Sherwood Adventures -- Part I (of II or III)

[queenofmay]

Marian leaned against one of the paddock fences, watching him finish up afternoon work she still hasn't sure he actually had to do, studying the horizon. "It is rather impossible to miss how beautiful this place is, when the sky isn't red."

It seemed so long ago, trying to remember when it was all foreign. Back before looking at all of it filled part of her heart with fondness and deep recognition. Back when, she was all too aware, they had first met and parted.

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[the_seafarer]

Really, it's difficult to say what, precisely, Much is planning to do if this Allan is spending the day in a tavern, but Caspian can guess the meaning well enough.

"Perhaps we might help," he suggests, looking over to Marian, eyebrows lifting in an unasked question. "If it's simply a matter of delivery."

It's due to the faint hint of impatience he can hear in Marian's voice, can see in the way she looks about the camp, as if willing, stubbornly, the other men to appear. "And that way no one will have to go back out."

[queenofmay]

She might as well will them all to appear. Even if it's really only the one. But it would have to be all of them, to be the one. Because unless pressed to it, and she's sure Much agreed, with that glance about someone going back, it would be Robin.

Who wanted to see the people. Sometimes as much as to be seen. But he wouldn't tell them to wait until morning if it was specifically this day. Or send others unless they insisted. It was, simply, Robin.

She can't fault him. She'd make the same choice. Different reasons. But the same choice.

And still she'd wanted...hoped.



Marian looked over as Caspian offered. She wouldn't have foisted it on him, given the circumstances. But she tipped her head. Not disagreeing. Her gaze, more grey than blue at the moment, shifting from Caspian to Much, as her eyebrows raised, in question of the offer.

[merry_men]

Much still looked to Marian, even when Caspian was the one to offer. No one would have made her. As though anyone could make Marian do anything. But she hadn't said no. Which.

"That would be marvelous." Back and forth between the two of them, his weight shifting between his feet, the spoon being wobbled in the air pointed about. "It would mean no one would have to go out. And the lads would be returned. And the soup would be ready."

He corrected, leaning in congenially, "There is not a lot of it, but there is enough. And, if you wanted, then, you could come back."

[the_seafarer]

"Well, if there's soup, by all means, let us be on our way," Caspian says, cheerfully. There seems to be something else going on here, but he's the outsider and it isn't really any of his business. "It's no trouble at all."

He looks towards Much, and inclines his head in a casual sort of bow, offering the other man a companionable grin. "I thank you for your kind offer of hospitality, Master Much. And your soup smells lovely."

[queenofmay]

Marian didn't frown, even though it was likely going to be impossible to return tonight. She couldn't be gone the entire day. The idea of what terrible thing the Sheriff might do next when he discovered her gone

What he might do to her father, even now.

Which made it worse when Caspian perked right up at it.


Marian kept it all from her face, walking toward the bundles on the bed. Beginning to count them, and pull back pieces of cloth, looking for what might need to be carried more carefully.

"Where was Allan bound for?"

[merry_men]

Oh, yes. He could like this Caspian fellow. Soup and offers to help and a warm smile and proper names. Maybe he'd show the others how they should behave while eating. A shining example.

Much was standing far taller for the title and compliments to what he'd managed out here, with nearly nothing, didn't you know, nearly beaming, when Marian's question cut through. "Nettlestone. There's a baker there, George, who distributes everything."

[the_seafarer]

Much, at least, seems to have perked up at the offer, though Marian seems ... preoccupied.

He can't blame her. If he'd found himself back in Narnia with her, with the opportunity to introduce her to his friends, his family, he, too, would be feeling a little let down at the absence of those same people.

(Or perhaps the absence of just the one.)

"Fine," he says, joining Marian to inspect the parcels. "Not far, I hope."

[queenofmay]

"The opposite direction," Marian said, but not harshly or happily. Simply informing. Maybe even faintly with an undertone of irony. Like it was one of the only ways it could happen.

If they were going to help. They would have to go in the opposite direction. Of where both of them needed to be getting to.

She looked over, picking up some of the parcels and stacking them into her arms. Adding, for his benefit, as she prayed it wasn't a lie, "It will be fine."

