Denial, Ch. 60: Manipulation
Title: Denial, Ch. 60: Manipulation
Author: perteltote
Characters/Pairings: Marian, Guy, Allan, Vaizey
Mentions: Robin
Rating: R
Genre: melodrama...implied slash
Words: 3445
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe
Notes: This continues the 'Round-Robin' fic 'Denial'. Beta'd by robinfanatic , wastingyourgum ,darkentwisted & jagnikjen . Takes place in Acre, before Nottingham crew meets up with King Richard.
Summary: Do Marian, Allan and Guy escape the Sheriff's evil clutches? A clue, NO!
The preceding chapters most important to a full understanding of this include chpts 58, 51, 49, and 44, but you should, of course, read all of them :)
Previous chapter summaries & info about writing for Denial are here...
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Manipulation
by: perteltote
"Be quiet, Allan, let me think!" Surprisingly, Allan was quiet. The only reasonable explanation was that Allan must have his mouth full of food that he didn't want to share with her. How could he? He knew that she hadn't eaten in three days. She spun around in her saddle, harsh words about the evils of selfishness ready on her tongue only to stop with a gasp of shock.
Vaizey was behind Allan with a sword at his throat! He cackled with glee. "Thought I was asleep, didn't you Marian? Thought you and the boy would just waltz out of here with all the money and Gisborne...a clue, no!"
Marian tensed in her saddle and thought of spurring her horse -- she and Guy could still get away safely and return for Allan later. Vaizey clucked his tongue at her and shifted his eyes off to the side. Marian followed his gaze to the point of an arrow glinting in the moonlight. She swallowed convulsively as she identified several of the Saracen guards Vaizey had hired upon their arrival in Acre.
"That's right, missy, out of the saddle! Now."
She looked at Allan, and he shook his head slightly as Vaizey pressed the sword tighter against his throat. Marian slid slowly off of the horse, hands raised where Vaizey could see them, as the man forced Allan down to his knees. The sheriff waved guards in to hold him there, then stepped away while watching the kneeling Allan with a lascivious eye. When Allan dropped his gaze, Vaizey strutted over to Marian, eyed her closely before running his hands lewdly down her body and pulling Guy's dagger away from her waist. He pulled the second dagger out of her hair and, as it tumbled down around her shoulders, he lifted a fat lock to his nose. She couldn't help flinching as he leered at her and inhaled the scent with relish.
He eyed her up and down again before smiling at her sweetly and then barking, "Guards! Bind her!" He watched intently as they pulled her wrists behind her, "Ah, much better, make sure you pull that tight... mustn't let this pretty bird escape, and if she's in a little pain as well... so much the better."
He waved the guards to drag them away before commanding the rest to carry Guy back upstairs. As they pulled Guy's motionless body off of the horse, Marian began to struggle furiously against her bonds. "No! What are you doing with him? You leave him alone!"
Vaizey cackled in amusement, then moved closer, close enough for her to feel his breath on her chest.
"Feeling protective are we? Well don't. You'll never understand him, you'll never be able to give him what he needs... and don't worry, I won't do anything I haven't done before." He laughed again and ran a hand gently through Guy's hair as he watched to see her reaction. She struggled unsuccessfully to keep the revulsion out of her face and he giggled maniacally.
Riding an overwhelming surge of protective rage, she ignored Allan's pleading gaze, and spat, "You bastard! How old was he when you found him? How old was he the first time you...? I'll kill you if you hurt him again!"
"Oh, my, yes, you are getting attached...well, we'll have to fix that," Vaizey said while idly running his thumb along Guy's jawline. She gathered her breath to reply, but as her mouth opened he snapped, "Get her out of my sight. NOW!"
>>>------------------------->
At first light, Marian blinked and opened her eyes. With relief, she felt Allan, still warm against her back where the sheriff's men had dumped him. She shifted on the lumpy mattress, trying not to wake him. She winced as the metal of the manacles dug into skin already raw from weeks of being shackled. Rolling awkwardly up into a sitting position, she glanced around the small room. It was little better than a storeroom, dust and bits of trash covering every surface. There was nothing that looked to be of any use and only one window, small and barred. She looked back at Allan; he was bruised from the rough handling of the night before, but appeared fine otherwise. His hands were tied behind him, and the bonds looked painfully tight -- she could see the flesh spilling out between dark loops of rope. She scooted further away and carefully rose to her feet. Forcing her bound legs to work in tandem, she hopped over to the only piece of furniture in the room aside from the bed they had been left on.
