Author's Note: This is a coauthored story by myownrubicon and tawnypowl (Tumblr User Names) and it is a twist on the Robin Hood canon. So yes, we know a lot of it sounds familiar. Please read and review and tell us what you think of our characters! We'll be going through all the episodes, so if you have one you like and there is something you'd like to see, be sure to let us know!

Disclaimer: Robin Hood doesn't belong to us. If it did, Eleanor, Adelina, and Branwyn would be real.

Let the story begin!

Since Robin of Locksley had left England, Sir Guy of Gisborne had enjoyed all of the perks of being the Lord of Locksley. One of those assorted perks was a seat on the Council of Nobles. Not because he thought the Council meetings were particularly thrilling—in fact, he found them dreadfully boring—but because sitting in the midst of all of the noblemen did everything to feed his rather impressive ego. All he really wanted was power—Vaisey had been a step along the path. And now that he was practically a properly official noble, he had all of those things just at his fingertips.

When Locksley had reappeared, it had ruined all of his fun. But when Locksley had quickly become an outlaw, Guy had felt smug glee despite the fact that he no longer sat on the Council. If he couldn't sit on the Council, neither could Locksley, but at least Guy still got to stand in on council meetings. The meeting immediately after Locksley turned outlaw, the Sheriff was in a particularly bad mood and to make matters worse, one of the nobles was running late.

Just as Vaisey was getting ready to start the meeting anyway, a young man and woman appeared in the grand room. She was perhaps nineteen, certainly old enough to be a mother several times over, though it didn't appear that she was married to the young man she was accompanying. He appeared to be her younger brother, actually, a young gentleman of maybe seventeen. They were both dipped deep into their shows of respect for the Sheriff, she in a deep curtsey and her brother in a deep bow. It was the girl who spoke.

"You will have to forgive our tardiness, Your Grace," she said to the Sheriff, her voice calm and almost cold. "My father, the Earl of Perlethorpe, passes along his apologies. He could not make the Council today, as he has fallen unexpectedly ill. My brother Barric will be representing him today with the assistance of myself."

"And who are you?" The Sheriff sneered at the young woman, who was still bowed into a deep curtsey.

"Branwyn, eldest child and only daughter of the Earl of Perlethorpe." She straightened out of the curtsey then, and as her dark, nearly black eyes rose up from the ground they landed right on Gisborne's ice blue eyes. She cleared her throat and quickly looked away, but Guy couldn't quite find it in himself to do the same. She guided Barric, who didn't seem to feel as though he particularly needed or wanted his sister with him, to the seat normally reserved for their father. The meeting began with Branwyn making a conscious effort not to stare at Guy, but Guy making no effort at all to avoid staring at her.

Finally, the meeting turned in the direction of taxes. Vaisey was pushing a new tax on agriculture, one that many of the nobles seemed unsure of. The Sheriff, feeling like he wanted an easy target, turned his steely gaze on Branwyn and Barric. "And what do the young Master of Perlethorpe and his keeper think of the tax?"

Barric snorted. "Listen to this, Wynnie, he thinks we're common dolts."

Branwyn smirked. "My Lord Sheriff, you'll find that my brother and I are not quite what you were expecting. We agree that taxes are necessary, to support King Richard in the Holy Land, of course, and to help Good Prince John reserve the peace in the homeland. However, I think that dragging your brutes through the town," her eyes flashed to Gisborne as a deep blush bloomed on her cheeks, "may not be the way to go about it."

The Sheriff laughed at her. "Do you hear that? The girl thinks we can just ask the people to give us money and they will!" He continued laughing, but the only response he received was a smirk from Gisborne (and still only when Vaisey was looking.)

"I never said that," Branwyn said coolly. "Tell me, Sheriff, do you fear God?"

There was a pause in the room as the Sheriff fell completely silent. Finally, when he realized everyone was waiting for an answer, he nodded. "Well, yes, of course, but I don't see—"

"And you respect Him?" Branwyn cut in, not allowing him to finish.

"Of course," Vaisey said with a half-chuckle, "Where are you—"

"And do you love God?" She asked, holding the attention of every man in the room. When the Sheriff didn't answer her, she continued on. "Love is not usually a word we associate with God, is it? But when I look at the men who lead us in Mass every day, I see men who truly fear and respect God. They follow His commandments, live perfect sinless lives, keep his sacraments, and fear and respect drive much of those actions. However, there is also a deep, real, pure love for God living in their hearts. So, no, Sheriff, I am not saying you should simply ask nicely. I am saying that you already have their fear and respect, but if you were to couple that with love you would be the wealthiest, most powerful man in England."

