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Post by robrob on Apr 1, 2009 11:01:12 GMT 1
The people of Nottingham had to be admired, Robin pondered to himself as he stole through the streets of the enclosed market, near the heart of Nottingham Castle. Despite the increase of taxes and stricter policies created by the so-called Sheriff of Nottingham, the people persevered. They still came out with their loaves, their fish, their cured hams and they shouted their wares as loudly as it was possible. Not one stall owner seemed down or affected by the plague that seemed to hold the outlying villages down, even though these people probably had a worse time of it. With the guards so much closer to their homes, it was easier to be hassled by the law for their money. Even the shoppers, from Nottingham Town or from nearby villages, seemed as happy as they had been back before he'd left for the Holy Land, back when Nottingham was a peaceful and plentiful area. Children followed after their mothers and played with sticks, old crones gossiped together and young men checked out the local beauties as they stood out the front of a pub.
People only seemed to go quiet when a guard was nearby. It was a sad state of affairs, that the people should be so terrified of those who had promised to protect them, and yet Robin could completely understand. These men weren't the true law – they were just out to line their pockets. It was good that he and his men were around, then, he figured as he snatched an apple off one stall and dropped it into the lap of a small boy as he passed by. He had his hood up, as usual, as well as wearing a cloak. While they weren't the most inconspicuous of garments, it did manage to make him less noticeable to those he wished to disregard him. His face was well known to the guards now and he would stand no chance of completing the task at hand unless he remained invisible to them.
The task being, of course, visiting Marian. He couldn't always steal away directly into the castle and so they had to occasionally make a compromise, involving Robin hiding round the back of one of the stalls. The man who had taken over the cloth stall was friendly and a trusted man, one who had readily agreed to allow Robin access to his help. He would never quite know how grateful Robin was for that, and so the outlaw finally arrived and dove behind the counter, he grinned up at the man and made a shushing motion. He also plucked out a bag of coins and dropped it softly into the man's pockets, physical proof of his gratitude.
Now he just had to wait until he had chance to steal Marian away for a few minutes.
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Post by Marian Fitzwalter on Apr 1, 2009 11:17:43 GMT 1
Marian somehow had a hold over the guard who was meant to watch her every move. She could easily persuade him to give her a few hours to wander alone, either by paying him or by sweet talking him. The guard was yet to be found out, and she was glad of that. It meant she still had the chance of some freedom each day before she was back to being watched like a prisoner. Which she guessed she really was. A prisoner with a bit more of a comfortable cell.
Giving her guard the usual amount of coins and the sweet smile that promised she would go no further than the gates, she watched as he walked away, probably towards The Tripp Inn. It would not exactly surprise her if that was his choice of destination. She was not quite sure what her own destination would be yet, but she was happy enough to just walk around the market and see the various people. Some would smile at her, some would speak. Others would completely ignore her. She was happy for it to be that way.
Wandering up to one of the stalls, she glanced around the contents, smiling a little at the owner. She knew she could buy something, help him a little, but it would have to be something she knew a guard would agree to her buying. After all, as far as Guy and the Sheriff knew, she was under constant supervision. She wandered around it until she found a material she thought would be lovely, and at least she could have a new dress to add to the small collection she had after being brought to the castle.
Not knowing Robin was there, she continued looking around, thinking about which material to purchase. She wouldn't have long, not long enough anyway, and she wanted to make the most of her freedom.
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Post by robrob on Apr 13, 2009 18:40:22 GMT 1
Robin tapped his fingers against the ground impatiently. He'd never been one for waiting when he could be doing something, and he'd already been sitting here for a good couple of hours. He had thought this had been a brilliant idea and he'd been doing the same thing every day for the last couple of days, but to no avail. It was all about getting the day right, he supposed. He should probably have mentioned it to Marian the last time he'd seen her, but he hadn't thought about it properly. He looked up and down the backs of the stalls; to his left, an older woman selling vegetables in her husband's stead. To his right, past the cloth stall owner's legs, a sturdy gentleman attempting to sell what little dainty and badly crafted jewellery he could. Hard to make works of art when you'd lost a few fingers to the law for the crimes of others.
Bored, Robin crawled under the table and had a peek into the street, finding himself with a face full of skirt. He felt rather like a child and considered for the briefest of moments taking a peek up the woman's skirt, before composing himself. That wasn't very gentlemanly to do. Besides, he'd only ever done that to one girl and she'd not been too impressed by it. He winced at the remembered slap and withdrew himself back behind the counter, only to receive a gentle kick from the stall owner. Robin looked up, a delighted grin on his face, and pulled himself to his feet, creeping round the end of the stall and standing up only once he'd gotten to the edge. He pulled his hood up and straightened his cloak, hoping that he made Marian jump with his sudden presence (and feeling a little regretful that he hadn't taken the chance to lift her skirt up – she really was a spoilsport).
”These fabrics please you, ma'am?” he asked, holding one corner up and grinning. ”I believe you'll look most fetching in green, though red will always be my favourite colour on you.”
