Marian wants to know whether Robin often uses hairpins of other girls for lockpicking. Not disapproving of her unexpected brashness, he is happy to respond to her innuendos.
Canonical scenes and a canon extension from 2x06 which are written from Robin and Marian's POVs.
Co-Authors are: Penelope Clemence and Lady of Knights.
This story is a Christmas gift for Coleen561 and other Robin fans
Disclaimer: We don't own BBC's Robin Hood or any of the show's characters. We have no rights to the canonical plots and storylines.
This is the tenth story in a series of one-shots. These one-shots can be found at the author profile for Lady of Knights, Coleen561, and Penelope Clemence.
1. Love is Disguised (Robin & Marian, episode 1x13, by Lady of Knights and Penelope Clemence)
2. The Reign of Love (Robin & Marian, episode 1x13, by Lady of Knights and Penelope Clemence)
3. The Wind of Freedom (Robin & Marian, episode 2x01, by Lady of Knights and Penelope Clemence)
4. Fuel For the Fire (Guy and Marian who is in a relationship with Robin, episode 2x01, by Coleen561 and Penelope Clemence)
5. The Poisonous Abyss (Guy and Robin who is in a relationship with Marian, episode 2x01, by Lady of Knights and Penelope Clemence)
6. Are you jealous? (Robin & Marian, episode 2x02, by Lady of Knights and Penelope Clemence)
7. A Glimmer of Embarrassment (Robin & Marian, episode 2x03, by Lady of Knights and Penelope Clemence)
8. No Longer Friends (Robin and Allan, episode 2x05, by Lady of Knights and Penelope Clemence)
9. Through the Waters of Purgatory (Guy and Marian who is in a relationship with Robin, episode 2x06, by Lady of Knights and Penelope Clemence)
Girls and Hairpins
The Castle of Nottingham, Marian's bedchamber, the scribe's room, and corridors
As he had jumped down from the ceiling and landed in front of Marian, Robin stared at her in spellbound fascination, as if she were a goddess of beauty and love incarnated as a mortal. He was also aware that she was a temperamental deity who could hurl a lightning bolt at others if she was in a foul mood, and now her temper could override her more rational side due to his extravagant appearance in her chamber. But the warmth and love in her eyes were foretelling a different story, and Robin marveled at her elegant features.
"Ah," breathed Robin, his visage imbued with mischief.
Marian felt her heart hammering harder in her chest, her breathing growing deeper, and her blood pumping through her veins; it was a familiar effect which Robin's appearances usually had on her. She was overflowing with ineffable joy to see her beloved again; it was so rare when they had such precious moments together. Moments snatched away from the care, burdens, and pressures of the world which left them better equipped to tackle even the toughest challenges. She feared that she wouldn't contain her happiness, but they needed to concentrate because something was obviously going on in the castle.
Her impulse was to share her ebullient happiness with Robin and embrace him, and to forsake what was not him or connected with him. Nevertheless, she reminded herself that her duty was more important than anything else. A slow smile spread across her features as she gazed into Robin's eyes warmly. "What are you doing here?"
"Just dropping in on you," declared Robin, his grin flourishing into a full-faced smile. In a moment, however, his face became serious, and he walked over to the window. As he stopped and looked out, he stated, "So, the Black Knights are assembling."
Marian followed him to the window. He had been in her room while she had been talking to Guy, which made things simpler as she didn't have to rehearse her conversation with Gisborne. "Did you hear Gisborne? They're signing an important document."
He observed three soldiers loading someone's body onto a cart below the window. After a moment's silence, he questioned, "Who died?"
"Oh, the sheriff's scribe," she answered. "Fell from the battlements."
Robin flicked his gaze to her and growled bitterly, "Outlived his usefulness."
Marian raised a quizzical brow. "What?"
His expression was concentrated and significant as he evaluated the situation. "Dead scribes? Black Knights? Something tells me we have to find this document." He stared at her expectantly, and there was an unspoken plea for help in his alarmed eyes.
She regarded him knowingly. "You know that I will always assist you, Robin. I'm staying in the castle to collect intelligence for you so that we can stop the sheriff."
