Chapter Text
Growing up, Marion of Leaford had always wondered who the mysterious ‘Robin Hood’ was.
Meeting your soulmate was a very rare affair, even for nobility, and while she occasionally indulged herself in fantasies, Marion did her best not to get her hopes up.
Still, she had it better than most. Her father had made it clear that he’d give her every opportunity to encounter her soulmate. Many nobles frowned upon this, but he never wavered in his decision, wanting to give his daughter the greatest likelihood of happiness possible.
That prospect had dampened when he’d died and Marion was moved into the Sheriff’s care.
Robert de Rainault, the greedy cynic that he was, took the view that soulmates were a load of rubbish and made it clear that Marion’s options were to become a nun or be married off to the highest bidder.
She chose the former, but when rumours of the hooded man began to circulate throughout Nottingham she listened in, just in case.
It was probably a coincidence, and nothing to do with her Robin Hood, but Marion couldn’t help the way her ears pricked up whenever the hooded outlaw was mentioned.
She wanted to meet him, of course, but she’d never expected him to break into her bedroom of all places.
He offered her a smile before making his grand escape, and Marion knew this was the man she wanted to be her Robin Hood.
It wasn’t long after that first encounter that she married him and settled into life in Sherwood Forest with her new husband and the Merry Men. Robbing the rich by day, giving to the poor by night. It wasn’t where she thought she’d end up, granted, but she loved this little family she’d chosen and vowed to cherish each of them dearly.
There was something that bothered her, though. Not enough to disrupt all she’d built, but it niggled at her, almost daring her to pull on its thread.
One of the first things she’d noticed about Robin was that he covered up his soulmark. It wasn’t an unusual choice, many people did it, but that little piece of fabric wound around the back of his left hand bothered her much more than it should.
To be honest, Marion had thought once they’d wed, he would no longer see the need to wear it. She’d hoped he’d let her look beneath it and see her own name etched into his skin, but it soon became clear the cover-up wasn’t going anywhere and the fact they were married now didn’t make the slightest bit of difference.
Marion wasn’t the only one who’d noticed it, though.
It hadn’t been long since they’d all started living together in Sherwood Forest when Will brought it up. (Marion admired Will’s indifference when it came to addressing sensitive topics.)
“Oi, Robin,” Will called out to him, a week or so after the wedding. “What d’you still wear that cover-up for?”
If Marion hadn’t been watching Robin for his reaction, she would have missed his momentary freeze, but he slipped into his usual grin so quickly she thought she’d imagined it. “Perhaps I don’t want the Sheriff to see it.”
“Well, he’ll have already seen Marion’s, won’t he?”
“Alright then, perhaps I don’t want Gisburne to see it.” He couldn’t quite hide the amusement forming in his eyes, like he’d just told a joke only he would understand.
“He’s seen it too,” Marion said quietly.
Will raised an eyebrow. It was the same face he made when he beat John in a fight or caught one of the Sheriff’s men, except this time it was directed at Robin.
The Merries seemed to hold their breath alongside Marion, and it was then she realised they’d all wondered about it too.
“Oh, just tell him,” John pitched in. “He won’t leave it until you do.”
“Alright, alright.” Robin paused, expression darkening. “I don’t believe in soulmates.”
“What?”
It was like a gut punch to Marion, but she took it without saying anything.
“Let me see if I’ve got this right.” Will leant forwards, mouth upturned in a slight sneer. “You’re telling me you believe all this Herne the Hunter crap, but you don’t believe in soulmates? When yours is sitting in front of you? ”
“Just leave it alone, Will,” Robin snapped, and the others recoiled at the uncharacteristic anger. He picked up his bow and stalked away from the campfire, leaving the group to stew in silence.
“Well done,” John muttered, earning himself a shove from Will.
“Herne might have told him something we don’t know about,” Friar Tuck suggested. “That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love Marion.”
“Well, your mark definitely says ‘Robin Hood’, doesn’t it?” With her permission, Will took Marion’s hand and examined it. “Looks real to me.”
“Is there...” Marion swallowed. “Is there such a thing as one-sided soulmates?”
“No,” Tuck said firmly.
