Title: A Year and a Day
Rating: T
Summary: AU, Post-Walkabout. Marian is tired of being a pawn, and Robin is tired of waiting. Adventures ensue in an out of order fashion and not according to plan. Not compatible with "Husbanding England."
Disclaimer: I do not hold any ownership over the BBC's version of Robin Hood. Beta'd by musical-penguins – but I can't leave well enough alone, so any mistakes are all mine. Nobody's perfect.
Author's Note: Because one AU is not enough? I'm not sure where the idea came from, only I was rewatching the series and becoming increasingly frustrated with Marian not saying "Screw it! I'm marrying Robin!" Because that's what I would have done, especially after her father dies. So this is inserted after "Walkabout," and is not compliant with any scrap of canon post-almost-burning-down-of-the-Shire, or even my own lovingly crafted AU. Screw it! Get ready for lots of R/M mush, adventures, and the baddies getting their just desserts.

"Don't ever think I fell for you, or fell over you. I didn't fall in love, I rose in it." ~Toni Morrison.

o0O0o

Marian never thought she would be so happy to see the Sheriff as she was today. Well, happy to hear him shout, anyway. Order was quickly restored to Nottingham, the soldiers who were to burn the shire were quartered for the night amongst the city, and she was sent off to her chambers.

She was simply tired. Tired of Guy trying time and again to get her to marry him. Tired of defending her actions to him, her decision to lay down her life with the people of Nottingham rather than flee as his wife. Even though he came back to die with her, she could not help but hope for Robin. Guy's gesture was… well, a bit late. She was glad of his skill as a fighter and a leader (well, leader when the Sheriff was gone, but if they could have found him earlier, they would have never had been in this mess at all), but she knew in that moment she could never love him, nor he could he ever hope to earn her respect. She would not leave the place she loved. Robin would return to make a last stand with her, she knew him too well. And if Guy wanted to join their party, it made little difference to her. She could not turn him away.

Though there was no fire, she felt as though her clothing, her hair, her skin smelled of ash. There was nothing in Nottingham for her now, save death and threats and cajoling from Guy.

She barred the door, pulled a large bag out of from under her bed, and began packing anything that may be useful (most of her things were useful these days, as Guy had burned the rest to the ground- more fire and ash from a man who claimed to admire her. It occurred to her that Robin smelled of growing things, of Sherwood). Only her heaviest clothing (not that wanton red dress, despite its newness), trousers, Nightwatchman gear, hairpin daggers, rags for bandaging, a knife, cup, spoon, a heavy blanket… such were the things Marian learned that were more use in the forest than a bright green corset dress. Comfortable, warm things, now that she actually had time (and the presence of mind) to plan.

And nestled in between two pairs of heavy hose, an (ostentatious) green engagement ring.

As she was pulling on her newest pair of boots, a knock came to the door. Marian held in a gasp, before calling, "Who is it?"

Instead of an answer, she heard a bird call. She dashed to the door, flung the lock open, and pulled the heavy door back. A man in a guard uniform stepped in crisply.

Before the guard could speak, Marian had the door closed behind him, barred again, and she turned around to whisper, "I am coming with you to the forest."

"Good. Anything fragile?" he picked up her pack.

"No," she tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Even better." Robin went to the window, which overlooked a rarely used courtyard, and dropped the bag the six floors to the cobblestones below.

Marian pulled on a dark, heavy cloak, and marched out of the chamber, Robin at her heels. She knew the Sheriff would be holding court, berating Guy for his actions today, but she could not bring herself to care at all. No one would expect her to be so bold as to march out of the castle, out of Nottingham, and no one would question her if she looked to be escorted the entire time. They made their way through the empty corridors, down to pick up her pack (which he carried for her) and out of the castle, where Robin had two horses waiting. He tied her pack to her horse. They mounted silently and were off at a canter, Marian careful to draw her hood.

The two made their way in the darkness out of Nottingham and into the (relative) safety of the tree-line. Marian did not even worry that she was now an outlaw- she had been one in practice for a long time now, and it was time for her to be named for what she really was. Robin Hood's spy, helpmeet, gang-member… whore. Whatever anyone wished to call her in relation to Robin, she was prepared for it. But she rather hoped someday to be called wife or beloved.

As they reached the trees, they slowed their mounts to a walk and made their way slowly to the camp, taking their time and going the long way around.

"So," he said, breaking the silence between them.

"I am with you, Robin. I am tired of being apart from you. I can no longer gather any useful information in the castle. I wish to be the Nightwatchman during the day. True to myself," she looked to him, "and to you."

