The youth was a strange time. Feelings blossomed and withered; vows made as children shattered like glass against the stark harshness of reality.

When they were children, you couldn't put a leaf between Robin and Guy, so honest, intimate, and bonded in friendship, were they. They spurred each other on, dreamed together of journeys and heroic deeds, did stupid things, and both stood up for them. For years Guy lived with Robin, far from his family in Gisborne, as squire to the Earl of Huntingdon. Then they grew older, their interests changed, and eventually, Guy had to return home. The bond of their friendship was broken thanks to time and distance, and when they met in Palestine years later, during the war in a field hospital, they had become strangers.

And then there was Marian, the young thing he was supposed to marry one day. With her unruly red hair, blue eyes that were far too big, and small nose, she had been an unparalleled nuisance to the young lad. She constantly nagged at him, squealed her pranks at the servants, and tried to attach herself to the two boys whenever possible.

"You need to spend time with her, Robin," his father had said. "A marriage needs trust, and you only build that with togetherness. Believe me; one day, you will look at her the way I look at your mother."

What a gross nonsense.

But time passed, and with each passing year, Marian became more adorable. They began to find common ground they didn't know existed. They loved archery, walks through the nearby forest, and the same stories about faraway lands.

An unfamiliar feeling spread through Robin's chest whenever he looked at her. And as always with lads of that age who didn't want to be aware of their emotions, he tried to hide them behind vicious jibes and crude jokes. Until the event when he stole her hair ribbon and hurt her. The hair ribbon he had adorned one of his bracers ever since.

For fear of ever hurting her again, Robin avoided Marian from that day on. But instead of his feelings for her dwindling as a result, they grew a little more with every look they gave each other, with every smile.

When he was in the distance, between whirring arrows and the sound of cracking bones as the vultures came in the night to feast on the fallen, Robin had only one name and one face he longed to return to: Marian.

He wanted to tell her many things, apologize a hundred times, and make many things better when he returned. He wanted to confess that it had never bothered him if she didn't ride sidesaddle or if he liked it when she wrinkled her cheeky, snub nose. That he didn't mind that she shot better with a bow.

Robin himself didn't know what to do with the feelings that raged inside him. When he left Marian, she was just becoming a woman. Too young for him to speak of love. Still, it was more than friendship. But wouldn't that have been enough? Many marriages were made with less affection. He would have treated her well, provided she had given him a chance. But it did not come to that.

Yes. Guy and he had been friends. More than that, they were like brothers. There was a saying that 'a brother's blade cuts deepest'.

When Robin returned from the war with good intentions, hope, and resolutions, he found his life in ruins. His father had died while he was away. Robin was presumed dead. In the absence of a legitimate heir and countless missing tax payments, all his possessions had been seized by the Sheriff of Nottingham in the name of the Crown.

Guy, as well as his father, were now serving a damned usurper and tyrant. Robin demanded his right and inheritance back - unsuccessfully. The estate had fallen into disrepair by now, and Prince John that bastard, offered him a paltry scrap of his former inheritance as if he were the greatest patron. But not only that: meanwhile, in Robin's place, Guy of Gisborne was engaged to Marian.

To his Marian. Never had his heart bled so much.

When he saw her again, Marian thought he had forgotten and did not recognize her. How could he NOT have recognized her? The stubborn girl with a comparable fire in her eyes. Other than Marian, what woman would break into the tax house as a thief and take the money out of the corrupt chamberlain's pocket? What woman but she would put on trousers and get herself into such trouble?

'Oh, Marian. You don't know how special you are,' Robin thought.

How was she to know that he bitterly regretted his behavior of yesteryear and had not put up with his shortcomings? That he felt worthy of nothing and no one, imprisoned and crushed? How was she to know that he had found it charming the way the cheeky girl grinned when she beat the two cheeky lads at archery? Or that he liked the way she laughed? How could she know he had thought only of her all those years away and protected her letters like the most incredible treasure?

"Why didn't you wait for me?" whispered Robin, gazing into the blue eyes in which he wished for nothing more than the same affection that beat beneath the shell of rogue and overweening mischief for her too in his broad chest.

"What?" On the other hand, Marian's gaze became caught in the pine green of Robin's eyes, which suddenly seemed softer and deeper than ever before.

Robin opened his mouth because he wanted to repeat his question, 'Why didn't you wait for me?' But he closed it again without asking it. Everything was different now than before. He was now a rebel, fighting for lords who wanted to overthrow the king. He was an outlaw and a hunted man. As much as he was repulsed by the thought of abandoning Marian to a lickspittle loyal to the king like Guy, HE could not offer her any other option.

What was he to say? 'Choose me. Live with me in the forest, and together let us steal from the rich and give to the poor'?

Robin almost laughed bitterly at this thought. What woman in Marian's position and situation would do that? Who would choose Robin Hood instead of the honorable son of the sheriff or trade a warm castle for a draughty hut?

He shook his head at himself inwardly, then actually did it and took a step towards Marian. Perhaps if Robin had been more attentive, he would have noticed that Marian had heard him very well. She looked at him, her gaze clinging to the thief like a magnet and with a hint of blush on her cheeks that betrayed her restlessly beating heart.

The maiden and the thief. What kind of story would that be? They were no longer children, and fairy tales had long since lost their magic. Instead, the thief reached out slowly to take her fingers in his in a confidential gesture. He didn't want anything more from her. Just that. A little closeness where he could otherwise only watch her from a distance.

"What we're doing is very dangerous, Marian."

She looked stricken. Her clothes were dirty, and in their raid today, she had been in far more danger than he had wanted to allow.

"It is becoming increasingly risky. The raid showed how unpredictable the soldiers are and how fallible even the best-laid plans are," he said thoughtfully. Robin ran his thumb over the delicate back of his hand under the soft leather gloves. "Marian, you can get out before anything happens to you or anyone finds out you had anything to do with it." How could he forgive himself if something happened to her?

On the other hand, Marian had no intention of reversing her decision or even regretting it. "I didn't come along to this ambush for your sake, Robin," she said earnestly, not trying to remove her hand from his touch, even though she knew full well that a more virtuous lady would have done so. After all, this man was not her fiancé. But such an honorable lady would not be in this place either - or would have tried to rob the tax coach.

"I can make my own decisions. And I have been in the chamber of the chamberlain before you, if I may remind you." At that, Marian raised both one of her arched eyebrows and the corners of her mouth a little.

"Alone, you and I were nothing but two petty thieves," she reminded him, and this time it was Marian who reached out her left hand and let the tips of her fingers glide gently over the shadow of his bearded cheek. Had the immature lad of old grown up a little after all? Robin of Locksley cared about her? No one would believe her if she told them.

"If we can get people to listen to us and let you help them. Then we can make a bigger difference than robbing a few coins. I certainly won't let this opportunity pass." Marian sought his gaze so that he would realize how serious she was. "Now, let's stop wasting time. I want to distribute the money in Edwinstowe before dark. I should return to the castle before dark."