"I knew you'd be back with him," Allan sighed, giving the other men an exaggerated "why me?" look to the heavens. They in turn ignored the look, as none of them were particularly sad to see the little unicorn again. Allan saw the lack of sympathy and inwardly groaned. The colt was an obvious scam artist. Of course they couldn't find his mother - she was also a mythical being.
"We tried, Robin, we really did," Hermione protested, eyes wide to convey honesty. "We looked all over for little Hugo's mother. We even had him sit alone for awhile to see if she would approach him, but she never came." Djaq nodded in agreement and Hugo fixed Robin with his own wide-eyed look of innocence.
"Well, I want you to keep looking," Robin said, "but in the meantime he can stay here." Robin walked over and patted Hugo on the head, then winked at Allan, who groaned out loud this time. Everyone was against him.
Four days later, Hugo was still in the camp, and Allan had not gotten another opportunity to be alone with Hermione. She and Djaq went out to look for his mother, but she did not materialize (quite convenient, in his opinion); Marian had come the day before and, as expected, gone into hysterics over the foal. Allan was starting to grudgingly admit the little bugger was cute, but it was seriously cramping his style. The longer Hermione stayed in the camp, the more he wanted her, and despite some idle flirting and bickering, their relationship hadn't progressed nearly enough for his liking. The rest of the camp was at a standstill as well; they were all too busy making a fuss over the no-horn to make any plans about the Sheriff's mysterious guest or Marian's impending wedding. He did notice that they all seemed to accept Hermione as part of the gang at this point; it hadn't taken long for Robin to overcome his misgivings. Hermione was especially close to Djaq, Much and Little John. She helped Much quite a bit with the cooking, and asked John lots of questions about the forest, as he had lived in it the longest. At first, Allan had been a trifle jealous, but he did not feel any romantic thoughts coming from Much or John. Besides, most of the time it appeared that Hugo was number one in her heart.
Finally, he grew tired of watching her hang all over the little pest. "What about your training, Princess?" he asked Hermione on the fifth day she had been in camp. "I thought you were going to be an ace fighter? Your archery's still crap and you haven't done anything else in days, besides wave the staff at John a few times."
"You're right," she said. "I've been worrying about this little guy too much."
"How are you going to protect him from all the two-horned beasts in the forest if you can't fight?"
"Well, let's go right now," Hermione said. She had been lax about her training. How was she supposed to impress everyone when she got home if all she could do was miss a bull's-eye over and over again?
"It's gonna be a little hard with No-Horn underfoot."
"I bet Hugo would like watching me work," Hermione said. Hugo gave Allan a rather sanctimonious little jerk of the head. "Let me use the sword a little bit today."
"Better yet, why don't you put your new pet next to the bulls eye and practice your shooting some more? Not being funny, but maybe that'll make your aim a bit straighter."
"You're right, that wasn't funny," she replied. "How about you stand next to the bulls eye instead? I think I would only hit you half of the time."
"And the other half it would ricochet off the tree and hit me anyway," Allan said. "Come on. Grab a sword and leave your horse with Djaq and the other ladies. You can't concentrate if you're worrying about him; let's find someplace quiet to practice."
"Are you sure he can't come?"
"Do you want to train, or do you want to show off for your pet?"
"Fine," Hermione sighed, leaning down to give Hugo a kiss and hug goodbye. "Be a good little unicorn." Hugo batted his eyes at her and gave her a sad "how could you possibly leave me?" look. She giggled and gave him another little pat and he trotted off next to Djaq. Allan smirked at Hugo, who sneezed at him; his standard response to the outlaw.
"You sound like you've got a cold, buddy," Allan said. "I don't know if it's safe to keep you around the camp." Hugo ignored him and turned his charms on for Djaq.
"For God's sake, be careful," Robin told them. "The last thing we need is you two running each other through with swords. Why don't you take Will or Little John with you?"
"I'd hate to deprive them of No-Horn's company," Allan said, irritated that Robin was trying to keep him from spending time alone with Hermione, now that he finally had an opportunity. "We'll be fine, Robin. If I manage to kill the princess I'll bury her deep enough so you won't find her."
"More of those euphemisms," Much mumbled to himself.
"And if I kill you?" Hermione asked.
"Same rules apply," Allan said. "Or you can cut off my head and take it to Guy. That'll earn you favor, and I'll be none the wiser at that point. Maybe he'll be so grateful he'll marry you and leave Marian alone."
"That would be a best case scenario," Robin said, winking at Little John, who tapped his staff to the ground in mock agreement. "Alright you two, have at then. Allan, we will mourn your loss."
"But not for long," Much put in, earning him a punch on the shoulder from Allan. "Ow! Not so hard."
"Go show them what you can do, Hermione," said Djaq, who was petting Hugo. "They still think a woman cannot do as well as men. It is up to us to prove them wrong."
