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Robin was at a loss for words, never had he ever seen Marian look as intimidated as she had just been. The man next to her was still holding most of her hair, and was keeping her face up. Her face was red from the man's hand, each of his fingers outlined on her skin. He had to do something, had to get her away from there.

He found his voice, "I can't let that man continue to hurt that girl, I demand that he step away from her." He was surprised at how menacing his voice sounded. "If he doesn't leave her alone, I won't write the ransom note. You don't have anybody else who can." The leader, whom he had learned had the name of Fife, glanced at him.

"You call that a threat? We can just find a scribe, scare him a little, and he'll do it for us." Fife had a taunting smile on his face.

"Then give me a sword, and I'll fight it out with you. Or a test of archery, I'll do that too."

"You think you can beat an outlaw with a bow and arrow?" Fife's voice was mocking, making it plain that he didn't believe him. "I think you should know that I'm the best of my men."

"I think you should know that I've been shooting arrows since I was eight." Fife laughed at him, as if he thought it were a joke, and one that he found downright hilarious.

Finally, Fife said, "I think I'd like to see this for myself. Untie the girl and bring her to the range, she should watch him fail for herself. Keep a rope around her neck so she can't run though, couldn't have that."

The man next to Marian moved to do as he had been ordered. "Not him," Robin said. "I'm doing this so she won't get hurt, he won't bother being careful. Let me do it." Fife smirked at him. "Keep a circle of men around us while I do, if you want to, but I can't let anyone hurt her." He wanted to look at Marian, to see what she thought of his plan, but knew that he'd lose it if he so much as glanced at her.

More men entered the camp, dragging yet another captive, one who looked a bit too familiar. "Caught him spying on us, Fife. He says that he—"

"Let him untie her," Robin interrupted. "If you don't want me to. He's a nephew of mine, and he'll be too scared to try anything." Fife was starting to look annoyed with Robin now, and Will didn't look too happy either. "You could have a man hold a knife to his throat so he won't do anything you don't want him to."

"Robin!" Will protested.

"Quiet, Will," Robin told him, but to Fife, "I'm trying to be reasonable with you. I'm offering a deal, that you can't disagree with. Just take it." Why was Will even here? His brother would kill him once he found out his son had followed Robin into Sherwood. Will was overprotected by his father, and rarely left his sight, even if Will was only one year younger than Marian.

Fife was aggravated with the demands Robin was making, and maybe a little pleased that he was putting up such a fight. "Neither of you two are going near her, my men will do just fine. And if you even think of complaining," he snarled at Robin. "I won't put up with your antics and just throw you somewhere till I get the bloody ransom!"

Robin quickly shut his mouth; he had been ready to snap that Fife's men weren't trustworthy. "Mark! Take care of the girl!" Fife called. "And don't be too rough! Wouldn't want to upset his little lordship."

--*--

Marian shrank back into the tree as the man called Mark came toward her, despite what Fife had ordered, she didn't trust him. Her other watchman grunted, dropped her hair, and backed away as Mark drew his knife to cut the ropes. He had a large scar across his forehead, and Marian wondered where he had gotten it. "Why Fife even listens to the earl's son," Mark muttered as his blade sliced through the rope. Marian was glad that Fife was listening to Robin, she hoped that he had a plan that would work. So far whatever he was trying to do was succeeding, and they even had another ally; one Marian had never met, but just the same.

Mark cut away the last of her bonds except for the rope holding her hands behind her, then it was all Marian could do not to get up and run. But she knew that she wouldn't get anywhere, there were too many men there. A rope was put around her throat and a complicated knot that Marian didn't recognize was tied in it. Mark yanked her to her feet with the other end of the rope.

"The gag too, Mark. She's not gonna be swearing at us anymore, I don't think." Filthy rag that it was, Marian was glad to see the thing go, she spit the taste of it out of her mouth, to make sure that no trace of it would be left. Her mouth was sore from how tight it had been, and she didn't even dare open her mouth for the pain.

