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fellowshippers2004-12-02 10:28 pm
charlottemay.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-12-02 10:28 pm
Deep in the Forest (11/?)
Title: Deep in the Forest (11/?)
Author: Charlotte May
Email:charlottemay43@hotmail.com
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Dom/Billy, Orlando/Elijah, Karl/Miranda
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. I intend no disrespect to Dominic Monaghan, Billy Boyd or anyone else mentioned in this story.
Warning: AU
Feedback: Always welcome!
Summary: There are some very familiar faces running round Sherwood Forest. Yes, folks, it’s a LOTRPS Robin Hood story! Do I really need to point out that it’s an AU? ;-)
Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
canciona for the beta and the helpful suggestions. :-)
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten
Cross-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
monaboyd, fellow_shippers and my lj.
Deep in the Forest
Part eleven - in which Dom and Billy go to the pub (again) and the Sheriff gets angry
“Look, Bernard, I still think this is a bad idea.” Brad shifted uneasily from one foot to the other as they stood outside the entrance to the Great Hall.
Bernard frowned at his companion and made a futile attempt to straighten his tunic. “If we run, the Sheriff will still find us. That would be worse.” He glanced down at the badge emblazoned on his chest. Its two stags stood proudly, the motto underneath taunting him. Virtue lives on after death. And a fat lot of use that is, he thought grimly.
“What could be worse than being dead?” Brad wrung his hands, his face a picture of abject misery.
Before Bernard could answer, the door swung open and a guard motioned them inside. He had an air of smug superiority about him that Bernard found intensely irritating. Bernard shot him a glare and whispered, “Next time it could be you, mate…. Next time.” To Bernard’s satisfaction, the guard looked decidedly uncomfortable as they walked past him into the Great Hall.
Leaving the guard by the door, Brad and Bernard walked nervously across the large room to the high table where the Sheriff sat, looking more bad-tempered than usual. “Yes?” he snapped, still writing carefully on a large piece of parchment.
Bernard cleared his throat. “My Lord Sheriff,” he began, trying very hard to be as polite as possible. After all, there was no point in pissing Bean off sooner than necessary.
Lord Bean looked up from his work and frowned. “Shouldn’t you two be guarding the Duke of Mansfield?”
“Yes, sir,” said Brad quietly.
The Sheriff raised an eyebrow. “So why aren’t you? Did Gisborne send you here?”
“No sir,” said Bernard. He knew he was on safe ground with the second question. “We haven’t seen him today. He never showed up.”
“So you’ve come to me for orders? You idiots! You’ve left the Duke unguarded!”
“No, we haven’t, sir,” protested Brad.
“So who exactly is guarding him?” The Sheriff’s voice had gone dangerously quiet.
Bernard swallowed hard. He exchanged a nervous glance with Brad and took a deep breath. Best get this over with. You could only die once, couldn’t you? “The thing is, sir… You see, the thing is…”
“Yes?” snapped the Sheriff.
“He’s gone,” blurted out Brad.
The Sheriff narrowed his eyes, and looked carefully at Brad, then Bernard, apparently rendered completely speechless.
“When we went to take him his breakfast, he wasn’t there,” added Brad quickly.
Lord Bean suddenly stood up and slammed his hands down on the table. “Then where the fuck is he?” he yelled at the top of his voice, making both the men in front of him flinch.
“Don’t know, sir,” they mumbled in unison.
“Guard!” yelled the Sheriff.
The guard who’d let them in trotted across the room. Bernard thought he looked inappropriately eager.
“Put these two in the guardhouse and lock them up. I’ll deal with them later. Meanwhile, search the town for the Duke of Mansfield. He can’t have got far.”
====
Dom stretched, easing his tired muscles. He and Billy had ridden hard to get into Nottingham by mid-afternoon, and it had taken a while to find Andy. After searching the Bell, the Trip to Jerusalem, the Salutation and the Royal Children, they’d finally tracked him down in the Flying Horse. Dom was ready for a drink. Going in all those pubs gave a man quite a thirst.
