Scarlet

Chapter 11

Scarlet POV

I'm confused. I have blood dripping down my face, and yet all I can think about it Robin running out the woods, his bow drawn and loaded, saving my life. It doesn't mean anything. I'm a band member, of course he would save me. He would save anyone he could.

  We head back to Major Oak, me dragging an unconscious Much and Rob dragging an unconscious Little John. Godfrey had regained consciousness so he was walking. I couldn't get the attackers face out of my head. it was haunting me.

I think I knew him, I may have run into him in London. I don't like lieing to Rob, but actually I'm more honest with him that any one else. Which were actually pretty sad, considering how much I lie. But I have to lie to him to some length. if I don't, my past just might come spilling out, like the guts of a deer after you shoot it and your field gutting it. just like what could happen if a guard got hold of me. he could slit my stomach and I'd be just like a gutted deer. and if I don't lie some, Rob might realize that I love him, that I would do anything for him, and I can't let that happen.

So, this is what is running through my head as we head back to Major Oak. The whole walk back, I'm thinking about my attacker. I don't remember who he is, but I know that I know him, and that he is dangerous to me. The final, most scary thing is that he is not dead. I know Rob shot him, but "he is not dead."

"Hey Scar, what's wrong?"

I suddenly jump when I hear Robs question. I realize that I must have been talking out loud and he heard. Crap. I try to cover it up and say "What do you mean?"

"I heard you say 'He is not dead.' Who were you talking about, and what did you mean?" Damn it, should I be honest or lie about this?

"I was just thinking about my attacker. I think he is still alive although he was shot. He was wearing chain mail, so I think he is still alive." Rob just nods, and agrees.

"Yes, I think you could be right."

It's surprisingly hard to lie to Rob. I'm not sure why though. It just is.

"Hey Scar?" Rob asks.

"Yeah?" I answer.

"Are you hurt? you're holding your arm at a weird angle and your wincing occasionally."

Now that he mentions it, my left arm does hurt like Hell, and my left cheekbone is still dripping blood, and my left thigh and hip hurt. I decide to be honest about this.

"Yeah, my left cheekbone, left arm, and left thigh and hip hurt like Hell.

"You should probably be looked over. I'll do it if you like."

I just nod, realizing that out of everyone, I'd rather have Rob look me over than any one else. I'm not sure what exactly that means, but at least I realized it myself. I'm not really sure how I feel about this realisation. A bit awkward, I think. I were thinking this over, rolling it round in my head like it were a bit of dough, shaping it into a round ball.

I twist my right fingers around the ribbon on one of my knives, twisting and wrapping it around my fingers, as all this girly crap were rolling around in my head. Oh dear God, what's gotten into me?? I have my life to worry about, and I'm thinking about guy problems. Just great. Just what I need to be worrying about.

Rob is so much nicer to think about, than Gisbourne. Rob has blue gray eyes like the English Chanel, and soft blondish hair, and a strong jaw, with some serious muscles in his arms, from years of shooting a long bow and sword practise. His eyes showed you his emotions, like when he was angry, and they showed you how much he cared about you. For him, I thought, are a bit like that saying, that the eyes are windows to the soul. His are.

Maybe I am nothing more than a fool girl, dreaming over boys when there are more important things to be taken care of. I hate the idea of that thought being true. I never had no patience with girls like, as they dreamed over boys and sighed over jewels, mooning over the latest fashion, longed for the latest gossip. It disgusts me, seeing that there are lives on the line and all they care about is who is marrying who, this Lord said that, this lady said this. That is what disgusts me about them. That they could be so...careless. It makes me sick to think that I could be turning into one of them.

I just don't get it.

Especially when this world has so much injustice, so much cruelness. Most parents wouldn't marry their daughter off the instant or were legal, most liked to wait a bit, but I've known some who didn't. They tried to marry their daughter on the day she became of legal age. it's just not right. I've always hated it when parents wouldn't never give their kid no say in who they were marrying. it were common, but I hated it. most girls just want a rich man, with a high court standing.

Some girls actually care about who their marrying. they love them, and sometimes, are permitted to chose or at least have some say. But I've known some who, when they were trying to say What they thought, were told they were a foolish girl and didn't know best. I've been told it hurts.

But I wouldn't know.

I wouldn't know nothing about it when a girl is terrified of who her parents are forcing her to marry, when that girls sister would be married soon, but runs away with her younger sister because out of the whole world, they only ever loved each other.

When they then run away, the older one running off in the middle of the night to do unspeakable things to keep them going, never telling her younger sister nothing. When the older girl gets sick, coughing up blood, staining her hair and the bed blood red. When the younger girl, once nobility, turning thief to try and heal her sister.

But I'm just a thief. I wouldn't know nothing about and of that.

But I do know one thing. That older girl was named Johanna. She would have done anything to protect her sister, and vice versa. I know that the younger one went to.a church after her sister died, and cried, with the saints glaring at her. I know that she knocked over a candle by accident, put it out, and then ran. Right out into the rain, and tried to steal from a Lord thinking she would be imprisoned, and die so she would be with her sister. But it turned out to be ex Lord, and she didn't die.

That younger girl was Lady Marian Fitzwalter of Leaford.

I were ripped from my thoughts when Rob told me "Take him to the caves, it'll be more sheltered there." I just nod.

I drag Much to the cave, and start a fire. I lay him on a pallet, stuffed with old cloth and staw, and wool when we can get it, and lay a blanket over him. I pull up his shirt, and don't see any injuries, just a bump on the head. He'll be fine, and I let him sleep it off. I put some water and some bread by his bed, and go see Rob.

I find him in the next cave over. John is fine, just a bump on the head like Much.

"Hey Rob." I quietly say.

"Hey Scar. What were you thinking about on the way here?"

"How'd you know I was thinking?"

"You were twisting a knife ribbon in your fingers. You do that when you're thinking."

I need to change my habits.

I decide to be honest about this one.

"Just thinking about personal shit, and before you ask, no, I'm not going to share anything about it. Unless it would save someone." I add on softly, hoping he wouldn't hear the last part. But of course he did.

"So would you spill if it would save me?"

"Hmm...possibly. Debatable though."

"Well, that's heart warming."

The honest answer to that question? Yes. Totally, no questions asked. I couldn't exactly tell him that though, now could I?

A/N Soooo, here it is! How'd you like it? Good? Bad? Ok? nice and long though. So when should she reveal whom she is ans when do you think her and Rob should get together? comment your answer! pleeeeeeeeeease give me ideas! I WILL include them. Seriously. I will. Thanks,

Scarlet