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Sans elle, la vie ne vaut pas le coup d'être vécue

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Sherwood



MessageSujet: Re: Sans elle, la vie ne vaut pas le coup d'être vécue Mar 23 Mar - 2:16

Sans elle, la vie ne vaut pas le coup d'être vécue

Y avait-il encore quelque chose à espérer de cette vie ?
Robin de Locksley en doutait. Qu’avait-il à espérer sans elle ? Que pouvait bien lui apporter la vie, quand elle lui avait tout repris ? Marian. Il n’arrivait même plus à prononcer son nom. Peut-être que s’il le faisait, son souvenir serait moins vivant, peut-être que ça revenait à la laisser partir ? Il ne voulait pas la laisser partir. Il ne voulait pas qu’elle parte.

Il avait d’abord aperçu son corps, par terre. Il n’y avait pas cru. Mais elle n’était pas morte, pas encore, et il avait cru qu’il pourrait la sauver, il avait eu foi en leur amour pour la préserver. Elle parlait, elle riait même, malgré cette épée plantée dans son ventre. Et elle voulait vivre. Le regard de Djaq avait été suffisant. Ils avaient tous les deux compris qu’elle ne vivrait pas. Robin avait senti son cœur se déchirer, il aurait voulu hurler. Puis elle avait voulu qu’il l’épouse. Avant la fin. Pourquoi avait-il fallu que l’un d’eux ne meure pour qu’enfin ils prononcent leurs vœux ? We were fighters. C’est ce qu’elle avait dit. Elle voulait qu’il continue à se battre, pour elle. Pourquoi n’avait-elle pas compris qu’il ne pouvait pas sans elle ? Pourquoi l’avait-elle fait promettre ? Il avait promis, mais ne pourrait pas tenir cette promesse.

"I, Robin, take you, Marian, to be my wedded wife… to have and to hold, from this day forward… for better or for worse… for richer or for poorer… in sickness or in health… to love and to cherish… till death do us part.".

"I, Marian, Take you, Robin… beautiful, beautiful Lord of Locksley, to be my wedded husband. I promise to love you and to cherish you… on Earth… and especially in Heaven. For now and forever… till death do us part."


Elle était belle. Elle n’avait jamais été si belle.

I love you, my husband.
I love you, my wife.


Quand il l’avait embrassé, il avait encore cru que leur amour la sauverait. L’amour ne suffisait pas. Il le savait maintenant aujourd’hui, mais il y avait cru, un temps. Il croyait que le Bien triomphait du Mal, que l’Amour triomphait de la Mort. Mais si l’Amour avait suffit, Marian serait encore à ses côtés. Elle allait mourir. Elle allait mourir, et il ne pouvait rien faire. Comment pouvait-elle être en train de mourir alors même qu’il serrait sa main ? Comment pouvait-elle mourir alors qu’ils venaient de se marier ? Comment pouvait-elle mourir alors qu’il l’aimait tant ? Il aurait donné sa vie pour elle. Il aurait dû pouvoir donner sa vie pour la sienne. Il serait resté des heures à la regarder dans les yeux. A croire. Mais elle avait retiré l’épée. Elle était prête, il ne l’était pas. Elle avait hurlé de douleur et il aurait voulu lui voler cette douleur. Pouvait-il réellement avoir si mal alors qu’il ne saignait pas ? Son cœur ne pouvait-il vraiment pas se briser ? Sa poitrine lui faisait pourtant aussi mal que si quelque chose se brisait en lui. Mais Marian avait sourit. That’s better...

Il avait porté son corps, jusqu’à la tombe que ses amis avaient creusée. Il avait revu toute leur vie. Le moment où il avait réalisé qu’il n’avait jamais cessé de l’aimer, le jour où il l’avait demandé en mariage, leur premier baiser, la première fois qu’il l’avait revu depuis son retour de la Terre Sainte. Aurait-il dû ramener son corps en Angleterre ? Certainement. Comment des Terres pouvaient-elles porter le nom de Sainte quand elles étaient maudites ? Will et Djaq étaient restés là-bas, il n’arrivait pas à se réjouir de leur bonheur.

