The Force of Destiny, Chapter 1
Original Post
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/characters: Robin/Marian, with mentions of others
Word count: 3389
Spoilers: While this alters the end of S2, there are still a few spoilers for the whole run of the show, including S3.
Summary: Robin's recurring nightmare leads to a midnight venture into Sherwood with Marian.
Disclaimer: Neither rights nor profits be mine.
previous chapter
-1-
Robin jerked awake, his heart pounding. Beside him, Marian stirred, disturbed by his movement.
Lifting her head from where it had been resting on his shoulder, she peered blearily down at him, a frown marring her brow. "What's wrong?" she asked in a voice still slurred by sleep. "Another nightmare?"
Not long ago, the question would have had an entirely different connotation for him, one of war; but, what it meant now was worse in many ways. The dream's images would not disperse, and the panic and desperation they wrought yet held him in their grip. "Tell me that you're safe," he demanded more harshly than he intended, grasping her shoulders with the fear that if he let go, she would fade like a memory. "Tell me that I stopped Gisborne from killing you."
His fingers were digging into her arms just short of being painful, but the terror in his eyes hurt her more. It was not the first time he had awoken so desperately, but this was the worst occasion yet. Masking her discomfort and concern since he clearly needed to be calmed, she smiled, gently placing a hand on his cheek. "I am safe, Robin. You stopped him from killing me."
He stared at her a moment longer, before suddenly relaxing back with a long, troubled sigh. Marian cuddled against him again, her fingers tracing a light pattern on his chest. "Do you want to tell me about it?"
"No." He hesitated, and then added, "But, you want me to."
It was an uphill battle, one Marian had been fighting since before she came to live in the forest for good. Robin was too quick to hide his feelings, burying them so deeply that they attacked him when his guard was down, like this. While she was also guilty of that sort of behavior, she had been making a concerted effort to open up to him more, and she was set on receiving that same consideration.
The one good thing that had come from their awful journey east was deciding to marry without waiting for everything to be resolved. They had already exchanged vows in front of their friends when they thought they would bake to death in the desert; and the terror on Robin's face in the instant before he knew whether or not he had halted Guy's sword in time was an image Marian could not erase, breaking her heart a little more every time her mind replayed it. So, when he had taken her aside that evening and quietly asked if she would consider having an official ceremony upon their return home, something to give them a better memory than what they had, she agreed immediately.
The king's admonition was merely a footnote after that. He had offered to perform their wedding before they left, but Robin turned him down, wanting to be married at Locksley. On one hand, Marian thought being married by the king was not an opportunity to pass up; however, Locksley Chapel was where Robin's family had married for the last few generations, and that meant more. Even though, in the end, the ceremony had been held in Sherwood, it had been too perfect a day to have cause for any regret.
However it had come to pass, the point was that she was his wife now, the ring firmly on her finger, and her husband was not going to keep important things to himself any longer, such as the dream that kept plaguing him. If it came to it, she would tie him to a tree and not free him until he related the entire tale; hopefully, though, she would be able to simply talk him into it. "Yes, I want you to tell me."
So far, they did not appear to have woken anyone else, but Robin wanted to ensure that the others not hear him recount some of the deep-seated fears that continued to disturb him. "Come for a walk with me," he murmured.
They rose in silence, donning cloaks against the cool air. The days were getting warmer, but the nights had not yet caught on to the idea. Quickly scanning the placid faces of the sleeping gang, Robin's eyes stopped briefly on Allan. His friend's betrayal still hurt, even despite the time that had passed since their reconciliation. He had come close to killing the man on more than one occasion; but seeing his friend die in the dream, a half-dozen arrows in his body, was nearly as bad as the recollections of their fights. Never, Robin vowed silently. I will never freely doubt your loyalty.
He then peered over at Carter, dozing silently in his bunk. The Crusader had had such a close call that Djaq was barely able to save him, and even now, six months later, his healed wound pained him. In the nightmare, everyone was so caught up in Marian's suffering that they had not even noticed the soldier's absence, leaving him to bleed out in that alley.
Marian touched his arm. "Are we going?" she asked quietly. Robin nodded, and hand-in-hand, they crept out of the camp and into the forest.
When they were far enough away that they would not be heard, Robin sank down beneath a large, elderly yew tree and tugged Marian across his lap. Once she was there, he wrapped the edges of his cloak around her, holding her close. She rested against him and waited for him to begin.
