Lost & Found~Chapter 13~A Guy/Allan Fan Fic Rated NC-17
Lost & Found~Chapter 13~A Guy/Allan Fan Fic Rated NC-17
In our last installment, Minerva dreamed of someone from her past named Adam; Guy and Allan had a very sweet and sexy morning interlude; Prince John and Jasper mulled over how to solve the problem of a nymphomaniacal noble named Lady Alona as they traveled to Nottingham; Vasey seethed with jealousy over the prince’s obvious affection for all things Allan and Guy; Guy and Allan enjoy sexy time in Guy’s bedchamber at the castle and Vasey can’t keep his mind of his beautiful but treacherous master at arms . . .
We pick up with Vasey having a chin wag with one of his unfortunate birdies.
No copyright infringement intended; I earn no money from this writing. Minerva, however, is all mine. Rated NC-17 for implied slash and sexually suggestive situations, bird torture, and princely lusting over magnificent baps. It’s a long chappie, to be followed shortly (as in I’m writing it now) by a shorter and very, very sexy Chapter 14. Thanks to LadyMuse for her encouragement and inspiration!
He’d seen them together. Entwined, all that naked, sun-kissed flesh and rippling muscles and tumbled locks of glossy hair. Guy. His Guy. And that boy. All trussed up with manacles and a gag.
Fucking.
And they were plainly enjoying it.
His eyes widened, his throat, constricted; his heart pounded so fiercely, he thought it would beat right out of his chest.
~Allan and Guy. No. It can’t be~
Still getting his head around the very notion, he had sought the comfort of his dear feathered friends.
Vasey stroked the blue bird perched upon his finger. “I must tell you, my precious. Guy is such a difficult fellow to ignore,” he murmured softly.
“That tall, gawky, shy boy grew into an undeniably beautiful and desirable man - oh yes, he did.”
Vasey narrowed his eyes.
”I could never understand Guy’s passion for that sneaky little over-the-hill leper.”
He smirked. “But then, I could never understand quite why the stupid creature chose that annoying, do-gooder runt Robin over Guy. Hoodie has a certain boyish charm - but he could pass for a peasant, my precious.”
He gave a wistful sigh.
“Guy -Guy has the makings of a prince.”
His lips curled into a lustful smile. “A very delectable prince.”
Vasey shook his head slowly.
“Oh, oh, how I would have loved to take such a pretty creature . . . but I couldn’t risk it. Guy was so strong, you see - so quick-tempered . . .” Vasey’s eyes darkened.
“There was a certain - stillness - the boy took on, a frigid quality that entered those extraordinary eyes when I touched him a little too intimately. Oh, I wasn’t afraid of him, of course - I just thought I should be - prudent, my precious.”
The bird cocked his head, his bright black eyes taking in every word, it seemed. Vasey gave a death’s-head grin as he mirrored the bird’s movement.
“And then it came to me. I’d have a spy-hole installed. So I could watch my lovely boy.” He chuckled. “The labourer who had done the work was speedily executed on some trumped-up charges, of course.” He playfully wagged his finger.
“I didn’t want any busy tongues to spoil my fun, you see.”
Vasey closed his eyes, and gave a deep sigh. “Watching Guy strip off his black leather at the end of long day to reveal that firm flesh, oh, oh! To feast my eyes upon that broad chest, those long, muscular thighs and his tempting arse. Not to mention that amazingly robust-looking cock of his. Quite the delicious show.”
Vasey’s smile turned to a pout.
“Oh, I did miss it when he moved to Locksley; missed all that naked masculine beauty so close to me . . .” He gave a sibilant hiss and tightened his grip on the little bird.
“So close and yet I could not touch him. I who gave him everything.” Vasey’s visage turned a deep purplish-red as he muttered through clenched teeth.
~The truth cannot be denied any longer. The awful, unforgivable betrayal of it all~
“And now he is here - in my own castle - here with that jumped-up peasant boy and they are fucking - fucking - fucking each other!” Vasey’s voice rose as he clutched the unfortunate bird to his silk-robed chest and crushed the life from it.
Spittle ran from the corner of his mouth; his dark eyes bulged with a cold fury.
And then he smiled. A chilly, calculating smile.
“We’ll see just how wonderful Prince John thinks these boys are when he finds out Allan is Guy’s little bum boy . . .”
A mirthless laugh. “We’ll certainly see . . .”
*~*~*~*
Guy was propped on one elbow, watching Allan as he slept.
~I should probably wake the rascal and send him on his way for safety’s sake, but I don’t have the heart. Let him rest~
Their lovemaking had been so intense. Allan had been willing - had practically jumped at the chance, in fact - to be bound and gagged. At Guy’s mercy, in a sense.
~He’s always surprising me, that one. He trusts me so completely~
Lying there asleep, Allan looked quite young and innocent. Guy studied with affection the way Allan’s thick lashes brushed against his cheeks and the tempting softness of his mouth. He stretched out his fingers to ever so lightly caress his lover’s tumbled bronze curls.
~But he’s a grown man. One who knows what he wants - and who he wants. And he wants me~
Guy gave a small sigh. Allan made him so happy, and that still scared him a little.
He wasn’t exactly accustomed to happiness; to that comfort of belonging, of loving and being loved in return.
But he knew, now that he had tasted real happiness, he would fight tooth and nail to keep it.
~Allan, Minerva, Zeus. They are all worth it. Even though it may require a bit of arse-kissing of Prince John along the way - figuratively speaking, of course~
A sly smile tugged at the corner of Guy’s mouth.
~I’ll stick with kissing young Allan’s~
Guy’s own eyelids were growing heavy. Smothering a yawn, he eased back onto the bed.
Sliding one hand under his pillow, Guy closed his eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
*~*~*~*
After three dead birds, a few luckless servants with sore shins and noggins and an all-too- brief amount of sleep, Vasey looked rather the worse for wear the next morning as he stalked into the great hall of the castle to break the fast.
Just as the sheriff pulled out his throne-like chair, Prince John appeared, all dazzling hair and teeth and garments, with Jasper a few steps behind him and as immaculately turned out as ever.
“Good morning, good morning, all,” the prince drawled with a winning smile. “Ah, thank you, Vasey,” he said with an airy wave of his bejeweled hand, as he sprawled gracefully in the head chair. “We are quite famished this morning. Hope you’ve got a lovely spread for us.”
Jasper smirked as he sat down to the prince’s right.
~Oh, you hate this, don’t you, Vasey? ~
Vasey bowed and gave one of those smiles that didn’t reach his dark eyes.
“But of course. Anything that you require, Sire.”
He barked commands to the servants, who scurried to bring bread, honey, butter, fruit and ale to the guests.
“You look rather - tired - this morning, Vasey. Didn’t get enough beauty sleep?” Jasper murmured with a raised brow as he sipped his ale.
~Frankly, you could sleep for forty days and nights and it wouldn’t beautify that face~
Vasey bared his teeth in Jasper’s general direction and rubbed his hands together.
~you pompous, prancing windbag~
“Ah, simply agog with eager anticipation about tonight’s banquet. I could hardly rest for thinking of it. I want to ensure everything goes perfectly for you, my dear Prince John,” Vasey purred as he bowed his head to the prince.
“And for the delightful Allan and Sir Guy as well.” The prince grinned and playfully wagged his finger at the sheriff, but there was a warning look in his brown-gold eyes Vasey could not fail to detect.
“Oh, yes. I believe the prince expects only the best for two of his most loyal supporters,” Jasper chimed in. “I’m sure you won’t let Prince John down, hey, Vasey?”
Vasey gritted his teeth. “Rest assured. I won’t fail you.”
Prince John furrowed his handsome brow. “Where are those two adorable boys?”
The clink of spurs sounded in their ears as a velvet voice rumbled.
“Pardon us, Sire, we were up rather late discussing plans for today and - we both overslept. Allan will be here directly. Please forgive our tardiness.” Guy made an elegant bow and flicked back his lustrous mane of raven hair.
Jasper gave a little sigh. ~I’d kill for that hair~
The prince smiled. ~Gorgeous cheekbones. Rather like mine~
Vasey seethed. ~Hell’s bells, how can he look so fucking GOOD? ~
“Mornin,’everyone.” Allan sauntered in. “You’re lookin’ very well, Sire,” he said with a cheeky grin and a deep bow.
Prince John beamed. ~Such earthy charm. And the hair. So like mine~
Vasey raised a brow. “You’re looking very - chipper -this morning, Allan. In spite of staying up so late discussing plans with Gisborne . . .”
Allan shrugged as he slid into his seat. “Well, you know, milord, it’s very important to be prepared.”
A small smile tugged at Guy’s mouth. “And I can attest that young Allan is always prepared.” His teasing eyes met Allan’s over the rim of his cup.
Allan gave a little nod and grinned.
“Why thank you, Sir Guy. I try my best.”
The prince daubed at his lips with a serviette, and gave a little sigh.
“What a pleasure to know I’ll be in such good hands for this great adventure . . .”
Vasey smiled sourly. “Oh, yes, these two are awfully good with their hands,” he sneered.
Guy smacked his lips as he quaffed his ale. He gave Vasey a maddeningly serene smile.
~I’d love to wrap these hands around that miserable neck of yours, Vasey. But your time is coming~
Jasper, watching Vasey’s fingers absently tear his bread into miniscule crumbs, narrowed his eyes.
~The troll really does have a bee in his bonnet over ‘these two’ . . . I wonder if there is more to the story? Interesting~
Guy bit into a ripe strawberry, his pink tongue darting out to catch the juice on his lower lip. He puckered his delicate lips as he chewed, Adam’s apple bobbing in his long column of throat as he swallowed.
Allan could feel a fatuous grin spreading across his face and quickly cupped his mouth with his hand as he “coughed.”
~There’s just something about watchin’ Guy eat~
Vasey was also watching Guy, Jasper noticed. The sheriff was biting his lip, hooded eyes following Guy’s every movement. He had stopped destroying his bread; now his hands were in such tight balls his knuckles had turned white.
Jasper raised a thoughtful brow.
~Well, well. Sherry is jealous and in more ways than one, I suspect. I’m thinking dear old Vasey is actually rather smitten with Sir Guy~
He smirked as he bit into his buttered bread.
~ And I am quite sure those feelings are not reciprocated. Well, well, well. This is going to be an interesting visit indeed~
*~*~*~*
Prince John had decided he needed to meet the “fascinating” Minerva in her natural habitat; Guy and Allan needed to retrieve all their outlaw costumes and weapons.
“Jasper, you can stay here with Vasey and catch up on old times,” the prince announced.
Jasper gritted his teeth. “Lovely.”
~Ah well, perhaps I can find out a bit more of this mystery. Anything to paint the vile Vasey in a bad light~
Vasey gave another one of his patently false smiles and bowed his head. “Whatever you wish, Sire.”
~I have to keep this affected arsehole happy to keep the prince happy - oh, bother~
The prince clapped his hands together. “Capital! We shall all have a delightful day.”
And so, following their morning meal, Guy and Allan mounted their horses and rode to Locksley, the prince following in his royal carriage.
“Well, Minerva knows she is invited to the banquet, but - what’ll she think when we spring the prince on her at Locksley Manor?” Allan queried.
