AN:2.6.13: Moving this into the Trust Vault.
A Choice of Words
AN: This is just a one shot, I just thought it'd be interesting. And before you say it, I know, I'm officially obsessed with Harry Potter and I really need to stop coming up with new stories every other day. They're fun, but my fic list is so long...and I've officially hit the doc. limit...
But, Enjoy anyway!
AN2: Okay, there's also some Sorcerer's Aprentice stuff. Harry/Robbie needed a magic teacher, Gandalf doesn't exist, Dumbledore's a bastard and Merlin scares me...so Balthazar it is. And if anyone can guess where and who Balthazar's nickname for Robbie comes from you may request a story/pairing/scenario. I'll write it. :)
Warning: m/m pairing, altered time-line, time travel, Sheriff bashing, and language. Possible ooc-ness, and FLUFF (great big fluffy fluff)
Godrick's Hollow, England, October 31, 1980
All Hallow's Eve was tainted. It was colder than normal, and the wind brewed like the herald of a storm. The night settled like a hush over the Potter household, a breath being held in waiting. The squeal of their un-oiled front gate heralded a strong breeze...or an intruder. James looked out their front window and blanched. He knew what was coming. If only they could hide their son. He rushed Lilly up the stairs and then positioned himself in the entrance. He would fight. And hopefully, Harry would get away. His last thoughts were of his wife and their child, and a future he hoped would come.
Lilly ran up the stairs as her husband bid, running to grab Harry before they got here. If she could just get him out. Make him safe. Get him away. Hide. She reached the top step as the front door burst open. She never heard the killing curse hit her husband, she ran. Heavy footsteps followed after her. They were up the steps, she opened the door to Harry's room and made her way to the crib. Harry was wide awake, looking up with the natural baby blue eyes. She smiled down at him but heard the footsteps get closer. There was no time. She wheeled, drawing her wand, and faced the intruder. The man in the doorway laughed wickedly and threw his spell. Her dying scream rung in the air.
"Harry!" Her limp corpse fell to the ground with a heavy thud.
The man stepped over the woman's body, his shoes hitting the wooden flooring with heavy thuds. The little boy, the prophetic child, stared up at him with large baby blues. He aimed his wand and grinned wickedly. After tonight, no one would stand in his way. After tonight, he would be the greatest Dark Lord of all time. And no one could stop him now.
"Avida Kadavre," He took a mental step back as the words slipped his lips. These were not the words he was trying to utter. This would not kill the boy. In fact, he didn't know what it would do. The spell glowed green and shot from his wand, it was too late to take it back. With an anguished cry he felt himself ripping to shreds as the spell struck the boy in the forehead. He watched as the child faded away, his once blue eyes glowing sickly green with the spell. Voldemort reached out with his mind and brushed his fingers over one of his horcrux's. But he couldn't grab it. The pain was unbearable. He was sucked back inside of himself and died. His lifeless corpse falling grotesquely next to the dead woman on the floor. His body was laced with thick, brutal scars that bled black onto the ground, and his empty eyes stared out at a vastness no one knew.
This was how the Dark Lord died. Defeated by a child of three months. When the auror's arrived they were horrified by the emaciated, bloodless corpse of the dead man. He was as ugly in death as his soul was in life. But, however hard they searched for the child, no one could find him. Weeping with despair at the loss of his friends and his godchild, Sirius Black left England with Remus Lupin at his heels. They were devastated by the loss. Peter Petigrew was apprehended at the scene and discovered as the snitch who sold out James and Lilly Potter. He was sent to Azkaban and was never heard from again.
The wizarding world mourned for them and the loss of the child, who would have been the greatest wizard of their time.
Nottingham, England: October, 1190
Marian sighed heavily as she stared out at the gray skies and the rain. It had been one year since Robert had left for the war. One bloody year. She was grateful to Walter Locksley's kindness and his offers to take her to London, but she loved this countryside and this land. It was her favorite place, and she couldn't just leave it. The rolling sound of thunder passed overhead and lightning cracked. She vaguely imagined that a large flash of lightning had hit the house and was tinted with a fascinatingly green color. It was strange. And then she heard the crying wail of a child. She spun, her eyes searching for the crying babe and falling on the source.
The child could not have been over three months old, with a thick patch of black hair and delicate pale skin. It was sitting on her bed and wailing, giant sobbing tears cascading over it's chubby cheeks. She bit back her shock at finding the child in her own bed, of all the oddest things, and rushed to the baby's side.
"Shh, shh," She crooned, picking up the child and rocking it in her arms tenderly. If she had gotten pregnant within the week Robert had been here, she imagined their child would look much like this baby boy. She cooed at it until it's wailing became a faint sniffle and it's eyes opened to reveal unnaturally gleaming green orbs. She gazed at them, transfixed, and smiled sweetly. If only this was her child. Where did he come from? She wondered to herself, looking at the babe's strange outfit. It looked nothing like proper baby clothes. She scrunched up her nose and set the babe on her hip, wondering around her room until she found her engagement chest. It held all of her old baby's clothing and other miscellaneous things she might have needed to care for her new family. She pulled out one of her old night shirts and proceeded to dress the little boy. It took awhile to figure out the strange, thick material the baby was wearing as trousers, but she got them off and replaced the strange garments with the night gown.
The baby just stared up at her with it's gorgeous green eyes and smiled. She stared down at him lovingly.
"There, now," She crooned, picking the baby back up and carrying him down the stairs to find Lord Walter and confer on what to be done. If only this cute little boy was hers. She knew for a fact that none of her staff had any recent births, not within the last three months. And she was curious as to how the child managed to appear in her bedroom. She gave the babe a sidelong glance and smiled. It didn't matter. If she could, she would keep him. And he could be her child, if only in spirit.
"Walter," She called from the stairs when she saw him sitting by the fireplace.
"Yes, Marian," The old man looked up from his thoughts and squinted as she approached. The poor man was going blind, but he could still see. "What do you have there?"
"I found him," She said softly, handing the child over to the old man carefully.
"Found him?"
"Yes, in my bed chamber, he just...appeared," She frowned at how ridiculous she sounded.
"Oh, what beautiful eyes he has," Walter smiled down at the little boy in his hands. The baby giggled and reached up with his hands to Lord Walter.
"I – I would like to keep him." She whispered softly. Walter looked up at her with a sad smile.
"He does look a bit like my Robert, doesn't he?" The man smiled. "Perhaps we shall say he is your son then," Walter handed the child back to her, smiling as the boy grabbed his nose.
"He's about three months old, the time does fit," She hesitated.
"Yes, it does," the man nodded, "Almost like an act of God," Marian smiled and held the child close to her.
"What shall we name him?" She asked.
"Well, a wife, pining for her husbands safe return might name their child after him," Walter said softly.
"Robert, then," Marian stroked the babe's hair fondly. "Robert Walter Locksley,"
Nottingham, England 1196
Young Robert Locksley slept peacefully beneath his mothers careful loving eyes, she watched as his breast rose and fell in the pattern of deep slumber. Six years had passed since she'd found him on that stormy night. Six years of tender care and nurturing that gave her peace of mind and a will to fight for what she needed for her son to live. The taxes were getting harder to pay, and she wasn't sure how long Walter had before his eyesight failed completely. If only there was one more miracle to be given. Another blessing equal to her little son. Robert mumbled something in his sleep and turned over, wrapping his blankets closer about his neck. She smoothed a stray lock of hair from his brow and kissed the odd scar upon his forehead.
