Sorry if the formatting is a bit off. This was written on Notepad.
It was a beautiful and calm summer night and as Marian looked out her bedroom window to the forest's edge, she could almost pretend to see Robin sauntering arrogantly out, cheeky smile on his face, bouquet of wild flowers in his hand to bring to her like he used to when they were young. It was amazing that after all she had been through, after she had grown up and changed so much, that the thing that could still make her most happy in the world and make the corners of her own lips turn slightly up at the mere thought of it was that smile. Some things never change.
While others do. Her smile faded as quickly as it had come as she recalled the dozens of soldiers that were currently "protecting" Knighton Hall from such outlaws. Though she could not see them, she could hear a few of the less-than-dedicated ones trading castle rumours casually around the corner of the house. It had been six weeks since her would-be wedding day and though events had moved so infuriatingly quickly on that potentially life-changing day, life seemed to have been at a standstill ever since.
"...Lady Marian..." She sat straight up and tore her eyes away from the night and begin to listen when she heard her name below. It seemed that she still held her honorary spot in castle gossip.
"That's not true. He can't be that daft," one of the guards' voices said in disbelief in response to the other's previous comment.
The other guard sounded somewhat offended at his colleague's distrust, "Yeah...my wife who works in the kitchen at the castle overheard Guisborne defending Lady Marian to the Sheriff. It seems that Robin Hood not showing up at Knighton even after all this time has convinced him that all the rumors about them are untrue." He paused for effect before continuing. "Guisborne thinks they should call all of us off...figures Marian was using Robin as a way out of Locksley.
Though I'm not sure how that makes it any better, considering it was him she was running from."
The second guard snorted. "All I know is that I was there to witness the running away and she didn't look too torn up that her way out of there was Hood." The night was silent for a moment and Marian believed the topic to be abandoned before the second guard continued, "What did the Sheriff say to all of this?"
"Well, you know him. He's all dramatic and 'off with the head!,' but anything along those lines would be a very unpopular decision amongst the nobles. Besides, my wife figures the Sheriff thinks he has a better chance of catching Hood with the lady alive...at least for now."
Marian stole one last glance at the woods before shutting the window and moving to her bed. She had heard all of this before. Robin and his men had retreated far into Sherwood as the Sheriff had used his illegitimate wealth to hire more guards with which to constantly patrol the outer forest. She had heard talk that in the days following their foiling of the Sheriff's plan, one of Robin's men had been seriously wounded by the Sheriff's new "security" measures, but she had been unable to confirm or deny this rumor despite her best and most likely foolish efforts.
Ever since that day, Marian had been avoiding the castle at all costs, only going when she must to keep up appearances. Though much of the past three years had been a pretense, the noble mask she wore everyday that had before seemed enough to protect her even from the Nightwatchman's escapades had become so thin that she did not dare to remove it even to speak out against the Sheriff's cruel and tyrannical ways in private. The only thing worse than her inability to fight back at the injustices being performed everyday around her was not seeing Robin. The combination of these two realities was almost unbearable at times.
She sometimes allowed herself to remember the kiss she and Robin had shared right before parting ways. They had both been so happy.
Everything had seemed okay for the first time since Robin had left for war all those years ago. If only they had known that their separation had been for so long. She would have never let go.
Marian turned in her bed and shut her eyes fiercely. She tried not to think about Robin. Tried to distract herself with the other things in her life. She reminded herself that though she was currently protected by 15 guards, those men were there to keep her in as much as they were to keep Robin out - that though, to the unsuspecting observer, she was in no danger, her life was perhaps as threatened now as it was six weeks ago when she lay dying in Robin's cave and she should be spending all her free thoughts trying to devise a way out of this ever-present peril. But the nighttime had always been when she was weakest. Marian thought back to those years when Robin had been in the holy lands and she had tried everything she could not to think of him, not to worry about him. Because he did not deserve her concern. Because he had left her, remember? But just as she did all those years ago when she was so young and such a different person, she found herself in the dark of the night when no one was around but her to listen, say his name painfully into the silence, begging him to whisper her's back, "Robin..."
Some things never change.
Marian awoke the next morning to the rooster's call. She had kept busy the past month and a half by helping to keep Knighton in order. Her father,
though still in good health, was much older than he would like to admit and Marian did not like to tempt fate by allowing him to worry too much about the state of his property. Also, without the actions of the Nightwatchman to quell her desires to help the less fortunate, she had concentrated her efforts on the people of Knighton. At least they would be well cared for, if not all the others of Nottinghamshire.
Once Marian had dressed in one of her less glamorous outfits, she walked the length of Knighton to the house at the farthest reach of her land.
The blacksmith's family lived there, just a man and his three children now that his wife had died a few years back. Marian smiled as the oldest of the children, James, came out of the small, but sturdy house. He smiled back, his arm held up in front of him, shielding his face from the sun rising behind Marian.
"Good morning, M'lady," James said lowering his arm as Marian walked slowly up to the house. "Oh...you really don't need to do that," he protested as Marian picked up one of the baskets he had laid down on the ground next to his feet.
Marian smiled charmingly, "Nonsense, James. I want to. And how many times do I have to ask you to call me Marian?!" She began to walk toward the chicken coop,
"Are you coming?" she teased playfully.
