The Bright Side Of Life
Title: The Bright Side of Life
Author: Jammeke
Rating: g
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters; I'm merely playing with them. Whether they like it or not.
Summary: "Our priority," Robin grinned at them mischievously, "is getting our hands on his yellow scarf." - The tale behind the disappearance of Guy's yellow mystery garment.
A/N: Yes. Well. I guess it's a strange mix of silliness and seriousness. To put it like Much would: "It's surely a piece of fan fiction. Of sorts."
The Bright Side of Life
"Wait, what?"
Robin didn't even turn around to face him. As usual, he was being ignored. All right, that was hardly fair. Robin did pay attention to him at times. Still, his back was a fairly familiar sight to Much, and he was determined to make his master acknowledge his existence, or at the very least his objections, this time around.
After all, being ignored and allowing oneself to be ignored were two different things entirely.
"Master, you can't be serious."
He was, of course. Much knew that. Well, as serious as Robin could get about breaking into Locksley Manor, his former home. Actually, his master's face was displaying a fascinating mix of life-or-death-seriousness and childish delight right now. There really was something wrong with the man.
Much shook his head, and looked at the others. Surely they didn't share Robin's opinion that visiting Gisborne's home would be a good idea? Surely they knew it couldn't possibly end well? Surely they would back him, Much, up on this matter?
Allan shrugged. "What d'ye have in mind?"
Much's jaw didn't drop. Well, it made a halfhearted attempt, but it didn't hit the forest floor. After all, it wasn't like Allan agreed with him on a daily basis. Still, he would've thought -
"We gettin' our hands on his silver?"
Right. Of course.
Robin shook his head. "No. The silver's not our priority. Our priority," he grinned at them mischievously, "is getting our hands on his yellow scarf."
Much stared at him. He had a vague sense of the others doing the same, but he was too busy being bemused to pay them much attention.
Allan was the first to regain his voice. "What?"
Much had to hand it to the man; he had an excellent way of getting his opinion across. Actually, his opinion was frighteningly close to that of Much at the moment.
"Gisborne owns a yellow scarf?" Will asked doubtfully.
Robin nodded. "He does."
"And we want to steal it . . . why exactly?" Allan wanted to know.
Much frowned at Robin, wondering about his motives. Surely his master's desire to rid Gisborne of his scarf had nothing to do with -
"Marian."
He should've known. The question remained: what did Marian have to do with Gisborne's yellow neck kerchief?
"'d She give it to him?" Allan guessed, evidently still thinking along the same lines as Much.
"No."
"'d He take it from her?"
"No."
Djaq made an exasperated sound. "Robin."
"All right, all right." Robin was still grinning, but Much could swear there was dismay in his eyes now, too. "I may have told her his garments are as black as his rotten soul, if he even has one."
Suddenly, Much realized what this was about. "And she mentioned the yellow scarf."
Robin's face darkened. "She claimed there is another side to him." He shook his head. "A brighter side to his character."
It was silent for a moment.
"And stealing the scarf will make her believe there is no light left inside him?" Djaq inquired disbelievingly.
Robin turned his head to look at her. "No, but it's good fun."
"You want us to risk our lives," Little John spoke up suddenly, reminding Much of his presence, "for fun?"
A look of guilt flickered across Robin's features, but it was gone before Much could call him on it. "Well, we can take the silver, too -"
"I'd think so, yeah."
"- and give it to the people of Clun."
"Hang on -"
Much took a step forward. "Master, are you sure - I mean, will Marian not figure out that you took the scarf from Gisborne?"
Robin looked in his direction. "Probably," he allowed.
"Will she not be . . . dismayed," Djaq asked, phrasing Marian's angry mode rather carefully in Much's opinion.
"Ah," Robin said, looking strangely triumphant now. His mood swings were giving Much a headache. "But I'm not the one who claimed there was another side to him. Therefore, I can not be held responsible for making it disappear."
"Er," Will said, voicing, or so Much believed, everyone's thoughts on his master's reasoning brilliantly.
"If you ask me," Robin said, looking thoughtful now, "it was taken from him a long time ago."
"The scarf?" Allan said incredulously. "But -"
"No, not the scarf," Robin said impatiently. "His other side. Y'know, his bright side."
"So we're talking about Gisborne's bright side now?" Allan wanted to know, looking even more perplexed.
Robin stared at him. "No!"
