Chapter 4: Rollin' Like a Celebrity
("Beverly Hills" – Weezer)

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Robin Hood. Kinda wish I did, though. Of course, if I did, no one would get hurt simply because I'd feel bad for them.

Author's Note:I'm sorry for the last chapter, I really am. For one thing, it was much too short. Secondly, it wasn't that great. Kind of 'meh' in my opinion. I'll try to make this one better, though. Compensating, for the win.

I was originally going to wait until next week to stick this up, but I figured that, since I had already finished it, I'd better let you guys find out what happens after the cliffhanger.

Oh, by the way, it seems Djaq has totally annihilated Roy in the voting. It's kind of good, because I reckon Vicky wouldn't be liked that much by Roy, as she wouldn't be able to understand a thing he said.

Yeah, so, enjoy!


The Sheriff didn't acknowledge our presence for the first few minutes we that we were in the room; he just sat in his oddly extravagant chair, scribbling something or other on a piece of paper. Allan and I had separated ourselves from each other right before we had entered the room, so I stood in the middle of the great hall and he lingered near the door. I knew he was trying not to draw attention to himself. If Vaysey recognized him, then I'd probably have to use some of my nonexistent kung fu skills on him; chances are I wouldn't even give him a bloody nose. Perhaps I could manage a split lip.

"Ah, her highness," drawled Vaysey in a creepily friendly voice, snapping me out of my semi-violent thoughts. That voice started up in the back of my mind again. As I had done before, I politely told it to 'S-T-F-U, noob.' Another voice kicked up, telling me how pathetic I was, insulting the voice in my head. I made a mental note to tell my doctor that I was hearing numeral voices in my head.

"Victoria, please," I requested, making sure to keep an eye on him in case he recognized Allan.

"Victoria," he amended. I didn't care for being addressed by my full first name, but it sounded important and a whole lot more royal than Alicia, which was my sister's name. "That's your manservant?" His gaze shifted to my Mr. A Dale. "He looks familiar…"

"I assure you, you've never seen him before." I interrupted harshly, causing him to return his eyes to me. He made that sound he does, sort of like 'hm' but not really. "May I, er, inquire as to why you requested my presence?" I'll admit, it felt awkward speaking like that, but this was 1192 and I had a role to fulfill.

"You aren't dressed like royalty," the Sheriff observed.

"I could hardly run around in a ceremonial dress, could I?"

"Yes, well. You know, it's not every day an heiress to the throne of a kingdom we've never heard of appears in our dungeons," speculated Vaysey. Ah, the flaw in my master plan. I wondered when someone was going to bring that up. I had just hoped it wouldn't be someone as important as the Sheriff. Of course, with my luck, that was exactly who had brought it up. You could almost hear the gears in my head as I tried to formulate a plan. I heard Allan shifting around behind me uncomfortably.

"You understand that I don't usually explain this myself." I mumbled.

"Naturally," the Sheriff responded.

"Your language can be quite dodgy sometimes." At least now I would have an excuse for all of my stammering. Always plan ahead says some guy on some movie or something. The look on Vaysey's face showed that he understood.

"Your king…" I faltered.

"King Richard." Allan supplied, whispering in my ear. I jumped in surprise; I hadn't heard him walk up behind me.

"Right, thank you. Your King Richard," I continued. "proposed an idea to my father, King… Dane of America. He proposed that we join forces in the Crusades – my country has so far been passive in your war. I was sent as a sort of ambassador, I guess you could say. I had been traveling along just fine until your men attacked us." Cue pompous nose-in-the-air sniff.

"King Richard proposed to ally with your country?" the Sheriff inquired, obviously interested. I nodded to confirm it. "That's odd, because King Richard has been in the Holy Land for the past five years." Oh. Hadn't thought of that.

"The king sent word to your dad from the Holy Land," Allan picked up, tickling my ear with his breath, "and you were sent to London to represent your country in raising funds and the like." I glanced up at Allan, surprised, before relaying the information to Vaysey, who seemed to accept it. Have I mentioned how much I loved the pathological lying son of his mother?

