The Adventures of Han of the Hood, Part 1

Rating: PG

Parings: Han/Leia

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucsafilm and the Walt Disney Company.

Han Solo – or Robin Hood, if you prefer – first met Luke Scarlet and Friar Kenobi when they came into the Mos Eisley Tavern, a run-down watering hold on the edge of Nottingham. A drunk man with a thick beard and a monkey's face gave the blond lad in the bright red cape a shove at the bar. Minutes later, the mercenary was missing a hand, and the old man was warding off anyone else with a wave of his sword. Han thought that the old Jedi order, the legendary Celtic warrior-monks, had all been killed off when they were accused of attacking Prince Palpatine. It would seem that the scheming ruler missed one.

The slender man in the musty brown cassock wasn't even intimidated by Chewbacca. His black-bearded Saracen friend towered over most people and spoke little English, but they chatted together like old friends. Chewie brought them over to their table, the monk with the silver hair and neatly trimmed beard, and the eager young boy with the hair of gold in the scarlet cape and tunic.

“Chewbacca here,” the old man began, “says you're the most skilled guide and archer in Sherwood Forest. We need someone who can take us to Alden Manor, Queen Breha's ancestral home on the edge of Nottingham. We have a message from King Bail that must get through to her. The only passengers are myself, the boy, a servant, and his dog.”

“You've never heard of Han Solo?” Han raised his eyebrow when they failed to show any recognition. “I'm fast with a bow and arrow, and even faster with a horse. I made the run through Kessel Pass in less than twelve seconds. Falcon won't have any trouble making it to Alden Manor.” He sipped his thick mead from the polished pewter cup. “What is it,” the outlaw asked, “some kind of trouble with the Sheriff and his men?”

The elderly monk gave him a small, rueful smile. “All we want is to avoid any encounters with the Prince's knights and Sheriff Vader.”

“That is a trick these days, isn't it?” Han chewed it over, leaning his long back clad in a tattered green tunic and black vest against the worn wooden bench. “I want twenty thousand pounds, old man. All in advance.”

“Twenty thousand!” The youth exclaimed, his deep blue eyes flashing. “We could hire an entire team of horses and archers for that!”

“But who will lead them, boy?” Han snorted. “You're little more than a child.”

“I'm just as skilled of an archer as you are!” The angry boy turned to his older companion. “We don't have to sit here and listen to this, Ben...”

Ben put up his hand, his own keen blue eyes moving back to Solo. “We can pay you fifteen now, plus two more when we reach Alden Manor.”

“Seventeen thousand?” Han thought this over. “You have yourself two guides. Meet us at the stables in town in about an hour.” Chewbacca nudged Han and nodded at three of the Prince's knights at the bar, asking the tavern keeper about a youth in red and an elderly monk with a sword. “And I'd do it quickly, before the Prince's mooks take too much of an interest in your handiwork.”

By the time the knights made it to Han and Chewbacca's table, they were alone. The knights didn't even give them a second glance.”Seventeen thousand! Those two must be desperate. This could save us, Chewie. Go back to the horses and tend to their needs. I'll pay for our drinks and get the feed for Falcon and Buraq.”

Han had no sooner gone to pay the tavern keeper than he found himself staring at the sharp end of an iron arrow. “Hello there, Green.” He put up his hands, trying to look friendly. “I'll be on my way to talk to your master as soon as I can. Tell Jasper...”

“Baron Du Hutt has had enough of your excuses.” “Greedy” Green was a singularly ugly man. His pock-marked face with the rough skin ended in peculiar little lips that looked more like Cupid's bows than anything human. His black hair always bristled, like he'd touched metal on a dry, cold day. His bow and arrow were certainly real enough, though. He pushed Han back to the table and bench he'd lately left. “He has no patience for outlaws who skip out on payment for taxes or their shipments.”

Han fingered his own bow. “Greedy, I have the money this time. I'm taking two men to Alden Manor. As soon as I come back, I'll pay for Father's land, what's left of it that the sheriff didn't take.”

“Tell that to the Baron.” Greedy kept the arrows level at Han's chest. “He may only take that worthless nag you call a horse.”

