-The Outlaws' Camp-

As they rode deeper into the forest, Elsie tried to imagine what sort of rustic accommodations they had managed to live in. At the very best, she figured they might have been living in a cave, which would have protected them from the elements and kept them hidden from the enemy. At the worst, she figured they might have been sleeping among the twigs and leaves with nothing but a fire for warmth. She never could have imagined the hidden fortress they had built, tucked safely away in the densest part of the wood.

The outlaws' camp had been constructed to suit their needs and compliment their lifestyle. They had a cooking area, plenty of storage, bunks for each of the men, and even, what looked like a retractable roof designed to keep the more foul weather at bay. Elsie stood at one end, admiring the handiwork while the two men immediately set to work. Much bustled around the make-shift kitchen, busying himself with the evening's cooking; Allan crouched over the fire pit, feeding the tiny flames with bits of wood.

Upon their arrival both men had insisted that Elsie do nothing, so she settled down by the fire, quietly watching it dance in the pit. Sitting there in silence, thinking about the events that had passed, her whole body started to ache and her mind felt numb, clouding the reality of what she had been through. There were fragments, like some terrible nightmare, flashing through her head, but nothing seemed to fit together. She felt nothing; all the feelings and emotions had been set aside, hovering over her head like a dark and heavy rain cloud waiting to burst.

---

A branch snapped in the distance, waking Elsie with a start; she didn't even remember falling asleep. The sun was on its downward course toward the horizon, indicating that she had been sleeping for quite some time. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around for the others--both Allan and Much were sitting close by. Allan had an empty plate in one hand and was gazing distantly into the fire. Much was forcefully skewering meat and vegetables onto a broken arrow, looking grim; sensing her gaze, he looked up.

"Oh! My Lady, you are awake," he stated plainly. "Hungry?"

Not waiting for her reply, he handed her one of the plates with a few pieces of the kabob. At first Elsie peered suspiciously at the dish, having never seen food cooked in such a way. It smelled heavenly and, when she finally got around to it, tasted even more so; she hadn't had a proper meal in days. Nibbling on the edge of a potato, Elsie kept a close watch on the other two, wondering why they were so devoid of emotion. Slowly it dawned on her as she scanned the surrounding camp.

"Robin's not back?"

Much pursed his lips. The arrow he was holding arched to a near breaking point. "No," he mumbled, shooting an agitated look at Allan.

"Shouldn't he be back by now?" she inquired anxiously. When neither of them replied or even looked at her, Elsie frowned. "Well?"

"Yes," Much spat truthfully, chucking the useless arrow into the flames. He stood up, attempting to relieve his anxiety. "We should do something!"

Allan scoffed. "And what exactly do you have in mind? Knock on the castle door and ask if the sheroff is he's seen our friends. We would be walking right back into his hands."

"Maybe they have been captured. Maybe they got away, but are injured somewhere. Maybe they are being tortured at the castle. Maybe they have been--" Much stopped, unable to say the word. He sniffed softly and kicked at a root in the ground.

Elsie's eyes stung with tears; she had been thinking along the same lines as Much. Just then, a loud voice boomed nearby.

"There are no maybes about it!"

Robin smirked, leading the two other men--still dressed as guards--into camp. There was something about one of the phony guards that looked vaguely familiar, but Elsie brushed the thought aside as she locked eyes on the only face that mattered to her--a face that she had been longing to see since she had left Wycombe, but it was not the face she remembered from those many years ago. Naturally, the passing of time had aged him--he had grown to look like their father with his strong features and that air of nobility--but she could see that the long years spent in war had taken their toll on him as well. As he drew nearer, she could see traces of stress and weariness in the lines of his face, but his eyes still held that familiar glint of fiery mischief lurking far beneath his war-hardened exterior.

It was then--in that moment--that the rain cloud of emotion broke open and the reality of what had passed came pouring down on her. She felt unsteady on her feet as her knees began to shake; her arms hung uselessly at her sides, unable to wipe away the tears that were cascading down her cheeks. She could hardly see Robin's face through the blur of tears when he took her in his arms, resting his chin gently on the top of her head. Sobbing into his chest, it was difficult to separate the relief from the joy on this occasion. When some of her emotion had lifted, Elsie wrapped her arms around Robin, thankful for this moment.

"I am so sorry," Robin said when he had finally regained his breath; his eyes glistened as well at the sight of his little sister, glad to see her safe.

At the sound of Robin's voice, Elsie pulled away and wiped her face on the back of her tattered sleeve. She looked over at her brother, who was unknowingly mimicking her action, and chuckled. He glanced up, grinning; it was that grin, more than anything, that finally made her feel like she was home.

She threw her arms around him once more, just to be sure he was truly there. Again, her eyes welled, but these were tears of pure joy. "Robin of Locksley, I have missed you."

"I have missed you too, Lady Elisabeth," he said happily, holding her out at arms length to have a proper look at her. "Has it really been seven years?"

"It felt ages longer though."

Robin laughed. "And in that time, it seems I have lost my clumsy little sister to some beautiful noble lady."

Beautiful wasn't exactly the word she would have chosen to describe her current appearance, but she was in no mood to argue the point.

"Still clumsy actually." Elsie smiled and wiped the last of the tears away. She glanced around at the wild surroundings. "I see you haven't changed a bit. Still rebelling against authority..."

Robin chuckled with a nod. "We will touch more on that later. I think it is time I introduced you to the rest of the gang."

He led her to where the others had gathered. They were sitting at a small table eating cheerfully and swapping stories from their latest outing to Nottingham. It was obvious they were trying to give Robin and Elsie a bit of privacy for their reunion.

"Lads," Robin announced when they neared; four pairs of eyes turned toward them. "I would like to properly introduce you to my sister, Elisabeth."

As the other men looked at her, Elsie felt her cheeks color as she smiled shyly. Although they were men of the wood, she still wanted to make a good impression on them; suddenly, with their attention drawn on her, she was very aware of herself. It pained her to think that she was standing before them--a noble lady--wearing a grimy, tattered dress, her hair all out of sorts, and her eyes all red and puffy from crying. It was insanely embarrassing for a lady of her station to be in such disarray and the color in her cheeks deepened with her realization.

Unaware of her inner turmoil, Robin carried on with his introductions. He started with Much, though the introduction was unnecessary as Much was basically a part of the family, which explained his tearful state.

"You know Allan-A-Dale by now as well."

A half smile touched Allan's lips when he was mentioned. Elsie nodded and greeted him with a smile.

"This here is Little John," Robin continued, gesturing toward the big man sitting opposite Allan.

John gave a warm smile and raised a hand in greeting; Elsie returned the smile.

"And finally, to the newest member of our gang--"

Now with a proper look at the fifth member of the gang, Elsie suddenly realized why she had recognized that face.