sooo my weekend was cut abruplty short...and thus i am back and writing again...which is an escape in its own special way. this is one of my favorite chapters because, even though there is not much action there is revelation and angst and may i say i worked really hard to figure some of this stuff out...trying to be accurate without having to be totally accuarte---the beauty of the robin hood world...so read review and enjoy noting again that i do not own robin hood BBC or any other version out there---i would have tried to get Jonas armstrong to renew his contract and for Lucy Griffths not to leave after season two...sniff

Chapter Twelve Fathers and Sons

After a week of bumpy riding and trails that were certainly not meant for the light hearted to travel upon, the gang arrived at Burgundy. The Abby of Cîteaux lay before them.

"Here we are," said Eve feeling good about herself. When first she had met this gang she was forced to spy on them, but now almost two years later she felt accepted. Maybe that was the magic of Robin Hood. Then Eve glanced at Much and he smiled at her.

Then again, maybe, and most certainly yes, it is not Robin's magic at all is it Eve?

She blushed despite her attempts to remain serine and turned around again to look at the Abby with the rest of the gang.

The Abby was quite small but still beautiful. Many trees of different sorts and sizes were growing outside the Abby and ivy was growing on the sides of the walls. Robin got off his horse and looked around at the entire structure. He could understand why his brother would be comfortable here. He could see the appeal of the nature surrounding the monks and priests as they spent their days in prayer.

His stomach began to hurt as he thought of his brother Stephan. And Robin realized that he must come face to face with his brother again. There was no turning back.

While Robin mused over his course of action, the rest of the gang got off of their horses and walked up to Robin. Much intentionally walked beside Eve. Very slowly, and he believed subtly, he took hold of Eve's hand in his. He then gave it a light squeeze and smiled at her.

Eve did not let go of his hand.

Much felt like he could sing.

"We're just going inside then?" asked Allan.

Robin nodded. "Yeah, yeah we are."

They all approached the entrance to the Abby. There were two doors at the front and on the door was a wooden cross. When each man (and woman), except for Djaq stared at the cross they realized that they were about to enter holy territory. Sacred territory.

"Kind of like going to church," Allan whispered to Will.

"Yeah…suppose so…how long has it been since you've been to church?" Will asked Allan.

Allan shrugged. "Since my father died. Didn't see the need I guess. Didn't understand what it was all about after that."

Robin looked at Allan for a moment. There was still so much about his gang that he did not know. He did not know that Allan's father was dead. He felt that he owed Allan something…not just because his father had died…but also because of the cruel way they had treated Allan while he was Guy's man. Robin turned back and knocked on the door.

After this is over, I will figure out how to honor Allan properly.

In a short while a monk approached them. He was dressed in dark brown and had a hood over his head. Around his neck he wore a cross. And as he spoke the cross swung rhythmically from side to side like a metronome.

"Bonjour, comment allez vou?" he kindly asked Robin.

Robin knew that if he asked Will, or Eve, they both could have asked this man if he knew Stephan. Robin did not even need to be involved with the process. But this was something that he needed to do alone. So he took a deep breath and wracked his brain trying to remember his best French.

"Je suis bon vous remercie," answered Robin.

"What's he saying?" Allan asked anxiously to Will.

Will rolled his eyes. "I am well thank you."

The monk smiled at Robin. "Vous n'êtes pas français?"

Robin shook his head. "No."

Allan turned to Will and Will rolled his eyes. "The monk just asked Robin if he was French."

Then the monk said, "Ce qui peut je faire pour vous?"

Robin did not remember exactly what that meant. So he then asked, "Vous parlez anglais?" The monk nodded and said, "Yes a little. What can I do for you? You seem to have…uh…come a long way yes?"

Robin nodded. "Yes."

The monk could clearly see the burdens of a long and tiresome journey in Robin's eyes so he extended his arm to Robin and his men. "Come inside. Rest."

The gang thanked him most graciously and entered the Abby. Though the Abby felt cold and foreboding at first, soon, after the monk made a fire in the hearth, the gang felt more comfortable. Djaq, of course, felt the least comfortable out of all of them. She was not used to all these crosses and pictures of Jesus' crucifixion. Though the monk was very kind to them, she felt awkward in his presence. She sat a little closer to Will and Will's warmth made her more at ease.

Once the gang had properly rested Robin decided to ask his question. "Do you think you could help us find someone?"

"Who?" asked the monk curiously.

Robin took another deep breath. "His name is Stephan, and I believe he is part of your order training to be a priest. Do you know where we might find him?"

