A Place Called Home [Tag A+L]

[Kate Miller]

Wednesday. Drop off day. Today, for most, was a happy day. Yet so far Kate had very little to be happy about. She was yet to hear anything from any one about the status of the rescue. Truthfully she hadn’t expected to hear anything, she thought Luke would just run off with them after helping them, and she’d be non-the-wiser. Forgotten about by her own best friends. Again.

After the last few days’ events, Kate really didn’t have a lot to be happy about anyway. Will had been captured, Luke had put himself in danger, her father proved himself to be a complete bastard, and worse still Sarah knew about it. She just hoped that Rachel didn’t. Rachel who was sat at the foot of her bed awaiting Kate’s attention. A hair brush in hand and a couple of ties. Kate was playing the dutiful elder sister, braiding her sisters hair on demand. Luckily for her, Sarah could already do it on herself, Rachel however was not so lucky.

She called out for Kate once again. She had been for the last five minutes. Honestly Kate was wanted to get on with the chores she had been set, - mentally – by her father. But until such times as she paid attention to Rachel she wouldn’t be given a moments peace. And if she ignored her too long her father would most probably complain about the racket and get mad at Kate for it anyway.

Sighing, Kate went to her sister’s ‘aid’ and brushed her hair into two sections. Parting it equally and gathering hair in one hand. Cross, cross, tuck. Twist turn tuck. This would continue for both sides of her head for the next two minutes. It would be rough and loose, but Rachel’s hair wasn’t exactly the longest Kate had come across, for some reason the girl preferred to keep it short – unlike her two sisters. The younger Miller chattered away about Mark, and the most recent adventures as Much and his Marian, as Kate tugged gently at the blonde strands of hair. She smiled at the girls happiness, and longed for her own childhood. Running around, slightly better off, with the Scarlett boys. And William. Her William. Her darling brother whom she missed so much.

He was fighting that stupid holy war. And for what? So he could be maimed and slaughtered, only for news never to reach their family because he served no great importance. He was no a King’s Guard, he was a soldier. A simple man. The Miller’s boy. Nobody knew who William Miller really was, and in truth, none of them cared. But Kate cared. She loved her brother, she missed him. She wished he was back, like he had been the Christmas before last.

She let out a small cough as she cleared her throat. Tapping Rachel on the shoulder to indicate that she could now stand and go and find her Much. Her youngest sibling simply smiled, kissing Kate on her non-bruised’ cheek just to be on the safe side and not hurt her sister. She ran off out into the village. That child was odd. Kate shook her head as she let out a laugh.

Right then. Tidying.

She knew if she didn’t do something to help out at least in the main room, her father would throw a fit. Or things. In Kate’s general direction. That had happened once before. Making her way out in the main room of the house, she found Rachel had left the door wide open. Typical. As she crossed the room she shut it quietly – slamming it would only anger him further.

She looked over her work place – the desk. A good a place to start if any. Grabbing up the random scraps of material she shoved them into the wooden box, she could have swore was Scarlett in design, and placed it back into the cupboard. She had to go quietly about all of her movement. To harsh on something and her father would get angry at her to ‘damaging things’. Obviously see set out to damage their only belonging because she was that much of a selfish bitch.

Before she shut the cupboard up, she grabbed the scrap of material, more commonly known as a duster, and wiped the table down. Well that was one part of the cottage done. Now she just had the rest of it to do.

* * *

It would be correct to say that Kate was bored. She’d tied her hair back, and gotten down to work, and now at late morning, the house was looking pretty clean. Sparkling some might say. She’d done it all, but god how she was bored.

Cleaning as not what she would have referred to as a ‘fun’ task. More with the ‘dull’ and ‘boring’ words than those of enjoyment. But she’d done it and it gave her father one less thing to moan at her about. She’d even cleaned out the cupboard, gotten a few piles of things she could sell to a stall at the market. She’d found a few scraps of material she’d though she lost.

What came as the greatest difficulty, oddly, was folding the clothes of one Allan A Dale. A not so subtle reminder of what he had given in to being, just by the bride of a little extra money. For so little he had given up his friends and helping those in need for himself. Is that really what he came down to in the end? A selfish idiot who was so easily swayed?

For one, Kate hoped not.

Especially if he was meant to be back with Robin now. Helping Luke, and Will, and making sure they kept themselves out of trouble. But that’s what he did now. That is what mattered. He was back, reconciled. He had to be a good man at heart. Even if money and a little power made him woozy and bat for the other side. She just had to believe in his better self, didn’t she?

More than that though, she hoped he kept his promise, of coming, or sending somebody, to tell her news of Will’s condition, be it good or bad she didn’t care as long as she knew. She was few up of people lying to her, and her never knowing what was going on. She hoped they remembered about her pathetic excuse for an existence soon. Even if it did mean that they’d see her bruises – no matter how much she wanted to hide it, not wanting anybody to know. Well Allan already did. He didn’t need to know that his presence had caused her that little be extra. But she wanted to know about Will. So she’d have to risk it.

[Allan A Dale]

Allan was, to put it simply, a little pissed.

He didn’t like kids. He felt he was quite bad with them (although, if they were just playing a game, he could get on with them extremely well. He was a great uncle figure, but not a dad one), and although Luke wasn’t exactly a child - hell, he was an adult, there was no two ways about that - he felt disgruntled that he’d been stuck with what he considered babysitting duty. Especially since the younger Scarlett was dragging his heels and acting very much the child in some vain hope that it would stop him being taken back to Knighton.

