Title: Runs in the Family
Rating: T
Summary: Marian goes to their hiding place to discover something is missing. Set 18 years after "Husbanding England."
Disclaimer: I do not hold any ownership over the BBC's version of Robin Hood.
Author's Note: I don't know where this idea came from. But I hope you enjoy it! Beta'd by the lovely musical-penguins. A review from you would be lovely, even if you don't like it!
O0O0O
It was Thursday night, the family was settling in to sleep, or so it would seem to an outsider. If they were a normal family, one of them would not be opening a hiding place in the floor boards and pulling out a costume of black with a mask and a kerchief.
No one ever accused Earl Robin of Locksley or Countess Marian of Locksley and Knighton of being normal.
Robin shut the bedroom door behind him, and looked over to where his wife was scrounging in the hiding place. But to his confusion, she did not seem to be removing anything.
"Robin, did you move the Nightwatchman disguise?" she hissed at him, confusion and worry coloring her face.
He shook his head, "Is it not there?"
She stood abruptly and kicked the floor board back into its proper place.
It had started after their marriage, the continued adventures of the Nightwatchman. Neither were quite satisfied at how the shire was recovering. It was a slow regain of trust in the establishment, people still lived in fear. So Marian and Robin began taking turns going out as the Nightwatchman. Eventually they were able to cut down the time they spent going out into the night, but still "watched" once a week, still taking turns. Not only was there less need for the Nightwatchman, there was less danger involved. Those who benefited from it were unlikely to unmask him, perhaps afraid the visits would stop.
Still, who could have taken the disguise?
Marian glanced at Robin, and without speaking, they quit the room, Robin to pay a visit to their sons, Marian to their daughters.
"Downstairs, please," Marian told her daughters. "Something of value is missing from our room, and I am searching for it in here. Your father is searching your brothers'. Though if you are guilty of taking it, I suggest you confess," she warned, standing by the door.
Joan looked bewildered; she could not conceive of deceit in any of her loved ones. She was twelve years old, but looked so much younger with her dark hair and wide blue eyes.
Katherine looked calm; indeed few things had ruffled her calm visage in all her eighteen years, so unlike her father whose looks she inherited.
Eleanor looked… guilty. There was no way around it. This surprised Marian; though she knew her youngest was the romantic type, more like the father she favored. She could perfectly imagine Eleanor taking to the woods… but the child was only 10 years old.
As she passed Marian at the door, she sputtered, "Mother! It was me, I took your combs, I intended on returning them!"
Marian sighed. "I shall take them from you later, Eleanor. While I appreciate your honesty, it is not the combs I am searching for.
She had just begun the search when Robin came into the room.
"Have you found it already?"
"No," said Robin, "But I have noticed that our eldest son is missing."
"Well it certainly took you a while to notice."
He rolled his eyes. "Peter told me Geoffrey had gone out to the privy, so I escorted him downstairs. He has not returned."
Marian sighed. "Then I doubt very much that we will find the disguise in this house."
"Shall we go interrogate them?" Robin asked.
"I suppose we had better," she said, glancing around the room once more, as if looking for some sign that Geoffrey had not taken off. After finding none, she took Robin's arm and the two went down to the hall.
The children in question were clustered around the dining table. Katherine looked regal next to the fidgeting Peter. If Marian thought Eleanor looked guilty, it was nothing compared to her fair haired son.
"Where is Geoffrey?" asked Marian calmly, sitting on the other side of Peter. He was just eleven, and strived to be just like his older brother. Marian doubted if she would get him to confess. But she had to try.
Peter shrugged, and Joan said blithely, "Peter said he was using the privy." As if that settled the matter, as if she had failed to notice that it was taking him a very long time indeed.
Robin sat at the head of the table and looked sternly at the children gathered there. Marian wrapped an arm around Peter, who was shivering with his secret. The girls looked interested, but they did not look like they were implicated in Geoffrey's adventure.
"Ladies, you may go back to your room," said Robin after a few long moments.
"Eleanor, I shall take my combs back tomorrow. You are to go straight to bed, getting up again will not be acceptable. We have something of importance to discuss with your brothers."
"Good night," they murmured respectfully, though Eleanor's eyes were alight with the mystery of what exactly was going to happen. Marian was sure that she would find out soon enough. If Geoffrey had done what she and Robin suspected, well, the whole house would find out. Lucky they were spending the summer months in Knighton; there were generally less people underfoot at her family house than his.
When Marian heard the door upstairs close, she turned to her son.
"I think that it has become obvious your brother is not in the privy," she pointed out.
