"Djaq—" Robin began

"Djaq—" Robin began.

"No," she interrupted.

"Djaq."

"No."

"Djaq," Robin said, his hand on her shoulder. "It's too late."

"No!" Djaq said, batting Will away from her as he tried to gently pull her away from Elizabeth. He managed to get her away from Elizabeth and Allan. "No. No…"

"Now what do we do?" Much asked when they reached their camp. "Allan's been caught, we didn't get the silver, and we still have nothing to eat!"

"Quiet so I can think," Robin said. "We have to rescue Allan. But the Sheriff and Gisborne will be expecting that."

"We could send someone in as a servant," Will suggested.

"No good," Robin replied. "Any one of us would be recognised."

"What about your sister, the wood witch?" Djaq asked. "She wouldn't be recognised, would she?"

Robin tormented over the thought of sending Elizabeth to fight his battles. "No, we're not sending her," he said at last. "She's not going."

"We don't have anyone else, Robin," Much said.

"We're not sending her!"

"Where's Allan?" Robin and his men turned to see Elizabeth standing nearby, holding a bundle of firewood. "Robin," she said. "Where's Allan?"

Her brother hesitated before answering, "We were trying to get a cask of silver from the castle and he was caught. He's in the dungeon by now."

The bundle of firewood fell from her arms as she took in the information her brother divulged to her. "What?" she asked. "Why aren't you going to get him? Why are you still standing here? You have to rescue him; heaven only knows what Gisborne could be doing to him right now!"

Before Robin could stop him, Will asked, "Would you pose as a servant girl and infiltrate the castle, Elizabeth?"

"To free him?" she asked. Will nodded. "Of course I will." She looked at Robin. "Just tell me what to do."

"You're not going," he said firmly.

"What do you mean?" she demanded. "Of course I'm going!"

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am," she said very firmly. "I'm not about to leave Allan in the hands of Guy of Gisborne or the Sheriff of Nottingham. It just isn't going to happen!"

Robin pulled Elizabeth aside. "You could be captured," he warned.

"Then I will be captured."

"You could be killed!"

"It's a price I'm willing to pay as long as it keeps him safe!" she countered.

"You said you don't love him," Robin replied, smug.

"Well, maybe now I do."

Allan looked down and let his eyes gently run over Elizabeth's peaceful face. Her eyes were gently closed, as if she were merely sleeping, and her lips were parted slightly in a gentle pout. It was the pout that forced the bitter tears from Allan. He had known Elizabeth for a long time. And he knew she was not a young woman who ever pouted. She was a strong girl who didn't enjoy receiving help from anyone because she never asked for any help from anyone. And it was the pout that forced him to know she was gone without any hope of coming back to them. Or him.

Holding her closer, he cried into her already tear-soaked hair, murmuring, "No. You can't leave me here, Sunshine. You can't… I need you. I love you… Please… Elizabeth…" He held her and cried while the others looked on, all feeling a great loss of a friend—or sister.

"Allan!" Elizabeth whispered in the dungeon, looking through the cells for her favourite friend. When she found him, he was being held in the backmost and largest cell, chained to the wall, bleeding, bruised and perhaps even a little broken. "Oh, Allan," she murmured, working on the pins in the hinges. "What have they done to you?" After some time and very much effort, Elizabeth was able to remove the pins from the hinges and laboriously open the cell door, using the lock as a hinge.

"Elizabeth?" Allan whispered, his voice hoarse and unused, his expression unfocused and confused. "Why are you here?" She began working on the shackles that bound him to the wall, using the tools Will had lent her. "Where's Robin?"

"They thought it best if I came for you," she explained quickly. "They're waiting for us behind the kitchens." She freed one of his arms from the wall. "I need you stay awake with me, Allan. Focus. What did Gisborne do to you?"

He laughed a little. "What didn't he do?" he asked in response. "Tortured me for information about Robin and the men. And he beat me just for fun."

"What did he want to know?" she asked.

"He wanted to know our location," he said, coughing up a little blood. "Wanted to know about our weaknesses. Specifically Robin's." Elizabeth freed his other hand and he grabbed her arms and looked in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, his expression grim. Tears began rolling down his cheeks. "Elizabeth, I'm so sorry."