There was a heavy pause as the words sunk in to the men scattered throughout the room. Branwyn looked just a little pale, as though she had just realized the danger in her words making the Sheriff seem like a fool. Barric looked wholly smug as he leaned back in his chair and waited for the Sheriff to respond. The other nobles all watched Branwyn in awe, with the exception of Marian who watched with great respect. Guy felt a strange sense of pride towards the young woman. But then there was the Sheriff.

Vaisey was not a man used to being told no. He was not a man used to being trumped in his own Council, especially not from women who think they're being incredibly clever. But, before he could have a chance to make any thickly veiled threats towards the young Lady Perlethorpe, the Earl of Boughton spoke instead.

"The girl does have a point," he noted nonchalantly, shrugging a bit. "But you would be right in your observation, my lord, that she is a naïve young girl and has never had to deal with such great decisions before."

Vaisey straightened in his chair a bit, fluffing himself along with his ego. "Yes, I would be wouldn't I?" His eyes grazed over Branwyn and Barric and he smirked. "It's little wonder you're not married, Maid Branwyn. Your father must be horribly embarrassed." Branwyn blushed and he laughed, calling the Council to a close and leaving up the stairway to the second floor, along with Gisborne who lingered just one more moment to stare at Branwyn.

The nobles all began to file out, Barric standing and laying a hand on his stunned sister's shoulder. Branwyn was frozen for a moment before the Earl of Boughton, who had been watching her sympathetically, approached her. The earl's daughter, Adelina, was a good friend of Branwyn's, and so the earl felt a special attachment to the now thoroughly embarrassed young woman.

"It could have been much worse."

She turned, startled as he spoke, terribly surprised to find him still standing in the doorway. She dipped into a curtsey. "My lord," she said, genially, trying to shake the grim feeling the Sheriff's presence had given her.

"That was a foolish thing you did, Branwyn. You are lucky a minor embarrassment in front of the Council was your punishment. It could have been worse," he repeated, gesturing for her to join him. They walked a few paces in silence, finally reaching the front of the castle. Barric was mounting his horse, another beautiful chestnut colored horse next to it. The Earl of Boughton laughed. "Your best dress, and you didn't take a carriage?"

Branwyn looked up at him with a smile. "Of course not. It's far too nice a day to lock myself inside a great rolling box."

The earl laughed. "You have never changed, Branwyn. My daughter gives her greetings."

"Tell Adelina I say hello. I have plans to visit her at Boughton when my father recovers his health."

"Of course. And tell your father we send our best wishes and prayers for his health. May God have mercy on him and your family."

"Thank you, my lord. God willing he shall see you next week."

The earl smiled as he headed towards the stable where his carriage was waiting. "I look forward to it."

Branwyn began towards her horse, but was stopped by a great lurking shadow. Tracing it upwards with her thickly lashed dark eyes she was surprised to find Guy of Gisborne standing in front of her. She bobbed in a small curtsey—he was a man, but not her equal—and kept her face decidedly calm, cursing the small blush that uncontrollably stained her cheeks. "Sir Guy, what a surprise."

"Lady Branwyn," he said dipping into a polite bow, "I do not believe we have been previously introduced."

Branwyn smiled sheepishly. "My father only reluctantly agreed to let me come. He does not think that a Council of Nobles is a proper place for an unmarried woman."

"Your father is wise." He hesitated for a brief moment, searching for the right words. "I am sorry for the Sheriff's mockery. I am sure that there is a reason behind your…state."

Branwyn blinked in confusion. "My state?"

"You are…unmarried."

"Ah. Yes. Well," Branwyn smiled gently. "My father has found no man willing to tolerate such a spirited young woman as myself."

"I think spirit and bravery are qualities which deserve to be exalted." She looked away from him with a blush and he cleared his throat. "I have recently come into permanent residence at Locksley Manor. I would very much like it if you were to visit me there, at some point, now that it is my own."

She smiled at his almost sheepish invitation, holding a laugh in her throat at the ludicrousness of the situation she stood in. "I would very much like that as well. Tomorrow morning, then?"

He smiled. "I look forward to it," he said, holding out his hand.

She gave her hand to him slowly, and as he kissed it she blushed furiously and grinned like a madwoman. "As do I."

