Robin wasn't sure which direction he was riding in.
The jostling of Gilroc caused pain to flare up his leg with every racing tread, the wind against his face as he fled as quick as he could from the six companions.
His right trouser leg stuck against his skin, warm with blood. He faintly realized he was losing more than was healthy.
"Gilroc," he gasped, clutching the horse's mane as another ripple of sharp stinging raced up his leg. "Daro."
The horse slowed to a steady trot and Robin slid sideways-- the breath whooshed from his chest as he hit the ground hard, white stars flashing before his vision.
Robin knew the others were likely already in pursuit. He had an hour, maybe two. He doubted any more than that.
Curse them all.
Slowly, Robin pushed himself into a sitting position, reaching down for the small silver knife buried in his calf. It was a few inches long but wickedly curved into flesh.
Robin hadn't quite realized that Elanor hated him that much. Was she aiming for a more fatal area? Or was her purpose just so wound him beyond the point of achieving escape?
"Women," he cursed. "Vipers, all of them."
Slowly, he ripped the end of his cloak, wincing at the sound of the precious elven material tearing. Then he wrapped his fingers around the handle of the blade, closing his eyes tight.
"Just a little tug..." He yanked and bit back a yelp-- Eru, that hurt!
Blood gushed from a small trickle to a hot, much more steady stream and Robin quickly wrapped the strip of his cloak around the open gash, knotting it hard.
Red dots danced before his eyes.
"Gilroc," he clicked his tongue and the black mare pranced over. Reaching up, Robin grasped the saddle, pulling himself to his feet.
His head spun and his stomach suddenly flipped, nausea washing over him in a wave. Gasping, Robin leaned heavily against the saddle, squeezing his eyes tightly shut.
Slowly, the world stopped spinning. Robin took a deep breath and then pulled himself back atop the horse, groaning.
"Let's go, girl," he let himself fall against the mare's back. "Noro lim."
Gilroc started into a quick tread and the pain doubled. Robin ground his teeth together, holding on for dear life.
Never again would he mess with Kings and their precious swords.
Robin stepped cautiously forward, casting the two soldiers a quick glance as the bedroom doors closed at his back.
The room was huge, with pearly white walls and a grand arched ceiling. Across from him, a set of doors opened into a large balcony overlooking the kingdom below.
A man stood on the balcony, his hands folded behind his back as he gazed down at the courtyard. Robin swallowed, fiddling with his servant's clothes once more.
The knife almost felt colder against his skin.
As the doors closed with a slight thud, the man started and turned, his grey eyes falling sharply where Robin stood.
He was tall, dressed in a black tunic bearing the white Gondorian tree. Dark brown hair framed his face, a neatly trimmed beard almost covering his mouth.
King Elessar.
Then he smiled and Robin resisted the urge to glare, instead bowing his head. "I'm here to help you prepare for the feast, your majesty."
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Hood » LotR ((ON HOLD))
Fanfiction❝ Hood. Robin Hood, at your service. ❞ Robin wasn't sure how he managed to get caught in the middle of a war. Perhaps it was stealing King Elessar's sword. Or maybe his past and the price on his head just finally caught up to him. But when Robin's l...
