Day 3 – Medieval

A/N: The DA world is already fairly medieval, so - to put a different twist on it - here's a Robin Hood AU for you. Enjoy!

Nathaniel Howe shifted a little, trying to get more comfortable up in the tree's branches without making too much noise. Over on the other side of the road, he could just about make out Anders' silhouette, hidden in the luscious foliage of a tall beech tree. The others were too far away to be seen, but he knew they were there. They had left Friar Oghren in charge of the camp, taking all the able-bodied men with them. If their informant was correct, their target would be well guarded.

No surprise there. Of course Baron Cousland wouldn't let his only daughter travel without proper protection, especially if the rumours were true and she was carrying a substantial portion of her dowry with her. Nathaniel frowned at the thought. The Baron was known as a decent man. Why he would agree to marry his daughter to a repulsive creep like young Vaughan Kendells was a bit of a mystery. Then again, the groom's father, Sheriff Kendells, was the regent's right hand, and even the Baron would be powerless against a royal command. Still, according to gossip, the young lady was less than thrilled about the prospect, and he couldn't blame her.

Well, at least she would be granted a delay, Nathaniel thought, suppressing a dry chuckle. If all went well, they would seize her together with her coffers and keep her prisoner until her father paid up. Or, maybe her prospective bridegroom. Either way, the ransom should be sufficient to keep the outlaws warm and well-fed over the winter, with a little to spare for the starving peasants in the villages surrounding Denerim.

A faint whistle, hardly audible over the noises of the forest, made him instantly focus on the present. Their quarry was in sight. Slowly, he raised his bow, notching an arrow. A faint rustle from the tree opposite told him Anders was getting ready as well. They had to be as quiet as they possibly could. The element of surprise would be vital if they were to stand a chance against the heavily armed guards.

They heard the squeaking of the wheels and the clopping of the horses' hooves before the wagon and its escort crested the hill. Taking deep, steady breaths, Nathaniel silently counted the guardsmen: thirteen altogether, with a dashing young captain on a grey charger in the lead. A tough fight, but feasible. At least, if they didn't see the trap in time. Just then the guard captain doubled back to the wagon, bending down to its open window where a small, white hand was visible, gesticulating animatedly. Nathaniel bit back a curse. Their task would have been far easier if the captain had remained in front. Two more yards, one—

The first four guardsmen gave loud cries of surprise as their horses suddenly stumbled, their front legs skidding downwards into the cleverly concealed pit. The riders went tumbling headfirst onto the ground. Cursing loudly, the captain called to the others to stand back and surround the wagon, but three more horses were so frightened by the racket that they took off at a gallop. Six left. Raising his bow, Nathaniel gave the signal.

Their arrows flew true but, even so, it was a messy struggle, and the captain didn't give in until he was surrounded by seven of them, his sword kept in check by Kristoff's halberd. They bound him tightly, ignoring his muttered curses. Judging from his pretty armour, he might even fetch a ransom of his own. Nathaniel was about to approach the wagon when the door opened and the young lady stepped out, clutching a slim dagger.

"Sir Carver? What is the meaning of this?" Her voice was high and clear, and she didn't look afraid at all.

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. Lady Megan Cousland was… not what he'd expected: not a shy, demure little damsel, fresh out of the convent; not a sweet English rose with blushing cheeks and golden tresses. Her reddish hair was pulled back in a tight braid, which didn't quite keep some stray locks from escaping. And, while her eyes were indeed stunning, light green and luminous, her face was cute rather than classically beautiful, with a small, upturned nose covered in freckles. For a moment, he was seized by the urge to kiss every one of them, to see if her cheeks would dimple in a smile, but then he got a grip on himself.

"I'm sorry, my lady." The captain was visibly shaken. "It seems we have been taken prisoner by outlaws."

Now that his helmet was off, his youth was even more obvious. Still, he was a comely fellow, with thick black hair and pretty brown eyes, tall and muscular; an able warrior, too. Nathaniel almost pitied him. It would be tough to face the Baron's wrath for his failure to protect Lady Megan.

"Outlaws!" The Lady still seemed unfazed. "I told my father crossing the forest was hardly safe." She turned to face the assembled attackers. "Who is your leader?"

"That would be me." Nathaniel stepped to the front. "Nathaniel Howe, though you may know me as Swift Nate, the Archer."

A small smile spread over her face. "Swift Nate, eh? They say you are an honourable sort, as far as that can be said for your kind. Will you treat me as befits a lady?"

He shrugged. "Our lives are rough, so don't expect any luxuries. But I'll give you my word that no harm shall come to you as long as you're a guest in my camp." He gestured toward his second-in-command. "Anders. Make sure she's bound and cannot run."

"You would not take a lady's word for that?" Those green eyes were sizing him up, almost insolently.

"No, my lady, I wouldn't." He turned away, ignoring her angry hiss. "Experience has taught me not to trust a noble's promise. Besides…" He felt a small grin tug at the corners of his lips. "You have far too much spirit not to attempt an escape."