Chapter Text
The annual Wagford Renaissance Fair was one of Danielle’s favorite events anyway. But this year she was extra excited. Courtesy of the new mayor, the fair was hosting an archery contest. Complete with a hefty cash prize and a gold arrow trophy presented by the mayor’s niece.
Danielle had looked up the details, and most unfortunately children could not participate. But she was nonetheless giddy with anticipation. She was sure her friend from the woods, who had been fondly dubbed the town’s local Robin Hood, would be interested in joining. And she was even more sure he would win.
She straightened up her own Robin Hood costume, the feather nearly falling off. In hindsight, she could’ve used something better than Scamp’s cheap scotch tape to attach it.
“Do you think he’s already here?” she murmured, looking at her sister. Annette was dressed like Little John with a brown wooden sword.
“I dunno. You’re the one who met him,” she shrugged. “What makes you so sure he’s coming? Doesn’t the mayor have it out for the guy?”
“Yeah, but he’s Robby Hood!” Danielle protested. “I bet he comes in some kinda disguise. Loser John won’t even know, and he’ll walk away with ALL that money.”
“And the trophy’s presented by Marian!” Collette put in dreamily. She was clad in pink and purple with a long pink veil, meant to mimic the historical Maid Marian. “Oh, I hope he wins and she kisses him and they run away together into the—”
“Kiddos! Try some of this ancient food!” Tramp called from an exaggeratedly long table with a white cloth. Scamp was peering at all the vaguely unfamiliar dishes suspiciously. Danielle skipped over at once.
“I hope ancient means ancient recipes. Not ancient expired food,” Annette giggled. Tramp straightened her green hat.
“If it is, we all got health insurance.”
Annette’s eyes widened. “Annette Adelaide Barkley. Death by expired turkey legs.”
“Oh, it’s not expired, Annie!” Lady called. She was across them, helping herself to what looked like vegetable soup. “It may taste different from what you’re used to. Medieval people didn’t exactly use the ingredients we get from stores.”
“Yeah, why’s there no Jell-o for dessert?” said Danielle, poking at an unfamiliar looking tart. “This is—-oh. Wait, this is kinda good.”
“That’s called a dariole,” Lady explained. “It’s made from cream and eggs.”
Danielle made no response, due to her mouth being full of said dariole. She gave her mom a thumbs up. On her left, Scamp appeared to be scouting the area. Danielle tugged at his sleeve.
“Looking for Angel?”
Her brother blushed and rolled his eyes. “Angel texted that she’s running late. I’m looking for Robin.”
“Aha! So you think he’s gonna show too.”
“Of course he’s gonna show. Probably the easiest money he’s ever gonna make. And his girlfriend’s presenting the trophy.”
“Oh, how romantic!” Collette mumbled, swooning again. “I hope they kiss and they run away into the—”
“Didn’t you already say that?” Danielle began. Collette frowned at her.
“If I keep putting it out there it’s more likely to come true.”
“Oh! Yeah, makes sense.”
A trumpet sounded from the top of a wooden castle turret; decorated to look like stone. From the podium, an announcer called out that registrations for the archery contest were now open and competitors should head over to the yellow tent to the left. Danielle craned her neck to take a good look at the line, and her mother noticed.
“Looking for someone, Danny?”
“Just our local Robin Hood,” she murmured. “Scamp thinks he’s here too.”
“Ah, for the archery contest?”
“Yeah. And I know he’ll win!”
Lady smiled. “You’ve been quite taken with him.”
“He’s awesome!” Danielle said, jumping around. “I like that he helps people. And I don’t like the loser mayor.”
“Agreed, though I would keep your voice down, Danny.”
At the podium, Mayor John was seated on a cardboard throne next to his niece and an older woman, who the Barkley kids knew to be Mrs Kluck, the mayor’s housekeeper and Marian’s personal assistant. Mayor John looked oddly smug. Lady elbowed her husband and gestured towards the podium.
“Someone looks happy over there.”
“Probably defunded another soup kitchen,” Tramp muttered, sipping a glass of mead. It wasn’t really mead. All the food was meant to be family-friendly and the stuff labelled “ale” and “mead” were either ginger ale or decaffeinated teas with food coloring. Much to Danielle and Scamp’s major disappointment.
Lady sighed. “Or cut more of the school budgets. You think he’s gonna stick around for long?”
“Don’t know, depends on our actual mayor getting better,” Tramp squinted carefully at John. “Huh. You know what, he does look a little too smug.”
“Hm?” Lady leaned closer. “Think he’s up to something?”
Tramp frowned and sipped the last of his drink.
“I don’t trust him.”
Danielle had wandered over to a bush near the registration tent, peering out like a hawk. She waved to her family so her parents knew where she was, and continued her investigation. The bleachers were starting to get crowded as more people trickled onto the fairgrounds. Lady tossed her plastic plate into the recycling bin.
“We should find seats soon,” she said to Tramp, who had unashamedly taken 2 more helpings of turkey legs. He nodded, and herded the girls and Scamp towards the seating area. Collette ran ahead excitedly and booked a spot on the front row.
“We can see really well from here,” she said, fidgety from the sugary desserts. “Oh, I bet that local Robin Hood guy wins and he kisses Marian and they run away together into the–”
“That one’s definitely your kid,” Tramp murmured to his wife. Lady looked flabbergasted.
“Me? I wasn’t the one climbing railings while reciting the corniest Shakespeare dialogue ever published–”
“Dad climbed your railing??” Annette interrupted incredulously. Scamp was stifling a peal of knowing laughter and failing miserably at doing so.
“It was a low railing. Don’t worry about it,” Lady said hastily. “Look, the contest’s starting.”
“But your old room was on the second floor.”
