Where Did It All Go Wrong? (Intercomm)
Title: Where Did It All Go Wrong
Author: eyrial
Pairing: Guy/Isabella (sibling not incest)
Rating: PG 13
Words: 4,806
Genre: General
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas in my head
Notes: Written for the rh_intercomm Challenge.
Summary: Isabella reflects on how things came to this
I don’t really know when everything changed, when Guy stopped being the older brother I loved and looked up to, the one who protected me when there was no one left. I don’t know when Guy became the monster he is now. He made my life a misery and showed no remorse, gone was the brother who would dry my tears and do anything to make me feel better, gone was the brother who even cared about me. Killing him became my obsession; I just had to make him pay. Now he’s lying dead by my hand on the cold floor of a darkened tunnel, so far from the life we had growing up as children, I can’t help but wonder. Where did it all go wrong?
With our father gone life was always that little bit harder, Guy hero worshipped him and took his absence so much worse than everyone else. But I was a girl so had never spent much time with him. He loved me I know that, but girls were supposed to be wives and mothers so I was left to be taught by women, my father’s priority would always be Guy and the estate. My mother always kept me close, was patient with me when all I wanted was to go and play with Guy outside, I didn’t want to learn to be a lady. She was gentle with me and never got angry, she was kind and warm when she explained that Guy didn’t want his little sister around and interfering with his man’s work. We were nobility and we both had our duties to perform, we both needed to learn our places. She dried my tears and comforted me, promising that one day I would understand and it wouldn’t be hard anymore.
Guy cared for me too, he often brought me home things after a very long day out when he knew I would have missed him. They were anything from a pretty pebble to decorate my room, some nice flowers he had spotted while out riding and stopped to pick or something he had bought. One day he saw me crying and asked what was wrong, I told him that I hated the work I had to do with mother and all I wanted was to learn with him, that I missed him when he spent all day out. The next day he came home with a small knife, its handle was wooden with some decoration which Guy had obviously carved in himself and in the centre were the initials IG. He came over to where I was sitting and crouched down beside my chair so that his face was on a level with mine, he smiled and held out the little knife for me to take after he’d checked that there were no servants around and mother was nowhere to be seen.
“Here you go Izzy, I’m going to teach you how to use it, that way you can learn both what mother wants you to and the kind of stuff I do like you want to. Now it’s not easy and it will take a lot of patience and practise but on the days when I have to go out you can practise and not miss me so much because you can think of all you have to show me when I get back. But this has to be our little secret, no one is allowed to know, especially not mother.”
Not long after this the news came that my father was dead, killed in the Holy Land, it hit all of us very hard. My mother was devastated and Guy was distraught, he spent several days not talking to anyone but rising early and leaving the house before anyone but the servants was up and returning late at night. My mother grieved silently and privately and understood Guy’s need to cope in his own way, I was saddened by the lack of feeling I felt at my father’s death. My memories of him were few and although I was saddened by the fact that I would never see him again and have the chance to become better acquainted with my own father I was not cut as deeply as my brother. After about a week Guy began to return to his normal self, he seemed determined to take our father’s place as head as the family and make him proud. He now had so much more to do but no matter how tired he was he always found time for me.
As the months went by I got better and better with my knife and Guy moved on to teaching me how to use a sword. He practised hard, using it as a way to prove he would be able to take over full responsibility for the estate. He had grown and changed but he still always cared for me, even more so with the death of our father he felt it was his responsibility to make sure I never suffered more than I had to. He praised my progress as I showed him all I had learned from him, I practised each new technique he demonstrated until it was perfect. I would never match any opponent in physique and strength but I was determined to use the agility my size gave me and made sure I had the technical skill that would make me a fearsome fighter despite my size and my sex. I was still young had a long way to go until I would be anywhere near a match for a full grown man but I was determined to prove my worth even though I was a girl. I never expected to have to use my skill but I wanted to have it. It empowered me, I was rapidly suffocating at the thought my life would be dictated to me by men. I would never be free. I had worked diligently with my mother ever since Guy had begun to teach me, I learned all it needed to be a good wife and mother to my own children when the time came without complaint. The time had long since passed when I cried because I couldn’t be with Guy; I worked quietly at what my mother wanted and all the while I knew I was doing more than she ever could. I could protect myself, I wasn’t going to be meek and dependant, Guy had unknowingly given me an escape from the life I was destined to lead.
My father’s return from the dead was a joyous occasion for us all; especially for Guy who could finally show his hero that he had become a man himself. However our happiness didn’t last long. I can’t help but wonder if Guy would be dead, if we would have suffered and become the bitter people we have grown to be if my father had just stayed dead. In many ways it would have been better of he had been killed in the Holy Land like we were led to believe, it was a hero’s death, much better and less painful for everyone. But he didn’t, I don’t blame him or anyone for what happened and how we are now but perhaps he should have let us carry on believing he had been slain in battle. The fact that he was a leper brought shame on the family and the fact that he returned meant he tore apart the life we had rebuilt. I understand his desire to see his family again just one last time, his children and the woman he loved, but his selfishness was our downfall. I do not know if I would have been happy if my mother had married Malcolm of Locksley but I know I would have given everything to stop her dying.
