Unpolished Duels

It had been the kind of fight that didn't leave you smiling. Sheriff Vaysey had employed a new Guard and this had been its first encounter with the infamous sovereigns of Sherwood Forest. No, guard wasn't the right word, it was an army, an army of well trained soldiers that fought like real knights - people with conviction that enjoyed their profession and took pride in it.

It had been the kind of fight that you were lucky to escape alive and to make it worse it had been raining. No, raining was not enough - it had been pouring down over them as if the sky had cracked open and some substantial sea in Heaven swept down over Sherwood, making it impossible to see properly. But in the end it may well have been the rain that saved them. The outlaws had lighter gear and were used to fighting is small, ragged constellations. Individually or back to back they had been struggling to live through the skirmish, shouting to each other through the noise of clenching metal and the plunging drops of water that attacked the ground and made it move under them. It was slippery and treacherous like the bottom of a spring river but when they fell it had been easier for them to rise, so they used their advantages and upheld some sort of resistance.

It had been the kind of fight that left you bruised and filled with desperate, agonising terror. And then she came. Marian had thrown herself into the fight as herself, not the Nightwatchman. Robin could still feel the scream rippling through his body, his voice felt hoarse from the loud panicking 'NO!' that he had thrown out in a vain attempt to stop this madness. But she was reckless and too bold and they had fought side by side as he found a way out because he had to. Now they ran through the forest, soaking wet but the followers had given up as the gang shattered into the forest. He held her hand in his, clutching it so hard that it must hurt but refused to let her go. How could she be so silly!? She could have gotten herself killed! She could have died before his eyes in that insane fight, witch by the way should have been doomed from the start. It was a miracle that they got out of there alive, any of them.

It was still raining and the weather made it dusky as if the night was approaching hours before it was due. He still went on the adrenaline rush from the fight, spurred by the terror of seeing Marian ducking away from another skilful blow of the solder's heavy swords. The mere reminiscence made his heart pound faster and he found new strength from the fear, increasing the speed even though they weren't followed. Marian asked him to stop and he could feel her getting tired, the little hand that was so firmly enclosed in his got heavier as she slowed her pace and he had to drag her along the muddy forest floor.

"Robin!" she finally exclaimed as she felt the last of her patience escaping her. "There is a barn over there, no one is following us, I am tired and cold and it is raining! If we do not stop now we will get sick and I'd rather deprive the sheriff of that particular satisfaction, if you don't mind."

The words 'tired' and 'cold' pushed through the wall of adrenaline and forced Robin to come to his senses. He slowed down and lightened the grip around her hand, then steered towards the barn by the forest's edge.

There was a smell of hay and damp wood in the wooden structure, water leaking in trough cracks in the roof that let in some of they grey light and made it slightly less dusky. Robin let go of Marian's hand, then he turned to her with a sigh. They looked at each other in silence for a couple of seconds, Robin's eyes wide and slightly accusing and Marian sullenly rubbing the hand that had been squashed during the desperate escape.

"I am sure that you know what I'm about to say" Robin finally said between panting breaths and looked at Marian much like a mother watches a disobedient child. She snorted.

"Something like 'Marian, what do you think you are doing?'"

"Marian…" Robin said with a joyless smile that was filled with restrained anger "What do you think you are doing?!"

"I'm helping you, you fool! What does it look like I'm doing! In case you didn't notice you were in a bit of a peril over there"

"Nothing we couldn't handle!" Robin exclaimed, giving in to the urge to yell out the words that tugged on his mind "And you coming there hardly helped, did it?!"

"It could have helped! I had to try. If you think I'm going to just stand by and watch as you get yourself killed you are badly mistaken…" Marian had to bite her lip not to add 'young man' to the sentence. He was doing his best to wind her up, and a silly girl as she was she had expected at least some gratitude from the man who claimed to love her with such passion.

"No" Robin said and restrained himself again "No, you couldn't have helped because you are in no position to fight trained soldiers!"

"What is that supposed to mean?!"

"It means what it means!"

"It means…" Marian said as it dawned on Robin too late that he had taken it too far. She wasn't merely angry with him, she was furious. "It means that I am a worse fighter that you and your gang" Her voice was soft, almost silky and slightly seductive, like a sniper getting ready to attack. It had been unwise to patronize her, he knew it had been unwise but the fear of losing her made him reckless.

