A/N: I'm not sure if anyone out here is still reading Robin Hood fics, I was rather late to the party. I couldn't help myself from joining in though.
I'm going to be using a lot of real life history here, a little altered, of course, but if you watched the show I doubt you'll be too offended by my time line shenanigans.
I've got several chapters already written, it does get better, (the start is always the hardest) and I've done my best to stay true to the characters without ignoring anyone too much. Again, it'll improve as I go, my writing is a little rusty.
Lastly I plan on using a certain amount of French, however any thing of relevance will be translated (not in a redundant way, hopefully), I wanted to be more authentic and use Occitan French, however I can't be bothered to learn the language (difficult to translate), I'm fluent in modern French and they use modern English, so 'Parisian French' it is.
Tl; dr: If you're out there, please give me a sign?
"Job well done!" Robin shook the bag in his hand, a gratifying clinking sound answered as the coins jolted together. He almost wished they hadn't knocked all the soldiers out, he did so love the angry, resentful look on their faces when they'd been beaten. "No horses, Gisborne."
Guy scowled from the saddle of the horse he'd just mounted, "We are miles away from the camp."
"Yeah, but right now we're England's most wanted. I'm not taking the risk."
"Fine, then I won't go back to camp. Someone needs to check on Nottingham anyway," Said Guy, leaning back in the saddle. It had been ages since he'd managed to get a horse, and he really, really hated all the walking.
"This," Robin held up the bag of gold, "Has got to go back to camp to that Tuck and Archer can take in onto our friend for the King's ransom."
"So? You know the way."
"We do not split up, Gisborne! Those are the rules. No one wanders off alone it's too risky."
Guy smirked, "Scared of going back on your own, Hood?"
"No," Robin let out an annoyed breath, "I just don't feel like coming to rescue you later. You don't exactly go unnoticed." He eyed the black leather armor which Guy had refused to shed despite the most compelling arguments such as sticking out like a sore thumb in the forest.
"Thank you."
"That was not a compliment!"
Guy titled his head sideways and shrugged, "I won't be seen. I'm hardly going to charge an army head on. I'll meet you back at camp," He had already maneuvered the horse towards Nottingham, "Without the horse," He added as he trotted off.
As Guy reached outskirts of the forest closest to Notthingham he could see the distant tents, as well as hundreds of soldiers whiling away their time around camp fires. The distant sounds of shifting and breaking rocks echoed about, along with the clinking of chains. To avoid spending too much money on the reconstruction they had transferred all prisoners from the surrounding dungeons to substitute the labor. Rumors had it, it was a worse punishment than a flogging or hanging. They were underfed and overworked, dawn 'till dusk, sometimes even at night by torchlight, with an ever present overseer, his whip ready to crack at the first faltering step.
The construction, however, was advancing swiftly. Already two levels were completed, the third almost finished.
He briefly toyed with the idea of getting a closer look, but opted out as one of the squadron leaders came out and started ordering the men to do some maneuvers. Turning back to the forest he set off, riding a safe distance before dismounting regretfully and letting the horse loose.
"Creses tu aus fantaumas?" Seven year old Arthur asked as he sat himself back down in the carriage, though his eyes were still staring out of the carriage window in utter fascination. The rain had subsided, but the mist was thickening, making the lights from the passing houses look like glowing ghouls in the young child's eyes.
"I told you, once we cross the border it's English or French," Sighed his cousin as she twirled a loose curl around her finger, "But there are no more ghosts here than there were in Aquitaine." Her voice tinted with a slight accent.
Arthur seemed disappointed by her answer, huffing as he crossed his arms.
"Are we nearly there?" Asked Arthur, kicking opposing bench, he had been cooped up in the carriage since the early hours of the morning, and was beyond frustrated. He'd begged and begged to be allowed to ride instead, but he was only allowed on on ponies, the journey was too far for one animal and they could not guarantee another suitable mount could be found along the way.
"Probably," Answered Helen, she'd never been this far north before, but surely they stop soon, whether they had arrived in Nottinghamshire or not.
"I am not a kitchen wench!"
"I never said you wer-"
"Oh, you do not need to say it! Your treatment of me is proof enough!"
"Much, I'm sure Archer never meant-" Tuck tried to mediate, but to no avail.
"Of course he didn't mean it, no one ever means anything do they? But do you ever stop to think what impact the things you do not mean might have-"
"Shut up." The force of Guy's voice was enough to stun Much into silence, as Guy came trudging up to the camp, his walk having put in a less that favorable mood.
"Can't believe I'm going to say this, but I'm glad you're back," Said Robin, giving Guy a genuine smile. Much was very sensitive when it came to Archer, with almost anything the young man said getting under his skin. It was understandable, Archer was Robin's brother, a place that Much had occupied for longer than he cared to remember, and was obviously worried about being replaced.
Robin made a note that he needed to take Much aside sometime, reassure him, the way he had when he first mentioned his engagement to Marian, and then several times subsequently...