Settling back in the chair she sighed in relief -- at least now if anyone came in she could face them with a little dignity, but she needn't have worried. The light outside the window changed from grey to white to golden yellow, and still, no one came.
Eventually, Allan woke with a snort and a muffled curse. He wriggled into a seated position, and his eyes roamed around the room before settling on her. He stared for a moment, and as she stared back, a small smile crept onto his face.
"Now this is about the worst, innit?"
Marian felt the corners of her own mouth twitching and nodded agreement -- things were so bad, they were almost... laughable. She stifled a small giggle as Allan rolled his eyes.
"Not bein' funny, but the only way things could get worse would be..."
At that moment, the door burst open, and Vaizey came bouncing in. "Wonderful, wonderful... you're both awake." He favored them with a decidedly unpleasant smile before continuing, "Can't wait to tell you our, and, by that, I mean my plans."
Marian balled her hands into fists as she watched the odious little man. She caught Allan shaking his head at her out of the corner of her eye, but the words burst out of her mouth anyway. "What have you done with him? Where is he?"
"Who? Allan? Why...he's right here next to you, my dear. Didn't you see him?" He giggled as she felt her face flush red with anger.
"Oh, you mean Gisborne?" The amusement left his face as he crossed the room, a menacing snarl taking its place as he grabbed her arms and wrenched them painfully against the manacles.
Stifling a yelp, she rose to a crouch as Vaizey twisted.
"You listen to me," he hissed. "You are a two-faced, fickle, leper of a woman, and he will never care for you again -- I'll make sure of it."
Even twisted in pain as she was, she straightened to her full height and stared right back into Vaizey's eyes as she spoke. "You perverted sadist! However long you've been demeaning him with your twisted desires, it's over! He's seen the truth, and he won't listen to your lies anymore!"
Surprised and somewhat taken aback by her vehemence, Vaizey dropped her arms and stepped away. He studied her carefully with narrowed eyes as she stood panting with unsatisfied rage.
"Hmm... yes... interesting. I believe the poor boy was right after all... there is something between you." He tapped his lip in thought. "Well, I'll disabuse you of that quickly enough... you think I force my desires on him, do you? Poor Guy, the lost little boy, the unwilling participant? A clue! No! What you don't understand about Gisborne is that he likes it." She shook her head in denial as he leaned in closer, dropping his voice to an intimate whisper. "Oh, yes... in fact, I'd say he loves it." Vaizey giggled again and then abruptly turned to face Allan. "Just ask your friend Allan how much our... Gizzy... likes it. Oh, yes, he knows quite well."
She stared at Allan in horrified disbelief as he dropped his gaze, refused to meet her eyes. "No, it's not true... I won't believe it," she said, shaking her head weakly.
"Oh, yes... yes, it is. Quite. True. And do you know who else could have told you about Gizzy's proclivities? Just think of your father, dear old Sir Edward... all those lonely nights in the dungeon... all that time Sir Guy was looking after him... what do you think he was so eager to escape from in the end, hmmm?"
Vaizey cackled in glee as she collapsed back into her chair. "Mmmm, yes... any fond messages you'd like me to give Gisborne when I see him... No? What a surprise!" He flashed her a toothy grin and snarled, "Enjoy the rest of your life -- a small hint -- there's not much of it left." He slammed the door on his way out.
They sat in silence for a few more moments before Marian stood and hopped back across the floor to sit next to Allan.
"Allan", she said reluctantly, "you have to tell me. Is it true?"
He sat staring at the toes of his boots before slowly raising his eyes to hers. "Giz and me... we... yes, it is, we did."
She involuntarily flinched away in disgust as her expression hardened.
Allan blanched, and his eyes grew large as he took in her expression. He pulled back slightly, not wanting to force a touch that she clearly found revolting, but then she leaned back against him and laid her head gently against his shoulder.
"No, Allan, I don't think any less of you... it's just that Guy... after having that done to him, how can he do it to other people? How could he? Doesn't he know it's a sin?" Her voice suddenly rose to a shriek and she buried her face in his chest. "My father! Allan, my father! How could he?" She began sobbing as she choked out, "He promised me! He promised me he would look after him!"
Allan felt hot moisture seeping through his shirt and wished that his hands were free so that he could calm her.