Of course, it wouldn’t work, but Allan couldn’t really blame the lad for trying. He’d probably have tried the same thing if it had gotten him out of leaving his boyfriend’s Will’s side.

Allan felt a little guilty about that. On the one hand, he didn’t want to leave Will’s side because he was still injured and needed someone there to keep him sane, and to keep mothering him in a less-than-motherly way. The young man seemed to be a little antsy already (probably due to all the attention he was receiving - he didn’t seem to like being in the spotlight, and that was just one of the things that Allan found endearing about the young carpenter) and Allan had felt awful leaving him alone once again.

On the other hand, Will had asked him to do this and was showing that he trusted Allan to take good enough care of his one and only little brother - and all that remained of his family - and see him safely back to Knighton, along with making his deliveries. That was an honour, although he wouldn’t admit it - if he did, he’d have the mick taken out of him forever - and one he had to uphold, despite how much he’d really rather not go anywhere.

Funnily enough, he was in a bit of pain too.

He absentmindedly rubbed his chest a little; there was some bruising there, and it wasn’t going to disappear any time soon, not that it really mattered. The only male outlaws with a change of clothes were Much and Robin; the rest seemed content to remain mucky. If you got dirty the moment you were clean anyway, what was the point in getting clean? Allan always found that if he left it long enough, the dirt would naturally fall off anyway. And everyone in town stank of sweat and dirt too, so it wasn’t like his aroma was particularly noticeable.

Allan hefted his heavy bag of goods (food, money, even a few old clothes were thrown amongst the items for the poor) and pondered his choices right now. He could easily turn around, knock Luke out, and run away with the loot to some other shire - Cambridgeshire, perhaps, maybe even London if he felt daring enough. He could live like a lord for a while, spend the money lavishly and wouldn’t have to starve for a while either he’d have a change of clothes and could make himself presentable when he had certain company. All in all, it wasn’t a bad idea - it wasn’t like Robin would stand any chance of finding him, was there?

Of course, if he did do that, Will would certainly never forgive him, and nor would the others, and at the end of the day he really did love his little gang of misfits and miscreants, so that idea was unfeasible.

Another option was to give Luke the loot and make him run with it, but he dismissed the idea instantly. Luke was too much like his brother to warrant his going along with the plan; knowing Allan’s luck, it would be a repeat of their attempt to leave for Scarborough, and Allan didn’t fancy going through that again.

His last option was to take the loot, and Luke, to Knighton, drop them all off at the appropriate houses (the Smiths, the Carpenters, the Millers - for Luke, at least, the Thatchers… the list went on…) and then return to camp in order to bug Much about his squirrel soup and to poke Will’s hand a bit more.

Allan decided this option wasn’t so bad. He wouldn’t upset anyone, and he’d get to see Kate again, more than likely. He wondered what her reaction would be like; would she be pleased to see the pair, or would she be as awkward as she had been last time, that fateful morning? Would she jump at Luke, hugging him till he turned blue in the face, and offer a shy smile to the outlaw who had stayed in her house, or would she be cool and calm? How had her father reacted after he’d left, a pile of clothes in the spare room and no name? What about the two young girls he had seen; where they her sisters? Or visiting relatives?

He smiled a little. He’d definitely leave some of the clothes in the bag at her door, along with little Luke, who was still trailing along behind him with his own bag of stolen goods. Allan turned his head slightly to look and rolled his eyes. Was he worn out already? Had he ever done a good day’s work in his life, honest or otherwise? You would have thought that, being in a family of carpenters, he’d have a bit of muscle, but then both Will and Dan were (or had been, in Dan’s case) quite skinny and compact. However, Luke was more of a reed than compact, so it was really a redundant point.

He stopped for a moment to allow Luke to catch up and smiled at him. He had hoped recent events might have reconciled the problems they’d had when they first hooked up - when Will was caught - but he wasn’t sure he had. He seemed to have trust problems with Scarletts. Maybe he just wasn’t compatible with them. Or maybe they were just stubborn. It was obviously one or the other, and he liked to think it was the latter.

”Won’t be long before we’re there,” he muttered kindly. ”Any idea what you’re going to do?”

He knew idle chitchat probably wasn’t welcome, but he didn’t like the silences any more. It reminded him too much of being alone. And he wasn’t alone; for all his sulking, whining and angsting, Luke was good company. When he wasn’t behaving like a petulant five year old. But then, everyone had their moments, and Allan was happy to allow him this one.

He grinned mischievously. ”You know, I’ve been wondering. Has Will always been ticklish around his neck? Or is that something he’s developed? And has he always fought like a girl?”

If this didn’t get the ball rolling, nothing would.

[Luke Scarlett]

Luke kicked angrily at the leaves covering the path from Sherwood Forest. He watched them fly up into the air and then flutter back downwards along with several clumps of dirt that he had dislodged with the force of attack on the defenceless floor. He trudged forwards another few places before beginning his insolent scuffing at the leaf litter again, this time wincing as he caught his toe on a root hidden under the leaves. Even the forest was ganging up on him he grumbled internally, staring forlornly down at his toe which was throbbing slightly.