Robin had watched it all, she knew because she could feel his eyes surveying every move Mark had made. However reassuring that was, it was also a bit unnerving. In the stories her mother had once told her before she had died a man in love with a woman always came to defend her honor and protect her, but Robin wasn't in love with her, he was just her friend, and that was all she wanted him to be. She let the thought go since there were more important things at hand.

"Come on," Mark said, pulling her forward. The rope, which wasn't tight but tight enough, was wearing on her neck already, it's roughness rubbing her skin bitingly. Mark didn't seem to care though, he kept dragging her forward until they reached Fife and Robin. Mark pushed her to the ground and tossed his end of the rope to Fife. Marian sat with her legs doubled beneath her, glaring at the ground.

"Would you mind being at least a bit more gentle?" Robin asked, his voice angry. Marian still couldn't look directly at him, even though she didn't understand why. She was thankful that he was trying to help, but yet she couldn't understand why she was acting like this.

--*--

A few minutes later they were headed for the archery range. Robin had been given an unfamiliar bow, and was walking as close to Marian as he could. Fife was leading her onward and she was glaring at his back. Will was somewhere behind him, being kept by Mark, at the camp. But Will would be fine, he could take care of himself, Marian was more important. "Marian," he said, not sure if she was listening or even if she could hear him, his voice was so low. He didn't want anyone to hear what he had to say. "I'm going to get you out of here, you know that?" She wouldn't look at him.

"I know." She winced as soon as the words were spoken. The gag had left long, purple bruises on her jawbone, and there was no doubt that they made it hard to talk. Why her? Why did they have to find her? It would be horrible for anyone to go through this, but why her?

"I'm sorry."

Finally, she looked at him, her expression one of shock. "You're the last one who should be apologizing. You don't think this is your fault do you?"

"No, but, I don't know, it felt like I should say it anyway."

"Don't bother then, if I­—" She was cut off when Fife jerked her rope and nearly made her fall flat on her face, but Robin caught her before she did, and he noticed that her neck was bright red where the rope was rubbing against it, and now there was a light sprinkling of blood in some places, it was going to be completely raw soon. This shouldn't be happening to her, and that was just it.

"Keep your mouth closed or that gag will be back where it belongs," Fife called back. Robin gave her an apologetic look, because that time it was his fault. She nodded ever so slightly, with barely any movement; he could tell that she was apprehensive of being harmed again. It made him angry that she should even have that fear, and especially that she was in a situation where that fear was normal.

That brief conversation Marian had stolen was comforting; even it had been stopped short. She had looked at him at last, and wished she had sooner, the solid proof that he was there had given her something solid to stand on. She had needed that, needed to know that there was some sort of hope.

The range took only half a minute to get to from there. It was a clearing with handmade targets set up on one end, at least one hundred paces away. How anyone could shoot that far, Marian didn't know. People did it all the time but she couldn't imagine ever being able to do something like that herself. She looked at Robin, but he didn't seem surprised or even worried about the distance, in fact he seemed confident. She kicked his foot to get his attention, not wanting to talk again. When she had achieved eye contact she gave him a look of question and shrugged toward the field. He gave a nod of self-assurance. As soon as she saw it, she looked away, hoping Fife hadn't noticed.

She wondered what would happen to her during the match. In the end the rope was tied to fencepost, and she was told to sit there, and not talk. Keeping her mouth shut wasn't a problem, she was already determined not to speak again. She stared straight ahead and didn't look at anyone or anything except what was happening on the field. Robin and Fife were each going to get one shot, whoever came the close to the center would have his way. She knew Robin was a fair shot, but up against a seasoned outlaw? Marian couldn't be sure of the outcome.

--*--

Robin would go second, which was fine with him, he liked to know exactly how much distance he needed between his arrow and Fife's to win. He had to win, if he didn't win, he'd never forgive himself. He concentrated on the target, what he needed to do, and what the cost would be if he didn't succeed. He had already gotten her away from the man who had been hitting her, but that wasn't enough, she needed to be out of this place altogether.

A silence fell as Fife drew back his arrow, aimed and released. It flew towards the target and struck home in the outer-rim of the center. Robin looked at it for a while, considering whether or not he could do better. "Well, are you sorry for doing ths yet?" Fife asked.

