For her seventeenth birthday, Robin gave Marian a hairpin dagger and a bridle to replace the one she'd broken a few days before.
"Practical," she remarked, admiring the hairpin. He'd gotten it in London months earlier. As soon as he'd seen it he thought of her: it was the perfect combination of beautiful and deadly. The jeweled handle sparkled and the point of the dagger was sharp enough to draw blood without applying any pressure. Robin had learned this the hard way.
"I thought you might like something useful," he said.
She laughed. "You must think my life is far more exciting than it really is."
"You never know." Really, he just wanted an excuse to practice with her. She was nearly as good an archer as he was, but every time they went out in the woods to practice with staves or knives or swords, they eventually ended up shooting together. Robin standing behind her, their bodies touching, one hand at her waist and the other guiding her hand on the bow. She didn't need his help and they both knew it, but she never objected.
"Indeed." She unwrapped the bridle next. This Robin had purchased from the tanner in Nottingham, an old man who did the finest work for miles around. And the quickest - Robin had considered it a stroke of luck when Marian's old bridle tore; he'd spent weeks trying to think of what else to get her.
Her hands ran over the soft leather. "This is lovely," she said, and smiled up at him. "Thank you."
"I had it fitted to your palfrey," Robin said. "It shouldn't need any adjustments."
That impressed her. He'd thought it would. "How did you manage that?"
"While you were away at your cousin's," he said. "I just…borrowed her for a few hours."
"Sneaky." She stood up on her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Really, thank you."
"You're welcome." Feeling bold, he kissed her on the cheek, too - dangerously close to her lips, but she didn't smack him so he figured he'd gotten away with it. "Happy birthday."
He moved toward the window, ready to climb out, but the look on Marian's face stopped him. "What?" he asked.
"It's the middle of the day. Why don't you go out the front door, like a normal person?"
"Ah." Robin made a valiant effort to conceal the heat in his cheeks, but from the way she was grinning, he knew he'd failed. "Well. I'll see you later, then."
Marian laughed and watched him go, and when he looked up to her window a few minutes later, she was still watching. He blew her a kiss, and she didn't even roll her eyes.
.
That night he came to her window. She was sitting on her bed in her nightdress, humming to herself, brushing her hair. Robin longed to run his fingers through it, and suddenly it was all he could think of. Her hair, dark against her pale skin. A cloud behind her head as she lay—No. Focus, he told himself.
"Psst," Robin hissed, and Marian turned sharply.
Her shoulders relaxed when she saw him. "Oh, it's you."
"Who were you expecting?"
She raised an eyebrow at him. "It's the middle of the night, Robin. I wasn't expecting anyone."
She had a point. Robin swung his legs around so he was sitting on her windowsill. "May I come in?"
Marian nodded and he hopped up onto his feet. "Well?" she asked.
"I forgot one of your gifts," said Robin.
"Mmm. Something else practical?" she teased.
Robin considered. Certainly it would serve a purpose. But practical? "Maybe not."
"All right," she said, her interest piqued.
And he knelt before her.
Her eyes went wide. "Robin, what—"
"Marian, will you marry me?" He said it on one too-thin breath and the words came out a jumble, Marianwillyoumarryme. Her brow furrowed, then eased once she figured out what he'd said.
"Try it again," she said, a smile teasing at the corners of her mouth. "Breathe this time."
He held out a ring - his mother's ring - and after a moment, she held out her left hand to him. He slid the band over her slender finger, catching just a little at the knuckle.
He breathed.
"I love you," he said, and she bit her lip. "I've loved you my whole life, and I'll love you the whole rest of it. I'll always be there for you. You are my best friend." He bent his head to kiss the ring on her finger, and when he pulled away she cupped his face in her hands. Robin looked up at her. "Marry me, Marian."
Her smile lit up the room. "Yes," she said, twining her fingers in the hair at the back of his neck. "Yes."
Laughing, Robin pulled her into his arms and spun her around, her toes resting lightly on the tops of his feet. He buried his face in her hair. Yes. Her arms were just as tight around him and just as unwilling to pull away - Marian wants to marry me, we're going to be married - but after a moment, they did.
Marian looked flushed and breathless and beautiful and happy. "What did my father say?" she asked, still standing in the circle of his arms. If Robin had his way, she'd never leave.
"He gave us his blessing," Robin said quickly - too quickly - and she gave him a skeptical look. And he amended, "He said that he acquiesced."
She snorted. "Is that really the word he used?"
Robin winced. "Yes. He said that we wouldn't leave him alone until he acquiesced, so he might as well do it now."
He left out the part where Edward had reminded Robin of how "headstrong" Marian was, and wondered aloud what kind of wife she'd be. But Robin had never wanted anyone easy. He'd never wanted anyone else.
Just Marian, Marian, Marian. Robin wanted to spend the rest of his life fighting with her. And, he thought, that heat rising again, not just fighting.
"He likes you," Marian assured him, bringing him back to earth. "Sometimes I think he just wants me to live at home with him forever."
"When we're married you can see him every day if you want," Robin said. "You won't be going very far."
"That's probably why he acquiesced." She giggled again - not a sound that came from Marian very often. She was enjoying this far too much.
"Probably." They were still standing so close together, and when he reached one hand up to trace her jawline, she didn't pull away. He whispered, "Now can I kiss you?"
Marian nodded, her expression solemn. "Please do."
And he did.