Guy gave him a wry smile. “Somehow, Allan, I have no doubt our Minerva can handle whatever situation she finds herself thrust into.”
Allan nodded. “Yeah, I reckon you’re right. She’ll probably have him eating out of her wrinkled little paw before you know it.”
Guy gave him a sidelong glance. “She’s certainly managed to train US very well,” he rumbled.
Allan grinned. “Too bloody right.”
Guy took a deep breath. “Allan-”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
Allan raised his brows. “For whot?”
Guy shot him an almost shy smile. “For - everything, I suppose.”
Allan shrugged and thought for a minute. “Yeah, well - thanks for not killin’ me even though there were times you really wanted to. I appreciate it.”
Guy burst into laughter as Allan goggled. “Hey, I’m not bein’ funny, Giz. You gotta be grateful in life, you know . . .”
Guy sobered. “I - guess I just haven’t always felt I had a lot to be grateful for in life.” Guy gave Allan one of those sweet smiles that always melted his heart just a little.
“And now I do.”
Allan nodded. “Me too, Giz. Me, too.”
As they arrived at Locksley Manor, a familiar small figure and furry companion appeared in the doorway.
“Zeus, the boys are back - and it looks like they brought company . . .” Her black eyes widened. “I do believe that’s a royal coach - oh my.”
Minerva’s small hands brushed some flyaway grey strands into place and smoothed her apron. “Heavens, Zeus. It looks like we’d best be behavin’ ourselves.” Zeus cocked his head and gave a sharp little bark.
“I know, you’re a good fella, just don’t decide to do your business on the prince’s boots or some such nonsense.”
“Did you miss us last night, Minerva?” Allan asked with a wink as he dismounted Hera.
“Of course I did. But I hope you’ve been havin’ a grand time.”
Guy swung down from Apollo with a fond smile for Minerva.
“As you can see, Minerva, we’ve brought a visitor along. He’s most anxious to meet you.”
The footman put the carriage steps into place and the door was flung open.
Out stepped a beaming Prince John. “Hullo, hullo!” He struck an elegant pose with bejeweled hand on hips, every wavy bronze lock perfectly in place.
Minerva thought she’d seen many a maiden who was not as pretty as the prince.
~ He knows it, o’ course, vain peacock that he is, but ‘tis a pleasure to lay these old eyes on such a splendid-lookin’ creature~
The prince cocked his handsome head as he laid his tawny gaze on the housekeeper. “And this must be the divine Minerva - goddess of wisdom, I do believe?”
Minerva dropped a deep curtsy, her lips curling into an elfin smile. “Not of wisdom or beauty, I fear - just plain ol’ common sense, that’s me, Sire.”
The prince took her hand and smiled. “Ah, you do yourself a disservice, my dear girl.
Guy and Allan have sung your highest praises.” He clasped her hand in his.
Minerva’s time-worn cheeks flushed every so slightly.
Allan and Guy exchanged affectionate glances. Prince John seemed to be working his charms on Minerva quite effectively.
“Now I shall be your devoted admirer as well,” the prince said, raising her hand to his mouth for a gallant kiss.
Minerva’s flush deepened.
“I feel like a mere slip of a thing with such sweet words. It’s a shame you couldn’t see me when I was young. I think you would have really liked me then, Sire,” she said with a decided nod and distinct twinkle in her dark eyes.
Prince John threw back his head and laughed merrily. “Oh, you adorable girl! I am quite sure I would have . . .”
Allan grinned. “I think we’d have all been head over heels for our Minerva.” He gave her a wink. “I’m pretty smitten with her, anyway.”
Guy’s lips curved into a mischievous smile. “Don’t forget, Allan - I saw her first,” he rumbled.
Minerva shook her grizzled head. “What a lot of silver-tongued devils I’ve got here. Well, the more, the merrier, I suppose, eh, Zeus?”
“Zeus.” Guy rumbled. “Do not forget your manners.”
The mastiff puppy raised a front paw and gazed up at the prince with soulful eyes.
The prince chuckled. “Ah, what a handsome fellow! Pleased to make your acquaintance, Zeus,” Prince John leaned over and shook the puppy’s paw with great seriousness.
A smile tugged at Guy’s lips. ~Those obedience lessons are paying off~
Minerva put her hands on her hips. “Well - enough o’ the pleasantries. Let’s get in out o’ this heat. There’s some ale and a comfortable seat inside - and may I say, welcome to Locksley, Prince John.”
The prince bestowed another beaming smile on Minerva. “Ah, I love it already. Lead the way, my dear Minerva. . .”
*~*~*~*
“Oh, yes, just the thing. Perfectly earthy and chock full of stench.” The prince, to his evident delight, was being introduced to Much’s disreputable old clothes.
Allan scratched his head and shot an amused look at Guy. “Not sure Much would appreciate your description, Sire, but yeah - they are certainly smelly and uhm - earthy.”
Guy smiled. “They will provide the authenticity for your role, Sire - which I have no doubt you will play with great energy and finesse.”
~ I am piling it on, but this vain peacock will eat it up~
The preening prince smoothed the lock of shining red-brown hair that waved across his brow and gave a dramatic sigh.
“I’ve always thought I would make quite a fine actor - if I hadn’t been destined to be king of England, of course,” Prince John drawled.
He furrowed his handsome brow slightly.
“If only I didn’t have the inconvenience of my brother Dickie to deal with.”
He gave another wistful sigh and waved his hand. “Such are the trials those of us who are born to reign must endure.”
“Indeed, Sire,” Guy said smoothly with an incline of his dark head.
“It is so lovely to have such loyal and understanding subjects as you . . . what fun we are going to have together,” Prince John said with a beaming smile as he clapped them both on the shoulder.
Allan’s lively blue eyes met Guy’s.
~Jesu, Allan, may our good luck continue~
~We’ll either be celebratin’ - or discoverin’ what if feels like to lose your head, Giz~
*~*~*~*
A bit of fighting was in order. Practice combat would not only keep Allan and Guy’s skills sharp. It would also make the prince truly feel like “one of the gang,” they reasoned.
On seeing Allan and Guy doff their clothing, Prince John had followed suit. Stripping off his finely-spun snowy white linen shirt and long, elegantly-embroidered bronze tunic, he revealed an admirably lean and taut torso.
Minerva, one who didn’t believe in passing up such golden opportunities, watched them from the window with a smile.
~Who knew little ol’Minerva would get to watch three lovely half-naked men - and one of them a prince, no less - right at her back door?~
“I’m feelin’ quite lucky these days, Zeus,” she confided to the pup.
The prince flexed his muscles, rolled his neck and began to caper around the courtyard, gleefully brandishing the broadsword they had supplied to him.
“Ah, the joys of physical activity. The sun beating down on one’s bare flesh, working up a warm glow, the thrill of combat . . . delightful,” he crowed, teeth and sword flashing in the sunlight.
Guy smiled and inclined his head. “Indeed, Sire. We quite agree,” he purred.
He cut his eyes toward Allan, who stood by his side. “Let’s just make sure he comes out smelling like a rose,” Guy murmured.
“No worries, Giz. I don’t fancy gettin’ this handsome neck of mine stretched,” Allan whispered back with a wink. “At least he looks well-fit.”
Guy couldn’t resist. “As well-fit as I am?”
Allan swiftly gave Guy’s lightly-tanned torso with its tempting raspberry-tinted nipples and ridged abdomen a once-over. He shook his head, smirking. “Nah, you’re the prince of that, Giz . . . and I should know.”
Guy shot him a quick and roguish grin before raising his voice. “We have Much’s famous shield for you to use, as well, Sire. Shall we begin?”
“Indeed, Sir Guy. Into the fray!” Prince John exulted.
The prince, armed with sword and “Much’s celebrated shield,” Guy, flourishing his massive quarter-staff and Allan, brandishing his own blade, were soon in a set-to.
Dust flew from the dance of booted feet as the trio parried, thrust, blocked, spun and swung.
Sweat streamed down their half-naked bodies; damp locks were tossed back as they grunted, sighed, and panted for breath.
The prince, striking Allan’s sword from his hand, had the former outlaw at the point of his blade. “What ho! Kneel before the brave outlaw Much, you blackguard . . .”
Allan bowed his head and dropped to his knees, arms outstretched. “You’ve beaten me, brave Much. I surrender.” He raised his earnest blue eyes in a beseeching gaze.
Guy laid down his quarter-staff and clapped. “Well done, Sire. Well done, indeed.”
The prince beamed at them both. “I was rather good, wasn’t I?”
Guy smiled. “Indeed you were,” he said in silken tones.
~Now if we can just keep you in line and without a scratch~
Guy glanced down at Allan, still on his knees, the rivulets of sweat pouring down his lover’s muscular chest; shapely mouth open, gasping for breath, bronze curls damp and tousled.
He smirked.
~I’m rather looking forward to getting past all this to a bit of celebrating with young Allan~
Allan glanced up at Guy; saw the smoulder in those azure eyes, the pink tongue flicking his delicately-shaped lips. He gave a deep inward groan.
~I so want to fuck Guy right about now. Oh, tonight can’t get here soon enough~
The prince gave a rapturous sigh.
~It is so jolly to have fellows like Allan and Guy to have a bit of fun with. Not boring at all~
*~*~*~*
“You look every inch the proper mucky outlaw, Sire,” Allan announced with an admiring grin.
Prince John had shed all his royal garments and slipped into Much’s cast-offs.
The shapeless drab jumper and tattered vest, well-worn trousers and shabby boots gave him a distinctly raffish air.
Guy nodded his approval. “There is one more thing you will need to complete your ensemble-” He held up Much’s sad-looking little cap.
The prince frowned. “The brave and valiant Much wears - that?”
Allan and Guy nodded soberly. “Oh, yes, Much always considered that it brought him good luck. He wore it in the Holy Land,” Allan explained.
Prince John narrowed his eyes as he stroked his goatee. “We-e-e-ll, I suppose . . .” He suddenly flashed a grin. “I DO want to play the part properly, after all.”
Guy smiled and inclined his head. “That’s the spirit, Sire.”
Allan placed the cap over Prince John’s shining auburn waves, tucking the stray locks under the cloth.
Hands on hips, Allan stepped back to survey his handiwork and grinned. “Better and better.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Guy’s mouth. The prince DID look amazingly Much-like.
“We are going to have to dirty you up just a bit more, Sire - for authenticity’s sake, of course,” Guy said with the raise of an elegant brow.
“Ah, yes, of course. A bit of forest filth would be required, I suppose.” Prince John nodded sagely.
“Yep. Don’t get regular baths out in the ol’forest. Our Much ends up a bit filthy as well as fussy,” Allan said.
The prince raised his brows. “Fussy as in-?”
“Rather - affected. Overly dramatic at times. Bit of a silly goose,” Allan said. Guy shot him a dark look.
“A very brave and valiant silly goose, o’ course,” Allan added quickly.
“Fascinating,” the prince breathed. “Such a challenge - but I shall gladly accept it.” He puffed out his chest as he stretched out his hands. “And triumph.”
Guy smiled and inclined his raven head. “We would expect no less, Sire . . .”
Allan grinned. “Too right.”