Helping James collect the eggs in the morning was one of the many chores Marian had adopted to help fill her free time. She had grown bored of her stitchwork after her first week of self-imposed confinement at Knighton Hall and had immediately began looking for other activities to fill her time. Her mornings with James were one such activity and were quickly becoming one of the things she most looked forward to most in her daily schedule. The majority of her time was spent with her father and though she loved him dearly, he was a great deal older than her. She missed spending time with younger people and James was only a year younger than her. To be perfectly honest, James' youthful spirit reminded her a bit of Robin exuberantly carefree attitude.
In addition, once she had gotten James to relax a bit in her presence, she learned a great deal about the goings on of Knighton Hall that she had previously had no knowledge of. She was hoping to learn even more about the tight-knit community once James became more comfortable around her, which she hoped was soon.
She had even gotten him to call her Marian without prodding the day before.
They gathered the eggs in companionable silence before Marian asked curiously, looking around at all the chickens, "What happened to the big black one?"
James chuckled slightly under his breath before looking up at her, "You don't remember what you had for your father's birthday last night?"
Marian gasped horrified as she momentarily stopped picking up the eggs and put down her basket, "But he was my favorite."
James, his basket full, placed it on the ground and began to place the remainder of the eggs into Marian's basket. "That's what I told John when they came to pick one out to slaughter, but they didn't believe me. And she was the fattest."
Marian, the last egg she picked still in her hand, "It almost makes me want to swear off chicken for the rest of my life."
"Not me," James said seriously as he picked up the two now full baskets. "A hearty meal like that. Could keep me going for weeks." He began the walk back to his house. Marian watched him go for a moment before following. Sometimes when she forgot that her life was so different from James'. Then she said something completely insensitive and remembers. As she caught up to James and took one of the baskets from him, she wondered if her life was that much better. She would swear off chicken for life if it meant a simple life with Robin.
James and Marian parted company when they reached his house. He spent his days helping his father, whereas her next stop was in the kitchen. When she reached the back door and stepped into the kitchen, it was already bustling with activity for the morning's breakfast. The three women who worked in the kitchen were always so full of energy, a trait she supposed was necessary for such a job, but she still did not know how they managed the frantic pace.
"Oh, give me those, Lady Marian," the youngest, Betsy, a teenage girl with light hair and sparkling blue eyes said as she noticed Marian standing in the doorway with a basket of eggs in either hand. She rushed forward and took one, but as she reached for the other, Marian shook her head.
"Don't be silly," Marian said as she smiled, "Where can I put them?" Betsy gestured for Marian to follow her as she made her way to the otherside of the room.
"Is there anything else I can help you with?" Marian asked, waiting for the usual response.
Martha, Betsy's mother who shared Betsy's vibrant eyes, was beginning to crack some of the eggs into a mixture. "Lady Marian, I really must insist that you leave.
This is our job. We should be doing the work."
Marian smiled knowingly before saying, "We both know from experience that I am an enthusiastic debater and will not be easily detered from my goal." Martha locked eyes with her sister, Margaret before nodding and gesturing towards her sister.
"You can help Margaret with the fruit," she said quickly before turning immediately back to her work.
Marian had helped out in the kitchen a handful of times over the past two weeks. She had, at first, been reluctant to volunteer, afraid that with her minimal skills in the area, she might just get in the way, but after watching on several occasions she eventually convinced Martha and Margaret to let her lend a hand.
The breakfast was almost done only thirty minutes later and with Marian's father due downstairs at any moment, she had to hurry if she wanted to change into better clothes before the meal. Though Marian had a hunch that her father would disapprove of her helping around the property, her instincts had been confirmed when one of the older children of Knighton had let it slip that she had delivered a message to the bordering property for him. Edward had been most displeased with this news, yelling at Marian about how she should be more concerned with her image than ever: "how does it look, a noble doing a servant's work? Why do you risk these things?' All of Marian's rebuttals had been wholly ignored, though she never did tell him sincerely her main motivation in doing these things. In addition to her natural curiosity, as well as her genuine desire to help, she sometimes dreamed that once Robin returned, she could live in Sherwood with him where such skills as cooking would be useful. She did not admit this to her father because she hardly ever admitted it to herself. It was a childish fancy, the kind of which she had stopped believing in long ago. Nonethless, following her father's outburst the people of Knighton now knew to keep their mouths shut when it came to Marian's extra-curricular activities.
When Marian came down to the table ten minutes later, her father was at the door, reading a letter that had just arrived. Marian sat at her end of the table as Betsy came in from the kitchen and not seeing Edward exclaimed, "Lady Marian, the muffins are perfect. You are a natural cook!" Marian's eyes flared,
trying to communicate to Betsy that her father was in the room, but it was too late. He moved from the door, the letter in his hand, a look of horror etched on his face.
"Father, I'm sorry, but you can't expect me to - " Marian began, but her protests went unacknowledged by her father as he cut her off.
"Robin's been spotted at the castle." Marian's heart jumped at the mere mention of his name, however the only outward signs of her true feelings on the subject was a small smile on her otherwise impassive face that slowly faded as her father continued, "Guy of Guisborne is dead."