An Unexpected Saviour
Title: An Unexpected Saviour
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 402 words
Characters/Pairings: Marian, Allan; Allan/Marian
Prompt: Allan/Marian; help
Summary: “Help me,” she gasps out, just as the tavern door slams open and guards spill in.
Notes: Another piece that got away with me and is too long to be a drabble.
The guards are closing in on her; she can sense them almost on her heels. She ducks and weaves blindly through the market, desperately seeking an escape route. She sees guards approaching her from three sides and propels herself the only way she can; forwards, through a doorway, and into a tavern. She hurtles past the tables, thankfully unnoticed - the clientele of this particular unsavoury establishment are far too occupied with the serving girls to notice a hooded figure flying past - until she run headlong into someone.
“Oi, watch it!” cries a familiar voice. Allan.
She raises her head so her face isn’t obscured by her hood, her fear evident even as she struggles for breath. “Help me,” she gasps out, just as the tavern door slams open and guards spill in. Allan takes one look over her shoulder at the new arrivals, puts two and two together, and pulls her into a darkened alcove before she can be seen.
“Trust me,” he says, pressing her into the corner until she is completely obscured by the shadows and his body, and lowers his lips to hers.
He kisses her with a passion that takes her aback, his lips working hers ferociously, their mutual breathlessness (his feigned) causing them to pant and gasp for breath when they break apart for a second, before resuming their kiss with all the vigour appropriate to their current whereabouts. Marian has no doubts about what they must look like, but as his hands creep out to clutch at her sides she finds herself forgetting to care about that.
Their lips clash again. Robin has never kissed her like this, nor has Guy, and she finds herself with a rigour that their affections have never initiated in her, so much so that when the guards decide their target must have left through the side door and promptly resume their pursuit, it is with a surprising difficulty that they break apart from their passionate embrace.
“Thanks,” she mumbles weakly. Whether she’s breathless from having run so far or from his kiss, she has no idea.
“Not a problem,” is his automatic, equally awkward, response.
She turns away immediately after he speaks, anxious to get away from this surreal situation as quickly as possible. And the guards could return at any minute, she adds as an afterthought.
She can still taste him on her lips for many hours that follow.
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 402 words
Characters/Pairings: Marian, Allan; Allan/Marian
Prompt: Allan/Marian; help
Summary: “Help me,” she gasps out, just as the tavern door slams open and guards spill in.
Notes: Another piece that got away with me and is too long to be a drabble.
The guards are closing in on her; she can sense them almost on her heels. She ducks and weaves blindly through the market, desperately seeking an escape route. She sees guards approaching her from three sides and propels herself the only way she can; forwards, through a doorway, and into a tavern. She hurtles past the tables, thankfully unnoticed - the clientele of this particular unsavoury establishment are far too occupied with the serving girls to notice a hooded figure flying past - until she run headlong into someone.
“Oi, watch it!” cries a familiar voice. Allan.
She raises her head so her face isn’t obscured by her hood, her fear evident even as she struggles for breath. “Help me,” she gasps out, just as the tavern door slams open and guards spill in. Allan takes one look over her shoulder at the new arrivals, puts two and two together, and pulls her into a darkened alcove before she can be seen.
“Trust me,” he says, pressing her into the corner until she is completely obscured by the shadows and his body, and lowers his lips to hers.
He kisses her with a passion that takes her aback, his lips working hers ferociously, their mutual breathlessness (his feigned) causing them to pant and gasp for breath when they break apart for a second, before resuming their kiss with all the vigour appropriate to their current whereabouts. Marian has no doubts about what they must look like, but as his hands creep out to clutch at her sides she finds herself forgetting to care about that.
Their lips clash again. Robin has never kissed her like this, nor has Guy, and she finds herself with a rigour that their affections have never initiated in her, so much so that when the guards decide their target must have left through the side door and promptly resume their pursuit, it is with a surprising difficulty that they break apart from their passionate embrace.
“Thanks,” she mumbles weakly. Whether she’s breathless from having run so far or from his kiss, she has no idea.
“Not a problem,” is his automatic, equally awkward, response.
She turns away immediately after he speaks, anxious to get away from this surreal situation as quickly as possible. And the guards could return at any minute, she adds as an afterthought.
She can still taste him on her lips for many hours that follow.