As promised I'm going to thank those who reviewed Chapter 6, (in order of when I received them) shilohfan, Outlaw's Daughter, and supersport. You guys are the best. Three reviews!! It's the equivalent of Hugh Dancy walking into the room. See how much your reviews effect me? Hugh Dancy is better than Orlando Bloom any day.

Again, I ask you to read, enjoy, and review!

"Marian!" her father exclaimed. "Where have you been? And why are you dressed like that?" Her father seemed astounded that she had stooped the level of good homespun wool. Really though, he had to be more approving of this than mens' clothes. If he was he didn't let it show. "Your fiancé will be here in less than two hours. How do you expect to be ready on time? Go and get ready this instant. There's a new dress, and some scented oil for your hair. I expect both to be used. Tonight we need to impress him, I want nothing less than that."

Marian retreated to her room to do as he had said. Across her bed lay a deep blue gown that Marian knew she'd detest wearing. She quickly undressed and put on one of her shifts, stowing the homespun dress under the bed so the servant who would assisther wouldn't take it away. Her men's clothes had been left in Nottingham, unfortunatly. The homespun would have to do for Sherwood visits until she could scrounge up another set of clothes.

The maidservant came through the door bringing with her a large bowl of steaming water.

The process of getting ready took longer than she could stand. After having her hair washed, combed, and scented she was already tired of sitting still. Two hours later she had blue swishing around her ankles as she descended the stairs to get to her father's solar. He had said that he wanted to see her just make sure everything was to his taste.

In his solar he walked in a slow circle around her, evaluating. "I'm pleased Marian. I hope that your betrothed will be as well. I think you'll like him, he's at least near your age and not some old codger."

"If he were an old codger, I don't think he'd do well in war."

"Yes, indeed," his voice had gone quiet, as if he were deep in thought. The sound of an approaching horse interrupted their stiff conversation. "Come, Marian." He should have added, 'Your doom awaits.'

Dutifully, Marian followed her father. Her fiancé's knock on the door echoed through the manor. Marian stood slightly behind her father as he opened the door. "Thank you for inviting me Sir Collin, I've been looking forward to meeting your daughter." It wasn't possible, but it sounded like Robin's voice talking with her father.

Robin stepped into her manor, looking every inch the earl's son. This wasn't happening! Why hadn't he told her? He had all those chances, all the times she had complained he could have said something. He had practically lied to her. Everything that had happened with the silversmith made sense then; the way he had reacted when she had asked, that her father had been there, everything!

"Then by all means, Lord Robert this is my daughter, Lady Marian Fitzwater."

Marian tried in vain to conceal her scowl when Robin's lips brushed the knuckles of her hand. He gave her an apologetic look, and she, in response, gave him a look of pure fire.

She heard Robin's horse put up a fight with their stable boy, Timothy. "You should better train your horse, Lord Robert," she said, as it was as close to any insult as she could get. The beast calmed and Marian noticed Timothy rifling through the saddlebag. She opened her mouth to say something but Robin spoke before she got the chance.

"It's fine. I asked him to do something for me." That made next to no sense to her, but as long as Robin knew.

Dinner was stiff, with her father at the head of the table, Marian at his left, and Robin directly across from her. Marian spent most of the time kicking Robin under the table just to see him grimace in pain, but at the same time both managed to conceal the haphazard one-sided fight beneath the table.

"Robert, I do believe that we're traveling together to the Holy Lands." That's when Marian realized. She looked up at Robin, to find that he refused to meet her gaze.

"Yes, I think we are."

Robin was leaving on crusade? Robin? No, that couldn't be right, could it? He wouldn't leave to go to war, that couldn't be what her father meant. But her father had said that her fiancé was going on crusade...

Robin was leaving. She choked on the pork that suddenly refused to go down her throat, coughing uncontrollably. As she got her breath back, her father asked, "Marian perhaps you should take a breath of fresh air. Robert, would you care to accompany her?"

"Of course," Robin replied, standing up. He walked around to Marian's side of the table and offered his arm, the way that any gentleman would. Marian took it and let him escort her only for the sake of the fact that her father watched.

As soon as they were out of sight and hopefully earshot she yanked away from him. "Why didn't you tell me?" she screamed. "I should have known before this!"

