I am so sorry this update is so late! I've been very busy lately and my muse has been in the dumps for this story, Under the Willow Tree and Thief of Hearts. I've only really been able to type up Checkmate (a Dracula/OC story) and a new Joker/OC idea I got after watching SS (which was good, not the best but good). This story get's moving this chapter despite it's short length. This is kind of a filler but it leads up to some very important ironical scenes. I thank everyone who has stuck with me despite my delay in posting, and I must also apologize for grammar mistakes. I haven't gone back to check this chapter out so I could post it quicker. I'd also like to thank those who reviewed to me.

sonick: Thanks so much! I'm happy to hear you like this story and I hope I can continue to entertain you throughout following chapters!

Chris-52: Very good question! When Will resurfaces the circumstances will be very different, but that shall be explained when the time comes.

191987: Thanks for the review as always, they always make me smile like an idiot when I read them! The Sheriff and Langley will be clashing a lot in coming chapters, so I hope to hear how you like that. And as I said earlier in the AN I will try to post ASAP I just don't want to post bad qualitiy. Which is why I was/am reluctant to post this chapter - I don't believe it's my best work.

Strange-Adrianna: Thanks a lot! I try my best to portray the Sheriff accurately and make Langley a good character but not a Mary-Sue type. You review was greatly appreciated!

Artlover: Yes, poor Langley. But you must not pity her quite yet, it's about to get worse.

I may come back and edit this chapter so it's of higher quality, but please leave con-crit so I can fix where there are errors. Like is it too rushed, not explained well, too confusing.. Thanks!

-Dev

Chapter 12: Bloody Lips

Promptly after being dismissed from the Sheriff's presence, Langley was taken to the dungeons where many men were chained and bloody, and she was beaten. She had managed to stay silent during the pain, only grunting or occasionally yelping in sudden pain, but her body was numb and tongue captured between her teeth. She would not give them the satisfaction of her pained screams, nor the Sheriff the pleasure.

Many days passed like this, or perhaps it wasn't many days at all, for in the dungeons no light from outside was visible and therefore no time could be told. Langley could assume based on the meal schedule and when the guards were drunk—which was usually in the evenings—what time it was, but both were inconsistent. Often meals were missed, and the guards drunk in the morning.

Time wasn't a factor she particularly cared for, though. In the dungeons she thought of her family often, something she didn't think she'd do. She thought of her father, her mother, how great of parents they were despite having banished her. She thought of her sisters and how they were probably married off and with child. They wouldn't expect her to be chained to the devil, one she yearned for; and she often wondered if they thought of her well being. They definitely would never expect it to be in such a fragile state.

There was little entertainment save from her own thoughts. Langley's skin was constantly bleeding and throbbing with pain, though often she would wake up with bandages covering her worse wounds. It seemed the Sheriff didn't want her to bleed out, at least he had some manners.

Often there was nothing to do but concentrate on oneself, it was every man for himself, but Langley never liked that. She was all for self-survival, but if she could help distract these hopeless men she would. And she did. Some didn't bother, but in the short time she had made a few companions to confide her pain in. They shared it after all, and she was happy for their presence. They were honorable men, all there for the sake of their family or some other crime they didn't deserve to live out. Langley didn't know how they went on, but from what she'd heard, being the newbie came with the most punishments, and her reputation wasn't helping her a bit.

"How many lashes was that last one 'ere Langley?"

The woman of interest rolled onto her stomach from her side, grunting at the shock of pain that exploded in her back at the movement. "Thirty I think, but I've got a feeling the guard was going easy on me."

"Easy? I don't know how you do it lassy."

"You've been here longer than me, Carrow, I don't know how you do it. I wouldn't last that long in a million years." Langley was being truthful, she wasn't sure how much longer she could keep her mouth shut during these sessions of torture. She was also quite serious about how the guard - Lestrade was his name - was going easy on her. She'd noticed the man that had wished her good luck had taken on the lot of her punishments, not that she was complaining. He was nice, and occasionally he would even give her an extra piece of food. Langley never understood why, but she never asked.

