"Robin! You promised me you wouldn't shout!"

"That was before I heard your so called plan!"

Regaining control of his emotions, Robin took a deep breath, then lifted Ellen from the foot of the bed, kissed her on top of her head, and handed her to Marian. "Please take her to Mattie, so we can discuss this further."

"Why? Because I'm a woman?"

"Because I'm not wearing trousers!"

His truthful, surprising answer silenced Marian's objections. "Come along, Ellie," she said calmly. "Let's find Nurse Mattie."

As soon as they had gone, Robin threw back his head and groaned. Unable to sit in bed any longer, he rose and began to hobblingly pace about the room, stopping only when his leg hurt him.

When Marian returned, she found him standing against the far wall, legs apart, arms folded across his chest, chin lifted defiantly. Mentally preparing herself for battle, Marian still couldn't banish the thought that no other man in the world could look so handsome, desirable, and noble, dressed in only a loose linen shirt and undershorts.

His shouting didn't bother her as much as she'd led him to believe. It wasn't cruel or threatening, only passionate. All the same, she didn't want him to shout now, but to listen.

"You're supposed to stay in bed," she told him.

"So are you."

"Well, then..." First closing the door behind her, she returned to their bed, climbing across it to sit where she slept, for he, as a knight sworn to protect his lady, slept closest to the door.

Robin followed her lead, but had to climb past her to get to his side of the bed. Doing so, he bumped his injured leg against one of Ellen's blocks, and winced in pain.

Marian winced as well, feeling his pain almost as sharply as he felt it himself. "Are you alright?" she asked, her lovely voice filled with concern.

Instead of answering, he stared deeply into her eyes, so deeply it felt he really could see all the way into her soul, as he'd told her she could see into his. Pain lurked in those amazing eyes of his, pain far greater than that in his leg.

She knew he was hurt by the distance between them, because he loved her so much.

"Robin," Marian gasped, as he brushed the sheered ends of her hair off her cheek. Her eyes signalled love back to him, lighting up his entire face with joy, and then, desire. His thumb began stroking her cheek, and she let herself be lulled by its loving caress for a moment or two.

She loved his hands so very much, finding them far more beautiful than her own, with his long, tapering fingers, his fingertips' firm, sensitive pads, and the hard callouses on his palms. There was strength in his hands, strength combined gentleness, and power, almost magic, in the way their touch could move her.

Neither were aware how it happened, but he was lying over her, kissing her as though they'd been parted for months instead of minutes. Between kisses, and deep, ragged breaths, he implored her, "I can't let you throw yourself in harm's way! He's mad, Marian! He's pure evil!"

"Later," she begged him, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pulling his lips to hers again and again and again.

It was later, indeed, when they felt ready to speak again. Ellen's blocks lay strewn on the floor, having been tossed off the bed, and the happy, contented couple lay entwined together, enjoying soft, sweet, afterglow kisses.

Neither wanted to break the mood, but as the moments flew by, the unspoken discussion began to weigh upon them.

Marian was the first to speak.

"How's your leg?" she asked, softly.

"It feels great. Everything feels great. How are you?"

"Worried, that you don't trust me."

"I trust you, Marian, I swear it. I think you underestimate the king. He's no better than those men who tried to buy you, in that bawdy house. In fact, he's worse. You have no idea what he'll demand from you, if you so much as smile at him."

"We've already had this discussion, remember, about his haircut. I flattered him, and he freed his barber. I don't notice the king demanding anything from me, Robin. Why can't I simply dress nicely, go to him, and tell him his wife stole my engagement ring?"

"Because it's playing with fire. Do you remember the time he dressed you up and dropped an eel down your bodice, and then invited men to try to fish it out?"

"Yes, and I remember what he did to the man who dared try."

"He burned out his eyes!"

"Yes! I'm not saying he's not mad."

"He is!"

"I'm well aware of the danger, Robin. But I won't be alluring, I'll be-"

"You can't help not be-"

"I'll be sad, and appealing. I'll appeal to his sense of-"

"Chivalry? He has none, Marian! He lives to be amused, to slake his thirsts and desires. He grows bored instantly, and his practices grow increasingly more evil and perverse, just to keep himself entertained. The less contact you have with King John, the better."

"Fine. We'll do it your way."

"My way?"

"Yes. We'll sneak into Isabella's chambers tonight, and steal back my ring. Together."

She was wearing nothing at all except the outlaw tag, which still hung around her neck. Holding the tag out toward her husband, she reminded him, "I am a member of your gang, after all."

"I don't have a gang anymore, Marian," he told her wearily, wanting to add her own frequent line, "Grow up."

"Tell that to Much. Or to anyone in England, for that matter. You're famous, Robin Hood. Your band will never die. Now," she said, finding her nightdress and pulling it over her head, "what's your plan for tonight? When do we leave Locksley? You should be happy! For once, I'm ready to obey your orders!"