After a few moments of silence, in which he fruitlessly hoped she would relent, he told her everything. Well, almost everything; she did not need to know that he had been romancing two other women in the otherworld-- especially since one of them was the Locksley potter's daughter, Kate, whom Allan seemed to be starting to fancy. Marian might actually be somewhat curious to hear that the other was Gisborne's sister. He and Isabella had been playmates when they were small, but grew apart as they got a bit older. She clearly had not been with Guy when he returned to Nottinghamshire, and he had told everyone that he had no family, even if they knew better; Robin still was not certain what had happened to her, or why she had been in his mind.
There had been a part of the dream in which he fed Isabella of Gisborne strawberries so plump, they made him hungry to remember. He made a mental note to collect some real ones soon, for the amazing woman snuggled against him. Now, that would be a good use of a handful of strawberries and a warm afternoon...
"Robin?" Marian prompted.
"Hmm?"
"You stopped. That was not the end, was it?"
He blinked. "Oh. No. No, it was not." Clearing his throat and dragging his thoughts back to the matter at hand, he continued. Some of it sounded so ridiculous under the light of the moon; Bibles in English, lions in the forest, figures of the king crafted of wax realistically enough to fool everyone.
Some of it was understandable, in a dream sense. Several of the people wandering through the tale existed, such as Kate, the potter's daughter. And Marian's cousin Meg, whom he had not seen since they were teenagers (and who had thus been quite young in his mind's eye, although in actuality, she had a few years on himself). It was not too surprising that she had made an appearance, since Marian had recently told him about Meg's last visit to Knighton, whilst he was on Crusade. Apparently, the Lady Margaret had been fascinated by Guy of Gisborne, and could not understand her cousin's reticence in accepting his suit. Privately, Robin wondered if her influence had been behind Marian's inability to see Gisborne's wickedness, but did not dare suggest it; the two had been very close as girls.
The captain from the ship which had brought them back to England, a man who refused to give his name and answered only to "Archer," had been his half-brother in the dream, of all things. And not only his-- he had shared a mother with Gisborne. Robin remembered his father speaking well of Ghislaine of Gisborne, but never in a glowing enough sense to indicate a passion for her. No, Malcolm had died loving but one woman, Clorinda of Locksley, Robin's mother.
He could sympathize. Parts of the dream were not remotely ridiculous or understandable. Granted, the worst of it was obviously a combination of Marian's two brushes with death, the two times he nearly lost his heart. But, he could not speak that aloud. Superstitious, he was not, but there were some things even the most logical person would not gamble on. He could still feel his wife in his arms, her blood spilling out of her belly and drenching the sand around his knees, her body going lax as the last drop of life abandoned her. Without speaking of it, he trembled at the memory, unable to suppress the instinctive reaction to the images in his head.
Feeling the movement, Marian snuggled in closer, wrapping an arm around his neck and running her fingers through his hair. She meant for it to be a soothing gesture, but Robin read it differently, and he leaned down, capturing her lips with his own. He had calmed considerably since first awaking, but there was still an edge of desperation in his kiss, and she responded with a quiet desperation of her own.
The thing was, he was not the only one who had nightmares, who saw the death of his beloved, although her visions varied more than his did. Some drew from actual memory, from instances of guards aiming arrows at his heart, to seeing him ringed in by swords, or dangling over a pit filled with poisonous snakes. Others were more creative, though only rarely outside the realm of possibility. Strangely, the death they had nearly shared with the rest of the gang, all strung out to be cooked in the eastern sun, never came back to haunt her. It was always Robin, alone, breathing his last without her or anyone else to comfort him.
But, they were awake now and this was life, and there was a sweet combination of frenzy and celebration as they made love under the sympathetic branches of the yew tree.
Afterward, as she rested against him, Marian murmured, "Are you yet convinced of my well-being?"
He chuckled. "I think most of Nottingham is convinced of your well-being."
She made a disgusted noise and shoved him lightly, but could not resist laughing. He kissed her again, this one far more contented than earlier. "Truly, though, are you feeling better?" she pressed, her arm wrapped around him, her fingers playing with the curls at his nape.
He grinned and gave her a squeeze. "How could I not be?"
Her hand stilled. "Robin."
With a sigh, he sobered. "Vaguely. But, until the king returns and sets things right, you will be in danger. And while you're in danger, I cannot rest easily."
"You are in far more danger than I," she pointed out quietly.
