Robin sighed somewhat contently as he re-entered his new 'room'.
His body was still quite wet from the dive, his clothes having assisted him only a little in drying off. His hair was still moist, and uncomfortably cold droplets still fell from the ends, mostly into his collar, he shook his head once inside so more dews of water would leave his dirty blonde mane.
He had to admit that it had been at least mildly satisfying; the very idea of going to sleep without taking care of the painful bulge on his pants was quite simply inconceivable. Although he would much rather that his coming resulted from another's hand as opposed to his own.
That damned woman, Robin still did not know just how he felt about her, all he could account for was that the feeling was strong, her manner rather demanded intensity. She had looked at him in such a way that he had actually believed, for a split second, that she would give him a hand in his situation. But then she had simply left, leaving behind only smoke and his hard, unsucked cock.
Of course, he had taken no reservations in imagining the Queen deprived of any clothing whilst he pumped said hard cock. Images of her on her knees - yes that had been a wonderful position for her – whilst he fucked her mouth with vigour and absolutely no reserves, made his hand move faster and faster until her title was slipping out of his mouth before he could think of what he was uttering.
He was going to enjoy killing that pair the next day, of that Robin was absolutely sure. Not only because of the dark thrill murder gave him, but also because he was more than looking forward to claiming his reward for his services. Robin took another deep inhale of air and thought of how he had imagined the Queen, her picture perfect beauty absolutely deprived of cloth, on her hands and knees, whining and moaning as he took a fist full of black mane and rode her from behind and spanked her sorry arse for good measure, when he came to his own touch back in the small forest.
Oh yes, he was very much looking forward to collecting.
Robin sighed one last time before moving to sit on his bed – better get as much rest as possible, Gods knew he was going to need a great amount of energy the next day – in order to remove his boots. He shrugged that unbelievably hot and uncomfortable jacket off and made it to throw it on the small table in front of him but then noticed he had kicked it to pieces. He regarded the stupid piece of cloth for a beat and looked about the room in search of a place in order to discard of it, he looked back at the ugly grey jacket and Robin's eyes grew impossibly large when they caught a hint of red in it.
The pin!
Robin stared at the small, red, four ended star horrified. He could not actually believe he had forgotten about the wee artefact, since it had been the 'reason' behind the Queen's nightly visit in the first place. Still unsure if she was even on the other side, looking at him through her mirror, Robin tapped his finger to the pin a couple of times bringing it closer to his face. He felt it grow hot under his touch and quickly tossed it in reflex to the side, uttering "Shit!" in a raspy unused voice whilst making sure the pin was facing down.
Fuck, fuck, Robin's head thumped as he brought both his palms up to his face and rested his elbows on his thighs.
Had the Queen just been witness to what he had done by that blasted river?
It was not a question of decency or modesty; Robin was not ashamed of his body, nor had he any reservations as to baring it. Not at all. Quite the opposite; he knew that his looks and charm combined had gotten his bed sheets warm for many a night.
There was actually, a very large part of him – one that involved a member which might get stiff for the third time that day just at the thought of this – that found the idea of the Queen watching him most enticing.
Had she indeed seen it? He remembered faintly that he did discard of the jacket midway through his ministrations, he could not remember – why should he? – the angle the pin faced.
Had she liked it? It was quite clear that their attraction was mutual; otherwise, she would not have offered such a prize for the wee Princess' head or given him a preview of what that prize looked like not an hour ago.
Had she slid her nimble hand down her body and touched herself whilst watching him? The very idea of her out there in her cold castle, getting off to the image of him brought an indescribable chill of pleasure about his body. Robin liked that idea a lot.
His dread and hesitation resulted from the words he remembered only too well uttering whilst he performed the act, words that had not been most flattering, especially when he had been referring to the Queen.
As if on cue, a small cloud of smoke appeared on his pillow, startling Robin from his musings. When the smoke dissipated, he could see a small piece of parchment resting against the soft surface of the pillow.
Robin was rather reluctant to even moving at all after the small manifestation of magic happened. But curiosity won over and he hesitantly reached out for the small paper as if it were on fire - there was a part of Robin that was pretty sure it was going to set itself on fire as soon as he touched it.
But when his fingers came in contact with the paper it did not combust. Robin's throat was still quite constricted whilst he handled the paper carefully and brought it close enough so he could read it, but far enough so he could toss it as far as possible if it did something unexpected.
