Chapter Text
We are brothers, Robin of Locksley.
The words echoed around Robin’s head as they headed off to finally face the sheriff.
After all this time, believing that his family was gone and lost to him forever, this man – no, boy – had snuck in and given him one last reason to fight. Robin did not know how this day would end, whether either of them would live to see tomorrow, but for now, this revelation had to be enough.
He glanced at the back of his brother’s head and sent up his prayers.
Lord, if we live, let me do right by him.
The smell of burning wood and the persistent stench of mud did not repulse Robin as he made his way across the courtyard. The ruins of the castle were their spoils of war, the chaos surrounding him their victory festivities.
Robin’s steps were lighter than they had been in years. Before the rebellion and his times in Sherwood, before the crusades and his imprisonment, before his endless fights with his father. He had accomplished all he had set out to do. His father was avenged, and he had saved Marin and fulfilled his vow to Peter. Marion, who at this very moment, was with her ladies making preparations to contact her family in London, in order to seek permission to marry him.
Every moment in the last several months had led up to this moment of celebration. Escaping from prison, rallying the men of Sherwood, reconnecting with Marian, and even discovering that his family was not completely gone. All of these moments and memories had been leading to this singular point in time.
They had won.
As Robin’s feet made light treads on the straw-hewn muck around him, he smiled at those he met along his way: a grin to Azeem and the village children, a slap on the back to John, and a small bow to Fanny. The whoops and laughs filled the cool night air with an uncanny warmth, and a nearby fire crackled.
All was well.
…Well, maybe not all.
Squinting across the smouldering remains of stalls and the groups of people dancing their celebrations, Robin spotted a lone figure at the gate. Silhouetted against the purple sky and the orange perimeter fires, the man lazily flipped a gleaming knife back and forth. Robin knew who he was immediately: the only one that Robin had not found in the revels following the short-lived battle, the only one that he seemingly could not reach.
After the fires were put out and the battle had ended, Robin had hardly seen his brother. They had communicated only in short missives about clearing the courtyard and making plans for the coming days; rationing, tending to the wounded, burying the dead. In the midst of the continuous rush, the pair had hardly had a chance to stop working, let alone sit and talk out all that had taken place in the past days.
Something within Robin ached at the sight of his little brother standing alone in the cold outside the castle whilst parties raged in the pleasant warmth of the courtyard. Bolstered and slightly addled by the adrenaline of the fight and the following celebrations, Robin made his way over to his brother. He had made a promise, after all.
‘Will!’ The jovial call rang through the square but was quickly swallowed by the festivities. Robin broke out into a gentle jog, weaving in and out of the crowd to approach his brother.
‘Will,’ he tried again once he was in earshot, a little quieter but no less chipper. ‘There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you.
Will turned to him, shocked and a little sceptical. He said nothing.
Sighing, half from frustration and half from fatigue, Robin maneuvered himself into a sitting position and gestured for his brother to do the same. A silent argument followed, but it seemed that Robin was the better brother at arguing using only his eyebrows. Will shrugged and sat down, leaving a good space between them. The grass was pleasant under them, cool and dewy in the twilight. ‘
Will’s face was lined with shadows, but the worry lines were clear as day.
‘You’ve gone very quiet, little brother. Where has that trademark Will Scarlett sarcasm gone?’
Will grimaced a little at the familial appellation and shifted uneasily. The boy’s face rippled with emotion, before finally settling on a disinterred mask.
“Nowhere that concerns you, Locksley,” Will quickly responded with the expected jab. He flashed a small grin before returning to his rhythmic knife twirling, a habit that Robin was quickly coming to recognise as a nervous tick.
“Don’t be like that, now, brother.” Robin continued in a joking spirit. He made to put his hand on Will’s arm to still the boy’s anxious fidgeting but was met with a fierce glare. The expression seemed purely a defensive reaction as Will soon lowered his eyes and sighed.
“Locksley…,” the boy trailed off, unsure.
Robin waited patiently for him to continue.
“You don’t have to do this, you know. We’ve won, it’s over. You don’t need to pretend to care.” The young man suddenly caught his knife and sheathed it somewhere in the folds of his overcoat, before stumbling on. “Our… relation was a convenient motivation, Locksley. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that. I will not be offended.”
The boy quickly glanced up at Robin before returning his gaze one more to his feet.
Shocked, Robin could do no more than stare at the mystery of a little brother that the Lord had seen fit to give him. What went on inside the boy’s mind was more of a mystery than Azeem’s various contraptions and concoctions.
“William, I promise that’s not what this is.” Robin breathed deeply before continuing. “I have never rejoiced more than when I learned of our relation. I always wanted a brother.”
Will looked at him and gave his older brother a wry smile.
“I’d say you never expected one like me though.”
The two chuckled good-naturedly. It was a clear attempt at levity, to diffuse the situation and save both of them from the embarrassment of – God forbid – expressing their emotions. But Robin also heard the sliver of anxiety contained within it; that ever-present fear of rejection.
“Perhaps not,” Robin admitted with a nod. “But I am no less grateful to have found you.”
With that, Robin leaned over sightly, bridging the gap between the two brothers. He gently bumped his shoulder against his younger brother’s and carefully patted his knee.
“You should get some sleep, Will.”
The words were out before Robin could contemplate the thousands of ways in which this display of concern would embarrass or even anger his precocious little brother. Just as the affection had come naturally to him before he could consider whether or not it would be welcome. He’d simply seen the drooped eyes and dark purple bags and felt compelled to sweep Will up and take him far away from the uncertainty of their life, wrap him up until the confusion had passed.
But Will was not a child, nor would he be treated as one. He was a young man who had every right to be angry at a world – and a family – that had done nothing but betray him at every turn. What right did he have to show such concern for Will, when he was the one who had caused him so much pain? Robin cursed his stupidity.
But, thankfully, it seemed that Will was in no mood for a fight.
“Don’t worry yourself about me, Locksley,” Will responded, a peace offering of sorts. “I’ve already told John that I’ll take this night watch.”
Robin hesitated, reluctant to leave this interaction with so many loose ends and unsaid words.
“Go,” Will insisted, waving his hands in the vague direction of the castle courtyard. “Find your lady. I’ll still be here in the morning.”
Robin sighed. This boy…
“Swap over with one of the men once the sun sets.” Will scoffed and Robin glared. “Promise me, William.”
“Aye, sir,” Will smirked.
Robin stood to leave and took a gamble, placing his splayed hand on the crown of his brother's head.
And for a moment, for one breath, the brothers looked out into the hills and forest surrounding them. For a moment, old hurts were forgotten, and they were brothers. Just two brothers.
Then Will tilted away, Robin lifted his hand, and the moment passed. The wind rustled the blades of grass beneath them.
As he turned to leave, Robin remembered his fevered prayer before the battle. He had pledged that he would find a way to draw close to his little brother, to give him the family and care that he deserved. This first attempt may have been tentative and unsure, but one day they would look back and laugh at their foolishness. They may not know how to act around each other, but one day they would be thick as thieves. They may not be close yet, but Robin was hopeful that one day they would.
Lord, if we live, let me do right by him.
In the limbo following their victory, Robin was confident in little and sure of even less.
But he did promise this: Robin of Locksley and Will Scarlett would be brothers yet.