Robin's first impulse was to shrug that off with a joke, but he knew she would be upset with him if he did. Reluctantly, he replied, "I know. But..."
"But what?"
He leaned his head back against the tree trunk. "Honestly? After being surrounded by countless highly-trained enemies on the battlefield, a few incompetent guards do not worry me much."
She had a chill at that thought, and had to push it away for the moment. Even as she wished he had not said it, she had to note that it was a step for him toward that openness she sought. "The guards have gotten the better of you on occasion. And you are not always up against them."
"Marian, this is my life. This is our life."
"You take too many risks," she said.
He frowned. "Most of them are for a reason."
"And others are for show."
Frustrated, he burst out, "What do you want me to say? That I'll stop? I cannot do that. Too many people depend on me to give it all up. And the rest of it... it's who I am."
Moving off of him, she demanded, "And what happens to all of those people who depend on you if you're killed?" What happens to me?
Robin bit his lip, staring at her. "You are not the first person to ask me that," he muttered.
"I am the first person to ask that who depends on you as your wife," she shot back. "To everyone else, you are a friend, a leader, a brother. Robin, I am your future. And you are mine. What happens when we have a child? I cannot tell your son that his father was shot down trying to best thirty armed guards because it amused him to challenge them."
Blue eyes flashed in the moonlight. "So, we are to have a son?"
Marian growled. "Perhaps. Someday. Now, stop ignoring my point."
He grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back across his lap. "I am not ignoring it. I merely have better things on my mind."
"You are intolerable," she informed him, but there was little heat in her words. He had started nibbling her neck, and what he was doing with his hands was making her irritation evaporate. For now. "Do not think you are getting out of it that easily," she muttered.
"I do not," he admitted, his words muffled by her skin. He did not know how she did it, being that she lived like the rest of them, but she still managed to smell like heaven. "But, how about a temporary truce, eh?"
She gasped. "Very well, a temporary one."
Whatever he tried to say to that turned into a wordless mumble, and then neither of them said much for awhile.
Later, as they ambled back toward camp, Robin's arm slung around Marian's shoulders and her arm around his waist, he said, "So, what shall we name this son of ours?"
She smiled up at him in the moonlight, and his heart flipped over. "I suppose you wish a son to be named for you."
He laughed. "That would be something. Might he be called 'Robin of Sherwood,' then, to differentiate between us?"
"Heaven forbid there would be two 'Robin Hoods,'" Marian teased.
He grinned down at her, and then looked up to the stars. "Edward."
She would have suggested it if they actually had a son, but it warmed her to hear him think of it now. "I would like that," she said softly. "Edward Malcolm."
"What, not 'Edward Robin'?" He let out a small "oomph" as she dug her elbow into his ribs.
"Our second son could be called Robin," she suggested.
"And what of our third, fourth and fifth sons?" he asked.
She let out an incredulous laugh. "How many sons are you hoping to have?"
"Oh, at least six," he declared grandly. "Not to mention an equal number of daughters."
Marian shook her head in amusement. The moment was so incredibly lighthearted, a rarity in their lives, and she loved both it and the man with whom she was sharing it. "What names would we give daughters?"
"That's easy. Chastity, Prudence--"
"Why not add 'Obedience' to the list?" she exclaimed, making him laugh.
"Not a bad idea."
"It is a terrible idea!" But his laughter was contagious.
"No," he said, humor still in his voice. "We shall name our first daughter after our mothers. Then, we will cite the behaviors they should follow."
"Agreed to the first. We will discuss the second, should the situation present itself."
He stopped walking, causing her to fumble a step; however, since their arms were still around one another, she did not trip. "Will you be happy when it does?"
She stared at him, momentarily speechless. "Why would I be otherwise?"
Robin did not make eye contact, staring beyond her at the forest floor, nearly invisible in the darkness. "You like to jump in with the ambushes..." He trailed off, not wanting to say the rest of what he was thinking.
But he did not have to. "And you would not want me to do that then." He winced slightly, and she realized he expected her to get angry with him, which irritated her. She pulled away from him and planted her hands on her hips. "How selfish do you think I am?"
From his expression, this was not the argument he had braced himself for. "I do not think you are selfish. Quite the opposite."
"Well, I would have to be, to throw myself into a fight if I was expecting. And clearly, you think I would want to do that."
"That is not what I meant."
"Really? Because it sounded that way to me."
