A/N Unfortunately I don't own any of this, except maybe the dog... and even then I may have a few problems proving legal ownership. But on with the Story.
Chapter 1 – Beginnings
Allan shivered and pulled his cloak closer around him as the rain pounded down around him. It thudded into the leaf litter like a drumbeat, constant, real, grounding. Allan needed grounding; his thoughts kept wandering back unbidden to that fateful night when Robin had discovered his traitorous behaviour. He had pleaded with Robin. Tried to make him understand how it had come to this. But no, Robin in his piety could never understand the inner workings of a conman like himself.
He'd wondered since what had made him risk one of the few things that had turned out good in his life so far. It had been the money, he'd decided, the security of having something to fall back on. How did they know that King Richard would even come back from the Holy Land? What if he got sick? Or got an infection from a wound? The King could die, he was just as human as the rest of England, and then Allan would be stuck in the woods forever, with no chance of a pardon or a better life. Sure, he was fighting for the country – bringing hope to the people – but ever since he was little, he'd only known how to look out for himself and habits are hard to break.
What would he be doing now, if he hadn't thrown his life away? 'Just what you are now, but you would have friends with you.' A nasty little voice in the back of his head said, 'But now you have nothing, they've all given you up for a traitor, even Will.'
Allan winced as memories of Will surfaced, he'd been his best friend, brothers in arms they were, had been. After he lost Tom, Will had been there for him, showing him that he hadn't lost one brother. He didn't know when it had happened, when Allan's love for his friend had become something deeper, something confusing and new. Because Allan loved Will; and not in the way he should love a brother.
It went against everything he'd been brought up believing, but he didn't think it was wrong. How could the tingles he felt whenever Will looked at him be wrong? How could loving those warm brown eyes, beautiful smile and talented hands be wrong?
Nevertheless, Allan sighed because although he realised that nothing about loving Will was wrong, not everyone would see it that way. This was why he was always leering at pretty girls and lying about his nighttime escapades in town, because all he ever did really was drink and wallow and think of Will. This was why he pretended to be looking at Djaq out of the corner of his eye, because he wasn't watching her, he was watching Will's hands as they carved out new wonders.
'They're better off without you.' That voice again, taunting him, as he lay huddled beneath a tree, the only shelter he'd been able to find from the torrential rain.
"I'm always in the shade," he murmured against his cold fingers, "Never in the sun."
Will shifted around on his bunk as he listened to the rain as it fell upon the roof of the gang's hideout. His mind kept repeating the events of the last few days over and over again; the revelation that there was a traitor in their midst, Robin's discovery that it was Allan, Allan being banished from the gang, finding Allan trying to steal from them and him begging to be let back into the group.
Although Allan had tried to explain his actions but no one had listened, he'd appealed to each of them by name but still they'd cursed him a traitor and chased him off. He could remember the look of desperation and loss in Allan's eyes as he'd turned to Will and said, "Will, please..."
Will turned over so that he was facing the wall and began to drift off to sleep, his thoughts reverberating with Allan's pleas for forgiveness.
It was still cold when Allan woke up, but the rain clouds had disappeared leaving the sun able to warm the world. His stomach was growling loudly and Allan sighed knowing there was nothing much he could do to fix that. All he had was his dagger, the rest of his belongings were still with the gang. Allan stood up and leant against the tree that he'd been using for shelter the past few nights. He was still soaking wet and freezing cold and was starting to wish he'd thought of protecting some firewood from the rain.
He wondered what the others were doing back at the camp. 'Probably celebrating the removal of a traitor from their midst.' He thought, wishing that the thought could be dismissed as false. 'They're probably sitting warm and comfortable, wishing that they'd killed me already.' He shook his head trying to stop thoughts of the gang from entering his mind, since thoughts of that kind often lead to thoughts of Will.
A rustle from the bushes to his left startled Allan out of his thoughts and he drew his dagger. He stepped quietly towards the noise, which was getting louder. He heard a snuffling and then a slim grey muzzle poked out of the bush, followed by a set of large brown eyes and grey ears that were twitching every which way. Allan laughed.
"C'mere doggy, come on." He crouched down and clicked his fingers, but the animal only growled, "Okay, not doggy, wolf maybe?" The dog lowered its head and stared at him, still growling. Allan began to back off slowly, "Nice dog. Good dog."
The wolf followed Allan, step for step, their eyes were focused on one another's. He was starting to get worried, because in the end, all he had was a dagger and the dog had a mouth of sharp teeth and claws. Then Allan noticed something strange about the way the dog was walking, it was, really, limping. It was favouring its right front paw, never letting it touch the ground for too long. Throwing caution to the wind Allan shuffled forward, making soothing noises.
"Come on dog, let me have a look at that paw," he carefully reached out towards the dog. He was surprised, and quite relieved when the dog glanced away and whined, lifting its paw and extending it towards him. He reached out to take it and immediately felt the prick of a thorn.
"Looks like you've got yourself a thorn there." He proceeded to extract the thorn carefully, all the while trying to avoid noticing the large claws that were only a hairs breadth away from his hand. "There you go." Allan quickly backed away so as to be out of range of the dog's paws. "Well go on, off you go dog. I'm sure you have a master somewhere looking for you." The dog just lay down and began to lick its paw, paying no attention to him.
Allan stood up again and began to walk through the trees, glancing from side to side in the hopes of finding something he could eat. He briefly glanced behind him and was surprised to see the dog following him.
