Le rouge et Le noir -open-

[Rose Barns]

rose BARNS

The sky was shattering into a million different pieces of color. There was the light sky blue of the day and the dark blue of the night and in between was different shades of pinks and oranges, grays and purples, and even a vibrant red streak. The sun was a big fiery orange ball slowly sinking down into the depths of darkness, leaving the pale moon and it’s daughters, the stars, to find light of their own. Rose crouched among the summer flowers, their scents wrapping her up in a sweet blanket. Her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders and her bright blue eyes were trained down at her hands. In one hand she held a small bundle of purple and yellow flowers. In the other was a small knife used to cut the long stems. She breathed in deep, enjoying the smell of the night as it invaded Locksley and it’s grounds.

She was closer to the forest, which would be considered dangerous as the time grew dark and late, but she felt safer than she did all day. Working in the home of Sir Guy was probably second dangerous. The first would be working in Nottingham Castle itself! But she had grown up in Locksley and therefore felt like she could not leave it. Also it housed her sick mother and invalid brother. Or at least he acted like one. Not only did he have terrible nightmares that kept Rose up at night, but also he no longer had feeling in his left hand and was at times mentally unstable. His body was also speckled with burns and scars. This was what happened when he went to the Holy Land. Rose wondered if it would be the same as spending a week in the Sheriff’s dungeon. She shuddered at the thought.

But right now Rose was in a field of flowers and the night dew was slowly soaking through her brown skirt. She quickly looked up at the sky and was tempted to howl. No one was around and though she was of the female persuasion, there was a feeling of freedom running through the air. This feeling only seemed to come in between the day and the night. It was in between the dog and the wolf, but there were no wolves in Sherwood Forest and her howling would cast suspicion over the village.

Instead, Rose began to sing a little lullaby she knew. It was quite simple, but soft and sweet. It reminded her of what it was falling asleep in the arms of her mother. She sighed. Tonight she would go home and make her mother and brother a nice stew. She had earned the money through clever means, her other identity the Red Hawk, and decided to treat her family. One day she might get caught, but until then she could afford little luxuries for the Barns family. It was either stealing, or marrying so she could bring a man into the family, but Rose had never been in love and could not imagine marrying quite just yet. Robin Hood set her ideal bar, and though she had only had a crush on him when she was very little, she could never find someone better to replace him.

[conormccarthy]

Work was done for the day. The villages were settling down for the night after another long day of farming, trading and working the other essential professions. Conor was no different. He'd spent the day fixing clothes, putting the finishing touches to some saddles and punching holes in belts.

The was about the extent of every day for the leather worker, and he barely had time for anything else. So when evening came and the smith had closed up, Conor took his chance to work with the horses. His stable duties had been done in the morning, and so as night drew in, he could ride.

The road from Knighton was a good one, fairly clean and straight and if you were on a fast horse, fairly safe too. Luckily for Conor, he did have a fast horse and not a lot else. Clad in leather trousers and a light cotton shirt, he could feel every temperature change as he and his mount sped along the dirt road. The cool evening breeze calmed him, and the horse was quite please to be let out and Conor could feel her quivering energy through the reins.

Keeping her steady, Conor was glad when the road opened up from the forest into a meadow overlooking the glowing village of Locksley. Letting the reins loosen, he stood in the saddle. Wasting no time, the dark bay mare launched into a full gallop. Conor smiled to himself as they raced across the open ground. The sound of hoof beats was accompanied by the mare's steady breathing and the swish of grass on her dark seal point legs.

The motion was glorious, and Conor was glad he'd come out. The evening was perfect, the low sun, hidden by the forest was still shining light into the sky which in turn was casting a soft glow over the countryside. It was dark, but not too dark. Conor could see most details that were not obscured by the shadows from the forest, and so spotting the figure standing in the grass up ahead was fairly easy.

Taking control of the reins, Conor directed the mare in a wide arc around the girl, pulling her to a halt before they quite completed a circle around her. The mare danced and turned a few backward circles in excitement before Conor managed to settle her. All the horse wanted to do was run and Conor wanted to let her, but teaching her a few good manners would not go amiss. His own manners needed some help too, so he greeted the young woman.

"Good evening." His voice was soft, though it carried in the still and quiet evening air. To look at him, he was most definitely a peasant. His clothing was hardly extravagant, though well maintained at least. His hair was wild about his face, having come untied as he rode across the meadow on the back of the fine mare. The animal herself was a majestic beast, perfectly constructed and hardly a working animal. She was young, and consequently still in training. Conor hoped she would sell into nobility, and his days of cutting laces and fixing garments would be over. He could spend his days tending horses, breeding them for excellence and selling them for leisure-seeking nobles. It was a grand idea, but Conor was ambitious when it came to horses.