Robin was still sizing up his youngest son. "Peter, I admire your loyalty to your brother. But I think perhaps it is misguided in this case. How long has he been sneaking out the window?"
Peter shook his head and buried his face in Marian's bosom.
Marian was just about to try another tactic, when they heard the creaking of floorboards directly above her head. Where her sons slept. In an instant, Robin had jumped up and was stalking up the stairs. Peter burrowed further, afraid of the coming confrontation.
She heard her husband murmuring sternly, and Geoffrey's reply.
"You are not in trouble, Peter. And we will not allow you to be in trouble with Geoff, either," she tried to assure her son. He pulled out of the hug and scooted down the bench, as if hoping not to appear on her side when Geoffrey saw him.
It did not seem to matter. Geoffrey was dressed head to foot in black, the kerchief was around his neck, and Robin carried the mask.
"You told, you little runt," Geoffrey hissed at his brother.
Peter looked hurt. "I did not! Not a word! Ask Katherine, ask anyone!"
Robin looked furious. "Believe it or not, Peter did not break your trust. But my powers of observation are not dulled by age, as you might suspect!"
"Peter, to bed, please," said Marian.
He did not need further encouragement. She had never seen anyone want to go to sleep so badly.
"Sit," she told Geoffrey in a tone that broke no argument.
He sat heavily across from her, mutiny in his eye.
"How long have you known?" she asked.
"About the Nightwatchman?" he scoffed. "Nearly always. We all know. Our powers of observation are not limited by our age," he threw Robin's words back at him. Robin banged his fist on the table.
"That is enough insolence from you," he warned.
Marian rolled her eyes. Really, they were too much alike to see eye to eye. Ironic. But each liked to have the last word. Marian hoped this would not be another argument that lasted well into the night. Geoffrey was right, though. She should have realized they would have guessed who the Nightwatchman was. The countryside was full of his exploits, as much as they were full of Sir Robin the Crusader and Robin Hood, the outlaw.
"Geoff, why did you take the disguise? What did you hope to accomplish?" Marian asked, trying to keep the anger from her voice.
He shrugged, determined to ignore the question. Marian sighed.
Robin was pacing like a caged animal.
"I do not know why you are upset," said Geoffrey, "I am only doing what you do!"
Robin sat down again, though was still fidgeting.
"Because this work is something that we do not take lightly! It is not work for a brash 17 year old boy!"
"How old were you when you went on crusade?" Geoffrey demanded.
"Nineteen," said Marian. "And two years makes a difference."
Robin looked at her, slightly surprised, he knew she did not actually feel that way about his leaving for the Holy Land.
"Your father is right. This is not work we take lightly. We champion the poor all the time, it is not something we do to pass the time at night. We make plans, we know where the other is going to be, what families we are going to be visiting."
She was struck with how young Geoffrey looked. He was crestfallen when reality hit him in the face.
"And you need to understand the implications of being caught. We still have enemies from before you were born. They are in the woodwork, but they might not hesitate to harm you."
"But you have taught me to fight!" Geoffrey tried to defend himself.
"And yet I can still best you in a fight," Marian pointed out gently.
"That is not fair. You both are experts," Geoffrey said petulantly.
"And our enemies would be beginners?" Robin asked.
Marian sighed again. She was tired, and tired of fighting. "Geoffrey, just give back the disguise. We shall keep this incident quiet; you shall not punish your brother. He did not betray you in the slightest. But might I suggest you learn about the poor you are trying to help?"
He nodded slowly.
"Excellent. I am going up to bed. Give the disguise to your father, and get to bed yourself."
O0O0O
Later, in bed, Marian told him, "He takes after you, you know."
"I was thinking the same thing. He takes after you."
"You old fool," she said, teasing his beard in between her fingers. "I have never been outlawed. You were the one who took to the crusades, or the forest, without a thought in the world for me."
"That is unfair, Marian. You know that I never stopped thinking of you." She could see he was being serious.
She gave in. "I know."
"I always thought of you, worried for you. I would do anything for you, for our children."
"I know that too," she said, then pinched his cheek. "But it is still my turn next week."
"How do you figure that?"
"Your son stole my turn, it is only fair that I get to go next week,"
"Oh really?" he grinned and rolled her underneath him.
"Really," she said and wriggled her hips.
He groaned, causing her to giggle.
"I can get you to agree to anything," she whispered in his ear.
"No you cannot," he dared.
"Oh really?" she ran her fingers down his chest and under his night shirt.
A little while later, he was forced to admit that, in fact, she could get him to agree to anything.