Chapter Text
Ms. Heliotrope was in the midst of a very serious stitch when the storm finally hit them. It announced itself with a flash of lightning and a deep roll of thunder which rumbled for a good few moment after the main clap, and finished out by leaving in its wake the sound of raised voices It had only been a matter of time, really. The commotion had begun with the first few pelts of rain and had come from the rear of the estate, somewhere near the forest, and has the skies opened more, so, too, had the bickering migrated its way to the fence line, then the garden, before finallt entering the house with little care for the occupants inside. Or their needle point.
Five years ago, the scene as it presented itself now before them would have caused Ms. Heliotrope's indigestion a great bit of trouble. Now, as it was, the apparent spat between her former ward and the de Noir heir had become a constant in their lives, and as such it warranted little reaction besides a brief pause in her needle work to see if her current position in the parlor was to be disturbed indefinitely, or simply suffer the quarrel in passing.
The slight shift from the corner of the room indicated that she was not alone in her stolen peace. Sir Benjamin had abandoned his book in favor of repositioning himself on the edge of the settee, poised for action should the need arise, but relaxed enough in the knowledge that any aid he could provide would surely do very little where the two forces of nature currently collided.
Loveday, who sat in her own rather undignified position by her husband’s feet on the floor, skirt billowing out around her like a second rug on the carpet, a woodland creature curled in her lap -- a hare? -- and was staring wistfully towards the kitchen where the could all hear her brother receive a thorough scolding.
It took several moments, but the bickering quieted, slightly. Voices would raise in periodic spurts, the content itself indiscernible, but then quiet down again as if the tide of the conversation were itself adrift on a stormy sea. Ms. Heliotrope resumed her stitch, Loveday went back to grooming the latest rescued wild-thing in her lap — a raccoon, perhaps? — and Sir Benjamin, bless him, did his almighty best at pretending to read, though he failed to pick his book up the correct way and now held it upside down.
Life, as they had come to know it in the Manor, was as it should be…
That is, until the kitchen door was slammed open with such force that it was lucky to still be on its hinges, and the angry slap of shoe soles stole down the hall.
The abruptness of Maria’s entrance into the great hall, just in view from the parlor, skirt a flurry of fabric against her legs and the floor, did a sufficiently good job of startling the rest of the occupants of the home. Ms. Heliotrope even pricked her finger with her needle, to the point that a speck of blood threatened to drip on her work and the suddenness of the pain causing her to let out a long and undignified belch that she could not hold in.
“What in the seven hells —“ Sir Benjamin was on his feet, a protective hand outstretched towards his wife as she had begun to rise with him, a hand holding her fury creature tight to her chest in case it spooked, the other on her own extended belly to soothe her unborn child.
Maria made her way to the grand staircase, the hem of her green dress sodden from the storm outside, but clearly that being the extent of her physical damage considering there was a very familiar leather jacket draped around her shoulders and thin frame.
Robin, for his part, who came to appear swiftly at her heal, was thoroughly soaked through. The de Noir heir was a sopping mess of curls plastered to his temples, shirt clinging to his frame, and leaving in his wake several small pools of water on the marble floors.
Maria passed them without so much of a second glance or greeting, too preoccupied in shouting to pay much mind to anything else. “— You are, without a doubt, the most ignorant, blithering dolt I have ever had the misfortune of being acquainted with!”
It was less shocking that Robin, for his part, spared little care for his own tone in the presence of company, as he raised his voice to shout at the retreating Merryweather, “And you are as prickly as a thicket! Always so quick to lash out without any merit —”
Maria turned to him, then. Her face red and indignant, jaw working itself at the hinge, and wearing an expression so volatile that Ms. Heliotrope found herself belching all the more, while Robin shut his mouth completely.
The pair stared each other down momentarily, Maria took two steps closer to her sparing partner, hands opening and closing into fists and nostrils flaring. Robin, the steadfast and arrogant boy that he was, held his ground firmly, even going so far as to cross his arms across his puffed out chest expectantly. This, as any of the room’s occupants could have foretold, was an unwise decision, as Maria’s eye twitched and she suddenly huffed and all but tore the coat from over her shoulders and flung it at its rightful owner who barely spared a glance as he caught it with ease, fist tight around the material.
This, apparently, annoyed the young woman all the more as she took up her own skirt once more, practically hissing in the process, “I will have you know that my upsetment comes from a very legitimate place. Whereas yours come from a place entire out of proportion to circumstance..." She then turned heal towards the stairs, without any indication that she expected nor wanted any additional response.
Robin followed closely behind her, anyway, just like he usually did, no matter how many insults or projectiles were thrown at him. Before his foot hit the first step though, hw stopped as if he had only just heard her. The leather of his coat made a sound of protest as it was thoroughly wrung in his hands. “Out of proportion?” The reiteration boomed from the stairwell and echoed throughout the halls, sounding for all intent and purpose, like a true chief’s heir.
