Hey guys,

For once I will take the time to answer to my beloved commenters.

Stripysokz: Yes the story is rather dark is not not? I'm a huge fan of angst, terrible at fluff imho... Ty for commenting!

PIg: I love you comments, always so long and nice. ;) I think I have been a bit more careful while reading/writing chapter 11 due to the fact that I have a lot of devoted readers (not only on that I don't want to disappoint anyone. Anyway, I think Robin could feel like that towards the child due to the fact that he hadn't formed any relation to it at all. He only found out about it as Marian had lost it and was hurt. Thank you for commenting dear!

Alan and Davinia: I like AllanDjaq much more than WillDjaq too... Shame the scriptwriters don't seem to get it though... :sigh: Thanx for commenting!

Lay September: Alltid lika kul att få kommentarer på svenska. :-D Tack så mkt! Glad att du finner min lilla historia vacker.

Requiem: Wow great comment!!! Made me really happy. I love making OC:s and they have a way of returning... It's so hard to let them go. I was only going to have Jess in chapter 1 originally, but I rather like her. ;) I love Robin's warrior side. What makes this version of Robin Hood so much fun to write fics about is the fact that the characters have so much potential and layers. They're not simply good or bad. Thank you for commenting!

Thanxs also to Lioness and the others that have commented on earlier chapters! I love you all!

Now, enough ranting from the authoress. Here comes chapter 12.
Enjoy!

Love,
Trix

Chapter 12:

Nemesis

It is a beautiful world where mistakes are faced with forgiveness. Where love finds a way to those who deserves it the least and needs it the most, where and a man can better himself and change direction. And it is a beautiful world where you love the one you choose to love, and fate lets you be loved in return by him and only him. But the path a heart wanders is never straight and always narrow and even in the very best of worlds love is a fickle and unpredictable force.

Djaq had never wished to fall in love with Allan-a-Dale. The price was too high. She had never wished to fall in love at all. When she sat down and cut her hair by her brother's death bed she let her femininity fall with the black curls. Every expectation she ever faced in her life was replaced by pretence, her dreams and hopes discarded with the silk veil. Husband. Children. Home. One by one the curls fell to the hard clay floor. Safiya cried by the cruelty, but in the same time something else spawned in her chest. Freedom. While life as she knew it held everything she ever dared to wish for, breaking it down left her with a fluttering feeling of relief that surprised her and made her feel a pang of guilt. She was a spoiled woman to have been showered with such loving attention that was rare for her gender, and yet not have the decency to appreciate her life. Her veil was a shackle. She burned everything she ever cooked. Women's talk bored her.

To choose a path beyond the beaten track is to be eternally in limbo. It is dangerous yet filled with opportunities, and one must not be afraid of vertigo. Djaq had no social laws to guide her through the life she led, and in that she was forever lonely. The equation that was her world was difficult enough without love to complicate things. She had mentally prepared herself for a life in solitude, and then came this. Allan-a-Dale. The man who did everything wrong, even when he acted with the very best intentions. The one who thought stumbling blindly through life was a fair enough option as long as you got anywhere. The one who had excuses for everything, a tale for every occasion. Who lied with such ease and so often that he got lost in the maze of half-truths, distorted realities and plain deception. She sometimes wondered if he knew himself the depth of his mistakes, what it did to those who cared for him. It seemed so aimless, a purposeless life gone astray. He hid his pain behind a smile and a joke, and when he failed to charm his way out of a tricky situation he did what he had to. Sometimes he ran. Sometimes he lied. Sometimes he betrayed everything that he was. In the world of Allan-a-Dale that didn't seem so bad; he wasn't all that much anyway.

It is always a problem to love a man who doesn't love himself. To believe in someone who doesn't believe in himself. To trust in someone who himself trusts in no one. She had to love for two, believe for two, trust enough for two people. He expected her to save him because he couldn't save himself, and it was her curse to love him too much to not be able to turn away. Instead he dragged her down with him and he was notoriously bad at predicting the consequences of his actions.

She could still feel Allan's arms around her as the cart with Marian disappeared down the street. This might be all that remained of her life. Allan-a-Dale. Her world. She had been left with the choice of watching him fall in solitude or jump after in a vain attempt to help him rise. So she jumped. In spite of her better judgement. In spite of always priding herself in being logical and collected. In spite of the price she knew she'd have to pay, she jumped. Now they were in this together, walking through the hell that Allan had shrugged and lied and stumbled his way into.

Djaq shut her eyes and tried not to sigh. Moments went past and there was nothing but Allan's breathing and the heat from his body close to hers. Finally she felt him tense and he let go of her, moving his hand up to her shoulder to shuffle her back into the shadows behind him.

