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maderrAhahaha, let's hope I'm not making a total hash of this. Needs a lot of work, since I'm still mucking with it, but here is what I've managed tonight.
Seeing as nothing is really sacred in the old tales except that Robin is some sort of outlaw, I am doing pretty much whatever the hell I want. I did keep most of the roles fairly traditional, more or less.
Part One: Return to Sherwood
"Here now, milady," Will said, as he opened the carriage door and offered his hand. "Have a care, the steps and ground are quite slick from an earlier rain."
The hand which reached out from the carriage to rest in his own was fine boned and delicate as a bird's wing, though he new they held a strength not readily apparent. It gripped his firmly, soft white leather bright against his own much rougher and worn black ones. The hood of her cloak was drawn up, shadowing her face against the light of the late day sun, but he could see the hint of a smile as she stepped gingerly to the ground, holding her skirts high in her other hand to keep them from the mud.
Behind her came a maid, holding up what portions of the heavy, cumbersome skirts her mistress could not manage.
"Thank you, Captain Scarlock," she murmured. "Both for getting us here so quickly, and agreeing to come along. I know you will be sorely missed…"
He kissed the back of the hand he still held. "Now, milady, you are too dear a friend to me to leave you here all alone." He smiled briefly, looking around a landscape he had not seen for some years, but had never forgotten. "Nottingham is my home, besides, and I must ensure she is presented well to you."
A soft laugh, and he was glad to hear it, for since… His mouth tightened briefly, and his hands wanted badly to draw his swords, but he shoved the rage and hate aside, for his only mission at present was to protect her now. He would not fail a second time.
Turning, he tucked her arm into the crook of his elbow and led her across the vast courtyard. "Castle Huntingdon, milady. Long has it been in disuse, save as a guard post, since the last Earl of Huntingdon was hanged for treason."
"It is in markedly good repair."
"Aye," Will replied, mouth curving briefly in a sad, nostalgic smile. "He was regarded as a traitor by the crown, but the older folk around the village always spoke of his kindness, his devotion to them. They maintain the keep, in respect to that memory."
They drew to a halt as they reached the line of servants which had assembled themselves outside the keep proper. Will drew himself up, resting his free hand lightly on the hilt of one of his swords. He pulled away slightly, lifting the delicate hand in the air, his own wrapped protectively around it. "Good people, I present your new mistress, Lady Marion, here to make Castle Huntingdon into a proper home once more. Give her your allegiance and your love, and she will give the very same to you. Milady, your most humble and devoted followers."
Lady Marion pushed back the hood of her cloak and smiled at the servants – who in turn stood gawking for more than a moment. Though a wimple hid her golden curls, her face was breathtakingly lovely enough on its own, and she had a smile to melt the coldest of hearts.
He should know, for his had been deemed quite cold before she won his devotion.
Will bit back a smile, pleased that so far a good impression was being made. It had been a daring move, to take over the long abandoned castle as a refuge for Lady Marion, but one he had been certain would find success. No lord had claimed it in decades now, and those who watched over it had no love of the crown.
Should that crown come to Nottingham searching for the missing Lady Marion, no one would here would speak of her presence.
Now, where was the very man he had written to arrange all of this…?
"Where is Tuck?" he asked, when a second glance about failed to reveal him.
Several of the older servants looked at him in surprise. Will nearly laughed, for it was clear they had not expected him to say that name – it was a local one, not a name to be known or used by a soldier of the King, come to Nottingham only in the past few minutes, dressed in city finery.
He wondered who would recognize him first.
The old woman who likely commanded the household, a woman who oft had watched him and his brother when they were mere boys, peered at him through narrowed eyes.
He sketched her a bow, and grinned.
"Bless my soul!" the woman exclaimed, hands going to her breast. "Is that Will Scarlet?"
"Aye, madam," he said, laughing now. "I see I am not entirely forgotten."
She strode toward him and trapped him in a fierce hug. "My word," she said, when she at last stepped away. "Look at you, now. I did not recognize you until that smile, full of trouble, just like that brother of yours."
