Le rouge et Le noir -open-

[Rose Barns]

rose BARNS

Rose giggled. “Oh, it’s alright,” she said. Then the horse began to move. It was slightly odd since the horse was so wide, but Rose grew used to the gait. She kept her back straight, though it caused her to be closer to Conor. She wondered what it was like for him. He had seemed so shy, but then, so was she at the moment. Rose could just hide it a little better.

“Oh, I work at Locksley Hall. I’m a servant there,” she said, looking down at her hands which rested in the mare’s mane. The mane was soft and the horse had a safe feeling to her.

Rose was not embarrassed about where she worked or what she did, but she wasn’t proud about it. She was able to take scraps from the kitchen occasionally, and it made things easier for her to steal from Gisborne. Of course she wasn’t going to say to Conor, “Oh, by the way, I’m the Red Hawk.” But then he may not know who that was. Still. Rose then noticed the different path they were going on. This one might take them directly into Locksley instead of the other that went over bumpy land and fields.

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[conormccarthy]

A servant? Conor supposed he was a servant of sort too, Arnold gave him many tasks to do. But he doubted Rose's job included shovelling horse manure and tediously cutting strips of leather for laces. At least Conor worked for himself some days, those blissful days when he could work on larger leather pieces or when the rare order came in for a custom-made saddle.

"Is it good work?" He asked, realising that working inside of a manor seemed quite fancy compared to a small dusty room behind the smith's workshop. Come to think of it, Conor didn't think he'd even set foot inside a manor and if he'd been on the grounds of one, he'd waited outside or been around to the stables. Conor's life was fairly simple, he did orders one by one, and when he had a spare moment he was tending the horses or daydreaming about the day when his stock would be the best known in the shire.

Nothing outside of his work bothered him. He had no social life to maintain, and he was not yet phased by matters of the Sheriff and his feuds with outlaws and bandits. Conor's world was rather small, and not much outside of it penetrated that layer that kept Conor out of other people's business and consequently out of the loop. He wondered briefly what it would be like to work as a servant, surrounded by people all day.

The young man felt the horse's leg rise as Millie stepped over a small branch, and Conor instinctively took hold of Rose's waist with one arm in case the mare was about to trip. Of course, the sturdy mare walked on solidly and Conor coughed an apology, drawing his arm away and taking hold of the reins in both hands.

[Rose Barns]

rose BARNS

That had been a good question. Rose supposed it was good work. Better work than some other things she could think of. She didn’t come home everyday thoroughly exhausted and weak. The pay wasn’t too bad. It didn’t support a family, but it was better than the farmers and others who were flailing. She did have to work for Gisborne, though. That was not the good part about the work. Serving him went against all her strong opinions and beliefs, but she didn’t have to like serving him, and she held the possibility of poisoning him or cutting his throat when he slept. But could Rose kill? She had never killed before, only injured. Rose might never recover if she killed someone. It seemed her mother and brother were weak and they were of her blood. Maybe it was in the family and Rose would go crazy. That thought scared her. She could not become like her mother, helpless and depending on others. Her mother had no real control on anything.

“I suppose it is.” She knew that working there also made it nearly impossible to marry outside of the village, if she were to marry at all. Not only did Gisborne have the right to grant marriages, but he had the right to prevent them. Would he want one of his servants to stop work for a few months because she was pregnant? Would he allow that servant back? It seemed things were going to be quite difficult for Rose.

Suddenly Rose felt Conor’s arm grab her waist. She had also noticed the horse’s leg come up high, but she was in no danger of falling off. Still, there was something so nice as a man doing a little something like that. He was being thoughtful, even if apologized profusely afterwards. Rose didn’t say anything about it, though she could still feel the slight pressure, like a ghost of his arm around her waist.

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[conormccarthy]

As the mare carried them onward, the path began to get darker as they entered the thicker woods between the two villages. Conor's vision was poor in the dark, but he knew the horse had slightly better vision. He knew nothing of the science behind the eyes, though he suspected it was for the same reason other animals could see well in the dark. Whatever that reason was.

