On their wedding day, Maid Marian smiled. Her heart had always belonged to this man who loved others more than himself, this man who had been dubbed outlaw for doing what was right.

Robin Hood, her husband, pardoned by King Richard himself.

“You are just as beautiful as the Mother Mary must be,” Robin Hood whispered in her ears, as he danced with his new bride in the woods. They were alone at last.

Marian laughed. “I am so happy.”

Robin Hood pulled her close and said, “You make me happy — a woman to bear my children and care for me.”

Marian had dreamed her whole life of marrying Robin Hood and having his children. They would all look like him, the boys just as handsome, the girls prettier. She’d teach them about when their father had been an outlaw. She’d pretend to worry when Robin took the boys out hunting. (“Oh, Robin, no poaching!”) And she’d teach her girls to have the nicest, smallest embroidery stitches.

She smiled and laid her head against his chest. How he treated her so wonderfully! He treated all woman as if they were sacred…but she? Robin Hood adored her as if she were the Mother Mary. There was no better, kinder man than he. No one more worthy of being a father to her children than he.

* * *

Robin Hood found Marian crying eight months after their anniversary. “What is it, my wife?”

She didn’t want to speak her fears. What if Robin were to love her less? Or to laugh? Or worse yet, what if speaking them made them real? Speaking them might make them so.

But he held her so tenderly her heart was safe, and she was able to tell him, “What if I can’t have a child?”

Robin Hood laughed. “Don’t worry. We’ve only been married a few weeks –”

“It’s been three months, Robin. I should have a child already.”

Still he laughed, holding her closer. “Truly? Time passes fast with us! Do not worry. God will bless you soon enough. Have faith.”

Marian’s tears dried. Robin Hood knew just what to say to ease her fears.

“I just received a summons,” Robin said, after a few moments of happiness. “From King Richard.”

“Oh?” Marian’s heart fluttered. She knew what he would say.

“There’s a group of lords that have stepped out of line. He wants me to deal with them.”

Marian’s heart filled with pride, despite not wanting him to leave. She caressed his large hands. “I don’t want you to leave, but you are the best man to deal with ornery lords.”

Robin Hood laughed, “Someday I shall be a legend.”

“And I your legendary love,” Marian returned the teasing, but her heart was not with it. “Be safe, my husband.”

“And keep your pretty eyes dry, my wife.”

* * *

At first she kept busy.  Marian did not need to take care of the estates — that was Little John’s work, as Robin Hood’s steward. But she enjoyed spending time in the gardens and in the kitchen, and knowing each servants’ name. She loved to visit with them as they combed her hair or laid out her clothes.

The first time Robin Hood left, he was gone a whole fortnight. But it was not the only occasion he was called away. And over time he was needed for longer periods, more frequently. Marian grew restless for her husband, and her fears reawakened.

No child came, month after month. A year passed and Marian’s mind knew the truth. She was barren and Robin would know soon, too. If he didn’t know already.

She sat in the garden, alone with her questions, pulling at flower petals. Maybe King Richard wasn’t calling him away so much. Maybe Robin couldn’t bear to be at home with a worthless wife.  

These words became rooted as truths in Marian’s mind. She tried to push them away, at first. She would laugh with the servants as if nothing was wrong.

Marian found herself spending much time with Alice, the cook and Little John’s wife. Her smile was as warm as the bread fresh out of the hearth, her eyes were alight with hospitality. Her adult daughters worked with her. And each had many little ones, running around, screaming and laughing.

Marian told herself to enjoy the children. Envy, after all, was a vice. But her heart pained at the sight of the tiny ones. Her midsection ached to have her own. Her hands were begging God to let them do what they were made to do — hold her own child. Her body was meant to create. So why didn’t she?

Alice’s daughter, Elizabeth, and daughter-in-law, Gloria, were with child at the same time. Marian watched their bellies grow over the months, imagining what they felt like each and every day and knowing that she’d gladly trade their morning sickness for the hollow ache she knew each moment.

One day, each of Alice’s daughters arrived with a new baby in their arms, laughing with pride.

“Here, Mistress, see my baby! Isn’t she so fat?” Elizabeth said, handing Marian a small, red baby wrapped in cloths.