The message had been written in a beautiful cursive handwriting.
Thank you for the show
If there had been any lingering doubt if the Queen had been witness to Robin masturbating in the moonlight whilst he cried out her title and cursed her, it now dissipated into nothing. Of course she had seen it.
Robin had to wonder what she had done, from the looks of the non-flaming message, she did seem to enjoy it, and Robin got a little smug over the fact that the view had been pleasing.
He stared at the piece of paper once more, re reading it twice again until he noticed there was something scribbled on the other side. The same handwriting, but there were only two words. Two words that had even more of an effect on him than the last message.
Nice ass
Robin's eyes widened slightly and a grin started playing on the corner of his lips. That woman was truly unique; any other woman in her position would have taken great offence at what he had uttered. But not her. No, she had found it amusing. She had enjoyed the show and complimented the assets.
Bloody minx.
Robin closed his eyes and let a small laugh escape his lips as he stored the piece of parchment in his trousers' back pocket.
He went to bed that day feeling lighter than he had felt in a very long time. Which struck him as odd, since had been having heart palpitations throughout the day thanks to indecent thoughts and actions of the Queen, add in the fact that he was about to commit murder the very next day and it had all the makings of a full blown heart attack. Nevertheless, when sleep finally came to him, the final thing he saw were red lips, and he felt his own twitch into a smirk.
…
The next day, Robin arose with the sun, and for a few brief seconds he wondered if the whole business of the seductive Queen and his order to kill had been nothing but a dream. But as he became aware of the softness of where he lay and of the absence of the earthy smell of the woods, he knew it had all been true.
He was to assassinate two people. And bed the Queen as a reward.
How had he come to this?
He had once been a man of honor, someone who was willing to be an outlaw, with a fat prize on his head, for the sake of strangers in need. Had his old self ever encountered the likes of him now, they would have most probably fought to the death, and Robin cringed knowing only too well who would rise victorious. For there was no space for mercy or understanding in his blackened heart, light and color had been taken out of his life as a punishment for having wronged the one who mattered the most, the one he had never wanted to part with.
After having committed such a crime, Robin could understand how easy it was to lose oneself in the midst of darkness, since it was all that he deserved. He could see how easy it was to drown regret with whatever filled that gaping chasm where one's light should reside. Since lightness had left him, darkness was all he had been left with.
Robin had come too far to go back to the person he had once been, he could not find even a hint of reason to even try. He had done things in the past year, awful, monstrous actions, there was absolutely no coming back from them. He had taken lives from people whose names he did not even bother register for no good reason. He murdered to let out his anger and frustration, and for the mere selfish reason of feeling alive.
Before Marian had died, he had killed when there was no other way out and in order to ensure other's safety, Robin had committed murder. He had never felt good about it though, he had always secluded himself after the deed and prayed that at least his victim's soul would be redeemed.
Now, it gave him an addictive rush of pleasure but drained him of all emotions as well, making him feel hollow and numb, but alive all the same. It was quite a unique sensation; it felt like everything and nothing. Having someone's fate, someone's life in your bare hands was power.
Robin had not been able to prevent his wife and child from dying, innocent people from being ripped away from him. But those who were lesser and stupid enough to try and fight him- they had been fair game. It had been the perfect antidote for his sorrow. But the price for that medicine had been his heart, for it grew darker and darker with each passing day.
He could do it. He knew that with utmost certainty. He could cold bloodedly kill the princess and whoever was unfortunate enough to accompany her. He looked forward to feeling that rush of the kill. It had been a while since he had last taken a life, and now he knew the inevitable murder of two targets was looming, he was craving the hit that accompanied the knowledge that, because of him, there was one less person in the world – or in this case, two.
Only now, he had one other sensation that rivalled his blood lust, his craving for that mysterious rush when he took another's life. That being the shot of desire and hunger whenever his skin came in contact with the Queen's, Robin was most certain he had never felt anything like it before. What an inexplicable rush and such an intense pull, it could only be explained as raw perfect chemistry. Something that was very dangerous to take large dosages of but that Robin saw himself become extremely addicted to.
Robin came to the conclusion that this was to be a very good day.
