Robin Hood: Stars
Title: Stars
Characters/Pairings: Guy/Marian
Word Count: 694
Rating: PG
Summary: He wanted one perfect moment to keep--unmarred, his alone. (set during season 2)
With the bang of the heavy wooden door, Guy left the stifling air of Nottingham castle, the Sheriff's madcap planning, and a horde of tense, tired Black Knights behind. They'd taken a break from their meeting, and while the others made for the table of sweetmeats Guy had escaped to the battlements. He undid the clasps on his jacket as he walked along the walls, enjoying the occasional breeze that lifted the sultry August air.
A dark figure lay on the shallow, domed roof of the chapel--a body? he wondered, but then it sat up and called with Marian's voice, "Hello, Guy."
"Marian, what are you doing?"
"Watching shooting stars--look!" Guy raised his gaze to the deep violet-blue sky, the summer night crowded with stars. "Where?"
"You've missed it."
Guy walked to the low wall that separated the walkway from the chapel roof. "Do you often come to look for shooting stars?"
"No." Marian drew her knees up to her chest. "But you can always see them at the end of summer. If you wait long enough you--there!" This time Guy saw it, a long, bright streak of light inscribing an arc in the night sky.
"I've never seen one before," he said quietly, when the glow had faded and only an after-image indicated where it had been.
"You've never looked."
"No one taught me to."
There was a long moment in the dark; neither could see the other's face. Guy grasped the wall and hauled himself up through the crenellation. The Sheriff would wonder where he was, but he didn't care. Marian moved over so he could lie comfortably along the curved roof and unfolded partway the mantle she had bunched under her head for a pillow. They were close enough that Marian could feel the heat from his body.
While they waited for more shooting stars, they pointed out the constellations to each other. Marian knew them from spending long summer evenings in the fields, the grass sweet from the sun and fireflies making their own constellations around her. Guy had learned to use them as a guide, at sea and in the shifting sands of the Holy Land, but spoke only of his boyhood lessons in astronomy with the parish priest.
"Mackinex? I've never heard of that one."
Marian scoffed. "Some priest you had. Mackinex was the Roman god of shoemakers. Jupiter asked him to make a pair of shoes that would travel faster than the wind to so he could catch any maiden he wanted. Of course Mackinex couldn't, so he made a deal with Juno to save him from Jupiter's wrath. She put him in the night sky for safety, and so he could watch over all of Jupiter's dalliances and report them to her."
"You are completely making that up," Guy said with a laugh.
"My goodness! Did you just laugh?"
"On occasion, I do indeed." He rolled the words that he wanted to say to her over his tongue, tasting them, gauging them, but as he opened his mouth, Marian gasped. The sky had exploded with shooting stars, curving in every direction, marking constellations for a brief moment in their long, long ages of standing sentinel in the heavens. Guy turned to Marian's upturned face; her expression was of wonder and her eyes were full of stars. He leaned forward--she turned her head--and he kissed her, softly, because his heart was full and she was beautiful and there was strong stone beneath them and a dome of glittering stars above. He kissed her, softly, and her lips moved against his, her hand against his chest while his thumb swept along her jaw and down the arc of her milk-white neck.
The kiss ended. Marian dropped her chin but her eyes did not avoid his. They shone darkly. Guy lay back again, wanting one, perfect moment to keep--unmarred, his alone. Marian crossed her arms over her chest, but when she lay back, her arm and thigh touched Guy's. She did not move.
They watched the sky until the moon rose, bright and nearly full, obscuring the stars with her brilliance.
Characters/Pairings: Guy/Marian
Word Count: 694
Rating: PG
Summary: He wanted one perfect moment to keep--unmarred, his alone. (set during season 2)
With the bang of the heavy wooden door, Guy left the stifling air of Nottingham castle, the Sheriff's madcap planning, and a horde of tense, tired Black Knights behind. They'd taken a break from their meeting, and while the others made for the table of sweetmeats Guy had escaped to the battlements. He undid the clasps on his jacket as he walked along the walls, enjoying the occasional breeze that lifted the sultry August air.
A dark figure lay on the shallow, domed roof of the chapel--a body? he wondered, but then it sat up and called with Marian's voice, "Hello, Guy."
"Marian, what are you doing?"
"Watching shooting stars--look!" Guy raised his gaze to the deep violet-blue sky, the summer night crowded with stars. "Where?"
"You've missed it."
Guy walked to the low wall that separated the walkway from the chapel roof. "Do you often come to look for shooting stars?"
"No." Marian drew her knees up to her chest. "But you can always see them at the end of summer. If you wait long enough you--there!" This time Guy saw it, a long, bright streak of light inscribing an arc in the night sky.
"I've never seen one before," he said quietly, when the glow had faded and only an after-image indicated where it had been.
"You've never looked."
"No one taught me to."
There was a long moment in the dark; neither could see the other's face. Guy grasped the wall and hauled himself up through the crenellation. The Sheriff would wonder where he was, but he didn't care. Marian moved over so he could lie comfortably along the curved roof and unfolded partway the mantle she had bunched under her head for a pillow. They were close enough that Marian could feel the heat from his body.
While they waited for more shooting stars, they pointed out the constellations to each other. Marian knew them from spending long summer evenings in the fields, the grass sweet from the sun and fireflies making their own constellations around her. Guy had learned to use them as a guide, at sea and in the shifting sands of the Holy Land, but spoke only of his boyhood lessons in astronomy with the parish priest.
"Mackinex? I've never heard of that one."
Marian scoffed. "Some priest you had. Mackinex was the Roman god of shoemakers. Jupiter asked him to make a pair of shoes that would travel faster than the wind to so he could catch any maiden he wanted. Of course Mackinex couldn't, so he made a deal with Juno to save him from Jupiter's wrath. She put him in the night sky for safety, and so he could watch over all of Jupiter's dalliances and report them to her."
"You are completely making that up," Guy said with a laugh.
"My goodness! Did you just laugh?"
"On occasion, I do indeed." He rolled the words that he wanted to say to her over his tongue, tasting them, gauging them, but as he opened his mouth, Marian gasped. The sky had exploded with shooting stars, curving in every direction, marking constellations for a brief moment in their long, long ages of standing sentinel in the heavens. Guy turned to Marian's upturned face; her expression was of wonder and her eyes were full of stars. He leaned forward--she turned her head--and he kissed her, softly, because his heart was full and she was beautiful and there was strong stone beneath them and a dome of glittering stars above. He kissed her, softly, and her lips moved against his, her hand against his chest while his thumb swept along her jaw and down the arc of her milk-white neck.
The kiss ended. Marian dropped her chin but her eyes did not avoid his. They shone darkly. Guy lay back again, wanting one, perfect moment to keep--unmarred, his alone. Marian crossed her arms over her chest, but when she lay back, her arm and thigh touched Guy's. She did not move.
They watched the sky until the moon rose, bright and nearly full, obscuring the stars with her brilliance.