Cruel twas Fate that marred her son's face with a scar. Marian pulled her hand from young Robert's face and retreated from the room, sparing a last glance at her sleeping son.
"Sleep well, dear," She whispered into the darkened chamber. And then she shut the door.
Robert was dreaming. Dreaming of a distant shore. There was blood and pain, and men who wore metal. He didn't understand what they were doing. And the dream wasn't scary. It was surreal, as if he'd been there before but, had been pulled from his own eyes to view the bigger picture. He watched men fight, and die and live. Winning, losing, it was a constant struggle. And yet he watched. Someone approached him, and this man was also disconnected from the scene of warfare and strife. He was tall, a full grown man, with a young face and tawny skin. Robert turned to face him fully and appraised the man with interest. He was much older than he seemed, was the distinct feeling Robert got as he eyed the man's wary stance. There was a thin layer of stubble across the man's jaw and chin. His thick eyebrows shadowed his clear blue eyes and made it slightly harder to read the man's face.
"Do you know who I am?" The man asked, his voice seemed hopeful and guarded.
"Are you one of Merlin's Apprentices?" The words left his mouth before he could think about it. "Where did that come from," He frowned to himself.
"I am. Do you know my name?"
"Balthazar," Again, the words just came to him.
"Good," The man nodded and looked him over. "You are young to seek me out, magelet."
"But, this is a dream. Is it not?" Robert cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. What's a magelet, anyway?
"It is. This dream that we are sharing, can be used as your place of study. We'll start with the basics, come."
"Study? Study what?" Robert followed as the man walked away through trees and shrubs that seemed to grow as they passed by.
"Study how to use your magic of course," Balthazar replied mildly.
"Magic?" Robert's voice seemed a whisper. "I have magic?"
"Yes, and a lot of it too. Best put it under control before it gets too bottled up. If it goes any further, overlooked, you'll be causing strange things in the natural world. And that's never good. It's already leaking through to your normal senses."
"And you can teach me to use it?" Robert hurried his pace.
"Yes," Perhaps he could find a good use for it later. He looked back behind them to the field where men still fought and died.
"Could you teach me to heal?"
"I can," Balthazar turned to look at him. Robert thought a moment.
"Please teach me Master Balthazar," Robert bowed formally.
"Come, we have much to cover tonight,"
Nottingham, England 1199
Robert, or Robbie as he preferred, followed after his mother. She was going to the church to welcome the new friar, and Robbie wanted to meet him too. The boy was half over nine summers, though his size made him seem a bit younger, his slightly trimmed hair fell in soft, dark curls to his shoulders and was pulled back in a short tail today, that showed off his unique lightning bolt scar. His mother had said that it had been a mark to remind all of the storm that brought him to them all. His tanned skin reflected his love of the outdoors and his tenancy to linger too long in the sun. And while he was young, his Grandfather had taught him all he needed to know of the sword and bow before he'd lost his sight. Robbie was getting skilled, if his Mother did say so. But sometimes, like his skill with bow and sword, he was just too gifted to forget. He could run fast, without tiring. He could see farther and in less light than the other villagers. He could hear things that others couldn't pick up, as well as smell things people missed. And sometimes he could do things that made no logical sense.
He'd been studying with Balthazar for three years, gradually working through spells and rituals and the things that needed to be learned. Meditation, Runes, Stones, Healing, Herbs and other things that were interesting and boring, and sometimes altogether frustrating. But it was worth it. Because now his magic came easier to him. Now he could use it to heal the injured animals he found in the woods, sometimes, when he played. Balthazar had also seen fit to teach him some self defense with a blade. Knives to start with and now the sword, though Robbie already had the basics for that one. He practiced every day just to impress his master while he slept. It was a start.
Robbie followed the black horse on his dappled gray. Wondering why she wasn't stopping because her horse was complaining about a stone in it's front left hoof. He frowned and remembered that no one else seemed to hear the animals. Maybe he could pry it out once they'd arrived at the church. He spotted the small gray stone chapel and smiled. He wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but he was glad the old friar was leaving. Robbie hated that man. The man was more interested in his own ascension of the church hierarchy than the people he was supposed to serve. It made Robbie sick.
He watched his mother dismount and followed quickly after, sliding off the back of his pretty Snow, the mare turned to him and snuffled his hair. He laughed and patted her cheek, leaving her to pick the stone from his mother's horse. The black stallion snorted in his face and thanked him, as much as any horse could with a gentle nibble to his ear. Robbie grinned and scampered after his mother, wondering if he might be able to help her with the planting this afternoon.
"Lady Marian, I would have been sorry to leave without your farewell, thank you," The old friar didn't even bother to look at his mother as he packed.
"I'm glad to speed you on your way, Father Tancred. But it was to seek out our new shepherd-" the man cut her off.
"You have been greatly missed at Sunday worship and my sermons, as well as your son." The man pressed forward. Robbie inched into the chapel and clung to his mother's skirt, eying the new man standing over by the cross.
"I like a quiet church, Father, when I pray for a miracle." His mother replied, and Robbie smirked. He knew very well that his mother held no good opinion of this slimy man and would not miss his boring sermons. She walked towards the other man in the room, Robbie following along behind her, keeping his eyes away from the old friar.
"Your new flock is women, children, old-folk," Marian spoke to the new man, "men who have gone to war and returned broken. The orphans run wild in the greenwood. Our fields are ready for planting, but we've no seed corn, and the church barn is full of grain," He could here the pleading in his mother's voice. Please let this man be nice, Robbie prayed silently to himself. He cast a quick glance back at the old friar who was watching their conversation with steely eyes.
"Surely you do not ask the church to let it's corn be used to plant your fields. That grain is bound for York," Father Tancred said, continuing his packing. Robbie glared daggers at the man while his mother moved to confront him. The new friar following after quickly.
"I am Friar Tuck," the man said politely. "Father Tancred has been elevated to York, where I know he will remind the Bishop that the people of No -"
"The Bishop does not need reminding that the people of Nottingham should reap what they sow, and repent of their sins." Father Tancred cut in shallowly. Robbie wretched at the man's words, the first noise he'd made while in their presence. Friar Tuck gave him a startled look. Father Tancred was digging himself an early grave.
"The miracle I pray for is that the Bishop show some christian charity," His mother hissed, she made to leave, stopping once by Father Tancred's side. "As I said Father, I like a quiet church when I pray," And then she left. Robbie made to follow after her, avoiding Tancred's lingering eyes. He vaulted onto his mare and followed quickly after his mother, who was already galloping down the lane faster than he could follow. Snow wanted water, he called to his mother, but she was too far ahead. He sighed and pulled her away from his mother's path. Letting Snow trot into the main square. He dismounted and threw a charming smile at a man drawing water from the well. He handed the man some coin and let Snow drink. She nuzzled the side of his face lovingly after drinking and promised not to complain if he rode too far today. Robbie just laughed and mounted her again. Clicking his tongue he raced her towards Pepperharrow, his mother would surely be there, if not then his grandfather would be.
Robbie dismounted in the courtyard, noticing the horses of the Sheriff and his posse, surely the louts had better things to do than bother his poor mother. He tisk-d the poor horses as they spoke of aching backs and poor food. Seemed everyone suffered these days, even the horses.