He tried to count to ten in his head and got to four before replying, "I was trying not to tell you what to do, or order you around. I just wanted to make sure you would not feel trapped."
She blinked. "Trapped? If I was carrying your child? Robin, that's absurd." Throwing her hands into the air, she began moving back toward camp again.
"Marian, wait." He caught her arm as she passed, halting her. She turned to face him, and he said, "I do not want you to have any regrets."
At the earnestness on his face, she sighed. "I would not."
"You say that now, but are you sure? We might never get to live in a house again, and I already know Will and Djaq are worried about that--"
"We would figure something out. We will." Her voice had softened with her eyes, and she took his hand. "That is what I want. It is what I have wanted all along. For us to be together as a family, starting a family. I could never regret that."
He studied her doubtfully, but finally accepted that she meant it. "I'm glad." Sliding a hand around the back of her neck, he bent down and kissed her thoroughly. As he moved back, he added, "Believe it or not, it is all I ever wanted, either."
"Liar," she teased, her lips curving up. "You also wanted recognition and love."
He could not argue the point, although he tried to come up with a way of rewording it. Chuckling as he realized the futility of his efforts, he gave in. "All right, so maybe a little recognition is nice. But, mostly it comes down to doing what I can to take care of people who cannot do it themselves."
Marian understood that that was not an excuse, as she felt the same way. "And we will continue to do so, no matter where we end up living or how many children we have. And I will be helping in that when we have children, just not as actively before they are born."
She saw the mischievous grin that spread across his face. "Then, I will just have to see to it that--"
"Do not even say it," she threatened, but with a smile. She pulled him down for another kiss, and then said, "We should go get some sleep."
"Yes, we probably should," he agreed reluctantly. "Or, we could go back to the tree..."
She laughed. "Come on, Husband Dear. Back to camp with you."
"Where's the fun in that?" he argued teasingly.
"It might not be fun, but it is necessary, if you want me awake enough to visit the tree tomorrow."
With one more quick kiss, he acquiesced. "I suppose it's worth it, then."
Becoming suddenly serious, Marian said, "I do love you. You know that, right?"
Robin nodded. "Of course, I know that. And you do know that I love you, too?"
"I have never doubted it," she whispered.
He grinned. "Good. Now, let's go get some of that sleep you seem to want so much."
next chapter
*
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/characters: Robin/Marian, with mentions of others
Word count: 3389
Spoilers: While this alters the end of S2, there are still a few spoilers for the whole run of the show, including S3.
Summary: Robin's recurring nightmare leads to a midnight venture into Sherwood with Marian.
Disclaimer: Neither rights nor profits be mine.
previous chapter
-1-
Robin jerked awake, his heart pounding. Beside him, Marian stirred, disturbed by his movement.
Lifting her head from where it had been resting on his shoulder, she peered blearily down at him, a frown marring her brow. "What's wrong?" she asked in a voice still slurred by sleep. "Another nightmare?"
Not long ago, the question would have had an entirely different connotation for him, one of war; but, what it meant now was worse in many ways. The dream's images would not disperse, and the panic and desperation they wrought yet held him in their grip. "Tell me that you're safe," he demanded more harshly than he intended, grasping her shoulders with the fear that if he let go, she would fade like a memory. "Tell me that I stopped Gisborne from killing you."
His fingers were digging into her arms just short of being painful, but the terror in his eyes hurt her more. It was not the first time he had awoken so desperately, but this was the worst occasion yet. Masking her discomfort and concern since he clearly needed to be calmed, she smiled, gently placing a hand on his cheek. "I am safe, Robin. You stopped him from killing me."
He stared at her a moment longer, before suddenly relaxing back with a long, troubled sigh. Marian cuddled against him again, her fingers tracing a light pattern on his chest. "Do you want to tell me about it?"
"No." He hesitated, and then added, "But, you want me to."
It was an uphill battle, one Marian had been fighting since before she came to live in the forest for good. Robin was too quick to hide his feelings, burying them so deeply that they attacked him when his guard was down, like this. While she was also guilty of that sort of behavior, she had been making a concerted effort to open up to him more, and she was set on receiving that same consideration.
The one good thing that had come from their awful journey east was deciding to marry without waiting for everything to be resolved. They had already exchanged vows in front of their friends when they thought they would bake to death in the desert; and the terror on Robin's face in the instant before he knew whether or not he had halted Guy's sword in time was an image Marian could not erase, breaking her heart a little more every time her mind replayed it. So, when he had taken her aside that evening and quietly asked if she would consider having an official ceremony upon their return home, something to give them a better memory than what they had, she agreed immediately.
