When Marian briefly lived in the outlaw camp, there had been a few nights where she had needed comfort due to the grief over her father, or he had awoken from yet another nightmare of the Crusades, or they had simply stayed up too late talking quietly, and they had fallen asleep in one another's arms. (And had woken up to suspicious glances from Much.)
He was rather glad that tonight seemed to be another such night; he knew he would sleep easier with her resting against him, where he could wake up and reassure himself that she was truly there.
"You do not have to ask me twice," he answered softly, taking her hand and kissing it before sliding into the bed-- a much more generous space than their camp bunks-- and gathering her against him.
Just before drifting off, he recalled the pajamas they had purchased earlier; however, after sleeping in his regular clothing for so long, it did not bother him to do it again. She would not be so used to it, but she did not seem to mind.
Kissing the top of her head where it rested on his shoulder, he let sleep claim him.