"Yep, you just wait," said Hermione, wagging her finger at Allan. "I'm sure I'll be just at good at ramming you as I was at dodging your advances." Despite her earlier flirting, she said this without a hint of irony; Allan exchanged raised eyebrows and a devilish wink with Will but wisely said nothing. He grabbed a sword and two shields, waited for Hermione to borrow a sword from Robin and led her off into the woods. He waited until they were a good distance from the camp, then put down the weapons and gave her what he hoped was a rakish smile.
"So, Princess, any interest in picking up where we left off the other day before the nag no-horned in?"
"I haven't the foggiest idea what you're talking about," said Hermione in a lofty voice, her blush somewhat belying her words. "I thought we were going to swordfight."
"Yeah, that's kind of what I had in mind," Allan said, walking toward her.
"That's a bit crude!" she exclaimed, stepping back from him.
"I thought you didn't know what I was talking about," he returned, closing the distance between them. He cupped her chin and started to lean into her, but she pulled away.
Heart pounding and cheeks flushed, Hermione said, "Fight first. Let's see if you can earn it, shall we?" She was emboldened by her own nerve, but found she honestly enjoyed sparring with the outlaw. It hadn't taken her long to change her mind about his charms, and their interrupted kiss had replayed in her mind every moment she was not thinking about getting home or that cute little Hugo, and frankly, she had been thinking about home less and less. The whole thing seemed like a grand vacation; sure you had to get home eventually, but why rush? It would still be there. The idea the she might not return home was something that she refused to entertain. Still, she knew the stupidest thing she could possibly do is get involved in an ill-fated romance with a man several centuries older than she was. And it wouldn't be the first or last stupid thing you've done.
"Alright, Princess, we'll play it your way," Allan said, more amused than annoyed. He didn't mind her making him wait a little bit; at this point, he knew he wasn't mistaken about her attraction for him. It would come soon enough. He took his sword from the ground and handed her a shield. "Can you hold them both? Practice swinging a little before you come after me."
"It's heavy," Hermione noted, "but not terrible. I feel like the shield by itself was almost more of a shock. They kind of balance one another out." She swished the sword through the air, enjoying the sound it made. It made her feel powerful and strong, something she hadn't managed to feel since losing her wand; she imagined she looked like some sort of warrior woman and the idea appealed to her. She grinned, thinking about the look on Ron's face if he saw her with a sword. Ginny would be impressed, too. Why should Neville, Harry and Griphook be the only ones who got to wave a blade around? Evil-doers beware! She's just as deadly with a sword as a wand! None are safe!
"Okay, now attack the tree." Allan could see how pleased she was with herself; despite the dangerous weapons she was carrying, he thought the all-around effect was rather adorable, like a little kid with toys. A very pretty kid with very sharp toys.
"I thought I was attacking you."
"You're the one that wants to take it slow," Allan remarked. "Hit a target that can't fight back first. See that knothole? Pretend that's the heart, and aim for it."
Hermione jabbed the sword at the tree. "Take that, Tom Riddle!" Ooo, he'd be pissed if he heard her use that name. Too bad you're dead, creep! She was feeling almost giddy. She attacked the tree several more times, dancing around as she had before. She swung, plunged, attacked over and under, and finally stopped and turned to Allan, sweating, breathless and grinning from ear to ear.
"Not too shabby," he said. "Really, you should just give up the archery and stick to sword fighting. Who's Tom Riddle? Another Death Eater?"
"The worst one yet," she said. "But he's been dead for awhile. So, you really think that looked good?"
Allan nodded. "Your form is good. You get a little fancy, but you don't lose any of your aim, so that's not a problem. Are you ready to try with me? Remember, these are real weapons and our goal is not to hurt one another, merely to practice. All joking aside, I don't relish the idea of explaining away one of our dead or maimed bodies, especially if the maimed dead one is me. We can practice with sticks first, if you want."
"No, I'm ready!" Hermione enthused. "Don't worry, I'll take it easy on you." She spun the sword through the air again for good measure, relishing in its weight and power. Archery smarchery - this was much more her style!
Allan came at her suddenly, and Hermione had to move quickly to dodge his attack; in the same motion she swung her blade at his unprotected shoulder, which he barely blocked in time.
"Nice one!" he said appreciatively. "Now you first."
Hermione circled Allan, looking for a weak spot. She imagined she was carrying a wand and was up against Fenrir Greyback. She knew the nasty werewolf would have dirty tricks up his sleeve and sharp teeth and claws to boot. She had to remain alert; constant vigilance! She swung, pulling her sword back just in time when she saw Allan was not going to block her.
"Good job," he said. "I wondered if you'd be quick enough to stop your attack if I didn't put up my shield. Good thing I trust you. Again!"
They sparred for awhile, Hermione throwing out lots of 'protegos' and 'expelliarmuses' as she got caught up in their fight. She could tell at first that Allan was taking it easy on her, but as their practice continued, he came at her harder and harder. She kept dodging and attacking until she thought she was going to pass out. Finally, Allan stepped back, laid down his weapons and put his hands up.
