Flooded, Part 2/3
Original Post
Word Count: 2747 this section (7074 overall)
Rating: PG
Characters: Robin, OC; discussion of Robin/Marian
Genre: angst
Spoilers: Set between 3x01 and 3x02.
Summary: Robin has no way to distract himself from his memories.
Disclaimer: The show Robin Hood and the characters portrayed within are the property of TA and the BBC; I mean no infringement and make nothing from this. Just playing in the world they provided.
Notes: For robinsociety in rh_intercomm. Thanks to mylogiceatsyou and desertrose9 for beta'ing. :)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
It was a good thing that they had packed food and firewood, as Ellie had run out of both. Her cottage was much like the others around the shire; a single room, with a bed in one corner and a chest at its foot, a table and basin off to the side of the hearth, rough shelves along a wall, and a pair of armchairs in front of the cold fireplace. While Robin built up a fire and started one of the rabbits cooking over it, his back to the room, she changed into dry clothing. When she was decent and the food was cooking, he accepted the change of clothes she offered him.
"You're about of a height with Andrew," she said evenly, as she handed the outfit to him. "He was broader, but it should do well enough until your own things are dry."
Gently, he accepted them. "Thank you." He studied her, wondering if he would be able to so freely share a dress of Marian's-- if he had one-- in a similar situation.
Ellie would not meet his gaze, mumbling, "'Tis nothing," before trading places with him to tend the rabbit whilst he changed.
He had to tighten the drawstring on the trousers more than it seemed was intended when they were made, but otherwise, everything fit well enough, as Ellie had expected. He hoped that she would not be too bothered to see him wearing her husband's clothes; if she appeared put out, he would make do with his own, drenched attire. Fortunately, other than a startled look when she initially turned away from the hearth, she was calm enough.
The meat finished cooking soon afterward, and they ate in relative silence, each lost in their own thoughts. It was not until Ellie dug around in the chest that sat at the foot of her bed and produced a bottle that the conversation picked up.
"I'd been saving this for a special occasion, and figure being flooded into my house is fairly special."
Glad to be pulled from his musings, Robin inquired, "What is it?"
"Whisky from up north. Andrew traded some travelling monks for it last year." She smiled wistfully. "He got three bottles; this is the last one."
"Are you sure you wish to share it with me?"
She shrugged. "Might as well. If the cliff gives way, it'll just go to waste."
"There's a cheery thought," he replied dryly.
With a chuckle, she poured them each a generous dram. Handing Robin a cup, she took a sip from her own. "My concept of 'cheery' is a bit different than most, I expect."
As he sampled the drink, he thought about what she had said. The Hulmes had not needed much help from the gang before, so they had not known her or her husband well. However, they had met in passing a few times, and Robin remembered her as being fairly sunny then. With a sharp sense of humor, to be sure; but with an outlook that would commonly be referred to as "cheery." He knew what had changed her, and knew as well that nothing could make it right.
Bottle in hand, she went over to a chair in front of the hearth and gestured to its mate, and Robin joined her. "Well, life never quite turns out like we expect, does it?" she reflected.
He had to laugh. "Truer words were never spoken."
Realizing to whom she had made the statement, she laughed along with him. "Oh, dear. That is rather an understatement, from your point of view."
"Just a bit." His amusement faded as he considered everything he thought he would have by this point in his life.
Breaking into his thoughts, she asked quietly, "Do you regret it?"
He tossed back the last of his drink and winced against it before answering. "Never. And daily." When she squinted at him in incomprehension, he shrugged, frowning at his empty cup as he heard his own words. He never admitted that, not anymore. Tuck had reminded him of the importance of what he was doing, and he appreciated it. He needed to concentrate on the present, not on the unchangeable past. Not on what he could have had.
Silently, Ellie held out the bottle, offering him a refill. The amount she poured into his cup was double what it had been the first time, and she emptied her own cup before refilling it, as well. "We had the chance to leave, two years ago. Andrew's brother, down in Kent, offered us some of his land. But our lives were here, so we declined." Taking a large swig from her cup, she continued, "If we had gone, there are people here who might have starved without Andrew's help." She held up a hand to stop him from responding to that. "I've told you, I do not blame you. You had something crucial to see to. All I meant was that I understand. We enjoyed our life here, and did something important; so, in that sense, I do not regret our decision to stay. And yet..." She sighed and took another drink.