“First of all,” the thief sneered, “don't insult Falcon. Second, he'll touch him over my dead body.”

“You've just named your own death sentence, Locksley.” Greedy held up the bow as Han started to stand. “I believe I'll enjoy this.”

“I'll bet you will.” Han snapped before he leaped from his seat. It was too dark for most of the tavern's customers to tell what happened after that. All anyone knew when they could be bothered to look up from their ale cups was Greedy lay in a splatter of blood on the floor, an arrow through his chest. “Sorry about the mess” Han muttered to the tavern-keeper. He tossed the man a coin for his trouble before making his way out to join his friend.

Mos Eisley Village, even before King Bail left for the Crusades, had been a wretched hive of scum and villainy. With the king captured by his enemies in Austria, his half-brother Palpatine and Palpatine's mysterious right-hand man the Sheriff Vader had taken over, raising the taxes on everything from wool to road tolls. Those who couldn't afford to pay the taxes were often sent to jail, or at best, stripped of their homes and lands and left with nothing, including their pride.

Han knew Du Hutt was at the stables, even before Chewbacca warned him. Vicious nobles like Du Hutt who profited off Palpatine's corruption never left well enough alone. What the peasants and merchants didn't lose to paying taxes, they were forced to turn over to men who regarded them as little more than animals.

“Han, my boy,” Jasper began, “you disappoint me.” Baron Jasper Du Hutt was so corpulent and greasy, his stomach protruded far past the limits of his food-stained hose. No amount of silk and fur could disguise the remnants of his last meal. His face was all shiny rolls and fat, hiding a pair of yellowish piggy eyes. “You know I have no patience for highwaymen who lack the ability to deliver.”

His Baroness was surrounded by his most loyal men. Each and every one was a trained assassin or bounty hunter. Sir Boba of Gisbourne, who was rarely seen without his distinctive green and red armor that was common among the people of his land, held his gun read. His hard dark eyes could barely be seen in the slats on his visor.

Han regarded Boba with a cool stare before strolling over to Jasper with an easy smile. “I'll pay you, Du Hutt. I have a small charter now. Crazy old monk and some lad want to give me a pile of money to take them to Alden Manor. You'll have the money for my land in a few days.”

“All right, Locksley. I'll give you the time. Your father was one of my best men, before he ran afoul of the Sheriff's boys.” A fat finger poked into Han's side. “But if you don't deliver this time, I'll send so many men after you, you'll never be able to show your face in London or any other civilized town ever again.”

The taller man only smirked as he deliberately stepped on Jasper's foot, then gave him a bow. “You are a wonderful human being, Your Baroness.”

Han lay the feed in the horses' troughs as soon as the Baron and his men took their leave. Falcon and Buraq greeted him with their usual happy whinnies. Buraq was a stout, shaggy brown steed who rather resembled a four-legged version of his master. Falcon was older, it was true, with thinning patches in his gray fur and a stringy reddish mane, but he could ride like the wind and kick like a wild creature. Han was brushing Falcon's mane when Chewbacca returned with the lad, the monk, a tall, thin man in a tattered yellow tunic with golden hair and a nervous frown, and a fat, furry white dog who sported a strange blue wool collar with a small tube tied to it.

The lad in the red cape was not impressed with his transportation. “That's what's leading us to Alden Manor?” he whined. “'Tis little more than a bag of bones and hair!”

His owner merely patted the horse on the back. “Falcon is the fastest creature alive. He can run two leagues in less time it takes to whistle.”

“Greetings, sir.” The golden man gave him a small bow. “I am Thomas Gildenrod, former head of the servants at the House of the Walkers. This is my watch dog, Artoo.” He patted the cur by his side, who growled a bit at Han. “Don't mind him,” Gildenrod added quickly. “Artoo doesn't take kindly to anyone but me or Master Luke, and he'll even give me trouble at times.”

“Fine,” Han muttered. “We're a bit in a hurry here, so if you'll just...”

