A/N: Dear sweet, lovely readers. I did say I'm sorry if I remember. And I mean it! I am terribly, awfully sorry that it took so long to update between chapters 11 and 12. BUT. I am giving you this chapter as an additional I'm sorry. Despite all of my heartfelt apologies I recieved only one review. I loved it, but I'm a greedy little thing and am desperate for more. So, if you love me and this story, you'll shoot me a review this time!
This chapter has a little less going on but it has a cute bit of past Djaq/Allan and give you a little bit on what dear lil Djaq has gotten herself into now. So read, enjoy and review!
Chapter 13: A Jail by Any Other Name
Djaq awoke slowly, her head pounding as if she had been run over by a charging warhorse. She stifled the groan she was desperate to release, remembering the training that Allan taught her when he was still a member of the gang. She smiled internally at the memory, just the thought of her sly lover making her pain disappear.
"Teach me something Allan, make me a perfect con just like you," Djaq winked mischievously, earning a mock look of indignation from Allan.
"Me? Allan A'Dale, a 'con'? I've never heard anything so outrageous in my life, and I've heard drunken speeches in every pub in England mind you," he flashed one of his heart-melting grins and Djaq couldn't help but blush. Little did he know how she truly felt about him…
"Come on Allan, teach me one of those tricks you always have up your sleeves. You never know when I may need to use one."
"Alright love, alright. Don't go getting your knickers in a twist," when he got close enough Djaq slapped him in the back of his head.
"My underclothes happen to be none of your business Mister A'Dale!" the fiery Saracen scolded him, red blooming once more across her high cheekbones.
"Well love, they certainly are when you lay them out with the rest of the lads' clothes to dry after a washing. Hope you don't mind if I helped myself to a look…"
Tired of his teasing Djaq stood up suddenly, attempting to move away from Allan's talented tongue, which never seemed to let her cheeks take a break from flaming at his comments. Before she could move far however, he grabbed a wrist and pulled her down on top of his lap, immobilizing her completely. She couldn't think let alone move, she could only feel the burning sensation of Allan's fingers wrapped around her wrist, his muscular legs balancing her weight, and the broad expanse of his chest pushed up against her back. She could feel his muscles straining beneath the thin cotton of his shirt, and when she looked out of the corner of her eye she could see the hollow at the base of his neck.
Suddenly, the empty camp felt incredibly warm.
She looked straight ahead now, trying with all her willpower to ignore the feelings Allan was stirring deep within her and instead focus on counting the amount of logs Much had stacked into the corner of the kitchen.
"Djaq", Allan leaned forward and whispered into her ear.
One…two…three…she silently counted to herself. The logs Djaq, think of the damn logs.
"Relax love; I'm not going to pull anything. Just lay back and let me teach you liked you asked", Allan's voice deepened and sounded far huskier than it had a few seconds ago, and Djaq suppressed the ripple of shivers that threatened to expose her.
Was that disappointment she felt at his comment, or relief? Djaq couldn't seem to tell which way her feelings fell around the smooth talker anymore.
Allan tugged at her arm and Djaq simply followed his lead, allowing him to pull her down to against his side, sandwiched between Allan and the wall of the camp.
"Now, first lesson is how to become aware of your surroundings," Allan closed his eyes and leaned back against his pillow.
"I'm very aware of our surroundings Allan, we're in the camp," Djaq moved to climb over him but was stopped once more by Allan's strong hands.
"Not so hasty love, and that's not exactly what I meant. What I mean is, what can you learn with your eyes closed? What can you hear, smell, feel and sense? This can be a very useful tool when you're perhaps blindfolded or you need to pretend you're asleep," Djaq lay back down slowly, watching Allan's lips as he began to instruct her on what exactly to do. She could barely make out the words, the soft pink skin that was slightly moistened from his incessant lip-licking distracted her to no end.
Finally she closed her eyes and placed her head on Allan's pillow next to the man himself, and breathed in his husky scent. The forest mixed with leather and some type of underlying alcohol from his nights of gathering information in Nottingham's pubs; the small was entirely intoxicating.
"Alright Djaq, here's the trick, you need to FEEL what's around you. Soak it in and piece it together, like a puzzle. The more clues you can pick out, the more likely you are to figure out where exactly you are and the more likely you are to have the upper hand. So, first thing you try to sense is what position you're in," Allan opened one eye into a slit and looked at Djaq questioningly. She snorted none-too-gently and replied back quickly.
"Well Allan, currently I'm trapped on my friend's bed sandwiched against a wall. How's that for my first try?" Allan gave a hearty laugh as his response, the action shaking the bed and warming Djaq's chest.
"Very good love, I'd say spot on. Now, tell me what you can smell."