*~*~*~*
Guy needed to give Allan a heartfelt apology.
He had complained about the younger man talking too much in their early days together.
Compared to an excited Prince John, Allan was like a bloody monk who had taken a vow of silence, Guy thought.
“So, will these people be very, very wealthy, do you suppose? What a delight it would be to return to Nottingham with buckets of money and jewels . . . I can just imagine the expressions on Vasey and Sir Jasper’s faces when we sweep in with our bounty, oh - what fun!” the prince crowed merrily as the trio cantered along on horseback to a neighboring shire.
“My sources assure me we should make quite a haul, Sire,” Allan replied.
“And Allan’s sources never seem to be wrong, I must say,” Guy drawled.
~Damned if I know who these sources are, but let Allan have his secrets~
“Ah, but of course. I am sure I can count the marvelous Allan and Sir Guy to make it a worthwhile enterprise,” Prince John said, his smile beaming beneath Much’s rather ridiculous cap. “How exciting this will be!” He gave a happy sigh as he wriggled in the saddle.
“We will certainly do our best, Sire,” Allan said, biting back a chuckle.
~Methinks our poncy prince and our prissy peasant are a lot more alike than they could ever imagine~
*~*~*~*
“When will they arrive? Oh, this is going to be such a grand lark!”
The three men had tethered their horses in the forest and were now hiding behind a clump of bushes near the main road. “Much” was clearly champing at the bit, his tawny eyes gleaming with excitement.
Guy and Allan exchanged bemused glances.
“You will have to be very quiet and still, Sire. We don’t want to give away our presence too soon to our prey, now, do we?” Guy whispered in his most beguiling silken tones as he tilted his salt-and-pepper streaked head beneath the hood of his brown cloak.
The prince gave a small sigh. “Of course you are correct, Sir Guy. Oh, I am as giddy as a child on his feast day, I suppose.” He examined his uncharacteristically dirty fingernails.
“Been so bored of late, until you two came along.”
Prince John’s face brightened. “It is all so terribly exciting . . .”
Allan gave him a comradely pat on the shoulder. “You’ve got to remember to keep a cool head and watchful eye when you’re an outlaw, yeah?” Allan’s blue eyes narrowed, and he pushed back his hood to lean down and put his ear to the ground.
“What?! What?” Prince John’s eyes grew wide as he hissed a stage whisper.
Guy gave him a sharp warning look, softened by a smile. “Sh-h-h,” the knight said, tapping a long, elegant finger to his mouth.
“They’re comin’,” Allan breathed.
“I’ll take the lead. Sire, you stick with Sir Little John, there, yeah, just like we planned, right?”
Hoof beats pounded closer and closer. The prince was all a-quiver.
The blood seemed to roar in his royal ears.
~They call Dickie the Lion-Hearted. Piffle. Wait until they hear of my exploits! ~
Allan tugged his hood back over his head. Bow and arrow in hand, he prepared to step out to halt the approaching coach.
Suddenly a blur of brown shot by him and a high-pitched voice sounded: “We are Robin Hood’s famed outlaws. Surrender now!!”
Allan goggled. Guy groaned. The prince was standing in the middle of the road, the coach bearing down on him as he gazed at it, transfixed, mouth gaping open, sword held high and shield before his chest.
The coach did not slow down. Prince John gave a petulant stamp of his foot.
“You are supposed to stop. I order you-”
A pair of long, muscular arms snatched the prince out of harm’s way as Allan deftly shot an arrow into the hat worn by the coach’s driver. The startled man yanked the reins hard and brought the coach to an abrupt halt a few yards past where the prince had been standing.
Guy had pulled the prince back behind the bush. One big hand was clamped securely over the prince’s mouth, with his other arm firmly wrapped around the royal torso.
~Jesu, this prince is almost as fucking annoying at times as Hood was a child. Patience, Guy - patience~
Prince John cut his eyes and gave a much wounded look at his captor. This was not how the game was meant to be played, surely?
Guy shrugged apologetically. “Pardon, Sire - but they were about to run you down. I don’t think your death was part of the adventure you were hoping for . . .”
Allan heaved a sigh of relief the prince was still in one (untrampled) piece.
“Bloody hell,” he murmured under his breath and shook his head.
Affixing a properly cocky Robin-like smirk on his face, he quickly strutted to the side of the coach, a second arrow ready to fly. “Good day to you. I’m Robin Hood - and the pleasure is all yours.”
Allan grinned. “My faithful friend Much will now assist me in relievin’ you of all your valuables while Little John makes sure no one gets any ideas about playin’ hero . . .”
“You’ll do as Allan says now, eh, ‘Much?’” Guy, the prince still tight in his grip, breathed softly in his ear.
Prince John gulped and nodded (~how strong and - masculine! - Sir Guy is~).
“Good,” Guy rumbled approvingly, and released him with an encouraging pat on his back.
The prince cleared his throat, straightened his garments, threw the bag Guy handed him over his shoulder and sashayed over to Allan’s side.
A pair of ladies graced the interior of the coach: a well-upholstered dark-haired lady and her slender fair-haired maid, to be exact.
“Ah, the infamous Robin Hood, come to take all our precious treasure, Alice,” the lady said with evident pleasure, her mischievous dark brown eyes sparkling in a round and pretty face.
“Oh, dear . . . I suppose this means we’re going to be ravished, Lady Geraldine,” Alice whined with a deadpan expression, sprawling her limbs out across the seat.
“My mother always warned me about ruffians like this.”
Lady Geraldine gave “Hood” and “Much” a careful once-over. “Hmmmmm. That might not be such a terrible fate. They’re a bit dirty but I suspect they wash up quite nicely, Alice.”
Allan raised his brows in amusement. “That we do, milady, but you needn’t fear - we only want your money and jewels, not your virtue.”
Lady Geraldine gave a languorous sigh, her impressive bosom heaving beneath her sapphire blue gown. Prince John could not tear his eyes away from the rise and fall of those bountiful milky white baps. He licked his lips.
~Oh, why did Hoodie have to be such a goodie-goodie? Diving into that could be spectacularly entertaining~
“Pity,” Lady Geraldine said with a shake of her glossy dark head. “A bit of the rough now and again is rather refreshing, I find.”
“Oh -you adorable girl,” the prince blurted out. Allan bit his lip to keep from laughing.
Guy had a sudden need to clear his throat as he maintained his menacing gaze at the driver.
~Well, it hasn’t been a dull raid, that’s for sure~
“I mean - dear lady - will you please surrender your gems?” Prince John added with a rather fatuous grin, remembering to flourish his sword.
“Uhmmm,” Lady Geraldine cocked her head. “That’s a most impressive sword you have - or are you just happy to see me - pardon, but what is your name?” She purred as she batted her lashes at the “outlaw.” Allan smirked. The prince beamed.
“My name is - Much, dearest lady,” Prince John breathed. He thought he just might be in love.
“I’m Lady Geraldine of Dibley - but you can call me Gerri.” She smiled as she started to unclasp the heavy pendant around her neck.
“Let me get that for you, milady,” Alice murmured.
“Ah, darling Gerri - allow me,” the prince exclaimed, dropping his sword and shield. Remembering his orders, he shot a quick, beseeching glance at “Robin.”
Allan’s mouth twitched.
“Oh - why not, Much. Be a mannerly outlaw, by all means,” he drawled.
Gerri gave the two outlaws a saucy smile. “Why don’t I slip it around so you can unclasp it from the front,” she cooed as she slid the clasp around to nestle squarely between the cleft of her magnificent breasts.
The prince’s eyes widened. “Lovely . . .” He sighed as he took the clasp in his hands, brushing his fingertips against the satiny smoothness of Gerri’s bare skin.
“Ooh - that tickles,” she murmured, leaning over a little further to give the outlaws an even better glimpse of her considerable assets.
Allan gave a low whistle. ~If I weren’t head over heels for Guy, I wouldn’t mind divin’ into a bit o’ that myself~
“I suppose you’ll be wanting all my treasures, then,” she cooed. She beckoned “Much” closer with a plump bejeweled finger. “Alice has more of my precious things tucked away in - shall we say - unmentionable places,” she whispered in his ear.
Prince John raised his handsome head and looked at the rather rabbity Alice. She gave him a huge grin and waggled her fingers at him. Closing her eyes, she hitched up her skirts, flopped her arms and legs out wide and gave a dramatic whine.
“Go ahead and do your worst, you ruffians, but harm not my mistress.” She opened one eye and gave a large wink, before closing it again.
The prince gulped.
~That one has a most lean and hungry look about her. A bit - frightening~
Guy’s voice rumbled from the front of the coach.
“L-a-a-hds, we’d better get a m-o-o-ve on.”
“Righto, Little John. Alas - we must be on our way shortly,” Allan interjected.
“Alice, could you please - turn away and remove any valuables, and pass them to us?”
The maid’s mouth turned down. “Well, if you must be like that,” she said in a grievous tone. Alice flounced as she turned her back and began plundering for the precious gems and coins secreted on her person.
Allan smiled at Gerri. “We’ll also be wanting the rest of those lovely jewels on your fingers and wrists, milady.”
“Uhm, yes, that’s right - the rest of your jewels. So that we can care for the great unwashed of the land,” the prince said, nodding as he babbled. Allan rolled his eyes.
Gerri grinned. “Better wash yourself, too, while you’re at it.” She slipped off her rings and bracelets and placed them in the prince’s outstretched hand with a broad wink.
An affronted sigh sounded next to her. “Here,” Alice huffed, handing a drawstring bag bulging with coins along with several jewelry items laden with precious gems to her mistress.
Prince John’s golden brown eyes lit up. “Gadzooks, that’s a small fortune you have there!”
Gerri’s lips curled into a devilish smile. “Oh, there is nothing small about my fortune . . .”
The prince gave a blissful sigh.
~What an adorable girl~
“A-lahn. Much.” Guy sounded more than a tad impatient.
“Thank you, Lady Geraldine, Alice - we must be going now. Fare thee well,” Allan said with a cheeky grin. “Come along, Much.”
Prince John cast one last, longing glance at Lady Geraldine’s bountiful baps and nodded a little sadly.
“Adieu, dear ladies. The brave and valiant Much will never forget you . . .”
Guy snarled at the driver as the two men came to join him. “Doohn’t even think about m-o-o-vin’ until yoo’ve counted to one hoondred,” he growled, waving his quarterstaff before darting into the forest with his partners in crime.
As they rode away, a faint but merry cry wafted through the trees: “Lovely to be taken by you, Robin and Much . . . toodle-loo!”
The prince beamed. “She’ll never forget this day, I’ll wager.”
Guy smirked. “Neither will we, Sire,” he said dryly.
*~*~*~*
There was one more raid on their agenda for the day - a short and snarky fat, balding fellow whom the prince later referred to, while sniffing loudly, as “a grotesque cross between Vasey and a wild pig.” He proved, however, quite a wealthy pig, which cheered Prince John considerably.
The trio returned to Nottinghamshire with a considerable amount of loot and one blessedly intact and blissfully happy prince.
“Oh, my dear fellows, what a time of it we’ve had . . . and what a delightful night ahead of us,” he warbled happily.
Guy cut his eyes at Allan. “I have worked up a bit of an appetite, Sire,” he rumbled.
