Hey guys. So I suppose that this chapter should be rated M due to a little love scene (my first, so don't be too harsh!). For those not comfortable with those things, I have underlined, bolded, and used all caps to mark the beginning and end of the romantic sequence (example: DANNY)

Hope you like it!

Chapter 11: So Close

Once Danny and Allan had reached the border of Sherwood—Allan walking along silently beside her, carefully massaging the left side of his face—she stopped and faced him.

She drew her hood up to cover her brilliant curls and hide her tortured eyes. It had been an emotionally draining journey for Danny. She had left Sherwood earlier that evening to comfort Allan, to convince him that they could overcome the new obstacle that her nobility created, but now she was returning in uncertainty and doubt. She was hurt and angry with him—and she was justified in feeling both—but she felt a modicum of resentment toward herself as well.

She was in turmoil. She wanted to punch Allan again, but she also wanted to kiss his cheek and take away the sting from the previous one. She wanted to apologize to him for her outburst and jealousy, but she also wanted him to acknowledge that he understood her reasons. He had been furious when he saw her flirt with that guard, after all, and what she had done was not nearly in the same caliber as what he had! That barmaid had kissed the smooth skin of his neck in a way that Danny had not yet been able to…in a way that she so yearned to….

The worst part though was the confusion and uncertainty about the days ahead—even just the next few hours ahead. She knew that she could forgive Allan in time—her resolve was weakening already—but she wasn't convinced that it was the correct thing to do. Maybe this past night had been a sign. Maybe their growing feelings weren't strong enough and never would be. Maybe she was meant to use this argument as an excuse to end what they were experiencing before it went any further, before he completely broke her heart.

She needed to get away. She couldn't think straight with him standing so close to her…his body throwing off such tempting warmth—and promising her so much more heat…

So she retreated behind the folds and shadows of her cloak and made herself look stronger and sterner than she actually felt. "Don't follow me," she ordered and then she began to back into the darkness of the trees.

Allan took a step toward her, reaching a hand out, "Wait," he pleaded, his expression tortured as if he finally understood what he had done. "We need to talk about this."

Danny didn't say anything. She simply turned away from him and continued slinking into the forest.

"Danny!" he begged and she had to stop. He hadn't yelled to her. He hadn't even raised his voice a decibel. Instead, he spoke normally, but the raw emotion in his shaking voice called to her reluctantly retreating limbs, halting them. There was an edge of panic in his voice and enough sorrow that Danny could almost hear the tears forming in his eyes. He was terrified, she realized. He was absolutely petrified by the thought that she was leaving him.

Not sure if it was the intelligent thing to do, Danny turned back to him. Allan's features were clearly visible by the light of the almost full moon and stars, shining in the sky above them. Danny was still upset, still confused, but she couldn't keep her eyes from roving over his body, lingering on his strong chest and lean hips. While his form was truly beautiful, her gaze returned to the bare expanse of skin on his neck. The skin that the barmaid had so daringly—and mistakenly—thought she was free to touch and that Danny longed for the chance to taste.

NOT consciously deciding to do so, Danny found her feet bringing her closer to Allan and her hands pushing her hood off her head, the soft weight coming to rest upon her back. She stopped before Allan, not removing her gaze from the sun-kissed skin of his throat and therefore missing the look of utter confusion, hope, and lust on Allan's face, for he had felt the heat of her obvious perusal. Reaching up and resting the fingers of her right hand against the side of his throat, Danny placed her left hand on his hip and pulled her body closer to his. She stood up on her tiptoes and, wetting her lips, she placed a light kiss to the expanse of delectable flesh before her on the other side from where the barmaid had.

She felt the vibration of Allan's vocal chords as he involuntarily let loose a sinfully seductive whimper because of her touch. Danny couldn't help herself; she came undone from the sheer pleasure that such a small sound gave her. She pulled Allan down to her and again hungrily caressed his neck with her feverish lips, reveling in his masculine smell and untouched skin. The sounds that escaped his lips fueled the fire spreading throughout her limbs and concentrating just below her belly, her hand twining possessively in his hair.

Unexpectedly, she lightly nipped his neck and with a sort of snarl, Allan wrapped his arms around her and gently leaned her back against the trunk of a tree. He couldn't think straight, hadn't been able to since just a few moments before when this woman—this unbelievable woman—had given him the greatest pleasure he had ever felt. It was just a light kiss to his neck, but Allan had damn near exploded with the flames that had shot through him, something that he had never experienced before. Before Allan had completely convinced his limbs to behave and not ravage her stunning body, she had done the unthinkable. She had bitten him—deliberately baited him!—and Allan could not deny any longer that she was feeling the same need he was.