[Rose Barns]

rose BARNS

The night was quiet, unlike the day. There was a soft rustle of leaves in the forest and of grass around her. The breeze itself was warm, though it was cooling off from the hot summer day. Rose continued collecting flowers, her hands growing slightly damp like the grass around her, though she used her skirt to wipe it off. It was only her work skirt and she could wash it tomorrow after finishing with the chores around Locksley Manor. Her job there was nondescript. Sometimes she would serve the wine and meals, other time times she would do the laundry, and rarely did she had to draw a bath for the master himself.

Even though she hated Sir Guy with a passion, she had to admit his face was almost easy on the eyes, but his body was more so. Of course she had only glimpsed him once or twice with his shirt off, but her dislike overrode any other thought.

As Rose stood up and shook out her skirt, she heard the faint sound of hooves. She turned to look and saw a beautiful mare coming in her direction and then circling around before coming to a halt. On top of the horse stood a man she did not recognize, but then Rose did not know every peasant in Nottinghamshire. And she could tell he was a peasant from his clothes. She was tempted to look down at her clothes. Though a little less tattered and dirty, her clothes told anyone that she was a peasant as well. She only owned one pair of good, sturdy leather boots, and if it weren’t for that, she would have had to walk barefoot.

Rose looked up at the man and smiled a little before responding. “Good evening.” She then took a second quick glance at him. He looked to be strong, perhaps a farmer, but then he seemed too lean. He was also not as tanned as a farmer would be. And his face was kind, though to her it seemed a little sad.

Another second passed by and Rose dropped the arm that held the flowers, though she still held on tightly. “And what brings you so close to Locksley at this hour?” she asked with a brighter smile. Sometimes all one could do was smile, and Rose found it was easier than walking around with a grimace. Though the life of a peasant was not as idyllic as some of the nobles made it out to be in their silly speeches, she tried to endure as best she could.

[conormccarthy]

Conor acknowledged the reply while a nod of his head. "The space." He said, shifting in the saddle as the mare pawed the ground impatiently. This very meadow was the reason for coming here of all places. It was close to the village, so there would be no outlaws or bandits here. It was also not used for hunting, as no animals would come this close to the village. That made it a good place to take the mare for a gallop as the ground was sure to be soft and untampered.

With the manor over looking this public ground, it was neither farmland nor forest, kept clean and presentable. No obstacles to stumble over or roots and rocks to lame the mount. Patting the mare's lathered neck with a broad hand, Conor pushed his heels down and sat back in the beautifully crafted saddle.

Conor's eyes glanced briefly at the young woman, though his pale gaze never met hers more than a split second before returning to the mare, or looking around at the scenery. To some, he might appear haughty though in truth he was a shy man. Socialising was not his strong point.

"It's quiet, I like it here." He offered in more of an explanation. He continued to pat and stroke the mare's neck, and she eventually stopped standing so stiffly. Conor looked sideways to the girl, "And what of you... miss?" Poor Conor was never sure about titles when it came to women. Was it miss, ms, ma'am? He looked away again, cheeks darkening in the twilight. He had a habit of embarrassing himself in situations like this, and Arnold - the smith - had told him in no uncertain terms to get a grip on social etiquette. Practice, he'd said. Conor was beginning to think he'd never be able to address a woman without making himself out as a fool.

[Rose Barns]

rose BARNS

The space. That was for sure. This field near the forest was spacious and beautiful. During the May Day festivities when Rose was younger, they would come out here and dance. With her spare hand, Rose tucked a few dark strands of hair behind her ear as she continued to look at him. She noticed how difficult it was for him to look at her and she wondered why. Was she that hard on the eyes, or was he really shy? She looked down at his saddle and noticed the handiwork. It almost looked like a saddle a noble would use to ride. She guessed that maybe it was his work and then guessed that he was a leather worker.

Rose nodded at his next comment. It generally was quiet, except when she was there, picking flowers and singing to herself. But there was not much to say after that comment. He must be very shy. Rose was generally shy, but there was something about the night that made her less shy.

“Just picking flowers,” she said, holding up her hand with the purple and yellow flowers. Their scent was still strong and sweet. It would make her little house smell nice and brighten the dull space a little more. Her mother, who rarely left her bed, and her brother who never left the house during the day, were making the house depressing and it was harder to go home each day.

