Disclaimer: I do not own The New Adventures of Robin Hood, or any of the characters pertaining to the show, stories, or movies. I am not writing this story for profit, only for the enjoyment of myself and others that love the tale of Robin Hood as much as I do. Please enjoy, and read and review Remember, this is based on the television show starring Matthew Porretta as Robin Hood, the Robin Hood of my generation, the perfect heir to Errol Flynn, and one of my favorite actors. If he should by chance read this story, I hope that I do his Robin Hood, and the Robin Hood of legend, justice.

Setting: Just after 'Bombs Away', nearing night fall.

The ride back to camp was quite peaceful. None of Gisbourne's guards followed them, or even attempted to stop them after Robin had led the group out of Guy's palace and to their horses, to head back to camp. Robin chatted with Marion some of the way, but mostly, he kept alert for trouble. He'd seen the look on Guy's face just before they'd left; he wouldn't be surprised if the nobleman sent every soldier he had in his command out into the forest, after picking his jaw up off the floor of course.

Robin looked behind him. Little John, Tuck, and Kemal were making joyful conversation, probably reveling their most recent triumph over Sir Guy of Gisbourne. Robin couldn't blame them; normally, he would be right back there with them, making light of the situation and acting out the most embarrassing scenes of Sir Guy as best he could on his horse, but he wasn't in the mood. Not right now. His friends had gotten that message when they'd called up to him earlier, asking Robin to make a 'Shocked Gisbourne' face, but the only response they'd received was a sullen shake of the head and a small smile that didn't quite touch the eyes before he returned his attention to the road in front of him. After that, they'd decided to hang back from the two and have their fun in a more subtle way.

Neither Robin nor Marion had brought up their adventure over the past two days. Neither really wanted to think about it. For Robin, it was particularly emotionally strenuous. Watching Guy kiss Marion in the garden, having to ask Guy to ensure Marion's safety, and worst of all, feeling threatened by Guy in a way that he'd never been before. Not since he and Marion were budding teenagers had he felt such fear of losing her in a way that he hadn't thought possible; to Guy. And then, there was the guilt he was feeling for ever allowing himself to think that Marion could willingly give herself to Guy. Robin rolled his eyes up to the sky.

Guy. Honestly, what kind of name was that?

"What are you looking at?"

Keeping his head tilted toward the sky, Robin cocked his head to the side just enough to see Marion looking up as well. He smiled and shrugged, turning his focus on the road again. "Just making sure the hawks aren't getting any funny ideas about depositing their waste on my head." He flashed her a charming grin, and was glad when she couldn't help but laugh and shake her head. After the Hell she'd been put through in the past 48 hours, it was the least he could do to help her take her mind off things. Most of the time, Marion was a master at manipulating her facial expressions to mask her inner feelings, but Robin had known her since they were small children. He knew she was just as shaken about recent events as he was, though he would never admit it to her. Well, he would never admit it to her first.

"Oy, Robin!" A cry of welcome came out from the camp as they neared. Children ran immediately to Robins horse, urging him to get down and play a game with them. Robin eyed one of the children who was carrying a ball. "So, it's a game of catch that's on schedule today, is it?" He leapt down from his horse, allowing one of the older boys to take his horse away. Before anyone knew it, Robin was off, running around with the children in the open grass land that was often the spot for the most exciting of games.

Robin Hood

Marion shook her head, smiling as she climbed down from her mount. It was amazing to watch Robin revert from a passionate and dangerous man to nothing but a fun loving human being who could act no older than the children he was playing with at present. In a way, it was refreshing to see him like this. It was much better than seeing him in the controlled rage that he was in earlier.

"Marion."

The auburn haired woman turned and smiled at Tuck in greeting. "Glad to be home?" she inquired, motioning with her head for her to follow him to the make shift stable. "Ah yes, praise God. I never thought I would be so happy for fresh air, cold breeze, and...yes, I do believe it was laundry day. It seems we've returned just in time!" They reached the stable and Marion tethered her horse to it's normal spot, giving her mare a grain bag and patting its back before turning to Tuck.

"Tuck, you have that fatherly smile on your face," she observed, sitting down on a bale of hay, "what is it?"