"Not to be closer to Gisborne?" he blurted out, unexpectedly for himself. He regretted the words almost at once; he berated himself for being unable to curb his jealousy.
Marian's expression instantly changed into irritation, and she fired back, "Why do you always bring Gisborne into our conversations?" She trailed off and sighed, as her pulse started to vibrate, for his closeness to her intensified all her emotions. She leaned into him and glanced into his eyes that were now darkening with desire. "Don't the things we did together…" She paused for a heartbeat, blushing a bit and struggling with her natural embarrassment. "…confirm my feelings for you, Robin?"
A tender smile curved his mouth as his eyes took in her flushed features. "Yes, my love. And I am sorry for my jealousy." As a sly twinkle lit up his eyes, he said playfully, "But I thought that you like when I am jealous?"
Her hand ran up his back and threaded into the curvy hairs at the base of his neck. "Oh, yes, Robin, I do like it!" she exclaimed with a vibrant smile. Her eyes twinkling impishly, she gripped his hair and tugged slightly, causing him to wince, although his smile widened. "The only thing more frustrating than our bickering is your foolish jealousy to Gisborne."
Robin moved closer to her, and now his hands were on her waist. "Actually, I like our bickering as it communicates your true opinion of me." Gently, he kissed the corner of her lips and then murmured, "I know what you think of me: I'm foolish, arrogant, reckless, yet heroic, brave, noble-minded, and just perfect. But you love these qualities of mine!"
"You are infuriating and so full of yourself," teased Marian.
He teased her back, "Oh, I know! But tell me more! I want to get an earful from you!"
Marian's eyes flashed with a hint of regret. "Not now."
As his arms enveloped her like a protective cocoon, Robin whispered, "Even if I get through the day by the skin of my teeth, I want to do something else before we go."
Not giving her time to talk and question him further, Robin's lips found hers as he took them for a deep, passionate, and scorching kiss. His hands were roaming over her back, slow and lazy, fingers trailing like feathers along the smooth material of her gown, from the nape of her neck to her hips. Her right hand fiddling with his hair and the other gliding down his back, Marian pressed herself closer to him, yearning for him and encouraging him to probe his tongue deeper into her mouth. Robin was kissing her with a passionate intensity that plunged them both into a sensual land inhabited only by lovers.
As he broke the kiss and looked into her eyes, Robin boldly proclaimed, "Maybe today it's my turn for the lions' den. Maybe I'll have to face awful dangers. But now I'm not afraid."
Marian laughed at him. "Did a fevered urgency of some kind rule you, Robin?"
"Urgency and feelings," he claimed; the bright fire in his eyes was like a rising sun.
"I know," she murmured, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks.
Still holding her in his arms, Robin jested, "A wave of embarrassment?"
Marian extricated herself from his grasp. "You are at fault, Robin Hood," she admitted huskily. "We have to go."
A dejected Robin assented, "Yes, let's go."
They hastily left the room and closed the door, stopping only for a moment as if not knowing what to do next. The journey down the hallways was quieter than they both would have liked, and their senses were running on full alert. Robin sneaked down the corridor after Marian who was hurrying to a pillar, where she paused and gazed around to ascertain that they hadn't been spotted. Then she motioned for him to go in another hallway.
Breaking the silence, Marian enlightened, "This is it. The scribe's room."
Robin swiftly crossed the corridor and stopped near the heavy wooden doors; Marian was following him. As he rested his bow on the jamb and wanted to say something, they suddenly heard guards coming down the adjacent hall.
One of the guards told his comrades, "Come on. Stupid guests."
Robin pulled Marian against the columns and pressed her very close, as if they could become one body. She blushed a bit as their pose brought to her mind the recent night of untamed passion he had spent in her bedroom. Having gauged her thoughts, he was biting his lower lip to preclude himself from laughing outright. Marian shot him an annoyed look, for this very man, who was completely unembarrassed and reveled in the knowledge of his effect on her, frequently drove her temper over the edge.
As the guards walked past them, one of them asserted, "Better get a move on then."
"Yeah, down at the front gate again on guard."