He went downstairs to break his fast in high spirits, but to his utter annoyance, Billy and Dominic sat at the table in the common room. They had brought some bread from the nearby village they lived in as a welcome gift for him. And although Robin still felt the urge to simultaneously snap their necks, he could not help but feel a little grateful.
As he sat there eating - trying as hard as he could to mute the lively chitchat the pair of youngsters was producing - he pondered upon just how he was going to make his kill today, choosing to set aside all his feelings regarding his job – and the reward -, in order to keep his head cool so he could come up with the best possible plan.
The possibilities were endless, even with the Queen's demands. One swift one shot for the companion, and a painful and bloody mess of an end for the princess. All of which resulted in Robin having to carve up a non-beating heart from the princess' chest so it could embellish the Queen's collection. Robin had never held an actually heart on his grasp, he wondered how it would feel like and if the sensation of power was somehow heightened by it.
He would find that out in just a couple of hours.
After saying his much awaited goodbyes to his 'patrol brothers' - that's how the boys insisted on addressing each other, and unfortunately, he had now been included in yet another 'band of brothers' and it was the last thing he needed - Robin made his way to the East side of the small forest.
The smell of pinewood and earth invaded his senses and Robin found he rather missed sleeping outdoors, he had gotten used to it a long time ago and chuckled inwardly thinking of how last night had been the first night in years that he had slept on an actual bed. The forest suited him, there he found solace, no judgement and quietness and most importantly, he found solitude.
On his way, he picked up his bow and arrows, which he had concealed in the hollow of a tree after having taken care of his situation the prior evening. The memory of which – and the note – drawing a small smirk onto his lips.
He tracked the whole East road trying to create a mental map of the path the princess was to take. One could barely fit a carriage on that road, as it was surrounded by tall thin trees, the branches being so long that sometimes they crossed the road, turning themselves into wee traps for the distracted passer-by. The road came to an end at the King's final resting place.
The place spoke of grandeur and wealth, everything had been apparently made out of white marble, even the floor on the surroundings had been covered with the light coloured expensive stone. The grand mausoleum was the size of a large house, all that extravagant structure to house but one dead meaningless body that was to rot like every single corpse did.
This had been one of the main reasons why Robin had turned against nobility when he was younger. Why he had chosen to steal from them and give to the ones who really had need of it. Kings would raise taxes and rob good, honest people out of their hard-earned gold in order to build extravagant buildings such as this.
And what for? So it could house one dead person, a single rotting body who had absolutely no use of it, when the gold used to build the whole damn thing could have been much better used in providing for the people who paid for it.
Robin took a deep breath and set his prejudice aside. He had not felt that much resentment towards the wrong doings of nobles in a really long time, hadn't bothered to think about how they wasted gold and now, of all times – when he was doing the bidding of one – was not the best time to relieve those feelings.
Clearing up his mind and taking another deep breath, Robin scanned his surroundings, to make sure there was no one else there paying their respects to the late monarch. He rounded the entire mausoleum and looked around, careful not to leave a trail that was easy to track whilst he inspected the carved stone and tress about.
As Robin made his way back, he analysed the trees and the twists and turns of the road so he could find the perfect vantage point that gave him a clear view of the path and kept him hidden from prying eyes. Unfortunately, the tress were pretty thin and incapable of withstanding his weight, it was thanks to a strike of luck that Robin was able to encounter an old, grand tree, with long thick branches filled with leaves to the brim.
He smirked when he reached the foot of the tree, took a deep breath and climbed it with ease and soundlessly. He came to rest on a concealed branch about 20 feet from the ground, he carefully stored his bow right beside him as he positioned himself on the sturdy bough so he could be as motionless as he could manage.
He could see the path clearly from above, and a fairly good portion of it, if he looked at the opposite direction, Robin was able to see the top to the marble mausoleum.
The bratty princess would not catch him by surprise; he would be able to see her come a good deal of time before she approached his tree. Robin took a deep breath, becoming aware of everything around him, the little noises the animals down below made, the humming of songbirds, the gush of the wind that hit his ears and made the leaves on the tree move.
Now all he had to do was wait, and wait he did, remaining almost immobile, only the rise and fall of his chest in motion.
It did not take long for him to start hearing high-pitched voices that could only belong to the set of women he was to dispose of. Robin rotated about ninety degrees ever so slowly so he could face where the sounds were coming from, he squinted and was able to make out two figures walking his way, hand in hand, in the distance. His heart started beating faster in his chest as the adrenaline and thrill of the whole affair took over.
