A/N: Guess what time it is again? Reviewer responses! Get happy! *grins* And enjoy the chapter!

Amadea – You're the only to like my slightly cliffhanger ending! Lol. Thanks for the support. *glares at everyone else* hehe. Jk jk. And I like to think of annoying Lucy as being like homework – necessary evil. Hehehe. Of course it was fun seeing cute guys in tights! Why else would I be obsessed with Robin Hood? Haha. Just kidding; just kidding.

AnyaAnanda – Snapple caps are the bomb! My Southern cousins have a collection of them; they're such science geeks. And I know I was evil to leave a half-cliffhanger. But  cliffies are my evil indulgence, like chocolate and cute guys in tights ----(Will Scarlett – old Robin Hood – hell yeah. Did you notice he's always the hot one? Cuz I sure did. *wink wink*)  Hahaha. Speaking of which, he's all yours. I don't think anybody else likes him that much. Lol. They dyed Robin's hair for the public appearance so that no one would catch onto their little lie about Robin being blonde. (yea; I carried that over from Love Bites, cuz they were originally part of my one big story. Sorry!)

Black Sheep Alone – You get to go to Renne Fairs? Lucky duck. Anyhoot, the display of fighting techniques was put on by the Higgins Armory in the Northeast, and it's the only museum dedicated to medieval fighting in the Northern Hemisphere. Hehehe. It was put on by Boskone 41 at some hotel. Tamora Pierce I met cuz she runs this thing called "Tea With Tammy"; you can check if it's coming near you on her site under appearances.

Dragon-of-the-North – Firstly, you poor thing! Writing a thesis is a beast; my aunt and my cousin were both living off coffee for weeks and ranting about it. And you crack me up! You really do love the crafty old gentlemen, don't you? And it makes me all chipmunk giddy when you say you like "my" Robin and Sara. Also thanks for the suggestion on the flail and morning star. This cute, smart, funny, (a.k.a perfect) kid at the library asked me, since he was told I'm a medieval expert by my friend, and I soo badly wanted to tell him cuz it would make conversation. You rock!!! (both for giving me a way to talk w/cutie, and for writing such brilliant reviews!)

IndigoDream – Oh Lordie, you laugh out loud? *giggles excitedly* Oh, you just made my day – no, my life! My sister said I forgot about comic relief (she also said it should be about Legolas, HER favorite archer, but I ignored that). Hah! So she can bite it! Oh you made my life. Anyhoot, thanks for being the grammar check machine, since I didn't send ch. 21 to my beta buddy. And Allan is your fave? *laughs*  Sorry, but I love him too, in his own little prick way. You're a musician? What instrument do you play? And worry not, I love long reviews! (Especially as I tend to write them)

Kate/Eh,Man – Best beta buddy ever! Hehehe. Thank you so much for the proofreading; it's not useless at all and it often makes me think and rephrase things completely for the better. *claps* You rock my socks!!! Just ask Indigo Dream, the Grammar Machine, all the chapters I don't send to you end up messed up in grammar. Haha.

Llyra Monroe –  "Lord Shiva", eh? Sounds classic. And your friends tape the segments from the History Channel? That does sounds familiar ---- *eyes own collection of recordings* Erm, yeah. *hides tapes* lol. Anyways---Allan is still a virgin. Hahahaha. That question made me crack up, though, no matter how inappropriate. Because Robin doesn't like that in his camp – hehehe – because of the screaming, loud, guaranteed-to-get-us-caught brats that come from "it". And I love type-casting Mary-Sues. Mary-Sue bashing is a legitimate sport! At least in my book. And the title of chapter 21? I'm simple; it's simple. Hehehe. Now where's that fictionpress story, you slacker? And where's my Green Rider update? Slacker! Slacker! Slacker! I'll get my psycho track coach on you? Jk jk. And you know how you get your muse after I update? Same thing happens when you update before I do! Lol. Another funny thing you said – you make me crack up in your reviews; they're awesome – was that you'd date Robin in real life. Hahahaha.