[the_seafarer]

If there's one thing Caspian has learned on long marches and campaigns, it's that things rarely, if ever, go to plan, particularly when there is such a powerful, fickle entity as Milliways involved, so he merely lifts his shoulders in the kind of shrug his tutor spent years trying to break him of.

So he simply says "No doubt," easily, and begins taking parcels, before glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Though I would not inconvenience you in any way. You must be glad to be home."

[queenofmay]

She was not in Nottingham, where he father sat in a cell, but in Sherwood, where Robin wasn't, with Caspian, who might be stuck -- but she must be glad to be home.

"You did say to show you my world," Marian spoke quietly, pulling from somewhere in her depth, a small, but pleasant smile. "You'll see more of both it, and what I do when I'm not in Nottingham, now."

She looked back to Much, asking, "Is this everything?"

[merry_men]

"Yes." He'd started, from watching them talking. Looking at the now empty bed and laden two of them.

"Yes, that is everything. Thank you, again. I'm sure the others will thank you, as well. Allan, at least, Allan should be made to. If I had it my way, he would not be getting any supper for it."

[the_seafarer]

He studies her for a moment, the little smile that seems like it's tugged from somewhere safe to use at times like this, but her eyes seem light enough and her voice is even as ever -- not that those things always mean much, with Marian. She is far more practiced at using her own face as a mask than anyone he's ever known.

Still, he can see nothing to dislike about the plan: it gives them a chance to be useful in a way he rarely is in Milliways, gives her a chance to see to the things she might need to take care of here.

(Who knows how long this visit might last, after all?)

"Let's not be so harsh," he advises Much, with an amused, crooked smile. "No harm done." To Marian: "Shall we be off, then?"

[queenofmay]

Marian inclined her head, with a glance back at Much. Not so much a dismissal as her mouth tightened very slightly, and she nodded. They did what they could, and what they had to.

"The sooner they can have all of it the better."

[merry_men]

They were going to walk off, when it struck him. "Marian!"

Her name had come out loud and sudden, and he shifted awkwardly when she looked back. "Ah, is there, anything, I should tell Robin? About your visit?"

Or, his eyes going to Caspian there. Her friend.

You know. Since they'd be coming back.

And not all the lads knew.

[queenofmay]

She had turned back when her name was called. More because of the note of panic than anything else. Even as she raised her eyebrows, because he was still standing there, soup spoon in hand, staring at her, anxiously.





Until he got to the question.

The corners of her mouth almost creasing toward a frown. But never getting there fully. She'd stopped that, keeping her back straight and her shoulders firm, as she shook her head without letting the weight of the want the question birth come to the forefront of her thoughts or heart.

"No, it's fine. I'll see him soon enough." Light. Smiling.


The soon enough that was never soon enough. And the one that, even though her words might have implied the opposite, would never be tonight. Even if Caspian could, even might. But Vaisey would not stop trying the people, and so soon enough would still be Robin in Nottingham sooner rather than later.

And that, would simply, have to be enough.




Robin would not question why she couldn't come back.
He'd get it. He knew why and where she'd be then.
He knew all of it. And she didn't want to ask.


If Much knew already. If Robin had spoken.





"We should go. The ride is long to Nettlstone."

She said it to both of them really, and this time there was the note of finality to it. To walking away from the things she could not have, and not brooking with the want or the sadness that brought.

[the_seafarer]

It's not a long walk to where they left the horses tied up, but it's a quiet one: Marian seems deep in thought and Caspian is just as happy to keep his own to himself after meeting Much. In a way -- in many ways, really -- he had reminded Caspian of some of his own companions from long marches: loyal, fidgety. Mayhap not a soldier, but one who knows how to fight and what to look for that might be a threat.

And there'd been the way he kept looking to Marian, as if waiting for her to say or do something she hadn't done or said.

Kiseki and the unnamed stallion are still standing quietly, nibbling on a few thin blades of grass. The gelding doesn't even bother lifting his head as Caspian begins loading the parcels, slinging them to either side to balance the weight.

"I'm sorry we missed your friends," he offers, after a moment. "I should very much have liked to meet Robin."

