Hey all. So I forgot to mention last time that I do not own Robin Hood (if I did, there would have been quite a few changes, I assure you!). So, no, I do not own Robin Hood, but I do own my mysterious character who will soon become not so mysterious :). Enjoy!
Movement. Thought. They both came with great difficulty. She wanted to move, she wanted to speak, but her limbs were too heavy and her thoughts were sluggish.
With great effort and much coaxing, her pale eyelids fluttered once, twice, and finally were able to remain open. Her sapphire blue eyes looked up at a cerulean blue sky through the branches of several trees, still laden with green leaves, waving in the gentle breeze.
She squinted her eyes in confusion, furrowing her brow. Her body ached and she surmised that she was laying on some sort of wooden bench or table. She felt more than saw that there were several people gathered about her and, licking her dry lips, she tried to push words through her parched throat. "Are we in a wood?" she asked, her voice soft and raspy.
A man's face appeared in her line of vision as she continued to stare confusedly at the sky. It was a handsome face with clear, pale blue eyes, a small mouth, and a nose that was slightly too large. His golden brown hair was tousled and a scanty beard covered his jaw line and upper lip, which cracked into a brilliant, crooked smile.
"Well, hello, there," he said and she recognized him as the sarcastic first man she had heard speak while fighting the darkness.
Turning her eyes back to the sky, she reached her right arm underneath her and began to push herself up off her back until she was in a sitting position, leaning on her left arm. She looked around herself and saw five men standing in what seemed like a hide-away in the woods. She had indeed been lying on a wooden table and the men crowded around it in a semi-circle, but none as close as that first man.
Her head was throbbing and she felt nauseous. Closing her eyes, she brought a hand to her forehead and placed the heel of her palm against it, pushing with a slight force, but a curiosity stole over her and she reopened her eyes to examine the men. Removing her hand a few inches from her head, she stared at each of the men, pointing at each one with a slightly curved finger as she studied each of them.
The man furthest to her left was a bear of a man, over seven feet tall and with dreadlocked hair to his shoulders. He held a bowl of soup in one of his large hands, while the other held a spoon halfway to his mouth, forgotten. The second man wore a shocked expression upon his face, his blue eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape. He wore a cloth cap over his reddish-blond hair to keep it from his face. Next to him was a man younger than the others and he was tall and lanky with dark hair, and a hatchet was hanging from his belt. The last man had dark blond hair that curled into his eyes and a short beard that covered his face and neck. He wore a green sweater and buckskin pants and his eyes were blue with dark lashes. He stood with his arms folded across his chest and feet spread wide.
The men all looked like ruffians, like they were men of the forest, yet two stood out as disturbingly familiar. She returned her pointing finger suddenly to the second man wearing the cloth cap, squinting her eyes in concentration.
Memory sparked and she breathed a single word, "Much."
Four male heads spun in the now stammering man's direction with clear astonishment.
"I don't believe we've met," Much finally managed to say. "Have we?"
She opened her mouth to speak when the man standing next to her placed a warm hand on her shoulder, gently steering her to lie back down. "You took quite a fall, maybe it's best you lie down for a bit," he said softly.
She smiled, allowing him to push her back to the table. Looking into his eyes, she joked, "Why? You mean that the forest is only spinning for me?"
The man looked immediately concerned, so, remembering the phrase she had heard him use earlier, she laughed, "And I was being funny."
The man gave a short bark of laughter and folded his arms across his chest.
She suddenly felt rather tired and rested back into the table, closing her eyes. They had only been closed a few seconds when she opened them to search out Much. She pointed at him with a lazy finger. "You were always one of my favorites, you know," she said sleepily. Her eyes were barely open so she was unable to see the confused and questioning looks being passed among the men. "You talked a lot," she continued. "My father and I used to call you Chatterbox. I didn't mind though, because you had the most amazing and amusing stories. You never patronized me; instead, you talked with me. You were the only one who did that. I never thanked you properly, so, thank you, Much. It meant the world to me." She trailed off slowly and finally her head drooped as she fell into a deep sleep.
Another short one, unfortunately, but stay tuned because, hopefully, soon I will have some time to write a bit more. What do you think so far? Please, please review!