Fic - Through the Looking Glass (Robin Hood)
Title: Through the Looking Glass
Rating: pg-14, warning for slight torture but nothing worse then we’ve seen in the show, and if that’s not your thing just don’t read the last section
Pairings: Robin/Marian, hints of Guy/Marian and slight, one-sided Allan/Marian (if you squint)
Setting: AU
Spoilers: 2.13
Summary: Three paths that were never taken.
Disclaimer: Belongs to the BBC
A/N: Just three ideas I had for AUs but I didn’t want to write the whole thing. Three vignettes. This is my first foray into Robin Hood fandom and I’m supper excited! Hope you all enjoy it.
1.
He didn’t even have to close his eyes anymore to see the men he killed three years ago. They spent every moment with him now. Allan a Dale’s charming smile. Will Scarlett’s brooding dark looks. Luke Scarlett’s eager innocence. Benedict Giddings’ large, sad eyes. They were all looking at him now, judging him now that he had nothing left and nothing to show for their deaths.
Robin had tried. He had kept the people of Locksley fed and paid their taxes from his own coffers until the town and its people could get back on their feet. By the next season Locksley had begun to flourish again, but it didn’t last long. The more hope his people had, the higher his taxes were. Locksley could just not afford it.
The Sheriff and Gisborne took great pleasure in riling him up at the council of nobles and Guy’s wooing of Marian drove him to distraction, even if he wouldn’t admit it. But Robin didn’t lose hope until Sir Edward’s untimely and very suspicious death. Because it wasn’t long after that Marian and Guy were married. He might have been able to carry on, but without Marian…
“Well, my lovely, it’s time.”
Robin looked up at the unkempt and molding jailer. The man had a gleam in his eye.
“No one to save the great Earl of Huntingdon, of Locksley, the people’s Lord…”
Robin let the man slap irons on his wrist and led him from the cell. His entourage followed him looking at him with expressions that were very clear to a man walking to his death. It’s your turn now.
As Robin walked the steps to the gallows, he wished he could look Guy and Vasey in the eye and hold his head high. But all Robin could see were their eyes. It’s your turn now.
A quick glance at Marian and Robin closed his own eyes.
It’s my turn now.
2.
“Gisborne? Now remind me, where is that again?” The hall burst into laughter at Lockesly’s joke, but Guy didn’t think it was very original, or very funny.
So he stood stock still in front of the long table and waited for the chuckling to die down. It had been a long ride from the coast. He was tired and covered in dust. All Guy wanted at that moment was to deliver his letter and relax in a tepid bath. He was not going to stand here so the fair haired Earl of Huntingdon could use him as a whetstone.
Five years serving the king in Acre and this is what he was reduced to. Guy was starting to wonder why he had decided to come back to England anyway.
The man next to Huntingdon finally held up his hand and the room fell silent. Guy didn’t know who he was - the man had not said a word and they had not been introduced - but there was something about the small balding man that made Guy think twice. This was the man who held the power around here.
With the attention of the hall, Guy gave a quick bow to the man in black. “I have a letter from the King for the sheriff of Nottingham.”
The man’s eyes lit up. “That would be me.”
“Sir Edward on behalf of King Rich- ”
“It’s Vasey,” the man said, picking at his nail.
Guy frowned, unsure, the letter in his hand still held out to the man. “This letter is for Sir Edward of Knighton Hall, the sheriff of Nottingham.”
Vasey ripped the letter from his hand and broke the seal. “Edward has been worm food for thee years now,” he said, uninterested in anything but the letter. “You may go.”
Not really sure what had just happened, or what kind of court he had stepped into, Guy didn’t move from his spot. “That letter is for - ”
The Earl slammed his goblet on the table. “You were dismissed, Gisborne.”
One last shake of his head and Guy stormed from the room, he hadn’t been in Nottingham for more then a few hours but already he was sick of the place and sick of it’s condescending nobles. He was a Gisborne, he didn’t have anything to prove to them.