[queenofmay]

It's a little sore, but he is not Much. The lightness there, almost delicate, in words that are not an apology, but still sympathetic.

She glanced at him, very barely, from the side of her eyes while walking. "I'm quite certain he'd have rather liked to meet you. To know that you were still alive, and suddenly returned."

[the_seafarer]

"Perhaps," he says, smiling slightly. "I think he'd care far more that you were returned here than that a man he's never met has come back to a place he's only barely seen."

Strapping the parcels in place, he goes to Kiseki's head to untie him.

"In the meantime, perhaps he will just appreciate our doing him a good turn."

[queenofmay]

"I think it would be very much, both. But he probably didn't realize I was gone," Marian said, a little more blatantly honest in saying than feeling. "Time stops here while I'm gone frequently, for months at a time, and he hasn't seen Milliways since a while after you left."


Marian glanced at him, the lightness touching her eyes finally, as she was finishing placing her own parcels. "If you haven't noticed, Sherwood is missing a derth of helpful Doors to change that."

[the_seafarer]

As a matter of fact, he had noticed that, and before Much had said anything. It was in the way neither of them had mentioned a way back, nor said anything about how long this surprise visit might be, but when he swings up into the saddle, he finds a smile for her, wry though it might be.

"I have faith," he says, simply. "Aslan has paths through many worlds. I cannot think he has led me here without giving a way back. And mayhap we were meant to take this task, or some other."

Milliways sometimes has a way of deciding others' fates for them, without request.

[queenofmay]

Marian hadn't been referencing his own need for it, only Robin's own obvious inability to get to them here, and, thus, she stiffened a little when she realized he was.

Leading them away toward the way they'd came from, toward the rise, she did decide to say at least one of the many things she'd thought I about. "I do think you should consider coming back, later tonight. You could still meet them all."

And it might be far safer than sneaking him in and hiding him in Nottingham. It would be hard enough explaining her own absence, were it noted. It might not be. There were whole days people left her alone, as though forgotten and not existing.

But she'd been very specific again. You and not we this time.

[the_seafarer]

"Perhaps," he says, neutral.

It's unlikely. Robin and his men, though interesting to him, are not Caspian's friends and they would probably not be likely to enjoy having a stranger in their midst if they are all as wary of new faces as Much is. And without Marian there -- well, surely, she must be needed elsewhere. This is her world, with her responsibilities and tasks, and if she cannot go back to the outlaw camp, then logic says she feels she must be somewhere else.

He's the one who's out of place, here: he cannot expect to tag along with Marian wherever she goes, and yet he's wary of heading off by himself. He doesn't know this land or this world, and though he has his sword, he knows better than others what might befall a stranger in a new world.

"You have other tasks tonight?"

[queenofmay]

"It is as you said," Marian didn't deny. "I am home. It brings with it certain, other, obligations." Though her heart twisted at the word chosen, waring with her.

A life was on the line. But there were always lives on the line, no matter which way she turned here. And did she have any right to say that this one was any more important than that one. Even if it was hers.

Even as she was putting it off for others, still.


But it was still early, if mid-afternoon, and "We don't have to decide now," Marian said, leading them back through the small hills. "There's still time for all of this, first." Because she would make time for it. For them. And for him.

She gave him another glance, "Would you prefer the forest or the road?"

[the_seafarer]

"There never is a shortage of those."

Obligations, duty, the need to take responsibility: these are things he and Marian have talked over many times. He knows she has things here that must be done, people who must be taken care of.

It's part of the reason why they are such good friends. Those responsibilities -- obligations -- are something they both know well.

At her question, though, he leans forward in the saddle, considering, mouth making a thoughtful line. "Oh, the forest, I should think. Unless there's anything terribly interesting on the road or it's much faster."

[queenofmay]

"It is more direct," she admitted, easily. "But-" And this brought the haze of a smile back to her lips. "Not nearly as beautiful."

Or fun. Which her expression seemed to imply.


She turned the stallion toward the right direction, heading through the trees, at a canter now. Bound and determined at least to love this, for so long as she might have it within her fingers.