She felt her face grow pale. "Allan, what did you tell them?" she demanded.

"I told them about you," he choked through his sobs. "I told him where your cottage is—I said it was our camp. And I told them that you were the only woman apart from Marian that he would die to protect." He sobbed harder. "I'm so sorry, Elizabeth. I'm sorry!"

"I know, Allan," she said gently, slipping his arm over her shoulders. "Come on. Let's get you to Robin." And together they hobbled their way to the kitchens without attracting attention to themselves. "Be careful with him," she warned Little John when she handed Allan off. Then she looked at her brother. "I'm going back for the silver."

"No—don't!" Robin said. "It's too dangerous!"

"I won't be suspected," she assured him. "They do not know me here. I'll simply slip in and out and no one will be the wiser for it."

"But he knows, Elizabeth," Allan protested.

"I know," she replied, kissing his cheek. "I'll be all right. I was taught by the best, after all. Now, get him out of here before someone catches us and we're all hanged!" She disappeared into the kitchens before the men could protest.

Avoiding the guards and soldiers that patrolled the castle corridors by dodging into shadows, Elizabeth silently made her way to the Sheriff's chambers and slipped inside. Thanking God no one was there, she quickly began searching the chambers for the lock-box full of silver Robin had told her about on their way to break Allan out of the dungeon. "Where is it?" she muttered. A sound at the door made her pause. Thinking quickly, she dropped to the ground and crawled under the bed. She couldn't see where she was going in the darkness under the bed and she hit her head gently on the lock-box she was looking for.

Rubbing her head, she waited silently for the Sheriff to leave. He was shouting at Gisborne as he walked around his chambers. "Explain to me, again, how you allowed for that man to break out of jail without you even hearing it," he demanded. "Was your jailer elsewhere? Have you gone deaf?"

"No, sir—"

"He was the only one of Hood's men who ever provided us with any helpful information!" the Sheriff yelled.

"I'm aware of that, sir," Gisborne said when the Sheriff paused to take a breath. "When we went to the cottage, no one was there."

"Burned it?"

"Yes, sir," Gisborne said. Elizabeth grit her teeth in anger. Everything she ever owned was in that cottage. "Jail break happened while I was there."

"I take it you will punish your jailer accordingly."

"Yes, sir."

The two men stood in silence for a moment while the stone of the floor dug into Elizabeth's hips and elbows. "The question is," the Sheriff began, "how do we find Elizabeth, Lady of Huntington? Who is she?"

"I've never heard of her," Gisborne said.

"Surely there's some evidence of her existence in Locksley," the Sheriff replied. "Any one bedchamber more feminine than the others when you moved in?"

"No."

"Interesting," the Sheriff said thoughtfully. Footsteps approached the bed. "What are you doing?"

"Just making sure the silver is still there," Gisborne answered. Elizabeth's eyes widened in a slight panic. "Maybe he finished his job after breaking out of the dungeon." Gisborne reached under the bed, feeling around for the lock-box. He came dangerously close to Elizabeth. To avoid him, she scrunched as far away from him without moving and drawing his attention as possible. But she saw his fingers touch the fabric of her skirt. The bed dressing was lifted up and Elizabeth, for the first time, made eye contact with Sir Guy of Gisborne. "Hello, precious."

"Precious?" the Sheriff repeated. "Did you just call me—" Gisborne dragged Elizabeth out from under the bed. "—precious?" An unnerving smile spread across the Sheriff's face. "Elizabeth of Locksley, Lady of Huntington, I presume?"

"Lady of Bonchurch, thank you," Elizabeth replied shortly.

"But you do admit you're Elizabeth of Locksley," the Sheriff said, trying to clarify. She didn't say anything, she merely glared at him. The Sheriff looked her up and down. He snatched up her hands and looked at her palms. "Rough and calloused working hands." He dropped her hands. "You are exactly as your friend described you." He looked at Gisborne over Elizabeth's shoulder. "To the dungeon," he said brightly. Gisborne roughly dragged her away.