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Part 9
A fortnight later and things were much the same as they had been when Robin first discovered Marian was still alive. She still disappeared at odd times of the day to help in a refuge run by the Knights Hospitaller, which opened it doors to the poor, starving, ill and homeless people of the city.
Marian still did not remember her past, although looked forward to talking with Robin. They spent long hours talking and he found he could laugh again from the bottom of his heart. He had little to say on who he knew, things he had done as a man. He spoke mostly of his nameless estate he clearly held dear, with a few anecdotes on his childhood, careful not to mention occasions when Marian had been present.
One night on her return from the refuge, the servants all retired to their beds Marian helped herself to a late night snack in the kitchen, then wandered down the passageway to her own chamber. She paused on the corridor side of Robin's room, then gingerly and silently opened his door. A shaft of light fell into the room from the candle in her hand and it landed on Robin's face as he lay sleeping. She leant against the door jamb and watched him, his face seemed untroubled in sleep and she smiled. Marian wished that just his presence sparked some recognition in her being of the past she had blocked out, but it did not and she sighed suddenly frustrated with her life and what it had become.
Marian as if on autopilot walked into the room and closed the door behind her. The candle lit up the blackness enough for her to see where she was heading. She sat upon the bed and laid the candle to rest on a rough hewn stool nearby, so that it still bathed Robin with its fiery beauty. Reaching forward she traced the line of his face with the pad of her fingertips. He began to stir and she repeated the action enjoying the feel of his face against her skin until he woke.
"Marian!" He said, sitting upright in bed and pulling the cover up to his neck. "What are you doing here?"
"Watching you," she replied as innocently as she could manage, faintly amused that she had visibly flustered him.
He took a deep breath and swallowed hard, the light seemed to make her more beautiful or perhaps it was just the fact that she was here with him now. Or maybe it was that his heart still beat only for her.
"You ought to go to bed," he told her, like as a parent scolding their small child.
She looked pointedly at him unimpressed with his comment and added. "That is why I am here."
"Marian," Robin answered, pulling the covers even higher so that his chin was hidden too. She snatched the sheet unexpectedly from him and he sat there looking at her, naked from the waist up and she caught sight of his scar, as the light illuminated it clearly.
"Where did you get that?" she asked, tentively reaching out and touching the rough skin, intermingled with smooth.
She openly admired his torso. He was glad that the hours he had put in of hard physical labour had honed his body. At the time it had been an outlet and a focus for his grief as he helped to rebuild the lives of those in Nottingham and beyond.
"The Crusades," he replied shortly, his breath snatched from him by her touch.
"I have scars." She said almost her herself with a resigned sigh.
"I know," Robin replied, his voice hardly audible.
"You know?" Marian asked, raising her eyebrows questioningly at him.
"When you 'died' in my arms you had been stabbed, that must have left one scar. The previous year you were also stabbed that time with a dagger which almost too cost you your life. I have not seen your scars I just know they are there." He explained, not adding that he was very aware of emotional scars she carried, which would count for the memory loss.
"Oh," she replied softly.
Unable to help himself he added. "All three were committed by the same man."
"The man who hurt me, hurt me twice? Did this to you?" she asked for confirmation.
Robin nodded. "Yes………. You need not worry he is now dead."
"Did you kill him?" she asked, her brow creasing to a frown.
"No, but I wanted to many times." He admitted honestly.
"For killing me?" Marian asked, and he nodded unable to trust himself to reply.
Finally he said. "So why are you here? In my room, in the middle of the night."
"You are my husband I am your wife should we not share a bed?"
"I do not think this is the time." He told her. "Will? Djaq?"
"What of them? I am married to you and no one else, according to both of them and you."
He smiled wryly at her and replied. "That is true."
"I want to know what it feels like to be held by you…to be touched by you, to be….."
"Stop!" he said more loudly than he intended, his mind telling him one thing, his heart and his body another.
"Robin! Are you always this infuriating?"
He laughed then and she realised that she like the tone of his humour. "We often infuriated each other." He confirmed.
"Oh," she smiled back and reached forward to draw him towards her. He hardly breathed as her hand caressed his neck and sent electric shock waves through his body. She added. "You know my mind does not remember you, but ever since that day we were alone on the balcony I realised my heart does."
"Marian…" he whispered his heart thundering so loudly in his ears he was sure Marian could hear it too.
Their lips met and mingled together, tasting, teasing and he drew her down upon the bed with him. The candle still illuminating them with an ethereal glow until it finally died, but with that came the light of the brand new day.