Much eyed Guy wearily, but said nothing until Guy had sat and the smaller man had handed him a plate of rather dubious looking stew.
"Thank you," Muttered Guy, though it was muffled by his first bite. He was so hungry he didn't really take the time to taste the food, if it did, in fact, have any taste.
"Yeah, well we all know about your history with kitchen workers," Much hadn't actually meant to say that out loud. Especially not while he still in stabbing range of Gisborne, unarmed aside from a ladle up against Guy's very, very long sword.
There was a moment of incredibly tense silence, Guy eyed Much, and everyone eyed Guy. Robin's hand curled around the bow at his side, John brought his staff closer to his side. Tuck was already planning a calming speech in his head. Archer looked rather amused, he had yet to witness the extent, or rather lack of, his brother's temper. Kate guiltily hoped all hell would break loose, so they could finally be rid of the devil in their camp.
"You're not my type."
The tension dispelled, and after a few seconds of that sinking in, Robin laughed, soon followed by the others. Even Kate had to smile, though she quickly wiped it off her face as soon as she realized.
The conversation soon started up again, as Archer told one of his "exotic" stories, earning himself more than one scolding look, Guy gave his update on Nottingham Castle, Much filled in any silent gap he could.
"I have got some good news," Announced Robin, as Guy had finished, "I found this, and our friends here aren't awfully fond of Burgundy wine." Robin held up the rounded bottle by it's long, slim neck. By the looks of it, he'd already sampled a bit.
"Actually, whilst I was Lord of Bonchurch-"
"You told us it tasted like donkey piss," Put in John, Much scowled as the others laughed, but brightened again as Robin offered him tankard of, ever so slightly, watered down ale instead.
The fun, however, was short lived as a blood curling scream pierced the air. It was high pitched, most likely a child.
"Split up, if you find anything, shout out!" It was already done by time Robin gave the order, as the outlaws dispersed among the dark trees, weapons in hand.
Guy had taken off without really any particular direction in mind, but the sound of a scuffle caught his ear, he could just make out a large figure in the distance, towering over a much smaller one. He ran towards the pair as a movement further behind the hill caught his eye.
There was another scream but it turned to a whimper as the larger figured slumped to the floor, an arrow firmly embedded between his shoulder blades. Guy met Archer halfway as they arrived in front of a terrified boy.
Guy made a move towards him, but the child recoiled, "Laissez moi tranquille!"
Getting over his momentary surprise, and ignoring Archer's questioning look, Guy crouched down, "Je ne te veux pas de mal," He said as reassuringly as possible, himself stunned at the gentleness of his voice. Maybe it was just because it was in French? Maybe he was just mimicking the way his mother used to speak. The boy's eyes were still wide with fear, but he was standing his ground and the shaking had subsided, somewhat, "Comment tu t'appelles?"
"Arthur," The child answered, somewhat timidly, his eyes darting about him as he heard others approaching, Guy held up his hand, hoping to halt them, doubting Arthur would take too kindly to being surrounded at the moment.
Robin caught Kate as tried to go past him, "Wait."
"He's a child, he's terrified!" She protested, but Robin didn't loosen his grip on her arm.
"I think Guy's got it."
"You're joking right?" She snapped, then turned to John who had appeared to her right, hoping for some support but she just got a helpless shrug, "You're out of your mind, the lot of you!"
"Et vous?" Asked the boy, surprising Guy, not many children scared out of their wits would remember to use the polite form, hell he'd been chastised for informality on more than one occasion when his temper had got the better of him.
"Guy," He replied, giving the boy a half smile, which he hesitantly returned.
"Comme mon beau-père," Replied Arthur, a slightly more confident tone to his voice, his eyes drifted to the corpse on the floor, eyes resting on the protruding arrow for a few seconds before flitting to the man standing a little further back, holding the bow, "Et lui?"
"Archer," Guy glanced over his shoulder as he answered, "C'est mon frère."
Although Archer didn't understand a word of what he guessed was French, he was paying enough attention to realize he'd just been introduced, and gave the boy a nod and smile.
"Et les autres?" Arthur questions, glancing around the clearing at the shadowy figures moving around him, an involuntary shiver running down his spine. Guy stood and turned to the others, calling for them to come down and introduce themselves.
Arthur considered letting them know he could, in fact, speak English but decided against it. He'd have a better chance of escape, should he need it, if they believed he couldn't understand what they said amongst themselves.
He warily eyed the large man who had been introduced as "Little John", the big man caught his glance and gave a surprisingly warm smile, "It's okay, no one's going to hurt you."
The calm of the situation was once again disrupted as they heard shouting, and the pounding of hooves echoing up from the forest floor. In the distance they could see several torches.
"Back to camp," Ordered Robin, "Now!"
So here we have the scene set...More or less. The final plot will take a little more time to develop but I'm trying to stick to an "episode like" formula, this being the first quarter of an episode.
Little Arthur is a real historical character and has even featured in a couple of other Robin Hood series.
Anyone out there?