[ooc: brainfail, short, sorry for taking so long >.<]
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Post by Marian Fitzwalter on Apr 13, 2009 19:40:46 GMT 1
Marian was holding up a green piece of material when she was sure she felt something at her feet. Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes at her own thoughts, thinking it was probably some animal and nothing for her to worry about. She glanced around the market quickly, making sure her guard had not returned early. She really wanted to have a longer walk before she had to go back, possibly try and get out of the market and nearer the forest. Just for a moment she would love to be able to not be surrounded by the feeling of prison, as even in the market she felt like she was in a cage.
Marian placed the material a little, but kept one hand on it. It was such a nice shade and had a nice feel to it, she knew it would be a gentle material to wear and would fit her nicely, especially in the way she would make it. She didn't like that past time much, sitting and sewing a dress, it was never a hobby she had liked, but it was the only thing she could do to escape the guards, they did not enter her room so she spent a lot of time there when she could.
”These fabrics please you, ma'am?”
Marian gasped when she heard the voice close to her ear, her smile instantly widening. Her heart hammered faster in her chest, partly because of the shock and partly because of the happiness.
"I believe they do, sir," she said with a smile, keeping her eyes on the fabric. Slowly, she drew her eyes to his hand, not moving her eyes further.
”I believe you'll look most fetching in green, though red will always be my favourite colour on you.”
Grinning, her eyes looked towards the red material, which had also gotten her attention earlier on. Pulling her eyes back to the green, and to his hand still holding the material, she gently covered his hand with her own, before turning to look at him over her shoulder.
"And why is it your favourite?" she asked, keeping her voice down to stop any attention being brought to them. She rose her eyebrow, a cheeky smile on her face as she waited for his response.
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Post by whochick on May 10, 2009 10:32:12 GMT 1
"Why?" he echoed, giving her his trademark smirk but not able to stop a little of the nostalgia from creeping into his voice. "Because it's the colour you were wearing the first time I saw you after the Holy Land."
She didn't seem to have a reply for that straight away, which was lucky because his throat had closed over with a swell of emotion. She'd been so impressive that day - so full of fire and anger and life! He wasn't sure he'd ever have the words to describe how it had felt to set eyes on her again. For years he'd assumed that part of him had died on the battlefield - that day was the first day he'd wondered if maybe he still had more to offer the world than a dead shot.
"You pointed an arrow in my face," he reminded her, hoping she hadn't been able to read him in his moment of vulnerability. "I thought I'd survived the Saracens only to get slaughtered at home. Just my luck!"
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Post by Marian Fitzwalter on May 10, 2009 22:46:43 GMT 1
"Why? Because it's the colour you were wearing the first time I saw you after the Holy Land."
Marian wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. After all, she never really expected him to notice things like the colour of her clothes that often. It flattered her, against her better judgement. She liked thinking that she had made an impression then that he still remembered. Of course, at that moment he was talking about, she was slightly taken aback at seeing him. Angry of course, but old feelings had taken over.
"You pointed an arrow in my face,"
Marian grinned a little, turning her head back to look at the fabrics. She remembered that moment, very well. Anger at him suddenly appearing, remembering the anger and sadness she felt when he left. In the moment she told herself that she was playing along that she did not want to see him to protect her father, but she knew it would not take long for him to charm her, despite how much she had grown. He always held that over her, no matter how much she was hurt by him.
"I thought I'd survived the Saracens only to get slaughtered at home. Just my luck!"
Marian turned fully now, looking up at him with a slight smile. She did not like the thought of him being slaughtered, no matter the circumstance, but considering she knew he was talking about her reaction to seeing him she felt slightly more lighthearted towards the conversation.
"Well you better be careful, just because I put my arrow away that time does not mean I will not bring it out again," she said with a slightly cheeky grin. She knew she never would, and also knew he could disarm her quicker than she could pull the bow back to fire the arrow.
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Post by whochick on May 14, 2009 5:38:26 GMT 1
Robin's smile widened into one of genuine affection. "Well, you could try, but I think ..." he whipped up a hand and produced a coin from behind her ear, " ... I'm still faster than you."
It was a cheap parlour trick and he knew it, so Robin used the coin to purchase the fabric Marian had been admiring. The money was stolen and the present unworthy, but it gave him a little joy and was thus worth doing.
There were too few happy moments in life.
"When will you come to the forest again?"
He asked before his brain had caught up with his mouth. What he was asking was needlessly dangerous. Marian could pass information to him a thousand less dangerous ways ... but he wanted to see her. Not here, where he had to face away from her, hide from her, speak to her in sideways glances and stolen moments. He wanted to look her full in the face, feel the full force of her personality ... he wanted to be himself around her - a luxury he rarely afforded himself with anyone.
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Post by Marian Fitzwalter on May 15, 2009 22:28:32 GMT 1
"Well, you could try, but I think... I'm still faster than you."
Marian grinned a little, amused by such a childish trick. Perhaps it was because it reminded her of when they were children and she often would be amazed by the things he did to amuse or charm her. As much as she wanted to pretend that he did not still have such a hold on her, she knew he did.
"Robin, I do not need you to buy me things," she spoke quickly when he bought the material. However, she was rather happy that he had. "But thank you."
"When will you come to the forest again?"
Marian sighed, looking at the ground for a moment. She had been waiting for that, knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself. Looking back up at him, she wanted to just run then, stay with him. But she had her father. Reaching up, she cupped his cheek in her hand, running her finger across his rough skin.
"You know how hard it is for me. I cn not take too many risks, my father...I can not risk my father's health."
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