The Force of Destiny - Ch. 2
Title: The Force of Destiny, Chapter 2
Author: railise
Rating: PG
Pairings/characters: Allan/Kate, Pieter (OC), Matthew, Rebecca and Robin
Word count: 2435
Spoilers: While this alters the end of S2, there are still minor spoilers for the whole run of the show, including S3.
Summary: A dropoff in Locksley is complicated by the arrival of the sheriff's newest lackey.
Notes: This chapter was originally started for the Write Kate Right competition at treatmuchright, but I just couldn't get it under the word limit for that. A few tweaks, and it's worked out well here! :)
Disclaimer: I make nothing from this, and claim no rights to the show or anything related to it.
master list of chapter links
previous chapter
-2-
As the gang approached Locksley for the deliveries the next afternoon, Marian laid a hand on Robin’s arm. “No unnecessary risks today.”
He gave her a half-amused, half-affronted look. “We’re handing out food and coin; what risks could I possibly take?”
“I am sure you could find a few,” she answered lightly.
Shaking his head, Robin handed Much the package for the potter's family. Much eyed it in dismay.
"Do I have to? Can't John take it?" he asked a bit desperately.
The corners of Robin's mouth tugged upward. "Why, Much! Do not tell me you're afraid of a poor widow."
Much huffed. "I'm not afraid of her. I just don't like her going on at me all the time about how we put them in danger by helping them, and we'll bring the sheriff down on the town, and can't we bathe every now and then? She'd never go on like that to John. Or Marian! She'd be nice to Marian, I bet."
As Robin grinned, Allan stepped up and clapped Much on the shoulder. "I'll get this one," he said, taking the package and strolling toward the cottage without waiting for a reply.
When he was out of earshot, Much turned to Robin, looking quite pleased with himself. "I think it worked."
"You did well, my friend," Robin agreed with a laugh, handing him a basket for the thatcher's family.
Unaware of any part of that exchange, Kate carefully set three finished pots on a shelf in the workshop. Behind her, Matthew shut the door to the kiln and looked over to her, his eyebrows rising as his gaze went past her shoulder. "Hey, Kate, your boyfriend's back," he teased.
She glanced up and saw Allan A Dale loping in the direction of their house. Turning to shoot her brother a glare, she snapped, "He's not my boyfriend." But, thinking of the blue-eyed outlaw who had been verbally sparring with her lately, she could not hold back a small smile. Glancing down at the clay on the table in the middle of the room, she added in a softer tone, "He'd be all right if he'd bathe once in awhile."
"If you don't get moving, you'll miss him," Matthew pointed out.
"Like I care," she retorted, but stepped out onto the path anyway.
Allan had just turned toward the door of the cottage, but smoothly veered to the right to meet Rebecca's daughter in front of their workshop. He had not really paid much attention to her in the past, mostly dealing with her mother when he was the one to make the delivery to their family. The woman had a sharp tongue, but she was nothing compared to his own mother, and she did not terrify him like she did the others. However, since he had first had a chance to speak with Kate a couple of months back, when Rebecca was ill, he had started really looking forward to the gang's trips to Locksley. Kate was easy to rile, but she gave as good as she got, and it had been awhile since he had a chance to match jibes with so worthy an opponent. Not to mention that she was nice to look at-- not that he would give her the satisfaction of saying so.
"You again?" she called as he walked up to her. "Don't you have anything better to do than annoy me every week?"
"What can I say? I drew the short straw."
She sniffed. "Seems to me Locksley drew the short straw the day you lot walked in."
"Oh, so now you're the voice of Locksley? You've lived here, what, a year?"
"That's a year longer than you," she pointed out haughtily. “And it’s not like I’m exactly from very far away; Farthing’s just down the road a piece-- not that they're any better off when you stop there.”
He started to reply, when the sound of hoofbeats echoed between the cottages. Both of them turned toward the sound, in time to see sheriff's men ride into the village, their current commander in the middle. Pieter, he was called; ever since Guy became useless, the sheriff seemed to go through a new henchman every week or so. This one was particularly ugly; short and thin to the point of being angular and hollow-looking, with pinched, cruel features and greasy, dark hair. His voice was high-pitched and nasally, with an accent that Allan could not place. Nor did he find it particularly important to figure out, since there was sure to be a new man in Pieter’s position soon.