***
Pulling on his gloves, Guy stepped out into the castle courtyard early the next morning, eager to be gone from Nottingham. He was more then a little surprised to see the crowd of people gathered around the gallows and the score of nobles waiting on the steps, including the dark haired wife of Huntingdon, the Lady Marian. She had been the only decent person in the castle; having come by his rooms to make sure his was comfortable. Guy had been sorry to hear that it was her father the sheriff had talked so rudely about early and had apologized for bringing the subject up. Lady Marian had acted just like a noble lady should, but he noticed that she did not seem happy. He knew it was inappropriate, but Guy had also not been able to help himself from noticing just how beautiful she was.
“Why you’re just in time, Sir Guy.”
Robin had come up next to him and he looked particularly cheerful. Guy’s gut twisted in disgust for the other man. “For what?”
“Why a hanging of course!” Locksley slung his arm around Guy’s shoulder. “Three of my own peasants stole flour from the castle and they caught a man from Rochdale poaching in Sherwood.”
Guy must have heard wrong. A hanging? “Surely that’s not worth more then a sound lashing or a day in the stocks?”
"The law is being subverted. We must make an example or we risk rebellion," the Sheriff said as he came up behind them. "Now lets get this over with, I'm missing breakfast."
Maybe it was Guy’s utter distaste for the sheriff and his pet, the Earl of Hutingdon. Maybe it was Marian’s soulless eyes boring holes into the back of his head. Maybe it was the fact that deep in his heart, Guy knew it was just the right thing to do. Whatever the reason, Guy drew his sword and barreled his way towards the four dangling men, determined to cut them down. He didn’t know their names, he didn’t know if they were guilty or not and he didn’t care.
There were shouts and the clash of swords, arrows whizzed past Guy’s head. It would have probably been faster with a bow, but he had never been a very good shot so they were going to have to make due with his sword. The two youngest boys he cut down were rushed away by the crowd, the two men stood by his side. Guy would later learn their names were Will Scarlett and Allan a Dale but for the present moment the three men were more intent on escaping then exchanging pleasantries. It wasn’t easy and Guy knew the peasants would pay dearly for helping them out, but the three men managed to cut their way through the castle guards, grab a couple of horses and disappeared into Sherwood Forest.
“I’m not being funny,” began the lighter haired man as he started a fire, “but why’d you risk your neck to help us?”
“I’m not sure,” Guy said finally.
It seemed to be enough of an answer for the other two men, but Guy wasn’t satisfied. He didn’t know what had made him give up everything he had earned at the king’s side to turn outlaw in Nottingham, but he didn’t intend to stay very long. Whether or not the other two wanted to live in the forest, Guy had intended to head south and rejoin the king as soon as possible. But days turned into weeks and before long, Guy’s little band had grown from the three of them to include a servant of Locksley’s who talked to much, a towering half giant who barely talked at all and a Saracen girl disguised as her dead twin brother. They weren’t the kind of people Guy thought he would ever enjoy spending time with - thieves, con artists, servants - but they grew on him.
Soon his dreams of being granted land, titles and bringing new glory to the Gisborne name had all but disappeared in his new quest to help the people of Nottingham. He still didn’t know what made him care about peasants that weren’t even his but it didn’t really seem to matter any more. Because after all the years of searching for his purpose, of trying to find his lot in life and proving that the Gisborne name still had some honor to it, Guy of Gisborne had finally found the respect he so craved.
Except he wasn’t Guy of Gisborne anymore. Now they called him Guy of Sherwood Forest.
3.
Allan a Dale had never considered himself a very brave man. He was quick with his tongue. It had saved him from a hanging on more then one occasion. It had also gotten him into a hangman’s noose once, but that was beside the point. He wasn’t brave. When faced with death Allan would rather run. He was no martyr. He was no Robin.
But seeing Guy standing over Marian with a horse whip stirred in Allan feelings that he had never before felt. It could have been bravery.
“You are not serious,” Marian said as she starred at Guy with those large blue eyes.
“I warned you, Marian,” Guy replied. He raised his arm, the whip dangling like a snake.
“You can’t do this, Guy,” he said, holding up hands and moving between Guy and his victim. Allan had been on the wrong side of Guy’s sadistic streak before; he couldn’t allow it to happen to Marian.
Guy paused for a moment, looking at Allan with dead eyes. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t,” he challenged.
“Right, ‘cause she’s a lady, Guy, not one of your horses.”