Will laughed again. "Where is that brother of mine? I wanted to write him, but did not trust he would be about to receive it."
"Wise of you," she said, clucking her tongue and shaking her head, looking sad. "I'm afraid he ran off months ago, after having it out with the local Sheriff. It was that or stay and be arrested, and your brother never had a taste for being locked up."
"Robert never had a taste for being still," Will said dryly, fighting back his disappointment. He had hoped that upon his arrival, he would find Rob somewhere about the place. If there was anyone he had well and truly missed when he had departed to seek his fortune, it was his half-brother.
"Where is Tuck, then?" he asked. "I had thought he would be here to meet us."
The woman clucked her tongue again. "Like as not, the good Friar Tuck," she winked at him, "is at the monastery tending to some trouble or another. That Sheriff!" She sighed. "Come now, Will, you should get a bit of rest. Your journey must have been a long one, especially seeing as we did not expect you until the morrow."
Will was tempted to give in, for an hour or so of rest would be a fine thing indeed. He had exhausted himself ensuring they got here as quickly as was possible, and without being followed by the scoundrels Prince John would have set to keep watch upon his latest conquest.
"Nay," he said, finally forcing the refusal out. "There is much yet to which I must tend. See that Lady Marion is care for, and I will return as soon as I can."
"Be careful, Will Scarlet," Lady Marion called out, eyes sparkling with mirth.
He rolled his eyes. "Aye, milady." He wondered how many stories she would be told of his boyhood before he managed to return, and hid a wince. So much for retaining his dignity as Captain Scarlock.
Bowing to her, he accepted the horse a soldier had waiting for him, and mounted, riding off back toward the village. He pulled up the hood of his own cloak as he went, against the threat of rain promised by the lingering dark clouds. He had feared the foul weather would forestall their journey, but it had held back until the very last, when they were well past the worst of the roads and closer to the castle.
His home had not changed in the past fifteen years, not really. Little things here and there, but by and large it was much as his memories had preserved it. He had not known how he would truly feel upon his return, but being here…
Odd as it was, he was near giddy with joy. He had missed his home more than he had thought, and wondered now if he would be able to leave it again once it was safe to restore Lady Marion to her proper place.
He drew to a halt before the small chapel at the far end of the village, around which the oldest buildings of the large village clustered, the smaller, more recent dwelling spilling out from those beginnings. His own family's humble little home was at the very edge. He could see it now, though did not recognize the woman who stood in the doorway, calling for her children.
Turning away, he dismounted and tied his horse, then strode into the chapel, pushing back his hood. "Hallo!" he called, voice an echoing boom in the wide, empty room.
It was as bare and simple as he recalled, with faded strips of old cloth covering the few windows, to block out as much cold as possible. Torches were lit at the farthest end, but they offered little in the way of light, even less in the way of heat. The floor had been recently tended, though, for the straw was still relatively clean and untrampled.
There was a door at the far end, no doubt leading to the more private rooms, but he was only halfway across the chamber when it swung open to admit a tall, broad-shouldered man dressed in the humble robes of a friar.
He immediately recognized the face, though it had aged fourteen years. The red curls he remembered were gone, the head shaved smooth – but it was one of his oldest and dearest friends, of that there was no doubt. "Tuck!"
Tuck stared for a moment, then broke into a grin. "Will! You made it! I am sorry I was not there to greet you, I was taken off to deal with a minor problem at the last." He crossed the room and swept the slighter Will up in a tight embrace, causing Will's eyes to water.
He coughed when he was finally set free. "Tuck! Why are you a friar?"
"Various reasons," Tuck said, and grinned, "not least of which is all the food and ale which I am given."
Will rolled his eyes, and wondered what the real reason was, though he did not doubt for a moment Tuck was as free with his ale as he had ever been. "Where has my brother gone?"
"A good question," Tuck said grimly, but again did not offer an explanation.