"Marion, the events of the past few days must have been very hard on you, what with Guy's manipulations of you and Robin...all of us really, but the two of you mainly-"

"Tuck," Marion held up a hand, smiling gently at him, "I'm fine. Really. We all knew what could happen and Guy didn't disappoint. It was expected..." Her smile waned however, just slightly, and Tuck noticed. He didn't press the issue though. "Well, if you want a listening ear, you know where my hut is. You know you're welcome there anytime, Marion."

"I know, Tuck." Marion stood up. "But for now, I think I'm going to get the stench of Guy's castle off of me. I'll be at the lake if anyone needs me." She clapped Tuck on the shoulder as she walked away, heading for her hut. On the way, she passed Kalem, who was watching Robin and now Little John run around with the children in, what had been a game of catch, was now 'tackle the person with the ball'. "It is odd to me that two men who fight every day with the sword can be so light hearted, as though they'd never killed before." Marion stopped and turned around, watching the two men and kids play with each other, a smile warming her face again. She really was very lucky to know both men. If a stranger had walked into the camp presently, Marion was sure that he or she would believe Robin and Little John to be simple village folk, and not the warriors that they proved they were over and over again.

"Those children are what they fight for." Marion answered simply, continuing on to her small hut. She grabbed a woolen blanket and some herbs for scenting and headed back out around her hut, thankful that the trail she'd be taking would afford her some privacy. She wanted to be alone for a little while, to mull her thoughts over.

Her walk was at a brisk pace, nothing but the sounds of her footsteps, the birds chirping, and normal, cool, England breeze caressing her skin. Soon, she heard the soft flow of the lake ahead of her and she walked through the clearing, finally glimpsing what was to her, her salvation. When she'd first come to Sherwood, when Robin had asked her to join him in his fight, she had scouted out the camp the first day she'd arrived. The hut that she lived in now had specially chosen. It was the closet to the lake, and it allowed her a private path to go and think and be alone when she most needed. Though everyone in the village knew about the path, only one knew the reason why Marion had chosen her hut to be placed where it was.

Marion sighed slowly, thinking about Robin, their time together all these years. It had been a long time, and yet not long enough being in his presence every day. She settled her things along the bank and removed her boots and arm gauntlets before discarding her day wear, leaving her in the under garments that protected her skin from the tight, and sometimes uncomfortable leather that was her uniform. After discarding those, she slipped into the crisp, clear water and immediately went under, allowing her body to be completely immersed in the liquid that never failed to calm her nerves, and allow her to sort through her latest worries. And her latest worries were quite troublesome, more than usual.

She meant what she'd said to Robin when they were leaving Guy's castle. She really couldn't believe she'd kissed Gisbourne willingly, on the mouth. She couldn't believe that she'd allowed herself to be taken in by him. She couldn't believe she'd actually thought Robin dead when he had always proved to cheat death in the past. She could, however, believe that Guy had not changed. His involvement in trying to kill Robin was proof enough of that. At the end of the day, Sir Guy of Gisbourne did not want Marion by his side. He wanted Lady Marion, the Marion she very well could have become had she not left Fitzwalter Castle for Robin and the hard life she led now. Then again, if her father had not been killed, she may have never left. Perhaps that was the way God wanted it. Marion didn't know.

Taking some of the herbs from the pouch on the bank, she wadded over to a group of rocks, settling herself against them, smearing some of the mint and sage over her skin. The scent was instantaneous and she could feel the stench of soot, brick, and she could swear, the scent of Guy himself leaving her pores to be cleaned by the calm lake around her.

Fine with her. The lake could have it.

At least she'd come to her senses in the end. She'd told Guy that she wasn't for him; she belonged to someone else. In truth, she always had. She remembered her parents bickering about which suitor to match Marion with when she was younger. The young Robert of Locksley was a fine young man, her parents always said. He and Marion got along beautifully. But Sir Guy of Gisbourne was of a higher status in the court of the King, and was respected by many Norman born nobles, while the Family of Locksley held a sympathetic ear and hand to the Saxons that were fast becoming stamped out by the Normans.

If a war was to come, they wanted to ensure the daughter was on the right side of it, out of danger. With the Locksleys being noble sympathizers, they weren't sure if Marion would have the life they wanted for her. In the end, it was Marion asking her father to match her with Robin; even at 14 years of age, she knew that if hardship were to come, she at least knew she'd be happy with Robin. Guy was nice enough to her, but to all others, he was a brute and bully, sure of his station, and careless of others.

