Chapter Twelve:

Robin stood still, struck dumb with surprise for a moment before glancing at the face of Francis. Francis was very handsome. Robin felt sick. "Marian's fiancé?"

"Yes," replied the Duke shortly. He then proceeded to shove Robin out of the way and march up to Lord Fitzgerald. "I have heard about Marian, dreadful news, terribly sorry I couldn't come and visit earlier. Francis and I had business to attend to in London." Lord Fitzgerald looked awfully tired all of a sudden. "Where is Marian?" asked Francis. "I have been pining to see her."

You don't know what pining is, Francis, thought Robin angrily. But he was jolted from his thoughts by the tugging (and not very gentle tugging, either) on his arm by a very disgruntled Uncle, although his uncle had the decency to not cause a scene (that, and he recognized just who was the underdog here).

"Marian… is still unconscious, I'm afraid," said Lord Fitzgerald wearily, sinking into a nearby chair. "The physician has said it would be best if she were not to be disturbed. And Robin has been kind enough to fetch a Doctor Timothy Lewis from Derbyshire for her." At this, the occupants of the room turned to look at Robin. Uncle immediately ceased his tugging. Robin cleared his throat. "We all want the best for Marian."

"Of course. That goes without saying," sneered the Duke pityingly. Francis stepped forwards a little, "I don't believe we've met. My name's Francis. Francis Milberg. My father," he nodded in the direction of the Duke, "is the Duke of Milberg." He shook hands with Robin. "Locksley. Robert of Locksley, but everyone calls me Robin," replied Robin. He felt sure that if this young man were not the fiancé of Marian, they could have been great friends.

At this moment, Bernadette rushed into the room. "My Lord, a Doctor Timothy Lewis for you." Lord Fitzgerald promptly rose from his seat and strode to the door to greet the entering doctor, a worldly-looking small man with an abundance of wispy white hair and wrinkly skin. His voice was raspy when he spoke. "I am Doctor Timothy Lewis. There was a young lady afflicted that I was summoned for, was there not?"

No more needed to be said, the good doctor was immediately escorted to Marian's room to examine her.

(o) - O - (o)

"You love her."

This question threw Robin off guard. He and Francis had been seated outside in the garden, silent in their worry for Marian. Their fathers and uncles had chosen to remain inside after it became apparent that neither party were about to leave (with the exception of Robin's Uncle - forced to stay by his nephew).

"What did you say?"

"I said that you love Marian."

Robin blinked and brought his gaze to meet the one of Francis. "Yes, I do. I don't believe in dishonesty, so I shall honestly say that I love her very much." After a fierce contest of stares, Francis looked away and sighed. "I thought as much. I do too, you know; very much. She really does mean a lot to me. In the time that I have gotten to know her, she has completely enchanted me. I lied earlier, I knew who you were the moment I set foot in the door. You're the famed Robert of Locksley. You're the Robin Hood that Marian was always murmuring about."

Robin didn't speak, he was afraid to. He only closed his eyes and waited to hear the rest.

"Never a day that I spent with Marian did she forget to mention you in some way. Not outright; never outright. But she'd close her eyes like you are now and remember something you said and accidentally say something about this 'Robin'. I knew, then, that she loved you. I knew that her heart had no space for me. But I hoped and I waited and I proposed.

"I proposed for many reasons: I love her like nothing else in this world, I want to make her happy, I enjoy her companionship. But my father also strangely supported the union with overwhelming fervour. In fact, he had introduced us from the very start. I thought it was a bit strange, so I looked through his documents and I found this."

Francis pulled a neatly folded piece of parchment from his coat and Robin looked on. Unfolded, the parchment became a contract penned with the agreements that should Marian marry Francis, Lord Fitzgerald would receive a third of the Duke's estate, and the Duke would, in turn, receive the Lord's title. It seemed a fair exchange and the contract was signed by both involved parties.

Francis gave a bitter laugh. "You know, Robin, I envy you. You may not have the fairytale life, but not many of us do. You have freedom and you have love. You have so much potential for a fulfilling life. I have this," and he waved the parchment. "This is my life, right here. My father will control everything until the day he dies. By then, I will have become a cruel, heartless man, just like him, and I will control my son's life as he does mine. But you can escape, Robin. You can have it all and run. And I believe everyone with the opportunity for happiness should take it."

He then tore the parchment into rough squares. He looked at Robin, understanding and a helpless pleading in his eyes.

"Make Marian happy."

(o) - O - (o)

Time passed in the strangest of ways for Marian. She seemed to be floating through a pool of her memories, strange pictures playing in different speeds with heightened colour and dazzling brightness. She was one, she was three, she was ten, she was twelve. She couldn't keep track anymore. She was Marian and she was not. She was young, she was old, she was falling.

And suddenly, so sudden that she really only blinked to miss it, she wasn't floating anymore. She was most definitely lying on her bed, swathed in bandages and looking at the worried face of her father. But everything hurt. The pain, which had been dulled by the colour, came rushing back with magnificent speed and she almost cried from the aches rumbling within her body.

"Marian? Dear God, Marian! She's awake! She's awake! Bernadette? Fetch Robin! Fetch the doctor! Oh, thank heavens! Marian!"

Oh, surely she was still floating. For she was almost certain her father had said Robin. And with that fact firmly lodged in her mind, she rolled her eyes back into her head and willed the sleep to come once more and take her away from the pain.

(o) - O - (o)

The doctor straightened as far as his form would allow. "My Lord, she is merely sleeping, nothing to be worried about. She is no longer unconscious, but I do suggest giving her as must rest as possible. She will need this time for recuperation. So, no visitors, no excitement. She must remain calm and peaceful."

With that, Lord Fitzgerald breathed relief from his nose and wobbled back out Marian's room. His immense joy at her awakening had morphed into immense panic at the sight of her unconscious form once more. Robin had to fetch Dr. Lewis quickly before he almost became hysterical, certain that his daughter would leave him just as his wife had.

Then, he heard vague shouting echoing from outside in the garden. Angrily, he marched out to tell whoever was shouting that his daughter needed rest and quiet. It was the Duke. He was brandishing some squares of paper at Francis who also had some squares of paper and was tearing them up into smaller pieces and flinging them into the wind.

"Gentlemen, my daughter requires rest. May I ask you to take your disagreements elsewhere?" Lord Fitzgerald rubbed his temples despairingly. The two men looked at him.

"Lord Fitzgerald, is Marian well?" asked Francis. At the Lord's assent, he continued. "I feel prone to tell you that my engagement to Marian has been cancelled." Lord Fitzgerald could not have been more surprised. Not even when the Duke lunged for his son, not even when Francis punched his father, not even when the two left, paper scraps littered on the lawn.

No, not even when Francis clasped Robin's hands and said, "Take care of her. Please."

(o) - O - (o)

AN: Well, it really has been a while. Another short chapter, but an update all the same. I have been procrastinating for God knows how long, but was prompted to update by two things…

I watched Ridley Scott's Robin Hood recently. Not bad, but could have been better. I suppose I was pining for a younger cast (like, maybe Russell Crowe in his Gladiator years).

ifeelfreaky sent me a review telling me she'd read this twice through and could I get a move on? So here's my apology to you, ifeelfreaky (and all other readers) for my long absence.

I like Francis. He is not the villain of the story. And no, Robin and Marian are not getting their happy ending yet (sniff). There is more drama to come and I have a rough outline of where this story is going. But I will finish it, I am adamant, so please bear with me. Thank you.