Chapter 1: Gwyn's New Life and Froderick's Offer

Gwyn was despondent as she galloped through the English countryside. She had to get as far away from Westminister Abbey and the palace as possible. Why was her home at such a distance? Yes, she knew Sherwood Forest was the safe haven of the Merry Men – the group she now co-commanded with her father, the famous Robin Hood. Still, she and her horse were exhausted. Her emotions did not help alleviate this much.

Gwyn was returning from Prince – no, King – Phillip's palace. The newly crowned ruler whose life she had helped protect from Prince John and the Sheriff of Nottingham had wished to speak to her. A letter had arrived a few days previously announcing this intent. There were no details, just that he requested "an audience with your Ladyship." In retrospect, Gwyn wondered why the vague wording of the document had not produced any suspicions in her. She trusted the King, so she had figured it was something important that he need not reiterate to her in person as well as in writing.

Once she had arrived in London and at the castle, King Phillip had greeted her warmly. He did not waste words and got right to the point. It was something that he had already told Gwyn just after his coronation, when they had parted on the assumption that they could not be together. That had been several months ago, and already King Phillip had grown resentful of this barrier. He was King, he said, why should he not have everything he desired? He was prepared to pursue what he wanted, and what he wanted was her, Gwyn, as his Queen. He did not care who he would have to run over to get what he wanted – the Church, the Courts. He just knew that he was prepared to do whatever it took.

Before Gwyn had had a chance to politely and respectfully decline the King's offer (though she was flattered and wished things could be different as well), the King had closed in and kissed her. At first, she was unsure what to do, but finally relented and returned the affections. It was all very innocent at first, but then the King had begun to escalate things…very quickly, too quickly for Gwyn's liking. She now began to do what she should have done from the beginning, if she had only had her wits about her and kept her usually strong resolve. Her resistance was not unnoticed by Phillip, but he too had a strong will. He knew what he wanted…and as King, he would get it. So, he had picked a slightly struggling Gwyn up, carried her to his master bedroom and continued kissing her in his bed. A battle of wills now turned into a battle of strength. Gwyn was strong, thanks to her bow training and her missions with her father. She put up a good fight, but the King was stronger. He managed to strip Gwyn of all her clothes, and began to perform sexual acts on her. Gwyn squirmed and twisted, but could not break free. She wished to cry out, but could not because of Phillip's relentless kisses. Eventually, the combined raping and her resistance tired her out and she became limp from sheer exhaustion. Phillip had won, and now continued to assault her body freely. He finally let her go once he had satisfied his urgings, but ordered Gwyn to keep the visit quiet, or there might be consequences. Gwyn had only nodded numbly; she was certain she was in shock. Only after she had spurred on her horse beyond the palace gates did she begin to emotionally break down.

At long last, the girl could now see the abbey and surrounding farm and compound that was her home in the distance. It was on the edge of Sherwood Forest. Not many people were even aware that the abode harbored many outlaws, but the forest served as a convenient escape route and hiding place in case of an attack. The welcome sight made Gwyn push her horse harder and she burst into the compound at a flying pace. She dismounted clumsily in front of the stable before the horse had even halted. The entire lower half of her body felt as though it was on fire, from both the long ride and the King's penetrations.

Stable hands took care of her horse as Gwyn slowly walked up to the monastery home. Inside, the friar brothers and other members of her Merry Men extended family were bustling about. Friar Tuck was the first to notice her.

"Ah, Gwyn, there you are, my girl!" he chortled. He gave her a hug, which Gwyn indulged. She was surprised at how she stiffened slightly at his touch. Friar Tuck noticed this, however, and quickly deduced that something was not right. He stepped back to get a better look at her.

"What troubles, girl?"

"None, Uncle" Gwyn hastily replied, but Tuck was not convinced. As if he could read her thoughts, he followed up with "Did everything go well with the King?"

The very mention of this was enough to make Gwyn come unglued; she collapsed into Tuck's arms, wailing. "No-oooo! He- he raped me!"

Tuck looked speechless, and it was only then did he realize the once busy kitchen was eerily quiet. All the other brothers were staring at the poor distraught girl hugging their leader.

"What are you all looking at?!" Tuck roared with an angry temper uncharacteristic of a servant of the Lord. "All of you, report to the Chapel for afternoon prayer immediately. Silent intentions until I get there!"

The brothers hustled out of the room as Tuck guided Gwyn upstairs, half-supporting her. He went along the hall, poking into room after room until finally he found who he was looking for.

"Robin!" he bellowed. "We have an emergency here!" Gwyn peeked out from among Tuck's robes to see her father and Will Scarlet turn to face the new arrivals. Robin's stoic gaze quickly melted to one of concern when he beheld the sight before him.