Allan noted some of the gang hurrying to hide as he moved to do the same, but he could not have said where everyone wound up.
"Quick, in here," Kate hissed, pulling Allan into the workshop. Matthew was already shoving aside crates from underneath a table, and gestured for Allan, still clutching their parcel, to duck into the hiding place. As Kate hastened to rearrange the crates to conceal him, the boy went outside to divert attention from the movement within.
Pieter brought his horse to a halt in the center of the village, and surveyed the stoic faces of the peasantry around him. "The sheriff requires a woman," he announced. With a twist of his thin lips, he explained, "He needs a pretty young girl to entertain a guest. I assured him that I could find a volunteer in Locksley."
His words made their way into the workshop, where Kate was just about to slide the last crate in front of Allan. Their eyes met as they heard what Pieter was after. "You should get in here," Allan said quietly.
Kate shook her head. "There's no room."
"Then I'll get out."
"And hang when he sees you," she muttered, shoving the crate into place. "Just stay there and shut up. I can take care of myself."
She was just about to stand when Pieter said from the doorway, "Well, well. What have we here?" Kate froze, still hunched over, as he walked deliberately up behind her. "Thinking of hiding, were you?" he murmured dangerously into her ear.
From behind the crates, Allan tensed, preparing to jump out and distract Pieter. But before he could, a voice only marginally recognizable as Kate's rasped, "O' course not, sir." Bemused, Allan held still, waiting to hear what happened next.
Rising only a little and keeping her back crooked, Kate turned awkwardly and squinted up at the man as if she were nearsighted. "I were just tidyin' up me shop." She leaned a little closer to his face, peering even more. "Did I hear y'say y'need a pretty girl?"
He moved back slightly, unable to keep all of the uncertainty off his face. "Yes..." he answered slowly.
She bestowed a twisted, toothy grin on him. "I'd love t'volunteer," she ground out, somehow managing to flutter her eyelashes through the squint.
"You?" Pieter asked in disbelief.
Wrinkling her forehead, Kate leant back as if offended. "Wha'? M'brother says I'm a right looker!"
Pieter glanced at the boy hovering in equal parts terror and indignation from his hemmed-in position between two of the guards, and rolled his eyes. "Right." With a shake of his head, he stalked out of the workshop, gesturing for his men to fall in. Nobody within the structure moved, afraid they would return.
A few minutes later, Pieter and his company exited the village with the carpenter's daughter, Elaine, in tow. As soon as they were out of sight, Matthew grabbed Kate in a bear hug as Allan pushed the crates aside and clambered out from beneath the table.
"You were brilliant!" Matthew enthused. "How did you think to do that?"
Allan eyed her curiously. "What was that?"
Dropping back into her guise, Kate squinted at him. "What was wha’?" she rasped, shuffling crookedly toward him.
He burst out laughing. "Not being funny, but that is terrifying."
"I'm going to go make sure Mum and Maggie are all right," Matthew cut in, and then left to do so.
Realizing he was still holding their care package, Allan handed it to Kate. "Here. And thanks for helping me out there, though you shouldn’t have."
Setting the package down on a throwing wheel, she scowled at him. "I don't need you telling me what to do. I did just fine."
He held up his hands. "Hey, I'm not arguing. Just, anybody involved with the sheriff is not someone you want to mess with. If he finds out you lied--"
"He won't," she declared.
Allan stared at her, frustrated at her insistence. "Fine. Forget I said anything."
"Fine. I will."
“You know, you’d be almost tolerable if you’d learn to say ‘thanks’ once in awhile,” he snapped.
She made a wordless sound of outrage. “Oh? Well, there’s nothing that could make you even remotely tolerable.”
“Is that a fact?”
“It’s a fact.”
“Shrew.”
“Thief.”
Before he knew what he was doing, Allan had grabbed her shoulders and was kissing her. He was even more surprised to realize that she was kissing him back.
He had only just realized it when she shoved him away.
“Lech!”
“Tease.”
She went to slap him, but he caught her wrist before the blow could connect.
His hand was sending tingles up her arm, and Kate could not help herself; she bounced up on her tiptoes, wrapped her other arm around his neck, and pressed her lips to his.
