"I'm sorry, Marian," Robin told her, preparing himself for the onslaught of her temper, "you're staying here."

The ensuing silence was thicker than the fog of an autumn morning. Each of the outlaws either looked at Robin, or cast confused inquiring looks at one another, questioning themselves whether they had heard their leader correctly. What was he thinking?

Little John released a low growl, and lumbered off to prowl the forest, away from the hot and foolish blood of youth. This he did not like! John had no wish to disobey his leader, but if Robin did not return to his senses, John would walk the noblewoman back to Nottingham himself!

"I am not!" Marian protested at last, so passionately that Much dropped the cooking spoon onto the leaves.

"Sorry!" he cried.

Quicker than a hare darting through the underbrush, Marian reached down and grabbed the spoon, then began beating Robin with it. Allan a Dale laughed out loud, Much opened his mouth and gaped like a fish, Will retreated to his whittling and Djaq to her medicine brews.

Robin swatted at the spoon, but couldn't stop its hammering blows, so he seized Marian by her wrists and backed her up against a tree.

"You're staying here," he repeated, his own temper flaring, but whether he was more angry at her or himself, he couldn't tell.

"Unhand me, Robin Hood!" Marian said seethingly. "You have changed, as people say! You've become a vicious outlaw!"

"You've changed, too," he added, his voice ringing with frustration and angry passion.

He continued to hold her against the tree, panting and glaring at her, just as she panted and glared daggers back at him. The very air seemed to spark with tension.

"Aw," Allan a Dale quipped, "just kiss her already!"

It might have happened, had Allan not said the words and destroyed the mood.

Robin stepped back, shame faced, releasing Marian. She rubbed her wrists, but she was not hurt, not nearly so much as Robin was from the blows she had inflicted on him with the spoon.

"Marian," Robin told her, hanging his head, "I'm truly sorry. I'll walk you back, now."

She bit her lips and nodded her head, avoiding his eyes.

"I'll be back, lads," Robin told his gang, trying to sound jaunty, but failing miserably.

He held out his hand to Marian, offering to guide her down a steep slope, but she slapped it aside.

"I don't need you to support me," she almost spat at him. "I am perfectly capable of walking, Robin of Locksley. I only need you to show me the way back to civilization."

"If by civilization, you mean Nottingham," he told her, his arrogance and temper returning enforce, "you really have changed, and not for the better, I think."

She shot him a proud and furious glare, and he stopped walking, enjoying watching her annoyance grow.

"You're at my mercy, Marian," he added smugly. "So, if you desire to reach 'civilization' any time soon, I suggest you treat me kindly."

"Kindly?" She peered at him from under raised eyebrows. "I don't suffer fools kindly, Robin."

"Very well, then," he replied airily. "Find your own way home."

She panicked, then regained her composure. With all the dignity she could muster, she announced, "Very well, I will."

She spun around and took a few brave steps the direction Robin had been leading her.

Robin hesitated, knowing he couldn't let her roam unfamiliar forest paths alone.

To the vast relief of them both, Little John pushed his way through the foliage and appeared before them.

The giant gave Robin a fatherly, disapproving scowl, then turned to Marian and said, "We go to Nottingham." To Robin, he ordered, "You...back to camp."

Marian breathed a relieved and grateful sigh and followed Little John. She didn't want Robin to know how her heart was beating with fear at the thought of trying to find her way back from wherever she was in this massive forest.

Robin didn't move, but stood still, watching Marian's back until she was out of sight.

He had failed, miserably. He had failed with her, probably worse than he had ever failed before.

But no. It was a detail, he told himself, nothing more. He'd do better next time. He had to. They belonged together, no matter how stubborn she was to deny it. He would prevail, he swore it to himself.