We were left alone in the world, just Guy and me against everything and everyone but we fought and we fought hard. Perhaps losing our father again was what made everything in Guy change, maybe it was the grief that sowed the seeds that would grow into a heartless, cruel man. I just don’t know. We were on the road for at least a month before we finally got to a port where we could stow away on a ship to France. We had no choice but to steal of beg for food along the way, Guy stole and I begged he didn’t want me to commit a crime and risk being outlawed. He also said people were more likely to sympathise with an eleven year old girl who had nothing than a sixteen year old boy who could easily work for his food. Every night he made me practise with my sword which he had stolen from a blacksmiths not far from Locksley, he was scared that I would be kidnapped or raped; I was small, young and vulnerable. He wasn’t satisfied until I was genuinely challenging him; he had grown very serious ever since we had been orphaned. It was a month until he genuinely smiled again; he smiled when I beat him. Even though he was tense, angry and grieving Guy still always made sure he looked after me. As well as teaching me to fight he was always gentle and careful to skirt any areas that posed danger, especially if it was me who was most at risk.
I was discovered stealing food on the ship bound for France, Guy had not been far behind me and had managed to dodge out of sight before we were caught. I silently made a motion for him to hide, I would be punished for my crime but my age, size and gender would keep me safe. Guy however would be in much more danger, he could even be killed if the crew so wished. The man who had caught me was low down in the ranks of sailors on board the ship; he was strong as he was only used for manual labour. His pay was probably very little and the conditions of him and his fellow members who did the same work as him were by far the worst. As the journey was from a northern port it was long so Guy and I had got to know the ship rather well as we looked for scraps to survive on. The man pinned me against the wall, he was sweating and filthy, he stank and I tried hard not to wrinkle my nose. I knew I couldn’t risk angering any of the crew in case they decided I should receive a serious punishment. He leered at me as I looked on in fear.
“You’re a pretty one aint cha? Wot’s a little girl like you doin’ on a big ship like this eh? Jus’ askin’ for trouble that is, wot wiv it being a ship full of men all far away from their wives. And you’re such a pretty little thing.” I stood dumb with terror as he increased the pressure he was using to keep me from escaping.
“Well I found you first and you can’t say fairer ‘an that. Finder’s keepers I always say, and well I can always share you once I’ve had my fun, I’m sure the boys won’t mind.” The intention I feared he had became clear as his free hand reached to unlace his tattered and torn breeches. He leered again as he slowly pulled at the knot. As soon as he saw what he was going to do Guy burst from his hiding place, he didn’t shout because he didn’t want to attract any attention and we were deep within the bowels of the ship in a corridor that was rarely used. His voice was full of menace as he advanced on the sailor whose breeches were now half undone.
“Unhand my sister.” The sailor only laughed.
“Oh this jus’ gets better an’ better don’t it? You’re big bruvva plannin’ on being the big ‘ero is ‘e? I don’t fink so”
“You think I’m joking? Believe me you had better let her go and leave here pretending that nothing happened, because if you go any further or dare breathe a word about us I swear I you will never speak to or touch another girl again. Let. Her Go.” Guy pulled out a knife he always kept on his person for such an occasion, once it was clear the sailor had no intention of stopping Guy was on him like a flash. He dived on his back before he had anytime to react; he pulled his arms behind him and slit his throat. I stood there shaking, watching the man bleed to death on the floor.
“Quickly.” He urged “We have to go before they find him; we have two more days before we arrive in France, and we have to stay hidden until then.” I was still stationary and Guy grew impatient. “Move!” He said and gave me a shove to get me going; it was all a needed and the two of us sprinted to the small place we had been sleeping in. Once we were sure no one had seen of followed us Guy allowed us to whisper, “Sorry Izzy, you shouldn’t have had to see that. I didn’t want to kill him but I couldn’t let him do that to you.”
“It’s alright, thank you for saving me, I’m sorry I was caught. I’m sorry I was too weak to defend myself.” I began to cry quietly as everything sank in, as I realised what that man had tried to do to me, with the shock of seeing him die and the thought that I hadn’t been able to protect myself. I had wanted so much to be independent and all I had done was got myself caught and put Guy in danger.
