So here's chapter 5. I have to admit that I had trouble with the Allan/Djaq scene, so please review and tell me if it was ok! I've been trying to keep the canons as in-character as possible. Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Pig-The-Prophetess: Thank you so so much. Of all the stories I've written, this has been the easiest and the best. Your review inspired me to get this chapter up, even if it is 11pm at night! Thanks again, it can be hard to get people to read a story written by a thirteen year old!

Kates Master's Sister: Haha! I solved the problem! I thought over an excuse for her name, and here it is! Thanks for reviewing!!


"Why are you called Kioka?" A five-year-old Safiya asked, brown eyes wide as she stared at her friend. It was late summer and the leaves above their heads were beginning to transform from green to amber, gold and scarlet. The two girls were enjoying the afternoon sun, taking a picnic in the gardens of Safiya's family home. The Obemaek gardens displayed some of the most beautiful and exotic plants in the world, courtesy of Safiya's physician father who used their various parts for his medicines.

"That's a silly question," Kioka told her. "It's my name."

"Yeah, but it's not a normal name. No one else is called Kioka."

"Well, maybe I don't want to be everyone else."

"You're only saying that because your name's weird." Safiya stuck her tongue out at her best friend. She reached for the plate of biscuits, frowning at the discovery it was empty.

"No it's not!" Kioka cried angrily and Safiya grinned.

"Kioka's got a weird name, Kioka's got a weird name..."

"I have not!"

"Weird name, weird name, weird name..."

"Shut up! You're so mean!" Kioka yelled furiously. Safiya giggled. Kioka glared, and she obediently fell silent, looking down at her plate.

"I'm sorry Kioka," she offered apologetically, looking pitifully at her through huge, round eyes. "Your name's not weird."

"I forgive you," Kioka stated grandly, reaching over to pat her friend's hand. "Anyway, my name's special."

"How?" Safiya asked sceptically.

"It's my great-great-aunt's name," Kioka replied proudly. "Father told me."

"You have a great-great-aunt? Wow, she must be old!" Safiya's eyes were wide.

"She's dead now," Kioka explained. "But she was from China. My name's from China, so there!"

"I wish I had a great-great-aunt from China," Safiya sighed wishfully. "So I could have a really cool name. I'm stuck with boring old 'Safiya' forever."

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Djaq sighed as she sat in camp, on watch duty. She was perched cross-legged upon a tree stump, on top the mound that covered their underground camp, where she could see everything around her. It was late night and the cold wind pierced her thin clothing with ease. She pulled the blanket a bit tighter, longing for hot days and the warmth of a golden sun. It was only at night that she got this ridiculous nostalgia. Djaq firmly believed that regrets were pointless, living in the past even more so. In that day she held to her theory, living for today and her gang. It was in the cold, lonely nights that her mind whispered of home and brought back memories from her childhood.

She didn't miss Safiya most of the time. When the sun was shining, when she was with her friends, when they were helping people she was perfectly content. This life, this name, this role suited her more than her childhood had ever done. However, on this empty night when the moon was invisible, blocked out by black branches and leaves, she admitted to herself that life hadn't been all bad. Indeed, a part of her still held to the precious memories of her youth, the times spent fighting with her brother, learning from her father and playing with her best friend. She did miss it. But only sometimes.

A movement beside her made her jump slightly. It was, surprisingly, Allan. He came to sit beside her, bringing his own blanket up from their underground camp.

"I'm surprised to see you here," Djaq commented. "Normally I have to scream in your ear to get you to wake up for your turn." Allan shrugged.

"I couldn't sleep. Not to mention, Will kept stealing the blankets. So I stole his." He held up the stolen blanket with a grin, and Djaq couldn't help laughing.

"He's not going to be happy at all, when he wakes," she told him.

"I'm not being funny but he shouldn't steal mine then," Allan replied, stretching. "God, it's freezing out here."

"I didn't notice," Djaq remarked dryly. Allan grinned.

"I'd have thought you'd feel the cold more than the rest of us, you know. You come from a desert and all."

"I've got used to it," Djaq shrugged. "I used to mind a lot. You don't know a summer sun's warmth until you've felt it."

"I know how to feel summer just as good as any man can," Allan replied, settling into a more comfortable position on the tree stump beside her. Djaq laughed.

"If you're talking about your English 'summers', then you've got no idea what a real summer is. The hottest I've ever been here is like winter where I come from."