“Also, I like the quiet as well,” she added with a grin. “Where are you from?” she asked, meaning which village. He was obviously not from Locksley or she would have recognized him.

[conormccarthy]

The mare's bit jingled as she tossed her head, and Conor tightened the reins. He touched the heel of his boot to the horse's ribs, and she danced sideways toward the young woman. Conor trotted her forward, turning her in a circle so she would settle again. He pulled her up beside the girl, and kept her standing still The mare rebelled a little, but eventually stood politely.

Conor looked down, taking a better look at the flowers the girl held. "Flowers? May I...?" He held a hand down, gesturing to take the flowers. He was commissioned to make some ladies saddles, and he wished to add some embroidery. The shape of the meadow flowers was intricate, and might make a pretty design.

"Knighton, I came from Knighton." He said, though his accent said differently. It had been a long time since he moved to the shire of Nottingham from his home country, Ireland, but some of his brogue remained in his softly-spoken voice. He spoke so little not many people even noticed it.

[Rose Barns]

rose BARNS

Rose couldn't resist a little giggle as she watched the horse being difficult. She could ride too, though not as well as she would have liked. She always wanted to be taught properly, but could not find the time. Also it would be bad for people to know she could ride a horse. That would be one more knot in the noose for her and her secret identity. Perhaps Rose was growing slightly tired of having to keep that a secret and tell no one else, but it was too dangerous. The Sheriff did not spare women and children. Finally the mare seemed to calm down and Rose looked back up at the young man.

"As you wish," she said, her voice sounding musical as she spoke the words. She lifted her arm, her pale hand loosening it's grip slightly as she waited for the man to take them. If he somehow ruined them, she still had time to pick some more.

Rose caught the slight change in his accent, though she decided not to pursue. It was fair for him to say Knighton as perhaps he was living there permanently now. "That's not that far," Rose said with a smile, looking in the direction of where his village lay. They had more in common than she had thought. Marian was from Knighton and she was Robin's girl and now she was also in the gang. In someways she thought of Locksley and Knighton as sister villages. Both had tyrants in the manors now.

"Do you work for the lord of the manor?" she asked, curious to see if he sided with the Sheriff. His clothes would say otherwise, but it was safer to know now what his opinions were.

[conormccarthy]

OOC: Hay, have you got a spare someone to menace them? A Greensleeves or something? Someone without a bow XD Got an idea for something fun. If not, I'll just play an NPC thief.
IC:

Conor took the flowers from her, though unlike most men would be, he was gentle about it. While the mare craned her head round to sniff at the toe of his boot, Conor investigated the flowers in what was left of the evening light. He examined the petals mostly, sometimes turning the flower and looking at the bulbous area where the stem met the flower.

He was still fingering the petals, feeling their softness when he answered her question. "Sometimes." He was oblivious to the second meaning of the enquiry. As a leather worker, especially as a good leather worker with a knack for saddles, Conor would occasionally complete tasks for the lord and his estate. A job was a job to Conor, and so long as he had his skills, he hardly bothered with politics.

Distracted by the intricate details of the wildflowers, Conor had forgotten he was supposed to be practicing his communication skills. His answer had been vague at best, and to all intents and purposes, he almost sounded as if she didn't warrant any more of an explanation. Unintentionally, Conor was eventually going to insult the lady with the very few words he did say to her than if he didn't speak at all! He handed her back the flowers, but not before the mare had tried to nibble at them.

Conor muttered something, and he turned the mare's head away with the reins. Remembering he should have introduced himself somewhere near the beginning, Conor flustered a little. "I... Er... I'm, uh, Conor." His accent was rich when he said his name, as if it shouldn't be said any other way. How had he forgotten to introduce himself? Hello, good evening miss, I'm Conor. It sounded so easy in his head but somewhere between his brain and his mouth, the words got lost and when they were found again, they were like a group of unfortunate travellers that had found their way out of the forest after an encounter with pickpockets, missing valuable conjunctions, context and expression.

[Rose Barns]

rose BARNS

Rose was curious as she watched the man inspect the flowers. There was something different about him as he observed the petals. His hands held the stems gently as if he knew how to use the strength of his hands when necessary. This made her think that perhaps his line of work required skilled hands. Was he a musician then? No, his clothes were still too poor for that. Perhaps something to do with leather. Thought of leather nagged her, but instead she focused on the moment.