She breathed in deeply and tried to push past the overwhelming essence of man that Allan seamlessly exuded. She could smell...fresh air seeping in around the edges, coupled with rich earth and rain drying from the leaves of trees. She could hear the trees, rustling above their heads and calling out to each other in a never ending conversation. Breathing in once more she smelled wood and leather and a fire that had been put out a few hours ago.
She relayed this back to Allan one by one and the trickster split a smile from ear to ear.
"Excellent Djaq! Now you're getting the hang of it, with help from the best teacher around if I do say so myself," Djaq elbowed him in the ribs, sending Allan back into another round of chuckles.
"Now Djaq, this is the hardest part. Working on what exactly you sense. It's that tingling sense you get when someone is watching you; strengthen that feeling. Now, let's see what you can do. I'm going to move around the room, I want you to tell me where you can feel me." As soon as he moved away from her Djaq ached his warmth.
Focus woman, focus.
Ten attempts later Djaq still hadn't gotten one guess right.
"This is completely hopeless Allan!" Djaq opened her eyes and growled in frustration, moving to finally get off the bed and stretch.
"Alright Djaq, one more try and then you're free to go. I promise."
Djaq eyed him suspiciously and closed her eyes once more while she lay on Allan's cot. She tried to blank out her mind and sense where Allan was in the room. And then…she felt him. But that couldn't be right, or else he would be…
Djaq opened her eyes slowly only to find Allan's face right next to hers, his brilliant green-blue eyes boring into her. The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly at seeing Djaq's blush rise once more.
"You found me," Allan whispered as he leaned in for a soft brush of the lips.
Djaq clung desperately to the remnants of her memory as it faded slowly away. She turned her focus to the task at hand: obtaining information on her surroundings. Like Allan had taught her long ago, she kept her breathing solid and even, in case anyone was in the room and noticed her sudden alteration. Inhaling deeply, Djaq absorbed the scents of what was around her.
Her first breath drew in the smell of scented candles, the melting wax smelling of vanilla and lavender. Strange she thought to herself. What sort of dungeon has sweet-smelling candles?
Another whiff brought on fresh air from an open window, wafting in with a slight chilly breeze. More and more unusual…
Her third deep breath brought forth the scent of white milky cheese, fresh fruit (hard to come by at this time of the year), and smoky meat. She couldn't hear any specific sounds giving away another person in the room; no floorboards creaked in the corner, there were no footsteps outside what she presumed to be the doorway, and even the open window brought in no outside noise.
It's secluded, wherever this is. And they're feeding me? What strange place is this?
She could feel herself lying in soft blankets, thick with goose feathers and soft with a fresh washing. She could also feel herself wearing something lighter, far lighter than her heavy leather vest, her woolen tunic and thick breeches. Djaq was clothed in a delicate shift, the fabric made of the softest cotton. Discomfort immediately enveloped her; never had she enjoyed wearing a dress rather than trousers.
Finally, after grasping some sense of where exactly she was, Djaq warily broke open her gaze. Her guesses were entirely correct. Candles blazed in the corners of the room and food sat on the table nearest to her left. The window showed a blue sky beyond and was open enough to allow breezes of cold, fresh air to invade the room. The bed she lay within was massive, with thick comforters enveloping her completely. Much to her disgust, Djaq was indeed garbed in nothing more than a white shift, lace sewn in about the edges. To her extreme relief, she was completely and utterly alone.
Thank Allah for that. Now to find a way out…
Djaq threw off the covers and regretted immediately their lack of warmth. Her sheer shift was sickeningly thing for the current weather and her skin broke out in goose bumps from the breeze which made the candlelight dance and sputter. As soon as she sat up Djaq fell back upon the bed.
Her head spun and her eyes saw red with the pain. Before she could stop herself she wretched into the nearest bowl she could find, her stomach emptying the meager contents it had left. Though she tried to stifle her sounds, she knew that whoever was left in the house had heard her and her hopes of escape were entirely dashed.
Wiping her mouth with a shaky hand when she was finished, she lay back under the covers and closed her eyes, hoping the pain that continually beat against her skull would soon recede. Her heart began to beat faster and faster as she counted the seconds that ticked by, waiting for her captor to climb open her room and inflict what tortures he has upon her.
Was I wrong? Perhaps no one is here after all!
Slowly this time, Djaq rose once more and stumbled over to the open window. Her body protested in reaction to both the pain and the cold, but her Saracen stubbornness pushed her to continue on. Eventually she came to the window and looked down upon the rest of the world.
She guessed she was about three stories up, higher than most regular country houses. Trees dotted out in a wide circle about the house as far as the eye could see, and Djaq silently cursed the fact that she was far from any possible help. A small stable sat in the corner of the clearing and Djaq could see a young boy working within. Ah, there is someone else here. Scanning the grounds for more people, Djaq found a woman no older than seventeen drawing water from a well and nearby an old bearded man milked a cow which has seen far better days.
