In this one there is an unfamilar word that you may not know. Andig is the Anglo-Saxon word for 'jealous' but that's all I can say, or else I'd give something away... R&R please!!

Where was she? If Marian didn't show soon, she'd completely miss it. Robin had barely made it here himself, thanks to that bit of business, although being held up by Marian's father hadn't helped. Robin could barely suffer through the man. Still, he had to deal— There she was! He rushed over to her, handed her the bow he had borrowed for her, and said "You are Martin of Southwell and arrows will by the shooting line. Where were you?"

"Wandering aimlessly around the fair, spying on people. Try it some time, you could find out things about your friends that you were never told. I spent half the time watching the silversmith sell his trinkets. Just out of curiosity why were you there?"

"I'll tell you later, now follow me." This was not good, she wasn't supposed to know anything about that. Now she was going to be furious, even more than she would have been originally. Why him? Why did it always have to be him? Why? He was already under enough stress what with the whole thing with his brother, and Will was making it worse.

"Robin," Marian hissed, "tell me." By this time they were standing in a small crowd of archers waiting for the tournament to start. A third of the men were drunk, as always. They were the ones who went out first.

"Not now. Later." Why was she being so persistent with this?

"Yes, now. I need something to distract me."

He had a feeling that was a lie; there was something in her voice that old him it was more than a need for distractions. She genuinely wanted to know. But why?

"Think about your follow-through. You don't need distractions. If you're distracted you'll miss, and we can't have that. Please don't ask again."

--*--

This was strange, too strange. Her thoughts flitted to the argument she had overheard after her near-rape. Something was going on that she didn't know about, and it was more distracting than whatever answer Robin could have given her.

"Fine," she grumbled. "Don't tell me. Why would I even need to know?" She was getting sarcastic now, ranting on about it. "Why would you need to tell me something as trivial as that?" Robin shushed her.

"If I do say so, it sounds to me like you're andig."

Jealous! He thought she was jealous of whichever girl had caught his affections! She wasn't jealous of anyone, especially not the girl Robin had found, whoever she might be.

"You're acting like a girl, and do I have to remind you that your voice is a dead giveaway? People are looking this way; you're attracting attention."

She glared at him, angry that she couldn't give him a full piece of her mind, all these secrets were getting on her nerves.

"I'll shut up."

"Good, it's almost time to start anyway."

Marian refused to look at him. She woudn't, not if he was going to lie to her. Nobody liked to be lied to, and she was no exception. Didn't he see how this was affecting her? She would be too worked up about this to make an attempt at a good shot.

But all the same... A question nagged at her, other than why Robin had been at the silversmith's. Why did she want to know so much? Why was it this important to her? Her brain was putting together pieces, but she wouldn't look at the finished product. Why not? She just didn't want to know, or had a feeling that if she did know she'd lose something. Whatever it was, Marian refused to realize what she already knew.

The banging of a gavel brought her back. A voice called out different archers' names, told them to take their places. The routine wasn't completely unfamiliar to Marian. She had watched archery tournaments before. She hadn't, of course, ever dreamed she'd get to try her own hand at it. It thrilled her just to think of it, even if she wouldn't win.

"There you are," an unfamiliar voice called.

"Oh, there's Ivan," Robin said. "We're friends, in a way. He and I talk during the tournaments and estimate who will win. Usually we guess correctly. Don't talk too much, it'll give you away."

Marian grumbled to herself about how annoying the whole no-voice-thing was getting.

"Take your stance!" the man with the gavel called.

Ivan jogged up to them, eyeing Marian. "Who's this?" he asked, motioning to her.

"Martin," More lies. So many lies. "I dragged him into it, even if it took a while to convince him."

"Draw and take aim!"

"Well, Martin, I'm Ivan. Even if I hope to beat you, I doubt I will, since Robin brought you into this. I always go out before him."

Marian didn't respond.

"Don't give me that much credit, Ivan," Robin told him. "I'm not as good at this as you seem to think."

"My father thinks so. He claims you have potential." The gavel pounded and the sound of a dozen arrows flying through the air followed. "Who's it going to be this year?"

"Give them all a chance to show me what they can do first. Out of those last six who were upI'd say that Norman with the bushy goatee. If I'm remembering from last year, he was pretty good."

"Yeah, he was."

The second batch of archers were being called forward. Marian wasn't really paying attention; she was too nervous for that. She almost missed that Robin was being called, didn't even notice until he left. "Known Robin long?" Ivan asked her. A direct question, one that she had to answer. She nodded, instead. "How long?"

"Six years. Now let me watch," she hissed it so her voice wouldn't be so obvious. Ivan fell silent, perhaps noticing that she wasn't in the mood. She didn't notice the questioning look in his eyes. The man's gavel pounded and arrows cut the air as they zipped from archers' bows. Robin's arrow was second closest to the middle, an older man beating him by an inch. Robin wore a cocky grin on his face, nonetheless.

Marian knew from past experience that he enjoyed being the best, or second best as it was today. Second left room to get even better, which was a challenge, and since Robin loved challenges to overcome, second best was just as good. Personally, she would rather be better than everyone else all the time.

Ivan was busy congratulating Robin, while at the same time muttering about how unfair it was that Robin always beat him. "Martin of Southwell!" the gavel-bearing man called.

Her insides fely compacted together in a thick pudding, swirling around within her. No matter, she was Marian Fitzwater, the girl whispered about because of her queerness. She moved into position, smiling because of how wonderful it was to be rebellious. She took her arrow from an upright quiver beside her, giving it a glance over for flaws, as Robin had shown her.

"Take your stance!" Taking stance was easy, it was when you believed you could make a decent shot.

"Draw and take aim!" This was when it got hard. Suddenly a fear that you would do poorly jumped out at you, telling you that you would miss. Marian dismissed it though, now wasn't the time for fear, it was time for concentration. Her arm remained still, and the arrow with it. Her mind blocked the noises of the ongoing fair. Nothing existed but her, the bow, arrow, target, and upcoming crack of a gavel.

The gavel sounded and she released, her follow-through as steady as ever. Marian's arrow propelled itself toward the target, singing it's song as it went. The song ended as it found it's place in the circle around the center, one of her best shots.

In her excitement she failed to move out of the oncoming archer's way, standing in her spot, staring at her accomplishment. "Move, boy!" a heavy Norman voice ordered, he put his hand on her chest to shove her away. Instinctively, she hit at his arm, to get him off of her. The Norman jumped away from her, a look of surprise on his face. Marian spun around, horrified that she had been found out. The man who had made the discovery turned out to be the worst person who could have: Geoffry deLacy, Sheriff of Nottingham.

He had the power to kill her for doing what she had done, and she had a feeling he wouldn't hesitate.

He wasted no time either. "It's a flaming girl! Guards! Arrest this despicable woman!"

--*--

Robin had hoped that this wouldn't happen, but he and Marian had a plan. They had worked it out carefully, covering every aspect of it, even though they hadn't wanted to use it.

Ivan nudged him, "You brought a...a girl? But Robin, that's...that's...you could..." Ivan paused, overwhelmed by the idea of it. "Why?"

"Because she deserves it."

"You have a grudge or something? Wanted her to get executed?"

Robin could see that Ivan didn't get it. "No! She likes to do these things, she wanted to—"

"Who cares? She's your friend, whoever she really is, do something! She can't get out of this on her own."

Robin looked at him, and in a skeptical tone said, "Really? Just watch." That was when he took a good look at the man who had caught her. Upon recognizing him, he knew that the plan wouldn't work.

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