Grains of Sand - Allan (/Marian)
Title: Grains of Sand
Author: punkfunkdisco
Characters/Pairings: Allan (/Marian)
Spoilers: For 2x12 and 2x13
Rating: T
Summary: Ficlet set during 2x13. My very angsty take on where Allan was when The Big Event was taking place (because did you see him about? No, neither did I).
Word Count: 392
Disclaimer: I did not create, nor do I own, any of the characters. Not making anything from them.
Betas: The wonderful nausicaa17 and the fabulous precious_rosie (who, again, thought up the title!)
A/N: My A/M shipper heart got a bit carried away so it's very angsty and veers slightly OOC but my justification for this is that every bloody other character in the scene was so Allan is too!
Allan was the last of them to arrive, hurtling into the square after hearing Robin’s cry.
Whilst the other outlaws all stood around the wounded Marian, who was being cradled by a distraught Robin, Allan suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, trying hard to comprehend what he was seeing; Marian’s white dress stained red with blood and the protruding weapon from her body. Staring in shock at the horrific scene in front of him, Allan became distracted by a movement out of the corner of his eye and, glancing across the square, he caught sight of the Sheriff and Guy, riding triumphantly away on the Sheriff’s horse.
As the realisation struck Allan, his legs gave way and he fell to his knees. He tried to take a deep breath, but his lungs would not fill. He automatically assumed the worst because the worst would happen to him. It always did. Things were finally going right for him; the acceptance of the gang, the attention of a beautiful woman, but now it was all falling apart again, crumbling away like the sand beneath his feet and he was powerless to do anything about it.
Allan knew he should move closer and see exactly what was happening but he did not dare, fearing he might accidentally let something slip about his feelings for her. He wondered if she would want to see him because he wanted to let her know he was there, that it was not just Robin that mattered in her life. He hesitated, thinking about how he had only just been forgiven by the group. If they knew of this betrayal there would be no going back for him; no easy acceptance or friendly jokes from Much.
And without Marian he would need the gang more than ever.
Allan managed to struggle to his feet and walk further forward until he heard the vows. He sighed sadly, resigned to his current position. He could not listen to her marry Robin on her deathbed. No, that would not be his lasting memory of her.
So he turned away and rubbed his face, damp with tears he had not noticed were forming in his eyes. He sat down before his legs gave way again and stared intently between his knees at the tragedy unfolding before him.
How could this be the Holy Land?
Author: punkfunkdisco
Characters/Pairings: Allan (/Marian)
Spoilers: For 2x12 and 2x13
Rating: T
Summary: Ficlet set during 2x13. My very angsty take on where Allan was when The Big Event was taking place (because did you see him about? No, neither did I).
Word Count: 392
Disclaimer: I did not create, nor do I own, any of the characters. Not making anything from them.
Betas: The wonderful nausicaa17 and the fabulous precious_rosie (who, again, thought up the title!)
A/N: My A/M shipper heart got a bit carried away so it's very angsty and veers slightly OOC but my justification for this is that every bloody other character in the scene was so Allan is too!
Allan was the last of them to arrive, hurtling into the square after hearing Robin’s cry.
Whilst the other outlaws all stood around the wounded Marian, who was being cradled by a distraught Robin, Allan suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, trying hard to comprehend what he was seeing; Marian’s white dress stained red with blood and the protruding weapon from her body. Staring in shock at the horrific scene in front of him, Allan became distracted by a movement out of the corner of his eye and, glancing across the square, he caught sight of the Sheriff and Guy, riding triumphantly away on the Sheriff’s horse.
As the realisation struck Allan, his legs gave way and he fell to his knees. He tried to take a deep breath, but his lungs would not fill. He automatically assumed the worst because the worst would happen to him. It always did. Things were finally going right for him; the acceptance of the gang, the attention of a beautiful woman, but now it was all falling apart again, crumbling away like the sand beneath his feet and he was powerless to do anything about it.
Allan knew he should move closer and see exactly what was happening but he did not dare, fearing he might accidentally let something slip about his feelings for her. He wondered if she would want to see him because he wanted to let her know he was there, that it was not just Robin that mattered in her life. He hesitated, thinking about how he had only just been forgiven by the group. If they knew of this betrayal there would be no going back for him; no easy acceptance or friendly jokes from Much.
And without Marian he would need the gang more than ever.
Allan managed to struggle to his feet and walk further forward until he heard the vows. He sighed sadly, resigned to his current position. He could not listen to her marry Robin on her deathbed. No, that would not be his lasting memory of her.
So he turned away and rubbed his face, damp with tears he had not noticed were forming in his eyes. He sat down before his legs gave way again and stared intently between his knees at the tragedy unfolding before him.
How could this be the Holy Land?