"Elizabeth
"Elizabeth!" She looked up from her cooking and a large smile spread across her lips. "Get inside, quick!" Allan A' Dale caught her around her waist and dragged inside her cottage hidden in Sherwood Forrest.
"Allan, what—"
He clapped his hand over her mouth. "Shh, shh!" he hissed through his teeth, listening hard. Hoof beats thundered past the cottage without stopping. When they faded into the distance, he sighed in relief. "Thank you," he said, hugging her warmly.
"What is this about, Allan?" Elizabeth demanded. But he was busy peering out the windows, making sure the horsemen had truly gone; he didn't hear her. "Allan!"
He looked at her. "What?" he asked, walking over to her. "What's wrong?"
"What are you doing here?" she asked. "What's going on?"
"I made your brother mad," he replied, a little sheepish. She rolled her eyes and folded her arms. "Can I stay with you until it blows over?" She sighed, rubbed her forehead, then nodded. "Thank you!" he said, beaming happily. He hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead. "You're an angel! I'm not being funny. You are."
"I'm sure," she said dryly, removing herself from him. "Clean up while I finish dinner." He nodded eagerly she paused at the door. "Heaven help you if you're not sparkling when I come back. And if you bring the Sheriff or Gisborne on this cottage, I will kill you meself." She left the cottage.
"You're an angel, you are, Elizabeth," he called after her, rolling up his sleeves.
Outside, Elizabeth continued working on her stew, pleased to see it hadn't boiled over. "Hello, little sister." She turned and looked up. Robin Hood was sitting on her roof, grinning down at her. "I take it you have a visitor?" he asked.
"Of course I do," she said, glaring up at him. They weren't really siblings. She was six when her own father died and left her in the care of Robin's. The two grew up alongside each other as brother and sister, bickering and quarrelling and helping each other whenever the situation called. "Get him out as soon as possible, Robin. Or he'll eat me out of house and home."
Robin jumped to the ground, still smiling. "Oh, Allan doesn't eat that much," he said, leaning against the dwelling. One look at her expression sent him into a fit of laughter. "At least it isn't Much you have under your roof. Think of it that way, Lizzy."
She laughed. "True," she admitted. "What's he done to anger you, anyway?"
"He fell in love with you."
Djaq came running back to them, something clutched tightly in her hand. "Move," she said shortly to Allan, who looked up and moved slightly away from Elizabeth. Djaq opened the vial she held and opened Elizabeth's mouth. "Come on, wood witch," she muttered, pouring the amber-coloured liquid from the vial and into Elizabeth's mouth. "Let this work as you promised it would." She stoppered the vial and set it down, then, careful of the vicious bruising, she rubbed Elizabeth's throat to coax the liquid down it.
"Djaq," Robin said. "What're you doing?"
"This wood witch," she said, still rubbing Elizabeth's damaged throat, "told me this sap has an infusion of something which mends the broken flesh and helps them breathe." Djaq sighed and focused on her task. "I want her to be right." She shook her head in frustration. "Keep her warm." Allan held Elizabeth closer. "Come on, wood witch."
Elizabeth went into the cottage after Robin left to retrieve two wooden bowls from her shelf by the side window. Allan was still there; he had busied himself with sweeping the dirt floor into little pictures. When she came in, he dropped the branch he was using and presented his hands to her. "Well?" he asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet a little. "Am I sparkling enough for you?"
"Allan," she said, sighing. "If you've angered Robin, what makes you think he won't come here to look for you? He knows where I live; Will helped Dan Scarlett build this cottage. And they all, Robin's men, have an open invitation to come visit."
"Elizabeth," he whined.
She cut him off. "Allan, he's my brother," she snapped. "I can't really deny him safety, now can I?"
"Elizabeth," he said, trying again. "We've made your cottage neutral ground." She folded her arms and arched an eyebrow. "I'm not being funny, Sunshine. The other day, we decided if we argued amongst each other, if the offender could make it here, they would be safe."
"That explains why he was so pleasant," she said, thinking back to her conversation with her brother. "Oh well. He doesn't think you're good enough for me, so it doesn't really matter."
"Of course he thinks that," Allan agreed, helping her with the dishes. "He thinks you deserve someone of station. If Marian had a brother…" He paused as her words sunk in. "What did you say?" She smiled, but didn't answer. "I'm not being funny, Elizabeth. What did he tell you?"
She sighed. "Allan," she began slowly, serving the stew into the two wooden bowls. "I don't want to hurt you. You're one of my closet friends and one of my favourites, after all. But no matter how much I may love you, I love another much more." She looked up into his eyes. I'm sorry."
"Oh," he said softly, crestfallen. "That's-that's all right. Can't make you do anything you didn't feel right about." He smiled, becoming cheery once more. "You're still my favourite, Sunshine. And I'm not being funny."
Allan spent three days with Elizabeth while Robin popped in and out, checking on the two, updating his sister on his mood toward their friend. On the third day, Elizabeth was patching different articles of clothing Robin and his men had left for her and Robin made a new quiver of arrow while Allan hid the in the cottage. "I'm not angry with him," Robin said, looking down the shaft of an arrow. "I never was. I just don't think he's good enough for you. Now, if Marian—"
"If Marian had a brother, I could marry him," Elizabeth said, interrupting him. "I know, Robin. You've told me many times."
"Rumours abound amongst the trees," Robin continued. "That you confessed to poor Allan that you're in love with another man. Care to share?"
"If your source one who helped his father give me a home?" she asked, tying off the patch on Djaq's jacket. She glanced at him. He nodded silently. "Well, then, you have your answer. He's the one."
"Elizabeth!"
"Well, surely a carpenter's son is better than a lying, poaching blacksmith's son!" she cried. "Right?"
"Will is too young to be able to take care of you and a family!"
"Well, he's in love with Djaq, so it doesn't matter anyway!" She threw the rest of her sewing at him. "You can finish your own sewing if you're going to judge my heart's decisions that won't have any impact on my future." She stormed into the cottage, slamming the door.
Robin sighed and looked up and saw Djaq peering around the corner of the cottage at him. "Did you hear that?" he asked. She nodded, walking over and helping him fold Elizabeth's sewing. "How much of it?"
"All of it," she answered shortly. "But I cannot hate her for it."