It isn't fair! He thought as he hefted the needlessly heavy sack of goods onto his shoulder so that it didn't slip down and trail on the ground. Hot, angry tears welled up in his eyes which only made him feel all the more furious. Why didn't Will want him around? Why was he so determined to send him away? And Allan... Luke glared at the back of the outlaw's head. He just went along with whatever Will said, no questions asked. His brother wasn't supposed to be able to boss everyone around, he couldn't even get out of bed without help.

He felt the stirrings of guilt bubbling up inside him. Will was injured and he needed to recover, he didn't need Luke around causing him worry. Still, after the successful rescue he'd had the faint hope that Will would change his mind. Even after everything he'd been through to get Will out his brother still didn't believe he was capable of looking after himself. How was he ever going to prove his worth if his elder sibling tried to protect him all the time?

When Allan had sent him to bed he'd tried to stay awake for a while, still feeling like he was abandoning his brother. But the bedroll had been comfortable and he really had been exhausted. The weariness from travelling back to Nottingham, the stress and worry of seeing his brother captured, knowing he was going to be tortured and finally the rescue and subsequent fear that he was going to lose his sibling had all taken their toll on Luke. And he'd done all of that on an empty stomach, which was probably a good thing because he'd come close to vomiting on several occasions.

Anyway, sleep had claimed him a lot quicker than he would have liked and when he woke, what could only have been an hour or so later, due to a terrible nightmare that hadn't plagued him since Dan died, Will was conscious. At the time he'd felt a little stab of annoyance when it became apparent that his brother had been up for some time. Allan had promised to wake him if anything happened and it had only taken a few words, admittedly from Will who was stubborn as a mule, to make him go back on it.

The bad feelings towards Allan had evaporated almost as soon as he got up though. His relief at seeing Will on the path to recovery had skewed his mood towards barely contained joy for the rest of the daylight hours. He'd even managed to forget that soon enough they would have to have the horrible conversation about where he was going to stay. It had come all too soon, no matter how much he protested, sulked and finally cried Will had been insistent that his little brother couldn't remain in the gang.

He'd tried appealing to Robin. Hoping that as leader of the gang he would overrule Will and decide that Luke was worthy to be a member of the outlaws. But Robin had remained steadfast in his faith in Will's judgement that Luke was not ready of the life of an outlaw yet. He'd even tried to guilt trip Will into letting him stay, accusing his older brother of trying to get rid of him just like he had after their dad died. He still felt guilty about that, seeing the look of remorse on Will's face as he so callously brought up their father, the pain he'd caused by blaming his brother for trying to send him away to safety.

He'd continued to sulk that evening, using his family's stubborn streak to keep his anger on the slow burn through the night and into the morning. His mood had not improved when Allan explained to him, because he wasn't talking to Will, that as his brother was injured Luke would have to help with the Knighton drop off and then he could be left with Kate. So that was it, he was going to be dropped off along with all the other charity from Robin and forgotten about. He'd left without a word to Will and had been dragging his feet ever since.

It was all very well for them to say he was too young to be in the gang, but then as soon as they needed the extra hands they had him lugging provisions for the Knighton people. He'd been tempted to drop the sack once they got outside the camp and make Allan carry it. That would teach him not to break his promises and not to side with Will all the time... In the end he'd decided to ungraciously bare the burden. It wasn't really Allan's fault that he was being sent away and he did have a bad ankle after all. He may be in a bad mood but Luke still had some idea of what was fair.

”Any idea what you're going to do?” He heard Allan ask, snapping him out of his moment of self pity. Great. Now the outlaw was going to try to make conversation with him and Luke really wasn't in the mood. They'd lasted most of the way to Knighton in silence, he supposed he could at least try to be civil for the remaining journey. He shrugged and then realised Allan couldn't see the gesture because he was trailing so far behind. He jogged a little to catch up, the sack of good bouncing on his shoulder as he picked up the pace.

Once he was level with Allan he offered him a small reluctant smile. ”I don't know.” He said truthfully then gave the matter some thought. ”Probably stay with Kate and find a job. I doubt her father will be happy about it though, but he might be appeased if I offer to pay off the flour we stole...” He looked despondent at the prospect of getting work and to be honest the thought of living with Kate's father scared him a little. It would be a gamble, what if the man decided to turn him over to the Sheriff again?

He was cheered by Allan's next comment and it made him feel a little bad for reacting so badly to the outlaw before. At least he was trying. ”Yes he has, you should try his ribs.” He said, gleefully revealing his brother's weak spot when it came to tickling. His face fell when he remembered the bandages Djaq had wrapped tightly around Will's torso. ”But maybe not for a while...”

(OOC: I match that post and raise you 86 words, lol. Edited for continuity...)

[Kate Miller]

In God’s honest truth, Kate was bored. She sat at the desk overlooking the green. She could vaguely see Rachel and Mark running about from the corner of her eye, but her main vision was focuses on all the extra chain mail clad bodies about the place. Guards were still placed everywhere – more so than before it seemed. Kate assumed it was because of Will. But there was also rumour of a new Lord moving in. Kate had run into the washer women on the way back from the well the day before. They heard word that he was a bit of a Lady’s man. Flirt pars say.

By the sounds of what they were chattering about, he was a young Lord. Half of Edward’s age if not younger. This made Kate laugh, a young ladies man. The villagers, or at least the women would have a field day trying to guess which noble lady would be hitting his hay – so to say. To be honest, Kate was a little excited to see the newbie. As much as her family benefited when Edward was in residence, Knighton didn’t half suffer when Marian left Gisborne at the altar. The best and yet the worst thing the woman ever did.