He had just let go of her wrist in order to hold her properly, when someone pointedly cleared their throat from the doorway. Horrified, Kate pushed back from Allan, nearly toppling a shelf of pots that she bumped into as she flew away from him. Allan grabbed her arm to steady her, as Robin rescued the pottery, trying-- with little success-- not to laugh.
Once all was in order, Robin nodded to her. “Kate.” He then focused on Allan. “We need to make a plan. Pieter’s taken Elaine, and we’re getting her back. C’mon.”
“Sure, I’ll be right there.”
“We’re meeting behind the church,” Robin told him, and jogged out.
Once they were alone again, they stood there awkwardly, not making eye contact. “I’ve gotta go,” Allan said, rather unnecessarily.
“Right.”
Neither of them moved.
“I should check on my mum,” said Kate.
“Yeah.”
Finally, they looked at each other and burst out laughing, erasing the tension in the air.
“So, am I remotely tolerable, then?” he asked.
Raising an eyebrow, she admitted, “Remotely. Barely remotely, but remotely.”
He chuckled, and then moved closer to her. A strand of pale hair had fallen in front of her ear, and he tucked it back into place. “You should send me along,” he murmured. “It’s risky to be linked to us.”
“It’s risky to live under Nottingham,” she pointed out dryly. “But you’re right; I should send you along.”
He blinked, trying to turn the disappointment suddenly riling his stomach into resignation, which was easier to digest.
“But,” she continued, leaning in toward him, “I don’t think I will.”
“No?” His word mixed with her breath, she was so near to him then.
“Uh-uh.” This time, their kiss was slower, more curious.
It was with extreme reluctance that Allan finally broke it off. “I’ve really gotta go.”
“Yeah, you’ve got to rescue Elaine. Matthew’s sweet on her, you know.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Now you do. Go on, then.” She stepped back, nudging him toward the door.
He turned to leave, and had just ducked out of the workshop when something made him stop. Leaning back in, he asked, “Hey, you wanna have a picnic tomorrow?”
The question was completely out of nowhere, and she stared at him in surprise before blurting, “With you?”
His euphoria dimmed. “That’s kind of what I was thinking, yeah.”
She shook her head quickly. “No, that’s not what I meant. Sorry. Of course, I’d like to go on a picnic.”
“You’re not just saying that, are you?”
Giving him a pointed look, she retorted, “Do I seem like a person who just says things?”
Confidence restored, he grinned. “True enough. Meet me in the meadow at lunchtime, then.”
“Okay.” She gave him a warm smile, and he went over for one last, quick kiss before heading out to join the lads.
A few minutes later, Rebecca came in, but Kate hardly noticed, as she hummed to herself and painted a simple flower design on a pot.
Rebecca waited for her daughter to say something, but when she did not, finally announced, “I saw you kissing that outlaw.”
Kate’s head shot up, her good mood shattered by her mother’s accusatory tone. “So?”
“‘So?’ What do you mean, ‘So?’ Kate, he’s dangerous. They all are! And I’m not the only one who saw you. What if someone tells Sir Guy?”
“Then they tell Sir Guy,” Kate said irritably. “It’s not like he’s been doing much other than drinking, anyway.”
Rebecca stared at her in shock. “You’d be arrested and hung for associating with Robin and his gang!”
Kate gave a toss of her head. “Doubful. And anyway, they’d save me.”
“What if they’re gallivanting off to the Holy Land, like they did before? Then who’d save you?”
Kate looked levelly at her mother. “I trust them, Mum. I trust Allan. And besides, the sheriff’s lackey waltzed in here today. It could’ve been me he took to Nottingham, instead of Elaine. How is that any safer?”
“I could forbid you to see him.”
“You could. I’d still see him.”
“Kate, you’re too old to be acting this way,” Rebecca frowned.
“I’m too old to be treated this way.”
They stared at each other in frustration, at a stalemate.
“Please, don’t talk to that boy anymore,” Rebecca whispered.
“He’s not a boy,” said Kate softly. “And I’m not a girl. I’m a woman, and I’m going on a picnic with a man I fancy tomorrow.”
Without another word, Rebecca whirled around, storming back to the house.
Kate looked down at the pot in her hand. She had smudged the flower design. But rather than tossing it aside, she turned the smudge into a highlight, and then added the effect around the rest of the piece.
Her mother would come around. She had to.