The next morning, however, Guy had forgotten about the invitation temporarily. The Sheriff had woken him early, wanting Robin found and found quickly. The rude awakening had put Guy in a less than tolerant mood and the ride to Locksley with the temperamental Sheriff had spoiled his mood even further. When the peasants all refused to talk, though Guy and the Sheriff both knew full well that they knew where Robin and his friends had gotten off to, Guy had snapped. Now, he and the Sheriff stood in the full sunlight waiting for hours to pass. Guy's collection of peasant tongues was growing, but his knowledge of Locksley's whereabouts and his patience were both thin and rapidly thinning. Wanting a brief reprise from the sun, he stalked off to the manor—his manor—with the intention of getting wine for himself and the Sheriff. He found there a young woman riding a chestnut horse, preparing to dismount. She was wearing an emerald green dress, which brought out the red and gold that the sunlight lit in her dark hair, which was braided and piled neatly on the back of her head. But even from the back of her head, Guy recognized her.

"Lady Branwyn," he said, rushing to help her dismount.

"Sir Guy," she greeted with a smile. "I hope you had not forgotten my visit."

Guy smiled, praying he didn't look caught off his guard. "Of course not. I would need to be a fool to forget the visit of such a beautiful young woman."

Branwyn laughed as he helped her to the ground. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Sir Guy. Use it wisely."

He held out his arm with a smile. "I intend to."

He led her into the manor, ordering two goblets of wine brought for himself and Branwyn and pulling out a chair for her to sit. She gave him a knowing smile and instead of sitting, wandered around the first floor of Locksley Manor, gazing admirably upon the craftsmanship of Locksley. "You have good carpenters in this village," she remarked, nodding in approval of the building. "This is a sturdy manor, well built, thought through. My compliments."

"Thank you," Guy said, watching her in amusement. "I am…quite proud of it."

Branwyn took a sip of her wine, a smirk playing on her lips. She turned to look out one of the windows and found, to her surprise, a pair of yellow-and-black clad guards was manhandling a peasant man out of his tongue. "What great secrets are the peasants keeping?"

Guy joined her in front of the window, not entirely sure if it was proper decorum to watch guards cut a peasant's tongue out while casually observing with a lady. He watched her carefully as the guards finished their gruesome chore, but he didn't see her so much as pale or wince as they released the pathetic, bloody man. "Information about the whereabouts of Robin of Locksley." She hummed and nodded, slowly taking a drink of her wine. He watched her carefully, not sure whether she was in shock or somehow was totally unaffected by the sight in front of her. His experience with women was limited, but he was relatively sure that she was supposed to be bothered.

After a brief pause and a few more moments watching the Sheriff and the guards taunt and question the peasants in the square, Branwyn smiled at Guy apologetically. "I seem to have come at an inconvenient time."

"No!" Guy said quickly, pausing when he realized how accidentally urgent the word had sounded. "No, not at all. Please, Lady Branwyn, there is so much I want to know about you."

She smiled back at him. "I have a letter from my father to carry to Knighton Hall. I will wait there for you. When you find Robin later today—and I have full confidence in your ability to get them talking, Sir Guy—you can come find me there. I have several days to spend in Nottingham Town, should I want them." She smiled as she handed her wine goblet to Guy, her eyes never leaving his. "And I do want them."

She left then, pulling on her riding gloves and pulling herself up sidesaddle onto her horse. As she rode off, she flashed him a smile over her shoulder. Guy got an almost warm feeling as he poured another glass for the Sheriff and went back out to face the peasants. It was another hour until Robin showed up, and it was with a sense of pride he had never felt quite before that Guy pulled his prisoner towards Knighton. There, he found Sir Edward looking rather distraught to see Robin being towed by Sir Guy. Branwyn, however, was another story.

"Oh, Sir Guy, you brought me a present!" She walked over to where Robin stood and exchanged grins with Guy, who hadn't stopped smiling since he had pulled up to see her again. She held out a hand and grabbed Robin's chin, turning his head one way and the other. "I'm a little disappointed in you, Robin of Locksley. I remember how noble you used to be; a just, fair lord to live under. And here you are, a homeless nothing who is good for nothing more than serving as an elaborate decoration for some gibbet outside of Nottingham. It's a bit of a pity, really." She looked back up at Guy, giving him a smile that matched the grimness of his own. "But your replacement is capable of running things better than you ever could. More than an even trade, I'd say." She rounded the horse, climbing up onto her horse and draping her legs gracefully to one side. Gripping the reins tightly in her gloved hands she nodded her head at Sir Edward respectfully. "I shall return for the reply to my father's letter in several days time. Until then, Sir Edward."

"I shall have one ready, Lady Branwyn. Until then."