That was when he saw the Sheriff's men hurry in the door. They always wore their distinctive white and black armor that made more noise than a bull rushing in a pasture. “There they are!” called one, pointing at Han. “That's Robin Hood, the rascal the tavern keeper spoke of! Stop that carriage!”

The man had an arrow in his throat before he could move. Han whipped out his bow and fired off arrows faster than Luke could blink. Every shot hit one of the knights or knocked out their own arrows. Chewbacca cracked the reins and barked a command in his own language. The two horses shot out of the stable, nearly flattening several knights in their flight.

Five of the knights followed them on horseback. Luke climbed in between Han and Chewbacca on the front seat, clutching his own, smaller bow. “Why can't you outrun them?” he complained. “I thought you said these nags were fast!”

“Watch what you say, lad,” Han scolded, “or I'll throw you off right here. We'll be safe enough once we enter Sherwood Forest. I know the land like I know the back of my hand.”

Indeed, as soon as they were under the safe coverage of the trees, Han twisted the carriage around the trunks like a snake attacking its prey. “Oh my,” Gildenrod wailed, “I've forgotten how much I hate carriage travel! I would much rather walk than deal with this!”

“You can get out too, if you wish,” Han growled at him as the carriage bumped further into the undergrowth. The Sheriff and his men were having a harder time keeping up with them. Two of them turned around and went down another path, and one was flung off his horse when he hit a branch. The remaining two kept after them.

Luke made a face as he used the heavy old broadsword on his back to deflect arrows. “We need to get out of here! At the rate we're going, we'll be at Alden Manor by next year!”

“Finding your way through these woods is hardly like sowing crops, lad.” Han tugged the horses towards a path that was little more than a leafy rut overgrown with vegetation. “I don't think you want to end up in a ditch or a pond.”

The road was barely big enough for the carriage. Thorny branches scraped at it's sides and tore at their clothes and hair. One knight ran straight into a ditch on the side of the road that had been covered with leaves. The other two were slowed by the thick brambles that kept catching at their capes.

Their carriage bumped along the path until Han turned back onto the main road. Chewbacca tugged at his arms. “I think so too, my friend,” Han laughed. “The last of the knights were detained back on the path. I told you we'd outrun them.”

There was no reply in the carriage's cab. Luke had gone back there after they'd returned to the main road. He was practicing feints on his knees while Friar Kenobi gave him advice. Gildenrod watched them and scratched Artoo between the ears as the dog slept, his head pillowed on his master's lap.

“Don't all thank me at once.” Han made a face and returned his eyes to the road. “At any rate, we'll be at Alden Manor within the hour.”

The aging friar was far more interested in his youthful charge. “Focus, Luke! Keep your eyes on the blade and your opponent. Believe in your strength, and let the element of that faith carry you through.”

“I'm trying, Ben...whoa!” A bump knocked Luke from his knees, landing him face-first into the pile of hay he'd been using to practice.

The thief's laugh was curt and short. “You should be teaching the lad how to use a bow and arrow, not play games with a sword, monk. Your silly religions and rusted blade are no match for a man who is a good shot.”

Luke spat hay as he got back to his knees. “I take it, sir, that you don't believe in religion.”

“Lad, I've been all over England, and Chewbacca and I were in the Crusades.” He gave Luke that little smirk. “I've seen many strange things you'd scarcely believe, but I've never seen anything to make me believe there's one all-powerful force controlling us all. No mystical fate rules my destiny. It's merely tricks and nonsense.”

“Maybe it isn't,” the youth countered with one last hard thrust at the hay, “but it seems to have worked for me.” He lifted the hay and nearly split the board beneath it in two. “Ben, did you see that?”

“I did, Luke.” Ben's nose was sniffing, even as he patted his shoulder. “Luke, I smell smoke.” His face paled. “And I hear screaming, like hundreds of voices cried out in terror and were silenced.”

Han and Chewbacca sniffed at the air as well. “I do as well, old man.” The smaller of the two wrinkled his nose. “It's too thick and acrid to come from a fireplace.”

“The Manor!” Flames shot up from just beyond the rapidly thinning growth. Luke's eyes widened. “Oh god, they're burning the Manor!”

