Apologies for the delay; between work and a minor writer's block I had a bit of a tough time with this chapter. Many thanks goes out to Kegel for her help and encouragement with this, as well as a beta.



Chapter Three: Lost

He had calmed down some. Maybe not entirely, but at least it didn't feel as though his heart was about to pounce from his chest anymore. And he could properly breathe once again. That was another good thing. He had also avoided being trampled. Yet another good thing…a very good thing.

The hand that was on his chin left, moving back down to his ankle, touching the purpling flesh lightly. Much let out a hiss at the contact, pulling away. Dax's only response was to stand, shaking his head. There was a scowl on his face, deep lines creasing his flesh as he turned to the other man that stood near their side.

"How many times have I told you we needed those shackles?"

"You're blaming this on me?" Eloy asked incredulously. The man had said little to nothing since the pair had caught up with him. Dax had stayed with Much while Eloy had ridden after the retreating horse, returning with the calmed creature only moments later.

"You were confident that we did not need any, despite the fact that I urged you otherwise."

"I did not think he would run."

"Of course he would," Dax returned angrily. "What did you except? Did you think that he was going to be a good little prisoner and not try anything?"

Eloy still had a scowl on his face, hoisting himself into his saddle. "Whatever the case, we need to be moving. Surely that racket's garnered some sort of attention by now, and I don't want to be around when company comes."

"You could just let me go," Much offered. "This would solve many of your problems."

It was worth a shot, but even he knew it was a failed attempt as Dax pulled him to his feet. His hands were still bound with the same rope as before, the end trailing on the ground under his feet. Pulling a knife free, Dax cut the end loose, returning his hold back to his arm. It was well needed, because Much could not walk without pain. His ankle had taken the brunt of the fall, and though he doubted it was broken, it certainly was not in the best of shape.

"I would be one to agree, he can't even walk," Eloy snorted, watching the pair. "We're never going to get anywhere at this rate. We'd not only run out of supplies, but we'll be found out. Then who will be swinging in the gallows? Hmm?"

"He's not walking," Dax responded. He had helped Much back to the horse, the white stallion he had tried to take earlier that night.

"You can't be serious," the other man laughed. "That's how he nearly got away last time. Now you're putting him up there again?"

Much was wondering the same, hardly protesting as he was forced into the saddle. Being atop of the horse was already a head start. All he would need to do was ride away once given the chance. But those hopes were soon dashed, a new rope appearing that secured his bound hands to the horn of the saddle. His legs too followed in similar fashion, being secured to the stirrups. With the reigns pulled over the horses' head so they hung free, there would be no way for Much to guide the horse if he did manage to get away.

"So that's it," Eloy pressed again when Dax failed to answer. "He gets to ride…and you're going to walk."

"I don't see any other option," the man finally argued, grabbing the reigns as he started down the road. "We need to be there by the end of the week, so I suggest we start moving."

The end of the week? Much took a glance behind him as they started to move, glimpsing the trees that could still be seen clustered in the distance. They were already a full day away from camp, and wherever they were going would bring him even further away. What would happen to him then? What would happen to the others?

"Please," he turned back around, glancing at the man who led the horse. "Please, you must let me go. There's something I must do. My friends…they may be in trouble."

"Then that trouble is their own."

"You don't understand," he pleaded, "it is because of me they would be in trouble. They'll come looking for me."

"Trust me, they'll forget about you."

It was a passing phrase, something that was said without malevolence or mockery, but it still stung.

"That's not true."

"It happens," Dax's voice was stern. "I've seen it enough times to know better. People worry at first, but soon they forget. Too many other things to worry over. That's why my brother and I have been able to do this for so long."

"Your brother?"

He glanced from one to the other, Eloy well enough ahead, his steed moving at a fast trot. Dax could not keep up with the same demanding pace, holding steady at a slow gait, allowing the gap between them to widen. "By birth, not by choice. Eloy has his moments, but he can be a good man."

"Funny, somehow I think we do not mean the same when we say good," Much muttered under his breath. "First you kidnap a boy. Not good. Then you kidnap me. Also not good. You've tied me up, and now you plan to sell me to someone. No good there either."

