RobinHood!EnglandxReader- Tales of Arthur Kirkland

A/N:

This is just the beginning intro. Reader will come on later during the short series, if I decide to make one. Anyhue, that's about it. Happy Reading~

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"Bloody hell, Arthur! Where did you run off to?"

The violent, rather angry sounding shout echoed through the strong oaks the luscious forest had provided, causing a rather alarmed child to run even faster than they had been going before. The green tinted cloak he hurriedly put on before he left the house flapped quickly against the wind, causing a small sound to illuminate through the now quiet area of the forest. Though the boy knew his brother had been nowhere close to getting him, he couldn't help but be worried he would soon catch up with him. His sense of direction had been very keen throughout the time he had visited the lush area, knowing every sharp turn and crevice that had been beheld before him. Shutting his emerald tinted hues as hard as humanly possible, Arthur gripped the worn, leather covered book to his chest and let his stubby legs go as far as they could take him. His older brother would always get this way when he had drinken bottles of ale profusely, as if they had gone out of style, and attempt to take his anger out on the little brit. This never really occurred that often, but Arthur knew that when this did happen, he wanted to get as far away from Allistor as he possibly could. Since he visited the forest for as long as he could remember, he knew that there would always be a place for him to stay until the drunkenness had been drained from his brother.

Not moments later did he hear the continuous, embittered shout grow closer than it had been before. Had he finally caught up to him? The small child thought this very unlikely. But for as long as he had gotten to know the man, Arthur knew that he shouldn't underestimate him in the slightest, even if he had been drinking not an hour earlier. Once again opening his eyes to the green that had been placed before him, Arthur scanned the surrounding area to find a place to settle down until his brother finally decided to give up on him and go back to the cottage where him and his other siblings had resided. It had dawned on the boy that instead of spreading his verbal abuse on his other brothers, Allistor had decided to take it out on him, the youngest and weakest of the bunch. Sure, he might not have been as brawny or as strong as the others, but what he couldn't match in muscles he made up for in smarts. He had been rather cunning and stealthy in his young age, and was always able to hide or climb when absolutely needed; Like right now, for instance. This hadn't been the first time Arthur had run off into the forest on his own, however, and he knew it only made Allistor angrier than he had already been. But each night when he returned home by slipping into the window before anyone could see him, they would pretend as if he had been there the whole time. He thought it might have had to do with the hangover that the ginger had when he awoke, but he hadn't seemed to recall anything about him ever leaving. His brothers Dylan and Angus pretended they didn't know a thing about it, for they knew it would only upset their older brother.

Arthur's eyes finally settled on a firm looking tree, one definitely high enough to keep him out of sight well enough so his cover wouldn't be blown, and he began to reach for the arrows he kept stored in the carrier he kept tightly tied around his back. The one sport Arthur had finally decided to take himself upon was Archery. Though he was a novice at the game, simply a child interested in finally outshining his brothers, he had to admit that he was getting better with each passing day. Peering up the large oak, he knew that the only branches to be found were at the top of it, far to high for him to reach at this point. And that's why he had been trusting his arrows with all that he had left to reach the top of it. Giving one last firm squeeze to the book he had brought with him, Arthur shoved it in his bag and retrieved two arrows in which he planned to scale the tree with. Holding in a breath, the brit plunged one of the sharp ends into the wood with all his might, hoisting his small, bare feet off the ground, stabbing the other just above the first. At that moment, the boy made a silent agreement to himself that when he got down, he was going to start working his arms out more. He had barely even made it that far, and yet his wee arms were already growing as tired as a crippled fox chasing after it's prey. Sucking in another deep breath, he continued to plunge and unplunge the arrows one after the other, actually, to his surprise, climbing the tree. A wide, accomplished like smile adorned his face as he finally reached the nearest branch. It had been an ideal spot, one that had been camouflaged in leaves well enough for Allistor to walk right past it. Little did he know that the runt of the family had pulled the wool over his eyes, surpassing him yet again.

