Thick and Blunt
This is the scene in series 1 episode 4 told from Marian's point of view. I own nothing!
I take a needle out of the draw and thread the string through it. Robin, sitting on the bed, looks around the little room.
"This needle is thick and blunt," I warn him, "Are you prepared?"
"'Tis the way you sell it," deadpans Robin. I sit down next to him.
"You'll need to take off your shirt," I say, far too quickly and breathlessly for it to sound natural. For once, Robin doesn't notice, and obediently stands up to remove his shirt. I try to avert my eyes from his bare chest but it is too difficult and I let my gaze wander across his arms and his chest and his back. He is thin, much thinner than in the old days, but still as muscular as he used to be. I notice a deep gash on his side. Robin notices me looking at it.
"Saracen attack on the King," he explains, "Caught us unawares. To this day I do not know how,"
"Is this why you returned?"I inquire, realising that I haven't actually asked him.
"The stitching became infected," Robin confirmed, looking up to the ceiling with his green-grey eyes, "I took a fever, and when I woke the King had gone South, with orders for me to return to fully recover,"
I dab at the arrow wound with a wet cloth, resisting the temptation to run my fingers down his arm.
"So you return and take instantly to the woods?" I say, the sharp reply coming before I can decide whether to use it or say something sympathetic. My mouth takes over though, as always, and I say something spiteful even if I don't want to. I accidentally press too hard with the wad of cotton wool.
"Aah!" cries Robin.
"It must be clean or you will take another fever," I tell him, my voice too cold. I begin to sew and a silence which is neither awkward no uncomfortable falls, with only the sound of my sticking to break it.
"So," begins Robin, "You never told me. When I was in the Holy Land, you must have had suitors?" Well, what do you think, Robin? I know why he's asking, because it makes him proud to know I must have turned down suitors. I pull hard on the thread and Robin cries out in pain.
"I must," I say, not meeting his eyes.
"It is surprising you are not married," Robin persists.
"It is. Yet when one considers marriage requires a man, perhaps not,"
Robin grins at me, his huge, handsome grin that melts my heart. But I can't let him know that.
"A word of advice," I say fiercely, "Your charms, such as they are, stopped working on me at least five years ago," That's a lie, Marian, and you know it. Robin's smile broadens.
"A challenge,"
"A statement," I tug the string sharply with my little finger.
"OW!" cries Robin, jumping slightly.
"That hurt?" I inquire
"YES!"
"Good," The coldness in my voice is intentional this time. He knows I turned down suitors because I was waiting for him, he knows his well-practiced charms make my heart race.
I finish sewing and tie the thread up.
"Just tying off," I murmur. Robin dips his head and gives me a long look. I concentrate hard on the knot to avoid looking back at him. I know he is going to say something flirty and charming, so I have time to arrange my face into a plain, emotionless expression.
"Kiss it better?" says Robin almost innocently. I yank the thread again to shut up him.
"Aah!" he wails.
"Dome," I say casually, as if nothing has happened. It has probably been the deepest conversation the two of us have had in five years. Robin is being extremely smug and cocky and annoying and...brave and strong and loyal. Oh, I'm in love with him.
Thanks for reading. Please review and let me know what you think. I'm thinking of doing a chapter 2 of the same scene from Robin's POV, let me know if you think I should.