Of Vertigo and Vindictiveness

"I dare you."

"Master, please. This is dangerous!"

"Be quiet Much… Well go on with it. Unless your scared, spooking like a filly."

The girl glares at him, her dark blond hair made lighter by the afternoon's bright sun. Her hands are on her hips as she stares him down, "I am not scared. I'm just gathering my plan of action."

At fifteen Robin towers above the small ten year old, gawking at her, attempting to plant that one seed of doubt in her mind that will sprout and blossom like the wildflower clumps in the back of the house.

"I don't think that you can."

"I know she can't. Master Robin, please. I am begging you, have I ever begged you for anything before?"

Robin looks his young manservant up and down, beginning to open his mouth to censure Much's last comment.

"Oh, never mind! But please, don't make her do this."

"I can do it, and I will do it!" with that out, the girl, Rebekah, wraps her arms about a large unflinching tree, desperately trying to pull herself up. Smiling impishly, Robin remembers how newly acquired this particular talent is. After a great deal of intense struggle, Rebekah reaches one of the top branches on the large greenwood tree. She crawls out onto the rough thick limb and maneuvers onto the roof, her destination.

"This is going to be awful! I can't watch. This will be all your fault," Much covers his eyes with his left hand, attempting to avert them from the impending disaster. He points a finger of his right hand dramatically at Robin, or at least tries to while the other one is concealing his face, "I wash my hands of it. She will be dead and I will not be to blame, only the two of you."

"Much, stop it. She'll be fine, won't you Rebekah?" He hollers up at her and notices, with a sharp intake of breath, that Rebekah slips slightly as she looks down at him. She nods her head solemnly - regaining her footing and gulping her heart back down into her rather dry and tight throat.

Once Robin knows that the danger has passed, he turns back to Much. "See-" he stops short, observing that his friend cannot. Robin snatches Much's hand way from his frightened eyes, "See. She's gonna be fine. All she has to do is walk the ridgepole to the end and back, then she can get down. Easy as riding a horse."

"But Master, she's never ridden a horse. You wont let her ride yours!"

"She'll be fine," he stresses the last word, having said it more times than he can remember. "She's not going to kick the bucket."

"What bucket? She's on a roof! There are no buckets up there. And why, in the name of the king, would she want to kick one?"

"That was a euphemism."

"Oh, a euphemism… What is that?"

Robin rolls his eyes, turning his back to the bewildered Much. By not receiving a swift reply, Much knows not to ask again, being as how Robin would only continue to ignore him. The blond boy wonders if he should begin paying better attention to Mother Binder's tutelage.

"Your doing fine, Rebekah, just fine. Keep going," Robin calls up, shielding his eyes from the bright midday sun.

Wafting her arms around multiple times, Rebekah finally makes it to the end of the ridgepole. "I did it! I did it! See, Robin. I told you I could do it!" Her triumphant yells make Robin want to hush her up, for fear of being discovered by her overprotective parents - nigh on his parents.

"Now all you have to do is come back."

In her overwhelming excitement, Rebekah takes a rather too large and quick step. She starts to tumble, trying to grab a hold of the thatched roof as she slides down. It tears through her fingers and she gives a muffled gasp as the situation comes under her complete comprehension. Time seems to stand still in every hourglass in England the very moment before she completely looses hold on the side of the straw roof - Rebekah hit's the ground with a stomach-wrenching thud.

Screaming! Much, pulls Robin from his shock. Robin stares, rather dumbfounded - uncomprehending, his legs still refuse to travel. Freshly addled, his brain finally comes to terms with the fact that she could be dead! And it would be his fault.

With this knowledge, Robin is the first to reach her, panic coursing over him. His little almost sister is not moving and laying in the oddest of styles. Robin drops to his knees, hesitating to touch her, lest he cause more harm or feel her limp and lifeless.

"Rebekah? Rebekah?" Sweat cascading down his face, he works up the nerve to touch her shoulder, Robin shudders as she finches involuntarily. "Rebekah, please. Please get up," hope fills his smothered heart as he watches her chest rise and fall.

