He was broken.

A broken man, lost, without hope of ever finding light again. Buried in darkness.

Marian, his darling Marian – the love of his life – was gone for good, and he had no one to blame but himself. Pain, guilt and anger dominated his world, the feelings ran through his veins like poison, until they managed to tear his very soul apart, leaving nothing of the man he used to be.

Gone was the noble Robin Hood.

He could not even bear to face his men anymore; the mere thought of the word 'merry' made him sick to his stomach. He would never be merry again. How could he? When all the reason for any kind of happiness in his life was buried with Marian, six feet under. Along with their unborn child.

He had been so happy when they had found out Marian was with child, he did not think it was possible for someone to feel so much bliss in one lifetime. Back then everything had been perfect; he had had his wife – his best friend and one true love – and they were going to have a baby.

But duty called, and someone had to steal from the rich so the poor could survive the heavy winter. So he had left Marian in the care of Friar Tuck, safe in their secret hideaway at Sherwood Forest, and set out to King Midas' kingdom. The task was simple enough; 'steal enough gold for everyone to survive'. And since the King had the 'golden touch' it was not fairly difficult to come by it. During the week in which Robin and his Merry Men spent in the kingdom, doing what they best, they were able to assemble more gold than ever before. The amount collected was more than enough to feed the villages on the outskirts of Sherwood and more. The prospect of helping more than they had ever before put silly smiles on their faces, for a long while.

Robin could easily see that there were still several more nobleman estates that held an uncountable amount of gold. He allowed his mind to wonder in daydreams of what that gold could bring him, his wife and their unborn child. A secluded house, hidden from all – even his Merry Men – just for him, his Marian and their boy –yes, a boy, he knew it was silly to predict but something in his gut told him Marian was carrying a boy. That gold could ensure they had enough food to live happily and comfortably. Just a little safe heaven where he could be alone with his family, watching his child grow up and grow old alongside his wife.

It did not seem like a grand wish at the time. After all, that gold was to provide for families such as his own. How could Robin guess that that gold was to be the cause of his misery?

Little did he know of the price he would have to pay for this blasted metal.

The decision to stay a couple more days in the gold infested kingdom was not a difficult one to make. Robin was certain it could not hurt to linger a little more and since he was the leader, his word was law. The noble people from this kingdom had more gold than they could ever count, they would not even realize that they had had some stolen. So Robin decreed that he and his Merry Men would stay for five more days, to steal from a few more houses before they made their victorious way back to Sherwood forest.

Robin would never forgive himself for having made that decision; had he gone back to camp, back to Marian, instead of staying those five extra days, she might have lived. He would have found a way to save her. He was sure of it. He would have faced the devil himself in order to cure her, steal from whomever it was necessary in order to help her pull through her illness.

But how could he have known that while he was laughing at nobleman's stupidly, laughing at how easy it was breaking into their lavish homes, that his wife had fallen ill and was at death's door?

He would never forget the day he had gotten back to camp after what the Merry Men and Robin himself referred to as 'their most profitable adventure ever'. They had arrived making the biggest ruckus in history, banging pans together and shouting to announce their victorious arrival. He had entered Marian's tent so eager to hold her, kiss her and tell her he had secured enough for their future, that everything was going to be alright for them, he nearly tripped on his way in.

But the sight that had met his eye had almost made his heart stop beating altogether. Robin felt his blood go cold when he saw his darling wife laying on her coot, her pale beige dress ruined with blood. She was unconscious and Friar Tuck was at her side holding her hand and muttering prayers.

She was pale, so very pale. She looked too thin and too small, not like his Marian at all. Nothing like the feisty, headstrong maiden who had confronted him about stealing from her. Not a resemblance to the passionate and determined young woman he had saved from an arranged marriage and married himself only two years prior. Nothing like his beautiful, beaming, pregnant wife whom he had left behind in camp just twelve days ago.

His world started to fade away, the vibrancy of life fading, as the red that stained Marian's dress, the green of the forest floor, and the yellow on the coins that fell from his pockets started to loose their colour. Suddenly everything was black and white, all colour drained away from his reality. Now all he saw were shades of grey.

He could only make out Friar Tuck's distant words as he rose from beside Marian to meet Robin and tried to explain what had happened during his absence;

Marian had contracted an odd illness…

Maybe due to a sudden change in weather…

We were not worried; it was just a fever, she seemed all right, she said she was not feeling so bad…

But five days ago she took a turn for the worse, started getting delirious and hallucinating…

An unforgiving fever, which would not break, cries and wails of pain erupted constantly from her lips…

He did everything he could but-

Robin stopped listening, he did not want to know the details of what had happened; his only concern was how to fix this.