He stretched again, and contemplated Billy’s magnificent rear view as he leaned against the bar waiting to be served. He could remember what those firm, toned muscles felt like under his hands. His mouth went dry and his palms itched in anticipation. He was just embarking on a fantasy involving those muscles flexing and thrusting… when he felt a painful prod just under his ribs. “Ow!” he yelped. “What was that for?”
Andy grimaced. “I was talking to you. But your mind was over there.” He gesticulated in Billy’s general direction. “You never listen to me, do you, you stupid wanker? I told you to shag him or dump him, didn’t I?”
“I did,” replied Dom quietly, blushing to the roots of his hair.
“But he’s still here…” began Andy. Then Dom saw the penny drop as Andy looked quickly from Dom to Billy and then back to Dom, processing this piece of news. He shook his head violently. “Too much information, mate… too much information.”
Their conversation was interrupted by Billy returning with the beer. “Three pints of best,” he announced, putting the drinks on the table. He turned to Andy and asked innocently, “Have you heard any interesting gossip lately?”
“There are guards out looking for someone, but no-one knows who.” Andy paused, and turned to Dom. “You know, I can’t help thinking that might have something to do with our last conversation.” When he didn’t get an answer, and Dom and Billy looked everywhere except at Andy, he grinned. “So the old boy got away, did he?” He raised an eyebrow and looked meaningfully at Dom. “I wonder how he managed that?”
“Never you mind,” said Dom, trying very hard to keep a straight face. “Anything else?”
Andy leant over the table and lowered his voice. “And a rumour is going round that Gisborne is missing… and the Sheriff’s daughter.”
Dom gave in. He just couldn’t stop the smirk forming on his face. He glanced at Billy and noticed he was having the same problem. They really were the most appalling liars.
Andy nodded. “I see. The rumours are true, I take it? I won’t ask for details. I’m probably better off not knowing.”
Deciding a change of subject was in order, Dom said, “We need to get into the castle. How do we get access to the tunnel that runs up from the brewhouse?”
Andy rubbed his hands together in glee. “Now that I can help you with…”
=======
Lord Bean was angry. Very angry. And confused. Everyone seemed to be disappearing. First Miranda, then Gisborne, now the Duke of Mansfield. At least Orlando was safely locked up. But who was going to be next? Elijah the Miller’s son?
The Sheriff frowned. No, surely not? He was in the dungeon. But the Duke had been under house arrest and tied to a chair and he’d got away. Lord Bean decided to go and check. The boy might know what was happening. He could offer clemency to get him to talk… then he could change his mind when he’d found out what he wanted to know. He smiled to himself. Yes, he liked that. Information and a dead outlaw. Definitely his kind of plan.
When he arrived at the dungeon, he got the guard to open the door. He leant forward gingerly and peered down. In the gloom below, he could make out a huddled figure slumped against the far wall. “Hey, you!” he shouted.
The figure’s head lifted and even in the dim light of the dungeon he could see the prisoner’s startling eyes. The Sheriff was pleased to note that the boy had been crying. In his opinion, there was nothing more satisfying than making people suffer.
“I need some information,” said the Sheriff.
“Sod off!” spat Elijah.
“I can see we’ve got off on the wrong foot here,” said Lord Bean evenly.
“Yeah, that was your fault when you condemned me to death.”
“Well, we could perhaps do something about that…”
Elijah stood up, wobbling a little on his injured ankle, and eyed him warily. “I’m listening.”
“Where is the Duke of Mansfield?”
A look of genuine bafflement crossed Elijah’s tearstained face. “How the fuck should I know? You took him prisoner.”
“Where’s my daughter? And Gisborne?”
“Making sweet love?” The sarcasm in Elijah’s voice was cutting.
Frustration welled up inside the Sheriff. He’d been wrong to come here. The boy didn’t know anything. “You’re wasting my time! This has got to have something to do with Locksley and your friends in the forest. If you don’t answer, I’ll tell the guard to cut your rations.”
“Big deal. I’ve been here all day and haven’t had anything to eat yet. It’s kind of difficult to reduce nothing.”
