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queenofmayDay Four
Weary, with possibly two much face powder applied to make it look she slept and had not cried, she stood in the walkway with all the others gathered to watch the hanging. She looked attentive, but she didn't truly start listening until he showed they had died an hour before. Her empty stomach clenched against a wave of nausea as she watched the three bodies swing. She'd been angry, but never wished them death. And Robin, Robin and his men somewhere close likely devastated, but she couldn't look away from the Sherriff. She couldn't give her own self away. But she longed to run to him, to them, already.
When the Sherriff walked behind the closed doors, she turned away and left. Faster than the others. Easy to say she lost her stomach due to the bodies, she was a Lady after all; delicate, tender, not to be shocked. Didn't matter if it was well past her thirtieth hanging now.
And around one corner, a hand grabbed hers, pulled her elsewhere. There was Robin. Who's arms she couldn't run into. No. No. She hadn't thought that even.
It was obliterated in the ice which covered her body as his words reached her. Gisburn had found the Girl and the Necklace and had now linked Marion to Robin and the Consignment. The world rushed. In her head, the bodies swung and the man screamed. And Robin, of the dark, concerned eyes, yelled at her about not going home (not racing to protect her father) until he's come up with a plan. Her father. Gisburn would not stop at her father. Never had. Only dealt with him to pursue her.
She agreed.
It was a lie.
~*~
Marian arrived at her house, not so shocked but feeling the wave of terror, to find her father and Gisburn at the table. He was tense and terse as she tried to start with the formalities. He was a rope pulled completely taunts. Those dark eyes sizing her down as though she was something to be smashed under his boot now. She defend her innocence. Ended their friendship. Her voice was angry as she continued, and her sanity almost failed her in the moment he knocked her father down as he came forward to defend her. She forced herself to grab what little wits she had as he accused her of the necklace, of helping Robin Hood.
It was upstairs. Yes, upstairs. Her room could have been robbed.
He came in as she was messing up everything. Calling her on it. She readied to tell him she didn't know where she'd placed it. She pleaded, womanly, weakly-looking, but honestly terrified, that he her prove herself. He brought up the fact she was feeding information to Robin as she continued to decry his words and claim her innocence. She continued to tell him he was wrong. Thinking about her father. About all the minutes of her life she'd never spent helping. Of the fact she hadn't allowed Robin to kiss her.
Why had she not told him she still loved him?
And yet still he asked for the truth. Her eyes scanned the world outside her window. How had she never loved it enough either? How had she not stood here every morning to be glad of it? Why keep her smallest trophies of position when it might have helped another, when now it would simply end up in the Sherriff’s treasury. She looked out at all of it, tears filling her eyes, as she answered.
“The truth is this country is being choked to death. The truth is honest people are being forced to lie and cheat and steal and if you really want to know the truth you should know that I—“
And then a hand held out the necklace outside the window. And there was Robin. His beautiful eyes arrogant and apologetic.
And she wanted to kiss him. For bringing the necklace. For keeping his word. For saving her.
She turned on Guy holding it. The power in her court and his shock, his repentance making everything else vanish instantly. She shoved it into his hand, made him feel that it was real, letting anger sink into her voice as she told him he owed her an apology. For what he'd, for what they'd, put her through now. The apology, like the shock, like the repentance, was small, as though the entire issue did not matter anymore. He was so like a child, suddenly turning to confide in her that he'd told the Sherriff about his accusation.
That he was expected to return with her arrested. That the necklace would not save her. That the incident would throw obvious doubt on her and her father. That this was not even the first time she'd defied him. That she needed to prove her loyalty. And then, with no warning and no good show, he said, "Marry me."
The water was raising around her, drowning her, as she stared into those dark eyes. Those dark eyes so worried for her now. Those dark eyes which had only moments ago sought her arrest, her death. Those very words poured out of her mouth. She knew he was right, but the very though made her want to wretch more than the hanging or the blood on her hands. And in her hesitance, her terror, he turned it on her about her engagement to Robin. And she said the words she knew he needed to hear.
"I would never marry him. I despise Robin Hood.”
And in that moment, she did hate him. She hated Robin Hood because the window was silent but she knew he was still there. She hated Robin Hood because even outlawed he'd stay until she was safely out of Gisburn's company. She hated Robin Hood because he'd hear all the things she'd meant years ago, but didn't feel now. She hated Robin Hood because he wasn't a lord, and he didn't have Locksley, and the Sherriff was not her father, and Robin gone to war only to return to war land at home. She hated Robin Hood because only minutes ago she'd admitted to herself that if she was dying she loved him, had always loved only him.
But Guy was self-center and it was only about him. Would she marry him.
With the only other option being death? Maybe tomorrow or the next day, but nipping at her heels, always.
Those dark eyes. So excited, so dangerous, so trying to help, that had been trying to hurt. A dark cloak to surround her, and then choke the life from her.
“Yes. I will marry you. I will marry you...." She looked off as she added the only clause she could think of with no time, "The day King Richard returns to England.”
She leaned her head away when he tried to kiss her, telling him they needed to go down and tell her father. The child-like reaction in him seemed suddenly distracted by the ability to go tell someone. He'd won the prize he'd sought for more than five years. He walked out of the room and she walked back to the window. She closed one shutter, the one closest to where Robin sat, before she looked at him.
And, most of all, Marian hated Robin Hood—as she closed the window with her one word apology to him—because the look in his eyes was the look she'd seen in her mirror for three years, as though someone was burning away all the light.
