If you like Alan Rickman, you have come to the right place! I know so many
people who love this man that I felt inspired to write - erm 'racy' -
fiction about his characters. As I am not a Rickman fancier myself, I find
it quite easy to write smut about him! I'm afraid this chapter is more of
an introduction to the hero and heroine. I promise you it will get steamy
in part 3;) Hope you don't mind me mocking Robin a little.
There is also a Harry Potter-ised version in the HP section, with Severus Snape as the Sheriff. I kept the name Severus here, though I use it as sparingly as possible.
IF YOU ARE FAMILIAR WITH THE FILM YOU CAN SKIP TO PART 2, this is just plot regurgitation as an introduction.
**********************************
Over 800 years ago, King Richard the Lionheart led the 3rd Crusade into the Eastern lands to spread the word of Christianity. However, many of his men did not return.
*
Guy of Gisborn staggered into the Great Hall of Nottingham Castle still panting with exhaustion, and severely shaken by his brush with death. His cousin, the Sheriff of Nottingham, turned to face him.
"What the hell happened to you?" he sneered.
Guy drew in a great shuddering breath and leaned against the wall. He longed to sink into the chair in front of him, but he didn't dare do so without the Sheriff's permission.
"We were set upon," gasped Guy "by a man who warned us against harming his people."
"His people?" the Sheriff inquired.
"He claims to be Robin of Locksley,"
"Aah. The prodigal son returns. and yet you return alone, what of your men?"
Guy felt his knees go weak under his cousin's fierce glare. The Sheriff of Nottingham inspired more fear in him than a hundred Robin of Locksleys.
"They were all slain, cousin, and I barely survived, I -" he trailed off as the Sheriff rose suddenly and strode over to meet him, his face inches from Guy's. Guy could tell that he had aroused that fiery temper of his, and he feared for his life. "He had a companion -" Guy blurted "A painted man."
"An Easterner?" the Sheriff cried in disbelief, stepping back disorientated. He deliberated for a moment, before waving a hand at Guy. "Get out. I wish to be alone."
*
With Guy of Gisborn gone, the Sheriff of Nottingham made his way into the bowels of the castle, below even the deepest dungeons. The stench was awful but he carried on, picking his way through the festering carcasses of dead rodents and the putrid remnants of whatever foul potions the one who dwelt there had been brewing over the years. As he approached the wizened form that hunched over the table at the far end of the room he was greeted by serpents that hissed and writhed at his feet. He longed to kick the foul creatures out of his path, but he was all too aware of what the penalty for that would be.
"Mortiana," he said.
The figure turned its head slowly towards him, and he was faced with the shriveled visage of an old crone. She was over a century old. It was she who had discovered Severus when he was a baby, abandoned at her door by his parents. His family were nobles, but far beneath Mortiana's esteem. However she took on their son and raised him until he was ready to take on the mantle as the Sheriff of Nottingham.
He struggled against the wave of nausea which always swamped him when confronted with the hideous old woman. The witch was then seized by a fit of coughing, so it was a while before she finally spoke. Her breath wheezed and rattled in her throat, and every word she uttered was an effort.
"I knew you'd come."
The Sheriff sat by her side as she removed a snake from her plate and selected an egg from under one of the brooding mothers under the table. Hissing like one of her reptiles she sliced her long gnarled fingernails into the egg. Thick, dark blood dripped onto the gold plate. The Sheriff gritted his teeth, masking his revulsion. Mortiana threw a handful of pre- selected runes into the blood and tilted the plate this way and that to get the best view.
"What do you see?" whispered the Sheriff, careful not to betray his impatience. He shuddered as a snake slithered its way up his calf, but did not dare shake it off.
The witch hissed. "I see the son of a dead man,"
"Locksley!" His hands clenched convulsively on the back of the old woman's chair.
"He dwells in Sherwood Forest, he is gathering companions to him, they are loyal to him, they will fight for him. He must be stopped, he is a threat to you."
Suddenly a terrifying shriek rent the air. The Sheriff stood up in alarm and the plate clattered to the floor. He bit back another violent wave of nausea as the old crone clung to him desperately, babbling incoherently in terror. "I saw the painted man, he haunts my dreams!" she croaked.
