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At least -- and this was Marian's first thought, shocked and cold, hurt and bleeding as she was, and she would later hate herself for it... But. But, at least Robin had died in her arms.
*
"Maid Marian?"
The soft voice of Lady Kluck seemed to cut through the darkness. Marian didn't want to startle. It was just Lady Kluck, and a night like constant others they had spent before in the castle, and even a few times in the Sherwood Forest camp.
"Friar Tuck had said he had seen you to bed," Lady Kluck said.
"He..." Marian paused. She had no memory of Friar Tuck doing that. But it seemed like something he would have done; and he wouldn't have lied to Lady Kluck. One didn't lie to her, and also, Friar Tuck was a man of God. "I suppose he has," Marian said, instead of voicing that, and tried to sound sure.
Lady Kluck didn't look like she believed it. She stepped inside the tent, letting the flap fall closed behind her. Now that the light that had come out from outside was gone, suddenly Marian noticed that she had been sitting in darkness.
"Oh," she said, suddenly flustered. She had been raised better than that. And even if this was Lady Kluck, and even if they were in a forest, living in a tent, even if they were hiding from Prince John, even then what they still had were manners. Marian quickly rose to light the little lamp. "Let me just--"
But Lady Kluck was faster. She put her hand on Marian's shoulder and pressed her down onto the log again. Marian went with it, yet said, "but--"
"No but," Lady Kluck interrupted. Her voice was firm, as was the continuing pressure on Marian's shoulder. Marian peered at her, but couldn't make out her features that well. Since there was no light. Marian should really... But she couldn't even finish the thought. As if Lady Kluck knew that she would try again, she held Marian down. "You are going to bed now, as will I."
"But you came over here," Marian said, reasonably. It was quite late and Lady Kluck had been up too many hours in the last days. She was bound to be tired, running around all the time and then staying up even longer, just to come to Marian. "I have time now. It's not like-- I have time."
In the darkness, Lady Kluck's face did something Marian could not decipher. But before she could ask, could offer the light of the lamp again and maybe a chat with some after-midnight tea from the fire pot outside, Lady Kluck shook her head. "No, no, no," she said, "no, bed for you. You should sleep."
She pushed at Marian's shoulder and Marian finally stood up and stepped away from the log and towards the bed. Only then her legs felt weak suddenly, all wobbly and not like her own legs at all. She swayed, just for a second, then it was fine again. Just the blood rush, though Marian of course was no physician. But she had been sitting there... a long time, she thought.
She held her back straight and her tail tucked high above the ground as she went over to the bed, slowly and mindful of the darkness. The sheets were tousled, but Marian couldn't remember if she already had been lying down that evening or if they were like that from... another night. She didn't look back at Lady Kluck, because she would be justified in the criticism on her face. This tent was Marian's home. She should be keeping it nice, if Lady Kluck was running all the errands and doing everything to make Marian's life outside the tent nice.
"I'm sorry it is so messy," she said carefully and brushed her hands over the sheets. Her body felt out of tune, as if her brain was late on every single movement by half a second, so when she leaned forward, she almost toppled onto the bed.
"Maid Marian!" Lady Kluck said. She must have rushed forward, because as soon as Marian had caught herself and blinked through her pounding head and the haziness in her eye, Lady Kluck was there. Carefully, she helped ease Marian onto the bed. She flipped up the sheets and let them fall down softly by themselves onto Marian. They fell a little too high and Marian winced at the brush of them against the bandage over her left eye.
It was swollen, so even the light touch hurt, but the physician had seen to Marian and patched her up. She knew she probably looked horrible now, one eyed and everything, and even in ratty clothes because she hadn't managed to take anything with her when she had followed... Had gone into the forest. The physician had said that they should wait for tomorrow, as he was old and it was too dark, and the wound too fresh. But at least with the physician also having practiced at the shooting competition, he now knew how to treat wounds from an arrow the best way.
Marian pushed down the covers carefully and saw Lady Kluck looming over her.
"We need to look at your eye tomorrow," Lady Kluck said. "Ask what should be done. You can't just leave it if it hurts like that..." She trailed off. Marian didn't argue; they would discuss it in the morning. Lady Kluck sounded tired now as well. Marian should let her get to bed.
So she just answered, "Fine."
