RH Fic: It Won't Be Easy 1/1
Title: It Won't Be Easy
Spoilers: AU ending for "A Dangerous Deal," so I suppose there might be some spoilers for that episode.
Pairing: Guy/Meg
Summary: Against all odds, Meg lived. Now Guy has to figure out what he feels for the girl who helped remind him who he is.
Genre: Fluff. Pure, unadulterated fluff.
Rating: PG
Word Count:1646
Disclaimer: Robin Hood is copyright to Tiger Aspect and the BBC. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.
Author's Notes: I wrote this for the lordgisborne community's Woobiefest 2012 that's going on right now. (If Guy isn't the textbook definition of a woobie, I don't know who it.) Also, I wrote this because I needed something sweet in my life with all the pain my other fandoms are putting me through.
In some ways, it had been easier when he thought she was dying.
Then, he had held her as he crouched on the forest floor, and the pain he felt at the thought of her dying because of him had been sharp and clear, like a knife parting skin on a cold morning. He knew the pain of loss, knew how to take it in, keep it close.
But Meg didn't die. Instead, Tuck found them and helped Guy carry Meg back to the outlaws' camp, and two days later, Robin's Saracen and her carpenter turned up unannounced. Djaq and Tuck spent the next week hovering over her like a pair of hens while Guy kept a watchful distance.
And now, she was mending, he was an outlaw, and nothing between them was simple.
There was no doubt in his mind that he cared for her. They had shared too much for him to deny it. When he saw her up and walking around the camp, helping Djaq with her herbs, laughing at one of Allan's jokes, he was as relieved to see her alive as he had been the first time she opened her eyes after her long sleep.
None of the other outlaws questioned her when she sat close to Guy at meals, or when she leaned on his shoulder while they all sat talking around the fire late into the night. And he had grown used to having her there, to turning around to find her smiling at him, to the way she laughed, innocent and impish at the same time. To the way she laid her hand on top of his...
No.
He would not let himself love her. He would not ask her to love him in return. She was young, scarcely more than a girl, and he had lived too much, done too much, to burden her with his past. She had done him a great service, and he would do her one in return by leaving her alone.
Besides, even if she gave him her love freely, he would feel as if he had stolen something from her. A chance to be happy with someone younger, less careworn, less likely to die sooner rather than later…
There was a rustling in the brush nearby, and he had an arrow half out of his quiver before he heard a familiar voice.
"Guy?"
He turned to see the object of his thoughts making her way towards him. He also saw that Kate had loaned her one of her dresses. The skirts were too long, and the chest was too tight. He hated himself for noticing.
"I know that you're on watch… but can I sit with you?" she asked.
He could think of no good reason to refuse her, so he nodded, and she sat beside him, still moving carefully, with one hand over her injured side as she eased herself to the ground.
"You must get lonely out here by yourself," she said when he offered no topic of conversation of his own.
"I don't," he said. "I like the time alone with my thoughts. Camp's too full of chatter."
She narrowed her eyes. "Am I bothering you, then?" she asked. If he didn't know her, he would have thought her offended, but he could see the smile hiding behind her pout.
"No," he said. "You aren't."
"Sometimes I think I am," she said after a long pause. She was picking at a loose thread in her skirt. "Sometimes, you act like you can't even see me, and I wonder if you want me to leave you alone."
He knew he should tell her, I do. I wish you would. It would hurt her, but it would be for the best. But when he opened his mouth to say it, the words wouldn't come. Instead, he asked, "And what do you want?"
Her eyes widened. He suspected that not many people have asked her that before,
"I want… I want you," she said, her chin tilted up defiantly as if daring him to question her.
He smiled and shook his head. "You're young. You don't know what that means."
Meg punched him in the arm, her thin fingers curled into a tight fist. He'd watched Allan teach her how to hit a man properly.
"What was that for?" he asked.
"You ask me what I want, and when I tell you, you say I don't know what it means," she said.
"Do you?"
She gave him an exasperated look. "Of course I do. I've known what it means for a long time, Silly. I asked you to kiss me, didn't I?"
Guy turned and looked at her sharply. It was the first time they'd spoken of the kiss they'd shared while she was wounded, and he had assumed that her memory of it was lost to the pain.
"You remember," he said carefully, trying not to let on just how well he remembered, too. How good it felt to kiss someone who truly wanted him to kiss her.
She laughed. "Do you think I'd forget that?"
"You were dying," he said. He could hear the desperation creeping into his own voice. It sounded a bit like anger, but she didn't flinch.
"I'm not dying now," she said.
And suddenly, her hand was pressed against his cheek, and she was kissing him. Before, he had been gentle, almost chaste. There was no heat in a last kiss with a dying girl. But this… this was different. She was warm and insistent and very much alive.
Guy pulled back, the sound of his ragged breathing loud in his ears.
"I won't let you do this," he said. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them.
"So the choice is yours alone?" she demanded.
"That's not what I meant," he snapped. "You… twist my words, make me sound like I mean things I don’t…"
"But you do mean it," she insisted. "Don't you see? You've decided that even though I care for you, and you care for me, that nothing can happen because… of some stupid reason you've made up, and I don't get any say in it. It's not fair, and you know it."