Lulu Bell – Great minds think alike! I was going to write about Sara having privy duty! Hahahahaha. It will be me pleasure to write that up. *laughs again* And Marian did find Aedre; worry not. And about Geoffrey, I just finished that book, In a Dark Wood, and it was so good! I can't believe it was a Michael Cadnum I hadn't read; I'd read the sequel. *laughs* But I loved the toothless dude – he was my idol! After the happiness of "what a great story", though, I was like, "Crap! Plagiarism", but then I remembered this is fanction. Copyright laws out the window. Lol.

Mianne – Ooooh, I really liked the first chapter of your ficcie! My mom kicked me off the computer after I read only that much, so hopefully I get to read more later. And I met Tamora Pierce at this "Tea With Tammy" thing she runs. If you check her website and look under appearances, she might be 'coming soon to a town near you'. Hehehe.

Omlette Girl – You are the best for figuring out the difference between those weapons. This cute guy who works at the library asked me, thinking I was a medieval expert, and so I was frantically trying to find the answer. You rock!!! He was so impressed by me. Lol. And that thing you asked about the time period? A bunch of people agreed with it, so I guess that I should have put that in. lol. Thanks! And you made me CRACK UP when you wrote "robin is a doormat (my love rob, anyhow). Because he is such a doormat. Hehehe. So true; so true. And you also suffer under a psycho track coach? We never get to practice inside, cuz we only have an outdoor track! It was 5 degrees out and we go for a jog round the track. My face was practically frozen off. Those bastard track coach psychos!!! Anyhoot, Allan is usually not such a weasel, but I was inspired by Robin McKinley's version of him to make the little flamer (jk jk) a brat.

Rhapsody's Song – Haha. Lucy is a weirdo, but she's actually based off of people I actually know. (dun dun dun) And I met Tamora Pierce at this thing she runs called 'Tea With Tammy". You can see if it's coming to somewhere near you soon on her website under "appearances". And be jealous. Be very jealous. Hehehe. Just kidding. And thanks for the funny suggestions.  You made me laugh after a very depressing geometry test. *Stupid math!* And I'm glad you don't like Allan; some people do and you weren't supposed to. Hehehe. 

Ruby – Sorry about the evil cliffhanger-sort ending, but cliffhangers are my evil indulgence. *evil laugh* Anyhoot, you know me so well! "None of OutlawEris' characters are angels…" Hahaha. You saw right through that one. You just love sarcasm in characters, don't you? And I'm glad you like Marian; I was afraid she'd be too much of a b**** to handle. And you made my day when you said you like Sara and Marian's father and --- well, everyone but Robin! Lol. Jk jk. And sorry it took so long to update, but I have up ff.net for Lent, being a good little Christian. *snicker*

Sherwood Girl – Robin and Marian do get back together; worry not. I'm not THAT cruel. Marian does explain to Robin very soon. (Alright, more far than soon, but you know---) And I read Robin Hood: A Mythic Biography!!! That was such an informative book! I got seven new ideas for stories! It just hit the Robin Hood inspirational spot! And would you tell me some more titles? I've read about a bajillion of them as well, but I'm quite sure I missed some. Please share!

Sherwood Kitten – Were it not for you, I would get no constructive criticism. Thanks so much! I really do need to improve the way I write things, and so I am very glade for your tips. See, this was originally part of a bigger story I wrote, and I took out this incident and made it a ficcie. This is a problem, cuz it was in the middle of my original, which means I often forget to explain characters. Thank you so much! And I'm glad you enjoy!

The Brilliant Fool – So glad you like this! Enjoy and keep the Robin Hood love strong!