"Not just anyone," Dax corrected him, ignoring the last comment. "His name is Alfred…he's a good man."

"Your good or my good?" Much wondered, causing the other man to laugh.

"He's patient, and fair. He'll give you a place to live, and make sure that you are fed. All you have to do is work in return. You help him and he helps you."

"I already have a place to live. And I can feed myself. You see, all my problems are solved. You can let me go now."

"Sorry friend, it does not work like that."

"I am not your friend," Much stressed, shifting as much as he could in the saddle. "Friends do not tie one another up."

"It will be a long enough ride; try to not cause more trouble than needed," Dax told him, patting the horse's flank gently. "Skye's nervous in strange surroundings, but he'll calm when we get closer to home."

Home? Much found himself swallowing, knowing that wherever they were going was no home of his. "Where are we going?"

There was no response, bringing him worry that he would never find out. At least until they arrived; surely he would know then, but what good would that do anyone?

"It is only fair that you tell me," Much continued, "since I obviously have no choice in the matter. I would tell you where I would be taking you if I was taking you anywhere."

"This is your logic?" Dax wondered.

He nodded, giving a little shrug at the same time as the man looked back at him. "It makes sense, wouldn't you agree?"

"You really want to know then?"

"Better than sitting here brooding about it for days, don't you think?"

The other man let out a grin, turning back to face the front as he led them further along the road. "It is not a very big place; a quiet, small shire that's settled amongst the bigger ones. There's a forest there, a river that runs nearby. We'll need to take this road south for a while, then head to our west. Alfred owns the lands near the village of Sherwell; that is where you'll be working."

"Sounds lovely," Much answered dryly. A place just like the one they were leaving now. It would be easier if they just stayed here. But the two would not listen; they hadn't done so before, why would they now? He let out a sigh, shifting in the saddle. He could not even properly support himself since being restrained in such a manner. He was going to be very sore by the time they stopped…

"You'll grow used to it," Dax encouraged him, "everyone does."

"Somehow I have a hard time believing you. And you're wrong," Much added.

Dax turned to look at him with a questioning expression. Much held his head higher, trying to muster up more confidence than he held at the current moment. "They won't forget about me."


Night had fallen unexpectedly, coming much sooner than he had both wanted and anticipated. He should have been prepared, having the knowledge beforehand that they wouldn't have much time to search. It was a most ridiculous notion, because the truth was that he hadn't any real idea of what he was looking for, or what he was hoping to find.

For a time he and Will had traded off calling, waiting and listening in return as if hoping the trees would answer as their voices melded together on the wind. They had gone to all the usual places first, following the runs they trekked from one part of the forest to the other, but even still there was nothing to be found.

The feeling that had first accumulated in the pit of his stomach had grown, forcing itself into a lump that clogged his throat, making it difficult to breathe. With a hand clutching his bow tightly he came to a stop, leaning back against a tree as he shut his eyes. He wasn't certain if he should be disappointed or relieved in what they found, or in this case, what they lacked to find. It could mean many things, and yet nothing at all.

"We should head back," Will told him quietly. "He might be back at camp."

Robin found himself nodding. He had already considered that option, as well as another. "He might be…and he might not."

He opened his eyes to find the man watching him, and Robin was unable to hide the emotions that were inside of him. Surely Will could read him as well as any man. The outlaw simply stood there, as if studying him. If he understood, there wasn't anything said on the matter. Finally Will let out a sigh, wetting his lips.

"If he is not there, then we go to Nottingham."

"He is not in Nottingham."

"How do you know? And do not claim that you simply know."

Robin leaned his head back until it rested against the tree, his gaze staring up through the leaves, watching the stars as they slowly appeared in the night sky. How was he to explain? Explain that he did know, but couldn't describe how? It was a feeling he had, as sure as his own blood racing through his veins and the beating of his heart. He couldn't explain that any more than he could the question being asked of him now.