She was right. It wasn't fair. But then, life wasn't fair, and it was better she learn it now than later.
"Not fair, but for the best," he said.
She sighed, and she shifted her weight so that she was sitting next to him instead of leaning against him. "You said I was young before. That's it, isn't it?"
"Part of it," he said. She of all people deserved honesty from him, and it was surprisingly easy to speak the truth to her.
"I was old enough to decide to rescue you from Isabella's prison. Old enough to save your life from that guard's pike… and don't tell me I didn't need to do that. You would have been skewered if I hadn't gotten in the way. So… don't you think I'm old enough to know I love you?"
He really wished she hadn't said those last three words. He'd wanted to hear them for so long… from long dead parents, from the sister he'd left behind, from Marian… and now, Meg offered them to him freely, without conditions. All he had to do was let her.
"That may be true, but…"
"Don't you dare say you don't love me too," she said. "I may be young, but I'm not blind, and I'm not stupid."
"Now who's telling the other how he feels?" Guy asked wryly.
Meg glared at him. "But I'm right."
She was.
"And if you are? If I love you, the best way to show it is to stay away from you. My life isn't going to be long, Meg. My sister wants me dead, half of Robin's friends want me dead, and even if we survive until the king returns, he'll probably want me dead as well. I've given him enough reason."
She nodded, pensive now, instead of angry. Perhaps he was beginning to convince her that he was in the right. "When I was dying," she said at last, "I was glad I got to kiss you once. I thought it was all I'd have. And when I woke up, and I wasn’t dead… I was so glad that I was wrong. So… you think you don't have enough time, but me? I have much more time than I thought I would. And… I'd like to spend whatever time we have together, but if that's really not what you want…"
He looked away as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. It had cost her a great deal to say those words, and he knew it. A girl couldn't have done it. Only a woman would have had the grace to let him go. But if Meg was a grown woman… there was no need to protect her from herself, or from him.
His argument in shambles, there was only one thing do to.
"It won't be easy," he said.
He watched as her grey eyes widened with understanding. She reached out and took his hand.
"I know," she said, and she scooted closer to him and situated herself in the crook of his arm, her head resting against his shoulder.
"I've had little practice with… being in love. And… people have told that I'm rude." His lips curved into a half-smile. It felt odd to be joking about the day they'd met in Isabella's dungeons, but there was something right about it all the same.
Meg laughed. Then, she kissed him on the cheek and whispered in his ear, "I've had no practice, so I won't know the difference."
Guy smiled, and he was still smiling when she tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed him.
Spoilers: AU ending for "A Dangerous Deal," so I suppose there might be some spoilers for that episode.
Pairing: Guy/Meg
Summary: Against all odds, Meg lived. Now Guy has to figure out what he feels for the girl who helped remind him who he is.
Genre: Fluff. Pure, unadulterated fluff.
Rating: PG
Word Count:1646
Disclaimer: Robin Hood is copyright to Tiger Aspect and the BBC. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.
Author's Notes: I wrote this for the lordgisborne community's Woobiefest 2012 that's going on right now. (If Guy isn't the textbook definition of a woobie, I don't know who it.) Also, I wrote this because I needed something sweet in my life with all the pain my other fandoms are putting me through.
In some ways, it had been easier when he thought she was dying.
Then, he had held her as he crouched on the forest floor, and the pain he felt at the thought of her dying because of him had been sharp and clear, like a knife parting skin on a cold morning. He knew the pain of loss, knew how to take it in, keep it close.
But Meg didn't die. Instead, Tuck found them and helped Guy carry Meg back to the outlaws' camp, and two days later, Robin's Saracen and her carpenter turned up unannounced. Djaq and Tuck spent the next week hovering over her like a pair of hens while Guy kept a watchful distance.
And now, she was mending, he was an outlaw, and nothing between them was simple.
There was no doubt in his mind that he cared for her. They had shared too much for him to deny it. When he saw her up and walking around the camp, helping Djaq with her herbs, laughing at one of Allan's jokes, he was as relieved to see her alive as he had been the first time she opened her eyes after her long sleep.
None of the other outlaws questioned her when she sat close to Guy at meals, or when she leaned on his shoulder while they all sat talking around the fire late into the night. And he had grown used to having her there, to turning around to find her smiling at him, to the way she laughed, innocent and impish at the same time. To the way she laid her hand on top of his...
No.
He would not let himself love her. He would not ask her to love him in return. She was young, scarcely more than a girl, and he had lived too much, done too much, to burden her with his past. She had done him a great service, and he would do her one in return by leaving her alone.
Besides, even if she gave him her love freely, he would feel as if he had stolen something from her. A chance to be happy with someone younger, less careworn, less likely to die sooner rather than later…
There was a rustling in the brush nearby, and he had an arrow half out of his quiver before he heard a familiar voice.
"Guy?"
He turned to see the object of his thoughts making her way towards him. He also saw that Kate had loaned her one of her dresses. The skirts were too long, and the chest was too tight. He hated himself for noticing.
