So chapter two. I hope people will actually read this thing, becauseI like it.
Well. There isnt much to say. Read on, comrades!
Marian found herself thinking of Reina whenever she wasn't preoccupied with thinking about something else.
Her thoughts were innocent enough, at first. Wonderings about Reina's mysterious childhood, for example, or pondering where she was and what she was doing. But as she got to know the soft spoken girl better, she began to think of things like the roundness of her breasts and the redness of her lips.
"Marian," Reina said one evening as she brushed out Marian's long black hair, "You always seem to be somewhere else."
"Do I?" replied Marian, looking into the glass, "I suppose that might be true, sometimes." She fixed her eyes on the taller girl's face, reflected in the wavy blurriness of the mirror.
Reina looked away, "What were you thinking about?"
Marian wondered whether to speak the truth. Surely telling the other girl that she was thinking about the touch of their lips was more sinful then telling a rather large lie. "I was thinking about the weather." she said, after a pause.
Reina raised one eyebrow and smiled, "A rather dull daydream, for you."
"It wasn't a daydream. I was wondering if there was going to be a storm tonight." She improvised quickly. "…You know how I hate the thunder." Marian finished lamely, resting her fair cheek in her small hand. "Stay with me tonight?" she asked.
"Of course." Reina put the brush down on the small table, and Marian stood up, admiring in the glass the way her long black hair fanned out behind her. She walked over to her bed and sat down next to the post holding up the large red canopy.
Marian got out her needlework and smiled coyly at Reina, who was busying herself in cleaning the room. "You don't have to do that, you know." she said, not looking up from the embroidery she was making of St. George and the dragon. "I can get servants to clean it up in the morning."
"I am a servant."
Marian rolled her eyes, "You're different."
Reina laughed; a soft, attractive thing that made fireworks go off in Marian's stomach, "Really?" she walked over to where the other girl was sitting and stood, her shins touching her knees. The closeness left a sort of electricity in the air for Marian. She raised her eyes to look up at the gingery girl through her dark eyelashes. Reina had an intense look on her face, some unreadable emotion that the other girl couldn't understand. She continued, "If I'm so different from other servants that I don't have to clean, what should I do then?"
Marian pricked herself with her needle in her fluster. "'Zounds!" she exclaimed, sticking her finger into her mouth Her blood tasted metallic, and she sucked on it for a while, then drew it out of her mouth to examine the damage. A red stream mixed in with her saliva, and she wiped her finger on her blue dress. "That hurt."
Reina squatted down to examine the wound. She took Marian's hand in hers and scrutinized the tiny bead of blood oozing from the lady's finger. "You'll survive. It's only a pinprick."
"I know I'll survive." She put her finger back into her mouth, carrying Reina's hand with hers, "I should wear a thimble next time though."
Reina squeezed Marian's hand, then let her own fall back into her lap. Their eyes met, her dark eyes connecting with the cornflower blue of Marian's.
Marian felt all thoughts of the tiny wound on her finger fall away as she looked into the alert, probing eyes of the other girl. She felt something stir in the pit of her stomach again, and knew that a chaste life without sin could not be how hers was destined to be.
She stood up, Reina following her, and their bodies were so close she could smell the bitterness of the serving girl's breath. They still gazed into each other's eyes; it was like she was hypnotized by the intensity of the penetrating, longing look of Reina's face. Their faces were so close—
Reina bent down a little, and pushed her lips against the other girl's mouth. Startled, Marian did not move at all. Freckled hands suddenly journeyed down to her waist, and with that other touch, Marian responded by kissing her back, forcing all of her emotion back into the other girl's mouth. A thousand thoughts zinged through her mind at once. What does this mean? Why did she do it? Does this mean she feels the same way? What shall happen now? What if someone sees? What if someone catches us? What would they do if they did?
Reina broke the kiss, and again she was searching for something in Marian's face.
"I…" Marian began, "I…" she stopped, and tore her eyes from Reina's face. "I can't."