So Conor trusted the horse to pick the path along the road, knowing she would take them directly along the road without slowing or shying. He petted her withers, shifting his weight slightly. The fell of Rose's back on his chest wasn't altogether unpleasant, though someone so close made his skin tingle at the proximity, undecided as to whether it was a comforting sensation or something to be wary of. Similarly to his horses, Conor was very aware of his personal space.

With the silence threatening to make him think far too much about a woman sitting so close, Conor spoke again. "How does it pay?" Being a fairly competent leather worker, Conor was often commissioned for more complicated items - thus higher paying than most - and once or twice he had been employed by nobility for certain things, mostly pieces of clothing or boots. Most of the time, leather was used in only parts of the attire, and Conor often worked alongside seamstresses to complete these combination pieces. His strengths lay in skins and leather, manipulating cotton and wool was not a strong point of his.

[Rose Barns]

rose BARNS

Rose had closed her eyes, letting her other senses explore. She could smell the dampness of the forest and could here a little bit of rustling from nighttime animals. She could also feel the air around her and Conor buzzing from the closeness. She was not used to being so close to people other than her family and Ash. She had never let herself get close to anyone else, not trusting anyone. But here she was, trusting Conor with her life. It was a strange feeling, though she didn’t know how to explain it.

Rose could also hear his breathing; his chest so close to her back. Another human heart beating near hers. That was thrilling. She could understand why people searched for someone to share their life, home, and bed with. It was to feel any kind of connection in this short life. And for peasant it was even shorter, so to find love and to find that connection was priceless. They would die for it, for there wasn’t anything else to live for. With those morbid and interesting thoughts, Rose was startled by the next question.

“The pay is fine, though not as well as under the old master,” Rose answered, not feeling endangered enough to state her opinion. "And you? What is it like working with leather and horses?"

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[conormccarthy]

The question was easy to answer. Conor knew with a deep satisfaction that he enjoyed his job. It was his life and so consequently, he enjoyed his life too albeit in a quiet and reserved way. "It's good," he replied, "It makes me happy." And the words were delivered in his usual soft way, but they were layered with such truth that despite the simple meaning of each individual word, the short sentence portrayed that core inside him that was content with his world the way that it was. Conor was indeed, happy.

Despite the smoothness of Millie's gait, no matter how hard Conor tried, he couldn't seem to put even an inch between him and Rose with the inevitable jostling that occurred with each step. Giving up his subtle attempts to reserve even a slight gap between them, Conor told himself to relax.

He took a deep breath, trying to sit as though he was riding alone as he always did. Unwittingly, however, that intake of air also drew the scents of the night deep into his lungs. The delicious damp smell of the cooling night was at the forefront, almost smothering the rest. He could smell the sweet dry smell of the horse, accompanied by the slight musk of the blanket they sat on. He would have thought to make a note to wash the aging thing if the last scent hadn't of done the equivalent of driven his mental process off a cliff.

Rose. He'd been too nervous before to notice her scent but now that he had, he would soon wish he hadn't. It wasn't that the smell of her was repulsive, it was in fact the opposite. Conor had never been close enough to anybody in years that he could actually smell them. Sure he had smelt other people when their odor was particularly pungent but the skin itself carried a smell so individual that Conor felt as if he'd made some huge social blunder equal to stumbling in on someone undressing.

He could smell the day on her, that ordinarily slight musk that everyone accumulated after a day of work. On Rose, it wasn't unpleasant. The warm smell of her skin combined with the slight musk made his stomach jolt, and much to Conor profuse embarrassment, he felt a rush of blood southward as his body showed its very masculine appreciation. Conor was glad he wore trousers of leather, and his complete and utter mortification dashed any primal urges that had tried to make themselves known before it became too obvious.

So flustered now as they approached the village of Locksley, Conor squeezed out one last question before his new-found confidence shattered into tiny pieces. "Where do you live?" He asked, his voice strained and layered with accent, a result that often came with strong feelings; currently it was compete and utter shame and humiliation.

[Rose Barns]

rose BARNS

The simple way Conor answered the question made Rose smile. It made him happy. Rarely did someone have a job that made someone happy. Rose wasn’t terribly unhappy at her job, but she wasn’t happy. She would be content with another job, but there was nothing else she could do. A woman as a blacksmith?! Was that even possible?

