A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 1 (Robin Hood)
Title: A Life Less Ordinary
Fandom: Robin Hood
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Outlaws, Marian, Carter, Guy, Sheriff.
Setting: Post-season 2
Spoilers: 2.13
Summary: They saved the King, but had they saved England? An alternate season 3 fic.
Disclaimer: The title comes from the Danny Boyle film, the rest belongs to the BBC.
Chapter One: Phoenix
Acre
It was hot. And bright.
Marian blinked several times as the world slowly came into focus. The ceiling above her was patterned - swirls of blue and green against a white background - utterly unfamiliar to her. She tried to sit up but a sharp pain went through her side and she fell back against her sleeping mat. It was surprising comfortable, she realised, soft pillows and sheets, unlike the coarse material she had slept on while being held prisoner by the Sheriff.
The Sheriff - Guy - the King - Robin. Her mind was filled with memories and thoughts that she couldn’t quite deal with yet. First, she had to find out what had happened - or more pressingly, where she was.
Marian gingerly turned her neck, to try and get a better view of the room she was in. It was undoubtedly Saracen, that much she could decipher from the decor. Well, that and the Saracen woman kneeling beside a table, crushing herbs and speaking lowly in Arabic. It was difficult to gauge the woman’s age, although Marian could see grey hair peeking out from under the scarf she wore over her head, and the lines around her mouth as she muttered the strange words to herself. Then, as if becoming aware of being watched, she turned towards Marian.
“So, the lady awakens.” The woman smiled at her shocked expression. “Are you surprised I can speak your tongue? It was not difficult to learn, after years of dealing with your people.”
“My people?” Marian was a little confused.
“Your pale skin - like your Crusaders. You come from across the seas.”
“England,” Marian confirmed, unsure of what else to say.
The woman shrugged. “It really makes no difference to me.” She crossed the room and knelt by Marian’s bedside. “Drink this.” She held a small bowl to Marian’s lips with a foul-smelling concoction in it. Marian drank obediently, for her mouth was parched. It did not taste as bad as it smelled, and it made her feel calmer.
“Thank you.” Marian lay back down again, exhausted. “How long...”
“Many weeks,” the woman replied sombrely.
Marian closed her eyes. Robin and his gang would have already left for England, she was sure of it. He would not have wanted to linger, thinking her dead. But she pushed that thought from her mind - she would deal with it later, when she could actually do something about it. It was clear she would not be getting up from her bed for a while yet. Marian pressed her hand against her belly, wincing as another stab of pain went through her.
“How did I survive?”
“It was not easy for me to keep you alive,” the woman explained. “There was many a time you were close to death, and even with all my knowledge I believed you lost.” She smiled fondly down at Marian. “But you have something within you - a strength to keep fighting.”
She remembered fighting against the darkness, against the death. “But, how - ”
“Hush, now.” The woman pushed Marian’s hair back from her forehead. “You need to rest, you are not out of danger yet.”
There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but there was one thing she needed to know. “Who are you? Why are you helping me?”
The woman smiled mysteriously. “My name is Amineh. I am known as something of a healer to people around here. You were brought to me because of this.”
“But why? People from my country are trying to invade you.”
“When someone is injured they can do no harm.” Amineh looked at her keenly. “And I saw the way you were fighting for life. It impressed me...” She looked at her expectantly.
“Marian,” she replied.
“Well, Marian. Allah sent you back for a reason - he must have work for you to do.”
Marian opened her mouth to remind her that she didn’t believe in the Saracen God, but closed it again almost immediately. It would be rude, after all, to insult the woman’s beliefs after she had cared for her so well. And she remembered what Robin had said once, just after Djaq had joined their gang and Marian had questioned him accepting someone from a people he used to fight against. Robin had smiled - not his usual cocky grin - but soft, and thoughtful. He’d said that he wasn’t sure they weren’t the same God after all - that perhaps they just chose to worship Him in different ways. This had been the same Robin who’d been so intent on the cause of the Holy War before he left - for whom biblical study were the only lessons he’d paid attention to as a child.