"No" he said "I didn't mean that Marian… You just fight… differently"

"Oh no, Robert formerly-of-Locksley, you are not going to squirm yourself out of this one. Tell me, exactly how am I a… what did you call it... a different fighter than you lads? It is because I am clean and doesn't walk in tatters?"

"No! It's just… These men were not useless castle guards Marian! They were trained soldiers! They were… like me. People of war. And my men do not walk in tatters!"

"Like you!? They were like you? As opposed to the useless castle guards that are like me you mean?"

The blazing look in Marian's eyes made Robin curse under his breath. Wrong approach apparently... His mind worked feverishly to find a way to get out of this, he would much rather sit curled up in the hay with Marian in his arms, whispering tender nothings in her ear. He should never have started this argument had he only been cautious enough to think about the consequences. Reasoning with Marian never worked, she was always so stubborn, and to make it worse… Well to make it worse she looked almost criminally attractive in the dim light from the cracks in the roof and walls. She was wet, the cloth in her dress (Oh God she had been fighting in a dress!!!!) clung to her body and her hair lay in dark, ruffled strands around the slightly flushed face. She had a steady, fiery look in her eyes, challenging him into a duel that he was bound to lose, and her lips were red from the exhaustion that made her chest heave with every sharp breath. He forced his eyes away from her, taking on a sudden interest in the roof.

"Seems like the rain in getting weaker…" he mumbled. "Maybe we won't have to stay the night at here least."

"You are changing the subject!" Marian exclaimed with her face painted in indignation.

"Yes! Yes, I am changing the subject… I'm sorry I don't know what to say. I don't want you fighting trained soldiers because you are in fact not a trained soldier, and it would kill me to loose you. There you go, it is as simple as that, fight me on it if you like, I will not yield."

"Oh, you are impossible!"

"I'm impossible?! I just told you I can't loose you and you do your best to bite my tongue off!"

"This isn't about you and me…"

"It is about you and me! Everything is, Marian, you think this war is greater than us? No war is greater than the people fighting it. No war!"

"Yet you would gladly give your life for it."

"I care more about your life than my own."

"That is irrational! You know it is… And what is my life without you? One without joy, without future? Can't you see that I was afraid too?!" Marian shut her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm her wildly beating heart. He made her furious, burning with righteous anger, and yet… Yet what were they fighting for? Had not enough time been wasted on anger between them? "Right" she sighed "You don't think me fit to fight soldiers, then you will have to teach me."

"What?"

"You are a trained soldier - you even excel in your art" she smirked, knowing that the compliments would get to him the way they always did "You're a masterly swordsman, I have heard, and something of a god with that bow. I don't need archery training but you seem to think I need to learn how to fight properly with a sword."

"Marian…" Robin said "You don't have to do this… You are already useful for the cause if that is what you worry about."

"You have taught your men haven't you? Then you can teach me too."

Robin looked at her again, made an effort to read the stubborn expression in her face and took a quick decision not to argue further about this.

"Fine" he said "Grab one of those sticks and let's get on with it then."

She gave him a puzzled look as he paced over to the wall and reached for a stick. "What? Now?" she said.

"Might as well, we are stuck in here after all."

She watched her wet and obviously tired lover as he made room for them in the middle of the barn, clearing away rubble and hay. She could see that he moved without his usual vigour and she guessed that he must be as exhausted and aching from the fight as she was. Him asking her to do this now was a way to challenge her, forcing her to her limits in order to make her back out. That way he had an excuse not to train her later and she would never hear the end of it. You didn't seem so keen that time in the barn. Marian clenched her teeth and frowned slightly. She would not have him win that easily! With a rather proud little smile she straightened her back and moved away to one of the sticks that lay thrown on the floor. When she closed her hand around it she could feel her finger's still aching from Robin's rather too firm grip on the way here, and she cursed silently. Damn you Robin Hood, I'll teach one or two things about gentle forest strolls one of these days! She thought bitterly. You will be so bored you'll wish you were never born, I will talk of nothing but embroidery and pressed flowers and bluntly refuse to let you kiss me…

It was a strange fight, both opponents smiling in a way that seemed a bit flirty yet filled with tense, focused energy, determined to have the upper hand. They circled around each other, Robin giving Marian advice and Marian refusing to follow most of it. He was impressed with her way of fighting, she was indeed much better than he had expected, and she on the other hand was frustrated to realise that she had flaws and might actually need the training.

