When it was Robin's watch in the camp that night, he kept one eye out for trouble, and the other on Marian as she slept. When he saw her curl up tightly in a ball for warmth, he removed the cloak from his back and spread it over her. The feeling in his heart from doing this small gesture would give him all the warmth he required this night.

"Robin."

"Yes, Marian?"

He was immediately by her side, crouching down on his hams to listen. A sweet smile graced her lips, and her eyes fluttered slowly open.

For several moments, she gazed into his eyes with nothing but pure joy and affection. His heart seemed to leap over three times, and a lump lodged in his throat. I love you, he thought. Stay with me here. Stay with me forever, wherever I go.

She closed her eyes once more, lengthened her body from its curled up position, and breathed out a sigh of contentment.

Robin sighed as well, but his was a sigh of deepest, unfulfilled longing.

...

Marian awoke the following morning feeling stiff, unwashed, and uncomfortable at the presence of the men watching her. At least Robin had the decency to avoid staring at her, as did the Saracen boy, but the others, particularly Little John and Allan, studied her as if they'd never seen a woman wake up before. And she knew that couldn't be true! She was particularly certain Allan's eyes had seen more than his share of women rise from their beds, or from his.

Much tried pushing a bowl of pottage at her, even before she fully sat up.

"No thank you, Much," she told him curtly. She looked at Robin, to gage his reaction to her refusal, but he didn't flinch. He seemed completely absorbed in fletching arrows. She might just as well be in the Holy Land herself, for all the attention he paid her this morning!

"You really should eat, Marian," Much insisted.

"Thank you, but I'm not hungry."

She needed to pee, but she wasn't sure where she was supposed to do that. And she wasn't about to ask any of the men!

Perhaps Will might help her, if she asked him delicately. But where was Will? She didn't see him anywhere.

"Where's Will?" she asked, sitting up on the dew drenched fur. She wondered for a moment how her gown had stayed dry, when even her hair was damp.

She wished she'd brought her cloak, for she was beginning to feel chilly. The outlaws all wore theirs. She noticed Robin's was damp with dew, as if he had slept under it, and patched in three places. For some reason, the sight of his shabbiness saddened her.

At her question, Robin at last took his attention away from his fletching and gave her a guarded smile. "I sent him to Nottingham this morning, in a farmer's cart delivering milk to the castle. He'll be able to find out whether it's safe for you to return, Marian, since you're so eager to get back to Gisbourne's side."

"That remark was unnecessary," she snapped at him. "You know very well I want to return to my father!"

"Do I?"

"If you don't, you are a fool."

"I thought you'd already decided I was. You've told me so, often enough."

She shivered, and was touched when Much offered her his cloak. "No thank you, Much," she said stubbornly, but then relented when she saw his disappointed eyes. She'd already refused his offer of pottage this morning, after all.

Not being able to wait any longer, she rose and stormed away from Robin and his camp, realizing she would just need to hide behind some tree and relieve herself, like a forest animal. By the time she returned, Will was among the others, telling them that the Lusignans were leaving Nottingham, and that Guy of Gisbourne was in the dungeon, awaiting execution.

She alone remained silent, as the others around her whooped and hollered and cheered for joy.