~And I think young Allan will definitely be on my menu~
The prince nodded. “As have I, dear Sir Guy - as have I. We shall certainly eat, drink and be very merry . . .”
Allan chuckled. “I’ll drink to that, Sire,” he said, flashing a knowing grin at Guy.
~And maybe - if I get lucky - I’ll lick some of Vasey’s best wine right off the delectable Sir Guy~
“I do wonder what Jasper and Vasey have been up to all day? I can hardly wait to fill them in on all the details of our daring exploits together,” the prince said with another happy sigh.
Allan shrugged. “Let’s hope they haven’t killed each other yet. That would sort of spoil the whole night.”
A peal of laughter sounded. “Oh, you adorable boy, you. So droll and delightfully earthy . . .”
Guy’s lips twitched. “Oh, yes. Our Allan can be very entertaining.”
~ And most accommodating. Honey, handcuffs, waterfalls . . . ~
Guy exhaled.
“Yes, tonight’s going to be a good, good night, I do believe,” the dark knight rumbled.
“I can hardly wait.” A rather predatory smile spread across his handsome face.
~Sir Guy wants to play with his lovely Allan~
*~*~*~*
Sir Jasper had begged off spending the day with Vasey. “I know you shall be quite busy making sure every detail for tonight is perfect - and I shouldn’t wish to be in your way,” he announced.
“I think I’ll have a look around dear old Nottingham - see how the simple folks live.”
Vasey had given him a decidedly false smile. “Oh, yes - tonight. Mustn’t let anything stand in the way of a glorious banquet for our prince.”
Jasper held up a gloved finger. “AND Sir Guy and Allan - don’t forget. His particular friends and the guests of honour.”
Vasey’s face took on the look of a man who had swallowed something very bitter.
“Oh, don’t worry. I could never forget those two.”
~And I can hardly wait to let the prince know just what they’ve been up to~
*~*~*~*
Jasper, as it turns out, was quite busy, too, that day. A few coins slipped to a shy and mousy little maid proved fruitful.
Had she seen anything out of the ordinary?
She had, in fact.
Armed with her words, Jasper decided to pay a visit to Locksley Manor for a chin wag with Sir Guy’s housekeeper.
By the time he had returned to Nottingham Castle, the prince’s right-hand man was feeling very pleased with himself. And quite ready for the games - so to speak - to begin.
*~*~*~*~*
“It was a glorious, glorious day,” Prince John crowed as he took his seat at the head banquet table that evening. Resplendent once more in cloth of gold richly embroidered in red, he spread out his hands, his many rings catching fire in the torch and candlelight.
Guy and Allan were seated to his right. Allan’s blue silk tunic enhanced the shade of his lovely eyes, just as Minerva had hoped; Guy looked every inch a lord in his black satin doublet, heavily shot through with silver thread.
Minerva fairly swelled with pride at the sight of her two lads. ~So handsome~
The housekeeper was, as Allan remarked, “lookin’ none too shabby herself” in a burgundy gown, her hair tidily braided and coiled into an elegant coronet, silver earrings set with blood-red rubies - a gift from Sir Guy - dangling from her small ears.
She had even rouged her lips and cheeks the tiniest bit and borrowed a smidgen of Sir Guy’s kohl for her eyes.
After all, Minerva had reasoned, how often would such opportunities arrive on her doorstep?
She sat to the prince’s left (“Ah, I am surrounded by my dearest friends from the good village of Locksley”), with Sir Jasper at her side.
Vasey had been relegated to a seat next to Jasper. Behind his pasted-on smile, the sheriff was seething.
~I’m the bloody sheriff around here and my own master at arms, his peasant bum boy and an ancient leper servant get precedence over ME? Outrageous. But I will have my revenge . . . oh, yes ~
The hall was filled with Nottinghamshire’s nobles; the trestle tables groaned from the weight of the food gracing them. The sound of musicians entertaining on the pipe and drum mixed with the chatter and laughter of guests.
Prince John stood. “Dear friends, dear friends,” his plummy voice rang out commandingly.
“We are exceedingly glad you could all gather with us on this divine summer’s evening, to join your prince regent in honouring two of our most loyal and enterprising subjects, two men who clearly love me-“
Smiling beneficently, he stepped behind Guy and Allan and placed his hands on their shoulders.
“I present to you Sir Guy of Gisborne and his faithful companion, Allan A Dale. Shall we all stand for a toast?”
The prince took his goblet in hand and raised it. “To Sir Guy and Allan - long may they live and serve their prince!”
The risen guests also lifted their cups in salute of the two men. Minerva leaned in to make eye contact with her “boys.”
“To my two bonny lads,” she said with a grin and a wink.
Vasey’s toast was singularly unenthusiastic.
“LAH-di-dah-dee-dah. I never got a great banquet in my honour,” he grumbled under his breath.
He felt a sharp jab in his ribs. Jasper was looking down his rather long nose at him, distinct amusement in his eyes.
“What’s the matter, Lord Vasey? You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself on this glorious occasion . . .”
Vasey bared his teeth. “On the contrary; I’m having a marvelous time . . .”
~Or I will be. Once I get the prince’s ear~
*~*~*~*
Allan tore into the pheasant with gusto, licking its succulent juices from his fingers. Guy watched over the rim of his goblet and felt the heat rise in his loins as he watched Allan’s soft, full lips wrap themselves around his nimble fingers.
~I have something I’d like for young Allan to suck on~
As he raised his goblet to his own lips, Guy’s free hand stole beneath the table to Allan’s thigh and caressed it, allowing his fingertips to trail lightly over Allan’s crotch.
Allan gave a little jump. Guy chuckled under his breath and quaffed the wine, smacking his lips with evident pleasure.
“Enjoying yourself, young Allan?” He purred.
Allan felt himself harden as Guy cupped him, fondling him through the fabric of his trousers.
“Uhm, yes,” he said faintly, looking into Guy’s teasing blue eyes.
~God’s teeth, but I’d love to fuck Guy right now under this table. Everyone else be damned~
The master-at-arm’s lips curled into a devilish grin as if he could read Allan’s thoughts. “Patience, Allan. All the games must be played out . . .” Guy murmured silkily.
“Ah, this viaund ryal is positively to die for! I do so love a good quiche.” The prince daubed his lips with his serviette and gave a happy sigh.
“The food and wine are most wonderful. But something troubles me,” he said with a furrowed brow. Turning to Guy and Allan and leaning in toward them, Prince John spoke in a conspiratorial whisper.
“I sometimes think the sheriff does not truly love me.”
Guy tilted his glossy dark head. “And why do you say that, Sire?”
“Well- look at him! He was given a golden opportunity to present me with a great banquet in your honor - and here it is, and it is so lovely,” the prince murmured, waving his hands at the spread laid before him. “I mean, boar’s head and roasted peacock - redressed for the occasion! - and some really choice spiced wine . . . and yet, the sheriff looks completely miserable.”
Prince John folded his arms. “Ergo, I think the sheriff is not happy about making ME happy.” He gave a dramatic sigh. “Is that so much for me to ask?”
“Not in the least,” Guy said with an earnest look. He glanced at Allan, who nodded in agreement, adding, “He should be one o’ the happiest men on God’s green earth, Sire.”
~I’ve got no objection to gettin’ the troll in a bit o’ hot water~
Guy flicked back his raven mane, its reddish highlights shining in the candlelight, crinkling his own broad brow in thought as he carefully chose his words.
“I think, Sire, the problem may lie in the fact the sheriff is - lonely.”
The prince tented his fingers. “Pray, do continue, Sir Guy.”
Guy inclined his head. “You have the love of so many, Sire. And the sheriff-”
Guy paused and gave a sad shake of his head.
“He has no one.”
Prince John’s eyes grew wide. “But of course! I should have seen it sooner!”
He flashed them a triumphant smile. “Vasey needs a wife.”
Allan almost choked on a piece of peacock, requiring Guy’s broad hand to swat him on the back.
“Ah-uhm-that sounds like a - brilliant plan, Sire. Just the thing our Sherry needs,” Allan said, clearing his throat.
Guy smiled. “Of course, it would have to be the right sort of woman. Of noble birth, that goes without saying, and very . . .” Guy narrowed his eyes in thought.
“Affectionate.”
Allan nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. A very lovin’ sort of woman would do him a world o’ good, I’d wager.”
“A woman’s gentle touch on his arm, soft words whispered in his ear, tender kisses, many, many tender kisses . . .” Guy purred in his velvet tones, the prince hanging on his every word.
“Really? Somehow I never saw Vasey as liking that sort of attention.”
Guy tilted his head and gave the prince a confident smile. “I know Lord Vasey very well. Underneath that rather harsh surface lies a shy, sensitive soul who craves love and understanding - from the right sort of woman. A mature and experienced woman.”
This time Allan managed not to spit up his wine.
“Yeah, just the thing to bring out his warm and cuddly side,” he added with a deadpan expression.
The prince tapped his chin in thought. “You know, I believe I know just the perfect woman for our dear Vasey . . .” He grinned. “She is very -friendly.”
Guy quaffed more of the excellent wine. Smacking those shapely lips, he swallowed, that inviting Adam’s-apple bobbing in his long column of throat.
He gazed into the prince’s tawny eyes. “Pray tell me more, Sire . . .”
*~*~*~*~*
Vasey peered down the table and saw those three handsome heads close together, discussing - What? Who? - and inwardly seethed.
~I should be at his side, I should be sharing his confidences~
“Oh, if he only knew the truth,” the sheriff muttered under his breath.
“What’s that, Vasey?”
Jasper raised his brows quizzically.
“Nothing. I - I need to speak to the prince . . . now.” Vasey hissed through clenched teeth.
Jasper leaned in close. “Oh, now, I am the prince’s most trusted servant - you can surely share whatever is brimming over inside you with me.”
Vasey bit his lip, his hands balled in tight fists. “It’s about Guy and that - boy.” He spat the words.
Jasper wiped his chin of the stray spittle and forced a confiding smile on his face.
“Do tell . . .”
*~*~*~*
Guy had excused himself from the table. “Pardon me, Sire - all this wonderful wine requires me to answer a call of nature,” he said with a disarming smile. He shot a quick glance in Allan’s direction.
Moments after Guy strode out, Allan found himself in urgent need of answering the same call.
“Do pardon, Sire - All this rich food and wine is gettin’ to me,” Allan said with a cheeky grin.
Minerva winked at him. “Do behave yourself, young Allan.”
He shrugged. “Don’t I always, Minerva?”
As he slipped into the castle corridors, Allan looked to his left and right. “Guy?” He said softly.
“Surprise,” a silky voice growled low and Allan felt a pair of strong hands pull him into the darkness.
Warm lips pressed against Allan’s throat as arms wrapped tight around him.
“I - I thought you were answerin’ a call of nature, Guy.”
A chuckle. “Oh, I am, Allan - I am.”
Guy turned Allan to face him and pushed him against the wall, grinding his hardness against the younger man. Allan gave a little moan.
“And this is what nature is telling me to do . . .” A velvet hiss.
Guy hungrily claimed his mouth as Allan slid his fingers into Guy’s tousled raven mane and clutched it tightly.
