'Marian, I had hoped that you could keep your dress intact at least until we reach Locksley.'

The girl looked up at her father's mild reprimand. His eyes twinkled gently at her and she stopped trying to pick apart the hem of her dress.

'Why are we going to Locksley now in any case?' she asked.

'I have things to discuss with the Earl of Huntingdon,' he replied.

'Why can you not discuss these things at the council of nobles?' she asked, trying to hide the petulance in her voice.

Her father was silent a moment, then said, 'Ah, we have arrived.'

Marian looked out of the window to see Locksley Manor and was suddenly overwhelmed by a keen sense of… loss. She hadn't been here since she her mother died when she was four. Her memories of that time were only the vaguest of images. Always including her mother and Lady Locksley talking and laughing while the four year old Marian tried hard to escape their clutches.

That had been nine years ago, and since her mother died neither she nor her father had been here. Her father was too busy with his Sheriff duties and as far as Marian knew, Lady Locksley had been sick these past five years, a lingering illness that somehow made her husband age every time Marian saw him in Nottingham.

The man in question walked out of the house, smiling and spreading his arms wide as Marian and her father disembarked from the carriage.

'My lord Sheriff!' he greeted.

'Locksley!' her father returned. The two men shook hands and then embraced like old friends.

Marian lurked behind her father, feeling like baggage. Lord Locksley turned to look at her and smiled again. Marian noticed the man looked tired and careworn.

'This must be little Lady Marian.' He walked over to where she stood and looked at her appraisingly. 'Lady Marian, why so solemn?' he greeted.

She smiled reluctantly.

'That's better,' Lord Locksley said, 'my wife awaits us inside with our son. She will be pleased to see you,' he said, looking at Marian.

Marian and her father followed him towards the house. Marian had a sinking feeling, she had forgotten that Locksley had a son; the boy was noticeable only by his absence in Nottingham. She found herself wondering at the motive behind this sudden visit.

--

The boy, as it turned out was not present. His disappearance had agitated his father.

'I am sure he will turn up,' Lady Locksley said, her eyes, dulled by long illness, illuminated momentarily by amusement.

Locksley smiled at his wife, 'My wife spoils our son.'

They ate lunch, her father and Lord Locksley talking of their work until Lady Locksley sighed and loudly asked Marian who had made her dress.

After lunch, Marian was left alone with Lady Locksley while the men retired to another room.

Lady Locksley, apparently exhausted by the day lay down upon her bed. She motioned Marian to sit beside her.

'Look at you,' Lady Locksley said, her voice warm. 'A grown girl of thirteen, and so well behaved. My son would be put to shame, were he here.' She smiled at Marian, 'You look like your mother, you know,' she winced, 'I expect everyone tells you that.'

Marian nodded, her eyes on Lady Locksley's rug.

'You are young to be spending time with the old and the sick,' Lady Locksley said, 'Go outside and play. If you are anything like your mother you will be stifled by the talk downstairs and I am tired.'

'Thank you, Lady Locksley,' Marian said, dipping her head and heading out of the room.

Lady Locksley had been wrong, Marian was interested in what her father and Lord Locksley were discussing, however she had found no way to get near them. Frustrated and disappointed, Marian found herself wandering through Locksley, up into the long grass that lay between the village and the forest.

Suddenly an arrow flew past her, missing her by inches. She screamed, then felt slightly ashamed. The arrow had not hit her, after all.

A voice came out of the trees. 'There! Now you've killed someone! Happy?' The voice sounded exasperated.

'I am sorry!' The second voice sounded terrified, and more than a little sulky.

A boy appeared, stalking out of the long grass, bow in hand. He stopped short when he saw Marian. He was dressed in what had – at some point – been a white shirt, but was now an interesting mixture of mud-brown and green. The boy's hair was a mess, grass sticking up through the too-long strands.

Marian regarded him disdainfully. This seemed to please him, for the boy smiled. As he did so, Marian felt herself smiling back, almost against her will. Then another boy emerged from the grass and ran into the first, sending him tumbling, rolling until he landed at Marian's feet.

The spell broke, Marian stepped back hurriedly, whipping her skirts out of the way of the ball of dirt and grass at her feet.

The second boy rushed forward, pushing blonde hair out of his eyes, and pulled his friend to his feet.

'Sorry,' the darker boy said, his eyes belying the sincerity of his tone.

