Disclaimer: I don't own any of RH BBC characters.


Chapter 1 (Revised)

The prideful lady galloped on the back of her black stallion with absolute gracefulness. She would catch the eyes of men and women alike, for her beauty was beyond compare. She had a long and silky raven hair that was always tied up in a ponytail; an unblemished fair skin, which held a pair of dreamy, blue eyes that were framed with long and dark lashes; a tiny, chiseled nose and thin, rosy lips. She was clad in black leather that perfectly complimented her curves, and always kept a sword around her tiny waist.

Her beauty was undeniable, but her attitude was that of a grumpy, old soldier. She had the worst temper of all; she would kill without the tiniest bit of hesitation and would definitely cut anyone who dared to touch her or attempted a move on her. Even the Sheriff himself wasn't safe around her; he was once drunk and tempted to touch her bottom, but received a nasty blow to the chest that bruised into a sick combination of green and purple. He would have hung her for it, if she wasn't too valuable to him at the moment, that, and the fact that every man in his miserable, so-called army was either scared of her bad temper or spellbound by her beauty.

Her name was Guyline of Gisborne, the Sheriff's right hand, and the dark fallen angle as the peasants liked to call her; a beautiful, merciless angle that would kill anyone who defied her with a single swing of her sword.

Finally reaching the gates of Nottingham's Castle, Guyline dismounted her stallion and headed straight to the castle's dungeons. Last night she had captured one of the outlaws whilst cheating some inn customers for a few petty shillings, and now she had planned to torture him for information on Hood. Moreover, she needed to vent out the anger and the disappointment that were deeply suppressed in her, and her prisoner seemed like the perfect outlet.

Once Guyline had reached the dungeons, she motioned for the jailer to show her the way. The latter obliged by taking her to the furthest cell, where a young, brown-haired man was chained to the wall. The jailer opened the cell's door, and then handed her the keys cautiously; he had seen her torture many prisoners, and it never ceased to send a shiver down his spine.

"You can leave now." Guyline ordered with a dismissive hand, while eyeing her prisoner.

"Yes, milady." The jailer replied with a slight bow before scurrying away.

The chained guy raised his head as soon as he noticed his visitor and said sarcastically, "I'm not being funny, but I'm trying to get some sleep in here."

"Always trying to be the funny guy, eh, Allan?" Guyline scoffed, taking short-paced steps towards her prisoner with arms crossed against her leather-clad chest.

"I will take that as a compliment." Allan grinned and stared at the lady in front of him with mocking, blue eyes. His left eye was showing early signs of bruising, and his chin was smudged with traces of blood, both of which were compliments of Guyline's underlings.

"Take it as you like, for you are the one in chains." Guyline retorted ironically, as she got closer to the chained guy, but stopped a foot away.

"I won't mind playing it rough with a fine lady like you." Allan countered with a taunting smirk.

He was about to add a wink, when Guyline swiftly brought a dagger to his throat, making a small cut that started to bleed. The outlaw swallowed hard, as he felt warm blood trickling down his throat.

"Watch your tongue fool!" Guyline hissed. If she didn't need to aquire information regarding Hood's gang, she would have gone all the way.

"Whoa! Calm down, I mean no harm!" Allan exclaimed nervously, "I won't let out another word without your permission, promise."

"Good." The lady replied with a smirk, "Then tell me about Hood."

"Err… a fine, dark blond?" Allan answered with a nervous smile. He knew better than to anger the ill-tempered lady, yet he found himself unable to withhold his taunting nature. He kicked himself mentally since he knew what was coming next wouldn't be pretty.

"And here I thought you were a smart one Allan A' Dale." Guyline remarked almost calmly, which made Allan flinch. He got even more nervous than he already was, when she turned around to fetch something that was hanging near the cell door and barely visible.

"Let us see how long you can keep up with that act of yours, shall we?" Guyline added with a twisted smirk as she turned on her heels to face him, and lashed a whip, making a loud slashing sound that echoed throughout the dungeon's hallways.

It took Allan five excruciating lashes, to his already abused body, to betray his gang. As soon as the fifth lash had made contact with his bleeding back, adding a new gash to the previous ones, he took in a heavy gasp and shouted, "Fine! Stop and I'll tell you whatever you want!"

"Now that's what a smart one sounds like." Guyline mocked with an obvious hint of victory in her voice, "You are mine now."

She walked to the panting man, lifted his chin and said with a smirk "From now on you will be working for me. You will be my little spy in Hood's camp of outlaws and deliver me all their plans, are we clear? And of course you will be rewarded handsomely, and ultimately with a noble title once the King is dead."

"Aye." Allan yielded through the pain. He didn't want to be tortured anymore, his whole back was already drenching with blood, and her offer didn't sound that bad either.

Guyline nodded in approval and unchained her spy, who instantly fell on the ground unable to balance himself from the searing pain in his back.

"I'm not being funny, but…" Allan winced as he tried to stand up, "Your wedding's unfortunate turn seem to hit you hard, aye? I could feel it in every whip."

At the mention of her wedding, Guyline promptly grab Allan from his collar and snapped, "Don't you ever dare speak a word of it again!" She then pulled Allan's hair, yanking his head backwards and forcing his eyes to meet her blue ones, before kicking him right into his abdomen, and storming out of the cell.

Allan clenched his abdomen and coughed in pain, while trying to catch some air that seemed to be escaping him. He didn't hate her for the kick since it was obviously his fault. However, he couldn't dismiss the pain and sorrow he had seen in her eyes. She might have tried to conceal it with rage, but if there was anything that Allan was great at, it was reading people and what he had seen was as clear as day. He felt sorry for her and hated his mouth for always beating his brain, especially this time.

"You really hit the right nerve, didn't you? Stupid Allan A' Dale." Allan scolded himself in a weak voice, before getting intercepted by the jailer's presence.

"Come on now." The jailer sneered, "Scamper away before she changes her mind."

"Aye…" Allan replied and left as fast as his aching body could go.


I hope it wasn't that weird, but I always thought how Guy being a woman would have altered the story. More surprises next chapter! Hope you liked it and please don't forget to leave a review!