Marian was one woman Kate had never been scared to look up to. Sure her outspokenness got her in trouble with her father more often than not. And her ‘bold’ actions had the same effect. But if there was one person Kate respected more than anybody, it was her. She’d taken it upon her to become somebody else. Starting small, just in Knighton, leaving parcels and packages for everybody. Nobody was meant to know this of course, but the Night watchman was caught, and escaped, but oddly was never seen again by anybody. So it had to be somebody close to power, and Kate doubted it was Gisborne. So she liked to believe it was her. The Night Watchman, was Robin Hood before Robin was. Now he took all the credit, the man that he was. Typical. Knowing Allan, the little that she did, she would bet all her belongings that if any of the gang knew of his fight with the burly guard, he would leave out the bit about her helping him, if not rescuing him…

It was a good six months, if not longer, ago that Gisborne had taken to putting a torch to the walls of Lady Marian’s home. As soon as the villagers had seen the blaze they’d run to the stream, buckets a plenty. As soon as Gisborne was gone they got to work, but nothing in their power could stop the onslaught of the flames. Knighton Hall fell to the ground. It had taken weeks upon weeks to clear the rubble. But once it had been done they started work. At least the men did. On repairing the house to its former glory. Obviously, it would never be the same. But in all attempts they couldn’t make it identical, to have done so would have been impossible.

Kate’s mother had been employed to do the furnishings. The curtains, and bed coverings. And now the Hall was back up, and it looked stunning. They’d gone off their own backs to rebuild such a marvellous house. In many ways it was better than the original, but there would always be that added sentimental value of the old Hall. It had been the home of the former Sheriff and his family. His only daughter, an outlaw. And Edward was a few months dead. Knighton had mourned its loss. And held the burial, for their former Lord, in the Chapel graveyard.

Kate sighed. What had been the other jobs her father had moaned about to her the previous day? She’d done the cleaning what else did he want? Kate’s memory drew a blank. She’d remember later. Right now her lip was sore and probably needed cleaning. She hated that she had to hide from everybody for a few days subsequent to any of their arguments. She liked to get out, have a bit of a laugh in the village, especially when it was busy. But people talked, and they would be staring and talking some more. At the present moment, out and about was not the place for Kate to be.

Kate made her way into her, and her sister’s, bedroom. Her shoulder was hurting also. Her not so vague recollection of what he father had inflicted on her told her that he’d gripped her by the shoulders with an awful pressure. She hadn’t checked the night before, nor at the Well, the space to open to be pulling down the collar of her dress such a way. Once she had been home in the comfort of her room, it was too dark, and Rachel was in bed next to her, so she daren’t do anything to it out of fear she would ask too many questions and the cover story would be blown.

Sarah and Kate had told Rachel that Kate had slipped off the stool when putting away some cuttings whilst doing some editions. The story seemed to pass.; she’d hit her cheek bone on the door of the cupboard and caught her lip on a splinter. Rachel would be none the wiser. Such a story wouldn’t pass with Luke though. She’d have to come up with something better.

She sat on the edge of her bunk, and gently tugged at the material that covered her shoulder. It would be slightly difficult to see, but from the position she sat, the light from the window fell directly on her, the best viewing place in the room to be checking injuries. Something she had done plenty of times over the last year or so. She lightly ran her fingers over the uncovered skin. There were faint purple marks, four of them, one from each of his fingers. Had he really held her that forcibly?

Replacing the sleeve, she repeated the movement on the other side. This time there were three slightly more defined bruises. God how she hated her father some times. How could he sleep at night knowing he’d done such things?

[Allan A Dale]

Allan held back a chuckle as Luke jogged to catch up with him, and he slowed his pace a little. He could sort of understand why he was so upset by these developments; he’d really wanted to stay and help the gang, be one of the team, fight the injustices of the Sheriff and help his big brother. It was noble of him. But the fact remained that Will didn’t want his kid brother put at risk when he was all the family he had left.

Allan couldn’t blame Will for that.

He nodded. It had been a silly question, but worth asking just to get the kid talking and hopefully draw him out of his mildly depressing state. He raised an eyebrow at that comment, though.

”He the one you nicked that flour off, then?” he asked, cringing as he realised he’d just repeated his companion. He only vaguely recalling Will mentioning the reason for their imprisonment when they first met. It hadn’t exactly been a pleasant introduction and Allan had been more focused on saving his own hide than beginning a friendship with any of the youths he’d been shoved in with.

”I mean, I take it he weren’t too happy with you? Have you seen him since you got back?”

He wanted to pat the young man on the shoulders as he looked like he was getting even more depressed, but his hands were kind of full. This certainly wasn’t the way he’d intended the conversation to go. He decided to pick up a different line of conversation.

”Hey, we all gotta do something for a living, mate. Take me for example. Till Robin saved me hide, I lurked around in taverns and swindled ale-addled farmers out of their hard-earned cash. Wasn’t a glamorous life,” he mused, thinking of many times when he’d been chased down the streets of Rochdale, Norwich and other towns, flying into empty houses and alleyways and, on one memorable occasion, stumbled into a brothel where he found his brother a bit occupied.

He shuddered unintentionally. That was one thing he would rather forget.

Again, the line of conversation went sour. Couldn’t he find a nice topic? Or was he really cursed around Scarletts?

