Threats More Subtle Than Swords, Part 1
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Fandom: Robin Hood BBC
Rating: T for non-explicit violence
Timeline: After Episode 10, Series 2, but before Episode 12
Synopsis: When Marian becomes ill, Djaq is the only one who can help her, while the Sheriff gets an unexpected visitor.
Disclaimer: Characters and settings belong to the series of Robin Hood on BBC1 and Tiger Aspect Productions. I am only borrowing them to entertain, with no intent to profit.
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When Lady Marian entered the castle's stable, she wasn't surprised to find Allan a Dale there. She was, however, surprised that he was shoveling straw while the stable lass leaned against the wooden wall of the stall, coughing. It was the third time this week that Marian had seen Allan hanging around, and always when the same girl was working, but this redistribution of labour was new.
Sensing her approach, Allan stiffened, then straightened up and extended the shovel towards the girl. "That's the way, see? Now you try it."
Shooting a guilty look at Marian, the girl took the shovel, then coughed again.
"That sounds nasty," Marian remarked, and noticed the very brief flash of relief that showed on Allan's face as he realized it was only her, and not, for instance, Sir Guy of Gisborne or the Sheriff of Nottingham.
"Yes, my lady," the girl mumbled.
"You should go home and rest until you're better," Marian went on. "You shouldn't work when you're sick, you'll only make it worse for yourself."
"Yes, my lady," the girl said, but Marian could tell by her tone of voice that she was only giving the expected answer.
"It's all right, Elewisa," Allan said suddenly. "You can tell her what's going on."
The girl gave Allan a look of shock and despair, then glanced down at the floor. Marian noticed her head shake twice, just barely visible, as Elewisa tried to change the subject. "Shall I saddle your horse, my lady?"
Marion ignored the question. "What's going on?" she asked instead. "Elewisa?"
Elewisa lifted her head slightly, then looked down again, obviously ashamed. "I have to work, my lady. My mother's sicker than I am, can't leave her bed, and we need to eat."
"And pay your taxes, too," Allan prompted. Elewisa nodded, still looking down.
"Who's your mother?" Marian asked. "Where does she live?"
"In Nettlestone, my lady," Elewisa said. "Her name's Thora, my lady, she's a seamstress."
"I'll saddle my own horse," Marian decided, "and go see what I can do. And in the meantime, Elewisa, you just carry on letting Allan here do as much of your work for you as you can."
"Hey!" Allan protested, but the girl lifted her head and gazed thankfully up at Marian. "Yes, my lady," she replied in a more affirmative voice, then shot Allan a knowing smile.
Marian had just finished settling the saddle and bridle on her horse when she saw Elewisa glance beyond her, then duck out of sight as though fleeing from a fire-breathing dragon. She looked behind her to see if one were attacking the castle, but it was only Sir Guy of Gisborne striding in her direction.
"Marian," he said. She'd been expecting an accusing tone of voice, but he sounded more conversational than anything else. "What are you doing?"
"Riding out," she replied. "Now that I'm no longer under such strict house arrest, there's a seamstress I've heard of in Nettlestone I'd like to visit."
The Sheriff had not been pleased with Marian's continued outspokenness against him, or her actions, and had put her father in the dungeons as a psychological punishment. Marian herself had been under orders not to leave her room unless accompanied by a guard. She'd needed special permission to leave the castle, even for the short walk into Nottingham's marketplace. But after her father's death, the sentence had been lightened, somewhat at least. Although the Sheriff hadn't made an official announcement about it, Marian had noticed Guy easing up on her restrictions.
"You should find a seamstress closer to home," Guy said. "There's sickness in Nettlestone."
"I'll be all right," Marian assured him, smiling, and put her foot in the stirrup. Swinging herself up, she enjoyed the advantage of height that the horse gave her. She didn't often get the chance to look down at Guy.
"I'll come with you," he offered, then glanced around for someone to do his bidding. "Allan, saddle my horse."
"Guy," Marian said. "I'd prefer to go alone – I'm going to visit my father's grave on the way." That was where she'd originally been going before she'd heard about Elewisa's mother.
"Oh." Guy's face fell. Marian felt true regret at having to shut him out like that, but there was no way she could take him with her. He loved her, she knew that, and he did have qualities that she loved. But Marian also knew that there were too many things about him that cancelled out those good qualities, and one of those was the way he went along with the Sheriff's disapproval of helping the poor.
"If you'll excuse me, Sir Guy," she said, giving her horse the signal to walk on.
It didn't take Marian long to find Thora the seamstress in Nettlestone. The man at the bakehouse who sold her a loaf of bread and a meat pie was happy to give directions, but also cautioned her against going there. "She's sick, my lady, and you don't want to be catching what she's got."
Marian smiled and thanked him, and went directly to the cottage without regarding the warning. If she could no longer be the Nightwatchman, stealing anonymously out at night to help as many of the poor as she could, she could at least do this. She knocked at the door, and after a moment, a thin, weak voice called out.