"Marian... Marian, hush... you know it's not like that with Guy. It was never like that. It was... he is..." Allan hesitated before continuing, "He can be kind and gentle and... it was... yeah... sometimes it was loving, and I always thought if you and he, I mean... well... he loves you, you know? He could've made you happy."
Marian jerked upright and turned her tear-streaked face up to him.
He flinched at the fury in her eyes.
"How can you say that? How can you even think it! He is a sodomite and a liar, and what about my father? How could he do that to my father?" She stared at him, her eyes demanding, her hair wild.
He hedged, "He was good to your father. I saw it, I did! Always bringing him blankets 'n extra food 'n such. I never saw anything bad like that with your father."
Marian, sharp as always, caught the omission. "But what about other prisoners? What did you see with other prisoners?"
Allan looked away again, unable to meet her eyes because he didn't want her to read what he had seen, what he had done.
"Allan? Tell me."
He sighed, feeling his own culpability weighing on him like one of the fat purses Guy had used to pay him. Finally, he spoke reluctantly and with his eyes still averted. "Well, you know... it's like this.... There's lots of bad stuff as goes on in the dungeon, and that particular bad stuff is just part of the deal, innit it? But Marian... come on, you can't take Vaizey's word, can you? You don't know..."
He heard her breath hiss out. "I will never forgive him."
She lay down and turned her face to the wall; the conversation was over.
>>>------------------------->
Guy's eyes fluttered open. Blinking, he focused on the ceiling, on one particular large crack that slashed across the room. Thought slowly returned to his bleary mind. Marian! Groaning, he forced his body up to sitting, saw bandages covering his arms and felt another, tight around his neck.
He was in her room, in her bed, he could still smell her in the blankets, and it was wonderful, heavenly, even. His brow crinkled in confusion, and he raised a hand to his head. What was he doing here? Straining, he was able to recall opening the door to the room he shared with Vaizey... Vaizey! He had wanted to...! He had...! Experimentally, Guy clenched his fist. Well, he was alive. Still.
The door creaked and he looked frantically for a weapon, and seeing nothing of use, he tried to push himself up to standing. His head spun and his trembling legs refused to support him. He collapsed back onto the bed as the door slid open and a person -- a Saracen? -- came in. Seeing him awake, the man rushed over and began pushing him back down in the bed while babbling in Arabic. Guy snarled and tried to resist, but the man easily overpowered him. Holding him down, the man looked into his eyes, and obviously searching for words, began to speak in barely comprehensible French. "Doctor... I am doctor... very ill... you lie down, yes?"
Guy reluctantly nodded agreement -- he would not get far at the moment anyway. Relief filled the man's face as he released his grip on Guy's shoulders and stood.
"Food, very important, you eat." He clapped his hands and shouted. Guy watched warily as a second Saracen brought a tray of food in. The doctor said, "Yes, you eat. I go," and unceremoniously left the room.
Guy eyed the flat bread and yellowish goop with distaste. He had never liked the food here. He was still frowning down at it when he was surprised by hot breath on the back of his neck. He started, and quickly tried to rise again, but hands on his shoulders gently pushed him back. The hands began to slide, caressing his shoulders and threading through his hair. He knew even before the man spoke -- Vaizey.
"My dear boy, so glad you're finally awake. Things have been so terribly, stultifyingly, incomprehensibly dull without you or your pets. I thought that I might die of boredom -- these Saracens are absolutely no fun at all." The hands started a slow slide down his chest, and Guy quickly reached up to grab them.
"My Lord, please, I am... indisposed... why am I here? Where is Marian? Why have I not seen Allan?"
Vaizey quickly withdrew his hands in annoyance and moved around to perch on the edge of the bed, facing Guy. He spoke carelessly, but kept a sharp eye on Guy's face.
"Oh, your pets? Didn't I say? They've run off together -- straight to Hood, I imagine. I suppose they always did like him better..." His eyes sparkled as loss and anger filled Guy's face. "Yes, don't know what they see in that pathetic do-gooder that they don't see in you... heroism? Selflessness? A sense of humour perhaps?" A cruel smile curled his lips as Guy fisted his hands in the blankets and stared down at them. "I'm surprised you're so concerned about them... they were in such a hurry to see Hood, I'm afraid they left you here to die. Messy business, that, blood everywhere. This physician is costing an arm and leg, but I'm not worried -- it'll come out of your wages."