“Why would they do that?” Han grumbled as he tugged at the reins, getting the horses to pull them around the smoke. “Why would they murder their own Queen?”

“They would,” Thomas wailed, “if they believed her capable of treason! My poor mistress! This is terrible!” Artoo whimpered and leaned into his master's side, letting him stroke his ears to calm himself.

Red-hot flames shot from every inch of the castle, lighting up the sky for miles. Luke's eyes widened as Han pulled into a clearing...only to find burning wood and stone and charred bodies scattered over Queen Breha's prize rose garden. There was barely anything left of what had once been one of the largest and most beautiful estates in all of England.

“Oh no,” the boy gasped, barely able to breathe, “the Sheriff did it again. Because of that message!”

Han didn't like the haunted look in the lad's eyes. It reminded himself too much of his own when he found his ancestral home laying in charred fragments on the scorched dirt of Soloshire. “Boy,” he said softly as the younger man wept into his red cloak, “what are you talking about?”

“The Sheriff killed my aunt and uncle, too.” Tears streamed down Luke's increasingly soot-stained face. “Killed them for the dog who holds the message. I was lucky Artoo ran away and I chased him. I barely missed being killed myself.” He wiped his nose on a piece of linen Thomas gave him. “Thank you. Ben told me the Sheriff murdered my father many years ago, too. Sir Anthony of the Walkers was a great warrior, the finest of the king's knights, and he died defending the throne against Vader.”

“Sorry about that, lad.” Han wasn't much good with tears. He awkwardly patted his shoulder.

Artoo barked the moment he saw the soldiers and tried to leap out of the carriage. Thomas had to hold the angry dog's collar, and even then, he barely managed to keep him from biting the nearest man in white on the leg. “Artoo, no! Bad boy! He mustn't find us here!”

“Shh!” Han pulled them into a grove of trees as a carriage built strongly of black walnut followed by a platoon of knights in white and black armor rode out. “If they hear us, it'll be our necks hanging next!”

A sleek black stallion as large as two of Falcon galloped over from the remains of the gardens. Luke gasped, Ben narrowed his eyes, and even Han had to pause. Heavy black iron armor and raspy breathing revealed this to be none other than Vader, the Sheriff of Nottingham himself. It was said he had once been one of the king's knights who had been caught in a terrible fire, and had been burned so badly in the resulting conflagration, he needed to remain in the armor merely to live. It did nothing to change his nearly supernatural strength or legendary temper. Few men who crossed him ever lived to tell the tale.

“Bring any remaining servants to Nottingham Castle,” Vader boomed. “They will be questioned there with Maid Leia. Her message to the peasant rebels of Sherwood Forest must be found, understand me? I want every part of this forest searched! Leave no village standing until you find it!”

“Maid Leia! King Bail's ward.” Luke tugged at Han's cloak. “She's the one who wrote the message. It's her signature on it. The servant and dog are hers. We must help her!”

“What we have to do is get out of here and drop you two at some nearby inn.” Han was already starting to turn the carriage back towards Mos Eisley Village. “I have no desire to be swinging on the end of a rope with the Queen, and I'd like to take customers who may actually be able to pay me.” Chewbacca growled and tried to grab the reins. “Chewie, have you gone mad? We should be stealing gold from some noble, not chasing Vader!”

It was too late. “Men!” They were surrounded by three men in white and black armor, all pointing swords at them. The tallest aimed his sword at Han's gullet. “What are all of you doing in this clearing?”

Han gave them his easy smile, even as he gazed down the sharp silver blade. “I'm nothing more than a humble forest guide, sir. My partner and I are taking these gentlemen to the good friar's abbey on the other side of Sherwood. We took a shortcut and got lost.”

One aimed his sword at Thomas' gullet. “This man looks familiar. I think he may be Maid Leia's missing servant. The Sheriff has spoken of him!”

“Chewie!” Han leaped from the cart. “Grab them! You take those two, I'll handle the other!”

No sooner had Han spoken these words than Chewbacca grabbed both men by the throat and slammed them onto the ground, knocking them out. Han flung open the visor of the third and hit him hard in the chin, sending him to the ground as well.

