suddenly, and Djaq lifted her head to look at him, "Made me promise to look after you. Protect you."

"He did? And what did you say?"

"That you don't need protection." He smiled when she laughed, a delicate sound that she would hate to hear sounded so terribly feminine.

"Good answer, Will Scarlett."