Marian's Epiphany

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 2

"What happened? Where's Allan gone?" Marian said, looking around wildly.

She was in the strange vortex again, and scraps of images dashed by her, familiar yet gone too quickly to pinpoint. Her hair whipped around her face, and her stomach lurched.

"Where am I?" she called fearfully.

"In the place in-between, of course," Much said matter-of-factly from beside her.

Marian looked at him, startled, then did a double-take. He was dressed as he had been in Bonchurch, when he'd been a short-lived earl. His tunic and matching hose were made of luxurious silk in crimson and cream, and his strawberry hair curled around his ears, unencumbered by his habitual cap.

"Much!" Marian exclaimed.

Much shrugged. "Kind of," he replied.

Marian shot him a look. "What do you mean, kind of? You either are or you aren't."

"I'm the ghost of Christmas Present," he told her simply, then turned away from her and Marian realised that they were back in Acre, watching Robin as he crouched on the sandy ground beside Marian's inert body.

It was odd, seeing herself lying there, while Marian herself stood yards away, watching.

I don't look well at all, Marian thought to herself, trying to avoid staring at the sword that protruded from her stomach. But it was difficult not to look. Blood stained the front of her white dress, and Djaq was working hard, trying to stem the bleeding.

"I'm going to die, aren't I?" she said to Much.

"Well, that depends," Much replied, and Marian huffed.

"If you're going to be as mysterious as Allan was, you might as well go," she said sharply, and Much grinned.

"Oh no, Marian. I'm not done yet, and neither are you."

"But what does that even mean?" Marian said. "Am I going to die, or aren't I?"

"Do you want to?" Much asked her.

Marian looked at Robin, beside her on the ground. He was crying, and his tears had left tracks in the desert dust on his cheeks. He clutched at her hands and kept up a steady stream of words, inaudible to Marian from where she stood.

"No," she murmured. "No, I don't."

Djaq spoke sharply, and Will and the other Much hurried over, taking their places on either side of Marian's body and reaching out to help.  Robin, by this time, was sobbing out his words, concentrating all of his attention on Marian's drawn face.

"What is he saying?" the other Marian wondered aloud.

"Let's see, shall we," said the Much beside her, and he touched her arm.

And then, everything changed.

***

Robin

I think I've always loved you. Right from the first moment I ever laid eyes on you, when you were just eight years-old and I caught you attempting to steal my bow during the Council of Nobles at Nottingham Castle. You had a mind of your own even then, and kicked me on the shin when I reprimanded you. The impertinent look on your sweet little face made me laugh out loud, even as my shin throbbed from your vicious attack. After a moment, you laughed too, and from that moment onwards, we were inseparable.

It seemed only natural that we were eventually betrothed. Nobody existed for either of us, and once you were of an appropriate age, I approached your father and asked for your hand. I couldn't wait for you to be mine, but I was determined to do things right by you, even as you pushed for us to take things further. I wanted to show your father that I was worthy of you.