The monk scratched his head and said, "Wait a minute."

Then he left the room and the gang could hear his feet scuffling on the stone floor. Everyone's eyes were focused solely on Robin. They knew that very shortly he was about to meet a brother he had not seen in at least a decade. Not only was he going to shake hands with a man he had previously hated but he also had to ask this man for a very big favor. A favor that only a family member would be willing to do. But the question was, would Stephan still think of Robin as such a dear brother after all this time?

In some time later the monk returned.

Alone.

"I think that Stephan has gone out for the moment. He should be back later in the day." Then he turned towards the direction from where he had come. From a distance Robin and the gang could hear music. Very faintly at first but sure enough it was music.

"What is that?" asked John.

"Part of our prayer service. Brother Luke is leading the service, would you like to come to the cathedral? Pray with us?"

There were a couple of nods. Will, Eve, and Much were willing to go. Djaq shrugged her shoulders. John thought it would be alright but Allan had second thoughts. "Hang on a minute friend, I'm not being funny or anything but isn't all the prayer in Latin? I don't know latin…and I doubt that the rest of us know that much. Is it still alright to pray and all?"

The monk chuckled. "Of course. God does not require only latin prayer. Did not Luke say that, 'But He Himself would often slip away to the wilderness and pray'?"

Robin smiled at the monk's resuscitation of the Bible. It reminded him of how his brother would quote. "So shall we go?"

Everyone seemed happy with this plan so they followed the monk to the cathedral. There were many beautiful stain glass windows with a multitude of color and light shining through them. The windows brought a smile to Djaq's face. She admired the craft and also found the windows absolutely breathtaking.

In the cathedral, besides the stain glass windows, there were wooden benches were many monks and priests sat in prayer. Some were silent and had their heads bent over in contemplation. Others whispered their prayers and looked upwards and the ceiling, and yet far above the ceiling as well. Still others were singing in a harmonious chorus of Latin.

Allan, John, Much, and Eve sat on one bench. Djaq, Will, and Robin sat on the bench across from them. Much and Eve both bent their heads down in silent prayer. Will looked down at his lap and closed his eyes. He began to whisper prayers he used to say at church as a boy. Djaq bent her head down too. But she prayed in the only way she felt most holy in. She prayed in Arabic.

John looked forward with his eyes on the priest leading the chorus of singers. He had spent four years of his life living in the woods. He knew how to cure poisons and he knew how to live with all that nature had to offer. John had a fathered a child, and fought for the spirit of England.

But John had never formally attended church. This was the first time he was stepping in a cathedral to pray. He was not sure how to go about doing so. Like Allan, he did not know Latin. And he felt that he had very little to pray for, except the safety of his wife and child. This beautiful music seemed to fill John's soul. He was almost moved to tears.

Almost.

He closed his eyes as well. He thought.

Lord, please protect and look after Alice and John. They are my world and everything I have that is precious to me. Please watch over them. Thank you.

While John sat in his own meditative prayer Allan hugged himself and wished that this chilly feeling he was having would go away. The music of these brothers in prayer began to unlock his own secrets he wished he could forget. The secrets of his childhood.

When Allan was a little child, his father would take him to church every Sunday. His father was a very religious man, especially after his wife died leaving him alone to raise Allan. Allan's brother had ran away from home at an early age. He was older and Allan and did not want his father to have to support three mouths, let alone two.

Every Sunday they would put on their best clothes and walk to their little church in their village. Allan would sit dutifully by his father's side and together they would pray. Together they prayed for the soul of Allan's mother to find comfort in heaven. Together they prayed for Allan's father to regain his ailing strength. Together they prayed for Allan to become a healthy young man.

It had been no secret that Allan's father needed money. He was poor and had fallen on hard times since no one would by his tools anymore. So, one day, Allan's father had gone into the church he loved so well and asked for a little charity.

The priest had no idea how much courage it had taken for Allan's father to ask for a little help. But the priest would have none of it. He denied the request and suggested prayer as an answer. When Allan's father told him what had happened Allan looked up at his father.

What are we going to do?

Allan's father did not know. But he listened to the advice of the priest and he prayed. But while he prayed Allan took matters into his own hands. In the dead of night he snuck into the church and stole a few coins from the collection box.

When he returned home he was planning how to lie to his father. But he realized sadly as he went home he would not need any lies. His father was in bed and his health was failing fast. Within the next day Allan's father died. And Allan used the coins he had stolen to pay for the small funeral. When Allan's father was buried in the ground and had become one with the earth Allan turned his back on the church and left home.