“Hey, don’t cry, it’s alright Izzy. You were scared and that’s fine, don’t worry about me I can handle it. I was so scared for you, now come on, perhaps we should sleep. It’s been a hard day and we can’t come out until we reach port, we don’t have enough food to last us for the two days we have left and we are going to have to relieve ourselves here because it’s not safe anymore. We’re not just stowaways anymore, I’m a murderer. When you’re asleep you don’t know you’re hungry and the less we eat the better, less mess. It’s going to hard but we can do it Izzy. You’re all I have now; I’m going to look out for you so don’t feel guilty about today because it’s not your fault. Good night, sleep well.” He gently wiped my tears then lay down beside me as we both curled up to sleep.
When the ship docked we managed to escape without being caught, so starving hungry, filthy, bedraggled and stiff we arrived in France. We travelled much in the same way as we did through England; the journey was much longer as we got lost several times along the way. We had never seen out mother’s relatives before and all we knew was the location of her town of birth which is where her family resided. Four months after our departure from Locksley we finally reached them, we were even worse off than when we had first arrived in France. It had been hot and the roads were dusty, it had been a long time since we had passed somewhere where we could wash so our clothes and skin were coated with a fine layer of filth. The dress I wore had once been finely made but had become it was unrecognisable, the skirt had several rips in it and the original colour had completely vanished. Exhausted we walked up to the front doors only to be chased away like stray dogs. After months of travelling we were stuck in the middle of France, abandoned by our own family with no where to go.
We found an abandoned barn and spent the night there, Guy rose early the next morning to try and find work in the village. He was strong and some of the older men needed help with manual labour, he was paid very little and some days could find no work at all but he earned enough to buy food and a new set of clothes. We remained in the barn, it had no obvious owner and no one chased us away, it was dilapidated but we were grateful for the shelter it provided. I too managed to find work, I had learned to sew with my mother and a seamstress was willing to take me on as an assistant. So for two years we survived, with nothing but each other. We had always been close but going through so much made us almost inseparable, I cooked and washed our clothes while Guy found a more permanent job and earned more money. He fixed the barn and we lived there permanently, there was a stream near by for water and trees for firewood.
One day Guy came into the barn and said “I have been thinking it through and I think we should go back to England, we’re alright here but all we’re doing is surviving, we’re nothing. In England our birth is known, you are thirteen now and I’m sure I can find you a husband, a decent respectable marriage. I can find a suitable position, something proper, like I was born to do. We’re not peasants Izzy, I’m sick of living like this.” There was little I could say to change his mind and soon we had left the village behind and were on our way home.
I was excited all well as apprehensive, I had never wanted marriage and despite the struggle I had enjoyed living in France. It was hard work and not what our noble birth had taught us we should do, but it was freedom, I wanted to return to our original status but I didn’t want to have to marry. I had no choice. Guy did his best to comfort me “It’s alright Izzy, you’re going to be fine, I’ll make sure you marry a good man. It won’t be as bad as you think, I promise.”
Once we were in England Guy found someone who was willing to marry me, he came to see me only once before he decided he wanted me as his bride. I was called into his presence and he looked at me like a piece of meat, there was a hunger in his eyes as he stared at me. He scared me. “Oh yes, you were right when you said she was pretty.” He said to Guy “and you and she are of noble birth you say?”
“Yes, that’s right; we were orphaned in a fire and lost all of our land. I aim to get it back.”
“Well she will do nicely I think, don’t worry, I shall treat your sister well. I am sure the two of you are quite attached to each other after all you’ve been through.” The two of them began to barter as I left the room.
So it was with dread I prepared for my wedding day, I clung fast to one thing. Guy had said he would never let me marry a bad man and that he would never lose me, I was all he had. Thornton may have scared me but I trusted Guy’s judgement, I also knew that if he was wrong I could tell him when he came to visit what Squire Thornton was like. I knew Guy would save me.
I was handed over just like I was chosen, like a choice piece of meat, it was when I saw Thornton give Guy money that I lost all faith. I saw the kind of man Thornton was but Guy had been blinkered by money. I was left to suffer at his hands while Guy could swan off and spend his new found riches. He never visited, he never saved me. I had feared that marriage would be an end to all my freedom but it was far worse, Squire Thornton took pleasure in making my life hell. It was five years before I realised that Guy was never going to come back. My husband was captivated by my beauty and he hurt me because he enjoyed seeing my pain. He forced himself upon me, enjoying the struggle and my humiliation as he degraded me. Soon I began to fight back, at first just as a temporary measure until Guy came and saw how I lived, later because I knew the only person who could save me was me. If I did something to displease him he would not rest until he exacted his revenge, he would beat me and then abuse me until he was finally happy that I was sufficiently punished. He would often chase me all around the house as I desperately tried to flee the pain I knew was going to come.