He was beginning to sense that something was amiss with his brother, something more than simply running afoul of a Sheriff. Thinking about it started up a throbbing ache in his head. He loved his brother dearly, more than anyone else on earth – but he had long ago lost count of the number of times they had nearly found themselves strung up in the village square for one brilliant idea or another hatched by Robert.
"Well, come," he said, and clapped a hand on Tuck's enormous back. Always large, it would seem Tuck had not really stopped growing in the years Will had been gone. "We have brought fine wine along with us, and you are more than welcome to help deplete it. Though I do beg you not to do so all in one night."
"Yes, Captain," Tuck replied, shaking his head and laughing. "Off to seek your fortune, and it would seem you found it. Robert will laugh, of course, but you look well, Will." He reached out and tugged at the bright scarlet sash wrapped around Will's waist. "Some things never change, eh, Will Scarlet? Do they call you that, in your fancy city?"
"No," Will replied. "I have not been called Scarlet since I left."
"Well, it is good to have you back," Tuck said, and threw an arm over his shoulders, leading them from the chapel and back out into the streets.
"Friar! Friar!" Two women came running up, caps tumbled from their hair from the haste with which they had been moving. They gasped for breath. "Robin Hood has struck again, and this time he stole the tax money just collected by the Sheriff's men."
Tuck said words that a friar perhaps should not. "I will have to enjoy that wine with you another day, my friend," he said to Will. "Pardon me, this is a matter I must address at once." He ran off in the direction opposite the castle, robes held high so as not to impede his movements, and Will watched until he vanished into the dark of Sherwood Forest.
Will felt a cold chill at the back of his neck. He turned to the women, sketching them a deep bow. "My pardon, but who is this Robin Hood of whom you speak?"
The woman laughed, cheeks flushing as they regarded him. He had never been as handsome as his rapscallion half-brother, but he had never suffered from unfavorable looks. Often, they worked to his favor, as it would seem they would now. He and Robert both had their bright blonde hair from their mother, but Robert's eyes were blue where his own were green, and he had always been a bit more rugged than his almost winsome older brother. He was also more slender, taller, though in fourteen years that all could very well have changed.
"Oh," one woman tittered. "Have you not heard about him, then?"
"Nay," Will replied, wondering if these two were girl he had once played with in the city streets. He did not recognize them…but he had always spent far too much of his time admiring his friends, while they admire the girls. He coughed. "I am arrived only within the hour."
"Robin Hood is enemy to the Mayor and Sheriff of Nottingham," the other girl replied. "He and his men, they rob the crown's officials whenever they pass through here. The Sheriff has been going quite mad trying to find him, but so far he's had not a bit of luck."
Surely not…please let his instincts be wrong. "What is this Robin Hood like?"
"Oh, he's a bold one," the first woman said, tittering again. "Fine hand with a bow, they say he's equally fair with a sword, and faster than any man alive. They come close, but never quite catch him. Call them all the Merry Men of Sherwood."
Will bit back unseemly language, and bowed again. "Thank you. Now, I think you should get on home before it grows dark and your men begin to worry."
Laughing, flushing, they curtsied to him and then turn and ran off, still giggling to each other.
Swearing colorfully, Will mounted his horse and rode off in the direction Tuck had taken.
The woods were filled with shadows, the slowly setting sun not completely able to breach the thick trees.
He had not gone far when a warning arrow landed several paces ahead of his horse.
Will dismounted. "If it is a fight you want, Merry Men of Sherwood, then come out and face me like men."
Laughter echoed through the trees, but there was a great deal of arrogance in it.
A moment later a man nearly as large as the trees themselves appeared.
He might have known that Little John had been dragged into this farce. John and Robert had always been partners in mischief, with he and Tuck left the unrewarding task of getting the lot of them back out of the scrapes in which they had been mired.
Little John approached, a quarterstaff held lightly in one hand. "You stand no chance against me, little soldier of the King."
Will barred his teeth and drew both his swords. "I have thrown you in the creek at least a dozen times, Little John, and bested you in thrice as many duels. Now tell my good for nothing brother to show himself so that I might give him the thrashing he clearly needs."