The king's admonition was merely a footnote after that. He had offered to perform their wedding before they left, but Robin turned him down, wanting to be married at Locksley. On one hand, Marian thought being married by the king was not an opportunity to pass up; however, Locksley Chapel was where Robin's family had married for the last few generations, and that meant more. Even though, in the end, the ceremony had been held in Sherwood, it had been too perfect a day to have cause for any regret.
However it had come to pass, the point was that she was his wife now, the ring firmly on her finger, and her husband was not going to keep important things to himself any longer, such as the dream that kept plaguing him. If it came to it, she would tie him to a tree and not free him until he related the entire tale; hopefully, though, she would be able to simply talk him into it. "Yes, I want you to tell me."
So far, they did not appear to have woken anyone else, but Robin wanted to ensure that the others not hear him recount some of the deep-seated fears that continued to disturb him. "Come for a walk with me," he murmured.
They rose in silence, donning cloaks against the cool air. The days were getting warmer, but the nights had not yet caught on to the idea. Quickly scanning the placid faces of the sleeping gang, Robin's eyes stopped briefly on Allan. His friend's betrayal still hurt, even despite the time that had passed since their reconciliation. He had come close to killing the man on more than one occasion; but seeing his friend die in the dream, a half-dozen arrows in his body, was nearly as bad as the recollections of their fights. Never, Robin vowed silently. I will never freely doubt your loyalty.
He then peered over at Carter, dozing silently in his bunk. The Crusader had had such a close call that Djaq was barely able to save him, and even now, six months later, his healed wound pained him. In the nightmare, everyone was so caught up in Marian's suffering that they had not even noticed the soldier's absence, leaving him to bleed out in that alley.
Marian touched his arm. "Are we going?" she asked quietly. Robin nodded, and hand-in-hand, they crept out of the camp and into the forest.
When they were far enough away that they would not be heard, Robin sank down beneath a large, elderly yew tree and tugged Marian across his lap. Once she was there, he wrapped the edges of his cloak around her, holding her close. She rested against him and waited for him to begin.
After a few moments of silence, in which he fruitlessly hoped she would relent, he told her everything. Well, almost everything; she did not need to know that he had been romancing two other women in the otherworld-- especially since one of them was the Locksley potter's daughter, Kate, whom Allan seemed to be starting to fancy. Marian might actually be somewhat curious to hear that the other was Gisborne's sister. He and Isabella had been playmates when they were small, but grew apart as they got a bit older. She clearly had not been with Guy when he returned to Nottinghamshire, and he had told everyone that he had no family, even if they knew better; Robin still was not certain what had happened to her, or why she had been in his mind.
There had been a part of the dream in which he fed Isabella of Gisborne strawberries so plump, they made him hungry to remember. He made a mental note to collect some real ones soon, for the amazing woman snuggled against him. Now, that would be a good use of a handful of strawberries and a warm afternoon...
"Robin?" Marian prompted.
"Hmm?"
"You stopped. That was not the end, was it?"
He blinked. "Oh. No. No, it was not." Clearing his throat and dragging his thoughts back to the matter at hand, he continued. Some of it sounded so ridiculous under the light of the moon; Bibles in English, lions in the forest, figures of the king crafted of wax realistically enough to fool everyone.
Some of it was understandable, in a dream sense. Several of the people wandering through the tale existed, such as Kate, the potter's daughter. And Marian's cousin Meg, whom he had not seen since they were teenagers (and who had thus been quite young in his mind's eye, although in actuality, she had a few years on himself). It was not too surprising that she had made an appearance, since Marian had recently told him about Meg's last visit to Knighton, whilst he was on Crusade. Apparently, the Lady Margaret had been fascinated by Guy of Gisborne, and could not understand her cousin's reticence in accepting his suit. Privately, Robin wondered if her influence had been behind Marian's inability to see Gisborne's wickedness, but did not dare suggest it; the two had been very close as girls.
The captain from the ship which had brought them back to England, a man who refused to give his name and answered only to "Archer," had been his half-brother in the dream, of all things. And not only his-- he had shared a mother with Gisborne. Robin remembered his father speaking well of Ghislaine of Gisborne, but never in a glowing enough sense to indicate a passion for her. No, Malcolm had died loving but one woman, Clorinda of Locksley, Robin's mother.