Amazingly, despite the prodding, Guy did not explode into rage, just continued staring down at his hands. He even managed to keep his face carefully expressionless as Vaizey reached up to stroke his hair again.
Vaizey dropped his voice to a whisper. "You should have known, Guy; you should have remembered all the other betrayals... you know you only have me... no one else to depend on... no one else at all. You know no one else could ever love a villain like you... but I love you, Guy, and I will reward you for your services. Are you ready to prove your loyalty?"
Guy remained still, impassive, and Vaizey reached his free hand down to the hilt of his dagger as the silence dragged on. As he eased it slowly out of the scabbard, Guy suddenly turned his head back up and spoke, eyes glittering with some indeterminate emotion.
"I will... I am ready."
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Vaizey lounged in his room, feet propped on the windowsill. He wiggled his toes in the sunlight and sighed in contentment. Yes... all was as it should be. Marian would hate Gisborne to her last breath, and he would make sure that came soon -- preferably in front of Hood. Though Hood was still alive, Vaizey found himself almost... pleased... with the turn of events. He'd loved watching the leper squirm while the bidders had inspected her, but this would be even better. He'd thought of gutting her in front of the outlaw ever since he'd met him; he had known the man still loved her the first time he had seen them together. He chuckled to himself. Seriously, how blind could Gisborne be? Vaizey had seen their deaths in his dreams many times since Hood had killed his Davina.
A pigeon in the crate behind him cooed, interrupting the pleasant vision of his hands tightening around Marian's neck. His fingers twitched. No! He mustn't play with the birds, there were messages to carry yet. He mustn't hurt them -- at least not until after he was sure they were no longer of use.
And Gisborne -- the clod -- would nothing convince the man that his so-called 'love' was hopeless? He was still unsure of his loyalty despite all that had passed; Gisborne was becoming much better at hiding his emotions. Well, he was still useful, regardless. Vaizey smiled to himself -- and useful in so many ways. Wiggling his toes again, he let his thoughts drift to Allan, locked up in the small room below. The boy was still so... impressionable. Well, compared to Gisborne anyway. And that bleating leper! Vaizey had never seen anyone so naive! He giggled, he would have to fix that, and soon, before he killed her.
Later, once the sun had sunk below the horizon, Vaizey drifted down towards the basement room, but not before dropping in on Guy to see that the man was once again sleeping. He smiled at the idiot's unconscious form; no heroics this time. He picked up a tray of food on the way down; they had been given nothing since he had captured them, and that would make them... pliable. Chortling with glee, he tipped an envelope of a powdered mixture into one of the wine goblets -- Allan would be more than pliable now, but none for Marian. He wanted the girl to remember.
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The next morning, Allan woke suddenly, eyes snapping open in unfocused panic. He stirred uneasily and grimaced in disgust as he felt the sheets sticking to his face in a puddle of drool. He blinked several times trying to clear his vision; his head was crowded with the leftovers of some right disturbing dreams and he felt an urgent need for some distraction. He shuddered as one particularly harrowing detail drifted to mind, and then, shockingly, felt a warm body snuggle closer. Oh shit. Or were those vague mental images actually memories?
His last clear memory was of Vaizey giving him a goblet of wine to 'relax' him. Shit. Oh shit. Oh SHIT. Marian! He looked around the room wildly, ah, there she was. He let his breath out in a silent whistle as he looked her over. She was asleep, still bound to the chair in the corner, her body sagging against the ropes. Fully clothed, thank God.
So the bastard had made her watch the whole thing. He could barely remember begging, pleading, groveling, to let it stop at that. Shit. He had pretty much promised his soul to Vaizey last night.
He shifted uncomfortably on the narrow bed, and clenched his jaw at the too familiar pain. Bad, but better than last time. He would be able to walk. Maybe. Probably. He felt a sudden twinge in his left arse cheek and gasped in horror as it triggered a memory he'd certainly rather forget. He clapped his hand over the pain and felt... No... it wasn't... it couldn't be... he slowly opened his hand to reveal... IT WAS! The diamond studded tooth glinted in the light, seemed to laugh at him before he flung it away in disgust.
Vaizey. He may have promised to do anything the man wanted, but Allan A Dale had never been known as a man of his word, and once he had Marian away safe...
