Robin Hood: Four Ways What Happened In The Finale Didn't End Up Happening
Title: Four Ways What Happened In The Finale Didn't End Up Happening
Rating: R
Charactes: Marian, Guy, the Sheriff
Spoilers: through 2x13
Warnings: character death
Word Count: 1100
Disclaimer: The characters are, of course, not mine. They belong to the BBC & Tiger Aspect.
one.
The Sheriff saw her reflection in the pitcher, but turned only in time to watch as the sword ran him though. Time slowed and stretched between them, white faces mirroring each other and the shine of the sword too bright between them. Marian knew she should stab him again, make it go quicker, but she could only stand, pale and trembling, and watch as the Sheriff slid to the floor. Blood began to seep out around the blade, darkening the fabric of his coat.
Then there were guards, but blood gurgled up in the Sheriff's mouth when he tried to speak. Marian sat against the wall, knees tight to her chest. Guy's footsteps sounded through the hall, skidded to a stop yards away. She heard the painful thump as he fell to his knees on the stone floor. "Marian, what have you done?" he cried out in anguish.
And with that she felt the fire burn up in her again, numbness giving way to certainty that she had acted for the best.
"Saved us all."
two.
It was out of desperation that she finally decided on her plan. She went to see Guy, who was packing in the chamber he sometimes slept in after a particularly long day in Nottingham. He was startled to see her; she'd never come to this room before. Marian suppressed her desire to look around and licked her lips in nervousness.
"Marian, what do you need?"
"Must you go?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Guy set down the parcel he was holding and turned to face her, his expression one of pleased surprise. "I am afraid I must. I have an important matter to attend to."
Marian forced herself to put one foot in front of the other, to close the distance between them. "How long will you be gone?"
"Months, perhaps half a year. Does that sadden you?" he asked softly, seeing her dismayed expression. He layed a hand on her arm, his touch light.
Suddenly she launched herself into his arms, pulled his head down to hers, claimed his lips. She poured all of her fears into that kiss, all of her frustration, anger, and pure, pent-up lust. She twined her fingers in his hair, let a hand stray just under the edge of his jacket.
Guy pulled back, gasping. "Marian . . ." he began, wonder in his voice.
"Do not go," she said, her hand firm on his bare skin. His expression became solemn. "Or if you are not at liberty to promise that, then let me come with you." Guy drew Marian close and stroked her hair, took her hand in his against his chest.
"That would make this trip so much better. But I do not think the Sheriff would allow that."
Marian took a deep breath and prayed silently that Robin would forgive her. "Not even if I were your wife?" she asked, heart pounding in her ears.
Guy stiffened and pulled away, studying her face intently. "Marian, do you mean that?"
She dropped her head. "I do."
Guy pressed her to him, taking her lips in a crushing kiss. "Saints, Marian," he murmured, then kissed her again in a gentler, but no less passionate fashion.
"I will tell the Sheriff," he said moments later. "He cannot refuse me this." He squeezed her hand before walking out of the room with a spring in his step.
Now she had to come up with plans to stop--or if necessary kill--the Sheriff. It would be a long journey with ample opportunity. And really, her happiness was a small sacrifice for her country. Guy would be good to her, she told herself, though the words sounded hollow.
three.
"Where do you think we are?" Marian asked, looking away as Vaysey dug sand out of his ears. On the beach around them were strewn bits of wood and rope, the remnants of the passengers' luggage, and a few dispirited chickens. Marian scrubbed at the salt crusted on her face.
Guy was looking at the sky with his head cocked. "The sun's on the wrong side of the sky."
Vaysey and Marian turned to look at him. "The sun should be to our left. We're facing north."
Marian would never forget the transformation Vaysey's face underwent then. "You mean we're in Africa??!?" he howled, jumping on the sand with every word. Marian smiled to herself. Maybe there could be a silver lining to a shipwreck.
four.
Something in Marian snapped. She was so, so done with this. Faster than Guy could react, she clapped the tip of his sword between flat palms and pulled it to her breast.
"You'll have to kill me first," she hissed, "because if you don't, I will kill you even as you murder the King." Guy's battle-mad eyes seemed to focus somewhat. As he wrenched the blade from her grasp, Marian dropped to her knees and rolled, desperately seeking the king's sword. Her fingers touched the hilt and she lunged for it, twisting herself and angling the blade upward just as Guy pounded past her.
Shock ran across Guy's his face as he looked down to see the blade running up into his gut. He tottered before falling to his knees. He started to curl forward and stopped, white with pain. Marian, having now regained the ability to move, steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. Even if they were, at the very end, enemies, she was not cruel.
"Take it out please," he whispered, looking anywhere but down.
"You'll have to lie back," Marian said, sliding her arm under his shoulders. The sword came out with a sickening, slippery sound, and blood poured forth. The gorge rose in Marian's throat. No one ever said how bitter killing could be.
Guy grasped weakly at her hem and she moved up to cradle his head in her lap. No one deserved to go into death alone.
"I am," Guy said, barely audible, "I am sorry I could never be good enough for you."
All her remaining rancor left her, and she bent to kiss Guy's forehead. There were choices, yes, but there was fate too, sending them on paths and into situations they never would have imagined for themselves. How different things could have been, how a thousand small, seemingly unconnected choices had led them to this moment.
