Yoke -

Robin doesn't ask.

It should worry her – it does, they've such histories, Leopold, Daniel, Marian rising – but Robin looks at her with the same love in his eyes, always, and they breathe second chances, she would be his, so –

"Marry me."

He stares at her, blind-sided, and then kisses her, crowding her against a door-post and opening her mouth fierce with his, reassuring hunger in the wilful press of lips but no explicit answer, still, a familiar thumb stroking her jaw.

She pulls back, lingers, bracketed, "Robin?"

He frowns like she's the strangest creature in all the lands. "Of course."