The day after, at the first lights of the day, Robin started waking up. He could feel he was leaning on a warm, fuzzy body, and started thus moaning: "Mmmmph… Little John… You know what… This time my dreams have outdone themselves… I even dreamt me and Marian still are both alive and well, we have kits, and all together were successfully taking over the Castle of Nottingham…"
Marian woke up, huffy and unnerved: "Arrête de parler de rêves! C'est tout real, et tu doit être content d'avoir fait si grand enterprise!" ["Don't talk about dreams ever more! It's all real, and you must be happy to have reached such an accomplishment!"]
"Oh, sorry, Mari… I have to adjust to this new reality… And sometimes have problems with doing so: what if I…", and suddenly stopped.
"If you?..."
"I cannot say it, but…" His voice trembled: "lose you again and for good?..."
Marian's eyes filled with sadness: "If that's the problem, you want to be prepared for the worse, than do what you know it's best for you… But if I have to be sincere, I once dreamt of you as a dead tod."
"When?"
"Think was the night you challenged Guy – I almost could have seen you being bashed and slaughtered almost to death like it was in real life, and suddenly woke up, afraid I just lost you…"
"Marian, that night I actually almost died… And when I was closest to the moment, you appeared, and told me it wasn't the time."
Such was their bond, telepathy sometimes seemed to happen between them. And that was the occasion: it wasn't time for Robin to leave this world, because his family needed him.
Speaking of which, the kits were waking up, and it was time to show them their mother's birthplace:
"Hello, offspring of us!", greeted them Robin. "I'm waiting for you to fully awake, and then we'll visit our first home! Let's start with the wardrobe, can we?"
"Surely, Robin. Let's see if something have changed…"
They opened the doors, and while the kits were anxious to see what was inside, their parents were shocked: it was a time capsule.
"Marian, so, that's right… You kept my reward poster in your cabinet! And that was at cost of your own life!"
"Yes, darling – If I couldn't see you in person, at least I needed to see your portrait."
"And was me being a thief not a problem for you?..."
"Robin, you at least only robbed corrupts, tyrants and criminals… I saw you as more of a vigilante than a deranged thug, and I was so happy to see someone was trying protect innocent commoners… Speaking of which, I think nobles were much worse thieves than you were, mooching of their living on tributes imposed on the hard work of the population: they claimed to be the 'bellatores', the warriors, but even in war the worst, riskiest positions were for the 'paesants', as they called them… Uncle Richard was a rare exception, always on the frontline and eager to respect the honor and value of worthy opponents like he and Saladin did with each other… But the rest of them were horrible slobs, and when you started slowly becoming one of them too, after our marriage, I was horrified."
"But you still were a noble, and always thought you deserved better than a life on the run in the depth of a forest…"
"No, Robin, I was never a noble. Not at least as commonly thought. They even tried sending me to London to 'turn me into proper nobility', that is, to shame me into submission to this system, then closed me into this very tower, only for me to be let out to either serve as bait for you or to accept an arranged marriage with Guy, actually one of the very worst of the worst of the nobles, but luckily you helped me escaping at the first occasion. I actually preferred by far remaining the Queen of Sherwood for life, than returning to be a Marion Dubois like there are dozens of them in this country alone!"
Robin was delighted her beloved one had been able seeing the problems with her social status with a critical eye, and put herself in discussion when necessary. But still he had problems with his own:
"Well, but about me feeding the poor through robbing the rich…"
"Ok, maybe the mean wasn't the best, but I could see your good intentions. You can always correct the means of a well-intentioned person, but if the intentions are bad, the person is rotten to the core. And trust me, I loathed being among nobles because so many of them were just thugs with some deep pockets: just think about Guy, if he couldn't have me, he'd never felt even the slightest hint of sadness if I, then a vixen carrying a litter of seven in her womb, would have been horrendously murdered in front of you…"
Marian's passionate speech was interrupted by the sight of the dresses: they still were there since she escaped with Robin from the Archery Tournament, and despite being dusty and in some points nibbled by moths, they still were there.
"Mother, you were doing great… Why did you stopped?", asked Eleonore, a sensible and sweet girl despite the years passed in the forest in a semi-feral state.
"Annabelle… The friend which died for me…" answered Marian, while falling on her knees and having her eyes filled by tears, "not only was she a seamstress, but many the dresses I wore in youth were sewn by her hand. Both my favorite one, that lavender dress I was wearing during the archery tournament and the 'night of the waterlily ring', and our wedding dresses were by her."
Robin gasped. He never knew the heroine he basically owed his whole family to, and never even knew they were wearing dresses by her the day of their wedding. His eyes too filled with tears, and hugged Marian, trying to comfort her.
But they actually both were feeling sad, and even partially guilty, for her death: she clearly was close enough to Marian she had been able to mimic her friend, but had not the combat experience the warrying Sherwood couple had, and when the assassins attacked she wasn't able to escape their fury like the two of them did the day of the archery tournament: she had no experience in how to, and decide when it was the moment to fight, or even to flight, which is actually also a skill which requires some practice to be mastered: she just froze, and paid it being murdered. The two vixens exchanged some words about the plan, and Marian tried to advice the seamstress on what to do: but talking about something is a thing, doing it is unfortunately an altogether different affair.
"And no one mourned her death?", asked Robin.
"Well, the days we were preparing to enact the plan she was saying her costumers she might have had to move… It's a normal thing, and everyone thought she either was hired by now-King John as her official tailor at court, or she found a husband and was going getting married… Then thing, starting with her murder, started go completely wrong, and no one evidently paid attention…"
The whole family stayed in silence for some moments, mourning the tragic self-sacrifice of their heroine, then started praying for her soul. After another silent moment, Marian gazed again at her old dresses, while Robin tried introducing her another hard news:
"My darling, I have to confess you… Remember all of those dresses I bought you?"
"Yes, Robin."
"Little John gave them to the poor, so they can made dresses for themselves and their kids out of them. I was able to save our wedding dress, which still should be in the chateau, but had to hide them carefully, and now I cannot even remember where I put them…"
"He did the right thing. I don't need that much. Those old ones are enough. Let's try one, I cannot even remember last time I changed my dresses…"
The dress was in blue brocade, came from Constantinople, and decorated with golden arabesques. It clearly had a former glory in it: but just a faint trace was now preserved, while the edge were now tattered and the colors had faded. It was little upgrade from the rags she had worn until the previous day: but as long as they served their purpose, it didn't matter. Marian couldn't remember if it also was made by her friend: if so, dressing it was a way to honor her memory.
"And the escoffion? And the shoes?", asked Robin, willing to help his beloved one in her clothing.
"I don't need a hat, and about shoes… I discovered bare feet provide a better grip on the ground."
"Agree, most warriors I knew did just that in battle… Now let's get down, I need to meet Johnny and explore the rest of the castle."
While saying that, Robin made the bundle he took from Friar Tuck's rectory sliding into the wardrobe, than closed it while winking to the kits, which immediately understood: it was clear he wanted to make a present to Marian, and no one could reveal that to her.