Lady Locksley

Chapter 47

Romance and Respite

Allan was tired and preoccupied. Guiding his horse, stolen from Nottingham, with one hand while he held Roana, in front of him in the saddle, close with the other, he mulled over the events of the afternoon.
Although Robin's rescue had gone better than any of them had expected, Allan couldn't help but feel the thrum of low-level anger whenever he thought of Roana's injuries. Her face was a mess, with her cheek swollen and red, and her lower lip bloodied. Although it did little to mar her beauty, it had still happened when Allan should have been protecting her, at the hands of the man who had attempted to harm her before.
Allan felt responsible. His feelings for Roana were no secret, yet they often confused him, for he had never experienced them before. He felt protective of her, yet also experienced a degree of possessiveness, unused as he was to trusting anyone with his heart after his mother had broken it when he was a child. The idea of Bridlington with his hands anywhere near Roana made Allan brim with fury. How dare he? Roana was as good as Allan's girlfriend, and that meant nobody else laid a finger on her!
Allan knew he shouldn't think of her in that way. Roana was a lady, and he was just an outlaw. A nobody in comparison. But it genuinely felt like she belonged with him, and he didn't want her to be harmed in any way. He didn't want anybody or anything to jeopardise their budding relationship.
Allan sighed, quietly, and Roana stirred in the saddle, as if sensing his disquiet. She squeezed his arm, tight around her waist, and he kissed the back of her head. She was exhausted; Bridlington's attack had literally knocked her for six, and she needed rest as well as treatment for her face.
Ahead of them, Robin rode with Marian, the back of his tunic stained red in strips. His decision to go to Second Chance was indicative of the pain he was in, for he clearly craved comfort over the functionality of the camp. Djaq and Will had gone on ahead to arrange accommodation, medicine, and food, while Much and Little John brought up the rear, talking quietly amongst themselves.
Well, John was talking quietly. Much was hungry, indignant, and worried about Robin, and when he was over-emotional, his voice tended to carry. Still, it was a small comfort to Allan, who listened with half an ear. The familiarity of Much's endless chatter helped to take his mind off his anger at Bridlington, and he even found himself muffling an occasional laugh. Much was hilarious at times, especially when he wasn't meaning to be.
Eventually, as the forest closed in around them in a tangle of birch and blackthorn, they dismounted and tethered the horses in a small, grassy clearing, alongside Will and Djaq's mount. Marian was looking confused, having never been so far into the greenwood, and Much saw his chance to be useful to Robin by taking the lead.
Allan and Roana fell behind, and it seemed only natural to link hands, threading their fingers through each others. Their morning in the wildflower meadow seemed so very far away. So much had happened in the interim, and now, the shadows were growing long across the woodland as the late summer sun took its leave. Allan wanted nothing more than to lie down with his arms around Roana, and sleep. He was staying with her tonight; he didn't care how inappropriate it may appear. He wouldn't leave her.
Second Chance was a welcome haven of light and activity in the darkening forest. Inhabitants bustled about the small dwelling, greeting them warmly. There was a fire burning merrily in the centre of the camp and the air was heavy with the scent of cooking meat. There were candles in the trees and a group of youngsters stared at them, wide-eyed, from behind one of the huts. One of them, a tangle-haired girl of around nine, approached Marian, shyly, reaching out a tentative hand to touch her pale blue gown.
"Hello! What's your name?" Marian crouched down to speak to her, and the other children slowly approached. Two tow-headed boys looked up at Much.
"Are you Robin Hood?" One of them asked, and everybody laughed, pushing Robin forward to meet his adoring public.
Djaq came towards them accompanied by an older woman, small and gnarled with a weathered brown face. She approached Robin and took his hand in hers.
"Robin of Locksley."
"Deorwynne of Nettlestone," Robin replied with obvious pleasure. "The best healer in the shire."
