Summary: A Wedding, and other definitions of love.
Disclaimer: I do not hold any ownership over the BBC's version of Robin Hood.
"Stop this day and night with me, and you shall possess the origin of all poems." Walt Whitman
o0O0o
It was very late in the day when Marian awoke again. Robin was not in her arms any longer, but she could hear him talking to Little John. They were discussing a wedding. Her wedding. Marian smiled and stretched, sighing as her muscles strained and relaxed deliciously. She had been more tired than she had realized. Facing one's mortality, then being up half the night could do that to a person. Reluctantly she opened her eyes and slowly sat up.
Robin was at her side almost instantly. "Good morning, my love," he greeted her with a kiss to her lips.
"Good morning," she replied when he let her take a breath. Little John had looked away. Djaq was fletching arrows. "Where are Will and Much?"
"Looking for Friar Tuck. Would you like something to eat?" Robin asked.
"Yes," she said, getting to her feet.
"We have bread and bread. And a little ale," Robin offered.
"I shall have bread and ale, then."
After breaking her fast, she settled near Djaq and picked up some mending that had been scattered in a pile. Forest living was hard on one's clothing, and the gang had gotten behind in the mending since she had left. Marian did not mind, it made her feel useful, as she was a very efficient needlewoman. And it was good to be of use. Robin and Little John organized baskets of food for today's drops.
After a short time, she heard loud singing and heavy footsteps. She looked up to meet Robin's eyes. The loud approach would have not been typical of the Sheriff or his men, so it was likely the inebriated monk that was supposed to handfast them, but she worried the noise would attract unwelcome attention. She had to trust Will and Much to keep them safe.
The brother would be no problem – Will and Much led the older man into their midst, leading because he was blindfolded. Once they reached the camp, Will closed the roof and Much pulled off the cloth around the brother's eyes.
"Friar Tuck, I presume?" Robin asked, standing to shake the hand of the monk.
"Robin Hood, I presume?" the newcomer replied in kind.
"You presume correctly," Robin answered.
"As do you," Tuck reached out his hand in blessing. "I understand you are in need of someone to perform a marriage? I was surprised, for I had heard you had preformed a few yourself."
Robin looked sheepish. Marian stood to comment, "He cannot perform the ceremony when he plans to be my bride-groom."
Tuck cast his eyes up and down her form. "And who are you, my dear, to give up a comfortable life to live rough with an outlaw?"
"Marian," she said simply, abandoning her titles and claims.
If he knew her reputation, he did not comment on it. Will offered Tuck a seat, Djaq brought him some ale (weakened with water, for they wanted his wits about him), and the gang settled back in, taking up their tasks again. Marian and Robin settled next to Tuck.
"I would not normally wed outlaws," Tuck began, "but you do the work of the Lord, as far as I can see. You care for the least of God's children, I cannot pretend that I do not approve. You shed as little blood as possible, so I cannot even lecture you on the Lord's own fifth commandment. Yes, children, I shall marry you, but it cannot be a proper wedding, I am afraid. You will not be able to make your mark in a register."
"We have thought of this, Brother," Robin began, "And of course there are other obstacles, mainly to do with lands and titles. So we had hoped you may be able to perform a handfasting ceremony."
"Master- a handfasting? Will not your hands be bound?" Much suddenly interrupted.
"Yes, Much, that is the nature of handfasting," Robin teased.
"So you will not be able to fight should the need arise," Much pointed out.
"Gisbourne-" began John, seeing Much's point.
"The Sheriff!" shouted Will.
"Hush! What is 'handfasting'?" Djaq asked.
Marian laughed. "Much, I am confident that we will be able to free ourselves from our bonds should we suddenly have to fight or flee. John, Will, we were not planning on inviting them, just you four. And Djaq, "handfasting" is a simple, peasant's marriage preformed if a priest cannot be present, or sometimes as a ceremony of betrothal. Obviously we are using it as a marriage. Any more questions?"
Tuck looked at her approvingly. "I have a question for you. You two are aware that handfasting only binds you for a year and a day?"
"It is our hope that the King will be home in that time," Robin told the older man. "Regardless, we are looking at this ceremony as permanent. I have no wish of leaving her."
Marian reached over and squeezed Robin's hand. She smiled into his eyes and said "Nor do I have any wish to leave you." He returned her grin and she went back to her needle.
"Very well," said Tuck. "You have obviously thought this through. Even as an outsider, I can see you two are well matched. You wish for the ceremony to take place tomorrow?"
