When I'm Sixty-Four
Rated K
Part of Matriaya's "Fab Four" Challenge. She gave me five Beatles Songs and told me to write stories concerning our two true pairings, i.e. Robin/Marian and Will/Djaq. Hence the four. Also, the Beatles are the Fab Four... okay, you get it. Anyway, this one is Robin/Marian. Thanks to Lennon/McCartney, who wrote the song, and to Matriaya who of course, beta-ed the story.
I own nothing, from the idea, to the song, to the characters that I'm playing with. Preseries fluff; enjoy!
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The day was warm, but not oppressively so, there was a soft breeze blowing, the birds were singing; it was a perfect Sunday. The summer sun danced down on the thriving, golden fields where two dark haired children raced around each other.
"I know something you do not!" taunted the older boy.
"Tell me, Robin." said the younger girl, hitching up her oppressive skirts and preparing to tackle him to the ground.
"That's Master Robin to you, Maid Marian."
"Since when?" her hands flew to her hips, her skirts fell back to the dirt.
"Since yesterday."
"Why, what happened yesterday? Did someone inflate your abnormally large head again?" the seven year old asked the ten year old.
"No, father told me something that he said was meant for a man's ears."
Marian laughed. Her blue eyes sparkled and her dimples danced across her cheeks. "So why did he tell you? Or were you listening at the door while he told Much?"
Robin's face flushed scarlet, and said, "Fine, I won't tell you." He collapsed in an indignant heap in the dust.
"Oh buck up. I thought you were a man? Can you not handle a little teasing from a mild maid?" She sat down next to him, determined not to give in to his tantrum, but unwilling to leave him and go back to Robin's house. There would be even less to do there, what with their fathers conducting business not fit for a young lady. Even is she was better than Robin in her lessons.
And she wanted to play with him. They saw each other a few times a season, but her father was very busy as the Honorable Sheriff of Nottingham. Robin of Locksley was her favorite playmate; she did not have to pretend with him. She could be smart and strong and even insulting because he was all those things and she had to keep up with him. She was sure that he liked being challenged by someone, even if it was a girl, three years to his junior.
He looked up at her. "Do you really want to know?" he asked.
Marian shrugged, to try and hide that she really truly did want to know. But she would never admit a weakness to Master Robin of Locksley.
"You are lying, Marian. You really want to know."
"That's Maid Marian to you, sir," she said as scathingly as she knew how.
"Fine, I will tell you, but only because, well…" he trailed off, looking for a reason.
Marian was getting impatient. "Tell me now, or I'll go back to the house."
"You and I are betrothed."
"What?!" she bellowed in a most unbecoming manner, and jumped to her feet. "How can I marry you? You are horrible!"
"Better me than a man the same age as your father."
"Have you been thinking about this?" she accused.
"Not really, I'd much rather be a knight, and swing my sword for God in the Holy Lands.
"Fool. You will get yourself killed by the Turks."
"No I will not. I will live until I am… sixty four."
"Sixty four? That is a long time, Robin."
"Yes, and you will be by my side, Lady Marian of Locksley."
"No, I will not. If you go off to the Holy Lands, you will be a very lonely sixty four year old. I will… I will not marry at all! I will become Queen of England!"
"What if I take you with me? Adventuring in the Holy Lands? It could be fun."
"But I am not a fool. I would never go there, it is a death wish."
"I imagine you would like adventuring. And then we could come back to Locksley-"
"Knighton!"
"Locksley," he said, ignoring the interruption. "And we shall have scores of children,"
Marian scoffed at this.
He continued, "and we shall grow older, and the children will give us grandchildren who will beg for stories of our adventures in the Holy Lands, and you can sew our clothes and I can go hunting for our dinners."
"Keep dreaming, Master Robin." She heard her father calling from the house. "I have to go."
"No you do not."
"Yes, I do. Father is calling me."
"Marian!" Robin shouted. She turned to face him.
"It would not be so bad, being married to you. You are fun, even if you are a girl."
She looked him over critically. "I suppose it would not be so bad, being married to you. You are more fun than the other girls father tries to get me to play with."
Her father called again, his voice was growing impatient. "Fare well, Master Robin!" She ran off, and Robin was left alone with the night falling down all around him.
"Will you still need me when I'm sixty four?" he asked her retreating figure.