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Prince John's castle was an ominous location for anyone not fully in support of him. Its tall walls were only overlooked by the towers standing proudly above them, silhouetting the sky for those cowering souls looking from below. Add in guards heavily and effectively patrolling the place, ensuring that all but the sneakiest of scoundrels would slip past their watchful eyes, and one wouldn't be blamed for mistaking the establishment for a glorified prison. Which it was, for some. The castle sported a dungeon across the courtyard from Prince John's room, as well as gallows where the merciless hanging of his enemies took place.
Through said courtyard and into the castle's entrance, Robin Hood was being dragged along by one guard and the Sheriff, both handling his leash. Prince John and Sir Hiss were following right behind them, the former having a spring in his step at his merry victory. Though the odds of him escaping were almost nonexistent, Robin Hood found himself twisting and yanking himself wildly in his bonds as he was walked through the halls of the castle. The pulling of the leash combined with the momentum from his efforts ended up putting the fox on one knee, and in this position he planted his feet into the stony floor of the castle, trying and halt his captors' progress. But his feet and knee just ended up continuously dragged across the ground, causing Robin to clench his teeth at the scraping and subsequently struggle even harder, grunting loudly in his exertion.
Nonetheless, he was still helpless as the guards reached Prince John's throne room. They thrust Robin forward like a bag of useless belongings, and he was unable to break his fall as his face planted hard against the ground. He grunted softly as his paws sprawled weakly in their ropes.
"If you don't quit givin' us trouble, boy, I'm gunna give you a premature execution. Got it?!" said the Sheriff, who was still holding the leash and clearly fed up with the resistance of his outlaw captive.
Robin got back up onto his feet once more and simply scowled at the wolf. "Really, now? Why, I'll bet I could take you down even tied up!" he barked.
The Sheriff narrowed his eyes coldly in response, matching Robin's own glare as the two stared each other down resentfully.
They were interrupted, however, by a familiar voice.
"Stop this! Prince John, please, let him go!"
Maid Marian had been following the guards the entire way up, constantly pleading for the prince to not treat Robin so horridly. She was currently trying to force her way through the many burly guards standing in between her and the captive outlaw. She didn't care if it was futile, or if her cries fell on deaf ears; she had to try anything for him.
But at this point, the lion prince had had enough of her annoyance. He plugged his fingers in his ears and moaned childishly in annoyance.
"Oh for heaven's sake! Will someone please get this sniveling woman out of here before my eardrums burst?!"
One of the guards closest to her obliged, happy to do so given his own irritation. He firmly grabbed the vixen by both arms, his massive hands completely obscuring them and squeezing her painfully.
As he began pulling her away, Marian shrieked in disgust. "AAGHH! Unhand me, you knave! Robin! LET ME GO!! ROBIN, NO!!!"
"Marian!" Robin shouted, disgusted by how rough they were to her. "That's no way to treat a lady, John!" he shouted to the prince.
John merely chuckled at his anger. "Now now, boy. She'll simply be removed long enough for us to decide what to do with you," he replied with a chortle.
He strolled up to his captive vulpine with a sneer and tucked a finger under his chin. Robin's ears pulled back as his gleaming gaze was forced into the ruler's callous eyes.
"I really don't know what a lady of her stature sees in such a lowlife. Why, she can have any male suitor of her choosing … perhaps not anymore, what with the damage she's already done to her own reputatio- YOWWWCH!!!"
The ever-mischievous Robin had taken the opportunity to bite down on John's finger. It wasn't going to do him any favors, but he wasn't going to stand there while some hack prince besmirched Marian's good name.
Prince John shook his finger in pain, covering it up with his other hand and cradling it like it was about to fall off. "Someone get me a bandage, NOW!!"
A guard took off at his king's request, not realizing that his majesty wasn't even bleeding.
"You miserable little rat! Just for that, I'll make sure you die twice as much!!"
"Uh, sire?" Hiss interjected. "I don't believe that's possib-"
"SILENCE!!" John screamed, and Hiss recoiled in fear of the ill-tempered lion.
Robin Hood rolled his eyes and shifted his coiled up arms again, only for the Sheriff to tug at his leash to interrupt his efforts. "Enough of that, prisoner," the Sheriff scolded. "You ain't going anywhere, so just settle yourself down."
"What's the matter?" Robin barked. "Afraid to face me like a real man? Why don't you untie me so we settle this the old-fashioned way!" The fox knew he was poking the bear - well, the wolf - but his inner rebel wouldn't allow him to keep silent despite his vulnerability.
Unfortunately, Hiss had different plans, growing weary of their captive egging everyone on. "Sire, could we please silence this annoying fellow?"
The Sheriff spoke up at this. "Oh, I got somethin' for him."
With a smug grin, he grabbed a thick, white hanky out of his back pocket, stretched it out, and approached Robin from behind. As the fox pieced together what was about to happen, he instantly shook his head and prepared to speak out against it.
"You-nnngggh!"
And yet the do-gooder was cut off as the cloth was shoved in his mouth. He instantly recoiled at the invasive material and tried to shake it out. But with the fabric jammed deeply between his teeth, the wolf yanked it back hard, before tying it in a painfully tight knot at the back of Robin's head. The result was a highly effective gag that dug into the corners of Robin's mouth, thick enough to prevent his lips from touching.
"Rrrgh! Nrrrmrph!!" Robin grunted as he violently tossed his head around, trying to rid his mouth of the foul material. Judging from the rotten, overpowering taste, it had clearly been used semi-recently, making the insult even greater.
