Week Twenty- Four (March. 23 - March. 28)Topic:Fairy 

Winner: Clare 



Fairy 
By Clare 

The beautiful music seemed to float around the small clearing. Going from a happy and lilting tune to sad and mysterious melody on the whim of the player. The player himself was closing his eyes, his face without an expression other than simple enjoyment. He held his music pipes lovingly, with much care. 

“Fairy-y-y!” called a voice. The music stopped short and the appearance on the young boy’s face changed to a grimace. Not for the first time did he wish he’d been found differently four years ago, when one of Robin’s band had stumbled upon him. Then perhaps his horrible name wouldn’t have come to be. 

Piper Tom had found him. Piper Tom had an ear for music, though he could only play a few songs himself, on his pipe. Therefore, when he had heard a beautiful haunting tune come from deep in the King’s Wood as he was scouting the area, he went to investigate. There he had found a ten year old boy, quite small for his age, with a shock of black hair and white skin sitting in the clearing, playing the sad tune on his music pipes. There was a look of horror and terrible sadness in the boy’s black eyes. Piper Tom had been sure he was one of the Fairy Folk at first, the boy having such small sharp features and such dark eyes and hair, but soon got over his suspicion as he saw the tears streaming down the boy’s face. It was rumored that Fairy Folk did not cry. Finally the boy spotted him and rose silently. Piper Tom, after some time, managed to drag out the boy’s name and why he was here. His parents had just that day been burned to death in their own home, simply for the King’s drunken soldier’s entertainment. Piper Tom brought the orphan back to camp, and there he had stayed ever since. Unfortunately the name Fairy had all but replaced his real name, thanks to Piper Tom who had called him Fairy Boy from the beginning. The others in Robin’s band, even Robin himself, had ever since called him Fairy, or Fairy Boy. 

“Fairy! Get over here and set up this tent!” There were other children in the camp, but he, being the orphan, usually ended up with the most tedious chores. He sighed at the name and got up. Besides the name and the chores, life in Robin’s camp was all together quite good. Good food, and the shelter wasn’t that bad, despite being only tents. They all enjoyed music late at night when the fire was dying out and the beer had been passed around, so he’d been more or less accepted. He wasn’t chosen to do anything exciting like hunt, or the occasional time when Robin allowed one of the boys to ride with him and his men to steel from a passing baron, but that was alright with Fairy. He was happy enough not being cold and starving. 

“Fairy, do you wish to have no dinner this eve?” the voice asked impatiently. 
“Coming!” Fairy answered, walking a bit faster. 
“Fairy, where have you been all the afternoon? When you should have been helping set up camp?” the thick set man, Matthew, asked as soon as he spotted Fairy. “I ought to...” 
“Now, now, Matthew,” came a deep voice. Fairy started and spun around. It was none other than Robin himself. “Can you really blame a boy for wanted to something other than work?” He had a smile on his face, in a kind fatherly way. Robin was many things. Sometimes he was the loving man, who adored his wife, sometimes he was the mischievous man who planned brilliant ways of robbing the King, and then sometime he was the kind and somewhat fatherly figure. Well as fatherly as one can be without children. 
“The boy’s been slacking,” Matthew said shaking his head. 
“Only as much as you,” Robin said with a grin, “Making a young boy do your work.” 
Matthew only grumbled and turned to pound a stake into the ground. 
“Come boy,” Robin directed at Fairy. “Fairy is it? Well Fairy, how would you like to come on a scouting mission with me?” 
Fairy was so surprised that he couldn’t answer for a moment. Finally he was able to say, “Y-yes sir.” 
“Alright well get ready to leave, we should be heading out in a few minutes.” He smiled again at Fairy and turned to leave. 

