Robin shifted uncomfortably. The desert was no place for this kind of clothing, he decided. Much had insisted he dress up for the occasion, refusing to allow him to wear the clothes he had with him, calling them: 'Outlaw's trappings. Not fit for Robin, Earl of Bonchurch and Lord of Locksley,' adding, 'And certainly not fit for Lady Marian, either, so put them down and get dressed' before leaving the room, leaning heavily on Will.

Robin had looked at Allan and Little John, seeking support. The latter had merely shrugged, tugging at the white shirt Much had given him to wear.

Allan had straightened his clothing – which he seemed to be enjoying immensely – and admired himself in the mirror. 'Don't know what you're complaining about, mate. This stuff's not half bad. And you used to wear it all the time.'

'Used to,' Robin had muttered, pulling the stiff shirt over his head. 'Seven years ago.'

'Maybe you should wear the soldier's get up, then.' Allan had suggested.

Three sets of eyes had turned to where the uniform of the Captain of the King's Guard hung. They had regarded it in silence for some moments before John said, 'No.'

'Def'nitely not,' Allan said.

Now Robin stood staring straight ahead, feeling exposed without his bow. Funnily enough, he was wearing a sword, but it wasn't the same. With a bow, you could protect, but with a sword you were only little more than an arm's length away from death. The idea that it could be your opponent's death had long ago ceased to comfort Robin.

He shook his head. What was he doing, thinking like this on today of all days?

…of all the men in the world, you are the only one who would propose over a fresh grave, by comparing me to your weapon…

Robin smiled at the memory and looked up from the sand at his feet to where King Richard stood, watching him silently, looking as though he knew what was running through his mind.

'Robin,' Much hissed, nudging him in the ribs, 'stop smirking and be serious!'

That made Robin smile all the more and he heard Much sigh.

As he heard the people behind him go quiet, he gave in to the temptation to look over his shoulder. Marian was advancing on him, Little John holding on to her arm with a slightly dazed look on his face. The same one he'd worn since that morning, when Marian had apparently announced at breakfast that it was Little John she wanted to give her away, and that the King should preside over the ceremony in place of a priest.

Robin had not been at breakfast, having been forced to take it alone in his room after Marian insisted that it was bad luck for him to see her on the morning of the wedding and that they needed no more help in that department.

Djaq walked behind Marian, and Robin just had time to catch the star struck look on Will's face before Much nudged him in the ribs again, forcing him to look back towards the King.

When Marian reached his side, Robin found he could not look at her, as though she were the sun and would blind him if he looked at her too closely, or for too long.

The King spoke for several minutes, but Robin let the words drift over him, until Much once again elbowed him in the ribs, hissing 'Vows,' in a whisper loud enough to be heard all the way in Sherwood.

Robin spoke. 'I, Robin, Lord of Locksley and Earl of Huntingdon, take you, Marian Fitzwalter,' he paused, but only barely, knowing his next words would be remarked upon as unusual, before continuing, 'Lady of Knighton, to be my wedded wife…' He let the words fall from his lips unheeded, aware that he'd already said them in the desert. This was mere formality.

'Marian,' the King prompted.

'I, Marian Fitzwalter of Knighton,' – Robin could hear the laugh in her voice, and behind that the tears too, - 'take you, Robin Hood,' there was a ripple of surprise among the Crusaders assembled behind Robin, and he was sure he saw the beginnings of a smirk on the King's face. He finally allowed himself to look at Marian and could see that beneath her veil she was smiling at him. 'Earl of Huntingdon and Lord of Locksley, to be my wedded husband…'

Robin listened to the rest of her vows intently, still trying to contain his internal laughter at her first sentence, and damp down the fire that had risen in him at the look she'd just given him.

'Then I pronounce you man and wife,' Richard said, 'You may kiss your bride, Robin.'

Robin lifted Marian's veil and smiled at her, bending his head until his lips were just touching hers and murmuring, '"I Marian, take you Robin Hood…" You just married an outlaw, my Lady of Knighton.' Then covering her mouth with his own before she could respond.

*

'Much certainly knows how to throw a wedding party,' Djaq said, sitting down beside Marian and regarding the revellers with amusement.

The party had been thrown in the desert, in the King's encampment. It had been the most sensible place, and though Marian had not been initially enthusiastic, once she saw what had been accomplished here, she had to agree with Djaq.

