"Sit down, get comfortable. The furniture is so much softer than at home. Though you'll notice, most people have gotten quite lazy in this time. I imagine the two things are related." She was trying to smile over her shoulder at him as she got them both something to drink. They'd need it if this conversation got any more strange. And hat was more strange than trying to subtly find out if your husband knew you were dead? Or that he was even your husband?
"I actually haven't seen him at all," Marian admitted, looking a little hesitant. "Thankfully. Apparently he comes from a point when he's dead. Thought he was in hell when he arrived." Did he know about any of that? "Hasn't exactly succeeded in making friends here, but how does that come as a surprise to any of us?"
She finally returned to his side, offering him a glass. He looked so normal. So healthy. Everything about him was typically Robin and it filled her with that warmth she'd been afraid she'd never feel again. "But don't concern yourself with him. I've met so many people here, Robin. People from all over. People from stories out of books. Sir Lancelot and Morgana, even." And they had their own stories but it felt odd to admit that.