Marion nodded slowly, and John gave her arm a reassuring pat.
“He was always like this, though,” Much mused, ignorant to the sudden attention he’d drawn from the others. “I never saw his soulmate mark, not even when we were younger. I reckon his dad was the one who told him to cover it.”
“But why?” Will pressed impatiently. “It doesn’t make any bloody sense.”
“Why does anyone cover theirs?” John shrugged.
“Tradition,” Nasir supplied, startling Marion. As the only other member of the group who concealed his soulmark at all times, she supposed he had authority on the subject.
“He never even let my parents see it,” Much added. “Not once.”
“That’s some tradition,” Will said sarcastically. A pause. “Sorry, Nas.”
When Robin returned to their camp later that evening, he was oddly contemplative.
He briefly spoke to Will before approaching Marion, smiling softly at her in the light of the campfire.
“Marion,” he began, sitting gracefully next to her. “I want to apologise for my behaviour earlier. I am aware that I owe you an explanation.”
She shook her head, reaching out to touch his cheek. “There’s nothing to apologise for, Robin.”
“You don’t dispute the fact that I have something to explain,” he noted. “Good. I understand how difficult it must have been for you to hear me say I did not believe in soulmates earlier.”
She averted his gaze. “I will not lie and say it wasn’t.”
“Good,” he repeated, almost to himself. “You must know that when I was younger, my father... I made a promise to him that I would always keep mine covered, you see, and I feel it would be dishonouring his memory to stop. I wish I could make sense of it, but I cannot bring myself to go against his word.”
“Oh, Robin,” Marion whispered. She could tell he was still concealing part of the story from her, but there was truth enough in his explanation that she felt guilty for ever doubting his motives.
“Do you forgive me, Marion?”
She pulled him into an embrace. “There’s nothing to forgive, my love. Nothing at all.”
After that, she’d done her best to put it from her mind.
They shared a happy marriage, and Marion thought that if never seeing his soulmark was the price she had to pay for their bond, she could tolerate it.
He didn’t bring up the matter again until all of a sudden, she was losing him.
It had happened so quickly.
The Sheriff’s men caught the others, and now only Robin and Much were by Marion’s side as she ran up the hill to escape.
She dreaded to think what Gisburne was doing to the rest of her family, but from one look at Robin’s face, Marion knew they were hardly better off.
Then her husband had straightened, smiling at her and Much, and for a split second she thought they were going to be alright.
His plans had never failed them before.
Suddenly, in a horrible turn of events, Robin was passing her Albion and telling her to take Much and flee down the other side of the hill before it was cut off.
“The Sheriff isn’t going to stop until he catches me,” Robin reasoned, pressing the hilt of the sword into Marion’s hands. “You must go.”
“No,” she protested, the word passing through her lips before she was even fully aware of it. “I won’t leave you, Robin. I love you.”
“Please, Marion,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, his eyes desperately searching hers. “You must. This is how it was always meant to be.”
“They’re here!” Much called out, pointing down below. “The Sheriff’s men have found us.”
“No.” Marion’s fingers trembled as she tried to reject Albion, but Robin gently shook his head at her.
“There’s so much I wanted to say to you, but I’ve run out of time to say it,” he began, and she inhaled sharply. “Remember that I loved you, won’t you? And that I chose you to be my wife. I alone made that decision. It wasn’t fate or Herne’s will— it was me. I chose to love you, and I’m ever so glad I did.”
“And I chose you,” she breathed, clutching the sword to her chest. Something about the way her heart was pounding and the way Robin was looking at her now told her this was it.
He turned to Much then. “I need you to head down the back of this hill and take Marion with you. I’ll be right behind you.”
Much frowned, eyes darting between Robin’s resolute expression and Marion’s tearstained cheeks. “You promise?”
He chuckled, and Marion listened as the last words her husband ever said were a lie.
“I promise.”
She followed Much down the muddy grass, choking on a sob as they heard the distinct sound of a wooden bow being broken in half.
Her soulmate was gone.
Everyone else was safe, somehow, but the group scattered without their leader to hold them together, and the next thing Marion knew, she was back under her father’s roof.