His efforts were in vain, however, as it held on securely and kept his jaws in this uncomfortable position.
"Hehehe, not such a big talker now, are ya?" the Sheriff said mockingly. Robin's eyes narrowed deeply as he snarled softly through the gag and squirmed feebly.
"Yes, now then," Prince John intervened. "With that out of the way, let's discuss the matter of how dispose of this rat."
"I say we hang 'im in front of his sweet old Marian," one of the guards spoke up. "Let the last thing he sees be the lovely girl weeping for her poor man," he said, all too sadistically, bringing his voice to a pathetic whimper and miming wiping away tears.
"Hmm! Rmmrnnhrr nnnrm mmphnn!" Robin snarled out as he tugged furiously at his bonds, but his defiant statement was stifled by the gag. You don't dare play with her pure heart like that!!
"Well, I certainly would want to watch something so delicious. Show that vixen what happens when she behaves so foolishly," Prince John admitted. "However, it is not enough!" he exclaimed, pounding his fist in the air. "I want everyone to see him at his lowest! I want him humiliated! Tossed around like the worthless scrap of meat that he is!"
"Rrrrnhh mmrrrrg!" Robin garbled uselessly, his silky-smooth voice reduced to an indecipherable mess.
"Sire, if I may …" Hiss chimed in. "I don't believe we should risk keeping him alive any longer. We're simply opening up a chance for things to go wrong. Let us just kill him now and be done with it, shall we?"
As usual, he tried to be the voice of reason for the childlike king, doing his duty as faithful advisor in the lion's many lapses of judgement. It proved ever so difficult when John constantly refused to listen, but Hiss still felt obliged to say his piece.
However, as usual, the lion prince stubbornly refused heed his friend's advice.
"And let him get the last laugh in front of the townspeople? Never! I'll forever be the laughing stock of Nottingham!"
"Now hold on there, Prince," the Sheriff cut in. "I've been talkin' to some of my buddies here and there, about all the hubbub and ruckus this outlaw's put'em through," he nodded his head to the still-squirming vulpine. "And among the many fantasies they've had to gettin' their just desserts, we've tossed around the idea of using ol' Robin here," he tugged the collar, eliciting a muffled grunt from the gagged fox, "As target practice. Why, I say we do just that! Invite all the folks in the land to another archery contest. Only this time, it'll be for the honor of killing our no-good prisoner here." He finished his proposal with a head turn and sneer to the helpless Robin Hood.
Such a fate would indeed be humiliating for the suave, heroic outlaw, having achieved daring, legendary feats in his "career", only to meet his end as a plaything for crooked archers. But even worse than that, he didn't think he could bear Marian, or those poor children, seeing him in that state as his final moments. It would surely destroy their spirits. Robin once again struggled furiously, twisting and wrenching himself in all directions, feeling the thick, overpowering cords crush his slender upper body. But they enveloped his arms in a way that halted their movements in nearly any and all directions. When factoring in his leash as well, it all rendered the fox famous for his physical prowess suddenly powerless.
"Mmmnnnph mmmnnn, Phrrmmph!"
As the Sheriff watched amused at his failed struggling, Robin's eyes flared in contempt for this arrogant, slimy creature. Why was the wolf so content to hold power over others, so apathetic to those he stepped over as he served his corrupt master? And why was it that such apathy and corruption found itself dominant over those more deserving and innocent so often? He'd seen it for years, ever since his youth; the state of Nottingham seemed to depend on the charity of those who could barely sustain themselves, rather than those on top whose duty it was to provide such coin. But really, how could one be so surprised when men like these held that power?
Throughout Robin's squirming and musings, the prince thought his sheriff's idea over, stroking his chin with a finger and thumb. As the seconds passed, what was once a pondering frown gradually curled up into a devious, arrogant grin filled with awe and wonder. He brought his paws to rub against one another, and it became clear to all that the more he thought about it, the more he approved of the concept. And the more Robin's ears pulled back at the dreadful realization of what was to befall him.
Hiss also saw the prince's unspoken decision. He, however, was still unconvinced. "Sire, I must insist. We must finish this immediately before it's too late. You know how tricky this fox can b-mmmn!"
Prince John cut his assistant off by rudely clamping two furry fingers around his jaws, not even bothering to look at the snake's unamused expression.
"I see your point, dear friend, I really do. But I must take a stand with this. I must prove that I am a king to be worshipped, to be feared! And what better way to prove it than to make an example out of this criminal? No one in Nottingham, nor beyond, will ever cross me, lest they seek the same fate as their precious Robin Hood!"
Robin's glowering eyes shrank down to slits. By now he had fully straightened his legs and held himself high, trying to maintain what little dignity he currently had. But as the would-be king spoke, his poised demeanor giving way to indignation, anger, and fear (though he wouldn't admit to that last one). He growled behind the filthy cloth, not even needing to pull his lips back into a snarl as the gag did the job already.
"It is decided, then!" Prince John said, despite no other verbal agreements. "Robin Hood is to face execution by contest! And the winner will receive a reward worthy of … well, not a king, as only I get that honor. But it will be something, I can assure you!"
The dastardly lion made his way back to his throne, and sat down comfortably. "Spread the word across the land," he ordered. "Anyone who wishes to claim this kill shall be welcome! The end of Robin Hood lies in their hands!"
Everyone in the room besides Hiss cheered a loud "Huzzah!" at the declaration, each of them raising their fists into the air triumphantly. Unfortunately, the Sheriff's pumped fist was the one holding Robin's leash, and so the fox found himself dangling a few inches off the ground by his neck.