He did the same. Then, wanting to switch topics a bit but recognizing that she needed to talk about her husband, Robin asked, "What was he like? I never really got to speak with him."
She glanced at him in surprise, and then smiled as she looked back to the fire. "Andrew Hulme was a braggart and a bully."
Now, it was his turn to be surprised. "What?"
She chuckled. "That's what I told him when he first came courting. He was friends with my brother, and they often came back to my family's house drunk off their heads. Inevitably, Andrew would tell a tale of how he bested five men, single-handedly, in a fight at the inn; or that he did not like the look a man gave him, and how he dealt with it."
Robin grinned. "So, how did he win you over, then?"
"It took him awhile," she acknowledged. "He asked me for seven months solid, and even got my brother trying to sell him to me. If he had not been so damned handsome, I probably could have held out 'til the end of time. Finally, I agreed to go for a walk with him, if he would promise to leave me alone after that."
"I take it he did not," joked Robin.
"Oh, but he did!" she laughed. "I had such a lovely time that afternoon, and when we were nearing my home on the way back, I stopped and hinted strongly that he could kiss me, if he liked." She sipped from her cup. "He leaned over, and said, 'Ellie Cross, you agreed to a walk, and that is all you shall get.' Then he winked, and went on to his own home. And I did not see him again for two weeks."
Robin had been enjoying her story, and did not notice that his cup was empty once more, until he went to take a drink from it and came up dry. Ellie picked up the bottle again and topped off her own drink before handing it to him. "So, what happened next?" he prompted.
"When I asked my brother why he had not been around, he reminded me that I had said Andrew should leave me be after our walk. He also said I would have to make it right. So, I did. I marched right over to Andrew's house, knocked on the door, and when he answered it, I kissed him."
His eyebrows shot up and she giggled at the memory; he suspected the whisky had something to do with the sound. Lord knew, he was feeling the effects, and he had to have a better head for spirits than she.
"We held our wedding six weeks later. And I'll tell you what: it turned out he made most of those bragging tales up to impress me. We were married for four years, and a kinder, more gentle-minded man, I never knew."
They were both quiet for a moment, and then Robin raised his cup. "To Andrew," he said softly.
"To Andrew," she agreed, and they both drank. After another minute or so had passed, she said, "Tell me about her."
He started. After what Ellie had just shared, he could hardly refuse, though his instinct was to do so. Polishing off his drink in two, large gulps, he waited to fill the cup back up before speaking. "You never met her?"
"Once or twice, in passing. She was very lovely. Very noble."
He pondered the woman who had consumed his thoughts for the last several months, and who had actively lived in them for most of his life before that. "Lovely" did not begin to describe her. "Noble," on the other hand... "She was what every noblewoman should be: kind, compassionate, strong. Willing to stand up for those who depended on her. Intelligent, and thoughtful.
"And she was beautiful. Gorgeous, in fact." He had never met a woman who affected him as she did. Not on both a physical and an emotional level, and it was the combination of the two that made her so unique. So... necessary.
"Tell me a story about her." When he glanced at Ellie, she smiled. "You just told me things that anybody could have said. Tell me about the Marian you knew."
Everything within him protested, although in a much more muted manner than usual; he silenced that reaction with another long drink of the whisky. Perhaps an older memory would be less painful than something more recent. "When she and Edward arrived here, it was not even a year since my father died. She was almost five years old, and had lost her mother a few months earlier." He had to smile at the memory of Marian as a tiny girl, her hair in braids, and still looking rather babylike. There had been a time when he had imagined a daughter who looked just like her--
That was too painful. He continued his tale in order to distract his mind. "As lord of Locksley, even though I was not much older than she, I went to welcome them. Edward invited me to stay to supper; I cannot imagine what he was thinking, being greeted by a child and dining with two children." He shook his head in amusement. "But he never made me uncomfortable. Somehow, he managed to make me feel respected in my station.
"Marian, on the other hand, did not. She was petulant all through the meal, since she had thought to find a playmate, and instead I was talking to her father; so, she would not speak to me the rest of my visit."