He got a dumbfounded, disbelieving look for a moment – then John threw his head back and laughed, dropping his quarterstaff to wrap both his arms around his middle section as the laughter consumed the whole of his body.
"Well I will be damned!" He finally exclaimed. "Will Scarlet, returned to us at last!"
"Where is my brother?" Will demanded.
Little John clapped him on the shoulder, nearly causing Will to fall over. "Come, come, we will take you to him. He will be happy to see you, Scarlet!"
"Not after I beat his head in," Will muttered, but sheathed his swords and allowed himself to be led deeper into the forest.
Seeing as nothing is really sacred in the old tales except that Robin is some sort of outlaw, I am doing pretty much whatever the hell I want. I did keep most of the roles fairly traditional, more or less.
Sherwood Forest
Part One: Return to Sherwood
"Here now, milady," Will said, as he opened the carriage door and offered his hand. "Have a care, the steps and ground are quite slick from an earlier rain."
The hand which reached out from the carriage to rest in his own was fine boned and delicate as a bird's wing, though he new they held a strength not readily apparent. It gripped his firmly, soft white leather bright against his own much rougher and worn black ones. The hood of her cloak was drawn up, shadowing her face against the light of the late day sun, but he could see the hint of a smile as she stepped gingerly to the ground, holding her skirts high in her other hand to keep them from the mud.
Behind her came a maid, holding up what portions of the heavy, cumbersome skirts her mistress could not manage.
"Thank you, Captain Scarlock," she murmured. "Both for getting us here so quickly, and agreeing to come along. I know you will be sorely missed…"
He kissed the back of the hand he still held. "Now, milady, you are too dear a friend to me to leave you here all alone." He smiled briefly, looking around a landscape he had not seen for some years, but had never forgotten. "Nottingham is my home, besides, and I must ensure she is presented well to you."
A soft laugh, and he was glad to hear it, for since… His mouth tightened briefly, and his hands wanted badly to draw his swords, but he shoved the rage and hate aside, for his only mission at present was to protect her now. He would not fail a second time.
Turning, he tucked her arm into the crook of his elbow and led her across the vast courtyard. "Castle Huntingdon, milady. Long has it been in disuse, save as a guard post, since the last Earl of Huntingdon was hanged for treason."
"It is in markedly good repair."
"Aye," Will replied, mouth curving briefly in a sad, nostalgic smile. "He was regarded as a traitor by the crown, but the older folk around the village always spoke of his kindness, his devotion to them. They maintain the keep, in respect to that memory."
They drew to a halt as they reached the line of servants which had assembled themselves outside the keep proper. Will drew himself up, resting his free hand lightly on the hilt of one of his swords. He pulled away slightly, lifting the delicate hand in the air, his own wrapped protectively around it. "Good people, I present your new mistress, Lady Marion, here to make Castle Huntingdon into a proper home once more. Give her your allegiance and your love, and she will give the very same to you. Milady, your most humble and devoted followers."
Lady Marion pushed back the hood of her cloak and smiled at the servants – who in turn stood gawking for more than a moment. Though a wimple hid her golden curls, her face was breathtakingly lovely enough on its own, and she had a smile to melt the coldest of hearts.
He should know, for his had been deemed quite cold before she won his devotion.
Will bit back a smile, pleased that so far a good impression was being made. It had been a daring move, to take over the long abandoned castle as a refuge for Lady Marion, but one he had been certain would find success. No lord had claimed it in decades now, and those who watched over it had no love of the crown.
Should that crown come to Nottingham searching for the missing Lady Marion, no one would here would speak of her presence.
Now, where was the very man he had written to arrange all of this…?
"Where is Tuck?" he asked, when a second glance about failed to reveal him.
Several of the older servants looked at him in surprise. Will nearly laughed, for it was clear they had not expected him to say that name – it was a local one, not a name to be known or used by a soldier of the King, come to Nottingham only in the past few minutes, dressed in city finery.