She cackled, as flirtatious as a young girl, and rested her other hand on his arm. "Oh, you and your flattery. You will never change." Robin laughed. "Now, my friend Djaq here tells me you are hurt, my dear. You come with me and I will fix you."
She allowed Djaq to draw him away and looked beyond at the rest of the outlaws, her gaze falling on Roana. She approached on slow, steady feet. "And you, my dear - you are his sister, are you not? You are alike."
Roana gave her a small smile. "I'm Roana. Nice to meet you."
Deorwynne peered at her face, closely. "Somebody has made a mess of you, my lovely. But it does not detract from your beauty."
"Oh. Umm." Roana faltered and blushed. "Thank you."
"No need for embarrassment, my dear. I have something to put on that swelling and reduce the redness and the pain. Come." She held out a wrinkled hand to Roana, and looked at Allan. "I'll look after her for now, handsome, if you can bear to let go of her."
Allan grinned and allowed the old woman to take Roana's hand from his, watching as she was lead away into a nearby hut before he followed Much and Little John to the fire. Will was already seated, tearing into a hunk of meat. Allan suddenly realised how hungry he was, and accepted a mug of cider, taking a seat beside Will. The atmosphere in the tiny dwelling was light-hearted and carefree, and he felt his earlier feelings of frustrated anger and helplessness begin to drift away as he relaxed and joined in the chatter with the villagers. Allan was always comfortable in a crowd, able to engage himself in most social situations, but he kept a close eye on the nearby hut, waiting for Roana to emerge. The other outlaws noticed and began to rib him, gently.
"She'll be back soon, Allan. Relax," Will said, rolling his eyes.
"Here. Have some cider." Little John thrust a flagon into his hands. "Lighten up."
"You know, you've changed," Much declared, pointing a chicken leg at him. "Mellowed. It's a good thing."
"No, I haven't," Allan scoffed, reaching over to grab the chicken leg off him. "I could still kick your arse."
"Bla-di-bla-di-blah!" Much said in a fairly adept impression of the Sheriff, and the small group laughed.
Eventually, Djaq and Robin rejoined them. Robin was walking stiffly, and Djaq explained that she had had to apply stitches to the open wounds on his back, caused by a particularly brutal lashing from the jailer with a cat o' nine tails. The wounds had been cleaned beforehand and a salve applied afterwards to aid the healing.
"Thanks, Djaq. I'm going to stay here tonight so Deorwynne can check my stitches in the morning," Robin told them. He looked at Marian, a mischievous tone to his voice. "You will stay too, my love? To look after me?"
Marian laughed even as she allowed him to take her hand and draw her close. "I think you have plenty of women to help you here," she admonished with a smile. She kissed him, quickly. "I will return to Locksley for my father, but I will be back tomorrow. If I can find this place again!"
As they said their goodbyes, Djaq approached Allan and gestured to the hut behind them. "Roana is in there. You can go to see her."
"Is she alright?" he asked, scrambling to his feet, concerned.
"She's fine, just tired," Djaq replied. "I think she will stay here tonight."
Allan nodded, and began to move towards the hut. The rest of the gang were preparing to leave, bidding their farewells to the villagers and thanking them for their hospitality.
"Allan, you'll have to be quick. We're heading back to Locksley with Marian," Will called, and Allan turned round, walking backwards as he replied.
"I'm gonna stay here with Ro," he said, then quickly added, "and Robin."
Much and Little John exchanged pointed glances and Much smirked, while Will laughed outright.
"What?" Allan said, defensively.
"I told you," Much said to John.
"Oh, shut up, Much," Allan retorted, dismissively.
Robin laughed, quietly. "Leave him alone, lads. You're just jealous because you aren't loved up."
Little John and Much laughed, raucously, while Djaq and Will glanced at one another then quickly away. Robin raised an eyebrow at Allan.
Shaking his head in exasperation, Allan turned away, throwing a hand up and shouting over his shoulder, "I'll see you idiots tomorrow."
The entrance to the hut was covered by thick animal pelts, and Allan drew them to the side, poking his head through, cautiously. "Ro?"