Rinsing her arms, Marion thought away those memories. She didn't want to go where they would lead her. Memories of Robins father being murdered, Robin deciding to leave, to find his own path, and Marion's father ultimately changing his mind on her betrothed. It had been the worst day of her life, hearing that Robin had left her for an untold road. She was so angry with him, and why not? She was only just reaching 15. She didn't understand back then the way she did now. But when her father had announced that in Robins place, Guy would serve as her suitor...

Marion shook her head, refusing the path once more. She would not think about those times. It was in the past, there was nothing she could do about it. She was where she wanted to be now, and that was all that mattered. She was doing real good in this kingdom; she couldn't imagine being anywhere else, and now that her head was on straight, she couldn't believe that she'd entertained the thought of Sir Guy changing. Once again, it was all just a scheme. A scheme to get the lands that were left to her after her father was killed in the crusades and her mother had died upon hearing the news. A scheme to get closer to the crown as her family were cousins to King Richard and John. A scheme to marry her. A scheme to kill Robin.

"You saved Marion's life. And that is the only reason why I am sparing yours."

Yes, Marion thought to herself as she floated away from the rocks back toward the bank, thinking of the venomous words Robin had whispered to Guy, so that I may have the chance to do it myself. She allowed her rage to bubble to the surface, viciously slapping the small waves in front of her. Never before had she been so disappointed and angry at herself. She'd allowed herself to believe that a man whom she knew could not change, had in fact done so, and based on what? A romantic claim of seeing what the crusades were all about? Robin had nearly died because of her willingness to give Sir Guy another chance, because of her willingness, her want to believe that the boy she and Robin had both grown up with could be something different than what he was now.

Floating near the bank now, she rested her head against it, blinking back tears and swallowing the lump she felt rising in her throat. If Robin had died in that bombing, it would have been no one's fault but her own. Guy and Ika had planted it, had planned it, but it was her need to give Guy a chance that would have allowed it to happen.

The thought made her sick. Now she fought down the bile that threatened to escape her mouth, putting a wet hand over her lips and shutting them tightly. It didn't happen. She was here, Robin was alive and playing with the children like he always did, and Little John, Tuck, and Kalem were there too, none of them baring her any ill will for what had happened. She slowly rose out of the water, reaching for the blanket she'd brought with her to cover her wet form and picked up her things. She wanted nothing more than to sleep, and looking up at the growing night sky, she new that things back at camp would be winding down as well. She made her way back without trouble and entered her hut once more, drying off and running her fingers through her hair. After putting on a light weight, woolen sleeping gown, she put away her things. Then, she groaned.

I left the herb pouch back at the lake.

No matter. She'd get it in the morning, when she was rested. At present, she was too exhausted to go trekking back out there again, and she highly doubted anyone would be around there to steal it. That thought in mind, she dropped on her sleeping pallet, curling her blanket around her and closed her eyes, praying that sleep would take her soon.

Robin Hood

Darkness fell over the camp, a beautiful star filled night with thin wisps of clouds spotted all over the sky. Normally, Robin would be up late, lying on a patch of grass trying to pick out the different constellations in the black depths. When riding at night, it was a smart man that kept the knowledge of the constellations about him. His father had taught him to navigate by star when he was young. When young Robert would ask why he would need knowledge of constellations, his father replied, "Signs are not every where, my son. Sometimes you must look to the heavens to find your way".

Staring into the fire that lit the main yard of the camp, Robin could hear his fathers voice now delivering those same words by way of the wind. It was soft, but it was also unfailingly there, just as his fathers voice had been. He leaned forward, working on the sticks he'd gathered after he'd finished playing with the boys and girls of their small, humble village. All of them were now safely tucked in their beds, and the nights guards were just beginning to assume their posts. Thankfully, one of the other men in the camp had offered to take Robins place that night, and Robin had gratefully accepted. Afterwards he'd gone into the forest to gather sticks that could be made into arrows. He was now shaving and cutting them into the strength needed to defend himself, and the lives of those under his protection.

He'd been happy for the game that he'd played earlier; it had helped him to relieve his mind of the tension he'd been feeling. He'd left Guy's castle angrier than he remembered being, a boiling fury growing deep within him as he thought about how maliciously Guy had manipulated them all, especially Marion. Robin had meant what he'd said: if Guy had not saved Marion from that fire, Robin would have left Gisbourne's castle with a dead master, hopped on his horse, and ridden away as if nothing had happened. After what Guy had done to Marion, Robin would have done it gladly. He knew that eventually he would regret his decision to let Gisbourne live, but he knew that he couldn't have slit the mans throat in front of Marion. She'd been through enough. No, at that moment, Robin had just wanted to get himself, and her, out of there as quickly as possible.