It felt wrong to be in her childhood bedroom again after everything she’d been through, but it was also comforting somehow to see how far she’d come.
Her father was understanding, but even his kindness had limits.
Slowly, she forced herself to rejoin society and with every day that passed, she began to hurt a little less.
Marion had agreed to journey to the Huntingdons’ gathering by her father’s side tomorrow, and she had to remind herself that this was her life now. There was no way back to Sherwood Forest, and she’d better get used to that.
—
When Robert of Huntingdon heard that Marion of Leaford would be present at the celebration his father was hosting, he could hardly believe his luck.
Marion and her father were coming to visit, and according to his own father, Marion was both not married and not a nun, despite popular gossip.
To be honest, Robert had no idea how much of the information he knew about her was rumour and miscommunication, but he couldn’t wait to find out.
He eagerly considered the possibility that she’d connected the words on her knuckles with the name of the family she was about to visit and come to the same conclusion that he had.
His father sent him out to greet some of their guests, and Robert was forced to focus his attention on playing the dutiful host rather than daydreaming like a young boy who’d finally grasped the concept of soulmates.
“Huntingdon’s sent his son. How lovely,” the Sheriff of Nottingham commented to his companions as Robert introduced himself, pulling his lips back into what looked like an incredibly uncomfortable attempt at a gracious smile.
Robert offered a cautious grin in response, and he was met with a deep scowl from the Sheriff’s right-hand man, Sir Guy of Gisburne, and an equally creepy smile from the Sheriff’s brother, the Abbott Hugo.
Something about this trio unsettled Robert, but he tried not to dwell on it too much as he guided them through the castle gates and politely pretended to ignore the insensitive comments the Sheriff and the Abbott made at Gisburne’s expense.
He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d been sent to greet them of all people.
Not that Robert meant to disrespect them by insinuating they weren’t worthy of his greeting, but he’d presumed he’d be assisting the guest of honour.
It didn’t help that after temporarily filling the position of Robin Hood, he felt nervous about somehow being discovered by Gisburne and the Sheriff.
Once they’d arrived, he hastily handed them on to some staff and hoped to get inside before Marion’s arrival so that he could see her when she walked through the doors.
Unfortunately, things didn’t quite pan out that way.
Marion was without a doubt the most stunning woman he’d ever laid eyes upon, but he wasn’t the only one who thought so.
Owen of Clun, the sleazy guest of honour who the King had put Robert’s father in charge of sucking up to, immediately picked Marion to dance with, making several loud comments and insinuations to his lackeys throughout.
It made Robert inexplicably angry when he saw the look of pure panic on her face.
Owen of Clun wouldn’t let her go, gripping her shoulders and leering at her.
He watched as his father averted his gaze, pretending like he didn’t see it.
Robert couldn’t just stand by and watch.
He knew Marion wasn’t some damsel who needed to be saved, but he couldn’t stop himself. And anyway, Robert didn’t consider herself his saviour. He was more like her backup.
Robert would like to say he didn’t consider the repercussions of his actions before he challenged Owen, but that wouldn’t have been true.
He made a conscious decision to intervene, knowing how much trouble it would create for his father.
Marion was worth it.
She offered him an abashed yet mischievous grin after Owen stormed out of the room, and Robert couldn’t help but smile back.
His father then proceeded to hit the roof, and he didn’t see Marion again until much later, after he’d rescued her from being forced to become Owen’s bride.
By then, he had accepted Herne’s summons, claimed the title of Robin Hood and gathered the Merry Men to help him.
After everything he’d been through, the last thing he’d expected was Marion not knowing they were soulmates.
“You didn’t have to save me,” Marion said. “But I’m very glad you did.”
“Of course I did. You’re my soulmate.”
It had been one of those earth-shattering moments where everyone went silent and stared in horror.
Robert (he supposed he was Robin now) didn’t understand what he’d done, and Marion was just standing there, gaping like a fish and acting like the whole world had crumbled beneath her.
“No,” she breathed, putting her hand to her chest. “No.”
Friar Tuck was the first one there to reassure her, but she pushed him away.