"I will not pretend I am not happy about this change of mind, Marian." He smirked at her. "Does this mean no more kisses for Gisbourne?"

She laughed. "No, I think… I think I would rather save them all for you."

He grinned cheekily. She laughed and shook her head at his antics, bringing her gaze forward again.

"I am glad you brought your Nightwatchman gear. I would rather not expose your identity. You are safer when Gisbourne cannot find you, and if he discovers you are in my gang, that we were betrothed…."

"I had thought of that, it is why I brought it. And I intend to wear it."

"At all times?"

Marian shrugged. "People have long suspected the Nightwatchman and Robin Hood to be allies."

"We were."

"Not so blatantly. The only trouble is… my ring."

"What about it?" His voice went up an octave.

She had not realized he set so much in store by her liking the ring. To her it was just another… object. The burning of her house had taught her that material goods did not matter as much as she thought. While she still regretted losing a few things (like her mother, Kate's wedding gown), for the most part, Marian had little and needed less. "It is a bit much for a freedom fighter and a champion of the poor," she reasoned.

"You are right, of course." Robin bowed to her logic.

"I am not saying I will necessarily give up the ring, but I will not wear it while we are still fighting for justice," Marian said, looking for compromise.

Robin shrugged. "You could not wear it in the castle. The only purpose of the ring is to remind others that we belong together. The gang all knows that, I have no fear of them, and you could hardly wear it in front of Gisbourne."

"We are agreed then."

Agreements. So much nicer than arguments.

Marian and Robin dismounted and stabled the horses in a lean-to that Will had built after finishing the camp. It was not quite as well hidden, but since it was still over a mile to the outlaws' camp, it was reasonably safe to keep the horses there. Anything of value was then carried on foot to the camp.

Robin lit a candle against the darkness, and Marian brushed her horse down, the repetitive motion calmed her heart and quieted her mind.

"Marry me," Robin suggested as he took the bridle from the horse and hung it on the wall.

"I have already promised to do just that." She returned the brush to its proper bag and turned to face him.

"I know, but I mean… sooner. It could be a year before the King returns. Peace takes time to negotiate, and travel even longer. I want you now. I want our happiness."

She signed and toyed with her fingers. She could not deny that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. It was agony to be apart from him, agony to be standing next to him and not let him initiate her into the passions that men and women enjoy. She still had reservations, however. Not about his intentions or his feelings, but rather, practical matters. "No priest will marry us. You are an outlaw, and I will be declared one soon enough. You have no lands; there is no one to negotiate a dowry, or to give me away. I cannot think of a way to marry you, nor anyone to marry us."

"What about… handfasting?"

"It is a bit, well, pagan."

"Marian- I am a man, dressed in green, living in a forest, tempting a maiden to be my wife in the middle of the night. What about that is Christian?" his voice was taunt with frustration.

She inhaled sharply then let out a peal of laughter. He was right; she was still trying to do things the proper way, the way she would have done things five years ago, before he left. But they could not go back. They had to forge their own way, now. She was not marrying him as a matter of security, nor his political sway over the Sheriff, nor to protect her father. She was marrying him because she loved him. And she had every reason to believe he loved her back.

He went on, building a case, "Besides, I have stolen you from the castle, under the nose of the Sheriff and Gisbourne. By quite a few archaic laws, we are already married. Is this not how old Henry claimed Eleanor of Aquitaine? By stealing her away into the night? And, I know of someone who may be willing to handfast us, for I wish to do right by you, though I do not give a damn about the nobles and their expectations."

She smiled again, then wondered who would handfast them. "A priest?"

"A monk," Robin told her. "We can arrange for him to bind us as soon as you wish."

Marian threw herself into his arms, pleased with his cleverness. "Tomorrow."

He chuckled and dropped kisses into her hair. "Perhaps the day after."

o0O0o

It was nearly morning again when the Sheriff finally dismissed Guy from the Great Hall. Allan watched him march away with a sour look on his face.

"Giz, I have seen to your horse, and-"

"DO NOT CALL ME THAT, YOU INSOLENT BASTARD."

Allan took a step backward. "Was it something I said?"

Guy did not say a word in response, but rather continued marching down the corridor. Allan followed as quietly as he knew how. He was not surprised when Gisbourne led the way to Marian's chambers.

Allan was surprised to see Gisbourne burst into the room without knocking.

And Gisbourne looked surprised to find Marian gone. Well, Allan could have guessed at that. He was amazed it had not happened almost as soon as she came back to the castle a few weeks ago. Since then, he had caught her listening at a few keyholes, but by the looks of things, she had not been able to glean anything useful. Not her fault, really. Giz and the Sheriff were being more careful than usual.

