OK, here this is... I know it took a while, sorry. Thank you to shilohfan, MJVdl, 13piecesofmyheart, Rawr I'm A Toaster, and elizabeth marrain. We've established my cruelty last chapter, I think. BUT THIS TIME we will delve farther into that. Along with the next one as well. Which should be up next week sometime... Not sure if it'll be on Monday or not. No later than Tuesday, though.

When Robin awoke he knew that something was wrong. He should be lying on a dead man, not on a stone floor. He sat up, and he noticed a weight on both wrists. Chains? He had been taken prisoner. Why? If they could kill thousands, why couldn't they kill him? He wished they had, he really did. He wished that they had cut him to pieces and left it all for their dogs. Why couldn't he have just died? What did his captors care about him? What did anyone care about him?

Suddenly, Robin's head began to swirl at dizzying speeds. Sleep, he should sleep. Maybe he would die while he slept. Instead, while he was asleep, he remembered. It was one little scene of his past life. He couldn't see anything, just hear.

"What's it going to be?" said a girl's voice. He didn't recognize it; couldn't put a name or face to it.

"I don't know. It doesn't matter to me anyway," his voice replied. It was younger, so much younger.

"I'll try and figure it out for you."

"Fine, go ahead and try. I don't think you'll be able to though. It's just a random stick."

"A dare then?" She laughed. "Watch me win." He heard himself laugh under his breath and it shocked him. "Let's see... That could be a wing there, but the neck would be too thin for a bird... unless it was a heron or something like that. Hey! That's what it is. See, look there— Ow, watch it!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. Can I help somehow? I could—"

She laughed again, even after he had hurt her. It didn't make sense. "Oh come on, stop. It's fine. The cut isn't that deep, I can just suck on it and it'll stop bleeding."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing already, I'm fine. You'd think you cut off my finger or something..."

He awoke with a jolt, confused. Who had that girl been? No girl would have said half of what she had said. Sucking on her finger to make it stop bleeding? Nobody did that in public, and girls wouldn't even do it in private. Wait, a name was coming to him. Maria? Marie? No, that wasn't it. Mary? Mary Anne? Marian!

"Marian." Her name sounded empty. He couldn't remember a thing about her, except that she had been different somehow. For the next hour he tried to remember everything about her, every last little detail. His mind seemed to refuse, as if didn't want her in its territory. Robin, however, did; more than anything he wanted her there.

Marian's face came to mind and everything she had ever done, every word she had said, every dirty look she had thrown at him. She had been an untamed girl, and he had liked her for it.

What he would give to be home, away from all the blood and killing, to be with his family and friends. He wouldn't even mind dealing with Will. Even if it was just for three minutes, he wanted to be home. The word had never sounded so wonderful before. Something had to give, and he had to get back. If it meant being a coward and leaving on his own then he would. He knew he couldn't take it anymore.

Marian. Robin knew he was missing something about her. Something he hadn't remembered yet. Her eyes were plastered into his mind, staring at him, piercing his soul. The realization came: he loved her. He had loved her since before he had left. Then why had he forgotten? After contemplation, he decided it was because love didn't belong in war, and his mind had sent Marian away on purpose.

She was his fiancée! The sudden memory made him so happy that he forgot everything else for a second. Marian would marry him when he returned, it had been agreed.

The side of his head where the Turk had hit him began to pulse, and he felt himself losing consciousness again.

Robin kissed the back of Marian's hand. She was no longer the girl he remembered, but a woman. A gorgeous woman, who he didn't deserve. Her mysterious green eyes were alight in happiness, but there was a sense of sadness there. Why?

Marian, with a sense of desperation, rushed into a full kiss, leaving nothing behind. It was heaven until she was abruptly wrenched away by a man who seemed familiar somehow.

Utter blackness surrounded him when a scream filled the air. Marian! Robin was standing outside a castle courtyard, smoke billowing into the air, accompanied by the smell of burning flesh. They were burning Marian. Her screams of pain filled his ears. He had to take away her pain, and it didn't matter how.

The only entrance was guarded by twenty men, a battle he'd surely lose. Another scream filled his ears, reminding him that they were burning everything he cherished. Robin tried to climb the wall, but it was too high, and there were no footholds. He kept trying until his fingertips bled. There was no way in! Her screams died away, and still Robin attempted to get over the wall, refusing to believe that Marian was no more.

"You're too late, Robin Hood," the man who had taken Marian away sneered. "Your precious wife is dead; burned to ash. Didn't you hear her begging to be rescued? Ah, but no help came. You failed her."

Robin shook himself from the nightmare, horrified. No! Marian wasn't dead, she was alive and well in England, waiting for him to come home. He hadn't failed her in any way. No harm would come to her. Ever. He would make sure of that.

What had the man called him…'Robin Hood'? That wasn't his name, and meant nothing to him. Did that mean that the man in the dream wasn't him? But then…Marian wasn't his. Marian was in the arms of 'Robin Hood'.

It was only a dream, it wasn't real, but Robin was still determined to get home and protect Marian. Even more so since this 'Robin Hood' was incapable of keeping her safe, and had, in fact, allowed her to die.