As carefully as he could, Arthur let go of the arrow in his right hand, dangling from the one in his left. He swung back and fourth ever so gently, his legs wrapping around the one he had let go not moments before. This was the moment of truth. His fingers unwound from the left arrow, his torso swinging down and backwards like a trapeze artist performing the last trick of the night. And for the briefest of seconds, Arthur almost felt as if he could have taken flight right then and there. But before he could let go and do so, his hands met with his targeted branch, arms pulling up so he could find a seat next to the tall trunk. With the arrows still in tact with the tree, the brit knew that he would be safe and sound, so long as he stayed in the spot he had picked.

The faint yelling and constant threats from his brother had soon died down, the only sound in the forest being the quiet chirping of the grasshoppers that had resided there. Now all that Arthur needed to do was sit there and be his own company, awaiting the sunrise that would come in a few hours. Knowing that this would be a long wait, the boy grabbed for his carrier, rummaging around inside to try and find his leather book. Once his fingers had wrapped around the metal buckle that kept it closed nice and tight, he fished it out from the bottom and leaned his bag up against the tree.

"The Tales of Robin Hood."

The words had been written in neat, bold cursive writing as soon as he had opened the cover, his small hand moving over the writing, admiring it with as much curiosity as he had the first time he opened the book. For him, this piece of literature would never get old. Arthur had lost track as to how many times he had read the tales that Robin Hood and his Merry Men had brought for him; Just for him, and no one else. Or at least, that's how he had viewed it in his eyes. For Arthur, all he could ever do was picture the intense battle scenes that had been layed out for him in the detailed wording the author had written. Robin Hood and Little John, side by side, arm in arm, arrows and swords clashing against each other in the heat of war. It was almost too much for the young dreamer to take! Stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, that was their motto. He even fell prey to the young love of the proclaimed hero and young Maid Marian. Arthur couldn't help but grin every time he turned the first page, an exciting tale just waiting to be read over and over again! This was his escape from reality. From his brothers. From his chores in the cottage. From everything.

He had decided to skip to his favorite chapter where the two main characters had first ended up meeting each other. Since he knew that Allistor had probably given up all hope in finding the young blonde and had gone home, Arthur wasn't afraid to read out loud. Though just in case that the man had still been walking aimlessly through the woods, he decided to recite it a little quieter than he normally would have.

"When Robin Hood was about twenty years old, with a hey down down and a down, he happened to meet Little John, a jolly brisk blade, right fit for the trade, for he was a lusty young man. Though he was called little, his limbs were quite large, and his stature was seven foot high. Where-ever he came, they quaked at his name, for soon he would make them to fly. How they came acquainted, I'll tell you in brief, if you will but listen a while, for this very jest, amongst all the rest, I think it may cause you to smile." and indeed he smiled. When didn't Arthur smile when he read this part of the book? He knew how it had gone by heart, though he couldn't help but be anticipated as his eyes scanned the rest of the page. "Bold Robin Hood said to his jolly bowmen, pray tarry you here in this grove; And see that you all observe well my call, while thorough the forest I rove. We have had no sport for these fourteen long days, therefore now abroad will I go. Now should I be beat, and cannot retreat, my horn I will presently blow."

Arthur covered his mouth as a yawn escaped his lips, eyelids sliding closed ever so gently. Sleep had now hit the boy rather hard, more so than he had expected it to, and he could feel his head starting to droop down more towards the book that lay carelessly in his white gown. He knew that he should be getting home soon so he could get to bed, but he didn't want to shove off quite yet. He hadn't finished the chapter in his book, and he wanted to read it until the very end. His body had intantly disagreed with this decision, and Arthur knew he couldn't put up a fair fight- he was simply too tired. Then he had finally come to an agreement. Closing the book and clasping the golden lock around it, Arthur shifted so his body was laying on the branch and his head was resting on the green bag he had brought along with him. The branch was to the point where he could sleep on it and not be afraid of falling off, just because it was so much bigger in size than he was. So if he ended up shifting in his sleep, he would be absolutely fine. Yawning once more, Arthur gripped the novel to his chest, arms wrapping around it as if to give Robin Hood himself a hug, emerald hues blinking shut for the last time of the night.

"When I grow up into a man... I'm going to be just like you." the boy could feel himself drifting off as these words subconsciously came out of him in a hushed tone, his rosey cheek resting against the cover. "A real hero."