The Sheriff paced around his study, hand stroking his beard in thought. Robin Hood was only gaining popularity amongst the people, and the ledgers were only a reminder how desperately he needed this problem solved. And soon. So he pulled together what coin he had remaining to hire what was surely the only option left. The hideous gray pale face and black horsehide clothing of one Guy of Gisborne graced the hall of the Sheriff's estate. The ladies maids cowered behind posts from his wandering eyes, and even the guards seemed uneasy in the presence of this beast of a man, though perhaps he was more man than beast.

"I hears you got work for me. Someone needs a'killin," Guy said. His voice was like that of gravel crunching under horse hooves. His great nose protruded out from under a cap of leather so scuffed it seemed in tatters.

"That I do," the Sheriff leaned over the table which separated him from the infamous cutthroat, "Robin Hood."

"Oh I's heard of 'im. They says he runs with friends in the woods. Friends makes things harder," he rubbed his fingers together, "more expensive."

"We'll negotiate pay after you bring me his head."

"I always gets paid in advance," Guy snipped, his voice taking on a dark and deadly tone. The Sheriff threw one gold coin on the table, where it spun before settling onto the wood.

"Consider that your advance. You get the rest when Hood is dead. I'm not losing money to someone who might fail like all the rest."

"I never fails. You'll be gettin' his 'ead alright Master Sheriff sir. Just you wait and see."

A grisled hand came forward to pluck the coin from the table before turning and walking out of the hall, bringing the dark shadow of his presence with him, leaving only an air of terror in his wake.

The deer was beautiful, a doe, long and graceful illuminated by the sunshine cast between the leaves of the ash trees. It's head was down to drink from a creek which flowed through the forest floor. Sorry Bambi Danika thought as she pulled the bow back. A girl's gotta eat. Suddenly the doe took off as if it had been struck by lightning. Danika had heard nothing. Relaxing the bow and looking around, Danika could see nothing but greenery on all sides. There was nothing. But something had clearly frightened the doe.

Out of nowhere she felt a stone the size of her fist make contact with her stomach, sending her careening from her perch on a low branch. Landing on her back, the wind was knocked clean out of her chest. Coughing, she rolled to her hands and knees before the kick of a black boot sent her tumbling onto her side again. A gnarled hand on her collar hauled her to her feet and held her against the tree.

"Who'da thought? Robin 'ood, a girl?"

The face of an ugly man leaned in and Danika instinctively recoiled. Everything from his face to his voice and his smell was repulsive.

"Who says I'm Robin Hood?"

"Who else was gonna shoot a deer from so far, eh? No, you are Robin 'ood, which means I'll be takin' your 'ead to the Sheriff. Although it might just be worth waiting a few minutes."

Danika gulped. Wrapping both hands around the thick wrist which held her shirt, she kicked out with a leg and rotated under his arm. But Guy of Gisborne did not let go. He turned, pulling her shirt and her forward, his other hand coming up to box her ear. Keeping low she lunged forward to get him off balance and then she struck the bottom of his chin with the heel of her hand. His head snapped back and he released her. She turned to run, but he recovered too quickly and pulling a knife from his belt, he threw it and it lodged in her thigh. She went down rolling into the leaves which covered the soft ground of Sherwood forest. With a growl of pain, she yanked the blade from her leg, which began to bleed profusely, but not enough to kill her.

"You are only gonna bleed out faster now, little Robin. That is gonna ruin my fun."

"One would think," she said to herself more than to him.

At least Ivar was a composed madman. This guy was just creepy. And he was getting closer. Standing onto her good leg, she held her new acquired knife in her hand, the handle a bit slick with blood.

"Oh you wants to play with knives?" he pulled another from his belt, "alright little Robin girl. Let's play."

Danika had years of training and over a century of practice, but this man was crude and brutal. Though she surely must have delivered a great number of cuts to him, he landed at least a few on her. The thick horsehide of his clothing made cutting his flesh particularly difficult, and her knife was slippery with blood from her leg.

"Robin!" a call came from not far off. The red shirt confirmed it as Will Scarlet, the youngest of the men. Will quickly ascertained the situation at hand. Guy turned and spotted the young lad. Danika could hold her own against Gisborne, but a boy like Will stood no chance.