“Show me your hand,” Marion commanded, voice trembling. “Please.”
He held it out, and she took it.
Her palm was shaking, and she dropped his hand like it pricked her.
“He lied to me,” Marion gasped. Her shoulders shuddered and she began to sob slowly. “He lied.”
This time, when Tuck reached out, she dissolved into his arms, weeping.
Robin didn’t know what to say or do.
Much looked just as heartbroken as Marion, Will looked angrier than he had when they’d fought at the tavern, John looked like he’d seen a ghost and Nasir bowed his head.
“I’m sorry,” Robin tried, but he knew no apology could undo whatever he’d just done.
“It’s not your fault, lad,” John said quietly. “You weren’t to know.”
On the way back to Sherwood Forest, John explained to him why Marion had reacted like that, and Robin’s heart broke for her. The pain must have been unimaginable.
—
The journey back was quiet, the joy of getting Marion back diminished by the revelation Robin had accidentally dropped on them.
“I don’t get it,” Much whispered. “Why would he lie?”
Marion’s head was spinning. She knew, in her soul, that Robin wasn’t to blame, but she couldn’t bring herself to blame her dead husband either.
He must have had a reason. He must have.
She was so glad to be back with her family again, but the pain that her life with her husband had been based on a lie was crushing.
When they arrived back in Sherwood, the familiarity of the forest felt so bittersweet, but Marion couldn’t deny this forest was where she belonged. It was her home, and these were her people.
Almost immediately, John and Nasir moved to collect some firewood and Much and Tuck began to set up camp.
Robin suggested that he and Will should go hunting, and Will jumped on the opportunity.
It hurt to see how much they’d all missed this.
She’d missed it, too, in truth.
It was clear from the way Robin looked at her that at the very least he lusted after her, but since she’d broken down over his soulmark he’d kept his distance.
Marion knew it was unfair that he should face the consequences of actions that were not his, but she just couldn’t think of him in that way.
She desperately wanted to return to this life, but she didn’t want to make him suffer.
When he returned with Will, she called out to him.
“Robin, may I talk to you?”
The others exchanged glances of surprise, and Robin nodded, following Marion through the trees to a more secluded location.
“Marion—”
“If you’ll allow me to speak first,” she cut him off, holding her hand up to show she meant nothing by it. “I am terribly sorry for my reaction. It was unfair to you, Robin. I apologise.”
He widened his eyes, immediately shaking his head. “I’m the one who should apologise! I had no idea, Marion, I swear. I would never have said it like that if—”
“I know,” she reassured him.
“I’m not asking you to—” He swallowed, and Marion could see how difficult this was for him. “I know I cannot hope to replace him. I want this Robin Hood thing to work out. If-if you stay, I promise I’ll simply be your friend. Nothing more.”
Marion exhaled, and a weight lifted from her chest. She felt awful that Robin had to suggest such a thing, but a part of her was glad he understood. She wanted this to work out too, but she couldn’t do it as his soulmate. “Thank you.”
—
Robin hated himself for still thinking about Marion in that way.
As the weeks passed, and they got swept up in dealing with the Sheriff and dodging Gulnar’s threats, the group fell into a familiar pattern, and for the most part they forgot all about Robin and Marion being soulmates.
Robin himself was trying very hard to forget it too, but it was almost impossible to do so.
He felt like he’d stolen Robin of Loxley’s life, for one, and that no matter what he did he wouldn’t measure up.
The Merry Men were his best friends, and he knew they needed him, but sometimes Robin just felt like an imposter.
Having such romantic feelings for Marion made him feel worse, because he knew he would never be in her heart the same way her husband had been.
Nasir was the only one who seemed to notice Robin’s fears.
He didn’t speak much, but when he did, the comfort he offered to Robin kept him going.
Even though he had doubts and anxieties, they weren’t to say Robin didn’t enjoy this lifestyle because he did.
It was so dissimilar to his life before and he felt such a sense of freedom living in the woods with these people.
The playfighting with quarterstaffs that John almost always won, the celebrations when they evaded another plot to kill them, the laughing at the Sheriff’s incompetency...
Robin loved it all, almost as much as he loved them.
