WHEN THE STORM IS THROUGH

Inspired by the song from Anastasia, At The Beginning…

Robin/Marian. The generic story, through the years, with a twist. Threeshot.

Because I LOATHE Isabella.

VII.

I knew there was somebody somewhere like me alone in the dark…

Everything was grey. He couldn't see the colours in the forest, in the towns and villages, even in the people he fought to save. The moment her hand had slid down his and he'd felt her pulse stop, the colour had slowly drained out of everything, leaving him with nothing left. And now it had been fifteen years, almost to the day, since he'd fallen to pieces. He wasn't a young man anymore, those days were long gone… but he'd stopped truly being young the moment he'd lost her – she'd been the centre of his life ever since he was thirteen years old, and for her to be gone…

Even now, it hurt to think about it.

Times had changed, John was still on the throne, but the whispers were that it wouldn't be for much longer… He'd regained his position as Lord of Locksley, about five years too late, and Much had been given Bonchurch, and found himself a wife and had two sons… Robin and William. Allan and Kate had gotten married, and last he heard they were living in Knighton, with their children… he wasn't sure where John had gone, but they'd said their goodbyes, and Tuck had disappeared almost as unexpectedly as he had arrived, but that didn't bother any of them much. It had always seemed that Tuck wasn't a permanent fixture.

It had been the hardest time of his life, when the Sheriff and Gisbourne and all remnants of their old, struggling lives had fallen away, and they were expected just to integrate back into the right way of things, stop being outlaws, take back the positions they were owed. Because he had never imagined an end to this all without her by his side in a white dress with a garland of flowers around her head and a sparkle in her eyes. He hadn't imagined a future at Locksley manor without their children running along across the courtyard, tumbling and laughing like he had, so long ago he almost couldn't remember. He hadn't thought about all his friends being happy when he didn't have the one thing that made him happy by his side anymore.

There had been other women… he hadn't been completely alone all those years… he'd known what she would have wanted, too, for him to try and be happy. But there was no one that could make him happy. Women were to drown in, for a short time… he'd made the mistake of thinking he could ever fall for someone else with Isabella, Gisbourne's sister of all people, barely months after Marian's death. He'd fallen into the denial and regret that comes with losing someone you love, and for a few short weeks he managed to delude himself that he had feelings for the pretty young woman who always seemed to say the right thing. But when he'd realised what he was doing… trying so desperately to bury the memory under new memories, that were pale in comparison, he was almost sick… He'd spent time with a widow in Locksley, after he took the manor back… she'd understood him, that he needed to forget for a short amount of time, and he'd understood her when she had to leave, because he couldn't start to care.

So now, he spent most of his time as alone as possible, with just his manservant in the manor with him… it was days like those he could hardly comprehend what had happened. Sometimes he just expected her to walk through the doors of Locksley manor again, with her hair blowing in the spring breeze behind her, a smile bright on her face.

And there was a knock on his door.

VIII.

I know that my dream will live on…

Ysabel shifted from foot to foot as Tess knocked on the door. She clenched and unclenched her fists slowly, and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ears. Lord Robin's manservant showed them through into the receiving room, and Ysabel looked around in mild wonder at the inside of Locksley manor. Coming from a small hut her father had constructed himself in Papplewick, the strong wooden beams and the walls adorned with murals fascinated her.

He came through a door on her right, and he stopped in his tracks when he saw her.

Was his mind playing tricks on him? The girl opposite him looked so much like Marian he couldn't take another step. And the woman standing next to her was familiar somehow, but he couldn't quite place her. Had he finally turned to insanity? He was beginning to think that would be a welcome release.

"Robin." Tess said slowly, bowing her head, and he knew who she was in that moment. "This is Ysabel."

For a moment no one said a word. Ysabel looked from the man in front of her to Tess, and then down at her lap again. When neither of the others said anything, she spoke.

"I'm sorry to intrude like this." She whispered, "But… I think you deserve to know about me… I think you've done the time she wanted you to do… I think… I'm your daughter."

Robin gripped one of the chairs to help him stand. He looked at her slowly, and she could see him counting the years, guessing her age, making the link.

"That isn't possible." He breathed, though as he spoke he realised that it could be… there was that window of time…

Ysabel looked to Tess, and the woman told him everything she had told his daughter. When she was done, neither Ysabel nor her father said a word.

Tess gave a brief nod, and stood up. "I have done all I can." She said slowly. "It is too painful to stay."

She laid her hand over Ysabel's for a moment, and then she left the room. After a long moment, the girl spoke.

"I have a family." She said slowly, "I don't need anything from you. I just… I thought you deserved to know the truth… and I guess… I guess I wanted to meet the legend myself. I'm sorry for wasting your time, Lord."

