"It's…been a long time," Robin continued. I scoffed.
"That is an understatement," I backed up, leaning against my bureau to both emanate a nonchalant appearance and for support so I wouldn't faint.
"M—"
"So, how was the Holy Land?" I cut him off.
"Bloodthirsty," he answered after a few moments. I looked into his eyes. They showed anger, hurt, and the ghosts of a violent past. Not the past that I was a part of, the past that he left me for. I fought the urge to comfort him. I would not break down so easily. Instead, I simply nodded.
"How long have you been back?"
"A couple of weeks," he replied. It certainly didn't take him very long to get on the Sheriff's bad side. I remained silent. I did my part, now it was his turn to talk.
"So, how have you been?" he asked.
I gave him an incredulous look.
"I've been better," I replied.
"I've really missed you, Marian," he said. I stared at him as he walked over and took my hand. I immediately pulled away from his grasp. I could see where he was going with this.
"Did you really think that you could swoop in through my window, charm me with your silver tongue, and things would just pick up where they'd left off?" I asked.
"Well…yes," he replied. I laughed. I outright laughed in his face. I tried to find joking in his eyes but there was none. He was completely serious.
"As you said, Robin, it's been a long time! I've changed, you've changed," and he had. His hair was longer and lighter. He was taller. Much taller. His arms were toned and more muscular than they'd been when he left. I could see faint scars from battles past. He left a boy and came back a man. But his eyes, his eyes were still the same. And somehow, I knew his smile was, too.
But that didn't change anything. I continued with my rant.
"When I needed you most, you weren't there for me," I finished. His eyes gave away confusion, so I clarified.
"When your mother died, I was there for you. I held you as you cried for her! While I watched mine murdered at the hand of the late Gisborne, where were you? You were off fighting in your Holy War, a war that's not even ours!" At this point I was nearly screaming.
"That's not fair," he said, trying to contain his frustration.
"No, it's not!" I shot back, "And the worst part, is that I still haven't had anyone, because the moment she was killed, I was taken away to this castle, this prison, where I've had to fend for myself for the past three years," I finished. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, but I would not cry in front of this boy. I'd already wasted too many tears on him.
"Marian, I," he walked towards me.
"I want you to leave. I want you to leave, and don't come back. You seem to be good at that," I seethed. My eyes were downcast. I couldn't look at him. I went to turn away from him, but he grabbed my hand. I whirled back to face him.
"Marian, please."
"Get…out," I ordered through gritted teeth. I could see hurt in his eyes. Good, now he knew how I felt. As he backed away, more emotions mixed in with the hurt. There was anger. There was frustration. And there was determination.
Just as he was about to leave, he faced me. He was holding something up.
"Before I left, I promised you three things. I promised that I would come home safely to you, and I have. I promised that I would always be there for you."
"You weren't," I put in, but he kept going.
"And I promised I would love you forever, no matter what happened," he whispered before disappearing into the night. I glanced back to where he was. My ring lay upon the sill. I walked over and grabbed it, slipping it onto my finger. Yes, he did promise me these things.
With Robin's old promises now fresh in my mind, I changed into my night clothes, lay in my bed, and cried myself to sleep.