Now he found himself sitting in one again. He felt just like a child and utterly alone. He did not want to show his fear to the others. He, like his father had been before him, was a proud man. But these holy voices soothed Allan's nerves. But unlike John, he found himself in tears.

He found himself weeping.

Though he felt stupid weeping and blubbering like a baby, the release of emotions made him calm. He found peace in the tears he had left unshed for so long.

I miss you father.

While his men prayed Robin looked on. He found that in the back of the cathedral was a place for confession. And Robin knew that he needed confession more than he needed prayer. So he quietly stood up and walked to the back of the cathedral. He went inside and closed the door behind him.

Through the little opening he could make out the figure of another man in the next door. He did not care if the priest understood him or not. "Bless me father for I have sinned. It has been…a while since my last confession."

The priest coughed and was a little startled that the man on the other side was speaking English. But priests have been trained to understand all languages just in case they need to hear confession from many different people.

"What is your sin my child?" the priest asked kindly.

Robin was a little surprised that the priest understood English well. He continued, "I have not been a good man."

"Why not?"

"Because I often choose anger and aggression when I know it is better to think and wait. I yell at my friends and I wish I could control myself better. There is someone in this country…who has done me a great wrong. And when I confront him, I confess, I do not know how I shall react."

"What has he done my son?" the priest asked.

Robin sighed and shook his head. "He has…well…to put it this way…he has taken away the only important thing to me…in this world. And without…this important thing…I do not know how to live or breathe each day."

"She must truly be very important to you," said the priest with understanding. "What do you want to do when you meet this man?"

Robin closed his eyes. "I get the feeling that I want to kill him. And I know this is wrong, but, he has done such a great injustice, more than one. I know I must be rational…but when I think of the two of them together…I just want to kill him."

"Everyone is equal in the eyes of heaven," said the priest quietly.

Robin sniffed. And then he chuckled.

"Are you alright?" the priest asked because he did not hear a reply from Robin.

Robin shrugged. "I am a little out of sorts. What you just said…about everyone being equal…that is what my brother used to say."

"Used to say?" the priest repeated. "He does not say that now?"

"I do not know whether he does or does not say such things. I have not seen him in over a decade."

The priest nodded. "I see. Do you want to talk about that?"

Robin really did not want to talk about that to a complete stranger. But while he was here, sitting in confession, he might as well just keep talking.

"My brother and I had a fight when the two of us were both quite young. I never forgave him for his opinions and…I do not know if he ever forgave me because of mine. He left England when I was still young, and I have not seen him since. And I am sure that does not make me a good man either. So not only do I envision killing another man, but I also distance myself from my own family."

"May I ask," said the priest, "what was the fight about?"

"He said he would not go to fight against the Turk in the holy land. I thought that he should have fought. I said it was his duty as an Englishman. But he did not want to kill innocence for king and country. And I used to hate him for it…but then I went to war, and I saw the horror of war. I saw the dead who died for no reason at all. Sorry Father, forgive my rambling."

The priest chuckled. "Rambling is not a sin my child."

"Distancing yourself from your family is, surely," said Robin unhappily. "And that I have done."

"What have you done since your return from war?"

"Helped those who were in need," said Robin. "Given to those who could not feed themselves. But though I have done good, I cannot forget the wrongs I have done in the name of the king."

"Perhaps now you understand your brother's choices?" asked the priest curiously.

"Yes, I do. And I wish he could understand that."

The priest shifted and sighed deeply. "He does Robin of Locksley. He does."

Robin's eyes widened and he peered closely through the little opening. Stephan of Locksley peered back at his little brother.

**********************************************************************

Guy peered curiously at the soil in his hands. He had been on his hands and knees for most of the morning working and tilling at the earth. Finally he was seeing results. He found the soil to be perfect for planting crops. All the weeds had been uprooted thanks to Marian's help.

Oh Marian.

She was now quite obviously pregnant but still just as active as ever. Almost every day she had been going to Gabriella for advice, medicine, or help.

So she had said.

But Guy had already heard one of their intimate conversations and, though he did not spy on them again, he wondered if their other talks included him. And while he thought and worked the land to the best of his ability he wondered if he had at last won Marian's love.

Long ago he had declared to her that she must have been the least easily won woman in England. But that was before the marriage. That was before the baby. Did she still feel the same way about him? Did she in fact love him? Gabriella did not know everything. She could not, Guy was sure, read Marian's mind. She was just trying to make Guy anxious and unsure of himself.