"Mother! Grandfather!" Robbie skipped into the house, looking for his caretakers. The Sheriff was standing impatiently in the main room, he turned when Robbie entered.
"The young Master Locksley," The Sheriff's smile was vicious at best. And Robbie halted in his tracks at the sight of him. Mother had warned him not to go near the man. He was evil.
"Excuse me," Robbie gave a courteous bow and moved to the stairwell.
"Hold up just a moment, lad," The Sheriff grabbed his shoulder and Robbie stopped. "Is your Grandfather home?" Robbie thought for a moment. If the maids hadn't brought Grandfather down right away, and Mother was not handling the situation then Grandfather was feeling ill and Mother was out.
"I'm sorry, but my Grandfather cannot be disturbed at the moment and my Mother is out. Please, call again. Perhaps tomorrow?" Robbie turned and gave the man his best smile. Knowing that this answer would not satisfy the man. The Sheriff growled and backhanded him, sending Robbie spinning into the wall. Robbie held his cheek and glared up at the man.
"That will teach you to hold your tongue in front of your betters," The man's glower was dark but did nothing compared to Robbie's flashing green gaze. The Sheriff stalked out of the room, and Robbie moved to the window to watch the bastard leave. The man's horse could feel Robbie's hate and it shied away from the man before he gripped it's mane and clambered on it's back. When the Sheriff let go the horse reared, sending the man flying backwards to the ground. Robbie smirked from the window as he listened to the maids laugh at the Sheriff's plight, the twinge of pain at his sore cheek didn't even register in his mind. The man was not popular, not at all. Robbie watched the disheveled heap pick itself up and storm out of the courtyard. Feeling much better about life in general Robbie traipsed up the stairs to find his Grandfather and a good book before venturing outside to practice his knife work before supper.
Robbie walked through his dream study, looking at the collection of knowledge he'd gained in the form of scrolls an books upon sorted shelves. Master Balthazar had explained that organizing his mind would help him find what he needed quickly, so he'd built himself a small house in his head with just enough rooms to organize and sort his memories, knowledge and skills. Balthazar had been a bit amused by the size of his little rooms and showed him the simplified layout for his own. Balthazar was incredibly knowledgeable. And Robbie had looked upon the vast mansion that housed so much with wonder and awe. But that wasn't why he was here tonight. Balthazar had given him the night off studying, so he spent his time talking to the man. He still knew next to nothing about his master. And though he was comfortable with the man, he did not feel connected to him. Even if their minds shared dreams every night.
"Before you begin your string of questions, let me just tell you what you wish to know," The wizard held up his hand to stop Robbie from speaking. The boy wriggled deeper into the large, fluffy pillow he sat on and waited. Balthazar told him of his studies as a young man under Merlin. Of the painful betrayal of Horvath and the imprisonment of Morgana. He showed Robbie the little doll with it's multiple layers and confided to missing his love, Veronica. But, when he asked Robbie to hold the little dragon the boy shook his head.
"Master, I know I am not the one you seek. I may not need a ring to use my magic, but I have this feeling that you must wait much longer than this. Many, many years and many layers to go. Besides, Horvath is still out there. He'll be your last layer before the Prime Merlinian shows. I saw it the other day in the scrying bowl."
"You saw this?"
"Yes, I -" Robbie bit his lip, "I didn't know what I was looking at, the doll, until you showed me. But, it all makes sense now. His name is Dave, by the way. The boy you're looking for."
"Oh," Balthazar blinked.
"Sorry if I seem a bit perceptive today. It's close to the spring equinox and my brain gets a bit ahead of time in the spring." Robbie grimaced.
"That's fine, magelet," Balthazar gave a small smile. Robbie debated the merit of telling the man that his future life with Veronica was secured, but decided the man could do with a bit of a surprise. It would be a good one, after all. The house shimmered lightly.
"Oh, guess the sun's up," Robbie looked out of his dream-house window with a smile, "I'll see you tonight, Master," And with that Robbie closed his eyes and promptly woke up in his bed. Spring sun shining down on his face, swollen cheek throbbing as he smiled.
Nottingham, England: A Day and a Half later.
Robbie heard his mother's voice coming from the courtyard entrance. Margaret came in and curtseyed, telling Grandfather that Lady Marian needed him, there was a guest. He vaguely wondered what she needed Grandfather for if it was a 'guest' but, shrugged it off and guided his Grandfather to the entrance. Mother shooed him away as quickly as he'd arrived. He just barely managed to get a good look at the stranger before he had to back away from his mother's shooing. Robbie sighed but did as she bid, she was Mother after all. So he went upstairs to continue reading his book. The history of England was quite interesting. But he couldn't shed his thoughts from the face of the stranger in their home. He looked...familiar. Robbie sighed and put his book down. He wasn't getting anywhere with it anyway. He went to sit in front of his small mirror and stared at his face with scrutiny. Yes, it was there. In the faint set of his jaw, the small chin, the shape of his brow. The stranger...could this be...Father? Robbie gazed at his reflection and tried to imagine the stranger's face next to his. He dare not hope that this man was him. But, no matter how hard he tried to dissuade himself his heart pounded with the thought. Father, Father. My Father.
"Robbie!" Mother called from the stairwell. "Robbie! There is someone who would like to meet you!" Robbie shot to his feet and scrambled for the door. He jerked the latch up and hastened down the steps.
"Yes, Mother?" He flushed, Could it really be?
"Robbie," Marian pulled him into her arms and then turned him to face the stranger. "This is your father, Sir Robert Locksley. Dear," The word seemed foreign to her as she said them, "This is your son, Robert Walter Locksley. You've never met." Robbie felt his heart stop in his chest. His breath stopped when he knew. It is him! The words sung through his blood and surged through his body. Oh, what glorious day be it that his father had returned!
"Father," Robbie bowed formally, not sure what to expect from the man. He was strange. New. Kind. The word swam through his thoughts before the man extended a hand.
"Come here, boy," Father beckoned. Robbie stepped forward and stopped in front of the man, watching him with hopeful eyes. The man appraised him silently, then smiled and placed a gentle hand on his head. "It is good to meet my son," My Son. The words rang in his ears. Delicious melody that those words made to his ears.
"I am glad you are home, Father," Robbie smiled.
"Come, give your father a hug," the man pulled him into a tight embrace that picked him off the ground and Robbie was only too glad to give one back.
"We've missed you," Robbie whispered into the man's ear before he was set back on the ground. The man gave him a sad smile before Robbie was distracted by his mother leaving the room as Grandfather called for more wine and the church bell.
"Son," the man called Robbie's attention back. "What happened to your cheek?" the man's gentle hand cupped Robbie's swollen cheek that held the bruise from the Sheriff.
"The Sheriff of Nottingham called yesterday. He thought I talked back to him. I just asked him to call again, later, because Mother was out and Grandfather wasn't feeling well." Robbie shrugged as if it was no big deal. After all, the horse had already gotten his revenge.
"Really now?" Father raised an eyebrow, "Did you tell Mother?"
"No, she has enough to worry about without me getting into trouble with evil men," Robbie shook his head lightly.
"Robbie, stop bothering your father and let him eat." Mother came back in and tugged Robbie away from Father.
"I'm sorry, Father. Please, eat," Robbie apologized and went to take the empty seat that had been set by his mother.
"No need to apologize, you did nothing wrong," Father smiled. Robbie sat and ate in silence, listening to Grandfather and Father talk.
