Title: Into the Hands of Darkness

Author: Leiasky

Rating: R

Pairing: Robin/Marion

Archive: If you choose. Please tell me first.

Summary: At a festival ushering in the summer, the village is invaded, captors taken, and Robin injured.

Disclaimer: :The characters are copyright HTV and John Carpenter. Used herein without permission and solely for fun..

Credits: Clannad, for the song lyrics used in Chapter 2. From their album 'Anam' song title 'The Poison Glen'.

Chapter 1

Oh, do not tell the Priest our plight,
Or he would call it a sin;
But we have been out in the woods all night,
A-conjuring Summer in!

By Kipling

Firelight flickered across the pale faces, around the dancing children and laughing adults, casting eerie shadows against the large birch and fir. It was the eve of Cetsamhain (Beltane) , the night every year where the people of the land celebrated the fertility of all things.

Tonight, the followers of Herne the Hunter gathered in his sacred place to celebrate the yearly holiday. Once Herne had concluded his blessings and the people were finished with their offerings to the Horned God of the forest, the celebration of life and fertility would continue through the night.

Revelers danced round small bonfires and children ran rampant with small hand-carved toys, darting between, under and around their parents. Couples cuddled in the moonlight, sneaking a kiss here and a knowing look there, when they thought no one was watching. Games were played, by young and old alike.

A large water satchel had been filled with earth and hung from a large tree, giving the archers a target at which to aim. At Marion's insistence, Robin participated, easily winning over those less experienced.

Children rode make-shift hobby horses around the archers, the crowd and over those already unconscious from an overabundance of ale.

Nasir, the most proficient in the festival with a blade, performed an ancient dance, silver glinting in the darkness as it swirled and twirled dangerously close to his body. The crowd cheered, gasped and laughed when the Serecin deliberately chopped at a thrown piece of fruit dangerously close to Tuck's head. In his drunkeness, the friar fell backwards over a tree stump and remained there, dumfounded, eyes wide as the full moon glimmering above.

Music and laughter abounded, villagers took turns with the flute, the drum, anything that would make music.

Robin's band had found themselves comfort and solace in a woman's embrace and this brought a smile to the young leader's handsome features. Marion leaned her back into her beloved's chest and he smiled down at her, wrapping long arms around her shoulders.

"It's good to see."

"What is?" Marion asked, slipping her hands into Robin's where they crossed in front of her breasts.

"To see them happy. Content." The firelight danced in his eyes and Marion shifted her head to look at him.

"Yes, Will is quite content to have a woman in every village." Marion grinned as Robin cast a disbelieving look at his wife.

Flutes and whistles, drums and cheers drown out their voices and they simply settled comfortably into one another's arms to watch the continuing festivities. Several children bounced before them, hair mussed from the wind, and beckoned to Marion.

She shook her head politely until one of the young girls slipped her hand into the young woman's, tugging her toward the bonfire.

"Go," Robin whispered into her ear, his breath warm against the cool skin of her neck. "I'll be here when you return." He grinned, helping her along with a push to the backside. He grinned at her horrified look and leaned back into the tree, crossing his arms.

Marion's reluctance was forgotten when children flocked around her, grasping her arms, cheering and dancing around her. She took their hands and circled the fire with them, her abundant curls bouncing down her back as she copied their steps.

Robin watched them silently, a smile seemingly etched permanently into his pale features.

"Herne made a good choice. Your are suited for one another." Tuck crawled the short distance to where Robin was seated, blurred gaze shifting from Marian and the children to Robin and his lingering stare. He took a slow sip from his goblet and shook his head at Robin.

"Hmm?" Robin shook his head, for the first time noticing that Tuck had been sitting there speaking to him. "I'm sorry, Tuck. What was that?"

Tuck laughed heartily. "Go to her Robin. You're no good conversationalist with that pining look on your face."

"I am not pining." Robin shook his head and huffed, casting another look in the general direction of his wife's bouncing hair. "I'm just….."

Her skirts floated on the soft breeze as she danced.

"I'm just…."

Her laughter echoed in his ears, soft and sweet.

"I'm…"

Her eyes shimmered brightly in the darkness, twinkling like the stars overhead.

"I…"

"You, Robin of Sherwood, are stuttering." Tuck cuffed the young man along the backside of his neck, knocking him out of his delirium. "Will you stop staring and just go dance with her? Save us all an evening of half-heard phrases!”

Just then, she turned and smiled at him, eyes travelling the length of his seated body. Curls, knocked loose by the wind, kissed her cheeks, the heavy mass closest to her neck matted with perspiration from the dance. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

His heart thudded against his ribcage. His pulse quickened. He paid no attention to the smiling Much as he plopped down next to Tuck, breathless from the end of the dance.