Yael – I'm sorry I didn't update soon, but I gave up updating for Lent. *sigh* Being such an angelic Christian is just so difficult sometimes. (Just kidding! The only angel I'll ever be is one of those that got kicked out of heaven! lol) 

******** ***                    

I jabbed the bone needle into the altar cloth again, muttering furiously to myself about the idiocy of my society. Aedre was helping me with the hideously mutilated flower in the center. She smiled up at me, shivering in the cold air. She was draped with one of her homespun wool blankets, and though I may say this because she is my cousin, she weaves the finest in all Christendom. She was quite fond of weaving even before she had begun to meticulously weave her solid, warm blanket for "those poor dear doves in the woods… Oh, they are so thin, Mari. The thickness of this blanket shall have to bear the weight their bones will not." She was a social thing, and she craved human interaction.

I smiled fondly at her, and she giggled, shaking her head at the sad excuse for Saint Dunstan on the altar cloth. I grinned forcibly at her, remembering how she used to sit me down when I returned from Sherwood and beg for the story of Robin's reaction and the happy outcries that always followed the arrival of more warmth. And though Will made the same joke every time, Aedre giggled madly when I recounted his thanks: "Ha! Now Rob won't be sleeping naked tonight – thank you, Mari!" He loved to make fun of Robin's tendency to give his shirt to anyone who didn't have a blanket at night. And she would laugh even harder if I told that Sara were there to say she "would have been blinded" if she'd awoken to that sight "once more".  And the massive grin that spread across John's face when he saw how large they were. The laughter that came from Robin when he threw a blanket over my head and wouldn't let me see anything until I promised to marry the venison stew he had made. The way everyone screamed it was poison and burnt and he'd probably spilt half of it and pissed in the pot to make up for the loss and ----

God, I couldn't think about that now.

I couldn't think about anything now.

Embroidery had become the ninth ring of Hell. Aedre and I used to fill the silence with my stories of Sherwood and its inhabitants. But I could console myself no longer. I could never go back to there, because my heart would begin to pull at its strings and the entire bloody tapestry would fall apart.

I wished that I had even half the skill Aedre did with strings, both those that held her life and her weavings. She was humming quietly, tapping her foot gently as she effortlessly seamed over my mistakes, giving Dunstan a nose with the thread plucked out from what had been his third leg.  I arched an eyebrow at her inner merriment. "How can you stand this?" I cried. Her head snapped up from surveying a recently etched nostril, and she smiled brightly. "Ah, Marian, your portrayal of Dunstan makes me smile." She grinned down at my mutant saint, who had three fingers coming from his arse. "But why do you ask? Are you falling into boredom, my Marian? I am sure I could make conversation."

"Aye, I'm bored! I would much rather be off---" I gulped back tears and furrowed my brow at the twisted lily I was finishing.  

Aedre paused in her elated stitchery to frown sympathetically. "Oh, poor Mari," she cooed, "I suppose this must be tedious for you, but think of how nice it will look on the altar!" I scowled, jabbing the needle straight into my own finger. "And who to admire it, pray tell?" I sneered, trying to clot my blood on a lovely red peony Aedre had crafted. Saint Dunstan was much too fond of damned flowers. My cousin sighed and replied, "Mari, must you be so irritable?"

I arched a derogatory eyebrow and she giggled again. "Ah, why did I bother to ask?"

"Ask what, Aedre?" My father came rushing into my room. I peered up from my irritating work and forced the furious glower from my face.  His eyes were frantic as he sought my gaze, but when I let my lips turn sweetly upward with play-acted nonchalance, all the stress of him dissipated.

Aedre stood and held out her arms to embrace him. He smiled at his niece and returned the exuberant hug, grinning at me over her shoulder.

After my willowy cousin seated herself, exultant at the unexpected company, he sat down beside us, smiling. I grinned lovingly and turned my cheek so that he might kiss it. "Good day, Father. How are you?"

He drew a strand of my hair behind my ear. "I am fine, dove.  And you?"