"Mother, now that Father is home..." Robbie trailed off, slightly nervous.
"Yes, dear?" Mother prodded.
"Can I have a little brother now?" Robbie watched as Father choked on his drink and began coughing. Mother seemed a bit distracted and Grandfather was laughing hysterically. "You said when Father got home, you'd think about it," Robbie reminded his mother softly.
"I think, we should speak of this later, Robbie," Mother gave him a slightly harsh look and dismissed the question. Either way, Robbie would bring it up again. He'd waited ten years for a little brother, he could wait a few more days. After all, Father had just gotten back, perhaps the faeries that made little brothers would bring his brother later on...
Robin felt a bit dragged around by Lady Marian. She was pretty, to be sure, but she was independent as well. Which suited him just fine. He smiled to himself when she insisted on saving the goat, and then proceeded to get herself stuck in the bog. He shook his head and dismounted, wondering what her son – his son, if he acted correctly – did all day while she took stock of the town. Actually, he'd been quite shocked to see young Robert, and knowing that he was deceiving the boy made his gut wrench guiltily. He was an honest man, and lying to a child did not sit right with him. But, the boy reminded him so much of himself. He couldn't help but feel like Robert was his son. The boy had proceeded to show that he was extremely smart and capable. And he'd insisted on his father teaching him the blade, apparently he hadn't been able to practice well for several years with his grandfather's fading eyesight. And Robin had, grudgingly, relented. He reminded himself to get Will and John to help teach the boy, though maybe John was a bit much.
Robin waded into the bog with the rope hanging around his neck and torso, going for the ram first. After all, it had started everything, right?
"Oh, is it my turn now?" Marian asked snarkily, raising an eyebrow as he picked her up. The sound of hoof beats stopping drew his attention up as he dumped her on the ground.
"Nicely done, Sir," The man on the horse said with a perverse smile, "To see Lady Marian's legs, beyond my wildest hopes this morning," Marian glowered before realizing something and grabbing Robin's shoulder.
"I don't believe you know my husband, Sir Robert," She began, "Allow me to introduce the Sheriff of Nottingham." Robin eyed the man, angry on behalf of Marian, but also young Robert. This was the bastard that smacked the boy.
"Welcome home, Sir Robert. You make your mark quickly by rescuing the King's lamb from drowning." the Sheriff motioned towards the bog.
"What's this?" Marian stared, mouth agape.
"What's mine in coin I have a right to take in goods or livestock," the Sheriff shrugged.
"If it's God's will," Robin spared Marian a glance before digging in his purse and pulling out a coin. "Here's a ram's worth of tax, forgoing your insolence to Lady Marian and your brutality to my son. I'll consider the debt between us." Nottingham's eyes widened in shock as he caught the coin Robin tossed him. With that, Robin led a grinning Marian away. If he saw the bastard near either of them again, the Sheriff would be sporting new scars and bruises.
"I'll warn you know, magelet, that man is not you're father," Balthazar grimaced.
"I know," Robbie looked away from the painting of Father that had been hung in the entrance of his mind-home. It was a good image, and the likeness to the man was very close. Robbie blamed his good eyes. The man did look like hims, a bit, but this man was not Father.
"Still, he's kind. And Mother calls him Father, so perhaps he is the new Father?" Robbie pondered.
"Your mother waited ten years for Sir Robert to come home, you really think she'd remarry now? Besides, isn't this stranger new?" Balthazar eyed the painting with scrutiny.
"I suppose," Robbie nodded. "I'll worry about it later, he doesn't seem to will us harm, so I'll leave it for now. What are we covering tonight?" Robbie turned away from the painting with determination to put everything else out of his mind.
"Remedial work, review. Just to make sure you haven't forgotten anything," Balthazar smiled.
"Oh, goodie," Robbie rolled his eyes and trotted after his master, review was Balthazar's way of saying 'We're going over all the basics so I can scold you'. Oh well, he thought lightly, nothing in this world could make me give up our nightly study. And it was true. Robbie always looked forward to sleep because Balthazar was always there, ready to teach him something new. And if he hadn't known better he would have started calling Balthazar 'Father' long ago. But that would make the man flustered and practically useless.
"Magelet," Balthazar turned to him suddenly.
"Yes, Master?" Robbie cocked his head to the side.
"I just wanted to let you know I'll be visiting sometime this month. Don't be alarmed, because I'm taking you away for further training."
"Oh, what about Mother?"
"I'll explain everything to her when I get there, for now, just act natural."
"So, I can tell her to expect a visitor?"
"If that is natural."
"She thinks I have visions in my dreams sometimes. I'll let her know you'll be here."
"Very well, though most mortals don't take us well."
"Mother is kind, you need not worry," Robbie assured. "She'll keep us safe from the locals and give you a warm bed to sleep in,"
"My thanks," Balthazar smiled, "Now," and they returned their attention to the basics.
Robbie enjoyed learning from his father. Life seemed so much better with Sir Robert around and Robbie had to remind himself that he couldn't get used to having his father there every morning. If he did, then the man might go away again, and he didn't want that to happen. It was one of these learning mornings where Sir Robert had decided to take his son with him to hunt. He was showing Robbie how to move through the brush and keep the wildlife from startling until you wanted it too. He also explained the proper way to shoot a bow and arrow. And it was after Father shot a fair sized mallard duck that everything went funny. Robbie could smell the scent of unwashed human body and hear the scratching of well trained hunting feet. Much like what Father had just taught him. But, what is the prey? Robbie's mind worked rapidly until he felt the circle close around them. Oh...we are. Robbie grabbed his father's shoulder.
"Father," Robbie whispered. "They're hunting us," the words barely left his mouth before the ambush sprung at them. Robbie barely suppressed his surprise when Sir Robert shoved him to the ground. He could think of only a few reasons for such an action and they settled on a single one. Protect. But, this was also what his mind screamed for him to do. He did not want to lose his father. He felt the hard ground connect with his body at last and rolled, springing back up into the small tousle. Robbie cocked his arm back and snapped one of their assailants in the face, watching the boy spin to the ground, his attack halted. Father was far more skilled than he in hand to hand combat, but Robbie didn't need see it to know. He rushed one of the boys at Father's back, tackling the mass and hurling end over end until they came to a stop and the boy did not move beneath him. He got another one of his vague senses of knowing that told him his magic had done something unconsciously to stop the boy from moving. But all of this meant little when something hard collided with his head.
Robbie opened his eyes, feeling like he'd been trampled by Snow's thick hooves. His eyes adjusted slowly until he could take in every feature of the grove they were in. He felt, more than saw, his father next to him. Not that it mattered since he couldn't move his hands or feet.
"Right! Go on. Go on!" An older boy, possibly fifteen or sixteen summers shooed the younger ones out of his way and came to sit on a log in front of Robbie and Sir Robert. "He said anything yet?"
"They was spying, Loop," The older boy standing above Robbie said gruffly. Robbie took a guess and figured Loop was the boy on the log, possibly the leader.
"Spying?" Robbie's head shot up as Mother's voice appeared, "Robert, I'm ashamed of you! And dragging in poor Robbie!"
"Hello, Marian," Father said brightly, "We've come ta save ya," The boys all laughed as Father spoke.
"Know 'em?" Loop asked Mother.
"Boys," Mother smiled, "This is Sir Robert Locksley, my husband. And Robbie, my son. Sir Robert, Robbie, the runaways of Sherwood."
