Playing Catch Up (Oliver/Romily)

[Oliver Strathmore of Mercia]

Out on one of his many hunting excursions, Oliver and his group decided it was time to call it a night as the sun was starting to set in the west. The day had proved productive for this small merry band of hunters. They had caught a deer which they had made lunch out of earlier in the day. And now, two of his men were lugging along a huge boar as they step into a village, and towards The Ram’s Head, a tavern and an inn they had spied along the way.

“Go get the landlord and see if he can help us with this one. Tell him he’ll get half of the boar if he’s cooperative enough,” Oliver said to his servant Lot, who eagerly rode his horse ahead of the others towards the tavern.

Oliver and his men, a band composed of only five, had traveled all the way from Mercia days ago to hunt like they always do. One knight, two commoners who are good friends of the prince, the prince’s servant, and the second prince of Mercia himself made up the small hunting party. They may be small in number, but they are a formidable crew when it comes to hunting. The young prince himself, who is quite an expert marksman with his bow and arrow, is more than enough to hunt down as many animals as he could in one day.

The group tied their horses outside the inn and started making way into the warm and cozy light of the tavern. A good enough crowd had already gathered there, and the smell of delicious food wafted in the air. Oliver couldn’t help the grumbling that his stomach made, and made a quick beeline towards an empty table in the middle of the room.

[Romily de Braose]

It had been a busy day at The Ram, busier than usual so that Romily noticed. Eldon and Agnes were both ranting at her to be a lot quicker on her feet, to check the stew, to beat the sheets and other jobs that Romily knew that Agnes was quite capable off. At present she was in the kitchens trying to serve up some food for the locals, anymore chores and she’d scream. She had no idea where Eldon had disappeared to and Agnes was flirting with a group of men who looked as though they had just finished a days hunt.

“Don’t worry Rom – I think I’ve got this one” Agnes smirked as she flittered past to obviously take the men their drinks.
“Excuse me! Miss!” called one of them as she passed. Romily turned, “Would it be possible to have something to eat alongside the drinks that your pretty friend is getting for us?”

Romily hoped Agnes hadn’t heard the comment, she was sure that she’d be draped over all the men by the end of the day – ever being the man eater that she was. Romily just didn’t know how she didn’t, and she didn’t really want to find out either. “Perhaps you come served with food?” another man smirked, “She’s prettier than the other girl”

“I can give you stew and some bread to go with it, it’s that or nothing” Romily told the group, “And before you ask, no I do not come as a side order”. She was going to make it known now that she was unlike Agnes or any other barmaid for that matter.

“So what will it be gentleman? Because I’m busy enough as it is”

[Oliver Strathmore of Mercia]

Oliver was about to rattle off quite a hefty list of food and drinks to the approaching barmaid knowing full well that was all they needed after a long day out and about hunting, when Kingsley, one of his friends and the son of the palace blacksmith called out to another barmaid from behind. One who had golden hair and who stood taller than the one who was about to serve them.

“Perhaps you come served with food?”

“She’s prettier than the other girl.”

Oliver had to bury his face in his hand as he shamefully listened to his friends joke around. He sincerely hoped the barmaid wasn't offended by those seemingly callous remarks. His friends could get terribly boisterous when they're all tired and hungry. Quite the irony really.

“And before you ask, no I do not come as a side order.”

When Oliver heard the barmaid's witty retort, he couldn't help but let out a loud guffaw, laughing out loud as his friends got quite a smacking they deserve. They didn't see that one coming! Serves them right being disrespectful like that, Oliver thought. He was totally in admiration now of the barmaid for fighting back like a strong woman that he stood up from his seat to personally apologize for his group's behavior.

But when he turned to face the golden-haired barmaid, however, he stopped dead in his tracks. "Millie?" he asked rather disbelievingly. It couldn't possibly be, Oliver thought. She looked very much like his good friend, the Lady Romily de Braose, that he couldn't have possibly mistaken her for someone else. But then what was she doing working in a tavern? "Romily, is that really you?"

