"Well, how are you?" Marian asked once she and Robin had settled deeper in Sherwood.

"I don't know."

She sighed. "Well then."

They looked at each other in slience.

"Will you tell me what's the matter?" she offered gently.

He handed her a weathered piece of paper. After some scrutiny, she passed it back to him, but did not respond.

As the taut quiet between them became overwhelming, she said curtly, "So what will you do?"

Robin shifted his stance, looked down at the ground and then finally back up at her.

"I must protect the King, even if that means leaving the shire."

"And you are sure this is an authentic request?"

"What do you mean?"

"Surely you know that not everything form the King is really from the King," she replied in that tone he both loved and hated.

"Yes," he countered, "but Carter signed it. I have to trust him."

Marian shut her eyes for a moment to calm herself. She was growing frustrated. She knew where this was headed. It was all too familiar of a conversation they had had a long time ago.

"Marian, you know if I could stay and do everything from right here, I would. But this is bigger than Nottingham. I might have become Robin Hood, but I am still Robin of Locksley and I am duty-bound to secure the King's safety. I cannot help it if the game has grown in scale."

"No you cannot help it," she snapped. "But you can choose how you structure your strategy. Do you really think following some piece of paper's provisions off to another town, abandoning the people here will serve the greatest good—when you could be awaiting the King for months!"

"Marian—"

"What do the others say?" she quickly added.

"I haven't told them."

"Robin." She glared at him.

"Well, you see how you did not greet the news with much—alacrity. They'll understand even less. Besides, I haven't come to a final decision yet."

"Robin." She paused. The strain between them was pronounced and almost painful, but it was unavoidable. They hadn't discussed the matter of them in weeks. Bringing it up seemed strange to Marian, who still never quite knew how to be honest with him about how she felt. And yet, at this moment, all she wanted to scream was: "What about me?"

Instead she said in a voice trying to be void of emotion, "I should be going."

"Wait, Marian." Robin moved closer. "Stay." He embraced her. "Tell me what you did today, tell me what you did yesterday, tell me anything, tell me about Gisbourne even, I don't care, just don't go.

She held him tighter.

The Sheriff swirled the feather of his quill around his chin while he looked over the document he was about to sign.

"Now, Gisbourne," he started distractedly, scratched off his name, pushed aside the parchment and looked up with full attention.

"What is the status of that forgery I assigned you? Did you get your homework done, hm?"

"Hood should be reading it right now," Gisbourne replied. Even after all this time, he still bristled at the Sheriff's tone of perpetual condescension.

"Good. This is good. And have we dispatched the men to, uh, 'meet' him on the way?"

"They leave tonight."

"Excellent. You know, I worry that you've been weakened of late, what with our castle guest, Maid Marian. I want you to know, one step in the wrong direction and she'll be gone for good. So, don't get too attached. She's hung on here longer than I thought, but I have a feeling she'll be stepping out of line very soon."

The Sheriff chuckled to himself as he always did when he was hiding something. Gisbourne grimaced and took his leave.