On to Chpt. 61--> http://community.livejournal.com/rh_denile/28009.html
Author: perteltote
Characters/Pairings: Marian, Guy, Allan, Vaizey
Mentions: Robin
Rating: R
Genre: melodrama...implied slash
Words: 3445
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe
Notes: This continues the 'Round-Robin' fic 'Denial'. Beta'd by robinfanatic , wastingyourgum ,darkentwisted & jagnikjen . Takes place in Acre, before Nottingham crew meets up with King Richard.
Summary: Do Marian, Allan and Guy escape the Sheriff's evil clutches? A clue, NO!
The preceding chapters most important to a full understanding of this include chpts 58, 51, 49, and 44, but you should, of course, read all of them :)
Previous chapter summaries & info about writing for Denial are here...
>>>------------------------->
Manipulation
by: perteltote
"Be quiet, Allan, let me think!" Surprisingly, Allan was quiet. The only reasonable explanation was that Allan must have his mouth full of food that he didn't want to share with her. How could he? He knew that she hadn't eaten in three days. She spun around in her saddle, harsh words about the evils of selfishness ready on her tongue only to stop with a gasp of shock.
Vaizey was behind Allan with a sword at his throat! He cackled with glee. "Thought I was asleep, didn't you Marian? Thought you and the boy would just waltz out of here with all the money and Gisborne...a clue, no!"
Marian tensed in her saddle and thought of spurring her horse -- she and Guy could still get away safely and return for Allan later. Vaizey clucked his tongue at her and shifted his eyes off to the side. Marian followed his gaze to the point of an arrow glinting in the moonlight. She swallowed convulsively as she identified several of the Saracen guards Vaizey had hired upon their arrival in Acre.
"That's right, missy, out of the saddle! Now."
She looked at Allan, and he shook his head slightly as Vaizey pressed the sword tighter against his throat. Marian slid slowly off of the horse, hands raised where Vaizey could see them, as the man forced Allan down to his knees. The sheriff waved guards in to hold him there, then stepped away while watching the kneeling Allan with a lascivious eye. When Allan dropped his gaze, Vaizey strutted over to Marian, eyed her closely before running his hands lewdly down her body and pulling Guy's dagger away from her waist. He pulled the second dagger out of her hair and, as it tumbled down around her shoulders, he lifted a fat lock to his nose. She couldn't help flinching as he leered at her and inhaled the scent with relish.
He eyed her up and down again before smiling at her sweetly and then barking, "Guards! Bind her!" He watched intently as they pulled her wrists behind her, "Ah, much better, make sure you pull that tight... mustn't let this pretty bird escape, and if she's in a little pain as well... so much the better."
He waved the guards to drag them away before commanding the rest to carry Guy back upstairs. As they pulled Guy's motionless body off of the horse, Marian began to struggle furiously against her bonds. "No! What are you doing with him? You leave him alone!"
Vaizey cackled in amusement, then moved closer, close enough for her to feel his breath on her chest.
"Feeling protective are we? Well don't. You'll never understand him, you'll never be able to give him what he needs... and don't worry, I won't do anything I haven't done before." He laughed again and ran a hand gently through Guy's hair as he watched to see her reaction. She struggled unsuccessfully to keep the revulsion out of her face and he giggled maniacally.
Riding an overwhelming surge of protective rage, she ignored Allan's pleading gaze, and spat, "You bastard! How old was he when you found him? How old was he the first time you...? I'll kill you if you hurt him again!"
"Oh, my, yes, you are getting attached...well, we'll have to fix that," Vaizey said while idly running his thumb along Guy's jawline. She gathered her breath to reply, but as her mouth opened he snapped, "Get her out of my sight. NOW!"
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At first light, Marian blinked and opened her eyes. With relief, she felt Allan, still warm against her back where the sheriff's men had dumped him. She shifted on the lumpy mattress, trying not to wake him. She winced as the metal of the manacles dug into skin already raw from weeks of being shackled. Rolling awkwardly up into a sitting position, she glanced around the small room. It was little better than a storeroom, dust and bits of trash covering every surface. There was nothing that looked to be of any use and only one window, small and barred. She looked back at Allan; he was bruised from the rough handling of the night before, but appeared fine otherwise. His hands were tied behind him, and the bonds looked painfully tight -- she could see the flesh spilling out between dark loops of rope. She scooted further away and carefully rose to her feet. Forcing her bound legs to work in tandem, she hopped over to the only piece of furniture in the room aside from the bed they had been left on.
