“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.”

“Oh no,” William put his hands up, “you were amazing. You didn’t scream at all. The arrow went right through your leg and into the horse, and you still had every wit about you, calling out, ‘Hold, hold!’ to the men. It was a sight, let me tell you. An army enraged, all halted in midstep.” He shook his head. “I doubt I could have done that.”

Robin’s chest shook up and down silently, then he rolled from a private little laugh to a full one. “I wasn’t calling out ‘Hold!’ to the men. I was talking to my horse!”

William couldn’t believe it. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“No, I didn’t want him to run away, we were pinned together!”