karen9: (ArfurRat)


I am Arfur the Rat. I live in Nottingham Castle Dungeon. We had the Sheriff down ‘ere once. ‘e ‘ad been naughty. ‘e was almost in tears. The old man spoke to ‘im about our accommodation. The service ‘as been bad for years, see? ‘e promised to change the straw, but ‘e never did. The Sheriff didn’t like the rotting cabbages for brekfus.

This was after we’d ‘ad some of the Wickham people staying. It got a bit crowded and they were miserable. We ‘eard that Robin Hood was caught, but got away.

The Sheriff’s moustache tastes like rotting cabbages.

karen9: (ArfurRat)


I am Arfur the Rat. I live in Nottingham Castle Dungeon. Me and the old man get lots of visitors. They are thrown down. Some of ‘em stay a long time and then get taken away and nasty fings ‘appen to ‘em.

Robin Hood and ‘is friends always escape. They usually throw down a guard or two when they leave. The old man is ‘appy. He can talk to the guards and they can’t tell ‘im to shut up because they’re out cold, see? I’ve bitten a few of ‘em, coz I was ‘ungry, see? They taste like rotting cabbages.

karen9: (ArfurRat)


I am Arfur the Rat. I live in Nottingham Castle Dungeon. We’ve ‘ad some distinguished visitors , we ’ave. Guy of Gisburne, wot usually has other people chucked down ‘ere, was chucked down ‘imself. Serves ‘im right, I sez.

Guy was not a good guest. He threw a tantrum, so the guards emptied their pisspot on ‘is ‘ead. Then a friend of ‘is was chucked down to join ‘im.  Some of Robin Hood’s men came to get this friend.  He laid Guy out good and proper . I chewed Guy’s ‘air, coz I was ‘ungry, see? He tastes like rotting cabbages.

karen9: (ArfurRat)


I am Arfur the Rat. I live in Nottingham Castle Dungeon.  One of Robin Hood’s outlaws, the big ‘airy un, was ‘ere visiting for a time. ‘e was mean, ‘e wouldn’t let me sleep in ‘is beard. I was cold, see? Also, I wanted to ‘ide, see? I knew ‘e would get away, so I wanted to go wiv. The soldiers made the old fool go wiv on a job, but ‘e left me behind and when ‘e came back the others were gorn.

I chewed the big ‘un’s beard, coz I was ‘ungry see? It tastes like rotting cabbages.

karen9: (ArfurRat)

These drabbles were written for fun for a Rosfic Forum drabble challenge.


I am Arfur the Rat. I live in Nottingham Castle. The old man sez I like rotting cabbages. ‘e lies. I only eat them coz I’m ‘ungry, see?

He sez he can’t leave me. The old fool can take me wiv ‘im, can’t ‘e? I can ‘ide in ‘is beard or somefink.


I’ve eaten the rest of this dribble [sic], coz I was ‘ungry, see? It tastes like rotting cabbages.

karen9: (Default)

These drabbles were written for a rosfic_forum challenge to write from the point of view of a character you don't usually write for. I was challenged to write for Gisburne.

Finally. Thank you to azinazelle for her patience and beta.

1. Enemies

“Why can’t you kill me, Wolfshead?” Guy rasped, Robin’s sword at his throat.

 Robin said, “I can’t because you’re my brother. My father is your father.”

“Are you mad?” Guy spat out.

“Your mother told me before she died.” Robin walked away.

“No! You’re lying!” Gisburne shouted after him. 

 Guy was too shocked to pursue his enemy. Stunned disbelief gave way to fury.  His mother had deceived him. His blood father had deserted him before he was born. The man Guy had called father hated him.  

 The man he most wanted to kill in the world was his half brother.



I tried two drabble ideas for Gisburne, so I thought I might as well post this one as well. Thank you again to azinazelle. Now I really will stop!

