Title: Once Upon A Summer's Eve
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Marian/Allan (no that's not a typo)
Spoilers: None really. Very minor ones for one throwaway line
Summary: Set shortly before Robin's return...A harvest festival celebration on a warm late summer evening is just what a weary Marian needs.

The harvest moon was full and bright in the sky; so much so that the lanterns were almost unnecessary. Its spell seemed to be magnetic and its allure hypnotising for since she had spotted it hanging heavily in the sky and had paused to take a proper look, Marian had found herself unable to leave her window, willing to watch the celebrations below but somehow as yet incapable of joining them. Times had been hard and fortunes poor these last few years. Whilst the harvest was not as abundant as it had been in the past, it was solid at least – enough to see most families through the winter – which was definitely cause for celebration.

Not that such matters affected her of course. As the daughter of a noble, she never went hungry, no matter what the state of the year's harvest nor how much the Sheriff raised his taxes. She did not have to worry each day about scraping together enough so that those she loved would not starve, feeding them scraps that a dog could barely live on. Perhaps that was why she felt slightly ill at ease about joining in the merriment – she felt like a hypocrite. She feared that they would see her as one of the nobles descended down from upon high to smile at peasants, unable to fully appreciate the reason for their joy since she could not possibly understand the depths of their troubles. Even her exploits as the Night Watchman failed to comfort her nor could they rid her of the feeling that she had no right to this celebration nor share in their joy.

In truth though that was nothing new. She often felt like she did not belong, a feeling that assaulted her all the more frequently of late. The friends of her childhood were all married now and gone away, happy wives and happy husbands, many with happy faced children to match. Yet she was still here, consigning herself to a life of cold detachment from whomever risked getting too close, all because a foolish, selfish boy had gone to war and had broken her heart. She had been so hurt at first, shed uncountable tears over too many nights, but that was soon replaced by anger and then a bitterness that had never quite left even with the passing of time and growing wisdom. It certainly did not help that she couldn't seem to find her place in this world – try as she might to quash her more foolish desires, she could not help but want more than she was able to have, want to do more than society would allow her. The frustration of it left her with such deep ill feeling in her heart that she often struggled to remember what it was like to be without it. To remember what it was like to be a carefree girl under the protection of a powerful father, with a charming betrothed and nothing to worry about in the world. Perhaps it was this discontentment that made such merry scenes as those below her so hard to stomach.

Still it was good to see the people happy. The spread of meat, bread, cheese and vegetables was by no means a feast for so large a group of revellers but at least everyone would eat well today and no belly should ache from hunger that night. Her father had been most gracious to supply as many casks of ale and wine as he could reasonable afford, enough for each man to drink several flagons worth at least. He had also procured the services of the musicians who usually played at the castle and the combination of alcohol and music had led to a group of men to start singing in a rousing if somewhat unmusical manner.

We've ploughed and sowed
We've reaped and mowed
And we've gathered in the clover.
And every man will take his can
And neatly toss it over.
Now drink, boys, drink, and if you spill
You shall have two, it is our master's will.

A cheer rang out as they finished which quickly turned into laughter as one man's over enthusiastic raising of his tankard to toast caused him to topple backwards off of the bench he was standing upon. Despite herself Marian smiled a little too but it faded to a puzzled look as she caught sight of a second man who put an arm out to help his fallen drinking comrade up. There was nothing particularly remarkable about him – although she could not help but think that he was certainly handsome – instead the defining feature which had given her pause was that he was a stranger. Marian made a point of at least knowing the faces of those who lived around her and she was sure that she had never seen this man before.

Perhaps he could feel her studying eyes upon him, for as he slapped his companion on the back in a jovial manner his gaze shifted towards her window, his eyes fixing straight upon her. Unlike most would have done in the circumstance he did not look away out of courtesy or embarrassment but instead a smile came to his lips and brought a look of roguish mischief to his face. In spite of herself Marian found herself smiling in return.

Suddenly the door behind her opened and she turned to see her father standing there. Fortunately, with her back to the window blocking much of the light he could not see the flush of embarrassment that briefly tainted her cheeks.

"Come along, Marian," he said, looking much happier than she could recall seeing him in a long time, "You are missing the festivities."

"You look like you are enjoying them well enough for both of us," she said with a slight tease, recovering her composure quickly.

"True," he admitted with a nod and a small laugh, "And why not? It is good to see everyone so merry. But I would be even more content should you decide to join us."

She smiled in return, remembering once more that she was lucky to have such a father and trying to remind herself that her lot in life was perhaps so bad after all.

"I believe it would do us both good."

She turned momentarily to close her shutters, surprising even herself when her eyes searched briefly once more for the man she had spotted. She was certainly a little disappointed to find him gone.

The feeling soon faded however when she and her father stepped out of their door and joined the festivities. He was right, there was something intoxicating about the merriment around them. So much so that it could even lift her increasingly dour spirits and send the chill from her heart.

People greeted her merrily as she walked passed them and she forgot her troubles completely when a little girl, with some prodding from her mother, dashed up to her and handed her a corn dolly, rather proudly proclaiming that it was gift for the lady. She knelt down to thank the girl, her heart warming at the simple sign of acceptance and unaware that a pair of blue eyes was watching her with increasing curiosity.