"Yes," Marian said.
"Very well, the Feast Day of Saint Ethelwold. Now it pains me to say this, but you need to leave your bride now, you both have preparations you must make, and you must make them separately."
"Brother, even for a handfasting?" Robin pleaded.
"Yes, some decorum must be observed! No objections, young Hood. Your lady can stay here, and you and your men must go elsewhere for tonight."
Marian sighed. "I shall see you tomorrow night, my love." She hated to see him go, but Tuck was right. She had to see what she could do for her dress, and… "I must go to one of the villages and get some cords or ropes for us for the ceremony."
"Very well," he said and pulled her into a sudden embrace. He whispered into her ear, "But if you are planning on bathing, perhaps I could meet you before or after?"
She whispered back, "The pond near Barnsdale, an hour before dinner hour." She pulled back, he winked at her, gathered some things. The men did as well, and they prepared to blindfold Tuck again.
"What of you, lad?" Tuck asked Djaq.
"Me?" Djaq asked, surprised. The old brother must be losing his eyesight. "I am a woman!"
"Ah. Well, then I am glad the bride will not be alone, someone must be here to defend her honor," Tuck said neatly.
"You do me no credit," Marian scolded Tuck. "I have been watching my honor all my life, and am prepared to take up arms in defense of myself."
Robin chuckled. "It is one of the reasons I am marrying her, Sir. She needs no defending, and I trust her implicitly. Come on," he said, putting the blindfold on Tuck. "We shall leave the ladies to it."
Almost too soon they were gone and Marian and Djaq were alone. They discussed differences in their religions' weddings, Djaq seemed surprised at how elaborate Christian weddings could be when Marian described them, and Marian thought with envy about the beautiful flowers that Djaq spoke of. The day slipped away from them, and suddenly Marian realized she needed to buy the cords for tomorrow's ceremony. Telling Djaq of her plans for ribbons and a bath, she fled the camp for their stables, prepared a horse, and was on her way.
In Barnsdale, she bought two beautiful ribbons ("Green, and if anyone asks, I was never here.") before heading to the pond that Robin once taught her to fish in.
She was not surprised to find him waiting there.
"You are late," he told her.
"Yes," she told him. "My apologies." She dismounted and wrapped herself in his arms. After a few moments spent kissing him, she stepped out of his embrace again. She reached into her saddle bag and pulled out the ribbons. "Give these to Tuck, but say you met with Djaq. Or do not say anything, I could not care less." She dug around in her pack again and pulled out a shift that she intended on bathing in and a heavy blanket with which to dry herself off. Summer or no, it was cooling off quickly.
Robin saw the shift and said, "Spoil-sport."
"No need for names. Now are you going to join me?"
They dared not stay long at the pond, only enough to bathe and dry again. Night was falling quickly and Marian had to leave, lest Djaq come looking for her. It was almost like being a maid of sixteen again, losing their chaperons and kissing with abandon in the shades of Sherwood until Much caught up with them again.
Back in camp, she had little to say and Djaq was never one to force a conversation. The evening was a blur, and that night in his, their, bunk, Marian thought she would never fall asleep, and before she knew it, she was awake again. Morning had dawned on her wedding day.
She rolled over in the bunk and saw two things. The first was that once again she had slept in very late again. Marian hoped her body did not think night was day and day was night. The second was that Djaq had been busy. Covering every flat surface were beautiful summer flowers for Marian to use to adorn her hair and to make a bouquet.
Marian got up, kissed Djaq's cheek, pulled on the only dress she had brought (a simple, dark green dress that Guy had not bought her, one that she had made with her own hands), combed her hair (leaving it loose, to match the simplicity of everything else), and wove a crown of blooms to wear.
Now to wait the rest of the afternoon for her nuptials.
o0O0o
Djaq had led her to a grove not far from the camp, and it was there that she met Robin. He looked… wonderfully like himself. He had cleaned and mended his clothes, his hair was tidy from last night's efforts, his beard was gone (he must have shaved it this morning), his eyes were bright and his mouth was laughing. He looked so young and clean and fresh, and Marian could not help but feel the same. It was as if they were suddenly youths again, sixteen and nineteen and their whole futures ahead of them. As if the last few years of separation and battle had not parted them.
He clasped her hands in his and breathed, "Marian, you look-" but he was interrupted.