"Guy," he hissed and nodded down the street. "Wait in my room alright. I'll deal with 'im."

Djaq hesitated for a while, then turned her back to Allan and decided to do as he asked. Following orders was the easiest thing in the world after all, a simple denial of the self and the freedom that comes with not having to make a choice. She went through the smoky main room of the ale house, nodded absently at Jess Littlelamb and shut out the slurred comments from the drunken guests as she passed. Her steps were heavy and tired up the stairs. She didn't like sending Marian travelling when she was so unwell. She didn't like leaving Allan on the street to wiggle his way out of another sticky conversation with Guy. And she certainly didn't like to face Will's reaction to the recent events on her own. Yet she had to do all those things because that was the reality of this day.

Will was standing by the window as she made her way into the room. In the back yard Jess's niece was hanging another load of newly washed linen to dry and Will stared at her silent, effective labour, hands that moved swiftly over chores that were as natural to her as breathing. When Djaq entered he turned to her, greeting the Saracen woman with a cold, detached glare. A couple of cautious moments passed between them in awkward silence before the young man chose to speak.

"So," Will stretched his lips into a heartless smile. "You and Allan."

"Yes," Djaq agreed warily. She did not like the way Will looked, his face a picture of stifling bitterness and his movements tense and restrained. He nodded dejectedly and gave out a hoarse laughter as he grabbed a worm-eaten apple from the table.

"Good, looks like he needs a housewife..." He mumbled and turned to watch the dishevelled bed where the sheets still had some deep red stains. "Tell me Djaq," he scoffed in a scarily light voice. "Did you bleed in this bed as well?"

"Will…"

"… Not? Well he must do something right I guess… I have to say it was rather unexpected. I thought higher of you, I really did... Tell me did you laugh at me in this room? Will, the fool, he doesn't have a clue…"

"Please don't do this Will!"

"Why?!" Will yelled and took a swift step towards Djaq. "Why?! Why don't do this Will? Why not don't do this Djaq? Why not don't be a fool Djaq!? You are the fool are you not? You made the mistake…"

"It is not so simple…" Is it not? The memory of two warm arms cradling her in the street and some whispered words that made her smile and smile came to Djaq's mind. It had seemed simple enough only minutes ago, not a mistake but a sensation that wouldn't be neglected.

"Listen to yourself!" Will snorted. "You even sound like him…"

Will went over to the window, a bitter smile lingering on his lips as he got lost in his own vengeful thoughts. Djaq watched him guardedly, saw the tension build up under the surface as he clenched his hand so hard the knuckles went white. Then he turned towards her and his eyes stared at the Saracen woman with so much resentment it made her flinch and shy away as if he had punched her. He opened his mouth and breathed heavily as he searched frantically for the right words.

"Allan-a-Dale," he finally scoffed. "Everything, everything, he touches dies or withers and now he has touched you!!!" He spat out the words at her. Hard, accusing words, words intended to hurt, to do as much damage as possible. Djaq shut her eyes, wishing she was a child who stills believed the person before her disappears when you can't see him, but she knew that wasn't true. She felt nauseous, angry, upset, pitiful… In a moment of despair she found herself wishing she hadn't hurt him, longed after a reality where it was he that she loved simply because it would have been so much simpler. Then in the next moment she was taken aback by a sudden change in her temper as she hated him for being so very cruel. With a sigh she swallowed the rage she felt over the words he spoke about Allan, told herself that it was pain talking and pain was never rational.

"Robin told me to keep an eye on you…" Will hissed, his voice trembling from subdued tears and fury. "Little did he know what he did… Little did he know how much I love you and how much I hate Allan! Your lover, your lover Djaq! What do you see in him? A traitor, Djaq, he betrayed us all! Me, silly little Will Scarlett, I followed all the rules… I did everything right. I respected you, cared for you, I listened when you cried… Don't give me that look - I would have listened had you been wise enough to cry in front of me. Problems can be overcome if you acknowledge them but you chose to hide them and cave in to this… to this… lust. I never stole a penny that belonged to the poor, people starve and he betrays everyone for a few pennies! All that… All that Djaq, and you still loved him more… You will always love him more!!!"

Djaq swallowed back the tears. What could she say? Nothing she said could ever make things easy for him. Sure she could chose to pretend; be the carpenter's wife, have his children, share his bed… Live a comfortable lie as so many had done before her, and it would be a good life but she would always know. She wasn't Allan-a-Dale - she couldn't believe her own lies so much that they became true. It was a cold fact that she loved this boy, but only as a brother and a friend. There were no good reasons, no logic in this to make him see sense. There was no sense. She loved Allan because she loved him. Because love is its own reason and cause. God knows she had cursed the feelings at times and prayed to Allah to make them go away. Yet they stayed, and grew in his absence as well as in his presence.