"Locksley's companion." The Sheriff mused.
"You must kill him," sobbed the witch "You must kill them all."
There is also a Harry Potter-ised version in the HP section, with Severus Snape as the Sheriff. I kept the name Severus here, though I use it as sparingly as possible.
IF YOU ARE FAMILIAR WITH THE FILM YOU CAN SKIP TO PART 2, this is just plot regurgitation as an introduction.
**********************************
Over 800 years ago, King Richard the Lionheart led the 3rd Crusade into the Eastern lands to spread the word of Christianity. However, many of his men did not return.
*
Guy of Gisborn staggered into the Great Hall of Nottingham Castle still panting with exhaustion, and severely shaken by his brush with death. His cousin, the Sheriff of Nottingham, turned to face him.
"What the hell happened to you?" he sneered.
Guy drew in a great shuddering breath and leaned against the wall. He longed to sink into the chair in front of him, but he didn't dare do so without the Sheriff's permission.
"We were set upon," gasped Guy "by a man who warned us against harming his people."
"His people?" the Sheriff inquired.
"He claims to be Robin of Locksley,"
"Aah. The prodigal son returns. and yet you return alone, what of your men?"
Guy felt his knees go weak under his cousin's fierce glare. The Sheriff of Nottingham inspired more fear in him than a hundred Robin of Locksleys.
"They were all slain, cousin, and I barely survived, I -" he trailed off as the Sheriff rose suddenly and strode over to meet him, his face inches from Guy's. Guy could tell that he had aroused that fiery temper of his, and he feared for his life. "He had a companion -" Guy blurted "A painted man."
"An Easterner?" the Sheriff cried in disbelief, stepping back disorientated. He deliberated for a moment, before waving a hand at Guy. "Get out. I wish to be alone."
*
With Guy of Gisborn gone, the Sheriff of Nottingham made his way into the bowels of the castle, below even the deepest dungeons. The stench was awful but he carried on, picking his way through the festering carcasses of dead rodents and the putrid remnants of whatever foul potions the one who dwelt there had been brewing over the years. As he approached the wizened form that hunched over the table at the far end of the room he was greeted by serpents that hissed and writhed at his feet. He longed to kick the foul creatures out of his path, but he was all too aware of what the penalty for that would be.
"Mortiana," he said.
The figure turned its head slowly towards him, and he was faced with the shriveled visage of an old crone. She was over a century old. It was she who had discovered Severus when he was a baby, abandoned at her door by his parents. His family were nobles, but far beneath Mortiana's esteem. However she took on their son and raised him until he was ready to take on the mantle as the Sheriff of Nottingham.
He struggled against the wave of nausea which always swamped him when confronted with the hideous old woman. The witch was then seized by a fit of coughing, so it was a while before she finally spoke. Her breath wheezed and rattled in her throat, and every word she uttered was an effort.
"I knew you'd come."
The Sheriff sat by her side as she removed a snake from her plate and selected an egg from under one of the brooding mothers under the table. Hissing like one of her reptiles she sliced her long gnarled fingernails into the egg. Thick, dark blood dripped onto the gold plate. The Sheriff gritted his teeth, masking his revulsion. Mortiana threw a handful of pre- selected runes into the blood and tilted the plate this way and that to get the best view.
"What do you see?" whispered the Sheriff, careful not to betray his impatience. He shuddered as a snake slithered its way up his calf, but did not dare shake it off.
The witch hissed. "I see the son of a dead man,"
"Locksley!" His hands clenched convulsively on the back of the old woman's chair.
"He dwells in Sherwood Forest, he is gathering companions to him, they are loyal to him, they will fight for him. He must be stopped, he is a threat to you."
Suddenly a terrifying shriek rent the air. The Sheriff stood up in alarm and the plate clattered to the floor. He bit back another violent wave of nausea as the old crone clung to him desperately, babbling incoherently in terror. "I saw the painted man, he haunts my dreams!" she croaked.
"Locksley's companion." The Sheriff mused.
"You must kill him," sobbed the witch "You must kill them all."