Opening the door, Marian entered the cottage. The fire was out and the shutters of the only window were closed, so it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. Eventually, she saw that it was only one room, with a chair and table by the window, where Thora presumably did her sewing, and a low bed on the other side where the older woman was now lying.
"Thora?" Marian asked, coming closer to the bed.
Thora coughed, a worse version of her daughter's cough, then said raspily, "I cannot sew anything for you, my lady. But there's always Agnes in Nottingham, much as I hate to send any business her way, for her work is not as fine as mine, though she charges more."
"I'm not here to commission anything," Marian said. "I know your daughter, Elewisa, up at the castle."
"You know Elewisa?" Thora gasped, stopping to cough again. "But you're no stable lass."
"No," Marian said. "Elewisa is worried about you, so I brought you this."
She lifted the bread and the pie from her basket to show the old woman, then put the entire basket on the floor next to the bed. The woman didn't have to find the silver coin at the bottom until after she'd gone.
"She's a good lass, Elewisa," the woman said. "Tell her I said thanks."
Marian smiled. It wouldn’t hurt the older woman to think her daughter had sent it.
"Is she still seeing that man of Gisborne's? That Allan a Dale?"
But before Marian could answer, Thora had started coughing again. Marian glanced around for some water, but the bucket by the hearth was dry. She lifted it up. "I'll fill this at the well."
When she returned, she dipped a wooden cup in the water and knelt down at the woman's bedside to help her drink. Thora sucked it down eagerly, then sneezed suddenly, showering Marian's hand with moisture.
"Bless you!" Marian exclaimed.
"I thank you," Thora said. She lay back, and Marian was putting the cup back in its place when the woman spoke again in her raspy, halting voice. "Tell her she could do worse. Gisborne's cruel, but Allan, well, he's not so bad."
"I'll tell her," Marian said, hiding a smile. "But before that, I'll get you some more firewood."
On the way back to the castle, Marian took the road that led to Knighton, and stopped in the churchyard to visit her father's grave. She'd been surprised, but also flattered, when Guy had offered to pay for the stone cross. The Sheriff had been determined to make Marian bear all the costs, even down to letting her father rot in an unmarked grave if she didn't have the money to pay, and Marian knew how much it cost Guy to go against the Sheriff's wishes. She often wondered what was stronger in Guy's life; his desire for power, or his love for her. It was like a set of scales still in motion; she couldn't predict which side it would come down on.
Part 2
Fandom: Robin Hood BBC
Rating: T for non-explicit violence
Timeline: After Episode 10, Series 2, but before Episode 12
Synopsis: When Marian becomes ill, Djaq is the only one who can help her, while the Sheriff gets an unexpected visitor.
Disclaimer: Characters and settings belong to the series of Robin Hood on BBC1 and Tiger Aspect Productions. I am only borrowing them to entertain, with no intent to profit.
+++++
When Lady Marian entered the castle's stable, she wasn't surprised to find Allan a Dale there. She was, however, surprised that he was shoveling straw while the stable lass leaned against the wooden wall of the stall, coughing. It was the third time this week that Marian had seen Allan hanging around, and always when the same girl was working, but this redistribution of labour was new.
Sensing her approach, Allan stiffened, then straightened up and extended the shovel towards the girl. "That's the way, see? Now you try it."
Shooting a guilty look at Marian, the girl took the shovel, then coughed again.
"That sounds nasty," Marian remarked, and noticed the very brief flash of relief that showed on Allan's face as he realized it was only her, and not, for instance, Sir Guy of Gisborne or the Sheriff of Nottingham.
"Yes, my lady," the girl mumbled.
"You should go home and rest until you're better," Marian went on. "You shouldn't work when you're sick, you'll only make it worse for yourself."
"Yes, my lady," the girl said, but Marian could tell by her tone of voice that she was only giving the expected answer.
"It's all right, Elewisa," Allan said suddenly. "You can tell her what's going on."
The girl gave Allan a look of shock and despair, then glanced down at the floor. Marian noticed her head shake twice, just barely visible, as Elewisa tried to change the subject. "Shall I saddle your horse, my lady?"
Marion ignored the question. "What's going on?" she asked instead. "Elewisa?"
Elewisa lifted her head slightly, then looked down again, obviously ashamed. "I have to work, my lady. My mother's sicker than I am, can't leave her bed, and we need to eat."
"And pay your taxes, too," Allan prompted. Elewisa nodded, still looking down.
"Who's your mother?" Marian asked. "Where does she live?"
"In Nettlestone, my lady," Elewisa said. "Her name's Thora, my lady, she's a seamstress."
"I'll saddle my own horse," Marian decided, "and go see what I can do. And in the meantime, Elewisa, you just carry on letting Allan here do as much of your work for you as you can."
"Hey!" Allan protested, but the girl lifted her head and gazed thankfully up at Marian. "Yes, my lady," she replied in a more affirmative voice, then shot Allan a knowing smile.