Hadn’t she?
next chapter
master list of chapter links
Author: railise
Rating: PG
Pairings/characters: Allan/Kate, Pieter (OC), Matthew, Rebecca and Robin
Word count: 2435
Spoilers: While this alters the end of S2, there are still minor spoilers for the whole run of the show, including S3.
Summary: A dropoff in Locksley is complicated by the arrival of the sheriff's newest lackey.
Notes: This chapter was originally started for the Write Kate Right competition at treatmuchright, but I just couldn't get it under the word limit for that. A few tweaks, and it's worked out well here! :)
Disclaimer: I make nothing from this, and claim no rights to the show or anything related to it.
master list of chapter links
previous chapter
-2-
As the gang approached Locksley for the deliveries the next afternoon, Marian laid a hand on Robin’s arm. “No unnecessary risks today.”
He gave her a half-amused, half-affronted look. “We’re handing out food and coin; what risks could I possibly take?”
“I am sure you could find a few,” she answered lightly.
Shaking his head, Robin handed Much the package for the potter's family. Much eyed it in dismay.
"Do I have to? Can't John take it?" he asked a bit desperately.
The corners of Robin's mouth tugged upward. "Why, Much! Do not tell me you're afraid of a poor widow."
Much huffed. "I'm not afraid of her. I just don't like her going on at me all the time about how we put them in danger by helping them, and we'll bring the sheriff down on the town, and can't we bathe every now and then? She'd never go on like that to John. Or Marian! She'd be nice to Marian, I bet."
As Robin grinned, Allan stepped up and clapped Much on the shoulder. "I'll get this one," he said, taking the package and strolling toward the cottage without waiting for a reply.
When he was out of earshot, Much turned to Robin, looking quite pleased with himself. "I think it worked."
"You did well, my friend," Robin agreed with a laugh, handing him a basket for the thatcher's family.
Unaware of any part of that exchange, Kate carefully set three finished pots on a shelf in the workshop. Behind her, Matthew shut the door to the kiln and looked over to her, his eyebrows rising as his gaze went past her shoulder. "Hey, Kate, your boyfriend's back," he teased.
She glanced up and saw Allan A Dale loping in the direction of their house. Turning to shoot her brother a glare, she snapped, "He's not my boyfriend." But, thinking of the blue-eyed outlaw who had been verbally sparring with her lately, she could not hold back a small smile. Glancing down at the clay on the table in the middle of the room, she added in a softer tone, "He'd be all right if he'd bathe once in awhile."
"If you don't get moving, you'll miss him," Matthew pointed out.
"Like I care," she retorted, but stepped out onto the path anyway.
Allan had just turned toward the door of the cottage, but smoothly veered to the right to meet Rebecca's daughter in front of their workshop. He had not really paid much attention to her in the past, mostly dealing with her mother when he was the one to make the delivery to their family. The woman had a sharp tongue, but she was nothing compared to his own mother, and she did not terrify him like she did the others. However, since he had first had a chance to speak with Kate a couple of months back, when Rebecca was ill, he had started really looking forward to the gang's trips to Locksley. Kate was easy to rile, but she gave as good as she got, and it had been awhile since he had a chance to match jibes with so worthy an opponent. Not to mention that she was nice to look at-- not that he would give her the satisfaction of saying so.
"You again?" she called as he walked up to her. "Don't you have anything better to do than annoy me every week?"
"What can I say? I drew the short straw."
She sniffed. "Seems to me Locksley drew the short straw the day you lot walked in."
"Oh, so now you're the voice of Locksley? You've lived here, what, a year?"
"That's a year longer than you," she pointed out haughtily. “And it’s not like I’m exactly from very far away; Farthing’s just down the road a piece-- not that they're any better off when you stop there.”
He started to reply, when the sound of hoofbeats echoed between the cottages. Both of them turned toward the sound, in time to see sheriff's men ride into the village, their current commander in the middle. Pieter, he was called; ever since Guy became useless, the sheriff seemed to go through a new henchman every week or so. This one was particularly ugly; short and thin to the point of being angular and hollow-looking, with pinched, cruel features and greasy, dark hair. His voice was high-pitched and nasally, with an accent that Allan could not place. Nor did he find it particularly important to figure out, since there was sure to be a new man in Pieter’s position soon.
