Meeting You Again(Maid Marian)
Sept 29, 2009 20:07:32 GMT -5
Post by robinhood on Sept 29, 2009 20:07:32 GMT -5
Robin was seeking a new place to set up camp, the scenery around him had gotten boring...and lonely. So he trudged through the grass, listening to his surroundings with a faint happiness, but his usual merriness had gotten lost somewhere and he had a sort of low spirit about him.
He knew he shouldn't be upset, so what? He wasn't home, he would deal with it and find his way here. He would find new adventures and meet many fascinating people. But it just wasn't Nottingham. He longed for the company of Little John, his partner of crime. He missed the villagers of Nottingham. Each and every one of them had more value than any gold coin. He just wished Prince John would treat them so. But that would be a fairytale come true.
His surroundings were a little more familiar, a little like home. Sometimes the people he passed he could catch their english accents, much like his own.
Deciding this would be the place to set up camp, he found a nice quiet grassy spot, away from any buildings but not so desolate and began setting up camp. He gathered firewood and stones and made his campfire, rubbing some stones together to make a spark.Taking an arrow, he used the tip to cut up the ingrediants for the stew and once finished, set it down absent mindedly on a stump. [reparing very watery stew, with a few vegetable he had managed to burrow from a garden, leaving a few gold coins in exchange. His gaze was not in any way on the paste as he stirred it, no, his mind always seemed to be far away these days.
Sometimes his thoughts were questions he had been stewing over for the longest time. What was to become of him? How long would he manage to escape the law? They wanted his blood almost as much as they wanted those taxes. Could he keep running like this forever? He grew wary of it every so often, but adventure was in his blood, and if he didn't help the people of Nottingham, who else?
But there was always another subject lingering heavily on his mind. His childhood love, Maid Marian. Did she ever think of him? Or maybe the question he was asking should be, did she even remember him at all? For all he knew she could be married to some noble king or lord in London. Who knew if she was even alive at all? He had never understood why she went away in the first place. It had hurt him deeply when she did. But he had learned to let it go. He just couldn't help wondering sometimes though, no matter how hard he tried to forget. He could never forget those eyes though, and long beautiful lashes.
Robin continued to ponder, sinking slowly to rest his feet while he continued to stir the brown bubbling soup, he leaped to his feet, letting out a surprised shout. He didn't even have to look to see the arrow sticking out of his rear end. He muttered to himself in his british accent. Things like this always happened to him when he let his mind get away. He clasped his hand to his forehead as the soup boiled over.
Then he heard it, gentle footsteps in the grass. Slowly he lowered his hand, completely frozen as he gazed at the approaching Maiden. It was like a dream and at first he couldn't quite believe it. But it really was her! He remained silent and still, but joy was bursting from him and he didn't quite know what to do with it. Mostly he was just thankful he was fully facing her from the front. He knew it didn't even matter though. The only thing that mattered that it was really her, his Marian.
He knew he shouldn't be upset, so what? He wasn't home, he would deal with it and find his way here. He would find new adventures and meet many fascinating people. But it just wasn't Nottingham. He longed for the company of Little John, his partner of crime. He missed the villagers of Nottingham. Each and every one of them had more value than any gold coin. He just wished Prince John would treat them so. But that would be a fairytale come true.
His surroundings were a little more familiar, a little like home. Sometimes the people he passed he could catch their english accents, much like his own.
Deciding this would be the place to set up camp, he found a nice quiet grassy spot, away from any buildings but not so desolate and began setting up camp. He gathered firewood and stones and made his campfire, rubbing some stones together to make a spark.Taking an arrow, he used the tip to cut up the ingrediants for the stew and once finished, set it down absent mindedly on a stump. [reparing very watery stew, with a few vegetable he had managed to burrow from a garden, leaving a few gold coins in exchange. His gaze was not in any way on the paste as he stirred it, no, his mind always seemed to be far away these days.
Sometimes his thoughts were questions he had been stewing over for the longest time. What was to become of him? How long would he manage to escape the law? They wanted his blood almost as much as they wanted those taxes. Could he keep running like this forever? He grew wary of it every so often, but adventure was in his blood, and if he didn't help the people of Nottingham, who else?
But there was always another subject lingering heavily on his mind. His childhood love, Maid Marian. Did she ever think of him? Or maybe the question he was asking should be, did she even remember him at all? For all he knew she could be married to some noble king or lord in London. Who knew if she was even alive at all? He had never understood why she went away in the first place. It had hurt him deeply when she did. But he had learned to let it go. He just couldn't help wondering sometimes though, no matter how hard he tried to forget. He could never forget those eyes though, and long beautiful lashes.
Robin continued to ponder, sinking slowly to rest his feet while he continued to stir the brown bubbling soup, he leaped to his feet, letting out a surprised shout. He didn't even have to look to see the arrow sticking out of his rear end. He muttered to himself in his british accent. Things like this always happened to him when he let his mind get away. He clasped his hand to his forehead as the soup boiled over.
Then he heard it, gentle footsteps in the grass. Slowly he lowered his hand, completely frozen as he gazed at the approaching Maiden. It was like a dream and at first he couldn't quite believe it. But it really was her! He remained silent and still, but joy was bursting from him and he didn't quite know what to do with it. Mostly he was just thankful he was fully facing her from the front. He knew it didn't even matter though. The only thing that mattered that it was really her, his Marian.