"I haven't been punished more 'an you have in the last few days in my whole time 'ere!" He retorted, chains jingling as he tried to sit up, a dry laugh coming from his throat.

"That's a lie and we both know it." Langley said with the roll of her eyes, wincing as sweat trickled into her open wounds on her back.

"Maybe, but you don't give yourself enough credit. For a lass you're strong."

They both shared a chuckle, but it was void of any real happiness. Carrow had been her confidant in these harsh times, as he too usually experienced the brunt of the torture for his sharp mouth and even sharper punches. Langley was sure she wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of them.

It was only a matter of time before he was killed for his misbehavior, not that she was an angel herself. She was determined to spit and fight as much as she could, even taunting her oppressors when it wasn't her favorite guard. They always got angry and whipped her harder, but they wouldn't kill her unless they wished to invoke the Sheriff's wrath. He was her greatest enemy, yet he was also her trump card. Her fallback. God damn him.

Langley coughed, a clot of blood falling on the ground before her as she tried to block out the pain. She felt like she could sleep for a million years as long as she didn't have to move. "I suppose so."

A comfortable silence settled in, though when it was occasionally broken, it was by groans and moans and heavy breathing that was all laced in pain and despair. Langley was quite acquainted with the feeling, being trapped down where she was without hope of escape was a horrible thing. Did she really have to abide by her promise? If she didn't then the Sheriff may very well burn the whole forest looking for her and her people, but what were to be the casualties if she stayed? Mental and physical scarring for sure, but would he try anything else? Langley was sure the good Sheriff had something more up that black sleeve of his…

Before she could muse anymore on that topic the doors burst open and four guards poured in the room with their swords drawn. Langley was slightly scared as they stalked in her direction, and when the door to her cell was opened and she was yanked to her feet after unlocking the handcuffs she suddenly felt sick. She didn't know if she'd be able to stay strong for much longer, and the thought of being otherwise made her nauseous. Would they kill her? Torture her until she begged for death?

What they had in store for her she wasn't sure she wished to imagine, so Langley kept her head down and mind blank as she was dragged by the arms into the torture chamber. Short term prisoners were kept there, which was why she supposed she had her own cell—they wouldn't be through with her all too quickly. Langley was sure she'd rather be a short term prisoner because they died within a week, but that seemed a far away dream to her as they shackled her wrists to the roof and left her dangling.

Langley's toes barely brushed the ground at this stretched height, it was painful on her wrists but that dull throbbing always managed to help blur out the sharp pains the guards inflicted upon her. She looked up through hooded eyes at the man in front of her. Usually she had quite the coug of people watching her, most waiting to take their turn in lashing at her back with some sort of device or another. Whippings were the favorite tool of choice, but lately she'd been introduced to many other machines that would stretch and pinch your body into submission.

Over the sounds of metal gathering behind her Langley made out the sound of people talking outside the door. It was hushed as if they didn't wish to be caught, but their attempt at being secretive was poor. If she hadn't been in such an ill state she would have been able to hear them, but over the moans and groans of the injured it was impossible.

"Lestrade…" She murmured, catching the guard's attention that was stationed in front of her. He'd been the one she assumed had taken it easy on her, the one who wished her Godspeed and her only other ally in this whole thing save for Carrow.

He inched forward, pretending to mess with the shackled above her head before whispering back. "Yes?"

"O-outside… who's outside the door…?" Langley's voice cracked as she winced in pain, she felt sick from the lack of nourishment and over compensation of torture and pain. She had done it for a family, done it for her people. She was beginning to regret doing this despite what she wanted to think, she just wanted this pain to end.

Get through it.