"Good heavens, Gwyn! Are you alright?" he asked. Gwyn shook her head. For some reason, she could not bear to again utter the words she had told Friar Tuck, so she was relieved when Tuck took it upon himself.

"The King raped her when she had her audience with him today." Robin looked stunned, but Will looked enraged. He ran to a table and seized his bow, declaring something about him and Robin marching on the palace themselves and getting themselves an audience with the King. Robin, however, held him back.

"No, Will. If we spoke up, Phillip could make us outlaws again and turn the Sheriff of Nottingham loose on us. We would be back to how we were living under Prince John. Power is on the King's side here. I am just as angry as you are, but I do not think we can do anything."

They were interrupted by Froderick, one of the prospective monks and Gwyn's childhood friend, who came in carrying a full pail.

"I finished milking the cows, Friar Tuck," he announced, but stopped short when he saw Gwyn's state. He rushed over to her as quick as he could without spilling the milk. "Gwyn, what's the matter?" Friar Tuck interrupted.

"Store the milk away first, Froderick, then you can return and we will tell you what is going on." Froderick, eager to learn what was ailing his best friend, did as he was told immediately. When he returned, he was quickly filled in. He was angry at the King's actions, and vowed to resign his commission on his Majesty's council in protest. Robin reiterated what he had told Will, and Gwyn quietly concurred.

"I will not let you give up your future and earned success for my sake, Froderick," she declared. Froderick glanced at her and looked as though he wanted to say something, but kept silent.

Tuck soon stole away to supervise the brothers in afternoon prayer, though he allowed Froderick to miss the service so he could help Gwyn. Maids helped Gwyn change out of her clothes, but forebade her from bathing given what had happened to her. Once she was changed, Robin, Will and Froderick helped the girl to bed. As she fell asleep, Gwyn wondered if her life would ever be the same again.

Gwyn's question was answered for her sooner than she expected. About 6 weeks after the raping, she discovered that she was pregnant with Phillip's child. Everyone was in awe that the heir to the throne of England was in their presence, even if he (or she) was not born yet.

Gwyn created a new routine for herself. She kept herself as busy as possible, doing many chores for as long as she could during her pregnancy. She would eventually have to go on to bed-rest, but she did not want to think about that just yet. Froderick helped her immensely and was almost always at her side except in sleep. Gwyn was grateful for his company, as ever, and he comforted her when she lamented over her diminishing physical mobility.

One day in the third month of her pregnancy, Gwyn rose to feed the animals in the barn. Her biggest chore was to milk the cow. Froderick was up at the same time. Already, it was getting somewhat harder for her to move about, so Froderick supported her as they trekked out to the stable. He guided the cow out front and set up the stool before helping Gwyn onto it. She smiled at him gratefully. As she began to milk, Froderick leaned up against the barn wall, opened up his copy of the King James Bible and began to read. He was reading the Holy Book in multiple languages – Latin, Spanish, French, among others – so as to better serve the King when he carried out his commission in foreign lands. Occasionally, he would quiz Gwyn on the languages and their various conjugations – a task that she always tried her best in, but could apply herself more to. Today was no exception.

"Vais, vas, va, allons…" she began, stumped.

"Allez, vont," Froderick finished for her. He sighed, slightly amused. "How can I tutor you if you don't study?"

"You're the future missionary, Froderick. French serves you, not me," Gwyn retorted. "The only thing that will serve me is housekeeping so I can better raise my child." She was slightly annoyed and frightened of the task before her.

Froderick gave a small smile. "Back to French before you sour her milk." Gwyn gasped in mock indignation and twisted the cow's utter around, sending a spray of milk into Froderick's face. She giggled at his reaction.

"Sweet enough, brother Froderick?" she teased. In response, Froderick tried the one tactic he knew would get her. Gwyn saw it coming and tried to stop him, to no avail.

"No! No- no! Oh no!" she cried and laughed, as Froderick grabbed her and the two tripped and rolled down the slight embankment, laughing. They ended up with Gwyn on top of Froderick. Breathing heavily, Gwyn was not concentrating. So, she was surprised when Froderick suddenly closed the gaps and kissed her full on the mouth. She gasped in surprise before Froderick's lips solidified their hold on her. His arms encircled her lovingly. His hands drifted lazily down her back and sides until they rested on her dress right on her butt.

"Mmmmmm…No….no…." Gwyn gasped into Froderick's mouth. She was reminded of her interaction with King Phillip, and started to have a panic attack. But then, Froderick, squeezed that area of her body. He held her gently, and his mouth danced across hers. Slowly but surely (though oddly), Gwyn found herself staring to relax. This was Froderick; he would never hurt her. All at once, Froderick's tongue flicked out, demanding entrance. Gwyn was so taken aback, that she consented immediately and his tongue squirmed inside of her maw. Froderick deepened the kiss and Gwyn even began to kiss him back. Just when she was beginning to get used to the feel of him, they broke apart.

