Summery: two weeks have passed since Robin's 'experience' in Nottingham and her world is showing no signs of slowing down or calming down in anyway as she tries to come to terms with what happened in Nottingham, deals with her slave driver ex boyfriend who refuses to leave her alone and has the power to reduce her life to crap, tries to figure out just exactly what the Rebellion is, finds herself getting used to College and goes about her job of giving money to the poor. As if all that wasn't enough for her to be dealing with Robin soon finds out that although the most exciting and crazy summer of her life is coming to an end, the autumn seems set to be just as extreme. At least she has her new boyfriend and son of her enemy George Baxter to help her get through all this, that is if she can stop afore mentioned ex-boyfriend from telling George's father, the evil businessman Robert Baxter, who George really is. Will she give in the Adam's blackmail or can see find another way out of this?
Author note: Okay, I'm beyond sorry, this is being posted a lot later than I would have liked, I'm going the throw you the over used (but completely honest) excuse that I am current swamped with homework and coursework, I knew that my second year of A levels would be harder than the first but I had no idea how much so. So hear it is, short but sweet (I hope) to kick off my fourth Robin Hood story :)
Robin Hood: Giving in
Chapter one
I was standing alone in a field; the earth is soft and muddy beneath my boots and brown dirt spots cover them from my trek over here in the poor weather. It is raining, just as I predicted it would, red sky at night Sheppard's delight, red sky in morning Sheppard's warning, isn't that how the old nursery rhyme went? The heavy droplets of rain hit me hard, each one hammering my skin with the force of a small stone and sped up by the howling wind that raged around me, lifting my long brown hair from where it rested about halfway down my back and whipping it around my face. I was drenched and shivering, there wasn't a patch of skin or cloth upon me that wasn't soaked through by the rain as it fell rapidly from the heavens, I didn't care though, there were other more important things on my mind.
Instinctively I turned my head to the right; the wind blew my hair back off my face, giving me my first proper look at my surroundings since I had arrived. I could see the forest ahead of me now, its enormous trees flashing a white border as a bolt of lightening streaked across the dark sky behind them, there was a crashing sound and the noise of a tree as it fell, somewhere in the back of my mind I felt myself hope that it wasn't one particular tree, that it would be safe. My gaze fell upon them then, the large group before the start of the forest and then, as though someone had popped the bubble that had mercifully surrounded me until now, the sounds of the battle that commenced there reached me, carried on the vicious wind that still billowed around me. The metallic ring of swords as they clashed; the twang of bows and the cries of war sounded alien to me, wrong as they reached my modern ears, as though I shouldn't be here to listen to them. I found that I had no time to dwell on this strange sensation though as my eyes pinpointed those I hadn't know I was searching for until this moment. They were all there; everyone I had ever cared about in any way was fighting the opposing army, united in purpose and by the looks of determination each and every one of them wore.
It hurt me though, to see them all in danger like that, especially since I was standing over here safe when it was my responsibility to be a part of this, to fight along side them. Dazed I started to walk forward, my legs feeling like led weights with each slow and disorientated step I took, I wasn't used to feeling disorientated, I was usually so in control of everything, I looked up at the fighters from underneath my sopping fringe, clearly not everything. I staggered through the grass towards them, eyes trained upon each of my dear friends, not even the heavy rain which still fell in constant streams could take my gaze away from them, the four of them consumed my thoughts. Screams of pain and cries of attack continued to drift towards me, I was still a great distance away from my friends and moving as fast as I could, whimpering each time one of them had a near fatal blow delivered to them. Just when I thought that I could take no more I spotted Joey, my nineteen year old cousin blocking an attack intended for my dad who was too busy leaping in front of my mum to pay attention to his own battles, my heart dropped as I saw them all. My family was here fighting as well, every one of them minus my little sister Alice. I started to search the crowds of fighters then, all of the people who were serving our cause, and spotted so many familiar faces that it was a wonder I didn't collapse on the floor under the weight of my own fear and guilt. Alongside my close friends and family where people that I had known for a long time now, Joe, Jess and Josh, as well as recently made friends such as Eloise and Susanna. I could not handle the thought of one of Baxter's men harming any one of these people so I picked up the pace, ignoring how my body complained and fought me all the way, as though it knew something I didn't. I was almost there and still undetected when my gaze fell upon the familiar heart wrenching sight; a blond haired, blue eyed male in red was locked in what appeared to be mortal combat with a dark haired, darkly dressed man of the same age. No. That one word was all that would form in my mind as I watched the two warring youths, fighting a battle of their own that was separate from the cause of the others. Not again, I thought as I picked up speed, running now through the tall grass towards them both, I would not let this happen again. My sigh of relief was audible as the blond knocked the dark haired boy to the floor with the swing of an elbow, the medieval weapon he had held forgotten completely in his hate for the man before him. As the source of a good deal of my misery clutched his bleeding nose with both hands the blond angel turned and spotted me running towards him.
"Robin," he called out, blood was trickling lightly from the cut on his forehead and his already bruised face was a little more beaten but other than that he was fine.
