AN: Virgin fanfic so please go easy. I love constructive criticism as it helps me figure out what people like and don't like as well as what is working and what isn't. Flames and negativity however, will be ignored as they waste my time and the time of the reviewers.
Disclaimers: Anything you recognize, I don't own…although believe me, I would love nothing more. Also, I make no money from this, it is purely for my own enjoyment and love of the characters. No copyright infringement or harm meant.
Spoilers: None, except that this takes place before Allan was Guy's man so an indeterminate part of season two as everyone is still alive and Allan hasn't betrayed anyone yet.
I looked silently at the five men and one woman in front of me, no one saying a word. The tall young man standing in front glared angrily at Marian, still on her mount atop the horse before speaking.
"What's going on Marian?" he asked, clearly not happy.
I suddenly felt intensely uncomfortable but when I looked up, I noticed a pair of bright green eyes staring intently at my face, a mix of compassion and suspicion in his eyes.
"This is Heather. She was being held in the castle dungeons under orders that she was to hang at daybreak," Marian said with a sigh as she dismounted the horse.
"We aren't babysitters….well, the majority of us aren't," one of the other young men said, looking over at someone and sniggering.
I only caught this part of the conversation with the lesser part of my concentration. The majority of it was focused on what he had said.
" I can take care of myself. I don't need to be babysat, as you so eloquently put it," I said indignantly.
"Oh, she's feisty, that one," the young man said with a smirk.
"How dare you…" I said angrily, stepping towards him as his grin widened and a large man stepped forward to block my path.
"Allan, stop antagonizing this young woman," the young man who had glared at Marian and who was clearly the leader of this group said with a smile of sympathy.
"My name is Heather," I snapped indignantly.
"Alright Heather…why don't you start by telling us why the sheriff wanted you to hang," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking at me expectantly.
"I was arrested for stealing bread…well, flour for bread," I said, looking at him defiantly.
I crossed my arms in front of my chest and heard several gasps of surprise. However, the majority of my attention was focused on the amusement on the young man's face at what I had said.
"She's hurt Robin," the young woman said softly before stepping around the bodygaurd and toward me determinedly.
She unfolded my arms and flipped my left arm over to examine my wrist, where I had hastily cut a piece of fabric from my skirt and fashioned a bandage of sorts. She began unwrapping the poorly made bandage and I heard a new set of soft gasps, including my own. In the poorly lit dungeon, I hadn't been able to see very well but now that I could see properly, I saw the gash that ran the entire circuit of my wrist from where the rope had burned and cut into my skin. I shuddered at the memories that unwillingly resurfaced of the torture I had endured just hours earlier.
"Her we help," the man acting as bodyguard finally said softly. Both the young woman, who still had a hold of my arm, and the young man with the green eyes nodded their agreement.
"This is badly infected. Come, I have some things at our camp to treat a wound of this nature. You have come in time," the young woman said, letting go of my arm and looking at my face.
"Oi….is that really a good idea? I mean, we don't know anything about her. What if she's a spy for the sheriff and Gisbourne?" the cocky young man asked.
"Allan, we help the poor, which she is and I trust that Marian would not bring a spy to us," the young woman said with a look of respect on her face as she looked at Marian.
I saw a similar look from Marian before she looked away. "I have to get back before I'm discovered missing but I will try and come back in a few days time," Marian said as she turned and mounted her horse once again.
Without listening to the rest of the conversation, I turned back toward the young woman, who was still looking at me. I wasn't sure what she was looking for in my face but I sincerely hoped it wasn't fear she found there before she turned and silently headed in the direction of what I hoped wasn't a trap. The other two followed close behind her, the young man with the green eyes nodding silently for me to follow, which I did reluctantly.
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