Robin Hood: Cloth-of-Gold
Title: Cloth-of-Gold
Pairings: Guy/Marian
Rating: G
Spoilers: none
Word Count: 644
Summary: Set after 1x07. Edward gives Marian a gift after she announces her engagement to Guy.
Marian would never forget her father's face when he turned to her after Guy of Gisborne left, secure in the promise of a bride. She turned away before he could say anything; words would come later, long discussions and even a few tears, when the shock had worn off. What was there to say anyway? Her promise had been given, she'd had no other choice, and anyway there was dinner to be fixed.
After a quiet meal her father stood, wiping his mouth. "Come with me, Marian."
Heart sinking-she was not ready to discuss her decision with her father, lest he talk her out of it-she followed him up the stairs, quietly noting the increasing stiffness and slowness with which he walked.
Edward beckoned her into his room and knelt carefully before a chest. Marian knew this chest intimately; it had been her mother's. She had sat and watched with wide eyes as her mother cleaned and aired her precious things: dresses for banquets, beautifully embroidered bed linens, packets of Belgian lace and silks acquired as good bargains waiting to be used when the time was right.
Some of them had stories; she remembered gently fingering the delicate tracery of the lace as her mother told her of her one trip away from England, to Flanders to visit her sister after she was married. She remembered the blue dress her mother had worn when she met her father for the first time, waiting impatiently to be big enough to wear it herself.
All of these moments and stories came flooding back as her father lifted out carefully wrapped parcels one by one. Marian had been through it a few times since her mother's death, though she hadn't been nearly as diligent about preserving the delicate fabrics as she probably should have been.
She didn't know if her father knew all the stories, but he handled everything with reverence. She wondered if he ever sifted through things, hoping for a hint of her mother's scent, or of the sweet marjoram she loved so much and used to tuck in around the edges of the chest to keep things smelling fresh.
There was now a small wall of fabric about her father; he reached to the very bottom of the trunk and removed a bundle wrapped in linen. Marian knew what it was before he handed it to her. She opened it slowly, fingers trembling, and the glint of gold that was revealed nearly brought her to tears.
This was her mother's greatest treasure, a wedding gift from an uncle who had once been to Byzantium. It was ells of fabric, glittering cloth-of-gold embroidered with curling, delicate gold leaves and cream flowers with centers of the deepest red. Her mother had not used it for herself but folded it carefully away against the possibility of future daughters.
It was incongruous in the old manor house with its worn, dusty floors and faded wall hangings.
Marian delicately fingered the stiff fabric, imagining it falling in folds around herself as she had done many, many times as a child. Her engagement with Robin had been broken off before the fabric had been made up, and so it had waited, untouched, for her to have the opportunity to take it out again.
This was not how she had imagined it would be.
“She would have loved to see you in it,” Edward said, and the roughness of his voice tugged at her heart. He reached out and took her hand, and their fingers curled together over the golden cloth. He was telling her he supported her decision. Though she knew he was surprised and didn't really understand, he stood by her. That meant more to her than any treasure he could give her. Marian set the cloth gently aside and fell into her father's arms.
Pairings: Guy/Marian
Rating: G
Spoilers: none
Word Count: 644
Summary: Set after 1x07. Edward gives Marian a gift after she announces her engagement to Guy.
Marian would never forget her father's face when he turned to her after Guy of Gisborne left, secure in the promise of a bride. She turned away before he could say anything; words would come later, long discussions and even a few tears, when the shock had worn off. What was there to say anyway? Her promise had been given, she'd had no other choice, and anyway there was dinner to be fixed.
After a quiet meal her father stood, wiping his mouth. "Come with me, Marian."
Heart sinking-she was not ready to discuss her decision with her father, lest he talk her out of it-she followed him up the stairs, quietly noting the increasing stiffness and slowness with which he walked.
Edward beckoned her into his room and knelt carefully before a chest. Marian knew this chest intimately; it had been her mother's. She had sat and watched with wide eyes as her mother cleaned and aired her precious things: dresses for banquets, beautifully embroidered bed linens, packets of Belgian lace and silks acquired as good bargains waiting to be used when the time was right.
Some of them had stories; she remembered gently fingering the delicate tracery of the lace as her mother told her of her one trip away from England, to Flanders to visit her sister after she was married. She remembered the blue dress her mother had worn when she met her father for the first time, waiting impatiently to be big enough to wear it herself.
All of these moments and stories came flooding back as her father lifted out carefully wrapped parcels one by one. Marian had been through it a few times since her mother's death, though she hadn't been nearly as diligent about preserving the delicate fabrics as she probably should have been.
She didn't know if her father knew all the stories, but he handled everything with reverence. She wondered if he ever sifted through things, hoping for a hint of her mother's scent, or of the sweet marjoram she loved so much and used to tuck in around the edges of the chest to keep things smelling fresh.
There was now a small wall of fabric about her father; he reached to the very bottom of the trunk and removed a bundle wrapped in linen. Marian knew what it was before he handed it to her. She opened it slowly, fingers trembling, and the glint of gold that was revealed nearly brought her to tears.
This was her mother's greatest treasure, a wedding gift from an uncle who had once been to Byzantium. It was ells of fabric, glittering cloth-of-gold embroidered with curling, delicate gold leaves and cream flowers with centers of the deepest red. Her mother had not used it for herself but folded it carefully away against the possibility of future daughters.
It was incongruous in the old manor house with its worn, dusty floors and faded wall hangings.
Marian delicately fingered the stiff fabric, imagining it falling in folds around herself as she had done many, many times as a child. Her engagement with Robin had been broken off before the fabric had been made up, and so it had waited, untouched, for her to have the opportunity to take it out again.
This was not how she had imagined it would be.
“She would have loved to see you in it,” Edward said, and the roughness of his voice tugged at her heart. He reached out and took her hand, and their fingers curled together over the golden cloth. He was telling her he supported her decision. Though she knew he was surprised and didn't really understand, he stood by her. That meant more to her than any treasure he could give her. Marian set the cloth gently aside and fell into her father's arms.