'Perhaps,' Djaq went on pensively, 'I shall get him to perform the same service for me some day.'

Marian smiled at Djaq, then caught sight of Will, standing with Allan and watching them from the other side of the large tent. 'Some day soon, I think,' she said to Djaq.

Djaq laughed, 'I think so too. How did you like your wedding?'

'Quite well enough,' Marian said, unable to mask the slight introspective turn her thoughts had taken.

'You are thinking of those who are not here,' Djaq said.

Marian nodded. Then smiled brightly, 'I also cannot escape the feeling that we should have married in Sherwood.'

Djaq laughed again. 'Perhaps we should have another wedding for you when we return. And another when you go to Locksley!'

Marian raised her glass to Djaq and drained its contents. Both women looked up as Much arrived, escorted by Little John.

'Have you seen Robin?' Much demanded.

Marian shook her head, abruptly realising that she had not. She rose. 'I will look for him. Married barely four hours and already he escapes me!'

Much laughed and took a seat beside Djaq, while Little John, glad to be relieved of his burden, sought out Allan and Will.

Marian found Robin outside the tent, talking quietly with the King.

'So you will return to England, and keep fighting?' King Richard asked.

'I have no choice,' Robin replied. Rather than sounding as though he was weighed down by it, he sounded content.

'And Marian?'

Robin laughed. 'Marian is the reason I have no choice. Sire, my wife would kill me if I elected to go into hiding!'

Richard laughed at that. 'I daresay she would. I've said before, you are fortunate in your friends, Huntingdon. And to that I'll add: even more fortunate in your wife.' Robin laughed again. Richard, apparently sobered, continued, 'You and your gang of outlaws, Locksley, you are England. You must keep it safe until I can return.'

Marian saw Robin nod, his expression also serious. 'And you?'

'I will work for peace, and I will come home. You are England, and we are… what is it your men say?' Marian saw the King smile – somewhat drunkenly - in the darkness. 'Ah, yes. We are Robin Hood!'

Robin smiled, and looked down at the bow he'd managed to find, despite Much's best efforts. This was the Holy Land, after all, and who knew where the Sheriff and Gisbourne had gone?

'It is said that Robin Hood does not kill,' the King said pensively, 'That Robin of Locksley no longer aims his arrows where they will do fatal damage. Is it so?'

'I do not kill if I can help it,' Robin said. He looked down at the bow again, 'I cannot, your majesty.'

The King rose and clapped a hand on Robin's shoulder. 'There is something in that, I think. Something good.' There was silence as a look passed between the two men, then the King said, 'And now, I must find another drink, and convince our Lord of Bonchurch to regale me with another of his famous songs!'

When the King had disappeared into the tent, Robin, not taking his eyes off the sands in front of him, said, 'Come out of the shadows, Marian.'

Marian moved sheepishly towards Robin, annoyed that he'd known she was there. Robin smirked at her.

'Hiding from your own wedding party, Robin?' Marian said, planting her hands on her hips in an effort to appear affronted, rather than amused.

Robin rose and took her hand. 'Come with me.'

Marian followed Robin, noting that he had changed back into his outlaw clothing, save for the heavy tunic he usually wore. Robin with no Hood. She smiled at his back.

'Do not laugh at me, Marian,' Robin said, apparently watching her with the eyes he kept in the back of his head, 'I am more comfortable this way.'

'As long as you are comfortable, husband, I am sure it does not matter whether your clothing pleases me.'

Robin drew her into a tent she assumed was theirs, and turned to face her, a serious look on his face. 'Does my mode of dress displease you, Lady Marian?' Marian bit her lip, trying to keep from laughing, hoping that the half light of the candles did not give her away. 'I would remind you, my lady, that you married an outlaw. Robin Hood.'

Marian did smile then and reached for the laces holding Robin's shirt closed.

Robin laughed, exclaiming, 'Marian!' when she began to tug the shirt over his head.

'Do my actions make you unhappy, Robin of Sherwood?' Marian asked, finally getting the shirt off him and throwing it to the ground. 'Perhaps you would prefer to return to the party and join Much in his singing?'

Robin regarded her seriously for a moment, then pulled her to him and kissed her fiercely, nimble fingers working on the bodice of her gown.

*