Other than these few people, Djaq could see no one else. What danger stood between her and freedom? A young boy, a teenage girl, an ancient man and a collection of farm animals? Djaq smiled and couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of relief; her escape should be no problem at all.
Spinning around to head off in search of some fresh clothes, Djaq froze as she finally saw her obstacle. He sat on the edge of her bed, lazily spinning a dagger between the fingers of his right hand. He looked at Djaq with some humor, as if guessing what she had just been thinking.
Inspecting him, Djaq tried to gauge her chance of success at overpowering the man in front of her, taking into account the fact that she was weaponless and most likely delirious from the knock on her head. He was tall; she could tell that even from his sitting position. His shoulders were incredibly broad and strong, and he held himself with an air of well-earned arrogance. Obviously he was rarely challenged by others.
Begrudgingly she admitted that he was in fact handsome, though she was always partial to the easy-going charm of a certain bronze haired trickster. The man mirrored a Greek Adonis, with angelic tumbles of white blonde hair falling to the ends of his ears and curling around the nape of his neck. His cheek bones were highly prominent and a strong jaw was defined with a subtle cleft in his chin. His curvy lips were tinged pink and outwardly showed his amusement at seeing Djaq in the window.
His eyes however shook Djaq to her core. The pupils simply blended into his irises, the blackness of them standing out starkly from the whites of his eyes. Her father had always told her that the eyes were the windows to the soul, but Djaq felt as if this man had no soul. Surely he meant her nothing but harm, and Djaq felt helpless to his will.
She suddenly remembered her most indecent appearance and a blush spread furiously over her cheeks and down her neck. Djaq made no move to cover herself however, and prayed that this stranger would simply ignore the sheerness of the slip she was placed in. Hopefully it was the teenage girl she had seen that dressed her in these new clothes and not the terrifying man who sat before her.
Neither said anything for what felt like hours, and finally the man spoke so suddenly that Djaq couldn't help but jump slightly at the sound.
"I'm glad to see that you're awake Djaq. I was worried that I hit you just a little too hard over the head; sadly my mother was never quite good at teaching me pleasantries," he smiled at her then. A smile which perhaps could have won over many women, had he not seemed so sinister in context.
Djaq's curious mind suddenly fluttered with questions, though she was fearful to even say a word to this strange man. How could he know my name? I've never seen him before, I don't even know his name.
When she said nothing, the bright-haired man continued, his eyes never leaving Djaq's fact though his hands were still busy tossing the dagger which glinted threateningly in the candle light.
"Well I do hope you don't mind the clothes dear Margaret has dressed you in. Those rags you had before were simply filthy and would ruin your lovely sheets. As for your weapons well…where on Earth would you even put them?" He smiled once more, his teeth sparkling dangerously like the fangs of a wolf.
If she wasn't blushing before, she certainly was now.
He did notice the outfit before, Oh Allah. At least it was the girl who undressed me. But my weapons, he has taken my weapons. What in Allah's name can I do now?
"Sad to say you will need some more changes of clothes, seeing as you'll be staying here well…indefinitely. I certainly cannot let you run back into the forest to find Robin dearest and continue on being the nuisance that you are. Though I don't doubt that his band of men will dearly miss their bed warmer," he winked and Djaq felt her head and stomach spinning once again.
He even knows about Robin. And the men. Who could this be?
Still she said not word, relying solely on her captor to make conversation. He began once more, standing and flashing his height as he did so.
"You won't be leaving just yet. I have some plans for you my Saracen beauty. But please, don't jump to the conclusion that you're necessarily my prisoner. Rather, you should be thinking that you are my most honored guest! This lovely house, the bed and the food, it should be a utopian retreat compared to that freezing forest out there. Just be a lamb for now, and we can talk more of your future at a later time. For now I'll go and get Margaret to clean up the, ah, mess you've made in your wash bowl. Knocks on the head can damage the best of us."
His words may have seemed almost kind, until he gave his final words nonchalantly in the doorway. "Just so you know Djaq, you won't be receiving help from Margaret. Or Thomas or Brandon for that matter. Deaf to the world, all of them. So don't think you'll be able to woo the help into aiding your escape. You're stuck here My Lady," he mocked with grim humor, "so you better get used to it."
Later, as Margaret cleaned out her bowl and brushed out her short, choppy hair, Djaq couldn't help but think that a prisoner was exactly what she was.
A/N: I hope you guys don't mind how short this one was...at least I reviewed right? I must say I enjoyed writing this one, it had a little touch of everything! I also needed a connecting chapter between Djaq's chapter and when everyone starts to worry. But I can't say more or else I'll give away all my secrets! For now just please do me a favor and REVIEW! If everyone who's reading this sent me one, I think I might just cry from happiness...