”Hey, don’t be like that. He’s a fast healer and there’s no permanent damage - you heard Djaq as well as I did. He’ll be up and running around like a suicidal… well, actually, a taller and skinner Robin, in no time at all.”

He wasn’t sure this was working, so he tried a different tactic.

”Y’know he’s well proud of you, right? It’s not ‘cause he doesn’t want you around, it’s just…”

He groaned a little in frustration. How did he get this out without suggesting he knew the feeling?

”I guess he wants you to be safe,” he finished lamely, keeping his gaze straight ahead and realising they needed to take a left now. He turned sharply and edged Luke around a pit trap he’d found a few months before, on his way to try and sneak into the camp while he was working for Guy. That one had hurt, but he’d eventually made it to camp in one piece to deliver Marian’s message.

(OOC - not uber but hey, they can't all be!)

[Luke Scarlett]

Clearly the response was all the encouragement Allan needed to launch into a long rambling conversation, he hadn't realised the outlaw talked so much, although maybe that was because he'd never really had a chance to talk with the man before. Whenever they were together he seemed to be more interested in flirting with Kate, or talking with Will. He supposed it made sense though, Allan and Will were friends and Luke was only Will's little brother why should Allan want to talk to him? And he'd be more than a little worried if Allan started to turn the charm on him instead of Kate.

"Yeah he wasn't happy at all. In fact he was angry enough to report us to Gisborne and the Sheriff." Luke scowled feeling a little bubble of bitter anger. He didn't want to have to beg for charity off the man who had tried to have him hung, but he had nowhere else to go. "I guess I'll have to go and talk to him when we get to Kate's. I just hope I can get away without sparking his temper."

Luke looked at Allan interested, he'd known the man used to be a thief, but Will hadn't told him any details, no doubt hoping that his younger brother wouldn't get any ideas and try his hand at picking pockets. "Is that why you were in the dungeons when Will and I were there?" He asked boldly, not sparing a moment to think that it might be a sore subject for Allan. "You can't have been that good if you got caught." He teased.

The conversation returned to the subject of Will and his injuries and the grin dropped from Luke's face. "He's still hurt though." He mumbled looking miserable. "And it's my fault, he never would have gone over to Gisborne if he hadn't been trying to protect me."

Luke ducked his head a little embarrassed as Allan told him Will was proud of him. He didn't see what reason his brother had to be proud of him, Luke was a failure at most things he tried. He hadn't learnt the family trade, he couldn't wield an axe that well and he wasn't even good enough to join the gang. "I'd be safer with Will." He said stubbornly. It probably wasn't true, Will was an outlaw it didn't get much more dangerous than that, but Luke still had an unwavering confidence that his elder brother would always keep him safe, no matter how much trouble they got into.

[Allan A Dale]

”Ouch” Allan replied. That was nasty, what Kate’s old man had done, and he was certain Kate felt horribly about it. He wasn’t sure he really liked this man, even though he hadn’t actually talked to him; perhaps it was too soon to judge. He would figure it out, eventually. He gave Luke a sympathetic smile. ”Just gotta hope he’s in a good mood, I guess.”

Allan cringed. He could clearly remember that day, how he’d been caught poaching and nearly lost a hand (or a finger - he would never know if the guard would have “accidentally” missed and taken the hand anyway), and possibly his life, but had thankfully been saved by Robin (and not for the last time). He’d run away, unable to carry on poaching even if he’d wanted to as he’d left his bow and arrows in the clearing with the guards; perhaps he’d be able to go and pick them up later. Instead, he made his way quickly out of the woods and found a path that lead to Nottingham, to see if he couldn’t find a bit of luck there.

Lady Luck must have had a bet on him dying or something.

He’d barely been in Nottingham for five minutes when he was tackled by a guard and accused of stealing a young woman’s purse, and just for once it actually hadn’t been him. So he’d been thrown into jail for a crime he didn’t commit, and nearly hung for it too!

He scowled a little as he answered Luke. ”I was jailed for someone else’s work, not my own. If it had been me, I wouldn’t have been caught. I don’t get caught!” Mentally, he added, Unless I’m in the Trip and it’s Guy doing the catching.

Brightening, he added, ”Either way, I’d still be a better thief than you mate! You need some practice.”

He felt bad for the kid, but also wanted to cuff him round the ear too. What was it with the people he’d surrounded himself with and guilt tripping? ”Luke, what could you have done that would have made the slightest bit of difference? If you’d stayed, you would have been caught and Will would never have forgiven himself. If you’d gone to fight, you’d probably have been killed. And if you hadn’t been there, it would have still happened because I insisted on going to Knighton with a dodgy foot, and because of that ankle and that damn pit trap we didn’t scout out the place like we usually do.”

So it was probably my fault, he added to himself.

Allan nearly laughed. ”You’ll be more likely to get a clip round the bloody ear, mate. You ain’t been around, it’s not safe being an outlaw. Not even from other outlaws. They aren’t all as nice as us,” he replied, throwing Luke a grin. He turned to face ahead again and noted they were getting close to Knighton. ”No more talk of outlaws, mate. We could come across a guard or something, and if they hear us they’ll try and catch us. As it is, if we do encounter one, we could probably just go past like we were shopping.”

He hoped Luke got that idea out of his head sharpish. Will wouldn’t be able to protect him forever, and it was a hard reality but one that had to be faced. There was always other people to factor in. But Allan didn’t want to dash his beliefs just yet, so he kept quiet.