"No, I won't be either." Fife gave him a smirk, as Robin stepped to the line. He looked over the arrow to see if they had given him a dud. As far as he could see, it was flawless, if maybe a bit worn, but that was no different from Fife's arrow. Of all the arrows he had shot in his life, this overused arrow he held would be the most important one he had ever fired. Even though the fletching was plain, and the tip a bit dulled, he was putting his faith in his skill and into the arrow's flight.

He nocked it to his bowstring, took his stance, and pulled back the string. Robin sighted down the shaft of the arrow, looking toward the target. He had become obsessed with winning this one time, he could lose anything else, but not this. With one slight adjustment to his aim, he let it go. In the space of an instant it had finished whistling through the air, and struck an inch closer than Fife's. One inch; that had decided Marian's fate.

--*--

Marian couldn't help but smile, she wanted to laugh, but still didn't dare. Robin had a small smile on hic face too, "Free the girl," he said. Fife laughed at him, and his men joined in. Marian's smile disappeared.

When Fife finished he said, "You think I'll actually let her go? I played you like a game of dice. She doesn't go anywhere." Marian was going to punch Fife someday, just come right out and give him a nosebleed, and maybe break it too. He'd be sorry then.

"Even in a game of dice there is a gamble you can't back out of. Give me sword, and we'll fight it out that way. First to take blood wins, if I win she goes free. If you back out I assure you will wish you hadn't." She wasn't sure what to think then, or how to react.

"Give the idiot a sword if that's what he wants. I'm not going to let him think he's better than me. He can go ahead and lose." Robin seemed to know something that Fife didn't. Marian hoped it was to his advantage, it looked to her like it would be, but one can never tell for sure from a distance. Marian grew more sure of the assumption that Robin knew he had the upper hand when he was given a sword. He held it confidently, looked Fife in the eye and kept the contact. Fife drew his sword and started swinging.

Each time Robin blocked it, however complex the strike was Robin kept him at bay. The sound of sword meeting sword filled her ears, it sounded more deadly than anything she'd ever heard, but at the same time it she wondered if someday she might learn to fight like that. Watching from her perspective, she noticed the footwork most. Robin was much more agile than Fife, and kept moving. Fife, was slower, his steps seemed lumbering compared to the quick, fast movements that Robin performed. She looked at their faces and saw sheens of sweat on both their foreheads. Fife was infuriated that he could do nothing against Robin, who continued to calmly parry every attempt Fife made. Marian lost track of how long it had been.

Marian was barely able to follow what Robin did next. Somehow he struck out and smacked Fife's sword to the side and then cut into his upper arm. Robin kicked him to his knees and held the tip of his blade to Fife's neck, "Let the girl go." His voice was almost sinister in tone, his stance foreboding and prepared for whatever might happen next. His light sandy hair was drenched in sweat and hung in his face, the slight curl it usually had was still there, but barely since his hair was so weighed down.

Marian found that she was holding her breath to better hear Fife's answer. "Fine, on one condition." Robin didn't relax his posture; he kept his sword tip on Fife's throat and waited for the rest of his reply. "The ransom price your father is paying will be twice as high as before."

"Only if Will goes with her." Robin was staying? Marian didn't like the idea of him staying here. "And you must give me proof that you'll keep your word." After much arguing Fife was disarmed of every weapon on his person, tied to a tree and gagged. Marian laughed, however much it hurt, at how similar it was to how he had kept her. Robin smiled with her.

Robin fumbled with the knot in the rope around Marian's throat, trying to not let the rope touch the raw skin on her neck. He was proud of himself; somehow he had done it, Marian had both her innocence and her life. The rope fell away and they both stood. Her wrists had already been freed.

"Thank you, Robin. I think I owe a lot to you."

"What else was I supposed to do?" Then, more quietly, "I'm not staying here. I know I'm going against my word here, but I don't think it's such a terrible thing, since Fife did the same to me." Marian was relieved.

"Good. I wouldn't have wanted to leave you here anyway. We should go get Will, so we can get out of here."