Guy turned suddenly slammed Allan against the wall, "WHERE IS MARIAN?"

"I'm not bein' funny, but do you think she'd tell me?" he asked. "Maybe she went to the Abbey again."

Guy growled, released Alan, and strode off, his black mood following like a shadow.

"Where are you going then?" Allan asked.

"The Abbey, you fool. Have my horse saddled," Guy snarled, obviously forgetting that Allan had originally sought him out to tell him the horse was stabled.

With that, Guy was gone. Allan hurried to prepare the horses. He knew they would not find Marian at the Abbey, and Guy would discover that she had never been there at all. Allan suspected Guy was not a complete fool and would guess Marian would join up with Robin (as Allan currently suspected), but there was not much he could do, except swear he had never even heard their names in the same sentence. Besides, Robin had recently used Marian as a hostage, that fact should cast some doubts on their relationship.

On the other hand, she did suggest Guy use Robin to help find the Sheriff today. Or yesterday, rather. Lost track of the hours. Allan wished for just a few hours of sleep. Just to get his head on straight. One wrong move in either direction could result in his death, Marian's death, the gang's death…. That was an endless list.

Alas, no rest for the weary.

o0O0o

"Much," Robin asked upon returning to the camp, Marian on his arm. The outlaws were busy preparing for sleep, the goose was penned up and awaiting tomorrow when they would truly feast on it.

"Yeah?" Much answered.

"Who was that drunk monk you and Will found wandering a few weeks ago?"

"Drunk? Robin…." Marian wanted to know. She took off her cloak and laid it over Robin's bunk, intending to share it with him. She was an outlaw now, she told herself, and no longer concerned with propriety. Nothing against Djaq, but she did not want to share the woman's bunk any longer. If anyone noticed, they did not comment.

"Friar Tuck? What about him?" Much said looking mystified.

"I have a job for him. Think he could sober up for an hour or two?" Robin wondered, setting his bow and quiver near his bunk.

"Maybe if we promised him some ale after the time is up," Will joked.

"Seems fair," Robin pondered, settling his fists on his hips, arms akimbo.

"What do we need a drunk monk for, anyway?" Djaq asked.

"A wedding," Marian said demurely, opening her pack and pulling out a very large ring. She placed it on her hand and tilted her head as if in study.

"Yours," said Much, without any surprise in his voice. Robin must have told his oldest friend. Good, Marian thought. Much deserved to know first.

Marian nodded and took off the ring again, resettling it in her pack.

"Yes, ours," Robin agreed. "As soon as we can manage it."

The gang offered their sincere congratulations. After the initial clamor wound down, Will quietly asked," How, I mean, what if… you guys, you know… have children?"

Marian suddenly busied with her pack again. To be perfectly honest, she was not sure she could have children, but she had not told Robin yet. After Guy had stabbed her, after it appeared that Marian might live to fight again, Djaq had found her alone and told her that the wound might have damaged her in such a way that would make bearing a child impossible. Her mind flew back to that memory.

"I fear I must tell you something that… I did not tell you earlier for fear you would stop fighting for your life. For surely, I think your life more important than…" Djaq trailed off.

Marian was now, suddenly, frightened. Her mind scrolled through possibilities. The gang? Was someone ill? Was Robin ill? Injured? In love with another? Thinking the truth could be no worse than her impulsive thoughts she demanded, "Djaq, speak, for the love of God that you call Allah-"

"You may not, with the wound where it is, be able to have children," Djaq interrupted, bluntly.

Marian fell silent.

"I know nothing of breeding, pregnant women are usually kept in confinement, as I suspect they are here, but… I think it a possibility you will not be able to bear a child."

"I… yes. I understand." Marian's eyes were filling with tears. "Never lie to a wounded man."

And though she had not lied to Robin about it, she had not told him about it either.

"We will cross that bridge when we come to it, I guess," Robin said, shifting awkwardly from one foot to another. Perhaps he did not even think of the possibility of her becoming pregnant. Men did not always think about the practicalities of a woman lying with a man, and how it may result in a child.

The air in the camp was suddenly tense. Marian knew she would have to tell Robin, but not now. Not in front of his gang. She would have to catch him alone. Perhaps tonight, in their bunk, with the rest of the gang asleep. They quietly prepared for sleep.

Robin offered to take the first watch, but John would not allow it, saying if the Sheriff returned, he needed to be the first to know. So Robin followed Marian to his bunk, and John found his boulder, high above the hidden camp.

It did not take long for the rest of the gang to fall asleep, their soft snores sounded like waves rolling in from the sea. Yet Marian was too tense to sleep, the day had been much too stressful, and by the feel of things on her left (it was too dark to see him), so was he.

