Chapter Three: Euphemisms

"If this is another "we're getting honey" situation I'm going to be sick and it's going to have nothing to do with the sea." Much huffed, throwing down his wooden spoon and leaving two plates still full of food to the side.

"Much, they were getting honey, they weren't even together then." Robin rolled his eyes, and John tossed a piece of bread at his head.

"That's what they'd have us believe."

"...Is this one of those things I missed?"

"When you were off selling us all to Gisborne? Yes, we all learnt what a euphemism is."

"A eu-what?" Allan stared blankly, looking between Robin, who suddenly looked pained, and John who just grunted and shook his head.

"It's when you use a sweet innocent word to mean something else." Much clarified, "Marian taught...Marian taught me that." Everyone's eyes darted to Robin, the tension suddenly palpable between them as their leader stared at his boots for a moment. He looked up slowly, dirty brown hair falling in front of his eyes.

"It's okay." He spoke softly, though his eyes clearly said otherwise at the mere mention of her name.

"Yeah…" Allan looked between Robin and Much and sensing the need to quickly move on from thoughts of Marian plaguing them all, quickly added, "I'm not being funny but we are talking about the same Will Scarlett right? Can't speak for Djaq but I don't think he even knows where everything is to begin with."

"Don't be vulgar, Allan." John grunted, turning his glare onto Allan who immediately held up his hands in protest.

"Much said it! I just mean that they're probably off fletching more arrows."

"Is that a-"

"No, Much! That's not a euphe-whatsit!"

Sometimes it was easy to forget that Will was only twenty-one years old. Except in rare moments of passionate anger, he possessed the moral maturity, and the cleverness of one much greater in years, and despite his tall and thin build was far from lacking in physical strength. He'd known the suffering and near starvation of most of the peasants in Nottinghamshire, and the great loss that came from a parent starving to death in place of their children, experiences that had aged him faster than a young man should need to. Far beyond his age, his firm grasp on truth and doing the right thing was nigh on par with Robin's and, like Robin had, he too had lapsed severely in the face of personal distress and let grief blind reason in favour of revenge. Everything he had gone through was written all over his face until one reached his eyes, wide and green and incredibly kind that sometimes still held that youthful innocence and wonderment when he saw something new.

It had been there when he had accidentally caught her bathing. It had been there the first time Djaq wore a dress to infiltrate the castle. It had been there when they tackled the Sheriff's strongroom. It had been there in Bassam's house when Djaq showed him the birds. It had been there in the saddest way the first time they thought Marian had died. It had been there, almost disbelieving, when Djaq admitted her love for him, and it had stayed there longer than ever before when she kissed him. She wished he could keep that look forever.

But when he slept, he did not look so hardened by poverty and a woodland life. It was not the kind of sleep they had all become accustomed to, ready to leap up at the slightest noise and hide in the trees, or to run to the aid of some unfortunate villager. It was a real, deep sleep born from exhaustion and complete happiness.
She smiled fondly as she watched him, felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, lean and painfully thin but muscular beneath her arms. They should not have done this. Despite the well established intent within each of them to marry one day, this was against both of their better judgement. But right now she did not care. It had happened and that was that.
The Saracen leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the Englishman's stubble ridden chin. She liked the contrast of their skin as she lightly drew a circle with one finger on his chest. The darkness of her olive skin against his very pale tone. His face and arms, like the rest of them, had burned and then tanned in the hot Palestinian sun, but even then, he was almost stark white.

The sacks of flour and grain crinkled as Djaq shifted her weight a little and adjusted the blanket over them and the movement seemed to stir him.
Will shifted, letting out a low, barely there snore and moving an arm over her back in his sleep. Perhaps it was that that woke him for he jerked suddenly and his eyes blinked open. Propping her chin on her hands, Djaq smiled up at him as his eyes found her and widened in apparent surprise. "Hello there."

"...So it wasn't a dream then…"

"It was not a dream."

And there it was. The same wide eyed wondering that made her stomach do backflips every time. She laughed softly and wriggled just enough to pull the blanket further up her bare back, suitably covering them both up. "Are you quite comfortable there?"

"Well I've slept in worse places than on sacks of grain."

His heartbeat had sped up again, she could feel it beneath her palm and subtly moved her left arm a little ways across her chest, not missing the way Will's eyes followed her every movement.

"I cannot believe that just happened."

"Well...believe it, Scarlett. Because it most definitely did." With a rather loud grunt Djaq rolled her leg off of Will's and curled up at his side, turning to look up at the lantern that swayed gently with each rock of the ship.