Settling back in the chair she sighed in relief -- at least now if anyone came in she could face them with a little dignity, but she needn't have worried. The light outside the window changed from grey to white to golden yellow, and still, no one came.
Eventually, Allan woke with a snort and a muffled curse. He wriggled into a seated position, and his eyes roamed around the room before settling on her. He stared for a moment, and as she stared back, a small smile crept onto his face.
"Now this is about the worst, innit?"
Marian felt the corners of her own mouth twitching and nodded agreement -- things were so bad, they were almost... laughable. She stifled a small giggle as Allan rolled his eyes.
"Not bein' funny, but the only way things could get worse would be..."
At that moment, the door burst open, and Vaizey came bouncing in. "Wonderful, wonderful... you're both awake." He favored them with a decidedly unpleasant smile before continuing, "Can't wait to tell you our, and, by that, I mean my plans."
Marian balled her hands into fists as she watched the odious little man. She caught Allan shaking his head at her out of the corner of her eye, but the words burst out of her mouth anyway. "What have you done with him? Where is he?"
"Who? Allan? Why...he's right here next to you, my dear. Didn't you see him?" He giggled as she felt her face flush red with anger.
"Oh, you mean Gisborne?" The amusement left his face as he crossed the room, a menacing snarl taking its place as he grabbed her arms and wrenched them painfully against the manacles.
Stifling a yelp, she rose to a crouch as Vaizey twisted.
"You listen to me," he hissed. "You are a two-faced, fickle, leper of a woman, and he will never care for you again -- I'll make sure of it."
Even twisted in pain as she was, she straightened to her full height and stared right back into Vaizey's eyes as she spoke. "You perverted sadist! However long you've been demeaning him with your twisted desires, it's over! He's seen the truth, and he won't listen to your lies anymore!"
Surprised and somewhat taken aback by her vehemence, Vaizey dropped her arms and stepped away. He studied her carefully with narrowed eyes as she stood panting with unsatisfied rage.
"Hmm... yes... interesting. I believe the poor boy was right after all... there is something between you." He tapped his lip in thought. "Well, I'll disabuse you of that quickly enough... you think I force my desires on him, do you? Poor Guy, the lost little boy, the unwilling participant? A clue! No! What you don't understand about Gisborne is that he likes it." She shook her head in denial as he leaned in closer, dropping his voice to an intimate whisper. "Oh, yes... in fact, I'd say he loves it." Vaizey giggled again and then abruptly turned to face Allan. "Just ask your friend Allan how much our... Gizzy... likes it. Oh, yes, he knows quite well."
She stared at Allan in horrified disbelief as he dropped his gaze, refused to meet her eyes. "No, it's not true... I won't believe it," she said, shaking her head weakly.
"Oh, yes... yes, it is. Quite. True. And do you know who else could have told you about Gizzy's proclivities? Just think of your father, dear old Sir Edward... all those lonely nights in the dungeon... all that time Sir Guy was looking after him... what do you think he was so eager to escape from in the end, hmmm?"
Vaizey cackled in glee as she collapsed back into her chair. "Mmmm, yes... any fond messages you'd like me to give Gisborne when I see him... No? What a surprise!" He flashed her a toothy grin and snarled, "Enjoy the rest of your life -- a small hint -- there's not much of it left." He slammed the door on his way out.
They sat in silence for a few more moments before Marian stood and hopped back across the floor to sit next to Allan.
"Allan", she said reluctantly, "you have to tell me. Is it true?"
He sat staring at the toes of his boots before slowly raising his eyes to hers. "Giz and me... we... yes, it is, we did."
She involuntarily flinched away in disgust as her expression hardened.
Allan blanched, and his eyes grew large as he took in her expression. He pulled back slightly, not wanting to force a touch that she clearly found revolting, but then she leaned back against him and laid her head gently against his shoulder.
"No, Allan, I don't think any less of you... it's just that Guy... after having that done to him, how can he do it to other people? How could he? Doesn't he know it's a sin?" Her voice suddenly rose to a shriek and she buried her face in his chest. "My father! Allan, my father! How could he?" She began sobbing as she choked out, "He promised me! He promised me he would look after him!"
Allan felt hot moisture seeping through his shirt and wished that his hands were free so that he could calm her.