"Not the best start to a future relationship," Ellie noted with a grin. Her words were a bit slurred and her hands not very steady as she poured more liquid into her cup. For himself, Robin had to concentrate when he raised his cup to his lips.
Belatedly remembering to reply, he agreed, "Not at all. But when I had them to dinner the following week, she had learned of my situation and sympathized; in fact, when Edward excused himself, she started talking to me of her mother. She did not notice right away when Edward returned, and he stared at her in astonishment when he heard what she was saying. Apparently, she had refused to speak of Kate since her death. And in fact, I was the only one she would confide in for quite some time."
"Is that why you were betrothed?"
"No, that was not until much later. I was not the most well-behaved young man, and Edward did not particularly like her being associated with me." Ellie giggled again, burping slightly at the end. "But I was not so horrible that he could truly object to our friendship. Still, he would not have welcomed my suit; when I did bring it up to him, when Marian was fourteen, he denied me unless I settled down and maintained respectable behavior for a year. At first, I balked, used to doing as I pleased; yet, when I considered what was at stake, I knew she was worth it. I agreed. And when she was fifteen, he allowed me to propose to her."
Ellie held up a hand. "You're telling me more about her father than you're telling me 'bout her."
He considered that. "I guess I am." Pausing to refill his cup, he took a swig before continuing. "Well, I'll tell you about the proposal, then." It occurred to him that he had never spoken of this to anyone, not even Much; however, the thought was a vague one thanks to the pleasant fog in his head, and therefore easily ignored. "I had Cook make a special luncheon, and set up a picnic in the meadow; and then, I invited Marian for a ride. She thought we would eat when we returned to Knighton, and started saying we should turn back when it got close to midday. Since I was nervous and wanted to surprise her, I did not say that there was food awaiting us-- but could not think of any other excuse. So, I kept telling her that we would turn back soon. Eventually, she grew angry with me, and announced that she was going back, with or without me."
When he paused to take a drink, Ellie asked, "Did she?"
Robin shook his head, blinking for a moment when the movement made him dizzy. "I told her about the picnic, but not the reason for it. She got excited, and we continued toward the meadow. But, I had forgotten to ask anybody to keep an eye on it. Most of the food had been scavenged by animals by the time we arrived."
"Oh, dear!" she exclaimed. "What did you do?"
He suppressed a burp. "I knelt amongst the debris and asked her to marry me."
"And she said yes?"
Smiling once more, he said, "After questioning how I expected to care for her when I failed to do so for a simple meal, reminding me that she was famished, and then scolding me for dirtying my trousers by kneeling in bits of a pudding... yes." She had been magnificent in her ire, and while at the time he had been annoyed that she would go on at him after he had put so much effort into the afternoon, he had also been looking forward to a lifetime of similar moments.
Once, shortly after their betrothal, she had chided him for something (he could no longer recall exactly what) following a meeting of the Council of Nobles. A daughter of another nobleman had overheard the exchange, and approached him afterward. She asked why he would tie himself to a woman who berated him, when he could have his pick of young ladies who would make docile, agreeable wives. As he watched the girl bat her eyelashes, he could not fathom why any man would wish such a boring fate on himself.
"She sounds like a spitfire," Ellie mumbled.
Despite the numbing effects of the whisky, Robin felt a sharp ache in his chest. He threw back the contents of his cup, preferring the burn of the liquor to that of Marian's loss. "She may have been schooled to conceal her passions, but they were always there. They came out most obviously when she was championing the helpless; but, once in awhile, she allowed them out for me. And she let them take over, a bit, that afternoon." Realizing what he had said, he glanced over at Ellie-- and was relieved to see that she was slumped in her chair, her head listing to the side and her drink dangling from her fingers. As he watched, she let out a snore and shifted, unconsciously trying to find a more comfortable position, and dropped her empty cup. Robin pushed to his feet, swaying slightly, but fairly certain he could move her without doing them both an injury. With deliberation, he picked her up and shuffled over to her bed; once there, he managed to lay her down and cover her up. Then, he snagged a second blanket that was folded along the foot of the mattress, and curled up on the small rug in front of the hearth.
