Wow! I'm back! Sorry, it's not an update. What can, I say school is crazy. There should be a couple of new stories up soon, a Avenger fic, and a Twilight fic. Be on the look out. This is an old story/poem, that has been hidden on my computer. Enjoy- Estel Pax
Sherwood Oh, Sherwood is Robin Hood awake? For his daughter Rowan is waiting at the lake. A daughter among outlaws is uncommon except in Sherwood.
"Come father to the glade", calls Rowan. They gather, she with her small band and he with his merry lads.
Clad in Lincoln green they stand, facing one enemy as a united band. Robin and Rowan tall in an archer's stance, nod. Rowan screams, "Charge!" while unleashing a volley of arrows. Swords clang, battle cries fill the air, blood runs for a battle has begun. Volley after volley of arrows, fell both enemy and band alike; a haze fills the air.
The battle dies down, the haze lifts. Rowan heals both bad, and band alike. All the while feast preparations have begun. The smell of roasting meat fills the air, bread made, fire stoked. "Rowan", calls Lionel, "let's go the feast, please hurry". Rowan enters glade looking very much like her fairy mother Celandine. Her band enters behind her each looking like who they are: a giant minstrel, a princess, a wild boy, and a trickster. On Rowan's hand gleams a strand of silver, a small token from her mother. Robin and his lads smile for each knows; this ring is what brought the band together. Lionel starts to complain of his aches and pains from the battle. Then he begins to sing of Arthur and his Lady Guinevere. Then he sings of Robin and Rowan each in turn. Father and daughter both legends is uncommon except in Sherwood.
An archer with a healer's hand, a father unknown. They are Robin and Rowan Hood. A family is among outlaws is impossible except in Sherwood.