Weary, with possibly two much face powder applied to make it look she slept and had not cried, she stood in the walkway with all the others gathered to watch the hanging. She looked attentive, but she didn't truly start listening until he showed they had died an hour before. Her empty stomach clenched against a wave of nausea as she watched the three bodies swing. She'd been angry, but never wished them death. And Robin, Robin and his men somewhere close likely devastated, but she couldn't look away from the Sherriff. She couldn't give her own self away. But she longed to run to him, to them, already.
When the Sherriff walked behind the closed doors, she turned away and left. Faster than the others. Easy to say she lost her stomach due to the bodies, she was a Lady after all; delicate, tender, not to be shocked. Didn't matter if it was well past her thirtieth hanging now.
And around one corner, a hand grabbed hers, pulled her elsewhere. There was Robin. Who's arms she couldn't run into. No. No. She hadn't thought that even.
It was obliterated in the ice which covered her body as his words reached her. Gisburn had found the Girl and the Necklace and had now linked Marion to Robin and the Consignment. The world rushed. In her head, the bodies swung and the man screamed. And Robin, of the dark, concerned eyes, yelled at her about not going home (not racing to protect her father) until he's come up with a plan. Her father. Gisburn would not stop at her father. Never had. Only dealt with him to pursue her.
She agreed.
It was a lie.
~*~
Marian arrived at her house, not so shocked but feeling the wave of terror, to find her father and Gisburn at the table. He was tense and terse as she tried to start with the formalities. He was a rope pulled completely taunts. Those dark eyes sizing her down as though she was something to be smashed under his boot now. She defend her innocence. Ended their friendship. Her voice was angry as she continued, and her sanity almost failed her in the moment he knocked her father down as he came forward to defend her. She forced herself to grab what little wits she had as he accused her of the necklace, of helping Robin Hood.
It was upstairs. Yes, upstairs. Her room could have been robbed.
He came in as she was messing up everything. Calling her on it. She readied to tell him she didn't know where she'd placed it. She pleaded, womanly, weakly-looking, but honestly terrified, that he her prove herself. He brought up the fact she was feeding information to Robin as she continued to decry his words and claim her innocence. She continued to tell him he was wrong. Thinking about her father. About all the minutes of her life she'd never spent helping. Of the fact she hadn't allowed Robin to kiss her.
Why had she not told him she still loved him?
And yet still he asked for the truth. Her eyes scanned the world outside her window. How had she never loved it enough either? How had she not stood here every morning to be glad of it? Why keep her smallest trophies of position when it might have helped another, when now it would simply end up in the Sherriff’s treasury. She looked out at all of it, tears filling her eyes, as she answered.
“The truth is this country is being choked to death. The truth is honest people are being forced to lie and cheat and steal and if you really want to know the truth you should know that I—“
And then a hand held out the necklace outside the window. And there was Robin. His beautiful eyes arrogant and apologetic.
And she wanted to kiss him. For bringing the necklace. For keeping his word. For saving her.
She turned on Guy holding it. The power in her court and his shock, his repentance making everything else vanish instantly. She shoved it into his hand, made him feel that it was real, letting anger sink into her voice as she told him he owed her an apology. For what he'd, for what they'd, put her through now. The apology, like the shock, like the repentance, was small, as though the entire issue did not matter anymore. He was so like a child, suddenly turning to confide in her that he'd told the Sherriff about his accusation.
That he was expected to return with her arrested. That the necklace would not save her. That the incident would throw obvious doubt on her and her father. That this was not even the first time she'd defied him. That she needed to prove her loyalty. And then, with no warning and no good show, he said, "Marry me."
The water was raising around her, drowning her, as she stared into those dark eyes. Those dark eyes so worried for her now. Those dark eyes which had only moments ago sought her arrest, her death. Those very words poured out of her mouth. She knew he was right, but the very though made her want to wretch more than the hanging or the blood on her hands. And in her hesitance, her terror, he turned it on her about her engagement to Robin. And she said the words she knew he needed to hear.
"I would never marry him. I despise Robin Hood.”
And in that moment, she did hate him. She hated Robin Hood because the window was silent but she knew he was still there. She hated Robin Hood because even outlawed he'd stay until she was safely out of Gisburn's company. She hated Robin Hood because he'd hear all the things she'd meant years ago, but didn't feel now. She hated Robin Hood because he wasn't a lord, and he didn't have Locksley, and the Sherriff was not her father, and Robin gone to war only to return to war land at home. She hated Robin Hood because only minutes ago she'd admitted to herself that if she was dying she loved him, had always loved only him.
But Guy was self-center and it was only about him. Would she marry him.
With the only other option being death? Maybe tomorrow or the next day, but nipping at her heels, always.
Those dark eyes. So excited, so dangerous, so trying to help, that had been trying to hurt. A dark cloak to surround her, and then choke the life from her.
“Yes. I will marry you. I will marry you...." She looked off as she added the only clause she could think of with no time, "The day King Richard returns to England.”
She leaned her head away when he tried to kiss her, telling him they needed to go down and tell her father. The child-like reaction in him seemed suddenly distracted by the ability to go tell someone. He'd won the prize he'd sought for more than five years. He walked out of the room and she walked back to the window. She closed one shutter, the one closest to where Robin sat, before she looked at him.
And, most of all, Marian hated Robin Hood—as she closed the window with her one word apology to him—because the look in his eyes was the look she'd seen in her mirror for three years, as though someone was burning away all the light.