A/N: I got this odd little idea during study, and I thought it would amuse
someone (at the least it amuses me)! I know Marian isn't very likeable;
she's not supposed to be. Haha. This really makes fun of the Robin Hood
gang, so enjoy!
(Written in Marian's point-of-view)
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I propped my feet up on a table, staring lazily at my latest "love interest". His name was Robert of Locksley, and he was the most beautiful boy I have ever laid eyes on. His hair was this striking shade of gold, and his eyes were the most adorable, bright blue. He had one heck of a body, and was the best archer in the shire. He was kind and just, sweet and opinionated, witty and intelligent - the whole deal.
I would let him down easily.
Now don't get me wrong, this man was the idol god of every goose girl in the shire, but he was so naïve. I couldn't stomach his idealistic views, which he constantly poured out to me, crying about the injustice of serfdom and heavy taxation. Get over it! Everyone knows that some people just have to suffer. As long as it isn't me, I could really care less.
But Robert had some sort of obsession with justice. He always wants things to be fair for the entire bloody population. Get a grip, dove. The world isn't going to be perfect, not with our "charming" sheriff and whining peasants. And I certainly wasn't going to be hopping for joy with you at my heels constantly.
Not that I would ever say that to poor Robert, who hung on my every word. Poor boy would probably burst into tears and fling himself out a tower window. He was such a romantic; it was just the sort of thing he would do - a sign of his eternal devotion or some sentimental load like that.
I wasn't planning to keep in contact with him much longer. Despite the overwhelming size of the Locksley lands, it wasn't worth the headaches I'd get from his self-righteous prattling. What a character.
I was instead intent on quietly slipping out of our friendship and going to pursue that adorable lord's son, Master William of Norwell. Now there was a piece of work - muscles, looks and realism all in one debonair package. Not at all like this Robert whelp - no awkward boy desperate to express his adoration. All man.
But fate and my temper intervened.
Robert grinned adoringly at me. "Heavens, Mari, you're gorgeous today - a regular goddess of the sonnet." I smiled tolerantly at him, letting the stupidity of his romanticism pass without comment. He was so handsome when he looked up at me with that worship draped across his face.
"My gratitude, Robert," I replied sweetly, leaning forward so that we were very close, "but I must ask how your charity idea has been going." Robert had been paying off the steward in an attempt to get Locksley's serfs more grain.
"Oh, Mari! It's splendid! The serfs are much happier with more grain, and they all know my name now! I don't let them call me Milord anymore, but they have to when my father's around. But I have to help the peasants in the shire! I mean, the welfare of those on Locksley is important, but those in the shire - oh, Mari - they really." He went on like that for another few moments, lamenting the misery of Nottinghamshire's peasants.
I tried so hard to hold my temper, but what a sap! All this compassion and sadness for a bunch of country laborers. I rolled my eyes and barked, "Well, if you feel so bad for them, why don't you do something about it?"
Robert froze mid-preach to stare at me. "Marian, you're brilliant!" he cried, standing upright and flinging his arms wide. He was grinning madly, boyish excitement spread across his youthful features. "Oh, my Marian!" he yelped again, dropping to one knee and kissing my hand enthusiastically. "Such a brilliant, brilliant lady! My brilliant Mari!" He kissed my hand one last time and dashed out of the room, laughing happily at the ceiling.
I blinked a few times in confusion, eyes intent on the hand he had adorned with his saliva. What had I done?
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(Written in Marian's point-of-view)
**** ****** ******
I propped my feet up on a table, staring lazily at my latest "love interest". His name was Robert of Locksley, and he was the most beautiful boy I have ever laid eyes on. His hair was this striking shade of gold, and his eyes were the most adorable, bright blue. He had one heck of a body, and was the best archer in the shire. He was kind and just, sweet and opinionated, witty and intelligent - the whole deal.
I would let him down easily.
Now don't get me wrong, this man was the idol god of every goose girl in the shire, but he was so naïve. I couldn't stomach his idealistic views, which he constantly poured out to me, crying about the injustice of serfdom and heavy taxation. Get over it! Everyone knows that some people just have to suffer. As long as it isn't me, I could really care less.
But Robert had some sort of obsession with justice. He always wants things to be fair for the entire bloody population. Get a grip, dove. The world isn't going to be perfect, not with our "charming" sheriff and whining peasants. And I certainly wasn't going to be hopping for joy with you at my heels constantly.
Not that I would ever say that to poor Robert, who hung on my every word. Poor boy would probably burst into tears and fling himself out a tower window. He was such a romantic; it was just the sort of thing he would do - a sign of his eternal devotion or some sentimental load like that.
I wasn't planning to keep in contact with him much longer. Despite the overwhelming size of the Locksley lands, it wasn't worth the headaches I'd get from his self-righteous prattling. What a character.
I was instead intent on quietly slipping out of our friendship and going to pursue that adorable lord's son, Master William of Norwell. Now there was a piece of work - muscles, looks and realism all in one debonair package. Not at all like this Robert whelp - no awkward boy desperate to express his adoration. All man.
But fate and my temper intervened.
Robert grinned adoringly at me. "Heavens, Mari, you're gorgeous today - a regular goddess of the sonnet." I smiled tolerantly at him, letting the stupidity of his romanticism pass without comment. He was so handsome when he looked up at me with that worship draped across his face.
"My gratitude, Robert," I replied sweetly, leaning forward so that we were very close, "but I must ask how your charity idea has been going." Robert had been paying off the steward in an attempt to get Locksley's serfs more grain.
"Oh, Mari! It's splendid! The serfs are much happier with more grain, and they all know my name now! I don't let them call me Milord anymore, but they have to when my father's around. But I have to help the peasants in the shire! I mean, the welfare of those on Locksley is important, but those in the shire - oh, Mari - they really." He went on like that for another few moments, lamenting the misery of Nottinghamshire's peasants.
I tried so hard to hold my temper, but what a sap! All this compassion and sadness for a bunch of country laborers. I rolled my eyes and barked, "Well, if you feel so bad for them, why don't you do something about it?"
Robert froze mid-preach to stare at me. "Marian, you're brilliant!" he cried, standing upright and flinging his arms wide. He was grinning madly, boyish excitement spread across his youthful features. "Oh, my Marian!" he yelped again, dropping to one knee and kissing my hand enthusiastically. "Such a brilliant, brilliant lady! My brilliant Mari!" He kissed my hand one last time and dashed out of the room, laughing happily at the ceiling.
I blinked a few times in confusion, eyes intent on the hand he had adorned with his saliva. What had I done?
*** *** *** ****