“Yes,” Amineh nodded, almost as if she could tell what Marian was thinking. “Rest, now. There will be times for thoughts and explanations later.” She stood and slowly walked out of the room, leaving Marian alone.
She wanted to think things over, to try and properly understand her situation, but was beginning to feel drowsy again, and could not hold onto her thoughts. She closed her eyes, and willingly drifted back to sleep, promising herself that when she woke up she would find out what had happened to her, and why.
***********
Sherwood Forest
When their gang of four arrived back at camp in Sherwood forest, there was little else they felt like doing but sleep, although none of them but John managed to do that very well. Robin wandered off into the forest after a few minutes, and Much was torn between following him, or leaving him to his thoughts. He noticed Allan was also wide awake, although he seemed preoccupied with the camp itself.
“It’s strange being back here,” Allan said finally. “All I can think...” he continued, seemingly troubled. “All I can think is that before us, Marian was the last person in this camp. She went off to find you all - said the place was empty, and we never came back here after the barn. So...she was the last.”
Much nodded, feeling his own heart constrict. Marian.
He needed to find Robin - tell him what he had been avoiding saying for the long journey back to England. But it had to be said, or else the guilt would destroy him. Much stood, and walked in the direction Robin had gone, ignoring Allan calling after him.
Robin was found not too far from the camp, seated against a tree, his head resting back against the trunk, face void of any emotion. Much took a seat beside him.
“At first light we should visit all the villages - make sure they’re alright.” Robin spoke up, swallowing heavily. “I feel like we have abandoned them.”
“We were saving the King,” Much pointed out, trying to give a reassurance that he did not necessarily feel. But it was important, he knew, for Robin to feel that it had been worthwhile.
“I’ve had a long time to think about it, Much,” he said sadly. “I told Richard that he’d forgotten his people. I was angry at him for it, when I should have been angry at myself for doing the same thing. And all of you had been trying to tell me that, and I wouldn’t listen. And now that we’re back I won’t make the same mistake.” He fixed Much with a resolute gaze. “We look after our people, that is our first priority.”
“I...I think that is a good plan, Master,” Much agreed, relieved, for there finally was a spark of life in Robin again. A sense of purpose. But he still needed to speak. “Master...I need to tell you something.”
Robin looked guilty. “I know I haven’t been myself since...but I’m trying - ”
“No,” Much cut him off, “it’s not about that, it’s...” He sighed heavily. “This is hard.” He looked upward, perhaps for divine inspiration for the right words, before he remembered that his faith had long been shattered, and he no longer trusted in God for guidance. “I have a confession to make.”
Robin looked at him curiously. “Go on,” he urged him.
“Your birthday party - in the barn, you remember?”
“Of course.”
“Well...” Much struggled to find the right words, before deciding that whichever ones he used would cause the same result. “There’s a reason why Marian couldn’t find us. I didn’t tell her. I should have, really. I’d even seen her earlier that week, and she’d asked me if we were going to celebrate your birthday, that it would be nice to see us all again. But I lied, and said no, we were far too busy.” The words fell out of his mouth in a mad rush.
“Much, I’m not sure where you’re going with this.” Robin already looked pained at the mention of Marian’s name, and clearly did not want him to continue. But Much had to unload the burden, even if it lost him Robin’s friendship.
“I told myself that it was too dangerous for her, you know, to get her out of the castle without being detected...but the truth is...” Much took a deep breath, and steeled himself. “The truth is, I didn’t want her there,” he pressed on. “Because when she’d been in the forest, it had been all about the two of you...because you listened to her opinion without question, and your thoughts were all for her. I suppose...I just wanted it to be us again. The gang.” Much’s voice cracked slightly, and hot tears formed behind his eyes, for his wounded pride, his shame, and his guilt. “And all I can think is if I hadn’t been so selfish and invited her along, then she never would have tried to kill the Sherriff and gotten captured. She would have escaped with us and...she could be alive now.”