[Luke Scarlett]

Luke pouted, of course Allan was a better thief it was his job! He thought it was rather childish of the outlaw to lord it over him, especially when he had no idea if Luke was any good at picking pockets anyway. The flour stealing incident hardly counted, he'd only been 14 at the time and it hadn't even been his idea. Luke had known that Peter Miller had a temper and he hadn't wanted to be on the receiving end, but Benedict had been desperate.

"If you don't get caught how comes everyone knows you're a thief?" Luke asked cheekily, still smarting. "Anyway, you offering? Because I don't think Will would be too pleased to hear you're tempting his little brother to the wrong side of the law." He didn't sound remotely worried about what Will would think about him learning to steal properly, in fact he sounded quite gleeful. He looked at Allan, sudden curiosity wiping out any bruises to his pride that the outlaw may have inadvertently caused.

"It wasn't your fault either." Luke said with equal conviction. It seemed that in trying to persuade Luke that he wasn't the guilty party Allan had somehow managed to convince himself that he was to blame for the whole sorry mess. "Will is stubborn, he probably would have gone over to Gisborne whatever the situation." He wasn't in the habit of saying anything bad about his brother, since he still pretty much idolised him, but he figured it was safe to do so with Allan. The outlaw knew the elder Scarlett sibling better than most.

"I know!" Luke grouched, hefting his sack onto his shoulder so that it didn't start to slip. "You're as bad as Will sometimes." He wasn't completely incapable, even if he did need the practise, he could figure out when to keep his mouth shut.

He fell silent again as they reached Kate's house, the nerves at having to go and talk to Peter alone getting the better of him. Dropping his bag at Allan's feet he shot the outlaw a tight smile. "I'll be back soon to help with the drop off. I'm going to talk to Kate's dad. Tell Kate where I am and wish me luck!" Luke turned and headed briskly through the house to where he remembered the workroom being before what little courage he'd managed to scrape together completely escaped him.

[Kate Miller]

"I'll be back soon to help with the drop off. I'm going to talk to Kate's dad. Tell Kate where I am and wish me luck!"[/i] Kate’s brow knitted as she heard her front door open, with a voice, that sounded exactly like Luke Scarlett’s rang through her home. What? Luke?! she pulled her dress back over her shoulder after her examination of her bruises.

”Uh, crap!” she quickly thought to herself. She couldn’t let him see her like this. But at the same time, how could she possibly avoid him for a week if he was back? She bite down on the un-split side of her lip. It was now or never. But if he was talking about going to see her father, who the hell was he talking to.

She pulled open the door into the main room of the house, seeing Allan outside the front door. Her eyes widened slightly. There would be no denying what had happened to her, not to him. He’d see her father go for the attack the night before he’d done it for real. He’d put two and two together incredibly quickly. Bugger! She had opened the door now, a movement the outlaw would undoubtedly seen if not heard. She couldn’t just turn around and hide now.

Luke had disappeared through into the Mill. She just saw the door shutting behind him as she’d come out of her room. Her hair half fallen down now, half still up in a ponytail. She smiled a small smile before going to the door. Grabbing a hold of the door handle she looked round to Allan. The more confident she acted the less likely he would be to ask. Well, that was the theory. One she knew was completely wrong.

”You can come in you know.” she laughed slightly, a sharp pain rushing through both her lip – which was on the verge of splitting again if she kept smiling the way she did – and her cheek, which instead of being the dark pink colour it had been the day before, was now a darker shade of purple. She’d asked Sarah for a round up on how it all looked earlier in the morning before she disappeared. She hadn’t been impressed.

Safe to say neither was Kate. Even less so now she had company - especially company that would question her until she was blue. Even then Luke wouldn’t be happy and ask more. She needed to come up with a more suitable cover story for Luke than she had for Rachel. He wasn’t just a kid, he wasn’t stupid. She didn’t see the point however in making one for Allan. He’d see right through it straight away.

[Allan A Dale]

Luke made a good point. Just how DID everyone know that he was a thief? He supposed part of it was noteriety from being in Robin's gang; although that in itself begged the question of how people found out about them. Robin, Much, Will and John, he could understand; they were from Nottingham, they knew people who could spread word of them, but him? He hadn't been in Nottingham long enough, at the start, to build enough contacts to warrant such knowledge, and yet people had seemed to know all about him. A small part of him wanted to ponder the idea that maybe, just maybe, his name preceded him, but he knew that was going a bit too far.

He probably just gave off that kind of feel.

He shrugged, and shot a grin at Luke. "Hey, what Will doesn't know won't hurt him." He liked the thought that Luke wanted to learn about thieving - it was a useful skill and one that had served him well for many a year!

And apparently he was reasonably observant. A good start. He smiled at Luke sadly. "It wasn't your fault either." Probably not, if he thought about it properly, but in these circumstances everyone blamed themselves, didn't they? He was fairly sure Much would find a way to blame himself at some point, and that was just ridiculous.

"Well, it's all in the past ain't it?"

He was mildly stunned, and a little put out, when Luke wandered off to try and speak with Peter Miller. He could understand though; better to get it over and done with, and be able to leg it the hell out of there rather than put it off, build up nerves, and run into the door when the time came. The mental image brought a smile to his face; he didn't think Luke would do such a thing, or that it would result in Luke having to run away, but it amused him all the same.