"Yes," she finally said with a dejected, remorseful look in her face. "I love him more… I'm sorry."

"Sorry is just a word…" Will burst out. "It means less than the breath it takes to utter it."

"That is not true!"

"No? How many times did Allan say he's sorry before he had you fooled? Tell me, when he betrays you for a serving wench will you forgive him then? What about when he comes home in the middle of the night dunk beyond his wits? Or when he wastes all your money on gambling… or women… or ale?"

"Allan would not do that."

Will snorted. "He'd sell his soul for a handful coins! I wonder if he counts your value in copper or silver… What do you think?" He stared at her with that cold smile still curving his lips into a disgusted scowl.

"Silver," Djaq murmured in a resigned sigh. She was so sick of this. Will's words hurt because they carried grains of reality and yet she couldn't believe Allan to be that bad. To love someone is to choose to trust in him, and she trusted in Allan even though she knew him to be flawed, sometimes even because she knew him to be flawed.

"Would you deny then that I'm the better man?" Will frowned in an atypical fit of self-assertion. He was a young man trying to make sense out of a senseless reality, and every attempt to compare himself to Allan ended with the highest score to Will himself. So how did Allan win? When Will held every battle in his palm, when he had the better resources, the bigger force, stronger and more skilful?

Djaq nodded at him and smiled sadly. "You are the better man," she acknowledged wearily. "And some day there will be someone for you. Someone who deserves you. But that is not me…"

There was a sound of a floorboard creaking and Djaq spun around so swiftly she temporarily lost balance. Allan had one of his innocent slightly puzzled expressions and stood hesitant in the doorway, not sure weather to stay or go.

"Allan!" Djaq smiled nervously. The words 'You are the better man' appeared in her head and she tried not to cringe as she scanned Allan's face for any sign of sadness. It was difficult to see in him, he always seemed so forlorn and lost that sadness was merely another shade under the cheeky grin to those who knew him well. "How long have you been standing here?" she asked softly. Will gave out a sarcastic snorting laughter behind her back.

"Well… Not long mind you," Allan shrugged. "I didn't spy or anything… Look, I spoke to Giz right? Apparently Lady M 'as gone missing or whatever. He wants me to look for her…" Allan grinned at the two outlaws, never one to let a good joke pass, and Djaq gave him a twitchy smile.

"What will you do?" she asked.

"Well I'll go looking for her won't I? A little turn around the town… And you could come with me Djaqie, if you want."

"Djaqie?!" Will laughed mockingly. "How charming…"

"And you too Will! Obviously…"

"Pass," Will hissed mockingly in a plain disgust that he didn't bother to hide.

"Alright, stay here and mope then," Allan mumbled under his breath and smilingly reached out a hand for Djaq. She hesitated. It was such a tense strange situation, yet Will had to get used to her and Allan eventually. With a tingle in her stomach she went up to Allan and grabbed his hand, a gesture that felt alien to both of them yet in the same time symbolic. Their hands locked in each other, fingers entwined, a man and a woman walking as one… They were not usually people to hold hands but the act displayed a bond to the world so they held on.

Allan smiled at Will as they left him in the room, a friendly grin that was met with a hostile glare. Djaq could feel that Allan was tense and upset yet that never showed in his demeanour, and she pressed his hand reassuringly. As soon as they were out of sight she reached up to give him a light kiss on the unshaved cheek and he let go of her hand to hold her tightly around the waist instead. So they went out into the town to hunt for a woman they knew where to find had they actually cared to find her in the first place. This was a charade and nothing else, and all in all Allan-a-Dale had always been a master of pretence. He was only glad to finally be deceiving the right side again, and in spite of all the drama and tragedy there was hope in his chest. With all the horror this world holds it had always been the prerogative of humanity to keep hope alive, even in times when it defies all logic. Djaq loved him. Djaq loved him. Surely there was still hope for a world where love could find its way even to the fallen…

-----

He had stopped trying to understand it. In the end you couldn't understand malice if you did not have it in you. For Will that meant everything the sheriff did was a mystery. It also meant that this story betweenAllan et Djaq was a mystery. He could not understand it so he explained it away with a single word. One that he put as a label on everything that was wrong in the world. It was evil.

The sheriff was evil. Guy of Gisbourne was evil. And even though Allan wasn't evil, Will had seen enough to know that he had some kind of humanity in him, his love for Djaq was evil. Pure evil. It was evil because it stole her away, dragged her down into a hole. It made her unhappy, or it would make her unhappy in time. So even though Allan did not love her out of spite the dungeon of his affection would be her downfall. How could Will simply stand by and watch Djaq's life get destroyed? He could not let Allan do that. And that was why Will would have to be Allan's Nemesis.

