Choices - Part II
Spoilers: references to S1, 2, and 3
PG for romantice scenes
PG-13 for violent scenes
The first we see after the alternate ending to S2 is Guy's return from the Holy Land.
Back in England, Gisborne rides the final stretch home. The yellowish glow of candlelight flickers past its windows beckoning him. A courier had brought him word two weeks ago that his bride was there awaiting his return.
Five seconds after boarding the ship home, Marian unlocked herself and Friar Tuck from the chain Guy had used to trick the Sheriff into believing Marian was not only a wife, but also a prisoner. Five minutes after arriving on Locksley’s doorstep, accompanied by her guard turned friend and confidant, she was fighting back unshed tears. There were no smiles, no embraces. Only the somber "Yes, M'lady" and "No, M'lady" of quelling disappointment. The servants had long prayed for her to be Lady of Locksley one day, but not like this. Not married to a sadistic master who seizes what is not his - the Manor, the servants, the land, the livestock. At first, they wouldn't listen to her. But in these last two weeks, they see she is as determined as ever to help. They understand Sir Guy has seized her, too.
Marian is taking her nightly bath downstairs warmed by the kitchen fire. Old Bess reads nearby at the kitchen table. Spurs jingling in the front hall hold Marian still, listening. She hears the murmur of his voice conversing with Thornton's. Stepping quickly out of the tub, Marian hurries to dress herself. She ignores the involuntary thrill that came the instant she heard his seductive voice. Suitably covered in her cream coloured robe, her red hair glowing by comparison, she looks at Bess, "He is back. Come with me?"
Bess nods, and together they enter the front hall. Sir Guy has longer hair than she remembers. He is standing with his back to her handing his gloves and coat to Thornton.
"Guy." He turns around. His face is harsher than she remembered. "What happened?"
While he travelled the long months home with what remained of the Sheriff's entourage, the dreams he had at night had haunted him. In his dreams, he was searching for her through forests and villages, the full knowledge of his entire being driving him on with no rest: he might never find her, and she is all he wants. Now, finally, after months of this grueling journey he is with the only woman he has ever loved. She is only an arm's length away. To his annoyance, she is greeting him with barely covered rosy skin that smells sweet. But, as he is acutely aware, all that can be between them is distance and separation.
Steeling himself against how he aches to end the nightmares and touch her, he answers, "Nothing worth telling you about."
Most men coming home would sweep their new brides off their feet and carry them upstairs, kissing, nuzzling, and laughing every step of the way. But this isn't any man. Thornton and Bess are not surprised by Gisborne's cold retort.
"Did you - is - " Marian's voice trails off. Her heart has stopped with the realization she might be married to the very man who has killed the King of England.
Guy's blue eyes stare into hers with an unblinking insolence as if daring her to say it. She holds his gaze, defiant. After a moment of glaring at each other, Guy turns on his heel and goes to mount the stairs to his bedchamber - what was once Robin's bedchamber. His silence has told her everything. He tried and failed.
She's not finished with him yet. Irritated he would not do her the courtesy of a civil reply, she marches up the stairs and raps on his door. "Guy!" Bess is below watching from the front hall, all that is between them is the banister. Thornton shuffles away to put away his master's gloves and coat.
From behind the door, a dismissal. "Marian, I'm tired."
"Guy! I have to know!"
The door is thrown open, and there is the image of the devil himself, dark, black, brooding with cold eyes glaring at her, his clothes half on, half disheveled. He had been getting ready to go to bed.
Marian doesn't even flinch, "Is Robin safe?"
This is no small torture, flaunting her "love" for the man he hates with her demanding questions. How can she be so unfeeling after all he has done for her? Controlling the urge to throttle her to her senses, he states flatly, "He is alive."
Guy tries not to pay attention to the most sweet smile he's ever seen as he shuts the door in her face.