"Are you ready, Robin Hood? Maid Marian?" Friar Tuck questioned from where he stood, in front of the tallest Oak in Sherwood. Such a strange ritual, Marian could not help thinking as they walked towards him. But the ceremony fit the circumstances. Here, with Robin's hand in hers (no traditional escort down the aisle to his waiting form), as they approached a rough altar in the shades of Sherwood at twilight, Marian felt that this was so right. She was almost glad he was an outlaw. Their company could not be more intimate, the finest witnesses in all of England clustered around them; Much, Little John, Djaq, and Will Scarlet. She had never wanted to invite every nobleman within a two-day's riding distance. Here, with his gang, with their friends and allies, well. It fit. They fit.
"I am Robert of Locksley, true Earl of Huntingdon, and outlaw in this forest, and my desire is to be handfasted to the Lady Marian of Knighton, the fierce and noble Nightwatchman, whom I love." He squeezed her hand.
It was strange to hear him to use his full name, and hers, and then to add to it, making her identity clear to him, and to her. The identity she had created for herself these past few years. "I am Lady Marian of Knighton, and my desire is to be bonded to Robin Hood, outlaw in the King's own name, champion of the poor, lord of my heart, whom I love..."
"Do you do this of your own free will? Do you come here today without pressure from other persons?"
"I do," replied Marian, without a pause. Robin squeezed her hand again. No promises made under duress for these vows. No blackmail, and no physical wound to limit her movements or hinder an escape. Just his warm, calloused hand in hers.
"And do you feel able of fulfilling the vows to each other? If either of you feels unequal, now is the time to declare it."
It was strange to feel Robin fall still at her side. He was always restless, full of action, but now afraid the slightest movement would somehow undo this spell they were under.
"Very well," Tuck continued. "Robin, if you will take your bride's left hand in your right; Marian, if you will take your groom's left hand in your right..." Marian laid her bouquet of wildflowers on the altar and clasped hands with Robin. He looked so serious, this ritual was clearly so important to him that he even lacked the mischievous look in his blue eyes that usually flashed when he looked her way.
"...And so you will speak your vows, the same words, plighting the same troth, one to another."
He pulled two green ribbons that Marian had chosen yesterday from his belt and laid them cross-wise over their joined hands.
With Tuck's prompting, Robin vowed, "I, Robin, do give you my heart, and offer you my hands. I shall seek no release from our bond, nor shall I turn away from you. Entreat me not to leave you, or to return from following after you: for where you go, I will go; and where ever you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people. Where you die, I will die, and there will I be buried. Not even death shall part you and me."
When Marian had repeated the vows back to Robin, Tuck tied the two ribbons draped over Robin's and her hands together, into one strong knot, and bound their hands. "As this knot is tied, so are your lives now bound. Two entwined in love, bound by commitment and fear, sadness and joy, by hardship and victory, anger and reconciliation, all of which shall strengthen this union. And though these ribbons shall be removed, the knot shall be set for eternity in these rings you shall wear upon your hands."
Robin coughed nervously. He had forgotten to tell the good brother that they decided not to wear rings. Tuck, having bonded couples before who could not afford rings themselves, recovered easily, "Or rather, in the very blood that runs through your veins. You are bound together, and you make each other stronger as you do so. Look to the world that God created, for you can find no greater strength in the world than this: Above you are the stars, below you are the stones, as time passes, remember...
"Like a stone should your love be firm, like a star should your love be constant. Let the powers of the mind and of intellect guide you in your marriage, let the strength of your wills bind you together, let the power of love and desire make you happy, and the strength of your dedication make you inseparable. Be close, but not too close. Possess one another, yet be understanding. Have patience with one another, for storms will come, but they will pass quickly."
Marian bit her lower lip and gazed into the face of her beloved. How many storms had they already weathered? Too many to even name. She felt Friar Tuck undo the knots he had made and passed them each a ribbon. Marian tied hers around Robin's left wrist; he fastened his around hers.
When this was done, Robin turned to the good brother. "May I kiss my bride now?"
Tuck nodded, "You may. Make a good job of it, Robin Hood."
Without hesitation, Marian stepped into his embrace and raised her chin, both in welcome and as a teasing challenge. Robin bent his head and soon Marian was dizzy from the intensity of their kiss. There was a roaring in her ears (though this turned out to be the gang's cheers of happiness and congratulations, and in Much's case, tears) and her stomach dropped in such a way as to make her thirsty for more of his kisses. Though she was wrapped in his arms, she felt suddenly as if she could not, could never, be close enough to him.
"Lady Hood," he teased her, kissing her nose.
