The darkened silhouettes of two figures, one tall, one small, made their way into the camp. They were barely noticed by the dozing outlaws who had fallen asleep in the time they'd been absence. Only Will, who seemed to be on watch, was half awake, his eyes heavily lidded and his head nodding off to one side.

"Aw, they're all so exhausted," Grace smiled at the man by her side. Ranulf offered a small grin in return as they both picked their way through the outlaws sprawled every which way. "Hey, where's Robin?"

"Um….he disappeared when you did. I thought he would be back by now but seems not. Strange." Ranulf scanned the sleeping bodies but saw that Grace was correct and her father was absent.

"I wonder what he's doing. Ah well, we'll find out in the morning," the young girl yawned widely and collapsed on a vacant loft by her elbow.

"Speaking of morning, it's only a few hours 'til sunrise," Ranulf commented dryly as the youngster practically fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. He smiled tenderly at the child; she reminded him a lot of his little siblings. He hoped, had Elspeth grown up, she would've turned out something like Grace, brave, feisty and independent.

It was strange, after all these years of lying and hiding the man felt at peace with himself, calm and relaxed. He didn't feel the need to jump to attention every time Gisborne wanted him to rat out a villager. He felt truly liberated.

Robin crept silently, like a predator closing in on its prey, towards the bed. He could see the steady rise and fall of the bed's occupant's chest beneath the numerous covers. There was a sudden snuffle and a mumble as the Sheriff shifted on the mattress in an effort to get more comfortable.

"No, Gisborne, get Hood. Get him now you blithering idiot. I want his head! And I want my money, if you can't get Hood save my gold!" Vaisey cried in his sleep, swatting at imaginary guards.

"Nice to know that not only do I torment you in the day, I am still on your mind at night," Robin hissed in the older man's ear, his knife in place by the soft skin of his enemy's exposed neck.

"What?! Hood!" the Sheriff yelped, sitting up abruptly, his eyes wide and fearful, "What are you doing in my bedroom?"

"I have come to make a little proposition to you," the outlaw leader whispered, his voice menacing. It wasn't often that he would threaten the Sheriff but this was important.

"And what would that be? You know, aren't you making a bit of a habit of cornering me in my bedroom? Are you trying to tell me something," Vaisey sneered, his usual filthy humour returning despite the sharp point digging into his neck.

"Drop the façade, Vaisey, you're scared," Robin snarled, fed up with his nonchalant attitude, "I want you to leave my children alone."

"And why on earth would I do that my little hooded pal?"

"Because, you see how easy it was for me to break in here undetected. You harm my children and I'll kill you," Robin spoke softly by his voice was laced with venom.

"Ah, I see," the Sheriff nodded in understanding, "So if I leave your itsy bitsy kiddy-winkies alone you won't creep into my bedroom and murder me in my sleep? Usually, I would not take your blackmail to heart but this time I think I may." The older man said this because he could see the hate burning in Robin's eyes. "Is that all?"

"Yes, but I want you to sign this as proof of our deal," the rebel removed a piece of paper from his jerkin and handed it to the Sheriff.

I, Vaisey, Sheriff of Nottingham, promise not to harm the children of Robin of Locksley because if I do then I will perish.

"Hmm, how pleasant," Vaisey murmured before nodding reluctantly and signing the piece of paper with his seal, "Now, is that all?"

"Yes, I will get out before you call your guards. Goodbye," Robin smirked and sprinted for the door.

"Cheerio then!" the Sheriff shouted after him before grumbling to himself, "Dratted outlaw." There was no point in calling the guards as he was certain that Hood was correct and he could easily evade them. Instead Vaisey settled back under in blankets.

When Grace woke the next morning she discovered that for the most part the outlaws still hadn't stirred, bar Johnny who was perched on a tree branch on look-out.

"Mornin' Gracie," he nodded politely and she smiled back.

"Good morning to you," she said and then inspected the gang again to find that Robin had also returned and fallen asleep, one of his arms was wrapped suspiciously around Marian. However one person was absent. "Where is Ranulf, Johnny?"