"Do you think it should have?"

"Definitely not. But it did."

Will let out a breathless laugh that Djaq quickly stifled with her hand. "Shh…it is a wonder nobody heard us as it is."

Warmth sparked through her shoulder as Will's fingers ran over it, tracing nonsense shapes that she suspected might have been his attempt at their initials if he could write. And then there was one she did recognise, the circle, and the bow within that was etched upon the tags they both still wore around their necks. Robin Hood's symbol. Will had come up with the whole idea for them himself. She still remembered the real burst of belonging within her when Robin had placed one around her neck, truly welcoming her into the gang.

"This can't happen again can it?" It sounded less like a question and more a statement of fact and she lifted her head to meet his eyes with a soft smile, "It shouldn't have happened this time. Not yet anyway. Not until we're…"

"No, I'm afraid I shall have to make you wait, now." She teased, with the hint of truth they both knew was there, and in one sudden movement sat up, holding the blanket against her chest to cover herself. "But I am glad it did, Will."

Obvious relief immediately flooded the carpenter's face as he reached up and brushed a curl behind Djaq's ear. "I love you, Djaq."

Catching his hand in hers she turned and kissed his palm. "I think maybe this once you can call me by my real name."

"I love you, Saffiyah."

Perhaps she did not mind her real name so much anymore. Perhaps it had been going back to Bassam's house, where all the painful memories of her twin brother came flooding to her that had begun it.

"Love, you're crying."

Djaq reached up immediately and wiped at her cheek, staring at the salty wetness that came away with it. She hadn't even noticed. Will sat up, the bags beneath them shifting with the movement and before he could pull her to him for comfort she gently placed a hand flat against his chest.

"It's okay. Happy tears. I promise. Now...we must go before they miss us."

Something that she could not quite place flickered through Will's eyes, something she silenced quickly by drawing him in for a final kiss.

Five minutes later Djaq slipped out of the storeroom, carefully looking around to be sure they'd not been seen before Will followed a few moments later.

"And where do we say we've been?"

"You, get back in your hammock and pretend to have been asleep. That's not even entirely a lie. I…" She knelt and gathered up a handful of loose arrows that had fallen from Robin's quiver. "Was fletching these arrows."

xxxXxxx

"Land! This. I like!" John bellowed loudly, drawing the eye of all the workers on the docks as he barrelled off the ship and onto English soil once more. After near four weeks on the sea, they had at last made port at Portsmouth. With any luck they could not be more than a few days behind the Sheriff's hasty return to his province.

"On both ways, John never did find his sea legs." Much laughed, clapping Little John heartily on the shoulder as they strode off the boat and drawing in an exaggeratedly long breath. "Smell that? Good old England…"

"All I smell is dead fish and manure from the stables over there." Djaq shook her head, rolling her eyes as she stepped past Much, Allan and Will chuckling behind her. "But you are right...certainly smells like England."

With early December, winter had begun. The trees, those that were not bare of leaves already, were orange and brown and drifting to the ground and the chill in the air was magnified by the sea breeze coming off the water. Smoke drifted from chimneys from nearby houses and the inn, and two gulls squawked and squabbled over a discarded fish head.

"It is three days ride back to camp, I'll see to getting some horses. John, Will." Robin jerked his head towards the stables, ushering the men to follow him and leaving Allan, Djaq and Much behind at the edge of the dock.

"You've come from the Holy Land haven't you?" A voice behind them made them turn. A woman, carrying an infant on one hip and balancing a basket of eggs against the other stood there, her eyes wide and full of hope as she looked at them.

"How'd you know that?" Allan asked, exchanging a look with the others to which Djaq just raised her eyebrow.

"Well, your clothes don't look very English and...also, her." The woman nodded, a little uneasily at Djaq but that was nothing the Saracen was not used to. The red headed child in her arms made a sudden lunge for the basket and with quick movement from Allan, he caught it before the eggs could fall to the ground and shatter.

"Yes. We have." Djaq answered, as the woman hurriedly murmured a thanks to Allan and looked at each of them in turn.

"Is there word from the King? Is he coming back?" The spark of hope flickered eagerly in her eyes. "Did you get to speak to him?"

