A/N: This was inspired by the prompt "Green" from the 100 Fanart challenge.
The Giant Danger signs still ran along the paths in Sherwood Forest, but these days they permanently read LOW, as long as the enormous pickles were able to taste cooked ham regularly. While the giant pickles had their pick of the king's deer, ham was their favorite dish, and they only approached smaller veggies when they had a hankering for some good cooking.
To help them avoid scaring villagers, Robin Good saw to it that a steady shipment of pork products made it to the family of pickles living deep within the green forest. With the local economy improving under the Sheriff of Bethlingham's direction, people had a little more good to spare these days, and many veggies were willing to donate a penny or two in the name of public safety. A few butchers also donated meat where they could, thinking a few tax write-offs was nicer than dealing with a hungry giant.
Whenever he raised enough food, Robin loaded up a cart with his hogshead barrels of ham, and he hitched up his sheep (since he did not own a horse) and drove them into the giants' territory. The colossal pickles were nearly always on the move in search of deer, and sometimes it could take Robin hours to find one, but he could usually arrange to meet the big father of the giant family. From their limited dialogue, Robin had learned his friend was called Zur. Sometimes, Zur brought along his wife, Zama, or one or two of his children, the youngest of which was a toddler a good head taller than Robin.
Robin whistled merrily as his cart ambled along the main highway, reflecting on how nice it was not to move cautiously through the forest these days. His Lincoln green tunic and hat had been more than fashion statements. On a cucumber living in a giant-infested forest, they had been essential camouflage — at least, they had seemed so. Now that he knew Zur and his family meant no real harm, living and traveling within the forest had become more pleasant.
After fifteen or twenty minutes, he came upon a boulder which marked the entry of Zur's usual hunting ground, and he lifted his head, scanning for any signs of the big fella. He pulled out his hunting bugle and blasted three notes, which bounced off the trees and sped into the distance.
"Zur! Oh, Zur!" he called out, mingling the echoing with his call. "Olly olly oxen free!"
The stillness of the forest remained, broken only by the twittering birds and the clattering cartwheels, but Robin's sharp ears gradually caught a faint rumble. He sounded his horn again, and the deep sound grew steadily closer. Smiling, Robin steered the sheep toward it, and he followed a path through the trees.
Soon, he reached a clearing, where he waited until a tall, thick shape threaded its way through the verdant branches to meet him. He was nearly as tall as a castle turret and just as wide. A brown beard lined his jawline, providing the majority of the hair on his yellow-green head. He wore patched-up, sack-like trousers with a wide belt, and he carried a large club. The huge eyes scanned the clearing, and he broke into a smile when he spotted the (comparatively) small cucumber.
"Rob!" the giant pickle greeted him, but with his booming, raspy voice, it sounded more like, "RAAAWB!"
"Got a bunch of hams for ya," Robin chirped, hopping off the buckboard.
The giant did not speak much English, but his eyes lit up in recognition at the word "hams." Robin grabbed a crowbar and popped open the top of one hogshead. He rapped the crowbar against the rim in a welcoming way.
"Eat up, buddy."
Grinning, Zur lifted the barrel and tossed the first ham into his mouth like it were popcorn. He made a noise of appreciation, carrying the hogshead over to a boulder, where he settled.
Robin settled on a log near him, watching with amusement to see a big guy like him act like a little kid who had discovered cake for the first time. He used to think giants were animalistic creatures who had nothing in their brains except to smash things and to gobble up tiny veggies, but in befriending Zur, he had learned that giants were intelligent beings who spoke their own language, told each other stories, had their own holidays, and even did a few fundraisers.
When Zur had finished most of the hams, Robin picked up a stick. Although they did not speak the same language, Robin and Zur often drew pictures in the dirt to communicate. First, Robin drew a sun, then made three tally marks. Beneath that, he drew a ham leg. He turned to Zur, pointing at the pictures with the stick.
"I'll bring you more hams in three days," he promised. "The butchers will have them ready by then."