"Hey, Robin."

"Little John," Robin greeted as the gentle giant sat next to him, "great game earlier this evening".

"Yea, I especially liked the part where young Peter and Henry tackled you to the ground and Eliza seized the ball from you," Little John chuckled at the memory, taking stock of the sticks Robin had been working on.

"Really? I thought the best part was Genevieve throwing the ball so hard it knocked you on your back!" Robin grinned right back at his friend. Little John shook his head. "Ye can't blame me there, Robin. The girls throw is as hard as her punch! Besides," he shrugged, picking up one of the sticks, "she caught me by surprise". He examined the soon-to-be weapon carefully before he spoke again. "So, how are you doing?"

Ah, here we go, Robin thought to himself, continuing his work, not missing a beat. "I'm fine, Little John. I wasn't the one that had to suffer an embrace with Sir Guy". He finished the stick he'd been working on and put it Little Johns feet, reaching to start on another one. "Honestly, you should be asking Marion that question".

"I tried to find her," Little John unsheathed his dagger and picked up a stick of his own, "but she disappeared pretty soon after we got back. No one knew where she'd gone...oh, well, Tuck said she'd gone to the lake, but I didn't want to go down there looking for her". He stopped shaving the stick and gave Robin a glance. "You may not have...well, you had to watch it, is what I'm saying". Robin stopped his work and returned his friends look.

"I appreciate the concern, Little John. I do. Right now though, I just want to make some arrows". Robin hoped the man took the hint. He just didn't want to think about what he'd watched occurring in Guys garden. He wanted to forget about it all and go on his merry way as though it had never happened. Thankfully, Little John clapped him on the shoulder and rose to his feet. "Alright, I'll leave it alone. I should be gettin' some sleep anyhow. G'night, my friend".

"Little John," Robin called after a few seconds. He heard the man turn back toward him. "I really do appreciate it. Thank you".

"Anytime".

He watched Little John walk away, then returned to his work, carefully, methodically shaping each stick until it was perfect. As he continued however, his mind wandered to Marion. Maybe he should have had a talk with her privately when they'd returned, to make sure she was alright...to make sure they were alright. But he hadn't. As usual, he let sleeping dogs lie when it came to their unspoken, unrequited, uninvolved relationship.

He put the knife down he'd been working with and stood up, placing his hands on his hips and looking towards her hut. Maybe he should go check on her, see if she was awake, if she maybe wanted some company? But, no, he shook his head, running a hand through his shoulder length, dark brown hair in frustration. She'd had a very long few days. If Marion had gone to her secluded spot as he suspected she had, and then not come out into the camp, she wanted to be left alone.

So, Robin sat back down and watched the flames dance in the fire pit. Nature astounded him consistently. He often wondered if, should they all be blessed by King Richards return, he would go back to the life as a nobleman. He'd come to love the hard life; sleeping on rough pallets, hunting and preparing his own food, crafting his own weapons, living amongst the good people he'd come to know. He could see himself living his days out in Sherwood, whether or not Richard returned to claim his throne and set things right again. Robin was at home in the green of the forest; for him, it was much more fulfilling to create his life rather than have his every whim and need taken care of.

Of course, if Richard restored his title and his lands, Robin would have to go back. There were villages and people that would depend on him for guidance and leadership. He would have land to manage and a place in the court once more, just as his father had before he'd been killed.

This was all assuming that he would still be alive by the time King Richard returned. The woodsman closed his eyes and sighed. He had to admit this latest run in with Sir Guy had almost cost him his life. In fact, Robin had noticed that the troops and enemies he'd encountered over the past year had been frighteningly deadly. He may be alive now, but he knew of many brave peasants who had dared to challenge authority and had paid dearly for it.

He picked up a piece of bark and threw it into the fire, watching the flames consume the piece of wood until it was nothing but ash. The arrows were now forgotten; Robin was content to just stare into the fire, as though it would give him the answers he needed for the many questions he had. There were so many things that he wanted in this life. He wanted peace between Saxons and Normans; he wanted to live his life a free man, however he saw fit; he wanted a family with little ones running around, his own brood that he could teach and share life's joys and pains...he wanted to share his life with a woman who could challenge him mentally and physically, who could teach their children that they didn't have to conform to a social hierarchy, and who would support and love him as he would her.

