~1~

Marian would have preferred to have her neck rubbed raw by a rope, rather than endure the chill of the stone block as it seeped into her cheek. And if she were to be hanged, she would be wearing a hood; and would thus be prevented from seeing the anguish on her father's face as he was forced to witness her execution, before being brought forward for his own.

She felt as though she should be experiencing a sense of dread or panic, or readying her soul for its judgment. She should be crying, or perhaps, laughing hysterically. However, she was numb. None of it seemed real: not the bindings on her wrists; not the rough planks scraping her knees through her skirts; not the crowd staring in silent horror. The lack of excited chatter which usually scored the sheriff's entertainments might have been the strangest aspect of the entire situation. While it bespoke the esteem in which Marian was held by rich and poor alike, she was hardly about to be comforted by the knowledge. The hush merely served to reinforce the dreamlike quality of the situation, as well as allowing the bootsteps of the headsman to echo resoundingly off every angle of the walls surrounding the courtyard as he approached her.

Vaizey had already pronounced her sentence and bounced expectantly beside Edward, his new replacement tooth catching what little light there was in this overcast dawn when he grinned. He leaned forward, glancing at his predecessor's face to ensure that the older man was watching, before turning a keen gaze back on Marian. Their eyes locked, and she read triumph in his. Despite what everyone around them said, despite his fallibility in so many situations, he had never trusted her. The sheriff had always known that she was more than anyone believed her to be, and for that, she held for him the tiniest smidgen of respect. She knew that he was vile, rotten, and had no redeeming qualities whatsoever, but at least he had recognized in her the danger that she posed. No one else was remotely aware of it.

No one except Robin, that was.

No. Her mind rejected any thought of him yet. She could handle nearly everything this situation encompassed... but not that. Instead, she looked at Guy, standing ramrod straight beside Vaizey, his face impassive. Expecting him to be glaring at her, or possibly giving her a wounded stare, she was surprised to find that his line of sight passed as far above her as it could without being obvious. Even in the pale light, she was able to discern a mark on his cheek from her discarded wedding ring. A couple of days ago, she might have felt badly about that; but, considering he had attempted to marry her through coercion and deceit, and now made no move to preserve her life, any sympathy she might have had for him was decidedly absent.

The headsman reached his place behind her and stopped. "Do you forgive me for what I must do?" he asked quietly. Marian had heard the words from him or his colleagues when she was in attendance at the punishments of others, but she had never heard them sound so remorseful.

"I forgive you," she replied calmly. "But I ask that you consider another line of work after today."

At the demand of several of the nobles whom he had not killed during his stunt with the fake King Richard, Vaizey had called for a sword to be used in place of the axe. Marian knew she should be grateful, but mainly she was contemptuous of the men who either sided with the sheriff the entire time, or who now lost their nerve to counter him, in order to try to help her. They had intended to play the long game, but the time for that was past; perhaps, Robin had been right all along, and it was the wrong decision to begin with. Perhaps, they should all have taken to the forest ages ago.

The blade was laid gently across her neck, lining up the blow, and she closed her eyes. She could not watch her father's face when it happened, she would not watch Vaizey's, and she did not want to watch Guy's. Finally, she allowed herself to think of Robin.

It was amazing, this emotional journey she had been on; like riding on a storm. From feeling cornered and alone; to desperately wracking her brain for a plan to obtain the future she wanted; then, to suppressing her wishes in order to come to terms with her possible future as Lady Gisborne; to nearly dying; and then, essentially ripping out her own heart when she made Robin go. But, it all seemed as though it would work out, that she might finally have found a way to be with the man she loved, the one who understood and accepted her for herself, unlike anyone else around her.

And, just as she was daring to be happy, it was all coming to an end. She had found no opportunity to rescue herself or her father, and that was while keeping a sharp eye out. There had been no time to alert Robin, especially not without knowing where the gang was camped.

She was about to die. In that case, she would go with dignity; no sobbing or pleading. That had never been her style, and she was not about to finish out her life in such an uncharacteristic way. In fact, she wanted to go out smiling.

