Fic: Snow (Robin Hood) - (Nana Does Christmas)

[keep_counting]

Another in my 'Nana Does Christmas'. This one is for thymeladywho wanted some Guy/Marian ;) this is the second to last of these! The last will be posted on the 24th or the 25th

Title: Snow
Characters/Pairings: Marian/Guy
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Fluff. Overload of fluff
Genre: Romance
Word-count: 736
A/N: Christmas prompt for thymelady
Disclaimer: I own nothing in relation to this
Summary: Marian loves the snow. Guy doesn't quite agree.

”God I hate snow,” Guy had muttered first thing in the morning, then left to go do his duties as Sheriff. Excellent way to start the day, but Marian was not deterred by his bad moods (of which she was more than used to). It was snowing and it was beautiful.

There was a white layer over everything, coating all the houses in diamonds that sparkled in the faint sunlight. The tree-branches where hanging low, getting heavier by the minute because of the still-falling snow. Marian hadn’t been outside more than ten minutes before the top of her hood was as white as the scenery. She giggled slightly to herself as she imagined Guy on his black horse, with his black hair and in his black clothes. Completely covered in frosty layers of white.

She didn’t have to imagine long though: only an hour later he came back home, trampling in through the front-door to the great protest of their maid (‘I just swept that floor my lord!’), his hair and clothes damp from the snow outside.

“God I hate snow,” he repeated, struggling out of his cloak and shaking his hair like a dog to rid it off the water. “I really, really hate snow,”

Marian had to stifle another giggle. “Why’re you home so early then? Castle’s warmer by this time than this place,”

He sent her a look she couldn’t quite decipher. “There fell so much snow last night that a few of the trees along the road completely bend over and crashed. It was almost impossible to get through, would have taken me hours,” Marian frowned slightly at his neglecting of duties, prompting him to smile widely at her. “It was so cold my nose would’ve frozen and fallen off!”

That elicits a laugh from her, the mental image enough to make her double over in her chair. He smiles and disappears to change his clothes while she gets a hold of herself.

She follows him after the laughter has subsided, leaning against the doorway to their bedroom with her arms folded over her chest, a mimicking of the way he usually stands when not comfortable enough to sit right next to her. Not that she’s uncomfortable right now at all (who could be with such a view? And oh, now he’d taken his shirt back on. Shame), but it’s always a good pose when you want to ask a question you aren’t sure you’re going to receive an answer to. It’s what Vaisey used to do. It’s what Robin does. It’s very persuasive, and if all the tough men can do it, then so can Marian.

“Why do you hate snow so much?”

His face is a stone-mask of no emotion, a quick glance in her direction all she gets before he turns around and starts putting away his drenched clothes. Marian sighs.

“Guy, I asked you a question,”

“Yes, and I didn’t answer.”

“Well, why didn’t you?”

“Because the reason is: I just don’t like it. It’s cold and wet and gets in the way all the time,”

“A bit like England then,” Marian stated.

Guy merely grumbled, moving to walk out of the room, but she quickly blocked his way.

“I love snow,” she proclaimed, knowing full well that he wasn’t going to push past her to get out. Despite being a head taller and Sherriff of Nottingham, she could still intimidate him –  she sometimes had a suspicion that this fact excited him as much as it did her.

“Yes, I figured you would,” he muttered in his exasperated ‘Marian-you-are-being-silly’ voice. It was accompanied by a rather dramatic eye-roll.

“I love it because we see it so rarely,” she continued on, ignoring his rebukes. “Because it’s always just dripping rain, and sloshing wet and you’re hardly able to see when you get outside. Snow lights everything up, it… it outlines things and shows its true shape. Like the trees that suddenly look so dark beneath all the white, they look dead and ghostlike, but… but you can still recognize them as trees. They’re still beautiful.”

Guy’s eyes flickered away from her face, his lips twitching: he looked like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to smile amusedly or glare at her.

“What exactly are you saying?” he finally settled for, asking a possibly very loaded question. Marian took his hand.

“Come look at the snow with me?”

He followed.