Oh my god. I actually suck. It took me half a year to update . . . Gawd, I am such an epic fail . . .

Anywho, here's the next chapter for you. I should update soon. If I don't, feel free to send me private messages of death treats. I'm surprised nobody did in those six months . . .

Love you!

They were bound, by the hands, and all by each other's sides.

'I don't want to die,' whispered Much. 'This is it . . . we'll be with Robin. We'll all be dead –'

'He's alive, Much!' Marian hissed back in response, sick of repeating the same thing over and over. 'He's alive and he will save us!' Her hair had been tied back by the jailer before they had departed the castle and been bound and trussed together. The Sheriff had said that he didn't want her hair covering up the "expression and highlights of death" on her face. Lovely.

'Yeah,' replied Allan, although his voice showed the cracks in his supposed bravery. 'He'll save us. He always does.'

The people of Nottingham were let in as the gates were raised. Marian felt eyes burning into her and the sting of humiliation had already started to settle in. This wasn't any usual hanging; the Sheriff was making an example of them. This execution was primarily for entertainment and, in Marian's case, revenge. She knew how long the Sheriff had wanted her death to come about. He had voiced his wistful ideas enough times. Two guards were wheeling something into the courtyard, covered in a sheet. Marian tried not to look at it – he was going to come, he was going to come . . . They pulled back the sheet and Marian saw the spear attached to the machine . . . it was going to pierce one of them, and most probably the one in the middle first . . . and it just so happened that the Sheriff had insisted she be put in the centre of the group. . .

'What a great day!' exclaimed a familiar voice. Vaisey was stood upon the platform by the castle entrance and beaming like his birthday had occurred early this year. 'It is a great day for Nottingham, its people . . . and homeland security. To mark the death of the terrorist, Hood, we shall execute his little followers . . . prepare to fire.'

Vaisey continued to shout and yell and do whatever it was he was doing . . . Marian felt her stomach churning uncomfortably. Was this it now? Had she been wrong? Maybe she had been hallucinating . . . no. No, she had known it was Robin, it was Robin.

'We're going to die.'

Nobody bothered to tell Much to shut up; it wasn't worth it. Marian personally welcomed as much noise as possible . . . if she was going to die, she didn't want it to be silent and morbid – she wanted noise, lots of noise like when she was growing up and – John and Much were struggling, Allan stuck on Marian's other side and unable to move. She got the hint and started to move also . . . to die, right there, in that way, would be humiliating, and she – she didn't want to die like this!

'FIRE!'

The spear was let off and John barrelled into Marian just in time – he knocked all three of them flying, him crashing into them as the spear shot into the wood behind them. They all tried to catch their breath as Vaisey laughed manically. Much was whimpering.

'At least it's not a dull death.'

Of course . . . it was Allan who said that. He would.

'What?' exclaimed Marian breathlessly, trying to stay as far away from the centre as possible. The only thing was . . . the more you tried to move away, the more someone else was pulled to the middle.

'They'll be talking about this for years.'

'Great,' said John sarcastically. 'Really, really great.'

Marian shushed them just in time to hear the Sheriff's last words – 'This time, make it flaming.'

'No,' she whispered, 'John, move – we need to move –'

'WAIT!'

Silence fell and a familiar cloak swished through the crowd . . . 'Tuck?' He made his way through the mass of people, pushing when necessary, and as he reached the Sheriff he raised a hand pointedly. Allan struggled.

'What's 'e think 'e's doing?' said Allan, trying to look around John. 'I mean . . . 'e got us caught once. Now what's 'e doin'?'

'He's a good man, Allan,' said Marian firmly. It was true that she had her doubts about Tuck . . . but he had saved Robin's life. And who knew what would have happened to Marian if she had lingered around in the forest for much longer. But he had sent them to Dead Man's Crossing; he had set them up.

'A last request, Sir Guy,' said Tuck, slipping off his hood as he approached the platform. 'Let us respect them and give them that.'

'Who are you?' said the Sheriff, sounding totally non-interested. Of course he wasn't. He was only interested in things when they involved power and death.

'Brother Tuck,' said Gisbourne, eyes fixed on Tuck. He hadn't looked at Marian; not once. 'We can trust him, my Lord. He is the one who tipped us off on Hood's men.'

'I wish to just offer them a chance of absolution,' said Tuck, nodding politely. John looked at Marian questioningly – she had suspected that the others were suspicious over her friendship with Tuck – and she shook her head dismissively. She had no idea what was going on; Tuck had never spoken to her of this.

'Fine,' drawled the Sheriff. 'But quick, quick . . . these men have got a hot date, and Lady Marian needs to celebrate with her husband in heaven.'

It was a good job that Marian was tied up. She had wanted to clock the Sheriff in the face for a while now. It was hard not to after living in the same castle as him for so long . . .

Tuck started to recite in Latin, and Marian was so transfixed in watching him that she nearly didn't notice their executioner setting fire to the spear head. Much elbowed her sharply, a whimper soon following, and her eyes settled on it uneasily. She was . . . she had no idea how she felt. Emotions seemed to have abandoned her. And it was . . . was it getting darker? How and why was it getting darker so quickly?

'Alright, alright . . .' cut in the Sheriff, interrupting Tuck's Latin chanting. 'That's enough of the nonsense. No amount of hullabaloo will save their blackened souls – FIRE IT UP!'

Their struggling had ceased, but as the attention was refocused on them, they began to struggle once more. Their breathing quickened and heightened . . . Much stood on her foot, but Marian didn't care, because the pain was nothing like the pain she would soon receive, she was sure of it -

Tuck had stormed into the middle of the crowd, sparks a flying and his voice booming around them. The scene was like a blur to them all. Gisbourne had drawn out his sword, the Sheriff was all but throwing a temper tantrum reminiscent to the ones Marian remembered Robin having in their childhood . . . Robin . . . she was going to die and leave him alive – why did things always have to go like this in their life?

'. . . The sky will darken and the sun will disappear!'

The sky was definitely darkening. But Marian was tied so that she couldn't twist her head as to see the sun. Her hands felt like they were on the verge of breaking apart . . .

'THERE! It's happening.'

Panic. Complete and utter panic broke out. People ran around, screams reverberated in the courtyard . . . Marian felt the pieces in her mind clicking together, but one piece was still missing – there was still something that she didn't understand . . . where was Robin and what had happened to him?

Love you, please don't hate me forever . . . please review! I'm so, so sorry for abandoning this! xoxo