"Marian... Marian, hush... you know it's not like that with Guy. It was never like that. It was... he is..." Allan hesitated before continuing, "He can be kind and gentle and... it was... yeah... sometimes it was loving, and I always thought if you and he, I mean... well... he loves you, you know? He could've made you happy."
Marian jerked upright and turned her tear-streaked face up to him.
He flinched at the fury in her eyes.
"How can you say that? How can you even think it! He is a sodomite and a liar, and what about my father? How could he do that to my father?" She stared at him, her eyes demanding, her hair wild.
He hedged, "He was good to your father. I saw it, I did! Always bringing him blankets 'n extra food 'n such. I never saw anything bad like that with your father."
Marian, sharp as always, caught the omission. "But what about other prisoners? What did you see with other prisoners?"
Allan looked away again, unable to meet her eyes because he didn't want her to read what he had seen, what he had done.
"Allan? Tell me."
He sighed, feeling his own culpability weighing on him like one of the fat purses Guy had used to pay him. Finally, he spoke reluctantly and with his eyes still averted. "Well, you know... it's like this.... There's lots of bad stuff as goes on in the dungeon, and that particular bad stuff is just part of the deal, innit it? But Marian... come on, you can't take Vaizey's word, can you? You don't know..."
He heard her breath hiss out. "I will never forgive him."
She lay down and turned her face to the wall; the conversation was over.
>>>------------------------->
Guy's eyes fluttered open. Blinking, he focused on the ceiling, on one particular large crack that slashed across the room. Thought slowly returned to his bleary mind. Marian! Groaning, he forced his body up to sitting, saw bandages covering his arms and felt another, tight around his neck.
He was in her room, in her bed, he could still smell her in the blankets, and it was wonderful, heavenly, even. His brow crinkled in confusion, and he raised a hand to his head. What was he doing here? Straining, he was able to recall opening the door to the room he shared with Vaizey... Vaizey! He had wanted to...! He had...! Experimentally, Guy clenched his fist. Well, he was alive. Still.
The door creaked and he looked frantically for a weapon, and seeing nothing of use, he tried to push himself up to standing. His head spun and his trembling legs refused to support him. He collapsed back onto the bed as the door slid open and a person -- a Saracen? -- came in. Seeing him awake, the man rushed over and began pushing him back down in the bed while babbling in Arabic. Guy snarled and tried to resist, but the man easily overpowered him. Holding him down, the man looked into his eyes, and obviously searching for words, began to speak in barely comprehensible French. "Doctor... I am doctor... very ill... you lie down, yes?"
Guy reluctantly nodded agreement -- he would not get far at the moment anyway. Relief filled the man's face as he released his grip on Guy's shoulders and stood.
"Food, very important, you eat." He clapped his hands and shouted. Guy watched warily as a second Saracen brought a tray of food in. The doctor said, "Yes, you eat. I go," and unceremoniously left the room.
Guy eyed the flat bread and yellowish goop with distaste. He had never liked the food here. He was still frowning down at it when he was surprised by hot breath on the back of his neck. He started, and quickly tried to rise again, but hands on his shoulders gently pushed him back. The hands began to slide, caressing his shoulders and threading through his hair. He knew even before the man spoke -- Vaizey.
"My dear boy, so glad you're finally awake. Things have been so terribly, stultifyingly, incomprehensibly dull without you or your pets. I thought that I might die of boredom -- these Saracens are absolutely no fun at all." The hands started a slow slide down his chest, and Guy quickly reached up to grab them.
"My Lord, please, I am... indisposed... why am I here? Where is Marian? Why have I not seen Allan?"
Vaizey quickly withdrew his hands in annoyance and moved around to perch on the edge of the bed, facing Guy. He spoke carelessly, but kept a sharp eye on Guy's face.
"Oh, your pets? Didn't I say? They've run off together -- straight to Hood, I imagine. I suppose they always did like him better..." His eyes sparkled as loss and anger filled Guy's face. "Yes, don't know what they see in that pathetic do-gooder that they don't see in you... heroism? Selflessness? A sense of humour perhaps?" A cruel smile curled his lips as Guy fisted his hands in the blankets and stared down at them. "I'm surprised you're so concerned about them... they were in such a hurry to see Hood, I'm afraid they left you here to die. Messy business, that, blood everywhere. This physician is costing an arm and leg, but I'm not worried -- it'll come out of your wages."