She started to stand from the table, and his hand came over hers. She stopped in her tracks, and for the first time, their eyes met.

"You look so much like her." He whispered, "I hope you never have to know what it feels like to miss someone this much."

Ysabel didn't say anything, but sunk back into her seat.

"I wish… I wish she'd told me about you." He said slowly, "I understand why she didn't, but I wish… I could have looked after you these past ten years, I could have had a small part of Marian where I've been all alone…"

She squeezed his hand lightly, and a tear fell out of one of his eyes.

"I'm here now." She whispered, and reached out to take his other hand.

IX.

At the end I wanna be standing at the beginning with you.

"Lady Ysabel! We have a carriage waiting for you! Your father… he's asking for you… the physician thinks it's nearly the end." Her housekeeper said, handing her here cloak. She took the cloak, her heart suddenly thudding in her chest.

"I'll take Lord Edward's horse, Mabel. It'll be quicker; I ride faster on my own."

"Even with the baby?"

Ysabel put a hand on the small bump under her dress. "I'll go careful. I have to be there."

The housekeeper gave her a disapproving look, but she nodded slowly. In the five years Lady Ysabel had been married to Lord Edward, his servants had gotten used to her being slightly wild and headstrong. They supposed it came from her father, though in all honesty she was like her mother that way.

She saddled up and kicked off her husband's horse, waving goodbye to her son as she rode like wildfire down towards the Nottingham road. The fear of losing her father was spreading through her, but somehow she remained strangely calm.

When she reached his bedside, it was clear the physician was right. Robin's fever had increased and he was grey-pale, but his eyes flickered open as she entered the room. There were people stood around his bed, people she knew, Allan, Kate, Much, and two men she didn't know, a tall man with skin the colour of tree-bark, and an even taller man with a ragged, wild beard. She nodded to them all, and ran to his side, clasping his hand in hers.

"It's ok, Father. I'm here." she whispered, pressing her forehead against his.

"Marian?" escaped his lips, and her heart sunk.

"Soon…" she whispered, "Shhh… it's Ysabel. I've come… I've come to say goodbye…"

A small smile touched his lips. "Bel." He whispered, and she squeezed his hand, as she had done ten years ago, the day she'd first met him.

"I was allowed ten years of her, and now I've been allowed ten years of you…" his voice was breathy and weak, but she heard him, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I've tried to be a good father…"

She smiled, clasping both his hands in hers. "You've been a wonderful father."

"You… your… your mother would have been so proud of you." He coughed, and his eyes were racked with pain.

Ysabel took one of his hands and placed it against the slight curve of her belly. "If it's a girl, Father, her name is going to be Marian."

Robin smiled again, and this time his eyes drifted shut.

"I'd like that…" he murmured, and his chest heaved one last time, "I love you… you brought the colours back…"

He was standing in a room, and it was somehow familiar, somehow different. The colours seemed brighter than anything he'd seen, even since he'd met his daughter. The sun was shining through the window, and there were leaves on the trees, which didn't make sense, because it was midwinter. He heard a door slam behind him, and he turned around.

There was a figure standing opposite him, dressed in white, her hand clapped over her mouth, staring at him. He stopped short, registering who he was seeing, and realisation crept over him like warmth as he realised what that meant. He took a shaky step towards her and realised his limbs were supple, lithe, like they used to be. He caught his reflection in the mirror across the room – he looked no older than twenty five years old, and she was the same as the day he'd first got down on one knee and proposed, before the crusade, before everything.

He wasn't sure how they made it across the room, but when they reached each other, everything imploded in a second. He clutched her tightly to him, breathing in the scent of her, kissing her face, her hair, her mouth… and she was so real. It didn't seem possible.

"How?"

She smiled at him, tracing the curve of his cheek with her finger. "You're dead, Robin." She whispered, "I was beginning to think you'd never make it here, but you have."
He kissed her lightly. "I'm sorry, Marian."

She laughed. "What for? Look at me… look at us… we're here, now."

"Together." He breathed, and kissed her again, holding her tightly. "A long time in heaven, right?"

She smiled. "Whatever you want to call it." Then she took his hands. "I'm sorry, too, Robin. For not telling you about Ysabel… she's… she's grown up quite beautiful."

He rested his forehead gently against hers. "She's just like you." He whispered, "And she's going to be just fine."

Marian took his hand and led him out of the room, down the stairs and into the courtyard, Locksley courtyard on a summer's day. He opened his mouth.

"I can't quite believe it."

She threaded an arm round his waist, and leant into him.

"It's real. I'm real."

"We're… we're right… right back at the beginning."

And after she nodded, she kissed him again.

A/N: Hope you liked it! Please check out the corresponding Youtube Vid ;)

xxx