~ Oh, Guy - this is risky business, but bloody hell it’s so good . . . ~
*~*~*~*
In our last installment, Minerva dreamed of someone from her past named Adam; Guy and Allan had a very sweet and sexy morning interlude; Prince John and Jasper mulled over how to solve the problem of a nymphomaniacal noble named Lady Alona as they traveled to Nottingham; Vasey seethed with jealousy over the prince’s obvious affection for all things Allan and Guy; Guy and Allan enjoy sexy time in Guy’s bedchamber at the castle and Vasey can’t keep his mind of his beautiful but treacherous master at arms . . .
We pick up with Vasey having a chin wag with one of his unfortunate birdies.
No copyright infringement intended; I earn no money from this writing. Minerva, however, is all mine. Rated NC-17 for implied slash and sexually suggestive situations, bird torture, and princely lusting over magnificent baps. It’s a long chappie, to be followed shortly (as in I’m writing it now) by a shorter and very, very sexy Chapter 14. Thanks to LadyMuse for her encouragement and inspiration!
He’d seen them together. Entwined, all that naked, sun-kissed flesh and rippling muscles and tumbled locks of glossy hair. Guy. His Guy. And that boy. All trussed up with manacles and a gag.
Fucking.
And they were plainly enjoying it.
His eyes widened, his throat, constricted; his heart pounded so fiercely, he thought it would beat right out of his chest.
~Allan and Guy. No. It can’t be~
Still getting his head around the very notion, he had sought the comfort of his dear feathered friends.
Vasey stroked the blue bird perched upon his finger. “I must tell you, my precious. Guy is such a difficult fellow to ignore,” he murmured softly.
“That tall, gawky, shy boy grew into an undeniably beautiful and desirable man - oh yes, he did.”
Vasey narrowed his eyes.
”I could never understand Guy’s passion for that sneaky little over-the-hill leper.”
He smirked. “But then, I could never understand quite why the stupid creature chose that annoying, do-gooder runt Robin over Guy. Hoodie has a certain boyish charm - but he could pass for a peasant, my precious.”
He gave a wistful sigh.
“Guy -Guy has the makings of a prince.”
His lips curled into a lustful smile. “A very delectable prince.”
Vasey shook his head slowly.
“Oh, oh, how I would have loved to take such a pretty creature . . . but I couldn’t risk it. Guy was so strong, you see - so quick-tempered . . .” Vasey’s eyes darkened.
“There was a certain - stillness - the boy took on, a frigid quality that entered those extraordinary eyes when I touched him a little too intimately. Oh, I wasn’t afraid of him, of course - I just thought I should be - prudent, my precious.”
The bird cocked his head, his bright black eyes taking in every word, it seemed. Vasey gave a death’s-head grin as he mirrored the bird’s movement.
“And then it came to me. I’d have a spy-hole installed. So I could watch my lovely boy.” He chuckled. “The labourer who had done the work was speedily executed on some trumped-up charges, of course.” He playfully wagged his finger.
“I didn’t want any busy tongues to spoil my fun, you see.”
Vasey closed his eyes, and gave a deep sigh. “Watching Guy strip off his black leather at the end of long day to reveal that firm flesh, oh, oh! To feast my eyes upon that broad chest, those long, muscular thighs and his tempting arse. Not to mention that amazingly robust-looking cock of his. Quite the delicious show.”
Vasey’s smile turned to a pout.
“Oh, I did miss it when he moved to Locksley; missed all that naked masculine beauty so close to me . . .” He gave a sibilant hiss and tightened his grip on the little bird.
“So close and yet I could not touch him. I who gave him everything.” Vasey’s visage turned a deep purplish-red as he muttered through clenched teeth.
~The truth cannot be denied any longer. The awful, unforgivable betrayal of it all~
“And now he is here - in my own castle - here with that jumped-up peasant boy and they are fucking - fucking - fucking each other!” Vasey’s voice rose as he clutched the unfortunate bird to his silk-robed chest and crushed the life from it.
Spittle ran from the corner of his mouth; his dark eyes bulged with a cold fury.
And then he smiled. A chilly, calculating smile.
“We’ll see just how wonderful Prince John thinks these boys are when he finds out Allan is Guy’s little bum boy . . .”
A mirthless laugh. “We’ll certainly see . . .”
*~*~*~*
Guy was propped on one elbow, watching Allan as he slept.
~I should probably wake the rascal and send him on his way for safety’s sake, but I don’t have the heart. Let him rest~
Their lovemaking had been so intense. Allan had been willing - had practically jumped at the chance, in fact - to be bound and gagged. At Guy’s mercy, in a sense.
~He’s always surprising me, that one. He trusts me so completely~
Lying there asleep, Allan looked quite young and innocent. Guy studied with affection the way Allan’s thick lashes brushed against his cheeks and the tempting softness of his mouth. He stretched out his fingers to ever so lightly caress his lover’s tumbled bronze curls.
~But he’s a grown man. One who knows what he wants - and who he wants. And he wants me~
Guy gave a small sigh. Allan made him so happy, and that still scared him a little.
He wasn’t exactly accustomed to happiness; to that comfort of belonging, of loving and being loved in return.
But he knew, now that he had tasted real happiness, he would fight tooth and nail to keep it.
~Allan, Minerva, Zeus. They are all worth it. Even though it may require a bit of arse-kissing of Prince John along the way - figuratively speaking, of course~
A sly smile tugged at the corner of Guy’s mouth.
~I’ll stick with kissing young Allan’s~
Guy’s own eyelids were growing heavy. Smothering a yawn, he eased back onto the bed.
Sliding one hand under his pillow, Guy closed his eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
*~*~*~*
After three dead birds, a few luckless servants with sore shins and noggins and an all-too- brief amount of sleep, Vasey looked rather the worse for wear the next morning as he stalked into the great hall of the castle to break the fast.
Just as the sheriff pulled out his throne-like chair, Prince John appeared, all dazzling hair and teeth and garments, with Jasper a few steps behind him and as immaculately turned out as ever.
“Good morning, good morning, all,” the prince drawled with a winning smile. “Ah, thank you, Vasey,” he said with an airy wave of his bejeweled hand, as he sprawled gracefully in the head chair. “We are quite famished this morning. Hope you’ve got a lovely spread for us.”
Jasper smirked as he sat down to the prince’s right.
~Oh, you hate this, don’t you, Vasey? ~
Vasey bowed and gave one of those smiles that didn’t reach his dark eyes.
“But of course. Anything that you require, Sire.”
He barked commands to the servants, who scurried to bring bread, honey, butter, fruit and ale to the guests.
“You look rather - tired - this morning, Vasey. Didn’t get enough beauty sleep?” Jasper murmured with a raised brow as he sipped his ale.
~Frankly, you could sleep for forty days and nights and it wouldn’t beautify that face~
Vasey bared his teeth in Jasper’s general direction and rubbed his hands together.
~you pompous, prancing windbag~
“Ah, simply agog with eager anticipation about tonight’s banquet. I could hardly rest for thinking of it. I want to ensure everything goes perfectly for you, my dear Prince John,” Vasey purred as he bowed his head to the prince.
“And for the delightful Allan and Sir Guy as well.” The prince grinned and playfully wagged his finger at the sheriff, but there was a warning look in his brown-gold eyes Vasey could not fail to detect.
“Oh, yes. I believe the prince expects only the best for two of his most loyal supporters,” Jasper chimed in. “I’m sure you won’t let Prince John down, hey, Vasey?”
Vasey gritted his teeth. “Rest assured. I won’t fail you.”
Prince John furrowed his handsome brow. “Where are those two adorable boys?”
The clink of spurs sounded in their ears as a velvet voice rumbled.
“Pardon us, Sire, we were up rather late discussing plans for today and - we both overslept. Allan will be here directly. Please forgive our tardiness.” Guy made an elegant bow and flicked back his lustrous mane of raven hair.
Jasper gave a little sigh. ~I’d kill for that hair~
The prince smiled. ~Gorgeous cheekbones. Rather like mine~
Vasey seethed. ~Hell’s bells, how can he look so fucking GOOD? ~
“Mornin,’everyone.” Allan sauntered in. “You’re lookin’ very well, Sire,” he said with a cheeky grin and a deep bow.
Prince John beamed. ~Such earthy charm. And the hair. So like mine~
Vasey raised a brow. “You’re looking very - chipper -this morning, Allan. In spite of staying up so late discussing plans with Gisborne . . .”
Allan shrugged as he slid into his seat. “Well, you know, milord, it’s very important to be prepared.”
A small smile tugged at Guy’s mouth. “And I can attest that young Allan is always prepared.” His teasing eyes met Allan’s over the rim of his cup.
Allan gave a little nod and grinned.
“Why thank you, Sir Guy. I try my best.”
The prince daubed at his lips with a serviette, and gave a little sigh.
“What a pleasure to know I’ll be in such good hands for this great adventure . . .”
Vasey smiled sourly. “Oh, yes, these two are awfully good with their hands,” he sneered.
Guy smacked his lips as he quaffed his ale. He gave Vasey a maddeningly serene smile.
~I’d love to wrap these hands around that miserable neck of yours, Vasey. But your time is coming~
Jasper, watching Vasey’s fingers absently tear his bread into miniscule crumbs, narrowed his eyes.
~The troll really does have a bee in his bonnet over ‘these two’ . . . I wonder if there is more to the story? Interesting~
Guy bit into a ripe strawberry, his pink tongue darting out to catch the juice on his lower lip. He puckered his delicate lips as he chewed, Adam’s apple bobbing in his long column of throat as he swallowed.
Allan could feel a fatuous grin spreading across his face and quickly cupped his mouth with his hand as he “coughed.”
~There’s just something about watchin’ Guy eat~
Vasey was also watching Guy, Jasper noticed. The sheriff was biting his lip, hooded eyes following Guy’s every movement. He had stopped destroying his bread; now his hands were in such tight balls his knuckles had turned white.
Jasper raised a thoughtful brow.
~Well, well. Sherry is jealous and in more ways than one, I suspect. I’m thinking dear old Vasey is actually rather smitten with Sir Guy~
He smirked as he bit into his buttered bread.
~ And I am quite sure those feelings are not reciprocated. Well, well, well. This is going to be an interesting visit indeed~
*~*~*~*
Prince John had decided he needed to meet the “fascinating” Minerva in her natural habitat; Guy and Allan needed to retrieve all their outlaw costumes and weapons.
“Jasper, you can stay here with Vasey and catch up on old times,” the prince announced.
Jasper gritted his teeth. “Lovely.”
~Ah well, perhaps I can find out a bit more of this mystery. Anything to paint the vile Vasey in a bad light~
Vasey gave another one of his patently false smiles and bowed his head. “Whatever you wish, Sire.”
~I have to keep this affected arsehole happy to keep the prince happy - oh, bother~
The prince clapped his hands together. “Capital! We shall all have a delightful day.”
And so, following their morning meal, Guy and Allan mounted their horses and rode to Locksley, the prince following in his royal carriage.
“Well, Minerva knows she is invited to the banquet, but - what’ll she think when we spring the prince on her at Locksley Manor?” Allan queried.
Guy gave him a wry smile. “Somehow, Allan, I have no doubt our Minerva can handle whatever situation she finds herself thrust into.”