Han tossed the man's armor to Luke. “This is how we're going to get out of here.”

“What?” Luke's blue eyes were wide. “What are you doing?” He jumped back as a chest plate was shoved in his face.

“Lad, there's an old saying in the forests that you would be wise to remember.” He slid the second chest plate over his own tunic. “If you can't beat them,” he gave him that easy smirk, “join them.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

They were terribly lucky that no one noticed the extra cart that joined the procession. Han, Luke, and Thomas dressed in the knights' stolen armor, despite Thomas' protests that he was no warrior. Friar Ben and Chewbacca bound the three real knights to a tree and left them a bag of jerky and a skin of water for the night. Friar Ben managed to find a cloak in one of the bags to cover Chewbacca and another to hide Artoo, who slept most of the way to Nottingham Castle.

Luke gulped as the residence of the Sheriff came into view. It was a hulking stone fort, made of the fire-forged black stone of Mufasar, and said to be completely impregnable. The building took up almost the entire cliff, dominating the views for miles around.

Once over the drawbridge, Han pulled the horses into a shadowy alcove near the stables. “We've made it in,” the outlaw grumbled as he fed his beloved steed a bit of hay from a bundle by the door. “Now what?”

“Now we have to rescue Maid Leia!” Luke exclaimed as he nearly tumbled out of the carriage. “She must be somewhere in the castle! If we could just find her...”

Artoo was already sniffing at the ground. Friar Ben leaned over and stroked his back. “Do you smell her, boy?” The dog howled, letting his nose snuffle along the ground. “You know her. You're her dog, or you were. You know where they have her.”

“That's wonderful,” Han complained, “but we'll have no means of escape once we do find her. If, in fact, we can find her.”

Friar Ben had already started towards the gate, his hand on the fine silver hilt of his sword. “Leave that to me, Hood.”

“Foolish man.” Han snorted. “I suspected you'd say something like that.” He turned to Chewbacca as the boy tried to go after the religious man. “I knew we shouldn't have gone on this insane errand.” The moor shrugged and went on in his language. “You think we should help them? Not without payment, my friend. We're in this up to our necks already as it is.” Han nodded as he went on. “I think that ancient friar is daft too, but what can we do? The lad trusts him.”

Artoo tugged hard at Thomas. “I think,” the thin servant tried to explain, “that he wishes for us to follow him.”

Luke glared at Han. “Haven't you figure it out yet, Solo? There's a group of outlaws in Sherwood Forest who call themselves the Merry Rebels. 'Tis them whom the message is intended for. We have to help Leia get that message to them, before other homes burn like yours, Alden Manor, and my aunt and uncle's farm.” He leaned over Han, trying to whisper in his ear. “Besides, she's still very wealthy. As the ward of King Bail, she'll be able to pay you whatever you imagine.”

“I don't know, lad,” Han sneered. “I can imagine a great deal.”

“You'll get it,” the lad in red swore. “I'll see to it that you do.”

It took ten minutes and Chewbacca smacking the heads of three lesser nobles, but they did finally get someone to tell them where the princess was being kept. She wasn't in the dungeon, but in the Sheriff's rooms in the tower on the third floor. “A princess in the tower,” the youth breathed. “Just like in the stories.”

“We're not in a fairy tale, boy.” Han grumbled as they rushed up the stairs. “We'll be lucky if we survive.”

There were two guards stationed by the largest door on the third floor. Chewbacca flung the first into the wall as if he were a doll, while Han knocked out the second and stole his keys. “Here.” He flung the ring of jingling metal into Luke's waiting hand. “Free that princess of yours, so we can get out of here.”

“I agree.” Thomas whimpered as Artoo growled next to him. “We've been lucky so far, but what will happen if more guards – or the Sheriff himself – comes this way?”

Chewbacca was looking out one of the narrow windows on the other side of the hall when they heard the clang of ringing steel in the courtyard. He gestured to Han, pointing out the window. Han pushed past him and peered out, frowning. “I don't think that will be a problem.” Friar Ben was one of the combatants, his blade flashing almost green against the mossy stone. “The old friar is keeping His Lawfulness busy.”