Gathering her up in his arms, he rested her back against a tree and took command of her lips, which she generously opened, granting him access to her delicious mouth and teasing tongue. Unable to help himself and not wanting to anyway, his hands roamed over her body, one tangling in her long, glorious locks and the other resting heavenly on her breast. He rubbed his thumb over her taut peak and she moaned so alluringly that Allan instantly became harder than he had ever been before. He pressed his lower half against her and she sucked in a breath as she felt the obvious sign of his attraction to her and the soft sounds that she was making.

Her fingers daringly slipped underneath the hem of his shirt, brushing the soft skin of his stomach and back. Running her hands up and down his strong torso, she pulled him closer so that there wasn't a millimeter of distance between them, so that she couldn't tell where she ended and Allan began. She felt his hand trail slowly down her body, where it hooked her leg and brought it up, wrapping it around him and bringing him even closer than she had thought possible without breaching her. His hard length pushed against her, seeking her heat through their clothes, promising such pleasure that Danny couldn't even imagine.

Allan continued to kiss and stroke her, cupping both her backside and her breasts. He couldn't believe that he and Danny were this close, had never dreamed that she would return his desire so fully. He was holding her, touching her, and she was whimpering as if she never wanted him to stop. And he didn't...good God, he never wanted to stop kissing her. He wanted so badly to lay her on the grassy forest floor, remove her clothing piece by piece as she removed his, and make love to her until the sun came up. He could picture her there, her lips swollen from his kisses, her blue eyes almost black with desire, opening herself to him…

A BARRAGE of images flooded through Allan's mind. Danny smiling at him, wearing his ring on her finger. Crisp, white daisies in her hair as he leaned forward to kiss her before their friends and family. Danny, smiling happily as she dragged him back onto their bed. Danny, sleeping peacefully beside him in his arms, her head resting on his chest. Danny, pregnant with their child, standing in the doorway of the home that they had built together…

It was in this moment that Allan realized the true depth of his feelings for the woman that he encircled in his arms. There was a warm, tingling feeling in his chest—that had been there for days—that he realized had everything to do with the woman to whom he was now virtually fused.

Allan loved her. Completely and unconditionally. He loved her.

This realization gave him the inhuman strength that he needed in order to sever his connection with Danny. He wanted Danny for the rest of his life and so he couldn't do this to her. He couldn't take her here, without the benefit of a marriage ceremony. What he wanted was forever and that meant that he could wait. He could wait until he confessed his love for her and she for him because he wanted to do right by her. He didn't want this to be the end of what they had, but the beginning and so he couldn't take her virtue…he didn't want to.

Okay, maybe he did—the proof of that was still raging conspicuously—but the point was that he wouldn't.

So Allan managed to let go of the most tempting, seductive, and beautiful woman that he had ever seen in his life and step back. What he could not do, however, was turn away from her as he had originally planned and therefore he was privy to the most glorious sight that he had ever beheld. Danny's hair was tousled and her lips were still slightly swollen from the intensity of his onslaught. Her arms were outstretched, still reaching for him, and her eyes were heavy-lidded with desire. For him.

Somehow, he knew. He just knew that she had never experienced any of these emotions before, had never had a man hold her in such a close and compromising way. The possessiveness and desire to make her his almost brought him to his knees, almost managed to obliterate his resolve, and almost forced his mouth open to beg her to end his suffering…

She had chosen him for some inexplicable reason. What had he done to deserve this? To deserve her?

He watched as she dropped her arms and leaned her head back against the tree, closing her eyes and exposing the smooth, alabaster expanse of her neck. Allan longed to do to her as she had done to him, but he planted his feet firmly, put his hands on his hips, and struggled to slow his wild, heavy breathing and beating heart.

Danny, too, was having trouble controlling her desires and emotions. Her heart was beating so loudly that she was sure he must hear it, even though he stood at least seven feet away. Her lips tingled and her hands felt empty, her body cold without his warmth next to her. She was grateful though, that he had stopped them when he had and her respect for him grew. What had started as an innocent, exploratory kiss had quickly escalated and gone much further than she had planned.