Branwyn rode off next to Guy. They spent the entire ride from Knighton to Nottingham deep in conversation, and as Robin was pulled behind he twisted his face in disgust. Still, if Guy's new found affections for Branwyn of Perlethorpe took them off of Marian, Robin could accept it. He hadn't expected Branwyn to be so cruel hearted—she was only a year or two younger than Marian and growing up Branwyn had spent many hours in the company of Marian and Robin. Robin remembered her as an even tempered, if somewhat detached, young woman. She had always been a bit ambitious, chattering on about how her father was striving to find a suitable match for her. Her father was a bit of a stern man, the kind who ran his lands to the highest caliber and didn't entirely care who he ran over in the process. Her mother had died after the birth of her youngest brother, Richard, leaving Earl Perlethorpe with three children to raise aged six or under. Branwyn had become the lady of the household, and Robin supposed in all honesty he shouldn't be surprised that Branwyn had a bit of a stone heart. With the things she must have seen as she watched her father carry out his strict justice she would have learned to be accepting of things Robin himself would never settle for.

By the time they reached Nottingham Castle, Guy and Branwyn were deep in their own personal betrothal negotiations. It seemed to Robin that they were made for each other. Branwyn, with her ambition and lack of fear to take any steps necessary to get herself to the top; and Guy, with his lust for power that marrying a noblewoman would provide and his enjoyment of all things grim. And as Robin was dragged off to the dungeons, he wondered what two cold-hearted people could possibly do on a courtship outing. Pick flowers and have a picnic as normal courting couples did? Or watch a hanging and collect taxes? Whatever they did, it was probably highly unusual.

In fact, Guy and Branwyn spent to rest of the day together in Locksley. After dropping Robin off in the dungeons of Nottingham, Guy took Branwyn back to his home and they spent the afternoon in conversation. When night fell, Guy rode back to Nottingham but let Branwyn have use of Locksley Manor. When he told her that, she laughed and told him that she wasn't Lady of the Manor yet and would feel improper staying alone in a house belonging to a man she had only just met. Which is when Guy had smiled and brushed a curl back from Branwyn's face, so close to her he could feel her breath on his neck, and without any hesitation announced his plans to make Branwyn the Lady of the Manor. The next morning, after spending a night in an inn near Locksley, Branwyn rode back to Perlethorpe with a letter from Sir Guy to her father asking his permission to make Branwyn the new Lady Gisborne along with a letter from Sir Edward of Knighton detailing the latter's loyalty to King Richard and refusal to join any scheme denouncing his throne. One of the letters would please her father greatly. The other would not.

The next few days passed in a whirlwind. Her father, from his deathbed, had written a letter to Sir Guy giving his wholehearted permission for Branwyn's marriage. Just after he signed it, Lord Arthur Perlethorpe passed away. The next day he was buried, news was spread throughout Nottingham that Branwyn was to marry Guy, the newly-dubbed Robin Hood escaped capture (again), and Barric became the Earl of Perlethorpe. Two days after her father's death, Branwyn rode to Nottingham Town from Perlethorpe for a more long-term arrangement. Accompanying her were her two dearest friends from childhood, two daughters of neighboring Lords. Eleanor, the daughter of the Earl of Ollerton, and Adelina, the daughter of the Earl of Boughton, were to serve Branwyn in the days leading up to her wedding.

On their ride from Perlethorpe Manor to Nottingham, the main road they rode took them through Sherwood Forest. Branwyn couldn't hide a grim smile when a cluster of men appeared in front of her horse. "This is an ambush!"

"Robin of Locksley," she cooed happily, halting her horse with a bounce. Her long burnt orange dress settled along with her curls, which she was wearing to one side held in place with a beautifully bejeweled hair stick. "I didn't know you still had any friends."

"I have a few," he quipped, walking up to her horse and taking hold of the reins. "Look at you, Branwyn. About to be Lady Gisborne and riding in the company of two noblewomen."

"You remember Adelina of Boughton and Eleanor of Ollerton don't you, Robin?"

Adelina, the youngest of the three women and the fairest in complexion with blue eyes, fair red hair, and a smattering of freckles covering her entire body, smiled at Robin. "It's been too long, Robin."

Eleanor, the quietest of the three, smiled as well. "Look at you now, Lord Locksley. I never thought we'd be in this position all those years ago."