"No, Marian… Marian! You can't do that, love" Robin smiled some time into the practice. It had become a kind of tense dance by then, the circling of their bodies just a little bit too exciting for him to be completely at ease. Thus he felt rather relieved to find a way to get some distance from her, if only for a moment, to gather his thoughts and force them away from her almost suffocating presence.

"What, why? What did I do?" Marian said with confusion in her voice.

"You are holding the sword on the blade! You will cut your palm!"

Marian looked at the stick in her hands. She held it firmly, one hand on the 'handle' and the other on the opposite side, using it to fend of Robin's forceful blow.

"It's a stick" she pointed out, quirking her eye brow at Robin while she let go of the 'blade'. "It is quite blunt you know."

"No it's not, it is a sword! Listen, I can't teach you to fight with a sword if you insist of treating the sword like a stick!"

"But it is a stick" she said again. Then she gave out a sigh "Boys' games, huh? Pretend the stick is a sword - clang, clang you're dead."

"More like squish, squish your hand is bleeding like a slaughtered pig. Please just cooperate a little - it was you that wanted to do this!"

She held back a smile at her lover's apparent indignation, he was as easy to annoy now as he had been five or six years ago, and decided to play along.

"Fine, it is a sword" she agreed.

"Right. A light one-hand sword, quite short. It will make use of your advantages best." Robin was embarrassed to realise that he blushed slightly when he heard how that last comment sounded in his mouth. "That you are swift and agile I mean" he explained, then added with a rather smug grin to regain the upper hand "… and a short sword won't be hindered by any of your assets."

"Robin!" Marian exclaimed "I don't think my assets will be a problem, and it certainly won't matter what size the blade is."

"No you may be right, size doesn't matter they say..."

"Lucky you then" she snorted with a raised eyebrow. "Says who, incidentally?"

"Do you want to do this or what?" Robin exclaimed "Now, hold the sword firmly in your strongest hand, but don't squeeze it too hard…" he made a short pause at the sight of her eyes that widened notably at this comment, but she decided to let it pass. Why was it suddenly so hot in here, he thought as he realised that his body was trembling in a very un-warrior-like manner. He licked his lips quickly and rolled his neck before he took a deep breath and continued the lesson. "You will just get cramp eventually if you squeeze it too hard. Balance is everything, so make sure you got complete control over the stick… sword… weapon in your hand."

"I have held a sword before Robin."

"Yes, well, now I am the teacher."

"So you insist on claiming."

"Right, I do insist. Are you ready? Here we go again…"

"What colour?"

"What!?"

"Well you have told me everything else about the sword, now that it is not, as it would seem, a stick… I though the colour might be of some importance."

"Marian!!!" Robin sighed and threw out his arms in a resigned gesture, only to bend double as Marian's 'sword' was plunged into his stomach. "Ouff! What are you doing?!"

"But you forgot the first rule Robin, never let you concentration fail. It seems like the pupil has outwitted the master." Then she smirked and added "Clang, clang, you're dead…"

Priceless. The expression in Robin's face was just priceless! Marian had to bite down hard to not start laughing - she loved to irritate him on days when he had managed to upset her. She was still angry even though the emotion was subdued now, and it found its way out only through her stubborn quarrelling. This gentle teasing was a game they had played before, struggling to get the upper hand, but it was a dangerous kind of leisure. Challenging each other like this made the tension between them come alive and sparkle with tickling excitement, making it impossible to ignore.

Perhaps it was the smell of the hay, or maybe it was the mildly irritated tension between them that triggered the memory, but it came to both of them in the same moment of uncomfortable silence. It had been in a barn just like this, and it had been years ago, when they were young and could blame on not knowing better. But they had known, oh how they had known, that they took everything too far. There had been ale involved and they knew that it was wrong. Only to be alone with each other was pushing the limits, and in that setting; a barn where they had no one to check in on them but the cows and the rats (that Marian hated) and the spiders (that Robin always shied away from to his own embarrassment), it was even worse. They had been giggling and playing teasing games with each other, gently tickling the limits, trying to get the other one to loose control even though they knew that someone had to be steady and wise. Eventually the air between them got thick with anticipation and that feeling of craving and raw lust that they weren't allowed to taste but found it impossible to stay away from all the same. It was okay for Robin to want, it was even accepted for him to have, as long as the woman beneath him was, well, beneath him in a social sense. A respectable noble woman, one that he was about to marry on the other hand, was forbidden fruit. Ironically they were encouraged to enjoy each other's company and even chaste love was looked kindly upon, but as soon as it got obvious that Robin looked forward to the less chaste parts of a marriage with Marian he was punished for it. He wasn't allowed to find her attractive but was expected to love her all the same, and neither of the young couple managed to really understand the logic in this. As for Marian, she just shouldn't feel at all. Oh she could pine and agonise in her lover's absence, even a lack of appetite and an aloof, dreaming expression was considered 'sweet', but she wasn't allowed to give even a fleeting though to her lover's more physical side. Young Marian found that bit especially challenging because he just looked so tasty…