Regardless of his blood pressure, Robin remained stationary; he was not one to let his feelings take a hold of his actions, not in this kind of situation, plus it was not as if he had not done this before. Even though it felt as if his heart was pounding venom through his veins, he was able to remain invisible.
They came closer and Robin was able to inspect the two females. One was short, old and fat, and was wearing servant's clothes, a chaperone perhaps. Robin wondered why the princess was not in the company of a knight, but then he reminded himself, he was the one who was supposed to protect the little royal.
Tough luck, little princess
But the girl was not little at all, she was, to Robin's surprise, all grown up. Because of the way the Queen had referred to her, he had imagined she would be but a girl, maybe pesky teenager at most, but his eyes met a young woman, not a day older than his annoying 'patrol brothers'. She wore a white frock that somehow felt all wrong for the occasion, not regal enough, nor mournful at all.
Both talked amicably, blessedly ignorant of the fate that awaited them.
Robin did not feel a drop of pity for the pair, his heart had shrivelled and darkened too much for him to care for the fate of people he did not even know. Even if their fate was terrible. Which Robin knew it was going to be; he was there to ensure that.
As the pair approached, Robin reached ever so slowly for his bow, never taking his trained eyes away from them. His fingers came into contact with the wood and he brought the bow to position gently, making sure not to snap a twig.
They were close now, Robin second naturedly grabbed an arrow from his quiver and placed it to the bow. He pulled the string masterfully, watching the pair with hunter's eyes as he aimed effortlessly to the pulsating organ in the old woman's chest and inhaled. Upon a fast exhale, the arrow flew from his grasp and hit the elder lady square in the chest where her heart lay.
The arrow hit the woman with such force that she lost her balance and fell back. And when the young woman realized that her friend was no longer strolling by her side but bleeding on the ground, she screamed.
"Johanna!"
The girl was at first in shock, staring at her companion with wide eyes and crying out words Robin could not and did not care to catch. As the red started to stain her friend's chest, the girl sank to her knees next to where the other woman had fallen, and sobbed. She looked utterly helpless as she fumbled with her hands, reaching out for the elder woman, unsure of what to do. She eventually took her by the shoulders and brought her head to rest on her legs as she cradled her dying friend.
"Johanna! Please don't close your eyes-" the girl managed in between sobs, "Please don't leave me-" she then screamed as loudly as she could, much to Robin's annoyance, "HELP, SOMEBODY HELP ME!"
Robin did not move. The Queen had instructed that the girl should watch her friend perish before he was to show himself. So Robin waited ever so patiently for the old bag to draw her last breath. The elder woman made unintelligible noises as the young one pleaded for her to 'just stay alive', in between assurances of; 'help will come soon, you will be fine'. He observed as the older lady shook her head knowing she was bound to die. She then brought her hand to her chest before cupping the girl's cheek, whispering words Robin could not make out from that distance.
The tears that rolled down the girl's face came to rest on the dying woman as she took the hand that cupped her cheek into her own, squeezing it. The elder woman's lips moved once again but Robin could just make out that she would never be able to finish her sentence. Life drained from her eyes and the hand that held onto the girl's hand turned limp, slipping from its grasp as the name Johanna slid from the girl's lips one last time.
Robin jumped out of the branch and into the girl's view in a heartbeat.
One down. One to go.
The girl looked up at him, utter fear shining in her big, expressive eyes, her cheeks had been crimson due to her crying but as she laid her eyes on Robin, they became dead pale.
She gasped when she saw the bow, and added two and two together.
"Why have you done this?" she asked him with a shaky voice, still clutching the dead woman's body. "She was a good and loyal friend. Never harmed anyone."
"If you were to live another day girl, I would advise you that goodness and loyalty are customs utilized only by fools." He uttered, his tone flat and void of anything.
As the girl realized she was to be re-joining the friend she held onto tightly quite soon, her eyes grew wide as the little color that had been left in her face drained away.
"You are going to kill me." she stated in half a whisper twisting her features into a pitiful look.
Robin had to hold back a laugh at the girl's pitiful attempt to move him. She clearly did not know with whom she was dealing with.
"Yes, I am." Robin responded and pulled the dagger the Queen had insisted he used in this particular assassination from his belt.