He wondered who would recognize him first.
The old woman who likely commanded the household, a woman who oft had watched him and his brother when they were mere boys, peered at him through narrowed eyes.
He sketched her a bow, and grinned.
"Bless my soul!" the woman exclaimed, hands going to her breast. "Is that Will Scarlet?"
"Aye, madam," he said, laughing now. "I see I am not entirely forgotten."
She strode toward him and trapped him in a fierce hug. "My word," she said, when she at last stepped away. "Look at you, now. I did not recognize you until that smile, full of trouble, just like that brother of yours."
Will laughed again. "Where is that brother of mine? I wanted to write him, but did not trust he would be about to receive it."
"Wise of you," she said, clucking her tongue and shaking her head, looking sad. "I'm afraid he ran off months ago, after having it out with the local Sheriff. It was that or stay and be arrested, and your brother never had a taste for being locked up."
"Robert never had a taste for being still," Will said dryly, fighting back his disappointment. He had hoped that upon his arrival, he would find Rob somewhere about the place. If there was anyone he had well and truly missed when he had departed to seek his fortune, it was his half-brother.
"Where is Tuck, then?" he asked. "I had thought he would be here to meet us."
The woman clucked her tongue again. "Like as not, the good Friar Tuck," she winked at him, "is at the monastery tending to some trouble or another. That Sheriff!" She sighed. "Come now, Will, you should get a bit of rest. Your journey must have been a long one, especially seeing as we did not expect you until the morrow."
Will was tempted to give in, for an hour or so of rest would be a fine thing indeed. He had exhausted himself ensuring they got here as quickly as was possible, and without being followed by the scoundrels Prince John would have set to keep watch upon his latest conquest.
"Nay," he said, finally forcing the refusal out. "There is much yet to which I must tend. See that Lady Marion is care for, and I will return as soon as I can."
"Be careful, Will Scarlet," Lady Marion called out, eyes sparkling with mirth.
He rolled his eyes. "Aye, milady." He wondered how many stories she would be told of his boyhood before he managed to return, and hid a wince. So much for retaining his dignity as Captain Scarlock.
Bowing to her, he accepted the horse a soldier had waiting for him, and mounted, riding off back toward the village. He pulled up the hood of his own cloak as he went, against the threat of rain promised by the lingering dark clouds. He had feared the foul weather would forestall their journey, but it had held back until the very last, when they were well past the worst of the roads and closer to the castle.
His home had not changed in the past fifteen years, not really. Little things here and there, but by and large it was much as his memories had preserved it. He had not known how he would truly feel upon his return, but being here…
Odd as it was, he was near giddy with joy. He had missed his home more than he had thought, and wondered now if he would be able to leave it again once it was safe to restore Lady Marion to her proper place.
He drew to a halt before the small chapel at the far end of the village, around which the oldest buildings of the large village clustered, the smaller, more recent dwelling spilling out from those beginnings. His own family's humble little home was at the very edge. He could see it now, though did not recognize the woman who stood in the doorway, calling for her children.
Turning away, he dismounted and tied his horse, then strode into the chapel, pushing back his hood. "Hallo!" he called, voice an echoing boom in the wide, empty room.
It was as bare and simple as he recalled, with faded strips of old cloth covering the few windows, to block out as much cold as possible. Torches were lit at the farthest end, but they offered little in the way of light, even less in the way of heat. The floor had been recently tended, though, for the straw was still relatively clean and untrampled.
There was a door at the far end, no doubt leading to the more private rooms, but he was only halfway across the chamber when it swung open to admit a tall, broad-shouldered man dressed in the humble robes of a friar.
He immediately recognized the face, though it had aged fourteen years. The red curls he remembered were gone, the head shaved smooth – but it was one of his oldest and dearest friends, of that there was no doubt. "Tuck!"
Tuck stared for a moment, then broke into a grin. "Will! You made it! I am sorry I was not there to greet you, I was taken off to deal with a minor problem at the last." He crossed the room and swept the slighter Will up in a tight embrace, causing Will's eyes to water.
