Reckless Paradise [a descendants story]

Chapter Twenty | Protest

Dad had never pushed Quinn on what happened while she was gone. Everything she had told him and had been when she was ready to.

But one evening, when they were sitting on the back porch, he saw her pull a dagger from under her clothing and fiddle with it absentmindedly.

"Do you carry that everywhere?" he asked, his tone light but Quinn could hear the concern.

She did carry it everywhere – hidden under her clothes or stuck in her boot. She shrugged. "Old habits die hard, I guess." The truth was that she did not quite feel safe without some kind of weapon on her. She knew it was silly – no one was going to attack her; she did not have to worry about the Innocents or the Queens or even Maleficent over here. And yet... she felt the prickle of someone watching her and immediately prepared herself for a fight. But she did not want to tell Dad about that. He was worried enough about her as it was.

He watched her closely and then looked back out at the dark forest. "When King Richard returned from the Crusades and took back his throne, I thought everything could go back to normal. Robin got his land back, the rest of us got handsome rewards. But we had been living in Sherwood Forest for years by that time, always ready for a fight, knowing that at any given moment, we could be attacked." He looked back at her. "That fear doesn't disappear overnight, Quinn. It sticks around, in the back of your mind, in the muscle memory and reflexes that you needed over there. In the old habits –" He gestured at her dagger. "– that you just can't seem to break."

Quinn smiled a little and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Does it ever go away? Will I eventually feel completely safe again?"

She did not see it, but there was pain in his eyes at her words. She was too young to be asking questions like that, he thought. But of course, there were younger children than her on the Isle who had experienced the same and more than her. He held Quinn tight to him. "Maybe not entirely, but it shrinks to a manageable size. And reflexes like those aren't all bad. They can come in handy. Remember that time Alex Dale lost his balance during target practice and nearly shot Mark?"

"Uncle Robin had an arrow notched in a split second and shot the arrow out of the air," Quinn remembered. "One of the best trick shots I've ever seen."

"He would not have been able to do that had he not been Robin Hood of the Merry Men," Dad said.

Quinn nodded and they looked out at the forest again.

•••

Resistance to the campaign had picked up after the press conference. Posters were torn down faster than they could put them up. The coverage of their campaign was overwhelmingly negative and Quinn was starting to see how far 'goodness' really went.

A week later, they organized a demonstration outside the palace, hoping to get the attention of the king and queen.

When the guards saw them all marching towards the gates, they tensed and looked around in concern. The head guard stepped forward and approached Quinn.

"What are you doing?" he asked gruffly.

"Staging a peaceful protest," Quinn said calmly. "As is our right."

"It is your right to bother the king and queen while they work?" he asked.

Quinn frowned. "It is our right to criticize our leaders and voice that criticism through demonstration."

The guard looked at her, then at the crowd behind her, holding signs. "Don't cause any trouble," hie said finally and headed back to his post.

Quinn turned back and smiled. "Let's go," she said.