Much twisted to watch Robin, not quite understanding the glazed look in the older man's eyes.

"Oh no!" Much started, anxiously reaching for his step-brother. "He's not been bewitched again, has he?!"

Tuck intercepted the young man's hand before it could reach Robin, and laughed. "Yes and no, dear boy!"

Much blinked, shaking away the frightening thoughts threatening to take control of his fragile mind. "But, then, what, why…?"

"He's been bewitched by love, my boy!" Tuck laughed and took a long, hearty swig out of his mug.

"Oh." Much said slowly, lowering his head.

"Worry not. No harm shall come to Robin tonight!" Tuck ruffled Much's hair, reassuring the young man enough to earn a wide smile.

Chapter 2

A fair-haired woman stepped into the center of the glen and the crowd quieted. Children rushed to find their parents and all those standing settled onto the ground in silence . There was no white horse for her to ride in on but it was clear who she represented. The Queen of the May: A fair maiden to close the festivities with song.

She began to sing, arms outstretched, encompassing all the people, the trees, the land.

Her voice was rich, deeply accented, as the song began. Robin's band sat closely together, their arms wrapped tightly around the waists of the women leaning heavily into their arms.

Way up there in the poison glen

The sun's going down on the misty mountain

And I'm watching

And wondering

Feeling something from long ago

Robin dropped his face into Marion's soft curls, inhaling the fresh flowery scent. His arms tightened around her and she settled into the comforting embrace, turning only slightly to look at her husband's pale features.

She smiled and pressed a lingering kiss to the side of his cheek.

Haunted echo that surrounds the glen

The heather creeping through

The burned out ruins

And I'm watching

And wondering

Feeling spirits of long ago

He moved his head slightly and captured her lips, keeping a wary eye on those surrounding them so as not to give them more of a view than was proper.

Who in the valley shed the poison tear

No one knows

An old legend of a mythical hero

And I'm watching

And wondering

Feeling something from long ago

Settling back into Robin's arms once again, Marion listened to the heavily accented words. Her skin tingled from where Robin's long fingers traced small circles on the back of her wrists.

He leaned down as if to speak, but instead pressed a soft kiss to her temple.

Her body trembled as he brushed his lips and cheek against her skin. Her breathing quickened and he smiled against her neck. The invitation was clear.

May this vale be my silver lining

Pleasing nature with a heart's desire

And I'm watching

And wondering

Feeling everything from long ago

As the song ended, the crowd stood around the young maiden to rejoice in the coming of the new year. Each person, young and old, lifted objects, hand crafted and filled with whatever symbolized their wishes for the coming year, and walked slowly to one of the many bonfires. Almost reverently, they cast the objects into the flickering flame, watching until their offering was nothing but burned ashes.

A calm settled over the crowd as the people began to settle down for the night. Children snuggled into their parent’s embrace for warmth, couples found various ways to keep themselves warm.

Little John lay back with Meg cradled to his chest, snoring loud enough to scare small critters.

Tuck and Much found comfort and warmth sleeping next to one another, the only members of the group who had not found female companionship.

Will was no where to be seen, but it was apparent that he'd be quite occupied for the next several hours, if not days as the women he'd entertained all evening fought over him.

Nasir had disappeared as well, hand in hand with the fair-haired Queen of the May.

Robin lifted Marion from where they sat and began to walk deeper into the forest, away from prying eyes, away from any sounds but that of the beasts that inhabited the forest and the soft whistle of the leaves. Robin led her by the hand, walking slowly but with deliberate steps toward an unknown destination.

"Robin, where are….."

He turned quickly and shushed her with a fingertip to her lips.

The mysterious destination was not far off and Marion smiled warmly, when they came upon a small thicket, covered with moss and undergrowth soft enough on which to sleep.

Marion smiled and wrapped her arms around Robin's neck as he lifted her into his arms. Their lips met in a gentle kiss, holding, searching, until they parted breathless.

When their eyes met, there was a burning, a desire, an unspoken agreement as he settled her onto the soft moss.

Slowly they explored one another's bodies with only the moonlight to guide their way. The lithe muscle bared before Marion's eyes always stole her breath and she bent to press a kiss to his chest, lips skimming the skin across his heart.

"My heart and love forever, Marion of Loxley." He murmured, kneeling before her and capturing her mouth in a firm, but gentle kiss.

Long fingers plunged into Marion's curls, the softness slipping through his fingers like water. He lavished her lips, cheeks, eyelids with soft kisses before nimble fingers opened his breaches to the cold night air and her gentle touch.