She opened her eyes and saw Allan still standing far away from her with a pained expression on his face. Inwardly, she laughed without any humor. She knew exactly how he felt.

And that was what shocked her the most. While she might not remember concretely, she knew that she had never been with a man before, never even desired one, never known the pleasure that it could bring…

Eyes roaming over Allan hungrily again, she could just see the bulge in the material of his pants that betrayed his propriety. She knew that he wanted her, that it had cost him quite dearly to stop before making her his own forever, and she felt sorry for having put him in such an uncomfortable position.

Exhaling heavily, Danny apologized. "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't—"

"Don't," Allan interrupted, standing with his hands on his hips and shaking his head with a small smile on his face. "Don't you ever apologize to me for the greatest few minutes of my life. That would be something that I could never forgive you for."

Danny stared at this man, the man that had somehow torn down every barrier she had built and situated himself in her life. In her heart.

The knowledge that he had been right, that she did love him, was not the blissful occurrence that she had thought it would be. Quite the contrary, it was painful. Her limbs turned cold and she couldn't breathe. What cruel twist of fate was it that she finally found a man whom she loved, but could not have? It was unfair; her entire, damn life had been a continuous stream of disappointments and heartaches!

Danny hunched over, placing her hands on her knees as she fought to draw a breath. Almost instantly, Allan's boots appeared in her view and his warm, glorious hand materialized on her back, rubbing gently. It was meant to be comforting, but it only served to remind Danny that his hands would never again rest on her body, never again roam over her most lonely places as they had just mere seconds ago. Places that ached for his touch…

She spun quickly out from under Allan's hand, bosom heaving as she struggled to take a full breath. The edges of her vision began to blur and she thought she could feel a section of the black wall holding her memories in check crumble and begin to topple.

She had to get away, had to get away. She couldn't stay here, couldn't stand next to this man as her hopes were dashed and her fears confirmed. They could never be together. Never.

"I—I have to…" Danny stammered. "I have to go. Please, please, don't follow me. Just…leave me be."

She started to weep and covered her mouth with her right hand to quiet her sobs. Clumsily, she began to sprint into the darkness of the forest, stumbling and almost falling twice as she darted between the trees, her hands resting on them briefly, once again leaving Allan and everything she wanted behind her.

She weaved between the trees, narrowly missing several as she strained to see through the sheen of tears in her eyes. Spinning to miss a trunk, Danny felt her foot snag on a thick root and she fell flat on her face. She fought to regain her feet and pick up her pace, but she fell again onto her hands and knees.

Tears dripping from her face, Danny fought to remain in the present and not to succumb to the beckoning blackness where she just knew that her worst memory waited for her. It called to her, promising to destroy Danny once and for all.

"No…" Danny begged as her arms gave out and she rested on the cold ground. "Please no…" Her pleading went unheeded, however, and she sank into darkness.

"You will do this!" her father shouted at her.

Danny turned to face her father, anger in her eyes and defiance etched in her face. "I will do no such thing," she retorted firmly.

She was wearing a deep plum, velvet dress with long sleeves that graced the floor and a train that she held to keep herself from tripping on it. Her long tresses tumbled around her waist and a silver circlet adorned her head, her curls accentuating it gracefully. She wore the ring her father had given her and a silver pendant of a lion—to symbolize her family's loyalty to the king—rested between her breasts, hidden by the bodice of the beautiful gown.

Her father advanced menacingly on her, but Danny stood her ground, forcing herself to seem unbothered by his anger. She gazed lazily at him and saw that he, too, was dressed in his finery. He wore a pair of spotless, black breeches tucked into his gleaming, black boots and a coal black, long-sleeved shirt. Over his shoulders, a deep purple, velvet cloak—that Danny could only assume was to match her dress—was fastened with a silver lion brooch.

"You dare to disobey me, daughter?" he asked, his eyes telling her to consider carefully.

Surprisingly, Danny was not frightened nor did she feel threatened. She knew that her father loved her dearly and would never intentionally hurt her. She was only slightly anxious that she would not be able to sway his mind because he believed that he was doing the right thing for her.

She averted her eyes and clasped her hands demurely in front of her. "Father," she said quietly, hoping to curb his anger, "I know that you only desire that which is best for me." She looked back into his eyes and was pleased to see his anger ebbing, "However, I beg you, please do not make me do this." Her voice wavered as her emotions controlled her, tears forming in her eyes at the thought of the horror he was imposing on her.

