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Part 4: The Confrontation

***

A million roads, a million fears
A million suns, ten million years of uncertainty
I could speak a million lies, a million songs,
A million rights, a million wrongs in this balance of time
But if there was a single truth, a single light
A single thought, a singular touch of grace
Then following this single point, this single flame,
The single haunted memory of your face

***

"I wish to speak with the mistress of the house immediately."

Angel stood in front of the gate of Doyle's castle with Liam, breathing in the cold morning air.

"Why are we here, Master Angel?" the boy asked, his eyes curious.

"Because," Angel spoke quietly, remembering his lost friend, "this is my turn to keep the promise, Liam."

Last night, Liam had filled him on the events that took place while he was gone.  After the death of Angel's father, Liam's parents, his loyal parents, had been also killed.  Since then, Liam had lived off scavenging, waiting only for Angel to come back.

To Angel, the world was no longer the same as yesterday.  The simple beauty of the sunlight or the singing of the birds didn't delight him anymore.   The only thing that was left was his vow that he would not rest until his father was avenged.

The Sheriff of Notthingham.  He had killed Angel's father.  Angel felt his blood boil with fury that he could not control.  His fighting days were most certainly not over yet.

But he had something else to do first.

A maid opened a small window and dismissed them, "No more beggars."

"No," Angel answered, "I'm here to see Maid Willow."

The maid eyed him suspiciously. "Her ladyship is not here."

Angel quickly stopped the maid as she tried to close the window. "Relay a message to Maid Willow that Angel of Locksley is here. I'm certain she'd see me."

However, the maid just closed off the window wordlessly.

"I see the hospitality of people has disappeared as well," Angel muttered to no one particular.

Liam quickly spoke, "There have been a lot of attempts to kidnap her ladyship.  After all, she is the only relative of the king left here.   Maid Willow is the only one who shares the food with the poor though. She gave out breads and meat on last Christmas."

Angel felt white rage building him within at the thought that someone had tried to kidnap his little Willow.   He'd never let anyone touch her.  She was the embodiment of all good things that he'd never have again in this world.  Innocence, purity and tenderness. A small smile sipped into his face as he remembered her pouting face.

Although it would most likely kill him to tell her about her brother, Angel looked forward to seeing her again.

Angel was about to knock on the door again and try a new method to persuade the maid, but the door opened suddenly and a voice yelled.

"You, come in, but no weapons."

Angel and Liam shared a look and put down their daggers and swords.  When they tried to go in though, the maid stopped Liam.

"Just you," she said, pointing at Angel.

Angel gave Liam a reassuring smile and walked into the hall of the castle.  It was dark inside, with most of the window closed with thick curtains and only source of the light being a small fireplace on the corner.

The maid instructed, "Wait here."

In the dark, he looked around the place he fondly remembered. That was the place where he'd broken Doyle's china.  Oh, Doyle had been awfully mad at him for that one.  And right by the door he'd seen Buffy for the first...

Buffy.  The thought shocked him.  He hadn't thought of her even once. Granted, he'd a lot of other important things on his mind, but Buffy had been his world.  For some time after he'd left home, all he'd done had been think about Buffy and her golden hair.  But he'd gradually forgotten about her, with all the blood he'd shed and the horror of the battles.  And now, he was back and all he'd thought about was his father...and Willow.

"Who are you?"

>From the balcony of the upper floor, a dark figure asked him.  Angel eyed the feminine form.

"Angel of Locksley. And you are?"

She spoke, her voice low and somewhat husky, "I'm Maid Willow."

"Then show yourself, for we know each other very well."

The shadow moved toward the light and Angel finally saw her.  She was wearing a thick cloak and her hair was covered with a scarf, so that he couldn't see her face very well.  However, from what he could tell from distant, she looked nothing like he remembered.  And to be frank, she was looking...plump.

"My lady, the years have been--" he coughed, "--kind."

Indifferent to what he said or how he acted, she said, "Angel of Locksley is dead. You are not him."

Angel looked up to her, trying to meet her distant gaze, "I am Angel.  Do you not remember me?"

"You must know that there are many outlaws attempting to deceive us.  Leave now."

