Chapter Text
Deep in the forest under the fog
Armies surround us waiting for dark
Wearing their iron masks like shield
I know they’re coming I know they’re here
Oh that light, oh is bright
Sleep for today but tomorrow we fight
Tommee Profitt feat. Svrcina - Tomorrow We Fight
By the time daylight was fading behind the trees, their little band of outlaws had trekked far enough into the woods that Marian didn’t recognize any paths. Her father had never ventured so deep into the forest on the small poaching trips that she had accompanied him on. Judging by the weary, confused looks on her companions’ faces, no one else was familiar with the interior of Sherwood forest either.
Only Robin, who as a lord had been legally allowed to hunt in the forest during his youth, knew which paths to follow.
And Rob’s strength was fading faster than the light.
He hadn’t let her look at any of his wounds yet. He’d insisted they needed to put space between themselves and the cardinal’s army first. In the wake of the sheriff’s death and the riot, Nottingham’s knights and men-at-arms had been in disarray, but Rob and John both surmised it wouldn’t be long until a new sheriff was appointed and their little band had pursuers.
But by the way Rob was limping, the distance they’d already traveled would have to suffice for now.
Marian slipped her hand into his and tugged him to a halt. “Rob, we’re losing light. Evelyn’s young ones are asleep, and the men are wasting energy carrying them. Everyone is tired, and you’re hurt.”
John paused beside them and leaned on his walking stick. Robin’s eyes flicked between them before he smiled faintly. “I don’t have any hope of arguing, do I?”
Marian reached up to brush dirt from a scrape on his cheek. “Of course not. At the next source of water that we find, we’re stopping.”
Within fifteen minutes, they were making camp for the night beside a stream. But it took another hour for shelter and fire building, then figuring out the night watch shifts, before Marian had Rob seated in front of a fire with a pot of water heating in the coals. She mashed comfrey that she’d gathered earlier against a rock and tested the water to see if it was hot enough yet to make a poultice. Beside her, Rob gingerly removed his jacket and pulled his shirt over his head.
His shirt had dried stuck to the bloody wound in his chest from the crossbow bolt. Rob cursed and tried to tug the cloth free before Marian’s hands were on his chest. “Stop that, you’ll tear the wound open again. We just need to dampen it with some water.” She dipped a rag into the pot on the coals, then pressed it against the blood-crusted shirt. “Didn’t you learn wound care in the army?”
Rob turned a hiss of pain into a laugh. “Crusade doctors loved prattling on about their tinctures of mercury and the balance of humours in the body. Then when I picked up a bolt in my leg during the treasury raid, John taught me the method of cauterization.” He met her eyes ruefully. “Unfortunately, there hasn’t been a woods healer in my life for four years.”
She didn’t want to think about that. “Well, now you’re in good hands. I’ve gained even more experience during the last couple years, thanks to mining accidents sending patients to my door.” The material of Robin’s shirt lifted free from the dried wound, and Marian suddenly felt awkward at seeing him shirtless. She reached back for her mashed comfrey. It felt odd and familiar at the same time to be so close to him again. She’d never fallen out of love with Rob, even after she’d thought him dead, but she’d fallen in love with an eager, rich young lord who was unexpectedly kind. The veteran and outlaw in front of her with scars hidden behind his eyes to match the ones on his body seemed like a completely different person now – a person who made her pulse quicken in a way her old Robin or Will never had.
Marian focused on the poultice to divert her thoughts and quickly mashed it with the warm water to give it the consistency of a paste. She packed the mixture into Robin’s wound and tried not to think about the kiss they’d shared as she’d pulled the bolt from his chest. She hoped that the exhaustion of the day was enough to distract them both. She was struggling to keep her eyes open as she helped him shrug back into his shirt and jacket. Dirty though they were, the garments were better than nothing against the night’s chill.
Rob noticed her fatigue and gently pulled her down next to him on the blanket in front of the fire. John and Tuck were both already asleep, lying on the other side of the fire. Beyond the glow of the flames, she could see two men from the mines who had joined their band standing on guard in the shadows.
“Thank you, Marian, for the medicine,” Rob whispered into her hair. “Now try to get some sleep.”
Exhaustion won over uncertainty, and Marian scooted between Rob and the fire to tuck her body in front of his. Rob’s arms were hesitant as they closed around her, but she felt the tension in him leave as soon as she leaned back against his chest, taking care not to put pressure on his wound. A few minutes passed, and she was almost asleep when she heard Rob say thickly, “I thought I’d never get to hold you again.”
“Me too,” she murmured, and would have said more, but her body decided that words could wait until the morning.
Neither of them was going anywhere.