Between the warmth of the fire and that of the alcohol, he was soon snoring, as well.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
*
Word Count: 2747 this section (7074 overall)
Rating: PG
Characters: Robin, OC; discussion of Robin/Marian
Genre: angst
Spoilers: Set between 3x01 and 3x02.
Summary: Robin has no way to distract himself from his memories.
Disclaimer: The show Robin Hood and the characters portrayed within are the property of TA and the BBC; I mean no infringement and make nothing from this. Just playing in the world they provided.
Notes: For robinsociety in rh_intercomm. Thanks to mylogiceatsyou and desertrose9 for beta'ing. :)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
It was a good thing that they had packed food and firewood, as Ellie had run out of both. Her cottage was much like the others around the shire; a single room, with a bed in one corner and a chest at its foot, a table and basin off to the side of the hearth, rough shelves along a wall, and a pair of armchairs in front of the cold fireplace. While Robin built up a fire and started one of the rabbits cooking over it, his back to the room, she changed into dry clothing. When she was decent and the food was cooking, he accepted the change of clothes she offered him.
"You're about of a height with Andrew," she said evenly, as she handed the outfit to him. "He was broader, but it should do well enough until your own things are dry."
Gently, he accepted them. "Thank you." He studied her, wondering if he would be able to so freely share a dress of Marian's-- if he had one-- in a similar situation.
Ellie would not meet his gaze, mumbling, "'Tis nothing," before trading places with him to tend the rabbit whilst he changed.
He had to tighten the drawstring on the trousers more than it seemed was intended when they were made, but otherwise, everything fit well enough, as Ellie had expected. He hoped that she would not be too bothered to see him wearing her husband's clothes; if she appeared put out, he would make do with his own, drenched attire. Fortunately, other than a startled look when she initially turned away from the hearth, she was calm enough.
The meat finished cooking soon afterward, and they ate in relative silence, each lost in their own thoughts. It was not until Ellie dug around in the chest that sat at the foot of her bed and produced a bottle that the conversation picked up.
"I'd been saving this for a special occasion, and figure being flooded into my house is fairly special."
Glad to be pulled from his musings, Robin inquired, "What is it?"
"Whisky from up north. Andrew traded some travelling monks for it last year." She smiled wistfully. "He got three bottles; this is the last one."
"Are you sure you wish to share it with me?"
She shrugged. "Might as well. If the cliff gives way, it'll just go to waste."
"There's a cheery thought," he replied dryly.
With a chuckle, she poured them each a generous dram. Handing Robin a cup, she took a sip from her own. "My concept of 'cheery' is a bit different than most, I expect."
As he sampled the drink, he thought about what she had said. The Hulmes had not needed much help from the gang before, so they had not known her or her husband well. However, they had met in passing a few times, and Robin remembered her as being fairly sunny then. With a sharp sense of humor, to be sure; but with an outlook that would commonly be referred to as "cheery." He knew what had changed her, and knew as well that nothing could make it right.
Bottle in hand, she went over to a chair in front of the hearth and gestured to its mate, and Robin joined her. "Well, life never quite turns out like we expect, does it?" she reflected.
He had to laugh. "Truer words were never spoken."
Realizing to whom she had made the statement, she laughed along with him. "Oh, dear. That is rather an understatement, from your point of view."
"Just a bit." His amusement faded as he considered everything he thought he would have by this point in his life.
Breaking into his thoughts, she asked quietly, "Do you regret it?"
He tossed back the last of his drink and winced against it before answering. "Never. And daily." When she squinted at him in incomprehension, he shrugged, frowning at his empty cup as he heard his own words. He never admitted that, not anymore. Tuck had reminded him of the importance of what he was doing, and he appreciated it. He needed to concentrate on the present, not on the unchangeable past. Not on what he could have had.
Silently, Ellie held out the bottle, offering him a refill. The amount she poured into his cup was double what it had been the first time, and she emptied her own cup before refilling it, as well. "We had the chance to leave, two years ago. Andrew's brother, down in Kent, offered us some of his land. But our lives were here, so we declined." Taking a large swig from her cup, she continued, "If we had gone, there are people here who might have starved without Andrew's help." She held up a hand to stop him from responding to that. "I've told you, I do not blame you. You had something crucial to see to. All I meant was that I understand. We enjoyed our life here, and did something important; so, in that sense, I do not regret our decision to stay. And yet..." She sighed and took another drink.