"Scarlet, go get help!" Danika yelled before throwing herself onto Guy's back in a choke hold, giving Will time to scramble back further into the trees. Guy plunged his knife into her arm before throwing her over his head. Again she pulled out the knife. Some of her muscles were compromised and she was still working on one good leg. But she kept her hands up and focused on her breath, keeping it level. A fight is a fight is a fight.

"No more knives for you birdy. I'm gonna wring your neck like the Robin you are."

"You are welcome to try."

Will Scarlet came hurdling into camp, yelling at the top of his lungs. Hvitserk was parsing out the gold into smaller bags to be distributed, but Will's ruckus caused one of them to spill. He tried to catch it but the bag fell, scattering coins everywhere. He made a noise of annoyance as now he had to count them again as they mixed with the coins yet to be counted.

"Will, what are you on about?" Alan whined, unhappy to be woken from his afternoon nap.

"It's Robin! She's under attack! West of here, there's a man covered in dark hides! We have to go!"

Leaving the coins where they lay, Hvitserk leapt to his feet and gathered his weapons, the other men doing the same. Hopefully Danika left something for him to fight by the time he got there. She liked her fights short and that meant that every time he showed up she was standing over an unconscious, or sometimes dead, body and asking "What took you so long?"

They could hear the thumps and hits before they could see them. Hvitserk with a few decisive gestures sent the men out into a crescent position. Whoever was attacking they would push them to them away from the road and further into the trees where the Merry Men were at their best. Hvitserk had his axe, having no time to grab his swords and he held it at the ready, stalking forward towards the man in black. Danika was bloodied, but she was still alive. The look of her alone, balanced on one leg, sleeve soaked red, was enough to make his blood boil. He began to run closer, his great size giving away his location. But that was okay. The other men were still hidden.

"Hey!"

Guy of Gisborne turned at the shout to see a tall tree of a man approaching with an axe the length of his arm. Bad news then. Merry Men don't travel alone, especially not after that little boy went running. Killing Robin here was no longer becoming an option. Even if he did kill her here he wouldn't live long enough to bring the head to the Sheriff and dead men can't collect pay. With a shout the other men began to appear on all sides. Instead of going for an attack, he unwound a large net from around his waist and he threw it over the young woman. She had not been expecting it. She thrashed and reached through the net to grab at a knife which lay on the forest floor to cut herself free, but he began dragging her away and she did not manage to grab it. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, and began to jog back to his cart on the road. He charged through the line of her men, but they quickly began to give chase. Guy of Gisborne was short with a barrel chest. Hvitserk would beat him in a foot race any day of the week, and Guy had the added disadvantage of a very unhappy passenger. But the distance was short and he had a head start.

Net and all he threw Danika into the iron cage which comprised the rear of his cart. This clearly pleased her even less. Catching up, Hvitserk swung his axe into the lock. But Hvitserk's axe was 200 years too late in the game of metallurgy. It was good for cutting down people, but not metal. Jumping onto the seat, Guy whipped the horse to a gallop and while it is possible for Hvitserk to potentially outlast a running horse, he could not outpace it. Hvitserk and the men could only watch as Guy of Gisborne rode off towards Nottingham with Robin Hood in tow.

Angry as they returned to camp, Hvitserk threw his axe, burying the head of it into the trunk of a tree. As all eyes were in the fuming Little John, no one was the axe sparkle as the edge reformed after its encounter with the cage.

"Little John, we will rescue her," Much reassured, setting a hand on Hvitserk's shoulder.

"We aren't going to leave her there," Alan confirmed. Ever the dramatic one, Will seemed less optimistic.

"She could already be dead for all we know."

"Oi, how many times did she save your life and now you don't want to return the favor? She might as well be your aunt for how much she's raised you." Arthur chimed in. Will Scarlet's face turned more scarlet than his shirt.

"I was 17 when she met me!"

"Yes," Alan poked him, "and look at you now, you can now eat with a fork and knife and speak in full sentences."

"Enough!" Hvitserk interrupted, "we are getting distracted. If we are going to rescue her, we need a plan!" Goodness, he felt like Ivar. He had some rather Ivar-like ideas in mind for the man in black who captured Danika. The blood eagle had not been performed in England in a century. Perhaps he would change that.

"Well it will be best to try and rescue her before she reaches the estate. Once she's in things will get a lot more difficult for us," Much suggested.