I didn’t blame Guy; I convinced myself that he knew nothing of what Thornton was truly like. Once I knew he was never going to come to me he became my obsession, I thought of him as the only way out of the life I now led. I planned my escape from Thornton in so many ways, thinking about the joyous reunion with the brother I had loved so much, the one who had looked after me and cared for me for years. He would be deeply sorry for what he had done and he would then go and help me get my revenge, we would go to my husband together and he would be punished for all he had done to me. I could see him suffer like I had. It was seventeen years before I finally plucked up the courage to escape, I was getting old and had still had no children and Thornton had begun to suspect that it was deliberate. In truth I fell pregnant twice, the first time I miscarried after one of my husband’s beatings, the second time I realised what life would be like for my child and beat myself. I also lived in fear that one of Thornton’s children would become like him. As I turned 30 the abuse worsened as Thornton panicked that I would soon be too old to bear his heirs. The level of violence became too much and I fled.
For so long I had wanted to see Guy again, to tell him what my life had been like since he had left me with Thornton. It was the thought of the caring boy I knew that spurred me on when Thornton’s men were on my heels, if I hadn’t known Guy was out there somewhere I would have given up on my life long ago. All I could think about was my survival; I had to stop worrying about my meeting with Guy and what I would say to him. I didn’t want to think about whether or not he knew, it made me falter, wonder if all I was doing was jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire. But I couldn’t help it and I was nearly captured, my doubts about Guy had finally caught up with me and my pace slowed enough for it to be dangerous. I was rescued at the last moment by a man I barely recognised to be the small cocky boy who had so tormented my brother. He clearly didn’t know me and although I had had no news of the outside world for the entire time I was my husband’s prisoner I thought it wiser to keep my real identity secret. Locksley and my brother had never got on and I didn’t want to create an enemy out of a friend by telling him of my shared blood with Guy. Robin’s company began to seem more welcome than that of Guy’s, now I had escaped he didn’t seem like the saviour I had built him up to be in my mind. It seemed safer to remain with Robin for the time being. He had grown up from the boy I knew, he was good looking in a classic way, and he was no longer scrawny but lean and muscular.
He protected me, it felt good to be in his arms as he heard a commotion, it was unlike anything I had experienced before. A simple gesture as he hid us, all embraces I had received from my husband has resulted in pain or humiliation. Or both. My husband’s sick obsession and his unquenchable desire for me, a desire that left him satisfied and me cold and bleeding on the floor, had given me a vague fear of all men. Robin’s presence didn’t evoke the same all consuming fear my husband’s did, where one mere glance from him could reduce me to a cowering wreck, Robin’s eyes did nothing but provoke smiles. It was strange and very new to me. It was nice. I enjoyed the feeling of being free and not knowing I had to be on edge because he would protect me, I still couldn’t guarantee that Guy wouldn’t just send me back to Thornton. As much as I loved my brother after so many years I didn’t know who he was anymore. All I had to go by was my memory, one that had been tainted by all I suffered in seventeen years of marriage. A marriage that he had arranged.
Then I saw him and realised what I was doing, for seventeen years I had been fixated on Guy, he had been my only hope. For the thirteen years before that I had worshipped him, he was the person I loved most in the whole world. He always had been. I couldn’t let myself give up everything for a filthy outlaw and his friends, regardless of looks, history or morals. Besides if it didn’t work out I could always go back to Robin, Thornton would never be able to find me in a forest. But this man I had seen, the tall, strong haunted man was my brother. He was the only family I had had left, he had loved me as a girl and looked after me above himself when everyone else had gone. I lost all doubt when I saw him; I refused to believe that my brother could have willingly sold me to that monster. I refused to believe that the boy who used to bring me flowers and carved a knife for me could be so heartless. No, I had to go back to him. I had got so far, I couldn’t just give up now.
I should have stayed. I gladly would have done if it meant my brother stayed who he used to be. I would gladly have stayed an outlaw in the forest, all by myself, or even worse just with Kate if it meant I could still have the man I loved. Becoming sheriff meant nothing, it all went wrong and now my empire, my dreams lie crumbled around me. Guy was a monster, no better than the husband I left.
But this sheriff is right, there’s no time for sentimentality, Guy let him down too. Somehow I still can’t let it go; now he’s gone I’ll never get back the brother I loved. If he hadn’t been caught in this power struggle, I can’t shake the feeling if it had just been me and him again. In Locksley or that barn in France again, together but alone, separate from everybody else, perhaps he would have come back. Perhaps we would both have healed.
It seems to take minutes for the flaming arrow to sail through the window and land on the barrel. It seems like hours after the sheriff says “Byzantine fire” I realise what this means, we all do. It seems fitting that I am to die; our lives have been nothing but pain from the day our father returned. I have lost my purpose, I have come to realise I have no reason left to live. Guy was the only one who made life worth living, since I was eleven years old. From the boy I loved, to my lifeline to the man I was desperate to kill. He has been all I’ve had, when I’ve loved him or hated him; he’s always been most prominent. I can’t live without him, and now I wont.
Well brother, I just said farewell but it seems we are to meet again. I hope that it wont go wrong, I know I was all you had too.