Belatedly, Marian realized that she had no idea where Lady Kluck was staying. She felt a hot flush in her face; how absentminded must she have been, to not ask this before? "Wait," she called, and Lady Kluck paused at the front of the tent. She already had one hand on the flap. A sliver of moonlight came through, illuminating parts of her eye and her beak.
"Where are you staying?," Marian asked and scooted to the side. The bed was big enough for two, certainly. "I can't let you sleep outside, please."
Lady Kluck smiled at Marian, but not really: With the moonlight coming in, Marian could full well see how tired Lady Kluck looked, and not just physically. The smile didn't reach her eyes at all. "I took Little John's old tent," she answered.
Marian swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She wanted to ask Lady Kluck for some water, but then Marian realized that she should go and get it herself, and her body just was too tired right now. Her legs trembled and she just didn't feel like she could ever use another muscle. "Good," she said instead.
Lady Kluck nodded. "Yes," she said quietly. "Good."
For a moment, they both stayed where they were, not saying anything. Marian felt her eyelid beginning to drop. Under the covers, she curled up a bit, laying her tail over her hip and belly so she could hug parts to her chest. Her eye throbbed and she found it strange how she hadn't noticed it at all until the sheets had touched it. Marian had no idea what of that Lady Kluck could see with that little beam of light coming inside the tent, but shifting into a more comfortable position now would surely draw the attention from Lady Kluck.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Lady Kluck finally said and then she was gone and the flap of the tent closed behind her.
The darkness inside the tent felt deeper, darker even, than before, pressing down on Marian as if it wanted to keep her here forever. It felt toxic, like bad smoke, like it was burning her lungs, ringing loudly in her ears, all at once. Marian had no idea how she had managed to ignore it until now, how she had not been bothered at all before. All the sounds from outside were muffled, as if Marian was submerged under water, unable to escape. Her heart began to race, a drumming in her own ears, until it got so loud that it overpowered the rattling and the wind in the leaves from outside.
She couldn't stay like this.
Marian jumped up. She almost fell when she got tangled up in the sheets, but managed to drag herself forward. She must look so inappropriate right now, her fur all messy and her tail hair probably even worse, and her dress rumpled. But she couldn't care less right now. She fought through the darkness, limbs heavy and slow, but she managed to get forward, step after step. Lady Kluck would still be close.
"Lady Kluck!," Marian called, as she reached the tent flap. She pulled at it. "Can I maybe stay at--"
Outside, the fire was burning bright still, there was a pot on it with something that Marian could smell was tea from here, and there sat Friar Tuck, nodding off next to the warmth, huddled in his cloak, and next to him, barely above the ground, lay two figures, covered by a simple sheet, and someone must have pulled out the arrows, because those would have been noticeable, one body pierced with arrows, and one just killed by a single shot, and Marian knew those shots and those bodies, and she knew-- she knew--
Marian remembered.
Marian stepped inside and let the flap close again. the cloth fluttered against her fingers until she drew them back. She was shaking and now she remembered why. Marian pressed her hands to her body, wrapping them around her torso, and felt her sharp claws dig into her fur.
It was dark inside the tent, yes, but this was better than seeing Robin and Little John outside, and knowing that the man who was responsible for their death was still out there, while they were stuck here: Robin and Little John both long departed for a better life, and Marian was hiding in a tent, shivering just at this little brush with reality.
Marian let out a breath and then everything fell into place. Tomorrow, there would be discussions about the camp and about what to do. Tomorrow, she would have to tell the people of Nottingham what had happened. Tomorrow, Lady Kluck and Marian would talk.
The darkness was all around her now, holding her close, and Marian embraced it. Robin had spent so many years out here in Sherwood Forest; he must have been a close friend with the darkness, with the shadows, with hiding, waiting, planning.
Today, Marian would sleep.
But starting tomorrow, she would get her revenge.
*
Her whole body was aching, in places she had never before even considered might be able to hurt so much. She didn't feel tired, that was the strange part, but it seemed like everything not her mind had just shut down. The ground actually felt comfortable. Like this, she could watch the blooming of the trees above her. Winter had come and gone and spring was fast approaching now. Marian would be so glad to get rid of the heavy clothes and as she spread out a bit more to get more heat from the sun, she realized how much she must have changed.