Allan nodded. “Yeah, I reckon you’re right. She’ll probably have him eating out of her wrinkled little paw before you know it.”
Guy gave him a sidelong glance. “She’s certainly managed to train US very well,” he rumbled.
Allan grinned. “Too bloody right.”
Guy took a deep breath. “Allan-”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
Allan raised his brows. “For whot?”
Guy shot him an almost shy smile. “For - everything, I suppose.”
Allan shrugged and thought for a minute. “Yeah, well - thanks for not killin’ me even though there were times you really wanted to. I appreciate it.”
Guy burst into laughter as Allan goggled. “Hey, I’m not bein’ funny, Giz. You gotta be grateful in life, you know . . .”
Guy sobered. “I - guess I just haven’t always felt I had a lot to be grateful for in life.” Guy gave Allan one of those sweet smiles that always melted his heart just a little.
“And now I do.”
Allan nodded. “Me too, Giz. Me, too.”
As they arrived at Locksley Manor, a familiar small figure and furry companion appeared in the doorway.
“Zeus, the boys are back - and it looks like they brought company . . .” Her black eyes widened. “I do believe that’s a royal coach - oh my.”
Minerva’s small hands brushed some flyaway grey strands into place and smoothed her apron. “Heavens, Zeus. It looks like we’d best be behavin’ ourselves.” Zeus cocked his head and gave a sharp little bark.
“I know, you’re a good fella, just don’t decide to do your business on the prince’s boots or some such nonsense.”
“Did you miss us last night, Minerva?” Allan asked with a wink as he dismounted Hera.
“Of course I did. But I hope you’ve been havin’ a grand time.”
Guy swung down from Apollo with a fond smile for Minerva.
“As you can see, Minerva, we’ve brought a visitor along. He’s most anxious to meet you.”
The footman put the carriage steps into place and the door was flung open.
Out stepped a beaming Prince John. “Hullo, hullo!” He struck an elegant pose with bejeweled hand on hips, every wavy bronze lock perfectly in place.
Minerva thought she’d seen many a maiden who was not as pretty as the prince.
~ He knows it, o’ course, vain peacock that he is, but ‘tis a pleasure to lay these old eyes on such a splendid-lookin’ creature~
The prince cocked his handsome head as he laid his tawny gaze on the housekeeper. “And this must be the divine Minerva - goddess of wisdom, I do believe?”
Minerva dropped a deep curtsy, her lips curling into an elfin smile. “Not of wisdom or beauty, I fear - just plain ol’ common sense, that’s me, Sire.”
The prince took her hand and smiled. “Ah, you do yourself a disservice, my dear girl.
Guy and Allan have sung your highest praises.” He clasped her hand in his.
Minerva’s time-worn cheeks flushed every so slightly.
Allan and Guy exchanged affectionate glances. Prince John seemed to be working his charms on Minerva quite effectively.
“Now I shall be your devoted admirer as well,” the prince said, raising her hand to his mouth for a gallant kiss.
Minerva’s flush deepened.
“I feel like a mere slip of a thing with such sweet words. It’s a shame you couldn’t see me when I was young. I think you would have really liked me then, Sire,” she said with a decided nod and distinct twinkle in her dark eyes.
Prince John threw back his head and laughed merrily. “Oh, you adorable girl! I am quite sure I would have . . .”
Allan grinned. “I think we’d have all been head over heels for our Minerva.” He gave her a wink. “I’m pretty smitten with her, anyway.”
Guy’s lips curved into a mischievous smile. “Don’t forget, Allan - I saw her first,” he rumbled.
Minerva shook her grizzled head. “What a lot of silver-tongued devils I’ve got here. Well, the more, the merrier, I suppose, eh, Zeus?”
“Zeus.” Guy rumbled. “Do not forget your manners.”
The mastiff puppy raised a front paw and gazed up at the prince with soulful eyes.
The prince chuckled. “Ah, what a handsome fellow! Pleased to make your acquaintance, Zeus,” Prince John leaned over and shook the puppy’s paw with great seriousness.
A smile tugged at Guy’s lips. ~Those obedience lessons are paying off~
Minerva put her hands on her hips. “Well - enough o’ the pleasantries. Let’s get in out o’ this heat. There’s some ale and a comfortable seat inside - and may I say, welcome to Locksley, Prince John.”
The prince bestowed another beaming smile on Minerva. “Ah, I love it already. Lead the way, my dear Minerva. . .”
*~*~*~*
“Oh, yes, just the thing. Perfectly earthy and chock full of stench.” The prince, to his evident delight, was being introduced to Much’s disreputable old clothes.
Allan scratched his head and shot an amused look at Guy. “Not sure Much would appreciate your description, Sire, but yeah - they are certainly smelly and uhm - earthy.”
Guy smiled. “They will provide the authenticity for your role, Sire - which I have no doubt you will play with great energy and finesse.”
~ I am piling it on, but this vain peacock will eat it up~
The preening prince smoothed the lock of shining red-brown hair that waved across his brow and gave a dramatic sigh.
“I’ve always thought I would make quite a fine actor - if I hadn’t been destined to be king of England, of course,” Prince John drawled.
He furrowed his handsome brow slightly.
“If only I didn’t have the inconvenience of my brother Dickie to deal with.”
He gave another wistful sigh and waved his hand. “Such are the trials those of us who are born to reign must endure.”
“Indeed, Sire,” Guy said smoothly with an incline of his dark head.
“It is so lovely to have such loyal and understanding subjects as you . . . what fun we are going to have together,” Prince John said with a beaming smile as he clapped them both on the shoulder.
Allan’s lively blue eyes met Guy’s.
~Jesu, Allan, may our good luck continue~
~We’ll either be celebratin’ - or discoverin’ what if feels like to lose your head, Giz~
*~*~*~*
A bit of fighting was in order. Practice combat would not only keep Allan and Guy’s skills sharp. It would also make the prince truly feel like “one of the gang,” they reasoned.
On seeing Allan and Guy doff their clothing, Prince John had followed suit. Stripping off his finely-spun snowy white linen shirt and long, elegantly-embroidered bronze tunic, he revealed an admirably lean and taut torso.
Minerva, one who didn’t believe in passing up such golden opportunities, watched them from the window with a smile.
~Who knew little ol’Minerva would get to watch three lovely half-naked men - and one of them a prince, no less - right at her back door?~
“I’m feelin’ quite lucky these days, Zeus,” she confided to the pup.
The prince flexed his muscles, rolled his neck and began to caper around the courtyard, gleefully brandishing the broadsword they had supplied to him.
“Ah, the joys of physical activity. The sun beating down on one’s bare flesh, working up a warm glow, the thrill of combat . . . delightful,” he crowed, teeth and sword flashing in the sunlight.
Guy smiled and inclined his head. “Indeed, Sire. We quite agree,” he purred.
He cut his eyes toward Allan, who stood by his side. “Let’s just make sure he comes out smelling like a rose,” Guy murmured.
“No worries, Giz. I don’t fancy gettin’ this handsome neck of mine stretched,” Allan whispered back with a wink. “At least he looks well-fit.”
Guy couldn’t resist. “As well-fit as I am?”
Allan swiftly gave Guy’s lightly-tanned torso with its tempting raspberry-tinted nipples and ridged abdomen a once-over. He shook his head, smirking. “Nah, you’re the prince of that, Giz . . . and I should know.”
Guy shot him a quick and roguish grin before raising his voice. “We have Much’s famous shield for you to use, as well, Sire. Shall we begin?”
“Indeed, Sir Guy. Into the fray!” Prince John exulted.
The prince, armed with sword and “Much’s celebrated shield,” Guy, flourishing his massive quarter-staff and Allan, brandishing his own blade, were soon in a set-to.
Dust flew from the dance of booted feet as the trio parried, thrust, blocked, spun and swung.
Sweat streamed down their half-naked bodies; damp locks were tossed back as they grunted, sighed, and panted for breath.
The prince, striking Allan’s sword from his hand, had the former outlaw at the point of his blade. “What ho! Kneel before the brave outlaw Much, you blackguard . . .”
Allan bowed his head and dropped to his knees, arms outstretched. “You’ve beaten me, brave Much. I surrender.” He raised his earnest blue eyes in a beseeching gaze.
Guy laid down his quarter-staff and clapped. “Well done, Sire. Well done, indeed.”
The prince beamed at them both. “I was rather good, wasn’t I?”
Guy smiled. “Indeed you were,” he said in silken tones.
~Now if we can just keep you in line and without a scratch~
Guy glanced down at Allan, still on his knees, the rivulets of sweat pouring down his lover’s muscular chest; shapely mouth open, gasping for breath, bronze curls damp and tousled.
He smirked.
~I’m rather looking forward to getting past all this to a bit of celebrating with young Allan~
Allan glanced up at Guy; saw the smoulder in those azure eyes, the pink tongue flicking his delicately-shaped lips. He gave a deep inward groan.
~I so want to fuck Guy right about now. Oh, tonight can’t get here soon enough~
The prince gave a rapturous sigh.
~It is so jolly to have fellows like Allan and Guy to have a bit of fun with. Not boring at all~
*~*~*~*
“You look every inch the proper mucky outlaw, Sire,” Allan announced with an admiring grin.
Prince John had shed all his royal garments and slipped into Much’s cast-offs.
The shapeless drab jumper and tattered vest, well-worn trousers and shabby boots gave him a distinctly raffish air.
Guy nodded his approval. “There is one more thing you will need to complete your ensemble-” He held up Much’s sad-looking little cap.
The prince frowned. “The brave and valiant Much wears - that?”
Allan and Guy nodded soberly. “Oh, yes, Much always considered that it brought him good luck. He wore it in the Holy Land,” Allan explained.
Prince John narrowed his eyes as he stroked his goatee. “We-e-e-ll, I suppose . . .” He suddenly flashed a grin. “I DO want to play the part properly, after all.”
Guy smiled and inclined his head. “That’s the spirit, Sire.”
Allan placed the cap over Prince John’s shining auburn waves, tucking the stray locks under the cloth.
Hands on hips, Allan stepped back to survey his handiwork and grinned. “Better and better.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Guy’s mouth. The prince DID look amazingly Much-like.
“We are going to have to dirty you up just a bit more, Sire - for authenticity’s sake, of course,” Guy said with the raise of an elegant brow.
“Ah, yes, of course. A bit of forest filth would be required, I suppose.” Prince John nodded sagely.
“Yep. Don’t get regular baths out in the ol’forest. Our Much ends up a bit filthy as well as fussy,” Allan said.
The prince raised his brows. “Fussy as in-?”
“Rather - affected. Overly dramatic at times. Bit of a silly goose,” Allan said. Guy shot him a dark look.
“A very brave and valiant silly goose, o’ course,” Allan added quickly.
“Fascinating,” the prince breathed. “Such a challenge - but I shall gladly accept it.” He puffed out his chest as he stretched out his hands. “And triumph.”
Guy smiled and inclined his raven head. “We would expect no less, Sire . . .”
Allan grinned. “Too right.”
*~*~*~*
Guy needed to give Allan a heartfelt apology.
He had complained about the younger man talking too much in their early days together.