"I think that's good for right now. Dying from exhaustion will leave us just as dead as the sword would."
"Sure you don't want some more?" Hermione panted, praying he really was finished. "I could go for another hour."
He looked at her: her eyes were bright, her face blood-red and her hair wild. He thought he had never been so turned on in his life. Without thinking, he crossed to her, grabbed her arms and pressed his lips against hers. Forget his earlier thoughts; he was tired of waiting, and from her response she felt the same way. Her mouth opened to his at once and he nearly growled at the intensity.
Hermione kissed him back in earnest; he dropped her arms and put his hands on her hips, pulling him against her and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She allowed herself to be steered backward until he had her propped against a tree, their lips never breaking contact. Who cared if she was eight hundred years in the past? Who cared if this was doomed to break both of their hearts, or if he was an outlaw, a traitor and a scoundrel? All that mattered at the moment was his extremely talented mouth, and his hands that were running along her body, pulling her hair and bringing her ever closer to him. Had anyone ever kissed her like that, like they wanted to devour her? She and Ron had been each other's first loves, but she had never felt this kind need from or for him.
He moved his lips from her mouth and attacked her neck. "You're so pretty," he breathed into her ear, causing her to shudder. She brought his lips back to hers, melting against him. When she felt his hot hands moving under her shirt, her first instinct was to keep going, to let him do whatever he (she) wanted, and she didn't have to stretch her mind to know what that was. But the responsible side of her, the rational, everything-must-be-planned part of her resisted. Really, Hermione? You're going to let some outlaw with pretty eyes deflower you against a tree? Is that really a good idea? She pushed him back. He immediately tried to move back in, but she held her hands out, and he nodded.
"Wow," he said. He knew his current lack of breath had nothing to do with their training. If he had known it was going to be like that, he would have kissed her the very first second he saw her.
She smiled back at him, equally breathless and more than a little dazed. "Yeah."
"Let me kiss you again," Allan said, running his hands over her hair. "I won't do anything you don't want."
His eyes were just too pretty, and he was just too close for her to think straight; she pulled him back down to her and got lost in him again. She thought she could have stayed there forever, until her own time caught up with them. Finally, after what might have been hours, she pulled away again.
"We should get back," she said regretfully. "They'll send out a search party for us."
"We'll hear them coming," Allan said, leaning in for another kiss.
"No, we won't," she grinned. "I wouldn't even hear an army right now."
He chuckled. "Fair point. You sure you want to go back? We could stay a bit longer." He made his point by kissing her neck and nuzzling her ear.
"You do make a good case," Hermione said. It hadn't taken her very long to ignore that rational part of her. Take away my books and throw me in a forest, and what do you get? A sex-crazed wood nymph! She giggled to herself, but did not stop him. "You have the prettiest eyes, do you know that?"
"That's not very manly," he teased, but he looked at her and batted his eyelashes anyway. "Prettier than No-Horn?"
"Yes," she said, stepping on her tiptoes to kiss his eyes, "but don't you dare tell him I said that."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Allan said, thinking that was probably the first thing he was going to say when he saw the blasted beast. "And you're gorgeous. Malfoy my ass - there's no way I'd let that Death Eating scum get his hands on you."
Hermione kissed him again to cover the small twinge of guilt she felt as he repeated her lies to her. Still, it was awfully romantic of him. She never would have thought she'd be the type of girl that liked that macho stuff. She liked taking care of herself, and indeed Harry and Ron as well. Some might call it bossy, but she just thought it was being prepared and organized. When she went back to Hogwarts, though, Harry and Ron had opted not to return with her, and she had learned to stand on her own for the first time in seven years. She thought that new independence from them was part of the reason she was faring so well in the forest. She and Ron had discovered they were not meant for one another, and there had been no one else. Was that why she was allowing herself to be taken in by long eyelashes and witty quips? It had certainly been a long time since anyone had called her pretty.
"We should really go," Hermione said again.
"Are you afraid No-Horn will be scandalized by your behavior?" he teased.
"Maybe," she replied. "Actually, I want to talk to Robin about something. I've had an idea I think you should all hear."
"You're not going undercover in Nottingham," Allan said flatly. "You've already had this idea, and we've already vetoed it." The last thing he wanted to do was worry about her with the Sheriff and Giz. Marian was bad enough, but Hermione was his girl (he was already thinking of her this way, even though they had just kissed; if he was honest, he had been thinking it since the Devil's Snare) and he didn't want their slimy hands anywhere near her.
"Well, luckily you can't really tell me what to do," Hermione said, some of her bossiness shining through her lusty daze. "Just hear me out. I really think it's a good idea."
"I'll listen to you, Princess," Allan said, taking her hand and motioning towards the weapons. "But you can guarantee my answer will still be no, and Robin will back me on this one."
Hermione pulled him down for another quick kiss and went to collect her sword and shield. "We'll just see about that, won't we?"