Marian’s arms quivered as she took the baby. Her stomach resisted the feeling of a baby resting on it so near. Tears started in her eyes.

Gloria said, “Oh, but I wanted her to hold my baby first. He is the largest! Weighed nine pounds when he was born, Mistress. Do look at his long curls!”

“Oh?” Marian tried to keep her tears locked away. “They are so dark.”

She brought the baby girl to her lips, but couldn’t kiss the soft cheek. Contact would break her sanity. She should be holding a child of her own by now. Not another’s. She should be chasing around a toddler, grabbing a hold of him and tickling his fat belly. Instead she held someone else’s child in her aching arms.

“Here, take her back, Elizabeth. I am feeling tired now.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Both young women chanced to lower their eyes toward Marian’s flat belly. They shared a look, then sent sympathy to Marian. “Don’t worry, Mistress. You’ll have a child of your own soon. The Good Father in Heaven couldn’t do anything but bless you.”

Their words were too much. Marian left, feeling like a foolish child as tears broke free.

She would not return to the kitchen. She could not be around all those children again — to have her heart’s desire taunted before her eyes was too much.

She had no desire to go outside… the garden was full of life while her womb was dead. How could she bear to see so much life when she was cursed inwardly? She stayed in the darkness of her room, keeping even the sunlight locked away behind heavy drapes. She lost track of her estate, letting the servants alone. New ones came and she did not know their names. Nor did she have the strength to care.

She should have never been born. Robin should have never burdened himself with such a worthless, useless bride. She prayed the Mother Mary still loved her some — enough to take her home soon.

* * *

Marion threw her covers away and sat up in her wide, lonely bed. She buried her eyes into her lap, bending her empty belly. Her stomach was too flat — it, not her eyes should be swollen. Oh, how she hated crying so much! But the tears would not stop.

“Marian?” One of the maids interrupted her weeping.

Marian raised her distraught face. She used to hide her red eyes in shame. But the servants were used to her despair.

“Would you like a fresh dress, Mistress?” The maid fumbled with a dress, changing it from arm to arm.

Marian shook her head. “I am fine.”

“But you haven’t changed in a week.” the maid whispered.

Marian shrugged. What was the use? Though she hadn’t realized it had been that long. How long had Robin Hood been away this time? She was always presentable when he returned, she kept a servant watching for him so she could be warned to gather her wits together. She didn’t want him knowing how… useless she had become. “I’m tired.”

“Let me comb your hair at least.” the maid insisted.

Marian looked down at her black hair. It was caught up in long knots, sticking out all about her head. Once she had cared for herself, vain about her appearance. Now nothing mattered. But she complied. Marian stepped out of bed and sat on a hard chair. The wood poked at her bones. The pain felt wonderful. Better than the hollow ache that owned her middle.

Tears loosened once more.

The maid rubbed Marian’s shoulders for a long moment before bringing the brush through the ends of her hair. This would take a long time.

Marian slumped in the chair and sobbed.

“There, Mistress. I’m not pulling that hard.”

“It’s not you.” Marian managed a strangled laugh. “Don’t mind my tears — what is your name?”

“Victoria, Mistress.”

Marian sighed. “Once I knew everyone’s name. I’ve become inept.”

“No, Mistress!” Victoria gasped. “There are so many of us, you shouldn’t feel that way.”

“How long have you been coming to my room, Victoria?”

“Two months, Mistress.”

Marian nodded. Her tears were silent… for the moment. “Long enough that I should have known your name.”

Victoria continued brushing, but said nothing. Marian knew why. Because she was right. She was failing as the mistress of the castle. She had allowed herself to fall into despair and what would Robin say if he knew? Marian had no strength to care.

Her tears remembered her face again.

“There, there. You don’t have to know my name. I only care about your beautiful locks.”

Marian spoke through her tears. “Once I was the envy of all women and girls. My hair was always shiny.” She pulled her ratty hair away from Victoria’s brush, bringing it to her face. She let it fall behind her back once more. Victoria resumed brushing.

Marian smoothed her dirty dress over her knees. “My father made sure I owned a dozen dresses of the latest fashions. I was active in charities. I was productive with my time.” She pulled away once more, letting her head fall to her lap. “Now… now… what I wouldn’t give to be the poorest, dirtiest girl.”

