"So, do you want to go explore?" Marian asked. She certainly wanted to delve into the secrets of Sherwood. As her lady-in-waiting, I was in charge of her welfare, but also attending to her wishes. This had left me in troublesome spots in the past.

"I…Don't really want to, no," I said, trying to be tactful about it.

"Oh. How 'bout just around camp, then," she said, leaving no room for refusal. No use arguing with a redhead. I sighed, gathering up my green skirts. If I had known this whole scenario would be happening, I most certainly would have tried to wear some other color. After all, I didn't want to be thought of as endorsing outlaws. Oh, what a bad thought. Sherwood was getting to my head.

"Hey! It's… Girls!" someone called. A face appeared above a bush. It was the red-clad outlaw. However much he may have looked nice, he had the manners of a particularly impolite beetle. I wasn't sure what I might've said, not having contemplated possible conversations and/or retorts with outlaws in my spare time. So, fortunately for me, Marian spoke up.

"Nice to see you too Scarlet." Now I knew three outlaws—Much, Scarlet, Robin Hood. Oh dear. Remembering names was NOT the thing to do. Pretty soon I'd be living amongst them, wearing green tunics and stealing purses and eating the king's deer and running around with sharp objects and I shouldn't let my imagination run off like that. I was not on good terms with the creative part of my brain.

"Oh—Never mind, it's just Marian. Oh! And another one!"

"That's my handmaid and very good friend Becca. Don't scare her off," Marian warned. I can take care of myself, thank you very much, Marian. Oh, well. I suppose she was being nice. Marian, being nice? Sherwood must be getting to her head, too.

"Forget it. She's with Marian," Scarlet yelled to the outlaws. They, who had been running over, disappointedly slowed down. They all crowded around anyway, though. I edged closer to Marian. Whether for her sake or mine, I don't really know, but either way, it made me feel better. I gave a slight curtsey and polite smile to the outlaws. Marian smirked at me.

"They aren't all that bad."

"Yes we are!" said a particularly tall one.

"That's Little John. And they really aren't, they just like to think they are." Ha. They were just as bad as they said. They were outlaws, after all!

"Who's making dinner?" Robin shouted. The men dispersed immediately. "Fine. Davy, you're in charge of the food, and don't forget we have thirteen mouths tonight. The rest of you, we need to discuss something."

"Come on, let's keep looking around," Marian said, pulling me along. With much reluctance, I followed as she gave me a tour of every tree and rock in a hundred foot radius. Fascinating.

Fortunately for my quickly-decreasing attention, the stew was done before too long.

"Food!" someone hollered. Marian and the nine others dashed to the pot, sweeping me along with them. Guy remained sullenly tied to the tree. Somehow a line was formed, Marian and I somewhere in the middle, amongst muddy, dirty, smelly, happy, hungry, green-wearing outlaws. A wooden bowl half-filled with watery mush was handed to me. What a dinner. It was liberally supplemented with views of Sir Guy being fed the stuff, though. That had Marian and me giggling the whole night, sitting in the outskirts with me trying to ignore the men and she yelling insults back and forth with them. All in all, a surprisingly nice afternoon walk with Guy.

I hated birds. Especially in the morning. If I had my way, I would probably turn them all into pies, or some other delectable concoction. (Can you tell I was hungry?) Morning had arrived, bringing along the most annoying tweeting things I'd ever heard in my life. Not to mention the fresh realization that I'd spent a night in the greenwood with a bunch of wolf-heads. I scrambled to my feet, examining the clearing. Gisbourne was asleep, or at least so I deduced from his relaxed pose. In fact, everyone was still abed (excluding the bed. Dirt was the best they seemed to have in June). Well, no, Marian was up, and she was staring at Robin Hood, who appeared to be sleeping in a rather lofty tree. I now knew he was crazy. Somehow, Marian wasn't looking at him quite like that…

"Marian," I whispered. "Hi. Morning." She effervesently turned to me.

"Good morning! Wonderful morning! How did you sleep?"

"Well enough. Do you have to be so loud in the morning?"

"Of course! Nothing wakes me up better!" She turned back to the still-resting Robin.

"Whoever said you had to be awake?" I grumbled. At that moment, Robin's eyes finally opened. He sprang up, landing neatly on a branch above. He looked quite startled, and I had the impression he didn't exactly know what we were doing here and whether or not we would try to shoot him, but that passed in a blink and he jumped down.