The weapon was a fine thing, simple, not something that Robin would imagine belonged to a royal, but it was light and swift and it fit his grip perfectly. The Queen made it very clear in their first encounter that he was to use it to kill the princess and then return it to her. It had once belonged someone the princess had wronged, she had told him.
Robin took expert steps towards the girl, who quite rightly looked as if she was going to shit herself in fear.
"She sent you, didn't she?" the young woman seemed to gather enough courage to ask, the way she had articulated 'she' made it quite clear to whom she was referring to.
Her words made Robin stop on his heels to regard her for a beat and promptly reply, "Who else?"
The brat seemed to think that somehow she was going to be able to convince him not to kill her with her puppy, tear shot eyes and sweet words, "You don't have to do this." She spoke as if she was willing to give him a second chance, as if she was going to overlook everything he had done so far as long as he let her live.
The mere idea of it was pathetic and Robin chuckled at her naivetés whilst he took another step towards her, "You're right, I don't have to-" the realization that he could have said 'no' to the Queen struck him for a moment, but looking back at everything that she offered, she had made her offer irresistible, death and that maddening spark her naked body would ignite in his, "-but I want to."
His words had quite clearly terrified her, the tears streamed from her eyes and yet, she was still able to come up with words to yet again try to convince him to spare her.
"What did she promise you?" she asked and Robin almost let out an uneducated laugh at her question, her next inquiries only managed to make him want to burst out laughing more, "Whatever it was I'll give you double." The girl was seriously convinced she could somehow buy his loyalties, spoiled brat, Robin was pretty sure she was one of those sorts that got everything they desired and more.
"Triple?" she tried when he gave her no response and this time Robin could not hold back the low, dark chuckle.
"I'm certain you would not be able to deliver half of what the Queen has offered, even if you tried your hardest." Robin told her, choosing to start closing in on her so he could pounce when she least expected, he continued to speak, "Don't waste your breath trying to convince me, the Queen has a proposition, I believe no one is able to match." Robin felt his untamable cock stir at the thought of the proposition, took a deep breath in order to clear his head, and finished, flipping the sharp dagger about his fingers, "Any last words?"
Conversation was over and he had a job to finish, so taking measured steps, Robin approached the young woman with blade in hand and hard glint in his eyes. The Princess could do nothing but stare back at him, shock and terror clear on her face.
Robin halted and shifted his weight to his back leg, preparing to pounce at the girl. But that manoeuvre was all it took for the damned girl to grab a rock that had been resting near her and throw it in Robin's direction. The sodding thing hit him square in the chest, right where the pin rested, making its sharp end dig into Robin's skin. As he looked down to inspect the place he had been hit, the girl started to try to make her escape.
Not today, little one.
Robin pounced so violently he managed to draw some blood curdling screams from the petite royal. She tried to protect herself using the dead body of her old friend as a shield, hiding behind the woman's frame in an attempt to buy herself some time.
So much respect for the loyal and good friend.
Robin was now on his knees on the forest floor, grabbing the dead, heavy body that had been thrown his way, and shoving it to the side as if it weighed next to nothing. The girl started to hastily crawl on all fours away from him, but he was far too quick to let her escape. With a loud groan, Robin grabbed the girl by both her ankles and pulled her in his direction in one swift move, scrapping her snow-white dress against the earthy ground as she sobbed, begging for mercy.
She tried to kick him but his grasp was too strong for her to succeed in moving her lower limbs, the only things she actually did succeed in doing were riling the man currently trying to kill her, and making her ankles sore from the tightening grip.
As he dragged her along the dirt she screamed, thrashing and digging her nails into the ground, leaving long striations behind her.
He pulled her until her legs were between his, and he drew his knees together so he could trap her beneath him.
"Leave me alone!" he heard her scream, as he ensured she could not move her legs.
Ignoring her pathetic pleas, he turned her torso half way around on her left side so he could get a nice shot on her heart.
"No!" she screamed, still crying, "Please don't do this!"
She fumbled with her hands trying to hit him, but even at her full strength, her blows could do nothing. It would have had more of an effect if she had tickled him.
"Shut up, you annoying brat!" he bellowed as he clasped his free hand onto her mouth, muffling her screams, whilst her eyes grew impossibly large, probably already seeing the looming figure of death about herself.