The soft breeze rustled through the grass and tickled the back of Rose’s neck. Her loose hair blew in front of her face and she quickly brushed it back with a hand. Looking up at the man was slightly difficult now as her neck was slightly aching. She wondered if he was more in a rush than he appeared to be, hence the reason he did not dismount. Or maybe he was nervous being close to a woman. His behavior and lack of conversational skills intrigued her to no end as she watched him brush the petals with his thumb.

A grin broke out on her face when the man finally introduced himself. Rose herself had forgotten the introductions and she felt a small blush darken her cheeks. “Rose,” she said. “Nice to meet you Conor,” she added. If he was anyone else, she would have given a slight curtsy, but she didn’t know if that would seem odd considering his appearance. Still, that saddle might suggest otherwise. She also noticed his accent. He definitely was not from around here and she wondered if maybe he had his own disguise? But that was silly! Not everyone had a secret identity.

(((The only outlaw I have is Djaq, but there are some NPC guard characters. I think Ann has the passwords for them. But I love fun ideas! ;D )))

[conormccarthy]

OOC: Aah, alright. I'll use generic desperate thief #3, quicker that way. Hehe. Yay plot device.
IC:

Conor almost dropped the flowers as he held them out to her. Nice to meet him? Was it? He looked a little stricken. Well how did he reply to that? Thank you? Nice to meet you too? Conor made his mind up to try something complicated. "Thanks... you too, Rose" Proud, Conor offered her a slight smile, a minute curl at the corner of his mouth that revealed a suggestion of a dimple in his cheek.

The mare chose that moment to start walking backward, but instead of correcting her, Conor looked around suspiciously. The mare's ears were back, and the tilt of her head suggested she was worried about something. A second figure in the meadow confirmed his suspicions, and he fought with the mare to draw her up beside Rose yet again.

The figure was drawing closer, and something flashed in the darkness. Conor dropped the flowers, holding his hand out to the girl with a sense of urgency. The figure was barely three or four horse-lengths away now, and Conor could clearly see the knife in the man's hand. The state of the shire in what it was, it was hard to tell if this man lived in the village or the forest. Many men turned to crime just to feed themselves, and a pair of people out in a field at night were a prime target.

Bracing himself in th saddle, Conor grabbed for Rose's hand. "Quickly." He was going to lift her, and hopefully she'd have the sense to swing her leg over the mare's rump so she could sit astride her behind the saddle. If that man managed to get hold of the reins, or slash at the mare, there was not much Conor would be able to do but relinquish the animal and perhaps even his life! The man was quite clearly desperate, and a desperate person could be just as unpredictable as any cornered horse.

[Rose Barns]

rose BARNS

Though it was growing dark, Rose could make out the small smile that appeared on his face after he had replied. This made her grin more. What was even sweeter was the small appearance of a dimple. With her two invalid family members, Rose didn’t socialize much with anyone outside of her village, and in her village quite rarely, but she was finding this odd interaction fun and refreshing. Apart from a few practiced lines when in her disguise to throw at guards who try to catch her, she was used to saying, “yes sir,” and whatnot. Occasionally Rose would talk to her mother, who would not respond, or her brother who did not like to respond every time.

Rose noticed the odd behavior of the mare and it took every ounce of will not to get into a defensive stance that would reveal her knowledge of fighting. She still had the small knife in her hand, but she did not use it in any way. Instead she looked up at Conor to wait for him to respond. Noticing his attention on a figure behind her, she turned to look and saw the man with the knife. If only she was properly armed with her bow and arrow, but she had been foolish coming out alone. Still, she could have outrun the man and found refuge in the forest. Not with Conor here, but he did have a horse.

Startled at Conor grabbing her hand, Rose nearly pulled away, but then she realized his intentions. She grabbed his hand back as she used his help to mount the mare. It was not her first time riding astride, though she faked slight discomfort. Even now at dire times she felt it unsafe to give away any signs that she could be the Red Hawk. Sometimes it paid to have at least one confidant.

Once on the back of the horse, Rose wrapped her arms around Conor’s waist, waiting for him to begin his retreat before the dangerous man caught up to them. She could feel herself trembling just a little and she didn’t know if it was because she was cold or scared.

[conormccarthy]

With the added the weight, the mare spooked and danced sideways. The man with the knife lunged forward, but the mare tossed her head and she needed no encouragement to launch into a gallop. Conor had never ridden double, and the sensation was rather unsettling. Trying to sit a gallop was near impossible, but gripping tightly with his legs, Conor managed to keep them both on as the mare raced over the meadow and around the village.