In the upper room turned private aviary, the Sheriff takes a songbird into his hands and offers it with near tenderness to his falcon chained to its perch. The hawk accepts; he is ravenous. "Now that you're happily fed you'll be even more devoted to me, won't you," murmurs the Sheriff with quiet satisfaction. A few of the drops of songbird's blood fall unnoticed onto the back of his hand as he strokes the falcon’s breast.
There is the sound of footsteps behind him. The expected visitor has just arrived. Turning, he greets the stranger without pleasantries, "Ah. What news?"
"It’s proving to be impossible. She is never alone."
"I’ll see what I can do. Just do your job and make it look like an accident.”
The short, weasel looking man gives a visible squirm, "My Lord, what should I do if he catches me spying on his wife?"
Exasperated, the Sheriff chides, "Not spying. Trying to kill. Let's keep our terms accurate, shall we? I find it makes working relationships much more efficient. Send him to me. He'll come around. He always does. One songbird is as good as another, and Guy does enjoy the good things in life. In the meantime, he might be happier if he thinks he’s the one in control."
"As you wish…but may I ask?"
"What?" Must everyone who works for him be a dimwit?
"Why kill her at all? What has she done?"
"No one tries to kill me and gets away with it. I don't care if you're the Pope himself."
“M’lady, your husband left after receiving a message from the Sheriff.” Thornton is stoking the fire for Bess while Bess hurries about the kitchen to get Marian her breakfast. Marian nods her acknowledgement, then goes to Bess to rest her hand on Bess’s arm. Bess pauses her busy scurrying to look up. “It’s all right, Bess. Let’s have breakfast as always.”
Prior to Gisborne’s return, she and Marian would have breakfast together as equals. Now that the Master is back, Bess had assumed social classes had to be reinstated. With a shy smile, Bess steps away from the cupboard to give Marian room to help herself to a plate.
“Lady Marian?”
“Yes, Thornton?”
“A message came for you as well.” He hands her a folded parchment from the side pocket of his breeches.
Word has reached me that Robin Hood is back. Wait for me so that I may accompany you.
Your faithful servant,
Friar Tuck
A half hour later, Tuck strides into the yard at Locksley, walking stick in hand, “Lady Marian!”
Silence. Ah - she must be in the barn saddling the horses.
A quick search of the barn shows no Lady Marian, and one horse gone. Concerned for her safety, Tuck runs to the house to pound on the door. Why did she go alone?
Marian rides her horse full gallop through the forest, ducking low branches, leaning with her horse around the sudden turns in the meandering path. Arriving at the camp she knows as well as she knew her own home, she slides off her horse before he’s come to a stop, horse and rider both out of breath. Not wanting to waste time she heads for the hideout's entrance, opening her mouth to call “Robin” but a soft “Marian” tells her there is no need. From behind the trees, one by one, Little John, Allan, Much, and Robin emerge.
As determined as she was since she abruptly left her breakfast unstarted, Marian walks directly into Robin’s outstretched arms and into his tight embrace.
He chuckles, “Happy?”
“No.”
“No? How can this be?”
“I meet my fiancé a married woman.”
Robin leans away from her without letting go to better look into her face, “You’re still married to him?”
“Yes.”
“Why? Are you all right?" Robin fears Guy has broken his word to leave Marian alone. If so, the man is a worse than a lowlife. Robin sets a mental date to kill him.
“I’m fine, and you’re here. He kept his word about that as well.“
“No. He didn’t.”
“But you’re alive. He must have -“
“- It was Carter.”
“Then he must have sent word to Carter.”
“Guy was sorry to see me alive when I stopped him from killing the King.”
Marian stares at Robin as she grasps the implication. Guy misled her. He married her to keep her alive, yes. He has behaved as a perfect gentleman since his return, yes - she hardly sees him, he hardly speaks to her when she does. But saving Robin’s life? No, that was a lie. A lie by omission.
Little John gives a low growl, “Sir Guy, I do not like.”
Marian catches sight of Much wearing his usual expression of pained worry. To speak with him, she begins to pull away from Robin. Robin lets her go. Together, they make a reluctant separation. “What is it, Much?”
