Lady Marian doesn't do embroidery (mrs_locksley) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2012-10-31 10:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | marian locksley, robin hood |
Who: Robin and Marian
What: Making up (we hope!)
When: After their little internet spat
Where: Their flat
Warnings: Doubtful, it's the Locksleys
She'd needed the fresh air, admittedly, but mostly, Marian just hadn't wanted to be around Robin for a little while. That was healthy, wasn't it? It meant she wasn't co-dependent, that she could survive without him. She didn't need him in order to survive.
Or it just meant she had a vicious temper that rivaled his and they butted heads often enough for her to need time away once in a while.
She wasn't even entirely sure what had happened. How arguments between them always escalated so quickly. Women of her time and her station were typically supposed to take whatever was thrown at them while sitting down and smiling sweetly. They were supposed to submit to their husbands one hundred percent and never question their words, their logic, or their anger. But Marian was far from typical, even in this time, and for hers, she was almost unthought of. Perhaps it was growing up without a mother, being raised by father who had no idea how to reign in his spirited little girl. Add in the influence of the young Lord of Locksley, and she was bound to be a bit wild and untamed. Oh, she knew how to be a proper lady. Her maids and nurses had seen to that. She just had no urge to.
The first thing she'd done was go to the cafe she'd begun frequenting to have a tea and clear her head. Then she'd taken to walking, amulet around her neck and dagger on her hip, just in case. After a good two hours away, she'd finally made her way back to the complex, feeling a bit better but still anxious about facing her husband. It wasn't entirely his fault, and she could accept that.
Saying it out loud, however, would cost her more pride than she wanted to admit.
She slipped inside the flat, shutting the door softly and letting her eyes adjust to the darkness before she made her way to their bedroom. Theirs. That was still taking some getting used to. For the most part, she loved it, despite getting used to each others little quirks and habits. She'd merely had a taste of it at the camp and they'd been surrounded by the rest of the gang. Hardly an intimate setting. This was decidedly better. But that also meant that on nights like this, when it might have been healthier for them to be apart, she still had to share a bed with the man.