Gwyn was stunned. A part of her wanted to punch her friend, but another part of her was just begging for him to kiss her again. She brought herself back to Earth as Froderick began to speak.

"I've been thinking," he said. "That child of yours is going to need a father. And…I am in love with you, Gwyn. I have been for a long time. I would be willing to marry you, if you'll have me. I could still do my commission, but I would not pursue the priesthood. I could earn the title of Deacon and still be with you and take care of the baby. What would you say to that?"

Gwyn wanted to cry. Froderick was willing to alter his entire future just for her. She was so grateful to him for what he had done for her. Right now, her feelings for him were unsure, but maybe she could learn to love him as a husband and not just a surrogate brother in time. She would give herself to him, a nice and decent man who would take care of her and her child. She gave him a peck on the lips.

"Yes," she whispered, before Froderick pulled her flush against him and engaged her lips once more.

A week later, Gwyn was adjusting the saddlebags on her horse. Her father had agreed to let her accompany him on one last mission before she would be confined to the compound for the next 6 months. Froderick was also leaving to fulfill his commission in Spain. The horses were guided out to the front gate. Froderick was chatting with Friar Tuck.

"So, Mr. Deacon-to-be," Gwyn asked. "When am I going to see you again?"

"Probably not for a couple months," Froderick replied.

Gwyn smiled. "Then I'll never need to live this down." Before Froderick realized what was happening, she had grabbed him around the waist, pulled her to him and gave him a big kiss. It was the first one between them that she had initiated. Froderick got over his surprise and returned the affection. They broke apart and he bid her good-bye. Robin had a small smile on his face. Everyone mounted and took off in opposite directions: Robin, Gwyn and the Merry Men one way, and Froderick in the other. The first party had barely gone a mile when they heard hooves behind them and a voice calling out "Wait!"

Gwyn slowed her horse and turned. Froderick was galloping full throttle toward her. He stopped in front of her, grabbed her face and gave her a giant kiss of his own. Then, he turned and galloped back the way he had come, shouting "I love you!" as he went. Gwyn smiled. For the first time in awhile, she felt things were going to turn out fine.

The mission did not take long, and the Merry Men had returned within the month. 3 months after that, Froderick returned from Spain a full-fledged Deacon. Gwyn was overjoyed to see her fiancé again and he told her all about his time there. He had had to deliver a report to the King, but he had gone about it as though nothing was wrong, as hard as that was for him. Interestingly, the King had not asked about Gwyn at all. At 6 months pregnant, this news left Gwyn angrier than she probably would have been otherwise; mood swings were beginning to kick in.

At 7 months pregnant, Gwyn and Froderick were married in a quiet ceremony in the monastery of Sherwood Compound and Farm. The bride looked beautiful and Froderick was almost bursting with pride. Friar Tuck officiated, and Robin seemed happy to be giving his daughter away to a man whom he trusted. The kiss was magical. Gwyn and Froderick spent their honeymoon in nearby Canterbury, but Gwyn felt she was of no help to her husband because she was now on bed-rest. She and Froderick did not have intercourse, because the rape was still fresh in Gwyn's mind. Also, Froderick was afraid he might hurt the baby for some reason, which Gwyn thought was cute.

At long last, 9 months was reached, and a healthy baby boy was born. Gwyn had thought long and hard on a name that would be appropriate for the great Robin Hood's grandson. "Conrad," she said at last. Froderick snapped his head up and frowned. He knew why she had picked that name, and it probably served as half of a reminder, half not. Conrad had been the name of King Phillip's valet, who had been murdered while protecting his master as they traveled to claim the throne of England. It was also the name Phillip had gone by to hide his identity; the name Gwyn and Froderick had known him as for a short time. Still, Froderick wanted to respect his wife's decision and knew he wanted to be the best father possible to this baby, even if it was not his biologically. But that was something the couple would keep to themselves. Right now, a family was created and complete.

That same night, the Sheriff of Nottingham paced in his quarters. A rider had given him the news weeks ago, but he wanted to have information as soon as it became available. Suddenly, he heard movement downstairs and approached the balcony.

"What?!" he demanded. A messenger, newly arrived, looked up.

"You gave me orders to inform you the moment the child was born, my Lord," the messenger said. The Sheriff came down the stairs and looked through some scrolls. "Shall I order a price on the infant's head my Lord?"

"Equal to the prices set on his grandfather and mother" the Sheriff snarled. He turned back to face them. "Robin Hood shall not have a grandson, to plague Nottingham with his legacy."

"Very well, my Lord," the messenger sighed. "That will be 10,000 pounds then on the head of the infant…Conrad of Locksley."