Sherwood Shenanigans, Part III of III

[queenofmay]

It takes all her will power not to run. Every faintly quickened, but not running, step toward her room. Which she knows anyone she passes will take as her running away from the Sheriff's hands. When it is far more directed in running to.

To the door of her room, which she locked without slamming. To the pile of clothes hidden under her mattress, the candles not even lit. To her Night Watchman costume, which goes on, as the dress gets thrown on the bed. It could be dealt with later. Coiling her hair quickly, as her mask dangled from a strap between her pressed lips. Her hair might end up far more knotted, but that could be dealt with later, too.


Then Marian was back at her door, beginning to push the mask up past her chin, as she looked down the dark hallway to the left.

Comments

[queenofmay]

Marian nodded. She was. Soft, demur, and the horse she hadn't wanted when she was young. Not once an inch like Sorely. A Lady's horse, and yet she'd grown to loved her so. Marian simply nodded, and leaning her face against the horse for another second before steeling herself.

She had to step away, keep doing things, getting them, him, away. But if she had to pick one thing to have saved that night, one thing beyond her father, one thing just for herself. Marian reached up and stroked fingers down the pure white broad space of the wide forehead, long nose.

Beautiful was not even enough of a word for her.

"I'll be back for you," she promised. The softest, fierce whisper.

She stepped back, settling her shoulders. It's almost as though she has to regroup something. She does not have skirts to settle as though the last two minutes were a fluke.

"We have to get you out of here," this time to him. A reminder, an apology.

[the_seafarer]

He feels, for a moment, like an intruder, stumbling onto this moment he ought not to have witnessed: it's something private, something just for her, a precious friend returned.

(There are so few things Marian has had for herself -- she gives all to the people she loves and protects and fights for. This is something that is finally, finally, hers.)

Even now, she doesn't allow herself long, doesn't linger, except to stroke her palm down the long nose before stepping back, and he nods to her statement.

Kiseki's stall isn't far, and the bay is nosing curiously at the gate when Caspian returns, nodding to the tack hung by the unnamed stallion.

It's impossible to saddle silently, but they've no choice.

[queenofmay]

That last part doesn't even enter into Marian's thoughts. Maybe because it is the unwritten end to every sentence, every plan and step she has to take in a day here. No choice, but it is the only one she can take.

They are as quiet as they can be. Even if they both seem to leave shuddering silent seconds after the loudest of the things they do. As though daring to breathe and listen to hear if anyone else had heard was hard enough.



In nearly half an hour she's only said eight or ten words, and only over by Lineave. Only because she'd had to say something to explain her sudden unexpected disappearance into the dark. That she speaks, is only because it's important.

Somehow it always strikes her as weird to do so dressed this way. And yet it's easier, to speak in a whisper to him, across the stable walls.

"I'll take you back. I won't be able to stay long, if I'm to make it here before dawn, but I'll do my best to see if I can get away soon. It might not be today." She'll be watched today, especially, she may even be tasked to stay in the presence of her guard, Guy, or The Sheriff for her vanishing act.

She'll have to turn for the second time in hours from two more things she loves with bare seconds to hold them. Part of her, no matter how much it makes her heart ache, almost hopes that she can convince herself to rouse Much and not Robin in depositing Caspian to safety.

Except she'll want those seconds.

His willingness, and mutual frustration.

Even with no choice but to fly back after them.

[the_seafarer]

He nods, straightening the saddle blanket, lifting the heavy saddle up and onto Kiseki's back as quietly as he can. Leather creaks and metal jangles, small sounds that he never notices in the stables at Milliways, because it never matters there whether someone can hear him or not.

Every motion of an impatient hoof, every muffled clink of stirrups moving, every rustle of straw is something that can give them away. He remembers another night, long ago, in another cold stone castle: Destrier had been saddled and ready for him then, and now he offers up another long-deserved thanks for Doctor Cornelius' forethought.

He may be older now, wiser, more able to take care of himself and not fleeing without a plan, but that does not make the consequences of being caught any less severe.

Saddled and ready, he checks the sword in its scabbard, and leads Kiseki out of the stall, clucking gently, as soothing as he can. The gelding is nervous: he can feel the tension in the air, in his master's hands, and Caspian forces himself to take a deep breath, calm his mind.