"Robin, I-" she began in a whisper.

"I almost lost you today," he marveled, "and yet, you are here, in my arms." He tightened his hold on her waist and nuzzled her neck.

"Yes," she agreed. "Robin.…"

She rolled to her left side to face him. Space was limited, so he shifted to accommodate her. He stopped nuzzling her and propped his head up on his elbow. "Marian?"

"About the… children that Will mentioned…."

"I have no bastards," Robin confessed. "Not one. I promise you."

"Well, that is good news, I guess," Marian was thrown off for a moment. She shook her head. "Be quiet a minute, will you?"

"Sorry."

"It is alright. We have never had this conversation before. Quite unprecedented for us, to have something left for us to converse about."

"Uncharted territory," he agreed.

Marian took a deep breath, trying to organize her thoughts. Slowly, she pushed his left hand which had settled on her hip to the scar that Gisbourne gave her. "You should know that, before we marry in case you should change your mind, Djaq suspects this wound, this scar, may have affected my ability to give you children." Her voice shook at the end, but at least the truth was out. She wished for just a small flare of light so she could see his face.

"Marian," he whispered, and brushed his thumb over where he knew her wicked scar to be. A scar that was mirrored on his own body. "I hope you do not think that I will not marry you because of this."

"I do not want you to be… disappointed with me, if I cannot have children."

"I could not possibly be disappointed with you, Marian. You are… well. You are smart and clever and bold and brave and companionate, and not to mention beautiful. Our ability to have children is in the hands of the Lord," he pointed out.

Marian sighed. "I… I guess now is not the time for children, but when Nottingham is safe again…. I had imagined a brood of them at our table, or racing each other around the forest, besting us at target practice."

"Hush, Marian," he rolled them to his back and rocked her slowly. "I have had these dreams, too. Once in the Holy Land, I had a dream that you gave me a daughter so small that I carried her around in my pocket. But those are dreams, my love. I much prefer reality."

A few tears slipped through her lashes and spilled onto her cheeks, like the secret had just told him. "Why do you seem to know just what to say?"

He chuckled. "I practice little speeches like that."

"Oh? And how do you find the time?"

"It is the first thing I do in the morning," he whispered. "After I imagine what living with you would be like. Sharing a house, sharing responsibilities… sharing a bed."

Her breath caught. Now was not the time, but it would be soon. Very soon. The day after tomorrow.

"Marian, tell me you imagine these things too."

She slowly let out her breath. "Yes, but like you, I think reality will prove better."

She felt his arms wrap around her more securely. She nestled herself into his chest, using it as a pillow, and finally let his breathing lull her into sleep.

o0O0o

It was not too far to Ripley Convent, to the Sisters of the Immaculate Conception. But Allan was already tired and Guy was in no good mood for the journey.

"Maybe we will meet her on the road there," Gisbourne said when they set out.

"Nah, her horse is gone, and you know what a good seat Marian has."

"That is Lady Marian to you, Allan," Guy grumbled. "And I will thank you not to speak of her… seat again!"

Still, before long they had arrived (Guy had decided not to take any guards, preferring speed over safety).

"Who goes there!" called an old monk at the gate.

"Sir Guy of Gisbourne, and my man, Allan-A-Dale. You will let us pass," he spoke in his dismissive tone.

"I am sorry, my Lord, I cannot allow men who have not taken chastity vows into these grounds. If you state your business, mayhap we can resolve it here?"

"I seek the Lady Marian, whom I believe came here to grieve for her father."

Allan shifted in his saddle.

"Eh?" asked the old monk. "We have no maid by that name, my Lord, I cannot remember anyone by that name in recent years."

"Impossible, Marian herself wrote me last time she took shelter here, the missive was sealed by the Mother Superior!"

Allan shifted uncomfortably again.

"When was this? Because the Mother Superior has had it put about, her ring was stolen by a man a few weeks back…."

"One of Hood's men, no doubt," Guy growled.

"Nay, 'twas a man well dressed, the Mother said."

Guy was stumped. "Might I speak to the Abbess?"

The monk shrugged. "I will go ask her. Please remain here; I will have another brother bring you ale and water for your horses." He waited as if for thanks from the two men.

Guy thought the monk could wait for eternity. Marian was not here, and the abbey would be getting none of his thanks for carelessly losing the Mother Superior's ring. But where-ever Marian was, she would be back. She had returned before, and she would return again. They had kissed, had they not? Not so long ago. And he had come back for her, to burn with her. She, well, he had seen the look in her eyes- the hope and the gratitude. She would be back. She had to be.

o0O0o