Marion was a wonderful friend, too, but every time she laughed at his jokes or fought beside him, he couldn’t help wishing they were more.
It was thoughts like that that took him on solo treks like this through the forest, trying to rid himself of these poisonous doubts.
Robin’s fist closed around the bow he carried with him. The urge to use the weapon as a means of escapism was present, but the last thing he wanted to do was draw another comparison between himself and the first Robin, so instead he wandered aimlessly through the trees with no clear destination in mind.
He wanted Marion’s love so badly it hurt, but he wouldn’t force her hand. Not after everything she’d been through already.
The situation was set up so that Robin could easily lose himself in trying to be like Marion’s dead husband, but he wouldn’t do that either. If she was ever going to love him, it would be for his own merits.
It was hard not to constantly think of Robin of Loxley, though. Here he was, in Robin of Loxley’s forest, with Robin of Loxley’s family and Robin of Loxley’s fate, all relabelled as his now. He would never meet the other man, but he felt impossibly close to him because he thought that maybe Robin of Loxley would understand him.
Robin looked down at the bow in his hands, torn by indecision.
Screw it. He’d hunt.
If he wanted the others to stop comparing him to their original leader, he had to stop doing it himself.
—
Robin seemed to have grown in confidence since he’d first begun to lead the Merry Men, and Marion couldn’t help but admire him for it.
Their relationship must have been difficult for him because they were so close and so connected but devoid of romance, but Robin didn’t let it show.
More than once, Marion had caught herself blushing under Robin’s stare, but she tried not to read into it too much.
Will gave her a look every time it happened, but he hadn’t brought it up yet.
Still, that wouldn’t last for long.
Marion had been transparent with Robin from the beginning, and he’d backed off instantly.
Of course he had. That’s just who he was.
She’d never been willing to consider that her own feelings for Robin had changed, until they’d been cornered by Gisburne’s men, and the others were taking a little longer than they should have to come and help.
There was a moment where she began to doubt they’d make it out alive, and panic blossomed within her.
She scrambled back, her fingers brushing against Robin’s.
The feeling was thrilling, and without a second thought, she gripped onto his hand.
The warmth of his palm in hers grounded her, and her fear quietened.
The others began to shoot at Gisburne and his men, and it took until the group was alone in the clearing for Marion to realise she was still holding Robin’s hand.
Will raised an eyebrow, and she dropped Robin’s hand suddenly.
“Well, that was fun,” Will grinned, stalking past them and giving Robin a pat on the back. “Why don’t we go get some venison to celebrate?”
Robin agreed, and John joined them.
Much trailed after them, and Marion was left to go back to their camp with Tuck and Nasir.
“Are you alright, little flower?” Tuck asked softly.
“Yes,” she said too quickly, her heart pounding and making it hard to think straight. “No. I’m not sure.”
She hadn’t thought she’d needed Robin like that, but when she’d reached for him, it was like an instinct she couldn’t fight.
It had brought down the wall of denial she’d built between herself and her growing feelings, and the tidal wave it caused was too much for her to deal with.
“That’s alright,” Tuck replied. “Isn’t it, Nas?”
“He loves you, Marion,” Nasir said, looking into the distance. His honesty made her flinch. “He will never act on it while he thinks you do not want him.”
She inhaled sharply, not sure if his words made it better or worse.
Did she truly like Robin? Did he truly love her?
Marion felt a pull to him that was hard to resist now that she’d acknowledged it, but she needed to be sure she liked Robin for who he was, not just because being with him was easier.
Before she could contemplate any more, Much was running towards them at full speed, crying out, “They’ve got him! They’ve got him!”
“What?” Marion asked numbly as Much drew to a sudden stop.
He laughed cheerily, his cheeks pink from sprinting to them. “I don’t know how they’ve done it, but we saw Gisburne coming back through the woods on his own and they caught him! They caught Gisburne!”
Marion exchanged an alarmed look with Tuck, and they followed Much through the woods without complaint.
When they got there, Gisburne was struggling against John and Robin, spitting out various threats and insults.
“My God,” Marion breathed, putting a hand to her chest. Much was right. They really had captured Gisburne.