Compared to an excited Prince John, Allan was like a bloody monk who had taken a vow of silence, Guy thought.
“So, will these people be very, very wealthy, do you suppose? What a delight it would be to return to Nottingham with buckets of money and jewels . . . I can just imagine the expressions on Vasey and Sir Jasper’s faces when we sweep in with our bounty, oh - what fun!” the prince crowed merrily as the trio cantered along on horseback to a neighboring shire.
“My sources assure me we should make quite a haul, Sire,” Allan replied.
“And Allan’s sources never seem to be wrong, I must say,” Guy drawled.
~Damned if I know who these sources are, but let Allan have his secrets~
“Ah, but of course. I am sure I can count the marvelous Allan and Sir Guy to make it a worthwhile enterprise,” Prince John said, his smile beaming beneath Much’s rather ridiculous cap. “How exciting this will be!” He gave a happy sigh as he wriggled in the saddle.
“We will certainly do our best, Sire,” Allan said, biting back a chuckle.
~Methinks our poncy prince and our prissy peasant are a lot more alike than they could ever imagine~
*~*~*~*
“When will they arrive? Oh, this is going to be such a grand lark!”
The three men had tethered their horses in the forest and were now hiding behind a clump of bushes near the main road. “Much” was clearly champing at the bit, his tawny eyes gleaming with excitement.
Guy and Allan exchanged bemused glances.
“You will have to be very quiet and still, Sire. We don’t want to give away our presence too soon to our prey, now, do we?” Guy whispered in his most beguiling silken tones as he tilted his salt-and-pepper streaked head beneath the hood of his brown cloak.
The prince gave a small sigh. “Of course you are correct, Sir Guy. Oh, I am as giddy as a child on his feast day, I suppose.” He examined his uncharacteristically dirty fingernails.
“Been so bored of late, until you two came along.”
Prince John’s face brightened. “It is all so terribly exciting . . .”
Allan gave him a comradely pat on the shoulder. “You’ve got to remember to keep a cool head and watchful eye when you’re an outlaw, yeah?” Allan’s blue eyes narrowed, and he pushed back his hood to lean down and put his ear to the ground.
“What?! What?” Prince John’s eyes grew wide as he hissed a stage whisper.
Guy gave him a sharp warning look, softened by a smile. “Sh-h-h,” the knight said, tapping a long, elegant finger to his mouth.
“They’re comin’,” Allan breathed.
“I’ll take the lead. Sire, you stick with Sir Little John, there, yeah, just like we planned, right?”
Hoof beats pounded closer and closer. The prince was all a-quiver.
The blood seemed to roar in his royal ears.
~They call Dickie the Lion-Hearted. Piffle. Wait until they hear of my exploits! ~
Allan tugged his hood back over his head. Bow and arrow in hand, he prepared to step out to halt the approaching coach.
Suddenly a blur of brown shot by him and a high-pitched voice sounded: “We are Robin Hood’s famed outlaws. Surrender now!!”
Allan goggled. Guy groaned. The prince was standing in the middle of the road, the coach bearing down on him as he gazed at it, transfixed, mouth gaping open, sword held high and shield before his chest.
The coach did not slow down. Prince John gave a petulant stamp of his foot.
“You are supposed to stop. I order you-”
A pair of long, muscular arms snatched the prince out of harm’s way as Allan deftly shot an arrow into the hat worn by the coach’s driver. The startled man yanked the reins hard and brought the coach to an abrupt halt a few yards past where the prince had been standing.
Guy had pulled the prince back behind the bush. One big hand was clamped securely over the prince’s mouth, with his other arm firmly wrapped around the royal torso.
~Jesu, this prince is almost as fucking annoying at times as Hood was a child. Patience, Guy - patience~
Prince John cut his eyes and gave a much wounded look at his captor. This was not how the game was meant to be played, surely?
Guy shrugged apologetically. “Pardon, Sire - but they were about to run you down. I don’t think your death was part of the adventure you were hoping for . . .”
Allan heaved a sigh of relief the prince was still in one (untrampled) piece.
“Bloody hell,” he murmured under his breath and shook his head.
Affixing a properly cocky Robin-like smirk on his face, he quickly strutted to the side of the coach, a second arrow ready to fly. “Good day to you. I’m Robin Hood - and the pleasure is all yours.”
Allan grinned. “My faithful friend Much will now assist me in relievin’ you of all your valuables while Little John makes sure no one gets any ideas about playin’ hero . . .”
“You’ll do as Allan says now, eh, ‘Much?’” Guy, the prince still tight in his grip, breathed softly in his ear.
Prince John gulped and nodded (~how strong and - masculine! - Sir Guy is~).
“Good,” Guy rumbled approvingly, and released him with an encouraging pat on his back.
The prince cleared his throat, straightened his garments, threw the bag Guy handed him over his shoulder and sashayed over to Allan’s side.
A pair of ladies graced the interior of the coach: a well-upholstered dark-haired lady and her slender fair-haired maid, to be exact.
“Ah, the infamous Robin Hood, come to take all our precious treasure, Alice,” the lady said with evident pleasure, her mischievous dark brown eyes sparkling in a round and pretty face.
“Oh, dear . . . I suppose this means we’re going to be ravished, Lady Geraldine,” Alice whined with a deadpan expression, sprawling her limbs out across the seat.
“My mother always warned me about ruffians like this.”
Lady Geraldine gave “Hood” and “Much” a careful once-over. “Hmmmmm. That might not be such a terrible fate. They’re a bit dirty but I suspect they wash up quite nicely, Alice.”
Allan raised his brows in amusement. “That we do, milady, but you needn’t fear - we only want your money and jewels, not your virtue.”
Lady Geraldine gave a languorous sigh, her impressive bosom heaving beneath her sapphire blue gown. Prince John could not tear his eyes away from the rise and fall of those bountiful milky white baps. He licked his lips.
~Oh, why did Hoodie have to be such a goodie-goodie? Diving into that could be spectacularly entertaining~
“Pity,” Lady Geraldine said with a shake of her glossy dark head. “A bit of the rough now and again is rather refreshing, I find.”
“Oh -you adorable girl,” the prince blurted out. Allan bit his lip to keep from laughing.
Guy had a sudden need to clear his throat as he maintained his menacing gaze at the driver.
~Well, it hasn’t been a dull raid, that’s for sure~
“I mean - dear lady - will you please surrender your gems?” Prince John added with a rather fatuous grin, remembering to flourish his sword.
“Uhmmm,” Lady Geraldine cocked her head. “That’s a most impressive sword you have - or are you just happy to see me - pardon, but what is your name?” She purred as she batted her lashes at the “outlaw.” Allan smirked. The prince beamed.
“My name is - Much, dearest lady,” Prince John breathed. He thought he just might be in love.
“I’m Lady Geraldine of Dibley - but you can call me Gerri.” She smiled as she started to unclasp the heavy pendant around her neck.
“Let me get that for you, milady,” Alice murmured.
“Ah, darling Gerri - allow me,” the prince exclaimed, dropping his sword and shield. Remembering his orders, he shot a quick, beseeching glance at “Robin.”
Allan’s mouth twitched.
“Oh - why not, Much. Be a mannerly outlaw, by all means,” he drawled.
Gerri gave the two outlaws a saucy smile. “Why don’t I slip it around so you can unclasp it from the front,” she cooed as she slid the clasp around to nestle squarely between the cleft of her magnificent breasts.
The prince’s eyes widened. “Lovely . . .” He sighed as he took the clasp in his hands, brushing his fingertips against the satiny smoothness of Gerri’s bare skin.
“Ooh - that tickles,” she murmured, leaning over a little further to give the outlaws an even better glimpse of her considerable assets.
Allan gave a low whistle. ~If I weren’t head over heels for Guy, I wouldn’t mind divin’ into a bit o’ that myself~
“I suppose you’ll be wanting all my treasures, then,” she cooed. She beckoned “Much” closer with a plump bejeweled finger. “Alice has more of my precious things tucked away in - shall we say - unmentionable places,” she whispered in his ear.
Prince John raised his handsome head and looked at the rather rabbity Alice. She gave him a huge grin and waggled her fingers at him. Closing her eyes, she hitched up her skirts, flopped her arms and legs out wide and gave a dramatic whine.
“Go ahead and do your worst, you ruffians, but harm not my mistress.” She opened one eye and gave a large wink, before closing it again.
The prince gulped.
~That one has a most lean and hungry look about her. A bit - frightening~
Guy’s voice rumbled from the front of the coach.
“L-a-a-hds, we’d better get a m-o-o-ve on.”
“Righto, Little John. Alas - we must be on our way shortly,” Allan interjected.
“Alice, could you please - turn away and remove any valuables, and pass them to us?”
The maid’s mouth turned down. “Well, if you must be like that,” she said in a grievous tone. Alice flounced as she turned her back and began plundering for the precious gems and coins secreted on her person.
Allan smiled at Gerri. “We’ll also be wanting the rest of those lovely jewels on your fingers and wrists, milady.”
“Uhm, yes, that’s right - the rest of your jewels. So that we can care for the great unwashed of the land,” the prince said, nodding as he babbled. Allan rolled his eyes.
Gerri grinned. “Better wash yourself, too, while you’re at it.” She slipped off her rings and bracelets and placed them in the prince’s outstretched hand with a broad wink.
An affronted sigh sounded next to her. “Here,” Alice huffed, handing a drawstring bag bulging with coins along with several jewelry items laden with precious gems to her mistress.
Prince John’s golden brown eyes lit up. “Gadzooks, that’s a small fortune you have there!”
Gerri’s lips curled into a devilish smile. “Oh, there is nothing small about my fortune . . .”
The prince gave a blissful sigh.
~What an adorable girl~
“A-lahn. Much.” Guy sounded more than a tad impatient.
“Thank you, Lady Geraldine, Alice - we must be going now. Fare thee well,” Allan said with a cheeky grin. “Come along, Much.”
Prince John cast one last, longing glance at Lady Geraldine’s bountiful baps and nodded a little sadly.
“Adieu, dear ladies. The brave and valiant Much will never forget you . . .”
Guy snarled at the driver as the two men came to join him. “Doohn’t even think about m-o-o-vin’ until yoo’ve counted to one hoondred,” he growled, waving his quarterstaff before darting into the forest with his partners in crime.
As they rode away, a faint but merry cry wafted through the trees: “Lovely to be taken by you, Robin and Much . . . toodle-loo!”
The prince beamed. “She’ll never forget this day, I’ll wager.”
Guy smirked. “Neither will we, Sire,” he said dryly.
*~*~*~*
There was one more raid on their agenda for the day - a short and snarky fat, balding fellow whom the prince later referred to, while sniffing loudly, as “a grotesque cross between Vasey and a wild pig.” He proved, however, quite a wealthy pig, which cheered Prince John considerably.
The trio returned to Nottinghamshire with a considerable amount of loot and one blessedly intact and blissfully happy prince.
“Oh, my dear fellows, what a time of it we’ve had . . . and what a delightful night ahead of us,” he warbled happily.
Guy cut his eyes at Allan. “I have worked up a bit of an appetite, Sire,” he rumbled.