"A bit bored, but Aedre makes lovely company, doesn't she?" My cousin smiled brightly as I continued. "But Father, you look perplexed. Might I help answer your question?" I smiled sweetly at him, but Aedre's eyebrow arched; she knew I made no 'concerned inquiry'.

"That you can, my daughter. Do you remember that peasant boy – Robin? You used to play with him when you were younger?"

My fingers twitched, but I nodded calmly. "Oh, aye, Father."

"He used to be quite good with bird calls, was he not?" Holy Lord---

"Aye, Father. He had quite a handle on even the difficult ones." Please don't let him ask---

"Ah, I thought so. But, I – well, did he--" Curses.

"Aye, sir, he is now Robin Hood."

"I – well, I did not mean to bring up---"

"He is not a murderer!" I barked, nearly screaming,. My father and Aedre both started, and their passive shock, quietly coming forth from their docile faces, irritated me beyond measure.  Had they no souls? Were they never enraged or irritated? They blinked in near unison, still the astounded deer I knew them as. Nay, there was no anger in them. Had there ever been doubt? "I – well, he did not mean to kill Ralph the forester is all," I continued, quickly and quietly, trying to cover my outburst, "He was aiming for the man's bow arm." I waited for them to murmur understanding and sympathies, but Aedre only refused to meet my eyes. And my father – my own father- arched an eyebrow, of all things. "Well, he may have said that, but-" My father started.

"What? He would LIE to me?" How could he not believe? He had known Robin; he was damn well aware that Robin NEVER lost his temper! And he knew he was my friend! But my father was suddenly pure, stupid, useless, inaccurate reason – reason without feeling. 

"Robin was the best archer in the shire, Mari," he reasoned quietly, "It can hardly be true that he would miss such an-"

"Robin cannot be expected to aim carefully when his LIFE is being threatened!" I clenched my fists. Wherefore did he have such audacity? Who did he think we were talking about? This was not William temper-from-Hell Norwell or drunk-buffoon Richard! This was my Robin!

But did that matter to my father? "Marian, the man could hit a bulls-eye blindfolded at the age of four, for heaven's-"

"Good God, he still wakes screaming Ralph's name in his nightmares!" I screeched, shocking myself. Aedre's head jerked upwards, and her eyes widened in warning terror for one world-splitting moment.

                Oh, damn it all to Hell.

My father froze and stared at me in horror and disbelief. "How – how do you know this?" he whispered. I clamped a hand over my mouth, and Aedre dropped her bone needle. I could not find the strength to reply.  I had just given away my upheld secret of years in a stupid fit of passion.  My promise of secrecy melted off my tongue and shuffled backward into the growing pool of guilt in the back of my mind.

"I will repeat myself but once, child – how do you know this?" He stood up, anger in his eyes. And the entire world and all its injustices and pain was culminated in his uncalled for expression.

"Robin is my friend, Father, and I did not abandon him because he defended himself!" I screamed, "He was frightened and injured when he was banished to Sherwood, and he needed help! I do not care what you or anyone else says, because in God's eyes he is innocent! Are you fool enough to think that bastards like the king's bounty hunters, who kill for pleasure, are better than Robin, who is afraid to even enter a church because he thinks himself so unholy?" I threw up my hands and then glowered at him.

My father blinked curiously at my fuming face, and his expression fell. He sighed and kissed my forehead. I grudgingly allowed the gesture, though my senses recoiled against allowing easy forgiveness. "Marian, I tell you this for your good, not to encourage intervention. I fear what you may do if you hear it from another." I paused in my inner raging to watch him suspiciously. What was he suggesting?

"One can see it as a predestined trial by combat, I suppose." A lump rose in my throat. Not Gisbourne; Lord, don't let it be Gisbourne… Any hunter but Gisbourne. Guy of Gisbourne was the king's best outlaw hunter; it was said he could smell blood like the wolf he resembled. That I doubted, but I dared not doubt his swordsmanship. He was deadly and famed throughout England for his skill, and noble fathers coveted his instruction for their sons. But he would only instruct the best (one of which happened to be Will, who had come closest of any man in England to actually besting Gisbourne).  And he only killed the best outlaws - mercilessly.