"And what will daddy dearest do if I decide to keep you here?" the Sheriff asked suddenly.

"Send assassins, naturally," I responded in a voice that implied that it was obvious. "It would be much more profitable for you to let me go."

"Profitable how?" I knew I would strike a soft spot, mentioning money.

"My father is a generous man," I lied, unsure of exactly where I was going with this. "He might just reward you for any hospitality towards me. Although my country is unknown, I assure you it is not in the least bit poor." The Sheriff was silent for a while, probably thinking it over. "Come on, we're just a little girl and her manservant," I pointed out. "It shouldn't be too hard for you to find us, should you ever want us again. I still have to regain most of my possessions from outlaws, so I will be traversing about Nottinghamshire for the time being. They will have no doubt claimed them, as they were left on the forest floor unprotected."

"Very well," the Sheriff said with a sigh. "Would you like a guard? Those outlaws can be a bit… nasty."

"Oh, no thank you," I declined as politely as I could. "My manservant provides sufficient protection. I must request that you bring us our effects, though. I would very much like to have my bag back, and I feel that much safer when my manservant has a sword back in his hand." I reached back and patted Allan affectionately; at first I didn't realize I was patting his stomach until I glanced back at him. Blushing – and ignoring the grin on Allan's face – I turned back to Vaysey.

"GUARDS!" he roared, causing me to nearly jump back into Allan. I thought he had decided to kill us anyway, and I turned, wide-eyed, to the door. It wasn't until he demanded that our items be brought to us that I let out the breath I hadn't been aware that I was holding.

"And a horse!" Allan called out after the guard in a perfect imitation of my accent.

"What?" Vaysey snapped, looked toward us. The guard hesitated in the doorway.

"We would like a horse as well. It's only courteous, as, indirectly, you're responsible for all of our possessions being stolen," I cut in before Allan could answer Vaysey himself.

"Bring them a horse, too," the Sheriff commanded, not without a glare in our direction. "I trust you know where the courtyard is," he added, somewhat coldly. I was about to tell him that no, we didn't know where it was, before Allan half-dragged me out of the room.

Both of the guards stationed at the door had run off, presumably to fulfill Vaysey's orders. We had closed the door behind us, so we were completely alone in the hallway.

"Allan, I love you," I announced. It was totally platonic love, of course; I often told everyone I loved them when I was grateful, and he had totally just saved me back in there. Although I was sure he wasn't aware of how affectionate I was, he didn't seem appalled by my sudden proclamation.

"Not bein' funny, but now isn't exactly the time for confessions." said Allan, ushering me down the hall.

"You know where we're going, then?" I asked, looking over my shoulder at him. He nodded and glanced down a hallway as we passed it. He nodded; that was a relief, since I had no idea where we were supposed to pick up the horse. I still hadn't gotten my bag, either, and if I was supposed to be running around Nottinghamshire, it was something that I'd rather have with me.

"Allan, wait." I stopped and turned around to face the outlaw. He was taller than I was but I paid it no mind. "I, um, have to-"

"Oh, your highness!" Someone slammed into me from behind, sending me crashing into Allan. Thankfully he didn't fall; it would've caused a very awkward scene. "Sorry!" the guard gasped. I took a moment to regain my composure and straighten a few creases in my shirt.

"What is it?" I snapped, half-glaring at the man who had run into me. He held out my bag and Allan's sword.

"Your 'effects', milady." Allan and I grabbed our respected items, fastened them to ourselves, and waited, for the guard looked like he had some other information to relay.

"Come, your horse is waiting the courtyard." the man said. With a flustered bow, he pivoted around and led us down a different hallway than the one in which I had previously been ushered along. A few twists and turns later, and we were out in the courtyard. A beautiful chestnut stallion was being tended to by a stable boy near the steps, obviously waiting for us. Allan let out a low whistle and stepped forward to stroke its muzzle. I stared at the beast in something similar to horror.

"Mistress, aren't you coming?" Allan inquired in that flawless mimic of my accent. A bit of his original British accent was leaking through, but I doubted anyone could tell except for me.