Lestrade opened his mouth to reply, though Langley could see the apprehension in his eyes when the man behind her suddenly came into view and shoved him back. Lestrade nearly tumbled to the ground when a guard came into view. "You'd be smart to keep your hands to yourself, Lestrade. Remember what the Sheriff said if he catches anyone near the lass, it'd be a right shame to see someone so young and with so much potential to be hanged." He let out a dry bark of laughter, the other guards joining in as Lestrade got to his feet and brushed himself off. He murmured something under his breath before speaking up.

"Well let's get on with it, then. We wouldn't want to keep the good Sheriff waiting?" His voice was laced with anger, but Langley was barely hanging onto his words when she felt the cool air against her sensitive back as her clothes were ripped open.

They still hung onto her front, keeping her bosom covered with the remaining in tact scraps. "W-what, what are…"

"Nothing to worry your pretty little head over, just a bit of alcohol to wake you up!" One said before there was a popping noise behind her and a warm drink spilled down her battered skin. Having been caught off guard Langley screamed in pain, the hot liquid burning at her tender flesh without mercy. She felt sick from the pain, dizzy from the black spots that swarmed her vision as groans tore through her throat. Langley couldn't find it in her to stay fully conscious, let alone come to taunt the guards that were putting her through all the pain.

They laughed and poured more alcohol on her wounds, tears steadily streaming down her dirty face. It was hard to see anything through her half-lidded and tear blurred eyes, but Langley thought she imagined through it all that Robin was there. Oh Robin, Langley thought, sobbing his name over and over again in her head, what is happening to me.

There was a loud banging sound followed by another bang and the loud clicking of boots on stone, Langley couldn't find it in her to move. Her body was slumped down, arms the only thing supporting her as her head lolled to the side. Barely over the pounding in her ears she heard a familiar voice command the chains be widened, and they were. Langley was given leeway to fall to her knees and suddenly her arms didn't hurt as bad, but the pain in her back wasn't dulled.

"Leave us."

There was a large commotion of shuffling and another banging noise as the door shut, leaving Langley alone with the Sheriff in the torture chamber. Langley didn't look up, she's already gotten a glimpse at the toe of those boots and she knew who it was. "Fancy…. Meeting y-you here…"

The Sheriff didn't say anything, though Langley just barely caught how he lowered himself on his haunches before his gloved finger grasped her chin and tilted it upwards to face her. His hazel eyes slowly assessed her body, face, every inch of skin covered or not. Langley felt bare under his gaze, her lip trembling as she tried to keep a hardened masque over the one of pain. The corner of his lips twitched upwards, "You were crying."

It was not a statement, and Langley tried to scoff but only managed to gurgle on a mouthful of blood. How she wasn't dead yet she would never know. "You try to not…" Langley stopped midway through her retort, her chest hurt too bad. "I'm not even gonna try…"

"All of this could easily end if you submit to me." His voice was a low sensuous purr, and had Langley not felt compelled to listen she would have thought his voice was angelic. But she knew better, even the devil had been an angel once.

"Why would I do that after all you've done to me?"

"Think of it, Langley." He began, hazel eyes glinting. "A life of luxury in a castle where you have to do nothing besides what you want to. No stealing for food, no scrubby clothes or living in the forest under makeshift tents. Everyone will bow to you as they rightfully should."

"I've lived that life before George, it's not the kind I was meant to live." Langley was being honest, she had lived the life of a noble person and she quite despised it. People were always scared of you, quivering at your feet for fear of being whipped at the slightest transgression. The Sheriff was sure she'd lived a nice life before becoming an oulaw, she was Locksley's cousin after all, and even the renowned Robin Hood had belonged to a wealthy family before he'd become a traitor to civilized people.

"And if I weren't to give you the choice?" He prompted, a single black eyebrow quirking as he put the thought into her mind.

Langley let out a low, dry laugh - blood spurting from her mouth as she looked at the Sheriff with a sideways grin. Blood stained her lips a cherry red color, "Good luck." She reiterated from their last meeting, watching his face fall with anger before he did something unexpected.