Il était assis sous le grand hêtre, au sommet de la colline qui surplombait le village de Locksley. Tout avait changé ici. Ses deux compagnons laissaient un vide dans la forêt. Mais l’absence de Marian était comme un gouffre qui engloutissait tout le reste. Il ne vivait que pour la venger. Il avait envie de ne vivre que pour la venger. Mais il ne pouvait pas. Pourtant, quelques fois, entre deux cauchemars où il la revoyait mourir, entre deux rêves où il la revoyait rire, entre deux sanglots, quelques fois il sentait venir la colère. Et dans ces moments, il ne souhaitait qu’une seule chose. Le tuer. Trancher la tête de l’homme qui avait ôté la vie de la femme qu’il aimait. Qu’il aime. Lui qui avait prétendu l’aimer, comment avait-il pu ? Oui, parfois, il ne vivait que pour le tuer. Mais la vérité, c’est que Robin ne voulait plus vivre. Il ne pouvait plus. Pas sans elle.

Sous ses yeux s’étendait le village de Locksley, son village. Sous ses yeux s’étendait la forêt de Sherwood, gardienne de tant de moments heureux. Sous ses yeux s’étendait sa vie entière, passée et à venir. Mais il ne voyait rien de cela. Robin contemplait un futur sans elle.


Auteur : Cwellere
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http://robin-hood.forumactif.com


Marian de Knighton
♣ Lady / Nightwatchman ♣


√ LOCALISATION : In the arms of Robin
√ NOMBRE DE PRINTEMPS : 26

► WE ARE ROBIN HOOD ◄
● Age: 21 printemps
● Titre: Noble
● Inventaire:

MessageSujet: Re: Sans elle, la vie ne vaut pas le coup d'être vécue Ven 26 Mar - 15:56

    BENEATH THE SANDS

    Sans doute la fanficiton sur laquelle j'ai le plus pleurée... Je voulais absolument la mettre puisqu'elle s'accorde parfaitement avec le passage de mon histoire sur la mort de Marian, mais du point de vue de Robin, et je trouve cela magnifique, et en même temps si triste... Marian n'aurait jamais du mourir ! Fichus scénaristes ! >_<

    Titre : Beneath the Sands
    Auteur : ifeelfreaky
    Lien : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5771692/1/Beneath_the_Sands
    Genre : Tragedy/Romance
    Characteristics : Saison 3 de Robin Hood
    Rating : K+
    Spoilers : Saisons 2 (finale) et 3
    Fandom : Robin & Marian
    Type : One Shot POV

    Synopsis :
    Robin after Marian's death.

    Disclaimer :
    (I always forget these) I own nothing. The messed up BBC people do. Honestly, what good comes of killing MARIAN??!!! Read, review and enjoy.

    Commentaires :
    Okay, so I know that I'm writing another fanfic about this selfsame episode but I got to see the first eight minutes of episode three of the third season online. A line of Robin's got stuck in my head. "Robin Hood died in the Holy Land with Marian." So anyway, I decided to write the last minutes of the season two finale from Robin's POV. It's in present tense which I hardly use and in first person which I also usually don't work with, so bear with me, alright? Cool. Thanks.

    *sigh* I cried three times writing this. I think it might have gotten repetitive, though Hmm…. Not sure, but if so I kind of like it that way. Did you like it? I wish you'd tell me. Oh, look! A shooting star! I wish that whoever is reading this will review!! Another thing I don't like is that there's no happy ending. I like my stories to have happy endings. Is that so wrong.

    Robin and Marian; for now and FOREVER!!

    "Robin Hood died in the Holy Land with Marian," I snap to the startled members of my gang. They can never know and can never understand what it was like for me to lose Marian. They can never know what it does to me every day that I'm alive without her. I remember it all too clearly.

    All of it. Every single second has to replay itself before my eyes whenever I close them. And every single second is as vivid as when I lived them.

    My Marian. My beautiful Marian was murdered. And it's my fault. The king told me what she said to Gisborne before he killed her. If I hadn't…hadn't what? If I hadn't left her alone in that wretched disserted town without even a weapon, if I hadn't gone to war and lost her in the doing, if I hadn't chased after her when I came back and gained her love again… Marian could have lived.

    And now… now whenever I close my eyes I'm there I see her dying all over again…

    --*--

    I turn the corner and I see her, lying on the ground a sword embedded in her abdomen. No! Not now! Not when we're this close to defeating the sheriff and this close to peace. Not when we're this close to being together at last.

    "Marian!" I cry. Even in my own ears I can hear the pain in my heart reflect into my voice. Gisborne, I will kill you; you have written your own death warrant. But not now; not in this moment. This could be among the last moments of my love's life.

    I'm by her side and I can hear the rest of the gang's disbelieving voices as they realize what's happened. I'm almost unaware of Gisborne; Marian is the only important thing to me right now. Marian, I'm sorry. Please don't leave me here.

    The sheriff screams, "It's not over, Hood! I will have England!"