Marian looked down, aghast, and realised she'd been too late in removing her skirts to a place of safety. The hem of her dress was covered in mud and grass stains.

'My father is going to kill you,' she said, shooting the dark haired boy a glare.

The blonde boy looked from his friend – smiling again, Marian noted – and back to Marian. He opened his mouth to say something.

'Its only a dress,' the dark-haired boy said, cocking his head to one side, green eyes regarding her with what was fast approaching inappropriateness.

She held his gaze fiercely for a few moments, then he turned and headed into the forest. She stared after him.

After going several yards he turned and walked backwards a few paces. 'Well come on!'

Marian frowned at the boy, then looked to his friend, who shrugged and said, 'We will help you clean up.'

Marian nodded and started after the boy, his friend at her side.

'I'm Much,' the blonde boy said.

Marian merely glanced at him disdainfully.

--

The boys had led her to a stream in the forest, where she'd cleaned her dress as best she could. When she was finished she rose and turned, finding that they'd apparently taken up their archery practice again.

She allowed herself to study them while they were otherwise engaged. Looking at them now, she could see they were a few years older than she, fifteen at the least. The face of the blonde one – Much – still bore a childlike chubbiness, making Marian think he was younger than the other, whose face was thinner, more adult.

At that moment the darker one was watching his friend draw the bow, murmuring instructions to him. She watched as Much let the arrow go, missing all targets entirely. The darker boy laughed, not unkindly, and went to fetch the arrow.

Much sank down on the grass beside Marian sighing. 'I'll never be as good as he is, and yet he insists on doing this.'

His friend returned and began firing arrows into the tree with pinpoint accuracy. Showing off, Marian thought wryly. All the same, she could not seem to tamp down thoughts of how good he was at it and found herself watching his face as he fired, the intensity in his gaze quite… stirring.

'You didn't tell me your name,' Much said conversationally. Marian glanced at him. He'd produced an apple from somewhere about his person and was eating it with every sign of blissful enjoyment.

'Marian,' she responded, slightly less annoyed now that her dress was – slightly – cleaner.

'Marian,' he repeated. Then choked on his apple. 'Marian?'

She nodded, her eyes on the darker boy again.

'Master!' Much yelled, startling the archer and causing his arrow – for once - to miss its target.

'Much!' the boy exclaimed, peeved.

'Master?' Marian repeated, puzzled.

'Master,' Much said, reaching the other boy's side. 'This is Marian,' - the boy continued to look blank – 'The daughter of the Sheriff of Nottingham!'

A mischievous light came into the boy's green eyes. 'But this cannot be Marian Fitzwalter,' he said, walking over to her 'The Maid Marian is on her way to becoming a lady, and would never consent to come into the forest with boys she hardly knew. Especially not when one of them had tried to shoot her.'

'I did not try to-'

'Who are you?' Marian demanded, her eyes hard.

The boy had reached her, and suddenly Marian found herself overwhelmed by his sheer presence. He smiled at her and she had to stop her own lips curving upwards in response.

He took her hand and brought it to his lips, his chivalrous actions betrayed by the smirk on his face. 'Robin of Locksley, my lady.'

She stared at him, her expression blank for a moment. Then she recovered sufficiently to snatch her hand away before his lips met her skin.

They stared at one another for a few moments. Much, who feared he had disappeared from their minds, cleared his throat.

Remembering herself, Marian looked away, annoyed by the smirk that appeared on Robin's lips. She eyed the bow in his hand. He saw her look and handed it to her, surprising her.

'Let us see if you can outshoot Much,' he said, smiling.

'Master!' Much protested.

Marian took the bow and the arrow the boy proffered. Obviously, he expected her to barely be able to draw the bow. Obviously he expected her to try and fail.

She set her mouth in a grim line and fired. The arrow found its mark in the tree Robin had been using for target practice minutes before.

She turned and handed the boy his bow, then she strode off in the direction of Locksley.

'Where are you going?' Robin called after her.

'Back to Locksley.'

'Why?'

The simple question threw her. She turned and glared at him. 'Because my father will be wondering where I am.'

'Not for a couple of hours, at least,' he said, 'its much more fun out here, with me and Much.'

Much rolled his eyes at his master, but Marian found herself smiling. 'What is there to do in a forest?'

'I'm sure we'll think of something.'

--