"Untie 'im" Loop ordered, looking a bit shamed. Robbie caught his eye and smiled, all in good natured fun.
"No, I don't think spies should be let off so easily," Mother smirked sitting down on the other end of Loop's log.
"That was unkind," Father stared at her.
"You were a crusader?" Loop leaned in towards Father, and Robbie's protective instinct went a bit crazy. He shoved it down. Father would be fine, he was a crusader, after all.
"Yes,"
"You here that boys?" Loop beamed, "You bested a crusader!" Loop leaned back towards father. "My men are good fighters" Robbie subtly wriggled his hands, feeling the knot's weaknesses, as no doubt his father could too.
"I don't know about that, I think the weight of numbers might have been in their favor. But they move silently like creatures of the forest, I couldn't pick them up. I was warned by my son. Still, that's only a skill if you stay as a man. If you don't become the creatures you hunt."
"We're soldiers," Loop looked a bit offended.
"No your not." Father stared him down, "Soldiers fight for a cause. What's yours? You don't have one. That makes you poachers. Common Thieves!" The boys started to growl at him. "And a lot to learn." Father finished. Robbie saw Father's hands slip from the knots, so he figured he could slip free as well. The knots had been simple to free himself from.
"Like what?" Loop hissed.
"I could teach ya...how to tie knots," Father tossed the pole he'd been strung to at Loop and stood. Robbie stood up as well, but didn't bother attacking. Father could handle his own. He could see that now. "I could teach ya which wood to get to make your bow stronger. I could teach ya how to make arrows that fly more than twenty feet. And I could help Marian teach you how to stay clean, so you won't get sick. I don't know who you're fighting, son, but it's not me. I'm not your enemy. If you want a chance, you know where to find me." Robbie beamed at his father's intelligence. Trust Father to handle his own escape.
"Wife," Sir Robert beckoned to Mother, "Son," Robbie smiled at his father and made his way towards the man.
"Hold up a moment. Will, this the boy who did it?" Loop halted Robbie with a single hand.
"Yeah, poor Pete's still not moving" the boy, Will, nodded.
"What'd you do to Pete?" Loop turned his dark eyes on Robbie.
"Pete?" Robbie's sense of knowing came back. This was the boy he'd stopped from moving. Robbie cocked his head to the side. "Where is he?"
Loop motioned for him to follow and led Robbie towards a small makeshift shelter. The boy he'd tackled lay inside on a pallet of leaves, as stone stiff as he'd been earlier.
"I don't know what I did," Robbie eyed the boy grimly and picked up the Pete's wrist. There was still a pulse, that was good. But the boy wouldn't move. He thought for a moment and scrunched up his face. How did he fix this. None of the spells he'd been taught did anything like this. Robbie cast a glance at Pete and got an idea, he put his hand on the boy's chest and pushed down slightly, he felt his magic leak out of him and wrap around the boy's body. And then the whole sensation just pulled off of the boy and Pete gasped and sat up quickly. Robbie, not wishing to try to explain to a baffled Loop, bounced out of the little house and joined his mother and father.
He prayed the strange things would never happen like that again. Reappearing things, moving objects, floating books. Fine. Boy's that didn't move. Not good.
"What was that about Robbie?" Mother asked, looking a little worried.
"Er, twas nothing," Robbie shrugged and looked away from his parents. Father didn't know about his magic. Mother knew all too well. Robbie figured Mother and Father would speak of it later. Most likely without him around. Robbie turned when he heard a robin's soft call and spied the little bird in the tree. It's wing looked funny, and the bird was calling for help. Robbie scampered up the tree, ignoring his confused parents and picked up the little bird.
"Shh, shh. It's alright. Let me see your wing," The bird settled when it felt his presence as friendly. "That's a good girl," Robbie lightly felt the wing. He left his hand on the bird's wing and directed his magic into it. It followed along quite obligingly and swirled around the broken limb. Now heal, he nudged, and it did as he asked. The bird tested it's wing and then twittered it's thanks and flew away, singing a song of praise about the forest eyed boy with the healing hands. Robbie smiled to himself and scrambled down the tree. He looked up at his mother and gave a small sigh.
"I must explain, but, at home, please," He pleaded, looking away from her.
When they got home Robbie arranged three chairs in his room and took a seat on his bed. Mother, Father and Grandfather joined him soon after, wondering what Robbie was going to speak about.
"Before I begin, I must inform you that I am in all ways completely sane," Robbie looked at them each in turn and then riveted his eyes to the carpet.
"Son, y-you don't need to," Mother said lightly.
"I know you don't wish me to, but it is getting harder to keep this a secret." Robbie took a deep breath and began. "Mother may not have told you, but, I'm not her true child. I appeared in a flash of green lightning three months after I was born, crying on her bed with no parents around and no explanation. And I suppose my strange arrival may have been an understatement for how strange I truly am. But, nevertheless, I am grateful to Grandfather and Mother for keeping me and I view them as my family, though we share no blood.
"I was six years old when I began dreaming of a man named Balthazar, an apprentice of the great sorcerer Merlin, and he has taught me how to control my magic. I have studied for three years under him, and he is a good master and teacher. Thus, the healing I can perform. I did not wish to worry you, and I'm grateful that you see me as a son, but, I know that you are not my father, no matter how much we look alike. And so I tell you this with the utmost faith in you and trust you will not leak this information, to any one."
Robbie did not watch his mother's shock at learning that he had found a magical teacher while he slept, he did not see the strong emotions that played over Father's face, and he avoided even thinking about how his grandfather would take this news. A chair scraped, boots edged into his periphery and then strong hands rested against his shoulder.
"I thank you, young Robert, for placing so much trust in a man who is not kin. For being honest with me when I have not been with you." Robbie looked up at Father and gave a weak smile. "I am not you're father, as you know. But, I am not Sir Robert Locksley, either. My name is Robin Longstride, please forgive me for lying to you," Robbie held the man's blue gaze before nodding,
"I understand why you did it, Father. And before you ask, you have been more a father to me these past days than I have known. Though I view my master Balthazar as a father as well, you have given me what no one else could, and I respect you for staying with us and helping Nottingham and my mother. We needed that," Robbie fell silent and the man pulled him into a hug.
"Thank you," He heard muttered against his ear, and all Robbie could do was smile. It felt strange, knowing this man was not kin or Mother's husband. But this was a man she loved, a man whom Robbie could see standing up for justice and goodness in this dark world. He prayed only for protection to keep this warm fire from being snuffed.
Robbie sat by Grandfather at the bonfire that evening, watching the people dance and laugh and sing. He was glad Father had proposed this. The people of Nottingham seemed to enjoy the festivities and delights and it brought back vitality to the townsfolk. It made him happy to see. Father came back over, with a mug of mead for Grandfather.
"Music, laughter, the crackle of the bonfire, the roasting pig. Life has returned. You have returned it, Robert." Robbie smiled, hearing the joy in his grandfather's voice. It was nice to have this back, this closeness and joy. Robbie's ears perked as he picked up the careful steps of hunters, and then, a bird's call. He turned to scan the night behind him, his eyes adjusting fast. His gaze locked on the form of a young man, about thirty paces away. Robbie excused himself from Grandfather's side and trotted off towards him. It was that vague sense of knowing that had him call out.
