Disclaimer: I do not own Zootopia or its related characters. All is the property of Walt Disney Animation Studios, Clark Spencer, and Byron Howard. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.

Sovereign's War

Chapter One: Refuse Thy Name

Judy felt uncomfortable outside of the Greenwood. A feeling that she would never voice to her mentor whom insisted that today's excursion was vital to her education as a Guardian of the Greenwood. Casually, the young doe-bunny cast a sidelong look at her mentor.

Thumper had been a Guardian of the Greenwood for as long as the doe bunny could remember and was a personal friend of the Great Prince of the Forest. He chose to conceal himself in the dark brown and rough woven habit of an Xtian friar, the hood drawn up to hide his long bunny ears and conceal his face. Judy stuck close to him, hopping to keep pace with his wider stride.

She was clad in similar robes of rough weave, but her's were the black of a novice. If any residents of Loxley noticed them, they would have though the pair had come from the monastery to witness the succession of the new Earl.

It had been ten years since Robert Wilde of Loxley, Earl of Huntington left with the King on his mad Crusade. Ten years, with no return. Now his son -Nickolas- was finally old enough to claim his father's title and lands. This was nothing new or special. Plenty of lords outside of the Greenwood went off to join the Lionheart on his crusade and never came home. Plenty of son's succeeded fathers they only had vague memories of. But the Earl of Huntington, the Lord of Loxley -Robert Wilde had been known to the Greenwood. Robert had been the Robin of the Wood, the Robin under the Hood.

An ally to the Great Prince of the Forest and -though he was also a noble sworn to the King of the predator class that ruled the Country- also a protector of the prey that sought asylum in the Greenwood.

That was why the Great Prince insisted on sending a representative to his son's succession. To have an ally among the predator nobility -that was a valuable thing indeed. They lost that ally when Robert -Robin, when the Robin left. But perhaps that ally could be regained in the form of Nickolas.

That is, assuming the young fox also held with the Olde Ways as his father did and hadn't been taken in and assimilated by the Xtian influence that was so widespread over the Country and seduced the King into leaving on a fool's Crusade.

Judy and Thumper blended into the crowd that was passing the gates of Loxleytwon, the seat of the Huntington earldom. It was early evening, the sun not even fully set as they passed the town gates. But a celebration was already begun. That meant the young heir's petition to the Prince had gone well and John -in his brother's absence- had granted the young Earl his birthright.

Thumper weaved them through the crowd of revelry until they found the young Earl. He was not sitting in his hall surveying the celebrations before him, but rather out among his people. Celebrating with them. That was a good sign.

Nickolas Wilde of Loxley, Earl of Huntington sat at a table in a tavern. The fox was dressed in plain clothes of green and brown. Drinking and playing tavern games with everyone else. Both predator and prey. A cheetah and a sloth. The only indication that he might be more than just a simple and humble resident of Loxleytown was the chain around his neck. An heirloom of the Huntington earldom.

Both chain and pendant were made of purest silver, signifying that the wearer was a friend of the fair folk -the fae. Aside from that detail, the chain was unremarkable. It was the pendant that was special. An arrow and a bow. The same symbol on the Huntington banner. The crest of the family Wilde. But the arrow and the bow had a much older meaning among the Mammals of the Greenwood. The arrow and the bow was a symbol of defense and protection. The arrow -facing forward- meant that one must always keep moving. Advancing to the future and never looking back to dwell in the past.

Thumper had seen the Robin wearing it often enough before he left to recognize the pendant when he saw it handing from the neck of another. He was glad the Robin's heir wore it.

Judy, always keeping close to her mentor in the crowded and unfamiliar space, moved to Thumper's other side to get a better look at the new lord. For reason's her young mind couldn't fully explain, her breath caught in her throat.

She had seen foxes before. That was nothing special. Judy actually proudly sported three scars on her left cheek from an altercation with a fox just three years ago.

But while that fox had been thick built and heavy, with dull-witted brown eyes, the new Earl of Huntington was slender and lean. He looked like one well suited to running through the Greenwood, weaving between trees and reveling in the Green Mammal's domain. His fur was well cared for and well groomed. Of a red so vibrant it almost shined in the light of the tavern's lanterns, and his eyes... a green so deep and vibrant. A shade of emerald that couldn't only be matched by the Greenwood itself.