"I am sorry I was not able to give you everything to make you happy." For at this moment, she was. She clasped Guy's hand in hers, and stroked his hair while he breathed his last.
Rating: R
Charactes: Marian, Guy, the Sheriff
Spoilers: through 2x13
Warnings: character death
Word Count: 1100
Disclaimer: The characters are, of course, not mine. They belong to the BBC & Tiger Aspect.
one.
The Sheriff saw her reflection in the pitcher, but turned only in time to watch as the sword ran him though. Time slowed and stretched between them, white faces mirroring each other and the shine of the sword too bright between them. Marian knew she should stab him again, make it go quicker, but she could only stand, pale and trembling, and watch as the Sheriff slid to the floor. Blood began to seep out around the blade, darkening the fabric of his coat.
Then there were guards, but blood gurgled up in the Sheriff's mouth when he tried to speak. Marian sat against the wall, knees tight to her chest. Guy's footsteps sounded through the hall, skidded to a stop yards away. She heard the painful thump as he fell to his knees on the stone floor. "Marian, what have you done?" he cried out in anguish.
And with that she felt the fire burn up in her again, numbness giving way to certainty that she had acted for the best.
"Saved us all."
two.
It was out of desperation that she finally decided on her plan. She went to see Guy, who was packing in the chamber he sometimes slept in after a particularly long day in Nottingham. He was startled to see her; she'd never come to this room before. Marian suppressed her desire to look around and licked her lips in nervousness.
"Marian, what do you need?"
"Must you go?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Guy set down the parcel he was holding and turned to face her, his expression one of pleased surprise. "I am afraid I must. I have an important matter to attend to."
Marian forced herself to put one foot in front of the other, to close the distance between them. "How long will you be gone?"
"Months, perhaps half a year. Does that sadden you?" he asked softly, seeing her dismayed expression. He layed a hand on her arm, his touch light.
Suddenly she launched herself into his arms, pulled his head down to hers, claimed his lips. She poured all of her fears into that kiss, all of her frustration, anger, and pure, pent-up lust. She twined her fingers in his hair, let a hand stray just under the edge of his jacket.
Guy pulled back, gasping. "Marian . . ." he began, wonder in his voice.
"Do not go," she said, her hand firm on his bare skin. His expression became solemn. "Or if you are not at liberty to promise that, then let me come with you." Guy drew Marian close and stroked her hair, took her hand in his against his chest.
"That would make this trip so much better. But I do not think the Sheriff would allow that."
Marian took a deep breath and prayed silently that Robin would forgive her. "Not even if I were your wife?" she asked, heart pounding in her ears.
Guy stiffened and pulled away, studying her face intently. "Marian, do you mean that?"
She dropped her head. "I do."
Guy pressed her to him, taking her lips in a crushing kiss. "Saints, Marian," he murmured, then kissed her again in a gentler, but no less passionate fashion.
"I will tell the Sheriff," he said moments later. "He cannot refuse me this." He squeezed her hand before walking out of the room with a spring in his step.
Now she had to come up with plans to stop--or if necessary kill--the Sheriff. It would be a long journey with ample opportunity. And really, her happiness was a small sacrifice for her country. Guy would be good to her, she told herself, though the words sounded hollow.
three.
"Where do you think we are?" Marian asked, looking away as Vaysey dug sand out of his ears. On the beach around them were strewn bits of wood and rope, the remnants of the passengers' luggage, and a few dispirited chickens. Marian scrubbed at the salt crusted on her face.
Guy was looking at the sky with his head cocked. "The sun's on the wrong side of the sky."
Vaysey and Marian turned to look at him. "The sun should be to our left. We're facing north."
Marian would never forget the transformation Vaysey's face underwent then. "You mean we're in Africa??!?" he howled, jumping on the sand with every word. Marian smiled to herself. Maybe there could be a silver lining to a shipwreck.
four.
Something in Marian snapped. She was so, so done with this. Faster than Guy could react, she clapped the tip of his sword between flat palms and pulled it to her breast.
"You'll have to kill me first," she hissed, "because if you don't, I will kill you even as you murder the King." Guy's battle-mad eyes seemed to focus somewhat. As he wrenched the blade from her grasp, Marian dropped to her knees and rolled, desperately seeking the king's sword. Her fingers touched the hilt and she lunged for it, twisting herself and angling the blade upward just as Guy pounded past her.
Shock ran across Guy's his face as he looked down to see the blade running up into his gut. He tottered before falling to his knees. He started to curl forward and stopped, white with pain. Marian, having now regained the ability to move, steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. Even if they were, at the very end, enemies, she was not cruel.
"Take it out please," he whispered, looking anywhere but down.
"You'll have to lie back," Marian said, sliding her arm under his shoulders. The sword came out with a sickening, slippery sound, and blood poured forth. The gorge rose in Marian's throat. No one ever said how bitter killing could be.
Guy grasped weakly at her hem and she moved up to cradle his head in her lap. No one deserved to go into death alone.
"I am," Guy said, barely audible, "I am sorry I could never be good enough for you."
All her remaining rancor left her, and she bent to kiss Guy's forehead. There were choices, yes, but there was fate too, sending them on paths and into situations they never would have imagined for themselves. How different things could have been, how a thousand small, seemingly unconnected choices had led them to this moment.
"I am sorry I was not able to give you everything to make you happy." For at this moment, she was. She clasped Guy's hand in hers, and stroked his hair while he breathed his last.