The Maid Marian she had still been last summer would have never laid down on the ground like this. Wouldn't have spread her arms and felt like an eagle, her tail kind of restlessly shifting under her. Wouldn't have gotten her clothes dirty; wouldn't probably even be wearing this kind of clothing, the edges ripped and the hood pulled halfway over her face. The Maid Marian from last summer also wouldn't only have one eye left.
She felt like a rogue, like a bandit, and she knew that wasn't going to change until she held Prince John's head in her hands.
The camp was quiet around her. With spring just around the corner, there were more birds again, and since the camp itself was pretty empty, with just Marian and Lady Kluck living in it, and sometimes Friar Tuck, that was the only sound. Marian couldn't appreciate any of it.
Though her body hurt from the training and she should have been more exhausted, she wasn't. Instead, it felt like there was a fire in her heart, burning bright, an anger surging through her head and her heart.
Marian focused on that anger, balled her hands to fists and pushed herself up. She would rest later. Now she would eat whatever Lady Kluck had managed to cook for them, and then she would ask for more sword fighting lessons. They weren't Lady Kluck's favorite, but Marian had quickly discovered that she was skilled in almost all parts of a battle.
And Marian needed to know sword fighting for when she finally was ready to go up against Prince John. At the thought, Marian felt her heart pick up, but she forced herself to stay calm. She knew that she wasn't good enough yet.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear Lady Kluck coming close and startled when she heard, "If you want some of the stew, it's finished now."
Forcing herself to breathe normally, Marian nodded, still on the ground. "Yes, I would like that," she answered. At the thought of food, her stomach clenched. When she had been at court, she had eaten so little, but now that she practiced running and sword fighting and shooting the bow, she had grown an actual appetite. Lady Kluck hadn't commented on it, but Marian had seen her looks, and then later how she cooked food that would have lasted for a week for both of them before, just for one day.
"I want to practice with the swords later," Marian said as she pushed herself up. She needed to get better.
"Overworking yourself won't help you with your training," Lady Kluck chided. "You are going to need more practice, and even then you won't be able to fight against Prince John's men tomorrow, or the day after." She gentled her voice a bit. "You can't go up against him now."
Marian knew that, she repeated to herself in her head. She knew she couldn't kill him now, and her anger was still burning bright and yet she felt antsy, not right in her skin and she just needed to kill Prince John, and then... But not now. Lady Kluck wasn't saying anything new.
Marian brushed off the dirt of her clothes, even if it didn't make any difference. She stopped halfway, dropped her hands, and had no idea why she had even tried. She needed to get better. She needed to work harder, so that at some point, she would be strong enough; good enough. At least she knew why she was doing this.
She threw a look over to the fire place. Friar Tuck was there, stirring the stew, and Marian was surprised to see him. Day in, day out, they spent their time training, and with the harsh winter the people of Nottingham had stopped coming to the camp. Sometimes, like now, there was Friar Tuck, but Marian didn't mind her training time with Lady Kluck, who was watching her now.
"I will kill him," Marian said. She didn't look away from Lady Kluck's eyes; she didn't dare to. Lady Kluck needed to understand. And what Marian wanted to say was too big for words, at least for all the words in Marian's head. Lady Kluck answered her stare and the world blurred around them, as if it was just them two. "I'll kill him," Marian repeated more quietly, "I will kill him and--"
She wanted to say, 'And Robin will come back.' But she knew that there was no coming back from death, no matter what Friar Tuck said. She needed to sound calm, collected, or Lady Kluck would be gone, back to her family maybe, or to friends in Spain. And Marian was fine with Robin being gone, more than fine, but if she just did this, then maybe, finally, that follow feeling in her chest would go away.
She swallowed. "I'll kill him and then it will finally be over."
For a moment Marian was convinced that Lady Kluck would say something. She didn't though, just nodded, her expression unreadable, and then she gestured for Marian to follow her. The stew smelled delicious, but maybe that was the hunger. Marian didn't care and followed.
*
It took two strikes to take of Prince John's head. Marian had thought that after over a year she would be stronger than that, but the first strike cut the flesh. It left Prince John gurgling, blood gushing out of his mouth and his nose, and his neck, of course. He twitched, as if he wanted to raise his hands and protect himself, as little good as that would do him now. Marian didn't let him either.
