While everyone was sleeping, Marian untied her horse from a birch tree and tightened the leather straps of the saddle on his sleek back. He neighed a bit, and Marian stroked his muzzle, hoping to soothe him. Quietly, she led the horse out of the grassy clearing, and into the dark depths of Sherwood Forest. A trickle of a nearby stream was heard in the distance, and she followed the sound, coming to a shallow river that flowed over smooth rocks.

Her horse bent his neck to drink, and she did the same, cupping her hands and bringing the cool water to her lips. Thirst fulfilled, she stood and took his reins again. A figure leaned leisurely against a tree in front of her, his face shadowed by the overhanging fronds. She took a cautious step back, apprehensive of this spying stranger.

"Leaving so soon?" the man asked, stepping out from the tree, revealing his scarred face. Marian turned away from Robert saying, "I must."

"'Twill be risky..."

"'Tis a chance I'll have to take," she said. Marian looked up at him then, "Please take care of the nuns, especially Sister Hannah, she's old and frail..."

"I will," he promised.

"...And Tuck too, I'm afraid that his judgment isn't what it used to be..."

"Aye."

"...And…" she continued, her mind rushing with orders for him.

"Marian, I-" he paused, running his hand through his hair, letting out a sigh, "...here."

She looked at the object in his outthrust hand, and then up at him in awe with her weary mahogany eyes, "The ring."

Marian could feel the salty tears welling up in her eyes as she watched him, take her hand and slipped the emerald jewel on her finger wordlessly, her mouth opening and closing like a fish, unable to speak. Robert's warm, weathered hands lingered there for a while, and he said, "Thou hast proved thyself worthy."

"I must go," she quickly breathed, not reclaiming her hand.

"Why not stay, Marian, thou art safe in these woods...away from danger...Tha cannot return to the Abbey…" he shook his head, genuinely concerned.

"Understand, Robert, please..." she said, slowly letting go of his fingers. He released her, and watched her lead the horse through the river, wading in the shallow waters. When she reached the other side, she turned back to face him.

Moonlight danced with the ripples in the river, sending dappled shadows on the figures in the night. Marian stood on one side of the bank, Robert on the other. Nothing seemed to move, and everything was still and quiet, it was as if the whole universe had paused it's life to look upon the two people, waiting for them to burst apart into a million shattered pieces. They locked eyes, and Marian could hear Sarah's words echoing inside her head, "...Remember to look harder my child..."

She hooked a strand of brown hair behind her ear, taking in Robert's rigid body and the pained expression on his scarred face for the first time. She could see a man, troubled, but determined not become his father. A heart, strong and rhythmic, torn between good and evil, betrayed by everything he had put his trust in. A young man who did not vow any devotion to anyone...except perhaps her.

"...See things that others do not..." she whispered to herself. And she had. She couldn't deny it.

The passion in his eyes spoke to her like nothing ever had before. He had eyes like a hungry wolf, fierce and terrifying, wild and free, and he was unable to be tamed. A leaping, bounding, magnificent beast of a spirit, imposing and frightening as the wild wolf himself. Much like herself. She saw herself in him.

The impatient stomping of her horse brought her out of the daze, and Marian quickly turned her face away from Robert, not letting him see the silent tears that streamed down from her eyes.

Alan received a sack of gold coins and weighed them expertly in his palm. A grin widened on his freckled face as he raised his eyes to meet the Sheriff's gaze. The Sheriff leaned back in his chair, playing with the long forgotten silver-tipped arrow.

"Thou hast served me well, Alan, my boy," he said. Allan beamed with pride, "Aye sir, I did my best to please thee."

"Though the bandits got away," the Sheriff said, preening his beard, "I feel as if I have accomplished something."

"What's that?" Allan asked, distractedly, marveling at the coins. The Sheriff rose, strolled to his mantle, tracing the rivets in the wood with the arrow, "I have a plan..."

"Hmmm," he murmured.

"The girl..."

"Marian?" Alan asked, looking at him.

"Aye, Marian," he walked across the rooms to his bookshelf, tapping odd books, before he pulled out one. Paging through it, he hummed softly, when at last, he halted at a page. Stepping up behind the boy, he placed the book in front of him, "Read."

Allan picked up the book, upside down and said, "Yes, I see what thou art thinking."

"Stupid boy," the Sheriff picked up the book and cuffed him over the head with it, "Tha can't read..." Allan shrugged, putting the pouch of coins into his leggings pocket. The Sheriff stroked his beard vainly with the arrow, saying, "We shall have to wait for the right time to execute this plan..."