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anythingbutgreya ficmix.
(hello, fandom. this is my fourth fic in a week! whaaat? gpa? whaaat?)
Title: A Floorplan of My Head and Heart
Pairing: Robin/Marian (Robin Hood)
A/N: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
three_nails who is amazing. And thanks for your help, doll! Title is from Tegan and Sara's 'Floorplan' which is not in this ficmix (though it could be!)
Summary: She hears the crack in his voice on the singular note, wants to rush forward like a gust of wind in reverse and pull him home, breathless kisses and never leave me. (Pre-series)
01. I've Just Seen a Face - Jim Sturgess
I've just seen a face,
I can't forget the time or place
Where we just met.
She's just the girl for me
And I want all the world to see
We've met
It’s the lilt in her voice that gets him a quiet afternoon in Nottingham, market day, and she stands just behind and to the left of her father.
“Edward, it’s great to see you,” his father smiles, arms extended.
Her father takes the hug, but Robin still watches her face that does not shy away from him like all the other girls. He’s always been an attractive one, Robin, and most noble women cast their eyes to the ground with a slight blush.
Edward notices Robin’s eyes with a slight scowl no one sees and gestures behind him at the girl. “This is my daughter,” he says with that tone fathers use when they’re protecting their daughters from the evil tyranny of men.
“Marian,” she says, eyes a little hard, voice a little strident with a pinch of laughter that sounds like mockery. “You’re Robin, right?”
He smirks. “Yes, pleasure to meet you.”
She laughs with a bite. “I’m sure it is,” she says and her voice rings with Oh, I’ve heard stories about you.
She leans into her father and whispers something soft into his ear, turns on her heel and walks away to a nearby merchant. She gives a throwback look behind her at him, looks like annoyance; he reads it (perhaps correctly, she’ll deny it) as something totally different.
02. Eisley - Plenty of Paper
And oh my love
We can live on the sun
And wouldn't we be attractive
Riding in our shiny motor cars
With eyeglasses full of stars
And plenty of paper for scenery paintings
In a field of high grass on warm afternoons, she lies with her eyes closed. There’s a cleared patch in the field where they meet and she curls into him. They revel in clichés of young love and think themselves unique. But that’s always how it feels, though, isn’t it. (That isn’t a question.)
“What are you doing?” he asks as her hands scurry across parchment, smudges growing on her palms.
She laughs. “You’ll see,” a soft smile, familiar and yet never accustomed to. She never stops making him forget how to breathe.
She spins the parchment toward him. “Here,” she says, but her soft comment gets lost beneath his mind spinning at the drawing she has made, them, this field, older, wiser, the softest etching of a ring on her left hand, and he didn’t know parchment could breathe and live as this drawing does.
Really, he doesn’t ask her to marry him. Of course, he asks her with words, but she asks him first with pictures that hope.
“Yes,” she laughs when he asks, her arms clasped around his neck and her lips on his mouth – or maybe his lips on her mouth, or maybe they’ve always been one.
03. Regina Spektor - Somedays
Somedays aren't yours at all,
They come and go
As if they're someone else's days
They come and leave you behind someone else's face
And it's harsher than yours
And colder than yours
The king’s men come in with long letters about duty and honor and All men wishing to fight for King Richard. There’s a moment of hesitation, but he just wants to get out for a little, see the world beyond the waters surrounding England. English patriotism has always been contagious, especially within him.
He doesn’t think he’ll be gone more than a year at first. He would never leave her for longer.
But her eyes fall to the ground when he tells her and there’s no turning back, but he can see in her face he’ll be gone too long for them to survive.
There's no turning back now, though. He's made his irretractable decision with the torches of glory for king and country blinding his eyes.
“I have to do this,” he whispers, forehead to forehead (heart to heart). “For England.”
Marian always watches her hands when her eyes tear up like dew in mornings. “And for me?”
Later, Marian will separate herself into Marian before Robin left and Marian after Robin left. Before he left she was so much softer inside, plush pillows and cradling soul.
And this, this breaks her.
“You promised,” she whispers to her hands.
She knows her nearly childish protestations won’t change anything, but they won’t stop playing on repeat, her mind in circular patterns.
He tries to kiss her and she pushes him away.
(She'll do that for a very, very long time, keep him apart from her with her hands and heart.)