"At the pace he was going he could reach Nottingham in a matter of hours. That window is closing and we won't catch up before he makes it there," Arthur shot that idea down. With a frown, Much spit on the ground at the mention of Nottingham.

"So it becomes a question of getting in. Will, you are from Nottingham, is there a way?" Hvitserk cleared a space on the ground, exposing the fine, dusty earth beneath. Grabbing a twig, Will drew an oblong circle and drew a large rectangle inside it, a crude model of Nottingham. A series of lines representing roads wound out around the rectangle. Pointing with the stick, Alan picked out a small gate.

"Here is where food merchants come in and out to deliver food to the estate. My mum supplied the Sheriff's household with strawberries and would take this road to avoid the busy market streets. Guards even escort them so that hungry people don't go grabbing food off the carts."

"So what we need to be is a food merchant." Hvitserk folded his hands in front of his face.

"Well we can't all be food merchants," Much brought up.

"No, some of us can be soldiers."

"And how do you expect us to do that?" Much asked. Arthur smacked the back of his head.

"By stealing uniforms you dolt."

"Don't we have some uniforms?" Alan questioned. Will nodded, "Yes, but they have changed them over ever since they figured out that was how we robbed the treasury last summer."

"Well then, we will just have to get some new ones," Hvitserk thought out loud.

So it happened, Alan and Will ended up being the food merchants. Little John was too much of a giant, and would draw too many eyes. So he was curled up in the cart under sackcloth to minimize his great height. Instead of strawberries, they had a cart full of meat. They had hunted down the doe and caught some live pigeons. Now they just needed to get in the door.

The cart pulled to a stop at the gate and the soldiers began to poke around the cart. Seizing the moment, Hvitserk jumped out of the cart, knocking the first of three men on the head, knocking him out in one blow. Alan and Will in front helped to handle the other two, and then Much and Arthur ran out from their waiting place in the trees.

"This one's a skinny one," Much complained, wiggling his broad shoulders into the uniform.

"Maybe if you didn't eat so much it would fit better," Alan jested, keeping watch from the top of the cart.

"Little John eats twice what I do and he's practically a stick!" Much shot back. Arthur just rolled his eyes and silently put on the uniform. Hvitserk also put on the uniform, although the tunic was on the shorter side, he was hoping no one would notice.

"Maybe it's because he gets more exercise." Arthur was struggling to buckle all the metal plates together. Like girls doing their hair, the men assisted one another in tying, buckling and affixing the many metal plates together. In the end, they looked like a bunch of silver, clanking, statues.

"How do the rich folk fight wearing this? It's heavy!" Arthur had to keep working to keep his spear upright as they marched into the city, escorting Alan and Will with the cart towards the Sheriff's estate. Hvitserk had to agree. His viking armor was feather light and allowed him full use of his arms and legs. Everything Danika had taught him about being quiet and sneaky was all for naught as long has he was a veritable walking church bell. He dearly hoped that this armor fell out of style. Although what he had heard from Danika about the metal-obsessed future did not raise his hopes all that high.

"Something feels off," Will said, setting everyone immediately on edge, "the gate guards are never in full plate unless there's a ceremony of sorts."

"He's right," Alan said, "something's afoot."

They were about to turn left onto another road, but they were cut off by a well furnished wagon, with a fabric roof made of rich red fabric. Soldiers on horses rode on all sides and horns cleared the road as it went though. From the front of the parade, a soldier announced the visitor.

"Make way for Prince John! Make way for the Prince of England!"

"Well this complicates things," Alan astutely put it.

The cart wheeled up to the servant's entrance near the kitchen, where the household's cook came out to assess what would be needed. He took everything, and the housekeeper paid them, well under its worth, for all the meat.

"Busy night, eh?" Allan plied the cook, while servants and kitchen maids came to pull all the animals off the cart.

"Like none other. What with the prince appearing outta nowhere. He was on his way south but he's stopping over in Nottingham to see the sentencing of-" the cook leaned in whisper and Alan leaned down, "Robin Hood."

"My. Now that does sound exciting. Did they really get him? Robin Hood?"

"Aye. A real ugly fellow rolled up with a cage covered in cloth, said Robin Hood was inside. Word round the house is that the Sheriff is waiting to do a big reveal at dinner. Cage is sitting in the hall, waiting, all covered up. But you didn't hear it from me." The cook looked both ways and tapped a finger to his nose. Alan returned in kind.

