Not for the Faint of Heart

by Lex Croucher

At the time it had seemed important; the fox had become tame enough to take scraps of meat and twists of hide directly from her hand, and putting a hat on him was the next logical step.

So true!!!!!!!!

“Good little lads get hats,” she said, not bothering to talk soft or low; this fox was used to her by now, and would only have been suspicious of a gentle cajole. “Bad little lads too, I suppose. A hat for every little lad, regardless of temperament—that’s my guarantee.”

Clem snorted. “He’s not handsome, Rosie, he’s kidnapping you.” “When you’ve been around for as long as I have, Clemence, you’ll begin to understand that these things are not mutually exclusive.”

Kit was now showing Morgan the flowers and repeating excitedly, “St. John’s wort.” Morgan said, “St. John’s what?” And Kit said, “Exactly!”

Luckily, Clem was ridiculous. She prided herself on her commitment to the absurd.

Looking at him now, Clem wasn’t surprised; she liked to think she was relatively open-minded, but the man was almost entirely frown, and he had a goatee, for Christ’s sake. The calling card of cads and villains!

This, Clem supposed, was what happened when a group went from a fun, ballsy, anarchist autonomous collective to an organized militia, with an official leader instead of an honorary one. People got delusions of grandeur. They put their silly gold pins on and believed that they were better than everybody else.

It was a curse, being so damned observant—so tuned in to the habits and tells of people’s bodies. Some of these Merry Men were just so attractive.

Her own father had loved insects and birds and telling terrible jokes. He’d cheered Clem on in anything she set her mind to, and on the rare occasions they seriously argued, he’d always been the one wiping away a tear. He’d hated conflict; loved Clem.

It was very annoying that no matter how hard you tried not to think about something during the daylight hours, at night, memories had carte blanche to run riot over your brain, feeling fresh and raw even if they’d long been left behind.

Nobody had ever pinned Clem to a tree before. New experiences were good for the soul.

Mariel grimaced. “Is everything a joke to you?” “Is anything a joke to you?” “No,” said Mariel,

“Great name for a musical troupe,” said Clem, carefully re-corking her balm. “Blood and Lavender.

“Ha,” said Baxter. “Holes are exciting.”

Clem ate her bread and watched as Kit offered the rest of his to Baxter, who accepted it with such reverence he looked as if he might be close to tears. Clem wondered if they were perhaps in love, or if it was just that bread tended to bring out those sorts of emotions in people.

Having ascertained that this man would not particularly care about a lost child in the road, using Morgan as bait was out, so they were taking their chances with Josey instead, who, when asked about her angle, had simply said “sexy.”

“You’ll have to double up on beds,” she said over her shoulder, as she left to fetch blankets. She looked so different when she smiled. “Can lodge four of you here, but two will have to go next door.”

There was only one bed!!!!

This was a pointless conversation, but when it ended, they were going to have to go and find this one bed they were supposed to be sharing.

“I can see you,” said Clemence. “I’ve got eyes like an owl. And legs like one too. Have you seen an owl’s legs? They go on for much longer than you’d expect.”

Whatever your guardian has been getting up to back at Oak Vale—” “Giving the village chickens names,” Clem said. “And inventing large-scale dramas between them. Bethel is divorcing Eric.”

Me: what’s a bycocket hat Wikipedia: it has wide brim that is turned up in the back and pointed in the front like a bird's beak Me: oh so a Robin Hood hat Wikipedia: yeah it’s a Robin Hood hat

“Robin and Will—that’s my grandfather—got together before I was born.

I love gay people

a member of the landed gentry

I may be landed gentry, but I’m thrilled to be granted entry!

“You don’t seem very kidnapped,” said Big John, rubbing at his beardy chin. “Yeah,” said Kit. “We’ve all noticed that, actually.”

“Amazing,” said Clem. “Incredible. I love love.”

So true bro! Gay love!

“Just needed somebody to arm-wrestle Clem. Tiebreaker.”

Intricate rituals bro….

Clasping hands was weird. It felt intimate, even with everybody watching. Mariel’s fingers were long and slender, only slightly calloused, probably because she was fastidious about glove-wear when it came to riding and archery.

“What are you doing?” Mariel said through gritted teeth. “Just—play properly.”

She’s doing intricate rituals!!

“Worried?” Clem asked in a low voice. Mariel almost snarled in response, a wild, animal sort of noise that should have been very funny. It mostly made Clem feel a little warm under her shirt. Best not to think too hard about the implications of that, lest it awaken something in her.