"Wait, what -" Much scrunched his eyebrows together, "what are we talking about?"
"I don't - I mean, Marian says the Sheriff's influence had something to do with it." Robin's face scrunched up. "I don't get why she's always defending him. He's made his own choices."
"Robin," Djaq said, only to be interrupted by the archer.
"I just don't understand. Why does she insist on saying he has qualities? How can she believe he isn't the monster he looks like - he acts like?"
No one answered Robin's questions. Much wasn't even sure he expected or wanted them to.
"And provided there is some good left in him," Robin said, his tone making it obvious he couldn't believe he was even considering this possibility, "what use is that to any of us if he doesn't act on it?"
Will cleared his throat. "She is going to marry him, Robin." He was silent for a moment. Then, more forcefully, he continued, "Can't you see what she's doing? What she has to do? She has to make the best of her situation, Robin. She is trying to look for . . . look at -"
"The bright side of things," Allan offered helpfully.
To which Djaq added, "Gisborne's bright side."
Silence descended upon them.
Much nervously stared at his master. His master didn't appreciate his gang siding with . . . well, anyone but him, basically. He wondered how Robin would react to their suggestions.
The archer surprised them all by saying, quietly, as if he couldn't believe he was saying this himself, "Right. Of course. You're . . . you're right."
Much wanted to walk over to him, put his arm around him, do something to comfort him - which was why he remained frozen in place. Comfort could not be drawn from physical contact right now. It could only be drawn from . . . Marian, perhaps. Marian or . . .
"So, are you with me?" Robin asked.
. . . causing Gisborne trouble. It was all Much could do not to groan out loud. "Master."
"Robin."
"Robin."
"Robin."
"Yeah, all right."
They all turned to look at Allan.
"What?" Little John bellowed. "Allan -"
"Look," Allan said, shrugging. "So Marian believes Gisborne has a bright side. D'ye really believe she'll start listening to Robin's nagging because he stole his scarf?" Robin opened his mouth to respond to that, but Allan cut him off. "If Marian thinks there's another side to Gisborne, she's gonna have to find it herself, right? A kerchief -"
"Scarf."
"- has nothing to do with good or evil. It's a piece of cloth. An ugly one, really. Ye want to know what I think? I think we'll be doing Gisborne a favor by getting rid of it for him."
"Allan," Djaq said, sounding slightly confused. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying," Allan said, looking at Robin now, "This isn't about the scarf. It's about Robin. If he thinks stealing the thing will make him feel better, then why not help him steal it?"
"It's dangerous," Much couldn't help but point out.
Allan sighed. "Yeah. Unlike all the other stuff we do. Look, whatever this is about, it's affecting Robin. And us. So . . . I say we steal the bloody scarf -"
"Allan -"
"- and the silver -"
"Allan!"
"- and get back to feeding peasants."
Will made an unintelligible sound. Djaq stared at Allan with something closely resembling a smile on her lips. Little John was glowering at him. Much just . . . tried not to gape at the master thief.
Robin stared at Allan for a moment, frowning slightly. Then, understanding dawned on his face. "One tenth," he said.
Huh? Much gawked at his master. What was he talking about now?
"Half," Allan said indignantly.
Robin stared at Allan through narrowed eyes. "One fourth."
"Three fourth."
"You can't do that," Robin told him, rolling his eyes. "You already said half, you can't just - never mind, one fourth, that's as far as I'm willing to go."
Something was starting to dawn on Much. "You're not suggesting . . ."
Allan grinned. "We are."
"Master!"
Robin met Much's gaze evenly. "Allan and I are going on a little trip. You're welcome to join us." He was looking at the others now.
He didn't need their consent. Much knew that. Whatever he wanted to do, Robin did. It was annoying. It was infuriating. And Much wanted to smack him in the head. So he raised his hand - and said, "I'm coming with you."
Robin was smiling at him now. Not condescendingly, just . . . smiling. Warmly. Gratefully. And for a moment, Much though this might even be worth it.
Then, the others reluctantly agreed to Robin's silly request, and Much knew it was worth it. Because whether they'd be in the dungeons by the end of the day, or celebrating having taken Gisborne's bright side away from him - they were going to cause trouble together.
Much liked that. Doing things together.
Still, he couldn't help but wonder whether stripping Gisborne of his good side wasn't going to come back to bite them in the behind someday.
- fin -