04. Tegan and Sara - Nineteen
I felt you in my legs before I ever met you
And when I laid beside you for the first time I told you
"I feel you in my heart and I don't even know you"
And now we're saying bye
A month later, time to go.
“Don’t wait for me,” he says, his back to her, eyes shimmering and hidden – he’s a man, he’s going to battle, men don’t cry.
A creak echoes on the floorboards as she steps forward and her voice rings with venom when she says, “What?”
He shakes her head, she doesn’t understand. She thinks he means a command of indifference, I don’t want you to spend your evenings with sad sighs outside that window that reminds you of me. Because I, my dear, simply do not care for you, but that’s not it at all.
“If you find someone better –” he says, wondering if she can hear the break in his voice. “If you find someone better, I don’t want you to wait for me. I don’t want you to hang on to us if you want to be happy. If this hurts you, I want you to forget me.”
Most of it is a lie, but, Robin, he has always been a bit of a martyr about everything.
Clasped bags in hands and a step out the door, he whispers goodbye.
She hears the crack in his voice on the singular note, wants to rush forward like a gust of wind in reverse and pull him home, breathless kisses and never leave me.
Perhaps she would have done it, too, if it would have changed anything.
05. Nickel Creek - Beauty and the Mess
Ain't that what you want them to know?
All they get of you is what they get out of the show
The rest is mine, I guess, the beauty and the mess
To hide
Meeting Guy is anything but accidental, but she paints it that way. She hears about Guy’s arrival in Locksley, and the idea of someone else in Robin’s house makes her shiver, his footsteps over their memories. Even if they’re memories she’d rather forget they’re still hers.
Dan Scarlett sighs, arms folded. “I don’t like this, Marian.”
She nods. She doesn’t like it either, no, not just because of the stranger on Robin’s lands, but also because she can see his stature of oppression, the fear he spreads by breathing. She introduces herself and the look that crosses his face is something like confusion. She’ll later learn that’s just the face of someone with emotions shiny and new.
But he’ll never get what he wants – it’s not just who he is, it’s too much who he isn’t. (She’ll never admit that, don’t even try.)
She keeps her window shut at night now, outlaws about.
*
feedback?
(hello, fandom. this is my fourth fic in a week! whaaat? gpa? whaaat?)
Title: A Floorplan of My Head and Heart
Pairing: Robin/Marian (Robin Hood)
A/N: For
three_nails who is amazing. And thanks for your help, doll! Title is from Tegan and Sara's 'Floorplan' which is not in this ficmix (though it could be!)Summary: She hears the crack in his voice on the singular note, wants to rush forward like a gust of wind in reverse and pull him home, breathless kisses and never leave me. (Pre-series)
01. I've Just Seen a Face - Jim Sturgess
I've just seen a face,
I can't forget the time or place
Where we just met.
She's just the girl for me
And I want all the world to see
We've met
It’s the lilt in her voice that gets him a quiet afternoon in Nottingham, market day, and she stands just behind and to the left of her father.
“Edward, it’s great to see you,” his father smiles, arms extended.
Her father takes the hug, but Robin still watches her face that does not shy away from him like all the other girls. He’s always been an attractive one, Robin, and most noble women cast their eyes to the ground with a slight blush.
Edward notices Robin’s eyes with a slight scowl no one sees and gestures behind him at the girl. “This is my daughter,” he says with that tone fathers use when they’re protecting their daughters from the evil tyranny of men.
“Marian,” she says, eyes a little hard, voice a little strident with a pinch of laughter that sounds like mockery. “You’re Robin, right?”
He smirks. “Yes, pleasure to meet you.”
She laughs with a bite. “I’m sure it is,” she says and her voice rings with Oh, I’ve heard stories about you.
She leans into her father and whispers something soft into his ear, turns on her heel and walks away to a nearby merchant. She gives a throwback look behind her at him, looks like annoyance; he reads it (perhaps correctly, she’ll deny it) as something totally different.
02. Eisley - Plenty of Paper
And oh my love
We can live on the sun
And wouldn't we be attractive
Riding in our shiny motor cars
With eyeglasses full of stars
And plenty of paper for scenery paintings
In a field of high grass on warm afternoons, she lies with her eyes closed. There’s a cleared patch in the field where they meet and she curls into him. They revel in clichés of young love and think themselves unique. But that’s always how it feels, though, isn’t it. (That isn’t a question.)