Even if Marian was no longer his, he couldn't allow her to burn and die.

It was just a nightmare though; nothing would come of it.

Voices drifted down the passage, Arabic voices. Robin had learned to speak Arabic; it had been required of him. He had become quite fluent with it. "He's down here," a voice said. In a few moments two men were standing outside his cell. One looked like a foot soldier, but the other seemed to have higher status, a leader of men.

The richer man looked at Robin and asked, "Are you the English king's companion?"

Robin looked at the man, wondering why he wanted to know about his relationship with Richard. "And if I am?"

"Just answer the question, Englishman, I can make your life very miserable and will if you don't cooperate." As if it wasn't already thanks to that nightmare.

"Then, yes, I am a friend of Richard's." A smile spread on the man's face. It wasn't a pleasant smile either; it seemed more of a half smile, half smirk. As if he knew something, or maybe life had just given him his greatest wish.

--*--

Marian awoke to a new day, freezing. The cold December chill had invaded her room, seeping through the castle walls. In all of her eighteen years she had never thought it could get this cold. She sank deeper into her mattress hoping for a little warmth, but she didn't find any. Marian considered getting out of bed, but shunned the idea because of the cold floor. On the other hand, she would warm up if she started moving. "Oh, come on, it's a floor!" Marian told herself, angry that she should be scared of a cold floor. Only five years ago she thought she could take on the world. What had happened to her?

Tentatively, she put one bare foot on the floor, sucked in her breath, and let a Saxon curse fly as the cold attacked. She stood, muttering to herself about how she hated winter. She looked into her water basin and instantly decided not to wash her face, because the water had iced over. Within five minutes she was dressed and had brushed and weaved her hair into a single braid down her back. Organa had refused to let her cut it even an inch in four, nearly five, years. As a result, her hair had grown down to her waist. Marian could hardly stand it, the first thing she was going to do once she was released from there was have her hair cut. She glanced in the mirror on the wall, and couldn't help noticing how impeccably thin she was. It was a good thin, not unhealthy, but still uncomfortable.

It was that afternoon, while Marian was weaving a blue and gold rug, when Claire, a twelve-year-old servant, told her that she had a visitor. Who she found was a tall man dressed colorful livery, his goatee twitching. "Are you the Lady Marian Fitzwater?" he asked in deep voice.

"Yes sir."

"Then I extend to you an invitation, from milord Robert of Locksley."

Marian took a step back and stared at the man, wondering what he could possibly mean. She knew he meant Robin, but that confused her, since Robin was on crusade. How could he invite her to anything? "Pardon me, if this sounds rude, but isn't Robert in Jerusalem?" she asked, trying desperately hard to keep her voice from trembling.

"Well, milady, he was in Jerusalem, but he returned home two days ago." Marian felt her toes tingle inside her shoes. "And, as I said, he extends a personal invitation to you, for a gathering being held in his honor at Huntington Hall in three days time. He says that he would be grateful if you came. What can I tell him in reply?"

"Tell him that I will attend and that I welcome him home." It was a courteous answer, the bare minimum, but she didn't know what else to say.

"He'll be glad to hear it. Good day, Lady Marian."

--*--

"The green will bring out your eyes beautifully, and leave your hair down tonight, don't bother putting it up," Organa said, handing Marian a green gown with silver trim. Marian reached out and took the gown from the woman. She barely glanced at its color, she was nervous about seeing Robin again. He must have changed during all these years away. What if he had only invited her for social standing? What if he didn't care about her for who she was anymore? What if she made a complete fool of herself and he hated her for it? 'What ifs' filled her mind to its limits, making her oblivious to what was happening in the present.

She changed into the dress without noticing. A silver sash was tied around her waist. "And you must wear this," Organa continued, bringing Marian out of her reverie. Organa handed her the pendant that Robin had given her, its silver freshly polished. The wolf looked just as wild as ever, the emerald eye just as bright. Marian put it on with pleasure.

--*--

"Uncle, what are you doing? Guests will be arriving any minute and you're hanging mistletoe?" Will hadn't changed much in Robin's opinion. He was still just as annoying as ever. Robin re-arranged the little plant's leaves one last time, and stepped down from the chair he had been standing on.

"Yes, Will, I'm hanging mistletoe, and you can use it tonight if you do find reason to. Just, don't pester me about it." Robin looked at the plant, and he could feel a smile probing his lips. He would wait until the perfect moment and then he would… He interrupted his own thought, remembering the nightmare and that if it was true then Marian was no longer his.

He refused to believe that, he hadn't come back only to have her stolen away. No, he didn't hold stock in dreams.

To the hopeless romantics reading this: How am I doing? I'm one of your kind myself, so by my set of rules this is great. I'm unfamiliar with your rulebook though, so lay 'em out!!! You can use that button down there. To all the non-hopeless romantics reading this: How's everything else doing? GUYS: Tell me if I'm getting Robin right!!! It's hard to know if I'm going too far sometimes!

Hey, doesn't that 'review' button look snazzy???? I think it does.