"Now that's unfair," Allan objected. "We've had some pretty good summers. Just you wait until you see a midsummer ball. When the King returns, we'll have a huge one, all of Nottingham. Hundreds of glowing lanterns, lively music, plenty of food and wine of course. All the women dressed in their best, flowers and ribbons in their hair. And all the dancing! Nothing beats a midsummer ball, nothing on earth." Djaq raised an eyebrow, mouth set in a smile.

"I can't wait to see it," she remarked, chin propped up on one hand.

"Of course, I'm the best when there's a ball," Allan continued, waving his hands as he spoke. "Ask anyone. Dancing, drinking, talking – no one beats me at those. I'm not being funny, but one time I went through a whole village of girls in one night. They'll all tell you it was the best night of their life."

"I'm sure they'll mention your modesty too," Djaq put in, grinning.

"It'll be great, just you wait and see. We'll all be there. Me, you, Will, John, Much, Robin - and Marian of course. Robin will be Lord of Locksley, Gisborne will be long gone and –" He suddenly cut himself off, dropping Djaq's gaze. She frowned.

"And what, Allan?" He shook his head slightly, before looking up again, his usual grin marginally smaller.

"Never mind. You get the idea." Djaq wasn't at all fooled, and her expression said as much. "Come on; use your imagination a little. Didn't you ever have a dance where you come from?" Deciding to re-interrogate him later, Djaq shrugged.

"I suppose. For important events. I remember, for the eldest princess' marriage there was a huge ceremony. The entire city was involved, and visitors poured in from all over the world. It was breathtaking. The dancers, the food, the fire eaters and magicians and juggler; the princess made sure that no one would have a marriage quite as grand as hers. The amount of money her dress cost could've bought half the city! The entire over-robe was made of miniature diamonds linked with gold chains. The whole city was a blaze of colours, for a whole week; everyone dressed in their brightest, most expensive clothing. You could dance the whole night if you wanted to, to the most beautiful music in the world." Allan took a deep breath as Djaq trailed off. She gave a slight sigh at the memory of that week, and then shook her head, embarrassed. She hadn't planned on telling him so much, but Allan was so easy to talk to.

"Alright, so maybe we haven't had anything quite like that," he admitted, and Djaq gave a relieved laugh. "I'm not being funny, but I can't think of anything to rival that. You've just made England's best celebration look like my aunt's birthday tea."

"Allan A Dale finally admits defeat? This should go down in history!"

"Not so loud, wouldn't want anyone to find out about it." He put a finger to her laughing lips and she shoved him off the stump.

"You have watch duty," she informed him with a grin as she stepped over him. "And my bed is calling to me. Good night, oh Lord of the Dance."

"That's 'King' to you!" Allan retorted loudly, brushing leaves of his clothes as she walked down the hill laughing.

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Marian couldn't sleep that night. No matter how many times she closed her eyes or changed her position, her mind couldn't rest. Opposite her, Roseanna was bathed in moonlight. She resembled Sleeping Beauty, Marian thought angrily, wishing she could throw her pillow into her smug cousin's face. Even in sleep she looked evil, rosy mouth twisted in a sinister smile. Looking at her only served to increase Marian's frustration, and in vain she turned over and shut her eyes tightly. The sheets were too hot; she realised and threw them off only to discover that she was far too cold without them. Getting out of bed in rage, she ran her hands through her messy black curls. Opening the door, she entered the next room. Her father was asleep peacefully for the first time in weeks; the sight brought a small smile to Marian's tired eyes. Kioka slept on the other side of the room, in case Sir Edward needed anything. She slept curled up in a ball, appearing exhausted as she hugged the blankets to her. Somehow she looked far more innocent when she slept.

The past day had been one of the worst of her life. When Roseanna had seen her dress, the first thing she had done was sneer, 'Is this it? I wouldn't let the maid be seen in that'. After berating and belittling Marian, she had thrust the dress at Kioka and taken Marian out shopping herself. Then followed three torturous hours of Marian standing on a stool while several dressmakers bustled around her. Roseanna stood nearby, offering snide remarks such as: 'That may need letting out to accommodate for my cousin's stomach.' Eventually she had been presented with the most expensive and ugly dress she had ever owned. The very thought of it made her fists clench.

Next to her father's bed was an armchair. Marian climbed into, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her head against the backrest. Her mind buzzed with thoughts of Roseanna and Robin, Sherwood and Nottingham, her father and the Night Watchman. She closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep. All she needed was a few hours. After all, no one could reach her in her sleep.