“Oh, Mistress, don’t say such things. You are still all of those things… so wonderful! With a wonderful husband!” Victoria spoke with force, pulling Marian’s head aright once more and yanking the brush through her hair.

Marion smiled at the pain and Victoria’s tone. “No,” she said, tears falling more silently. “Prestige and money mean nothing when you cannot have a child.”

Victoria said nothing. To Marian, Victoria’s silence confirmed what her heart told her. Babies were everything, and women who had none were worthless. The brush worked silently through the tangles as if also agreeing.

* * *

Her stomach remained empty. Her body ached with despair. Marian hadn’t allowed any of the servants to enter her room in…days? Time was something of the past… now lasted forever, and slowly so.

Today was their two year marriage anniversary and Robin Hood had been gone nearly three months — it was the only thing Marian had kept track of, every day of his absence.

She sat on the floor in a dark corner, alone in their large chambers. She could no longer cry. Her whole body was empty, desolate, separated from her broken mind.

Pain was a friend of the past.

Strength and beauty were a forgotten memory.

Her hair, her clothes, her home. None of it mattered anymore.

She was alone. She was cursed.

Her dreams were empty. Her days were dull. Not even tears could comfort her anymore.

She had prayed and plead to Heaven, “Holy Father and Mother Mary, why hath thou set me apart from all women and denied me? I pray that ye would be gracious. Forgive me for my sins, take my life if it pleases thee, but give me a child! Bless Robin Hood, at least, before ye take my life.”

But she had no strength left for prayer.

“Marian?”

Marian’s head jerked upright. Robin Hood? “Robin!” Why hadn’t the servant warned her? He could not see her this way. She could not bear the loss of his love.

“I’ve not been able to get her to eat for days,” Victoria’s voice squeaked, tears falling from her eyes. “She just sits there and moans and says ‘I’m worthless and my husband hates me’ and she won’t let me near her.”

Robin stood between the darkness of the room and the light that escaped from the doorway. “Thank you, Victoria. I will take care of her now.”

The maid left, shutting the room into darkness once more.

But Robin was there. A place could never be dark where he stood.

He fell to his knees and cuddled her weak form, comforting her broken spirit. Marian started to hear tears break through his words. “My wife, what have I done to cause you to doubt my love?”

“It is not you, but me.” He awakened her tears, and they pressed against her dull eyes. “I am cursed… a dishonor to you.”

“You are not cursed. You are blessed, a daughter of Mother Mary.”

But Marian shook her head. “I will never have children.”

She looked into his eyes, to see if maybe he knew already. She saw sadness. So he hadn’t suspected. And he was disappointed. Why else could he be crying? Robin Hood never cried.  Marian turned her face away. He would leave her now. She would be a shame among all women. Worthless, infertile, cursed.

He stood…with her in his arms. And carried her to their bed, laying her down, slowly, gently, carefully. He kissed her forehead, brushed her hair behind her ears. He pulled the covers up to her chin. All the while tears silently fell over his cheeks, onto her own.

“You are not less of a woman, my wife. Satan has lied to you. But you are a daughter of the Mother Mary. Beautiful, kind, loving. Like so many women of old. Sarah, Rachel, Hannah, Elizabeth. You are as they were — blessed daughters, set apart for some Holy purpose.”

Marian’s stomach lightened, as if filled with hope. “Am I truly blessed?”

“Yes, Marian. God loves you, and I do, too. Anyone that dares to say otherwise will know why I was once called the Prince of Thieves.”

“Robin?” Marian closed her eyes, feeling the strength to smile for the first time in such a long time.

“Yes, my love?”

“Am I broken?” her voice quivered.

“Nay, you are the most beautiful, whole woman I know. Not less.” He kissed her once more, then lay down beside her and the two of them wept together for the children they could never have.

Years passed into decades, and their love never lessened. Robin Hood stayed true to his vow — he never loved his wife less. And Marian discovered that God had another work for her as she cared for every person in her home and for all the needy Robin Hood brought to the safety of their estate. Twenty years passed and they remained as they began, two devout lovers driven by Faith and Love.