(Hah, just realised the irony of my icon)
Author: eyrial
Pairing: Guy/Isabella (sibling not incest)
Rating: PG 13
Words: 4,806
Genre: General
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas in my head
Notes: Written for the rh_intercomm Challenge.
Summary: Isabella reflects on how things came to this
I don’t really know when everything changed, when Guy stopped being the older brother I loved and looked up to, the one who protected me when there was no one left. I don’t know when Guy became the monster he is now. He made my life a misery and showed no remorse, gone was the brother who would dry my tears and do anything to make me feel better, gone was the brother who even cared about me. Killing him became my obsession; I just had to make him pay. Now he’s lying dead by my hand on the cold floor of a darkened tunnel, so far from the life we had growing up as children, I can’t help but wonder. Where did it all go wrong?
With our father gone life was always that little bit harder, Guy hero worshipped him and took his absence so much worse than everyone else. But I was a girl so had never spent much time with him. He loved me I know that, but girls were supposed to be wives and mothers so I was left to be taught by women, my father’s priority would always be Guy and the estate. My mother always kept me close, was patient with me when all I wanted was to go and play with Guy outside, I didn’t want to learn to be a lady. She was gentle with me and never got angry, she was kind and warm when she explained that Guy didn’t want his little sister around and interfering with his man’s work. We were nobility and we both had our duties to perform, we both needed to learn our places. She dried my tears and comforted me, promising that one day I would understand and it wouldn’t be hard anymore.
Guy cared for me too, he often brought me home things after a very long day out when he knew I would have missed him. They were anything from a pretty pebble to decorate my room, some nice flowers he had spotted while out riding and stopped to pick or something he had bought. One day he saw me crying and asked what was wrong, I told him that I hated the work I had to do with mother and all I wanted was to learn with him, that I missed him when he spent all day out. The next day he came home with a small knife, its handle was wooden with some decoration which Guy had obviously carved in himself and in the centre were the initials IG. He came over to where I was sitting and crouched down beside my chair so that his face was on a level with mine, he smiled and held out the little knife for me to take after he’d checked that there were no servants around and mother was nowhere to be seen.
“Here you go Izzy, I’m going to teach you how to use it, that way you can learn both what mother wants you to and the kind of stuff I do like you want to. Now it’s not easy and it will take a lot of patience and practise but on the days when I have to go out you can practise and not miss me so much because you can think of all you have to show me when I get back. But this has to be our little secret, no one is allowed to know, especially not mother.”
Not long after this the news came that my father was dead, killed in the Holy Land, it hit all of us very hard. My mother was devastated and Guy was distraught, he spent several days not talking to anyone but rising early and leaving the house before anyone but the servants was up and returning late at night. My mother grieved silently and privately and understood Guy’s need to cope in his own way, I was saddened by the lack of feeling I felt at my father’s death. My memories of him were few and although I was saddened by the fact that I would never see him again and have the chance to become better acquainted with my own father I was not cut as deeply as my brother. After about a week Guy began to return to his normal self, he seemed determined to take our father’s place as head as the family and make him proud. He now had so much more to do but no matter how tired he was he always found time for me.
As the months went by I got better and better with my knife and Guy moved on to teaching me how to use a sword. He practised hard, using it as a way to prove he would be able to take over full responsibility for the estate. He had grown and changed but he still always cared for me, even more so with the death of our father he felt it was his responsibility to make sure I never suffered more than I had to. He praised my progress as I showed him all I had learned from him, I practised each new technique he demonstrated until it was perfect. I would never match any opponent in physique and strength but I was determined to use the agility my size gave me and made sure I had the technical skill that would make me a fearsome fighter despite my size and my sex. I was still young had a long way to go until I would be anywhere near a match for a full grown man but I was determined to prove my worth even though I was a girl. I never expected to have to use my skill but I wanted to have it. It empowered me, I was rapidly suffocating at the thought my life would be dictated to me by men. I would never be free. I had worked diligently with my mother ever since Guy had begun to teach me, I learned all it needed to be a good wife and mother to my own children when the time came without complaint. The time had long since passed when I cried because I couldn’t be with Guy; I worked quietly at what my mother wanted and all the while I knew I was doing more than she ever could. I could protect myself, I wasn’t going to be meek and dependant, Guy had unknowingly given me an escape from the life I was destined to lead.
My father’s return from the dead was a joyous occasion for us all; especially for Guy who could finally show his hero that he had become a man himself. However our happiness didn’t last long. I can’t help but wonder if Guy would be dead, if we would have suffered and become the bitter people we have grown to be if my father had just stayed dead. In many ways it would have been better of he had been killed in the Holy Land like we were led to believe, it was a hero’s death, much better and less painful for everyone. But he didn’t, I don’t blame him or anyone for what happened and how we are now but perhaps he should have let us carry on believing he had been slain in battle. The fact that he was a leper brought shame on the family and the fact that he returned meant he tore apart the life we had rebuilt. I understand his desire to see his family again just one last time, his children and the woman he loved, but his selfishness was our downfall. I do not know if I would have been happy if my mother had married Malcolm of Locksley but I know I would have given everything to stop her dying.