He could sympathize. Parts of the dream were not remotely ridiculous or understandable. Granted, the worst of it was obviously a combination of Marian's two brushes with death, the two times he nearly lost his heart. But, he could not speak that aloud. Superstitious, he was not, but there were some things even the most logical person would not gamble on. He could still feel his wife in his arms, her blood spilling out of her belly and drenching the sand around his knees, her body going lax as the last drop of life abandoned her. Without speaking of it, he trembled at the memory, unable to suppress the instinctive reaction to the images in his head.
Feeling the movement, Marian snuggled in closer, wrapping an arm around his neck and running her fingers through his hair. She meant for it to be a soothing gesture, but Robin read it differently, and he leaned down, capturing her lips with his own. He had calmed considerably since first awaking, but there was still an edge of desperation in his kiss, and she responded with a quiet desperation of her own.
The thing was, he was not the only one who had nightmares, who saw the death of his beloved, although her visions varied more than his did. Some drew from actual memory, from instances of guards aiming arrows at his heart, to seeing him ringed in by swords, or dangling over a pit filled with poisonous snakes. Others were more creative, though only rarely outside the realm of possibility. Strangely, the death they had nearly shared with the rest of the gang, all strung out to be cooked in the eastern sun, never came back to haunt her. It was always Robin, alone, breathing his last without her or anyone else to comfort him.
But, they were awake now and this was life, and there was a sweet combination of frenzy and celebration as they made love under the sympathetic branches of the yew tree.
Afterward, as she rested against him, Marian murmured, "Are you yet convinced of my well-being?"
He chuckled. "I think most of Nottingham is convinced of your well-being."
She made a disgusted noise and shoved him lightly, but could not resist laughing. He kissed her again, this one far more contented than earlier. "Truly, though, are you feeling better?" she pressed, her arm wrapped around him, her fingers playing with the curls at his nape.
He grinned and gave her a squeeze. "How could I not be?"
Her hand stilled. "Robin."
With a sigh, he sobered. "Vaguely. But, until the king returns and sets things right, you will be in danger. And while you're in danger, I cannot rest easily."
"You are in far more danger than I," she pointed out quietly.
Robin's first impulse was to shrug that off with a joke, but he knew she would be upset with him if he did. Reluctantly, he replied, "I know. But..."
"But what?"
He leaned his head back against the tree trunk. "Honestly? After being surrounded by countless highly-trained enemies on the battlefield, a few incompetent guards do not worry me much."
She had a chill at that thought, and had to push it away for the moment. Even as she wished he had not said it, she had to note that it was a step for him toward that openness she sought. "The guards have gotten the better of you on occasion. And you are not always up against them."
"Marian, this is my life. This is our life."
"You take too many risks," she said.
He frowned. "Most of them are for a reason."
"And others are for show."
Frustrated, he burst out, "What do you want me to say? That I'll stop? I cannot do that. Too many people depend on me to give it all up. And the rest of it... it's who I am."
Moving off of him, she demanded, "And what happens to all of those people who depend on you if you're killed?" What happens to me?
Robin bit his lip, staring at her. "You are not the first person to ask me that," he muttered.
"I am the first person to ask that who depends on you as your wife," she shot back. "To everyone else, you are a friend, a leader, a brother. Robin, I am your future. And you are mine. What happens when we have a child? I cannot tell your son that his father was shot down trying to best thirty armed guards because it amused him to challenge them."
Blue eyes flashed in the moonlight. "So, we are to have a son?"
Marian growled. "Perhaps. Someday. Now, stop ignoring my point."
He grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back across his lap. "I am not ignoring it. I merely have better things on my mind."
"You are intolerable," she informed him, but there was little heat in her words. He had started nibbling her neck, and what he was doing with his hands was making her irritation evaporate. For now. "Do not think you are getting out of it that easily," she muttered.
"I do not," he admitted, his words muffled by her skin. He did not know how she did it, being that she lived like the rest of them, but she still managed to smell like heaven. "But, how about a temporary truce, eh?"
She gasped. "Very well, a temporary one."
Whatever he tried to say to that turned into a wordless mumble, and then neither of them said much for awhile.
Later, as they ambled back toward camp, Robin's arm slung around Marian's shoulders and her arm around his waist, he said, "So, what shall we name this son of ours?"
She smiled up at him in the moonlight, and his heart flipped over. "I suppose you wish a son to be named for you."
