The Outlaws Camp

"Marian!"

Robin's frantic shout could be heard all through camp. However his gang members, well used to his cries in the night, either ignored him or slept right through his outburst. He gasped and pushed himself up on his arms to look around frantically for the person he most wanted to know was safe.

She was sleeping beside him, curled into a ball on her side, her hair messy and her cheeks flushed.

Robin let out a relieved breath and sunk back to lie flat on their bunk, his chest still moving up and down at a frantic pace.

It took several minutes for him to be calm, and he found that there would be no chance of sleep.

Every time he closed his eyes the images were there, the scenes of the Holy Land.

He was used to nightmares of the war, but this time the dreams were worse.

Instead of hundreds of bodies on the ground, this time Robin only saw one.

Unconsciously his eyes flitted to his wife who was lying facing him.

He reached to brush her hair off of her face and her eyes fluttered open.

She smiled slightly and closed her eyes again, yawning quietly, "Good morning."

He chuckled almost inaudibly, "Good morning."

Her eyes re-opened and this time they narrowed sympathetically as she reached to gently run her fingers under his eyes.

"Another nightmare?" She whispered.

He nodded, unable to speak or even think about it. For as much control as Robin had when it came to bloodshed and protecting the poor, there was nothing he could do to stop the dreams.

"Tell me?" She breathed.

She longed to help him, to make it all better, to allow him to sleep comfortably.

"We should be getting up." He said abruptly and sat up, pulling on his boots with his back to her.

She remained laying down and reached to run her fingers down the back of his tunic over his spine.

He stiffened at her touch and she whispered his name.

"My love don't hide from me." She breathed.

Robin quickly stood and walked swiftly towards the flap that led out into the main camp, from their own private section of the gang's home.

"We have many drop offs to do today." He told her as his parting shot, before leaving her sight.

She sighed and stood, wincing slightly as her abdominal muscles moved and tightened.

Whether it was from her wound or from the emotion that was still burning within her over her uncle's death she did not know... nor did she want to dwell on it.

Her scar had healed better than any of them could have hoped, she owed her life to Djac, she knew that much.

The Saracen and Will had returned to Sherwood with them, despite Djac's obvious longing to return home, they all knew that she would never ask Will to remain in a country where he could never be accepted.

Since their return to Sherwood from Doncaster Marian had not been into Nottingham.

Robin was all for her staying in the camp at all times, not even venturing into the villages, but she ignored his views for the most part, and he was learning to not to mollycoddle her... slowly.

Robin still burned with hatred for Guisborne, it was a furnace in him that he knew would never die.

The scratch he had inflicted on her cheek had healed thanks be to god, Marian did not want another scar, nor did she want Robins anger to bubble over every time he looked at her.

Marian sighed and pushed herself out of bed.

Robin stoked the fire as Much prepared breakfast and his wife emerged from their area of the camp.

His eyes followed her as she took her bowl of porridge from Much and sat beside him who was pushing his around his bowl.

He did not eat much, he never had.

As a boy he had preferred to play in the fields, and then as a teenager he had been more partial to spending the time with Marian than to waste it eating.

As a crusader he had little chance to dine, and as an outlaw, well it felt wrong to eat when so many of the people he cared about were going hungry.

For the most part, Robin found it easier to worry and think than to sit still and eat.

Alan walked out of his bunk, stretching his arms and grinning as Much handed him his bowl and spoon.

"Oh how I have looked forward to this." Alan mocked as he sat next to John, "Nothing like Squirrel in the morning to get you ready to face the day..."

Much was furious, "It is not squirrel."

Marian laughed along with everyone, but as she raised her spoon to her lips and the smell of the food hit her, her stomach took an uncomfortable lurch.

She swallowed and took a sniff of the mixture, before dropping the bowl and rushing out of camp with her hand over her mouth.

"Marian?" Robin broke free of his thoughts when she moved abruptly from his side.

He stood and ran after her, his gang's eyes on his back as he vanished from sight.

Alan looked grimly down at his breakfast, "Definitely squirrel."

Robin's hand rubbed up and down Marian's spine as her stomach rejected the small amount of food she had eaten. One of her hands rested on the tree to support herself, the other wrapped around her stomach.

Robin's eyes were narrow as she stood, her complexion normal, and her breath in short gasps.

"Are you okay?" He asked and she nodded, doing her best to smile at him.

"I do not know what came over me, I feel better now I promise." She told him, rubbing his forearms where his hands gently cupped her face.

"I can fetch Djac..." He was cut off by her laughing quietly.

"Do not worry my overly attentive husband, I am fine."

He sighed and kissed her forehead, before pulling apart from her as a loud gong sounded through the air.

The rest of the gang appeared next to them in under a minute.

"That's the alarm." Much said as he handed Robin his bow and arrows and Marian her sword.

Robin watched with mixed emotions as she tied her belt around her.

He looked at Djac, who smiled slightly. He took that to mean that there was nothing seriously wrong with his wife, and as much as he wanted her to remain at camp at all times to be safe, he knew that it was not feasible.

"Right," He said, "Let's secure some money for the poor of Nottingham shall we?"

A little distance away, a bald man in black astride a white horse chuckled; his eyes locked on the maiden with brown hair. Beside him, on a black stallion, a man in leather glared at the group below them, a few well placed guards hidden behind shrubbery and trees.

The resounding shout went up from Little John, "we are Robin Hood!"

The Sheriff chuckled and smiled to reveal a set of crooked and fake teeth.

"You most certainly are."