He lifted his right hand, in which held the sharpened knife, and was ready to seal the deal. He's heart pounded fiercely inside his chest as thrill of having this small yet somehow powerful brat's life on his grasp. The venomous joy of killing ran freely about his veins as Robin looked straight into his target's terrified eyes and lunged, aiming for the heart wanting to impossibly rip it off her chest after he had hit her with one strike.
Robin cursed as the slippery shit not only bit his hand but also was somehow able to move at the very last second and his mortal strike did not hit its mark. The knife was plunged into her flesh alright, but since she had managed to move, it had landed on her shoulder and it did not go very deeply, having met the barrier of her shoulder bone.
The metallic scent of blood and the most horrid scream he had ever heard hit Robin's senses.
Red dripped from the princess' shoulder, blood staining the once pristine dress. He had removed his hand from her mouth thanks to the blasted bite she had given his palm, but Robin reached out again and grabbed the base of her throat tightly, reaching out with his other hand to grab the handle, and used his grip on her throat to pull the blade from her shoulder, making her screech once again.
He was infuriated, and the darkest piece of his soul took control. At the sight of her eyes widening, presumably to try to sway him from his task by playing the naïve, pretty princess, he scraped the iron on her cheek in order to defect her innocent beauty. Her hands immediately shot to her face as she let out a whiny cry of horror. The strike had not been very deep, but Robin made sure it was profound enough for it to scar.
Not that it was ever going to scar, since she was to die.
At that moment, Robin's vision and reason were fogged with rage.
It was a matter of seconds, but if Robin were asked to recollect this moment, he would be able to see the whole scene play out slowly in front of him. He saw her hand, bloody, with traces of glass and a fine powder over her palm. He saw her opening her palm near his face, and realizing her plan to get away, he lunged at her with the knife once again.
That had been his mistake, Robin had gotten close enough and the princess blew the contents of her hand into his face.
Robin's connection with reality grew cloudy and distant. He could see the blade still travelling through the air, but his gaze was unfocused and he was unsure as to where the knife landed.
His last coherent thoughts being damned poppies and the Queen is going to kill me!
And then-
Black
…
Robin took a deep breath as he awoke from his haze, inhaling a good amount of dirt as he did so. He was sleeping on the forest floor again.
Had it all really been a dream after all?
He coughed as the powder invaded his body and his eyes shot open. He quickly realized that it was all too real. He was lying on the forest floor on his stomach, hand sticky with blood and still clutching the knife the Queen had given him, arm numb and back aching. The blade was dug into the floor and he could see a torn piece of white fabric trapped where the blade met the ground.
He looked up at the sky, the sun still rested west which made him believe he might have been out for an hour at most.
Not too long then.
Robin brought his tongue to wet his lips and tasted the unique flavour of poppies, promptly spitting the contaminated saliva thereafter. Poppies would knock a normal person out for hours, but since he had a rather resistant body, it had only knocked him unconscious for an hour, even less.
As he dropped his gaze, he was able to see the body of the woman he had killed. Stout, round, timeworn and not royal at all. He quickly got to his knees and desperately looked around the road, but there was no sign of another body.
The damned girl had ran away
Robin felt fury work its way through his whole body as he withdrew the blade from the ground. He was livid; the venom that rushed about his veins was now painful and evil. How much of an idiot had he been to have been knocked out by a feather weight brat for an entire hour? He could not believe he had been knocked unconscious by something as trivial as poppies. Robin kicked himself inwardly thinking that he should have seen the manoeuvre coming.
But how could he possibly? For all he knew, royals like her did not even know that such a plant existed; the powder was usually utilized by witches and healers, it was not something one such as a princess would simply carry around-
Robin's gaze shifted to the dead woman lying beside him, her calloused hands showcasing years of hard work, her simple garb which told him she had very little and most importantly, the string about her neck that had probably been yanked at until it broke.
Realization hit him, the moments before and after his kill-shot playing in his mind. She had clutched her chest, she had taken the girl's hand in hers, and she had murmured things his ears could not pick out.
Her
The old woman. Was she a chambermaid? A guardian? She had been gentle to the girl, far too gentle, almost a motherly touch, probably knew her since she was a babe. She had walked hand in hand with the girl. She had not left the girl's sight from the moment the king had been announced dead.
Robin did not know how but he was sure that she had seen this attack coming.