Much turned to Robin, waiting for the justice to be served to him. He felt it fitting, really, his jealousy had made him want to keep Robin to himself, and in doing so he had probably lost his friendship for good. But Robin did not appear angry, in fact, he sat very still and silently. “Master?” he asked, looking for a reaction.
“Don’t,” Robin cut him off harshly, and when he looked up, there was a torrent of emotions swirling in his blue eyes. “Don’t call me Master.” Robin shook his head. “I don’t ever want to hear you call me that again.” Robin bowed his head again, and all his anger seemed to dissipate. “I don’t deserve it.” For a long time there was silence, as Much did not know how to take Robin’s reaction. So instead he watched him clench and unclench his jaw, waiting. Eventually, Robin began to speak.
“There are a million ways we could have saved her,” he said softly. “Don’t you think I’ve gone through every scenario in my head? All these possibilities - but that’s not what happened, and we can’t change it now. She’s gone.” Robin’s voice broke on those words, but he took a deep breath. “And I don’t ever want you feeling guilty for what are my mistakes, Much, and don’t try to argue with me,” he cut him off before Much could protest. “I drove you away, I didn’t treat you like you are worthy - as you should be treated. As a friend, a brother...as more than I deserve. So please don’t call me Master ever again.”
“Robin...” Much’s heart ached, happy to finally hear praise from Robin’s lips, and yet agonising to see him so torn apart inside by it. He seemed on the very verge of collapse.
“And it took her death to make me see everything clearly. Too clearly.” Robin brushed the back of his hand harshly against his eyes, where Much could see tears were beginning to escape. There was nothing else to do. Much pulled his friend into an embrace as the dam broke, and Robin sobbed into his shoulder as Much rocked him gently. It was the first time Robin had cried since the Holy Land, the first time he’d let anyone try and comfort him. And Much held him tighter, knowing that this was the worst Robin would get, and while it would cause him the most pain now, it meant the healing process had started.
It finally felt like they were moving on.
********************
Nottingham
In the shadows of his war room, Vaysey waited. He glared at his map of the known world, which had borne the brunt of his rage when he’d first returned to Nottingham castle. The small figures and flags that had been positioned in the Holy Land lay askew on the floor, and the entire region pounded to dust. All that remained was England, and his Black Knights situated across the country.
The mercenaries had long gone with the money he’d taxed the country to pay for. His vaults were empty. The Knights were already sending messengers asking why he had failed, worried that they would all be caught, wishing to back out of the entire plan. He’d killed every messenger and sent their bodies back to their lords, as a warning. They could not back out.
For Vaysey would not give up. He could bide his time, even when the odds had turned against him. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to start again from nothing.
The people, of course, had heard that Robin Hood had returned to them, and were once again filled with hope. Which was fine, in Vaysey’s opinion. To give the maggots hope and then crush it out of them made it all so much more entertaining. He didn’t expect that Hood would pose him a great a threat as he did before - he may have won the battle in Acre, but as Vaysey told him, he would have England. That was his goal, and ultimately, why he would win. He was not bound by earthly, base desires as Hood was - he would never be compromised by a servant, or follower, or woman.
That point still irritated him. He’d always known Marian to be a manipulative little madam - but he’d never twigged to her true allegiances. He’d underestimated her - he who had always prided himself of being able to read people, guess their true intentions, coerce them into revealing their weaknesses. He’d never seen that hers had been Hood, until the end. It bothered him that she’d been able to pull the wool over his eyes, and so successfully, for so long. But she was dead, repaid in spades her manipulation of Gisborne. He was actually quite proud of his protégé - Vaysey wouldn’t have thought he’d had it in him. Perhaps now, he could mould him into something more like himself - above such twaddle as love or compassion. He could build a new Gisbourne, now that Marian had crushed his heart. He almost thought of her fondly, for giving him that gift - to think of how much she would have hated that. It made him somewhat happier.
For Vaysey had a new plan. Already work was underway beneath Nottingham castle - workers were moving dirt and bringing in stone - digging in the earth, shaping the first step in his victory. In the dark underneath the castle his dream would be reborn.
