Disclaimer etc.: see Prologue/1st chapter.

I dunno if all the 'medical' details are right. I'm not a doctor, but I hope they're vaguely realistic… Ah well.

And I want to say a massive thank you to everyone who reviewed! I never expected people would like this as much as they have! So, thank are due to: Lucy, pixiespryte, Kessia Rose, clarex, Starzangel, RixxiSpooks, robin and marion forever, Iris Shadow, Kates Master, The viEns of hIStorY and Lauren. In order. :D

And to all those of you who read but don't review, I hope you liked it!

R&R is blessed to the Muse, and enjoy!

Unintended Consequences

3 - Sickness

"Robin!" Djaq followed him doggedly as he stormed across the rough-and-ready campsite. "You must rest!"

"I'm fine!" he half-yelled. "Why can't you get that?!" He thought better of the impassioned semi-shout a second later as pain jolted though his skull. He winced and grabbed his head.

"Master?" Much rose to his feet, concerned. "What is it?"

"He is hurt." Djaq beat Robin to it. "More than he is telling us."

"Djaq, I'm fine!"

"You got off your horse and you nearly collapsed." Much started at Djaq's words, stared at her, and then at Robin, eyes wide. "You are not fine."

"There is nothing wrong with me!" Robin exclaimed. "This is silly!" He took an almost-aggressive step forward, fists clenched.

Which turned out to be a bad move.

His stomach abruptly rebelled and heaved. Violently. Instinct kicked in and he spun round, sharply collapsing to his hands and knees as he threw up. Instantly Much was by his side and the others weren't far behind.

Robin's shoulders shook as Much helped him back to his feet. The headache had intensified and the world was spinning once more.

Djaq stood before him, hands on hips. "You are not fine."

He managed a weak smile. "You might be right."

---------

"Ah, Gisborne, hello." The Sheriff was uncharacteristically… Gisborne thought the word was 'chirpy'. Which was not a word he'd usually associate with Vaizey, Sheriff of Nottingham.

"My lord." He nodded respectfully, his hands clasped behind his back.

"I think…" Vaizey leaned forward, leaning his hands on his desk. "I think we should pay a visit to Knighton Hall."

"Knighton Hall?" Gisborne questioned as he fought to keep a triumphant grin from his lips.

"Yes you idiot, Knighton Hall." Ah. Evidently not as chirpy as he seemed. "I want to see how dear Edward is doing. I think we should, don't you?" A smirk; almost evil.

Gisborne nodded. "Yes, my lord."

"It's only fair after all," Vaizey continued, speaking right over Guy, as if the other was not even there. "You know, seeing as we were the ones who arranged for his…" The Sheriff smirked. "I think the phrase is 'untimely demise'."

---------

She barely waited for Beth to finish speaking before racing up the stairs. She knew even before she flung open the door to her father's bedchamber that something was horribly, horribly wrong.

The door slammed back against the wall, and Marian stood in the doorway, frozen with shock.

This is not happening.

His face was pale. Deathly pale, and she could see a line of tiny, glimmering beads of sweat across his forehead. He lay beneath the coverings, despite the warmth in the air, still as a corpse. And, to be honest, he looked like one, too.

Marian's eyes abruptly filled with tears.

This cannot be happening.

Everything was supposed to be good! Gisborne was gone, she was with Robin, things were happy. Things were good. Fantastic, in fact. But now…

This cannot be happening.

First Robin, and now her father. She loved them both. Both hurt – both… No. She would not say it!

Oh Lord, this cannot be happening!

With remarkable calm she knelt beside her father's bed. She couldn't let herself cry; not yet. Not now. Later, when everything was alright. When she had somehow fixed everything. But her fingers still shook as she took his limp hand in hers. She let out one long, shuddering breath, forcing the tears the sparkled in her ice-blue eyes not to fall.

"What happened?" she asked tightly, tensely. The only sound in a room heavy with pre-emptive mourning. "What happened to him?"

Beth still hovered in the doorway, her brown eyes wide and sorrowful. "He was walking in Knighton," she answered softly. "There was a man – at least, people think he was a man. Completely in black. Masked, in the shadows. He…" Beth's voice faltered.

"He what?"

"He shot him, my lady," Beth whispered. "In the leg."

Marian glanced over her shoulder at the other woman, her forehead furrowed. "Surely a mere arrow was not enough to—" Her voice caught, and she swallowed. "To hurt him like this?"

"He said he was fine, but he became dizzy and sick and he was shaking and he—"

"Beth." Marian gently interrupted the maid's babbling. "What is it?"

She could see the tears in Beth's eyes. "It was poison," she whispered.

A poison arrow.

And with that silent phrase, something deep inside Marian knew that there was no chance this would end with a 'happily ever after'.

