A/N: Other than the Disney movie, and "The Outlaw of Sherwood" by Robin Mckinley, I don't own Robin Hood.
Presently this story is just a oneshot snippet of Robin and Marian's lives while he is an outlaw, but if I ever get the time (or a plotline) I might actually turn this into a multi-chapter story.
!
Marian sits at the window watching the rain make tracks on the glass as she traces a line with her finger leaning against the window. Her breath turns the pane a frosty white and she draws a small heart, before wiping off the condensation. The forest is barely visible from her room, a dark shadow through the ceaseless rain. Marian would laugh at the fate of outlaws living within its recesses if it wasn't for him. Them, she corrects herself, if it wasn't for them.
"Lady Marian!" Her lady-in-waiting calls entering the room and placing her hand on Marian's shoulder. "You have to come down, your uncle—."
"My uncle doesn't rule my life." Marian stands up, throwing the hand off her and striding to her closet and grabbing her cloak. "I'm leaving."
"Marian." The lady calls, desperate. "Your uncle expects you to be there tonight, if you're not…I need this job"
Marian stops in the doorframe, turning back to her maid. "I'm sorry Rose. That was selfish of me. Do forgive me."
"Of course I forgive you milady, but you'd best to get yourself to the feast."
"Certainly." Marian replies, hanging the coat back up in her closet. The hope of visiting him—them she corrects herself again—dissolves, and with one last glance out the window she leaves the room. She pauses at the top of the staircase, calming herself down with slow breaths before stepping down the stairs and heading to the feast.
"Marian my dear." Her uncle smiles.
"Sheriff." She responds, nodding to her uncle who pulls out a chair, where, sweeping aside her skirt she sits down, eyeing the other guests skeptically.
Marian leans back in her chair letting the buzz of conversation flow around her, her thoughts wandering the woods. With a jerk she pulls her attention back to the discussion listening intently for those words.
"Robin Hood." Marian's breath catches at his name, but she forces herself to focus on the following conversation rather then the man himself. The sheriff frowns. "He's a menace, completely disrupting our way of life. Steal from the rich give to the poor, who's heard of such a ludicrous thing. He thinks he's so great, so moral." The others repeat the Sheriff's opinion in sycophantic tones and the conversation turns to the Sheriff's favorite topic, how to catch Robin Hood.
"Isn't there some rumor of his uncanny archery skills?" Guy of Gisbourne —the nonexistent household of his family is a bitter recollection of his own lack of fortune— comments, a cunning smile on his face. "Perhaps we could entice him here with a contest."
"You think him so daft as to risk his safety and those who follow him by coming to a contest." Marian asks in surprise, glancing at Gisbourne. Although she doesn't like him much, she has always respected his intelligence.
"With the proper…persuasion," He hints, smiling meanly, but his gaze falls on the woman and his expression softens.
"Well," Marian considers. "That might work."
"Perhaps if we offer money, or riches..." The sheriff states. "Not that we'd actually give it to him."
"We should offer a golden arrow to the best archer." The Sheriff's newest toady (a young man, who's unrepentant leers always make Marian feel the need to shower) recommends.
"Yes, yes, that sounds magnificent." The Sheriff affirms, smiling slyly at Guy. Marian—to her amazement—exchanges a surprised look with Gisbourne. They both know what Guy's real intention had been. But Guy's position is too precarious, and Marian is too involved with the thief, that they both let the conversation wander to a different topic. Marian leans farther back in her chair, attempting to feign an interest in the conversation. It's going to be a long night.
!
Robin sighs as he listens to the ping of rain falling on leaves. It seems to rain a lot more now he no longer has a roof over his head, just the rather sodden tree branches over the somehow still unfinished, though rather well hidden, cabin the outlaws live in. He turns over and tries to get some sleep, but his mind is too occupied with money, food and other provisions for his small band of outlaws. And of course Marian keeps intruding on his thoughts; she is always high in his concerns. Her acquaintance with him and frequent visits to the forest hideaway, though the greatest pleasure he has in his rogue life, also cause him the greatest grief.
Still unable to sleep, he silently stands up and sneaks out of the cabin, almost treading on John's fingers and tripping over the deep sleeping Much, nearly stubbing his toe in the process. Running his hand through his hair, and wishing (not for the first time) for a roof and a lantern, Robin steps into the dripping rain. It isn't time to change the watch, but he is awake and his men need sleep. Heading to the tree where Scarlet usually keeps watch, he whistles a greeting.
"Robin?" is the groggy reply. "What is it, is something wrong?" Scarlet calls, coming completely awake as he jumps down from the soggy branches.
"Everything is fine, I couldn't sleep and thought I'd relieve you for a while…go get some rest."
"You should be the one resting Robin, how can you not be tired?" Scarlet yawns. "Little John told me you took his watch last night, and your own…and I have an odd feeling you fill in when you think we have too few people." Robin cringes slightly, but it is true, there is no use in denying. "Really Robin, you have to sleep sometime."
Robin smiles thinly. "I'll sleep when I'm dead."
"That's not funny." Scarlet blanches, shaking his head at Robin in horror.
"It wasn't supposed to be." Shoving his bow into his belt, he climbs the tree; leaning on a thick branch as he watches Scarlet disappear into the forest. The sound of the rain seems louder here, enclosed entirely by tree branches, the sweet smell of the leaves surrounding him. He feels relaxed for the first time all night.