But then Robin's hearing focussed again at the mention of his child. He noticed then that the fat healthy 6-month bump Marian had carried was no more and Robin gave into the tears that had been pooling in his eyes. The Friar explained of how Marian had gone into premature labour, as he finally took enough courage and strength to approach his wife with almost undead steps. Friar Tuck had tried everything he could to save them both, but his child simply had not been ready for this world just yet, too small, and too fragile to leave his mother's womb.

Marian's life had been hanging by a thread and her child had had no hope.

And she had known; Marian had known she had lost her child. A mother always knows, for the first day she would weep and weep, calling out to Roland in between her cries of pain, her condition only worsening by the loss of her child. She had fallen asleep then – out of exhaustion, her efforts gaining her nothing but sorrow and agony - and ever since that day, her only words had been to call out for Robin, her husband, her heart.

Robin fell to his knees beside his dying wife, once filled with life and joy, now pale and fragile. He was unable to utter a single word, quite certain he was barely breathing as the tears streamed freely from his eyes. Her own dark set opened slowly then, she looked so tired with sweat mingled with dried blood prickling her forehead.

Robin tried to say her name, managed to open his mouth but no sound would resonate, he was unable to speak, incapable of moving. Her now bony hand rose to cup his right cheek, it was humid and hot but Robin did not care, for she was the love of his life and he was getting to look at her beautiful eyes once again. For a moment, a glimpse of a moment in time, he felt hope that with his return would somehow help her get better, she would pull through it, she was going to survive, even if the reality before his eyes told him otherwise. She had the softest of smiles on her lips as she whispered her last word; 'Robin'.

For a second the weak sound of his name leaving her lips had cracked up a tiny smile on Robin's, his chest swelling with love and devotion. But it quickly faded in concert with her hand, when it lost contact with his skin, dropping lifeless on the floor. Her breath left her, the little colour that had remained in his world faded when he looked upon her once striking eyes, that had remained opened, staring at him, now devoid of life.

For a while, he could not move, he could not cry, and he was fairly certain he could not even breathe. He just stared right back at her, watching the track a tear that had fallen from her eye wet her skin for the last time.

His beautiful wife was gone, lost to him forever.

His child was dead, he would never see him grow.

Both the lights of his life faded away, everything was dark and cold and yet Robin's soul burned.

When he felt Friar Tuck's hand on his shoulder, he snapped and broke down as if awoken from a trance. He clutched Marian's lifeless body to his chest, never wanting to let her go, not quite believing that she was truly gone.

He had lost everything; his wife, his child and for what?

For his people? His men? The gold?

Robin vowed that he would never touch gold again, he would never steal again, and if this was the price to pay for being an honourable man, for helping others without ever asking for anything in return, then he did not want to be that anymore.

As something inside him snapped forever, Robin could not bear to face his men anymore, or any of the people who inhabited their small camp. Gone was the carefree, boyish, fierce leader. He felt hollow and alone. Even as the men he deemed as brothers tried to help him, tried to comfort him through his mourning when they had lost a loved one too. But he could not look them in the eye.

It had all been his fault, his orders had doomed his love, had ripped away his happiness. If he had returned five days ago, when her fever had taken a worst turn, then he would have been able to find a cure. He would have walked through hell to save her and their unborn have done anything-

Anything

But now. there was nothing he could do. They were both dead now, covered in earth and dirt, and it was all his fault. Robin had no one to blame but himself, his greed, his pathetic enthusiasm, his reckless attitude. What kind of leader was he that took decisions so lightly? He did not feel himself worthy of having a stray dog follow him, let alone a band of men that had not been touched by the sin his soul was now infested with.

And so he had left. He had taken his bow and arrows and simply vanished after burying his wife, vowing never to return to Sherwood Forest, its memories and its ghosts. He simply walked away with no destination in mind; his only objectives were to put as much distance between himself and this forest and to wipe away the image of his dead wife looking back at him from his memory, forever.

Whatever it took.

…

The following six months had been a blur. Robin managed to distance himself as much as he could from the place he used to call home. But no physical distance seemed to wipe away the images of that fateful day, they haunted his every conscious and unconscious moments. Every step he look was filled with regret and in every dream he had he relived his wife's last moments.

The day he had lost his soul, ever since then he had felt hollow and with no reason to live, so Robin merely existed. He still wondered why was it that he had not taken his own life in order to end his misery. He nearly did it a few times, when the pain was too much, when the regret was just too much to bear. But every time he was about to do it something stopped him, an even darker voice inside his head told him he was not allowed to end his life. He was not worthy of a reunion with his family, for he had slathered them and he deserved to agonize for it. Death was too swift, too good for him. Therefore, he would suffer for the sake of his wife and child, whose blood he had on his hands.

