FAMILY REUNION
"After my mother and I and my stepfather Luke moved to Leicester, the only news I ever heard from Nottingham was that the Sheriff was dead."
John Little sat at the table with Robin, Marian, and Eleanor after they ate their meal, and they shared their stories of the past twenty years.
He recounted to them his childhood memories of being dragged off to Nottingham Castle's dungeon with Luke because they could not pay the Sheriff's tax. He recalled the horror he felt upon seeing his beloved mother thrown in prison, too, for protesting their arrests, and the dread they all felt as they awaited their fate.
But the most vivid of his memories was the astonishing moment when he learned that the sullen, silent man in the next cell was the father he'd never known.
"I can't tell you how happy I am that my father's still alive," he said as he finished his tale. "I feared the worst, that it might be too late to find him."
He pulled off the cord with its little wooden tag that he wore around his neck, and handed it to Robin. Robin looked closely at it.
"Do you remember?" John asked. "You and your gang gave me this before I left. I've treasured it all these years."
Robin rubbed the tag between his fingers. Will had carved it, as he had all their tags. Will Scarlett and Djaq, their onetime fellow outlaws and dear friends. So far away now, half a world away. They hadn't heard from them in a long time….
"Yes, I remember." He swallowed the lump in his throat and handed the tag back to John.
Marian sent Eleanor to Gisborne Hall, to invite Guy and Meg to dine with them. John's eyes widened at the mention of Guy of Gisborne.
"He's still in Locksley?"
Robin smiled. "It's okay, John. Gisborne is quite a changed man, you'll see. We'll explain it all when he gets here."
When suppertime arrived, and Guy and his family entered Locksley Manor, the two were formally introduced. John shook Guy's extended hand uneasily.
"Sir Guy," he said, "you have no idea how much you terrified me when I was a child."
Guy bowed acknowledgement. "For that I owe you an apology," he said. "But you've nothing to fear from me now, I assure you. Those days are long over. And your father is a good friend to me, John."
This required more explanation, and the conversation continued throughout supper and beyond. Allan a Dale stopped by later in the evening to talk with Robin.
"Your father?" he said after he met John. "He's an old bear. Just as much of a grouch as ever. But he'll be some happy to see you!"
"We should have a reunion," Marian said. "Let's get everyone together here tomorrow, everyone who's still around."
"That's a great idea!" said Robin. "A reunion! I wish my brother Archer was here, and Rodger, and Tuck. You never met Tuck, did you, John? No, that's right, he joined our gang after you left. Well, perhaps you'll have the chance to meet him someday."
"Someday," said John. "But right now I want to see my father more than anything."
Robin sent a servant to Bonchurch to ask Much and Eve to join their party at noon the following day. It was decided that the best way for Little John to see his son would be for someone to fetch him from the orphanage and bring him back to Locksley.
"I'll go get him," offered Allan. "I'll have him here by morning. And I'll keep the reason a surprise."
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"Allan, what is this? Draggin' me off to Locksley in the wee hours? I've work to do! The orphans—"
"The orphans will do fine without you for a day or two," replied Allan patiently as he helped Little John into the saddle. "They got all them nuns looking after 'em. They won't miss you."
"Hmph," grunted Little John. "And how did you manage that?"
"I'm good with nuns, remember?"
He winked at John, but then he saw the weariness in John's eyes, and it sobered him.
"Look, John, not bein' funny, but you shouldn't be working anyway. You're not well. You need rest."
"I'll rest in my grave, thank you," John shot back. "So, you're not goin' to tell me what this is all about?"
"No, I'm not," Allan grinned, "so stop askin'."
They arrived at Locksley Manor early in the morning. The house was still dark.
"Now what?" Little John groused. "Everyone's asleep, by the look of it. A fine time you picked for a visit, Allan. I'm hungry and I'm tired, and no one is up."
"Quit bellyaching and just wait," answered Allan as they entered the house. "I'll see if anyone's awake yet."
A short time later Allan came back down the stairs, with a yawning Robin and Marian behind him, and a young man rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"John!" Robin exclaimed. "Good to see you, my friend!" He hugged Little John, and then moved aside as John stepped over to stand in front of his father. Little John looked the young man up and down.