“She disobeyed me. She humiliated me in front of Vasey. Even worse, in front of King John. This cannot go unpunished.”
Allan rushed at Guy, struggling to get the whip from the other man. But Guy was much bigger then Allan and before he had even realized what he was doing, Allan found himself backhanded across the room. “Get out,” Guy roared angrily. “I’ll deal with you later.”
With one last lingering look at Marian, Allan left the room. He was a realist and he knew that against Guy there was nothing he could do to stop him. And he had tried, hadn’t he? It would probably cost him his comfy job with its benefits and steady pay but he had tried to save her. It wasn’t his fault.
So why couldn’t he get those sad blue eyes out of his head?
Allan sat outside the door, wincing every time he heard the crack of leather against human flesh. Marian’s screams were stifled at first, as if she was trying to keep them in, but it didn’t last long. After the third lash Marian’s screams faded into one.
Ten lashes later, Guy came storming out of the room, passing Allan without seeing him and disappeared down the hall. Allan didn’t wait. He ran into the room only to find a crying Marian still tied to the post and sagging against it. Her back was a mess. Strips of her green dress showed where the lash had fallen, dragging both fabric and skin without prejudice until blood poured from the wounds.
Allan immediately cut her down and helped her to the bed. Marian was sobbing into the pillow as Allan studied the wound. He would need clean water and bandages and he wished he had something to give her for the pain. It would hurt.
“Marian?” he said, softly. “I need to clean the wounds. It’ll be painful.”
She nodded and Allan took that as a sign to begin. Slowly he peeled away the silk, trying to ignore her anguished moans each time he touched her. It had to be done or infection would set in.
It was bad enough that she’d have these marks, this reminder, for the rest of her life. The most he could do was make sure she had that life to live.
As he cleaned and bandaged her wounds his mind began to whirl. Schemes and thoughts hatched and died as he worked his way through a plan that would see Marian safely out of the castle, because he knew that the best thing he could for Marian was to get her to Robin.
Allan moved to the side of the bed and forced Marian to look at him. “Do you trust me, Marian?” he asked. This plan would only work with a healthy dose of luck and Marian’s trust that he would see her safely through it.
She sniffed, wiped at the snot and tears on her face. “Yes.”
“Good, then I need you to put these back on.” He held out the iron manacles to her and as she clasped them back onto her wrists Allan knew that it was only her utter fear and hatred of Guy of Gisborne that made her do it. But as he guided her to the courtyard and ordered the guards to bring him Gisborne’s carriage, Allan realized that he wasn’t being brave. If he were brave he would have listened to Marian and helped her escape before they had gone to the Holy Lands. If he were brave he would have told Robin the truth about Gisborne’s offer. If he were brave, he would have chosen to die rather then betray his friends. And he knew why he had chosen not to do those things.
Allan didn’t like to be brave because being brave meant you had to play the hero and playing the hero usually meant death.
***
Allan drove the carriage as slowly as he could through the forest, making as much noise as possible and taking the roads that he knew Robin watched. But Robin didn’t come. Worried, Allan sent the two guards accompanying him into traps. But even with the clanging and the screaming of the hanging men, Robin didn’t come. So he took Marian straight to the camp, hard as it was to find a route big enough for the carriage. Robin wasn’t there. And they probably hadn’t been there for a very long time. There was rotting food in the storage cupboards; the fire was stone cold. Things were left haphazardly like they had gone in a rush and yet there were valuables that Robin would have never left if he was leaving for good.
Standing in the middle of his old home Allan found himself suddenly at a lost. What was he going to do with Marian now? He wouldn’t take her back to Gisborne and there was no way he was going to live out here in the cold and damp forest while he waited for Robin to come back.
Allan climbed back onto the carriage and started moving. His one thought was to get Marian as far away from this as possible. He’d come up with a plan when they needed one. It quick tongue had never failed him before. So he kept them moving, away from Gisborne and away from Nottingham.
And when he arrived a day later in Portsmouth, red-eyed from lack of sleep, horses about to drop from exhaustion and a feverish Marian, Allan took what money he had and bought them passage on a small freighter heading towards the German provinces. Count Frederic could offer Marian the sanctuary she needed, if she survived the journey. Then Allan could devote his time to finding Robin.
If Robin was still alive.