"I know that you're on watch… but can I sit with you?" she asked.
He could think of no good reason to refuse her, so he nodded, and she sat beside him, still moving carefully, with one hand over her injured side as she eased herself to the ground.
"You must get lonely out here by yourself," she said when he offered no topic of conversation of his own.
"I don't," he said. "I like the time alone with my thoughts. Camp's too full of chatter."
She narrowed her eyes. "Am I bothering you, then?" she asked. If he didn't know her, he would have thought her offended, but he could see the smile hiding behind her pout.
"No," he said. "You aren't."
"Sometimes I think I am," she said after a long pause. She was picking at a loose thread in her skirt. "Sometimes, you act like you can't even see me, and I wonder if you want me to leave you alone."
He knew he should tell her, I do. I wish you would. It would hurt her, but it would be for the best. But when he opened his mouth to say it, the words wouldn't come. Instead, he asked, "And what do you want?"
Her eyes widened. He suspected that not many people have asked her that before,
"I want… I want you," she said, her chin tilted up defiantly as if daring him to question her.
He smiled and shook his head. "You're young. You don't know what that means."
Meg punched him in the arm, her thin fingers curled into a tight fist. He'd watched Allan teach her how to hit a man properly.
"What was that for?" he asked.
"You ask me what I want, and when I tell you, you say I don't know what it means," she said.
"Do you?"
She gave him an exasperated look. "Of course I do. I've known what it means for a long time, Silly. I asked you to kiss me, didn't I?"
Guy turned and looked at her sharply. It was the first time they'd spoken of the kiss they'd shared while she was wounded, and he had assumed that her memory of it was lost to the pain.
"You remember," he said carefully, trying not to let on just how well he remembered, too. How good it felt to kiss someone who truly wanted him to kiss her.
She laughed. "Do you think I'd forget that?"
"You were dying," he said. He could hear the desperation creeping into his own voice. It sounded a bit like anger, but she didn't flinch.
"I'm not dying now," she said.
And suddenly, her hand was pressed against his cheek, and she was kissing him. Before, he had been gentle, almost chaste. There was no heat in a last kiss with a dying girl. But this… this was different. She was warm and insistent and very much alive.
Guy pulled back, the sound of his ragged breathing loud in his ears.
"I won't let you do this," he said. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them.
"So the choice is yours alone?" she demanded.
"That's not what I meant," he snapped. "You… twist my words, make me sound like I mean things I don’t…"
"But you do mean it," she insisted. "Don't you see? You've decided that even though I care for you, and you care for me, that nothing can happen because… of some stupid reason you've made up, and I don't get any say in it. It's not fair, and you know it."
She was right. It wasn't fair. But then, life wasn't fair, and it was better she learn it now than later.
"Not fair, but for the best," he said.
She sighed, and she shifted her weight so that she was sitting next to him instead of leaning against him. "You said I was young before. That's it, isn't it?"
"Part of it," he said. She of all people deserved honesty from him, and it was surprisingly easy to speak the truth to her.
"I was old enough to decide to rescue you from Isabella's prison. Old enough to save your life from that guard's pike… and don't tell me I didn't need to do that. You would have been skewered if I hadn't gotten in the way. So… don't you think I'm old enough to know I love you?"
He really wished she hadn't said those last three words. He'd wanted to hear them for so long… from long dead parents, from the sister he'd left behind, from Marian… and now, Meg offered them to him freely, without conditions. All he had to do was let her.
"That may be true, but…"
"Don't you dare say you don't love me too," she said. "I may be young, but I'm not blind, and I'm not stupid."
"Now who's telling the other how he feels?" Guy asked wryly.
Meg glared at him. "But I'm right."
She was.
"And if you are? If I love you, the best way to show it is to stay away from you. My life isn't going to be long, Meg. My sister wants me dead, half of Robin's friends want me dead, and even if we survive until the king returns, he'll probably want me dead as well. I've given him enough reason."
She nodded, pensive now, instead of angry. Perhaps he was beginning to convince her that he was in the right. "When I was dying," she said at last, "I was glad I got to kiss you once. I thought it was all I'd have. And when I woke up, and I wasn’t dead… I was so glad that I was wrong. So… you think you don't have enough time, but me? I have much more time than I thought I would. And… I'd like to spend whatever time we have together, but if that's really not what you want…"
He looked away as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. It had cost her a great deal to say those words, and he knew it. A girl couldn't have done it. Only a woman would have had the grace to let him go. But if Meg was a grown woman… there was no need to protect her from herself, or from him.
His argument in shambles, there was only one thing do to.
"It won't be easy," he said.
He watched as her grey eyes widened with understanding. She reached out and took his hand.
"I know," she said, and she scooted closer to him and situated herself in the crook of his arm, her head resting against his shoulder.
"I've had little practice with… being in love. And… people have told that I'm rude." His lips curved into a half-smile. It felt odd to be joking about the day they'd met in Isabella's dungeons, but there was something right about it all the same.
Meg laughed. Then, she kissed him on the cheek and whispered in his ear, "I've had no practice, so I won't know the difference."
Guy smiled, and he was still smiling when she tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed him.