storybroken | [event: flashback]

I'm not leaving without what's mine.

[Even if those things aren't actually that important. It's the principle of the thing.]

Edited 2011-11-18 06:46 (UTC)

You're welcome to try and get it back...

Robin, don't be stupid. It's getting dark and we aren't the only ones on these roads.

[ That would be Little John, making his was down the semi-beaten path. Robin sighs. ]

[James automatically looks to the sky and sighs as well when he realises John is right; there's no time to make it to the next town. Even if he left now, he would have to camp in the forest anyway. But he doesn't plan to leave.]

Then what do you suggest?

[It's directed at John more than Robin this time.]

[ Robin rolls his eyes at being dismissed, but he glances to John as well. He wants to see what his best friend has come up with. ]

We could take you with us back to our hideout — but that would mean blindfolding you to keep our location safe.

[ He looks as though he's not sure whether James would agree to such a thing. Meanwhile, the third and final man appears behind John and makes his way up beside Penelope, offering Robin his forgotten hat, the one that had fallen off when he'd tackled James off his steed. The bandit leader grins and takes it, brushing it off some to place it back atop his head. ]

[James debates this internally for a moment, spotting a very familiar dagger in the third man's belt and giving him another flat look.]

Very well; I accept. And I'm going to want that dagger back, by the way.

[ The return of his hat has put Robin in a better mood, at least, and so he circles around. Obviously, he doesn't plan on dismounting just yet; Penelope is tired, but he knows she'll appreciate a slow walk back home. ]

We'll see about your dagger. Now, off.

[ John rolls his eyes fondly while he rips off some of the material of the prince's earlier-discarded cloak for their makeshift blindfold. It's better to see Robin in high spirits than huffy over having lost some sort of competition. ]

[James gave Robin a semi-exasperated look, and then another one at John, and then dismounted, patting his gelding's neck and murmuring an assurance before stepping away. There were enough of them around him that he didn't bother to offer them his sword; they had the advantage anyway. Instead he only stood, waiting patiently and prepared to slap away any hands who might try to search his belt and pouches.]

[ Little John moves forward, stepping behind James to tie the band around his eyes. The knot is thankfully not too tight, but the band too carefully placed to see much more than one's own boots.

Behind them, Robin reaches for the reigns of James's gelding and ties them to the pommel of his own saddle. What? They weren't just going to leave the poor thing out there. Once set up, the three men on the ground begin leading James away as Penelope and the gelding contentedly walk behind them. ]

[James can't help but tense, even though he's expecting it, and his grip tightens instinctively on the hilt of his sword. When he hears a footstep beside him he instinctively turns to look toward it, but then submits to the hand on his arm, stepping gingerly in the direction they turn him. His gut loosens a bit when he hears more than one set of hoofbeats, and with a slow exhale he follows his new guides.]

[ They continue on in relative silence. Occasionally bursts of conversation start between different members and peter out soon after, small tidbits of their lives intertwining and continuing despite the presence of the prince they have in their care. Robin is especially jovial about it all, having brushed off the half-loss now that things seem to be rapidly spinning in his direction. He laughs sometimes, initiates jokes or falls into comfortable silences whenever it suits him.

Once there's hardly any light to travel by, the sound of bustling about and crackle of torches scattered about would alert James to their destination. Scattered voices call up in greeting to their returning men, two of the men detaching from James' entourage, leaving Little John to take the prince's arm. ]

We're here.

[James listens closely, or as closely as he can without winding up tripping and falling flat on his face--and it's a close thing, once or twice. The easy camaraderie makes his chest tighten a bit; it wasn't anything like bandits as he would have expected. Well, he already knew that, but it was difficult to think of them as thieving scum when he was hearing them as people.

[He turns his head toward Little John, his hearing acute now he'd been blinded for so long; he can hear the curious notes in the voices of the men in the camp.]

So I hear. May I have my sight back now?

Of course, Your Highness.

[ They may be bandits and Robin may have a distinct lack of respect for James in some ways (okay, mostly just the ways pertaining to his royalty), but Little John seems more inclined to treat the man fairly. ... well, more than Robin at any rate. He removes the blindfold to show what appears to be a small village right in the heart of the forest. There are no buildings, but speckles of tents and occasional torches as lampposts, fire pits as randomly places as anything else, men crowded around in spots and sharing drink and stories and milling about to do one job or another despite the hour, there's even the sound of a sparring sword match off in the distance, quiet but unmistakeable.

