It was a gorgeous night. Moonlight shone silver over the warm earth, a soft breeze caressed the air, the stars twinkled brightly in the night sky, but Marian felt far from content. She longed to share the night with her true love.

It seemed impossible. Robin was hidden in his outlaw camp deep in Sherwood Forest, recovering from an arrow wound to his shoulder, while she remained prisoner in Nottingham Castle, in her lonely room high in one of the castle towers.

Her room wasn't always lonely these days. Often, at great risk to both their lives, he would visit her here, and they would share precious hours together, hours so perfect the thrill of them stayed with her for days.

They were engaged, and he was desperately searching for a priest he could trust to marry them, so as to stop compromising her "virtue." But virtue, once so priceless to her, mattered little to Marian these days. The many close brushes they had faced with death, the whole of England turned on its ear by Prince John's tyranny, the confiscating of Robin's lands, titles, wealth...his very outlaw status, rendered null and void the former standards of society in Marian's eyes. They had waited too long, they were desperately in love, they could die at any moment...being together is what Marian valued now.

Still, she was pleased that Robin honored her, and she longed to become his wife as soon as possible, if any wedding while he was outlawed would even be considered legal.

But none of that mattered to her tonight. Tonight, every bit of her clamored to see him, touch him, love him. Well, see him and speak with him, at least. His wound would render the other impossible.

If only she could dress up as the Nightwatchman, she could escape these castle walls and seek him out! But Gisbourne had burned her Nightwatchman costume! It angered her that he had done so. The evil man who professed to love her cared not a whit that being the Nightwatchman was something she valued...something precious to her. He had burned her costume without a thought to how she felt.

Then again, didn't he seek to destroy everything that mattered to her? Hadn't he also burned her home to the ground? First her home, then the Nightwatchman... A chill passed over her as she pictured Robin tied to a stake, flames licking his body. No! That wouldn't happen! Gisbourne and the Sheriff constantly tried to capture and kill Robin. Why should they succeed now, when they had failed for nearly two years?

The need to be with her love tonight consumed her. The thought of him dying was too much to bear.

Why not another costume? Why couldn't that work? It would be tricky to find one, but not impossible. If she could disguise herself anew, she could flee to Robin tonight. And less selfishly, she could resume her charity as the Nightwatchman. She would just need to be more careful and not ever be seen. For she knew if Gisbourne learned of the Nightwatchman resurfacing, he would consider it betrayal, and she doubted he would protect her from the hangman's noose a second time.

Now, to find a costume!

...

Robin Hood sprinted through Sherwood, eager to reach his true love in her tower room in Nottingham Castle in time to steal a few moments together before day watch made his escape more hazardous. The wound in his shoulder stung with every step he took, yet his drive to be with Marian was so intense he didn't care, even as his steps ripped Djaq's stitching open.

He was proud of his disguise. Before he had received his wound, he had stolen a white Cistercian monk's hooded robe from Roche Abbey. It covered him completely, and he felt even more hidden in it than in his own hood. His conscience pricked him a bit for stealing a monk's robe, but it wasn't as if he stole it off a monk. He'd just seen it hanging unused in the Abbey, when he'd been there to visit Father Gerald.

Much had argued with him about the robe. And Robin had to admit Much had a point. A black Benedictine robe would have been more stealthy, especially as a night disguise. But white would have to do. It was all he had. Besides, he told himself, who would question him? No one in their right mind would try to be invisible wearing a white robe on a moonlit night! Once he reached the castle, he would enter it calmly, knowing he would be seen, and just make his way slowly to Marian's rooms, acting as if he had every right to be there. Well, as slowly as he could, with his heart racing in anticipation of kissing those red lips.

He stopped short in his tracks. He'd heard something. Not an animal, but a man. Close. Following him? No, the footsteps had passed him, and continued after he remained still. Good, he was undetected.

The trees in this part of the forest were so thick overhead, they completely blocked the moonlight. The forest was black as pitch, but Robin knew his way so well, he didn't need to see. Still, he wished he could tell who shared the woods with him tonight.

Not wanting to deviate from heading toward Marian, he nonetheless forced himself to follow the man who had unknowingly passed him. He was heading toward Robin's camp! Who knew the woods so well? Who knew his way to camp? Who knew to avoid their traps, for that is just what the man did!

"Allan!" Robin thought, anger searing through him. "What's he doing here?"

Wishing he had his bow, he ran after the man he believed to be Allan and tackled him to the ground. Locked together, they rolled furiously down a hill, and when they stopped rolling, the other man stood and kicked him hard in his gut. Gasping for breath, Robin grabbed the man's ankles and pulled him back to the ground. He delivered a blow to the man's jaw, and received one himself in return.

His shoulder was hurting so badly, and he felt something wet and sticky seep through the fabric of his gown. Great! Blood from his wound! He would look a fine monk, white robe soaked in crimson! Damn the traitor! What did he want with his men tonight anyway?

He ran after the retreating "Allan," sure it was him when he saw the black clothes, and knocked him to the ground again. Straddling his body, he gripped the waist with his knees. He was surprised to feel it much smaller than he expected. This body did not belong to Allan! This body didn't belong to any man! Please God he was not battling a woman! Not only because it was unchivalrous, but because a woman couldn't fight him so fiercely! Hesitating, he cried out in pain when he felt teeth sink into his upper arm.

The sound of his voice stopped the fight.

"Robin?"

"Marian?"

"Robin, is that you? Why are you dressed like a monk? And why did you hit me?"

"Marian, are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"Of course I'm hurt! You punched me in the jaw!" She was so happy to see him, she was both laughing and crying.

"Sorry! I thought you were Allan!"

"Allan! Why would you think that?"

"Many reasons, including you're wearing his clothing." Robin laughed with her, until a jealous thought struck him. "Marian, where did you get Allan's clothes?"

"You don't want to know! Anyway, he wasn't using them." She gasped. "Robin, you're bleeding!"

"Kiss it better?"

"Gladly."

The night was even more glorious than before, in spite of a drenching rain that suddenly poured from the skies, accompanied by a chill wind and a river of mud. When they finally realized they were soaking wet and hurt and sore, the lovers sought shelter in a cave. Outside, a storm raged, but inside, all was warmth and love and laughter.

...

(Note: This story is based on The Ballad of Robin and Marian, written during the 1600s. The only similarity is the plot, which is that Marian misses Robin and wants to see him, so she disguises herself as a page and heads to the forest. Robin is also disguised, and they meet, and not recognizing each other, fight and wound each other. When he speaks, she knows his voice, so they stop fighting and begin kissing. It so sounds like these two, don't you agree?)