"A morning of most high esteem!" What was it with people and mornings in Sherwood? Marian and Robin got into an animated conversation about fish. I didn't see how folks could concentrate on fish that early in the day. I did get a little less weirded-out when some of the others arose. They weren't as insanely cheerful as Robin and Marian, who were talking about something different, but equally thought-provoking, as he heated up barely-existent leftovers from the night before for breakfast. Marian tossed the occasional plant into the pot. I decided that I should probably go find a stream so I could survive being around two such energy-filled people. Luckily for me and my nonsense of direction, I chanced to spot a few outlaws with the same plan, whom I followed discreetly.

"So what did you think about the final decision?" Little John asked Will Scarlet.

"Well, I personally would've gone for an honorable duel sort of thing, just since it's more fun, but sending ol' Gisbourne off with rags and minus that black dragon of his… Not a bad idea." Birds were chirping at maximum aggravation level now. Dark green leaves, just recently touched by sunrays, rattled with the flutterings of the creatures, who must've been dealing with a full-fledged war at the rate they were zooming around and screeching. Birds. I inwardly reiterated my desire to cook them all. The two outlaws in front of me, one remarkably large and the other all decked out in cardinal colors, ignored them and carried on their conversation.

"Speaking of sending people off, what do you think Marian and that maid of hers are going to end up doing?" Little John wondered.

"No idea. You know Marian. I wouldn't be surprised if she got herself a permanent post with us."

"I don't know 'bout that," Little John replied. "Seriously, that maid looked none too happy about this whole set-up. And you saw how well she looks after Marian."

"Yeah. It's too bad, in a way. She seems like she'd be an asset if she could get over her fear of outlaws. I mean, not only can she handle Marian, she can look pretty cute when she's not scowling at us." I scowled at them. They still hadn't noticed me trailing after them. Not long after this, they halted at a ditch pretending to be a stream, with its combination of mud and water. Oddly enough, they seemed to have a great deal of fun splashing and pushing and slipping and so forth. Just looking at how messy their tunics were getting made me glad Marian wasn't doing the same. After what seemed like hours, they headed back to the clearing, far more awake and refreshed than they had been. I made my own way to the stream, trying not to get quite as muck-covered as Scarlet and Little John had. For the most part, I succeeded, and headed back to camp mostly clean and dry.

"Here you are," Scarlet was saying to Guy, tossing him a bundle of misshapen cloth (how bundled cloth can be misshapen, I didn't know, but it was). Marian pranced over to me.

"They ended up deciding that they'd give Guy—"

"I know. I overheard. Has anything else happened this morning while I was splashing at that abominable ditch?"

"Not really. They're planning on having breakfast once Gisbourne leaves, so there won't be that extra stomach."

"Wait…Now Guy knows you're friends with the outlaws, though, so won't he be trying to get at you constantly from now on?"

"Yeah, well, see, this is where there's been a little disagreeing…" Marian murmured.

"Not really," Robin broke in. "She likes to think there is, but really, it's already been decided that you and Marian will go back home, and I'll send a few of my men to watch Guy. That way everyone but Marian and Guy is happy. What do you think?" Stunningly enough, I actually liked this outlaw chief's idea. Marian frowned.

"No! I refuse to put on that stuff!" Guy protested when the ragged garments were pressed into his arms (which were now tied in front of him instead of behind). "You accursed Saxons! I will not be forced into meek subversion by the likes of you!" One could tell he didn't really know what certain longer words meant. It drew a grin from Marian. Half of the outlaws (which, at that moment, meant five) sleepily escorted him out of view, probably home. Marian tried to get back on the track in which she and Robin argued over whether or not she could stick around in Sherwood.

"Good luck getting him under control. Speaking of which, Becca and I will be staying a week or two, so Guy can have a little time to cool down."

"Nope. What about your family? I'm sure your father is already sending out search-and-rescue squadrons. Oh—I forgot. You'll need a cover story, if you don't already have one," Robin said. He was very carefully sharpening a knife. The sound it made grated not only on everyone's ears, but their nerves as well, which had lost a little something to begin with, being woken up so early.

"I can lie," Marian said indignantly.

"This is true," I muttered. Many incidents testified to this questionable talent of hers. Robin, seeming satisfied as to her welfare, kept honing the blade, despite certain men inching closer with unpleasant expressions.

"All right then." He stopped with the knife, much to everyone's relief and his own health. "Have we had breakfast yet? I've forgotten. Oh, we haven't? Okay, then. After breakfast, we'll send you two home. Breakfast. Who's making breakfast?"



Well. If you've read one of my other RH stories, you might see some similarities. Hope you don't mind. By the way, it's not a sequel, though perhaps it'll turn into a prequel. Review! please.