They had pushed their limits further and further, and on that night they had passed them all. It hadn't been a very pleasant experience for either of the two lovers, least of all for Robin. It had taken years for him to regain his confidence when it came to matters of the flesh, mainly because he didn't get another chance to practice it until a lonely and rather unholy night in the Holy land. Both Robin and Marian were nervous and just a little bit too drunk that time in the barn, and the fumbling half-undressed roll around the hay had been over before it really started. Then they had been sitting in a shared embarrassment and talked about, well, decorating Locksley, carefully avoiding the questions of 'How was that for you' and 'What do we do now?' that barricaded themselves their minds. There had been hay everywhere. Marian had found straws tucked in between her undergarments, and Much had given Robin very suspicious glances when the young master came back looking like a flushed scarecrow.

That was then. In a barn just like this one, and with at tension that was considerably easier to control that what they lingered in now. They were pushing on those same limits again, but in two grown up bodies that knew what they wanted and what they could have if they only dared the final step. He had wanted a chance to prove to her that it could be better than that first time. Every time he had been with a woman (not that it happened very often, but he had used it as a soothing balm from time to time when life became unbearable) a stubborn, nostalgic part of his mind insisted on looked upon it as training. If he had another chance, he had been thinking, he could do so many things to her... At times the yearning for her had been so strong that he had cried in spite of his better judgement, emotions running wild from alcohol and the presence of a woman's warm body. There had been compassionate confusion in the big kind eyes of the Saracen girls that made a living of soldiers like him, and he had talked to them about her, the woman that he left behind. He had been a fool to long for her like he did, knowing that he had lost his chance. He had been a fool to cling to a youthful romance, a teenage sweetheart that should have been forgotten as the years hardened him to a man. But instead the memories of her just changed, he remembered little details that he had been to young to appreciate when he knew her, and he saw every encounter in a new light. Some things he wished he could have done differently, relived them in his head with new lines and actions, and that day in the barn was one of them. He never regretted it, just regretted that he made so very little of it, leaving her with memories of him that were less amiable than he wished.

That was their love, always pushing the edges. The pursuit of chaste love as the one in the ballads looked so ashen compared to the earthy, craving passion on witch's borders they always treaded in each other's company. When the world you live in is in limbo 'tradition' is a silly, futile word, and this time around they had no illusions. Marian knew exactly what Robin thought as his eyes got dark and dazed when he watched her and she wondered for a minute if he could hear her heart beat like a drumstick in her trembling chest.

"Robin" she said with an effort to hide the unsteadiness in her voice. Her breathing was fast and ragged and she felt week with light shivers rippling through her body. Her skin seemed electrified, every sensation heightened, and the idea of his fingers brushing against her body now almost made her gasp for air. She had to regain control. "We should get on with the practice perhaps?"

"Hm" Robin answered with a nod, not trusting his voice to form any substantial words. He had a feeling of being paralyzed by the way Marian's lips moved when she spoke, soft and inviting, and her chest heaved with every breath in a way that plucked on his attention, making blood flow south and leaving very little for his brain. Her body would be different now than it was five years ago, he knew as much, and he had felt it though the clothes during their deep kisses and tight embraces. It was enough to spur his imagination quite a bit, the way the years had amplified the femaleness of her shape; every curve seemed softer and even more enticing.

He made en effort to shrug it off, forced himself to snap out of the spell she held him under. "Once again then" he said "And remember that the stick is indeed a sword and very sharp."