Allan noted some of the gang hurrying to hide as he moved to do the same, but he could not have said where everyone wound up.
"Quick, in here," Kate hissed, pulling Allan into the workshop. Matthew was already shoving aside crates from underneath a table, and gestured for Allan, still clutching their parcel, to duck into the hiding place. As Kate hastened to rearrange the crates to conceal him, the boy went outside to divert attention from the movement within.
Pieter brought his horse to a halt in the center of the village, and surveyed the stoic faces of the peasantry around him. "The sheriff requires a woman," he announced. With a twist of his thin lips, he explained, "He needs a pretty young girl to entertain a guest. I assured him that I could find a volunteer in Locksley."
His words made their way into the workshop, where Kate was just about to slide the last crate in front of Allan. Their eyes met as they heard what Pieter was after. "You should get in here," Allan said quietly.
Kate shook her head. "There's no room."
"Then I'll get out."
"And hang when he sees you," she muttered, shoving the crate into place. "Just stay there and shut up. I can take care of myself."
She was just about to stand when Pieter said from the doorway, "Well, well. What have we here?" Kate froze, still hunched over, as he walked deliberately up behind her. "Thinking of hiding, were you?" he murmured dangerously into her ear.
From behind the crates, Allan tensed, preparing to jump out and distract Pieter. But before he could, a voice only marginally recognizable as Kate's rasped, "O' course not, sir." Bemused, Allan held still, waiting to hear what happened next.
Rising only a little and keeping her back crooked, Kate turned awkwardly and squinted up at the man as if she were nearsighted. "I were just tidyin' up me shop." She leaned a little closer to his face, peering even more. "Did I hear y'say y'need a pretty girl?"
He moved back slightly, unable to keep all of the uncertainty off his face. "Yes..." he answered slowly.
She bestowed a twisted, toothy grin on him. "I'd love t'volunteer," she ground out, somehow managing to flutter her eyelashes through the squint.
"You?" Pieter asked in disbelief.
Wrinkling her forehead, Kate leant back as if offended. "Wha'? M'brother says I'm a right looker!"
Pieter glanced at the boy hovering in equal parts terror and indignation from his hemmed-in position between two of the guards, and rolled his eyes. "Right." With a shake of his head, he stalked out of the workshop, gesturing for his men to fall in. Nobody within the structure moved, afraid they would return.
A few minutes later, Pieter and his company exited the village with the carpenter's daughter, Elaine, in tow. As soon as they were out of sight, Matthew grabbed Kate in a bear hug as Allan pushed the crates aside and clambered out from beneath the table.
"You were brilliant!" Matthew enthused. "How did you think to do that?"
Allan eyed her curiously. "What was that?"
Dropping back into her guise, Kate squinted at him. "What was wha’?" she rasped, shuffling crookedly toward him.
He burst out laughing. "Not being funny, but that is terrifying."
"I'm going to go make sure Mum and Maggie are all right," Matthew cut in, and then left to do so.
Realizing he was still holding their care package, Allan handed it to Kate. "Here. And thanks for helping me out there, though you shouldn’t have."
Setting the package down on a throwing wheel, she scowled at him. "I don't need you telling me what to do. I did just fine."
He held up his hands. "Hey, I'm not arguing. Just, anybody involved with the sheriff is not someone you want to mess with. If he finds out you lied--"
"He won't," she declared.
Allan stared at her, frustrated at her insistence. "Fine. Forget I said anything."
"Fine. I will."
“You know, you’d be almost tolerable if you’d learn to say ‘thanks’ once in awhile,” he snapped.
She made a wordless sound of outrage. “Oh? Well, there’s nothing that could make you even remotely tolerable.”
“Is that a fact?”
“It’s a fact.”
“Shrew.”
“Thief.”
Before he knew what he was doing, Allan had grabbed her shoulders and was kissing her. He was even more surprised to realize that she was kissing him back.
He had only just realized it when she shoved him away.
“Lech!”
“Tease.”
She went to slap him, but he caught her wrist before the blow could connect.
His hand was sending tingles up her arm, and Kate could not help herself; she bounced up on her tiptoes, wrapped her other arm around his neck, and pressed her lips to his.
