fic: It's Dangerous to Self-analyze (robin hood; robin; rating: pg-13)
Title: It's Dangerous to Self-analyze
Author: lily_268
Rating: pg-13
WC: 1,000
Summary: Insights into Robin's head, flashbacks to the Holy Land, possible explanations for his behaviour
Spoilers: up to episode 2.06
Characters: Robin, mentions of Robin/Marian
Author's Notes: I stole...but it was from myself. Does that make it okay? I borrowed from that Five Things meme I did awhile ago because I really liked a line. If not, feel free to flame me for being a lying thief!
”Forget him. He’s dead to us.
With so many lost comrades-in-arms that were left to turn to dust in the Holy Lands, you would think that he would be more hesitant about condemning another man to the past tense.
He walks into the room with sure steps, thankful that his hands are steady and his vision is calm. This is not a time for the fury of righteous battle; in fact, he hopes he will never witness that again. Then he sees Marian in chains and his vision flashes red like it’s only done once before, when he was in a different land, in a different time. When he was a different man.
He looks on with helplessness, guilt and fear; he has sinned and cannot be forgiven because there are no ends to justify the means. He feels farther away from her now than he ever did while writing his farewell note.
---
"You can’t just decide to go like this and go without planning, without us."
For three days he spent wiping a cool cloth against Much’s brow after they had just made it out of Jerusalem with the rest of the wounded soldiers to be sent back to England. This was before their regiment was picked off and scattered, as one by one they fell to the lure of money, the promise of home or the betrayal of death. This was while they still held together like the roots of a tree as it weathered a storm.
For three days he prayed that Much’s fever would break, that he would mumble goofy lyrics and annoying truths again. Much awoke when he was stifling a quarrel in the market between his men and the merchants. He arrived back to the hovel that housed them to see an empty mattress. The shock never quite wore off and he vowed not to feel that pain again.
The next time Much got too close, Robin pushed him down a hill.
---
“This isn’t the time.”
He remembers his first time, it was with Lara-the-serving-maid that had been brought along as part of a larger entourage for one of the more affluent knights. She was a hand-me-down from a haughty Lord, yet she didn’t seem to mind that he slept in his tent near his men, ready to awaken at the first hint of danger. She never complained about his sparse surroundings and lack of furs or honeyed fruit.
Instead she just slid her body against his in the dead of night, when the heat was finally close to bearable, the sweat making their hands slip down each other’s backs as he moved inside her and she called out to heaven.
Upon leaving Actium, he gave Lara-the-serving-maid a gift of a silver comb, something he found in a nearby market that had submitted to English rule. She didn’t cry or ask who she was going to next, but clutched it to her breast and sighed.
Now he stares at hair of a very different colour and wonders what it would be like to make love in the forest on a cold, crisp morning or in a canopy bed under cotton sheets. He finds it amazing how quickly his hand slides to find a familiar place on her back and how dizzy he feels after seeing her smile.
---
”Before what? What do we have to warn her about?”
He isn't perfect - and surprise, he knows it. He hides his fear and mistakes behind anger, shock and arrogance. (It took him four years to reach his level of skill with a bow.) He's terrified that someone will find out how flawed he is.
He smiles and flirts as he watches her live her life without him. He hides his brutality and nightmares that plague him with cold sweats and a paranoia that takes months to fade.
He watches her ride off on a golden brown steed and notices how perfectly she fits in that world.
He is secretly glad when she refuses to come to the forest with him because he doesn’t think he could pretend all the time, that he would slip up and she would see the monster he can be. He can’t lose her like that, not after working so hard to be worthy.
---
”Mostly for the life, the love that we could not have, I am truly sorry.”
It would be a life of boredom after the action has died down, the King would be safe and secure and England would flourish, forgetting that it ever needed outlaws and Night Watchmen jumping out from the leaves.
They would be comfortable in Locksley, managing the serfs, making sure they are all fed and healthy. Perhaps even worrying about a little one of their own. It would not be heroic or worthy of legend, but he knows that being a hero means having your heart ripped out and sacrificing everything. He could do with a little time to rest in front a fire that wasn’t the camp’s only source of light and heat.
Words like traitor and treason float around his mind as he tries to remember the England he is trying to save. He tries to remember speaking with the King briefly; perhaps during strategic sessions or at feasts after a successful advance. Sometimes he feels confident that the England he envisions is possible, that it is not just boyhood idealism. Other times doubt gnaws at him every day that He is absent and he knows she would need more in her life than a home and children.
---
”Time to disappear”
It is with satisfaction that he buries arrows, the pleasing knowledge that he has penetrated a boundary that was not meant to be broken. He used to aim for boots, gloves, coats and even a sandal before merrily skipping back to the place that they would camp for the night.
Time has taken its toll. He has been living in the forest for a year and a permanent camp has been set up, a finality all too close. He cannot remember what a real bed feels like and it has been a long time since he’s skipped anywhere with a grin on his face.
His heart lightens when he sees her adoring smile through the flames as the rush of escape fills him. He thinks that maybe he could sleep in the forest for five years if she’ll still be smiling like that by the time he can get through the flames to her.