"Lord Nightwatchman," she rejoined.
"Wife," he tried the word on her, as if seeing how it tasted on his tongue.
"Husband," she giggled the second syllable. He kissed her again.
The gang had invited Tuck to the feast, and the seven of them carved into the goose that Much had saved for the occasion. They feasted and laughed and sang well into the night, Tuck growing more and more tipsy with each passing moment, his songs more inappropriate for a man of the cloth. After a time, Robin and Marian quietly slipped away into the night. The gang could not help but notice, but no one commented and no one followed.
Marian allowed herself to be led, dreamily looking around the darkening forest, but after they had walked a mile or so, she pulled on his hands. "Robin, where are we going?"
"A forester's house. It has been empty since all of last winter, and Will and I fixed it up yesterday after our meeting with Tuck. It should be nice and quiet, as well as safe from any prying eyes."
"All the same, that is where you put our weapons today, is it not?"
He shrugged. "Of course I did."
Marian smiled at him. He had thought of everything. "How long have you been planning this?"
"Oh, I am good at planning," he assured her. "Even mad half-plans flesh themselves out." He grinned at her and they continued their walk. It was not much farther. It was a small cottage, Marian doubted it had more than one room. The roof was not even high enough for a loft.
They stopped outside the door. "Well?" Marian asked.
"May I carry you over the threshold?"
"I would be disappointed if you did not." He reached his arms out to lift her, but she stopped him, leaned over to open the door, and then nodded that he could continue. When he picked her up, she could not help but tease, "You are good at planning, are you?"
"I must have been distracted by your bridal blushes," he told her, then kicked the door closed behind them.
"I was not blushing!" She lifted her hand to her cheek, and sure enough, it was quite warm under her fingertips.
"Whatever you say, my love." He set her feet back on the floor, but did not let go. Instead he softly touched his lips to hers. She stroked his now-smooth cheek.
His kisses soon overwhelmed her again, and suddenly he left her lips, his own searching out her eyes, her nose, her ears, her neck… lazily he returned to her lips. Marian lost all sense of time; the only thing that existed was here and now in the darkness. There was not room for anything else in their cottage, in the quickly diminishing space between them.
"Robin," she whispered.
"Marian," he replied.
She pulled away and carefully lifted her crown of flowers. She turned to lay it on the wooden table that was pressed against the wall. Marian lit one of the candles that stood on the table. Robin watched her every action, his eyes dark and piercing. She sat on a small wooden stool and pulled her skirt to her knees and began to untie her boots.
Seeing the heavy, leather foot attire, Robin chuckled, but the desire never left his gaze.
"I am sorry I had nothing finer," Marian misunderstood the laugh and was suddenly self-conscious. Her fingers stilled on her laces. "I did not bring pretty slippers to the forest, and..."
In a moment he was kneeling at her feet. "No, Marian, I was not laughing at you. Never. Moreover, I was pleased that you are so practical. And I was so taken with your beauty that I did not notice the tread of your boots until now." He took her hand, kissed her palm, and finished the work that she had begun. He then shifted to his backside and pulled off his own boots, followed by his socks. She peeled off her own hose. He stood and pulled her back into her arms.
"I still wish I had been able to wear something finer for you."
"Come, Marian, the reality is better than dreaming of finery, is it not? Besides," he leaned in closely, his lips brushing her earlobe, "Finery is all well and good, but on a wedding night, you will not be wearing it for long."
"You better make good on that promise," she said with a small smile.
It came as no surprise to either of them that he did.
o0O0o
Marian awoke the next morning to a small scratching on the door. Robin rolled out of bed and pulled on his trousers.
"Who is there?" Marian asked sleepily.
"Much, probably," Robin said, opening the door. "Oh, the bounty!"
"What are you on about?" Marian leaned out of the bed for a bit of clothing. The closest thing to her was his shirt. She pulled it on, satisfied that the hem fell well past her bum, she rolled up her sleeves and joined him at the door. It seemed the gang had put out quite a spread. "Oh!" Marian picked up a large basket and brought it inside; Robin carried a long bundle that looked like kindling. She opened the basket at the table, mindful of her crown of (wilting) flowers. Inside was fresh milk, bread, a few apples and pears, a fair bit of bacon, some ale, and sweet cakes and honey. In short, everything one might need for a bridal breakfast. As she unpacked a few things, she noticed their plates, cups, and utensils underneath it all.
"What is in yours?" Marian asked.
Robin unwrapped the rags. "Wedding Gifts for you, methinks. They know I need nothing."