"She's in the hall," Alan reported quietly as the last of the meat was unloaded from the cart.

"Spares us having to break into the jails," Much said.

"But good luck getting into the great hall when a prince is in town," Arthur commented in turn.

"Cook, friend, could we trouble you for some simple fare? We've driven all the way from Radcliffe on Trent." Will with his angelic baby face was excellent at asking for things. The cook smiled and gestured that they come inside to the kitchen. It also helped that Will knew the cook. But neither of them would ever admit to that.

The fraudulent meat sellers and their accompanying soldiers made their way into the kitchen. For Alan and Will, they just needed to wait in the kitchen and bide their time until the grand escape was to take place. As for the soldiers, they needed to make their way through the castle, and find a way to release Danika, all without getting caught. No sweat. Moving up from the servant's spaces to the public dones, they clanged through the halls in search of the hall.

"Much stand next to me. Arthur, stand behind but between us," Hvitserk commanded.

"Why?"

"It is what soldiers do. We need to look like we belong here or we will get caught."

"How would you know?" Much's mouth would get him in trouble until the day he died.

"Is now the time for questions?"

"S'pose not."

The two men fell in and continued to tromp further into the household. A higher ranking officer stopped them just before reaching the hall, and Hvitserk hissed at the other two to keep their damn mouths shut. The commander put up a hand and Hvitserk pulled to a halt and stood to attention, lance pointing straight up. The other two imitated him, assuming that Little John had to know what he was doing.

"You three, where have you been assigned for tonight? I don't remember sending men to this hallway."

"The great hall, sir, extra security," Hvitserk responded.

"On the prisoner? Who ordered that?"

"The prince, sir. They want to take no chances."

"What an insult, not thinking we can keep order in Nottingham of all places."

"I don't make the orders, sir, I follow them."

"Ah well, that's right that is. Head on in and hopefully you won't need to do anything."

"Isn't that what all soldiers hope, sir?"

The commander chuckled. "One could say that."

He left them and the trio walked into the great hall which was thankfully empty save for a cloth covered box sitting right in the middle. Hvitserk motioned for the other two to guard the door. He approached the box and pulled the cloth off. Inside was Danika, no longer wrapped in a net, still bloody, but no longer bleeding. She looked to be asleep or unconscious, he wasn't sure. He spotted a mace on the wall. Grabbing it he struck the lock of the cage full force. It was loud, but hopefully they wouldn't be there long enough for it to matter. The lock broke and he opened the cage. Reaching in he grabbed Danika's ankle and pulled her out. Once she was on the floor, he reached down to touch her face.

She grabbed his arm, twisted it up, tucked in her knees and with a strong kick sent him flying onto his back. Much and Arthur turned in shock. The clatter of armor echoed through the hall and surely the rest of the house. She was kneeling on his chest and was about to strike a blow to his throat.

"Wait wait wait! Ӧrlӧg mín!" he said in Norse and put out his hands to stop her from finding all the holes in the armor to kill him with.

She stayed her hand and tilted her head. "Hvitserk?"

"Did you think I wouldn't come for you?"

"Didn't think you'd use a disguise. It never seemed your way. Not the Viking way."

"Who else was going to break you out?"

"Gisborne knows I'm a woman, I don't know who he told. Soldiers do stupid things."

"Did any?"

"No."

"Good. I came for a rescue, not revenge."

"But revenge is fun."

She pulled off his helmet and dropped a kiss into his nose. Much and his big mouth spoiled the moment.

"I don't know what language you two are using but we have company coming!"

"You couldn't pick a quieter method to handle the lock?" Danika got off of Hvitserk and grabbed the mace off the floor.

"I was hoping to be gone by the time they came to investigate. You're the one who made this noisy armor summon everyone for a mile."

"Well now is your chance to be my knight in shining armor, dearest."

"I am in this ridiculous armor only because-"

"Nevermind! I'll explain later. Is there an easy way out of here?"

"Since when do you ever like it easy?"