I had met him only once when I was younger, but he had frightened me. There was a ruthless coldness in everything he did and said; he had sent Will's sister into tears and beaten Will bloody for being bested by one of the younger boys. Every sensible creature for miles was frightened of him. Robin had told me that horses were spooked by him, and the birds flew away from the man before you could even see him. He scared all Hell from any animal, including people.

"You must promise me you will not try to save the outlaw from Gisbourne."

Heart and breath both froze within me "… unfair as the fight may seem to you, the life of an outlaw is not worth your death." Something akin to anger churned through my veins , and a tremor ran through me. How could he say such---

The wheels of my mind began to spin.

At this point, I wish I could say how angry I was when my father dared say such things, that I raged and preached about equality, but I was stupidly calm. There was not a way in heaven he could make me stay, that I knew. And so all that mattered were the lies that I had to say.

I am an EXCELLENT liar.

Sniffing softly, I nodded. I forced my eyes to water, and the struggle to imitate tears was so strenuous that I actually had to blink them back. "Aye, father, I understand." My voice quivered delightfully. (I am quite proud of myself for this performance) "And I am sure that Robin will victor, because it is he who deserves the victory." I seated myself quietly, blinking furiously at the altar cloth.

After my father left, Aedre snorted. "That was as true as a babe's aim," she muttered. I arched an eyebrow, smirking. "Well, are you going to help me?"

****** ******

                Aedre squealed and grabbed my arm, slamming me into the wall. The both of us drew in deep breath, sucking our stomachs inward. My father stepped from his rooms around the corner, and I motioned for Aedre to distract him. She stepped out into the hallway, beaming. "Milord, have you seen Marian?"

                Wilfred, noble lord of Norwell and military strategist, turned pale at the very mention. "Nay; I've not. And yourself?"

                "I've had no sight of her since she left her chambers."

                "And when was that?"

                "But a trice after you gave us news of Gisbourne."

                "In which direction has she gone?"

                "The---" Aedre clapped a delicate hand to her pursed mouth. God praise all play-actors. "The stables," she whispered, the shock in her voice so sweetly evident. My father locked his hand round her wrist, and the both of them scurried towards the stable yard in a flustered pair.

                I smirked and made my slow progress towards my father's chambers. Surely enough, he had left the door unbarred. God bless all the innocent. I seated myself on one of the carved benches in my father's room and began leafing through the parchment on the table. I was truly hoping to find some of Gisbourne's strategy. Our beloved sheriff often sent his outlaw capture strategies to my father for correction, and my dear sire did his civic duty and perfected the ideas as he saw best. It was hardly his fault that the innocent daughter he sent as messenger occasionally altered them. After all, "fifty hens" does look ever so much like "fifty men". Surely it was a switch of the quill.  

                Footsteps sounded down the hall, and I dove under my father's other table, the one he ate upon if working ran too late. Luckily, he had thrown his cloak upon it, and so with my back to the wall and his cloak to shield my front side, none but the most perceptive would note my presence.

                God curse my father's perceptive nature.

                He entered the room, and quietly shut the door behind his guest. I arched an eyebrow, trying to recognize the voice of this intruder on my efforts. He was quite unknown to me at the moment, however, and I struggled with my curiosity. Oh, but he made me shiver just by entering. I wanted a look at the man so badly.

                "Good day, Sir Gisbourne." WHAT? The most bloodthirsty, bounty-hunting monster in all sweet England was in my manor?

                "The same to you, milord Wilfred." Pfft! I'm sure.

                "What brings you to Whitby without notice, sir?" A bloodthirsty rampage, perhaps?

                "The sheriff has insisted I review my plans for capture of the Sherwood ruffians with you. It seems he trusts your tactical prowess verily." Somebody doesn't sound so happy about that.