So, Marian thought of that kiss- the one that meant so much more than any other kiss, even more than their very first one all those years ago. They had been little more than children then, nearly grown but still so far from being complete, and that had merely been a beginning. Yesterday's kiss was likewise a beginning, but it was also an affirmation. This time, it was not two, bright-eyed young people experimenting with a possibility; it was two, more worldly young adults declaring themselves and making a decision to try for what they knew they wanted.

That was all beside the fact that it had been perfect. Not that she would ever have told him so, but Robin had always been an incredible kisser, and Marian took some measure of pride in her own skill, as well. That, combined with the sentiment behind it, could result in nothing less than perfection. Also, being that this was her last thought, she may as well allow it to be fanciful: there was something thrilling about the fact that he had leaned sideways off of his horse to reach her. She tried not to let herself dwell on it before, but it was just so dashing, the sort of thing a girl might daydream about when she was being silly, but not something she expected to ever actually happen...

...it had been so very Robin.

She was going to die with a smile on her face, and her lips did indeed curve as she recalled the feel of his mouth and the way he tasted, the sensation of his hand cupping her cheek, the way his whiskers rubbed her nose and chin (which would have irritated her on any other man, but she did not mind it then), how the scent of horse managed to overcome his rather woodsy aroma of late, and that gorgeous smile as he straightened away from her. It had been impossible not to smile back as she watched him ride off, satisfaction radiating off of her like sunlight. He had come for her, after all, when she thought he had given up, and he would help save her father and anyone else he could. And, even though she had tried to fight it, she loved him.

She was smiling, but a tear slipped down her cheek as the sword was raised.

The arrows hit precisely where they were intended: one severed the rope binding Marian's wrists, at the same moment that the second caught the top of the headsman's hood, yanking it over his face without injuring him. It happened as the sword was at its zenith, just far enough back that when its wielder dropped it in surprise, the weapon clattered harmlessly to the ground behind him.

Despite the fact that she had been unprepared, Marian wasted no time in reacting. She instantly pulled away from the block, kicking out to knock back the headsman as he fixed his hood. The heavy skirts of her wedding-cum-execution gown made that difficult; it was fortunate that he was already off-balance, or she might not have succeeded. A pair of castle guards rushed forward, but a cluster of arrows burrowing into the wooden platform in front of their feet brought them to a quick halt.

Marian glanced in the direction from which the missiles originated, beaming when Robin swept her a theatrical bow. "Sorry to be running late!" he called down. "The messenger must have misplaced our invitation!" With that, he grabbed onto a rope that was tied off to the crenellation in the wall beside him, and descended toward the courtyard.

"Hood!" Vaizey snarled from the castle steps. The syllable had not even left his mouth before Guy was shoving his way through the gathered peasants, trying to get to where Robin was about to set foot. Glaring at the myriad guards standing near him, the sheriff bellowed, "Get him!"

As the armored men rushed to follow orders, Marian jumped down, snagging the headsman's fallen sword. The guards who had been holding her father had dashed off to deal with Robin and the rest of the gang, who were able to get halfway through the crowd before they were confronted; and Marian was going to get Edward out while everyone was distracted. She paused momentarily to slice the front of her skirts with the sword, ripping it above the cut to the height she needed. It was indecent when the tear opened, but it would barely be noticeable when she was standing still, and she was wearing thick leggings underneath; and, that was beside the fact that she did not stand a chance otherwise. With that accomplished, she hurried forward.

Unfortunately, Vaizey was not as easily distracted as those he employed, even when under attack by outlaws, and he realized what she had in mind. She was still several feet away when he produced a dagger and held it under Edward's chin. "Uh-uh, missy," he chided. "That's not how this is going to end."

As she hesitated, a few castle guards came up around her; she was not sure how many were behind her, but she could see three out of her peripheral vision. "Marian, go!" her father urged.

The current sheriff turned an exaggerated look of surprise on him. "'Go?' Yes, Marian; by all means, go." As he spoke, he drew the blade lightly along the older man's throat, leaving a thin, red line behind it.