“You should have gotten it all over and done with on the boat.”
Allan nods his head in agreement, “Yeah, Marian. What are you doing still married him?”
“Because I would have had to go into hiding somewhere as an outlaw, wanted for the attempted murder of the Sheriff. In order to wait for you, I had to stay married to him.”
Robin knows Marian’s not admitting all of it, “You could have found a way even if you were an outlaw.”
“Once before he saved my life and all he asked in return was that I stay and make life bearable.”
“Oh, I can just see that,” scoffs Robin.
Marian frowns at Robin’s innuendo. Robin has the good manners to look chagrined. “So, I thought I could trust him in this charade. Besides, how would it look to the Sheriff if I ran away the first chance I got? The Sheriff might suspect the real reason why Guy married me. That could put Guy’s life in danger. I have to stay long enough to keep Guy’s reputation in tact.” Marian pauses.
Robin interjects with a sarcastic tone, “Tell me, exactly how many months does this marriage have to last in order to secure his- “ Robin shakes his head that this word part of any discussion about Sir Guy “- reputation?”
“What the Sheriff might do in retaliation is something we have to think about. I owe it to Guy to warn him when I'm leaving so he can make arrangements to protect himself."
“What? No talk of his qualities?”
Marian blushes. Robin’s touched a nerve. She changes the subject, “I’ve heard there’s going to be a meeting of the Black Knights soon. At Nottingham. If I remain Lady Gisborne long enough to find out the information you need -” fighting the fight has always brought Robin and her together.
But Robin is having none of it. “- What kind of a man would I be to let the woman I love stay married to a murderer to fight for a cause? I don’t understand why it has to be a joint decision with him. Leave him. Now.”
“I can’t. Not yet. I wouldn't be here with you now if it wasn't for him.”
“I think you’ve been married to him far too long already. We’re together now. You don’t need his protection anymore. You’re not alone anymore, Marian. I love you.” Robin steps close to her, and places one arm barely resting around her waist, using it to pull her toward him ever so slightly, “Be with me.”
Marian raises her chin, “I can find out about the Black Knights better this way. You know I can.”
Allan cannot hold his tongue any longer, “He wanted us all to die, Marian! None of us can trust him, especially you!”
Robin looks at her carefully, then leans in to whisper into her ear, “You have feelings for him, don’t you?”
Angry at the accusation, Marian answers, “I’ve told him who I love.”
The gang is clearly uncomfortable with this raw, public exposure of feeling, and Marian is as well. “I better get back before I’m missed.” Without giving Robin a chance to talk her out of it, Marian gets back on her horse and with a kick into her horse’s flanks, she vanishes between the trees, into mist of Sherwood Forest.
Gisborne enters as a page refills the Sheriff’s goblet with watered red wine. In the great hall of Nottingham Castle, the Sheriff sits alone before the remains of his breakfast - a piece of bread. “You wanted to see me?”
"Yes. I want to speak to you about your blushing bride." He waves the page's hands away from the goblet with impatience, and lifts it for a quick sip.
Guy knew this would come. At some point, his unconsummated marriage would start the villagers’ uncut tongues wagging and the Sheriff would start asking questions. Guy standing with his arms crossed raises an eyebrow with an expression of mock curiosity, any panic for Marian’s life securely stifled.
The Sheriff rolling the goblet between his two hands, lifts his eyes to view what must be an uninteresting ceiling of plaster and beams. "Explain to me Gisborne, why your marriage is so oddly full of constant company?" He lowers his eyes to direct an authoritative gaze at Gisborne’s.
Trying to sound bored, Guy replies, "Because I forced her to marry me, I am giving her shall we say, 'time and understanding.’ "
The Sheriff laughs, "Oh, come off it, Gizzy. That old farting hag deserves whatever you want to dish out."
Gisborne’s bored expression falters slightly. The Sheriff’s attitude is germinating an anger beneath. With a forced smile, Gisborne tells the Sheriff, "My name carries respect and she is a Gisborne now."