He had just let go of her wrist in order to hold her properly, when someone pointedly cleared their throat from the doorway. Horrified, Kate pushed back from Allan, nearly toppling a shelf of pots that she bumped into as she flew away from him. Allan grabbed her arm to steady her, as Robin rescued the pottery, trying-- with little success-- not to laugh.
Once all was in order, Robin nodded to her. “Kate.” He then focused on Allan. “We need to make a plan. Pieter’s taken Elaine, and we’re getting her back. C’mon.”
“Sure, I’ll be right there.”
“We’re meeting behind the church,” Robin told him, and jogged out.
Once they were alone again, they stood there awkwardly, not making eye contact. “I’ve gotta go,” Allan said, rather unnecessarily.
“Right.”
Neither of them moved.
“I should check on my mum,” said Kate.
“Yeah.”
Finally, they looked at each other and burst out laughing, erasing the tension in the air.
“So, am I remotely tolerable, then?” he asked.
Raising an eyebrow, she admitted, “Remotely. Barely remotely, but remotely.”
He chuckled, and then moved closer to her. A strand of pale hair had fallen in front of her ear, and he tucked it back into place. “You should send me along,” he murmured. “It’s risky to be linked to us.”
“It’s risky to live under Nottingham,” she pointed out dryly. “But you’re right; I should send you along.”
He blinked, trying to turn the disappointment suddenly riling his stomach into resignation, which was easier to digest.
“But,” she continued, leaning in toward him, “I don’t think I will.”
“No?” His word mixed with her breath, she was so near to him then.
“Uh-uh.” This time, their kiss was slower, more curious.
It was with extreme reluctance that Allan finally broke it off. “I’ve really gotta go.”
“Yeah, you’ve got to rescue Elaine. Matthew’s sweet on her, you know.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Now you do. Go on, then.” She stepped back, nudging him toward the door.
He turned to leave, and had just ducked out of the workshop when something made him stop. Leaning back in, he asked, “Hey, you wanna have a picnic tomorrow?”
The question was completely out of nowhere, and she stared at him in surprise before blurting, “With you?”
His euphoria dimmed. “That’s kind of what I was thinking, yeah.”
She shook her head quickly. “No, that’s not what I meant. Sorry. Of course, I’d like to go on a picnic.”
“You’re not just saying that, are you?”
Giving him a pointed look, she retorted, “Do I seem like a person who just says things?”
Confidence restored, he grinned. “True enough. Meet me in the meadow at lunchtime, then.”
“Okay.” She gave him a warm smile, and he went over for one last, quick kiss before heading out to join the lads.
A few minutes later, Rebecca came in, but Kate hardly noticed, as she hummed to herself and painted a simple flower design on a pot.
Rebecca waited for her daughter to say something, but when she did not, finally announced, “I saw you kissing that outlaw.”
Kate’s head shot up, her good mood shattered by her mother’s accusatory tone. “So?”
“‘So?’ What do you mean, ‘So?’ Kate, he’s dangerous. They all are! And I’m not the only one who saw you. What if someone tells Sir Guy?”
“Then they tell Sir Guy,” Kate said irritably. “It’s not like he’s been doing much other than drinking, anyway.”
Rebecca stared at her in shock. “You’d be arrested and hung for associating with Robin and his gang!”
Kate gave a toss of her head. “Doubful. And anyway, they’d save me.”
“What if they’re gallivanting off to the Holy Land, like they did before? Then who’d save you?”
Kate looked levelly at her mother. “I trust them, Mum. I trust Allan. And besides, the sheriff’s lackey waltzed in here today. It could’ve been me he took to Nottingham, instead of Elaine. How is that any safer?”
“I could forbid you to see him.”
“You could. I’d still see him.”
“Kate, you’re too old to be acting this way,” Rebecca frowned.
“I’m too old to be treated this way.”
They stared at each other in frustration, at a stalemate.
“Please, don’t talk to that boy anymore,” Rebecca whispered.
“He’s not a boy,” said Kate softly. “And I’m not a girl. I’m a woman, and I’m going on a picnic with a man I fancy tomorrow.”
Without another word, Rebecca whirled around, storming back to the house.
Kate looked down at the pot in her hand. She had smudged the flower design. But rather than tossing it aside, she turned the smudge into a highlight, and then added the effect around the rest of the piece.
Her mother would come around. She had to.
Hadn’t she?
next chapter
master list of chapter links