Consequences ch2
The second part of my guy marian fanfic can be found here
rating: PG
notes: AU dont own, etc.
word count: 404
Sand spiralled in great clouds as the horses thundered towards the waiting ship, relentlessly urged forward by their riders. Behind them lay the devastation of the battle; Hoods dream of saving England lay dead on the ground.
Robin released a final futile arrow from his quiver, falling far short of its target. Mind racing, he frantically searched for a horse, Gisbourne would not, could not win. I’m coming my darling, he vowed, I’m coming.
***
Marian lay unconscious and still, Guy’s encircling arms lifting her from saddle. Her hair was sticky and wet under Guy’s nose, the metallic smell of her blood mixing with the sweet smell of salt air. Gently he carried her aboard the ship, ready to disembark toward the new England, and the new life it would bring them.
The tumult of thoughts inside his head was excruciating, pulling his mind in every direction. His heart told him she was lying, lying to protect Richard. After everything that had passed between them, it knew there was something there, hadn’t their kiss, and her returning to him from the convent, proved that she cared for him?
His head called his heart a liar, a blind fool, how could it not see she was manipulating him for her own end? It knew she sympathised with Hood, she was after all the Nightwatchman, even if she had nothing to do with Hood and his men.
The battle between heart and mind was lost; they would be together; Guy would do anything to make it happen.
***
From his vantage point atop the dune facing the port, Robin watched Guy, burning rage coursing through his veins, blood boiling at the sight of his enemy lovingly holding his betrothed. He signalled to his men, calling them forward, hastily preparing to attack, mind a blur of ill conceived rescue missions. He tried desperately to think of something solid and substantial.
Djaq gently laid a hand on his arm, silencing his attempts to voice a plan, “Robin, look” was all she said, her expression echoed in every face before him. Confused he spun around; the ship was leaving port, he was too late. They had escaped.
He roared like an angry bear, furiously running down hill, storming toward the harbour, instinctively assuming the chase, trying to charter a ship from an empty port.
Later, standing alone on the quay, a broken man, he swore he would have vengeance.
rating: PG
notes: AU dont own, etc.
word count: 404
Sand spiralled in great clouds as the horses thundered towards the waiting ship, relentlessly urged forward by their riders. Behind them lay the devastation of the battle; Hoods dream of saving England lay dead on the ground.
Robin released a final futile arrow from his quiver, falling far short of its target. Mind racing, he frantically searched for a horse, Gisbourne would not, could not win. I’m coming my darling, he vowed, I’m coming.
***
Marian lay unconscious and still, Guy’s encircling arms lifting her from saddle. Her hair was sticky and wet under Guy’s nose, the metallic smell of her blood mixing with the sweet smell of salt air. Gently he carried her aboard the ship, ready to disembark toward the new England, and the new life it would bring them.
The tumult of thoughts inside his head was excruciating, pulling his mind in every direction. His heart told him she was lying, lying to protect Richard. After everything that had passed between them, it knew there was something there, hadn’t their kiss, and her returning to him from the convent, proved that she cared for him?
His head called his heart a liar, a blind fool, how could it not see she was manipulating him for her own end? It knew she sympathised with Hood, she was after all the Nightwatchman, even if she had nothing to do with Hood and his men.
The battle between heart and mind was lost; they would be together; Guy would do anything to make it happen.
***
From his vantage point atop the dune facing the port, Robin watched Guy, burning rage coursing through his veins, blood boiling at the sight of his enemy lovingly holding his betrothed. He signalled to his men, calling them forward, hastily preparing to attack, mind a blur of ill conceived rescue missions. He tried desperately to think of something solid and substantial.
Djaq gently laid a hand on his arm, silencing his attempts to voice a plan, “Robin, look” was all she said, her expression echoed in every face before him. Confused he spun around; the ship was leaving port, he was too late. They had escaped.
He roared like an angry bear, furiously running down hill, storming toward the harbour, instinctively assuming the chase, trying to charter a ship from an empty port.
Later, standing alone on the quay, a broken man, he swore he would have vengeance.