Caged Robin (used to be Untitled)

Chapter Two: Capture

The Sheriff sat in his study, contemplating the stroke of luck that had enabled him to finally capture his most hated enemy.

--

The Sheriff had a led a group of his guards into Sherwood Forest, hoping to capture the leader of those annoying “Merry Men”. They were nearly to the tree line, when they saw something unexpected: Robin of Loxley was bathing in the river. Loxley didn’t happen to be facing them and had no idea he was being watched.

“Don’t just sit there,” hissed the Sheriff to his men, “get him!”

The Sheriff’s men jumped off their horses and rushed at the water. Loxley turned at the sound, surprised. After a short scuffle, the guards had grabbed the outlaw and dragged him to the riverbank. His clothes and weaponry lay a few feet away from the Sheriff, on a large rock.

The Sheriff ordered his men to fetch Loxley’s belongings. Once the items had been delivered to him, he threw Loxley’s clothing at him.

“Put your clothes on, Loxley,” he snapped, trying to put as much loathing and disgust in his voice as possible, to hide how he really felt.

Once Loxley was dressed, the Sheriff handed his men a coil of rope, which they then used to tie up Robin. After that was done, he was unceremoniously slung over the back of the Sheriff’s horse, and the company rode back to Nottingham Castle.

--

The Sheriff didn’t return to his bedchamber until well after dark, after supper had been served and eaten. He was lying in his bed in his nightclothes and sleeping; his arms wrapped around Robin’s lean waist. Ropes were tied around his wrists and ankles, so he wouldn’t hit or kick the Sheriff during the night.

Robin hated being this close to the Sheriff and being touched by him in any way, after what he did earlier. He felt stupid. I should have seen this coming, he thought, angrily. The signs were all there, he just never thought to put them together. Maybe if he had, he wouldn’t have been caught. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

When Robin awoke the next morning, he was alone. His wrists and ankles were unbound, but he was still somewhat attached to the bed, because of the collar. He sat on the floor, leaning against one of the bedposts. Dressing at this point was impossible; for one thing, his leggings were in unwearable tatters and for another, the rest of his clothes were far beyond his reach as long he had that stupid collar around his neck.

Robin decided instead of sitting on the cold floor, feeling sorry for himself, he would try and see if he could free himself. First, he yanked on the chain that was fixed to the bedpost. It was strong and wouldn’t give. Then, he decided to give it another try. The chain didn’t yield this time, either. After a few more good tugs, Robin still hadn’t managed to break the chain loose from the post, and collapsed onto the floor, in defeat-now. He wasn’t willing to remain the Sheriff’s prisoner any longer. He was going to escape, if it was the last thing he did.

When the Sheriff reentered his bedchamber, Loxley was pulling at the collar around his neck.

“If you keep that up, Loxley, you’ll end up choking yourself,” he commented, closing the door.

Loxley let go of the leather around his neck and faced the Sheriff. The outlaw didn’t seem particularly pleased to see him, which really wasn’t too surprising.

“You’re back.”

He spoke with loathing in his voice.

“Of course,” replied the Sheriff, “who were you expecting? One of your pathetic ‘Merry Men’, perhaps? Or maybe your Marian?”

The Sheriff paused for a moment, taking a small step forward, before continuing.

“Yes, I wonder what she would think, to see you now, Loxley.”

Robin’s eyes widened at the Sheriff’s words. The Sheriff gave him a knowing look.

“Ah, I’ve hit a nerve, I see,” he said, “How do you think she’ll feel, Loxley?”

Robin didn’t answer. The Sheriff continued to walk towards Robin. When the Sheriff got close enough, he kissed Robin, embracing him tightly.

Robin broke the unwanted kiss and pushed the Sheriff away.

“Stay away from me,” he said, quietly.

The Sheriff laughed and reached a hand towards Robin’s face. It was a low, cold chuckle that sent chills down Robin’s spine.

“Now, why would I ever do that?” he asked.

Loxley, trying to avoid the Sheriff’s touch, jumped onto the very large bed behind him. The Sheriff smirked evilly and approached the bed.

“Keep your filthy hands away from me,” warned Loxley, walking backward across the bed, and into a corner.

“Why, after all the trouble you've put me through, Loxley, I think I'm entitled to a little...compensation… don’t you agree?” asked the Sheriff, “Now that I have you here, I fully intend to enjoy every last moment until I decide to put you on the gallows.”