"Stop flirting and think of a way out of here!" Much called over his shoulder as he ran his spear through the door handles. Danika could see a few ways, but she needed routes that Arthur and Much could take as well as her and Hvitserk. The spear in the door splintered and men came rushing in, including the Sheriff and in the rear, she could see the livery of the Prince. Keeping her head down to hide her femininity, she pulled her boys back several paces. Grabbing a knife from Arthur, she threw it off to the right, severing the rope which held up the iron, candle lit chandelier. It crashed down upon the first wave of soldiers, just barely missing the Sheriff.

"Seize them!" he yelled, shoving soldiers further into the hall, where they picked around the fallen bodies of those who fell victim to the chandelier.

"No time to waste lads, we best get going." Danika grabbed the remaining rope from the chandelier and threw her mace at the large window behind the raised table, which broke spectacularly one might add. Handing Arthur the rope, she all but shoved him out the window. Much followed suit, and then Hvitserk. Fending off the first of the oncoming men with ease, Danika bowed and made her exit.

"Cut the rope!" the exasperated Sheriff yelled even louder. A sword descended on the rope and its free end skittered across the floor like a snake before vanishing out the broken window. The rope was cut before Danika was all the way down, but she was caught by a group of men in armor on the ground who were waiting in a cart. With a whinny and a wave, the cart took off. They had almost made it to the gates when a man in black horsehide stepped in front of the horse, making it rear up in fear. Guy of Gisborne. Danika stepped out from under the cover of the sackcloth and looked him dead in the cold dead eyes.

"Clever Robin, but I still gets paid if I kills ya. And I beat you once."

"Beginner's luck."

"Robin are you sure you wanna fight him again? You looked in a bad way last time, hell you're still covered in blood." Will asked, grabbing her arm as if he had a hare's hope of keeping her there.

"If you think she changes her mind about such things-" Hvitserk started.

Danika leapt out of the cart, landing on two good legs, though her left was still a bit stiff. Hvitserk tossed her a sword and sat by to enjoy the show.

"Time for a rematch, bitch."

Gisborne pulled out a knife and charged in, but she danced around him, now that the ground was flat and unmarred by stones and roots. She delivered a slice to his side, pushing extra hard to cut through the horsehide. Despite the pain, he clamped his arm down on the blade and tried to come in from the side with his knife, but she was taller than him and a kick to his shoulder ruined his strike. She twisted the sword and pulled, cutting his arm and his side even further. With her foot she kicked him back so he fell down. Once he was down the fight was all but one. She descended on him and though he made a last ditch effort with his knife, she caught his arm and with a twist 'n' pop she dislocated his shoulder, and in short order skewered his neck with her sword.

Leaving the sword stuck through his neck and into the ground, she hopped back into the cart which was encouraged to a gallop, as soldiers who had been in the castle were now swarming into the streets.

"Was that wise, killing him? We don't want to break history" Hvitserk asked.

"Robin Hood notoriously kills Guy of Gisborne. Let's call it fulfilling history."

Much like Robin Hood himself, there is little historicity regarding Sir Guy of Gisborne, which gave me a lot of creative liberty. Chandeliers began their use in churches in the ninth century before making their way into castles and such, so it is plausible to see one here.

SONG! Danika and her Merry Men: Oak and Ash and Thorn by the Longest Johns

I'm at a bit of a crossroads about how I want this story to go, even though I have several events planned out. Based on reviews from the early chapters, people really like that style but I'm finding that style unsustainable give the amount of time I need to cover. I'm playing with a montage-y one shot series sort of thing, but then I'm worried you guys won't see the character development, or you'll feel like things are getting too OOC. Even if you consider the story done after they leave Kattegat, I hope I gave you a good story.

What do you want to see more of?

I know I took a big risk picking one character and essentially removing them from the fandom's setting, but I think Hvitserk deserved a lil love, especially away from his brothers. Throughout the whole series, his brothers have defined him and I think he deserved better. He's not perfect, but I think he always was trying to make the best decisions to benefit the people around him, without needing to be the one. He didn't try to be the one like Bjorn or Ivar. He isn't passive like Ubbe, he has some spine. But unlike Sigurd, he isn't jaded, and he still sees happiness and beauty in the world. He laughs. I chose him for those reasons among others, and because I needed a character I could remove from the timeline without screwing it up too much. In short, I think Hvitserk is underappreciated, and I want to do him justice.

Wow, sorry about that, you caught me monologue-ing.