Author: albaKonst

Summary: This is a description of a scene in Series 1 Episode 7 – Brothers in Arms. Robin comes to Marian's window when he is trying to decide whether to save Allan's brother or not. All text replica of that in the TV series. One Shot.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. I do not own any of the characters in the following story. Unfortunately. If only...

Title: Brief is Life but Love is Long (Alfred, Lord Tennyson)

Marian. He'll go to Marian. Of course he will. But he doesn't know that yet.

It is a glorious day in early summer, and Robin is exhausted. He has just talked to his men. Allan's brother has, predictably, gone and got himself caught. Robin curses himself for not throwing him out after the Knighton Hall debacle. He doesn't really know why he didn't. This man endangered Marian's life. He doesn't know what made him give him another chance. Yes, Allan had asked him to, and yes, Allan is a valued friend, but, well, Marian's more than that; always has been. But she is forgiving. She wouldn't have wanted him to just throw those men out with nothing. At least with them as part of the gang they won't go thieving from innocent Locksley villagers, Robin consoles himself. But they still managed to try and thieve from Marian, didn't they?

Marian, Robin thinks. He'll go to Marian. She'll know what to do. And besides, he always goes to Marian. Why break tradition?

Robin runs nonchalantly round the back of Knighton Village, ducking into the dappled sunlight under the trees to avoid being seen. Checking for any signs of life behind him, he turns to face Marian's window and whistles softly. The life in the forest made one used to watching one's back, and Robin sometimes wished it was not so. He stood waiting, hands on hips, for her to appear at the window. She soon did, and let out a half-hearted sort of laugh. Looking down at him, she grinned.

Robin stares up at her. She is in a white night-gown, her hair, still short from the Sheriff's latest form of humiliation, bounces around her glowing cheeks. She looks splendidly naive and feminine; not very night-watchman-like at all (silly Gisbourne).

"What do you want?" she enquires, chuckling softly.

"To talk." Robin replies indignantly. Being an outlaw makes him much too pleased with himself, Marian muses, half irritated half affectionate.

" So talk." It is good to be higher than him for once. In charge.

Robin does not seem to like this method of talking. He jogs forwards, grinning mischievously. Taking hold of an iron bar that protrudes from the house, he deftly swings himself up and round until facing Marian's window still holding the bar. He steps lightly onto a wooden buttress on the side of the house, at right angles to her window, and climbs round until standing on the wooden boards below the sill. He leans against the open shutters, which are flung wide to let in the strong summer sun. He makes to climb into her bedroom. Marian has some severe déjà vu of a time before Robin left, when he had surprised her like this often, almost daily, just appearing in her room, always secretly hoping to catch her whilst still dressing. If only those times had continued. If only he hadn't gone off glory-hunting. No, it is different now, Marian sternly reminds herself, just as he is almost clambering over the sill. Oh well, She may not be able to deny loving him, but she can deny him the right to come into her bed chamber.

" Ah! You can talk from there." Robin looks defeated, for once, but laughs quietly. Marian shifts her night gown to sit comfortably on the window, clutching to one of the vertical beams. They gaze into each other's eyes lovingly and smile in spite of themselves.

" What?" Marian questions him suspiciously.

" Nothing." He is indignant, again.

" You were looking at me." She realises how stupid it sounds as soon as the words are out of her mouth, and the corners of her mouth twitch.

" It's just the way my eyes were pointing." Cocky know-it-all, she inwardly groans tenderly.

Another moment passes between them, and words fly unsaid.

It dawns on Robin that now might be a good time to apologise for Allan's brother's foolish antics. "I'm sorry about yesterday." He does look truly sorry; very caring. "How's your father?"

Marian wants nothing more than to forget the fearful fiasco yesterday. She tells herself it is because she does not want to dwell on how much it could have harmed her father, but really it is because she doesn't want to face the fact that some of Robin's men tried to harm her. She ignores the question pointedly. "I hear your men are going to hang." She is provoking him; tempting him to rescue them.

" They're not my men."

" They were your men last night." They are, as always, back to pointless banter.

" The Sheriff is hanging them in my name, hoping I'll turn up to rescue them. But my men think it's a trap. Has your good friend Guy of Gisbourne said anything to you?" Robin is bitter. Marian does not miss the 'good friend...', nor the expression that accompanies it like smoke from an ever-burning fire.

She ignores his meaningful words "I think he was a little preoccupied. But I will go to the castle to see what I can find out."

Robin is troubled. Marian wants to lean out the window and wrap him in her arms and envelop his worries and take them for him and permit him to forget. He voices his anxieties "If I do not rescue them, people will think I cannot protect my men." He shakes his head to get rid of the burden that plagues his head like flies "Do I risk us all to save them?"

As much as she enjoys him asking for her council, this is a tricky one. "You are a good man, Robin. Nothing will change that."

Robin is vaguely shocked. Did she just actually complement him? Without hitting him or yelling at him or challenging him to a sword fight or some such like? Impossible.

Marian sighs. Perhaps she should not have said that. She muses on the fact that she's pretty sure his head just swelled to twice the size it was five minutes ago.

Robin seizes the moment – a very Robin thing to do. He leans forward towards to window, his breath taken by her beauty and his love and this moment. He wants to kiss her so much, and goes for it. She almost kisses him back, but something stops her. She hesitates for his own safety, she tells herself: Best not let his head swell much more; it would make him a much easier target for the Sheriff's men. She smiles at the thought. She takes his cheek in her hand and he sighs dejectedly. The tingling feeling of his strong jaw in her hand makes her regrets her decision, for a moment; how did he always manage to get that perfectly few-days-old stubble look and feel that he knew she couldn't resist? He taunted her and she knew it. Now she returned the favour. It might do him good to have to wait over the object of his affections for once.

"Uh uh." Marian tuts wickedly and giggles. "That won't help you make your decision." Knowing him, he had probably forgotten about said decision already.

" It might!" You wish, she thinks.

"It won't!" She tells him like scolding a naughty schoolboy. Laughing, but inwardly somewhat more dejected, he turns and nimbly scrambles down to ground level. He swings off the bar with ease and lands lightly on the dirt path leading away from Knighton Hall and towards the forest. Marian watches him as she goes and can't help but smile. For a moment, she thinks 'Who cares if he went away. He's back! And he'll stay back!' She is elated, though just as he turns the corner leading round the house he looks back at her. In his eyes there is happiness, affection, love even. But there is also a passionate wildness; a need to be free and not held down by constraints of society such as marital obligation. She loves this side of him, but knows it is the side that, every day – every passing moment – it is what keeps him from her.