"Yes, look at you now," Branwyn added sarcastically. "Out of land, out of love, and out of a title if I'm not mistaken. What is it they're calling you now?" Her face spread into a dark smile. "Oh yes. Robin Hood. I can tell you this much: if I have anything to do with it, when my husband gets his hands on you, a hood will be a privilege you won't have earned. Now then, you seem to have come to ambush us and, presumably, rob us. Unfortunately for you, we don't have anything worth robbing."

Robin laughed. "Come now, Branwyn. No self-respecting nobleman, even one as young as your brother, would send a sister off without a dowry."

"But my brother knew I'd be passing your way, so my dowry will be collected by my husband when we travel to Perlethorpe for the holiday. So it would seem you have been thwarted, Robin. I have nothing."

Eleanor looked over at Branwyn with a quieting glance which Robin noticed and smiled at Branwyn, who glared back at him but said nothing. "So you say you have no money," Robin said with a smile. "Then you won't mind us searching your things."

"Be my guest," Branwyn sneered, rolling her eyes as Robin's band of men circled her horse and the horses of Adelina and Eleanor. After a few moments of their circling, Branwyn huffed a sigh. "I told you we have nothing of value. If you'll excuse us, I have an appointment in Nottingham."

"Of course, we don't mean to delay you. I'll just take this," Robin reached up and removed the hair stick from Branwyn's long, nearly black curls and took a step back, grinning like a madman. "And you'll be off."

"No," Branwyn said. "Give me that back."

Robin shook his head, taking a sharp breath in with mock sympathy. "See, I can't do that Branwyn. But think of it this way: your donation will be helping the poor of Nottingham." He let go of the reins and bowed, along with the rest of his men, as Branwyn and her company set off for Nottingham. He failed to notice the hard set of Branwyn's jaw or the sharpness in her eyes.

When the women were clear of the outlaws, Branwyn stopped her horse and dismounted by the river. Eleanor and Adelina stopped too, more than a little curious as to what Branwyn could possibly be doing. They watched as Branwyn shook her curls out, mixing in a few leaves and a bit of mud. She streaked mud on her face, hands, dress, and used a knife she kept hidden in her saddle to make tears in the hem of her dress. She then rubbed her eyes until tears mixed with the mud on her face. Finally, she remounted her horse and looked back at Eleanor and Adelina. "Go on then," she prompted.

Adelina slowly got off her horse, looking between Eleanor and Branwyn who were locked in a tight gaze, which Adelina recognized as a form of warfare. While they remained locked in silent, bloodless combat Adelina mimicked Branwyn's actions to a lesser extent: she didn't have the luxury of new dresses waiting for her in just a few days. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime of tension, Eleanor climbed off of her horse, put two streaks of mud on her cheeks in the most defiant manner Adelina thought possible, and remounted. The three rode to Nottingham in silence, with Adelina trailing in the back watching her two oldest and dearest friends ride ahead of her. As they rode, she thought of the rather unusual nature of Eleanor and Branwyn's relationship. They were distant cousins—their mothers shared an aunt or some equally strange relation to that—and so they had literally grown up together. They bristled against each other almost constantly, but Adelina could imagine no Eleanor without Branwyn, and no Branwyn without Eleanor.

When they reached Nottingham Castle, there was a crowd out to greet the future Lady Gisborne. Adelina noted with a smirk that most of them seemed to be twittering on in curiosity about what kind of woman would marry Sir Guy of Gisborne willingly. Adelina also noted that most of the townspeople fell silent when the muddy, tattered procession passed them. The gates to the inner castle were open, and waiting on the steps was Guy. He had been silent before, but when he caught sight of Branwyn his entire demeanor changed.

Eleanor and Adelina knew who Guy was, simply because they lived in Nottinghamshire. However, they had never actually met the man who would be marrying their dearest friend. They had both heard that he could be a dangerous man, but they could see it in his face when he helped Branwyn dismount and slowly checked her over for injury. Both girls were impressed with Branwyn's performance as she sobbed on about the evils of Robin Hood, who had stolen the hair stick that was, apparently, the last thing Branwyn owned of her mother's.

Guy led her inside, instructing two guards to tend to Eleanor and Adelina. Adelina watched in awe as Branwyn nestled herself under Guy's arm and leaned her head on his shoulder. Passing her horse off to one of the guards, she began following Eleanor and a servant girl into the castle, in a different direction than Branwyn and Guy.

"Was that really her mother's?" Adelina asked, catching up to Eleanor who had been following the servant girl with long, purposeful strides.

"Yes," Eleanor said evenly, using her hand to wipe the mud off her face. "It really was."

Adelina remained silent for the rest of the walk to the rooms they had, adjacent to each other in a dimly lit stone hallway.