"Have we met?" he asked after a moment's silence. All the others immediately burst out laughing.
"Is everyone but me in on some kind of joke?" he muttered as the laughter died down.
Robin's grin spread across his face. "Don't you know this man?" he teased.
"Now why would I?" answered Little John. "Robin, I've ridden all night while listenin' to Allan's non-stop chatter, and now you want to quiz me when I'm half-asleep."
"Look closely at him," Robin continued.
Little John frowned at the man standing in front of him. He was sure he'd never seen the lad before. But there was something. The eyes, that was it. He'd seen those eyes on someone else. They were—Alice's eyes!
"You're not—no, you can't be! John? My son?"
"Yes, Papa, it's me," cried John, and he flung himself into his father's open arms.
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After they had been thoroughly washed with tears of joy, Little John's kind brown eyes glowed with pride as he looked upon his son.
There was much for him to be proud of. His son had grown into a fine, hardworking man. His stepfather Luke had taught him the cooper's trade, and they now partnered together in Luke's shop.
"How is your mother?" Marian asked, with a sidelong glance at Little John.
"Mama is well," John told them. "She and Luke have made a good life for themselves." He added, "They knew I was coming here, and they asked me to send their best wishes to you. They remember you fondly. You saved them, and me, from the Sheriff, and we haven't forgotten."
John's recollections returned to the Sheriff's infamous "festival of pain" and the torment they and others were put through when they could not pay his exorbitant taxes. Guy looked distinctly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken. He stared at the floor and said nothing. Robin noticed his embarrassment, however, and quickly turned the talk to a more cheerful subject.
"Nottingham is well rid of him, and we have a good Sheriff now," he said. "You haven't told us about yourself yet, John. Do you have a lass?"
"Yes, I'm married, going on seven years now. We have a little boy. He's five. We named him John. My wife would have come with me, but she's expecting another baby soon. I want you to meet her, Papa, and your grandson, as soon as we can arrange it."
"I'm a grandfather! Did you hear that?" Little John beamed as his friends congratulated him. "I'm a grandfather!"
John's voice boomed out as strong as ever, but his thick, rough hair and beard were far more grey than brown, and his craggy face was drawn and thin. His once powerful shoulders were stooped and his big hands were gnarled and swollen.
Robin hadn't seen Little John since the spring, and was startled by the change in him. He had hoped to find John well recovered from his bout of illness over the preceding winter, but the summer had not revitalized him. Mighty Little John, who had saved his friends from certain death so many times by the sheer strength of his body, had shrunken and diminished into an old man. A sudden, deep ache of sadness clutched at Robin's heart.
"I'm not sure your father is well enough to travel," he cautioned young John. "It might be better if you could arrange to come back here."
But Little John would not be put off a moment longer. "No, Robin, I'm fine. I'm going back with him. I want to see my grandchildren."
The reunion around the dinner table in Locksley Manor that day was one none of them ever forgot, least of all John Little. As he listened to the tales of adventure that his father's circle of companions swapped between themselves, he got to know the man who was his father.
They stayed on at the manor for the better part of a week, visiting the family and the villagers, but John needed to get back to his wife and child. Plans were made for his father to accompany him.
"Are you sure you feel up to it?" Robin asked Little John, alarmed at the man's frequent, hollow coughs and the rattling in his chest. "It's a long ride to Leicester, and the weather's turning colder."
"Robin, stop worrying about me. I'd ride through a blizzard all the way to Scotland to see my grandson."
John did not add, 'and I want to see Alice,' but he thought it. He wanted to see her, just once, to know she had truly forgiven him for abandoning her and little John. But would she want to see him after so many years, or would it only stir up painful memories best left undisturbed? He did not know, couldn't possibly imagine what awaited him when he should see Alice again, but he had to find out just the same, for he'd never stopped loving her.
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Little John and his son prepared to return to the orphanage the next day, with plans to set out for Leicester on the following day. The families gathered to bid them farewell.
"Goodbye, John," said Guy as he embraced Little John. "Be safe. Send word to us when you return."