Amazingly, despite the prodding, Guy did not explode into rage, just continued staring down at his hands. He even managed to keep his face carefully expressionless as Vaizey reached up to stroke his hair again.
Vaizey dropped his voice to a whisper. "You should have known, Guy; you should have remembered all the other betrayals... you know you only have me... no one else to depend on... no one else at all. You know no one else could ever love a villain like you... but I love you, Guy, and I will reward you for your services. Are you ready to prove your loyalty?"
Guy remained still, impassive, and Vaizey reached his free hand down to the hilt of his dagger as the silence dragged on. As he eased it slowly out of the scabbard, Guy suddenly turned his head back up and spoke, eyes glittering with some indeterminate emotion.
"I will... I am ready."
>>>------------------------->
Vaizey lounged in his room, feet propped on the windowsill. He wiggled his toes in the sunlight and sighed in contentment. Yes... all was as it should be. Marian would hate Gisborne to her last breath, and he would make sure that came soon -- preferably in front of Hood. Though Hood was still alive, Vaizey found himself almost... pleased... with the turn of events. He'd loved watching the leper squirm while the bidders had inspected her, but this would be even better. He'd thought of gutting her in front of the outlaw ever since he'd met him; he had known the man still loved her the first time he had seen them together. He chuckled to himself. Seriously, how blind could Gisborne be? Vaizey had seen their deaths in his dreams many times since Hood had killed his Davina.
A pigeon in the crate behind him cooed, interrupting the pleasant vision of his hands tightening around Marian's neck. His fingers twitched. No! He mustn't play with the birds, there were messages to carry yet. He mustn't hurt them -- at least not until after he was sure they were no longer of use.
And Gisborne -- the clod -- would nothing convince the man that his so-called 'love' was hopeless? He was still unsure of his loyalty despite all that had passed; Gisborne was becoming much better at hiding his emotions. Well, he was still useful, regardless. Vaizey smiled to himself -- and useful in so many ways. Wiggling his toes again, he let his thoughts drift to Allan, locked up in the small room below. The boy was still so... impressionable. Well, compared to Gisborne anyway. And that bleating leper! Vaizey had never seen anyone so naive! He giggled, he would have to fix that, and soon, before he killed her.
Later, once the sun had sunk below the horizon, Vaizey drifted down towards the basement room, but not before dropping in on Guy to see that the man was once again sleeping. He smiled at the idiot's unconscious form; no heroics this time. He picked up a tray of food on the way down; they had been given nothing since he had captured them, and that would make them... pliable. Chortling with glee, he tipped an envelope of a powdered mixture into one of the wine goblets -- Allan would be more than pliable now, but none for Marian. He wanted the girl to remember.
>>>------------------------->
The next morning, Allan woke suddenly, eyes snapping open in unfocused panic. He stirred uneasily and grimaced in disgust as he felt the sheets sticking to his face in a puddle of drool. He blinked several times trying to clear his vision; his head was crowded with the leftovers of some right disturbing dreams and he felt an urgent need for some distraction. He shuddered as one particularly harrowing detail drifted to mind, and then, shockingly, felt a warm body snuggle closer. Oh shit. Or were those vague mental images actually memories?
His last clear memory was of Vaizey giving him a goblet of wine to 'relax' him. Shit. Oh shit. Oh SHIT. Marian! He looked around the room wildly, ah, there she was. He let his breath out in a silent whistle as he looked her over. She was asleep, still bound to the chair in the corner, her body sagging against the ropes. Fully clothed, thank God.
So the bastard had made her watch the whole thing. He could barely remember begging, pleading, groveling, to let it stop at that. Shit. He had pretty much promised his soul to Vaizey last night.
He shifted uncomfortably on the narrow bed, and clenched his jaw at the too familiar pain. Bad, but better than last time. He would be able to walk. Maybe. Probably. He felt a sudden twinge in his left arse cheek and gasped in horror as it triggered a memory he'd certainly rather forget. He clapped his hand over the pain and felt... No... it wasn't... it couldn't be... he slowly opened his hand to reveal... IT WAS! The diamond studded tooth glinted in the light, seemed to laugh at him before he flung it away in disgust.
Vaizey. He may have promised to do anything the man wanted, but Allan A Dale had never been known as a man of his word, and once he had Marian away safe...
On to Chpt. 61--> http://community.livejournal.com/rh_denile/28009.html