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The Songbird	By : bloodrosered Category: M through R > Robin Hood Prince of Thieves Views: 2136 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. I intend to make no profit from this story

Chapter List
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Chapter 3
Rosalie was still shaken up by the whole event that had happened the night before. She was a little more on her guard ever since that happened. Of course, there were times men would stare at her, not that she noticed. She was a little suspicious of the Sheriff's cousin, Guy de Gisbourne. He was indeed very lecherous. He would sneak peeks at her while she was cleaning, smiling lecherously with his mean little eyes and rotten teeth.
While she was in the kitchen, preparing the Sheriff's wine. Guy de Gisbourne appeared, leaning demurely against the wall.
“Hello, little flower,” he said. Rosalie ignored him. “I am speaking to you, do you hear, girl?”
“I hear you,” she said. “I just don't want anything to do with you since you stole me from my home.”
“Well, I apologize. I should have earlier. It was terribly...rude of me.”
Rosalie softened for a moment, but she kept her guard up. “You are forgiven, sir.”
“So...are you happy here with my cousin?” He traced a finger on the wooden table, coyly. “I trust he has been kind to you.”
“I...suppose,” she said, cautiously. “I do miss my father since he died. The Sheriff has been kind to me.”
“Well, that's good to hear. Rose, is it?”
She didn't like this man one bit. Rosalie narrowed her eyes, suspicious. “What do you want?”
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” he said, feigning innocence.
Slowly, he sashayed behind her and in a flash of lightning, he slid a hand down the front of her dress, touching her breasts. Rosalie froze completely, terrified. He groaned softly into her hair; his breath smelled rancid. He nuzzled her hair, smelling it. Oh! It smelled so good! Like a fresh field of flowers.
“You know, you could've been mine,” he said. “I desired you the moment I saw you.” He kept groping her breasts, feeling how soft they were. “Oh! Your tits are so soft...warm and inviting! I would love to get my mouth on them.”
His other hand lifted her skirt and began touching her bottom and her legs. Then he forced his hand between them, just brushing the outside of her intimates. Then, to her horror, he began probe there. His fingers were rough and invasive and his fingernails scratched. She bit her lip and trembled, shutting her eyes tightly with tears brimming, praying it would stop. He groaned again, feeling his hot breath on her neck and a hot, slimy, wetness on it. She realized it was his tongue. She whimpered and recoiled in disgust.
“Ohhhh...so...soft...” he whispered in her ear. His finger slid inside her roughly. “And tight...just the way I like it. I'd like to fuck a beautiful flower like you. Just bend you over this table and fuck your tight virgin c*&t very slowly. It'll be good...you'd like it.”
How horrified and repulsed she was to hear such words! So this was one ravenous wolf her father had warned her about. But, what to do? She was so scared of what he might do to her.
“P-please,” she begged, sobbing.
“Oh, I love a woman who begs,” he groaned. “Begging...just begging for me to release her. But I would hate to spoil my cousin's prize flower. He wouldn't be too happy if I did.”
He removed his lecherous, wandering hands, one of them glistened with wetness. She watched in horror as he put it in his mouth to taste.
Guy de Gisbourne closed his eyes and sighed an 'mmm', savoring the taste of that sweet little innocent's strawberry tart. She tasted so good! He was jealous that his cousin had her. He regretted that he had given her to him. He should've just kept her for himself. But this was much better: coveting something he could never have.
“Delicious,” he said. “So...sweet...and clean. I would love to try that strawberry tart of yours. Just open your lovely legs and devour it. It makes my mouth water.”
She shuddered in disgust.
“But, alas I cannot. My cousin wouldn't like that either. Let's just keep this little secret between us, shall we? He doesn't need to hear about this.”
She felt sick, unable to speak. She shook her head no. He turned and left. She felt so...dirty and used. She was so disgusted that Guy de Gisbourne had the nerve to touch her and speak to her like she was some whore. Is this what all men thought of her: just to be used as some piece of meat? She collapsed on the floor, sobbing and hugging herself tightly.
The cook, Paula, came in and saw the poor girl sobbing on the floor, shaking. She was a plump woman, but was kind. She felt sorry for Rosalie for being forced to live with the Sheriff. Rosalie and her became good friends when she was brought here.
“Are you alright, my child?” she asked.
“I...” she sobbed. “That man...he touched me...said horrible things...”
“What man? Guy de Gisbourne?”
She nodded, her blue eyes brimming with tears. Paula rolled her eyes. That Guy de Gisbourne! He may be the Sheriff's cousin, but he was a disgusting, lecherous dog!
“Oh, that...horrible man!” she said, shuddering in disgust that he would touch a sweet girl like Rosalie. “If he weren't the Sheriff's cousin, I'd spit on him, mark my words! He did the same thing to me when I first came here. Tried to violate me, he did. You best keep pepper in your pocket and rub a little garlic on your neck should he touch you again.” She helped Rosalie to her feet. “Come now, child. Dry those tears. You can't be a weak woman. There's too many men who like taking advantage of us. You need to fight back and not allow them to treat you like that. You're not some whore that they can do whatever they please.”
“Thank you, Paula,” Rosalie sniffled. “You're too kind.”
“What you need to do is find yourself a good man,” she said. “A man who treat you like a queen.”
She wanted to tell Paula about how the Sheriff was kind to her, but maybe she shouldn't. It was good to have a friend like her at least she wasn't alone.