"MMMRRPH!!" As he felt the collar suddenly digging into his throat, Robin desperately kicked his legs out in the direction of the crooked wolf, writhing as his skinny body was spun around in the process. The Sheriff just held him out a few feet away in amusement, watching cockily as the outlaw's feet failed to make contact with him.
"RRRRNNG!! HRRRRNN!!"
"Oh yes, in the meantime," John stated as he saw his prisoner's struggling. "Toss him into the dungeon. And be sure that no one sneaks in to save him. And no one nears his cell unless under order."
Happily obliging, the Sheriff and an unnamed rhino guard were quick to pull Robin away through the throne room's entryway. Much to his irritation, Robin just caught the wicked prince offering him a sarcastic wave farewell in his last glimpse of the room.
Robin sputtered and grunted into the gag, twisting himself in a frenzy as his captors kept pulling him with cruel apathy. His resistance frequently knocked him off his feet, legs often left dangling behind him as he was dragged along. But even when he was able to firmly plant them into the hallway floors, it did no good to slow himself down.
His captors eventually arrived at a row of dank, mucky cells that made up the castle's dungeon. The pungent odor was just prominent enough to get under the fox's skin, and unfortunately he had no means of escaping it with his nose the only way he could breathe. Barely any sunlight was able to escape the desolate area, and clearly no upkeep had been received in quite some time. After all, why put in the effort to spruce up a place meant for John's enemies? It tore at Robin's heart how many innocents must have ended up unjustly trapped down here for any possible number of days or months.
And now he was to become one of them.
The vulpine's melancholy thoughts were cut off as the Sheriff roughly shoved Robin's smaller back into the farthest cell from the dungeon entrance. The fox landed on his side with a painful thud and a muffled yelp. The guard undid Robin's collar, and the outlaw instantly scrambled up onto his feet with that one major restriction now gone. He charged for the cell door, hoping to wriggle his way around his captors and make a break for it. But the bulky thugs were quick to knock him back down, and the rhino was easily able to pin the skinny fox down. The Sheriff then got out more rope and, despite Robin's persistent kicks, was able to easily tie the fox's flailing ankles tightly together, rendering him even more helpless.
"Nirrrgh, rrrnnn hemmmph!" Robin yelled.
The Sheriff got back up after he tied off the brutal knot at Robin's feet. He then watched as the bound and gagged hero proceeded to kick his restrained legs out at the wolf, of course missing pathetically. He shimmied and jutted his orange-furred legs and knees aimlessly, but these new ropes were just as well-tied as the rest of them.
With little else he was able to do, Robin Hood launched himself to sit up on the mucky dungeon floor. He gave a firm, defiant glare at the two, his brows furrowed angrily, nose heaving in and out threateningly. But it only caused the two to snicker.
"Oh no! I'm so afraid of the big, strong Robin Hood! Someone save me, please!" the Sheriff said overdramatically, causing Robin to roll his eyes and groan in annoyance.
"Face it, boy. You've gone and pushed your luck too far. And come event time, all that luck'll officially run out."
The larger wolf waltzed to the cell door, the rhino guard following behind. He let out an all-too-cheery "Too-da-loo!" as he shut and locked the door behind him.
This left only the tied up fox, bathed in the solemn darkness of his prison. Hardly any light broke through the blackness of this windowless room, forcing Robin's sharper eyesight to kick in. The cell itself was empty, nothing more than a hollow, miserable corner in the crooked Prince John's abode. He had nothing to do except squirm and struggle in his terrible ropes.
And squirm and struggle he did. His teeth gnawed down at the gag, a gag that squeezed his head so unnecessarily tightly and dried his throat more and more with every passing second. He kicked his bound legs to try and loosen the new ropes around them, just seeing if it did anything to help. His paws wrenched themselves about, his shoulders unable to shift or tense up any more than they already were.
But it all led to nothing. And after minutes of useless flopping and floundering, Robin found himself collapsed onto his back, taking heavy breaths of the filthy, stench-filled air in and out of his nose.
Today wasn't supposed to end like this. He had his sights set on that archery contest and, more importantly, a kiss from his beloved. Not watching her sob as he was dragged to await a cruel, degrading death. Not having to all but lie to children who looked up to him by assuring them that he'd be okay. And not watching his best friend be chased off, hunted, and forced on his own.
The thought of his friend caused a choked sigh to escape the strangling cloth. Little John, I only hope that you've gotten away … for my sake as well as your own.
As he lay there, the fox felt many emotions swirling in his mind. But one that surprisingly didn't come to fruition was regret. Even if the path of his life had led him here, even if it was nearing its end - which Robin refused to accept - he couldn't say that he'd do things much differently had he a second chance. He became the wanted outlaw he was to benefit those who needed someone watching out for them, regardless of how many enemies it created for him. Doing such good made him feel like he was making a difference, even if it was as trivial as giving a small child but a single meal to get through another night …
The courtyard of Fort Locksley was always a pleasant spot, even in the autumn where the trees above it glowed with a fiery warmth to banish the coming frost.
But Robin, ever the adventurer, could never help staying there.
It had seemed the strangest thing; since that sunny summer's day, he could not even think of running around and play-fighting the courtyard like he once did, instead seeking to explore the forest and its beauty. Winstone practically had to pry his little brother down from one of the taller trees a few days past, though of course he understood why. It was the perfect spot from which to view humble Nottingham's castle ... particularly the draped windows of one of its towers.
Robin continuously insisted that it was all for friendship, that he had simply never had a friend like Marian to inspire and elate him. After quieting the immature snickers of the servants, Winstone agreed that Robin was righter than he knew.