Meanwhile, Much has run around from the back of the house, hands covering his gaping mouth. Shattering the wretched silence, Much hollers, "Is she alright? She's not dead is she? Tell me she's not! Oh, Master Robin!"

Moving his hand upwards and downwards to shush him, Robin practically whispers, "Keep your voice down. She's alive. But don't let Mother Binder know that she's hurt. Maybe - we can fix her?"

Much pauses, having to strain to hear what was murmured by his friend and master. The words are ultimately picked up by his ears, "We? But we don't know what to do! Mother Binder is the healer! She could be dying! We need to tell, someone!"

Robin shushes Much again, after this outburst, before he lays a cold and clammy hand onto her chest. "She's still breathing - that's a good sign." The young Lord of Loxley gets braver despite feeling still bilious and gives Rebekah a little shake. She groans at the sudden motion, it is muted though, as she is laying with her face pressed into her arm.

"Rebekah, wake up. Listen, can you hear me?" His paradoxical statement leads to her eye lids cracking, if she could get her head in order she would tell him that comment made no sense. Robin smiles broadly as her glazed blue eyes greet him, they just might make it out of the Sherwood yet. Feeling the repercussions of her fall, Rebekah moans again.

"Shush, your alive," it is indiscernible at this point, if Robin is soothing her or reprimanding his sister for scaring the pitch right out of him.

"I am?" Rebekah blinks up at him, trying to focus on the older youth. "Are you sure I'm not in Hell?"

"Of course not! Why would you think that?"

"You're here."

"Oh, hahaha, very funny. She's fine Much. Get up you faker."

Obviously not faking Rebekah struggles to her feet, grunting with pain at the movement. Robin offers her his arm as support while Much walks over. Rebekah leans against him as she tries to put weight on her right foot, but finds that it hurts horrifically to lean into him on her left side. Tears threaten to spill over her eyelids but she holds them back, reminding herself that Robin never cries when he is hurt. Finally she is able to wobble on her own two feet, Much and Robin on each side lest she fall down. Robin looks into her eyes, his own full of concern. Rebekah smiles - thinking that it is for her, rightly deserved too.

Gripping her shoulder, Robin pulls her out of Much's grasp and pivots her to face him, "You won't tell your mother about this will you? I'm to big to stand in the corner anymore." Anger appears in Rebekah's eyes and she is taken aback at his utter lack of concern now that she is walking, but only for a moment. Her face calms - far too serenely in truth but Robin, oblivious, looks relieved -mentally feeling his own hide safe. Contemplating for a moment, Rebekah returns his gaze, with not a little menace in her pools of blue, "And what will you give me to ensure that I do not tell?"

Robin sighs, wondering if it would save him months of problems and trials if he would confess to his own crime. It takes him a trice, however, to recall that telling Mother Binder would implicate Much and Rebekah as well. His weathered face flashes into a mischievous grin, "I think that I'll just tell her, then we'll all be punished justly."

"Not I!" Much exclaims. "I had no part this scheme."

Shaking his head, Robin states, in matter of fact tone, "Ah, but you did not tell her what we were going to do. You are as guilty as Rebekah and I."

Rebekah attempts to stomp her foot, but this action almost causes her to spiral down to the dirt. The two boys pull her up again, when her knees buckle.

As if a new world altering thought only now encroached into his mind, Robin holds up one of his index fingers and says, "I have a splendid idea! Why don't we just keep this bit of information to ourselves? - I don't know about you, but it sounds like a wonderful plan to me."

The pain, having completely taken over the logical part of her mind, causes Rebekah to seethe, "But where, dear brother, would be the fun in that?"

A/N Well… What did you think? Please tell me. I really would rather not beg but I will if I don't hear what you thought of it. You don't want to see me grovel - I guarantee you that it won't be pretty. Thank you for reading and please review. By the by I have no clue if they used the saying kick the bucket back in the 1100s but most likely not… I used it for my story, as I know BBC took many liberties with their's. Also, I don't own Robin Hood BBC but I do like to borrow the characters, but if you don't see them again know that they are being well looked after - by me.