"Yeah, he doesn't like to be kept waiting, does he?"
Robin and Marian were awash in relief as the guards disappeared from sight. Her head was still turned in the direction of where they had left, and he noticed her large hairpin that was holding her hair up. His eyes sparkling with mischief like a naughty child's, he underhandedly removed the hairpin, and the gorgeous waves of her dark hair cascaded down her shoulders like a midnight waterfall, enhancing her beauty.
Feeling her hair fall, Marian reached back to secure the hairpin and instantaneously figured out that it was gone. Looking at a grinning Robin, she saw a glint of tease in his blue eyes, and her heart fluttered merrily, like a bird's wings. Her hero was still the same disobedient and fun-loving boy who had chased her in Sherwood in childhood and whom she had fallen in love with years ago; that realization filled her with warmth.
"Robin, this isn't the time," she chided, but a small smile was quivering around her lips.
Chuckling richly, Robin showed her the hairpin and then inserted it into the lock. Most of his pranks were harmless little things and snarky, yet not meaningless, barbs, like his habit of teasing her outrageously, pouncing on all opportunities to purr his innuendos, although it also had well-established limits after years of practice.
"Will that work?" she questioned.
His lips were arranged in a sly smile. "Trust me. I've done this before."
Marian was accustomed to his dry and quirky sense of humor which both irked her and caused her to feel like bursting with excitement. But he had touched on a topic that was like a festering sore that wouldn't go away – her secret jealousy of him to other women. She was cognizant that he hadn't been chaste at all, and he had probably tasted the most immodest and exotic pleasures with women whom he had met during his absence in England; each of them must have given him a sensual pleasure with a garden of immoral intimate caresses and an abundance of vigorous maneuverings in bed.
She masked her jealousy with a grin. "With which girl's hairpin?"
Robin smiled sarcastically at her wiles as the lock clicked loudly, but he also sensed her discontent and sighed. He then grabbed his bow, opened the door and ushered Marian in, and they entered the scribe's chamber. She rapidly stepped over to a podium and grabbed a large parchment; he stopped behind her, took it from her hands, and unrolled it.
"The Great Pact of Nottingham," he pronounced in an agitated voice.
Holding their breaths, Robin and Marian exchanged puzzled glances. They watched the Black Knights arriving in the central courtyard in small groups and present their rings at the gate, then headed to the castle's front door. They both paled, their hearts palpitating with fear, and a sense of peril was emitted by each and every fiber of their bodies.
Robin veered his gaze to the parchment. Regaining his composure with colossal effort, he read aloud, "We, all the undersigned, by the fixing of our seals of office and nobility, hereby undertake to remove King Richard from the throne. By his lasting absence from these shores, he has demonstrated his scant regard for the welfare of his subjects–" He broke off, feeling as if ice water were pouring down his back, and he gasped in shock. As he recovered a bit, a horrified Robin cried out, "This is outrageous!"
Marian dipped her head in agreement. As she brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, she continued reading. "We further undertake to replace the said Richard with his brother, John…" Her voice halted for a few moments as she looked at Robin in alarm. She then added, "…prince of the realm."
He concluded, "The sheriff is making the Black Knights sign their allegiance."
She scanned the document once more. "This is a traitor's charter."
He tilted his head, and his eyes skimmed over the text again. "It looks like the sheriff has made some new friends." He pointed at the names. "Buckingham, Spencer..."
Marian gasped in astonishment mingled with terror. "Winchester? Surely not. He's an old friend of my father."
Robin and Marian stared at each other, contemplating the situation and wondering how they could steal the pact. As they heard a door slam, they hurriedly hid themselves; when the chance arose, they found their way out of the room without being seen.
As they stopped in the corridor, Marian's face was so close that Robin could feel her breath on his skin, warm as spring sunshine. He couldn't help but think about Marian instead of the perilous predicaments they were facing. Driven by his overpowering passion for her, he found himself kissing her, hungrily and demandingly, the movements of his tongue inside her mouth wild and almost desperate. Flashbacks of the recent night they had spent together aroused him more, and he devoured her mouth until his almost feral passions, which he knew dominated them both, were momentarily appeased.