Robin's town is alive, if small, and if James looks behind him, he'll see the king bandit himself dismounting Penelope and personally leading her off to the makeshift stables along with James's gelding. He's already been approached by several different men and said a few words, all without losing his stride. This world is his and he's in perfect tune with it, much like James might be back at the castle despite the radically different atmosphere. ]

There's sure to be some food laying around if you'd prefer, or we can find a place for you to sleep for the night. Seeing as you're our... guest, we'll let you decide.

John! [ It's for this that he stops, barely within sight of the flickering torchlight down the not-really-a-road. ] Take him to the keg cart, I'll meet the both of you there when I'm done. We've come all this way, we may as well show some hospitality, right?

[ ... and then he's off again, leaving plenty of his men to begin reacting to their guest now that Robin is no longer in the vicinity. Curious looks and questions to each other abound, a quiet murmur among the camp. ]

[James blinks rapidly when the blindfold is removed, and then can't help but stare, looking around himself. Whatever he'd expected, it wasn't this; this wasn't merely some bandit's camp. It was much more than that. And its inhabitants--there were so many more of them than James somehow imagined, even having heard stories from the yeomen. John's words come at a bit of a distance.

[When Robin speaks James turns to see him, shaking off the fleeting reverie. He frowns and steps forward, ignoring the attention he's receiving.]

Wait; I need to take care of my horse.

[If he had been home and needed in a meeting, come home from a long journey, he would have given his horse over to the stablehands. But for a pleasant day's ride and all the times he'd stopped at inns on his journey now, he had always groomed and stabled his horse himself, and he isn't going to stop now.]

[ Robin stops, rolling his eyes to himself before he turns and makes a grand gesture for James to hurry the hell up. Then he points toward Little John and again off in the distance. Plan is still the same, their guest will just be heading somewhere else first. ]

Come on, Your Royal Pain, if you want to take care of your horse, you're going the whole way.

[The ridiculous nickname makes James frown even as he follows, his pace fast to catch up and then matching Robin's.]

I have a name. I'd prefer if you use it.

[Somehow James felt he wasn't going to get Robin to address him by his proper title, but the least the man could do was refrain for stupid names.]

[ Robin leads his horse simply with a hand along her shoulder and, by proxy, leads the gelding. He turns to regard James as he walks, brow quirked in consideration and amusement. ]

I do use it. Haven't you heard already?

[James gives him a look and moves forward to take his gelding's reins and lead his own horse himself.]

As you say, oh Earl of Assington.

[Yeah, he knows about that little title, Robin. Don't think he doesn't.]

[ Unfortunately, Robin was fulling expecting to remain more or less anonymous... so he gives James a very searching look for the retort. It's caught halfway between amusement (oh, come on, it was a good comeback!) and unsettled. He turns forward to watch the path before he speaks. ]

I'm just a man, like all of the rest here. No Earls in this group, that's for sure. You, on the other hand, are certainly His Majesty, the Insufferable.

Why? Why aren't I 'just' a man also, if you're not an earl?

[Half a demand, half plaintive. Then he lifts an eyebrow, his mouth tilting ironically.]

And what would I have been if I had won?

[ That earns a very flat look, James. It's not the same situation at all. ] Did your father disown you when I wasn't looking?

Well, we'll never know, will we? [ He musters a cocky smile for that one. ]

Did yours?

[It sounds like the same situation, other than the difference in rank.]

[ Robin laughs, then shakes his head. ]

No. You misunderstand. Never mind, we've arrived.

[ He nods up toward the bundle of trees connected by makeshift fences, a very crude facsimile of a stable. There were a handful of horses milling about, several asleep at this time of night. Robin steps aside to circle Penelope somewhere comfortable before he starts taking care to remove the saddle, the reigns, brush her down. For him, the conversation is over. ]

[James shoots him a puzzled look, but nonetheless steps his gelding around so he can still speak easily enough to Robin if necessary. The prince hesitates a bit but then unbuckles his scabbard and arm-guards and lays them aside, rolling up his sleeves before removing his horse's tack.

[He has to hunt a bit to find the brushes, but soon enough he's settling down to groom the gelding. At first he remains quiet, but then speaks up.]

So what is the truth of how you came to be here, then? I've heard a lot of speculation, but gossips are only vaguely related to the truth.

That's just the way I like it, James. What have you heard? I mean—which story is your favorite?

Tell me the truth and I'll tell you my favourite.

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