If Ms. Heliotrope didn’t know the boy so well, she may have even been briefly intimidated by the audacious tone and how it was directed at her former ward. How, in that one sentence, Ms. Helliotrope looked upon Robin de Noir of Castle Black and no longer saw a petulant and arrogant thug, but a man who had just been deeply affronted. As it was, she did know Robin, and regardless of age or eventual position, she also knew that the boy, and by extension the man he had grown to be, would be the last person on earth to bring any harm to Maria Merryweather. No matter how much provocation and unladylike behavior was shown to him.
Sir Benjamin clearly was wrestling with the same realization, only he actually made to move to intervene, but Loveday pulled her husband back down to perch at the end of the chaise.
“Yes!” Maria screamed back. “I do not need a babysitter! Despite the common misconception, I am an adult now, and as such I can make decisions regarding exactly whom and whom not to associate with.”
The incredulous laugh that escaped the de Noir heir made even Ms. Heliotrope wince, as it reveled nothing but utter defiance and disagreement — two things she knew her young charge did not receive well.
“Please, Princess — you make foolhardy decision that almost always nearly get you hurt. Especially for the sake of others, and that godforsaken notion you hold about what is and is not proper.”
“Because I am a lady! Unlike you de Noirs, who think any form of social decorum is an absolute myth…”
“Because most of your rules are foolish! You don’t have to entertain every git who comes to court you, you know?”
At that, Sir Benjamin was back on his feet, looking between the women in the room like he was about to go utterly mad himself, even going so far as to make an attempt to interrupt his niece’s fury. His attempt was for naught, and his request for order was ignored.
“There is decency in the way in which I let them down! You, on the other hand, completely overreacted and embarrassed me!”
“That bastard is the one who should be embarrassed.”
“Oh, I think you made sure of that! But that was your plan from the start, wasn’t it? The great Robin de Noir, off to show his skill with his fist,” Maria retorted, her own knuckles bone white as she held them over her head. “Not everything you disagree with should be satisfied through brute force!” The young woman stopped her ascent suddenly, spinning her whole body around, finger outstretched in front of her and pointing at Robin. “And another thing,” she began, moving to descend the stair she currently occupied, but getting no further than lifting her foot before being stopped by her own dress, causing her to fall forward.
The room was up in an instant, a collective gasp shared amongst them.
Any horror was short lived, as Robin closed the gap and stopped Maria’s plummet downward by clutching the young girl to his chest, redirecting her forward momentum by taking it fully into his solid frame and bringing them both down to the carpeted steps, using his body as the cushion and with Maria fully draped over Robin’s lap, his arms wrapped around her waist.
Ms. Heliotrope dropped her needle point, but if it made a sound, no one bothered to hear it. There was collectively shared breath being held, a monumental moment in time the was pushed into existence as Maria opened her mouth to resume speaking —
“I’m sorry,” Robin cut across whatever she had planned to say. And, evidently, it hadn’t mattered much, as the girl snapped her mouth closed in an instant. Robin, not so dimwitted as proper society seemed to think, took advantage of this as he went on, “Princess — Maria — I am sorry if I embarrassed you…” But, he was a stubborn fool at times, too. One who just could not let the matter go, it seemed. “But you of all people should know there is no reason to give false hope where there is none. That man was a lecherous fool, plain as day.”
The half-hearted apology went ignored and Maria slapped the chest beneath her to make her point clear. Still, she did not move. In fact, Ms. Heliotrope’s former charge didn’t seem uncomfortable — or unfamiliar — with her current position at all… A point that was causing Ms. Heliptrope — and Sir Benjamin — a great deal of anxiety.
“No — Not as plain as day! Only by your own perception! If it were up to you and my uncle, I would remain an unmarried spinster!”
“You’re being dramatic,” Robin said, rolling his eyes as he went to pull them both up. Maria pushed his hands away, making a great show of trying to pull herself up in her rain-heavy skirts. “Plus, you’ve only just turned nineteen — your risk of becoming a spinster is a few years off, still.”
Whether or not Maria realized that she was, in fact, letting Robin assist her in getting back to her feet by her use of his shoulder as a brace was beside the point. She did make it to stand, and she used her newfound advantage of height to tower over the boy, still crouched on the floor.
“You don’t get it. You are a man, Robin. It’s perfectly fine for you to be twenty-two and unwed. You can produce an heir at anytime.”
Sir Benjamin turned to Loveday for guidance, but his wife was too busy shushing him to pay him any mind. He looked imploringly to Ms. Heliotrope, but her indigestion had finally overcome her and she was incapable of any response.
It was Robin, it seemed, to provide the unwitting backup for Benjamin Merryweather, who was currently turning ten different shades of red. “So that’s what this is about?” He asked, incredulous. “No standards of any kind when the biological clock is ticking, is that right? Anyone will do?”
At this, Loveday did pipe up to try and stop her brother, who was too busy staring up at Maria with a hurt expression. Like a lack of standards was not only insulting for herself, but to him, personally.
“You are —“ Maria began, stopped, huffed and looked away from the man before her, only to end up looking back and all but screaming. “You are incorrigible!”
