"No?" He had often let his mind take him down that course of 'what ifs'. What if he had not chosen to go to war? What if he had stayed with her, and they had started a life together, those years ago? They would be married by now. And likely have more than one child. They would be happy, together at Locksley. Or at least that was how his dreams tormented him. Making it all seem an impossible and perfect future now well out of his grasp.
It was strange, the feeling that was prompted by her placing her hand over the spot where his scar lay. It was not the only one, but it was by far the largest, and the one which had brought him closest to death. She had only seen it the once, and only briefly. There was a small, irrational and strangely self conscious part of him that wondered what she would think of it. To him it had become a reminder of his failure. Some sort of penance for choosing to leave her behind and seek out his foolish glory.