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Dec. 13th, 2007 03:53 amMarian hadn't meant to spend the evening outside.
Especially not without a cloak, while the snow was still intermittently falling.
But she couldn't bring herself to join the people inside every time the subject roused in her mind.
For the first hour she thought about her fiancé more than necessary. Enough that it was probably healthy. Everytime she thought she had him figured out he went and did something she couldn't predict.
He took care of her during her amnesia and made claims about wanting to better himself, to be worthy of her. He took her on long rides to hand out small revelations such as that her engagement ring had been his mothers. He made slow, painstaking attempts at conversations. When he was drunk he could be civil to the point of sweetness; and exaggeration.
All of this confusion ended when they were back home.
Then he went back to being a bastard. To harassing the people. To letting the Sheriff whisper sweet insanities in his ear. To cutting out tongues or cutting off hands or drowning people or wounding them or hanging them. To playing power games. To forcing her into his company. To try to kill the very few people she had left that were dear.
To killing his best friend.
Making her horrified for her future, causing her to feel every inch of the deal which was still the only line saving her life and her fathers.
The second hour of brooding did not progress positively.
She considered the confessions to Tom and Amy, to Merlin. The even further extended confessions of those who realized she was engaged to Sir guy. This category which also included, one Robin Hood, not hers, and a handful of people who knew her story enough to look properly horrified when she would blankly point out the ring on her finger was not Robin's.
The number of people who were quite willing to kill Sir Guy for her seemed to grow each month.
Even when she didn't consent to this idea, she did ponder what the Sherriff would think. He'd never known Guy had been visiting the end of the world through random doorways. What would he do or think if his right hand man suddenly vanished without a trace?
All of the advice was not deleterious.
Tom's had been confusing, worse than pity. It had spun a web of thoughts, of chance, and confusion in her mind. The idea that Sir Guy of Gisborne, and Locksley, had not known enough love in his life was preposterous thing. If it was so, even, why was that her problem to deal with?
She had not appointed herself his savior.
She had simply wanted not to die.
Was that so wrong?
The third hour and fourth hour struck upon a problem which has harder to address.
There was a general assortment of people who knew her well enough to know she was engaged, without knowing her well enough to really know anything. They were dear. They talked. They laughed. But they didn't know. Not really.
Those who caught a glimmer of understanding in her engagement situation sufficed with the pity.
Those who caught a glimmer of her confusion railed at her in anger, or betrayal.
But pity was the largest reaction.
Pity and awkwardness, like Kate and Will had both shown when he brought it up tonight.
She had to be strong. She told herself that endlessly. This would end. She would not marry Guy. She would not let that happen.Robin would not let that happen. The confusion and the utter loneliness of the situation, turning onward day by day for months did not help the situation any.
Most of all she told herself she had to keep it to herself; because they all didn't understand. But she wasn't sure that mattered as much.
Who would she have confided in if she wanted to anyway?
Who was the last--
Of course; Caspian.
The one person she'd explained Guy to and gone out of her way to actually say she loved another; to infer her damnable feelings for Robin still five and half years later. He'd understood. Had spoken of his first wife and his love for Lucy. He'd understood her passing moments of joy and terror. And then he'd gone away. Left her to face this madness, alone. To his Heaven. She told herself she didn't begrudge him his heaven because he deserved his peace.
(She did anyway.)
There had been Merlin, too.
But that was complicated-- with emotions and changes. How she missed him/her.
Before that? Who had been the last before that? Or even how many years?
She had no dear confidable friends in her home. Once upon a time, growing up, when the world was still fair and the just was still right she remembered having friends. Friends who'd all extricated themselves from her presence, with eyes full of remorse and shame and fear, as Vaysey's noose of power snared them all.
She'd spent too many years being okay with being alone.
It was its own shield, and blanket.
Yet it still left her walking outside at night in the cold; lonely and longing.
And Robin.
It was always there. Even unsaid.
In half whispered words, clinking small prayer beads from her pocket, and the puff of white breath. In the sound of her bow was she knocked the arrow to aim and listening to it whisper past her in release. In the way her dagger flew from her fingers, sending shattering ice all over the ground, as it embedded itself in the wood.
The laughing boy with green eyes, who took every chance he could to infuriate and humiliate her with her situation. Who seemed to build up his wounded pride off needing to make her see how stupid her situation was every time she saw him.
It had been too long since she last saw him, too.
Everyday, even in Milliways, someone harkened back to home. Someone knew the legends. Someone could define her by Robin Hood. Only Miniver, of all those hundreds of people, had seen her for her first when it came to making the connection. The Marian. Everyone else seemed to jump up and down about knowing Robin Hood's legend.
Robin of Locksley was no legend to her. He her a demon.
He was her heart beat.
He gave her hope and faith in the future for their people. At the same time, his every look sentenced her to years of terror and degradation if she couldn't free herself. If she wouldn't run away to the forest right then. (If she wouldn't sacrifice her father.)
She still might have cried for joy if Robin had walked from the Bar or the wood right then, but he never did. He hadn't come here for months. The door had come less and less for everyone from their land save her and Guy. She was more often now marooned on this forsaken, world ending place, with her sometimes sweet, sometimes psychotic fiancé.