"Is it because you do not want it to be true? Robin, wake up. This is the sheriff we're talking about. Much will hang, whether you want him to or not. Staying here in the forest wishing that it was different will not help anyone. Least of all Much. If we leave now, we can still make it there by morning."

"The sheriff cannot hang Much because he is not there," Robin stressed.

"How do you know that he isn't?"

"I just know!" Robin cried out, letting out a groan as the other man protested.

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Yes it does," Robin argued, moving from where he stood. He crossed the gap between them with ease, his voice lowering as it always did when he was serious. "I've been right about these things before, so just trust me. Alright?"

"Robin…you're risking a life here, on a feeling. Is that even wise?"

"Is it any wiser to risk five lives on another feeling?"

"At least we would be trying to do something, instead of running away."

"I'm not…running," Robin breathed, but the statement caused him to pause. Was it true, he wondered? Did he believe that Much wasn't in Nottingham due to his own fears, or based on what he saw before his eyes? He held onto his bow with both hands now, the one end digging into the dirt between his feet, supporting his weight as he leaned forward.

"Robin?" Will's voice was a serious one now.

"If the sheriff had Much, then surely I would know."

"Would you?"

Robin gave a nod, without hesitation. Much was just not another outlaw; he was someone Robin cared for, and deeply. This was knowledge the sheriff had, and he would use it accordingly. Even more so with the recent humiliation Robin and his men had presented the sheriff with. If Much had somehow fallen prey to the other, the story would be well heard wide and far. That was for certain.

"Do you ever consider that the sheriff works in many different ways? What about Allan's brother? We were certain we had the time, and we were wrong."

"We still knew," Robin pointed out, but he knew his argument was starting to fail.

"We were wrong."

He pressed a hand against his head, trying to quell the uneasy feeling that had sprung up suddenly. He had been wrong before, and even now, when he felt more than anything that he was right, he was beginning to question himself. Robin had avoided venturing to Nottingham for the last few days, afraid of what he might see or even hear. Every little thing had grabbed at him when he had last gone; the flowers that grew in the little bits of soil, the dresses made of fine silks and fabric that were displayed in the stalls at the market, even the birds that had sung their summer song in the air. It all reminded him of what he was going to lose…of what he had already lost.

Marian would marry Gisborne, and if there ever was a chance for him, it would be buried so deeply that he doubted it would ever be found again. The feeling of hopelessness, the constant reminder of the cause still burned inside of him now, consuming his thoughts and making his chest ache even the more. And when he felt as though he had lost everything, another blow had come. It felt as though there were walls all about him, drawing closer with every breath he took.

And if Will was right, if Much was in Nottingham, then the man would no doubt hang in the morning if he had not done so already. The thought sickened him, bringing the fathomed walls even closer, threatening to choke the very air from his lungs. Had his own misguided judgment brought him to this? His own selfish desires leading him astray to the point he was willing to risk the life of a friend?

"We have to find him," he whispered, his voice so low he could barely even hear his own words. "I can't lose him too."

He was surprised Will had heard him. At first it was as though the words were missed. But there was no such hope on Robin's part.

"What do you mean 'too'?"

It was all he could do to muster enough courage to raise his gaze and meet that of the other. Will was watching him, the same set expression on his face he always took when worried. It was the worry that seemed to scorn him the most, the one true thing he could never shake off. Angry, bitter words he could handle with his own, childish acts could be chastised, and cunning remarks ignored. But for whatever reason the worry others carried for him shook him to the core, making him feel all the more vulnerable.

"Is this…this is about her, about Marian, isn't it?"

How he could guess was beyond him, but Robin knew his feelings for Marian were no secret. In the time he had thought he had lost her all those months ago, that night in the cave, his emotions had surged, becoming raw and unstoppable. It would a foolish notion to disregard something as simple as common knowledge. Yet what Will knew, and what he guessed to be true were two very different things.

"Is she alright?"

"She is to marry Gisborne," he answered quietly as he turned away. It was so easy to say, and yet he felt as though the weight of the world was bearing down on him. And he knew Will would be doing the same shortly. He expected the belittling; after all his pain was born more from selfish desires than anything real. He was not sure if he hurt more because he was losing her, or because Gisborne was the one winning. He was afraid to know the true answer.