Curing this scarred world was a chore that required sacrifice. Will was gazing out through the window again as his mind worked feverishly to put the random pieces of his plan together. Somewhere in this unhappy city Allan and Djaq was walking side by side in a parody of joy born out of their tainted love. If Allan really loved Djaq then he would simply let her go. But he was not a man that understood sacrifice any more than Will understood malice. The linen sheets on the back yard were moving in the breeze like dancing ghosts of the fading day and smoke rose form the chimneys of Nottingham town. Will was young enough to still carry the entire world on his conscience, not yet ready to compromise and be selective in the battles he choose to fight. This world was wrong and needed saving. Men like the sheriff had to be defeated. Men like Allan-a-Dale needed to be rendered harmless...

It was getting cold outside so he shut the window shutters and lighted a big wax candle. He knew that Guy must be looking frantically for Marian by now, the woman who would die as a direct result of Allan's recklessness. Guy's love for Marian was tainted just like Allan's love for Djaq, and it destroyed everything that was pure in the world. But unlike Djaq Marian was beyond salvation, this world had already cut her down. It was immoral what he prepared to do and he knew it but sometimes 'moral' just wasn't the same as 'right'. There was some sort of retribution for the world in the fact that one tainted love story would prevent another. Things evened out and regained balance.

With a bitter smile Will found Marian's bloody clothes still discarded in the room. She had borrowed a dress from Jess and it suited him well. Yet it wouldn't be quite enough. He looked around then remembered the tag he had around his neck, lifted it over his head and put it in a box on the bedside table. There were papers and ink in there, odd considering Allan was illiterate. How did illiterate people write notes? Then he saw a row of numbers and signs and smiled amused as he realised that Allan was keeping registers over his incomes. He mused a bit over how he would be able to use this fact, them he grinned and took out a clean sheet of paper. He made a new list and painted a little bird by some of the numbers, then he rummaged trough the drawer for any sign of the coins. Finally he found them tucked in under the bed's mattress and removed the number of coins that had a bird painted between them. Guy was astute enough to understand that sign, he felt sure of it. A bird – a robin – money for Robin.

Will scanned the room again and wondered absently what more he needed for this setup. Ropes? A gag? He twitched as he saw a familiar item discarded by Marian's clothes. The Nightwatchman's mask.Brilliant. He took it up and put it in a sack together with a scarf and a cloak, shuffling it in under the bed.

Marian's bloody clothes. The tag. Money for Robin. The Nightwatchman's gear. Now all Will had to do was get the word to Gisbourne that Allan was a traitor no matter what side he was playing on. He sat down by the table, shuffled everything aside to make room and took out another sheet of paper. He wasn't good at writing but he could manage well enough.

Ser Guy off Gisborn,

Will chewed at his bottom lip and frowned as the studied the first sentence. There were plumps of ink staining the paper from the dripping feather-pen and he lifted it before the entire page was destroyed. How should he put this? 'Lady Marian had been kidnapped'? No, it was better to assume that Guy already knew that she was kidnapped. He squinted at the page before he shrugged and finished the short letter:

Conserning Ladi Marians kiddnapping,

Der is word in Town, dey say Alan a Dale has a tag.

Lokk at de Blak Shep.

God bles,

a frend

Will gave the note a sceptical look. He had a feeling it wouldn't impress anyone but it was safer than meeting Gisbourne face to face and tell him up front. This way he only had to get the note to him and then the wheels would be in motion. Those wheels that would destroy Allan once and for all, making sure he couldn't do any more harm... Will felt a strange tingle of remorse in his stomach and gave the room around him a steady look. It was so very Allan. Untidy and chaotic, Much had always fumed over Allan's complete lack of order but Allan simply grinned innocently over the accusations. It had been fun to have Allan in the camp. In a way he had treated Will like a brother, took care of him in his own strange way. He always had a story to tell by the fire place. He lightened the mood and cheered people up and he was a master when it came to tricky plans.

But all that was simply who Allan used to be. He had destroyed all that when he deliberately betrayed them. These days he was a dangerous man, one that had been given a chance to be a better person and failed miserably. Will would cry the day Allan-a-Dale was hanged. He would cry over the man that had been lost before he was born, the man Allan could have become had he only been stronger. But Will would smile as well. He would smile because they would be free, finally free, to live a life without Allan's shadow hanging over them.

With a final nod at the room Will took the letter and left the final lodgings of Allan-a-Dale. It was time to find Gisbourne and put an end to this sordid story once and for all...