Young Robin had not been to town often, kept inside by his family's fort for much of his few years of life. And so, he was utterly amazed by the people within it. The blacksmith's hammer at his forge striking seething steel and sending sparks across the sand, the fruit merchant offering the finest of the forest's bounty, the weavers with their looms working wonders out of wool. It seemed so impressive to him the duties that these people had, like a whole little world away from his home.
It was not as if he was unfamiliar with work. Robin had seen his father and brother's servants around Fort Locksley, and quite enjoyed talking with them, even helping them out if they needed it. In kind, the servants always took great joy in the presence young future lord, chatting and playing with him when his father and brother could not.
Robin recalled those days when he could not help but want to ask question after question about what everyone in the humble little town was doing; the bakers, the farmers, the millers, the cobbler, and even the resident holy man and partial tutor to young Marian, the jovial Friar Tuck. Winstone had taken his little brother to meet the holy man to both further the lad's studies and give Robin a chance to spend more time with his new friend.
Robin was happy to help the Friar in all his requests, whether it be cleaning the pews, lighting ceremonial candles, or more often than not, loading up great heavy sacks of supplies for Tuck's charity work. It was that work in particular that Robin loved. It not only made his growing body strong, but it truly strengthened his heart above all else.
Robin could remember more and more as he walked through the humble town, how the magic and wonder it possessed would seem fainter and fainter, its vibrant colors more and more muted by the ever-growing hardships of the peons. And yet, whenever he would make them smile for his kindness and generosity, he could not help but, for a moment, see that warmth and color that he knew as a boy light up his darling town again.
When he was far younger, he could not help but ask, in his innocence, why everyone was poor and why his father could not use his wealth to help. Winstone, perhaps more hurriedly than he should have, simply explained to Robin over dinner one night that he just needed to have more faith in the crown and that King Richard would set things right in time.
Lord Locksley preferred, however, a slightly more personal approach, meeting the youth later that very night and offering his sage advice in private.
“There will always be those less fortunate, Robin. It is just the way of things. It is not fair by any means, but you cannot save everyone. If you give all your coins away, you yourself will be left with nothing in kind. And Nottingham's need for coin will take more than a single lord's son to fix. The most we can do is try to help where we can, and try to show kindness and compassion to the peasants. They go through such hardship; we might as well try to not make their lives more miserable.”
When not dwelling on these challenging questions, his thoughts were half-clouded and half-driven by the gracious silhouette in the church's window. Whenever he had a free moment, he would spend it with Marian, chatting happily with her, joking and singing all the way. Friar Tuck sometimes could not help but watch them take their lunch to the gardens and sit in the tall grasses upon a thick blanket. It always made him beam with joy how the pair would laugh and playfully joke back and forth with each other.
The two gradually grew older, as children do, until they all but shedding off the last illusions of childhood as the years flew by like leaves on the wind.
Robin was just a few years shy of squiring age. And he knew at last - or perhaps he had always known - that deep down, his feelings for Marian meant more than just friendship. It was like waking from a dream, that sudden realization of what his father, brother, and it seemed all of Nottingham, knew, and what would make them smile at and fawn. The pair had been none the wiser, as children often were in such matters.
But there was no denying it any longer. Robin of Locksley was in love, and had been for many years.
The calling of a soft voice then caught lad's attention, breaking him out of his daze.
“Alms, please, sir? Alms?”
Robin turned around to catch the most lovable and saddening sight he'd ever seen. It was a young raccoon girl who had slowly made her way to him. She creased the dirt that caked the fur of her cheeks, dirt that had spread to the tan, hastily stitched tatters barely functioning as clothes. And yet she wore a pleasant smile, appearing as though none of it soured her spirits in the slightest - at least somewhat of a façade, Robin suspected.
The todd smiled brightly and knelt down, gently patting the kit's forehead and causing her smile to widen. Reaching into his coin purse, he withdrew a pair of gilders and placed it into the tot's hands.
"Here, little one. This should be more than enough to buy a decent loaf of bread with," he said warmly.
It was a sight to behold when the girl's eyes grew so wide, her face so bright, that Robin wondered if she believed this donation capable of purchasing a castle. The tyke rushed forward to wrap her little arms around the fox's waist, burying her head in his stomach.
"Thank you, good sir. Thank you," she said.
Robin rubbed her shoulder, expressing a fond "You're welcome."
Young Robin Hood had done good before, and knew the fuzziness that blossomed within oneself when performing such acts. But never had he seen firsthand the impact that it could have one another, let alone one so young, one having so much life left to live and yet being dealt such an unfair start to said life. How many more citizens were in a similar state? And how long would it take for their poverty to end?
He thought back to Locksley's words to him all those nights ago. "The most we can do is try to help where we can, and try to show kindness and compassion to the peasants."
Where we can, Robin thought. But who's to say what that entails?
Robin Hood (1973) belongs to Disney.
After many months, the second chapter of this fic is finally here! (As well as my first brand new upload on this new FA account.) As with Part 1, this chapter was written by myself and AchromaticStallion . I did the stuff in the present and the final few paragraphs of the past, while Stallion did the rest. Going forward, I'll be tackling this fic solo, but I thank him for not only his contributions, but for also being the inspiration for this story to begin with!
I also started my internship on Monday, and so these past few days have not only been busy with so much to learn and such full days, but I've ended each day tired out and not wanting to spend much more time on a computer. So apologies for being absent in this stretch, but I'm slowly getting used to the routine.
