"Where's Little John when I need him?" Robin panted, struggling under Marian's weight, as he carried her up the long winding flight of stairs leading to her former chambers, high atop one of the castle towers.

"I'm perfectly capable of climbing stairs," Marian told him curtly.

"I'm sure you are. But can I trust you not to run away?"

"Put me down, and you'll see."

Robin stopped and studied her eyes, reading in them defiance, yet a certain willingness at last to accompany him. Setting her carefully back on her feet, he made a big show of stretching the kinks out of his back, then chuckled teasingly at her, trying to ease her anger.

"If I'm heavy, you've only yourself to blame," Marian scolded. "I suppose you could carry that lying wisp of a girl Annora up the stairs without even breaking your stride."

"I could," Robin admitted. "But where would be the fun in that?"

He was infuriating, but somehow, his familiar joke and irrepressible grin brought half a smile back to Marian's lips. Sliding her hand under his arm, she let him lead her up the remaining stairs, resigned but happy, and very tired. Wishing to entwine her fingers through his, she slid her hand down his arm, but pulled it away, gasping, when it touched his wrist.

He was sticky with blood and pus, the flesh around his wrists torn and ragged from having been clapped in irons. She looked at him sadly, pity filling her eyes.

"It's alright," he said, making light of his injuries. "But I wouldn't mind you kissing me better."

He hesitated, then tilted his face to reach for her lips, expecting a mild rebuff, but was rewarded with a tender kiss, filled with longing. When it ended, they found their hearts and their feet lighter as they hurried up the remaining steps.

Reaching Marian's former castle chambers. Robin pushed open the door, enterring first to be certain it was safe. "All clear," he told her, thinking romantically of all the times he'd snuck in here to be alone with her.

Marian's memories were not as pleasant. She'd been a prisoner here, with Gisbourne always sniffing around, growing more and more obsessed with her. She still recalled how hard the stone floor had felt when he'd thrown her down upon it, enraged to learn she was the Nightwatchman, and how she'd set a fire, hoping to escape.

Moving briskly across the room, Marian located a jar of ointment to apply to Robin's wrists. It stung, and Robin was glad when she finished, though there was something intimate and stirring to be so close, feeling her fingertips stroke him with so much tenderness and concern. Eyeing the bed, he told her, "We could both use some sleep, but first, we need to talk, Marian."

"Just for once," she surprised him by saying, "couldn't we make up first, and argue later?"

Her meaning couldn't be any clearer. Her arms embraced his neck, her fingers roamed lightly through his hair, and her irrestible mouth pressed eagerly against his own hungry one. Without breaking the kiss, Robin backed her toward the bed until they fell upon it, clinging to one another.

Marian didn't realize she was crying until Robin began kissing away her tears.

"What's wrong, my love?" he asked, his very voice a tender caress.

"I don't want to cry," she insisted, angry at her own weakness. "I'm no different than that awful Annora!"

Lying half beside, half on top of her, Robin gently brushed away her remaining tears. His adoring gaze studied her with so much intensity, it took courage just to meet his eyes. "You're wrong, Marian," he told her. "But I thought you didn't want to argue."

Gently, moving with tender patience, Robin softly kissed her eyelids, wet cheeks, nose and chin, before feasting on her mouth. Marian clung fiercely to him, ardently returning his kiss.

She was frightened for him, terrified he would come to harm. Even if he was no longer physically locked in the dungeon, he was no more free than he'd been when escorted there earlier tonight.

Except that he didn't seem to know it, at least not at this point in time. He cared nothing for his danger, and everything for her. And his roving mouth and hands were magically pushing aside her worries as well, making her forget them, as her body caught fire.