I opened my mouth to shout for him to move but all that came out was a scream as the very thing I had been dreading, happened. He appeared behind him so quickly that he might have been invisible before now, he had moved towards him with all the presence and bluntness of a ghost, unseen until now. The sneak raised his blade high and the dark haired man, who still clutched his nose, smiled a cruel smile. My eyes went wide and I sucked in a breath, he didn't have a clue, he didn't know the danger he was in, I couldn't warn him in time, I had barely opened my mouth again before the sword fell.
"No!" I screamed it was a pained heartbroken sound that echoed across the battle field and drowned out everything else.
And then I woke up.
Hudson Farm
My eyes flew open suddenly as the end of my scream left my lips, my breathing was heavy and I realised that I was covered from head to toe in cold sweat, I was shivering now just like I had been in my dream. Slowly I sat up, pulling my shoulder length brown hair out of my face as I did so and waited to see if anyone had heard my cry. I sat there for a moment, listening to the ticking sound of my clock as the second hand completed one turn; I waited until I was sure that no one had heard me before I relaxed and let myself start to calm down. The night before George had heard me scream and rushed in thinking that someone was breaking in through my window, as though he thought I couldn't handle that, I mean come on who am I? Its not that I didn't appreciate my boyfriends effort though, because I did, its just that if anyone in this house could look after themselves in the event of a break in it was me, and him as well I suppose, considering our less than average hobby of stealing from the rich and giving to the poor and the dangers that involved.
Images flashed before my eyes as I gasped for breath in the dark small space of my bedroom, a flash of lightning, a man in a crown on horseback, rain pouring from the sky, the sun shining bright above me, my loved ones charging into battle, blue eyes as the sparkle left them. I shook myself; refusing to fall into a misery brought on by memories of something I put all my energy into forgetting. It wasn't even as if my dream was the only thing plaguing me, the whole experience refused to leave me alone and between that an other pain in the ass things (or rather people, or even just a person) it was a wonder I didn't crack.
I sighed as my heart rate slowed and I thought about the past couple of weeks and how George's moving in with us had made my transition back into every day life so much easier. It had been nice having him around, especially since I didn't have to worry about him getting caught while snooping around his dad's house anymore, it put my mind at rest to be so close to him and I think it was the same for him too. Heaven knew I got into enough trouble. Running a hand through my dampened hair I felt my breathing start to slow to a more normal rate, I felt my gaze flick to the clock on my bedroom wall even though I needn't have bothered, I knew what time it would read. Five fifteen, give or take since I hadn't looked at the clock instantly upon waking up, though that said I knew from past experience that it would have been exactly five fifteen when I had woken up. How did I know that? Well that was simple; I knew that because I had woken up at exactly five fifteen from that very same dream every night since I had come home from the hospital. Ever since that dream I had had about Baxter and the scientists, the only thing I ever seemed dream about was Marin's death in the past. I stifled a shudder at the memory, it hadn't happened exactly like that in my dream but it was close enough for it to bother me. I can't imagine it's all that hard for you to figure out why either, I mean come on, would you enjoying seeing the man you love (the past embodiment of him anyway) die in your dreams every night? I can hardly think that you would.
I sat up an readjusted my bed covers, which had been thrown about my bed during my dream, and tried to push aside the memories, both of the recurring dream and first time I had witnessed it (I was hardly going to say when I went back in time and saw it, that was just crazy) as they threatened to force their way into my mind. This had become a routine by now, I had come to expect nothing else when I went to sleep on a night and I can tell you now that it was one major pain in the ass having to go through this every night. On top of all my other crap as well. The pipes of the silent house groaned in the walls as I moved my pillow back into place with still shaking hands. At least no one had heard me this time, I thought as I tucked a damp strand of hair behind my ear, if I kept this sort of thing up I'd end up in a mental hospital for sure. Maybe you belong there; I told myself cynically and thought about how only weeks ago I had actually believed that I had travelled back in time to King Richard's England. I pushed the negative thought aside and told myself that it was just the stress of the whole Robin Hood thing and the hit on the head getting to me. I wasn't crazy. That was also why the dreams were bothering me so much, not only did the repeatedly show George, or 'Marin' as I would have called him in my delusional state, repeatedly die before my eyes. It also reminded me of what had happened only a few short weeks ago and how confused I was about it. I didn't like being confused, it unnerved me and made me feel useless, I had to be sure of everything I did or everything that was happening or else I wasn't happy. And right now, I wasn't happy.
