Drabble No. Six:
Jun. 3rd, 2008 11:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Genre: Drabble
Pairing: Robin/Marian
Wordcount: 150
Notes: Inspiration provided by
![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Legs
When she was little, her legs were pudgy and pink.
Robin remembers her toddling along the edge of Locksley pond, with her skirts pulled up to her chest. She’d barely learned to walk.
Eighteen years later, he finds himself caressing the same thighs – the legs that carried her unsteadily through childhood, ever firmly into terrifying adulthood. He runs a hand down to her knees, remembering grazes and grass stains and childish laughter – once, he pushed her over, made her cry. The memory comes back to him, shameful in its horrifying clarity.
“What?” Marian asks him (she is stroking his ears, the warmth of her beneath him comforting).
He considers, then shakes his head. “I was an idiot, when I was little.”
Marian smiles at him, amused, “you are still an idiot – some of the time.”
“Oh, hah,” he tells her, and kisses her neck as he gently parts her thighs.