She must have handed the damned girl the poppies as she lay dying. Robin could hazily recall her hand clutching the princess' before it became limp. It was her fault. It was her fault that he had lost his prey. It was her fault that he had lost his consciousness. It was her fault that he had lost his reward.
Robin let out an anger-filled scream, and before he could give any second thought, he pounced at the dead body, stabbing it like a mad man. The feel of the blade that already felt like a second skin to him entering the old woman's flesh did very little to help satiate his rage.
Red… red. Red was all he saw as he pierced the limp helpless body. Red that been a new addition to his sight as he came to rest his eyes on the Queen for the first time. The Queen who had offered herself as a reward for him to make this kill. The Queen who was going to have his head for letting her prey escape.
Thinking about how he was never going to feel the Queen's soft and electrifying skin on his ever again infuriated Robin even more. He plunged manically with the knife until he felt his arms stiffen due to the force with which he was stabbing her. Fatigue finally taking over.
He pulled the blade out for the very last time and for a moment examined what he had done. He had stabbed the lifeless body about her whole torso and now there was blood everywhere, his vision a pool of crimson.
The old woman's blood covered his hands, the fresh, sticky substance coating the dried layer left behind by the stupid, little princess.
Robin blinked several times, his vision becoming a haze of red as he managed to calm himself down so he was capable of coherent thought. At least coherent enough for him to strategize an escape plan, because the Queen would most certainly chop off his cock - instead of sucking it - because of this failure.
Taking a deep breath, Robin twisted the blade so he could clean it on the little that had been left unpainted with red from his shirt when something else hit him;
He had injured the princess.
He had dug the blade fiercely into her shoulder. And soon after she had blown powdered poppies into his face, and the last thing he remembered was trying to have another go at stabbing her. His aim had been clearly damaged by the dust, as the only thing that remained was a piece of her dress, and not her lifeless body.
But alas, she had left something far more precious than a strip of cotton behind-
A trail
As Robin meticulously examined the ground, he could see just where the girl had dragged herself from. The dirt on the ground was moved in the shape of her body, her hands, her heels and there was a clear blood trail to be followed.
Robin was up in milliseconds, forgetting all about the now mangled body lying at his feet and focusing on finding the girl. He had to kill her. That was what he was supposed to do, that was what he had woken up for, and Robin also knew in the back of his mind that, if he did not succeed in his mission, there was a very slim chance of him making it out of his kingdom alive. His mission and sense of self-preservation, however horrid and selfish they might have been, blinded all his other sentiments.
The bloody trail would lead him to her, of that he was certain.
He would find her, he would take her down and make her suffer for this humiliation, the Queen, after all, had mentioned something about anguish in her instructions of how she wanted him to end the girl, and then, only when he was satisfied, he would be merciful and end her misery by killing her.
Robin was only granted a few steps in the trail's direction before numerous quick footsteps reached his ears. The traces of poppy dust still in his system hindered his ability to think quick enough to conceal himself before being seen, and the various shouts of "Oi!" and "Halt!" could be heard from the palace guards behind him.
So he ran.
He swiftly grabbed his bow and the knife, and he ran.
He had never run so quickly in his entire life, but Robin was far too aware of what the scene he found himself in looked like to try to ponder upon a reasonable explanation.
As he made his hasty way through the trees he could spot arrows being shot his way and he could not help but think how utterly humiliating it would be if he was actually hit by one; 'a skilled marksman being taken down by an arrow', the thought was ridiculous and the irony was not lost on him. Robin's legs ached, a mixture of the dizzying rage and the damned poppies.
When he reached the King's mausoleum, he knew he was done for; there were several knights standing around the building, looking perplexed and wary. Behind them, Robin could see a trace of blood on one of the white walls of the house. His trail, the damned girl's blood which would ultimately lead him to her. He needed to follow it, he wanted to follow it but he was quickly seized by the black clad soldiers who screamed various insults his way.
There were three men restraining his movements, but all of his attempts to free himself came to a halt when he felt a cold, sharp blade on his neck.
"You will pay for this, scum." The man who held the iron to his flesh spat.
Robin kept his mouth shut and his expression unreadable, even as the man's fist came in contact with his stomach with untamed force. Although the Queen had not given him instructions as to what to do in this situation, Robin figured it was best not to reveal to her soldiers that he had been acting on her orders.