As he drew back and stared into her dazed eyes, Robin remained quiet until the fierce sensations that had consumed him gradually ebbed. "Marian," he whispered lovingly, a dreamy smile hovering over his lips. "Marian," he repeated her name, savoring the sound.
Her eyes full of delight, Marian murmured thickly, "It was very unwise of me to allow all these violent emotions to loosen that night."
He grinned wickedly at her. "It was the best thing you have ever done, Marian!"
"Prove it again," she provoked him.
When their mouths met once more, Marian was trembling with the force of her desire for him and of the unleashed passion which Robin's kisses had freed within her. Despite the dangers lurking in the shadows, she seemed to be oblivious to them when she was in his strong arms, and she was eager for whatever he would do to her. When they were together, nothing else mattered, and she was not mindful of perils, pitfalls, and troubles; she didn't even admit that they could be discovered at any moment. There was only her Robin, and the world and everything else in it had faded away.
Marian groaned in frustration as they parted, and she bit down on her lower lip softly. But when Robin attempted to have their lips reunited once again, she pulled away and glowered at him. All her jealousy painted plainly all over her countenance, she asked in a half-humorous, half-reprehensive voice, "So, now tell me Robin Hood, how many girls gave you hairpins so that you could use them to slip into their bedrooms?"
Robin burst out laughing, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "It is an interrogation? You are acting like a jealous wife castigating her husband for flirting with other women!"
Her befuddled expression was priceless. "A jealous wife?"
His thumb tenderly caressed her cheek. "Yes, my love."
Her puzzlement was replaced by her embarrassment, and then by her anger at him. "Confess now!" she demanded as she narrowed her eyes slightly.
Robin emitted a nervous sigh. "I might have an unpleasant falling out with you, but we are grown and wise; you will understand me. I had other women while I was away, but probably not as many as you tend to think." He paused, watching the subtle changes in her demeanor and half-expecting her to slap him. But as he didn't see a trace of ire in her eyes and countenance, he smiled broadly and jovially. "But you are the only woman who has ever meant anything – without exaggeration, the whole world – to me!" he supplied, the love he felt for her blindingly apparent from the expression on his handsome face.
In the Holy Land, his noble dreams about his king's triumph over the infidels and about winning laurels of glory for himself had been shattered by bloody war and brutal violence. Living and breathing only in rare moments when he hadn't swung his sword at Saracens on the battlefield, he had allowed himself to enjoy life in those few hours between battles. During his service in the Holy Land, Robin had embarked on some casual love affairs, successful or otherwise, and a female touch had helped him feel a little more alive. But it had often seemed to him that he had been in a state of perpetual crimson hallucination, as Christian and Saracen blood had flowed like rivers rushing to the Mediterranean Sea.
His mind had floated back to Marian whenever he had been free, especially in the dead of night when he had lain on his hard makeshift bed in his tent, his mind tormented by the horrors he had seen and by the remembrance of all the atrocities he had carried out with his scimitar. In the moments when there had been an impenetrable gloom in his heart, Robin had remembered Marian, his thoughts about her like the morning, warm, bright, and fresh, yet distant. His heart was not in the holy war which he had fought for his king, not for the Lord: it was in Locksley, and his thoughts were nearly always focused on home.
Although most of his dreams were nightmares tinged with the color blood red, Robin had also dreamed of Marian, of her sapphire blue eyes reflecting her dismay and rage as he had voiced his decision to go to war. He had imagined her long, dark hair which he had liked to touch and tangle his fingers into when they had shared several chaste kisses during their courtship. Often, Robin had pondered the possibility of a reunion with Marian, wondering whether she had been waiting for him; fearing that she had met a man who could have awakened love in her young heart which he had broken. But a large part of Robin knew that he owned Marian's heart, as she had once told him.