"Nonsense, the food is for you," she tried to joke, but her words stilled on her lips when she saw the polished, Saracen bow in Robin's hand. It was slightly smaller than his, but beautifully worked. "Oh, Will," she breathed.
"We also each have a toasting fork," he commented.
She only had eyes for the bow. Her own had burned with her house. Marian had been using spare bows at the camp, but missed the curves of her old long bow, and liked the recurved design of the Saracens'. Will had promised to make her a new bow, but then she went back to the castle… she should have known he would have made her one anyway. "Did you know about this?" Marian took it into her hands and stroked the yew.
Robin shrugged. "I did not know he had finished it. Do you like it?"
"It is beautiful. May we go sight it?" she made a move to string it.
"Oh, I rather thought…" he trailed off.
She stilled. "Yes?"
"Well, we cannot let this food go to waste."
She laughed and rested the bow against the wall. "Perhaps you are right. And I hardly think I can go shoot my bow wearing only your shirt."
"Oh, I have no qualms about that," he teased, wrapping his arms around her. "In fact, let the record state that you may wear my shirt whenever you wish."
She whispered in his ear, "What if I do not wish to wear any clothing at all?"
"Then I shall have to take it off you." In one moment, he was as good as his word and the shirt was on the floor again.
She giggled and scooted back to the bed. Robin surprised her and pulled the basket and the few items she had unpacked onto the bed, following her under the blanket.
"Breakfast in bed?"
"Seems appropriate," Robin said.
"Then, sir, remove your trousers. For if I must be bare, than so must you."
Robin hastened out of them, pushing them out of the bed. Both still wore their ribbons around their wrists. Marian pulled the blankets up to her chest before dishing food onto their wooden plates. His left arm was around her shoulders and the two lovers broke their fast. At the bottom of the basket, Marian discovered a new outlaw tag.
"Welcome to the gang," Robin whispered in her ear.
She knew that her honeymoon was over, and that her new life had begun.
o0O0o
It was hot; hotter than he had remembered. Carter's recent adventure in Sherwood had ruined him for the desert. He already missed the cool forest, full of its greenery. But he had a job to do, and that job included convincing his King to return to England, to put her back on her feet. Especially since most of his funds and many of his knights came from that green land.
The crusader's cross felt heavy on Carter's chest as he led his horse down the gangplank to the waiting sands.
"Crusader?" asked a man at the dock, in Arabic, the language of the Turk.
"Yes," came Carter's response. The red cross and white cassock revealed all anyway.
The man said a string of words so quickly that Carter's rudimentary Arabic could not follow.
"Sorry?" he tried, hoping the man would slow down.
"You – Late!. Lionheart gone. Peace, Crusader." The last was meant as a blessing.
Carter returned the blessing and thanked the dock-man. He was glad of the peace, but where was Richard now? With a worried heart, he turned a led his horse back up the gangplank to negotiate his return to Europe with the Captain. He had a king to find.
o0O0o
Additional Author's Note: Handfasting is a very, very old custom that had a hold in Scotland and Northern England. It usually was considered either a formal betrothal or a trial marriage; after a year and a day, the couple could decide to marry formally or part and marry other people. Or stay together. But also during Medieval times (especially the time we are talking about) a couple did not always have access to a priest, so would vow in front of their community, and then marry the next time they saw a priest.
And as Robin points out, it's particularly primitive to just steal a woman, and then she's yours anyway.
This was considered a perfectly legal marriage. Their vows are compiled from a bunch of google searches and the Bible: Ruth 1:16-17, for those interested.
Sorry if I cheated you out of a bedroom scene. I do not write those for reasons.
SOPA UPDATE! THE "STOP ONLINE PIRACY ACT" IS CURRENTLY BEING DEBATED BY CONGRESS. SOPA IS A RADICAL FORM OF INTERNET CENSORSHIP, ALLOWING FOR ENTIRE WEBSITES TO BE REMOVED IF ONE USER VIOLATES A COPYRIGHT. I HAVE NO IDEA HOW THIS WILL AFFECT FANDOM, EXCEPT, WELL, NEGATIVELY. AS SUCH, IF IT PASSES, I WILL POST ALL THE CHAPTERS OF "A YEAR AND A DAY" IMMEDIATELY, AND HOPEFULLY, YOU WILL GET A CHANCE TO READ IT/PRINT IT OFF BEFORE GETS BLOCKED IN THE US. See my author's profile for more information re: my fanfiction.