"I will, my friend. And you get that son of yours to come home so I can see him. I'm so sorry I wasn't there to watch his first tournament, but he sent me the nicest letter and told me all about it. I'm proud of him. You be sure to tell him that."
Guy smiled. "He's long overdue for a visit home, and so is Archer. I'll see to it that they are here when you get back."
"You're welcome to visit us anytime," Robin said to John Little. "Bring your family with you."
"Thank you," said John. "Perhaps we will."
"No 'perhaps' about it," Little John said firmly. "This is your father speaking, lad. You will come back here, and that's an order!"
And so it was that father and son departed for the orphanage with merry laughter ringing in their ears. As they rode off, the others waved goodbye, and turned and walked back toward the manor.
But Robin lingered a moment longer. He stood in the road leading out of Locksley, until Little John and his son disappeared around a curve and were lost from sight.
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"I'm concerned about your father," the elderly nun said to John Little shortly after sunrise the next morning.
He'd had a tour of the orphanage after they arrived, and met many of the children his father loved and cared for. The little ones hugged his father and climbed on his lap as if he'd been gone for years. He would put none of the children off, no matter how tired he was, so it fell upon John to finally send the children to their rooms and remind his father that they needed to make an early start.
"Goodnight, Papa. Get some rest."
"I'll be up long before you, lad!" his father had declared as he shut his bedroom door.
And now the head nun was telling him that his father hadn't risen at his usual time.
"The lamps are always lit and the fires are always burning by the time the children are up. It's a matter of pride with your father. Of course, he has been unwell. We've urged him to slow down and let some of the older lads help him with the heavy work, but he's ever so stubborn, you know."
"Yes, I know." John smiled. "I'll check on him. He probably overslept. It's been a busy week."
"If he's asleep, best to leave him be. The boys can take care of his tasks this morning."
"Yes. And we can set off a bit later, too. There's really no rush."
John went to his father's room and knocked on the door. There was no response. He knocked louder. Still nothing. He turned the knob and slowly eased the door open. A single candle burned on the bedside table, and a satchel of clothes packed for the journey sat on a chair in the corner.
"Papa," he called gently. "Time to wake up."
He walked over to the bed. His father lay quietly under the thick bedcovering. His eyes were closed. His careworn features appeared softer in the dim light.
"Papa, you're going to sleep through breakfast if you don't wake up."
The silence was unnerving. He choked back a sudden fear, and shook his father's shoulder.
"Papa, wake up!"
In the utter stillness, by the light of the flickering candle, he saw the expression of painless peace that lay upon his father's face.
"Papa?"
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Archer came into the sitting room of his suite in the castle just as Rodger was opening a letter. He threw his coat over a chair, and unbuckled his sword belt and tossed it and his sword carelessly across his bed. He walked over to Rodger and peered down.
"What's that?" Archer asked.
"A letter."
"I know that! Who's it from? Eleanor?"
"No, it's not from Eleanor. It's from my mother."
"Oh. So, what's the news from Locksley?"
"Give me a minute to read it, will you?"
"Sorry."
The letter was short. 'Rodger, come home as soon as you can, his mother had written. 'Archer, too. Your father and Robin need you. Please come quickly.'
He looked up at his uncle.
"Archer, we've got to go home to Locksley, now. My mother's asking. It's urgent."
"She's always begging you to come home. What else is new?"
"No. This is different."
Archer came over and put a hand on Rodger's bowed shoulder.
"Rodger, what is it?" he asked as he glimpsed the lad's pale face.
Rodger gazed down at the letter, its few lines blurred by the tears that filled his eyes.
"It's Little John," he murmured. "He's dead."
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Author's Note: Okay, readers, don't kill me for this, please! But you knew it had to happen sometime, right? After all, the gang is getting older, and Little John was the oldest one. Nothing against him personally, either-I really like LJ.
I drew on some elements from "Dead Man Walking", from season 1, for this chapter. Many of you will recognize the story of little Little John, his mother, Luke, and of course the Sheriff's "festival of pain", which ended quite badly for him :)
Thank you for reading! More to come!