She had to be.

There was a nagging feeling in his stomach. It was the same nagging feeling he had whenever the sheriff was telling him that all women were lepers. The nagging feeling was the possibility that the speaker had been right and the Guy's views were wrong.

Guy loved Marian.

It was as simple as that. And Guy knew that he would never be able to change how he felt. Guy knew he would never leave Marian's side for anything. This was finally how everything was supposed to be. This was how he had always dreamed it.

Maybe without the farming though.

But even the farming made Guy contented. Because he was using his hands to build and create new live instead of destroy it.

"Guy!"

He heard his name and looked up at the speaker. He saw Marian walking to the manor smiling. She held new medicine in her hands and a smile on her face. She waved at him and smiled to see his muddy hand waving back at her.

Marian, for her part, saw this new Guy, and liked him. Loved him? She mentally shrugged. She could never truly love another the way she had loved Robin. But who knows where Robin was now? Would Prince John's men have killed him along with the rest of England? She did not know. She did not want to think about it. She was carrying new life inside her belly. That thought took up most of her day. Now it was blatantly obvious to everyone. Now was the time for the discussion that every husband and wife must have eventually.

When he saw her coming closer he stood up and smiled at her. Then he hugged and kissed her on the lips.

"I missed you," he said.

"As this keeps growing," said Marian looking at her stomach, "I have to walk slower and slower, sorry I'm a bit late."

Guy shook his head and rubbed his forehead. He forgot the dirt on his hand and inadvertently got dirt on his face. Marian laughed and Guy looked at his hand and then realized what had happened. He began wiping it away when Marian stopped him.

"No, you'll just spread it. Anyway, I think soil suits you very nicely."

A compliment. Now what could that mean?

"Guy," said Marian, "we need to talk."

"About what?" asked Guy.

"We need to think of a name for this little one," she said.

Now Guy had already had a little one before Marian. He had gotten a servant girl named Annie pregnant. She had liked him and while she was pregnant she tried to include him in these decisions and preparations. But Guy was different then. He would have none of it. He was too preoccupied with power and position to give a farthing about the child. Now God was giving him a chance to start again. God was giving him a gift, a gift of redemption. And Guy would put his full power into being there for Marian and his baby in every way that he had neglected and ignored Annie.

"What have you thought of?" asked Guy kindly.

"Maybe Edward for a boy," said Marian. "After my father."

Guy did not want to intervene but he felt compelled to do so. He had known an Edward. Edward was the son of Roger Mann. Guy did not have a great history with that family. It was something he would explain to Marian one day…but not today.

"Though I think that the name Edward is very regal and grand for a boy, do you not think that by naming the child Edward he will be born with a name full of burdens?"

Marian had not thought about it like that. "I suppose so, what do you suggest?"

"How about Samuel for a boy?" asked Guy. He always liked the name. There was something very strong in that name.

Like a fighter? Do you want him to be his father's son?

But yet in the bible Samuel had been a wise prophet who had advised King David.

People can change.

"Samuel is a beautiful name," said Marian looking fondly at her stomach. "Now what about if it's a girl?"

Guy crossed his arms and thought. There were not many great women in life who deserved such an honor. The only name he thought of as having any meaning or importance in his life was…undoubtedly…Marian.

You cannot name the child Marian. You cannot even suggest the name.

So Guy kept his mouth shut and shrugged.

Marian thought as well. She knew that the name of the girl should be in defiance to all the things that had been wrong with the world. The name should be strong, brave, good, and kind. Guy thought so as well. This name, this baby, would brighten away the darkness in his heart.

That was when Guy remembered the latin word for bright.

Clarus, Clara, Clarum----Bright.

"How about Clara, for a girl?" he asked her.

She was about to answer when she heard the child kicking. She smiled.

"Clara sounds perfect Guy."

I was quite pleased with my french skills and latin skills when i wrote this...my friend helped with the french parts though....and i wasnt sure if i was going to include something from the bible but i thought it was okay...and i know that allan's brother is not older than him or something like that...if you could pretend with me that allan was prattically an only child...maybe...and Clara is a medieval name they would name girls...i researched it...(yes thats how much i care sad but true) and to give an explinaton to the scene in the church which seems really sweet and somewhat out of character for the gang...i was listening to Snow Patrol's Grazed Knees and it was so sad and sweet thats how i wrote that scene...also tell me guy/mar fans what you think the baby should be...boy or girl?? rob/mar fans dont worry now that brother has met brother it cannot be long before he comes...he will come dont worry