And everything would be his.
Fandom: Robin Hood
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Outlaws, Marian, Carter, Guy, Sheriff.
Setting: Post-season 2
Spoilers: 2.13
Summary: They saved the King, but had they saved England? An alternate season 3 fic.
Disclaimer: The title comes from the Danny Boyle film, the rest belongs to the BBC.
Chapter One: Phoenix
Acre
It was hot. And bright.
Marian blinked several times as the world slowly came into focus. The ceiling above her was patterned - swirls of blue and green against a white background - utterly unfamiliar to her. She tried to sit up but a sharp pain went through her side and she fell back against her sleeping mat. It was surprising comfortable, she realised, soft pillows and sheets, unlike the coarse material she had slept on while being held prisoner by the Sheriff.
The Sheriff - Guy - the King - Robin. Her mind was filled with memories and thoughts that she couldn’t quite deal with yet. First, she had to find out what had happened - or more pressingly, where she was.
Marian gingerly turned her neck, to try and get a better view of the room she was in. It was undoubtedly Saracen, that much she could decipher from the decor. Well, that and the Saracen woman kneeling beside a table, crushing herbs and speaking lowly in Arabic. It was difficult to gauge the woman’s age, although Marian could see grey hair peeking out from under the scarf she wore over her head, and the lines around her mouth as she muttered the strange words to herself. Then, as if becoming aware of being watched, she turned towards Marian.
“So, the lady awakens.” The woman smiled at her shocked expression. “Are you surprised I can speak your tongue? It was not difficult to learn, after years of dealing with your people.”
“My people?” Marian was a little confused.
“Your pale skin - like your Crusaders. You come from across the seas.”
“England,” Marian confirmed, unsure of what else to say.
The woman shrugged. “It really makes no difference to me.” She crossed the room and knelt by Marian’s bedside. “Drink this.” She held a small bowl to Marian’s lips with a foul-smelling concoction in it. Marian drank obediently, for her mouth was parched. It did not taste as bad as it smelled, and it made her feel calmer.
“Thank you.” Marian lay back down again, exhausted. “How long...”
“Many weeks,” the woman replied sombrely.
Marian closed her eyes. Robin and his gang would have already left for England, she was sure of it. He would not have wanted to linger, thinking her dead. But she pushed that thought from her mind - she would deal with it later, when she could actually do something about it. It was clear she would not be getting up from her bed for a while yet. Marian pressed her hand against her belly, wincing as another stab of pain went through her.
“How did I survive?”
“It was not easy for me to keep you alive,” the woman explained. “There was many a time you were close to death, and even with all my knowledge I believed you lost.” She smiled fondly down at Marian. “But you have something within you - a strength to keep fighting.”
She remembered fighting against the darkness, against the death. “But, how - ”
“Hush, now.” The woman pushed Marian’s hair back from her forehead. “You need to rest, you are not out of danger yet.”
There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but there was one thing she needed to know. “Who are you? Why are you helping me?”
The woman smiled mysteriously. “My name is Amineh. I am known as something of a healer to people around here. You were brought to me because of this.”
“But why? People from my country are trying to invade you.”
“When someone is injured they can do no harm.” Amineh looked at her keenly. “And I saw the way you were fighting for life. It impressed me...” She looked at her expectantly.
“Marian,” she replied.
“Well, Marian. Allah sent you back for a reason - he must have work for you to do.”
Marian opened her mouth to remind her that she didn’t believe in the Saracen God, but closed it again almost immediately. It would be rude, after all, to insult the woman’s beliefs after she had cared for her so well. And she remembered what Robin had said once, just after Djaq had joined their gang and Marian had questioned him accepting someone from a people he used to fight against. Robin had smiled - not his usual cocky grin - but soft, and thoughtful. He’d said that he wasn’t sure they weren’t the same God after all - that perhaps they just chose to worship Him in different ways. This had been the same Robin who’d been so intent on the cause of the Holy War before he left - for whom biblical study were the only lessons he’d paid attention to as a child.