"Loop!" He stopped several paces from the teen, "Have you come to join us?" He couldn't help the smile that broke over his face. He liked the boy, a kindred spirit. But he loved his family too much to runaway and join the band of boys in the Sherwood.
"Robbie," The boy seemed to startle lightly. "How did you know it was me?"
"I've always been good at remembering people," Robbie shrugged. It was half true. "Come, before all the food's gone!"
"Ah, no," Loop stopped him with a hand, lightly resting on his shoulder. "I came to talk to you. About Pete, and the bird,"
"Oh?" Robbie cocked his head to the side and watched Loop's grain sack mask as it rustled in the breeze.
"Yes, you – that is ta say – uhm – Pete, before you did that thing, he was very ill. And now, he's – he's jest not," Loop sounded a little confused. "And then, with the bird. It's wing was broken, wasn't it. I could see it, twisted all awkward, like. And then you jest held it. And it flew away jest fine. What did ya do?"
"I – er – I'm not supposed to talk about it," Robbie ducked his head in shame. "Mother doesn't want me to let it out. It's a secret after all," Loop raised his arm to his mouth and coughed lightly. "Are you sick?" Loop's coughing got a bit more violent. Robbie bit his lower lip and stepped forward, pressing his hand to Loop's chest. He wasn't sure if his magic would know how to cure illness, like it did with broken bones and cuts. It was different with Loop. He could feel the sickness in the older boy, and his magic swarmed into the teen's body. It flushed through his veins and beat the sickness out of him. Robbie let his hand slide up to Loop's throat, he felt the sting of soreness there and he soothed it with a bit of magic.
"Loop? Loop, are you okay?" He whispered. The older boy had stopped coughing, stopped moving, stopped breathing. He stared down at Robbie, and Robbie looked back up timidly.
"I – I don't think I'm sick anymore," Loop managed.
"Oh, good," Robbie sighed, "It worked then. I didn't know I could do that."
"Robbie, what are you?" Robbie's eyebrows furrowed.
"Human, of course," he answered. Loop just stared at him, anyway. And Robbie could feel a slightly embarrassed flush crawl up his face. "I should probably get back,"
"Will you come by tomorrow? We've got some boys who are very ill," Loop asked, grabbing Robbie's hand.
"I'll try. I've got lessons tomorrow," Robbie bit his lip and nodded. It was something about Loop. His magic seemed to draw him toward the older boy. He watched Loop for a moment and then nodded once again, more determined. "Tomorrow, then,"
Loop nodded to him once and then melted back into the night, like a ghost. Robbie watched the spot he'd disappeared into for a moment before turning back to the fire and his family. The night away from the bonfire was chiller than he'd thought, he shivered lightly. A firm hand came to rest on his shoulder.
"I thought you'd at least have common sense, magelet," The man at his side huffed.
"Master Balthazar! You're here!" Robbie forgot all about the cold and launched himself into the man's side, arms wrapping around his thin but well muscled waist.
"Yes, yes, I'm here," Balthazar growled gruffly but gave a pleased sigh. "Took forever and a half to find you, though. What spells and enchantments are you under? I've never seen such a hiding charm before. None of my magic worked in locating you, so I had to find you the mortal way,"
"Oh, what is the world coming to when Master Balthazar must find things like a mortal," Robbie rolled his eyes appreciatively and smiled up at the man. He turned back towards the small party by the fire and grabbed his master's hand tugging him towards the people.
"Come, you must meet Mother and Father, and Grandfather! I know they will be most pleased to meet you,"
"Hold a moment, magelet," Balthazar paused him.
"Yes?" Robbie turned his wide gem-like eyes on his master.
"That mortal boy, a word of warning. Falling in love with mortals only gets you hurt," Balthazar set his fingers under the boy's chin and held his gaze. "They do not live the span of our lives and will wither and die within too short a time,"
"I know," Robbie nodded, "You have shown me Merlin's past, and given me the stories to learn from. I will not mourn for the passing of life that fuels the cycle. My magic is simply drawn to him, that is all."
"You're very detached for a boy of merely nine," Balthazar grumbled.
"Nine and a half," Robbie clarified, commencing his tugging at his master's sleeve. "In all seriousness, however, whether my heart is given to mortal or sorcerer, besides, I shall only love one who can understand me and keep my faith and trust."
"Hnn," Balthazar muttered and followed his young apprentice. He had a feeling they boy wouldn't head his advice anyway.
"Mother!" Robbie skidded to a halt beside the dark haired woman, between her and the chair of his grandfather.
"Robbie? What is it?" She turned to him only to have her gaze drift down to his had curled deep within a man's long cloak and up to the face of Robbie's captive.
"Mother, I did tell you to expect a guest. This is my master, Balthazar Blake," Robbie introduced. "Master, may I introduce my mother, Lady Marian Locksley or Nottingham,"
"A pleasure to meet you, madam," Balthazar bowed respectfully.
"And you, Sir," She curtsied.
"Your son is quite the sorcerer," He acknowledged.
"I'm sure he wouldn't be quite as good without your help," She flushed, any compliment to her son was wholly received and cherished, her heart filled with pride.
"Marian, who is this?" Robin came back over to them along with Grandfather's old friend Sir William Marshal.
"Father, this is Master Balthazar Blake, the man I spoke of earlier," Robbie introduced. "This is Robin Longstride, my acting Father,"
"Ah, the man himself from the painting, Robbie spent much of our lessons discussing you," Balthazar said after his respectful bow.
"Me?" Robin raised a curious eyebrow.
"I am easily distracted by new and foreign things," Robbie shrugged blushing under the scrutiny of his parent's gaze.
"Magelet, did you tell them why I came?" Balthazar asked.
"You said to leave the explanation to you, Master Balthazar," Robbie smirked.
"Really?" Marian raised an accusing brow. "Why did you travel to find us, Master Blake?"
Balthazar cleared his throat experimentally before beginning.
"Robbie is in need of thorough training that I can no longer provide through our shared dreams, so I have come to take him with me to complete his training,"
"Take my son?" Mother practically cried.
"Only for a few years, he will be back once he can control his magic," Master Balthazar explained quickly.
"We should finish this discussion elsewhere," Robin broke in with a harsh whisper.
"Agreed," Balthazar looked about them and frowned.
"I will take Master Balthazar to the house," Robbie sighed, so much for Mother's ease and acceptance, "Please, do not stay much longer," He turned and led the old sorcerer away from the party. When they arrived at Pepperharrow Robbie was surprised to find a baffled and drunk Sheriff in their courtyard. The Sheriff looked up as the entered and seemed to ignore Balthazar.
"Therhe youh are, bhoy!" The man sloshed towards him drunkenly.
"What do you want?" Robbie's eyes narrowed. The Sheriff seemed to take a good look at him and realized he was holding Balthazar's cloak in a tight fist, knuckles completely white.
"I shug-gesht youh move off, Shir," the Sheriff demanded, making a grab for Robbie who slipped out of his hold quickly and backed away. "Thish lith-tle shlut ish mhine"
Balthazar's hands flashed for a moment in a blur of movement that gave even Robbie a hard time to focus on. The sorcerer caught the man's grabbing paws and dragged the drunk Sheriff towards the gates.
"Never. I repeat, never, speak of my apprentice that way!" Balthazar hissed tossing the man out onto the pathway and slamming the wooden gates shut behind him.