He wanted Marion. From the first day he'd met her, he'd been in awe of her, of her grace, her voice, her kindness and compassion, her unequaled beauty, her intelligence, her strength...what had been awe and admiration had turned into a feeling unparalleled. He wasn't even sure if 'love' was the correct word for the feelings he had for her. It seemed too simple, too small a word for such a grand emotion.

And oddly, that poem that she'd written him all those years ago seemed to express everything it was that he felt about her. Everything.

"Do you mind if I sit down?"

Robin nearly jumped out of his skin. It was good that he wasn't on watch tonight; he didn't even hear Marion coming up behind him. He stood up and turned toward her, noticing the look of apprehension on her face. "Marion...I thought you were sleeping?" He held his hand out to her and she took it, allowing him to guide her around the log he'd been sitting on and lower her onto it.

"I tried," she answered, settling herself and looking up at him, "I couldn't." He smiled wanly at her. "I know what you mean," he said, picking up one of the sticks he'd been working on to show her what he'd been doing with his time.

Marion clutched the blanket she wore over her dress tighter to her body. Though she was near a fairly roaring fire, it was still a bit nippy. Robin didn't fail to notice this. "Would you like another blanket?"

"No," she answered softly, shaking her head, "I'm alright." She cleared her throat and looked into the flames. She felt Robins eyes on her, and she knew he wanted to challenge that statement, but she was thankful that he decided against it. Marion allowed herself a deep breath, breathing in the night air, willing her mind to cease with the thoughts that had been plaguing her since she'd left Gisbourne's castle.

The both sat there for a time, each contemplating their own thoughts, trying to work out the best way to start a conversation without making the situation more awkward, but neither were having any luck. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire in front of them, the occasional hooting of the owls that frequented their camp, and the footsteps of the night watchers on duty. Finally Robin stood up and held a hand down to Marion.

"Walk with me," he requested, and Marion could not deny the imploring, brown eyes that gazed down at her. Wordlessly, she took his hand and rose, following him away from the fire and towards the main path that led to the lake. Before leaving the camp however, he stopped by his hut and came out with his cloak which he fastened to Marion's shoulders, taking the blanket from her afterwards. "Thank you," he heard her whisper, and Robin could have sworn that he heard the sound of shame in her voice.

He decided to let that assumption pass however, and led her on until they were at the main bank of the lake. The water dazzled underneath the moon, which was now waning, but was still no less bright. Both of them stood there, gazing out at the soft, rippling waters that were reflecting the moon in all her glory. It was so tranquil, so peaceful and calming, soothing in a way that no other environment would allow, and Robin and Marion were each happy to be sharing the moment with the other.

"I'm sorry for what you went through these past few days," Robin offered, turning his eyes on her. "I should have known Guy was up to something. I had a feeling our 'Lord of Gisbourne' had some tricks up his sleeve, but I was too slow to act..." he trailed off, not knowing what else to say. It was worrying him that she was being so quiet, but unsure of what else to say or do, he remained silent.

"The fault doesn't lie with you, Robin," she finally answered, but not meeting his eyes, "the fault lies with me." Her throat was beginning to constrict, but she pressed on, ignoring the lump in the back of it. "You warned me about him, but I didn't listen. I wanted to believe that he could change, and you almost died because of it-" she closed her eyes, pushing the memories of a house on fire and Robin still stuck inside it out of her mind. When she opened them again, she found Robin standing in front of her, confusion and dismay all over his face.

"Marion, what happened was not your fault," he forcefully exclaimed, placing his hands on her shoulders, "you had nothing to do with the bomb Guy and Ika planted. You bare no responsibility for the explosion, and you should have no guilt over what may or may not have happened to me, or what Guy manipulated you to believe." She wasn't quite meeting his eyes, and that unnerved him. There was something more going on here. Robins hands moved up her shoulders to cup her heart shaped face in his hands.

"Marion," he stepped closer to her, trying to get her beautiful blue eyes to meet his, "I mean it. Don't think on it anymore."