Bean made a mental note to have a word with the prison guard. Sometimes it was necessary to feed prisoners, particularly if you needed them to stay alive. Were all his staff this incompetent?
Elijah looked thoughtful for a moment, and smiled smugly at his captor. “So you’ve lost the Duke, your daughter and Gisborne? Not having a good day, are you?”
The Sheriff just glared at his prisoner, for once not at all sure what to say. The problem with condemning someone to death was that they didn’t really have anything else to lose, so they could be as rude and disrespectful as they liked.
Elijah grinned cheekily. “Perhaps your daughter and Gisborne have eloped?”
Something snapped inside Lord Bean. “She is going to marry Orlando!” he shouted angrily, turning on his heel to leave.
“Over my dead body!” Elijah yelled back, his voice echoing down the narrow passageway.
“It has been arranged,” muttered the Sheriff nastily.
====
Elijah watched the door swing shut and slumped back down to the floor. What had he been thinking? All the stress must have gone to his head. No matter how good it felt, being rude to the Sheriff was not a good idea. There were much worse ways to die than hanging and he was pretty sure Lord Bean knew all of them. He shuddered and tried to think of something that didn’t involve sharp implements.
He forced his mind back to what the Sheriff had said. He must have been pretty desperate to ask Elijah if he knew where everyone was, when he’d been locked in a cell all day. Really, what kind of man would ask a prisoner what was going on in his own castle? He frowned, and smiled to himself when he remembered Bean’s face after he’d suggested that Miranda and Gisborne had eloped. He didn’t know why the Sheriff was so outraged at the idea; it seemed the most reasonable explanation to Elijah. After all, Miranda had said she wanted to marry Gisborne and she seemed a very determined woman.
He rubbed his sore ankle and tried to make sense of it all. The Duke of Mansfield had escaped… or been rescued; Miranda and Gisborne were missing; and the Sheriff was going out of his mind with frustration because he didn’t know what was going on. Elijah’s smile grew. There was only one reasonable explanation.
Dom.
Perhaps he wasn’t going to die after all.
~~~~~~~~~
Author: Charlotte May
Email:charlottemay43@hotmail.com
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Dom/Billy, Orlando/Elijah, Karl/Miranda
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. I intend no disrespect to Dominic Monaghan, Billy Boyd or anyone else mentioned in this story.
Warning: AU
Feedback: Always welcome!
Summary: There are some very familiar faces running round Sherwood Forest. Yes, folks, it’s a LOTRPS Robin Hood story! Do I really need to point out that it’s an AU? ;-)
Thanks to
canciona for the beta and the helpful suggestions. :-)Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten
Cross-posted to
monaboyd, fellow_shippers and my lj. Deep in the Forest
Part eleven - in which Dom and Billy go to the pub (again) and the Sheriff gets angry
“Look, Bernard, I still think this is a bad idea.” Brad shifted uneasily from one foot to the other as they stood outside the entrance to the Great Hall.
Bernard frowned at his companion and made a futile attempt to straighten his tunic. “If we run, the Sheriff will still find us. That would be worse.” He glanced down at the badge emblazoned on his chest. Its two stags stood proudly, the motto underneath taunting him. Virtue lives on after death. And a fat lot of use that is, he thought grimly.
“What could be worse than being dead?” Brad wrung his hands, his face a picture of abject misery.
Before Bernard could answer, the door swung open and a guard motioned them inside. He had an air of smug superiority about him that Bernard found intensely irritating. Bernard shot him a glare and whispered, “Next time it could be you, mate…. Next time.” To Bernard’s satisfaction, the guard looked decidedly uncomfortable as they walked past him into the Great Hall.
Leaving the guard by the door, Brad and Bernard walked nervously across the large room to the high table where the Sheriff sat, looking more bad-tempered than usual. “Yes?” he snapped, still writing carefully on a large piece of parchment.
Bernard cleared his throat. “My Lord Sheriff,” he began, trying very hard to be as polite as possible. After all, there was no point in pissing Bean off sooner than necessary.