He did the same. Then, wanting to switch topics a bit but recognizing that she needed to talk about her husband, Robin asked, "What was he like? I never really got to speak with him."
She glanced at him in surprise, and then smiled as she looked back to the fire. "Andrew Hulme was a braggart and a bully."
Now, it was his turn to be surprised. "What?"
She chuckled. "That's what I told him when he first came courting. He was friends with my brother, and they often came back to my family's house drunk off their heads. Inevitably, Andrew would tell a tale of how he bested five men, single-handedly, in a fight at the inn; or that he did not like the look a man gave him, and how he dealt with it."
Robin grinned. "So, how did he win you over, then?"
"It took him awhile," she acknowledged. "He asked me for seven months solid, and even got my brother trying to sell him to me. If he had not been so damned handsome, I probably could have held out 'til the end of time. Finally, I agreed to go for a walk with him, if he would promise to leave me alone after that."
"I take it he did not," joked Robin.
"Oh, but he did!" she laughed. "I had such a lovely time that afternoon, and when we were nearing my home on the way back, I stopped and hinted strongly that he could kiss me, if he liked." She sipped from her cup. "He leaned over, and said, 'Ellie Cross, you agreed to a walk, and that is all you shall get.' Then he winked, and went on to his own home. And I did not see him again for two weeks."
Robin had been enjoying her story, and did not notice that his cup was empty once more, until he went to take a drink from it and came up dry. Ellie picked up the bottle again and topped off her own drink before handing it to him. "So, what happened next?" he prompted.
"When I asked my brother why he had not been around, he reminded me that I had said Andrew should leave me be after our walk. He also said I would have to make it right. So, I did. I marched right over to Andrew's house, knocked on the door, and when he answered it, I kissed him."
His eyebrows shot up and she giggled at the memory; he suspected the whisky had something to do with the sound. Lord knew, he was feeling the effects, and he had to have a better head for spirits than she.
"We held our wedding six weeks later. And I'll tell you what: it turned out he made most of those bragging tales up to impress me. We were married for four years, and a kinder, more gentle-minded man, I never knew."
They were both quiet for a moment, and then Robin raised his cup. "To Andrew," he said softly.
"To Andrew," she agreed, and they both drank. After another minute or so had passed, she said, "Tell me about her."
He started. After what Ellie had just shared, he could hardly refuse, though his instinct was to do so. Polishing off his drink in two, large gulps, he waited to fill the cup back up before speaking. "You never met her?"
"Once or twice, in passing. She was very lovely. Very noble."
He pondered the woman who had consumed his thoughts for the last several months, and who had actively lived in them for most of his life before that. "Lovely" did not begin to describe her. "Noble," on the other hand... "She was what every noblewoman should be: kind, compassionate, strong. Willing to stand up for those who depended on her. Intelligent, and thoughtful.
"And she was beautiful. Gorgeous, in fact." He had never met a woman who affected him as she did. Not on both a physical and an emotional level, and it was the combination of the two that made her so unique. So... necessary.
"Tell me a story about her." When he glanced at Ellie, she smiled. "You just told me things that anybody could have said. Tell me about the Marian you knew."
Everything within him protested, although in a much more muted manner than usual; he silenced that reaction with another long drink of the whisky. Perhaps an older memory would be less painful than something more recent. "When she and Edward arrived here, it was not even a year since my father died. She was almost five years old, and had lost her mother a few months earlier." He had to smile at the memory of Marian as a tiny girl, her hair in braids, and still looking rather babylike. There had been a time when he had imagined a daughter who looked just like her--
That was too painful. He continued his tale in order to distract his mind. "As lord of Locksley, even though I was not much older than she, I went to welcome them. Edward invited me to stay to supper; I cannot imagine what he was thinking, being greeted by a child and dining with two children." He shook his head in amusement. "But he never made me uncomfortable. Somehow, he managed to make me feel respected in my station.
"Marian, on the other hand, did not. She was petulant all through the meal, since she had thought to find a playmate, and instead I was talking to her father; so, she would not speak to me the rest of my visit."