"Balthazar, are you angry?" Robbie looked up at the man in shock. He wasn't sure if he should be happy, horrified or worried.
"Robbie," The man sighed down at him.
"I'm not a whore," Robbie shook his head, "I'm not! I may be pretty but I don't – I don't-" Robbie felt the tears sting his eyes and he brought his hands up to fist them away with a choked growl. He was not going to cry, dammit.
"It's alright," Balthazar knelt, resting a soothing hand on the boy's shoulder. "I know. I know,"
Robbie took a deep breath and collected himself.
"I hate that man," He said hoarsely and then turned and stalked into the house, Balthazar on his heels. The house was empty and quiet. The servants had the night off, and his guardians were all on their way back home, hopefully. He offered Balthazar a chair and then sat in one of his own after building up the fire.
"Robbie I have a request to make," Balthazar said after a moment.
"Anything, Master," Robbie looked over at the man.
"May I examine the charms you have on you?"
"Certainly," Robbie nodded.
Balthazar knelt in front of him and concentrated deeply.
"It seems to be centered here," Balthazar placed his hand lightly over Robbie's forehead.
"Oh, so it has to do with my scar?"
"Scar? You never had a scar in the dreams," Balthazar looked at it and frowned. "Dark magic," the words sounded like a curse as they rolled off his tongue.
"Oh, what else?" This was curiously new to him.
"It looks like a killing curse mixed with a transportation spell," Balthazar inspected it, prodding the thing with his magic. A stray poke sent Robbie into a state of variable shock and sent lightning blots of shivers down his spine. It was unpleasant and oddly funny at the same time.
"Please, do not do that again," Robbie shuddered when Balthazar's magic pulled away from his scar.
"It's strange that they placed it so close to your magical channel. By all I know you should have been dead the moment that curse hit you, but whatever it was got deflected and changed into that traveling spell. I wonder what happened,"
"Would this be why I landed in my mother's bed as a three month old infant?"
"Most likely," Balthazar shrugged and sat back in his seat.
"Odd," Robbie muttered under his breath, Very odd, came his own echoing reply.
The night of explanations was long, as Balthazar was not the only concern of his parents. Robin Longstride was returning to his own name and title...and he was leaving. Robbie almost wanted to cry. Almost. But, he knew that if he held on too tightly he would lose the man in the end. Balthazar stayed for the night, and Marian had finally consented to allowing him to leave with his master in a few days. If all went well he would be back in several years.
Nottingham, England: The Next Morning
Robbie woke to the sun with a strange taste on his tongue. It was apprehension and fear, both of which did not sit well with him and made his spine shiver with protest. Whatever was coming was decidedly evil and meant harm. He couldn't focus on his lessons with Balthazar or Grandfather Walter and because he was getting no where Balthazar seemed agitated.
"Something's wrong?" He asked.
"Yes, something is very wrong," Robbie did not stray his gaze from the hilltop and that's when he froze, the horse and rider appeared.
"It's here," He hissed and clambered down from his perch on the wall. Balthazar held him still in the shadows.
"Best see what they want first," He muttered grimly. Robbie only nodded to agree, he was not happy.
"Locksley!" The rider called, dismounting as the rest of his men pulled into their courtyard.
"Who calls here?" Robbie watched, horrified, as his grandfather stepped out.
"I call for Robert Locksley!" The man said his nose practically in the air.
"My son is not here to answer you," Grandfather replied.
"That's the truth, because he's dead in a French ditch." The other men laughed as this man talked. Robbie inched forward, he needed to help his grandfather.
"And who are you, sir, to say so?" Grandfather asked.
"Who am I?" The man retorted, inching closer. Robbie watched, disgusted, as the man's tongue ran to a sewn up slash at the edge of his lips. "I'm the one who killed him," Robbie was lucky and cursed for his sensitive hearing, because he heard the words that were nothing more than whisper. Grandfather swung at him.
"Fight me, if you dare!" Robbie made to rush to aide his Grandfather but, Balthazar's hand stayed him.
"Robbie, if you go out there, they will kill you," He shook his head. Robbie looked at him pitifully and then back at his grandfather.
"Lord have mercy," The cruel man laughed and toyed with Grandfather as the blind man attempted to fight. Robbie saw all too clearly when the man made up his mind to kill Sir Walter and broke from Balthazar's hands, just too late. He watched as his grandfather's body fell in slow motion before him and then the blood was pounding in his ears. How dare! How Dare! HOW DARE HE! He felt the magic swell beneath his skin, fueled by his anger and sorrow. He did not notice Balthazar blanch at the sight of his quivering, furious, powerful apprentice. It was not Balthazar he was aiming for to be frightened. It was that monster that bastardized mortal.
Robbie's fingers drew his saixe knife from his belt and his magic thrummed. With a slight pop he disappeared from Balthazar's side and reappeared above the man, dropping at an angle to tumble him to the ground. The man never knew what hit him, the large knife sliding home between the base of his skull and his neck. The ring of taunting, jeering Frenchmen jumped at the appearance of the little boy who had just assassinated their leader. Fear building when those thundering green eyes looked around at the circle of men. They did not survive long after their master died. Balthazar helped with that.
But it was not the help with the killing that Robbie needed. It was the overload of grief that spilled as the last corpse fell to the ground. He was half over nine summers. He was young and innocent and stained with blood and guilt and grief. It was all Balthazar could do to hold the child as he cried and screamed and called for a man who would never wake. It was torture.
It was during this that Robbie finally understood just what happened when you got too close to a mortal. But, despite his pain and the tears and the endless hurt that came with Grandfather's death, it did not outweigh the joy and the knowledge and the life that were left in his memories. So when he finally stopped crying long enough to register that he was lying in bed curled against his Master before he passed out, he was relieved that Grandfather had lived a full and fortunate life and the pain was eased a bit.
Father left to fight Phillip of France with King John and the other nobles and Robbie convinced Loop and Marian that going to 'help' fight was about the dumbest thing they could do because Robin would just worry and get himself killed. So they waited, and he returned home safe, though he was now an decreed outlaw, and once Robin was safely home withing the Sherwood Forest, Robbie left with Balthazar.
Sherwood Forest, Nottingham 1205: Six Years Later
Loop and a few of his boys, who were now young men, were watching the stranger who walked calmly and almost familiarly down the path to Nottingham. Despite the warm-ish weather for the autumn months this stranger wore a dark cloak with a deep hood that covered most of his face, excepting the delicate set of the chin. Nobleman, Loop sneered in his own head, watching the figure progress down the lane. He made a few signals before positioning himself a few hundred feet ahead and lounging in the middle of the road. The stranger stopped almost ten feet in front of him. Loop turned his face to look at the man but his words were cut off by the stranger's own voice.
"Loop? Is that you?" The question made Loop take a step back.
"Who's askin'?" Loop countered. The brilliant, warm laugh that answered was both pleasing and unnerving but, he wanted to hear it again.
"Forgotten me after only six years? You offend me! Why I thought about you at least once everyday," The stranger's voice mellowed out into a sultry honey liquor. Loop just stared at the man, well, boy, really. The kid couldn't have been over fifteen now that he looked at him.
"You really don't remember me, do you?" The stranger sighed, pulling down his hood. Loop's jaw practically dropped at the familiar tanned face of a boy he once knew and the twinkling green eyes that had haunted most of his dreams. The boy just smiled at him.
"Hello, again," Robbie Locksley laughed charmingly at the grown up Loop who stood before him.