Lord Bean looked up from his work and frowned. “Shouldn’t you two be guarding the Duke of Mansfield?”
“Yes, sir,” said Brad quietly.
The Sheriff raised an eyebrow. “So why aren’t you? Did Gisborne send you here?”
“No sir,” said Bernard. He knew he was on safe ground with the second question. “We haven’t seen him today. He never showed up.”
“So you’ve come to me for orders? You idiots! You’ve left the Duke unguarded!”
“No, we haven’t, sir,” protested Brad.
“So who exactly is guarding him?” The Sheriff’s voice had gone dangerously quiet.
Bernard swallowed hard. He exchanged a nervous glance with Brad and took a deep breath. Best get this over with. You could only die once, couldn’t you? “The thing is, sir… You see, the thing is…”
“Yes?” snapped the Sheriff.
“He’s gone,” blurted out Brad.
The Sheriff narrowed his eyes, and looked carefully at Brad, then Bernard, apparently rendered completely speechless.
“When we went to take him his breakfast, he wasn’t there,” added Brad quickly.
Lord Bean suddenly stood up and slammed his hands down on the table. “Then where the fuck is he?” he yelled at the top of his voice, making both the men in front of him flinch.
“Don’t know, sir,” they mumbled in unison.
“Guard!” yelled the Sheriff.
The guard who’d let them in trotted across the room. Bernard thought he looked inappropriately eager.
“Put these two in the guardhouse and lock them up. I’ll deal with them later. Meanwhile, search the town for the Duke of Mansfield. He can’t have got far.”
====
Dom stretched, easing his tired muscles. He and Billy had ridden hard to get into Nottingham by mid-afternoon, and it had taken a while to find Andy. After searching the Bell, the Trip to Jerusalem, the Salutation and the Royal Children, they’d finally tracked him down in the Flying Horse. Dom was ready for a drink. Going in all those pubs gave a man quite a thirst.
He stretched again, and contemplated Billy’s magnificent rear view as he leaned against the bar waiting to be served. He could remember what those firm, toned muscles felt like under his hands. His mouth went dry and his palms itched in anticipation. He was just embarking on a fantasy involving those muscles flexing and thrusting… when he felt a painful prod just under his ribs. “Ow!” he yelped. “What was that for?”
Andy grimaced. “I was talking to you. But your mind was over there.” He gesticulated in Billy’s general direction. “You never listen to me, do you, you stupid wanker? I told you to shag him or dump him, didn’t I?”
“I did,” replied Dom quietly, blushing to the roots of his hair.
“But he’s still here…” began Andy. Then Dom saw the penny drop as Andy looked quickly from Dom to Billy and then back to Dom, processing this piece of news. He shook his head violently. “Too much information, mate… too much information.”
Their conversation was interrupted by Billy returning with the beer. “Three pints of best,” he announced, putting the drinks on the table. He turned to Andy and asked innocently, “Have you heard any interesting gossip lately?”
“There are guards out looking for someone, but no-one knows who.” Andy paused, and turned to Dom. “You know, I can’t help thinking that might have something to do with our last conversation.” When he didn’t get an answer, and Dom and Billy looked everywhere except at Andy, he grinned. “So the old boy got away, did he?” He raised an eyebrow and looked meaningfully at Dom. “I wonder how he managed that?”
“Never you mind,” said Dom, trying very hard to keep a straight face. “Anything else?”
Andy leant over the table and lowered his voice. “And a rumour is going round that Gisborne is missing… and the Sheriff’s daughter.”
Dom gave in. He just couldn’t stop the smirk forming on his face. He glanced at Billy and noticed he was having the same problem. They really were the most appalling liars.
Andy nodded. “I see. The rumours are true, I take it? I won’t ask for details. I’m probably better off not knowing.”
Deciding a change of subject was in order, Dom said, “We need to get into the castle. How do we get access to the tunnel that runs up from the brewhouse?”