She walked quickly out of the room, only turning to look back at the beautiful serving girl when she reached the door. "I'm sorry."
The two did not want to return to camp when the time came, but as Robin said, they had no choice. Still, they managed to take as much time as they could getting on about it, stopping numerous times for kissing and twice for a hunk of bread and cheese in a particularly pretty part of Sherwood. Despite their dawdling, the pair unhappily reached the camp by nightfall.
Before they passed through the trees that led to the clearing filled with masses of tents, beds, and small campfires, Robin noticed Marian hesitate, her deep blue eyes filled with concern. The outlaw reached out in the half-darkness, touching the other girl's cheek with a rough finger, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
She was silently reminding Marian that there were no obligations yet. If she truly wanted, she could go back to the sheriff, marry Guy of Guisborne, call their love kidnap and never see Robin again.
Marian nodded, smiling at Robin with her eyes, "Of course, my darling."
There, in the bushes, they shared their last secret kiss, filled with anticipation and quite a bit of anxiety, but that was to be expected. They broke apart, and slowly, they stepped into the firelight of the clearing.
There was a silence when they entered, and Robin felt the familiar eyes upon them. She stood awkwardly for a time, squeezing Marian's hand. Then someone clapped, once, and suddenly the entire camp shook with the cheers of the outlaws.
"Robin! You're back!"
"And he brought Marian!"
"Marian? You mean the girl—"
"Robin's finally got her!"
"Three cheers for Robin and Marian!"
The cheers and laughter filled the camp, and the entire clearing was filled with an excited buzz.
Robin laughed merrily, and dragged Marian by the wrist to the high table, where several outlaws sat with their clay mugs of ale and cider.
Sitting at the far end of the table was Friar Tuck, an enormously fat man, balding and dressed in monk's robes. On his left was Will Scarlet, blonde and gorgeous, with plump pink lips and vermillion eyes. He, of course, wore only red clothes. On the right of the friar was Allan A-Dale, who was small and compact, with soulful brown eyes and dark hair. He held a lute, and strummed it from time to time with a melancholy air. At the opposite end of the table was Little John, a giant. He must have been about eight feet tall, and had hands big enough to crush a man's head. His laugh was deep and full, and when he was amused his booming voice reverberated all about the camp. Beside him, on a stool, was a small boy, Much. Robin lead Marian to the two empty seats in the middle, and they both sat down.
Steaming hunks of meat were brought to them from the fires, burned black on the outsides, and still red and bloody on the insides. Alongside the venison, rabbit, and mutton were leeks and onions, steaming and hot and aromatic. The juices were ready to be caught up in pieces of crusty brown bread, cooked that morning on slabs of rock beside the fires.
Marian's eyes lit up. She hadn't eaten such a feast since her betrothal ceremony, and on that day she had not been very preoccupied with food. She pulled a dagger from her girdle and stabbed the mutton with it, maneuvering it into her mouth. It was delicious.
Robin took a great swig of ale and ate with her hands, laughing and enjoying the riddles and rather rude jokes that floated across the table.
"Robin, aren't you going to make a speech?" asked Will Scarlet, finishing his food and putting his feet on the table, "Y'know. About yer wife and all that?"
"I'm not… his… wife yet." said Marian, smiling.
"Ah! So she's having second thoughts!" came the almost immediate cry from Little John.
"Better tie her to the nearest tree!" called someone, Robin didn't know who.
"Or, better yet, the nearest bedpost!" Allan A Dale replied. The table was caught up in a tide of inconsolable mirth for what seemed to me an inappropriate amount of time to Robin. She forced an awkward smile and looked over apologetically to Marian.
Luckily, Marian was laughing harder than some of the other outlaws, and when her laughter subsided, she said over her mug of ale, "No, there are no second thoughts going through my head. I just don't know when or how we could get married."
"Friar Tuck could marry you!" said the small boy, Much, "You could get married tomorrow!"
