Choices - Epilogue
I hope this is good enough.
This has been a good and full life, reclaiming and rebuilding England with the help of their children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, Robin by her side. But she cannot stay. The bright light lifting her, surrounding her in infinite peace, is showing her life to her, and from others’ points of view. Especially that of one. What he had said and done, how shattered he had felt. She had committed good and evil in one act, one decision. Loving Robin with all her heart, and Guy with all her soul, she had had to choose between them in order to live with herself. In order to be a good person.
The light leads her first through the warm, summer forest of sun-emerald splendour overhead, the moss aglow underfoot. Here there are no rocks, no roots, no harshness. Coming to the edge of a village, the light tells her she must go over to that small white cottage with the thatched roof, the one on the cliff high over the sea and surf, the one with flowers of every kind and colour around it, planted and tended by its owner. She must go and knock on the door.
Marian starts to walk in the direction of the cottage. Her knees are weak, just as they had been in the unlived life she had forgotten, the one the light had recalled to her, buckling her ability to speak that night she would have been alone with him for the first time, if - the unlatched door opens as she raps lightly on it. No one is here.
A movement across the grass to her left catches her eye. He is working gently with a wild horse, breaking it in without a whip or a word. A spectacular white horse. Marian runs over to the corral, climbs to lean over the top of the fence.
Noticing her, he leads the horse to the gate, sets it free. It trots straight over to Marian, nudging her hand with its warm, velvet nose, its hot breath demanding attention as it takes in her scent, getting to know her better. She feels its shining mane. “He’s beautiful.”
He is still in black, head to toe. “You should be with Robin.”
Marian throws her feet over the fence, jumps down to his side. Walking toward him, brushing the grit from the fence off her hands, reaching him, she turns her palms outward toward him in the hope that she is not too late.
He takes the first step into her arms that rise to wrap around his strong shoulders faster than he can reach her. A mutual, fierce embrace. Unhindered by earthly senses, Guy feels the magnitude of what is tingling through her.
“Kiss her already!”
Startled out of their little world, Guy and Marian look over to the cottage to see Meg, along with the rest of their friends who came ahead of Marian - Allan, Little John, and Much - all gawking at what the power of God can do. Guy is holding the only woman he has ever loved.
“Robin will kill me if I do, when he gets here.”
“Trust me, he’s probably remarried by now,” laughs Allan. “The man loves women.”
“Do I have a say in this?” asks Marian.
“No,” answers Guy. Wrong thing to say. She’s giving him the ‘I can take you on - just watch me’ look. And here she goes.
Pulling the front of his shirt, her lips a breath away from his, “I’m going to change everything for you, Sir Guy of Gisborne.”
Little John stares at Guy and Marian. Together. There is no denying this new beginning, the yearning fulfilled. Blooming over them like the buds of spring, points of pale blue light form. Like tiny stars, they float up around them growing into hundreds of bursting rainbows swirling into an intermingled alignment. So, this is what a second chance looks like. “It’s wrong to love two.”
“That’s right,” nods Much.
“Yes,” agrees Meg, taking Allan’s hand, sharing a look of love. “She has suffered for it every day.”
“Look at him. He never stopped, did he. Loving her,” Much whispers.
“This is good,” pronounces Little John. “This is right.”
Leaving with the rest, Much agrees, “As the good Lord said, ‘he who should have been first gets to be the last.’”
Allan scoffs, “That’s not what He said. And He said there’s no marriage in Heaven.”
That, Guy hears. “No. There’s something better,” his voice full of wonder, his eyes only for Marian.
“I am so sorry,” he whispers to her, only to hear her voice murmur under his,” I love you, I love you, I love you.” Her words draw his mouth to find hers, silencing his anguish and regret once and for all. Coursing through them and around them in the light is a rapture beyond their wildest imaginings. Their love, once forbidden, is now blessed. Divine. What should have been has begun.
This has been a good and full life, reclaiming and rebuilding England with the help of their children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, Robin by her side. But she cannot stay. The bright light lifting her, surrounding her in infinite peace, is showing her life to her, and from others’ points of view. Especially that of one. What he had said and done, how shattered he had felt. She had committed good and evil in one act, one decision. Loving Robin with all her heart, and Guy with all her soul, she had had to choose between them in order to live with herself. In order to be a good person.
The light leads her first through the warm, summer forest of sun-emerald splendour overhead, the moss aglow underfoot. Here there are no rocks, no roots, no harshness. Coming to the edge of a village, the light tells her she must go over to that small white cottage with the thatched roof, the one on the cliff high over the sea and surf, the one with flowers of every kind and colour around it, planted and tended by its owner. She must go and knock on the door.
Marian starts to walk in the direction of the cottage. Her knees are weak, just as they had been in the unlived life she had forgotten, the one the light had recalled to her, buckling her ability to speak that night she would have been alone with him for the first time, if - the unlatched door opens as she raps lightly on it. No one is here.
A movement across the grass to her left catches her eye. He is working gently with a wild horse, breaking it in without a whip or a word. A spectacular white horse. Marian runs over to the corral, climbs to lean over the top of the fence.
Noticing her, he leads the horse to the gate, sets it free. It trots straight over to Marian, nudging her hand with its warm, velvet nose, its hot breath demanding attention as it takes in her scent, getting to know her better. She feels its shining mane. “He’s beautiful.”
He is still in black, head to toe. “You should be with Robin.”
Marian throws her feet over the fence, jumps down to his side. Walking toward him, brushing the grit from the fence off her hands, reaching him, she turns her palms outward toward him in the hope that she is not too late.
He takes the first step into her arms that rise to wrap around his strong shoulders faster than he can reach her. A mutual, fierce embrace. Unhindered by earthly senses, Guy feels the magnitude of what is tingling through her.
“Kiss her already!”
Startled out of their little world, Guy and Marian look over to the cottage to see Meg, along with the rest of their friends who came ahead of Marian - Allan, Little John, and Much - all gawking at what the power of God can do. Guy is holding the only woman he has ever loved.
“Robin will kill me if I do, when he gets here.”
“Trust me, he’s probably remarried by now,” laughs Allan. “The man loves women.”
“Do I have a say in this?” asks Marian.
“No,” answers Guy. Wrong thing to say. She’s giving him the ‘I can take you on - just watch me’ look. And here she goes.
Pulling the front of his shirt, her lips a breath away from his, “I’m going to change everything for you, Sir Guy of Gisborne.”
Little John stares at Guy and Marian. Together. There is no denying this new beginning, the yearning fulfilled. Blooming over them like the buds of spring, points of pale blue light form. Like tiny stars, they float up around them growing into hundreds of bursting rainbows swirling into an intermingled alignment. So, this is what a second chance looks like. “It’s wrong to love two.”
“That’s right,” nods Much.
“Yes,” agrees Meg, taking Allan’s hand, sharing a look of love. “She has suffered for it every day.”
“Look at him. He never stopped, did he. Loving her,” Much whispers.
“This is good,” pronounces Little John. “This is right.”
Leaving with the rest, Much agrees, “As the good Lord said, ‘he who should have been first gets to be the last.’”
Allan scoffs, “That’s not what He said. And He said there’s no marriage in Heaven.”
That, Guy hears. “No. There’s something better,” his voice full of wonder, his eyes only for Marian.
“I am so sorry,” he whispers to her, only to hear her voice murmur under his,” I love you, I love you, I love you.” Her words draw his mouth to find hers, silencing his anguish and regret once and for all. Coursing through them and around them in the light is a rapture beyond their wildest imaginings. Their love, once forbidden, is now blessed. Divine. What should have been has begun.