As the guards conversed with one another, Robin was able to discern that the man who held the blade to his neck had been captain of the King's guard. He, along with several other soldiers, had taken the western route of the forest to pay their respects to the King. When they came across the bloody marks on the mausoleum walls, they had become alarmed and had sent out a couple of men to inspect the east path, knowing that the Princess favoured that particular road.
Men that were now reporting back to the castle with what they had found; the body of one of the most beloved servants in such a state it brought tears to one young soldier's eyes.
If this is how the royal guard reacts to violence, Robin mused, it is no wonder the King is dead.
Robin was relieved to overhear they had not yet found the princess.
He found himself being dragged to the castle by royal knights for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. He wondered if they would try to question him, or if they would just throw him in a cell, or worst of all, torture him. And most importantly, he wondered to whom they were taking him.
Robin's silent ponderings were answered as the guards ushered him through a pair of familiar doors. They came into a halt near the door, a man on each side restraining his arms and the captain of the guard stood slightly ahead of them.
The sight that met his eyes was completely alien; it was the very same room he had been in before, with the very same chaise longue and the mirror frame that lacked a reflective surface, and yet everything was dark. Even the walls seemed to have taken a completely different colour, a darker and gloomier one.
And she was there. Even with her back turned to him clad all in black looking at the crackling fire, he could sense her strong presence and just knew that the black garbed figure could only belong to her.
Her hair was pinned up, her hands were on her hips, her corseted back expanded with each deep breath she took.
"Your majesty-" the captain of the guard started with such a timid voice Robin had to wonder if it was the same man that had punched and threatened him numerous times on the way back.
The Queen did not reply, did not even move; she simply huffed for the man to continue.
"We found this man fleeing from the sight were the princess' maid's body was found." He could hear the Queen click her tongue as the captain took a shaky breath and continued; "He tried to escape but my men seized him by the King's tomb."
She huffed again.
"If I, if I may your majesty-" he stuttered, "It is clear he is responsible, he is drenched in blood and we apprehended a knife and a bow from him, which were clearly used in-"
"Enough!" the Queen finally bellowed and all men tensed, the captain's mouth snapped shut.
"Leave us." She ordered harshly, with her back still turned to the men.
"Your majesty, surely it is not wise of you to remain alone with such a man without proper-" the captain tried but stopped speaking altogether when her head snapped to the side and she looked ferociously over her shoulder, sending a poisonous glare that had all men unconsciously stepping back a pace.
"If you want to maintain that head attached to the rest of your body, captain, I would advise you to keep your opinions to yourself," her words were pure poison, "I said 'leave us'! Now!" she screamed and all the man, clearly unaccustomed to her behaving like that, gave a small jump in reaction.
Her glare eased as she raised an eyebrow and her voice lowered, "and leave behind his weapons; I know just what to do with them."
The guards quickly let go of Robin's arms, and he saw the captain lay his bow, quiver and the knife on a small table near her chaise longue. After hastily bowing to the Queen, all three men hurriedly exited without another word. Probably thanking their lucky stars that they were not in the outlaw's skin.
Robin was fucked. He knew that much. She was probably going to kill him in the most painful and merciless way imaginable. Not only had he failed his mission, but he had let the princess escape.
When the doors of the room closed behind him with a loud bang, Robin swallowed as she turned around.
Gods she had murder in her eyes, murder and malice and hate and yet, she was perfect. Even with furious, mad eyes, the black paint outlining them slightly smeared, some sweat droplets resting on her forehead and lips still red but not all due to paint. A couple of locks of her long hair had escaped her up do and framed her livid face.
Robin could not resist but scan her body as her front came into view, if he was going to die, at least the last thing he saw was to his liking. Her chest was heaving, and Robin's eyes feasted on the way her full breasts almost spilled out of her corset, the black material tightly hugging her waist. Her hands gripped her sides with vigour.
She was not wearing a dress as he had previously thought but rather a cape that had a big opening starting just below her navel to reveal she was wearing, oh Gods above, leather pants. Tight, clingy, black leather pants and leather high-heeled boots.
If he had not been sure that her next move was murdering him, he would have been extremely aroused. Robin found it alarming when it hit him that his lower body was being rather responsive to the view, regardless of the circumstances. Or was it because of the circumstances? Robin could not say. He was snapped out of his momentary haze by her wrathful words;
"Well, well... What do we have here?"