They found Will up against a boulder on the south side of the camp with Mark casually pressing a dagger between his ribs. The outlaw still hadn't noticed them. Marian looked at Robin with a sly grin, asked for Fife's dagger (which he had kept along with the sword), and snuck up behind him ready to finally hit some one. Fixing the dagger firmly into his back she said, "Don't move, or I'll press harder, and I don't think you want this through your heart, however black it is." Mark let out an over dramatic sigh of indifference.

"Really, girl, you'd think that you'd have given up by now."

"I'm not just any girl, I'm the one holding a blade to your back, so drop your weapon." He obeyed. She turned him around, and glared him through, her dagger now held to his neck. "You don't hurt me without getting hurt back, apparently a lesson you failed to learn. And it just so happens that I'm more than willing to show you." Marian punched him square in the nose, just as she had planned for Fife. "See what I mean?" She knocked his head against the rock and he fell, unconscious, to the ground. Stepping over him, she picked up the dagger he had dropped, deciding to take it as a personal trophy.

A shrill whistle sounded from the direction of the archery range. Marian turned around, "Not good," Robin told her. "I want you to run to the Great Oak and stay there, if I'm not there by dusk, go home."

"But—" Robin shushed her, and told her to just go. She hesitated for a few moments, then turned and ran. She couldn't have stayed, she knew that, it was the only reason she left. Otherwise, she would have stayed. Of course Will got to stay, but that made sense, if Marian had stayed things could only get worse.

She stopped at a spring to wash her neck and wrists. The water stung like nothing she'd ever known, making only the drink she took there refreshing.

Afterwards, it was only a five minute walk to the oak. Marian was glad they hadn't captured her here, if that had happened, the whole clearing would overrun with outlaws. It was the perfect place, with everything an outlaw camp needed. A spring nearby, a small cliff that made a wonderful lookout point, a cave that could provide shelter, and of course enough space. If anyone found this place they would be sure to take for themselves.

Not being a sit-still type of person, she climbed halfway up the oak. She sat in silence listening and watching.

She fell asleep but jerked awake at the sound of voices. They were arguing. She recognized one quite clearly since she had even listened to it change five and a half years ago. He was all right! By the sound of things Will was okay too. Her conscience instantly felt better.

"I swear I'll kill you someday. Do you realize what you've done?" Robin asked. "Now my brother will be furious, Charles will never forget this. Mark my words; my brother, your father will forever hold it against me that I'm the reason you ever came here. He's so protective of you, I'm surprised he even lets you do anything on your own." Marian laughed to herself; that was even worse than her father.

"Well at least he's not making me—"

"Shut it. I don't want to hear one thing about that right now." Marian was confused. She knew nothing of what had just been said. She felt as if, for some reason, that she should. Robin was her deepest friend; shouldn't she know if something was bothering him?

"You've told her right?" Will asked.

"No, not yet." Marian had barely heard that sentence. As soon as she did she was extremely worried. Something important was going on that she didn't know about, and by the sound of things it had something to do with her.

"If you've asked her fath—"

"Shut it."

"Does he know?"

"Yes, and if you dare say one more thing, I'll kill you sooner than I intended." Her father knew? Why would he know? Why did he need to know? She was thinking long and hard about this when they arrived.

"So... What did I miss?" Her words had double meaning, of course, but Robin didn't know that. As she climbed deftly downwards Will looked notably surprised. Her feet hit the ground, landing her directly before them.

"Not much, we pretty much just got re-captured for about five minutes, kicked a few of them out of our way, led them a side-splitting chase, and then came here." Robin said, feeling exhausted at the memory.

"Yeah, I agree with the side-splitting, I don't think I've ever run so fast for so long," Will said.

"You didn't have to drag somebody along behind you either," Robin groused.

"It's not like I know every turn and corner of this place like you do, I've never been here before."

"I think I'll leave you two to your bickering, and head back home."

"Would it help if an earl's son escorted you home with a few explanations?" Marian brightened at the idea. Knowing her father would be more than pleased with that.

She was surprised at the look of complete mortification on her father's face when he saw Robin. It would have been more typical of him to be excited, not embarrassed. Maybe this had something to do with the unfinished argument Robin had had with Will. She didn't think about it too hard; she had a feeling that she'd find out soon enough.

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