He coughed when he was finally set free. "Tuck! Why are you a friar?"
"Various reasons," Tuck said, and grinned, "not least of which is all the food and ale which I am given."
Will rolled his eyes, and wondered what the real reason was, though he did not doubt for a moment Tuck was as free with his ale as he had ever been. "Where has my brother gone?"
"A good question," Tuck said grimly, but again did not offer an explanation.
He was beginning to sense that something was amiss with his brother, something more than simply running afoul of a Sheriff. Thinking about it started up a throbbing ache in his head. He loved his brother dearly, more than anyone else on earth – but he had long ago lost count of the number of times they had nearly found themselves strung up in the village square for one brilliant idea or another hatched by Robert.
"Well, come," he said, and clapped a hand on Tuck's enormous back. Always large, it would seem Tuck had not really stopped growing in the years Will had been gone. "We have brought fine wine along with us, and you are more than welcome to help deplete it. Though I do beg you not to do so all in one night."
"Yes, Captain," Tuck replied, shaking his head and laughing. "Off to seek your fortune, and it would seem you found it. Robert will laugh, of course, but you look well, Will." He reached out and tugged at the bright scarlet sash wrapped around Will's waist. "Some things never change, eh, Will Scarlet? Do they call you that, in your fancy city?"
"No," Will replied. "I have not been called Scarlet since I left."
"Well, it is good to have you back," Tuck said, and threw an arm over his shoulders, leading them from the chapel and back out into the streets.
"Friar! Friar!" Two women came running up, caps tumbled from their hair from the haste with which they had been moving. They gasped for breath. "Robin Hood has struck again, and this time he stole the tax money just collected by the Sheriff's men."
Tuck said words that a friar perhaps should not. "I will have to enjoy that wine with you another day, my friend," he said to Will. "Pardon me, this is a matter I must address at once." He ran off in the direction opposite the castle, robes held high so as not to impede his movements, and Will watched until he vanished into the dark of Sherwood Forest.
Will felt a cold chill at the back of his neck. He turned to the women, sketching them a deep bow. "My pardon, but who is this Robin Hood of whom you speak?"
The woman laughed, cheeks flushing as they regarded him. He had never been as handsome as his rapscallion half-brother, but he had never suffered from unfavorable looks. Often, they worked to his favor, as it would seem they would now. He and Robert both had their bright blonde hair from their mother, but Robert's eyes were blue where his own were green, and he had always been a bit more rugged than his almost winsome older brother. He was also more slender, taller, though in fourteen years that all could very well have changed.
"Oh," one woman tittered. "Have you not heard about him, then?"
"Nay," Will replied, wondering if these two were girl he had once played with in the city streets. He did not recognize them…but he had always spent far too much of his time admiring his friends, while they admire the girls. He coughed. "I am arrived only within the hour."
"Robin Hood is enemy to the Mayor and Sheriff of Nottingham," the other girl replied. "He and his men, they rob the crown's officials whenever they pass through here. The Sheriff has been going quite mad trying to find him, but so far he's had not a bit of luck."
Surely not…please let his instincts be wrong. "What is this Robin Hood like?"
"Oh, he's a bold one," the first woman said, tittering again. "Fine hand with a bow, they say he's equally fair with a sword, and faster than any man alive. They come close, but never quite catch him. Call them all the Merry Men of Sherwood."
Will bit back unseemly language, and bowed again. "Thank you. Now, I think you should get on home before it grows dark and your men begin to worry."
Laughing, flushing, they curtsied to him and then turn and ran off, still giggling to each other.
Swearing colorfully, Will mounted his horse and rode off in the direction Tuck had taken.
The woods were filled with shadows, the slowly setting sun not completely able to breach the thick trees.
He had not gone far when a warning arrow landed several paces ahead of his horse.
Will dismounted. "If it is a fight you want, Merry Men of Sherwood, then come out and face me like men."