The ride wasn’t too comfortable, though it seemed as if Conor got closer and closer as they were slightly jostled. Soon they got closer to Locksley and he asked where she lived. “It’s not far,” Rose said very carefully. Her whole body was alert with Conor behind her and her breathing had been controlled and watched, afraid she was breathing too loudly.

“It’s just over there, near the old tree.” The tree had been in her family, in a sense. Her great-grandfather had planted it after he had built the little house. He had been a carpenter, though he did bigger things than just tools. He helped fix up parts in Locksley Hall before he died. He had left a young wife with a son. She had remarried and stayed in the house. Rose had always assumed that her brother would have taken the house next, but now Rose didn’t know what would happen. It wasn’t big enough for her, her family, a husband, and children.

(((so sorry it took so long)))

[conormccarthy]

Guiding Millie down the streets of Locksley, he used the tree's tall boughs as a beacon to guide him to Rose's home. The dwelling was modest, but not as large as some of the other family houses here. Conor himself lived in only one room at the Smith's home so the concept of having a whole house to himself was an alien thought.

There didn't seem to be any movement or light from inside, so the leather-worker assumed she lived alone. With a light touch of the reins, Conor told the horse to stop. "Woaah." He breathed, glad that the halt was smooth. Being a rather shock-proof horse, Conor could shuffle backward over Millie's rump to slide off the back without so much as a flick of the ear from the mare. With Rose sat in front, getting off otherwise would have been difficult and the notion of letting Rose get down first didn't cross his mind.

Before Rose could dismount, Conor was already standing below her, ready to offer her assistance on her way down. With no mounting block to help, the drop to the ground from the dappled mare was rather large.

The chill of night air raised gooseflesh along his arms now Rose was now capturing the heat against his chest with her back. The sudden sensation of space in front of him gave him the feeling he was missing something. He glanced up to Rose, hair falling back from his face as he stared at her forehead, typically avoiding her eyes. "Let me help you." He said, though it was barely a whisper. It felt almost rude to speak aloud when the rest of the village was so silent, its occupants all asleep in their beds.

[Rose Barns]

rose BARNS

The rush of cold night air against her came suddenly once Conor jumped off the horse. Here she was, home sweet home. The night of adventures was over and now she had to go back to reality of things and sleep and then get up to work in the morning. And she knew that Guy would be gone tomorrow. An opportunity for the Red Hawk. Perhaps she should not have stayed up so late.

Rose smiled down at Conor as he offered to help. “Thank you,” she said, taking his help. Once on the ground she walked near her home. It was quiet inside. Perhaps her family had been able to take care of themselves. Maybe they didn’t need her after all. But then she heard a shout from inside and she knew her brother was having a nightmare. She had not sung him to sleep, which usually calmed him.

A worried look over came Rose’s face and she looked to Conor, trying not to show it. “Good night, and thank you for everything,” she said with a smile. “I had a nice night and I hope to see you again” With that she slipped into her house and disappeared.

Rose hadn’t wanted to end the evening like that, but her brother’s nightmares were truly horrific and she could not bare the thought of him suffering. Maybe she would see Conor again and the thought made her smile before she reached her brother, who was in a cold sweat. Perhaps sleep was not in the schedule tonight.

[conormccarthy]

He lifted her down easily, taking his hands back as soon as her feet touched the ground. She wasn't a heavy lass, though he had known that when he swung her into the saddle when confronted by the thief earlier that night. Conor patted the mare's shoulder with calloused hand, looking over his shoulder when he heard a shout from inside. The mare's ear flicked, but she seemed unaffected.

The stable hand turned to Rose, about to ask after the safety of the house's occupants - the shout sounded like one of fear - but with a smile, she thanked him as if nothing had happened. As if she was used to men shouting in terror in her own home.

Conor watched as Rose opened the door and disappeared into the dark house. Who else was in there? She hadn't mentioned family, but then again, he hadn't asked. Putting a hand on the mare's withers and back, the young man leaped in a practiced jump from standstill onto the mare's back.

He took the reins and turned her a wide circle, and paused a moment to watch the house Rose had entered. Who was the man? A husband? She didn't wear a wedding band of any kind. Her father? A brother? Sighing, Conor urged the draft mare into a trot. He looked over his shoulder once before he left the village. "Good night."