Marian had just finished settling the saddle and bridle on her horse when she saw Elewisa glance beyond her, then duck out of sight as though fleeing from a fire-breathing dragon. She looked behind her to see if one were attacking the castle, but it was only Sir Guy of Gisborne striding in her direction.
"Marian," he said. She'd been expecting an accusing tone of voice, but he sounded more conversational than anything else. "What are you doing?"
"Riding out," she replied. "Now that I'm no longer under such strict house arrest, there's a seamstress I've heard of in Nettlestone I'd like to visit."
The Sheriff had not been pleased with Marian's continued outspokenness against him, or her actions, and had put her father in the dungeons as a psychological punishment. Marian herself had been under orders not to leave her room unless accompanied by a guard. She'd needed special permission to leave the castle, even for the short walk into Nottingham's marketplace. But after her father's death, the sentence had been lightened, somewhat at least. Although the Sheriff hadn't made an official announcement about it, Marian had noticed Guy easing up on her restrictions.
"You should find a seamstress closer to home," Guy said. "There's sickness in Nettlestone."
"I'll be all right," Marian assured him, smiling, and put her foot in the stirrup. Swinging herself up, she enjoyed the advantage of height that the horse gave her. She didn't often get the chance to look down at Guy.
"I'll come with you," he offered, then glanced around for someone to do his bidding. "Allan, saddle my horse."
"Guy," Marian said. "I'd prefer to go alone – I'm going to visit my father's grave on the way." That was where she'd originally been going before she'd heard about Elewisa's mother.
"Oh." Guy's face fell. Marian felt true regret at having to shut him out like that, but there was no way she could take him with her. He loved her, she knew that, and he did have qualities that she loved. But Marian also knew that there were too many things about him that cancelled out those good qualities, and one of those was the way he went along with the Sheriff's disapproval of helping the poor.
"If you'll excuse me, Sir Guy," she said, giving her horse the signal to walk on.
It didn't take Marian long to find Thora the seamstress in Nettlestone. The man at the bakehouse who sold her a loaf of bread and a meat pie was happy to give directions, but also cautioned her against going there. "She's sick, my lady, and you don't want to be catching what she's got."
Marian smiled and thanked him, and went directly to the cottage without regarding the warning. If she could no longer be the Nightwatchman, stealing anonymously out at night to help as many of the poor as she could, she could at least do this. She knocked at the door, and after a moment, a thin, weak voice called out.
Opening the door, Marian entered the cottage. The fire was out and the shutters of the only window were closed, so it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. Eventually, she saw that it was only one room, with a chair and table by the window, where Thora presumably did her sewing, and a low bed on the other side where the older woman was now lying.
"Thora?" Marian asked, coming closer to the bed.
Thora coughed, a worse version of her daughter's cough, then said raspily, "I cannot sew anything for you, my lady. But there's always Agnes in Nottingham, much as I hate to send any business her way, for her work is not as fine as mine, though she charges more."
"I'm not here to commission anything," Marian said. "I know your daughter, Elewisa, up at the castle."
"You know Elewisa?" Thora gasped, stopping to cough again. "But you're no stable lass."
"No," Marian said. "Elewisa is worried about you, so I brought you this."
She lifted the bread and the pie from her basket to show the old woman, then put the entire basket on the floor next to the bed. The woman didn't have to find the silver coin at the bottom until after she'd gone.
"She's a good lass, Elewisa," the woman said. "Tell her I said thanks."
Marian smiled. It wouldn’t hurt the older woman to think her daughter had sent it.
"Is she still seeing that man of Gisborne's? That Allan a Dale?"
But before Marian could answer, Thora had started coughing again. Marian glanced around for some water, but the bucket by the hearth was dry. She lifted it up. "I'll fill this at the well."
When she returned, she dipped a wooden cup in the water and knelt down at the woman's bedside to help her drink. Thora sucked it down eagerly, then sneezed suddenly, showering Marian's hand with moisture.
"Bless you!" Marian exclaimed.
"I thank you," Thora said. She lay back, and Marian was putting the cup back in its place when the woman spoke again in her raspy, halting voice. "Tell her she could do worse. Gisborne's cruel, but Allan, well, he's not so bad."
"I'll tell her," Marian said, hiding a smile. "But before that, I'll get you some more firewood."
On the way back to the castle, Marian took the road that led to Knighton, and stopped in the churchyard to visit her father's grave. She'd been surprised, but also flattered, when Guy had offered to pay for the stone cross. The Sheriff had been determined to make Marian bear all the costs, even down to letting her father rot in an unmarked grave if she didn't have the money to pay, and Marian knew how much it cost Guy to go against the Sheriff's wishes. She often wondered what was stronger in Guy's life; his desire for power, or his love for her. It was like a set of scales still in motion; she couldn't predict which side it would come down on.
Part 2