He had wondered from forest to forest, from kingdom to kingdom, always staying clear of roads and cities; the busiest places were the worst for him, for in every woman he looked at, he saw Marian, in every man, he saw his good merry brothers and every child-

People he had lost forever.

…

A further six months passed just as quickly. In every glimpse of his reflection, Robin could barely recognize the man who looked back at him. His soul felt heavy, as if he had aged years, the harsh lines on his face which his unkempt beard did not conceal spoke of the same truth. Robin was so changed he was certain he would not be recognized as the man he was a year ago by anyone who might have known him then. Sometimes he even wondered if his eyes had changed to a darker shade of blue, the light having faded away day by day.

It was not every night that Robin would cry himself to sleep anymore, he seemed to have run out of moist in his body to accomplish it, having shed so many tears he wondered how he had not fallen ill. If he had, he would have probably succumbed to the disease, having no strength nor reason to fight back, but death was still too good for him, so it did not dare touch him.

Remorse and pain were still his daily companions, his world was still colourless, black and white being all he saw. However, something different started stirring in him when he had travelled to King Leopold's kingdom. He had faint memories of having visited this kingdom a few times in the past to do his job, but this inexplicable something clutching in his chest had never been there before. For some mysterious reason he could not bring himself to leave quite yet, even after having been there for a full month. He had never lingered in a single kingdom for that long, not even back in his days leading the Merry Men.

Robin had ceased in believing in any of higher force after what had happened to Marian but it seemed as if a strong pull kept him there. Kept him near the King's castle of all places, sometimes in it's woodsy outskirts, somethings in nearby villages.

This kingdom was different; he was able to bring himself to walk through the streets of little villages and he could even manage to enter taverns and be in the presence of others (although he would never buy anything; he had vowed to never touch gold again and such things as drinks and bread were paid for with gold only).

It was inside a tavern when news reached his ears that King Leopold had been murdered in his own bed. Apparently, one of his most trusted servants – some say he was a close friend even - had a vicious, poisonous, two-headed snake bite him whilst he slept.

A horrid ending for a man who was said to be such a benevolent and kind king.

Kind and yet foolish to keep such friends at arm's length.

…

He would never know how she was able to track him down, but she had.

He did not know how she worked out who he was – he had not uttered his real name in a little over a year – but she knew.

It was precisely two days after the King's passing when black knights had come for him. All clad in black and metal, they outnumbered Robin in a ridiculous scale, he was hardly able to reach out for his bow before he felt cold metal make contact with the skin of his neck. They unceremoniously grabbed him, dragging him away from his secret hideaway in the woods towards the castle. The only remark close to an explanation was "the Queen's orders".

"The Queen?" He had wondered in confusion at first.

He remembered how he had heard King Leopold's wife was long gone, had been dead for more than a decade now, struck suddenly by a rare disease. Much like his Marian. He was sure for a moment he was to be taken to Leopold's daughter, Snow White, his only heir.

But then, his mind was drawn back to a conversation he overheard in a tavern only a week ago. Two pageboys had been commenting on the King's birthday celebration, about how the festivities had not been grand, but it had been cheerful and moving. The king's speech concerning his late wife and appraising his daughter's striking similarity to her beauty had brought guests and staff alike to tears.

Back then, Robin had envied the King for having had only beautiful memories of his wife and a daughter who resembled her so. A living piece of memory of his lost love who could bring sunlight into his life with her mother's smile.

Robin had been left with nothing.

When the pageboys had discussed the very much alive second Queen, Robin had only just caught a few words, having been wrapped up in thoughts of the family he never had and poison-like jealousy. Searching deep in his mind Robin was able to recollect how the young men chatted about the Queen. They both agreed that even though the first Queen had been fair, the second one was most certainly the fairest of them all, her striking beauty being like nothing either had ever seen before. Even if that contradicted the King's own opinion, the pageboys were quite adamant that the second Queen's beauty was unrivalled.

A sudden curiosity struck him, as he was being dragged against his own will. And curiosity was not something he had felt in the longest time. So many questions started to form in his head, a thrilling rush of adrenaline pumped through his veins. What could the Queen possibly want with someone like him? The grieving Queen nonetheless, one who had only lost her husband two days ago. Had he been found out? Was he to finally pay for his crimes? Was he to be executed?

As they approached the castle his curiosity had only increased, his mind wondering back to the pageboy's words; 'The Queen's beauty was unrivalled'.

What does the fairest of all women look like? Robin wondered.

He felt a sudden thrill at the knowledge that he was just about to find out.

When Robin first laid his eyes upon the figure reclining in that chaise longue, his black and white world gained a new colour. The colour of the velvet covering her curvaceous body and painting her supple lips...

Red