“Yes,” Amineh nodded, almost as if she could tell what Marian was thinking. “Rest, now. There will be times for thoughts and explanations later.” She stood and slowly walked out of the room, leaving Marian alone.
She wanted to think things over, to try and properly understand her situation, but was beginning to feel drowsy again, and could not hold onto her thoughts. She closed her eyes, and willingly drifted back to sleep, promising herself that when she woke up she would find out what had happened to her, and why.
***********
Sherwood Forest
When their gang of four arrived back at camp in Sherwood forest, there was little else they felt like doing but sleep, although none of them but John managed to do that very well. Robin wandered off into the forest after a few minutes, and Much was torn between following him, or leaving him to his thoughts. He noticed Allan was also wide awake, although he seemed preoccupied with the camp itself.
“It’s strange being back here,” Allan said finally. “All I can think...” he continued, seemingly troubled. “All I can think is that before us, Marian was the last person in this camp. She went off to find you all - said the place was empty, and we never came back here after the barn. So...she was the last.”
Much nodded, feeling his own heart constrict. Marian.
He needed to find Robin - tell him what he had been avoiding saying for the long journey back to England. But it had to be said, or else the guilt would destroy him. Much stood, and walked in the direction Robin had gone, ignoring Allan calling after him.
Robin was found not too far from the camp, seated against a tree, his head resting back against the trunk, face void of any emotion. Much took a seat beside him.
“At first light we should visit all the villages - make sure they’re alright.” Robin spoke up, swallowing heavily. “I feel like we have abandoned them.”
“We were saving the King,” Much pointed out, trying to give a reassurance that he did not necessarily feel. But it was important, he knew, for Robin to feel that it had been worthwhile.
“I’ve had a long time to think about it, Much,” he said sadly. “I told Richard that he’d forgotten his people. I was angry at him for it, when I should have been angry at myself for doing the same thing. And all of you had been trying to tell me that, and I wouldn’t listen. And now that we’re back I won’t make the same mistake.” He fixed Much with a resolute gaze. “We look after our people, that is our first priority.”
“I...I think that is a good plan, Master,” Much agreed, relieved, for there finally was a spark of life in Robin again. A sense of purpose. But he still needed to speak. “Master...I need to tell you something.”
Robin looked guilty. “I know I haven’t been myself since...but I’m trying - ”
“No,” Much cut him off, “it’s not about that, it’s...” He sighed heavily. “This is hard.” He looked upward, perhaps for divine inspiration for the right words, before he remembered that his faith had long been shattered, and he no longer trusted in God for guidance. “I have a confession to make.”
Robin looked at him curiously. “Go on,” he urged him.
“Your birthday party - in the barn, you remember?”
“Of course.”
“Well...” Much struggled to find the right words, before deciding that whichever ones he used would cause the same result. “There’s a reason why Marian couldn’t find us. I didn’t tell her. I should have, really. I’d even seen her earlier that week, and she’d asked me if we were going to celebrate your birthday, that it would be nice to see us all again. But I lied, and said no, we were far too busy.” The words fell out of his mouth in a mad rush.
“Much, I’m not sure where you’re going with this.” Robin already looked pained at the mention of Marian’s name, and clearly did not want him to continue. But Much had to unload the burden, even if it lost him Robin’s friendship.
“I told myself that it was too dangerous for her, you know, to get her out of the castle without being detected...but the truth is...” Much took a deep breath, and steeled himself. “The truth is, I didn’t want her there,” he pressed on. “Because when she’d been in the forest, it had been all about the two of you...because you listened to her opinion without question, and your thoughts were all for her. I suppose...I just wanted it to be us again. The gang.” Much’s voice cracked slightly, and hot tears formed behind his eyes, for his wounded pride, his shame, and his guilt. “And all I can think is if I hadn’t been so selfish and invited her along, then she never would have tried to kill the Sherriff and gotten captured. She would have escaped with us and...she could be alive now.”
