WHO Marcella, Tuck, then Much and Marian WHEN Tuesday evening WHERE Tuck’s church WHAT doing some evaluating WARNINGS tba
Marcella looked up and around as she entered the small church, slipping through the crowd. She didn't particularly want to be noticed as new or unusual, didn't want to draw attention to herself, so had dressed down (for her) in designer, tailored jeans and a fitted striped tee. She just wanted to sate her curiosity, she told herself. Just wanted to see what Malcolm saw.
It had been a long time since she last stepped foot in a church. She wasn't Christian any more, hadn't been since her teens when she was shamed by those people for a stupid decision that backfired on her. She believed in the old gods, the real ones, especially now she’d met and spoken to some of them.
She sat at the back of the room, watching people come in and sit down, and not the people she would have expected either. There were some of many stripes here, happy and chatty, sharing their community.
A lady came and sat down next to her, a friendly smile in place.
“Hello, sweetie, are you new?”
“I’m just seeing if it’s for me,” Marcie replied, smiling politely, keeping her handbag on her lap and her arms around it.
“Well I’m Ruby, and we’re always delighted to have new folks here. Do you want me to introduce you?” The lady looked poised to drag her into the middle of the crowd, and Marcie quickly shook her head.
“Oh no, thank you, but I’m okay. I just want to watch.”
“Alright then. But you holler if you change your mind.”
Marcie was left thankfully alone through the sermon. So that was Friar Tuck, the slender man who was speaking so thoughtfully and passionately from the pulpit. His words sounded to her like they were full of kindness, and she felt that doubt again. Was she on the right track? What was she doing, thinking she could run with ancient villains, despite her own dark draw towards it? She’d thought she could handle herself, and ended up watching a corpse for weeks, spinning her wheels alone.
Even sleeping with Gisborne and Malcolm. What had she intended to achieve with that? To play them off against each other? For what purpose? It seemed especially pointless now that her quest to know her parentage was at an end. Ares was a bastard, and didn’t want her. What did she have to work towards now?
And then… her mother and adopted father. They kept on trying, even though she never answered. Kept on telling her they loved her, asking her to call them, just to talk. Well, she wasn’t ready to talk yet, but she missed them both, so much.
She found she’d stopped listening to the sermon, drifting off from her original purpose of snooping on the Merry Men, into quiet introspection. The church was pleasant and warm, Friar Tuck's voice soothing to listen to, and she lost track of time. She didn’t notice when Ruby went up to the friar after the service and pointed her out, just sat with her hands folded over her handbag and her head down, a quiet frown on her face.