She listened a bit more carefully to his instructions this time, accepting the fact that he had a lot of practice in the ways of a soldier and seemed able to anticipate every blow she made with the stick. Somehow the air between them changed, first slowly and then suddenly in the manner that most changes come, it got thick and buzzing with tension and felt heavy in Marian's lungs. Robin was warm and slightly sweaty now, the hair and clothes still soaking wet from the rain and hugging tightly around his body. He seemed shabby and dishevelled but not in any unpleasant or repulsing way. She felt a sudden urge to tread her fingers through the damp hair, taking a firm grip and pulling him closer. Yet she resisted it and tried to shift her focus back to the stick in his hand and the soft voice giving her encouragement and instructions. It had gotten husky and a bit trembling she realised, as if talking took considerable effort, and he made foolish beginner's mistakes that he hadn't done for years. His hooded jumper lay discarded some bit away, a pile of damp brown wool on the muddy floor, and he was only clothed in the laced pants and a thin white shirt. It was equally damp however, and the sight of his muscles moving under the cloth made Marian feel flushed and distracted. She could see right through the wet shirt, he might as well take it off, she thought with a mild irritation over the effect he had on her. His voice, the husky and trembling tone even more pronounced as the training carried on, came only in short words now, absentminded noises without meaning, and his breathing was shallow and fast. She saw an opening for her stick and managed to strike him over the side with enough force to make it noticeable without being too painful, and he looked so confused at his own clumsiness that Marian held back on the scornful comment.

"Good" Robin said with a strained smile "You're a fast learner…" Or I'm a fast un-learner. Damn why was he so distracted?! It was her breasts, he thought, the way they moved when she moved. He had never fought anyone with that kind of… pronounced roundness… and once they caught his attention he found it impossible not to look at them, hypnotised and dizzy with thoughts he wasn't allowed to think. Had a priest known where his mind was straying during this strange duel, then he would have made Robin say so many Ave Maria he might as well have taken up the cloth. He forced his eyes away from her chest moving them up to her collarbones, and wondered absently why it took a Marian for him to realise how exquisite collarbones were. Everything about her seemed intoxicating, the way she grazed her lips with the tip of her tongue when she was focused, how she shook her head to get rid of the wet strands of hair from her eyes… She must be doing it on purpose as her eyes seemed mischievous and the light grin on her face vaguely challenging. She raised all bets, took the game one step further, and it lay the sexual tension between them naked and exposed. The ball was on his pitch so he decided to play along, retaliating by closing the distance between them. The sticks made a low thudding noise when they bumped into each other and he suddenly realised that this move may have been a mistake. His arm brushed against her skin with a light tingling shock and he could feel the heat emanating from her warm body, her ragged breaths against his skin and the big blue eyes that seemed almost black with desire.

It was in the end the realisation that her dusky look echoed his own hunger for her that made the last of his self-control ripple through his fingers. To know that she wanted him, that his light touch gave her goose bumps and made her body shiver with anticipation, put a spell on him that wouldn't be cowed. He dropped the stick in a way that made it seem like he simply forgot that is was in his hand, and restrained himself through the blissful dizziness that overcame him and washed his mind clean. There were no thoughts other than the knowledge of her body heat, blinded by the overwhelming sensations of her eyes that partly closed as his hand made their way around her neck, the feeling of her head falling back a little while the lips parted and a light gasp escaped her. Robin trembled and he wondered if she could feel it, suddenly aware of a desperate urge to make her realise exactly what she did to him, what she meant for him, but he felt unable to express anything. Any word he spoke would come out as a longing moan of desire and he held her head more firmly between his hands as he moved closer, gently grazing her lips with his.

Marian could feel the sensation of his lips against hers, a soft inviting wetness just out of reach, and waited in trembling anticipation for his next move. He did it all so slowly when all she wanted was to give in to the rush of intoxicating desire that rippled through her body and made her skin feel electrified. They breathed the same air for a while as he stood and locked his eyes into hers while he gave her lips feather light pecks that were so obviously restrained and tense with barley subdued craving for more. She let her hands move up over his chest, gingerly stroking the wet cloth that was warm from his heat. He was tense, she realised, his chest heaving violently as he breathed and the heart pounded hard under her hand. A slight giddiness came over her as she realised that it was she that did this to him, he was loosing control because of her. She let her hand linger there, right over the heart that he gave to her so completely, while moving her other hand up around his neck to pull him closer. Robin made a sound that were somewhere between a sigh and a groan and then he gave in to her will and let the kiss deepen. It was soft at first, passionate and sweet, yet unbound and taut with animated promises.

