New Story: Burning Bright (Robin/Marian) - Complete
Title: burning bright
Author: Hana thedreamygirl
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue!
Rating: G
Word Count: 622
Summary: They each have their own secrets.
Author's Note: Thank you to sophieisgod for the beta! :D This was written for missalee in the saythewordsthen ficathon. She requested "an explanation of the ring Robin gave Marian".
He thinks the first time they met was five years ago.
He remembers a crowded market place on a snowy day, and an accidental encounter in front of the man selling weaponry; Robin openly admiring the craftsmanship, Marian with her hood pulled far over her head to hide her face - a girl her age was not supposed to be interested in swords and bows, especially not the daughter of the Sheriff - until Much bumped into her and the hood fell down.
Robin tells her that it was love at first sight; that he knew from the moment he laid eyes on her that they were a perfect match and would spend their lives together. It is the kind of romantic poetry he likes to recite during times like this when they are alone in the forest together. But Marian remembers the amused smirk that greeted her surprised face, mere seconds before he winked at the tavern girl who walked past and laughs. She reminds him he was barely fifteen then, and she even younger.
And Marian remembers another night in Sherwood Forest; not unlike this one, many many years ago when a little boy without a father ran away from home and a little girl without a mother found him there.
She does not question herself as to why she never reminds him of that. They each have their own secrets, and though this could be theirs she prefers it to be her own; pure and untainted by another's memory of it, not even her beloved's. She can still see the boy in him - anyone could, it is there whenever he grins and in the green stains that never come out of his clothes - but he has grown into a man who searches for glory and something she can't quite name yet and doesn't understand.
He has asked to meet her tonight, she discovers, to give her a ring. With its dull green stone and deep setting it is not at all a kind she would have picked out for herself, but it is from Robin and when he tells her it belonged to his mother as he slips it onto her finger she thinks to herself that she will never take it off. He presses a chaste kiss against her knuckles, then one against her lips and then he is gone; running through the forest as quick as his nimble feet can carry him. But she is fast on his heels, raising her skirts, laughing as she runs.
She knows this is the Robin she met all those moons ago even though she does not even remember what was spoken. Instead of words, engrained in her memory are gestures; a smile; a longing that has only grown over time; the stars that they watched together and that watched them back on their way home. The kinds of things she sees in him when he shoots an arrow on lazy afternoons, but hardly at night.
The chase doesn't last very long. When she catches up with him he tells her, as he always does, that he purposely ran slowly so she didn't trip over something and hurt herself - after all, it is quite dark. Sometimes she sticks her tongue out at him in reply; tonight she takes his hand and pulls him to sit down with her as they catch their breath.
The light from the sky shines through the leaves and hits the ring Marian will later press back into his palm with shaking hands when he tells her he is leaving to fight in the Holy War. For now she remembers a little boy who liked to look at the stars, and holds him tighter.
Author: Hana thedreamygirl
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue!
Rating: G
Word Count: 622
Summary: They each have their own secrets.
Author's Note: Thank you to sophieisgod for the beta! :D This was written for missalee in the saythewordsthen ficathon. She requested "an explanation of the ring Robin gave Marian".
He thinks the first time they met was five years ago.
He remembers a crowded market place on a snowy day, and an accidental encounter in front of the man selling weaponry; Robin openly admiring the craftsmanship, Marian with her hood pulled far over her head to hide her face - a girl her age was not supposed to be interested in swords and bows, especially not the daughter of the Sheriff - until Much bumped into her and the hood fell down.
Robin tells her that it was love at first sight; that he knew from the moment he laid eyes on her that they were a perfect match and would spend their lives together. It is the kind of romantic poetry he likes to recite during times like this when they are alone in the forest together. But Marian remembers the amused smirk that greeted her surprised face, mere seconds before he winked at the tavern girl who walked past and laughs. She reminds him he was barely fifteen then, and she even younger.
And Marian remembers another night in Sherwood Forest; not unlike this one, many many years ago when a little boy without a father ran away from home and a little girl without a mother found him there.
She does not question herself as to why she never reminds him of that. They each have their own secrets, and though this could be theirs she prefers it to be her own; pure and untainted by another's memory of it, not even her beloved's. She can still see the boy in him - anyone could, it is there whenever he grins and in the green stains that never come out of his clothes - but he has grown into a man who searches for glory and something she can't quite name yet and doesn't understand.
He has asked to meet her tonight, she discovers, to give her a ring. With its dull green stone and deep setting it is not at all a kind she would have picked out for herself, but it is from Robin and when he tells her it belonged to his mother as he slips it onto her finger she thinks to herself that she will never take it off. He presses a chaste kiss against her knuckles, then one against her lips and then he is gone; running through the forest as quick as his nimble feet can carry him. But she is fast on his heels, raising her skirts, laughing as she runs.
She knows this is the Robin she met all those moons ago even though she does not even remember what was spoken. Instead of words, engrained in her memory are gestures; a smile; a longing that has only grown over time; the stars that they watched together and that watched them back on their way home. The kinds of things she sees in him when he shoots an arrow on lazy afternoons, but hardly at night.
The chase doesn't last very long. When she catches up with him he tells her, as he always does, that he purposely ran slowly so she didn't trip over something and hurt herself - after all, it is quite dark. Sometimes she sticks her tongue out at him in reply; tonight she takes his hand and pulls him to sit down with her as they catch their breath.
The light from the sky shines through the leaves and hits the ring Marian will later press back into his palm with shaking hands when he tells her he is leaving to fight in the Holy War. For now she remembers a little boy who liked to look at the stars, and holds him tighter.