A/N: I know I said a Carter story would be up next, but it's just not happening. I'm still working on it, but I wanted to get something out for all of you, so I thought I'd head on to the next song, which is "The Boxer" by Simon and Garfunkel. I think it is the perfect song for Allan A'Dale, and though I'm not completely happy with how he story turned out, I'm just trying to work through my writer's block so I'm going to go ahead and post it. So please review and let me know what you think. I did change a few words in the lyrics to make it match up with the time period. Enjoy!
Allan, remembering the events that had happened at the Sheriff's last party, cast an experienced eye around the room. There wasn't a Fool in sight, and the Sheriff was looking to be in a fine mood. Allan sighed in relief, only a few hours more and than maybe he could make his escape to the woods. Guy thought it was the tavern that Allan escaped to, and Allan was perfectly fine with that assumption. He shuddered to think how Guy would react if he knew his newest second in command still considered Sherwood his home.
Allan winked at the serving girl and picked the mug out of her hand. With a jaunty wave to the Sheriff's table, he saluted Vaysey and Guy and settled himself down on a window ledge to listen to the minstrel. Armed with a small lute, the minstrel started picking a tune and as the first words left the man's mouth, there wasn't near enough ale in the world to get rid of the bad taste in Allan's mouth or to appease the knot in his stomach.
I am just a poor boy
Though my story's seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocketful of mumbles
Such are promises
All lies and jests
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest
Every man wonders how his story will one day be told, and right in front of him, was his. Allan wanted nothing more than to get up and run away, run away to his woods, but he could not. He could feel Guy's eyes on him and knew that to pass this unsaid test, he would have to stay. This once poor boy had the hope of a steady future ahead of him now, and though it had been paved with betrayal, it was all he had. He had sacrificed his ragtag family for this chance, he couldn't ruin it now. He had made his decision, Robin had banned him, and there was no going back.
When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the forest ditches
Running scared
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know
Allan felt his mind shifting through memories forcibly pushed back into the recesses daily. He recalled the stabbing emptiness of hunger; the quiet voice of his father telling him and his brother Tom that they would have to leave home and find their own way of survival; he remembered the feeling of panic when he woke that one morning to find his lone companion of that past year, his brother, gone with all of their meager possessions. Allan had truly been on his own then, only fourteen years old, and without his thieving partner to help him find food or shelter.
That was when Allan had found his truest self, the part of him that knew how to survive. He learned how to smooth talk widows into giving him shelter for the night and how to con drunken men out of their last bit of money. He learned how to shoot a bow better than most men, and could take down a hare from 50 paces away. The drifter had even joined a gang of outlaws at one point early on, helping them with a con at a small monastery. But as he always did, Allan A'Dale drifted away from any sort of stability or hope of settling down- being alone was the best of way of surviving. No sharing, no betrayal, no complications.
Asking only workman's wages
I come looking for a job
But I get no offers
Just a come-on from the whores at the local tavern
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there
There had even been a point before he found Robin, where he had tried to become an honest man. He had become sick of his life, and wondered if he could try an honest day's work, if he could become the sort of man he secretly admired. But it had not gone over well. The business of being a Thatcher, a Blacksmith, or even a Butcher did not work out for him. The few money made were spent on ale and whores, until Allan figured it was time to move on; time to find some excitement, some sort of purpose beyond back-breaking work.
Then I'm laying out my winter clothes
And wishing I was gone
Going home
Where the Nottingham City winters aren't bleeding me,
Leading me, going home.
He remembered the days leading up to meeting Robin in the forest. He had found himself in Sherwood, in the dead of winter, cold and hungry, and most of all, angry with his life. He was proud he had survived, but what had he survived for? And then the soldiers had come, had finally caught Allan, and he had felt panic. His was not a proud life, but it was his. But then a savior had come in the form of Robin Hood, who had saved him a second time as well from hanging.
Somehow Allan A'Dale, never known for his luck, had escaped death twice in two days, and he had that man to think. So when he and the young Will Scarlett had entered the woods with the now outlawed Lord, it was a newly found sense of debt and honor that had him helping Robin. And when the time came that he could leave, Allan stayed. He was still to this day unable to pinpoint why. Perhaps it had been that he now had a purpose in life, or perhaps simply that Allan had found an adventure that challenged him. But whatever the reason, Allan found himself with a new family, with people he admired and respected. It was a frightening prospect, and as much as he loved his scruffy, unorganized family of outlaws, he knew that life would willingly hand him over to the grimy hands of poverty and hunger once his new life was over. Thus his instinct and survival urges took over once more, leading him away from this gang to a much deadlier one at the castle.
In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of every glove that laid him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains.
So lost in his memories and self-loathing, Allan almost missed the last verse, but the strains of redemption and hope made their way into his ears and Allan looked up to see the minstrel looking at him, as well as a disguised Much eating at the food table behind the singer. Looking around the rest of the room as the song finished, Allan could make out Robin leading Marian away from the others and could see the tip of John's staff outside the window. Unable to see Will or Djaq, but knowing they were probably there as well, Allan whistled the last verse under his breath, knowing now would probably be a good time to escape the manor. He didn't like his old friends seeing him like this, and he definitely didn't want to be around to deal with Guy or the Sheriff after the fallout.
And maybe, just maybe I am a Boxer, he thought to himself. And he wasn't going down without a fight. He would make amends with his friends and he would finally become someone he could respect.
Well, what did you think? Hopefully, the Carter one really will be next. Thanks for reading!