“What are you doing?” he asks as her hands scurry across parchment, smudges growing on her palms.
She laughs. “You’ll see,” a soft smile, familiar and yet never accustomed to. She never stops making him forget how to breathe.
She spins the parchment toward him. “Here,” she says, but her soft comment gets lost beneath his mind spinning at the drawing she has made, them, this field, older, wiser, the softest etching of a ring on her left hand, and he didn’t know parchment could breathe and live as this drawing does.
Really, he doesn’t ask her to marry him. Of course, he asks her with words, but she asks him first with pictures that hope.
“Yes,” she laughs when he asks, her arms clasped around his neck and her lips on his mouth – or maybe his lips on her mouth, or maybe they’ve always been one.
03. Regina Spektor - Somedays
Somedays aren't yours at all,
They come and go
As if they're someone else's days
They come and leave you behind someone else's face
And it's harsher than yours
And colder than yours
The king’s men come in with long letters about duty and honor and All men wishing to fight for King Richard. There’s a moment of hesitation, but he just wants to get out for a little, see the world beyond the waters surrounding England. English patriotism has always been contagious, especially within him.
He doesn’t think he’ll be gone more than a year at first. He would never leave her for longer.
But her eyes fall to the ground when he tells her and there’s no turning back, but he can see in her face he’ll be gone too long for them to survive.
There's no turning back now, though. He's made his irretractable decision with the torches of glory for king and country blinding his eyes.
“I have to do this,” he whispers, forehead to forehead (heart to heart). “For England.”
Marian always watches her hands when her eyes tear up like dew in mornings. “And for me?”
Later, Marian will separate herself into Marian before Robin left and Marian after Robin left. Before he left she was so much softer inside, plush pillows and cradling soul.
And this, this breaks her.
“You promised,” she whispers to her hands.
She knows her nearly childish protestations won’t change anything, but they won’t stop playing on repeat, her mind in circular patterns.
He tries to kiss her and she pushes him away.
(She'll do that for a very, very long time, keep him apart from her with her hands and heart.)
04. Tegan and Sara - Nineteen
I felt you in my legs before I ever met you
And when I laid beside you for the first time I told you
"I feel you in my heart and I don't even know you"
And now we're saying bye
A month later, time to go.
“Don’t wait for me,” he says, his back to her, eyes shimmering and hidden – he’s a man, he’s going to battle, men don’t cry.
A creak echoes on the floorboards as she steps forward and her voice rings with venom when she says, “What?”
He shakes her head, she doesn’t understand. She thinks he means a command of indifference, I don’t want you to spend your evenings with sad sighs outside that window that reminds you of me. Because I, my dear, simply do not care for you, but that’s not it at all.
“If you find someone better –” he says, wondering if she can hear the break in his voice. “If you find someone better, I don’t want you to wait for me. I don’t want you to hang on to us if you want to be happy. If this hurts you, I want you to forget me.”
Most of it is a lie, but, Robin, he has always been a bit of a martyr about everything.
Clasped bags in hands and a step out the door, he whispers goodbye.
She hears the crack in his voice on the singular note, wants to rush forward like a gust of wind in reverse and pull him home, breathless kisses and never leave me.
Perhaps she would have done it, too, if it would have changed anything.
05. Nickel Creek - Beauty and the Mess
Ain't that what you want them to know?
All they get of you is what they get out of the show
The rest is mine, I guess, the beauty and the mess
To hide
Meeting Guy is anything but accidental, but she paints it that way. She hears about Guy’s arrival in Locksley, and the idea of someone else in Robin’s house makes her shiver, his footsteps over their memories. Even if they’re memories she’d rather forget they’re still hers.
Dan Scarlett sighs, arms folded. “I don’t like this, Marian.”
She nods. She doesn’t like it either, no, not just because of the stranger on Robin’s lands, but also because she can see his stature of oppression, the fear he spreads by breathing. She introduces herself and the look that crosses his face is something like confusion. She’ll later learn that’s just the face of someone with emotions shiny and new.
But he’ll never get what he wants – it’s not just who he is, it’s too much who he isn’t. (She’ll never admit that, don’t even try.)
She keeps her window shut at night now, outlaws about.
*
feedback?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-11-30 06:05 pm (UTC)Anyway, I loved it as usual. You write them so well. ♥
I cannot wait for Saturday!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-30 07:02 pm (UTC)