Hood » LotR ((ON HOLD))

Chapter Nine: The Execution of Robin Hood

Robin was taken back to the dungeons, deposited in the same cell that he had just been taken from with the hopes he would soon be a free man.

The irony was cruel.

Not a word was spoken as Faramir unlocked the cell and Robin stepped back inside, turning back toward the man and twins.

He tried to mask the many emotions that were twisting in his gut.

Momentarily, he met Elladan's gaze, whose dark blue eyes were storming. The elf twin gave him a silent gaze back, never saying a word.

Then he turned and started away, Elrohir giving Robin a small glance before he followed his brother.

Faramir stood before the cell, looking at a loss for words.

But Robin really didn't want to hear his either pity or agreement with the king's choice, so he turned away himself, sliding into a sitting position against the bars.

For a moment, Faramir didn't move. Then Robin heard him sigh softly, followed by the sound of his footsteps moving away.

Silently, Robin brought his knees to his chest, resting his forehead on his kneecaps.

And hours passed.

Robin tried to remember the days before he couldn't show his face in a single city. The days he went by the name of Wilin.

He led a simple life for hundreds of years. Both his father and mother were of the Avari, but never followed the many of their kin who settled with the Silvan elves.

Instead, they took up residence in the outskirts of Gondor, in a small home with a few horses and crops. Robin learned how to hold a bow from his father, but it was never needed for anything other than hunting or defense against an orc or two.

For the longest of times, he was content.

It was the War of the Ring that disrupted the peace.

First it was the orcs, raiding in from the dark trees and the depths of Mordor. Then it was the sky turning black and nights lasting for ages, death itself claiming the land.

Finally, it was his father, telling them he was to depart for the White City, to join forces against the looming shadow of the Dark Lord.

Telling Robin that he could not come.

Robin took to the streets months after his mother's death. First, he took little jobs for money-- petty theft, minor threats. Then bigger ones; a raiding from the Mirkwood treasury, scaring the wits out of the second-in-command to the Riders of Rohan in order to complete a threat.

But never in his life had he killed.

He took a different job about a month after the war; to kill the Marchwarden of Lorien; an elf by the name of Haldir.

Robin made it to Lorien forest and into the hidden city. He had seen his target and prepared for his kill... but he never went through with it.

He couldn't.

That was the day he changed his name and stopped taking jobs. He decided his own missions from then on-- and it was quickly that his face became known in every city and town he visited.

"Hood."

Robin abruptly snapped out of his thoughts, lifting his head and turning from the bars.

Elanor stood outside of his cell.

"If you're here to gloat," Robin turned back away, facing the wall again. "I wouldn't recommend it. Gloating is my thing."

"I came here with food."