Marian started as her body began to slump to the side. She'd been falling asleep again. She rubbed her eyes, scolding herself internally. Why was it she seemed to be able to sleep here, but not in her own room?

In the days since she and Robin had agreed to marry, she had not been resting at all well. When in her own room her mind raced from thoughts of herself and Robin joined in marriage, to anxiety about England, to frustration at Much's refusal to wake.

She sent a vaguely accusing glare at the shield where it was propped up on the sideboard. When Robin had had it mended and brought it back to the house, she had expected it to weave some magical spell over its owner, to bring him back to them. After the first two days, she had realised this was fanciful.

She had caught the outlaws regarding the shield with what seemed like religious reverence. Without seeming to come to any verbal arrangement, the gang had begun to take it in turns to sit with Much; sometimes speaking in quiet tones, sometimes merely sitting in silence.

Robin, she noted, no longer spoke when he was with Much, and left as soon as someone else entered the room. After Robin had attended the burial of Carter in the desert, he had returned in a strange mood. The King had sent two messengers to 'see how Lord Much of Bonchurch was getting along.' Robin had sent the messengers back with the message that there was no change, and that he would attend upon the King when there was.

The second messenger had come only this afternoon and Marian had distinctly heard Robin mutter, 'one way or the other,' after closing the door behind the man.

She sighed and dropped her head into her hands.

'Perhaps you would sleep better in your own room, my lady.'

Marian's head snapped up, her brain barely registering the vague worry that she'd begun to hallucinate before she saw that Much was indeed awake.

She rose immediately, 'I'll get-'

'Leave him to sleep,' Much said, 'I'd prefer to deal with his guilt when he is rested.'

Marian smiled and sat back down. 'I'd ask how you feel, but that's probably a stupid question.'

Much smiled back. 'Actually, I feel fine. Well, tired… and hungry. But generally fine.' He paused for a moment, then added, 'Very hungry, actually.'

Marian's smile grew.

Much smiled, vaguely abashed. 'How is everyone?'

'They are all well. Worried about you, of course.'

'Of course. It is lucky we are in Bassam's house or they all would have starved.'

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, then Much spoke, affecting a nonchalance that was obviously only skin deep. 'How was the wedding?'

'What wedding?' Marian said, her expression all too innocent.

'Your wedding, of course. The one you started in the desert before Carter untied us.'

'Robin does not want to marry until you are well enough to attend.'

'Robin…' Much trailed off, looking choked.

'He has been very worried about you.'

'He likes worrying about me,' Much said absently. 'We will have the wedding tomorrow.'

'Much, you were seriously injured, you have only just woken up-'

'Help me up, please.' Much began to struggle against the softness of the pillows.

'It is the middle of the night!' Marian protested.

In the end, Much convinced her to help him up and to the kitchen. They were sitting eating some bread when a voice said, 'What is going on in here?'

Marian turned to see Robin in the doorway, arms folded over his chest. He was smiling, but Marian could see the worry in his eyes.

'I was hungry, Robin.' Much replied around a mouthful of bread. 'And Marian and I had a wedding to plan.'

Robin raised an eyebrow. 'Indeed?' He entered the room, taking a seat beside Marian opposite Much. 'How are you feeling, my friend?'

'Very well, now that I have eaten.'

'Well, I am glad to see that you have your priorities right. After days of worrying us sick you head straight for the kitchen.'

Marian smiled and twined her fingers with Robin's, who, she noted, looked hugely pleased, but mildly embarrassed.

'I was thinking tomorrow,' Much said. Robin's head snapped up, his mind had obviously travelled to other places. 'For the wedding.' Much clarified.

Robin looked at Marian, his eyebrows disappearing under his fringe.

'Can we do that?' Marian asked.

'Do you want to do that?' Robin said.

'Yes.' Marian responded.

Robin looked down at the table, grinning.

'The King should be there,' Much said thoughtfully. When Robin didn't respond both Much and Marian looked at him.

'Master?' Much prompted.

'Sorry, Much what did you say?'

'Master! If you are not going to listen-'

'Do not call me Master, Much.' Robin looked at Marian, 'Have you not told him?'

'Told me what?'

'I thought you should tell him.'

'Tell me what?' Much said impatiently.

'Perhaps the King should tell him.'

'Robin, if you do not tell me what you are talking about this instant I will… I will… I will sing at your wedding!'

Marian looked down, hiding a smirk.

Robin rose, pulling Marian to her feet beside him. 'As long as it is a song befitting your station, My Lord Much of Bonchurch.' He bowed and Marian curtseyed.

'Do not make fun of… Lord?'

Robin laughed. 'The King said that, if you ever chose to awake from your slumber, he would grant you the titles and lands of Bonchurch.' Much smiled widely. 'Of course,' Robin continued, 'Until the sheriff and Gisbourne are dispensed with you are as much a Lord as I am, but the principle is sound.'

'It is indeed,' Much said, rising unsteadily. 'And tomorrow, we shall have a wedding!'

*