Part 2
The cave was basic, it served it's purpose being dry and less exposed to the harsh winter weather than sleeping outside in Nottinghamshire would be, but it was far from the luxury of Marian's childhood, or Robin's for that matter. The cave was a good size, the roof low in places which irked John particularly at times. And when the days were very dire at least one other person would rub another up the wrong way and an argument would develop, usually petty and insignificant.
The wind suddenly rushed through the outer cave as it changed direction and Marian was pleased they were within the sanctuary of the inner cave. Robin was close she could almost feel him breathing as she lay there awake in the darkness. She was, she finally admitted cold, more than that it seemed to seep right into her very bones and she was glad her father had not lived, only to endure this lifestyle for the winter surely would have killed him off if the guard at the castle hadn't.
It had been several weeks since they had moved to the cave and each day grew colder. It was almost Christmas now and she wondered if it was not for the fact they needed to eat and have fuel to make a fire that they all would hibernate until spring. Being cooped up with the gang in the cave until then however did not fill Marian with joy, she was sure cabin fever would take over if in fact it had not already begun.
The past few weeks she had gotten along better with Robin to the point that their relationship was blooming, they still fought and she knew they always would. But she loved him there was no one else for her She moved curled up in a ball but that had no effect she was still cold, freezing would be a better word. She was contemplating curling up next to Robin when she became aware that all was not as it should be with him. He was muttering in his sleep and she wondered why she hadn't noticed it earlier.
Robin's mind was a myriad of dreams, dreams of the Holy Land mixed in with people from Nottingham making the whole thing a giant muddle he woke suddenly when instead of Gisborne holding his sword ready to kill the King he was aiming at Robin instead. His body jerked as he woke his breathing uncontrollable as he took stock of where he was and who he was with.
"Robin?"
Her voice came to him as it had done in the dream, from a faraway place. He felt his heart pumping blindly in his chest as still half in the dream world began to instinctively think of the fact he had to save her from Gisborne. No he rationalised Gisborne was not here, not in the cave. He was in Nottingham warm and well fed in his bed not like the outlaws who for now every day was a bitter and harsh matter of survival.
"Robin."
She spoke again, her voice holding concern for his well being and he knew he ought to respond.
Clearing his voice he said ever so quietly, "I was dreaming."
"Of the Holy Land."
He smiled into the darkness and replied. "That and other things."
"You want to tell me about it," she offered.
He laughed then and added, "It does not matter."
"If it woke you then it surely does," she argued.
He turned onto his side so that he faced her, now that his eyes had adjusted to the lack of light he could make out her face even if he was unable to define her features, which were inscribed on his heart anyway. He went on then to tell her the dreams that tormented his soul and after relieving himself of the burden felt much better.
"So why are you not sleeping?" he finally asked he.
"I was cold," she told him.
"Cold?" he said in mock surprise. "Why did you not wake me?"
"I was considering it when you began to mutter in your sleep."
"Come," he simply said and opened his cloak for her to slide beneath; he wrapped it snugly about the pair of them before pulling Marian's single blanket atop. "Better?" he whispered he felt the nod of her head beneath his chin and waited until her breathing evened out and knew she was asleep before finding a restful slumber himself.