The Sheriff lashes out, "You may be stupid enough to respect whichever leper you married, but whether or not she respects you is another matter!” The Sheriff holds a forefinger to his lips in a silent command to Guy to be quiet. With a frown the Sheriff pretends to ponder a serious thought until fanning of his short, chubby fingers away from his mouth, he sets free his profound conclusion. “Although, I can understand Lady Marian's reluctance to be alone with you. You came home without solid spoil of war to prove your worth as a husband. My falcon is a better man than you."
Gisborne warns, "Don't tell me how to conduct my affairs."
"I will and you will obey. Last time you ran your affairs without my help, she tried to KILL ME! Your ‘understanding’ proves you are a blind fool where Marian is concerned. I wouldn't want to find out she's lapsing into old ways," - mimicking Marian’s higher pitched voice - " oh, the poor, poor Poor. I must help them. And kiss Guy after so he’ll never think to stop me."
Guy contemplates what sweet joy it would be to put his hands around his mentor's throat, then squeeze hard enough to teach the Sheriff some manners. But that will have to wait. "That's why I pay Friar Tuck to guard her every move." The Sheriff is silent. "Is my lack of marital bliss all you wanted to discuss, my Lord?"
The Sheriff answers, "No. I want you to host the Black Knights. Have them stay at Locksley. Keep Lady Gisborne in her proper place. While the knights and their wives stay with you, I will be watching, Guy. See your wife behaves. "
"Will you tell the knights our latest plan?"
"Why do you think I invited them?"
Gisborne leaves to make preparations for the knights' arrival. He’s not looking forward to what will have to happen, and what he has successfully made a rare occurrence - being in the same room with Marian. He cannot avoid seeing her if preparations are to be perfect. Sullen, he wishes he could continue to avoid this thorn in his side. He needs a drink to dull his senses beforehand.
The Sheriff ponders the empty hall - oh, yes, the wheels are turning. True, watching them together they behave exactly as man and unwilling wife should, with a veneer of civil behaviour over a tangible, unpleasant tension. It's the "time and understanding" the Sheriff finds suspect. Of course, his leftenant imagines himself to be quite the high and mighty, so maybe this is part of being "noble," the idiot. Tossing the last of his watered wine to the back of his throat, he sets the goblet down as he stands to leave the hall. Still, something isn't right, not at all. Gisborne’s not usually understanding of another person’s feelings. Guy doesn't even understand his own.
Guy enters the downstairs hall of Locksley and calls into the manor with some urgency, "Marian!"
No answer.
More commanding, "Marian!"
Robin's old servant, Thornton, answers from the doorway to the kitchen, "Lady Gisborne left two hours ago, m’Lord."
Guy is annoyed. After bracing himself for a conversation with this temptress who behaves as though she is oblivious to the effect she has on him, he’ll have to wait and brace himself again. "Did she say where she was going?"
Thornton, dutiful, subservient, "No, my Lord."
“Was the leech with her?" Gisborne snarls.
"I believe Friar Tuck did accompany her, my Lord."
"You can go." She better be behaving herself. Right now, he’s certain she’s coming to trust him. But he’s just as certain if she should see Robin, Robin will tell her that he, Guy, didn't lift a finger to save Robin whilst they were in the Holy Land. If Marian finds that out, she'll stop trusting him. She’ll leave.
Too bad Robin didn't roast to death tied to his stake in the desert. More’s the pity, Robin has a certain charm all the girls swoon over, Marian being no exception. If only she’d see that married to him, Sir Guy of Gisborne, she can do more good - and on a grander scale - for the people of Nottingham from this her new position of some power and standing. He’d let her take her baskets of food to the poor, and he’d tell the Sheriff he was making the poor sell the food to pay Gisborne for the right to stay on his land. That would please the Sheriff, shut him up, and make things so he’d leave the Gisborne family alone. If only that insipid outlaw wasn’t around to distract her. In time, she would set aside her girlish notions about Robin Hood adventuring in the forest, robbing the rich to give to the poor. If she came to love her husband - catching himself, he realizes the Sheriff is right. He is a fool. Whatever stirrings Marian had once felt for Guy they had long been stilled by her view of what he does for a living. He calls it doing what he must to carve out a decent a life for himself, and for what he hopes one day will be his family. She called it ‘sacrificing compassion for power.’