"I'll watch for you," he promises. Of course she can't stay, of course she must come back to this place, but now that he knows the truth of her world, he'll not rest easy until he sees her again.

[queenofmay]

Marian tried to breathe in calmly, but each step of Kiseki being led out first falls like slamming door on her ears. She's gotten herself alone out of, and back into, here several time. But not with a horse, or two, or an extra person.

There'll be no way but knocking the guards at the gate cold out. Fast, and silent. It will help with there not being a castle search for long, too. She just has to be findable before that search gets too far along and anyone realizes she's missing, too.

Dawn. Dawn. Everything before dawn.


Marian led the great horse out of his stall, too. Adding to the noise, while trying to make her heart slow. She nodded, and started leading them down the passage she'd originally taken a run down. Headed for the exit that didn't lead to the main courtyard.

She was brave, and there was no choice, but she wasn't stupid.
She would risk as little of his life as she could manage.

[the_seafarer]

They're both intent and aware of every sound: each movement of horses in stalls sounds like it could be the footfalls of a man rounding the corner. There's nothing for it, though: at least they might be able to rely on surprise if caught, and with him armed and Marian disguised, they might well be able to quell a small attack.

Of course, that would only attract attention.

Best if they can sneak out with no one the wiser, and he follows Marian, heart pounding, wishing these stables had straw on the floors, or at least wood, rather than this hard stone that echoed back every step taken on it.

[queenofmay]

They reach the closed doors at the far end, down the second set of stalls. Each sound, each step, tightening the muscles between her spine and shoulders. But she didn't speak anymore. They were past words. It might go well, it might not. But it was all about actions now. About following through and getting him to safety.

Marian held out the reigns for her brute to Caspian, waiting until he took them to reach the doors. She had to grab the handle with both hands, as it is a huge, heavy door, to slide it back and give them an opening. Which takes a lot of focus, especially when you're trying to do it silently.





Thus, Marian would not be the first one of them to notice that when the door slides open, it's not a dark courtyard they are looking out into, but the late night shadows of a completely different set of stables. One Caspian would find far more familiar.

[the_seafarer]

The stallion tugs at the hand holding his head, but though he dances, impatient, heavy hooves clattering on the stable cobbles, he gains no purchase, only a soft shush from the man.

Kiseki stands quiet, though his ears are pricked, and when Marian opens the door, it's Kiseki who starts through while his master stands astounded. He's forced to pause when the reins tighten -- Caspian hasn't moved, not even when the gelding turns to look at him, expectant, tugging towards the smells and sounds he knows so well.

Caspian, on the other hand, is almost entirely flabbergasted.

"Marian," he says, above a whisper for the first time in what feels like days.

"Look."

[queenofmay]

She's nearly to sudden, irritated, panic that he's daring to use a normal speaking voice now that they are going to be closer to where people could be, open spaces where people looking down might see them, hear them, which caused her whirl sharply toward him.

But he's looking out the door, and her gaze shoots there.



And her heart can't tell whether it stops completely or shoots through her chest. Oh, thank The Lord. And The Lion. And everything ever anywhere. Milliways.

[the_seafarer]

Kiseki snorts, tugs again, and Caspian, finally, dazed and befuddled but no less grateful for it, begins to walk forward, though he stops by Marian to look over at her, gray eyes clear and questioning.

"Do you want to bring Lineave through?"

Perhaps not, but the mare would be safe here, far away from the Sheriff and his absurd desire to mete out punishmnet.

[queenofmay]

He already has one of her horses. He'll have escaped and have fled with three -- Except even as she's trying, her brain trying to jump hoops, plans, fall out, all her head is doing is nodding. Very quickly, with a breath in between her teeth at the concept.


She wouldn't be here. She wouldn't be in the castle. She wouldn't be nearby. Wouldn't be with her. But she'd be safe. She'd be with Caspian. And Kate. In Milliways.

[the_seafarer]

His smile widens, boyish and flashing white in the darkness of the two stables, and he tips his head towards the direction they'd gone before.

"Go on, then."

The door can't close with him standing in the middle of it, and all of sudden, there's time (though not much), and safety, and the relief is nearly overwhelming.