Will was taunting him, reaching forward and taking Gisburne’s sword and his dagger from his belt so that he had no chance of gaining the upper hand.
As he did so, Will’s hand connected with Gisburne’s glove and Gisburne let out a rushed “Don’t!” before he realised Will wasn’t going to remove it.
Will stilled, cocking his head at Gisburne. “Struck a nerve, did I?”
Gisburne’s face was white as a sheet, and Marion knew it was because his soulmark was beneath that glove.
Gisburne fought harder against John and Robin, but with Nasir now holding out his blades too, he had nowhere to go even if he did manage to escape.
“Let’s see what’s under here, shall we?” Will seemed to take great pleasure in pulling the glove from Gisburne’s hand, and Gisburne screamed like he’d been struck.
“Fuck,” Will said plainly, stepping out of the way so the others could see what it said.
Robin Hood.
Fuck indeed.
The Merry Men had been grinning and laughing, but now they went quiet.
One look at each of their expressions told Marion that they’d had no idea.
Selfishly, she was glad she wasn’t the only one who’d been kept in the dark.
“You.” She said the word like an accusation, and Gisburne met her stare.
“He didn’t tell you?”
“He knew?” Much checked, face stricken.
“Of course he knew,” Gisburne hissed angrily.
“You maggot!” Will shouted, lifting his fists to hit Gisburne. “You filthy—”
“Let him go.” Marion interrupted.
Will’s mouth dropped open, but to his credit, he paused. “But Marion—”
“I can’t look at him anymore. Let him go.”
“Do as she says,” Robin insisted, and Nasir was the first to obey by putting his swords away.
The others followed suit, watching as Gisburne scrambled away.
“Coward,” John said, but luckily Gisburne had grown too far away to hear him.
Marion breathed shakily, feeling the betrayal hit her all over again.
Her husband had been soulbound to Gisburne? Gisburne, the man who had dedicated his life to hunting them.
Her legs gave out, and she couldn’t stop herself from sobbing.
Robin rushed to support her, and she cried into his arms.
“R-robin, he—”
She let Robin soothe her, melting into him and crying onto his shoulder.
They set up camp there, and Robin just held her by the fire.
She didn’t remember falling unconscious, but she must have, because she woke to the sound of voices talking softly.
“Do you think she’ll be alright?” Much’s concern present in his tone of voice.
“She’s strong,” Robin responded.
Marion opened her eyes, slowly sitting up and realising she’d slept with her head on Robin’s torso. She flushed, trying to avoid making eye contact with him.
“Good morning,” he whispered. “I have an idea.”
She turned to face him then, her curiosity winning out over her embarrassment.
Robin fought a smile. “Come on.”
It didn’t take them long to arrive, and Marion blinked as she remembered this to be Herne’s clearing.
“I thought you might want to ask him some questions,” Robin explained sheepishly, and Marion’s heart warmed at the gesture.
“Thank you.”
He nodded, beginning to retreat, but she reached out and pulled him back.
“Stay with me. Please.”
Robin’s face brightened, and he moved closer to her again.
“Robin, I see you have brought the Lady Marion with you,” Herne spoke, appearing in front of them.
“Yes. I thought you might be able to provide her with some insight on what has happened.”
Herne tilted his antlers as he put the pieces together. “You mean to say she has learnt the truth of your predecessor’s soulmark?”
“Yes,” Marion said, looking up at the god. “Why… why didn’t he tell me? Did he think I would hate him?”
“I do not believe so, no. He came to me and asked me for advice when he first learnt of your soulmark. He told me of his love for you, but felt it wrong to deceive you,” Herne explained. “It was I who told him to conceal it from you, as it was the only way to ensure you had a chance with your own soulmate.”
He indicated to Robin.
“Oh,” Marion murmured. Her husband hadn’t meant to hide it from her. He had loved her. The knowledge that she had been wrong to doubt him made her inexplicably relieved.
“May I offer you the same advice I did to him, all that time ago?”
She nodded.
“You must not feel shame in loving either of them.”
With that, he disappeared into the forest.
You must not feel shame in loving either of them.