"Allan! Come in."
He entered, looking about him, curiously. This was the first time he had observed the interior of the Second Chance huts, and he was interested to discover how they lived. It was small and not particularly spacious, but it had been created for comfort. While the living area consisted of the whole camp, the huts were clearly for rest only, and had been designed as such. The majority of the area was taken up by a large, makeshift mattress, stuffed with straw, and covered with animal skins and fleeces. There were also animal pelts nailed to the walls, presumably to keep the cold out and the warmth in. There were lit candles in a pit on the floor, casting elongated shadows on the surfaces.
Eyeing the mattress, Allan felt a wave of exhaustion overtake him, and went to join Roana, who was lay down. He stretched out beside her, propping himself up on one elbow so he could see her face, and she turned onto her side so she was facing him.
"How's your cheek?"
"Deorwynne cleaned it up and put a salve on it. It feels better. How does it look?"
He reached over and traced the curve of her cheek very gently, barely grazing her skin. Roana's breath caught, her eyes liquid-dark in the candlelight.
"It looks better." He focused on her mouth. Her bottom lip was slightly swollen, but the blood had been cleared away and there was only a slight mark where her teeth had pierced the skin. He brushed his thumb across the offending lip, gently. "Does that hurt?"
She shook her head, gazing at him, intently. He heard her throat click as she swallowed, and moved closer so he could brush her lips with his, then moved back to look into her eyes.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there to stop Bridlington."
Roana's eyes widened in surprise. "I know you are, but don't be. It could have been so much worse, but it wasn't, thankfully. If anything, it was my fault for wandering around the castle on my own."
Allan shook his head, stubbornly. "I should have been there with you."
She touched his face, softly. "You can't be with me all the time, Allan. I don't blame you. It was William, being a drunken lout."
Allan lowered his eyes, his gaze caressing her bruised cheek. "He hurt you though, and I want to kill him for that."
Roana smiled, attempting to lighten the mood. "I know you do, and that's why I love you."
His eyes met hers, startled. She was looking at him with such emotion in her eyes that he couldn't deny her feelings, or his own. A wide smile spread across his face as his heart swelled in his chest. "I love you, too."
She scooted closer to press her lips against his, sealing the affirmation, and then moved her mouth to his ear. "My heart," she breathed.
Nobody had ever spoken to Allan with such deep and devout feeling, and he was overcome by such a wave of love and desire that he pulled her to him and kissed her fiercely, forgetting about her lip. She responded, winding herself around him and kissing him back, deeply. The kiss was a declaration of everything between them, and everything that was to come, and he broke away with reluctance. Roana smirked and shuffled closer still, moulding her body to his and Allan looped his arm tightly around her back.
"So, is me wanting to kill Bridlington the only reason you love me?" he asked with a smirk of his own.
"Nope," Roana replied and smiled, enigmatically.
He raised his eyebrows, his grin broadening. "Tell me, then."
Roana pretended to think about it and then looked at him, impishly, from under her lashes. "Get me some food and I might tell you."
He laughed and kissed the tip of her nose before easing away from her. "It's a deal."
Roana turned over to watch him leave, propping her head on her hand. "And maybe, after I've eaten, we can pick up where we left off earlier today." He looked at her and she waggled her eyebrows. "We aren't on the forest floor anymore."
Allan laughed, delightedly, catching her meaning. He looked at the ground. "Well, I'm not being funny, Ro, but this IS the forest floor.."
Roana punched the mattress, laughing. "But this isn't, A Dale. Now, shut up and get me some food before I change my mind about you."
Outside, the fire was still burning brightly. Robin was talking quietly to Edwin and Stewart, two of the men who Allan had recruited to help with the ambush. He crossed over to them, nodding a greeting as he filled a bowl with meat and bread.
"Allan," Robin said. "Join me for a while."
Allan nodded in acquiescence. "Let me take this to Ro and I'll be back."