XXX
Sunday had come. The Sheriff allowed Rosalie to attend church. No, he would not deny her that. She requested that she go to confession as well. It was the least he could do for her since she asked for so little and she was so obedient. The Sheriff and Guy de Gisbourne were together. He continued to eye her with such lust and lechery. Thankfully, the Sheriff was between him or else he would've been groping her uncontrollably.
Upon singing, Will Scarlett happened to hear that angelic voice again. This time, he got a good look at her. She was beautiful! The red haired maid he had seen in the Sheriff's castle. Perhaps she was a serving girl to him. She was next to him. She didn't look like one of his whores that he would occasionally parade around.
Once Mass was over, the Sheriff stood up and Rosalie to follow.
“Sir,” she said. “May I light a candle and pray a little more? I'd like to...for my father's soul.”
“Certainly,” he said. “I have business to attend to if you don't mind.”
She went to the candles and lit it, donating what little coin she had. She knelt and prayed, hoping God would take her father's soul to Heaven to join her dear mother. She prayed for her brother. She prayed that God would give her strength to fight off those lecherous men, especially Guy de Gisbourne.
Soon, a young man knelt beside her. She was a little scared, but his eyes were definitely kind.
“Do you mind if I join you in prayer, milady?” he asked.
“No,” she said, softly.
Will stared at the girl: she was indeed beautiful just as he imagined. Her red locks came to her waist, her eyes were so blue like forget-me-nots and her skin so lily white, despite her filth. Her nature was indeed sweet. Her hands were a bit filthy from labor, but still beautiful. She had a ruby ring adorned on her finger, which was strange, being a serving girl.
“Mind I ask what you are praying for?”
“For my father's soul. He has gone and I hope he will have safe passage to Heaven so he may be with my dear mother.”
“I'm sorry for your loss,” he said, sympathetically. “I heard you singing during Mass today. 'Twas...beautiful.”
Though she was suspicious, she had to admit that she was comfortable near this young man. He seemed to have a good soul.
“Thank you,” she said.
“I could've sworn I heard an angel singing just days ago...coming from the Sheriff's castle. I wasn't sure if it was you. Was it?”
“Yes,” she said. “I am a serving girl there.”
“Might I ask your name, milady?” he asked.
“It's Rosalie Tuck,” she said.
Rosalie! How beautiful! Her voice was as sweet as the songbirds when she spoke.
“And I am William,” he said. “You can call me Will, if you'd like.”
Rosalie smiled. She sure liked him. “I once had a brother named Will...he's a friar now. I haven't seen him in years.”
“Friar Tuck?” he asked.
“You know of him?” she said, excited. “Have you seen him?”
“Well, certainly,” he said. “He gives quite a drunk sermon, but he is jolly good fellow.”
Rosalie was excited to hear this news. Too long had it been since she had last seen her dear brother.
“I would give anything to see him again,” she said.
“Perhaps I could bring him to you,” he said. “If...you'd like.”
“The Sheriff allows me to go to confession and Mass,” she said. “He hardly lets me leave the castle.”
“Well, perhaps you could steal away from there...say, you're going to confession...”
She smiled. “I don't want to rouse suspicion, but I suppose I could try.”
“Good.” He licked his lips, nervously. “If you don't mind, I'd like to see you again too.”
She was surprised that he asked this. Raising her eyebrows, she replied, “You would?”
“Yes. I...” he blushed a little. “I must admit that hearing your singing and speaking with you, I've...I fancied you.”
It was her turn to blush. “You speak such words to someone you just met.”
He shrugged. “What can I say? I'm a fool when I'm in love. Would you give me a chance?”
Though she had just met Will, she followed Paula's advice to find a good man. He seemed that way. His eyes were gentle, his soul and heart kind and good.
“Perhaps,” she said, smiling a little.
Though disappointed with her answer, it was better than nothing. He smiled a little, pleased.
Soon, there was shouts in the church and in a flash, a man ran out of the church. Will grabbed Rosalie and dived into the pews, protecting her. How noble that this young man was willing to risk his life to protect her. They ducked down. Rosalie looked up and saw armed soldiers running towards the door. She wondered what was going on.
“Are you alright?” Will asked.
“Yes,” she replied. “Perhaps I ought to go. The Sheriff will be looking for me.”
He looked a little sad that she had to go. “Rose,” he said. “Just...I know you are a serving girl for him, but just a word of caution. I wouldn't trust the Sheriff so much if I were you.”
She had never heard such words about the Sheriff. Sure, he was an honorable man and he treated her like a daughter. “What do you mean?” she asked, furrowing her brows, confused.
“I just think he may not be what you think,” he said.
“He is an honorable man,” she defended, a little insulted. “He has been nothing but kind to me.”
“Sometimes honorable men are not so. They may have bad intentions. You know he taxes the poor, am I right?”
“Yes,” she said; he may have a point: she remembered those soldiers burning her father's home, dragging her father away and his awful cousin kidnapping her. “I will take it in consideration, but I stand by what I believe. His cousin however...” she shuddered, recalling his horrible hands all over her. She was so glad to wash him off of her skin.
“Guy de Gisbourne? Definitely be careful of him, especially. He is just as bad as the Sheriff.”
“The Sheriff can't be that bad,” she said.
“Just...be careful,” he said.
She nodded and disappeared. As he watched her red hair fly back behind her, he sighed. He was a fool in love. She was the fairest maid in all of England. Yet, he felt very sorry for her. She was a fool to believe that the Sheriff was a kind man. He would do anything to get her away from that evil man and his sadistic cousin. Perhaps he could persuade her to leave with him.
Perhaps...a word that gave him only hope...
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The Songbird