Eventually, instead of a flash of violence, William ended the silence with a long slow sigh. He dropped his head and brushed his hair from his face. It was objectively ridiculous, the two of them, squared off in de Lacy’s office, the whole world rallied around their shoulders. He slid into his chair, which creaked stubbornly to take him. Robin’s grim demeanor now seemed forced and out of place, and William couldn’t keep himself from smiling.

“Well, this is stupid.”

Robin’s face relaxed. He slumped back against the wall, he looked too weak to keep standing. Then his face turned quizzical, he raised one hand limply and pointed at the wall behind William’s back.

“Hm?” William twisted around. Robin had noticed the metal wreath William had salvaged from Locksley Castle. It had been cleaned now of its ash, its red and bronze colors brilliantly capturing the room’s candlelight.

“Sorry, Robin, I didn’t think you’d ever see that. I hope you don’t mind.” He reached up and plucked it from the nail where it hung, careful of its crooked pointed leaves pricking out at odd angles. “You left without it. I didn’t want it to get destroyed.”

“It’s fine,” Robin replied softly. “I don’t think I would have gone back for it.”

“I liked what you said about it.” William held it up with two fingers, slowly rotating its frame, watching the light worm around its edges. “Something about the mistakes that we make, and that we keep making.”

Again they caught each other’s eyes, and finally Robin smiled, albeit sadly. It had been some time since he had seen Robin’s smile, which was a lot to say.

William returned the wreath to the wall, watching the warped reflection of the room behind him. He suddenly realized his back was exposed to a man who was carrying a sword, and he burst out laughing.

“What?” Robin asked.

“You pointed behind me, and I looked!” William was nearly hysterical. “Master tactician here!”

Robin eased as he understood, and chuckled at the absurdity.

“Didn’t think it could be that easy, did you?” William could barely speak through his laughter. “What’s that over there? Stab.”

“I honestly didn’t think about it,” Robin answered, but his smile broke wide.

“Neither did I,” William sighed. That there, that was everything about them.

It was a thousand shared memories of unflinching trust, a comfort in one another that spanned years and years, in any language, in any war. And God, how William had missed it. “I would have been so shocked. I would have made the same face you made when you were shot with that arrow.”

“Ah.” Robin chuckled as well. “Did I make a face?”

“You made a face.”

“Well, in my defense, I had just been shot with an arrow.”