Zur, to his surprise, shook his head. Robin offered him the stick, and the pickle drew a fourth tally mark, then he sliced a fifth diagonally across the cluster. He pointed at it with a deliberate jab.
"Zama," he said in explanation.
"Oh, you want to bring Zama with you in five days?" Robin guessed, nodding cheerfully. "That's cool. Zama is good."
Robin drew two long cylinder shapes, then a short one beside them. He put smiley faces inside each one and pointed to them in turn.
"Zur, Zama" — he jabbed towards the smaller — "Robin!"
Zur nodded, showing he understood. Robin hesitated, then drew a fourth figure. He made a circle for the head, gave it a thin torso, then drew a triangle beneath to represent a gown.
"Marian," he explained. "Zur and Zama. Robin and Marian."
"Ma-ri-an?" Zur repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"She's an old friend," Robin smiled. "She'll be in Bethlingham next week to raise funds for wounded soldiers back from the war. She's really nice, and she's been wanting to meet you. You'll like her."
Zur munched thoughtfully, studying the pictures. He took the stick, tapping his bearded chin.
"Zama mae Zur nini laa," he said in a companionable tone.
Robin nodded. He had figured out laa meant something like "wife" or "sweetie" or "my pickle-wickle snookums baby doll," since Zur used it constantly when he spoke about Zama. Zur said a few more things before he drew a heart between himself and his wife.
"Marian mae Rob nini laa ra?"
Robin drew back. "Pardon?"
"Marian mae Robin nini laa ra?" Zur repeated calmly. He drew a heart between Marian and Robin.
Robin laughed, quickly shaking his head. "No, not my laa. My friend."
"Ahhhh, hahaha!" Zur used the side of the stick to nudge him. "Rob tas hu Marian! Laa, laa, laa!"
"Friend, friend, friend!" Robin insisted, snatching the stick away. He drew an X through the second heart, but Zur threw back his head and guffawed.
"Eh, laa min se," he ribbed, before he started speaking in a singsong way which made Robin think he was performing the giants' equivalent of "Robin and Marian sitting in a tree…"
"Even the giant is on my case," Robin huffed.
His merry men had been teasing him ever since Marian had sent him a letter asking for his help with her upcoming fundraiser. Robin had shrugged it off at first; the merry men did not have a whole lot to talk about in the forest besides archery and fundraising, but the joke had started to wear thin.
"Look," Robin had declared to his friends the night before, "just because we grew up together, and went to our senior prom together, and we used to hold a lot of fundraisers together, that doesn't mean we're going to end up together."
"But if she were interested, you wouldn't mind dating her?" Bill Scarlet had asked innocently.
"Not at all, but—" Robin had started to respond before his friends had burst out laughing.
Now, Robin got to his feet and set to work unloading the rest of the cart. Zur quieted, noticing Robin's embarrassment, and gave him a kind look. He gestured with his club, shrugging carelessly.
"Ehhh, Zama mae Zur nini laa, aber kani Rob zimlob," he said in a tone like an older brother giving advice. "Rob aah, Rob nini laa, jazer laa."
"I don't know exactly what you said," Robin answered, calming down, "but I appreciate the thought."
He gave Zur a smile to show there were no hard feelings. Then he tapped the stick against one barrel.
"Ham for Zama," he instructed.
Zur smiled, comprehending. "Zama nini."
"Zama nini." Robin nodded. He had figured out that nini was a possessive particle.
Zur gingerly returned the top onto his barrel and collected the others, resting them comfortably against his shoulder as though they were as light as marshmallows. He pointed with his club at the drawing of the sun and the five tally marks.
"Iza mah."
"Five days," Robin agreed.
"Zur, Zama, Rob." He pointed at the drawing of Marian, and his eyes twinkled. "Rob nini laa."
"Rob nini friend," Robin stressed, scowling.
Zur laughed again, and the sound shook the trees. Winking, he turned to go, hopping hard enough to shake the ground.
"You know, sometimes I think you understand more than you let on!" Robin called after him.
THE END