"H-Hello, Robbie," Loop managed to breath.
"Are Robin and Marian still around?" Robbie cocked his head to the side cutely.
"Yeah, come on, I'll show you to the hideout," Loop pried his eyes off of the boy and led him through the trees.
"I missed the Sherwood," he heard Robbie's smile in the loving tone of voice.
"We all missed you," Loop heard himself say and he mentally kicked himself, Stupid, Stupid, Stupid! Why don't you just tell him you think he's beautiful and drag him off to ravish him! IDIOT! Robbie laughed and he could just imagine that blinding white smile of the boys face. Yeah, he really needed to stop thinking that way.
"What happened to that Master of yours?" Loop cleared his throat and asked.
"Oh, Master Balthazar finished teaching me all I needed to know." The loving way Robbie said the sorcerer's name made Loop feel unreasonably jealous. Loop, you haven't seen him in six years. You really have no right to feel this way, he told himself over and over, but the words just did nothing to help. Loop engaged in small talk until they reached the small establishment for the runaways and Robin's merry men.
"Robin, Lady Marian, Visitor to see you!" Loop called. Every head in the vicinity turned towards Loop and Robbie.
"Robert!" Lady Marian's tender face peeked out of a nearby shed before she rushed to hug him.
"Told you I'd be back, Mother," Robbie hugged her tightly.
"I missed you, dear," She breathed before stepping back and taking a good look at him. "You seem to have grown well, though you're a bit short. And really, Robert, what possessed you to keep your hair so long, it's practically my length."
"Sorry, Master Balthazar's study is a bit...removed, from the town" Robbie grimaced, running a stray hand through his long black tresses.
"Robbie!" Another person scooped him up in a bear hug and twirled him around.
"Father!" He smiled brightly at Robin and laughed.
"We missed you, son." Robin said lightly, placing him back on the ground.
"It was only six years," Robbie shrugged.
"Six years is over half of how long I was away for, boy," Robin arched an eyebrow.
"Yes, but it wasn't ten years!" Robbie smiled.
"Agreed," Robin nodded.
"Robbie, would you like to meet your little sister?" Marian asked.
"Sister?" Robbie's ears perked
"Her name is Victoria," Marian waved forward a five year old girl with thick brown hair and crystal blue eyes.
"Hello Victoria," Robbie knelt in front of the girl with his most winning smile, "I'm your older brother Robert,"
"Big brother?" She asked, eyes going wide. Robbie was able to nod several times before his arms were full of little sister. She snuggled into his chest with a smile.
"We told her all about you, she's wanted to meet you for the last year and a half," Robin smiled at them.
"Oh," Robbie blushed, looking down at the little girl.
Robbie fell right in with the goings on of everyday life in the Sherwood. He helped Marian around and kept the younger children busy and laughing. And sometimes, when things went wrong or people got sick, he healed them. He mainly avoided using his magic for frivolous things when he could do it himself. He wasn't one to use a shortcut, after all. And he increasingly found his attention being divided between family, chores and Loop. Not that he minded. His magic still pulled him to that rebellious young man, and it was nice, knowing things hadn't changed too much. He was shocked to learn that Loop had yet to take a wife though he was in his early twenties. Which wasn't on the whole strange but, Loop seemed to be admired by many of the women and yet he hadn't made an offer of marriage to any.
He found out why almost a month after his arrival.
"Robbie, you home?" A knock on the wood framing his little cottage warned him of his visitor.
"Come in," Robbie called, capping his ink bottle and wiping his quill dry on a scrap of cloth. He stood and turned around just as his visitor entered his little study. It was Loop, of course.
"Good afternoon, Loop," Robbie smiled at him.
"Good afternoon, Robbie," The young man replied. Robbie motioned to a chair and Loop sat down.
"What brings you here?"
"I needed to speak with you, in private," Loop swallowed loudly. Robbie smiled and threw up a small silencing shield so they could not be overheard.
"Alright, I'm listening,"
"Robbie, I've known you for six years, even if you were gone for most of that and I've only been a true part of your life for the past few weeks, but," He hesitated.
"But?" Robbie urged.
"-But, I think I might...love you..." Loop gulped and looked away from Robbie. He just needed to get it out of his system. Loving another man was immoral. It was a sin against God, it wasn't natural. But he did. He loved Robbie. He felt it in every fibber of his being. Screw how fast it had been. He'd felt it when he was sixteen dying of a coughing-fever and then been touched by a green-eyed angel who cured him in mere moments.
"Really?" Robbie sounded surprised, he looked surprised too. He wasn't used to surprises anymore, he'd gotten really good at scrying, though he tried to stay out of his own future. But, it was just...shocking to hear the words fall from Loop's mouth. He watched Loop nod softly, staring intently at the dirt floor. Robbie's heart soared and he swore he was flying as he leapt to stand in front of Loop. He placed his hands on the sides of Loops face and pulled the man's face up to meet his. He smiled down at Loop probably looking like an idiot (more like an angel to Loop) and then kissed the man lightly on the lips. The contact made him shiver, it was the most satisfying thing in the world. That one, single kiss. And he swore he heard lightning crack and thunder roll on the distance.
"I love you, too," He murmured over Loop's lips when he drew away. One hand running through the man's short hair, the other cupping his cheek. Loop sighed and his shoulder's relaxed as he twined his arms around Robbie's lithe figure. He was ashamed but, proud and delighted and in love. And that's all he really needed to cancel out his shame. He held Robbie close and leaned up to kiss the boy again, this time he dominated the kiss. And Robbie willingly let him. Robbie wrapped his arms around Loop's neck and let the man lead the kiss. He twined his fingers in Loops hair and twirled strands of it around as they kissed. It was simple and sweet and all they were willing to risk at the moment.
"I'll be back later tonight," Loop grinned at him from the doorway.
"I'll be here, waiting," Robbie smiled after him.
Twenty lovely years was the span of their relationship. Blissful with a few unavoidable bumps. And when Loop died. It hurt. But, Robbie always looked back on his memories with fondness and love and never regretted a moment of his life with Loop. It took centuries to heal that wound, but when he couldn't take it, he went to Balthazar, who always welcomed him with open arms and a friendly smile. Robbie was a wizard after all, and he had many, many more centuries to live.
Ending AN: Okay, I admit it! After a week of writing this, and...well...writing this, I am too lazy too go back and check for minor grammatical/spelling errors. Sorry. I'm just too tired to pick through 19 pages of written work that took FOREVER and a half to write and come out of my brain. Ugh, and I'm not even happy with this. Whatever, I still hope you liked it. At least for the fluffy ending. I was gonna write sex, but it would have just killed my slow moving plot/story line and just ruined the mood I was going for. Which still didn't turn out how I wanted. (pouting face). I don't like a lot of this, and I really want to know why Harry/Robbie decided to be a little bitch and steal my thunder! I was going to have this epic scene where he answers when Godfrey calls for Robert Locksley, but then Balthazar got all caring and shit and then Robbie just has to go and be all assassiny! Why don't you listen to me! I'm the one writing! And now I'm just bitching, sorry. Review if you want to. I love feedback. And I'll still write a request fic for whoever can guess where and who I got Robbie's nickname 'magelet' from.
As Lives-in-Fantasy replied, 'magelet' comes from Tamora Pierce's 'The Immortals' Series. It is used by Numair for his student Daine.