She spun around once more, intent on making it fully up the stairs this time, even with Robin trailing after her once again.
“Wait — “Wait!”
The young de Noir almost tripped them both once again when Maria stopped short, spinning to grab the front of Robin’s damp shirt, wringing out the water as she shook him. “There are no other suitors, Robin! None that I will have, anyway.” Maria’s breath came and went in short, sporadic burst until Ms. Heliotrope worried her corset would cause her to faint. “And you — you’re too thick to do anything about it.”
“This is about enough,” Sir Benjamin said to himself, and made to break up the scene developing on the stairs, only to be grabbed by two sets of hands and yanked back into the salon.
“If you interrupt them now, it may be another four years before they get to this point again,” Loveday whispered to her husband, eyes frantic and hopeful.
“They are going to kill each other!”
“They are about to confess, my dear.”
Sir Benjamin looked back to the stairs, then to his wife, then to the stairs once again, trying to piece together some unsolvable equation of what in the bloody world his life had devolved into.
Loveday, who was granting him compassion, clearly, rubbed his arm where she grasped it. “Love is not such a simple thing. You of all people should know this.”
Ms. Heliotrope hiccuped her agreement from beside them, tears ready to streak down her face at any moment.
“Love?” he echoed back, dumbly. Both Loveday and Ms. Heliotrope nodded in turn. Sir Benjamin turned back to the stairs, completely at a loss for when this development had occurred.
Robin, it seemed, was equally at a loss of his own, searching for words, and instead just opening and closing his mouth. “I’m — I —“ he began. Stopped. Tried it twice more before abandoning it entirely and trying from a different angle. “You’ve said it yourself; I am no gentleman, Maria.” He spoke so low and uncertain that the eavesdropping trio had to move slightly closer to hear. Maria, too, moved closer, almost as if compelled. Suddenly, and out of what could only be frustration, the de Noir heir threw up his hands. “What? You want to become a de Noir and live is Castle Black with the rest of the lowbrows? There is at least one fight within our halls every night! Our children learn to barter before they learn to read!” He huffed, before going on to say, quieter, almost hopeful, “Is that really the life you want?”
“Yes!” Was the immediate response.“Yes, you fool. I don’t need you to change, just as I don’t anticipate myself to change for you. We could live in squalor by the sea, for all I care!”
At that, Ms. Heliotrope found her stomach churn — acid and bile running up into her mouth from the thought of it. Years! She had spent years teaching Maria how to live in proper society and for what —
Robin took three steps up and Maria met him two steps down — the optimal height to stand eye to eye. Both breathing heavy, but neither looking anywhere near angry. Instead, both looking very much like the other had just hung the moon.
“It gets cold in the castle during winter,” Robin said.
“I’ll wear more layers,” Maria responded. Then, plainly informing the man before her, “I will be brining Wrolf with me.”
“I’ll prepare the guards,” He whispered, a breaths width away from Maria’s own lips now.
Sir Benjamin snatched his arms from the woman holding him at bay, finally getting his voice to carry over the occupants of the room and shouting all the while, “No no no! There will no none of that! Stop it this instance!”
As if just realizing the audience below them, the pair jumped apart. Maria turning to face her uncle with an utterly withering look, and Robin boasting his own look of something crossed between fear and delight. “Sir Benjamin, I believe your niece has just proposed to me,” the young man informed him easily.
This did manage to freeze the older Merryweather in his tracks as he looked to his niece, then to the de Noir boy again, “Er, yes. It would sound that way.”
Robin’s smile morphed into something devious and in complete character for his clan’s reputation. He turned to Maria, who was staring at her uncle, “But, as to not insult the Lady, I would like to ask you for your blessing before I give my response.”
“For all the times to attempt civility…”
“ Oh — Well,” Sir Benjamin said, clearing is throat a few times before turning to his niece. “Maria… Is this really what you want?”
“As daft as it may sound, yes. I am rather attached to this ogre.”
“Ogre?”
“Yes.”
“Right,” Sir Benjamin said, at a complete loss for what was currently transpiring, but hoping to regain some order to things immediately, nonetheless. He focused his sight directly back onto Robin. “Well, there is the matter of a chaperon for you two, now —“
His brother-in-law smirk grew into something a little more genuine, even if he was only putting on a show for Maria’s benefit. “Is that your blessing, then?”
Sir Benjamin looked back to Loveday, who was nodding like a mad woman, clutching Ms. Heliotrope and her growing belly and the wild-thing she had rescued, tears tracking down both the women’s faces. “Well, yes, I suppose it is…”
In the time he had spent turned away, Robin and Maria had found themselves meer inches from the other, Maria’s hand firmly on Robin’s cheek, the other’s arms wrapped around a thin waist and…
“Wait! No more of that! I have time to reconsider!”
The young de Noir and Merryweather had spent enough time waiting, it seemed. And, if asked, though Maria did in fact propose to Robin, it was Robin who kissed his fiancée firmly on the mouth for the first time.