As for the next chapter, it will not take nearly as long to come out. My next task is to write and finish the oneshot TLK fic of Kiara that I announced earlier. After that, I'll get to work on Part 3 of this tale.
Anyways, I don't have much more to say here, except enjoy this continuation!
Through said courtyard and into the castle's entrance, Robin Hood was being dragged along by one guard and the Sheriff, both handling his leash. Prince John and Sir Hiss were following right behind them, the former having a spring in his step at his merry victory. Though the odds of him escaping were almost nonexistent, Robin Hood found himself twisting and yanking himself wildly in his bonds as he was walked through the halls of the castle. The pulling of the leash combined with the momentum from his efforts ended up putting the fox on one knee, and in this position he planted his feet into the stony floor of the castle, trying and halt his captors' progress. But his feet and knee just ended up continuously dragged across the ground, causing Robin to clench his teeth at the scraping and subsequently struggle even harder, grunting loudly in his exertion.
Nonetheless, he was still helpless as the guards reached Prince John's throne room. They thrust Robin forward like a bag of useless belongings, and he was unable to break his fall as his face planted hard against the ground. He grunted softly as his paws sprawled weakly in their ropes.
"If you don't quit givin' us trouble, boy, I'm gunna give you a premature execution. Got it?!" said the Sheriff, who was still holding the leash and clearly fed up with the resistance of his outlaw captive.
Robin got back up onto his feet once more and simply scowled at the wolf. "Really, now? Why, I'll bet I could take you down even tied up!" he barked.
The Sheriff narrowed his eyes coldly in response, matching Robin's own glare as the two stared each other down resentfully.
They were interrupted, however, by a familiar voice.
"Stop this! Prince John, please, let him go!"
Maid Marian had been following the guards the entire way up, constantly pleading for the prince to not treat Robin so horridly. She was currently trying to force her way through the many burly guards standing in between her and the captive outlaw. She didn't care if it was futile, or if her cries fell on deaf ears; she had to try anything for him.
But at this point, the lion prince had had enough of her annoyance. He plugged his fingers in his ears and moaned childishly in annoyance.
"Oh for heaven's sake! Will someone please get this sniveling woman out of here before my eardrums burst?!"
One of the guards closest to her obliged, happy to do so given his own irritation. He firmly grabbed the vixen by both arms, his massive hands completely obscuring them and squeezing her painfully.
As he began pulling her away, Marian shrieked in disgust. "AAGHH! Unhand me, you knave! Robin! LET ME GO!! ROBIN, NO!!!"
"Marian!" Robin shouted, disgusted by how rough they were to her. "That's no way to treat a lady, John!" he shouted to the prince.
John merely chuckled at his anger. "Now now, boy. She'll simply be removed long enough for us to decide what to do with you," he replied with a chortle.
He strolled up to his captive vulpine with a sneer and tucked a finger under his chin. Robin's ears pulled back as his gleaming gaze was forced into the ruler's callous eyes.
"I really don't know what a lady of her stature sees in such a lowlife. Why, she can have any male suitor of her choosing … perhaps not anymore, what with the damage she's already done to her own reputatio- YOWWWCH!!!"
The ever-mischievous Robin had taken the opportunity to bite down on John's finger. It wasn't going to do him any favors, but he wasn't going to stand there while some hack prince besmirched Marian's good name.
Prince John shook his finger in pain, covering it up with his other hand and cradling it like it was about to fall off. "Someone get me a bandage, NOW!!"
A guard took off at his king's request, not realizing that his majesty wasn't even bleeding.
"You miserable little rat! Just for that, I'll make sure you die twice as much!!"
"Uh, sire?" Hiss interjected. "I don't believe that's possib-"
"SILENCE!!" John screamed, and Hiss recoiled in fear of the ill-tempered lion.
Robin Hood rolled his eyes and shifted his coiled up arms again, only for the Sheriff to tug at his leash to interrupt his efforts. "Enough of that, prisoner," the Sheriff scolded. "You ain't going anywhere, so just settle yourself down."
"What's the matter?" Robin barked. "Afraid to face me like a real man? Why don't you untie me so we settle this the old-fashioned way!" The fox knew he was poking the bear - well, the wolf - but his inner rebel wouldn't allow him to keep silent despite his vulnerability.
Unfortunately, Hiss had different plans, growing weary of their captive egging everyone on. "Sire, could we please silence this annoying fellow?"
The Sheriff spoke up at this. "Oh, I got somethin' for him."
With a smug grin, he grabbed a thick, white hanky out of his back pocket, stretched it out, and approached Robin from behind. As the fox pieced together what was about to happen, he instantly shook his head and prepared to speak out against it.
"You-nnngggh!"
And yet the do-gooder was cut off as the cloth was shoved in his mouth. He instantly recoiled at the invasive material and tried to shake it out. But with the fabric jammed deeply between his teeth, the wolf yanked it back hard, before tying it in a painfully tight knot at the back of Robin's head. The result was a highly effective gag that dug into the corners of Robin's mouth, thick enough to prevent his lips from touching.
"Rrrgh! Nrrrmrph!!" Robin grunted as he violently tossed his head around, trying to rid his mouth of the foul material. Judging from the rotten, overpowering taste, it had clearly been used semi-recently, making the insult even greater.
His efforts were in vain, however, as it held on securely and kept his jaws in this uncomfortable position.
"Hehehe, not such a big talker now, are ya?" the Sheriff said mockingly. Robin's eyes narrowed deeply as he snarled softly through the gag and squirmed feebly.
"Yes, now then," Prince John intervened. "With that out of the way, let's discuss the matter of how dispose of this rat."
