Seth was crying.

Somewhere between dreaming and wakefulness, Robin vaguely wondered why Much didn't get up and attend to the crying infant. Or Will. Will, being the oldest child in his family, was good with babies. Pretty soon Allan would start complaining and maybe even hold Seth upside down again. But he didn't, and Seth continued to cry, pulling Robin further and further awake.

Get up, a voice within his head told him. Don't let the baby cry.

It wasn't Seth and he wasn't in Sherwood, Robin understood at once, jolted awake with the shock of realization. It was his own tiny daughter, only hours old, crying in a cradle in his bedchamber in Locksley Manor. Marian, exhausted from the thirty-six hour labor yet too excited to sleep afterwards, had been given a mild sleeping draught by Matilda, and couldn't wake up though she seemed to be trying, her head tossing restlessly on her pillow.

Robin leaped out of bed and scooped his daughter up into his arms, feeling waves of love flood his heart. "Shh," he told her, giving her the tip of his little finger to suck on. Ellen took the finger in her tiny mouth and stopped crying, her slate blue eyes seeming to stare contentedly back into her father's.

Matilda had told him that newborns were unable to focus their vision, yet Robin could swear his own tiny daughter was looking back at him, straight into his eyes and all the way into his soul. His smile was both radiant and awestruck.

"We need to let your mother sleep," he told Ellen gently, feeling an even greater love for Marian. "She fought bravely, bringing you into the world. I'm glad you're here."

The baby was a miracle, Robin knew. Marian, having lost their unborn son when Gisbourne ran her through with his sword in the Holy Land, was not medically thought to be able to conceive, let alone carry a child full term, then deliver one so beautiful and perfect.

And hungry. Robin's little finger failed to satisfy Baby Ellen's hunger pangs, and she spat it out and lifted her cries again, louder than before.

Hearing the cries through a groggy sleep, Marian forced herself awake, and saw Robin lightly bouncing their baby in his arms, trying unsuccessfully to quiet her so that Marian could continue sleeping. Never had her husband looked so handsome to her as he did this moment, holding their daughter. She sat up against the pillows and held out her arms.

"You're awake," Robin said, over the baby's cries.

"Let me have her," Marian offered. "She needs more than your finger, I believe."

Robin placed the noisy bundle in his wife's arms, and watched in wonderment as Marian pulled back her nightdress and helped the infant latch on, as Matilda had taught her to do.

"Any peasant can do it," Matilda had fondly scolded, "without instruction. It's only lords and ladies, for all your education, who know nothing."

Marian's face wore a quick grimace before relaxing into a beautiful ease. "You don't think that sleeping draught I drank will hurt her, do you?" Marian asked, with motherly concern.

"Matilda wouldn't have given it to you, if it would," Robin assured her, awestruck by the sight of Marian nourishing their child. "With any luck, it might make her sleep a bit longer. I was up, too, you know, the entire time she was being born. I'm tired, Marian."

"Poor you." She smiled teasingly up at him, over their baby's head.

"I wasn't comparing my staying up, to what you went through."

"Of course not."

"You're alright now, aren't you?" he asked, anxiously.

Marian could not know the agonies Robin had endured, first being banished by Matilda and only hearing Marian's cries. Then, hours later, with Marian's life in danger, he was allowed into the presence of her suffering, but was unable to do more than hold her hand or wipe her brow. Both of their mothers had died in childbirth, and Robin could not bear the possibility of losing Marian again, already having endured months believing her dead.

But here she was now, weak and tired but radiant and beautiful, nourishing their baby and loving him with her glances.

"You're not disappointed she's a girl, are you?" Marian asked.

Robin sat on the bed and placed his hand over Marian's, supporting Baby Ellen's head. He marveled at the softness of her hair through Marian's spread fingers. "I couldn't be more pleased," he answered honestly, choked with emotion. "She's perfect, Marian."

"Isn't she? I think we both wanted a boy, but she's precious. She looks like you, Robin."

He laughed. "I think she looks like a little wizened old man, for now anyway. Does that hurt?"

"What? Your insult to our beautiful child, or my feeding her? It isn't pleasant, but I love it. She's asleep! Should I wake her up, to burp her?"

"I don't know. Just pat her back, I think, and hope she burps. Would you like me to do it?"

"I want to hold her awhile longer." Marian leaned back, and held the baby on her shoulder, tentatively patting her back and hoping to hear a burp. "How long is this supposed to take?"

"I have no idea. If you get tired, I'll take over."

"You want to hold her, don't you? I'm glad. Here, take her. I'm not having any luck."

Marian handed Robin their baby, then watched the two of them with shining eyes. "I wish my father could be here," Marian wistfully confessed.

Robin smiled sympathetically. "He's looking down from Heaven, proud of you. I understand now why he was so hard on me, having a daughter myself now."

"I always thought he treated you politely."

"He did, when you were with me. But he gave me looks and warnings, always preceded by a stern, 'Young man!' "

"You needed those warnings. You kissed her head!"

"I love her. She's...she's our family, Marian."

"I love her, too. Kiss me?"

Still holding the baby, Robin leaned into Marian to kiss her lips. They broke apart laughing when the baby chose that moment to burp.

"And now we're three," Robin said, grinning. He placed the baby between them on the bed so that he and Marian could admire her together. Marian had not believed she could feel any happier in her marriage or closer to Robin than she already did, but this was a brand new closeness, rich with bliss.

He had been such a patient, loving husband during her pregnancy, making her feel beautiful and adored, when she felt most awkward and uncomfortable. Their love for one another just seemed to grow and grow, and now, as he'd stated, they were three.

But she was far too tired to keep awake, and needed to follow Matilda's advice to rest while the baby slept.

"The greatest adventure is yet to come," she murmured happily, her hand meeting Robin's warm clasp, over their baby's tiny body.