Chapter 3

Marion rested her head atop his chest, allowing the steady rise and fall to lull her into a restful and sated slumber. One leg rested atop his upper thigh, one hand in his dark locks, the other splayed across his bare chest, fingers lightly brushing the tunic she'd pushed away in the heat of passion.

The leaves rustled around them, the chilling breeze drawing them closer to share in their bodies combined warmth. Animals milled around for food in the darkness, some scurrying back to their homes now that the merrymaking had concluded and the drunkards were down for the evening.

In the back of her mind, Marion felt the muscles in her husband's chest tense .

The animals became silent.

His steady, even breathing was replaced with short, shallow breaths.

She heard a twig snap.

Robin's eyes snapped open, eyes darting around where they lay, searching the darkness for any signs of movement.

The clink of metal could be heard and Robin pushed Marion out of his arms and away from the ‘sching’ of steel being released from its scabbard.

Moonlight glinted off the blade as arched towards Robin's head. He followed his wife, his quick reflexes the only thing preventing the blade from striking a killing blow.

Violent tearing and shredding of fabric could be heard and Robin hissed in pain, reaching for the wound. Tears welled in his eyes but were quickly dried by the cool breeze. Determination and fear were the only things that kept him standing. Determination not to be caught by whatever being awaited them in the darkness, and fear for the safety of his beloved.

"Robin!" Marion cried as he pulled her to her feet and they began running toward the others they’d left hours before.

"We must find the others!" He shouted. Leaves and branches struck his face as they ran, leaving their mark on the pale skin. Long arms reached out in the darkness, ready to grasp anyone with intent to harm. Marion followed at his heals, eyes wide in the darkness.

The moon hung low overhead but was nearly blocked by the large trees and their overhanging branches. The forest was dark, eerily so. They were not far from the glen, but Robin feared that they would arrive too late.

They skidded to a halt, searching around the smoky fires, long burned out from the festivities. There was no one to be found. Everyone had vanished. Even Robin's men, and the women he'd last seen wrapped snugly into their arms.

Robin squinted in the darkness, trying to make out any forms, any sign of life. Before he could whirl on the man chasing them, he heard a strangled cry. “Robin, behind you!”

Wincing at the pain in his arm, Robin spun on the soldier, sword arched to block the man’s thrust. Now was not the time to concentrate on pain as adrenaline rushed through the young mans veins.

Suddenly the outlaws leapt out of the trees, out of hiding, and attacked the soldiers pouring into the glen.

The sun began to climb into the sky as soldiers fell, this sunrise the last they would ever see.

Metal gleamed and clashed as the rays of sunlight slipped through the overhanging trees. Every time their thought there would be no more, a group of soldiers would appear, cutting of their escape route.

“How many soldiers does Gisburn have!” Will hissed swinging wildly at the nearest soldier, taking the sword arm off with one heavy blow.

Dark hair flying wildly, Robin’s eyes darted around the glen, searching for a way to escape. Everywhere he looked, there was a soldier, drawing deadly steel or cocking a metal crossbow. The couldn’t leave the forest, too many soldiers were descending upon them.

“Run!” Robin cried as metal arrows soared past his head, narrowly missing their intended target, “deeper into the forest!”

The outlaws scattered, pulling their bows with expert accuracy. Their arrows hit their marks, and soon soldiers were falling beneath each wooden dart released from the renegade band’s weapons.

Robin rushed ahead of Marion and Tuck, taking out a soldier who’d leveled his crossbow at Marion’s head, before he could even cock the weapon.

Marion breathed a visible sign of relief as she caught Robin’s hand in her own and they ran over the body and deeper into the forest.

Behind them, John swung his staff, clocking one soldier in the head and another across the face, downing them both with one quick blow.

“Will!” John cried, catching Scarlett’s attention. Will thrust his sword into the slower soldiers midsection and he crumpled to the ground with a sharp cry of pain. “Les go!”

Much let loose an arrow, striking an approaching soldier seconds before his blade could come down on Will’s back. The three men raced around the oaks as metal arrows struck the bark.

Villagers cowered in the foliage, peering through branches, around bushes and from beneath whatever hard surface they could find when the battle begun.

Branches cracked and twigs snapped as the outlaws darted around logs and oaks older than all of them put together.

There was always an agreement made between them to meet at Herne’s glen should they ever be separated. Marion, Robin and Tuck made for the glen first, the others not far out of sight.

Marion cried out suddenly and stumbled, clutching at her leg.

“Marion!” Robin skidded to a halt beside his injured wife and whirled, ignoring the pain in his arm, and pulled the bow tight. The lone soldier, whose arrow had struck Marion, trembled as he watched the arrow released. He turned to run but it was too late. The arrow shot straight and true, striking the soldier’s chest with a sickening snap.