The second strike cut the neck, and the head right off.
It rolled down and the body convulsed a few more times, but Marian hardly noticed.
The air was beginning to heat up with the castle mostly on fire, and she would have to go soon to still make it out. Most of Prince John's new guard was still alive because Marian had made it past them more easily this way, even if she had wanted to kill every single one of them. But Lady Kluck had argued against that, that her distracting them would be much easier, so that was the way they had done it. At least Marian had managed to deliver Sir Hiss his rightful punishment.
Marian would leave soon though, before the guards grew too suspicious of the distraction Lady Kluck provided. But this was the moment Marian had waited for. This was the moment she had spent day after day of training on.
Prince John was finally dead.
The sword felt good in her hands, like it belonged there, and she had gotten used to how the string of the bow cut into her shoulder. Marian couldn't help but grin down at Prince John's body. There was a steady buzz in the back of her head, like bees humming, and it made her body shiver with excitement. She had done it.
She had really done it.
Prince John was finally dead and now everything would be good again, everything would be good.
Marian couldn't help the cheer that came from her lips, and the grin that felt like it would split her face. Finally.
Finally!
She turned, breathless, her heart thundering in her chest, to tell Robin--
But, of course, Robin wasn't there. Robin wasn't there to share the joy. Robin wasn't there to marry her and ride off with her, to smile at her and tell her that he loved her.
Marian swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. It wasn't this moment, but maybe the one after or the one before, Marian later wouldn't be able to tell, but she could hear something go hollow, right inside her.
Robin was dead.
Robin had been dead all year, and Marian had known this, Marian had never forgotten, had visited his grave, in between the training, and now Marian had even gotten her revenge for Robin's death, and yet, and yet. Robin was still dead, and all of that could not change this.
It would never be all right again.
Marian's hand holding the sword suddenly felt very, very tired.
*
"Would you like another cup of tea?" The soft voice startled Marian out of her thoughts. They had been empty anyway, meaningless musings on the weather or whatever. She blinked and turned to look at Mother Rabbit. She looked kind, like she always did. Marian hadn't really looked at her since they had come here to visit, but now she could see how much those one and a half years had aged her. The worry lines along her eyes had gotten even more pronounced and she held herself stiffly, as if her back was hurting her.
Even her children had gotten bigger and one of them, the oldest girl, now tugged at her mother's elbow to whisper in a voice that Marian's sharp ears were still able to pick up: "We don't have enough for a second cup, Momma."
Mother Rabbit sighed. "We have enough for us, Sis, then we have enough for our guest," she said kindly and then walked over to the side, to pick up one of her kids so that it didn't get too close to the stove.
But Marian still shook her head. She tried to smile and she was sure it looked pathetic and not worthy of Mother Rabbit's friendly offer, but Marian couldn't do more. She wanted to smile, say thanks, all that, but that seemed so much work. Marian was only here because Lady Kluck had made all that noise about Marian rotting away in an empty camp, in a forest gearing up for spring yet again.
Still, Marian had no idea why Lady Kluck had dragged her here. Why Lady Kluck was even here. During the winter Marian had told her time and time again to rather visit her friends in Spain instead of staying with Marian, but of course Lady Kluck had remained stubborn.
Now she was over in the corner, talking to Friar Tuck. Marian could have joined them, but for what? Instead, she curled up in her corner on her stool, drawing her legs up and her tail under her clothes. She put her hands on the table in front of her and pushed the cup with the rest of lukewarm tea aside to fold her arms, and then lay her head on them.
Lady Kluck and Friar Tuck were still deeply engaged in conversation and they were getting louder; Mother Rabbit was too polite to stare; but from the corner of her eye, Marian could see one of her small boys watch her. Maybe he was fascinated by Marian having only one eye, Marian could imagine that. He looked familiar, the same way his sister had, and Marian realized that he wore the same hat that Robin had worn, and Marian had to look away from him. Skipper? No, Skippy was his name. Yes, she remembered.
Marian swallowed heavily. She wanted to leave again. She wanted to go back to the camp and curl up in her blankets. The darkness in the tent was good, nice and comforting. She didn't need the heat from a fireplace like here and she didn't need kindness or tea. It wasn't like any of that mattered, in the end.