[Romily de Braose]

Romily glanced and saw Agnes scowling from the bar, obviously jealous of not receiving the same attention or treatment that she was getting. Romily gave a small shrug and then turned back towards the group.
“So come on then? I haven’t got all day, and the locals won’t take too kindly to you if you keep me from waiting on them” she warned. The locals didn’t take too kindly to any new traveller until they were fully sure that they could gain their trust. Romily had been an exception, but as a close knit community there had been questions raised.

"Millie?"

She had no idea where or who that had come from until she saw one of the group standing up, looking or rather gawping at her in astonishment. She frowned slightly at him, Oliver? Was that the same Prince Oliver of Mercia that had visited Wolfhall all those years ago? Indeed it was. Oh no. she couldn’t have her cover blown after all of this. Agnes would have a field day if she found out who she really was.

"Romily, is that really you?" Oliver was now asking. She had to play it cool. She had to act like she had no idea who he was.

Romily continued to frown back at him, as though she was confused by the whole scenario. “I’m sorry” she shook her head, “you must have mistaken me for someone else, my name is Jayne.” And now in true Romily style, she avoided the subject by turning back to the men. “Right stew it is then”.

With one last pitiful smile towards Oliver, she turned and headed back to the bar, with Agnes watching and fuming at the sight.

[Oliver Strathmore of Mercia]

If she recognized him at all, she didn't show any sign of it. And Oliver had almost hesitated, not really sure if she was really the Lady Romily that he knew and had struck quite a long-distance friendship with. Oliver had only met her a couple of times when they visited Wolfhall years ago. He couldn't quite remember Romily's face, but from what his memory could give him, it was exactly like that one of their serving barmaid.

Jayne. She said her name was Jayne. And Oliver had to sit back down on his chair, and recollect his memory of his friend again. He hadn't exactly heard from her in a while now. They had been exchanging letters for years now. And since they discovered their love for books, they have continued on to exchange books from each of their family's libraries. Usually her letters and any books that they were exchanging would usually arrive every month, but Oliver hadn't received anything last month. He had resisted the urge to send someone to Wolfhall to inquire about her, but not wanting to sound all too eager or desperate, he decided against it. If another month had passed and he still hasn't received anything from her, then he would have probably traveled to her instead.

But what could have happened that prevented Romily from writing to him? He made a mental note to inquire as soon as they return to Mercia, but for now, he was going to get as much as he could from this Jayne, who looked enough like his friend. If she's not really Romily, then it wouldn't hurt either to get acquainted with a lovely golden-haired barmaid.

As soon as their stew and drinks arrived, Oliver immersed himself into dinner. But he couldn’t quite get his mind off that barmaid, and already a plan was brewing inside his head as to how to get "Jayne" to give them--him particularly--some company.

[Romily de Braose]

Romily steadied herself against the bar, feeling almost now too weak to stand. Oliver was here. Of all the places in Albion! He had recognised her, or at least thought she was familiar. At least her little white lie had proved effective and he hadn’t questioned her anymore on the topic. She wondered whether he had been worried. They would exchange letters often and talk about their love of books – something that had formed their friendship. But since the whole betrayal with Freddie, Romily hadn’t the heart to write to him to tell him of what happened. So she stopped. Just like that. She felt guilty but at the same time it was for Oliver’s own good. Why would he want to be friends with a disgraced barmaid?

She looked over to where he was sat talking to his friends. Agnes immediately spotted her and snorted. “Dream on Millie, that boy has got far better taste”

Romily smiled to herself, still watching Oliver, “I know – which is why he spoke to me instead of you” and on that she turned on her heel, once again having the upper hand in the argument. Anyway she knew Oliver better than Agnes. She pondered as to whether she should actually reveal herself to him. She had a secret life hidden from the locals here anyway. She decided against this. Oliver would only persuade her to go back to her father, and that she didn’t want.

“Romily, the gentleman at the table over there want more drinks” Eldon said, passing her to get to the bar, “and be quick about it.” Great. It was Oliver’s table. That would mean she’d have to talk to them all again. Cautiously she walked over.