But there was no verbal storm from the other man. Instead his voice was quiet, withdrawn, matching the same temperament of the forest about them. "When?"

Robin shook his head in answer, running a hand along his eyes to banish the tears that were threatening to form. "I did not wish to know."

"Robin…we must stop it."

It surprised him, and Robin found himself watching the younger man with an air of disbelief. That line of thinking was supposed to be his own, and had been when the situation last arose. The sudden support was unexpected, but comforting. As much as it was disheartening. He found himself shaking his head even as the other man protested.

"There must be a way," Will answered in response. "You found a way last time."

"She does not want it to stop."

"She is being forced, you know this."

"It was to save me, Will," he told her sternly. The other man faltered, shaking his head a little, but Robin continued. "It is how she found out what the sheriff's plans were. I've already tried convincing her differently, but she will not listen."

"You know what Gisborne will do to her if he ever finds out. She is not safe there, not in such an arrangement."

"This is why he must never find out," Robin stressed.

"Robin, if she only knew what kind of man he was. If she knew all of the things he has done, not just to Knighton, but to you…"

"No," he was already shaking his head, dismissing the idea. While it was true it would more in likely cause her to fold, it was not something he wished her to know. It was a hard enough burden to bear with his men carrying the knowledge. He did not need to pass it along to her as well.

"Why? It is the truth."

"She sees Gisborne in a way that I will never understand. If she learns of what happened…it will destroy everything."

"For him, or for you?" Will demanded.

It was a question he couldn't answer. He had no love nor care for Gisborne, and protecting the man's reputation was not the first thing on his agenda. But to admit it was to spare himself, it seemed not only foolish, but arrogantly so.

"Is that what is more important to you then?" he wondered, catching Robin's attention then. "Your pride? You would let the woman you love walk to the alter with another man, and not just any other man, but a man such as that? Just so you can save your pride?"

"It is not that easy."

"Yes, it is," Will argued, the man sighing. He shook his head, his voice growing soft. "You've changed Robin. I do not know if all that has happened is finally catching up to you, or if something else is amiss. But you would never have let this go on."

Will was right, he knew. But how could he admit to the other man that he did not know how to stop it? Marian would not listen to him, nor would she believe him if he tried to tell her differently. Gisborne, of course, would deny what was said, and she would take his word as she had done all those years ago. The situation was hopeless.

"We find Much," the other man encouraged him. "Then we find a way to stop this."

"No," Robin shook his head. "None of the others must know. They cannot know."

"Robin…"

He was shaking his head, eliciting a sigh from the other. "It's over, Will, there is nothing we can do. Much is our concern for now."

"Then we go to Nottingham?"

Robin let out a nod, but only after a moment. He did not believe the man was there, but he had to know for sure. It felt as though there was little hope in any choice he made. "We go to Nottingham."


The ring was tight around her finger, a constant reminder of the prison she had forced herself into. It sat snugly around her flesh, giving only slightly so that she was able to twist it in its place. With a firm yank she could pull it free, and more than once had found herself doing so. The fingers of her other hand lingered on the metal as if studying it, but it was all she could do to force herself to leave it on.

Marian was no fool; she had known on the first day she had returned that this was what would be in store. There were reasons why Guy had wanted her to come back; the man had wasted little time in resuming his previous role as her future suitor when she had reluctantly offered to become his wife. For her, it was not only a wise choice, but a necessary one.

This game that she was playing, it was a dangerous one. Robin should know that more than anyone, even more than her. As Gisborne's wife she not only had protection, but a way to divulge the most secret of secrets. She knew how she could play him, knew how she could get precious information. Information that Robin and his men could use. In time the outlaw would understand; their paths were different. The truth hurt more than most things, but not everyone had a choice in life.

That still did not change the guilt she carried. Even now she could remember the look on Robin's face when the truth was known. The bitterness in his voice had not gone amiss either when she had turned him down a second time. But there was little else she could do. Besides, Guy was not necessarily a bad man; he had only made some poor choices, foolish ones, much like Robin had.