Judy's nineteen-year-old mind couldn't understand why, but the only word she could call up to describe him was 'hansom'. But that was ridiculous! He was a fox and she was a bunny. Bunnies did not find foxes 'hansom'.

Then the fox's nose twitched, sniffing the air, and his head turned to them.

Those emerald green eyes looking all the more intense -brilliant- when they were trained on her. Without realizing that her body had stopped moving, Judy found herself frozen in place. Her feet rooted to the floor and unwilling to move.

Thumper, however, did not seem so dramatically affected. He approached the young Earl's table, grabbing Judy by the paw and dragging her after him as they closed the space.

"Evening, Friar." The young Earl raised his draft, smiling a completely open and friendly smile. Devoid of pretense or double meanings. He was either an honest and well meaning fox -or else he was already drunk out of his mind. If Judy's parents were here, they would insist it was the latter, but for some reason, she thought both could be equally likely. Especially when he immediately followed up his greeting with, "Come drink with us!"

Chairs were dragged from other tables at the young lord's request and a draft of whatever it was the Earl was drinking was placed in front of Thumper.

The old bunny took an experimental sip of the frothy liquid, quickly decided that he did not like predator's spirits and set the over-sized mug back down. He focused his attention on the new master of Loxley -the fief in which Sherwood was located. "I've come to give you the Lord's Blessing."

To that announcement, the fox snorted with amusement. "Another one! I've already received the Lord's Blessing from every friar, priest, and cardinal between here and Londontown! Not to mention the Prince's own Bishop." He set his own mug down. This time sighing with exasperation. "But alright, let's get this over with. I, Nickolas Wilde, titles, titles, titles, do solemnly swear in the name of the son, the father, and the holy spirit-"

"Not that Lord." Thrumper cut him off, shaking his head. From out of the folds of his borrowed habit, the old rabbit with drew a small parcel. Wrapped in oak leaves and tied with raffia made from the stems of summer wheat. He slid the parcel across the table to the young Earl. "The Lord of the Greenwood expects great things from you, Nickolas Wilde, son of the Robin under the Hood."

At that announcement, the table went uncomfortably quiet.

Everyone stared at the fox.

Gone was his cheerful and jovial mood and open and carefree smiles. He glared across the table at Thumper. Expression guarded. Closed off and suspicious. Looking for double meanings in everything that was said from this point forward.

'Now he looks like a real fox.' Judy found herself thinking, and she found him significantly less hansom.

There was a beat of silence in which no one spoke. In fact, once others in the tavern noticed that their lord had stopped drinking and laughing, other conversations at other tables slowed to a stop. The bard strumming the background halted his ballad. Barmaids failed to replenish the rounds. Eventually, every eye in the bar -prey and predator alike- was looking at the young Earl of Huntington.

Nickolas waited one... two... three beats before he spoke in a voice that was calm and controlled, almost casual in its conversation. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Thumper didn't say anything to argue the point, just gave a knowing smile from under his hood.

The fox continued to glare for a moment longer before he began to fidget under the rabbit's calm and knowing smile. "My father is a knight in the service of the Lionheart. I don't know where you heard such a nasty rumor, but my father is a good Xtian soldier."

To this also, Thumper didn't bother to deny. He just continued to hold the fox's eyes, collected and unassuming. Although, he was sympathetic enough to drop the knowing smile.

Uncomfortable under the rabbit's stare, the fox rose to his feet. "I think you should leave."

Thumper was silent another one... two... three beats. He noted that when the young Earl tried to menacingly rise to his feet, he also -oh so casually- slid the oak-wrapped parcel off the table where it disappeared into a trouser pocket. Finally, Thumper also stood. "I think you're right, Your Grace. We'll leave."

Once again, Thumper was grabbing Judy by the arm and dragging her across the tavern -this time, to the door.

They didn't speak again until they were out of Loxleytown, following the road in the evening dark until the path veered away to detour around the Greenwood. That was when Judy and her mentor struck out from the road, heading straight for the treeline.