[queenofmay]

Marian looks at him briefly, a queasy combination of gratitude and guilt framing the the blue-grey of her eyes, before she takes off down the hallway. For how, completely out, fast she's going, how much like that first mad dash it is, it's amazing how completely quiet each of her steps is.






She'll return a few minutes later. No tack, no saddle, that part isn't important. She can get those later. Pieces not from this terrible place. Nothing taken with her. Lineave, with Marian's hand barely more than laid against her neck, actually following rather well at her side without lead, after endless years of habit with one.

If, by then, she caught on to the thought that she won't see Robin, again, for the second time today after expecting it, she's used to something always hurting, quietly, somewhere in her. She simply gave Caspian a small, rough, smile. "Thank you."

[the_seafarer]

He shakes his head. "I owe you thanks, Marian. Not the other way around."

She should not be forced to leave Lineave here, while he and Kiseki and the stallion return to safety.

He takes the steps, now -- the necessary ones to bring himself and the two horses across the threshold, breathing in deep the familiar scents of the stable.

The horses he ties to iron loops in the wall, before turning to Marian.

"Will you stay? Or return, for now?"

[queenofmay]

Marian can't think at all what he should owe her thanks for. After getting him trapped in her world, knocked out by a guard, jailed, aware she hadn't been entirely honest with him about, a lot of things at this point. But she doesn't say those words, since simply watches.

"I can't, after this morning." She would be paying for those few sunlit hours for days. If it is either her or her father, it will be her. She'll see to it. Make herself indispensably noticeable, so there isn't an option.

Which is why she stops just short of the line.

She won't let Milliways close behind her either.

Her gaze shifted to the fingers in the white hair they lay against, rubbing briefly, before over to Caspian returning from the other two horses. "She won't run. Just set her up for me, until I find another Door? And tell Kate, if you see her first?"

[the_seafarer]

He nods. There's nothing else to expect, no matter how his heart might ache at the thought of her remaining here, with all this pain and uncertainty, caught like a bird in a cage.

"I'll take care of her," he promises, and reaches to the white mare, who steps placidly along, into the her new home.

The eyes he turns on Marian might be solemn, but he finds a smile, as encouraging as he can make it.

"We'll look for you. And, Marian -- be careful."

[queenofmay]

Marian reached up the hand that had been on Lineave, to the bottom of the silk she'll have to pull back up shortly, curled her fingers against the silk. Not toying with it, only holding it. Soon she'll have to head back across the dark castle, to her dark room, to whatever short sleep there was to be had before the search would be called for or Vasiey sends for her.

She offered him a smile, tired and a little short of serious, rather than any other number of reactions that were considered, collected and rejected in the barest pause. "I'll be fine. You'll see me soon enough."

She hopes, for both their sake, it isn't a lie.

He's safe. That's the most important part.

[the_seafarer]

There's nothing left to do or say, but he lingers a moment, trying to read her expression, wondering what it is the new day will bring her, whether she'll be all right.

Her smile is small, but there, and it tugs an answering one from him, a faint flicker of lips into a one-sided curve before his face turns serious again.

"Aye. I hope so."

Lineave nudges at his arm, asking for attention, and he half-turns to her, but his eyes remain on the figure on the other side of the door until she closes it between them.

When he pulls it open again, there's nothing but night sky and the stars he's grown familiar with, and the breath he lets out is soft but deep.

"Come on, then," he says, turning to the newest arrival. "Let's find you a home."

[queenofmay]

She does, have to close it, closes it. Giving herself only the leave of a few seconds to lean her shoulder against the door, as the stalls are suddenly quieter. When it is suddenly only her. No Caspian. None of the three horses. No Robin.

There are only horses shifting and shaking their tails in lazy circles, and Nottingham Castle. She doesn't try the door, even if she looks toward it. If only letting her self get as far as her shoulder, before she stops indulging the urge.

He's safe. They are all safe. It is the most she can ask for.

Marian shook her head, tugging the silk back up, over her mouth and her ears, reaching back behind her head to tighten it, before pulling the cloak hood back up over her hair, as well. Giving a last look toward the horses, and making a note to come back here tomorrow night. To see if Sorely is here, as well, and consider other plans that might open up.

Then she's only a shadow, making her way back through the stables and across the darkened hallways and stairs of her once childhood home.