"Um…I think he went down to the stream to wash. If you ask me he needed it."

"Thanks," Grace nodded before struggling off the loft she was lying on and padding towards the direction she knew the stream was in.

Upon arriving at the flow of water she saw Ranulf sitting by the bank looking rather upset and frustrated with himself. Grace was concerned about what was wrong with him. Carefully, she clambered over the rocks lining the waterway and walked up quietly behind the young man. She then sat beside him.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," came the immediate blunt reply.

"Aw, come on, I can tell you're upset. I'm not blind," Grace commented.

"It's going to sound stupid though," Ranulf admitted, looking desperate.

"Tell me."

"I can't wash because I can't get my clothes off with my hands injured."

"Oh! Do you want me to help?" Grace suggested, cautiously, wondering whether the grown man would accept her aid.

She remembered a time when she was younger, around eight, and her mother, well her adoptive mother, had gone out to the market in Nottingham. Her father had been out with her brothers in the fields working whilst she cooked the dinner with her sister helping. However, earlier than expected, her father, Oliver, had returned in a lot of pain. He had been gored by a rogue bull but for some reason he would not allow her to help him wash or dress the wounds. The man hadn't even let her in the room whilst he battled with the pain of removing his clothes. She knew that he hadn't wanted her to see his tears because then he would look weak but it was a ridiculous idea. She still viewed him as her strong, brave father no matter what he did.

"Um…well…" for some reason Grace couldn't fathom Ranulf looked embarrassed, a red flush overcoming his neck and cheeks, "If you don't mind."

"Don't be silly, of course I don't mind," the girl shook her head, "Ok, lift you arms above your head and I'll pull the shirt up."

Ranulf did as he was told and Grace removed the clothing garment. It was filthy and she decided that he didn't need it anymore. It had so many rips and tears in it that it wasn't worth salvaging.

The young man's torso was littered with old scars and scratches, most likely from his abusive father, Grace thought. The skin was also caked with a healthy dose of grime and she knew it would take a lot of scrubbing to get it off. Ranulf couldn't do it with his hands so she determined that she could wash him just how she had helped bathe her younger siblings.

She didn't realise how much humiliation and discomfort this would cause the young man as she began wiping and scrubbing his muddy back. He jumped as she did so, tensing up.

"You are filthy, Ranulf," Grace shook her head, rubbing harder, "When did you last wash?"

"Um…I'm not sure," the man admitted.

"Ergh, that's gross, who knows what could be living in your hair," Grace stated and with that she grabbed the back of his head and dunked it in the steadily flowing stream. The water was freezing and Ranulf gasped as he came up for air.

"What was that for?!"

"I need to find that soapy root thing that my mu….Sally used for us. Be right back."

Grace vanished for awhile before appearing with an odd shaped plant which she was twisting to create a strange foam. She then took the foamy liquid and began lathering it in Ranulf's hair.

"After I'm done with you the others won't recognise you."

True to her word, as the couple arrived back at the camp, the outlaws, who had finally risen and were going about their daily chores, all had to give a double-take. The man they had seen yesterday looked completely different.

Grace had washed Ranulf's hair and cut it with a sharp knife much to the man's protests so it didn't hang lankly around his face. She'd scrubbed his face and his top half but left him some dignity in doing his bottom half. She had also pilfered some of the other guys' clothes so Ranulf could have cleaner, less tatty clothes. The only thing that the girl hadn't been able to change was the man's teeth which were still tinted yellow and gappy. However that was how plenty of peasants' teeth were and they could be improved by brushing.

"Wow," the gang were impressed.

"You clean up nice, Ranulf," Johnny commented.

"Yeah," the others nodded in agreement, coming over to actually properly get to know the young man, now he didn't seem so grubby and unapproachable.

Robin and Marian hung back however and Grace noticed them.

"Grace, Tristan, I think we need to talk."

Um...next chapter is probably the last! Please help me get to a hundred reviews!