We were left alone in the world, just Guy and me against everything and everyone but we fought and we fought hard. Perhaps losing our father again was what made everything in Guy change, maybe it was the grief that sowed the seeds that would grow into a heartless, cruel man. I just don’t know. We were on the road for at least a month before we finally got to a port where we could stow away on a ship to France. We had no choice but to steal of beg for food along the way, Guy stole and I begged he didn’t want me to commit a crime and risk being outlawed. He also said people were more likely to sympathise with an eleven year old girl who had nothing than a sixteen year old boy who could easily work for his food. Every night he made me practise with my sword which he had stolen from a blacksmiths not far from Locksley, he was scared that I would be kidnapped or raped; I was small, young and vulnerable. He wasn’t satisfied until I was genuinely challenging him; he had grown very serious ever since we had been orphaned. It was a month until he genuinely smiled again; he smiled when I beat him. Even though he was tense, angry and grieving Guy still always made sure he looked after me. As well as teaching me to fight he was always gentle and careful to skirt any areas that posed danger, especially if it was me who was most at risk.
I was discovered stealing food on the ship bound for France, Guy had not been far behind me and had managed to dodge out of sight before we were caught. I silently made a motion for him to hide, I would be punished for my crime but my age, size and gender would keep me safe. Guy however would be in much more danger, he could even be killed if the crew so wished. The man who had caught me was low down in the ranks of sailors on board the ship; he was strong as he was only used for manual labour. His pay was probably very little and the conditions of him and his fellow members who did the same work as him were by far the worst. As the journey was from a northern port it was long so Guy and I had got to know the ship rather well as we looked for scraps to survive on. The man pinned me against the wall, he was sweating and filthy, he stank and I tried hard not to wrinkle my nose. I knew I couldn’t risk angering any of the crew in case they decided I should receive a serious punishment. He leered at me as I looked on in fear.
“You’re a pretty one aint cha? Wot’s a little girl like you doin’ on a big ship like this eh? Jus’ askin’ for trouble that is, wot wiv it being a ship full of men all far away from their wives. And you’re such a pretty little thing.” I stood dumb with terror as he increased the pressure he was using to keep me from escaping.
“Well I found you first and you can’t say fairer ‘an that. Finder’s keepers I always say, and well I can always share you once I’ve had my fun, I’m sure the boys won’t mind.” The intention I feared he had became clear as his free hand reached to unlace his tattered and torn breeches. He leered again as he slowly pulled at the knot. As soon as he saw what he was going to do Guy burst from his hiding place, he didn’t shout because he didn’t want to attract any attention and we were deep within the bowels of the ship in a corridor that was rarely used. His voice was full of menace as he advanced on the sailor whose breeches were now half undone.
“Unhand my sister.” The sailor only laughed.
“Oh this jus’ gets better an’ better don’t it? You’re big bruvva plannin’ on being the big ‘ero is ‘e? I don’t fink so”
“You think I’m joking? Believe me you had better let her go and leave here pretending that nothing happened, because if you go any further or dare breathe a word about us I swear I you will never speak to or touch another girl again. Let. Her Go.” Guy pulled out a knife he always kept on his person for such an occasion, once it was clear the sailor had no intention of stopping Guy was on him like a flash. He dived on his back before he had anytime to react; he pulled his arms behind him and slit his throat. I stood there shaking, watching the man bleed to death on the floor.
“Quickly.” He urged “We have to go before they find him; we have two more days before we arrive in France, and we have to stay hidden until then.” I was still stationary and Guy grew impatient. “Move!” He said and gave me a shove to get me going; it was all a needed and the two of us sprinted to the small place we had been sleeping in. Once we were sure no one had seen of followed us Guy allowed us to whisper, “Sorry Izzy, you shouldn’t have had to see that. I didn’t want to kill him but I couldn’t let him do that to you.”
“It’s alright, thank you for saving me, I’m sorry I was caught. I’m sorry I was too weak to defend myself.” I began to cry quietly as everything sank in, as I realised what that man had tried to do to me, with the shock of seeing him die and the thought that I hadn’t been able to protect myself. I had wanted so much to be independent and all I had done was got myself caught and put Guy in danger.
“Hey, don’t cry, it’s alright Izzy. You were scared and that’s fine, don’t worry about me I can handle it. I was so scared for you, now come on, perhaps we should sleep. It’s been a hard day and we can’t come out until we reach port, we don’t have enough food to last us for the two days we have left and we are going to have to relieve ourselves here because it’s not safe anymore. We’re not just stowaways anymore, I’m a murderer. When you’re asleep you don’t know you’re hungry and the less we eat the better, less mess. It’s going to hard but we can do it Izzy. You’re all I have now; I’m going to look out for you so don’t feel guilty about today because it’s not your fault. Good night, sleep well.” He gently wiped my tears then lay down beside me as we both curled up to sleep.