Having just left Robin at his camp, Marian rides back to Locksley seething with anger. Yesterday, she would have said her relationship with Guy had been improving with newfound honesty. She had told him everything - her manipulations, her lies, who she loved. He forgave her with a kiss on the cheek then married her to protect her. He did not abandon her. And he had been the perfect gentleman ever since save for his ever present sullen mood. He had made promises and kept them. What Robin had just revealed has left her reeling. She has been wrong about Guy again; he is still a liar.
But he has saved your life. More than once. The intruding thought nags at her conscience. She will leave Guy, of course, but she refuses to cause him to lose his life when she does.
Why can’t Robin understand that? Why does it have to mean - as Robin accused - she might feelings for the conniving brute? She’s just being fair. She spurs her horse on faster. She never would have been in this position if it hadn’t been for Robin’s permission!
There is no time to comprehend why it is happening or how it is happening, only that an unseen force is snatching her body and throwing it against the nearest tree. Her head strikes the solid, immovable tree trunk in a blinding blow; her arm makes the frightening sound of a rapid crunching that has as its crescendo a sickening snap.
“Lady Marian!” Rushing up to her body so quiet upon the ground Much is out of breath. He lifts her head to cradle it away from the damp earth, rocks, and roots beneath.
“No! Don’t do that! Keep her back and neck lined up,” Allan pants, bending over her to take a closer look and to keep himself from passing out after their grueling run. They’d kept up with her by taking the outlaws’ shortcut. They’d arrived at the path on which she had been riding just in time to see her fall.
Allan takes a sharp, involuntary breath between clenched teeth not happy with how Much is going about it, “Gently!”
The fall had looked bad. Marian is bleeding heavily from her forehead. Her left arm is obviously broken. “She’s still breathing,” says Much after putting his ear close to her nose and mouth.
“Her horse isn’t.” Allan kneels beside her and with extreme care begins to inspect her arm. Marian gives a moan of consciousness awakening to pain. “Marian - can you hear us?”
“What happened?”
“You fell off your horse,“ answers Much.
Her eyes look glazed with shock, “Is he- ”
“He’s dead.” The regret in his voice is sincere. Much knows how much she loved her sleek, black stallion though she would never tell where she had gotten him.
Allan adds, “His neck looks worse than your arm.” A pause. “Can you move your fingers?” Marian does. “Toes?” Marian complies again. Much and Allan exchange a silent thanks to God over her head.
“Did Robin send you after me?”
“All our idea, Lady Marian” answers Much with pride. “We were right, too. Do you think you can stand?”
Allan has taken off his shirt and is pressing it against her head to stop the bleeding. “Give her a moment!” scolds Allan.
“Why did you come after me?” Marian’s head is clearing.
Allan, not taking his eyes off the deep gash as he tends to it, explains, “Back at the camp, you weren’t listening. Guy is money-grubbing. He’s power-thirsty. I can’t believe he’d marry you just to keep you safe. He wants something out of it, mark my words. What happens if a husband survives you? He gets all your family’s money, that’s what.”
“That won’t happen.” Guy would never do anything of the sort. He’s a killer, but to her, he’s been the opposite.
“Living with him makes your spying much more dangerous. If he catches you spying on the Black Knights, then -” Much signs his throat being slit with his hand.
“Well, I can’t very well do any spying from my bed recovering from all this - owwww!” Marian cries out and winces. She takes a deep breath then holds it, hoping that will stay the pain.
“That’s what you get for trying to sit up without help, Lady Marian.” Much has stated the obvious. Seeing she won’t stop trying, he and Allan help her, and she uses their help to keep going until she’s standing.