"How can I not think on it?" She asked bitterly, stepping out of his grasp. Underneath Robins cloak, her arms closed tighter around her middle. "If I'd been more cautious, if I'd listened to you that day in the green when Guy came back, if I hadn't allowed myself to believe, to give him a second chance...and then that day in the garden..." she looked up at him, shaking her head slowly. "I feel as though I betrayed you somehow in that moment. And I know I betrayed myself." In that instant she could no longer keep the tears back, and allowed them to fall silently down pale cheeks.

Robin watched her, not knowing what to do. This was a side of Marion that didn't rise to surface very often. He was used to her witty comebacks, her unfailing strength, and cool exterior under pressure. "You weren't weak," he suddenly said, "you weren't foolish. You weren't ignorant." He advanced toward her slowly again, parting her cloak slowly to reach for a hand. "You were cautious. Your mind was open." With his other hand, he brushed away the tears from her face. "You should hold no guilt towards yourself for what happened. You couldn't have known. None of us could have known the plans Guy had, and for what he tried to do to you, you should be angry, but at him. Not at yourself."

He didn't realize how close their bodies had become. He was now within inches of her face, holding her hand to his mouth and pressing a sweet kiss to it. He tucked her hand to his heart, his other hand still tracing a now tear stained check. "You could never betray me," he whispered, smiling lightly, "you love me too much." His smile widened when a chuckle escaped her mouth, and her eyes crinkled with long deserved happiness. Marion gratefully leaned into him and felt his arms encircle her, holding her to him with a subtle strength that only he seemed to have. He felt him press a kiss to her hair and in response, she held tighter to him, not wanting to let him go. Moments like this with him were always far and few between, and even when they did happen, they were almost always interrupted by a crisis. She sighed and looked up at him.

"There is one thing I should apologize for." she murmured, and he waited for her to speak again, his eyes never leaving hers. "In the garden, with Guy...I know that hurt you...I don't know why I let him kiss me." She swallowed. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"Oh, that's easy," Robin shrugged nonchalantly, "you were thinking, 'My goodness, Sir Guy looks so much like Robin. In fact, I wish it were Robin sitting here with me right now'." He raised his eyebrows at Marion, who was looking at him with a wry grin on his face. "Does that about sum it up?" Although Marion was ducking her head, trying to hide the smile on her face, he knew that it was an affirmative. He realized their hands had never left each other, and he looked at them in wonder. How could two people feel such strength and caring from one another, and from that emotion feel such invincibility? His gaze moved from their entwined hands to her face once more.

"You're standing here now," she whispered carefully, her head still tucked into the security of his chest. She felt him squeeze her hand while his other hand moved underneath her chin, lifting her face to confront his.

"I will always stand with you," he murmured, his mouth just hovering over hers, "as long as the moon shines and the sun still rises." His lips ghosted over hers just for a moment before his mouth claimed hers softly and sweetly, the moment that both of them had waited so long to have, finally coming to fruition. Yet neither forced the exhilarating sensation. Their kisses may have been considered shy by some, but they'd waited years to reach this moment. There was no need to rush.

Robin's mouth moved from Marion's to her eyes, kissing them softly before looking down at her. She was truly an angel of light come to save him from his demons. "My Lady is a little flushed," he joked.

"And my Lord is slightly out of breath," she responded in kind, smiling none the less, worrying her lower lip. "Ah, ah," Robin tapped her mouth with his finger, "none of that." He pulled her down in a sitting position beside him, both of their eyes gazing out at the lake, wrapped up in each other and the blanket that Robin had with him.

They laid there for the longest time, each pointing out constellations and the wisps of clouds in the sky, talking about everything from memories of their child hood to battles they'd fought in the past, to what their future was in Sherwood, if and when King Richard returned. They'd spoken briefly of marriage, but both agreed for the time being it would be best left set aside for future plans. They knew their union wouldn't stay secret for long and that was a major security threat for not only them, but the camp and villages they protected. Marion was technically still under protection as a noble woman. Her lands, titles, and dowry had not been stripped from her as of yet, mostly because of Sir Guy's pining and hope that she would one day 'come to her senses' and leave Sherwood and Robin for him and his lavish life style. If she were to marry Robin, they both knew not even Sir Guy would be able to keep Prince John and the court of Treason from signing her death warrant.

"Well, it's nice to know Sir Guy is good for something," Marion joked, shrugging off the very real and close danger that she could find herself in. "Yes, he does make a rather good shield, doesn't he?" Robin chuckled, resting his forehead on the back of her thick, wavy, brown-haired head. "Would you want to stay in Sherwood?"