When the ship docked we managed to escape without being caught, so starving hungry, filthy, bedraggled and stiff we arrived in France. We travelled much in the same way as we did through England; the journey was much longer as we got lost several times along the way. We had never seen out mother’s relatives before and all we knew was the location of her town of birth which is where her family resided. Four months after our departure from Locksley we finally reached them, we were even worse off than when we had first arrived in France. It had been hot and the roads were dusty, it had been a long time since we had passed somewhere where we could wash so our clothes and skin were coated with a fine layer of filth. The dress I wore had once been finely made but had become it was unrecognisable, the skirt had several rips in it and the original colour had completely vanished. Exhausted we walked up to the front doors only to be chased away like stray dogs. After months of travelling we were stuck in the middle of France, abandoned by our own family with no where to go.
We found an abandoned barn and spent the night there, Guy rose early the next morning to try and find work in the village. He was strong and some of the older men needed help with manual labour, he was paid very little and some days could find no work at all but he earned enough to buy food and a new set of clothes. We remained in the barn, it had no obvious owner and no one chased us away, it was dilapidated but we were grateful for the shelter it provided. I too managed to find work, I had learned to sew with my mother and a seamstress was willing to take me on as an assistant. So for two years we survived, with nothing but each other. We had always been close but going through so much made us almost inseparable, I cooked and washed our clothes while Guy found a more permanent job and earned more money. He fixed the barn and we lived there permanently, there was a stream near by for water and trees for firewood.
One day Guy came into the barn and said “I have been thinking it through and I think we should go back to England, we’re alright here but all we’re doing is surviving, we’re nothing. In England our birth is known, you are thirteen now and I’m sure I can find you a husband, a decent respectable marriage. I can find a suitable position, something proper, like I was born to do. We’re not peasants Izzy, I’m sick of living like this.” There was little I could say to change his mind and soon we had left the village behind and were on our way home.
I was excited all well as apprehensive, I had never wanted marriage and despite the struggle I had enjoyed living in France. It was hard work and not what our noble birth had taught us we should do, but it was freedom, I wanted to return to our original status but I didn’t want to have to marry. I had no choice. Guy did his best to comfort me “It’s alright Izzy, you’re going to be fine, I’ll make sure you marry a good man. It won’t be as bad as you think, I promise.”
Once we were in England Guy found someone who was willing to marry me, he came to see me only once before he decided he wanted me as his bride. I was called into his presence and he looked at me like a piece of meat, there was a hunger in his eyes as he stared at me. He scared me. “Oh yes, you were right when you said she was pretty.” He said to Guy “and you and she are of noble birth you say?”
“Yes, that’s right; we were orphaned in a fire and lost all of our land. I aim to get it back.”
“Well she will do nicely I think, don’t worry, I shall treat your sister well. I am sure the two of you are quite attached to each other after all you’ve been through.” The two of them began to barter as I left the room.
So it was with dread I prepared for my wedding day, I clung fast to one thing. Guy had said he would never let me marry a bad man and that he would never lose me, I was all he had. Thornton may have scared me but I trusted Guy’s judgement, I also knew that if he was wrong I could tell him when he came to visit what Squire Thornton was like. I knew Guy would save me.
I was handed over just like I was chosen, like a choice piece of meat, it was when I saw Thornton give Guy money that I lost all faith. I saw the kind of man Thornton was but Guy had been blinkered by money. I was left to suffer at his hands while Guy could swan off and spend his new found riches. He never visited, he never saved me. I had feared that marriage would be an end to all my freedom but it was far worse, Squire Thornton took pleasure in making my life hell. It was five years before I realised that Guy was never going to come back. My husband was captivated by my beauty and he hurt me because he enjoyed seeing my pain. He forced himself upon me, enjoying the struggle and my humiliation as he degraded me. Soon I began to fight back, at first just as a temporary measure until Guy came and saw how I lived, later because I knew the only person who could save me was me. If I did something to displease him he would not rest until he exacted his revenge, he would beat me and then abuse me until he was finally happy that I was sufficiently punished. He would often chase me all around the house as I desperately tried to flee the pain I knew was going to come.
