Robin Hood Kittenfluff
ladykate63: or maybe I'll write a piece of fluff in which Guy gives Marian a kitten.
Me: Heeee! I'll eat that up.
Me: Please have the kitten stick its claws up Marian's nose and make it bleed.
Me: I mean, he WOULD give Marian a kitten.
ladykate63: He'd probably just shove it at her.
Me: But then the kitten would claw her, and Guy would hold his breath, and Marian would laugh.
Me: And then Guy would kiss away the blood and they'd start making out and the poor forgotten kitten would go knock over every pottery jar in the kitchen.
ladykate63: There you go!
ladykate63: YOU, my dear, should be writing G/M + kitten fluff!

So, LadyKate, this is for you ... written without a beta at one thirty in the morning. And dedicated, of course, to Scully the Crazed Hyperkitty who just had to be kicked out of the sink ... again ... (disclaimer: not mine, no money, yada yada)

Little Things
by Alicia

Guy had never courted a girl before.

Loved one, yes. More than once, which was all more than he would admit. Ladies were to produce noble-born heirs; wenches were for fulfilling one's own needs, and love was weakness. Period.

Guy actually hadn't been sure if he'd believed that even before Marian. Not considering the looks he'd seen in Annie's eyes, a very few times, a combination of beauty and vulnerability that had made him want to stand between her and the entire world and protect her. That, of course, was a feeling he could not feel.

He felt it every time he looked into Marian's eyes, however. She had strength, and coldness, and pain. Guy had demonstrated his power over Marian when he had burned her house and confined her to the castle shadowed by one of his goons. He protected her. And he didn't understand why he wanted to do more. Why he wanted to see that same look of trust in Marian's eyes as he had seen in Annie's, so very long ago.

"Sir Guy" a servant boy said, interrupting Guy's thoughts.

"What?" Guy snarled.

The boy looked terrified. That could be a good sign, or it could simply mean things were normal. "Sir Guy, the old barn cat went off and had another litter in the stables, and now we can't move the horses past the big stall."

At least, the kid probably would have said that if Guy had not cut him off at 'stall.' "And you are troubling me with this because? Throw the brat into the well and clean my stables!"

"Yes, sir," the child said, and he made as if to scamper away.

"Wait," Guy said. He thought of Marian. Part of her beauty ... part of what Guy wanted to be for her, he wanted her to cleanse him, yes, but he also wanted to be trusted and trustworthy with her pain. And perhaps a small creature might persuade her to open up, might persuade her to love him. He remembered how Marian had looked when she had seen the horse he had given her. "Move the litter to my quarters instead."

"Sir Guy? We can't move them for at least another day."

"It is fair weather, can we care for some of the horses outside until then?"

"Aye, but ..."

"Figure it out," Guy said shortly. "Just don't tell Vaisey anything about this."

He left as another bewildered "Aye" echoed through the courtyard.

~

Even with their mama right beside them, kittens were still extremely noisy houseguests, Guy discovered. They cried when there was nothing to cry about. They batted things around at all hours of the night. They were also ... such fragile creatures. Two weeks after Guy began his career as host to kitty family, the smallest kitten died.

Trying not to think about what Vaisey would say if he discovered Guy's menagerie (and failing that, constructing as many cruel bird references as he could should he need them), Guy buried it beside the entrance to the woods. There were three more kittens, after all, plenty to choose one to give Marian.

Two days later another kitten died, though. And then another. Perhaps it was the wrong time of year, perhaps the barn cat hadn't had enough to eat, perhaps the litter had been moved too quickly after all - since Vaisey had come within a hair of discovering them as it was. Perhaps kittens were simply too fragile. Nothing that wasn't strong could survive. Vaisey had taught Guy that for as long as they had worked together.

When the barn cat herself began to weaken, Guy prepared to scrap his entire plan and find another way to woo the ever-more-distant Marian.

But then a tiny grey tabby kitten began to run, to pounce and explore.

~

Guy estimated that the little creature was just over eight weeks old when he took it from his room (finally sending the barn cat back to the stables in the process), wrapped it in a blanket, and went in search of Marian. There would be no time for an elaborate charade with a blindfold. Marian looked haunted, Guy was out of breath for fear that Vaisey would find him, and Vaisey was tramping around somewhere on the castle battlements yelling something about finding Robin Hood.

Marian looked ... well, worse than usual, when Guy finally caught up with her in a corridor just outside her quarters. "Marian," Guy said.

"Sir Guy, this is not a good time," Marian made as if to push around him.

"I got you a gift," he growled. After all he had put up with these past two months indeed.

Marian looked at the bundle in his arms and her eyes widened. "It is not a baby..."

"No, of course not. May I come in?"

Marian sighed, and in that moment all the cares of the castle seemed to drain out of her, and Guy wanted to take her in his arms and make everything all right. "Yes."

Guy followed Marian inside. She waited, an look of expectation on her face. Guy stammered, "I thought you would like ... I know you like horses, and humor is sorely missed ... here," Guy said, and he unceremoniously pulled off the blanket and thrust the grey kitten into Marian's arms.

She took it, and there was mingled wonder and disbelief in her eyes. The kitten immediately purred like an advancing storm cloud, then, with one deft motion, swiped its paw across Marian's face.

A single drop of blood ran down Marian's nose.

Guy froze.

The kitten continued to purr and bat at Marian's face.

Marian laughed. A tinkling sound with a real current of joy underneath, a sound that Guy hadn't heard in ... what felt like years. And in that moment he was her protector, and it felt wonderful.

Marian waved her hand in front of the tiny kitten, and continued to laugh as the kitten continued to swat.

She was so beautiful.

Guy fought the urge at first, but finally allowed himself to wipe the blood from Marian's nose with his hand.

Marian caught the hand. And looked at him.

She wanted him to protect her. She wanted him to kiss her.

And slowly, Guy bent down to do just that. He moved at the speed of molasses (completely opposite the now-braver kitten), asking permission with each movement. Marian met his lips.

There was a long moment ... just long enough to become lost in one another ... and then there was a crash from the bedstand as the previously-arranged vase of flowers went crashing to the floor.

Guy and Marian looked up simultaneously. Then they chased the kitten.