"I don't know," Marion answered, smiling, "before you asked me to come out here, I couldn't dream of a life in the woods. I loved the forest and walking through it, but actually building a life there..." she sighed, content with her surroundings, "now, I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be. But once Richard returns, and things are set right, we'd have to go back. There are villages and people under our protection, lands that need to be farmed and cared for..." she trailed off.

"So, if my title and lands are restored, we don't stay in our manors," Robin announced, "we work among the people. Sounds good to me. And," he tightened his hold around her stomach, knowing the reaction he was about to receive, "when I come home from a long, hard day outside with the farmers, I know you'll have dinner on the table for me." He watched as she turned her head to the side as far as it would go so she could see him. "I will have dinner on the table for you?" She shifted to fully face him, her eye brows raised. "You, who constantly condemns my cooking as poison that should be sent to Prince John as a present on the Winter Solstice?" Robin was trying, to his credit, to hold in his laughter, but the look on his love's face was too priceless not to let the sounds of humor leave his mouth. He fell on his back, his shoulder length brown hair spilling out in waves on the ground, the moon highlighting the strands as he howled with laughter.

"I do believe that a certain outlaw will be spending many a night in the guest chambers," Marion warned facetiously.

"Maybe the kitchen since I'll probably be hungry!" Marion's indignant look gave him all the warning he needed to try and shield his stomach from the heavy hand she was now trying to land on him. They wrestled with each other, neither willing to give the upper hand. Even though Robin was physically stronger than Marion, she was far more flexible and agile; they were, in every way, Robin thought to himself as Marion planted herself on top of him and pinned his arms, a perfect match.

"On top, Marion?" Robin feigned surprise.

"Get used to it, Robin," she retorted, lowering herself to give him a long, full kiss, which he returned with unfettered passion, his fingers threading her hair in an effort to bring them closer together. When their mouths broke apart, Robin reached up to give a soft kiss to her forehead.

"As much as it pains me to say this-"

"-it's very, very late," she finished for him, brushing the side of his face with her hands.

"I haven't told you yet tonight how much I love you, Marion," he softly whispered, brushing the hair out of her eyes, "I do, you know. More than life it's self."

"I know, Robin. I never lost faith in your love for me. And I will tell you every day how much you mean to me, how much I love you...how much I can't wait to spend the rest of my life by your side."

"Bad cooking and all?"

Marion laughed as she got up, brushing herself of the twigs and dirt on the cloak. "Bad cooking and all." She waited for Robin to gather the blanket, then he and she clasped hands, walking back to camp. "What'll we tell Tuck?" Marion asked casually. Robin frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, he'll want to marry us, I'm sure, and I can't think of any other man that I would want to over see our wedding, would you?"

"No, but if we tell him now he'll want to marry us now. Do have any idea how long he's been nipping at my heels about the two of us? 'Robin, when are you going to make an honest Lady out of Marion?' 'Robin, how did you anger Marion this time?' 'Robin, what are you-'"

"Okay, okay, okay! Alright, we'll hold off for now," Marion giggled, "but you know it won't take him long to pester you again about it. Once the night guards inform him that we were out all night, he'll come running."

"And that's when I'll tell him and ask him, but for now, we sleep!" Robin ushered her into the boundaries of the camp and waved to one of the watchers, letting him know they were friendly. After making sure of Robin and Marion's identity, the man waved back and continued his rounds. They walked across the yard, to Marion's tent and stopped outside, neither wanting the night to end but knowing that it had to.

"I'll see you in the morning," Marion squeezed his hand, not wanting to let go.

"It's morning now," Robin replied. And so it was. The first rays of light were just beginning to peak through the trees, "so, I'll see you later today." He smiled down at her and held her hand until she disappeared through the flap of her little hut. Standing outside, he smiled to himself, reflecting on their night. He couldn't remember a more peaceful one in a long time. Finally, finally things were set and settled between the two of them. As happy as that made him, he knew it could potentially make things harder now for them and their life. So much was threatened by two once powerful noble families. If those families were united...

Robin shook those thoughts from his mind. If trouble arose, he would deal with it. For now though, he slipped into his own hut and fell onto his bed, letting sleep take him while for the first time in a very long time, feeling happiness and contentment, and nothing else.