This knot was tricky; she was having to get her very short nails involved.

Thank you Mx Croucher I’m really glad to know Clem is ready to have lesbian sex /srs

then Clem broke the odd silence by laughing. “You’re welcome.” “What?” Mariel said, looking as if she’d recently been hit very hard over the head. There were spots of pink scattered across her cheekbones like fingerprints. “I assume you were trying to say thank you. To me. For helping you with your shirt. Not sure it warranted such enthusiasm, but I don’t know the Merry Men customs.”

CLEM WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT WHY ARE YOU SO SILLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Don’t wish for sisters,” she said, pointing her cup at Baxter. “They’re a curse.”

True

She wasn’t entirely sure where all this odd, jittery energy had come from,

Horniness?

“Stop having so much fun,” Josey said to Clem from across the table. Clem lifted her drink in a sort of toast. “No!”

Clem wasn’t drunk, but she was tired and tipsy; she found herself halfway to Mariel’s quarters before she realized that she was fixating on the wrong room number, and had to turn back in search of number sixteen.

Ok but Mariel’s room is 27 so if she’d already passed 16 she would’ve been much more than halfway there 🤔 checkmate liberals

There was a bit of fire in it, more authority than Mariel had ever heard in her voice outside a dire medical emergency. Mariel wanted to test it a little, to see where the boundaries were,

They probably won’t have on screen sex cuz it’s a YA novel but I appreciate all the hints Croucher has been dropping throughout about what their dynamic would be

“Uh, I don’t know. We’re in a hole. It’s hole o’clock.”

So true Clem

“Oh,” said Clem. “Hullo, Morgan. Feeling better?” “No,” Morgan said sullenly. “Because now I owe Josey two coins.” “Two?” said Clem. “You and the captain,” said Morgan. “Kit and Baxter. Ugh.”

“Anyway, there was some fight, some scrape they almost didn’t get out of, and my grandad turns to Robin and says, ‘I can’t fight beside you anymore,’ packs his things and goes to join some rebels pushing back farther south. And Robin was so angry he rode all through the night to find him, gets him at knifepoint and calls him a coward and a traitor, demands to know what it was that pushed him too far this time, and Will says, ‘I was so distracted watching you flick your hair about and fire off arrows in that flirty little way of yours that I almost lost an eye,’ and—”

“He said…” Mariel hesitated, her face scrunching slightly with distaste. “He said he knew that Robin never lost, but he couldn’t be so close, worrying that this might be the day he didn’t beat the odds, because it was too distracting and because … because he loved him.” Such earnest declarations of love were clearly difficult for Mariel, even if they were other people’s. “And Robin said, ‘You’re right. I never lose,’ and then…” “Kissed him,” Baxter said triumphantly. “Gave him a big wet one, right on the mouth.”

There she went again, just asking for what she wanted, like it was the easiest thing in the world. Mariel was awed and appalled by it.

I set a knee that was in about a thousand pieces, cleaned out that wound for weeks and weeks, got the guy back up on his feet, and got paid real coin to do it.

Damn, I knew it 😩😩😩

She might have actually been very lucky. From the placement and angle, there was a good chance that the arrow had lodged in that tiny strip of real estate between lung and liver that was the ideal location for a penetrative wound.

The left side!

It was very hard to prescribe herself a week’s rest though, because unlike everybody else in the world, she was very important and had a lot to get on with that didn’t allow for wound healing.

When she remarked on this to Clem, she just shrugged and said, “Well, you’re very easy on the eyes—that’s important, in a politician,” which was no help at all.

Terrible at asking for help. I seem to remember you inherited a little of that.” Mariel winced. “I did. But I’m trying to do better.” “Good,” said Robin, patting her on the shoulder. “That’s all we can do. Fuck the fascists, and introspect.”

They announced the results the next day. The people voted in favor of dissolving official Merry Men territory. They voted against fighting for the sake of fighting. They voted for going back to their roots, to helping the community, albeit with a little more planning and order than had existed in Robin’s day. They voted, overwhelmingly, for Mariel.

🥺🥺🥺🥺

She had cut her hair shorter, curls on top and sheared on the sides—entirely practical, or so she’d claimed, but Mariel had caught her smirking at her reflection like a freckled Narcissus one too many times for that to be entirely plausible.

I love gay people!!!!!!