Robin didn't look up from her alcohol, "I don't know about tomorrow…"
"Why," asked Little John, "Don't you want to get married?"
"Of course I do," replied Robin, chewing on a tough piece of meat, "I just don't know if it would be possible to-"
Friar Tuck laughed merrily, "Why not tomorrow?" he said in his strong Yorkshire accent.
"Because it would be impossible to get ready and—"
"We could do it on Thor's Day." said Marian calmly, saving her lover, "Then we could have our wedding on Midsummer's night, under the stars."
The other outlaws cooed mockingly at the 'romance' of the situation, but Thor's Day did seem like a better day, and Robin approved.
The moon rose high and the fires died low, and once the other outlaws were unable to see each other's faces it was generally decided that they should go get some sleep. The Merry Men all had different preferences when it came to sleep. Many slept in hammocks. A few slept in tents they created to house their families. As the crowd of fifty or so people dispersed into the wood, Robin, Marian and Will Scarlet stood alone next to the embers of one of the cooking fires.
"It shall be busy tomorrow. We might raid someone." Robin informed Will, "In any case, make sure the lookout is alert and awake tomorrow when you take his place." She yawned, her eye on Marian.
Marian squatted before the fire, tugging clumps of grass out of the ground and watching as they curled up and went black on the hot coals.
"Yes sir." said Will, rubbing his eyes. He was slightly drunk. "I'll see you tomorrow, sir." He smiled and wandered off into the woods.
When she was sure he was out of earshot, Robin squatted down beside Marian. "They take a little time to get used to."
"I liked your friends," Marian said, throwing more grass onto the fire, "They were funny."
"They were rude."
"I know. But they're genuine."
Robin smiled, and took hold of Marian's hand. She knew how difficult it was for her to get used to the bluntness of the forest people when she had grown up all her life skirting around important things and discussing trivial matters as if they would affect the universe forever.
She stood up, taking her soon-to-be wife with her. "Come on. I'll show you where we're sleeping."
"Alright."
The two women, one in the robes of a man, the other in the robes of a noble, walked hand and hand through the clearing to a small path leading to the heart of Sherwood. The night was warm, and occasionally they were bathed in the green light of a few fireflies as well as the silver iridescence of the moon.
After about five minutes of Robin leading Marian through the trees, she stopped before an immense oak.
The tree was ancient. The trunk was fat and covered in moss, and the branches twisted about into spires above their heads. It must have been as tall as any cathedral, and its roots alone were as tall as Little John. Robin brought Marian around the huge base of the tree, to a small hovel made in between two roots.
It was dark, too dark for anyone to see, but Robin was too excited to let Marian enter their new home without a little urging. "Go in!" she said excitedly.
Marian cautiously entered, and Robin followed. She swiftly delved into the pouch beside her leggings for a flint, and lit the candle made of animal fat which stood beside the door. The hovel was small, furnished with a small stool in one corner, a shelf for putting things on, and a pile of furs in one corner.
Robin was a little abashed. Now that she was there with her love, she realized how simple and plain it was compared with the towering grandeur of the Norman lady's life and possessions before she stole her away. "Err… I'm sorry it's so-"
"I love it!" exclaimed Marian, diving into the furs. "It's perfectly lovely, Reina!"
"But—"
"But what?"
"Nothing, love." Robin smiled to herself, pulled off her shirt, and gingerly freed her breasts from their wrappings.
"Drop that tunic." Marian's voice demanded as the outlaw reached for her shirt again. "Don't even think about covering yourself."
"…" Robin would have been speechless, if Marian hadn't jumped up and kissed her before she could say anything.
She reeled, as Marian's able tongue suddenly became all she had to focus on as it played in her mouth. She wasn't used to her being so… dominant.
Marian's soft hands journeyed up her chest and found her breasts.
Robin decided she liked it when Marian was dominant.
She broke away from the embrace long enough to lift Marian's dress over her head and drop it on the floor.
Naked, they fell upon the pile of fur, and passed the night quite pleasurably together.