Ten minutes later, as the sun was setting, Robin, Fairy, and a few other men were on the road riding towards the King’s castle. It was going to be a quick mission, just a check on the guards to see if they had increased since last time, and to determine whether the rumors of a treasure coming into the castle in the next week or so was true. It was all going fine until one of the men noticed something strange. There seemed to be even less guards than usual. No less than an instant later, they were ambushed out of the shadow of the trees. The strange thing was it was over in moments. Two of the three other men who had come on the scouting mission were climbing unsteadily to their feet, and the third was still down, with blood seeping from his chest. Fairy had jumped back into the bushes before the guards had even seen him. He stumbled out now and looked around. One of the standing men we trying in vain to arouse the bleeding man, and the other was staring dazedly around. 
“Aren’t you going to go after them?” Fairy asked his eyes wide and shocked. “They’ve got Robin!” 
The man turned around and seemed to notice him for the first time. “There’s no way we’ll be able to get in now. We’ll have to go back and get the rest of the men, if they haven’t killed Robin already,” the man answered mournfully. 
Fairy just shook his head in horror, backing up at the same time. He turned around and bolted toward the castle before the man could stop him. He arrived at the gate just as it was shutting. He slipped in and stayed to the shadows of the falling night. All around torches were being lit as he looked around quickly at the nearly empty courtyard. Above, on the wall directly behind him, a guard had lit a torch and turned to see him. 
“Boy, what are you doing out at this hour. Don’t make me come down and whip you for disobeying curfew. Get back to the slave quarters where you belong.” 
“Y-yes sir!” Fairy stuttered and ran off to the right. 
“What are you doing boy, that’s to the dungeons, not the slave quarters! Are your brains addled?” the guard called out crankily. 
“S-sorry sir,” Fairy said, spinning around and rushing the other way. He melted into the shadows and immediately made his way back to the entrance to the dungeons, hardly believing his luck at having discovered its location so quickly. He slipped through the opened gate, and stumbled down into the dark, barely lit halls. He heard some commotion leading away from him to his right, and quickly turned to that direction. He had no idea how he was going to free Robin, but he was determined. He stumbled down the halls until he say a brighter lit passage. He slowed down and crept up quietly. 

“Look at little Hooded Robin, all tied up!” a voice called. 
“I spit on you, filth,” said another, followed by the sound of spitting. Fairy’s outrage grew at the way they were treating his well loved leader. He studied the scene before him, noting everything, including the positions of the four guards surrounding Robin, and the torches two of them carried. 
He winced as he saw Robin’s bloodied face, glaring up at his captors. His hands and feet were tied, and he was kneeling before them. There wasn’t much else in the room other than a table on which a rusted plate with some of its edge ripped off from age and large cup sat. There were a few blankets lying on the ground around him in front of a closed prison cell. He grabbed them silently as a plan came to Fairy’s mind. He prayed that it would work as he crawled forward. A second later he threw the blankets on the torches as simultaneously as he could, and he groped for the table. The guards were yelling out in surprise and trying to get the smothering blankets of their light source that would, by this time, already be dead. 
Fairy grasped hard at the jagged plate which ripped his hand open. He ignored the pain and hoped Robin had taken advantage of the darkness and the guards surprise by crawling towards the exit. He hurried as fast as he dared out of the smaller passage into the main one that it led off of. He barreled into a hunched figure who was trying to do the same. In the dim light Fairy could see it was Robin, but Robin, not knowing who it was, spun around and sent Fairy sprawling. 
“Fairy?” came a surprised voice. Robin hobbled over and fell to his knees trying to lift Fairy with his hands tied. 
“Just a moment, sir,” Fairy said urgently, grasping for the plate that had flown from his hands. He managed to grab hold of it and scramble to a crouched position and began to saw that the ropes that held his leader captive. He could hear the guards stumbling after them. After a second the rope broke through and Robin grabbed the plate from the boy’s hand and said, “Run! Get a horse from the stable and go back to camp!” as he hacked at his bounded ankles.Fairy took heed of Robin’s advice and fled. A second later he heard Robin’s pounding footsteps following and then a little farther away the pounding of the guard’s feet stumbling after. He broke out of the dungeons into the moonlight, panting for breath. He bent over to catch his breath and forced himself to stumble on. 
“Boy! I told you...” someone said, but Fairy didn’t hear the rest as the smack he received on the back of his head made him lose consciousness. 

