Marian's Men – A Juxtaposition

By JeanTre16

Author's Note: This Robin Hood short story is a juxtaposition of Maid Marian's men—Guy of Gisborne and Robin of Locksley. It is my first piece based on the new BBC TV series. If you would be interested in me writing more for this series, please drop me a line to tell me so. Enjoy.

oooOoOooo

It had been one month to the day since Marian had left Guy of Gisborne standing at the altar. Now she was back at Locksley … not for him, but for the commoners in his village. Winter was upon them and the Sheriff of Nottingham had demanded another tax. Without the means to buy food, the people feared starvation. Marian was determined to be their voice, even if it meant facing the man she despised.

She had already carefully spoken her mind to him once, but he continued his inspection on a saddle, distant and unresponsive, not even as much as an acknowledgement to her plea. "Sir Guy," Marian's purposefully sweetened voice petitioned for the second time, "the people of Locksley cannot work any harder. They have already produced several times over their quota to provide the tax monies the sheriff insists on collecting."

Guy finally stopped his tinkering and crossed his arms, positioning himself half-turned in her direction. His profile was dark and contemplating; his austerity was only deepened by his black leather, full-length coat. Pivoting his head patiently off to the side as he had become accustomed to doing in response to her child-like persistence, he corrected calmly, "Marian, my cousin will not budge, and I will not cross him. It is a peasant's lot in life to provide his master with whatsoever is asked of him … Now—" he looked hesitant and moved nearer to continue in a lowered voice "—I may find it within my power to delay their next collection … if the sheriff is given reason to approve my diversion to other matters."

Marian backed off to look at him, a perplexed frown on her soft features. "What do you mean—diversion to other matters?" she asked.

Once again, the tall dark-haired man rolled his gaze in her failure to see his aim. "I'm talking about the reinstatement of our engagement," he spoke with a tinge more impatience in his voice.

"Oh," she replied, genuinely speechless. Diversions came in many forms and she had not anticipated Gisborne's revival of his quest for her hand so soon after her last denial.

"Think about it," he said, not waiting for her reply. She had not outwardly rejected him this time, which gave him reason to hope. He would talk to his cousin. There had to be some way to make concession between Marian and Nottingham, long enough for him to lay hold of her. Over the past weeks, he had tried convincing himself he could do without her, but now that she was here, he found he could not. More than ever, he wanted her.

ooOOoo

Robin was standing by the fire warming his hands when he saw her approach. She rode her chestnut into the clearing at a leisurely pace, a pace he often saw her use while deep in thought. He smiled. To him, she looked like an angel, casting a lovely glow against the backdrop of leaf-deprived trees.

As she drew into the light of the fire, he noticed the joyless look on her face. His smile faded and concern grew in its place. Her dismount was accompanied with a deep sigh as her feet lit upon the cool autumn earth. Quickly, her troubled eyes lifted to find his among the men by the crackling fire. Finding them, he saw her pain and froze.

"What is it?" Robin asked, studying her for clues. Marian could fool just about anyone with her calm demeanor, but she couldn't fool him. He had spent too many summers with her before he had left for the Holy Land. Here in the forests, he had come to know her moods and faces.

Pursing her lips, she looked around at the others—Robin's men—and insisted, "Not here." What she had to say to him had to be said in private.

"All right," he permitted and gestured her to lead the way from the fire pit, "after you."

They walked off a distance before she laid her troubles on him—the day's events at Locksley and of Gisborne's renewed proposition. In closing, she asked, "What should I do? I'm tired of this game. And it is all a game for him. What could he possibly want in me? Surely I've shown no affection towards him … rejecting him even, in the worst way possible."

"Yes, leaving him on your wedding day to ride off with another man isn't exactly showing felicity," Robin agreed, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

Marian scoffed incredulously at his necessity to defend his male pride in light of the suffering of those who once called him lord. Where was his heart? Was he no better than Gisborne? She walked a distance farther and spoke again, quieter this time, "If it would make a permanent difference, I'd do anything for the people of Locksley. But I know it would not. Next week the feasting would be over, and the people would be no wealthier for the delay."

Stopping behind her, Robin smirked, "And you'd be happily married to—" but he did not finish, for Marian had turned and stopped him with the forceful fist of the Night Watchman to his arm. "Ow," he whined and grabbed the sore spot with his other hand. As she walked off, he watched after her, wincing. He could see she was not up to a joke.

Glancing back over her shoulder at him, she grievously reasoned, "You deserved that."

"Look," he said, softly, "I'm sorry. I did not mean to hurt your feelings. And I do intend to do something about that tax."

Marian turned to face him, her hope renewed. The twinkle in his eyes and hint of his boyish smile told her he spoke the truth.

"Come here," he said, and held out his arms to offer her his embrace.

She accepted, tears welling in her eyes. While the rest of the world felt cold, here at least, she felt warm and safe.