Marian felt herself being lifted off the pyre, and dumped on one of the rider's horses. To be specific, on one of the rider's horse's rump. Talk about embarrassing, thought Marian as she rolled her eyes. I guess it's a good thing that they put the hood on though. Nobody can see how red my face is getting.

When the rider jostled his horse into a trot, Marian made a mental note to spit in his face when they stopped. Bounced up and down with her hands tied behind her back was not exactly a walk anywhere. So, after about 10 minutes of being bumped around, almost falling off twice, and hearing the rider snicker both times, Marian was extremely happy when they stopped. The horses halted, and Marian heard the riders dismount and start to talk to one another in a strange flowing language. She stayed on the horse though. After a few minutes of careful planning, she slipped off backwards. She never hit the ground.

"Come now. None of that. Can't have a bruised bride, can we?" Marian recognized the speaker as the Marak the magistrate was talking to with such respect. Marian froze. He was carrying her. His boots crunched on rocks, and Marian heard the ripple of water on the shore. She started to fight his grip. Marak just held tighter, and his feet left the waterside. "Don't you want to wash, or do something like that?" His voice held some kind of wonder.

She didn't answer, just fought harder. Marak sighed, and brought her back to the tree where the horses were. He untied her hands, then tied them again, only this time in front of her.

xxxxxXXxxxxx

"Was that really necessary? Retying her hands?" Oren asked when Marak joined them. "She should be grateful enough that you saved her. She wouldn't run, would she?"

Marak shrugged. "I don't even have the heart to tease her. I took her down over to the water to see if she would like to wash up, or have a drink. Do you know what she did? Froze like a deer, then started to fight. When I asked her if she wanted to do what I mentioned, she just fought harder. What did I do?" Marak looked at his companions. Finally, Garon, a normal enough looking goblin with rams' horns, spoke up. "Your Majesty, when we rescued the girl you spoke of "dealing" with her. I think that she believes that you mean to kill her. She might of thought you wanted to throw her into the water."

Marak sighed, and looked over at his bride. She was shivering with cold. No wonder. She only wore a patched tunic. "We need to go back home. She's shivering, and I want her to see that she will be safe." Marak took off his cloak, and approached the girl. She heard his footsteps, and inched back. "Shhh…" Marak whispered as he untied her feet. She responded by kicking him in the face. Marak winced at the pain, then sighed again as she tried to run away. "You'll hurt yourself, stumbling through the woods blind like that." A dry sob was his answer. When he tried to reach for her, she tried to bite his fingers. "Well then, that's gratitude for you." Her tied hands balled into fists. Marak knew that she would hurt someone if she kept up, so with another sigh of regret, he blew on her heart. She went limp, and he caught her before she could hit the ground again. This time, she began to sob in earnest.

xxxxxXXxxxxx

Marian's efforts to stop crying were useless. She just couldn't hold the tears back. It was like trying to hold back the flood with only a small twig. The only thing she could see was the inside of the sack, but she did feel the cold when it bit her like a pack of dogs. There was hardly any wind, but she shivered. When she heard someone stepping towards her, she tried again. Murmuring words, then being unable to move at all. Marian started to cry even more.

"What did you do to me?" She choked out between sobs. She fought whatever was being done to her. It was useless; she was stuck unable to move with people who wanted to kill her.

"Are you cold?" Instead of answering her question, her captor asked something totally out of the blue. She glared at him before answering, "Yes, I am. Why does it matter t—" She was cut off by a cloak being settled around her shoulders. She blinked in wonder, and moved her fingers to feel it. Then she noticed two things; One, she could move and two, the cloak was soft and comforting.

"Can I have the hood taken off please?" Marian asked. Maybe manners could get her out.

"Eh…." Her captor (though she thought of him more of a rescuer by now) seemed strangely loathe to remove the sack covering her face. "Wait until we get on the horse."

She heard rustling cloth, then felt the ropes around her feet being taken off. She wanted to rub the spots where they were, but she needed to let them think she was still under whatever "spell" they had put her under. So, she remained still when whoever it was wrapped the cloak around her more, and lifted her. She felt the warmth of a horse beneath her, but this time she was upright, with arms holding her from behind.

"How about now?"

xxxxxXXxxxxx

Marak looked at the elf he had in front of him with faint surprise. "You're persistent." Silence from his wife-to-be. "Fine. You win this time." Marak lifted the sack, and put it in a pocket. She was everything he could have dreamed of. Fiery red hair, pale lily-soft skin, and to cap it all of, she had black eyes. Marak traced one of the tracks of her tears with a black finger.

"You're finger is black, kind of like night sky." His elf remarked, her voice wary with a slight bit of fear in it.

Marak laughed then, and was rewarded with a slight frown from the girl in his arms. "Well, my name is Marak Ebonyskin." He snickered at her thoughtful expression. "Well, my name is Marian." She said, doing her best to act limp in his arms.

They rode in silence before Marak gave into the considerable temptation and said "You can stop acting limp now. It's getting hard to make sure you don't fall off." Marian looked up at him in astonishment, and then gave a small "eep".

"You have black skin. And yellow eyes. And snow white hair. What are you?" He heard her question him, and decided it wouldn't hurt to answer with the whole truth. "I am a Goblin King, and you are going to be my wife."

"Oh."

Marak could hardly believe what she said next.

"What's a goblin?"