2. The New Squire

 One of the new squires was a runt of a boy. Gisburne had seen his father leave him without a farewell or any sign of affection. Gisburne spoke in his mind to the youth, from his own life and experience:

‘You’ll get no pity, boy. You’ll suffer hurt and humiliation. Don’t show fear or loneliness, only pride. You’ll have to grow a thick hide and a rigid mask. Your rage and hatred will keep you alive.

They’ll teach you to fight with sword, shield and spear. Teach yourself to use a knife, so you may cut out your own heart.’

karen9: (Default)

These drabbles were written for a rosfic_forum challenge.

Thanks to herne24 for her betas.

1. I swear I had written the gist of this before avictoriangirl posted her drabble: Herne's Sons!  The similarities are coincidence.

Three Stars

The outlaws were sitting or lying on the fresh grass, bathing in the warm spring sunshine. Marion lifted her face to the translucent curtain of light falling around her.

Spring. That was when her first lover had come to her. Robin of the dark hair and eyes: a comet blazing a fire trail through the night.

Now Robin of the blue mist eyes, with the green leaf light in his hair, smiled his soft smile. Her fair lover:  the constant morning star.

She was a far cold star: her heart frozen with fear of loving and losing again.


2 & 3. In my fic Meg joined the outlaws.

Dreams in the Fire

What do the outlaws dream of around the fire at night?

Does Will remember Elana and hold fast to his blood thirst?

 Does Nasir dream of his homeland of heat haze and endless horizons?

Does Much see the faces of his dead father and brother in the lapping flames?

Does Tuck dream of cloister and comfort, long forsaken?

 Meg and John see their own happiness and hug the warmth.

What does Robin dream of? What does Herne’s Son dream in flame light and shadow? What does he search for in the amber heart of the fire?


3. I was feeling morbid when I wrote this one.

The Third Twilight

The outlaws had planned to ambush a wealthy prelate. They had been gone three days and two nights; they hadn’t returned.

The fire had died. A pall of wood smoke hung over the campsite. She hugged her fear and rising panic around her with her furs.

Twilight came softly:  the ghost of the day and the shadow of night. They were standing around the cold hearth. Her friends had come back before dark. Robin and her beloved John took her hands and gently lifted her to her feet; Meg followed them over the threshold of the night.


I wrote a sequel to Dreams in the Fire

I've had a go at continuing my Dreams in the Fire drabble.

Thanks to herne24 for her excellent beta and her encouragement.


Dreams in the Fire Part 2

Robin is young. He dreams of love and passion. He muses on the impossible: peace, freedom and plenty for all. He keeps the past at bay; the present weighs on his shoulders. His hopes are for tomorrow and, then, the day after.

He searches in the deep heart of the fire for what he has lost. Between his father’s expectations and Herne’s demands he once had his own life. He searches in the flames for the hopes and dreams of Robert of Huntingdon. In the grey remains of the morning they are utterly lost.


The following two were neither beta'd nor posted.



The sun through the trees falls on the back of the one before me.

The dust of the road cloaks the two beside me.

On my back is the shadow of the one behind me.

I walk with my hands bound before me.

In the sky the sun’s corona burns a noose above me.


Arrows singing like the stars strike the men beside, behind and before me.

“This way, Will,” Robin calls.

He cuts me loose. I take my sword back.

I run with my friends, beside, ahead and behind me, into the shelter of the trees, freedom before me.




Marion’s eyes were as open as the cloudless sky and the colour of the clear running stream bright with swimming sunlight. Her hair was an aureole of copper and russet, swirling in the breeze. She looked at him with her sparkling face and smiled. He stepped towards her, reaching his hands out to her, longing to kiss and hold her. 


Clouds smothered the sun. The pale grey sky in the water reflected Marion turning away.

“How could you do this to me!” Robin shouted, throwing stones in the stream to shatter the illusion. The splinters cut him to the heart.


karen9: (Default)

May 2016

151617 18192021


RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 24th, 2017 12:14 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios