Part I : Kate
Kate knew who Marian was – of course she did. Not that anyone ever really talked about her, of course, but Kate had gleaned enough information from whispered conversations in the camp and rumours in Locksley village. Marian was the lady of Knighton, back when there still was a Knighton. She'd been killed by Guy of Gisborne in a jealous rage, and Robin had married her on her deathbed in the Holy Land.
And yet Kate had never really given her much thought – she was a memory, a ghost, not something that required much of Kate's attention.
It was funny how life worked out, Kate thought to herself. She never expected to be outlawed, let alone throw in her lot with Robin Hood's gang. She never in her wildest dreams thought she would fall in love with Robin Hood himself, or that he would return her affection. And she never gave Robin's dead wife a moment's consideration because she thought her irrelevant, and Robin's grief long buried like her body in the Holy Land.
And yet, all of Kate's thoughts and attention was now devoted to Marian of Knighton – because she sat, very much alive, in the outlaw's camp.
The woman ate ravenously, which was fair considering she had been travelling for many weeks. She stopped sating her hunger occasionally to regale them of her miraculous tale of survival, and of her long and arduous journey back to Nottingham.
Kate did not pay much attention to what was said, but instead used the time to study the woman who had come before her in Robin's affections. Marian was beautiful, she supposed, or would be beautiful if she was not dressed in tattered clothes and covered in dirt from the road. She had a clear, direct way of speaking, as if addressing a crowd. Kate supposed that she was – they were all there; Allan, Much and even Little John listening in rapt attention to her story and Tuck appraising her thoughtfully. Gisborne lurked in the shadows, as was his habit ever since he had joined the camp (a fact that still rankled) and Kate was amused to see that he seemed almost afraid of Marian. It wasn't every day you were visited by someone you had killed, but that only made Kate think bitterly about her brother, wishing he had been spared instead.
And of course, there was Robin, seated across the camp from Marian. His hands were folded and clenched tightly, and Kate watched him watch Marian across the fire. Kate allowed her gaze to linger on him, on Robin's long, slender fingers which had caressed Kate's neck as he kissed her, on the lips that so often pulled back into a smile for her – for Kate and no one else.
The right thing to do would be to step aside of course, Kate told herself. Marriage vows made on the brink of death were still vows, and this was the woman that Robin had once been willing to kill Gisborne over. But that had been a long time ago, and Robin had allowed Guy to join the gang, had convinced Kate not to hurt him – because if Robin could forgive him for killing Marian, the woman he had loved, then Kate could accept him even though he had killed Matthew.
But Kate could not accept him. It was a feint, a compromise, because that's what Robin wanted, and she would do anything for him. She would never accept Gisborne, because you never forgave someone for killing someone you loved, and Kate thought that if Robin had done so, perhaps he did not love Marian that much after all.
It was this thought that made Kate quietly take a seat beside Robin as Marian continued her tale – apparently she had visited Aquitaine on the way back to England. But Kate concentrated on her movements – she did not want to be too obvious. Robin did nothing as she shifted closer to him, until their thighs were touching. Emboldened by his inaction, Kate rested a hand on his elbow. It was a move that could be seen as a comforting gesture, not as a claim, and yet Robin flinched noticeably and gave her a confused look.
This caught Marian's notice, and she stopped in her story and turned her gaze to Kate, cocking her head to the side. Kate felt Marian's eyes look her up and down, and then look towards Robin, whose expression could not be described as anything other than sheepish and embarrassed. Kate felt her face begin to burn, and she removed her hand from Robin's elbow and put the distance back between them.
"Well," Allan spoke up after a few moments silence. "This is awkward."
Marian laughed – a light, clear sound that pierced the tension in the air. Then she continued with her story as if she had not been interrupted, and did not look at Kate again.
When Marian's story was finished and she began conversing with the outlaws individually, Kate escaped into the forest. What had she been thinking? Kate chastised her foolish pride and boldness. What had she expected Robin to do? Introduce her to his presumed-dead-but-obviously-not wife as…what? Kate chewed the inside of her cheek, a nervous habit from childhood. What was she to Robin? Lover was too strong a word. Companion? Intimate friend?
The simple facts were, Kate told herself, that Marian was Robin's wife, and she was simply one of the many women who were in love with him. No – Kate shook her head – she was more than that. Robin must love her, or he would not have kissed her that night around the fire, would not have called her brave and compassionate and beautiful. He would not have kissed her back every time she had kissed him since.
Kate leant against the trunk of a nearby tree and folded her arms around herself. If Marian had been this great love, she asked herself, why didn't Robin ever talk about her? Why had he pursued a relationship with Kate, unless he was over her? Kate tried to snap herself back to reality. It didn't matter what Robin and Kate meant to each other, because he was married to Marian. That could not be broken, and so she had to give Robin up.
Feeling tears well up in her eyes, Kate closed them against the reality she now found herself in. Her legs felt weak, and she slid to the ground, the back of her dress scraping against the bark of the tree. She bent her knees and brought them up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs, bowed her head and cried.
Kate did not know how long she stayed that way when she heard raised voices. She was still concealed, curled up at the base of the tree, but when Kate turned her head she could see that it was Robin and Marian, clearly in the middle of an argument.
"Come on Marian," Robin was saying, following her as she stalked through the forest, fists clenched and clearly very angry. "You're not even back a day and already you're yelling at me?"
"Why not?" She threw back at him, the dark curls of her hair bouncing as she walked. "You didn't even wait a day after I was dead before you moved on."
"That's unfair, Marian," he told her forcefully, catching her arms and spinning her around to face him. Kate leaned back slightly against the tree so she would not be discovered.
"I mourned you," he told her passionately, "You don't understand what I've been through this past year."
"Well, you obviously found someone to help you through your grief," Marian replied cuttingly.
"It only happened a few weeks ago," Robin explained, and Kate felt a sense of dread forming at the pit of her stomach.
"Oh, so it took you almost a year to get over me?" Marian shook her head. "That makes me feel so much better," she added sarcastically.
"It wasn't like that," Robin said, stepping away from her for a moment, running a hand through his hair as he clearly tried to gather his thoughts. "It…it was difficult circumstances," he tried to explain. "Kate…she told me she liked me, and then she kissed me…" he turned back to Marian who had folded her arms over her chest and was clearly unimpressed by his explanation. "Kate's a great girl," he added a little desperately. "I didn't want to hurt her."
"So it happened by accident?" Marian laughed derisively. "She kissed you and you thought to yourself, 'oh well, better avoid an awkward situation, I'll just let it happen'."
Robin looked uncomfortable and Kate realised with sickening clarity that's exactly what had happened. She had pursued him, and he had given in to her because he didn't want to reject her.
Marian shook her head and laughed again. "You are unbelievable," she told him. "And with a Locksley girl - what were you thinking, Robin?" she asked incredulously. "She's very pretty," Marian added somewhat disdainfully when he failed to respond. "But when it comes down to it, you're still the Earl of Huntingdon, and she is still your serf."
"It's not like that here," Robin argued, but he still looked pained. "I'm an outlaw, I was stripped of my title."
"But you still invoke it when it suits you," Marian challenged him. "And what was going to happen if the King returned and you actually achieved all that you're fighting for? Were you going to marry her just to avoid breaking her heart?"
Robin ran a hand through his hair again and sighed in frustration. "I guess I hadn't thought that far ahead."
"Of course," Marian threw up her hands. "Of course you didn't. God forbid you think about anything before you do it."
"I thought you were dead!" he yelled in frustration. "My whole world died when you did, Marian," he told her, advancing and cupping her face in his hands. Watching from the shadows, Kate felt sick as she watched him gently caress Marian's cheeks with his thumbs as he stared intently into her eyes. He certainly had never looked at Kate that way.
"I was ready to die, myself," Robin continued in a softer tone of voice. "But the people here - the gang - they needed me to keep going," he added. "And to do that I had to move on, I had to try to forget you, it was the only way I could do that."
Marian seemed to soften momentarily, but when she spoke her voice was as hard as ever. "This conversation keeps getting more and more flattering." She pulled away from him and rubbed her cheeks as if his touch had burned her. "I can imagine how she helped you forget."
"Nothing like that happened," Robin said firmly. "Nothing."
Marian threw up her hands again and shrugged, this time in apparent resignation. "What does it matter?" she asked, and stalked away into the forest. Robin did not follow her, but instead ran both of his hands through his hair in obvious frustration and let out a long growl of dissatisfaction.
Kate turned back into herself, fresh tears appearing as she thought back on every interaction she and Robin had ever had. It seemed clear, now, that other than that night by the fire when he'd called her beautiful, he had never kissed her. She had always kissed him, and he had reciprocated. Kate had always been the instigator.
Robin had seemed to enjoy kissing her back, but Kate realised in hindsight that whenever she wanted to take it further – when she slipped her tongue into his mouth, or slid her fingers along the ridge of his belt, he would pull away. He said that he didn't want to take her virtue, not realising that she had no virtue left.
Oh, she was a maid, still, but she had given her heart and soul to him, had debased herself at the feet of his affections. Her virginity meant little in comparison to the desperation with which she had pursued, and ultimately conquered him.
His refusal to become anything approaching intimate with her had seemed honourable, and Kate had flattered herself that she was not a disposable chit like Isabella, good for some pleasure and then discarded. His refusal had meant that Robin respected her, that he was serious about her. At least, that was what she had convinced herself of.
But now Kate understood that she had been so, so wrong. Robin had pulled away because he did not want to ruin her – because he never intended to do more than kiss her, and pretty chastely at that.
Kate had been prepared to nobly sacrifice Robin so that he could return to Marian, to give up her happiness for the sake of his vows to another. It had seemed attractively honourable and virtuous. But hearing the conversation between Robin and Marian, she could not deny that she could not sacrifice Robin's love – because she had never had it.
"Kate?" Robin's voice cut through her reverie, and she looked up to see him standing above her, concerned. "Oh, Kate," he said softly. "You've been crying – I'm so sorry." He reached to help her to her feet, but she batted his hands away, wiping the remaining tears from her eyes as she stood.
Then she slapped him across in his concerned face, her rage sudden and fierce. "You bastard" she swore at him, backing away. "You used me to forget her?"
"No," Robin said softly, advancing on her. "At least…I didn't mean to."
"You led me on," she accused him, pushing him away.
But he kept her gaze firmly, evidently a little annoyed by her accusation. "I never lied to you."
"Maybe not," she said, the tears welling up in her eyes again. "Whether you lied to me or simply allowed me to believe a lie, it's no different," she said, her voice cracking. "It hurts all the same."
He had the decency to look ashamed. "I just didn't want to hurt you," he said softly.
"But you did," she said, hating that she could not stop the tears from falling in anger and despair. "You flirted with me, you kissed me. You allowed me to believe that you liked me."
"I - I do like you, Kate," he tried to assure her, but she could see clearly now.
"But you don't love me," she challenged him.
"If things were different, I could have…grown to love you," Robin tried to sidestep the accusation. "I believe," he added quietly.
"You believe?" Kate's heart ached – every word he said just made it worse. "You make it sound like a duty. Was it really such a chore to be with me?"
"You did make me happy, Kate," he said. "As happy as I could be after…" he stopped and looked away, clearing his throat. "I felt like Robin Hood when I was with you," he tried again as he took her hand gently. She allowed it, simply to feel the soft touch of his fingers on hers again. "You helped me become the legend again."
"But I didn't want the legend," she told him earnestly, gripping his hand. "I just wanted you – just Robin."
"Oh, Kate," he told her, cupping her cheek, but with only one hand, she noted bitterly. "Sweet Kate. You don't even know who that is," he told her sadly. "And if you did," he added, shaking his head, "You would not want him."
"But she does," Kate bit her lip, hating herself for her desperation. "You let her know you?"
"We're the same," he answered simply.
"You're both noble you mean," she said bitterly. "I thought that didn't matter to you?" Had she misjudged that as well?
"I mean that we understand each other," Robin told her firmly. "In a way that comes from time, and shared hardship. You're an innocent, Kate," he added, taking her by the shoulders and looking into her eyes. "You should stay that way, if you can."
Kate's heart sank as she found a new level of sorrow. She was just a girl to him, she realised, someone he was trying to protect and indulge. But not someone who he would ever let truly share his life. She allowed him to take her into his embrace – he held her gently as she cried and stroked her hair. For the first time she understood that there was no passion in it, no intent.
It was comfort, it was familiarity, it was the ease of circumstance, and would never be anything more.