I didn’t blame Guy; I convinced myself that he knew nothing of what Thornton was truly like. Once I knew he was never going to come to me he became my obsession, I thought of him as the only way out of the life I now led. I planned my escape from Thornton in so many ways, thinking about the joyous reunion with the brother I had loved so much, the one who had looked after me and cared for me for years. He would be deeply sorry for what he had done and he would then go and help me get my revenge, we would go to my husband together and he would be punished for all he had done to me. I could see him suffer like I had. It was seventeen years before I finally plucked up the courage to escape, I was getting old and had still had no children and Thornton had begun to suspect that it was deliberate. In truth I fell pregnant twice, the first time I miscarried after one of my husband’s beatings, the second time I realised what life would be like for my child and beat myself. I also lived in fear that one of Thornton’s children would become like him. As I turned 30 the abuse worsened as Thornton panicked that I would soon be too old to bear his heirs. The level of violence became too much and I fled.
For so long I had wanted to see Guy again, to tell him what my life had been like since he had left me with Thornton. It was the thought of the caring boy I knew that spurred me on when Thornton’s men were on my heels, if I hadn’t known Guy was out there somewhere I would have given up on my life long ago. All I could think about was my survival; I had to stop worrying about my meeting with Guy and what I would say to him. I didn’t want to think about whether or not he knew, it made me falter, wonder if all I was doing was jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire. But I couldn’t help it and I was nearly captured, my doubts about Guy had finally caught up with me and my pace slowed enough for it to be dangerous. I was rescued at the last moment by a man I barely recognised to be the small cocky boy who had so tormented my brother. He clearly didn’t know me and although I had had no news of the outside world for the entire time I was my husband’s prisoner I thought it wiser to keep my real identity secret. Locksley and my brother had never got on and I didn’t want to create an enemy out of a friend by telling him of my shared blood with Guy. Robin’s company began to seem more welcome than that of Guy’s, now I had escaped he didn’t seem like the saviour I had built him up to be in my mind. It seemed safer to remain with Robin for the time being. He had grown up from the boy I knew, he was good looking in a classic way, and he was no longer scrawny but lean and muscular.
He protected me, it felt good to be in his arms as he heard a commotion, it was unlike anything I had experienced before. A simple gesture as he hid us, all embraces I had received from my husband has resulted in pain or humiliation. Or both. My husband’s sick obsession and his unquenchable desire for me, a desire that left him satisfied and me cold and bleeding on the floor, had given me a vague fear of all men. Robin’s presence didn’t evoke the same all consuming fear my husband’s did, where one mere glance from him could reduce me to a cowering wreck, Robin’s eyes did nothing but provoke smiles. It was strange and very new to me. It was nice. I enjoyed the feeling of being free and not knowing I had to be on edge because he would protect me, I still couldn’t guarantee that Guy wouldn’t just send me back to Thornton. As much as I loved my brother after so many years I didn’t know who he was anymore. All I had to go by was my memory, one that had been tainted by all I suffered in seventeen years of marriage. A marriage that he had arranged.
Then I saw him and realised what I was doing, for seventeen years I had been fixated on Guy, he had been my only hope. For the thirteen years before that I had worshipped him, he was the person I loved most in the whole world. He always had been. I couldn’t let myself give up everything for a filthy outlaw and his friends, regardless of looks, history or morals. Besides if it didn’t work out I could always go back to Robin, Thornton would never be able to find me in a forest. But this man I had seen, the tall, strong haunted man was my brother. He was the only family I had had left, he had loved me as a girl and looked after me above himself when everyone else had gone. I lost all doubt when I saw him; I refused to believe that my brother could have willingly sold me to that monster. I refused to believe that the boy who used to bring me flowers and carved a knife for me could be so heartless. No, I had to go back to him. I had got so far, I couldn’t just give up now.
I should have stayed. I gladly would have done if it meant my brother stayed who he used to be. I would gladly have stayed an outlaw in the forest, all by myself, or even worse just with Kate if it meant I could still have the man I loved. Becoming sheriff meant nothing, it all went wrong and now my empire, my dreams lie crumbled around me. Guy was a monster, no better than the husband I left.
But this sheriff is right, there’s no time for sentimentality, Guy let him down too. Somehow I still can’t let it go; now he’s gone I’ll never get back the brother I loved. If he hadn’t been caught in this power struggle, I can’t shake the feeling if it had just been me and him again. In Locksley or that barn in France again, together but alone, separate from everybody else, perhaps he would have come back. Perhaps we would both have healed.
It seems to take minutes for the flaming arrow to sail through the window and land on the barrel. It seems like hours after the sheriff says “Byzantine fire” I realise what this means, we all do. It seems fitting that I am to die; our lives have been nothing but pain from the day our father returned. I have lost my purpose, I have come to realise I have no reason left to live. Guy was the only one who made life worth living, since I was eleven years old. From the boy I loved, to my lifeline to the man I was desperate to kill. He has been all I’ve had, when I’ve loved him or hated him; he’s always been most prominent. I can’t live without him, and now I wont.
Well brother, I just said farewell but it seems we are to meet again. I hope that it wont go wrong, I know I was all you had too.
(Hah, just realised the irony of my icon)