The Storyteller

Chapter 23: The Faerie and the Demon

Allan had not slept. He couldn't stop thinking about Djaq. That kiss, that incredible brash and stupid kiss. He would never forgive himself for slipping up like that. He could also not forget the feel of Djaq's smooth lips against his, or the way they had slightly pushed up against his as if fervently denying the action and expecting more at the same time.

No, what was he thinking? Will was his best friend, and Djaq was no tavern wench to be toyed with. At least he had not had to ride out with Djaq back to Robin's camp, for once he was almost glad to be back in Gisborne's service.

Allan ran a hand through his hair as he stood just a few feet away from the manor door, enjoying the cold dawn air. Spring was coming, he could feel the snow slosh under his boots instead of give its usual crunch. That was a good sign, he hated the cold and he hated winter, naturally.

He was startled when he felt someone tap his shoulder. He gave a start and whirled about. “Lynna!” he exclaimed, exhaling in relief, and the woman in question behind him jumped at his reaction as well, “What in hell's name are ya doing out here? An' don' sneak up on a body like that, right inconsiderate of you.” Allan muttered.

Lynna smiled slightly and tugged her shawl about her shoulders. Her face was beginning to flush in the cold air and her breath steamed out around her in smoky wisps. “I saw you from my window. What are you doing out here?”

“Gettn' some fresh air, that's all. Do I have to have an explanation for everything 'round here?” Allan snapped.

Lynna for her part said nothing. She merely blinked up at him in confusion at his sudden turn in temperament. Standing out in the snow she looked even smaller than usual, the slight wind whipped her hair behind her ears, drawing out a few restless locks from the ribbon tying her hair back. “It is cold today, isn't it?” She said conversationally.

“Then why don't you go back inside.” Allan suggesting bluntly.

“Why don't you come with me?” Lynna countered.

“I thought you didn't like me so much.” Allan muttered.

“Oh, I don't.” Lynna remarked with casual innocence.

Allan rolled his eyes at her, but he didn't know whether to laugh or simply be annoyed with the girl. He could hear Lynna give a slight sigh behind him. “What's the matter, Allan?” she asked him.

“Nothin'” Allan grunted.

“Oh.” Lynna remarked awkward silence prevailing for just a minute, “Are you sure?”

“'Course I'm sure. Hey an' since when did it become your business if something's the matter w' me, huh?” Allan asked, pointing wildly at her.

“It's not. I just thought I'd ask. I am sorry for disturbing you.” Lynna said politely and began to shuffle back through the slush-like snow towards the warmth of the manor.

Allan watched Lynna's retreating figure for a moment. He licked his lips, “Hey, hey wait!” he called.

Lynna paused for a moment and turned her head about to peer at Allan over her shoulder. “Yes?” her voice sounded as if a muffled mouse had answered, for the shawl muted her soft voice.

“I have a, uh, question for ya.” Allan said, walking over to meet her.

Lynna looked up in silence waiting for him to go on. Allan kicked at the snow before him, scratching behind his neck nervously. “Now, let's say that there's this man, see, an' he's found himself in a very....sticky situation. He can't stop thinking about this...about...things an' it ain't right at all to be thinking about these...things. What should such a' man do...about...said...things?” Allan finished awkwardly.