He laughed. "That would be something. Might he be called 'Robin of Sherwood,' then, to differentiate between us?"
"Heaven forbid there would be two 'Robin Hoods,'" Marian teased.
He grinned down at her, and then looked up to the stars. "Edward."
She would have suggested it if they actually had a son, but it warmed her to hear him think of it now. "I would like that," she said softly. "Edward Malcolm."
"What, not 'Edward Robin'?" He let out a small "oomph" as she dug her elbow into his ribs.
"Our second son could be called Robin," she suggested.
"And what of our third, fourth and fifth sons?" he asked.
She let out an incredulous laugh. "How many sons are you hoping to have?"
"Oh, at least six," he declared grandly. "Not to mention an equal number of daughters."
Marian shook her head in amusement. The moment was so incredibly lighthearted, a rarity in their lives, and she loved both it and the man with whom she was sharing it. "What names would we give daughters?"
"That's easy. Chastity, Prudence--"
"Why not add 'Obedience' to the list?" she exclaimed, making him laugh.
"Not a bad idea."
"It is a terrible idea!" But his laughter was contagious.
"No," he said, humor still in his voice. "We shall name our first daughter after our mothers. Then, we will cite the behaviors they should follow."
"Agreed to the first. We will discuss the second, should the situation present itself."
He stopped walking, causing her to fumble a step; however, since their arms were still around one another, she did not trip. "Will you be happy when it does?"
She stared at him, momentarily speechless. "Why would I be otherwise?"
Robin did not make eye contact, staring beyond her at the forest floor, nearly invisible in the darkness. "You like to jump in with the ambushes..." He trailed off, not wanting to say the rest of what he was thinking.
But he did not have to. "And you would not want me to do that then." He winced slightly, and she realized he expected her to get angry with him, which irritated her. She pulled away from him and planted her hands on her hips. "How selfish do you think I am?"
From his expression, this was not the argument he had braced himself for. "I do not think you are selfish. Quite the opposite."
"Well, I would have to be, to throw myself into a fight if I was expecting. And clearly, you think I would want to do that."
"That is not what I meant."
"Really? Because it sounded that way to me."
He tried to count to ten in his head and got to four before replying, "I was trying not to tell you what to do, or order you around. I just wanted to make sure you would not feel trapped."
She blinked. "Trapped? If I was carrying your child? Robin, that's absurd." Throwing her hands into the air, she began moving back toward camp again.
"Marian, wait." He caught her arm as she passed, halting her. She turned to face him, and he said, "I do not want you to have any regrets."
At the earnestness on his face, she sighed. "I would not."
"You say that now, but are you sure? We might never get to live in a house again, and I already know Will and Djaq are worried about that--"
"We would figure something out. We will." Her voice had softened with her eyes, and she took his hand. "That is what I want. It is what I have wanted all along. For us to be together as a family, starting a family. I could never regret that."
He studied her doubtfully, but finally accepted that she meant it. "I'm glad." Sliding a hand around the back of her neck, he bent down and kissed her thoroughly. As he moved back, he added, "Believe it or not, it is all I ever wanted, either."
"Liar," she teased, her lips curving up. "You also wanted recognition and love."
He could not argue the point, although he tried to come up with a way of rewording it. Chuckling as he realized the futility of his efforts, he gave in. "All right, so maybe a little recognition is nice. But, mostly it comes down to doing what I can to take care of people who cannot do it themselves."
Marian understood that that was not an excuse, as she felt the same way. "And we will continue to do so, no matter where we end up living or how many children we have. And I will be helping in that when we have children, just not as actively before they are born."
She saw the mischievous grin that spread across his face. "Then, I will just have to see to it that--"
"Do not even say it," she threatened, but with a smile. She pulled him down for another kiss, and then said, "We should go get some sleep."
"Yes, we probably should," he agreed reluctantly. "Or, we could go back to the tree..."
She laughed. "Come on, Husband Dear. Back to camp with you."
"Where's the fun in that?" he argued teasingly.
"It might not be fun, but it is necessary, if you want me awake enough to visit the tree tomorrow."
With one more quick kiss, he acquiesced. "I suppose it's worth it, then."
Becoming suddenly serious, Marian said, "I do love you. You know that, right?"
Robin nodded. "Of course, I know that. And you do know that I love you, too?"
"I have never doubted it," she whispered.
He grinned. "Good. Now, let's go get some of that sleep you seem to want so much."
next chapter
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