While the two had different goals, their choices were driven by the same desires. A desire for power of sorts. Gisborne, however, was influenced by the sheriff on a daily basis, the most basic reason for his ill deeds. Robin had never been able to reach that brink due to his men who were as righteous as he was. They were his balance when Robin lost control; they were able to bring him back from the edge.

Gisborne had no one. Yet in a week's time he would have her. Marian was confident that this marriage would work not only to serve her and Robin, but also Guy. She believed that in time she could change the man, perhaps even persuade him to join their fight. He would see what the sheriff was doing was wrong. He had to see it…Marian knew the battle would be a tough one, but without the premise of the Nightwatchman, she was looking forward to another challenge in her life.

She pulled her hands away from one another, forcing herself to stop meddling with the small trinket. It would serve her no purpose to fret as she was; not when it was such a beautiful day. Since Robin's departure back into the forest after the mishap, Marian had stayed inside the castle and even more so her room. The sheriff was infuriated by the events that had taken place and was no better than an angry lion looking for a poor hapless lamb to devour. Guy had been taking the brunt of his wrath, and Marian had done well to stay out of both their ways.

But it had been near a week since it all had taken place, and she could not stay confined forever. Taking in some air would be a refreshing change, and it would be one of her few final days as a maiden. True, she was far too old to be considered one, but she felt no older than the younger girls that wandered the town market. Keeping the thought in mind she set to work on her hair, pulling free the tangles that had crept up during the night.

There were not many, but enough to keep her busy and she frowned as the light faded from the window. Her candles had gone out the night before and in the morning it had been bright enough to see without them. If there were clouds blocking the sun then perhaps going for a ride was not the best of ideas. But there were no clouds, and this was a fact she knew well. She had spent the last hour sitting in the arch watching the open sky.

Without even looking she set the brush down, weaving her locks into a tight braid. "The answer is still no. It will not matter how many times you ask."

"I am not here to ask."

She looked at him with slight amusement then as she tied off the braid. Robin stood, supporting his weight against the wall, arms crossed in front of his chest as he watched her. His face was passive, almost unreadable, betraying no signs of what he was about to say. But she could guess well enough.

"You will not demand it of me either."

"It had crossed my mind," he confessed, "but I knew you would not listen. So why even say it?"

Because she wanted him to. She couldn't tell him that, however. There was no use to give him false hopes, and the last thing she needed was encouragement to run away from what was right. Despite how much she wanted to. Moving to her feet she smoothed her dress, wetting her lips as she tried to come up with what to say. Normally she never found herself at loss for words, but since her betrothal with Gisborne it had become increasingly difficult.

"Robin…I do not know what to say, other than I am sorry. What is done is done, we can't change it."

He moved then, drawing nearer but not too close. His arms were still folded in front of him, and it was only then that she could really see him. He looked tired, as though he had forgone any sort of rest for a good time. It gave her cause to worry, but she found no time to comment on it.

"And so we have agreed on this," he said simply. It hurt more than she wanted to admit. True, she had put her effort into convincing him this was the only way. But she had expected more effort on his part. Now it seemed as though he was simply giving up.

"Why are you here then?" she wondered bitterly. "Obviously you did not come to offer good fortune. Have you come to mock instead? Call me a fool perhaps?"

"You are no fool," Robin said quietly, his gaze falling to the floor. "The truth of the matter was that I had no desire to come…or be here. Yet I had no choice…Much has gone missing."

"Missing?" Out of everything that was unexpected, and her earlier bitterness was gone almost instantly.

"No one has seen him since the night before last."

"You think he left?"

It was an honest question, but Robin's gaze flicked back up to hers and she could see it was filled with confusion. Obviously he had never considered this option before, and his emotions were easy to read.

"What reason would he have to leave?"

"You did try to kill him," she reminded him dryly. Marian was regretful in the next moment, knowing she could not take back the words that would wound him. She had not meant it so much as in spite, but as a simple reminder instead. Robin said his men trusted him still, but Marian did not know how far that trust went. Robin had betrayed them…even if it was unintentional.