However, there was still the matter of the dropoffs. He'd never actually had to do one alone, as the gang had always paired up to ensure that if one person risked the chance of being caught, at least another would know what happened and could report back. Robin was fairly careful when it came to the welfare of his men (and women). Allan looked down at the sacks and sighed, mentally tallying what had to go where. He wasn't out in the open, so it wouldn't matter if he left the bags here while he ran about and dropped off what was necessary, was it?

Maybe he'd even have time to go and bug Kate some more. He'd been wanting to talk to her since he'd last seen her, apologise maybe; he felt he'd made a bit of a prat of himself, and also to thank her, and generally just to make sure she had been alright after he'd left.

"You can come in you know."[/i]

Or maybe he could go see her first. He smiled at her, gave a small wave, and heaved the sacks out of view to lean against the wall of her house. No one would be that nosey, probably assume it was some flour or perhaps even some cloth. That done, he leaned against her doorway, arm resting against the top of the frame, and smiled.

"Nice to see- bloody hell!"

His grin turned to shock, and he took a step back. What had happened to her? Had the guard woken up, remembered her face and smacked her around? No, if he'd done that, Kate would be in the castle dungeons already. Collaborating with an outlaw and all that. Whatever the cause of this was, it had been done locally, and was a private matter.

"Not being funny, but did you walk into a door or something? You're a bloody mess."

Not the most tactful of observations, or particulalrly pleasant, but it was accurate. He was a little worried about her lip and pushed her inside, edging in after her and closing the door. He put a hand on one shoulder and tipped her chin up so he could see a bit better. It was a fairly clean cut, but it looked painful.

"What happened?" he asked, seriously.

[Kate Miller]

She kept up her cheerful façade as he approached the door, leaning against its frame casually. A smile plastered to his face to match her own. One that soon faded as he got a decent look of her. "Nice to see- bloody hell!" [/b] She quirked an eyebrow and smirked slightly, holding onto the door as if it would protect her from the no doubt endless list of questions that were about to come her way.

”Nice to see you too!” she’d quipped. He’d gone on to inform her that she looked a mess. How nice of him. She made a mental note to use it against him at some point. That’s if her father didn’t find out that he was still about, and completely lose it with her. Not something she really wanted right now. ”Thanks Allan, you look like crap yourself! And something like that, yeah.” she smiled weakly, not long before he was nudging her into her home and shutting the door behind him.

He reached up for her chin, she jolted, contact wasn’t exactly something she wanted, especially that of the male variety. It just wasn’t something she’d be comfortable with until the pain went a little. Okay, so he wasn’t about to hurt her more, he was trying to help, but it still wasn’t something she wanted. ”What happened?”[/i] she tugged her chin from his grasp, taking a small step back.

”Nothing!” she snapped a little too quickly. She rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. He was a thief and an outlaw, thus, he wasn’t stupid. Far from it. He wasn’t about to add two and two together and make five. She paused, her gaze not meeting his for a second, staring at the grass outside of the window. ”You can’t tell Luke.” She said still not looking at him, and withdrawing from him a little more, taking a deep breathe, and swallowing air, ”Or Will.” she added as an almost afterthought.

[Allan A Dale]

"Nice to see you too!"[/i]

"No offence or nothing," he added as an afterthought, studying her features. He just didn't understand how she could have gotten like that, and continued listing possibilities. Tripped and fell? Plausible, he supposed, but unlikely. It would have been a hell of a fall. Maybe she had walked into the door? No, she wasn't that clumsy. He almost grinned at the thought of his own clumsiness, falling into Will's pit trap.

"You look like crap yourself!"[/i] He rolled his eyes. He didn't imagine he looked like a bed of roses but he'd spent most of the night trying to get comfortable, having forfeited his bunk to Luke and spending his night on the forest floor. It wasn't like he was complaining; he'd been doing such for years before, but he'd gotten so used to sleeping in a bed during his time at the castle that he'd forgotten what it was really like to have a root for a pillow again.

He was a little saddened when she jumped in his grasp and pulled away; didn't she trust him? He couldn't blame her, he supposed; she'd known him one night. But he had thought he'd made a fast friend in the girl and was dismayed to see her retreat from him. He hoped he'd hidden his sadness.
It did put some things in perspective though. The defensive response, shying away from contact (he wondered if it was out of pain or if it was because he was a man), the split lip... He remembered the cold fury of Peter Miller as he walked in on Allan holding his daughter, and the anger he had displayed towards her even in that short time. He wasn't an idiot. Most of the time.

"Nothing!"[/i]

Allan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and I'm the king of England."

He took a step back, leaned against the wall next to the door and rested one hand on his shoulder, the other hanging loosely. He cocked his head to one side and smiled softly. See, he hoped his body language was saying, Nothing to fear here.Won't come near ya if you don't want it.

"Now come on, what do you take me for?" he asked, mock offended. "I'm not gonna go worrying Luke if I don't have to. Kid's got a natural mother hen nature. And Will? Will's fine by the way," he said, deciding to forego the details of his brief imprisonment. "Little bit bruised, but I can't say he's any worse off than you." A blatant lie, but one better told at the moment, he felt.

"What happened, Kate?" he repeated. "You can tell me. I'm a regular agony aunt, me."

[Kate Miller]

”Yeah, and I’m the king of England!” She wished. If he were the King of England however, would he be off in the Holy Lands, fighting the stupid ‘Holy’ War? If he was the King of England, she would have her brother with her, he’d protect her from her father. Will and Luke would have parents. Robin’s gang would not be outlaws, the Sheriff would not be the Sheriff and all in all, the country would be a happier place.

