Title: Keys

Summary: Holding the keys of Nottingham, Guy reflects on the price he had to pay for them.

A/N: these are two one-shots, the second set immediately after the first that explore Guy's feelings when, after having 'dealt' with Isabella and Hood, he is finally made Sheriff of Nottingham. There is therefore no real link between the two chapters, apart from their subject.

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Staring own at the precious objects the would-be monarch had negligently put in his hands, Guy couldn't help wondering if they were worth it. These were the symbol of his rise, the first stone that would settle his new-found power. Three years ago, he would never have asked for more, and would never have questioned the price asked to obtain such valuable pieces of bronze.

But this was three years – ages – ago. So many things had happened since to make him now look down to this trophy with ill-concealed bitterness.

Marian. First and foremost. She had believed in him, somehow, when no one would have dared believe he even had a soul. And by doing so, she had awakened a decade of suppressed feelings, emotions he barely thought he could even sense. She had taught him to expect higher, to aim at more than the senseless pursuit of power. She had made him remember the difference honour made in any achievement. She had made him a better man. And that man did not relish power the way the old one used to.

Then, there was Vaisey. His master, his mentor, his tormentor, his father of sorts. Who now laid dead by his son's hand. Et tu Brute?

Isabella. His own sister. His baby sister. He still didn't quite believe he had just killed her, after all the trouble he had gone through too make sure she was safe and well. He felt nauseated. Little Iz had betrayed him. Little Iz was dead. He had killed her. Sold her life once again for pieces of bronze.

Now he was alone, utterly and completely alone. One by one, he had destroyed every single person that could have cared about him. Even Hood was dead.

All of this for a set of keys. Blood added to more blood, staining his hands and his soul of thin red lines, contaminating him. All for this. Was it worth it? Were those heavy warrants of his authority worth the blood of his sister? Of his father-figure? Of the love of his life? Were they worth betraying the last untainted virtues he had: his loyalty to his family, to Vaisey, his love for Marian? Weighting the heavy token of his glorious future, Guy wasn't sure of this anymore.