"No, thanks," I breathed, not looking away from the horse. "I'm fine with staying here. You go on with out me." I flashed a weak smile and then reverted to my expression of terror. Allan raised an eyebrow and returned to my side.

"What's the matter, don't you like the horse?" he whispered, glancing back to the animal. "Must cost a pretty coin."

"No, I don't like the horse," I hissed back, turning away from said creature. "It's terrifying. You can ride it, and I'll walk behind you, about a few yards away. Go on, I'll give you a head start." Allan laughed at me then. It was a loud, genuine laugh, and I didn't like being the cause of it.

"You're scared of a horse!" he exclaimed quietly (which is a feat in and of itself).

"Yes," I snapped with a scowl, "I have an extensive list of things I fear, and equines are on it." The laughing died away, but the amused smile remained firmly in place.

"Look, it's not that bad," Allan assured, gently pulling me towards the animal. Once we got within a few feet of it, I began to resist. The guard and stable boy had left a while ago, which saved us from explaining my odd predicament. "It's not like it's going to eat you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know they're herbivores and all, but a kick from one of those things could put you down for good." I stated matter-of-factly.

"Which is why you don't stand behind them," Allan countered. Well, he got me there. With a small smile, he climbed up into the saddle and held down a hand to me. "See, you can sit behind me. You'll just have to worry about holding on. I'll steer him." He patted the horse's neck affectionately.

I decided that, since I didn't want to insult Vaysey by refusing his gift, I had to at least give it a shot. Staring the beast straight in the eye, I took a few hesitant steps forward. I swear I saw the stupid thing grin right before it jerked its head in my direction and snorted loudly. With an undignified shriek, I stumbled back, tripped over my own feet, and toppled to the ground. Allan let out a shout of laugher as I climbed to my feet.

"It did that on purpose!" I exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at the animal. Allan just laughed and urged the horse towards me. I darted to the side to avoid coming face-to-face with the thing.

"It's not going to bite," he grinned, holding his hand out to me once more. I glared at the horse as I took Allan's hand. He swung me onto the back of the horse. I, thoroughly convinced that I was going to die, instantly grabbed a hold of Allan's torso as he steered the horse through the gate and into Nottingham.

"Not being funny, but," he began after a few minutes of riding, "you're crushing my ribs." I grunted an apology and loosed my grip slightly.

"Where are we going?" I asked as he directed the horse out of the city. My voice was muffled slight on account of my face being pressed against his back. I knew I looked ridiculous, but I didn't want to fall off of the horse.

"To the camp. We- Oi, it's Will!" I could feel him turning around to look behind him but I didn't dare try it myself.

"Did he see us?" I asked, looking up into Allan's hair.

"Yeah, he pointed us out to someone. I think it was Much." came his reply. He seemed to completely ignore the fact that I knew who Will was despite having never heard his name.

"Okay, good, so they aren't going to break into the prison." I had already gotten Allan out, and I didn't think my influence as Princess of America would be enough to get anyone else out of jail, especially not if the Sheriff knew it was an outlaw.

"You know an awful lot for-"

"-for someone from a county no one knows about, yeah, I know."


Cue fears of getting people out of character. I'm sorry if I did! I think I got Allan close enough, but I not too sure about the Sheriff… Sorry, sorry, sorry. Once again, suggestions and (constructive!) criticism are welcome!

Charlotte Rowena – Is this fast enough? I had like SUPAH MUSE, so I actually completed this roughly within twenty-four hours of the last chapter. xD Thanks so much, though, for telling me I kept Allan in character. I was major scared about that. Haha, I'm not sure exactly how I managed to remind you of pixie dust, but, er, woot? I'm sorry, making you choose between Djaq and Roy! I just couldn't choose myself, and I thought 'Hm, why not ask the fans…' but yeah, you're right. For some reason, I think Roy might protest a woman staying with them. I dunno, he seems like the 'rawr man power!' type. … do I get to keep the zombies' mini Robin Hood dolls? All I want are the Much and Allan ones! Maybe Robin, too, for the little Saracen bow.