FIC: Master of Locksley
Title: Master of Locksley
Author: jagnikjen
Word Count: 478
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Robin
Spoilers/Warnings: Bad Blood
Summary: Robin comes to terms with being the master of Locksley.
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone you recognize.
~*~*~
Master of Locksley
“Master Robin . . . you must eat,” Thornton called kindly, knocking lightly on the chamber door.
Robin wasn't hungry. He sat up and scrubbed his eyes with his fists, which still burned from the tears he'd shed.
His father was now dead. Sir Roger was gone. Lady Ghislaine was dead, too. Longthorne had forced Guy and Isabella to leave.
He was alone.
Longthorne had been right.
How was a ten-year-old boy going to care for his peasants? House them, feed them, clothe them. Robin knew little about managing the estates. And if something did go wrong, who was going to deal with a boy?
His words and his actions earlier had all been bravado . . . the echo of his father's words. And now . . . now he had to live up to them.
But how?
His father's words played in head yet again: You shouldn’t stand by and let something terrible happen because you were too scared to do the right thing.
He was scared. But the last time he'd been too scared to speak, to act, Guy had almost been hanged. If Sir Roger had not shown up when he did, Robin would have had to live with the guilt of Guy's death for the rest of his life.
If he didn't act, the peasants would starve or freeze.
If he didn't act, he would lose his father's lands-his lands now.
If he didn't act, there would be no shame. He was only ten years old, after all.
But if he didn't act, he would never forgive himself. He was Robin, lord of Locksley, Wadlow, Gisborne, Knighton and Bonchurch.
The people needed him. And he needed them. They would keep him motivated.
He also needed Thornton.
Swain had offered his help and it would come in handy. But Thornton had been at his father's side since before Robin was born. Since before Father married Mother. And Father had often said he couldn't have done it without Thornton.
Robin scrambled from his bed and tugged open his chamber door. It squeaked once as it flew around and banged into the wall with a loud thud. He half expected to hear Father bellow up the stairs about repairing the wall. Again.
He was halfway down the landing when he stopped. His father would never yell at him again. It was his manor now and if he wanted to tear it up, he could.
He'd give anything to be yelled out or put on restriction. But that was never going to happen again. He swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked back the tears.
“Thornton,” he called, clattering down the stairs, skipping the last three and jumping to the floor. “Thornton!”
Thornton appeared from hall leading to the kitchens and the servants area. “Master Robin. How can I be of service?”
“Can you please bring my supper? I’m ready now.”
~ Fin ~
~*~*~
Author: jagnikjen
Word Count: 478
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Robin
Spoilers/Warnings: Bad Blood
Summary: Robin comes to terms with being the master of Locksley.
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone you recognize.
~*~*~
Master of Locksley
“Master Robin . . . you must eat,” Thornton called kindly, knocking lightly on the chamber door.
Robin wasn't hungry. He sat up and scrubbed his eyes with his fists, which still burned from the tears he'd shed.
His father was now dead. Sir Roger was gone. Lady Ghislaine was dead, too. Longthorne had forced Guy and Isabella to leave.
He was alone.
Longthorne had been right.
How was a ten-year-old boy going to care for his peasants? House them, feed them, clothe them. Robin knew little about managing the estates. And if something did go wrong, who was going to deal with a boy?
His words and his actions earlier had all been bravado . . . the echo of his father's words. And now . . . now he had to live up to them.
But how?
His father's words played in head yet again: You shouldn’t stand by and let something terrible happen because you were too scared to do the right thing.
He was scared. But the last time he'd been too scared to speak, to act, Guy had almost been hanged. If Sir Roger had not shown up when he did, Robin would have had to live with the guilt of Guy's death for the rest of his life.
If he didn't act, the peasants would starve or freeze.
If he didn't act, he would lose his father's lands-his lands now.
If he didn't act, there would be no shame. He was only ten years old, after all.
But if he didn't act, he would never forgive himself. He was Robin, lord of Locksley, Wadlow, Gisborne, Knighton and Bonchurch.
The people needed him. And he needed them. They would keep him motivated.
He also needed Thornton.
Swain had offered his help and it would come in handy. But Thornton had been at his father's side since before Robin was born. Since before Father married Mother. And Father had often said he couldn't have done it without Thornton.
Robin scrambled from his bed and tugged open his chamber door. It squeaked once as it flew around and banged into the wall with a loud thud. He half expected to hear Father bellow up the stairs about repairing the wall. Again.
He was halfway down the landing when he stopped. His father would never yell at him again. It was his manor now and if he wanted to tear it up, he could.
He'd give anything to be yelled out or put on restriction. But that was never going to happen again. He swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked back the tears.
“Thornton,” he called, clattering down the stairs, skipping the last three and jumping to the floor. “Thornton!”
Thornton appeared from hall leading to the kitchens and the servants area. “Master Robin. How can I be of service?”
“Can you please bring my supper? I’m ready now.”
~ Fin ~
~*~*~