Vistas of memories of the young Marian had flashed in Robin's mind, sending the heart of a weary, troubled warrior to race. She had been a graceful young lady of such an ethereal loveliness that he had always found himself breathless staring into her stunning face. When his mind had conjured pictures of their next meeting, Robin had thought that Marian must have grown up into an even more beautiful young woman. She remained the bewitching creature who had such a strong hold over him despite time and distance. It was Marian's face Robin had remembered most vividly; not even Locksley, but her face.
In that godforsaken corner of the earth, darkness mingled with light, blood, and tears, and with something that lived in Robin – his inner void. Those uplifting memories of Marian had fostered hope for a better future in him. He had wished that Marian had sent him letters from time to time; they would have been reminders of more exuberant and happier times, and Robin would have hoarded them, treasuring each one dearly, more than a soldier treasured a flask of water in the desert, more than anything else in his life. But Marian had never contacted him, as the strife between them, caused by his decision to go to war, was on a scale never known to them both before. Robin's affairs only increased his spiritual starvation for his true love.
Now Robin was in Nottingham, and Marian still loved him. No other woman would ever possess Robin's heart and soul: Marian was his love and life, and she was his greatest strength as well. Despite the years of separation, their young love was fresh like dew on the cool, white petal of a flower, and also pure like the purity of their noble hearts.
Like the changing wisdom of successive generations discards ideas and questions facts, Robin was reassessing his life, his principles, and his priorities, often wondering whether he should just take Marian away from Nottingham and to live only for her instead of fighting for his people and his absentee king. But Robin did not have the sort of leeway other people could afford to enjoy, did not have the same sort of freedoms.
He was Robin Hood. His spirit belonged to a realm surpassing time as he represented the ideals of freedom and equality which would live long after his physical death. But he was a legend of England suspected of using girls' hairpins for lockpicking.
Marian's voice took him out of his short reverie, and Robin listened to her words like someone listens to the tone of some musical instrument without heeding the tune. He smiled at the thought that her voice was fit to express the most exquisite feelings.
Marian smiled gratefully, beaming with a light of love and joy. Her eyes were shining more brightly, as if the sun had just broken through a mist. "Thank you, Robin." Her voice had a soft, wondering lilt to it as she teased, "So, how many girls and hairpins?"
Robin grinned flamboyantly. "Only your hairpins, my love." As she playfully swatted him on the back of his head, he burst out laughing and continued their banter. "I love all creatures but some take a lot of time for me to get close to them, and I didn't have enough time in Acre. And the design of your hairpins is the best I have ever seen."
Her smile was both vexed and frolicsome at the same time. With a jaunty air about her, she promised, "One day, you will pay, Robin of Locksley."
"Marian," Robin called lovingly. The sound of her name aroused soul-stirring emotions within him, and a feeling of pure love overflowed him. "Only you own my heart."
Her features broke into a smile of innocent, girlish happiness. She claimed with an odd shyness, "And you own mine!"
He reminded, "We need to go." He flashed his most superior smile at her and lamented, half-serious, half-mocking, "We must leave right now. If I stay with you longer, I will be hopelessly enslaved by a pair of your lovely eyes! What will happen to my reputation of a brave hero then? What will girls think of Robin Hood? They will not give me hairpins!"
Marian flung back, "You are becoming boring, Robin. You have said that you have been using only my hairpins for lockpicking. Or have you been lying to me all this time?"
"I'm not a liar, Marian," Robin responded seriously. His thumb traced the line of her lush lips and slid from her face, down her chin to her throat. He joked, "It was a wonderful experience, my love. Now I will always associate hairpins with your jealousy."
"And with the Pact of Nottingham," she pointed out, her face shadowed by sadness.
At this, Robin announced, "We have to meet with Sir Edward and talk to him about the Earl of Winchester. I know how to go to the dungeons without being recognized. I saw a charming disguise in your wardrobe a few days ago." He lapsed into silence and smiled. Nevertheless, all of a sudden, he found himself fearful that something might not go right for him and Marian today, but he didn't verbalize his apprehension.
Marian nodded. "Very good. Lead us, Robin."
They hurried down the corridor and paused at the end for a split second. After looking around to ensure they were still alone, they headed back to Marian's bedchamber, where Robin would disguise himself as a priest so that they could pay a visit to Sir Edward.