His lips crushed harshly against hers, his teeth biting on her bottom lip which caused her to yelp in pain and giving him full access to her mouth. His tongue wasted no time in slipping in, clashing mercilessly with hers as he tilted her head back for better access. Langley groaned as his hand tightened around her throat, the other coming to her hips and pressing their bodies together as he fell to his knees in front of her. Langley was unsure how to respond as blood gushed in both their mouths, the metallic taste surprisingly sending tremors of heat down to her core and dampening her dirty clothes. The Sheriff showed no sign of stopping as he plundered her mouth, and since Langley was in a lesser state of mind she only barely managed to try and free herself when the black in her vision grew and then consumed her.

The Sheriff felt Langley fall limp in his arms, and when he pulled back her lips were bloody and purple, and a bruise was already beginning to form around her chin and neck where he'd gripped her. He didn't say anything as he got to his feet and called the guards in, ignoring their horrified looks at the Sheriff's state of lips that were similarly bloody and purple from the passionate makeout session with his prisoner. "Take her back to her cell and feed everyone a half a loaf less. Let it be known that if you defy me, you will be punished." He looked down at Langley as she was dragged away, eyes warm with lust. "Even if you are an exception."

The Sheriff promptly left the room and made his way to Mortianna's home below his castle, quickly crossing the bridge and into her domain.

"Mortianna!" The Sheriff wasted no time in calling for his personal witch as he was impatient, and since the blood was still fresh on his lips he didn't want to waste anymore precious time. "Make haste! I need your foresight."

The old witch hobbled out from behind a maze of rags with odd and most likely satanic symbols sewed into them, and once she noticed the blood on the Sheriff's lips she was quick to clear her table and summon her reading bowl. He spit the blood into it, taking a seat after a decent amount was swishing in the bowl.

"Tell me all you can of this woman."

Mortianna looked closely, running her nail through the blood with a profound screeching sound before her eyes narrowed and she repeated the process. Her voice was low and gravelly as she spoke, taking on another ethereal layer of evil. "The undoing, the undoing of something she will be… Rich in heart, wealthy too… Perhaps the daughter of a noble? Loyal, very keen on protecting those close. She has ties to people that are very powerful and is built to carry the load of a mother. A very strong child could be born of her, but she has been veered off the path of motherhood by something…something I cannot see and, and you."

The Sheriff's grin was large as he stood up, "Loyal, how loyal is she to her friends?" It seemed the only thing he'd heard as he paced around, hand on his chin. One could practically see the cogs turning in his head, and though the point Mortianna wanted him to see was not in his mind she humored him.

"She would protect them till the death."

"And you are sure of this?" The Sheriff asked, barely able to contain his glee as the witch woman nodded her peppered white head.

"I have not been so sure of much else."

The Sheriff's grin was not innocent as it took hold of his face, he was ecstatic and nearly exploding with ideas of what he planned to do. "I should have seen it sooner! Mortianna you are truly a genius!" His lips curled up as he rubbed his hands together triumphantly. "It seems I've found Langley's weakness." How the Sheriff had not seen it sooner he wouldn't know, but he was partially to blame from being sidetracked by his lust. As the Sheriff left the room Mortianna was less than pleased, this Langley - a prisoner she was sure - would be under her close eye. Because in the blood telling she could see that the note of undoing was that of her son. Mortianna would not let all she'd done go to waste over some petty woman. She had killed for her soon before, and she would so so again no matter what the costs. Langley was but a pawn in her game where trumphing meant rising to a higher throne of greatness.

The Sheriff shared Mortianna's devious sentiments, but in the way that he was going to keep Langley alive instead of already plotting her potential death if she became a road block. He was already sending off guards to search the forest with renewed vigor for Langley's friends. Once he captured them, he would be able to twist her to his will. He was unaware of what his mother was brewing below, in fact, he was even unaware that the witch was his mother. But one thing was for certain in the Sheriff's mind: he would have Langley very, very soon. But this time she would be completely willing.