“The landlord says that you want more drinks gentleman? What can I get for you?” she asked, seeing that the member of the group that had been too over friendly earlier, seemed to be thinking of his witty retort. “and once again, not me” she sighed, tired of all the attention that she was attracting from them now. "Surely you can think of a better line to impress me with gentleman?" she smirked, "because it's just not working for me right now". she told them, the satisfaction of once again having the upper hand, seeping into her voice.
Her eyes flickered to Oliver before back to the rest of the group.

[Oliver Strathmore of Mercia]

Halfway through the meal, Oliver nudged his servant Lot to get them more drinks. The landlord had been nearby, and had offered to call one of the barmaids to get them their order. "I want the blond to serve us," Oliver specified as he dropped a couple of gold coins in his hand. The man didn't look too well pleased, but accepted the coins nevertheless.

Not to soon thereafter, "Jayne" was at their table asking for their drinks. She had nipped his men's teasing in the bud, and Oliver couldn't help the small chuckle that issued from his lips at her bravado. She had quite an attitude, very much like he remembered the Lady Romily.

"Rounds of ale for me and my pals, would you, Jayne? And keep them coming," he told her with a wink, using her offered name deliberately. Before she could turn and leave, however, Oliver stood up and moved next to her, his chest barely grazing her arms, a little too close for comfort.

"You will have to forgive my friend for doing all that he can to impress you. He is quite smitten by your looks and luscious golden locks," he told her as he moved to tuck a stray of hair behind her ear. He was going to milk it for what it's worth. Sooner or later, he hoped she will crack, and then he will move in for the kill. No matter what she was telling him, Oliver's instincts were not letting this go so easily.

He then moved his hand down her shoulders before resting it on the small of her back as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Now be a dear, bring us our drinks, and sit with us. We will make it worth your while," he told her quite confidently, although inwardly he wasn't quite sure if it would have any effect on her. Either way, it had to get some reaction. Positive or negative, Oliver was preparing himself. "Quite worthwhile in fact that you can have work off for at least a week and still get yourself a pretty dress? How does that sound?" he was deliberately bribing her. If she were just an ordinary barmaid, she would gladly accept it. If she won't accept it, she would only confirm his suspicions.

[Romily de Braose]

Oliver of course was the one to give commands of the group. Keep the drinks coming eh? They’d be on the floor by the end of the evening and Eldon wouldn’t be happy.
“Very well” she smiled and turned to leave, but the sudden action of Oliver getting up and slightly brushing her arm was enough to make her turn.

Romily eyes travelled to where he was now brushing a strand of hair from her face. Now that was the Oliver she remembered, a total Casanova. “And it seems as though your friend here is not the only one” she mused; if he wanted to the play the game then she’d play it too and beat it. “But if you want these drinks, I’m afraid you’ll have to turn your looks somewhere else for a few moments while I get them.” A small smirk travelled across her lips. Play Agnes. Play her ways and her devious charm and perhaps then Oliver wouldn’t suspect anything more.

Sit with them? Eldon would kill her if she so much as thought about taking a break. “As much as I’d love your company, my landlord is standing over there watching – he doesn’t like it when I sit and talk to the customers.” She told him, “but I suppose you could make it worth my while if you were to slip him a few coins” she smiled sweetly and traced a finger down his cheek, “I’m sure you could do that as well as that week off you’ve just ‘promised’ me” Romily bit her lip playfully, “Perhaps…even more?” With that she glided off to the bar to get the men their drinks, leaving Oliver standing there.
He was soooo going to lose the game. When Romily flirted, she would flirt and that was saying something.

“Don’t mess up Millie, punters like them have a lot of money and power” Eldon warned

Romily turned to him, keeping her eyes on the men who seemed to be watching her every move, “oh I wouldn’t worry” she smirked, “I think I’ve got these ones wrapped right around my little finger”

“Good girl, but don’t forget yourself” Eldon replied gruffly and walked off to speak with a local.