“I have to get back.” After short search for a more comfortable position for her arm with the help of her good one, Marian discovers resting her broken forearm up high against her chest helps ease the sharp, throbbing pain a bit. Holding her breath is not helping. Marian tries deep, slow breaths instead.
“How’s your head?” asks Much. The bleeding hasn’t stopped yet, but it’s slowing.
“I’m fine, except for my arm.”
“You don’t fall off horses, Marian.” Allan is tired of people not listening to him, and something is seriously wrong with this picture.
Silence. All three of them know she could ride this path blindfolded.
“Guy may search for me if I’m not back soon, and I cannot risk him finding me here in Sherwood Forest. Help me get to the edge of the road to Locksley at least.”
Allan bows. “Certainly, Lady Gisborne,” his tone laced with sarcasm.
“Thornton!”
“Yes, m’Lord?”
“Tell a guard to saddle my horse.” No Marian. It’s been four hours.
The shouts of his guards and the pounding of many hooves galloping into the yard draw Guy outside to investigate the commotion. Thornton follows, moving quite well for an elderly man whose feet don’t seem to lift off the ground under any other circumstance.
Flowing to surround them in a dusty swarm are the Black Knights, arriving on a herd of dark horses and a few black carriages in which, Guy presumes, their wives ride in luxury. With them, carried in the arms of one knight on his horse, is a familiar flame of red hair.
“Marian!” Guy is beside her in an instant, grabbing the horse’s bridle to bring it to a halt. Pale and weak from loss of blood, all Marian can manage is to lean over just enough to slip off the horse into his outstretched arms. She’s safe now. She allows the unconsciousness she had been fighting win.
“Marian,” he whispers into her hair. Guy feels an ache of fear closing rapidly around his heart. Why did he wait? Why didn’t he go in search of her as sooner? Where is that damn Friar Tuck? He presses his lips against her forehead, noting with trepidation her hair is matted with blood, thankful her skin is warm.
“So she is your wife. She looked so bad we didn’t think so. Otherwise we would have let her in a carriage with ours.” It is the rider who carried her who is speaking. Guy’s lethal capabilities are conveyed to him with Guy’s ice cold stare. Squirming with discomfort, the knight hurries to correct his cavalier attitude toward his host. “I apologize, Sir Guy. Is there anything we can do?”
Guy is not pacified. “You’ve done enough,” he scowls. “You have my permission to make use of the guards and servants as you will. We are not prepared for your comfort. You were not expected for another week.” With that, Guy turns on his heel and strides toward the house, carrying Marian in his arms. Cradling her head against his shoulder, he holds it still with his chin. With one arm wrapped as far around her as he can manage he keeps her broken arm immobile. Thus, Sir Guy of Gisborne carries his bride over the threshold for the first time.
Bess gasps with alarm when she beholds Sir Guy taking upstairs what looks - is that her mistress who is injured? She runs upstairs to catch up until she is tagging close behind. Only then does she slow to match Gisborne’s pace. Arriving at Marian’s bedchamber door, he kicks it open and takes her inside.
Keeping the power of his strength in check, he uses only just enough of it to give Marian as little pain as possible as he lays her down on her bed. He goes to her feet and tugs ever so gently at her shoes. Then, wordlessly, Sir Guy of Gisborne goes to adjust the bedcovers around her, his touch tender. To Bess, he looks like a selfish giant tending to his fragile garden with devotion.
Ignoring the mayhem that is unfolding downstairs as the Black Knights and their wives invade their home, Guy commands in a quiet, steel voice not to be questioned, “I don’t care who. I don’t care how. Get her the best. Now!”
Bess nods her head vigorously, her hand now pressed hard against her mouth, her eyes spilling with tears. Guy has moved aside, allowing Bess her first complete view of her mistress’s injured arm. It is bent into an unnatural position, and twisted so that her hand is facing the wrong direction. Bess’s dress whips around and billows as she flees the room. Already, the healer is not here fast enough.