"Yes...we...we certainly did speak to the King." Much cleared his throat and shot the others a look. Djaq shook her head quickly, this was not her mess to clean up and Allan just shrugged at him. Much had started to explain, he could finish it. "And we know that ...he...wants peace…" He continued weakly, his hands firmly on his hips the way he did when he was uncomfortable. "But no. He's not coming back...until then…"

The defeated look that came over the woman's face was near heartrending. Djaq was not even an Englishwoman and the few years she had lived freely here since being brought as a slave had told her everything about the tyrannical rule of Prince John in his brother's stead. It was not only Nottingham that was overseen by corruption.

"Sorry!" Much called, his face twisting into an uncomfortable cringe as the woman, defeated and downcast, turned and left them.

"Look, we did what we went for. We kept the King alive. That means Prince John can't take the throne."

"It is hardly stopping him from doing his worst anyway."

"This ain't his worst though, is it? His worst would be razing all of Nottingham to nothing."

The heavy sounds of hooves on the dirt road broke the trio from their conversation. Robin, Little John and Will had returned, each leading two horses by the reins.

"Impressive, how did you manage to afford six horses so quickly?" Djaq stepped forward, stroking the nose of the chestnut that Will led over to her.

"Well...technically speaking only three were for sale." He exchanged a furtive look with Robin who feigned innocence as he mounted the grey horse and slung his bow across his back.

"We borrowed the rest-"

"From very well off drunkards in the tavern." John finished, last to climb onto his steed which nickered and shifted a little under the unexpected weight of the huge man.

"Now let's go before they get wise!"

This did feel like home. The wind in her hair, sword clattering at her hip, the falling leaves and the winter chill as they galloped back towards Sherwood. All that was missing was the soldiers in pursuit and Gisborne yelling at his men to catch them, and perhaps a few poorly aimed arrows flying over their heads.
Maybe Will had had a point those weeks ago on the ship, perhaps she did regret a little not staying with Bassam, but being back here, in the trees and knowing that tomorrow they would go back to stealing from the wealthy and taking care of the poor, Djaq was more sure than ever that her place was here for now.
And for now, as they rode on, it was just the old gang again, as if they had never gone away. They laughed and talked of things that were not the King and the Sheriff and Marian. For now it was normal, and she cherished those moments with her friends.
She closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of the wind on her face, a smile spreading over her features as slowly she let go of the reins with one hand and then the other and kept her seat in the saddle only with her legs.

"What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

She laughed loudly and opened her eyes to see Much staring at her from his bay stallion that kept pace with hers, "No! I am living!"

"Living in the realm of the fairies maybe!"

Childishly she stuck out her tongue at him and briefly caught Will's laughing face in her peripheral vision. Flaunting her recklessness even further, she turned as much as she could in the saddle while keeping her horse straight and grinned straight at him. The horse beneath her whinnied in protest and with a disobedient toss of his head effectively made her spin around and seize hold of the reins again, pulling firmly until her horse slowed his pace a little.

"Cor, Djaq, you didn't come this far to die falling off your horse."

"I was not going to fall." She scoffed at Will's remark, briefly defensive until she heard him laughing and mock glared at him in return.

"Do you think the camp will still be there?" Allan asked, drawing a loaf of bread from his saddle bag, tearing off a chunk for himself and tossing it to John who began passing it between them.

"We were only gone two months, Allan, not two years."

"Yeah, but that's if the Sheriff's men haven't burnt it to the ground."

"Did you forget the Sheriff was exactly where we were? It was kind of the point of going." Will asked, nudging his horse into a trot to keep pace with Allan just in front of Djaq.

"We should move it anyway. I do not think old Vaisey could find it again himself, but all the same…" Robin called back from the front of the group. "We should not stay in one place much longer, and we do need more secure stores."

"Yeah...sorry about that." Allan sheepishly grinned, and seemed to ignore the glare that Much was giving him, "But you know I never gave away the camp."

"No, no Little John handled that bit himself."

"Much, stop that. He was only trying to be kind, and I was there also." Djaq interrupted, unsure whether she was defending John or sparing Much from taking a staff to the head.

"That's right you were! Why didn't you stop him?"

"Me? I'm a quarter of his size. He could pick me up in one hand."

"Not after what happened to the last guard who tried that to you." John finally spoke, the first words he'd said that were more than a single syllable the whole ride thus far, to an immediate burst of laughter from the rest of the men.
Far from offended Djaq was really quite pleased with herself. She may be small and slight but any of the unsuspecting guards, or indeed mercenaries, who dared to underestimate her quickly regretted it.

"Watch out, Scarlett."

"Watch out, A-Dale." Djaq tore off a piece of bread, passing it across to Much and then throwing a piece at the back of Allan's head.