"I say we hang 'im in front of his sweet old Marian," one of the guards spoke up. "Let the last thing he sees be the lovely girl weeping for her poor man," he said, all too sadistically, bringing his voice to a pathetic whimper and miming wiping away tears.
"Hmm! Rmmrnnhrr nnnrm mmphnn!" Robin snarled out as he tugged furiously at his bonds, but his defiant statement was stifled by the gag. You don't dare play with her pure heart like that!!
"Well, I certainly would want to watch something so delicious. Show that vixen what happens when she behaves so foolishly," Prince John admitted. "However, it is not enough!" he exclaimed, pounding his fist in the air. "I want everyone to see him at his lowest! I want him humiliated! Tossed around like the worthless scrap of meat that he is!"
"Rrrrnhh mmrrrrg!" Robin garbled uselessly, his silky-smooth voice reduced to an indecipherable mess.
"Sire, if I may …" Hiss chimed in. "I don't believe we should risk keeping him alive any longer. We're simply opening up a chance for things to go wrong. Let us just kill him now and be done with it, shall we?"
As usual, he tried to be the voice of reason for the childlike king, doing his duty as faithful advisor in the lion's many lapses of judgement. It proved ever so difficult when John constantly refused to listen, but Hiss still felt obliged to say his piece.
However, as usual, the lion prince stubbornly refused heed his friend's advice.
"And let him get the last laugh in front of the townspeople? Never! I'll forever be the laughing stock of Nottingham!"
"Now hold on there, Prince," the Sheriff cut in. "I've been talkin' to some of my buddies here and there, about all the hubbub and ruckus this outlaw's put'em through," he nodded his head to the still-squirming vulpine. "And among the many fantasies they've had to gettin' their just desserts, we've tossed around the idea of using ol' Robin here," he tugged the collar, eliciting a muffled grunt from the gagged fox, "As target practice. Why, I say we do just that! Invite all the folks in the land to another archery contest. Only this time, it'll be for the honor of killing our no-good prisoner here." He finished his proposal with a head turn and sneer to the helpless Robin Hood.
Such a fate would indeed be humiliating for the suave, heroic outlaw, having achieved daring, legendary feats in his "career", only to meet his end as a plaything for crooked archers. But even worse than that, he didn't think he could bear Marian, or those poor children, seeing him in that state as his final moments. It would surely destroy their spirits. Robin once again struggled furiously, twisting and wrenching himself in all directions, feeling the thick, overpowering cords crush his slender upper body. But they enveloped his arms in a way that halted their movements in nearly any and all directions. When factoring in his leash as well, it all rendered the fox famous for his physical prowess suddenly powerless.
"Mmmnnnph mmmnnn, Phrrmmph!"
As the Sheriff watched amused at his failed struggling, Robin's eyes flared in contempt for this arrogant, slimy creature. Why was the wolf so content to hold power over others, so apathetic to those he stepped over as he served his corrupt master? And why was it that such apathy and corruption found itself dominant over those more deserving and innocent so often? He'd seen it for years, ever since his youth; the state of Nottingham seemed to depend on the charity of those who could barely sustain themselves, rather than those on top whose duty it was to provide such coin. But really, how could one be so surprised when men like these held that power?
Throughout Robin's squirming and musings, the prince thought his sheriff's idea over, stroking his chin with a finger and thumb. As the seconds passed, what was once a pondering frown gradually curled up into a devious, arrogant grin filled with awe and wonder. He brought his paws to rub against one another, and it became clear to all that the more he thought about it, the more he approved of the concept. And the more Robin's ears pulled back at the dreadful realization of what was to befall him.
Hiss also saw the prince's unspoken decision. He, however, was still unconvinced. "Sire, I must insist. We must finish this immediately before it's too late. You know how tricky this fox can b-mmmn!"
Prince John cut his assistant off by rudely clamping two furry fingers around his jaws, not even bothering to look at the snake's unamused expression.
"I see your point, dear friend, I really do. But I must take a stand with this. I must prove that I am a king to be worshipped, to be feared! And what better way to prove it than to make an example out of this criminal? No one in Nottingham, nor beyond, will ever cross me, lest they seek the same fate as their precious Robin Hood!"
Robin's glowering eyes shrank down to slits. By now he had fully straightened his legs and held himself high, trying to maintain what little dignity he currently had. But as the would-be king spoke, his poised demeanor giving way to indignation, anger, and fear (though he wouldn't admit to that last one). He growled behind the filthy cloth, not even needing to pull his lips back into a snarl as the gag did the job already.
"It is decided, then!" Prince John said, despite no other verbal agreements. "Robin Hood is to face execution by contest! And the winner will receive a reward worthy of … well, not a king, as only I get that honor. But it will be something, I can assure you!"
The dastardly lion made his way back to his throne, and sat down comfortably. "Spread the word across the land," he ordered. "Anyone who wishes to claim this kill shall be welcome! The end of Robin Hood lies in their hands!"
Everyone in the room besides Hiss cheered a loud "Huzzah!" at the declaration, each of them raising their fists into the air triumphantly. Unfortunately, the Sheriff's pumped fist was the one holding Robin's leash, and so the fox found himself dangling a few inches off the ground by his neck.
"MMMRRPH!!" As he felt the collar suddenly digging into his throat, Robin desperately kicked his legs out in the direction of the crooked wolf, writhing as his skinny body was spun around in the process. The Sheriff just held him out a few feet away in amusement, watching cockily as the outlaw's feet failed to make contact with him.
"RRRRNNG!! HRRRRNN!!"