“The contest’s starting, Annette.”
Another trumpet rang through the fairgrounds, signaling that Lady was right. The announcer’s voice boomed from the podium.
“The tournament of the golden arrow will now begin!”
Applause erupted from the stands. Danielle, still crouched behind a hedge, watched as a line of competitors walked out onto the field. She tried to inch closer to get a better look when a familiar voice sounded from a nearby bush.
“For god’s sake, Rob, you could’ve just asked me to stitch—”
“Hey now! It’s part of the charm, Johnny. Robert Storks of Devonshire doesn’t take care of his clothes.”
“Robert Storks?!”
Robin and Little John both jumped in surprise. Danielle had pushed her way through the leaves and was eager to give her opinion on the matter.
“Robby! Robert is too close to your name. Why would you pick that?”
“That’s what I said,” Little John muttered. “The kid’s right. And quit shootin’ looks at the fair maiden!”
“Can’t help it,” Robin murmured, already looking towards the podium. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
Danielle was standing on her tiptoes whispering something to John. “He’s so gonna get caught.”
“Ah-ah. Fear not, my young friend! I’ve mastered the art of archery and acting.” Robin straightened up his outfit, put on the hat and face mask and saluted them.
“Watch out for the sheriff!” Danielle insisted. “Loser John has a bunch of guards and cops and all the loser stuff over there.”
“Yeah, your little escapades have really put the guy on guard, Rob,” said Little John skeptically. Robin scoffed at them good-naturedly.
“You worry too much, old boy!” He was already disappearing through the bush. “I’ll see you with the cash and the arrow!”
Danielle and Little John watched as he took a spot among the other competitors. The announcer’s booming voice came again, calling for a “Sir Knight Huxley of Lancelot the Third and Most Esteemed”. In hindsight, maybe Robin’s fake name wouldn’t stand out at all.
Sir Knight Lancelot missed his target so bad it turned out to be good; it landed near the bullseye on a different target on his right. He argued for a minute with the referee that it should still count (it didn’t) until giving up. Then it was Robin’s turn, right as Danielle made it back to her family and wedged herself between Collette and Scamp.
“Next up is Robert Storks of Devonshire!” the voice boomed with flair. Danielle nudged her brother so hard he nearly dropped his phone.
“That’s Robby! Scamp! It’s Robby!”
Scamp peered at the guy carefully. “Robert Storks? He couldn’t think of a better name?”
“That’s what I said!”
“Wait, that’s him? That’s our Robin Hood?” Annette whispered. Collette was glancing between him and Marian.
“Oh, they keep looking at each other! It is him! Oh he’s gonna win and they’re gonna kiss and RUN AWAY TOGETHER TO THE—”
“If Robert Dorks doesn’t blow his own cover, Collette’s probably got it handled,” Scamp quipped. Collette shot him a glare and sat back down, hands clasped together.
Robert Storks was practically skipping his way to position, not a care in the world. He gave a theatrical bow towards the podium. Marian, still seated beside her uncle, pressed a hand to her mouth to hide a smile. Then Robin spun around, lifted his arrow, squinted for maybe 2 seconds, and fired.
As Danielle had predicted, the arrow pierced the target dead center. The crowd gasped and broke into applause as Robin bowed again and strolled off the arena, letting the next contestant take over.
Little John watched from a merchandise stall situated by the mayor’s podium. He was in his own disguise, the “Duke of Chutney”. Something in the mayor’s expression had turned even more smug, and it was giving Little John a bad feeling.
“A perfect bullseye,” Mayor John murmured. “Well, well.”
The field thinned round after round, with Robert Storks’ arrows hitting the center (or within an inch of it) every time. Finally, only he and the county's big, burly and unlikable sheriff, were left standing. The crowd had gone electric, chanting their praises and throwing out bets.
The sheriff went first. His arrow landed a hair’s breadth from the center, but this only resulted in light applause. He was, after all, pretty unlikable.
Robin rolled his shoulders, and for just a moment, Danielle saw him glance toward the podium. Marian had risen from her seat without seeming to notice she’d done it, hands clasped tightly at her chest.
He drew. Released.
The arrow split the sheriff's one clean in two and buried itself in the target’s center. The fairgrounds exploded. Danielle was on her feet screaming along with half the bleachers. Collette shrieked something about "witnessing true love soon" and Annette pumped her wooden sword in the air. Even Tramp, mid-turkey-leg, let out a triumphant whoop.
Up at the podium, the mayor’s smug expression had curdled into something tighter. He forced a smile as the announcer called Robert Storks forward to claim his prize.
Marian descended the podium steps herself, golden arrow trophy and the cheque for the prize money in her hands.. Robin approached, bowing with a flourish but keeping the hat and mask firmly in place.
“Congratulations, Mr Storks!” Marian said, something warm and knowing in the way she said it. “A remarkable display.”
“I had excellent motivation, my lady.”
She held out the trophy, their hands lingering a moment too long in the exchange. Somewhere in the crowd, Collette made a sound like a kettle reaching boil.
That was when the mayor stood. He followed Marian down the steps and approached Robin, smiling a little too wide.
“Archer, I commend you,” he began. “You have superior skill. Our most “royal” congratulations, indeed.”
“Why, thank you, kindly,” Robin said with a grin, leaning a little too close towards Marian. This, as it turned out, was not his brightest decision, as it meant he was within grabbing distance of the mayor too. John had put a friendly arm on his shoulder.
“I name you the winner, good sir. Or…more appropriately—”
Before anyone knew what was happening, Mayor John reached out in swift motion and snatched at the edge of his mask. The fabric tore, the crowd gasped and John sneered in glee at the exposed Robin.
“The loser.”