"Well, that went terribly." Judy commented.

Thumper stripped off his fake friar's habit, discarding it before they reached the treeline and continued on in his simple tunic and trousers. The was no way he was going to bring anything Xtian into the Greenwood. "It went exactly the way I expected it to go."

"He called the Robin a ' good Xtian'." The young doe reminded him. Truth be told, Judy had never met the Robin under the Hood, she was only nine when he left on the mad Crusade with the Lionheart. But she was fairly certain the old trickster fox was decidedly not an Xtian. If her mentor and the Great Prince were to be believed, he held with the Olde Ways. He belonged to the Lord of the Greenwood. That was why he was allowed to carry the name of Goodfellow.

He gave her a very patient look before turning away and continuing though the dense trees of Sherwood. If Judy didn't know any better, she'd have thought her mentor was disappointed in her. "Tell me, what would you have expected him to say in a room full of other Xtian predators?"

"But he's their lord." She argued back.

"And as their lord, they have to trust him to have their interests at heart." Thumper explained. "One of those interests happens to be their magical sky father-son-disembodied ghost thing." A pause. He changed his tactic to make her better understand. "What would we do if the Great Prince one day announced he was converting to Xtianity? If Bambi said he was leaving the Olde Ways -our ways."

"We'd kick him out of the Greenwo- Oh, I see!"

"We're not so different, the Xtians and those who keep the Olde. The only significant divider is that we're right and they're wrong." Thumper smiled with approval, gave her a nod, then his expression returned to a serious one. "Did you notice that in the space between when he stood and when he told us to get the feck out, our message disappeared from the table?"

Judy had not noticed that. She was to focussed on his eyes. Those intense, emerald green eyes that offered her a glimpse of swirling emotions he was keeping locked behind iron bars of guarded self-control. "When a predator tries to intimidate me, Mentor, a non-lethal package is not what my attention is on."

"You should give some attention to his paws, not just those teeth you were staring at the whole time." Teeth... eyes... they were around the same general area -whatever. "Remember, the paws are where his claws are."

"Yes, sir." Judy nodded, adequately humbled. Then she asked, "What should we expect from him now?"

At that question, Thumper gave a snort of derision. "He belongs to the Goodfellow. We don't 'expect' anything from those that belong to the Trickster. He might show up in the Wood tomorrow, clad in green and hooded, Goodfellow's badge displayed boldly. Or, we might not see him again for many years."

Judy huffed. "Tricksters are so unreliable. I'm glad I belong to a proper god like Brigid."

To that, Thumper did not say anything. The reason he agreed to train her as a guardian of the Greenwood -aside from the fact that she refused to take 'no' for an answer and didn't know when to give up- was because when Judy as born, she was claimed by one of the Olde Gods. Because she was a bunny, Judy just assumed that it was Brigid that claimed her. Neither Thumper nor the Great Prince Bambi ever told her that it was not Brigid -or any of the Tuatha Dé Danann for that matter. It was Goodfellow. The Puck. The goblin Hob. The Trickster.

She and young Earl belonged to the same god.

But Thumper wasn't about to tell her that.

…

After the spectacle at the tavern, Nick found that he was no longer in the mood for celebrating. He made his excuses to Clawhauser and Flash, laid a few coins on the table -to spite the tavern owners protests that the young lord could drink there any time on the house- and he tossed another coin to Allan whom had resumed strumming his lute -although, Nick was none to pleased with the medley the bard had chosen. 'The Hooded Fox's Song', no doubt inspired by the bunny friar's accusations.

The parcel in his pocket seemed to almost burn him with every step as the newly ascended Earl made his way to the manor. He wove through the corridors and up the stairs until he reached his suit. Nick barricaded himself in his room.

Leaning against the closed door, he listened for any steps in the hall that might indicate someone had seen him and was coming to congratulate him on his succession. When he was sure no one was coming to disturb him, Nick pushed off the door and crossed the room.

He didn't bother with the lighting of a candle. He had excellent night vision already and didn't want the light of a flame giving away his position if someone like his mother or Uncle John decided to barge in unannounced and offer unsolicited advice on his new title and responsibility.