Andy rubbed his hands together in glee. “Now that I can help you with…”
=======
Lord Bean was angry. Very angry. And confused. Everyone seemed to be disappearing. First Miranda, then Gisborne, now the Duke of Mansfield. At least Orlando was safely locked up. But who was going to be next? Elijah the Miller’s son?
The Sheriff frowned. No, surely not? He was in the dungeon. But the Duke had been under house arrest and tied to a chair and he’d got away. Lord Bean decided to go and check. The boy might know what was happening. He could offer clemency to get him to talk… then he could change his mind when he’d found out what he wanted to know. He smiled to himself. Yes, he liked that. Information and a dead outlaw. Definitely his kind of plan.
When he arrived at the dungeon, he got the guard to open the door. He leant forward gingerly and peered down. In the gloom below, he could make out a huddled figure slumped against the far wall. “Hey, you!” he shouted.
The figure’s head lifted and even in the dim light of the dungeon he could see the prisoner’s startling eyes. The Sheriff was pleased to note that the boy had been crying. In his opinion, there was nothing more satisfying than making people suffer.
“I need some information,” said the Sheriff.
“Sod off!” spat Elijah.
“I can see we’ve got off on the wrong foot here,” said Lord Bean evenly.
“Yeah, that was your fault when you condemned me to death.”
“Well, we could perhaps do something about that…”
Elijah stood up, wobbling a little on his injured ankle, and eyed him warily. “I’m listening.”
“Where is the Duke of Mansfield?”
A look of genuine bafflement crossed Elijah’s tearstained face. “How the fuck should I know? You took him prisoner.”
“Where’s my daughter? And Gisborne?”
“Making sweet love?” The sarcasm in Elijah’s voice was cutting.
Frustration welled up inside the Sheriff. He’d been wrong to come here. The boy didn’t know anything. “You’re wasting my time! This has got to have something to do with Locksley and your friends in the forest. If you don’t answer, I’ll tell the guard to cut your rations.”
“Big deal. I’ve been here all day and haven’t had anything to eat yet. It’s kind of difficult to reduce nothing.”
Bean made a mental note to have a word with the prison guard. Sometimes it was necessary to feed prisoners, particularly if you needed them to stay alive. Were all his staff this incompetent?
Elijah looked thoughtful for a moment, and smiled smugly at his captor. “So you’ve lost the Duke, your daughter and Gisborne? Not having a good day, are you?”
The Sheriff just glared at his prisoner, for once not at all sure what to say. The problem with condemning someone to death was that they didn’t really have anything else to lose, so they could be as rude and disrespectful as they liked.
Elijah grinned cheekily. “Perhaps your daughter and Gisborne have eloped?”
Something snapped inside Lord Bean. “She is going to marry Orlando!” he shouted angrily, turning on his heel to leave.
“Over my dead body!” Elijah yelled back, his voice echoing down the narrow passageway.
“It has been arranged,” muttered the Sheriff nastily.
====
Elijah watched the door swing shut and slumped back down to the floor. What had he been thinking? All the stress must have gone to his head. No matter how good it felt, being rude to the Sheriff was not a good idea. There were much worse ways to die than hanging and he was pretty sure Lord Bean knew all of them. He shuddered and tried to think of something that didn’t involve sharp implements.
He forced his mind back to what the Sheriff had said. He must have been pretty desperate to ask Elijah if he knew where everyone was, when he’d been locked in a cell all day. Really, what kind of man would ask a prisoner what was going on in his own castle? He frowned, and smiled to himself when he remembered Bean’s face after he’d suggested that Miranda and Gisborne had eloped. He didn’t know why the Sheriff was so outraged at the idea; it seemed the most reasonable explanation to Elijah. After all, Miranda had said she wanted to marry Gisborne and she seemed a very determined woman.
He rubbed his sore ankle and tried to make sense of it all. The Duke of Mansfield had escaped… or been rescued; Miranda and Gisborne were missing; and the Sheriff was going out of his mind with frustration because he didn’t know what was going on. Elijah’s smile grew. There was only one reasonable explanation.
Dom.
Perhaps he wasn’t going to die after all.
~~~~~~~~~