But he wasn’t the King of England. He wasn’t sat on a throne in London, he was leaning against a wall in some stupid beaten up peasant girls house. She most certainly was bruised to the bone and in a smidge of pain. "Now come on, what do you take me for? I'm not gonna go worrying Luke if I don't have to. Kid's got a natural mother hen nature. And Will? Will's fine by the way little bit bruised, but I can't say he's any worse off than you."[/i] That was a laugh. Of course he was worse off than her. If he wasn’t he would be in Knighton doing the drop off himself. Allan, however, had moved away from her, he’d understood then, gave her, her space.

”Yeah, because he just got tortured! Whereas I got hit once by my father!” she said sarcastically, and rather bitterly to say the least. She knew he was just trying to make her feel better, and not let her worry any more about her friend. She’d spent yesterday, as one of the worst days she was yet to have, worrying about will, Luke, and herself. It wasn’t fun, and not an experience she really wanted again. So getting rid of Allan sooner rather than later would probably be a good thing.

She took a seat on the edge of the bed, the one which Allan had been glued to for a while two evenings ago, before there little act in the changing room, Keeping her eyes glued to a point at his feet. She was looking at him at least. ”I'm a regular agony aunt, me." she laughed slightly at that, Ever the girl.

”I worry about you sometimes you know that?” she asked, her gazed lficking to his for a millisecond before darting back to his boots, ”All this talk of feminism, one day I migh actually that you are indeed Alana!” she smirked slightly. Just keep of the topic of her abusive Father, and everything would be okay.

[Allan A Dale]

Allan rolled his eyes. Bloody women. Couldn't seem to just take one's word for it. At least he'd gotten her to actually come out and say what had happened. He rubbed the back of his neck with his loose hand, smiling apologetically. "Djaq's just not letting him out of her sight for a while, mate," he offered as an explanation for Will's absence. "Think it gave her a bit of a shock, but he ain't that bad, honest." Truth be told, he didn't want to let Will out of his sight either, but someone had to carry on and unfortunately, this was one of those few times that Djaq would use her status (as a doctor, not a woman, although he figured that would probably work too) to her advantadge.

"I worry about you sometimes, you know that?"[/i] Allan grinned. How sweet.
"I get that a lot," he replied. "Mostly from Djaq. Sometimes from Much. Silently from Will." He debated the merits of telling her about his brief crossdressing experience but decided against it; he could always use it later if he really had to make her laugh and cheer her up. "I don't see nothing wrong with being in touch with my feminine side, thanks."

He sobered up, though. She's said it was her dad, and he wasn't going to let that go. "But that's a nasty cut, for one hit," Allan continued, nodding to Kate as she glared at him, or so it felt. He didn't get why she was being so defensive about it; if the old man had hit her, she shouldn't defend him and she shouldn't belittle it! At the least, Marian and Djaq would have his head for letting a strong young woman go around acting like the weaker sex. At the most, it offended even his questionable morals. It was one thing smacking your kids for something wrong, but Kate was a grown woman and deserved to be treated like one. And you didn't split your kid's lip when you hit them, either.

Allan couldn't help it; his lip curled as he spoke, the anger got the better of him for a moment. "Hit you with a fist, eh? Maybe an elbow, or a foot? Did he slip?" He felt ashamed for his mocking tone, but dammit, she needed some backbone! He didn't think for a minute that she let the man hit her around, but he had a feeling that it was something of a common occurance around this house, and that she didn't do anything particulalrly beneficial to help herself.

[Kate Miller]

”Will’s a worrier, it’s what he does. I can’t vouch for the other’s though.” she said with a slight laugh. And of course there was nothing wrong with being in touch with ones feminine side, but as much as he seemed to be. The forest warped you, quite obviously,

As much as she hoped he would, he hadn’t been capable of dropping the subject of her injuries. Had she really expected him too? Not really. But she didn’t really want to talk about it. ”But that’s a nasty cut, for one hit!” “Well believe it or not Allan, he did only strike me once!”[/b]

Then he got sarcastic about it. ”You think I let him ‘slip’? Give me some credit, Allan! It’s not like I went and asked him to give me a whack because I’d been ‘naughty’. I’m not exactly the biggest of people. It doesn’t take a lot for him to get one up on me! He’s bigger and stronger! There wasn’t a whole lot else I could do! If I shout or scream he’ll only do it more!” she chucked out at him. She didn’t really want to admit to it all. But he wasn’t likely to drop it until she said something of the sort.

She pulled on the fabric of her dress sleeve, again not really a conscious action, just one that sort of happened. Baring the purple marks on her shoulder to him. ”No, one hit didn’t do it all! But it was enough! He’s stronger than he realises! I’m not condoling his actions. The bastard deserves everything he gets! But he’s my father!” it was a pathetic excuse, but strangely true. She hated the man she really did. But that didn’t stop her from loving him too.

She replaced her sleeve, flicking her pony tail over her shoulder so it rested on her back. ”Happy now? Or would you rather know that he didn’t bust my lip? Would you rather know that he tried to throw me across the room, and when I landed I bit through my own lip? Or would you rather just blame him for all of it because it’s easier than realising that it might actually be your fault!”

She shut her eyes tight, opening them again not daring look towards him. She hadn’t meant to say that. Of course it wasn’t his fault.