"He does not hold me accountable for that," Robin whispered quietly. "Even if that were the case, why wait until now to leave? Would he not have done so before?"

She nodded, knowing that the logic was there. She also knew that though there were some who might abandon Robin, Much was not one of them. She had known Much for as long as Robin had, and knew that loyalty was a trait the man carried well. One would have to pry the other man away with strength of a dozen horses before he would willingly give in.

"My men think he is here," Robin continued dryly after the silence had stretched too long.

"You do not?"

"The dungeons were empty this morning, and the gallows have not even been prepared."

"I would have seen him," Marian encouraged him. She did not add that she would have heard about it as well. With the incessant roaring coming from the sheriff's quarters everyone in Nottingham would have heard if an outlaw had been captured.

Robin could only nod. Marian was unsure if this knowledge was comforting or not. It could be many of things, and yet nothing at all. Slowly she drew in another breath, trying to come up with another suggestion. "Perhaps he is here, maybe the sheriff does not know he is one of your men?"

"He would know," Robin argued. "If he didn't at first, then Much would be sure to inform him."

There was the faintest trace of a smile lingering on the man's lips, but it was one that was sad, as if remembering fond memories that could be no more.

"We can't be sure as of yet. The sheriff is still furious with all that has happened; he would not wait for you to come and rescue anyone. If he is here, then he would be somewhere new. I can speak to Guy and…"

"No."

The change in his voice startled her, and she glanced up at him in confusion. Here she was offering an option, a way to know for sure so that any mistake could be avoided. Yet he was determined; she could see it in his eyes.

"No," he spoke more calmly now. "What would you say to him? How would you even know that anything has taken place? The risk is too high."

"I have done this for many more years than you believe," she chastised him. "Rumors travel through the towns quickly, and most of them untrue. I, a simple woman who does not understand how most things work, am concerned. I speak my concerns to Guy, he shares what he knows so that I do not worry. Then I tell you."

"Rumors are one thing; it is not a rumor when no one knows about it. You cannot hide behind a lie that will not back you up."

"Robin…"

"No," he was shaking his head again. "I forbade you."

"You forbade me?"

A nod. The look in his eyes said for certain as well. She let out a sigh. "What will you do then?"

He shrugged, letting out a sigh as well. "Search the towns, the forest…what else is there to do?"

"Let me help you then; I am going to ride out today, perhaps I can see something you cannot. An extra pair of eyes will only speed things along."

"While your offer in generous, the answer is still the same. Marian…you cannot keep up with this charade, you are in dangerous company."

"My closest friends are thieves and criminals, guilty of nearly every crime known to man. I do not think I can find company that is any more dangerous."

There was a smile shared with her, and for the first time she felt a bit of relief. They were talking again, like they always had, even if it was only a pretense. She was going to speak once again, but faltered as she heard the voice. Robin had heard it as well, his eyes shifting to the door. With an exasperated sigh she turned to the door. Out of all the times!

"Leave, while you still can. I will keep him occupied."

"I am not afraid of him," Robin remarked, rolling his eyes.

"Gisborne will hang you," she reminded him, "and me as well if he catches you in here."

"Not if you scream," the man pointed out. "Then your knight will come and rescue you, sweep you off your feet as he saves you from the big bad villain."

"Grow up," she growled, already moving towards the door. He was infuriating at times, nothing more than an overgrown child. She did not risk saying anything else, motioning for the man to leave instead as the knock came on the door.

In truth she should have expected it. Gisborne seemed to somehow slip away from the sheriff long enough to intrude upon her and remind her of the approaching date. She couldn't forget, even if she wanted to. Part of her did though, she had to admit. One last time she motioned at Robin angrily, the man still standing in the middle of the room with a smirk on his face, as if daring her to let the other in. Charming, it wasn't in the least. He obsessed over her safety and then in turn pulled pranks such as this.

One last time she begged him to hide, irritated that he had not done so already, but her attention was focused on the door. Gisborne would not wait forever, but perhaps she could distract him. Long enough so that Robin could get his priorities back in order.

TBC