Hello everyone and welcome to a small one-shot written because a muse wouldn't leave me alone until it was posted.
Disclaimer: I asked my cat Peanuts, who owned this. She doesn't know but is looking it up for me. So until then, rest assured that I don't own Robin Hood.
Robin claims he has none. Because he makes sure he doesn't. He never stops to think of the consequences of his actions. When he got a feeling, he went with it. He never hesitates. Not once, be it to climb the tall oak in the garden when he was eight, scale the castle wall when he was ten or to head out to war. In pursue of justice. Or glory depending on which way you looked at it. Much knows this because Robin doesn't regret telling him all this, every time Much questions his decision.
He tells Much he doesn't regret telling Marion about his leaving. About breaking the engagement.
Better she heard it from him than from a poxy letter when he was miles away, unable to comfort her. No, he wasn't a coward. He would face this challenge head on.
And it nearly killed him. It broke two hearts to say goodbye. They were in the forest, the sun splitting the trees. Contradicting the storm brewing between the two young lovers.
There were no barriers in the forest. He no longer needed to have the answers and she no longer needed to be so strong. Neither of them did. They just needed to be them. Marion and Robin. No titles, no formalities, nothing. However he choose to leave in search of something more.
Was she not enough, she cried. Her pain ringing in her raising voice and tear-filled eyes.
He begged her to stop.
She pleaded with him to stay.
He embraced her.
She caught up with them as they were leaving the forest. Both boys turned at her calling.
Much waited while Robin hopped off his horse, meeting Marion halfway. She leaped of her horse and into his arms, her last-ditch attempt at making him stay. More begging, more pleading, more tears…
Eventually she realises she can't stop him when he has made up his mind and with forced pleasant words (neither wanted to part on bad terms) they kissed for the second time before they return to their horses. And each set off, always in different directions, all three unsure as to wither their paths will cross again.
"Any regrets master?" Much asks.
"Nope." came the short, blunt answer from his master, who refused to meet his eye, staring at the horizon.
"I never have any."
For years the boys parading as men where away from home. Horrors of the war quickly sobered up their drunken dreams of adventure and glory. War aged them in a way time could never do and after one particularly cruel, hard day in which they lost many friends and gained many new wounds, Much's temper broke.
"Any regrets now? Now that we have seen that the only thing that can come from the pursuit of glory is blood, pain and death!"
Robin continued to clean his sword. Never bothering to look up from his task he replied in a calm even tone,
"No. I never have any."
For many months, Much put that question to him and he still received the same answer. Rather than let it drive him mad, Much looked forward to this response. As long as it remained the same, hope still remained because Robin still had faith.
One night not only changed that answer but also Much's view on Robin for with just a few words Robin revealed that he wasn't impenetrable, invincible, immortal, nor did he think he was.
It was the night when King Richard was attacked. The night Robin was wounded.
Much remembers that night. It haunted his dreams, still does…
He recalls placing a wet cloth on the head of his master, hoping to bring his temperature down and to bring him out of his feverish state. He was wiping the blood of his clothes, when Robin murmured in his sleep.
"Well Master, any regrets now?" he said jokingly, hoping to keep the mood light despite its seriousness. What was heard next broke his strong resolve and his heart as the answer he expected Robin to say, even in his weakened condition, was altered.
"I should have kissed her a third time…"
That one regret brought a million more into Much's head and he lay his head down on his arms as Robin slept on, he sobbed.
That night two little lost boys forced to become men before their time thought over their regrets, one head full of thoughts about home, about a house where he could spend his idle years in peace, where the likes of the sights he has seen would here never darken his doorstep. The other thought of his true home, the arms of his true love, her hands open in invitation, waiting to guide him, to hold him, to love him. He moaned in his sleep
Definitely should have kissed her a third time…
Well there you have it. Short, I know but it had to be written.
P.S. If anyone knows who owns Robin Hood, could you please tell Peanuts as she is having trouble surfing the net. The mouse keeps distracting her.