With the village behind them, Conor pulled the mare up into a smooth canter as they neared another road that led back to Knighton. Unthinking that Rose would most likely live here in Locksley, Conor set the mare loping along the road toward his own home.

Conor had been too preoccupied during the gallop to notice much, but he could feel now that the girl was shaking. It made sense, that an attempted mugging would scare a woman. It even scared Conor himself. If speaking was too hard for Conor, how did he expect to be able to comfort a young woman?

Too worried about offending her, he said and did nothing, keeping his eyes forward on the road. He cursed himself for being so inept. The poor girl had to be frightened, menaced by a man with a knife, dragged up upon a green mare - whom was barely trained - and then rushed quite precariously over the open grassland. Even if she could ride a horse, sitting astride like a man had to be difficult, not to mention undignified. Conor muttered an apology, though he wondered if she had even heard it when he hadn't turned to deliver it.

[Rose Barns]

rose BARNS

There was something thrilling about not being in control of the reigns as the mare galloped away from the man and away from the village. Though Rose liked being in control, she also liked this reckless and adventurous feeling welling up deep within herself. She was only a young girl who had not seen much of the world, but dreamt her hours away hoping to experience more.

As the horse galloped, Rose could feel the wind sharp against her pale cheeks and harsh against her dark hair. She held on tight, nearly molding herself to the man in front, not realizing the close proximity between them. It would have been more awkward if he had been turned around, but the horse was still moving and she needed something to feel safe.

After the horse slowed, her grip loosened slightly and she was able to sit up straighter. She did not hear his apology, but if she did, she would have laughed it off. There was no reason for sorries. He had saved her life more or less. Instead Rose decided to speak. “Your horse is fast,” she said, her face close to Conor’s ear so he could hear her over the wind and the sound of hooves. She then proceeded to look around and noticed how far away from her home they were. She wondered what he had planned. Was he thinking of taking her to his house and continue playing the knight in shining armor? Rose was still a little too shaken up to mention they were headed in the wrong direction. But she also enjoyed this change of things. Rose wanted to escape her home, and if she could for only an hour or two, if she wasn’t imposing, then why not?

[conormccarthy]

The canter being the smoother stride, Conor now too took notice of their proximity. He blushed brightly in the gloom, his ears burning with heat. Womenfolk were a mystery to Conor. Even now at almost twenty, he was still a novice to their ways. With no stature or noble blood, Conor had never been picked as a suitor, and most likely only would be if he came into money.

And so when she talked against his ear, Conor was almost unseated with surprise. He covered his mistake with a cough, and patted the mare's shoulder. "She's the fastest I know." He said, voice strained but the way he said it was as if he were a father and the mare was a favoured child. He spoke of her with such pride he sounded almost insane.

Distracting himself from the closeness of the young woman, he spoke more on his favourite subject. Only when it came to horses and leather did Conor manage to string together more than three words. "Her name is Feist. When she's trained, she will sell handsomely to nobility." He wondered if he said it with more conviction, that the mare would indeed fetch a hefty price. he was certainly of good quality, and Conor would hate to sell her as a working horse.

The ride to Knighton from Locksley was not long in a canter, and soon he could see the faint glow of torches and candlelight from the small village.

[Rose Barns]

rose BARNS

Rose raised an eyebrow at his sudden cough when she spoke. She wondered if he had a sweetheart back in his village. She would imagine so for he was not bad looking. But then his awkwardness would lead her to believe that maybe not. Though Rose was the not the belle of Locksley village, she did hear gossip as to why she was not married or did not have a sweetheart herself. It was not that she didn’t want one, though she wasn’t sure, but because she hadn’t had the time to find one and fall in love. She wondered how Robin and Marian had the time for their romance what with saving England and the poor peasants. But love was still a mystery to her.

“I am sure a person would pay a ransom’s pay for her. You better keep her close and safe.” It was not a threat, though maybe a warning. She could hear the pride in his voice and guessed he probably would not want to part with the handsome horse. But then he continued to talk and she realized his plan.

“Are you sure you would give her up for money? I suppose you have a family to feed, or a fiancée to marry that would require you to sell such a treasure.” Rose’s best subject was the unfairness of the villagers’ situations. She wondered if next time she stole from Sir Guy’s wealth, she would pay Conor a visit instead of just helping the people of Locksley.

As she enjoyed the ride, Rose noticed them closing in on Knighton. The walk back would not be difficult now that she thought of it, though she still wondered if Conor had realized he had taken her in the wrong direction. Still she did not correct him. She doubted her mother would starve without her there.