Mine, Robin thought as he let the kiss get wilder, sucking and teasing while they moved as one over the barn floor in a different kind of duel. Mine, she is actually mine! He let one of his hands drop to her waist and pulled her closer so that their bodies seemed almost merged. All those years of yearning, longing, the futile hope that she would have waited for him lingering through every fight. The thought of her in someone else's arms had made him wake with a silent scream in their overrated Holy land, sweaty with fear and agonising regret. Mine! All mine! He gripped his arm around her almost possessively and she let her own arms encircle his neck, burying her head against his ear. He could hear her breathe, sharp fast breaths, and the lips that pressed against his him started to play with the sensitive skin behind his ear. Alive, he thought as he gave her neck a deep red suck-mark. Alive and mine and marked…

The feeling of Robin's rough stubble against her neck made Marian inhale sharply. He was so close, held her like their bodies were only in the way for the nearness he wanted and needed to be desperately glued and clenched together. She realised that it was fear, that same terror that made him hold her hand to tightly when they ran through the forest and fasten the pace even though they hadn't been followed. Now the rough stubble was mixed with the soft wet kisses and he bit down on her skin, nibbling and sucking until she almost screamed out loud. They had been here before, this was not a problem. As long as someone said stop in time they would be fine. Yet she didn't want to say stop, and neither did he. She wanted to know what it could be like when you weren't nervous teenagers fumbling around in the hay while the alcohol dulled everything off. She wanted to explore these last unknown territories that had spurred her excitement on through the years. She wanted to know if he could do to her for real as he did in her dreams, the kind of wake dreams that made her bite down on her hand in order not to cry out and left her flushed and drowsy.

They circled around, twirling and pushing each other, still struggling to have the upper hand, and it got increasingly forceful and out of control. She could feel him hard and craving against her, he sensed her soft and inviting around him, she shuffled him ahead and he pushed back, making them loose balance and fall down into the soft hay. The fall made them stop for a while, watching each other cautiously through the fog in lust and longing. Her legs were spread wide, making the dress fold up against her waist and exposing the snug trousers that she wore under it. They were wet, Robin realised, even her undergarments were damp from the rain. She looked flushed and dishevelled, her breasts heaving with her breaths and the partly dried hair messy, and he though she had never looked lovelier. He felt a sudden rush of overwhelming tenderness for the woman before him, a feeling of vertigo as he gazed into the sheer depths of his love for her. There seemed to be no boundaries, a feeling to big to grasp and impossible to watch without getting lost. The vulnerability frightened him and had it been anyone else he would have escaped it, fled to safer grounds where he had a chance to regain control. She crawled under his skin, invaded his mind and body and filled up his world but he wouldn't have it any other way. He smiled at her while taking a straw out from her hair and grazed her cheek with his thumb. He was lying over her but supported his knees against the hay and couched down to give her a light kiss. He was still filled with desire, his body aching to be close to her, but he needed to step back, get some blood back to his brain and make his thoughts function. He felt so woozy and intoxicated, feared the strength of his own lust because it was raw and untamed and he didn't want to hurt or push her. It had to come from her if they were to take it further, they both knew it, and they both knew that they couldn't stop now. This had just been a matter of time.

"How do you feel?" Robin finally said in his softest voice "Are you still cold?"

"Quite the opposite…" she laughed, sounding rather out of breath, and he realised that he must look like a fool because he couldn't stop grinning.

"Good" he smiled. "You look very pretty."

"Yes, they say the scarecrow-look is in vogue this summer. I'm glad I can pull it off."

"It will help when you come and live with me in the forest."

"Robin…" she started but then she bit her lip, deciding to stop the argument before it began. She wanted to be with him, wished nothing more than to be with him at least once, untainted by arguments and futile quarrelling. "You look very pretty too" she smirked instead and he laughed, filled with the anticipating tension that made everything feel on the edge as if it was all about to explode. Then she moved her hand to his belt buckle causing his breath to get stuck in his throat and the blood that he had forced to his brain stubbornly running south again. Everything up until now had been fine, too far but still on rather safe ground, this was not. It was new and he felt himself squirm and twist when her fingers tugged the belt, pulling him closer. He lost balance and suddenly there were no distance between them again, the hay forming a soft cradle around their bodies, and he tucked in his arms under her waist.