Author: lily_268
Rating: pg-13
WC: 1,000
Summary: Insights into Robin's head, flashbacks to the Holy Land, possible explanations for his behaviour
Spoilers: up to episode 2.06
Characters: Robin, mentions of Robin/Marian
Author's Notes: I stole...but it was from myself. Does that make it okay? I borrowed from that Five Things meme I did awhile ago because I really liked a line. If not, feel free to flame me for being a lying thief!
”Forget him. He’s dead to us.
With so many lost comrades-in-arms that were left to turn to dust in the Holy Lands, you would think that he would be more hesitant about condemning another man to the past tense.
He walks into the room with sure steps, thankful that his hands are steady and his vision is calm. This is not a time for the fury of righteous battle; in fact, he hopes he will never witness that again. Then he sees Marian in chains and his vision flashes red like it’s only done once before, when he was in a different land, in a different time. When he was a different man.
He looks on with helplessness, guilt and fear; he has sinned and cannot be forgiven because there are no ends to justify the means. He feels farther away from her now than he ever did while writing his farewell note.
---
"You can’t just decide to go like this and go without planning, without us."
For three days he spent wiping a cool cloth against Much’s brow after they had just made it out of Jerusalem with the rest of the wounded soldiers to be sent back to England. This was before their regiment was picked off and scattered, as one by one they fell to the lure of money, the promise of home or the betrayal of death. This was while they still held together like the roots of a tree as it weathered a storm.
For three days he prayed that Much’s fever would break, that he would mumble goofy lyrics and annoying truths again. Much awoke when he was stifling a quarrel in the market between his men and the merchants. He arrived back to the hovel that housed them to see an empty mattress. The shock never quite wore off and he vowed not to feel that pain again.
The next time Much got too close, Robin pushed him down a hill.
---
“This isn’t the time.”
He remembers his first time, it was with Lara-the-serving-maid that had been brought along as part of a larger entourage for one of the more affluent knights. She was a hand-me-down from a haughty Lord, yet she didn’t seem to mind that he slept in his tent near his men, ready to awaken at the first hint of danger. She never complained about his sparse surroundings and lack of furs or honeyed fruit.
Instead she just slid her body against his in the dead of night, when the heat was finally close to bearable, the sweat making their hands slip down each other’s backs as he moved inside her and she called out to heaven.
Upon leaving Actium, he gave Lara-the-serving-maid a gift of a silver comb, something he found in a nearby market that had submitted to English rule. She didn’t cry or ask who she was going to next, but clutched it to her breast and sighed.
Now he stares at hair of a very different colour and wonders what it would be like to make love in the forest on a cold, crisp morning or in a canopy bed under cotton sheets. He finds it amazing how quickly his hand slides to find a familiar place on her back and how dizzy he feels after seeing her smile.
---
”Before what? What do we have to warn her about?”
He isn't perfect - and surprise, he knows it. He hides his fear and mistakes behind anger, shock and arrogance. (It took him four years to reach his level of skill with a bow.) He's terrified that someone will find out how flawed he is.
He smiles and flirts as he watches her live her life without him. He hides his brutality and nightmares that plague him with cold sweats and a paranoia that takes months to fade.
He watches her ride off on a golden brown steed and notices how perfectly she fits in that world.
He is secretly glad when she refuses to come to the forest with him because he doesn’t think he could pretend all the time, that he would slip up and she would see the monster he can be. He can’t lose her like that, not after working so hard to be worthy.
---
”Mostly for the life, the love that we could not have, I am truly sorry.”
It would be a life of boredom after the action has died down, the King would be safe and secure and England would flourish, forgetting that it ever needed outlaws and Night Watchmen jumping out from the leaves.
They would be comfortable in Locksley, managing the serfs, making sure they are all fed and healthy. Perhaps even worrying about a little one of their own. It would not be heroic or worthy of legend, but he knows that being a hero means having your heart ripped out and sacrificing everything. He could do with a little time to rest in front a fire that wasn’t the camp’s only source of light and heat.
Words like traitor and treason float around his mind as he tries to remember the England he is trying to save. He tries to remember speaking with the King briefly; perhaps during strategic sessions or at feasts after a successful advance. Sometimes he feels confident that the England he envisions is possible, that it is not just boyhood idealism. Other times doubt gnaws at him every day that He is absent and he knows she would need more in her life than a home and children.
---
”Time to disappear”
It is with satisfaction that he buries arrows, the pleasing knowledge that he has penetrated a boundary that was not meant to be broken. He used to aim for boots, gloves, coats and even a sandal before merrily skipping back to the place that they would camp for the night.
Time has taken its toll. He has been living in the forest for a year and a permanent camp has been set up, a finality all too close. He cannot remember what a real bed feels like and it has been a long time since he’s skipped anywhere with a grin on his face.
His heart lightens when he sees her adoring smile through the flames as the rush of escape fills him. He thinks that maybe he could sleep in the forest for five years if she’ll still be smiling like that by the time he can get through the flames to her.