Suddenly I could hear the sound of tries crunching on gravel through my open window. I turned towards my heavy white curtains, barely moving in the late night breeze, and I felt myself frown, who was coming down the lane at this time? Swiftly I pulled back my covers and stepped onto the floor, the carpet cold and cool beneath my bare feet. My first thought as I crossed my bedroom was, Adam. It wasn't enough for the thoughtless prat that he pestered me near as damm it every night of the week before I went to bed and that I was practically his slave, he was going to bother me in the early hours of the morning as well. I was sure his shirt or whatever, could wait until morning to be ironed, I was so not in the mood for Adams games tonight and I'd throw the pretentious slave driver right back out the window if he so much as suggested that I pair up his socks or whatever stupid job he had for me. I was by my window, holding my empty bow tightly in my hand just in case Adam tried anything, the creep had been getting more an more forward about his 'requests' over the past few weeks and I wasn't willing to sink to that low. Cautiously so as not to be seen, I pressed my back against the wall and moved the side of the curtains slightly so that I could peer out I could see, just beyond my parents car which was painted a midnight blue by the late hour and waiting in the driveway, and up the lane. A unfamiliar black car pulled into the yard in front of our house, I was only sure of its colour as I passed under the lone streetlight my granddad had put up years ago at the bottom of the lane, the light reflecting against its tinted windows. That wasn't Adams dad's car, I was sure of it, Adam might work for both Jacobs and Baxter now but he was not well enough paid, or old enough, to buy himself a car. Not that this car was anything special, it was an understated car, simple and purposeful and probably none too expensive. Still, I knew that this wasn't Adam. Quietly the car drove out from under the streetlight and moved into the shadows, where it turned around before coming to a stop just outside the beam of light. The two back doors and the passenger side door were thrown open, and I watched as three figures, one small, two tall, exited the car which promptly sped off back up the lane.
Instantly my mind shifted into Robin Hood mode, this wasn't good, only one word would form in my mind now and the very thought of it had my frown deepening and my back teeth grinding. Baxter. This was it, Baxter's goons were here, they were finally seeking their revenge for the embarrassment both they and their employers had suffered here whist trying to KILL my family. I had thought that Baxter wouldn't let my family get away with that, it wasn't the kind of thing Baxter took lightly, but I'd be dammed if I let them just drive down here and try and hurt my family again. I was just about to see if I could quickly turn on the TV in my room and get up the special channel Mark had sorted out for me that showed me what was going on outside the house via the CCTV cameras we had set up out there, without waking up the rest of the house and putting them all in danger, when I heard a sound. My hand froze above my draw handle, where I had been reaching to pull out my mask; I could here the sound of footsteps on the front porch and the jangle of keys. I moved my hand away from the draw and drew myself back up to full height, a confused frown fixed in place on my face. Quickly and instinctively, since I no longer believed any of us were in any actual danger, I stepped towards my bedroom door just as the sound of a key being slid into the lock on the front door echoed throughout the house. I pulled my door open ever so slightly and pressed my eye against the gap, I peered across the landing, able to see the front door just as it was unlocked and slowly opened. Baxter's goons or a burglar would not have a key to the house. The three figures appeared in the doorway, the bright light of the streetlamp casting a yellow glow around the trio as they stepped into the house so I couldn't make out their faces. My grip tightened around the bow in my hand but other than that I did nothing; my keen senses were telling me that they were no threat.
Not one of the made a sound as they closed the door and headed towards the stairs, removing their shoes before taking to the rickety, creaking steps. No one spoke as they ascended; they only flinched as the old wood groaned under their combined weight. I waited, breathing quietly and gripping the door handle, until they reached the landing. They slit up then, one of the taller ones took the hand of the small one who appeared to be a woman and nodded their silent goodbye before turning and heading towards my room. I didn't move, it was too dark for them to spot me and I doubted I could have moved even if I had wanted to, as when the couple turned to my right outside my bedroom door and headed towards my parents room they stepped into the beam of light that streamed through the landing window because of the streetlight. I stifled a gasp, even though I had known who it would be, it shocked me to have my suspicions confirmed. They walked past my room and almost soundlessly slipped into my parent's room, I then turned my attention back to the third tall figure, who was standing at the other end of the landing, just a little in front of what was currently George's bedroom door. The figure reached up with a long wooden pole and pulled down the ladders that led to the attic bedroom where Alice usually slept, though Joey was using the room now while George was staying here. The figure straitened up the ladders, put the pole back in its place and began to climb up, half inside the attic room the figure flicked on the light before its jeans-clad legs disappeared into the attic as well. I waited until the light was switched off, the trapdoor was closed and the footsteps stopped above me before I closed my bedroom door. Frowning still, though now in confusion, I placed my bow back in its hiding place of the back of my wardrobe and climbed into bed, pondering the strange events I had just witnessed. What had my parents and Joey been doing out until quarter past five in the morning? I was sure that wasn't normal behaviour for them, I had been up late enough and had returned home early enough in the morning to know that they didn't usually sneak out like this, because that's what they had done, sneaked out. No one had told me that they would be going out tonight and I was willing to bet that the same could be said for George. What were they up to so early in the morning that they couldn't tell us? I wondered as I lay back in my pillows on that early Saturday morning and tried to get a few more hours sleep, all possible prophetic dreams forgotten, at least for that night.
Author note: hum, kinda unsure about this, it's short and sweet (In theory) and is my opening chapter but I don't know. What do you think, does it have you hankering for more or wondering absentmindedly what I was even thinking when I posted this? Let me know please I'm kinda nervous. Much love :) x