Most days she thanked her stars for being so lucky to find a h(e)aven like Milliways.
Tonight she cursed it for being a cold, blistering hellish cell.
Especially not without a cloak, while the snow was still intermittently falling.
But she couldn't bring herself to join the people inside every time the subject roused in her mind.
For the first hour she thought about her fiancé more than necessary. Enough that it was probably healthy. Everytime she thought she had him figured out he went and did something she couldn't predict.
He took care of her during her amnesia and made claims about wanting to better himself, to be worthy of her. He took her on long rides to hand out small revelations such as that her engagement ring had been his mothers. He made slow, painstaking attempts at conversations. When he was drunk he could be civil to the point of sweetness; and exaggeration.
All of this confusion ended when they were back home.
Then he went back to being a bastard. To harassing the people. To letting the Sheriff whisper sweet insanities in his ear. To cutting out tongues or cutting off hands or drowning people or wounding them or hanging them. To playing power games. To forcing her into his company. To try to kill the very few people she had left that were dear.
To killing his best friend.
Making her horrified for her future, causing her to feel every inch of the deal which was still the only line saving her life and her fathers.
The second hour of brooding did not progress positively.
She considered the confessions to Tom and Amy, to Merlin. The even further extended confessions of those who realized she was engaged to Sir guy. This category which also included, one Robin Hood, not hers, and a handful of people who knew her story enough to look properly horrified when she would blankly point out the ring on her finger was not Robin's.
The number of people who were quite willing to kill Sir Guy for her seemed to grow each month.
Even when she didn't consent to this idea, she did ponder what the Sherriff would think. He'd never known Guy had been visiting the end of the world through random doorways. What would he do or think if his right hand man suddenly vanished without a trace?
All of the advice was not deleterious.
Tom's had been confusing, worse than pity. It had spun a web of thoughts, of chance, and confusion in her mind. The idea that Sir Guy of Gisborne, and Locksley, had not known enough love in his life was preposterous thing. If it was so, even, why was that her problem to deal with?
She had not appointed herself his savior.
She had simply wanted not to die.
Was that so wrong?
The third hour and fourth hour struck upon a problem which has harder to address.
There was a general assortment of people who knew her well enough to know she was engaged, without knowing her well enough to really know anything. They were dear. They talked. They laughed. But they didn't know. Not really.
Those who caught a glimmer of understanding in her engagement situation sufficed with the pity.
Those who caught a glimmer of her confusion railed at her in anger, or betrayal.
But pity was the largest reaction.
Pity and awkwardness, like Kate and Will had both shown when he brought it up tonight.
She had to be strong. She told herself that endlessly. This would end. She would not marry Guy. She would not let that happen.
Most of all she told herself she had to keep it to herself; because they all didn't understand. But she wasn't sure that mattered as much.
Who would she have confided in if she wanted to anyway?
Who was the last--
Of course; Caspian.
The one person she'd explained Guy to and gone out of her way to actually say she loved another; to infer her damnable feelings for Robin still five and half years later. He'd understood. Had spoken of his first wife and his love for Lucy. He'd understood her passing moments of joy and terror. And then he'd gone away. Left her to face this madness, alone. To his Heaven. She told herself she didn't begrudge him his heaven because he deserved his peace.
(She did anyway.)
There had been Merlin, too.
But that was complicated-- with emotions and changes. How she missed him/her.
Before that? Who had been the last before that? Or even how many years?
She had no dear confidable friends in her home. Once upon a time, growing up, when the world was still fair and the just was still right she remembered having friends. Friends who'd all extricated themselves from her presence, with eyes full of remorse and shame and fear, as Vaysey's noose of power snared them all.
She'd spent too many years being okay with being alone.
It was its own shield, and blanket.
Yet it still left her walking outside at night in the cold; lonely and longing.
And Robin.
It was always there. Even unsaid.
In half whispered words, clinking small prayer beads from her pocket, and the puff of white breath. In the sound of her bow was she knocked the arrow to aim and listening to it whisper past her in release. In the way her dagger flew from her fingers, sending shattering ice all over the ground, as it embedded itself in the wood.
The laughing boy with green eyes, who took every chance he could to infuriate and humiliate her with her situation. Who seemed to build up his wounded pride off needing to make her see how stupid her situation was every time she saw him.
It had been too long since she last saw him, too.
Everyday, even in Milliways, someone harkened back to home. Someone knew the legends. Someone could define her by Robin Hood. Only Miniver, of all those hundreds of people, had seen her for her first when it came to making the connection. The Marian. Everyone else seemed to jump up and down about knowing Robin Hood's legend.
Robin of Locksley was no legend to her. He her a demon.
He was her heart beat.
He gave her hope and faith in the future for their people. At the same time, his every look sentenced her to years of terror and degradation if she couldn't free herself. If she wouldn't run away to the forest right then. (If she wouldn't sacrifice her father.)
She still might have cried for joy if Robin had walked from the Bar or the wood right then, but he never did. He hadn't come here for months. The door had come less and less for everyone from their land save her and Guy. She was more often now marooned on this forsaken, world ending place, with her sometimes sweet, sometimes psychotic fiancé.
Most days she thanked her stars for being so lucky to find a h(e)aven like Milliways.
Tonight she cursed it for being a cold, blistering hellish cell.