Waldeinsamkeit

Waldeinsamkeit: The feeling of being alone in the woods. In der Wald. Marian had heard it long ago from a foreign ambassador her father met with when she was small. She remembered sitting on the floor in the hearth room while they discussed trade and business across the huge oaken table. Her mother sat elegantly and silent at the right hand of her husband. A representation of her father's sovereignty as a lord and a reminder of civility when the tempers rose when dealing with foreign relations. Her mother had been striking, but always silent.
Had one watched the young girl playing quietly on the rug in front of the fire place you would of thought her an exact copy of her mother. Striking and silent. Children and women were to be seen and not heard.

Marian might have been quiet, but only because she knew the rules. As much as she was her mother’s child she was also her father’s. Stubborn, decisive, and quick witted
“It’s a shame” her mother would say as she tried to make her daughter understand the importance of a corset
“that you were not born a male, for you would have run your father’s household.”
But in this moment of youth in front of the fire she sat quiet, half listening half day dreaming to this foreign men.

“You English lack Waldeinsamkeit” One of them had said in a heated moment
“No desire to be lost in ze voods. So much structure, so much disease! No respect fur ze wald und wanderen...”
By then little Marian was already lost in her own mind again, staring out of the tall window as the rain poured down and through the torrent she could see the bending boughs shivering in the wind and she knew exactly what that man was talking about.

She thought of that moment from so many years ago as she threaded her way through the trees.
Her cloak whipped at her ankles when the wind picked up and she pressed her belongings closer to her body.
She was alone, and while she could see the storm heads rolling in the light still came through the leaves. She figured she had an hour before the storms began.
She felt as if she had been gone for so long.
The Merry Men had been scattered for over a two years now, Robin’s sporadic letters had stopped coming altogether months ago...none of them knew that her father’s title had been taken.
Her return to the aristocracy had broken Robin’s heart, but at the time it had to be done.
She returned it seemed to watch it all crumble.

“If you are leaving, then go.” he had said to her, facing away from her leaning against the lopsided door frame of their hut.
She had asked him if he would write to her, he shrugged and merely said
“If my position permits it.” and with that he disappeared into the woods so he wouldn’t have to be the one watching her leave.

Now she wound her way back, racing the storm. The old paths were overgrown and some of the markers were missing. She lost her way for a moment, back tracked, and then stumbled upon the hidden glen very suddenly.
All apart of it’s positioning.
Robin’s mapping skills were always fantastic.

Sure enough it seemed to be abandoned, but as she began to poke through the residences she found a small smoldering fire. A squatter perhaps?
Lighting flashed and the rains poured forth.
She would have to wait and see.