Much turned to Robin, waiting for the justice to be served to him. He felt it fitting, really, his jealousy had made him want to keep Robin to himself, and in doing so he had probably lost his friendship for good. But Robin did not appear angry, in fact, he sat very still and silently. “Master?” he asked, looking for a reaction.
“Don’t,” Robin cut him off harshly, and when he looked up, there was a torrent of emotions swirling in his blue eyes. “Don’t call me Master.” Robin shook his head. “I don’t ever want to hear you call me that again.” Robin bowed his head again, and all his anger seemed to dissipate. “I don’t deserve it.” For a long time there was silence, as Much did not know how to take Robin’s reaction. So instead he watched him clench and unclench his jaw, waiting. Eventually, Robin began to speak.
“There are a million ways we could have saved her,” he said softly. “Don’t you think I’ve gone through every scenario in my head? All these possibilities - but that’s not what happened, and we can’t change it now. She’s gone.” Robin’s voice broke on those words, but he took a deep breath. “And I don’t ever want you feeling guilty for what are my mistakes, Much, and don’t try to argue with me,” he cut him off before Much could protest. “I drove you away, I didn’t treat you like you are worthy - as you should be treated. As a friend, a brother...as more than I deserve. So please don’t call me Master ever again.”
“Robin...” Much’s heart ached, happy to finally hear praise from Robin’s lips, and yet agonising to see him so torn apart inside by it. He seemed on the very verge of collapse.
“And it took her death to make me see everything clearly. Too clearly.” Robin brushed the back of his hand harshly against his eyes, where Much could see tears were beginning to escape. There was nothing else to do. Much pulled his friend into an embrace as the dam broke, and Robin sobbed into his shoulder as Much rocked him gently. It was the first time Robin had cried since the Holy Land, the first time he’d let anyone try and comfort him. And Much held him tighter, knowing that this was the worst Robin would get, and while it would cause him the most pain now, it meant the healing process had started.
It finally felt like they were moving on.
********************
Nottingham
In the shadows of his war room, Vaysey waited. He glared at his map of the known world, which had borne the brunt of his rage when he’d first returned to Nottingham castle. The small figures and flags that had been positioned in the Holy Land lay askew on the floor, and the entire region pounded to dust. All that remained was England, and his Black Knights situated across the country.
The mercenaries had long gone with the money he’d taxed the country to pay for. His vaults were empty. The Knights were already sending messengers asking why he had failed, worried that they would all be caught, wishing to back out of the entire plan. He’d killed every messenger and sent their bodies back to their lords, as a warning. They could not back out.
For Vaysey would not give up. He could bide his time, even when the odds had turned against him. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to start again from nothing.
The people, of course, had heard that Robin Hood had returned to them, and were once again filled with hope. Which was fine, in Vaysey’s opinion. To give the maggots hope and then crush it out of them made it all so much more entertaining. He didn’t expect that Hood would pose him a great a threat as he did before - he may have won the battle in Acre, but as Vaysey told him, he would have England. That was his goal, and ultimately, why he would win. He was not bound by earthly, base desires as Hood was - he would never be compromised by a servant, or follower, or woman.
That point still irritated him. He’d always known Marian to be a manipulative little madam - but he’d never twigged to her true allegiances. He’d underestimated her - he who had always prided himself of being able to read people, guess their true intentions, coerce them into revealing their weaknesses. He’d never seen that hers had been Hood, until the end. It bothered him that she’d been able to pull the wool over his eyes, and so successfully, for so long. But she was dead, repaid in spades her manipulation of Gisborne. He was actually quite proud of his protégé - Vaysey wouldn’t have thought he’d had it in him. Perhaps now, he could mould him into something more like himself - above such twaddle as love or compassion. He could build a new Gisbourne, now that Marian had crushed his heart. He almost thought of her fondly, for giving him that gift - to think of how much she would have hated that. It made him somewhat happier.
For Vaysey had a new plan. Already work was underway beneath Nottingham castle - workers were moving dirt and bringing in stone - digging in the earth, shaping the first step in his victory. In the dark underneath the castle his dream would be reborn.
And everything would be his.