Paws shaking, Nick reached into his pocket and pulled out the parcel. He sank to the floor as he examined it. Wrapped in oak leaved and tied with raffia of summer wheat. His mind called up a memory of his father, vague and indistinct -as most of his memories of his father were. Standing in a wood that Nick was pretty sure was the haunted forest of Sherwood. Standing under an old oak tree.

'This tree is Duir, our door to the Lord of the Greenwood.' An affectionate smile and the older tod knelt to be on eye-level with a young Nickolas. 'Oak trees represent strength, wisdom, and nobility. They are also a symbol of the Lord of the Greenwood.'

Nick looked down at the parcel in his paws.

Wrapped in oak leaves.

A blessing from the Lord -but not the Xtian Lord.

And wrapped in wheat stems. Wheat which signified the turning of the seasons. Rebirth and renewal. The old giving way to the new.

Taking a deep breath to settle his nerves, Nick pulled the wheat stems loose and gently unfolded the oak leaves. Inside the parcel was an innocuous and innocent looking feather. A red feather. A robin's feather. The badge of Robin Goodfellow, the Puck, the goblin Hob, the Green Mammal, the Trickster. It was the symbol of a Robin under the Hood.

Nick dropped the bundle, his paws were shaking so bad.

Oak leaves and red feather fluttering to the floor in a heap. If any of the household staff were to walk in at that moment, they'd think the piled of leaves and feather nothing more than rubbish to be swept up and thrown away.

Slowly -hesitatingly- Nick gathered everything back up. The feather, the oak leaves, even the wheat-stem raffia. He clutched them in his paws for a few moments, not quite sure what to do. Completely oblivious to the fact that he was clutching them against his heart. Nick glanced around the room wildly for a place to hide them and his eyes fell on a book. The only book he owned.

Translated and transcribed by the monks at the monastery. Hand painted with illuminated illustration and decorated with gold lief. Nick had never actually read it. He pulled down the Xtian bible and shoved the Olde gods' totems between its pages and replaced the book on its shelf.

Nick stood there, staring at the tome and breathing hard as if he'd just run a mile in full chainmail carrying sword and quiver.

A blessing from the Lord of the Greenwood, the old rabbit said.

Lord of the Greenwood... his father talked of the Lord of the Wood a lot -Nick thought he remembered. No that he remembered much about his father. It had been ten years since he's last seen the old fox.

He remembered taking walks along the road out of Loxleytown. As the road would curve away from the treeline, detouring around the haunted forest, his father would keep their course. Straight as an arrow into the haunted wood. Sherwood. The Greenwood.

Nick remembered protesting. Not wanting to go in for fear of the unnatural.

But his father just ruffled the fur between his ears and told him, 'Leave the haints and the fae alone and they'll leave you alone. Remember, we are welcomed by the Lord of these woods and -so long as we behave ourselves- that invitation will always remain open. The spirits that dwell here won't go out of their way to trouble us.'

His father lead him on a winding path that Nick's young mind would never remember. It lead them to the ancient oak tree, the Duir. They sat under the Duir with another Mammal, a stag. His father called him the Great Prince and Nick asked if he was the Lord of the Greenwood his father talked about so much. But the stag just shook his head, the many prongs of his antlers rustling the lowest hanging leaves of the Duir. 'No, little kit, I'm just another who's found favor with the Green Mammal.'

Nick laid down on his bed and curled into a ball. He let the fragments of memories of his father and dark imaginings of green forest ghosts lull him into an uneasy sleep.

…

(A/N: Yup! Another "Nick is Robin Hood" fic from me. Are you at all surprised? I told you in 'Under a Green Hood' that its a head-canon of mine that Nick IS Robin Hood. This shouldn't be all that surprising. Although... I'm actually not sure if I'll continue this one. This fic crosses over Zootopia with Robin Hood and Bambi and -as many of you may have noticed already- crossovers don't seem all that popular. I'll try this for a few chapters and if people aren't liking it I'll put this to the side in favor of my other stories. Either way, please tell me what you think. Reader in-put is always very important to me.

-Renkon)