Laughter echoed through the trees, but there was a great deal of arrogance in it.
A moment later a man nearly as large as the trees themselves appeared.
He might have known that Little John had been dragged into this farce. John and Robert had always been partners in mischief, with he and Tuck left the unrewarding task of getting the lot of them back out of the scrapes in which they had been mired.
Little John approached, a quarterstaff held lightly in one hand. "You stand no chance against me, little soldier of the King."
Will barred his teeth and drew both his swords. "I have thrown you in the creek at least a dozen times, Little John, and bested you in thrice as many duels. Now tell my good for nothing brother to show himself so that I might give him the thrashing he clearly needs."
He got a dumbfounded, disbelieving look for a moment – then John threw his head back and laughed, dropping his quarterstaff to wrap both his arms around his middle section as the laughter consumed the whole of his body.
"Well I will be damned!" He finally exclaimed. "Will Scarlet, returned to us at last!"
"Where is my brother?" Will demanded.
Little John clapped him on the shoulder, nearly causing Will to fall over. "Come, come, we will take you to him. He will be happy to see you, Scarlet!"
"Not after I beat his head in," Will muttered, but sheathed his swords and allowed himself to be led deeper into the forest.
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Date: 2008-07-28 02:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 02:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 02:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 02:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 02:42 am (UTC)What a wonderful thing to find when on my lunch break!
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Date: 2008-07-28 03:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 03:44 am (UTC)I'm ashamed with myself that it took me as long as it did to place some of the characters :< (Mainly Scarlet . . . bleh.)
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Date: 2008-07-28 06:56 am (UTC)I worked 6 months in Nottingham and went to see the Sherwood forest - what's left of it. You may find it useful (or not) to this story but I learnt in the museum that the ' Sherwood forest' was not made entirely of woodland; it was a legal term describing the area where only the King (and his officers) were allowed to hunt. Robin Hood's likes probably started as poachers...
poison_key
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Date: 2008-07-28 09:38 am (UTC)Yeah, a lot of my medieval books mention the same thing. Watching the forests and land all was a big deal - watching for poachers, stuff like that. They were really strict about the land in those days, but then again they had to be. But thanks for confirming ^__^
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Date: 2008-07-28 11:13 am (UTC)I was trying to figure out how things were and it all fit together in the last few bits :) Very cool take on the 'verse! If it's been over a dozen years, Scarlet would be in his 20s/30s right?
And I really want to meet the Sheriff *_*
SO COOL. The more I think about Marion (she's usually a brunette so its def a change haha) and I like the switch where it isn't Robin arriving in Nottingham but Marion
When it comes to your stories, 6 pages is such a tease ;_;
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Date: 2008-07-28 01:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 04:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 07:31 pm (UTC)Anyway, I like it since the main character is Will Scarlet, having Robin Hood go with a women is not a bad story point.
Nice job, as always, very interesting and entertaining. I like the changes you have made and the way you have people speak.
I also like this line: "...He did not recognize them…but he had always spent far too much of his time admiring his friends, while they admire the girls."
I thought that was really cool.
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Date: 2008-07-28 09:37 pm (UTC)Sorry, sweet, you're mistaken. I said in a previous post I was not breaking up the robin/marion cannon.
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Date: 2008-07-28 09:39 pm (UTC)Heh. I guess it's a bit random, but I didn't want to just lather, rinse, repeat. And all the stuff I read says nothing is really ironclad, so I felt it was okay to contort at will.
Scarlet is 28, and Robin is 25 (switched them, ha!)
Sheriff will be appearing in a few more pages ^^
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Date: 2008-07-30 12:24 am (UTC)i mean, i know you got it laid out, but in your precious little bit of description, i want to make sure i get them straight.
(see? your miserly little descriptions, i treasure them!)
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Date: 2008-07-30 12:30 am (UTC)Hmm, that looks like it's probably a typo. I was confusing myself for a bit, at first. Scarlet is the elder, Robin the younger.
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Date: 2008-07-30 11:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-31 10:18 pm (UTC)