Why would she not remember him?  "Willow, it is I, Angel.  I'm not leaving. I've sworn to protect you."

"Protect me?" She exclaimed incredulously, "Locksley was nothing but a spoiled bully.  Not that I think you're the one you claimed to be. Besides..."

Angel suddenly felt a sharp edge of a sword at his back.

"...we have all the protection we need."  She disappeared into the dark.

Hell.  The hospitality of his homeland was as warm as the weather now.

The sword nudged him to move forward.

He said in a low voice, "You're so brave against an unarmed man."  He rapidly stepped back to the side and took his attacker's arm.  Putting all his weight forward, he flung the man across the table in front of him.

The attacker, who was covered with a black tunic and a mask, was quickly on his feet again, grabbing the sword.  Just before the sword hit him, Angel guarded himself with a wooden chair, which ended up cut in half.

The man in black was good, Angel admitted.  He certainly knew how to handle the sword well.  However, it wasn't the right time for Angel to be impressed with the swordsman's skill.  As the man approached him, thrusting his weapon forward, Angel frantically looked for some sort of weapon.  There was nothing.

"Liam!"  He called out, hoping the boy would bring in his weapon. Angel heard a faint cry of Liam from outside.  Liam was trying to break the door, it seemed, but it was obvious that by the time the boy got here, Angel was most likely to be dead.

The man pressed onward, and Angel moved away, barely avoiding the fatal edge of the sword.  Knowing he was in a less-than-favorable situation, Angel ducked low and tackled the man with all his weight and pushed him to the ground.

Pressing downward, he kept hitting the attacker's hand to the ground so that he'd lose the grip on the sword. The man under him struggled to fight back. But Angel just shoved the hand to the stone floor hard, finally making the attacker drop the sword.

Then he heard a soft moan under him.

And that voice most certainly wasn't of a man.

Startled, Angel unmasked the attacker.  His vision momentarily exploded with the streaks of rich cinnamon and strawberry, almost blinding him.  Then he found himself staring back into the most stunning green eyes.

A woman?

He inhaled softly. He'd thought he'd seen all the beautiful women in his homeland, but this woman was quite frankly the most beautiful woman he'd ever encountered.  Her pale skin was radiant, translucent almost.  Her red gold hair was rich and soft.  He could even smell the faint scent of sweet vanilla from her.  Her deep emerald eyes glistened and glimmered under the faint light of the fireplace.

One soft word escaped from her rosy lips with a surprise, "Angel?"

Then he realized with bewilderment that he knew who this beautiful woman under him was. (Under, his subconscious noticed.  Under.)

And at that moment, Liam broke in.  "Master Angel!"

And precisely at the moment when Liam began to stare at the scene with his mouth hanging open, two maids jumped out from the back and started to hit Angel with brooms, yelling, "You scum! Get off the lady! Get off!"

He rolled over, trying to block the blows from the maids.   He whispered to the stunned woman who lay beside him, trying his best to look dignified even at this situation.

"Hello Willow.  Would you mind telling your maids to cease this? It's rather bruising my ego."

***

You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we walk in fields of gold

Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold

I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I've broken
But I swear in the days still left
We'll walk in fields of gold
We'll walk in fields of gold

***

The day was beautiful.  The willow tree on the court was offering shade for her, its leaves dancing with the cool breeze.  The sun was high, dissolving the mist that had covered the land in the early morning, warming the minds of the people.

But none of it compared to the beauty of the man standing before her.  Strangely familiar yet exotic, this man overwhelmed other natural beauties around her with his dark mocha eyes and intoxicating presence

But when his words had finally registered, his beauty was forgotten in an instant.

"I'm sorry, Willow."

"Doyle..." She was numb.  She could not think or breathe or feel.

Her brother was dead.

She was trembling slightly.  It couldn't be true.  It couldn't be.

"I am...sorry."  Angel offered his cloak, seeing she was shaking but she declined the gesture.

She managed to make an intelligible sound, "How?"

"When we were escaping the prison.  He was the bravest man I know."

As the numbness withered, a new emotion started to take place in her heart. "How do I know that you didn't just abandon him to save your own skin?"