[Oliver Strathmore of Mercia]

Romily had played back just as he expected, and Oliver was going to milk it for all it’s worth. She may still think that he had believed her little Jayne story, but no. He wanted to know what exactly was going on, and he was going to get it from her whether she liked it or not. He was not leaving until he did. For the sake of their friendship, Oliver hoped Romily would be more forthcoming. But if she wanted to play, yes, he was going to play along as well.

“It’s not so hard to fall for a lovely maiden such as you. We’ll wait until you come back to us. We know it will be worth it.” Oliver threw back the ball into her court. Let’s do this, Millie. Let’s see who tires first. I’m not giving up until you tell me your story, Oliver told himself with as much determination as he could muster.

When she turned and left him standing there with a suggestion for her landlord, Oliver was only too happy to oblige. If she thinks she was winning, she was playing into his hands. If she had other tricks too then, Oliver had all night to play them as well. “If you want a month off just say so, darling,” Oliver called out to her, making sure half of the bar heard him, earning him hoots as a show of support. “See, they all loved me. You should, too.” Now, he was playing for the bigger stakes. But to Oliver, no stake was big enough when it comes to a friend. He may look all carefree on the outside, but inside he was truly concerned for her. Does her father know where she is and what she's doing here?

Oliver fished out a small bag of gold coins from his coat, and gave it to his servant. “Give it to the landlord, and tell him the boar that we just brought in, it’s all his as long as he frees up his lovely blonde barmaid just for us. Tell him what I want with the maiden is of great importance,” he told Lot. His servant did as he was told, and walked towards where the landlord was talking to a local. They had retreated to a corner in the tavern where they spoke, and Lot planted the handy bag of gold into the palm of the man’s hand. Oliver sat back on his seat as he watched the exchange, hoping Eldon would be so kind as to grant him his simple wish.

[Romily de Braose]

Lot made his way over to where the landlord was talking with a local man, the bag of coins in his hand. He gave a small cough and then placed the bag into the landlord’s palm. “In exchange for the girl…” he simply said.
Eldon frowned and then looked over to Oliver. “My barmaids are not placed here for your masters amusement – they are here to work” with that he handed the coins back to Lot.

“My master wants the blonde and only the blonde, just for this evening” he shifted uncomfortably. “You already have the boar, I’m sure you could spare yourself one pretty little barmaid.”

“As I said before, my barmaids are here to work – this isn’t a gentleman’s club, but a tavern. My Millie isn’t for sale”

Lot looked taken aback. Millie? But she was called Jayne? Hadn’t Oliver called her Millie earlier? He couldn’t understand what was going on. He rummaged through his pocket until he produced another bag of coins. Ok it was less than what Oliver had to offer but combined it was certainly something. “Ok then…how about this?” he pushed the bags forward. “You get the money and my master gets the girl”
At this Eldon raised his brows and looked to Lot. “Ok, deal – but if he dares destroy that girl then he has another thing coming. I care a great deal about her; she’s one of my hardest workers.”

“I can assure you sir; she will be taken care of.”

Romily saw Oliver’s friend talking to Eldon as she passed with the tray of drinks. Immediately the elder man called her over. “This gentleman here says his friend wants you for the evening…” Eldon told her.
She looked to Lot who shifted uncomfortably before he looked at Oliver and then back to her. Romily herself looked at Oliver and the back to Eldon with a smirk. “And I suppose you said yes, because I’m that much like cattle at a market”

“It was a fair deal” Lot cut in with a smug look, “Oliver likes you, and when he wants something he genuinely tends to get it”.

“So I noticed…” she mused and picked up the tray of drinks that were to be carried to Oliver’s table. “Well then…your master has no idea just what he’s in for”.

Lot looked as though he was about to pass out! Eldon rolled his eyes as she walked away and over to the table. Setting the tray down, she caught Oliver’s eyes as she looked up. “I hear you’ve managed to get your way and free me from my duties this evening” she smirked, “Very clever I must say”
No Oliver – for once you won’t win this battle. I know what you’re up to and if you think you can sweeten me up just by treating me like any other tavern girl, then you’re certainly in for a shock!