"Oh yes, in the meantime," John stated as he saw his prisoner's struggling. "Toss him into the dungeon. And be sure that no one sneaks in to save him. And no one nears his cell unless under order."
Happily obliging, the Sheriff and an unnamed rhino guard were quick to pull Robin away through the throne room's entryway. Much to his irritation, Robin just caught the wicked prince offering him a sarcastic wave farewell in his last glimpse of the room.
Robin sputtered and grunted into the gag, twisting himself in a frenzy as his captors kept pulling him with cruel apathy. His resistance frequently knocked him off his feet, legs often left dangling behind him as he was dragged along. But even when he was able to firmly plant them into the hallway floors, it did no good to slow himself down.
His captors eventually arrived at a row of dank, mucky cells that made up the castle's dungeon. The pungent odor was just prominent enough to get under the fox's skin, and unfortunately he had no means of escaping it with his nose the only way he could breathe. Barely any sunlight was able to escape the desolate area, and clearly no upkeep had been received in quite some time. After all, why put in the effort to spruce up a place meant for John's enemies? It tore at Robin's heart how many innocents must have ended up unjustly trapped down here for any possible number of days or months.
And now he was to become one of them.
The vulpine's melancholy thoughts were cut off as the Sheriff roughly shoved Robin's smaller back into the farthest cell from the dungeon entrance. The fox landed on his side with a painful thud and a muffled yelp. The guard undid Robin's collar, and the outlaw instantly scrambled up onto his feet with that one major restriction now gone. He charged for the cell door, hoping to wriggle his way around his captors and make a break for it. But the bulky thugs were quick to knock him back down, and the rhino was easily able to pin the skinny fox down. The Sheriff then got out more rope and, despite Robin's persistent kicks, was able to easily tie the fox's flailing ankles tightly together, rendering him even more helpless.
"Nirrrgh, rrrnnn hemmmph!" Robin yelled.
The Sheriff got back up after he tied off the brutal knot at Robin's feet. He then watched as the bound and gagged hero proceeded to kick his restrained legs out at the wolf, of course missing pathetically. He shimmied and jutted his orange-furred legs and knees aimlessly, but these new ropes were just as well-tied as the rest of them.
With little else he was able to do, Robin Hood launched himself to sit up on the mucky dungeon floor. He gave a firm, defiant glare at the two, his brows furrowed angrily, nose heaving in and out threateningly. But it only caused the two to snicker.
"Oh no! I'm so afraid of the big, strong Robin Hood! Someone save me, please!" the Sheriff said overdramatically, causing Robin to roll his eyes and groan in annoyance.
"Face it, boy. You've gone and pushed your luck too far. And come event time, all that luck'll officially run out."
The larger wolf waltzed to the cell door, the rhino guard following behind. He let out an all-too-cheery "Too-da-loo!" as he shut and locked the door behind him.
This left only the tied up fox, bathed in the solemn darkness of his prison. Hardly any light broke through the blackness of this windowless room, forcing Robin's sharper eyesight to kick in. The cell itself was empty, nothing more than a hollow, miserable corner in the crooked Prince John's abode. He had nothing to do except squirm and struggle in his terrible ropes.
And squirm and struggle he did. His teeth gnawed down at the gag, a gag that squeezed his head so unnecessarily tightly and dried his throat more and more with every passing second. He kicked his bound legs to try and loosen the new ropes around them, just seeing if it did anything to help. His paws wrenched themselves about, his shoulders unable to shift or tense up any more than they already were.
But it all led to nothing. And after minutes of useless flopping and floundering, Robin found himself collapsed onto his back, taking heavy breaths of the filthy, stench-filled air in and out of his nose.
Today wasn't supposed to end like this. He had his sights set on that archery contest and, more importantly, a kiss from his beloved. Not watching her sob as he was dragged to await a cruel, degrading death. Not having to all but lie to children who looked up to him by assuring them that he'd be okay. And not watching his best friend be chased off, hunted, and forced on his own.
The thought of his friend caused a choked sigh to escape the strangling cloth. Little John, I only hope that you've gotten away … for my sake as well as your own.
As he lay there, the fox felt many emotions swirling in his mind. But one that surprisingly didn't come to fruition was regret. Even if the path of his life had led him here, even if it was nearing its end - which Robin refused to accept - he couldn't say that he'd do things much differently had he a second chance. He became the wanted outlaw he was to benefit those who needed someone watching out for them, regardless of how many enemies it created for him. Doing such good made him feel like he was making a difference, even if it was as trivial as giving a small child but a single meal to get through another night …
The courtyard of Fort Locksley was always a pleasant spot, even in the autumn where the trees above it glowed with a fiery warmth to banish the coming frost.
But Robin, ever the adventurer, could never help staying there.
It had seemed the strangest thing; since that sunny summer's day, he could not even think of running around and play-fighting the courtyard like he once did, instead seeking to explore the forest and its beauty. Winstone practically had to pry his little brother down from one of the taller trees a few days past, though of course he understood why. It was the perfect spot from which to view humble Nottingham's castle ... particularly the draped windows of one of its towers.
Robin continuously insisted that it was all for friendship, that he had simply never had a friend like Marian to inspire and elate him. After quieting the immature snickers of the servants, Winstone agreed that Robin was righter than he knew.
Young Robin had not been to town often, kept inside by his family's fort for much of his few years of life. And so, he was utterly amazed by the people within it. The blacksmith's hammer at his forge striking seething steel and sending sparks across the sand, the fruit merchant offering the finest of the forest's bounty, the weavers with their looms working wonders out of wool. It seemed so impressive to him the duties that these people had, like a whole little world away from his home.