"You know, I think I missed the bickering most of all, more than any of you. Anyway, did you hear that Will? You are going to have to whip us up another camp as clever as the old one."

"I don't mind. It was nothing."

"Perhaps something with a stable so we can keep a horse or two?"

"Horses are a lot harder to hide than people, Much. I can hardly work miracles."

"I don't know...those weaponised instruments were pretty miraculous to me."

"Many things are miraculous to you."

xxxXxxx

"Djaq! Come and join us?"

At Robin's behest, Djaq popped up from behind the rock which she had been using as cover as she toyed with the light and teased Much who had reluctantly promised to fast if his God sent him a sign.

"For good?" She hopefully asked, plastering on a matter of fact expression, taking it for granted that they would accept her. Even amongst her people, she did not quite belong here, and she did not quite belong in the Holy Land.

"Well…I was thinking just for dinner, but…"

"I was thinking for good. Perhaps I should have let your big friend here die, huh? Then there would be a vacancy."

"It wouldn't be safe for you…"

The Saracen shot a look of daggers at Will, the quiet one when he spoke up, looking directly at her as he spoke. She might have gotten away with it if he just stopped talking then and there. But he had seen her wash, he knew she was no man,her secret was already broken.

"For us...or for him?" Robin tentatively said but Djaq saw the slightly suspicious look in his blue eyes as he looked at her somewhat oddly. She avoided the leader of the gang's gaze and instead resumed glaring at the other one who still kept his gaze on her.

"For her." And three things happened at once. The big man, John, dropped his jaw like a broken hinge, Robin started to laugh in a way that made her think she had suspected it all along, and the others both turned and stared wide eyed first at Will and then at her.

"I thought as much...what is your name? Your real name."

Silence. The Saracen closed her eyes and opened them again with a quiet sigh. It was spoiled. They would not want her to join them now they knew she was not a man. But she was more than prepared to argue that if they protested.
"Saffiyah." She answered at last, and quickly added "But I prefer you to call me Djaq."

"Well…anyone have a problem with a woman joining the gang?" Robin asked loudly, and looked around at each of his men in turn. There was a quick chorus of muttered "no's" and the four other men all shook their heads.
Djaq let out a long sigh of relief, although she was somewhat surprised that no one had an argument, it was a welcome change. She smiled, a real smile the truest she had given in a long time since before she had been bundled off on a ship bound for this country.

"Welcome to the gang, Djaq."

At first it had been strange. Not for her so much, but it was clearly an adjustment for the men. She caught them elbow each other several times when someone made a remark they deemed a woman might find inappropriate. If there was an extra blanket at night she was offered it first even if she was not cold, or any extra food that might be left. Much asked her opinion, albeit only once, on his stew, which he never did again after being reminded that despite being a woman, she could not cook very well. Allan once or twice made the mistake of attempting to show her how to shoot an arrow, to which she promptly fired one between his legs. Will, for a good week or two couldn't look her in the eye for long, and though she had forgiven him for the accidental peeping, seemed truly repentant long afterward.
On her own part, Djaq at first, like she had for three years since her brother had been killed, continued her insistence on behaving as much like a man as she could and rid herself of any femininity that she could. This was made difficult, and undeniable, on the weeks in each month where she became undeniably moody and more fierce than usual. On those occasions she was grateful that men did not know a thing about that part of her. She refused any special treatment she suspected was just because she was a woman out of an innate desire to belong and instead made herself as useful as could be serving as a physician and scholar among them.

But as the weeks turned into months, they grew used to each other's company and comfortable, perhaps sometimes a little too comfortable if she were honest, friends where once they had been acquaintances, and it was not long before the band of outlaws in Sherwood Forest became like her family. She made inseparable friendships in each of them and after the uncomfortable start they had had, particularly with Will.
Slowly, she let down some walls, allowed herself to know that these men accepted her for exactly who she was. So in time, Djaq too embraced who she was and, though she kept her brother's name, stopped trying to deny how she was and would always be a woman.
When Allan's brother was hung too early for them to be able to save them, she comforted him, reopened the old wounds in her own past and empathised with him. The first time she had spoken of Djaq in years.
Her appearance changed too. She stopped cutting her hair so close to the scalp where she had always kept it trimmed in disguise and began to allow it to grow out again. Next she stopped binding her chest, something which her body thanked her for relieving it of the pain in favour of comfortable support and, chose and made her own clothes to enable much freer movement. She was unapologetically feminine but woe befell those who underestimated her for it.