Robin dropped to his knees while Marion tore her dress to make a bandage. Robin pressed his palm into the material as Marion tied it tightly to stop the bleeding. Delicate hands slipped into bow-callused ones as Robin helped her regain her feet. She stumbled and whimpered from the pain and Robin carefully searched her face.

“Go!” She cried. “Leave me here! I’ll only slow you down.”

“No.” Robin refused, voice tight with the anticipation of soldiers coming down upon them any moment. Robin knew her words were true, but refused to leave her to the mercy of Gisburn’s men.

Marion swept a lock of hair out of his eyes before cupping his cheek in a chilled palm. “We can never be parted.”

He shook his head, refusing to acknowledge that she could not keep up with him as he ran.

“Go, Robin.” Tuck sat breathless next to Marion. “I will watch over your little flower.”

“You are both insane.” Robin murmured, pressing a kiss into the palm of a freckled hand.

“You know we are right.” Marion whispered, eyes meeting his, locking and searching.

Robin leaned down and kissed her soundly before standing. Twigs snapped all around them and voices could be heard.

“Go.” Marion whispered as Tuck helped her to her feet and they began walking in the opposite direction.

Robin closed his eyes and raised his head to the sky, murmuring a quiet, “Herne protect them.”

Chapter 4

His eyes dropped from the sky at Marion’s panicked shout. “Robin, look out!”

He whirled just in time to see the hilt of a blade strike him across the face. Blood erupted from the gash that ran the length of his cheek as his head was whipped back from the force of the blow. Robin staggered right into another soldier and took another blow to the back of the head, dropping him to his knees. The last thing the young wolfshead saw before unconsciousness claimed him was Marion struggling to free herself from the heavy-handed grasp of Guy of Gisburne.

------------------------------------------------

Sweat plastered ravens-black hair to his neck and droplets slipped from the dark locks to sting his eyes. Robin winced, unable to lift his head more than a few inches off the ground. His face was swollen and he could taste the blood left there from the soldier’s blade. His arms were fastened tightly behind his back, the sleeve covering his injured arm glued to the skin with dried blood. He tried to roll over but the simple movement caused more pain that it was worth and he sunk to the ground with a small whimper.

“Sir!” Robin’s guard called. “He’s awake.”

“Well, well,” The smug features of Gisburne slowly focused before Robin’s eyes and he coughed, forcing air into his lungs. It hurt so much that Robin surmised that the guards had kicked him after he’d lost consciousness. “You fell right into our hands. Of course, you couldn’t expect your sympathizers to continue to sympathize when we have the power to drive them out of their homes and off the Kings land.”

“You abuse that power!” Marion spat from where she was tied with Tuck, backs against directly opposite her husband. “You unfairly tax the Kings subjects, take their stock when they cannot pay , fine them…”

“Yes,” Gisburne sneered. “And we will tax them for every one of the King’s deer your little band kills as well.” Amused blue eyes gazed down at Robin, who was still unable to move. “Soon, the rest of your little men will be turned in. If not, then we will burn each village from here to Ravenscar Abby.”

Gisburne cast a triumphant look toward Marion and then shoved the tip of his boot into Robin’s midsection. “What’s the matter, Loxley, Herne got your tongue?”

The soldiers laughed, amused at the fact the young wolfshead was unable to fight back, unable to even speak his obvious contempt for the King’s law.

“Leave him alone,” Marion called, eyeing her husband with obvious concern. “He’s injured.”

Gisburne laughed, loud and long. “Have no fear Lady, he won’t be injured for long.” The large soldier skirted around Robin and knelt beside Marion, cupping her cheek in a gloved hand. “ Soon, he’ll be dead.” He leaned closer, breath hot and rank against her cheek. “I think the Sheriff will want you to watch. It would certainly make a more impressive statement.”

Robin watched carefully Gisburne’s handling of his wife. Eyed the rough touch, anger welling within his soul. A wry grin spread across Robin’s face when Marion wrenched her cheek from Guy’s grasp and glared.

“And then you, little rebel, will be going to Kirklees Abbey to continue where you’d begun before this outlaw defiled you.” Gisburne licked his lips, staring at Marion’s torn dress and the slit baring her milky skin from ankle to thigh.

“It cannot be defilement with a willing subject.” She hissed, green eyes boring into amused blue ones.

“Witchcraft and sorcery.” Gisburne sneered, turning to where Robin had managed to lift his head to stare silently at the man. “You will be executed for such, wolfshead.” A swift, hard kick knocked Robin into unconsciousness once again, amidst Marion’s cries of protest.

END PART 1