    But I don't care, all I care is that Marian lives. Because she has to, and because I know that I can't live without her.

    "The king!" Marian gasps. "Where's the king?"

    I calm her; tell her that she's saved him. Djaq is there and I spare her one glance away from my love and my life to, in only a look, beg her to somehow save Marian even though I know it's impossible to ask and impossible to even hope for.

    But Marian doesn't know. "How's it looking down there? Am I beyond even Djaq's amazing talent?"

    Yes, my love, and I know that I'm to blame. Instead, wanting with everything I have in me to believe my own words, I say, "It's alright we'll think of something." Something? There is nothing and I somehow know that but refuse to believe it.

    She asks if we can remove the sword and I look back at Djaq wishing she'd tell me that we could; that we only had to stitch Marian back together and everything would be fine. But Djaq shakes her head.

    And the first small piece of me dies. With the knowledge that there's nothing I or anyone else can do to keep Marian alive, my spirit begins to die.

    "Marian. Marian, we can't take it out just yet."

    "Why?" she asks. "Why?" When she sees that I can't answer she looks at Djaq and realizes. "Will I die when it comes out?"

    With Marian's words of acknowledgement to her own impending death another piece of me dies. I can't answer her simple question. I can't form the 'yes' on my tongue. I feel like everything's crumbling beneath me, as if I'm standing at the edge of a crumbling cliff about give out from under me.

    My thumb strokes her perfect cheek, and that flawless skin. Soon this will all be gone.

    My silence is all the answer she needs."Then we haven't got much time, my darling."

    No, don't say that. Please don't ever say that. "We have forever, my love." It's a lie; I know that I'm lying. I want the lie to be the truth. I want the lie to be a truth carved in large letters across a stone. But it's not, and we both know it.

    "I hope we have forever in heaven," Marian says. "Because we didn't have enough time on earth. Not nearly enough time."

    "We were busy," I say. We were too busy. Too busy to listen to what our own hearts were telling us to do. I wish we hadn't been. I wish we had shoved everything else out of the way to do what our hearts had told us.

    "We were fighters and I'm proud." Marian's voice is strong for the first time. "You keep fighting for me, Robin."

    I know another small part of me is dying with what she is saying. Because I know that she knows she'll never have the chance to fight again. I tell her the truth. I tell her what I've known all along. "I can't fight without you!"

    "I'd love to argue with you, but we haven't got the time. You promise me you'll keep fighting."

    Why is it important? Marian is dying in my arms! But she needs me to say it and if only for that reason, I say, "I will."

    Marian sighs contentedly. "Now, where were we?"

    I don't understand. "What?"

    "The last time we were dying, we were getting married," she reminds me. "Can we carry on please?"

    I can't recall anything. Somehow it doesn't matter amid what's happening. She's dying. Marian is dying. How can Marian be dying? "I can't remember."

    "That's the last time I marry you if you even remember," she laughs.

    How can she even think to joke and laugh when so much is ending? Everything is ending. Marian, my love and my whole life is dying and with her so are my spirit and my soul dying. Piece by piece. Bit by bit. I am dying.

    The king hands me a ring. My voice won't come to me for a moment. It wasn't supposed to be this way. "I, Robin, take you, Marian to be my wedded wife. To have and to hold from this day forward. For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish till death do us part."

    I want to scream. I will throw myself into the deepest ring of Hades if it means that Marian will live and if it means that we don't have to marry like this.

    "I, Marian, take you, Robin, my beautiful, beautiful lord of Locksley, to be my wedded husband. I promise love you and to cherish you on earth and especially in heaven." She smiles as she says the last part, and I can't understand why. I wanted to have chance at love on earth and now I know I never will. "For now and forever till death do us part."

    It's said now. I have what I have always wanted; Marian for a wife. But for no more than a few more moments. "Kiss me," Marian says. But as I move to she stops me. "No, give me the ring first. Make an honest woman of me, Robin."

    As I follow her instructions, place the ring on her finger and leave a kiss there, I feel yet more of myself die.

    "You may kiss the bride."

    I know this is the last kiss. I know that this is the end. I know that soon she'll be gone forever. It kills another piece of my spirit. How much more can possibly be left? This last kiss ends before I'm ready for it to.

    Marian says, "I love you, my husband."

    "I love you, my wife," I respond.

    Her hand moves and I don't realize what she means to do until it's done. She screams in pain, a scream that I know will haunt my memory, as she pulls Gisborne's sword out of her stomach.

    I try to calm her and then her breathing becomes rapid and forced. Oh, please, not yet. I can't lose you this soon.