                "I am flattered, Gisbourne. But you are after more than one ruffian?" Nay, father, you must be jesting. I could not resist my sarcastic thoughts.

                "Aye. It seems the leading bastard has a bastard cousin and a bastard giant behind him, either of which would replace his bastard hide if he died." Why , my gratitude for the information, Gisbourne. I must admit I was quite unaware of Robin's excess illegitimacy.

The knight belched pleasantly, as if responding that it was no trouble at all.

                "I see," my father continued, eyebrow arching involuntarily as his eyes ran over the plans. "So you will kill all in the bandit camp?"

                "If you would read the plans, Lord Whitby, you would see that I'm to capture the leader alive after he surrenders, and take him to Nottingham Dungeons."

                "Why would anyone want such a creature alive?" My father seemed quite irritated, but I saw his wince of sympathy.

                "It seems milord sheriff is in the mood for a little woodland entertainment, if you catch me." Charming.  

                "Ah, of course. But if the outlaw should resist surrender to you?"

                 "Then I've all permission to enjoy my own woodland entertainment." And still more charming.

                "And how do you plan to attack the others if the coward tells you where they are?"

                "I've the foresters of Sherwood coming up the High Road to take the camp and its inhabitants – when their leader has revealed its location to me."

                "Ah, but why, pray tell, would he do that? These woodland people are very loyal to one another."

                "When you have a man in so much in pain that he begs weeping for death, he'll forget all loyalty to anyone."

                They continued in this train of speaking, reviewing Gisbourne's overall strategy to be sure of its accuracy. I scowled with frustration beneath the tabletop, biting one of my nails anxiously. Gisbourne sounded positively ecstatic whenever any mention of Robin's murder entered the conversation, and after one too many merry descriptions of the upcoming murder, I was ready to take my hands and lock them round the man's bloodthirsty throat. But I restrained myself despite an avid desire to take him by the hair and slam some sense into his thick head.

                Fortunately, he stood in some sort of huff and exited the room with one of his famous curt farewells. My father sighed to himself. "Good day, sir knight, and remember that mercy is a Christian moral."

                "I do not waste my mercy on outlaws."

                "Gisbourne, your bloodlust will be your undoing. They move swiftly in those woods; if you do not finish the outlaw quickly his followers will finish you."

                The knight laughed obnoxiously. "A scraggly lot of green peasants best an armed knight? You truly are a witty man, Lord Wilfred."

                "Gisbourne," my father was exasperated, "Robin Hood does not only gather peasants. William of Norwell is among them; you will remember his skill with the blade well."

                "And you will do well to remember that it was I who taught him."

                "The pupil can surpass the master."

                "That is hardly relevant, as I am facing his bastard leader and not him."

                "That 'bastard' leader is his cousin, and I will warn you that William never has and never will let anyone touch his cousin."

                Gisbourne snorted. "Then how did some maid manage to drag the bastard to Nottingham Dungeons?" He laughed coldly. "I promise you, my lord, I can handle this hooded peasant and his sot of a cousin as well. After all, I've the element of surprise."

                I smirked beneath my table. Mayhap you can take Robin and Will, you cruel bastard, but you've forgotten one part of the equation.

                Me.

************* ********* *****

A/N: Hi all! I have indeed returned and I'm not dead; aren't you proud of me? *cricket chirps* Erm—yeah. Guess what I did while I was gone though? I got to take archery lessons every Tuesday! I held the bow upside down the first time and sent five arrows into the parking lot, but it was so much fun! Oh, God, when we got into the position and took aim, it felt so Nottingham Archery Tournament!! (Alright, so my friend and I were surrounded by seven and eight year old boys who were ten times better than we were, but it's the principal of the thing, eh?)  My mom thought I was the biggest loser she'd ever met when I came home and told her how cool it was. She gave me that "we need to get you normal friends" look.