Marian was still holding the belt buckle, feeling the skin on his abdomen pressing on her wrist and she let her hands trail their way up his chest under the wet shirt. It had to come off, she thought, pulling the hem up to his arms and he gave her a mischievous grin.

"Anxious to get me naked?" he said with an annoyingly smug expression.

"I wouldn't talk too much if I was you, I may change my mind" she gently pointed out in order to silence him.

"Oh I'm not complaining…" he said, shifting slightly to pull the shirt over his head. The sudden nakedness made him feel self-conscious, even though she had seen his scarred body before under different circumstances. He had felt uneasy that time, but now that feeling was amplified by the exposed sexuality between them. He was usually not a man to feel shy, knowing that women found his appearance appealing, but to be naked like this with Marian's hand's exploring the tough skin made him feel clumsy and imperfect. She must have felt him tense and withdraw slightly because her hands became more determined, moving with eagerness in the way they stubbornly stroked every bit of skin on his strong arms and chest. It almost made him blush that she was the one who was forward and pushed on and it dawned on him that they still played the same game, still challenged each other. Though the swords were gone they still fought to get the upper hand, but it was an ironic game where the one who lost got the most pleasure from it. He wanted to make her burn and scream with bliss and she played with his body as if it was an instrument she needed to master to make him loose control and give in to her every touch. He leaned down to kiss her, his lips crashing to hers, their embrace wild and untamed. Her hands seemed to be everywhere, gripping the hair in his neck, gingerly stroking his scar, trailing down under the waistband of his trousers… Oh God! His moan was muffled by her lips and he buried his head in the nape of her neck, breathing heavily with his mouth open as he found the spot behind her ear that always made her squirm and gasp for air. He kissed her and kissed her, nibbling gently on her earlobe, making a trail of light pecks along her jaw then sucked and tugged her lower lip.

She had felt him aroused before. The difference this time was that eventually it would end just like they always ended it in their heads once they broke off the kisses and parted. Robin took a grip around Marian's waist, under her dress and rolled over so that she sat straddling him as he half sat half lay back in the hay. He lifted his knees slightly to make her fall forward and winced when he felt her weight land heavily on all his pride and joy with a very attractive little gasp escaping her mouth. She shifted to sit steadier and he realised that he would have to bite his lip bloody if he were to avoid moaning every time she moved.

Robin's hands were under her dress now, pulling it up over her head only to find out that there were undergarments as well. Women have too much clothes on, he thought with mild irritation over the fact that it would take so much effort to feel her naked skin under his fingers. She was chewing on her lip, the tip of her tongue dipping out every now and then to moisten it, and she had a drowsy, slightly dazed expression in her face. It was driving him crazy.

Robin had coarse fingers, Marian thought. They were scarred and callous, yet they treaded over her body with such gentle, hungry tenderness and it made her skin come alive, tickled and teased it until every sensation was almost unbearable. She gasped as he eased off her undergarments and caressed her breasts with trembling hands. His attention was so focused, he watched her closely at every careful action in order to read her reaction, so she amplified it. Instead of holding back she gave in and his reaction was almost instant, a wide-eyed fascination as he kissed and caressed his way down her body, easing her down beneath him to reach better. He undid her trousers and pulled them down, leaving her completely naked in the hay. Then he moved back a bit to watch her and she let him watch, happy to know that the intoxicated look in his eyes was all hers and no one else's. They were so close to the point of no return they could taste it, and there was such a sense of relief to finally give in to all this raw tension that had built up between them.

Robin licked his lips, moving one hand behind Marian's knee and the other one grazing the skin on her thing almost absentmindedly. "I love you Marian" he said, stating a fact that they both knew by now but still needed to hear out loud. "I love you so much, never forget that."

"I know, I love you too" she smiled, her voice husky and inviting, trembling from anticipation. "Be with me" she added and reached out one hand to pull him down but he simply shook his head.

"Patience Marian" he smiled "All in good time…" He would do this his way, if he lost his mind then so would she. With a playful smirk he started to trail kisses down her thigh, teasing her until she almost screamed out in pure frustration, her body aching for relief. Mine, he thought again, his mind buzzing with desire to put all his passion for her into this moment, to be worthy the love that she had saved for him all those years they were apart.