Her father saw her watering eyes and grasped her chin, his wrath at her insolence disappearing completely to be replaced with his love. "I know that this seems like an awful sentence," he began quietly, hoping to convince her of his belief, "but I truly believe that a match with Lord Barrington is beneficial for you and this family."

She closed her eyes in disappointment and turned her back to him, removing her face from his gentle grasp. "How can something that feels like a death sentence possibly be good for me, Father?" she asked beseechingly.

His hands rested on her shoulders. "Geoffrey is a good man," he said. "He is wealthy, kind, and loyal to the crown—"

"He's twice my age, Father!" Danny interrupted, spinning to gaze into her father's eyes.

Her father chose to look down at the floor rather than continue gazing into his daughter's tortured face. "Be that as it may," he began, "he will care for you when I no longer am able."

"I don't love him, Father," Danny breathed.

Her father's gaze returned to her eyes and saw the pain in them, the despair. "With time," he replied, "you may come to love him in your own way."

Danny's face contorted with anger. "I will never love him."

Her father's face hardened, hating the pain that he was causing her, but refusing to yield. "You will marry Lord Barrington. We do not have the luxury of marrying for love."

Danny's face crumpled as her tears began to flow. "Please," she begged one last time, "I don't want to be like my mother."

Dropping his arms from her shoulders, her father said decisively, "I will tell Lord Barrington that we accept his proposal," and he walked away from her.

Glaring at her father's back, Danny gathered her skirts up her hands, bunching them into fists. "I will never marry that man," she growled at her father who turned and looked genuinely surprised at the venom in her voice. "You cannot make me."

Danny kicked off her shoes and ran from the room, from her father, from that nightmare, and burst into the night air, rushing blindly. She did not look behind her, but she heard her father yell after her desperately, "Gwyn!"

"Danny!" she heard. "Danny, come back to me."

She felt warm, calloused hands gripping her face, brushing away her hot tears. She opened her eyes and focused on a pair of blue eyes, staring concernedly back at her. With a start, she realized that it was Allan's beautiful eyes before her and she helplessly flung her arms around his neck, clinging to his shoulders as she continued to sob uncontrollably into his chest.

Allan gripped her just as tightly, running his hands comfortingly through her hair and shushing her quietly. He was worried and scared about the memory that she had clearly just experienced. He had never seen her so out of control, so inconsolable. With each tear that she continued to shed, his anxiety grew exponentially. Had he done this to her? Had he pushed her too far?

At the time, she had seemed to enjoy their closeness, returning his fervor with an equal urgency, but now, he wondered if he had ruined his chance to make her love him. Instead of turning to him, she had turned away from him, choosing to run into the forest rather than discuss what they had just felt and done. Why had she run from him? Why didn't she want to tell him how he made her feel? Didn't she care for him?

While these questions and doubts circulated in his mind, Danny's sobs and tears finally quieted. Her despair remained, blossoming within her, devouring every happiness and wonderful thought she had ever had since she awoke as Danny. She longed to never release this man who held her so lovingly in his arms, but she could not afford that luxury. As her father had said, nobility did not have the privilege of marrying for love, but were instead doomed to a life of misery and captivity.

She breathed in Allan's smell, felt the strength of his muscles beneath her hands, and reveled in roughness of his cheek against her skin. She loved everything about his man, longed to bind herself to him in every possible way, but she could not. No, she was not free to love him because her father had promised her to someone else. She was betrothed and her life was over before it had truly begun.

She was in pain. Her heart didn't beat, it throbbed. Her limbs didn't feel, they burned. Her lips didn't tingle, they stung. She was a shell. She could only stand at the edge of the cliff as the woman known as Danny was pitched off it, disappearing into the void.

Forcefully, the broken woman removed her arms from around the man she had fallen impossibly in love with and stood on shaky legs. She stared down at him, still kneeling on the ground, and said in a cold, dead voice, "I need to be alone. Please, just leave me alone. Leave me in peace."

She began to walk away from him, but he called after her, "Danny!"

She turned to look at him, rising to his feet now, a scared and wounded look on his face, begging her to return to him, to tell him that all was well. She longed to do it, to reassure him as she had first set out to do earlier that evening, but she was only human. She could not achieve the impossible.

"My name isn't Danny," she said resolutely and again jogged into the shadows.

Danny hadn't returned to camp. How could she? How could she admit to what she had seen? What she had learned?