Angel shut his eyes briefly, then opened them again painfully.  "My lady, I have lost my best friend. If I could have saved him, I'd have done everything to do so."

It was true.  She could see the torment in his eyes.

But Doyle... Her heart broke all over again.  Her brother, her sweet brother. He'd promised.  He had.

Willow took a deep breath. She had to be strong.  She wouldn't break down in front of this man.

"Willow, I am...truly sorry."  He looked pained. "Is there anything..."

She stood up.  "Thank you for your concern, but I can take care of myself and this house."

"I see the Sheriff of Nottingham have overextended himself in recent years." Angel sounded bitter.

"While you and my brother were out playing heroes, the Sheriff took over the control of many lands.  When the lion is absent, it is a fox that runs the country."

He pointed out, "But I see your land is still intact."

Oh, what was this?  Was he accusing her of treachery? Willow turned around angrily. "Because I don't give him any excuses to take it! It is my duty to look out for these people until the king returns."

She tried to flee into the house, furious, but a hand stopped her.

"Please.  I didn't mean to upset you."  He turned her around so she could face him. "I've sworn to protect you. I gave my word."

"Your word?" she cried out, the hollowness of her heart only filled with pain and sorrow, "What good did it do with Doyle? Where was your promise when my brother died? Tell me!"

She stumbled, tears blinding her eyes.  Two strong hands caught her arms as she sobbed, her long-concealed emotions now overflowing.

"Please. Shhh. It's alright."  He extended his fingers to wipe off her tears. "Shhh. Willow. I'm so sorry."

Why, my sweet brother? Why?

"You cannot replace my brother," Willow spoke quietly, now calmed down quite a bit.

She could see the words had stung him like sharp needles. He inhaled, strengthening his grip on her arms. "Even so, Willow, I have my promises.  And this time I will not let down your brother."

Willow stood up, frustrated.  "All I remember of you is as a spoiled brat who used to tease me.  I do not need your help, of all people's, to protect my people."

"Willow. It is a dangerous time--"

She cut him off, "Five years are enough to change the world, you said. You were right, Angel. I'm not a young girl anymore."

He looked at her with his dark eyes. "You're right.  You're not a young girl anymore. Believe me, Willow. If I could turn back and change the decision I've made, I would do it."

He was speaking of the truth, she knew. But she couldn't forgive him just yet.  The news wasn't entirely unexpected.  No matter how much she'd denied it before, she'd known this day might come one day.

But still, she couldn't forgive Angel just yet.  The pain was too great.  "Please, leave. There's nothing you could do for me here."

He was very still for a moment, just standing, watching her.   Then he broke the silence, speaking every word slowly and painfully, "If you resent me this much, then I must leave."

Her heart betrayed the reason, wishing to tell him to stay here with her. But even if she tried to set aside the matter of her brother, there was the Sheriff.  Staying here would only put Angel in danger.  She couldn't have that. She had to make him leave.

"But before, there's one thing I have to ask you Willow.  I came back, only to find my house burned and my father... The only person who told me what happened was a little boy.  How did this...?"

He looked away at the direction of Locksley castle, his eyes grieving.  He was fingering the gold medallion that Willow knew to be Sir Locksley's.

Instantly, Willow felt a pain in her chest.  God, how could she have forgotten about his father?  This man just lost everything he loved.

How could she have only thought of herself?

She spoke softly, hoping she could ease his pain, "Bishop Snyder announced that your father signed the confession. That he practiced witchcraft, believing in false religion."

"No," he spat the word, dismayed. "He'd never have.  If only I have stayed..."

Just looking at his eyes hurt her.  So much pain and guilt buried in those eyes...they suffocated her.

Without realizing it, she touched his cheek to comfort him. "If you've stayed, you've have met the same fate.  But you must remember that your father was the most loyal man. He was proud of his son."

He slowly took her hand and closed his eyes briefly. "Then you do not believe the accusation...?"

"Never. And you should not believe it either."  She smiled for him.

A small smile formed in his face. "Thank you, Willow."  He lightly brushed his fingers against her cheek and lips.  "Thank you."

His eyes were fixated on her, intensely observing her.  And she felt her heart suddenly beating faster.