Robin rode triumphantly into the clearing of his camp upon the horse he had stolen from the castle stable on the way out. Men were gathered in the center discussing how they would execute their rescue attempt. “Not looking for me, are you?” he said, his jolly manner back, despite his pounding head. Adrenaline from the close call rushed through his veins. 
The men shouted in surprise and question and joy. How had he escaped?! 
“The boy, Fairy! He came after me and distracted them so we could escape. Where is the courageous boy? I must thank him properly!” 
The men were silent when finally Piper Tom stepped forward and said gravely, “He has not yet returned.” 
Robin’s smile faded into a look of horror. What fate had he unknowingly left the boy to? He remembered the look in the boy’s eyes when he had been cutting away Robin’s bonds. They had been filled with a strange mix of fear and determination. 
“Dear Lord, no,” he said in a hushed voice. He turned the horse around, readying to gallop away. He had to go back for his rescuer. 
“Robin,” came a low voice. Robin paused. It was John, his faithful companion and best friend. 
“Robin, you know that if he is not already dead, he will be by the time we reach him. It is too risky to go and rescue a dead body. You know the logic in this; do not let your heart rule your head. You will end up leading us all to death.” John said, levelly, though Robin knew his friend wanted no more than to rescue the boy himself. He forced himself to stop and listen to the logic. He knew John was right, but it hurt him that the boy who had courageously saved him, should be left to die at his enemies hand. He resisted the urge to ride however, and turned to his men. 
“We must move camp. We cannot trust a child’s mind against torture, no matter how brave the child be.” He said, sadly, and bowed his head in mourning. 

Fairy woke up in the morning chained to the wall of the kitchen by the stove. 
“Get up boy!” said a fat man wearing a white cap of a chef. Fairy scrambled to his feet. “I don’t recognize you boy,” said the man uncertainly for a moment, then he shrugged and said, “No matter, I need more help either way. Up, boy, come on,” he kicked Fairy, even though the boy was already on his feet. Fairy wondered for a moment whether being mistaken for a kitchen slave was a stroke of luck or a fate worse than hell. He was answered when he glanced down and his hoped of escape were dashed. The chain around his leg was long enough to reach every corner of the kitchen, but never reach the gate. Fear filled him, but he was determined to escape one day. 



3 Years Later 

A cloaked figure approached the newest location of Robin’s camp, playing a lilting song on his music pipe. 
“Halt!” came a voice from above in the canopy of trees. The figure paused and broke off the song at the pinnacle of the song. He didn’t lift his hooded head and look up though. He just stood there and waited for the man above to speak. 
“Who are you?” he asked. 
“Hello John,” he said with a slight hint of humor in his voice, “I’m not here to harm anyone.”
“Who are you?” the voice asked again, this time much more tensely. A strange who knew his name was rarely to be trusted. 
“Some call me by the name of Fairy,” the young man answered. 
“Fairy?” the man asked skeptically, wondering why he seemed to recognize the voice and name. Suddenly it came to him and he jumped from the tree, a few other men coming down also. 
“Fairy, is that you?” he asked, disbelievingly. He step forward to the motionless figure and ripped away the hood. No one could mistake the sharply angled pale face, or the shock of black hair, or the deep black eyes. He had changed, grown older, and he had a few faded scares on his face. But that was not all. The look in his eye suggested he knew what it was like to be in pain and to be hungry. But right now he was smiling broadly and tucking his music pipes back in the pack around his belt. 
“I have some information that Robin might be interested in,” Fairy said. “It concerns the floor planes of the King’s castle, among other things.” 
“Then by all means,” John said, thumping Fairy on the back fondly, “Let us seek him out!” 

More Stories from this contest: http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1271...

More stories from Clare: http://www.goodreads.com/story/list/9779...

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