It was not as if he was unfamiliar with work. Robin had seen his father and brother's servants around Fort Locksley, and quite enjoyed talking with them, even helping them out if they needed it. In kind, the servants always took great joy in the presence young future lord, chatting and playing with him when his father and brother could not.
Robin recalled those days when he could not help but want to ask question after question about what everyone in the humble little town was doing; the bakers, the farmers, the millers, the cobbler, and even the resident holy man and partial tutor to young Marian, the jovial Friar Tuck. Winstone had taken his little brother to meet the holy man to both further the lad's studies and give Robin a chance to spend more time with his new friend.
Robin was happy to help the Friar in all his requests, whether it be cleaning the pews, lighting ceremonial candles, or more often than not, loading up great heavy sacks of supplies for Tuck's charity work. It was that work in particular that Robin loved. It not only made his growing body strong, but it truly strengthened his heart above all else.
Robin could remember more and more as he walked through the humble town, how the magic and wonder it possessed would seem fainter and fainter, its vibrant colors more and more muted by the ever-growing hardships of the peons. And yet, whenever he would make them smile for his kindness and generosity, he could not help but, for a moment, see that warmth and color that he knew as a boy light up his darling town again.
When he was far younger, he could not help but ask, in his innocence, why everyone was poor and why his father could not use his wealth to help. Winstone, perhaps more hurriedly than he should have, simply explained to Robin over dinner one night that he just needed to have more faith in the crown and that King Richard would set things right in time.
Lord Locksley preferred, however, a slightly more personal approach, meeting the youth later that very night and offering his sage advice in private.
“There will always be those less fortunate, Robin. It is just the way of things. It is not fair by any means, but you cannot save everyone. If you give all your coins away, you yourself will be left with nothing in kind. And Nottingham's need for coin will take more than a single lord's son to fix. The most we can do is try to help where we can, and try to show kindness and compassion to the peasants. They go through such hardship; we might as well try to not make their lives more miserable.”
When not dwelling on these challenging questions, his thoughts were half-clouded and half-driven by the gracious silhouette in the church's window. Whenever he had a free moment, he would spend it with Marian, chatting happily with her, joking and singing all the way. Friar Tuck sometimes could not help but watch them take their lunch to the gardens and sit in the tall grasses upon a thick blanket. It always made him beam with joy how the pair would laugh and playfully joke back and forth with each other.
The two gradually grew older, as children do, until they all but shedding off the last illusions of childhood as the years flew by like leaves on the wind.
Robin was just a few years shy of squiring age. And he knew at last - or perhaps he had always known - that deep down, his feelings for Marian meant more than just friendship. It was like waking from a dream, that sudden realization of what his father, brother, and it seemed all of Nottingham, knew, and what would make them smile at and fawn. The pair had been none the wiser, as children often were in such matters.
But there was no denying it any longer. Robin of Locksley was in love, and had been for many years.
The calling of a soft voice then caught lad's attention, breaking him out of his daze.
“Alms, please, sir? Alms?”
Robin turned around to catch the most lovable and saddening sight he'd ever seen. It was a young raccoon girl who had slowly made her way to him. She creased the dirt that caked the fur of her cheeks, dirt that had spread to the tan, hastily stitched tatters barely functioning as clothes. And yet she wore a pleasant smile, appearing as though none of it soured her spirits in the slightest - at least somewhat of a façade, Robin suspected.
The todd smiled brightly and knelt down, gently patting the kit's forehead and causing her smile to widen. Reaching into his coin purse, he withdrew a pair of gilders and placed it into the tot's hands.
"Here, little one. This should be more than enough to buy a decent loaf of bread with," he said warmly.
It was a sight to behold when the girl's eyes grew so wide, her face so bright, that Robin wondered if she believed this donation capable of purchasing a castle. The tyke rushed forward to wrap her little arms around the fox's waist, burying her head in his stomach.
"Thank you, good sir. Thank you," she said.
Robin rubbed her shoulder, expressing a fond "You're welcome."
Young Robin Hood had done good before, and knew the fuzziness that blossomed within oneself when performing such acts. But never had he seen firsthand the impact that it could have one another, let alone one so young, one having so much life left to live and yet being dealt such an unfair start to said life. How many more citizens were in a similar state? And how long would it take for their poverty to end?
He thought back to Locksley's words to him all those nights ago. "The most we can do is try to help where we can, and try to show kindness and compassion to the peasants."
Where we can, Robin thought. But who's to say what that entails?
Robin Hood (1973) belongs to Disney.
After many months, the second chapter of this fic is finally here! (As well as my first brand new upload on this new FA account.) As with Part 1, this chapter was written by myself and AchromaticStallion . I did the stuff in the present and the final few paragraphs of the past, while Stallion did the rest. Going forward, I'll be tackling this fic solo, but I thank him for not only his contributions, but for also being the inspiration for this story to begin with!
I also started my internship on Monday, and so these past few days have not only been busy with so much to learn and such full days, but I've ended each day tired out and not wanting to spend much more time on a computer. So apologies for being absent in this stretch, but I'm slowly getting used to the routine.
As for the next chapter, it will not take nearly as long to come out. My next task is to write and finish the oneshot TLK fic of Kiara that I announced earlier. After that, I'll get to work on Part 3 of this tale.
Anyways, I don't have much more to say here, except enjoy this continuation!
Category Story / Bondage
Species Fox (Other)
Size 855 x 1251px
File Size 845.3 kB
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