Leaving Roana eagerly devouring the meat, he returned to the fire and took a seat beside Robin, who offered him a flagon of cider. Allan accepted it and took a healthy swallow.
"Is Roana alright?" Robin asked.
Allan handed the flagon back. "Hungry and tired. Her face looks better, no thanks to Bridlington."
Robin glanced at him, his eyes dancing with the light of the fire. "You want to kill him?"
"I'd quite like to inflict some serious pain," Allan answered, frankly. "Before killing him."
Robin nodded. "Understandable."
They both stared into the fire for a moment. The villagers had begun to disperse, leaving them alone. Allan cleared his throat, uncomfortably.
"Robin."
Robin gave the ghost of a smile. "You have something to ask me."
Allan looked at him. "I do, as it happens."
Robin grinned. "Would it have anything to do with my sister, by any chance?"
Allan had the grace to look bashful. "Well, umm, yeah, it does."
Robin shifted to make himself more comfortable, wincing a little as he placed pressure on his stitches. "Are you serious about her?"
Allan paused before answering, weighing up his options, before deciding to be completely honest. He suspected that Robin already knew anyway, and was simply testing the waters. "Yeah, I am serious about her. Is that alright with you?"
Robin laughed. "Is it alright with Roana?"
Allan nodded. "I'm pretty sure it is."
"Then it's alright with me," Robin said. "But how do you feel about her social status? As a noblewoman, there are certain expectations that she must fulfil."
"That's my worry, Robin." Allan spoke as earnestly as he probably ever had. "I love her, but I have nothing. I'm a nobody. Will I be enough for her in the long run?"
Robin looked mildly surprised at the honesty. "Allan, I've never known you to doubt yourself about anything. If Roana wants to be with you, then I don't think anything will stop her. You may have noticed that she has a stubborn streak a mile wide."
"Reminds me of someone," Allan remarked with a sideways glance at Robin, who laughed.
"Maybe so." He seemed happy to accept it. "Seriously, though, you need to speak to her about this. She'll put your mind at rest. She was never one to bother about social statuses as a child, and I don't think that has changed."
Allan fell quiet, stroking his beard, reflectively. "And what if, in the future, I wanted to, y'know, marry her and stuff?"
"Marriage?!" Robin was shocked and laughed out loud. "Allan, you're growing up!"
Allan shrugged. "Well, not right now. But, in the future maybe. I don't know. Just maybe."
Robin put a hand on his shoulder, still laughing. "I'm kidding, Allan. If that's what you both want - in the future, of course - then it's between the two of you. But," he continued. "It probably would be etiquette to ask her uncle for her hand."
Allan looked horrified. "What?"
Robin burst into laughter again, and Allan punched him lightly in his upper arm and got up. Robin pretended to wince.
"I'm going to bed." Allah said, decisively, then paused. "But thanks for the talk, Robin."
Robin nodded once with a smile. "Any time, Allan. And behave yourself in there with my sister."
"I can't promise anything, Robin," Allan grinned and waggled his eyebrows. Robin gave a gasp of mock indignation, and Allan held his hands up. "I'm kidding. Sleep is all I'll be doing."
It seemed that he had inadvertently told the truth without meaning to. Roana was fast asleep, curled up under a pile of animal pelts and fleeces, despite the warmth in the hut. Allan took his boots off and dragged his tunic over his head, throwing it onto the floor. He pulled back the heap of covers, and stilled. Roana was wearing only her tunic, and it had ridden up to expose her buttocks, her skin pale and perfect in the fading candlelight. She lay on her side facing away from him, her right hand under her head, and he suddenly had an incredible urge to run his hands all over her body and explore every inch of her. But she needed her sleep, and so did he.
Leaving his trousers on to preserve both of their dignities, he climbed under the covers and spooned her, tucking his arm around her waist and laying his hand flat on her bare stomach, willing it not to misbehave during the night. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to sleep with her half-naked and in his arms, but he drifted off straight away.