No, she had sought a quiet place in Sherwood and laid herself down, forcing her eyes to close as she chased elusive sleep. By sheer strength of mind alone, she slipped into oblivion for several numbing hours. When she awoke, the sun had been in the sky for nearly three hours and she had an awful cramp in her back from lying on the hard ground.

For a moment, she thought that that was the worst of her problems and so she sat up, breathing deeply. As she gazed out at the tree trunks, squirrels, and shrubs, however, reality came flooding back to her and she fell upon the ground once more, staring up at the green canopy of leaves.

As she stared, she felt tears begin to prickle at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to weep. Somehow, she felt that Danny was weak compared to the woman she had been before. Gwyn was her name. Gwyn had hardly ever allowed herself the luxury of weeping. It was an act that betrayed weakness and helplessness and now was not the time to succumb. She had to be strong. She had to find a way to survive. It was not in her to surrender without a fight.

So Danny and Gwyn thought over their options.

1) She could return to the boys and tell the truth, 2) she could just not return to camp at all, or 3) she could pretend as if nothing had happened and instead try to figure this out on her own.

If she told the truth, the boys would help her find her family and she would be forced to marry Lord Geoffrey Barrington. That was unbearable and out of the question. Yet she couldn't abandon the boys without so much as a good-bye. Especially Allan. Her dear Allan deserved an explanation. That left the final option. She just wouldn't tell them that she had remembered her name or that she was betrothed. In the grand scheme of things, neither of those discoveries really mattered, neither specifically told her what she needed to know, namely who she truly was, what she had been doing in Sherwood, or what she had done with that pesky letter.

None of the choices were without fault, so she had to decide between the lesser of three evils, meaning that the third option was the most plausible. She would pretend that her name was still Danny, not Gwyn…

Gwyndolyn. That was her true name.

At this realization, several images passed before her eyes…

Her father held out his arms to her, calling her name as a young Gwyn ran to him, catching her in an embrace and twirling her in a circle, his face beaming.

Her nurse called after her, chasing her through the tall grass, demanding that she return at once.

A knight in full armor hammered at her as a teenage Gwyn struggled to oppose his advances and defend herself while her father shouted instructions to her.

Her attendant pulled the strings of her dress tight as she confided to Gwyn that a boy had kissed her the previous night. Gwyn's eyes widened and her mouth loosed conspiratorial giggles.

Soldiers chased after her, yelling her name, ordering her to stop...

Danny/Gwyn shook her head to clear the images, stopping the flow.

It was utterly confusing to live two different lives at once, but what else could she do? She wasn't completely Gwyn yet, but Danny was created from the remnants of Gwyn, so who did that make her? What did that mean for her and Allan?

Oh god, Allan.

She couldn't tell him that she was promised to another man, but she couldn't lie to him either. It wasn't fair or right to deceive him or to betray her father's promise to this Lord Barrington.

Hope sparked within her. Maybe, just maybe, she could convince her father to annul the agreement made with Lord Barrington once he saw how deeply she loved Allan. Her father wasn't unreasonable or spiteful. He loved her and she truly believed that he just wanted to do what was best for her so he just had to listen to her.

If he disapproved because Allan was an outlaw and of a lower class than they, her choice would be simple. If her father couldn't look past their differences, then he didn't love her as much she thought he did and so she would run away with Allan and leave her father behind.

It was settled. It had been surprisingly simple. A weight lifted from Danny's shoulders and she began her long march back to camp, lighter than she had felt in days.

She was half a mile from camp when the foolishness of her plan struck her, bringing with it the pain and futility. She had been so close. She had almost convinced herself that everything would be okay. She sank to the ground and curled up into a small ball, a hollow feeling centering in her chest. The pain from last night returned in full force and she was back to where she began.

She was not naïve. Her father would not allow her to marry a man below their station when someone as wealthy as Lord Barrington promised to increase the family's prosperity and standing.

A terrible choice lay before her. She had to choose between a life of misery and a life of feigned ignorance. She would have to choose between Allan and her father. The inevitability of it tormented her.

There was only one option available to her now. Until she could speak with her father, until she was able to make that awful choice, she had to sever all ties with Allan that extended beyond friendship. She had to end their relationship.

As she lay on the ground, her poor, battered, and recently mended heart broke into pieces.

Okay, just one note. Her name is Gwyndolyn, like Gwendolyn, but the first syllable is pronounced so that it rhymes with sin. Hope that helps. OMG, she has a name! Finally.

Reviews?