    "That's better," Marian whispers. She struggles to breathe, and each gasp is like a dagger to my heart. Her hand slips from its place on my arm.

    No. No, no, no. "Marian?" I beg her to open her eyes for one more second. Just one. "Marian?"

    It's over. She's gone. For now and forever until death do us part. As long as long as we both shall live. There's so little left in my spirit, but yet more of it dies.

    In disbelief I stay there; this couldn't be the end. I don't know how long I stay, unwilling to get up and leave her.

    "Master?" Much's voice seems distant. Of another place. "Master, we have to bury her."

    "My men," King Richard said, "They can carry the body—"

    "No," I say. "I need to. Let me do it."

    "We'll bury her beside Carter," the king says softly. He tells me the place and how to find it. "Come when you're ready."

    I feel Much's hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Master."

    And then I'm alone with her body. "Twice," I whisper. "Twice I have lost you now. I don't know if I could've lived trough three, but I wish I had the chance, because to have just one more day I'd do anything."

    I cry for the second time in my life over her unmoving body. The first time I gained her back, but not this time.

    I kneel next to her and put an arm beneath her knees and an arm under her back. When I stand, holding the body of the only woman I'll ever truly love I feel the rest of me die. I have no spirit left. The cliff has crumbled and I'm falling.

    I carry her across the sands of the desert, remembering the way she used to scorn me and how I used to enjoy it if only because it was her angelic voice doing the scorning. 'Fool,' she'd say. 'Grow up.' Tell me once more, love. Maybe then I'll finally grow up.

    Or maybe I am growing up right now as I carry your body. Because I'm not just carrying you; I'm carrying my love, my life, my everything, my soul, my heart, my beliefs, and my spirit. See? I've grown up. It's a hard lesson to learn if this is how has to be taught.

    You know, if we had had children, I would have named one Edward, for your father. He was a good man. I don't what I'd name a girl, because I would have let you pick.

    Why did you have to be brave, Marian? Why did you have to be the one there to protect the king? You, who had no weapon to defend yourself with? Why did you have to tell him that you loved me when he had sword in his hand?

    'Everything is a choice; everything we do.' No, it isn't. You didn't choose to die today. I didn't choose to lose you. We didn't choose to be separated forever.

    If I could relive today, I would. I'd tell you to stay close to me in that town. I'd give you my sword so you could fight back. I'd make sure Gisborne died before he could attack the king.

    I'll kill him, Marian, I promise. Whatever 'qualities' you thought he had, I'm sure you've changed your mind now. Don't worry, my love, he'll die.

    When I reach the burial site I don't say anything. There's nothing to say.

    When Marian is laid into the ground I want to jump into the grave too. I might as well be dead without her and I feel dead already.

    I am dead. I have died with her.

    --*--

    I'll never forget the way we finally said our vows, or the weight of her in my arms, or how her hand slipped away, or the sound of the first shovelful of sand dropping over her still body. How could I with those memories repeating themselves?

    I have always loved Marian but I have to love her without ever seeing her in this life again. I have to live without her smile to brighten the darker days. I will never feel her warm breath on my skin again, never hear her laugh when I say something flirty and impish.

    It all ended in the Holy Land in an attempt to save the king that cost me everything.

    'I love you, my husband. For now and forever.'

    'I love you, my wife.'

    Yes, for now and forever.

__________________________________________________________________________________


    Marian: « Everything is a choice, everything we do.»


    ♥ SHERIFF GOT YOUR TONGUE - EPISODE 2 SEASON 1 ♥


Dernière édition par Marian de Knighton le Dim 28 Mar - 16:00, édité 1 fois
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http://www.youtube.com/user/Nightwatchwoman


Marian de Knighton
♣ Lady / Nightwatchman ♣


√ LOCALISATION : In the arms of Robin
√ NOMBRE DE PRINTEMPS : 26

► WE ARE ROBIN HOOD ◄
● Age: 21 printemps
● Titre: Noble
● Inventaire:

MessageSujet: Re: Sans elle, la vie ne vaut pas le coup d'être vécue Ven 26 Mar - 23:07

  • Fanfiction d'Evangeline : Les larmes de l'Orient

__________________________________________________________________________________


    Marian: « Everything is a choice, everything we do.»


    ♥ SHERIFF GOT YOUR TONGUE - EPISODE 2 SEASON 1 ♥
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http://www.youtube.com/user/Nightwatchwoman


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MessageSujet: Re: Sans elle, la vie ne vaut pas le coup d'être vécue Aujourd'hui à 10:51

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Sans elle, la vie ne vaut pas le coup d'être vécue

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