“Your Maidship!” Thomas addressed the duo who rushed out. “I'm so glad you're safe!”

Han swirled around to gaze at this so-called “maid”...and found himself staring at a tiny creature in ethereal white and silver like a fairy, her brown velvet hair wrapped in buns nearly larger than her head. “Thank you,” she called to Thomas, “but right now, we need to focus on escaping.”

No sooner had the maid spoken than six soldiers came around the bend, pointing their weapons at the six. Artoo growled and leaped at them, but Thomas grabbed at his collar. Chewbacca's growls were almost as loud as he shot at them with his massive mechanical bow.

“Well,” Han grumbled, “we can't leave that way. Now what do we do?”

“You came in here,” Leia shouted over the din. “Didn't you create a plan of escape?”

“Not my idea, Your Worship.” The thief nodded at Luke. “It was his brains and the old monk's that got us in here. It's Scarlet boy you should talk to.”

The little maid snatched Thomas' shaky bow. Quicker than one could blink, she shot off three arrows that hit their men dead on. “Let's get out of here. There's a hay cart down there. That could be our only means of escape.”

Luke frowned as he parried with another guard. “But...” She leaped out one of the narrow windows before Han could stop her. He watched her fly through the air with the grace of a swan before indeed landing in a big cart of hay. “Maybe,” he gulped, “it's not such a bad idea. Better than remaining here to be killed.” The boy leaped out after her.

“Artoo,” wailed Thomas as the dog tugged him to the window, “I do think we should find another way out. I hate heights!” He took the slender white mongrel in his arms before looking over the parapet and way far down to the hay below. “I'm going to regret this!” His shrieks of fear and Artoo's howls could be heard all the way to the ground.

“Get down there!” Han gave Chewbacca a shove as he shot off the last of his arrows. “I don't care if you don't fit through the window, or if hay makes you sneeze!” Chewie managed to shove himself through the narrow opening before Han, now with an empty quiver, leaped after him.

“Oof!” Hay nearly went in his ears and nostrils as he landed up to his torso in a bristly pile. “What a terrific idea, Your Worship! You know, it's not going to take long for them to figure out what happened to us.”

Chewbacca, after getting over a sneezing fit, had already climbed out of the cart. “Good idea, Chewie.” Han smirked as his muscular friend grabbed the cart's front. “Get us back to the stables, so we can find the old monk and flee this place.”

“Can he do it?” Maid Leia was brushing hay off her dress, looking more like she'd just jumped over a small patch of dried grass in the courtyard than out a window. “There are a lot of us...”

She closed her mouth the moment Chewbacca started sprinting across the courtyard, just barely avoiding several surprised guards, blacksmiths, and ladies of the court. “You'd be surprised, Your Worship,” Han brayed. “I call him 'Big Chewie' sometimes for a reason. His strength was legendary in Jerusalem, lass. He could probably carry all of us and this cart if we didn't have to rush this along.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” Thomas pointed to the stables. “It looks like they're not heavily guarded.”

Maid Leia frowned. “And I believe that would be why.” They were directly in line with the duel between Friar Ben and Sheriff Vader. Luke couldn't help watching in horror as the men stumbled across the courtyard. All of the guards rushed to help Vader, leaving the drawbridge unguarded. “The gates are open! Now's our chance!”

“You can't win, Vader,” Ben was saying as Luke tossed off his armor. “If you strike me down, I'll become more powerful than you can possibly imagine.”

Han wasn't sure what happened after that. He was too busy hitching up the horses and getting ready to leave. All he knew was the kid shrieked bloody murder, and he turned around to see Friar Ben drop to the ground with Vader standing over him.

“Lad,” Han yelled as Leia climbed into the cart beside him, “get in! There's nothing we can do for him now!” Chewie had to bodily lift the boy and drop him in the cart as they sped across the drawbridge. The guards were too surprised to start shooting until they were well over the drawbridge and on their way into Sherwood Forest.