She turned her attention to Lady Kluck to tell her that they should be leaving, and if Lady Kluck didn't want then Marian would go alone, only to catch what they were saying.
"And then he lowered some taxes, yes, but most..." Friar Tuck was saying and he shook his head. He looked even older than he had before, almost totally bald now and while his belly was still round, his other limbs looked too breakable, almost skinny. "No, it doesn't do much good if we can buy candles, but no bread."
"Maybe you could ask him to shift this?" Lady Kluck suggested. She sounded tired as well.
"But to what?," Friar Tuck said softly. "To what? The people need to eat."
Marian couldn't listen to this anymore. "Prince John is dead," she threw in. Both Lady Kluck and Friar John looked up at that and Marian was sure that Mother Rabbit and the children were also watching. She felt like she should sit up straighter, but she didn't. "He is dead," she repeated instead. "Sir Hiss is dead. The Sheriff of Nottingham as well. Why are we still talking about taxes?"
Friar Tuck shook his head and opened his mouth to answer, but Mother Rabbit was faster. "Kings and rulers, Maid Marian," she said softly, "are all the same."
There was a silence in the room, not even the children were making any sound. Then Friar Tuck added, "All except King Richard."
"But he won't come back soon," said Lady Kluck and Friar Tuck nodded in agreement, his mouth turned down.
Marian swallowed. After a few moments, the conversations started up again. Marian looked around the room and then down at the table. Her hands were getting soft again, she realized, after all the training last year, this laying in bed hadn't helped at all with her staying on top of the game. She closed her hand slowly, around the imaginary handle of a sword, just to see if she still did remember.
A tap to her arm startled her out of that thought. Marian looked down and saw one of the children, the girl, Tagalong, standing there. In her tiny paws she was holding a cup of tea. "Here," she said. Her lisp was almost gone with her aging, but still her voice sounded cute and soft. "This is for you."
Marian looked down at the tea and then said, "Wasn't this your last one?"
Tagalong nodded heavily. "But it's fine," she said. "You look sad. You should have it."
And that kindness when Marian didn't even want tea. She smiled and realized that it had been too long. When had Marian even smiled the last time? When had she felt awake, not with her mind muddy and tired all the time? How did Lady Kluck even stand spending time with her? "Thank you," Marian said, and saw Mother Rabbit looking over, a soft smile on her face and Marian...
Marian stood up. Her stool scratched back, a loud sound that brought all other conversation to an abrupt end and now Marian knew she had all eyes on herself. She kept hers on Tagalong though. "Thank you," she repeated. "I wish I had time for another cup; I need to go now though. Give the tea to your mother, yes?" Tagalong looked like she wanted to argue, so Marian added, "She might be very happy about it."
When Marian passed her, she patted Tagalong on the head once, but she didn't look back. She didn't look at Mother Rabbit, or Friar Tuck, or Lady Kluck. Instead, Marian didn't slow down until she was outside. Spring made Nottingham look alive again, even if many shops were still, or maybe again, closed. Marian took a deep breath.
The air smelled clean with the gusts of wind flowing through Nottingham, along the houses and through the streets.
Marian was only a few steps away from the tent when she heard the running behind her. She didn't turn around, only kept up her stride in the direction of Sherwood forest, and let Skippy fall in step beside her.
"Are you..." Skippy said and then broke off, clearly struggling for the words. "I mean, are you-- Can I come? You are...?"
He sounded so eager and Marian took pity on him. She grinned, and she knew she looked fierce like that, scary and hardened and nothing like the playful smile that Robin might have given in a situation like this. But Robin wasn't here.
Robin hadn't been here for a long time now.
What had been here was a ruler looking for taxes and the people of Nottingham were suffering again and even then, even now they had offered Marian their last cup of tea. Something clenched in Marian's heart and didn't let up again. It was fine though.
"Sure, you can come," she said to Skippy. Skippy stared back unblinking and Marian liked him already. She pushed at his head, messing up his hat and he went with the pressure, and then grinned up at her. Yes, Marian liked that. "You know how to shoot a bow?"
"Yes," Skippy answered, still so eager.
Marian bared her teeth, and laughed, and for the first time since Robin's death, she meant it.
"Good," she said. "I bet you can help me rob a few carriages."