"About which? Our betrothal or... that I'm leaving?"

"Both! There were opportunities for each."

"I wasn't sure how you'd take it, you might have, I don't know, refused to speak to me again. I didn't want—"

"How could you think that? I would have been disappointed that you were leaving, but I wouldn't have been angry about it." Really, how dense was he? "Why do you have to go?"

"My brother, Albert not Charles, is going. My father thought that I should go too; he didn't give me a choice."

"Fight for it! Tell them you don't want to go! Give them reasons you have to stay, I don't care!"

In a pleading voice, "But Marian—"

"Don't give me that!"

Marian's father appeared, with a disgruntled look toward Marian. "Is there a problem?" he asked.

"No, sir," Robin replied in a steady tone. How could he be so calm?

"Good. Let's go back inside, and finish the evening in my solar. Marian, I expect you to be civil from this point forward," he said to her crisply.

"Yes, Father." She threw another glare at Robin, and hissed, "You'll explain this to me in Sherwood tomorrow, so you had beter think of a good excuse." She kept the promise she had made to her father, to the best of her ability, which came easier in her depressed mood. She somehow sat quite still listening to Robin and her father speak of the war. Her eyes misted over, but she kept the tears from escaping. She had to save them for later.

Her mind centered firmly on Robin's leaving. Leaving, and maybe never coming back; dying. If not dying, then taking hundreds of lives to stay alive himself. She remembered eavesdropping on her parents once: Her father had been speaking of a great battle; she couldn't remember the name of it, but he had been confessing to her mother of the carnage he had taken part in. Robin had to be on one side or the other of that carnage... Marian was going to be sick.

Quickly she turned her thoughts to the other end of Robin's leaving: An empty Sherwood. She wasn't sure who would miss him more, herself or the forest. It was a strange thought, but Sherwood surely wouldn't be the same without him wandering around creating mischief.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her father saying, "Marian, did you hear me?"

She hadn't realized she'd been that deep in thought. She shook her head, since she didn't trust her voice not to crack.

He apologized to Robin, who had to hide a chuckle. How could he laugh right now? "I said that Lord Robert has to leave. Please say your goodbyes." If she hadn't known him beforehand, it would have been meaningless to say 'her goodbyes.' What joke all this was.

She noticed a barely concealed look of anticipation cross her father's face. Why would he... Oh, the silversmith's trinket. This could be embarrassing...

Marian stood from her chair and took a few steps toward Robin. "I assure you I'm not this out of sorts all the time. Perhaps next time will go better." Her father cast a reprimanding glance her way for reminding them all.

"I'm sure," he said with slight sarcasm, as he took a small delicate, carved, wooden box the size of a full- grown man's fist from the mantle behind him. It must have been the stable boy's errand. "As a sign of our betrothal, I got you— Well, see for yourself."

As Robin handed it to her, Marian gave him a knowing look. Robin pretended not to notice. She looked at the design decorating the lid. A crescent moon peeking from behind clouds made of silver was inlaid into the deep cherry wood. It had to have been expensive.

Opening it proved a greater shock. She gasped, and looked up at Robin not knowing what she was supposed to say. A silver pendant lay within the box, on it an intricate wolf howled in the night sky, the moon above looking on as it had on the lid of the box. One could see the fur of the wolf blowing back in the wind, something only a master silversmith could accomplish. As for the wolf's eye, there was a tiny emerald sparkling up at her.

Even if she didn't like jewelry, she knew for a fact that this piece was costly. So what if it was rude to think of how much a gift cost? You couldn't mistake it for anything less than what it was.

Robin picked up the necklace and stepped behind her. "It's symbolic," he whispered, untucking her hair from beneath the small chain.

"I... I'm not sure how to thank you... It's... it's..." Too much. Robin shouldn't have to give her jewelry, period.

"Waiting for me to return from the Holy Land will be enough, since it may take a while to get back."

Once he had left, Marian felt the tears she had held back earlier return. Holding them at bay for a little while longer, she went to her room. Her father couldn't see her cry, she wouldn't have been able to give a good reason without telling him about Robin. As a result, it was only the walls that saw her curl into a tight ball and sob.

So... Do you like it? Let me know! Please??? I'll thank everyone agian...