~And I think young Allan will definitely be on my menu~
The prince nodded. “As have I, dear Sir Guy - as have I. We shall certainly eat, drink and be very merry . . .”
Allan chuckled. “I’ll drink to that, Sire,” he said, flashing a knowing grin at Guy.
~And maybe - if I get lucky - I’ll lick some of Vasey’s best wine right off the delectable Sir Guy~
“I do wonder what Jasper and Vasey have been up to all day? I can hardly wait to fill them in on all the details of our daring exploits together,” the prince said with another happy sigh.
Allan shrugged. “Let’s hope they haven’t killed each other yet. That would sort of spoil the whole night.”
A peal of laughter sounded. “Oh, you adorable boy, you. So droll and delightfully earthy . . .”
Guy’s lips twitched. “Oh, yes. Our Allan can be very entertaining.”
~ And most accommodating. Honey, handcuffs, waterfalls . . . ~
Guy exhaled.
“Yes, tonight’s going to be a good, good night, I do believe,” the dark knight rumbled.
“I can hardly wait.” A rather predatory smile spread across his handsome face.
~Sir Guy wants to play with his lovely Allan~
*~*~*~*
Sir Jasper had begged off spending the day with Vasey. “I know you shall be quite busy making sure every detail for tonight is perfect - and I shouldn’t wish to be in your way,” he announced.
“I think I’ll have a look around dear old Nottingham - see how the simple folks live.”
Vasey had given him a decidedly false smile. “Oh, yes - tonight. Mustn’t let anything stand in the way of a glorious banquet for our prince.”
Jasper held up a gloved finger. “AND Sir Guy and Allan - don’t forget. His particular friends and the guests of honour.”
Vasey’s face took on the look of a man who had swallowed something very bitter.
“Oh, don’t worry. I could never forget those two.”
~And I can hardly wait to let the prince know just what they’ve been up to~
*~*~*~*
Jasper, as it turns out, was quite busy, too, that day. A few coins slipped to a shy and mousy little maid proved fruitful.
Had she seen anything out of the ordinary?
She had, in fact.
Armed with her words, Jasper decided to pay a visit to Locksley Manor for a chin wag with Sir Guy’s housekeeper.
By the time he had returned to Nottingham Castle, the prince’s right-hand man was feeling very pleased with himself. And quite ready for the games - so to speak - to begin.
*~*~*~*~*
“It was a glorious, glorious day,” Prince John crowed as he took his seat at the head banquet table that evening. Resplendent once more in cloth of gold richly embroidered in red, he spread out his hands, his many rings catching fire in the torch and candlelight.
Guy and Allan were seated to his right. Allan’s blue silk tunic enhanced the shade of his lovely eyes, just as Minerva had hoped; Guy looked every inch a lord in his black satin doublet, heavily shot through with silver thread.
Minerva fairly swelled with pride at the sight of her two lads. ~So handsome~
The housekeeper was, as Allan remarked, “lookin’ none too shabby herself” in a burgundy gown, her hair tidily braided and coiled into an elegant coronet, silver earrings set with blood-red rubies - a gift from Sir Guy - dangling from her small ears.
She had even rouged her lips and cheeks the tiniest bit and borrowed a smidgen of Sir Guy’s kohl for her eyes.
After all, Minerva had reasoned, how often would such opportunities arrive on her doorstep?
She sat to the prince’s left (“Ah, I am surrounded by my dearest friends from the good village of Locksley”), with Sir Jasper at her side.
Vasey had been relegated to a seat next to Jasper. Behind his pasted-on smile, the sheriff was seething.
~I’m the bloody sheriff around here and my own master at arms, his peasant bum boy and an ancient leper servant get precedence over ME? Outrageous. But I will have my revenge . . . oh, yes ~
The hall was filled with Nottinghamshire’s nobles; the trestle tables groaned from the weight of the food gracing them. The sound of musicians entertaining on the pipe and drum mixed with the chatter and laughter of guests.
Prince John stood. “Dear friends, dear friends,” his plummy voice rang out commandingly.
“We are exceedingly glad you could all gather with us on this divine summer’s evening, to join your prince regent in honouring two of our most loyal and enterprising subjects, two men who clearly love me-“
Smiling beneficently, he stepped behind Guy and Allan and placed his hands on their shoulders.
“I present to you Sir Guy of Gisborne and his faithful companion, Allan A Dale. Shall we all stand for a toast?”
The prince took his goblet in hand and raised it. “To Sir Guy and Allan - long may they live and serve their prince!”
The risen guests also lifted their cups in salute of the two men. Minerva leaned in to make eye contact with her “boys.”
“To my two bonny lads,” she said with a grin and a wink.
Vasey’s toast was singularly unenthusiastic.
“LAH-di-dah-dee-dah. I never got a great banquet in my honour,” he grumbled under his breath.
He felt a sharp jab in his ribs. Jasper was looking down his rather long nose at him, distinct amusement in his eyes.
“What’s the matter, Lord Vasey? You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself on this glorious occasion . . .”
Vasey bared his teeth. “On the contrary; I’m having a marvelous time . . .”
~Or I will be. Once I get the prince’s ear~
*~*~*~*
Allan tore into the pheasant with gusto, licking its succulent juices from his fingers. Guy watched over the rim of his goblet and felt the heat rise in his loins as he watched Allan’s soft, full lips wrap themselves around his nimble fingers.
~I have something I’d like for young Allan to suck on~
As he raised his goblet to his own lips, Guy’s free hand stole beneath the table to Allan’s thigh and caressed it, allowing his fingertips to trail lightly over Allan’s crotch.
Allan gave a little jump. Guy chuckled under his breath and quaffed the wine, smacking his lips with evident pleasure.
“Enjoying yourself, young Allan?” He purred.
Allan felt himself harden as Guy cupped him, fondling him through the fabric of his trousers.
“Uhm, yes,” he said faintly, looking into Guy’s teasing blue eyes.
~God’s teeth, but I’d love to fuck Guy right now under this table. Everyone else be damned~
The master-at-arm’s lips curled into a devilish grin as if he could read Allan’s thoughts. “Patience, Allan. All the games must be played out . . .” Guy murmured silkily.
“Ah, this viaund ryal is positively to die for! I do so love a good quiche.” The prince daubed his lips with his serviette and gave a happy sigh.
“The food and wine are most wonderful. But something troubles me,” he said with a furrowed brow. Turning to Guy and Allan and leaning in toward them, Prince John spoke in a conspiratorial whisper.
“I sometimes think the sheriff does not truly love me.”
Guy tilted his glossy dark head. “And why do you say that, Sire?”
“Well- look at him! He was given a golden opportunity to present me with a great banquet in your honor - and here it is, and it is so lovely,” the prince murmured, waving his hands at the spread laid before him. “I mean, boar’s head and roasted peacock - redressed for the occasion! - and some really choice spiced wine . . . and yet, the sheriff looks completely miserable.”
Prince John folded his arms. “Ergo, I think the sheriff is not happy about making ME happy.” He gave a dramatic sigh. “Is that so much for me to ask?”
“Not in the least,” Guy said with an earnest look. He glanced at Allan, who nodded in agreement, adding, “He should be one o’ the happiest men on God’s green earth, Sire.”
~I’ve got no objection to gettin’ the troll in a bit o’ hot water~
Guy flicked back his raven mane, its reddish highlights shining in the candlelight, crinkling his own broad brow in thought as he carefully chose his words.
“I think, Sire, the problem may lie in the fact the sheriff is - lonely.”
The prince tented his fingers. “Pray, do continue, Sir Guy.”
Guy inclined his head. “You have the love of so many, Sire. And the sheriff-”
Guy paused and gave a sad shake of his head.
“He has no one.”
Prince John’s eyes grew wide. “But of course! I should have seen it sooner!”
He flashed them a triumphant smile. “Vasey needs a wife.”
Allan almost choked on a piece of peacock, requiring Guy’s broad hand to swat him on the back.
“Ah-uhm-that sounds like a - brilliant plan, Sire. Just the thing our Sherry needs,” Allan said, clearing his throat.
Guy smiled. “Of course, it would have to be the right sort of woman. Of noble birth, that goes without saying, and very . . .” Guy narrowed his eyes in thought.
“Affectionate.”
Allan nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. A very lovin’ sort of woman would do him a world o’ good, I’d wager.”
“A woman’s gentle touch on his arm, soft words whispered in his ear, tender kisses, many, many tender kisses . . .” Guy purred in his velvet tones, the prince hanging on his every word.
“Really? Somehow I never saw Vasey as liking that sort of attention.”
Guy tilted his head and gave the prince a confident smile. “I know Lord Vasey very well. Underneath that rather harsh surface lies a shy, sensitive soul who craves love and understanding - from the right sort of woman. A mature and experienced woman.”
This time Allan managed not to spit up his wine.
“Yeah, just the thing to bring out his warm and cuddly side,” he added with a deadpan expression.
The prince tapped his chin in thought. “You know, I believe I know just the perfect woman for our dear Vasey . . .” He grinned. “She is very -friendly.”
Guy quaffed more of the excellent wine. Smacking those shapely lips, he swallowed, that inviting Adam’s-apple bobbing in his long column of throat.
He gazed into the prince’s tawny eyes. “Pray tell me more, Sire . . .”
*~*~*~*~*
Vasey peered down the table and saw those three handsome heads close together, discussing - What? Who? - and inwardly seethed.
~I should be at his side, I should be sharing his confidences~
“Oh, if he only knew the truth,” the sheriff muttered under his breath.
“What’s that, Vasey?”
Jasper raised his brows quizzically.
“Nothing. I - I need to speak to the prince . . . now.” Vasey hissed through clenched teeth.
Jasper leaned in close. “Oh, now, I am the prince’s most trusted servant - you can surely share whatever is brimming over inside you with me.”
Vasey bit his lip, his hands balled in tight fists. “It’s about Guy and that - boy.” He spat the words.
Jasper wiped his chin of the stray spittle and forced a confiding smile on his face.
“Do tell . . .”
*~*~*~*
Guy had excused himself from the table. “Pardon me, Sire - all this wonderful wine requires me to answer a call of nature,” he said with a disarming smile. He shot a quick glance in Allan’s direction.
Moments after Guy strode out, Allan found himself in urgent need of answering the same call.
“Do pardon, Sire - All this rich food and wine is gettin’ to me,” Allan said with a cheeky grin.
Minerva winked at him. “Do behave yourself, young Allan.”
He shrugged. “Don’t I always, Minerva?”
As he slipped into the castle corridors, Allan looked to his left and right. “Guy?” He said softly.
“Surprise,” a silky voice growled low and Allan felt a pair of strong hands pull him into the darkness.
Warm lips pressed against Allan’s throat as arms wrapped tight around him.
“I - I thought you were answerin’ a call of nature, Guy.”
A chuckle. “Oh, I am, Allan - I am.”
Guy turned Allan to face him and pushed him against the wall, grinding his hardness against the younger man. Allan gave a little moan.
“And this is what nature is telling me to do . . .” A velvet hiss.
Guy hungrily claimed his mouth as Allan slid his fingers into Guy’s tousled raven mane and clutched it tightly.
~ Oh, Guy - this is risky business, but bloody hell it’s so good . . . ~
*~*~*~*