Flushed, she broke away. "Now, you must leave. If the Sheriff finds out you have returned, he'd do everything to..."

"Be rid of me?" Angel had a smug grin on his face. "He could bring in all the soldiers he has but he still won't be able to remove me from this place. I'm not leaving."

"Ah, I know why you insist on staying."  Willow smiled mischievously. "But I'm sorry to tell you, Buffy is not present here right now. She is with Maid Cordelia. Away."

He blinks.  Hard.  "Buffy?"

"Isn't she the reason you want to protect his place?" She spoke, unable to erase the smile off from her face. "If I remember correctly, there have been many incidents when you made interesting excuses to stay, in order to see her. For instant, one day you've fabricated your 'stomachache' to stay here, only to have your father worry and..."

"Hold there!" Angel was blushing. "Your memory is quite impressive."

"Yes, I remember everything.  So now, please leave before I recite the entire list of incidents."

"But," he leaned close to her, his eyes sincere, "She's not the reason I need to stay. You are."

She realized she wasn't breathing properly.  Their eyes met and for some unknown reason, she found herself drowning in his eyes.

"Master Angel! Master Angel!"

There was something about that boy, Liam, and breaking the moments.

Angel sighed almost inaudibly and looked at her sheepishly. She could only smile at him.

"What is it, Liam?" He turned to the boy who was panting.

"They're coming! Lindsey of Gisborne!  He's coming with soldiers!"

"Gisborne?!" Willow touched his arm and asked, "What is it?"

"Ah.  Well," he looked at her with an impish smile, "I've...had conflict with the Sheriff's men."

Worried, Willow nudged him to go. "You must leave now!"

"I'm not leaving." Angel stood defiantly. "I've made my promise."

"And I'd say no more boyish gestures. Don't be a fool.  Just leave now!"

He looked at her, feigning a hurt look, "Boyish? A fool?"

The sound of horses and yelling were getting louder every second. They were close.

That was it. She had to resort in the last method of persuasion. "You do realize I cannot be seen together with an outlaw?"

With a playful glint in his eyes--just like the one she used to see from him when they were both young--he looked down at her, grinning. "I am *not* leaving."

"Fine, if you want to be that way."  Giving him a sweet smile, she shouted, "Thieves! They're stealing my horse!"

Angel groaned. "Red, so kind."

Resisting a smile, she pushed him to his horse. "You gave me no choice. Now, go!"

Angel looked at her and nodded. "Liam. Get on the horse."

Before he mounted, Willow touched his arm and whispered, "Be careful."

He looked back at her for the last time, seemingly memorizing every line of her face.  "I'll come back."

He rode on with Liam, leaving only a small mesmerizing smile with her.  She watched the two shadows vanishing into the mist, into the dark green shade of the forest.

She whispered to herself, remembering a poem she'd read once, "Like heath that, in the wilderness, the wild wind whirls away..."

A sudden yell brought her out of her musings.  Gisbourne and his men rushed through the gate.  She stood up straight, getting ready to deceive them if she had to.

"My lady, have you been conversing with the outlaw, Angel of Locksley?" Lindsey asked, frowning.

"Conversing?"  Willow answered indignantly.  "He's nothing but a thief. He stole my most cherished horse. I demand to recover what is mine!"

Lindsey straightened up at her commanding tone. "Do not worry, my lady. I'll have the man's head and hang it from the Sheriff's castle wall."

Trying to hide the nausea she felt, Willow gave him her most charming smile. "I appreciate your effort. I do not doubt your ability to recover my horse."

He smiled back, flushing slightly at her smile. "Which direction did he go?"

Willow pointed at the opposite direction from Angel had gone. "There."

Nodding to her, he turned to his men and shouted, "Bring him to me! Dead or alive."

The men quickly rushed to pursue and Willow turned away slowly.  The forest Angel had disappeared into was Sherwood Forest. No one would pursue him there...except the ghosts.

Sherwood Forest, the haunted woods.

She murmured, "Be careful, Angel."
 

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TBC
At this point, I'd really appreciate feedback. To know if this story is worth it or not. :)

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--From "A Thousand Years" and "Field of Golds" by Sting
 

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