We're Almost Free

Chapter 12

A/N: I wanted to post some fluffy ballroom-dancing oneshot or something in honour of my Sixth Form charity ball today   but I had no inspiration whatsoever sooo here's a new chapter. Bit of a filler but every story needs one sometimes, right?

They fell into a routine over the next few weeks. Regina was forced to take the lead - John knew nothing about the woods, having grown up in a large town, and though Roland knew which berries were good to eat she had to be responsible for all of their safety. Now she had two to take care of it was harder, as both had their irritating moments of being completely uncooperative and would sometimes gang up on her. It was well meant banter but she sometimes wished she could give them a good slap and get it out of her system.

When he was cooperative she continued to teach Roland, moving onto letters. She'd write the alphabet in the dirt beside the fire, and give him random spelling tests to pass the time as they walked. John wasn't too good on his spelling either, and Regina took some pleasure out of their improvement as the woods started to thin and the undergrowth no longer seriously hampered them.

Just before the woods petered out, Roland, who'd been running ahead, came scampering back with something scrunched in his hand.

"Mama, I found this on the ground. It's bad to leave things lying around, right?"

"Good boy," she praised him. Straightening it out, she let out an involuntary gasp and scrunched it in her fist again.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. Let's keep going."

She stuffed it into her bag but as they walked she couldn't shake the words on the paper from her mind's eye:

"WANTED ALIVE. REWARD FOR RETURN TO KING LEOPOLD. BELIEVED TO BE TAKEN BY THIS DANGEROUS OUTLAW"

Above the writing was a sketch of her; underneath, one of Robin.

***

They trudged through barren field after barren field, the only sign of life they saw being sheep in a far-off patch and the occasional copse of trees, in which they would usually take shelter for the night. They continued to follow the small stream Regina had found as far as they could, and her bag was now full of meat wrapped in the last remnants of living leaves she could pick from the trees and some kindling for fires. It was getting rapidly colder and they were all tired from the endless walking, so when John stumbled over a rock and reopened his wound from the pirate fight she really began to doubt their chances of success.

That evening, she ripped the cleanest section from the bottom of her dress, scrubbed it as well as she could in the river and bound his leg with it. He fell asleep immediately, faint and worn out, and Regina felt like doing the same but Roland was bouncing on her lap, insisting on a lesson. She wondered yet again where he got all his energy from.

"Mama?"

"You don't have to call me that any more, Roland," she half-told him off. He considered for a moment before twisting round to face her.

"Mama," he insisted. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, darling."

"No you're not. Please smile?" He put his fingers to her face and pushed the corners of her mouth up, giggling at the tight grimace it resulted in. "I believe in you." That made her smile, even if there were tears in her eyes as she hugged him tight.

"Let's go to sleep, Roland. I'll teach you tomorrow."

She was glad he knew she wasn't ok, as he just accepted it, giving her a goodnight kiss before they fell asleep.
It was the small hours when she woke with a sharp pain in her ribs and a dull dread in her heart, the image of Robin lying, bruised, bloody and dying in a ditch on the side of the road burned into her mind's eye. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the nightmare.

"Mama?"

"I'm all right. Go back to sleep."

"I can't. I'm scared."

"There's nothing to be afraid of. I'm here."

"I can hear an animal. It sounds big." The tremor of fear in his voice was very real, so she listened carefully. There was definitely something coming, and the fire had died so there was no protection from any potential predator.

She slithered out from underneath their bush and gave him a leg up into the nearest tree, as high as she could reach without him being in danger of falling off.

"Hold on to the trunk." He knew enough to be quiet as she tried to hoist John up into another tree, his leg making him awkward to move.

Just then, a massive wolf appeared in the clearing, eyes blood-red in the darkness and fixed directly on her. Regina quickly tucked her skirt up and swung herself into the tree with only a second to spare as the wolf snapped at her ankles. She wrapped her arms round John's waist to keep him on the bough, Roland's panicked face looking at her across the clearing as he gripped the trunk of the tree with his little arms and legs, making a clear effort not to cry out. Making eye contact with him she smiled reassuringly, always keeping one eye on the wolf as it sniffed round the bushes they'd been sleeping under.

When it finally slunk off in the direction they'd come she let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Putting her finger on her lips she listened intently until she was absolutely sure there were no more wolves on the prowl. She slipped down as silently as possible, catching John and laying him down. He was either asleep or unconscious, she hoped the former.

"Roland, come on down now."

He was frozen in his position, hands clinging to the bark and legs clamped fiercely round the branch.

"Come on, Roland, I've got you." No amount of coaxing would unfreeze him so she climbed up, gently placing her hands over his to warm and loosen them. He slipped as she prised his hands off the trunk, crying out, but she caught him in her arms. He clung round her neck as she clambered down.

"I've got you. Shh, you're safe." She knew she had to find some sort of house, someone to take them in, or the poor boy would die of fright. She gently dabbed the blood away from his grazed hands using a handkerchief she'd found right at the bottom and miraculously still clean, then wiped his tears away. As she curled up with him again for a last few hours of sleep her thoughts went straight to his father. What would he say if and when she found him, or he her, and little Roland was scarred beyond recognition? Was Robin even alive? Her dream was still fresh in her mind, as vivid as that night in the stable.

It was a cruel, cruel world.