A hopeful one-shot, a dream, really. I hope you enjoy, let me know!
The title is meant in the sense of the emotion and the family-pack sense.
Pride
Locksley was under darkness. The sky's legacy enforced on the snoring village an eeriness that seduced all activity into silence. Employing as much stealth as her Nightwatchman days had afforded her, Marian made her movements and that of her horse as hushed as possible. Their figures swam spookily in the sparse starlight as they navigated through the high, ticklish grass then across the dust-dry earth. The moonlight was masked by kohl-clouds that floated along with such fatigue and moodiness Marian was instantly reminded of the man she was supposed to have suppered with.
She had tied sack-cloth onto the horse's hooves to muffle the echoes as they entered the stables. As soon as she had cared for the horse, Marian flitted into the manor, avoiding chairs and candle-stands and the large oak table as she attempted entry without detection. The house was fermented in shadow, darker still than outside. In her guilty mind, Marian could see the infuriated way in which her husband must've blown out the candles. He was experienced enough by now not to wait up and berate her and yet Marian was still irked that he had made it as impossible for her as possible. The stubborn mule.
"Self-righteous-" There was a creak from upstairs that stifled her.
Eventually, she reached the staircase without so much as a creak herself, but was halted by a sudden wooziness. Her hand swept to her stomach as she closed her eyes and swallowed, inhaling deeply and calmly. Still light-headed, Marian steadily travelled up the stairs. Once at the chamber door she pushed it open gently, skimming through the slim gap and thinking how she could have made it through a thinner gap but a month ago.
The clouds had dawdled away by now and the moon's milky light glowed through the small rectangle of the open window situated to the direct right of the bed. In it, the beast slumbered. Marian smirked to herself as she began to unbutton her simple dress, left in her under-gown in a matter of seconds. Carefully, she crept over to the window-side of the bed, pinched the corner of the fur-covers and pulled it up tentatively, sinking in and covering herself in a breath.
The comfort was almost too good and with an ample smile Marian stretched out her legs and inhaled the smell of home- the distinct musk, the warm nuttiness, the subtle hints of lavender from her husband's baths, the rose oil she used on her hair, sweet hay and- she couldn't deny it- the arousing current of male sweat. More than home, it was the smell of them. She began to settle and was more than ready for sleep, when,
"Almost undetected."
Marian sighed as Guy turned over. She didn't need to look to see his glare but was surprised by the somewhat amused tone in his voice, rougher and with more rumble from tiredness.
"I'm sorry I couldn't join you for supper," Marian said, complying to the ritual script.
"No. You're not." He was chiding her.
"Fine- no, I'm not," she instantly replied, defensive. "But, granted, I should have told you."
"Wouldn't that somewhat defeat the object of spontaneity?"
"Pardon?"
"Well, that was the point of the exercise, the excursion, was it not?" Still came the amusement despite definite ire.
"I felt imprisoned." Marian glanced away, cheek burning from Guy's stare.
"I felt sick. With worry."
"I apolo-" Guy's finger stopped her, light on her lips. He took it away and Marian tasted salt.
"I have been enlightened," he informed her.
"Enlightened?" Marian couldn't help but smile at the hint of boyish pride.
"It struck me as I was... storming off-" Marian was pleasantly surprised by the rare account of Guy mocking himself- "to send guards in your wake, that you are not a stupid Lady. In other words, you would not knowingly endanger yourself in your condition."
"Our condition," Marian corrected, quietly. Guy was touched, she knew, but she could still feel the buzzings of a storm.
"Marian, we cannot risk our lives in the same manner as before. You cannot. Will not. Do you hear me?"
"I'm not a child," Marian bit out, folding her arms and closing her eyes, willing the conversation to be over, for her to be able to sleep and get away with her 'excursion' as Guy had so patronisingly called it.
"No, but I am your husband- your protector and guardian and honestly, returning to find you gone showed me up not only as a poor husband but a poor Lord. There is a reputation I must, we must, uphold, responsible and-!"
"You're not a poor husband," Marian interrupted, fingers tracing up Guy's thigh, over his cotton braes. His hand stopped her.
"Marian," he warned, darkly. Her head rolled on the pillow, lips parting to breathe out and ensnare his. She heard his low, one-beat chuckle and gave up. He knew her too well. "Marian, you will stay here."
"You speak as though I would endanger this child's life! As though I don't care! Riding, with child, is not dangerous. I am more than proficient at riding and-" She shivered as she felt Guy's nose silk around her ear.
"Oh, I know that," he intimated, archly. Marian smiled- he had tried resisting but Marian had appealed to Guy's core, the hunger that- when unsatisfied- made him the terror and villain all knew him to be. Marriage and all that it had entailed had awakened the original Guy and slowly but surely, together, Guy was both repenting and reforming. Slowly.
Marian turned her head to kiss Guy quickly. His hand shot to her jaw, fingers sinking into her hair as he transformed the kiss into a wordless war. She tried to overpower him but- decidedly exhausted by her afternoon and night riding through the outskirts and forests- he won through sheer strength. His hands were fetters on her wrists, body raised above hers. It was playful, but serious. Serious play.
"Guy," Marian breathed, breaking the kiss, "I will not be controlled."
"I know."
"I will not be caged."
"I know."
"Then why do you insist on my incarceration?!"
"Marian, I married you fully aware of your fire and your past. But I... I will not allow any chance for jeopardising our child, no matter urges or desires to feel free." He was scathing now. "I don't think... if it came to it, I hope I would try my utmost, but I don't think I could protect you from yourself if anything... if anything happened, I don't know-"
"Guy, I barely rode. I walked Jasper most of the time. The exercise is good, I know it, it feels good. Healthy."
"You would see my downfall."
She heard Guy fall back onto the bed, felt the sigh that simmered through him. She edged over to him, one hand resting on his chest, the other gently turning his face towards hers. Her thumb stroked over the prickles of stubble, sending a tingle shooting up her arm.
"Guy," she said, softly. "Be calm. I am not so flippant, so uninvested as you seem to think."
"You would not behave so if it was H-"
"If it was Robin Hood's child? I would act exactly the same way and he would probably act exactly the same way as you are now!"
"But-"
"I married you, Guy. We're past all that, this is real. It's no heist. There is no trickery in this love. I love you-" she kissed the side of his nose- "And I love this child." Her hand found his under the covers and guided it to her abdomen. She could feel his nerves, almost his shyness, as he touched her stomach so gingerly. She pressed his hand harder.