To his surprise, Robin didn't have any nightmares. His sleep was deep and uninterrupted. The morning, however, told a much different story.
A heavy numbness settled in his chest, and with every step he took the earth dragged him down to her level, leaving seductive whispers in his ears telling him to lie down and not get up again. All around him stood reminders of the terrible event that had transpired yesterday. Every shattered bone, scarred body, lost limb or pair of vacant, mournful eyes the dryads wore made the sorrow nestle deeper into Puck's heart.
He sighed and leaned against his makeshift crutch, grimacing as sparks of pain went up his leg. He felt a soft hand rest on his arm. "Robin?" Capala said softly. "You okay?"
Capala had kept him going this far. She'd guided the group while Puck lavished in his own suffering, smiling and attending to each dryad and giving them whatever they needed. In the back of his mind, Robin thought, that in her own way, the tragedy gave her a purpose. People needed her, and it took her mind off her own problems.
"Yeah," Puck said, giving her a weak smile. "My apologies, Captain. I don't feel my best at the moment."
"Just keep your chin up," the woman replied, squeezing his shoulder. "Just keep going forward. I'll handle everything else." She leaned forward and hesitantly kissed him on the cheek. Robin took the moment to enjoy her touch, her smell, the feeling of safety and comfort he had when she was near. He used the arm not occupied with his crutch to hold her close before she pulled away, running off to re-bandage one of the dryads. In the back of his mind, Puck took pleasure in seeing her grow more affectionate.
He started to walk again, grunting as he swung his crutch around to go forward when Barla spoke. "Do you hear that?"
Everyone stopped. The forest had gone silent, unusual and frightening. Puck saw Capala slowly unsheathe her gun. In a second, Robin heard it too. The sound of hoofbeats drumming in the ground. And they were getting louder. "Into the bushes!" Capala hissed, pointing her gun at the side of the path. Everyone darted into the foliage, trying to keep their breathing shallow and silent while the horses and their riders grew ever closer.
When the riders came into vision, someone exclaimed, "They're rebels!" Out of the corner of his eyes, Puck saw Capala tense up, her finger curling around her trigger and her free hand balling into a fist as she summoned her glamour. Robin knew what she wanted to do. And he didn't stop her.
"Get ready to run," Capala spat, lifting her gun to aim for the riders as they drove by. Puck's heartbeat roared in his ears as the horses came closer, and closer. Faster, louder, like a storm flying towards them. Thundering, passionate and angry as it waited for it's lightning.
The riders flew past, and Capala fired.
A cry tore through the air as a horse whinnied and bucked its rider, making the man go flying. Capala leapt from the bushes, firing another round into the first creature she saw. From where he huddled in the dirt, Robin spoke rapid chants and turned the leaves and twigs around him into copies that danced out after Capala, drawing the rebels attention and giving Capala time to shoot.
The jester watched as well he could from a safe distance, the gunfire making his ears ring and his heart race. But his heart stopped when he heard Capala cry out. "Cap!" he shouted, and stumbled out after her. The woman squirmed in the grasp of two bloody soldiers, Puck's copies disintegrated and empty bullet cases rolling on the ground. "Let her go!" he cried, trying to tackle one of the men holding the officer.
But an unseen leg swept his crutch and drove his footing out from under him, making him crash to the ground and feel horrible pain spark up his leg. Tears flew to his eyes and he contorted in the dirt, letting an animal cry escape him. "You bastards!" he heard Capala yell.
"That's enough," a deep and commanding voice bellowed. "Emery, that was unnecessary. Help him up."
"Yes sir," a grudging male voice replied. Robin felt himself being lifted up and his crutch returned to his arm.
"Much appreciated," he spat. From this angle, he looked up to see his saviour.
Riding atop a large, regal horse sat a man with striking golden eyes and silver hair. He wore military clothes with numerous awards and honours pinned to his chest. His clothes looked like they displayed the colors of the Iron Army, but somehow better. Cleaner. More sophisticated. A long, ornate blade hung at the man's hip, and a rifle perched on his back, the barrel peeking out over the man's shoulder. "You're welcome," the man said. "You must be Robin Goodfellow. Aster's told me a lot about you."
Puck's jaw dropped. "You know Aster?"
"I do. My apologies for attacking your companion, by the way; she shot first, after all, and looked like a rebel soldier. I'm assuming you know her; you did try to protect her."
"So you're not rebels?" Capala interrupted, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, we are very much so, madam," the man said. "But we are more political and less radical. We do not support extremists who attack neutral parties. A few months ago, my men and I were seeking aid, and Aster gave it to us without question. I consider her an ally and a friend." He looked back to Robin. "I assume she's with you?"
A sudden knot formed in Puck's throat. "She's dead," he croaked. "We were attacked just a day ago. She died defending us."
The man paled. "Then I am too late." He dismounted his horse, and walked over to shake hands with the trickster. "I am General Fission," he said, his eyes burning with a strange intensity. "And I offer whatever help I can, if you'll accept it."
Robin and Capala shared a look. The woman nodded and pulled away from the two who still held her, this time pulling away without a fight. "There are some survivors," she said. "Very few, but some. If you could help us find safety, we would appreciate it."
"And a place to rebuild," Puck interjected. "It's what...what Aster told me to do. She wanted them to find a new home."
"Then find a new home we will," the man said. "We have a political base not far from here. From there we can find somewhere for the dryads to live."
"Really?" Barla emerged from the trees, followed by the rest of the dryads. "We'll be safe?"
Fission turned and walked over to Barla, bowing before her and taking her hand in his. "I swear on my life, miss," he said. "None of your friends or family will come to harm under my care."
Fission had plenty of medical supplies on hand, and he was specially equipped to handle any Iron injuries the dryads had. He and his men had bandages and herbal remedies, and Robin got an actual splint instead of a crooked twig strapped to his leg. Capala wore a large patch over her cheek, but had little wounds aside from that.
Puck and some of the other more wounded fey got to ride the rebels' horses as they travelled. "How long until we get to the base?" Robin asked, looking down at the general from his high saddle.
"A few days' ride, at full speed," Fission replied. "Maybe two and a half weeks at our pace."
"Delightful," Puck grunted, shifting in his seat. "See, this is why I don't like riding horses. By tomorrow I'm not going to be able to feel my butt cheeks, let alone in two weeks."
"Quit complaining, Robin," Capala said. "At least you just have to sit around. I'm the one who's walking."
"Poor baby," Puck mocked. "You have to do what you normally do anyway. I have to grind my ass against this uncomfortable-as-shit saddle for the next few weeks. I've got a figure to keep! My ass is my best feature!"
"Yeah," Capala snorted. "That's where you do all your talking." Fission laughed.
Robin scowled. "Don't act like you don't like my ass. Everyone does. It's a fact."
"Is it now?" Capala smirked. "I'm more of a legs girl myself."
Puck glanced down at his bum leg. "Well, shit."
And so began two long and hopeful weeks. While the introduction of the rebels gave most some optimism, Robin couldn't help but let the uncertainty of the future get to him sometimes. At night, before bed and after dinner, he would, in an act quite out of character for him, pray. "'Kay, I know I don't do this very often," he murmured, eyes shut, "often being never, but Grimalkin said there's entities out there watching us. Forces that command us. So I ask you, if you do exist, please let Aster be at peace. Please let us be safe. And if there is anything good in this world, please let us find a new home and a way out of this."