"Not the best start to a future relationship," Ellie noted with a grin. Her words were a bit slurred and her hands not very steady as she poured more liquid into her cup. For himself, Robin had to concentrate when he raised his cup to his lips.
Belatedly remembering to reply, he agreed, "Not at all. But when I had them to dinner the following week, she had learned of my situation and sympathized; in fact, when Edward excused himself, she started talking to me of her mother. She did not notice right away when Edward returned, and he stared at her in astonishment when he heard what she was saying. Apparently, she had refused to speak of Kate since her death. And in fact, I was the only one she would confide in for quite some time."
"Is that why you were betrothed?"
"No, that was not until much later. I was not the most well-behaved young man, and Edward did not particularly like her being associated with me." Ellie giggled again, burping slightly at the end. "But I was not so horrible that he could truly object to our friendship. Still, he would not have welcomed my suit; when I did bring it up to him, when Marian was fourteen, he denied me unless I settled down and maintained respectable behavior for a year. At first, I balked, used to doing as I pleased; yet, when I considered what was at stake, I knew she was worth it. I agreed. And when she was fifteen, he allowed me to propose to her."
Ellie held up a hand. "You're telling me more about her father than you're telling me 'bout her."
He considered that. "I guess I am." Pausing to refill his cup, he took a swig before continuing. "Well, I'll tell you about the proposal, then." It occurred to him that he had never spoken of this to anyone, not even Much; however, the thought was a vague one thanks to the pleasant fog in his head, and therefore easily ignored. "I had Cook make a special luncheon, and set up a picnic in the meadow; and then, I invited Marian for a ride. She thought we would eat when we returned to Knighton, and started saying we should turn back when it got close to midday. Since I was nervous and wanted to surprise her, I did not say that there was food awaiting us-- but could not think of any other excuse. So, I kept telling her that we would turn back soon. Eventually, she grew angry with me, and announced that she was going back, with or without me."
When he paused to take a drink, Ellie asked, "Did she?"
Robin shook his head, blinking for a moment when the movement made him dizzy. "I told her about the picnic, but not the reason for it. She got excited, and we continued toward the meadow. But, I had forgotten to ask anybody to keep an eye on it. Most of the food had been scavenged by animals by the time we arrived."
"Oh, dear!" she exclaimed. "What did you do?"
He suppressed a burp. "I knelt amongst the debris and asked her to marry me."
"And she said yes?"
Smiling once more, he said, "After questioning how I expected to care for her when I failed to do so for a simple meal, reminding me that she was famished, and then scolding me for dirtying my trousers by kneeling in bits of a pudding... yes." She had been magnificent in her ire, and while at the time he had been annoyed that she would go on at him after he had put so much effort into the afternoon, he had also been looking forward to a lifetime of similar moments.
Once, shortly after their betrothal, she had chided him for something (he could no longer recall exactly what) following a meeting of the Council of Nobles. A daughter of another nobleman had overheard the exchange, and approached him afterward. She asked why he would tie himself to a woman who berated him, when he could have his pick of young ladies who would make docile, agreeable wives. As he watched the girl bat her eyelashes, he could not fathom why any man would wish such a boring fate on himself.
"She sounds like a spitfire," Ellie mumbled.
Despite the numbing effects of the whisky, Robin felt a sharp ache in his chest. He threw back the contents of his cup, preferring the burn of the liquor to that of Marian's loss. "She may have been schooled to conceal her passions, but they were always there. They came out most obviously when she was championing the helpless; but, once in awhile, she allowed them out for me. And she let them take over, a bit, that afternoon." Realizing what he had said, he glanced over at Ellie-- and was relieved to see that she was slumped in her chair, her head listing to the side and her drink dangling from her fingers. As he watched, she let out a snore and shifted, unconsciously trying to find a more comfortable position, and dropped her empty cup. Robin pushed to his feet, swaying slightly, but fairly certain he could move her without doing them both an injury. With deliberation, he picked her up and shuffled over to her bed; once there, he managed to lay her down and cover her up. Then, he snagged a second blanket that was folded along the foot of the mattress, and curled up on the small rug in front of the hearth.
Between the warmth of the fire and that of the alcohol, he was soon snoring, as well.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
*