My father has been poisoned. My father has been poisoned. My father has been poisoned.

She couldn't stop them. The words repeated inside her head. Over and over and over and over and over…

My father has been poisoned. My father has been poisoned. My father has been poi—

Marian stopped, horrified with sudden realisation.

Poison arrow.

Poison.

Robin!

---------

He was shaking. Violently. All over.

Djaq's concerned features swam into view before him. "He needs to rest," she stated firmly. "This is not good."

He was vaguely aware of big hands taking hold of him and steering him remarkably gently over to a makeshift bed – a couple of blankets strewn over dry, spongy moss. Those same big hands gently pressed him down – he suddenly found himself lying down.

Unfortunately, the sharp change in orientation jolted his already-unsteady stomach. He rolled onto his side and retched. A trickle of foul-smelling, foul-tasting greenish liquid dribbled from his lips to the ground – he'd lost the previous contents of his stomach last time.

"Robin. Come on, Robin."

A sharply accented voice, speaking to him. He rolled onto his back, assisted by those same big hands, and tried to focus. A name slipped into the forefront of his mind.

"Djaq," he managed to croak out.

Her face appeared above him and cool fingers gently touched his forehead. "Robin?"

He tried to smile. "I think you're right."

She smiled, a just a little. "Rest, Robin."

And he did.

---------

"We need to do something!" Much exclaimed.

"Do what?" Djaq snapped back sharply. "There is nothing we can do."

Will, seated beside Robin's restlessly-resting form, one hand resting on his leader's shoulder, looked up. "Djaq," he asked softly, "what's wrong with him?"

Djaq closed her eyes briefly, painfully. "He has been poisoned," she replied lowly. "The arrow."

"Poison?" There was a hint of panic in Much's voice. "Is he…" He trailed off, and started again. "Will he be okay?"

Djaq closed her eyes again, and didn't answer. Her silence was all the answer they needed.

Will stood up. "We should fetch Marian," he said quietly. "I'll go."

"Me too," Allan said.

Djaq nodded. "We will look after Robin." She paused. "But be quick."

They understood.

Be quick. He may not have much time.

---------

Marian didn't move from her father's side.

She was torn. Her father, or her lover? She instinctively knew that whatever was… hurting (won't say it, can't say it, won't say it…) her father was the same thing that was hurting Robin. And she loved them both.

But Edward was her father, and she would not leave him. She could not. Not now.

All of a sudden she heard raised voices downstairs. Beth's, she was sure of that, and two others. Two men. Two very familiar men.

The Sheriff. And Gisborne.

Marian felt a sudden flash of anger. She did not like Gisborne.

She heard booted feet pounding up the stairs and rose to her feet as the door was slammed open. "Ah, Lady Marian," the Sheriff greeted with a false smile. He stepped into the room, Gisborne in his wake.

Marian ignored Gisborne.

"What do you want?" she snapped back, not in the mood for pleasantries.

The Sheriff affected a hurt expression. "We merely came to see how dear Eddie was doing."

Marian glanced back down at the ashen form of her stricken father, and her heart twisted. She barely managed to keep her voice steady. "He is not well, and should not be disturbed."

"He's what?"

Marian started. "He is… very sick."

"No!" Vaizey was smiling. "He is not 'very sick'. He is dying. Come on! You know it, I know it, Gisborne knows it…"

Realisation dawned. "You did it."

Vaizey applauded; slow, condescending handclaps. "Well done."

And she was angry. "You had my father shot! You had Robin shot!"

The Sheriff blinked. "Excuse me?" What bore a surprising resemblance to actual surprise floated across his features. "I had Robin shot? As in Robin Robin? Locksley?"

"Yes." That was all she could say; one word laced with anger and hate and grief and love.

Vaizey laughed shortly, disconcerted. "No, I had Eddie here shot. I didn't order Locksley shot; Gisborne, did I order Locksley shot?"

"No," Guy rumbled.

"Exactly." He considered it. "Although, if you're telling the truth…" His face lit up with almost-childish glee. "Locksley is injured!"

And now she was furious. "I don't care," she bit off sharply. "Just fix it!"

"And how do you want me to do that?"

"An antidote."

"A what?"

"Antidote."

The Sheriff smirked. "Ah, yes. An antidote." He pretended to consider her question. "Yes, there is one of those. Back in Nottingham, I do believe."

"Give it to him. Now."

Vaizey sighed. "Marian, Marian, Marian," he tutted. "Why would I cure your father if I was the one who had him murdered?"

"Murdered?" Fear. "He's not dead yet."

The Sheriff smiled and shifted his gaze to her father's still body.

Her father's too still body.

Marian gasped. No! He's lying! He's alive!

Vaizey leaned forward. "Think again," he whispered in her ear.

---------