Marion turned to Robin, her heart thudding.
“You don’t have to act on it now. Think on it,” Robin offered, as if he could read her mind. “I don’t mind.”
She leaned up towards him, kissing his cheek. “I will think on it. I promise.”
—
Weeks had passed since they visited Herne, and Robin wasn’t sure if Marion would ever revisit it what the god had said.
He could only blame himself: he had told her to think on it, after all.
Marion had told the others what Herne had said about why Robin of Loxley had lied, and it eased their minds significantly.
Somehow, knowing the truth didn’t change their perception of him. It merely allowed them to move on.
For the first time since he’d accepted the title, Robin felt like he was finally becoming his own person in his own eyes as well as the Merries’.
The feeling was freeing, and the best part was that there was no longer a bitter undertone when Will made jokes about how Robin was from noble blood. (Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best part, but it certainly improved Robin’s quality of life.)
Then, later that day, Marion put her hand on his and asked if he’d like to take a walk with her.
He said yes, of course, but adrenaline began to pump through his body because he recognised that this was the moment that would change everything for better or for worse.
“I’ve been thinking,” she started.
“Good,” Robin said as nonchalantly as he could manage.
“I wanted to be sure,” Marion continued, turning to look at him. “I wanted to be sure that I loved you for who you were, not because of our soulbond or that it would make things easier, or…”
She trailed off, biting her lip.
“And?” He prompted, careful not to sound too impatient.
“I do. Love you, that is.” She inhaled, preparing herself. “I love you, Robin. And I was wondering if you loved me.”
He couldn’t stop his face from splitting into a grin. “Of course I do, Marion. I love you with all my heart.”
“You do?”
He reached for her hands. “I do.”
Marion giggled, her cheeks going pink.
“I’d like to kiss you, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all.”
He leant forward, holding her cheek with his palm and kissing her gently.
She responded in kind, kissing him back with all the passion and longing she had been harbouring these past few weeks.
Robin slid his hand down to cup her breast, and Marion gasped, reacting by digging her fingers into his hair and the base of his neck.
He wasn’t quite sure where she ended and he began, and there was something so exhilarating about finally touching her like this.
When they returned to the camp, the others teased them, but their joy was infectious and the group was soon congratulating them.
“Finally,” John commented.
“Finally what?” Much asked, oblivious as ever.
Will rolled his eyes. “Look at them, Much.”
“You mean—?”
“Yes!” John and Tuck said at the same time.
“When’s the wedding?” Will called out cheekily.
“As soon as possible,” Robin replied, laughing as John shoved Will for asking.
“As soon as possible?” Friar Tuck cried, standing up suddenly. “I haven’t read the banns yet!”
“Then read them now!” Marion grinned at him.
He exclaimed indignantly but began to do so, calling them out for any passers-by to hear.
—
In the end, they got married in Wickham, the village being more than willing to celebrate with them after everything the Robin Hood and Merry Men had done for them.
Marion wasn’t sure if either the news of their wedding hadn’t reached Gisburne or he was finally showing some kindness and leaving them alone, but she was glad they weren’t interrupted.
Friar Tuck married them, which felt fitting given everything Marion had been through with him.
(When she’d asked if he would marry them, he’d widened his eyes and said “Who else would?”)
The dress she wore was a simple but beautiful thing that Nasir and Will had obtained for her from goodness knows where (she thought it better not to ask).
John had brought Meg to the wedding, and she kindly helped Marion get ready by weaving flowers into her hair and chattering excitedly with her before the ceremony.
“You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen,” Meg had proclaimed once Marion was ready.
Much had collected some flowers for a bouquet, but John instructed her not to throw it because God forbid Meg caught it and got any ideas about John marrying her.
When she’d finally made her way down the path to get married, all she saw was Robin.
He might not be her first husband, but she truly did love him more than life itself.
Marion had never dreamed she’d end up marrying Robin when she’d learnt the truth about who her soulmate was, but she was endlessly glad she proved her imaginings wrong.
“You look beautiful,” Robin whispered when she reached him, taking her hands into his. “I love you.”
“And I love you.”
His eyes lit up, and he grinned. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”