Marian arched her back where she felt Robin boldly go where no man had even gone before, the sensation on his tongue against her swollen flesh made her squirm and gasp for air, the rough stubble scratching the inside of her thighs, then his fingers where inside her and… Oh God it had never occurred to her to imagine anything like this! Her fantasies always got fuzzy and out of focus when it came to the actual act, forced to fill in so many blanks, but now she screamed…

… She screamed, she actually screamed! Robin could hear her yell out his name, begging, pleading, her hand gripping his still damp hair to make him crawl up to face her. The sensation was almost unbearable, for her because she had never felt so sensitive and electrified and to him because it took all of his effort to regain some vague control over his own impulses, yet he didn't obey her until her back arched up and she gave out a series of loud uncontrollable shrieks and she gripped his hair so tight it almost made him match her cries.

"Marian… Ouch!!! It hurts, it hurts, let go… ouuuu"

She released his head with a twitch, moving her hand up to her mouth "Oh, I'm so sorry Robin… Did I hurt you?" she panted, her body shivering in a tingling, rippling aftermath. She was drowsy from the pleasure, a look of satisfied bliss in her eyes that made Robin's barly restrained craving for her grow once again and he eased himself up to face her.

"It's okay" he said kissing her deeply. He was filled with lust, finally running free as he let go of all chains, and she was eager to show him her gratitude - wishing that she could retaliate in a manner that measured up to what he had put her through.

She eased in a hand between their bodies and moved down to his belt, tugging the belt buckle once again. He groaned as he felt her unlace his pants, moving her hand down under the cloth and… oh lord… He buried his head in her neck and bit down hard enough to leave a mark, clinging to her as a castaway as their naked bodies pressed tightly together. He eased down his pants and boots and recklessly discarded the last of his clothes somewhere on the muddy barn floor. It was very hard to find any support for his arms so instead his body rested heavily on her pushing her down into to the hay. He locked his eyes in hers, restraining the desire he felt because it was more important to do everything right than right away. He wanted it to last, to remember every touch and sensation, and for her to do the same, so he eased his hips into place and leaned his forehead against hers. "Are you ready?" he whispered, and she nodded, scratching his back with her nails in a way that made a pleasant shudder run down his spine.

It was different than she remembered. There were no pain, instead the first soft thrust made her moan and inhale sharply. He rocked slowly first, kissing her almost violently without moving away from her eyes because the naked, craving passion that emanated from her gaze was simply the most arousing thing he had ever experienced and it sent shocks through his body. She moved to meet his thrusts as they got deeper and faster and it struck him that she fast a quick learner in more areas than one. From time to time he stopped for a while to lay still and kiss her, wishing this to last forever even though not even the great Robin Hood would be able to keep it up that long. Then he rolled over onto his back so that she straddled him, allowing her to set the pace as the desire grew in her, and he watched it ripple through her in twitching waves. He said her name again and again as he got closer to his climax, kissing her breasts and neck and flushed face as if he couldn't get enough and he didn't know where to put all this animated energy she released in him. Finally she pushed himself up against her shouting out her name as he reached his peak, and then they fell down together, sinking deep into the straws. Thus cradled by the hay their warm, sweaty bodies lay panting by each other, limbs entwined in a tangled mess. She rested her head on his shoulder with her ear against the beating heart and he stroked her absentmindedly over the back.

"That was…" she said when she regained her breath. She wanted to say that it was glorious, amazing, wonderful, intoxicating, are you ready to go another round any time soon? But her voice failed her, exhausted by the years of tension suddenly released in some short moments. She would have to adjust her fantasies after this, no doubt about that.

"Mm" Robin answered as sleep almost had ripped him away from her. "That was… indeed." Everything he'd wished for and more.

"What about my training now?" she smiled "Do you still think I need it?" She fondled his strong body and he opened one eye to look at her. She was so pretty like this, the rosy cheeks and glittering, content eyes, her lips swollen and red from his kisses and her hair ruffled with straws of hay sticking out like crooked antennas… She had a red spot on her neck where he'd marked her with his lips and he moved his hand to touch it. There were no anger left in her voice, and he thought that this was a very nice way to subdue his lover's rage.

"You're a bit unpolished" he grinned at her "But I'm sure we can make an outlaw of you yet..."

It had been the kind of fight that makes you come back for seconds, yearning for more and more and more. There were straws of hay everywhere; they had sticks for swords and no armour between them.

…Yet they didn't even mind the fact that it had been raining.

Fin