Edward cringed, but maintained eye contact with his daughter. "Do not worry about me. Save yourself."

"Oh, how noble," Vaizey drawled, bringing his free hand around Edward's neck to test the wound he had just made, appearing uninterested as he rubbed the blood he found between his thumb and forefinger.

Marian remained frozen, staring at her father in dismay as the men crept closer to her. She was trying desperately to figure out a plan of action, but coming up blank. She could hurl her sword at Vaizey, and while he would probably duck, Edward would have a chance to run- but, she would then be caught. Or, she could take out the guards, and escape- but, not until she would see her father cut open in front of her.

Suddenly, an arrow flew beside her head, close enough that her hair moved in its wake, and scoring Vaizey's dagger arm before clattering into the stone steps beyond him. Reflexively, the sheriff pulled back, and the reprieve for her father gave Marian the impetus to deal with her own attackers. Swinging her sword up as she turned, she knocked the guard behind her in the side of the helmet hard enough to fell him. The men on either side of her swooped in, and she ducked and rolled out of their way, kicking one in the lower back as she rose, which knocked him into the guard opposite him. They both went down, and she jumped nimbly over them to deal with their employer.

He and his predecessor were in a losing standoff. Edward's hands were still bound, and while he had gotten loose from Vaizey's grip, he had no means to fight or escape. Vaizey stood between him and the courtyard, dagger out, and a wicked gleam in his cold eyes.

Rushing over, Marian held her sword at the ready as she took a place beside Edward, trying to move in front of him. "Father, get back," she muttered, not taking her gaze from their opponent. If Vaizey attacked, Edward would be in the way, and could either get hurt, or hinder her movements.

"I told you to go," he replied irritably, moving back just barely enough.

She let out a small laugh. "Fortunately for you, I do not take orders well." She could tell that his answering laugh was despite himself, but it made her smile widen.

Vaizey was less impressed, and she could tell that he was poising to move. "My guards might hesitate to take you down because you are a woman, but I have no such qualms."

"I'm well aware of it," she replied tightly, having to dodge his attack before she finished speaking. She brought her sword down, aiming for his arm, but had to twist in such a way to avoid getting cut, that the flat side of the blade met him, instead of the edge. It fended him off, but only momentarily. Instead of pulling back to regroup as she expected him to do, he flipped the knife around in his hand and brought his arm back and up behind her, aiming near her kidney. She realized what he was doing just in time, the small blade fraying the brocade of her dress, but not damaging her person. Still, dodging it knocked her off-balance, and she staggered a couple of steps before righting herself in front of her father. Vaizey still stood between the two of them and freedom, and he was obviously determined not to let them get any closer to it.

Familiar, raised voices and the clang of steel nearby told her that Robin and Guy were locked in a fight of their own which had moved around the courtyard, but she could not listen to them, could not look at them. Vaizey had often put her in mind of a rodent, perhaps a rabid badger; now, however, he was a snake, coiled and ready to strike, and all of her attention was directed toward him.

"The block would've been quicker, but good job; this is much more fun." He grinned, and Marian wished there were something maniacal in his gaze. The evenness with which he regarded her was so very unsettling. She had seen some people who were capable of maintaining that sort of mask for effect; but, she was certain that it was no mask, not as far as he was concerned.

"So glad I could accommodate you," she replied dryly.

He chuckled, the sound ominous as ever. Vaguely, she wondered if he had ever not radiated evil, if there had been a time when he was almost human. It was difficult, if not impossible, to imagine. "Apparently, there is a first time for everything... such as dying!" he added, lunging forward.

The movement was more erratic than she expected, but she still managed to parry it. "Already had a go at that, thanks," she muttered as she pushed him away.

As he straightened, something on the dagger caught her eye. She was stunned to see that it was now covered in blood, the stuff running up to pool against Vaizey's hand where he gripped it. He had not gotten her, she was sure of it-

Whirling in horror, she cried, "Father!"

Edward clutched his side, a bright stain already spreading down his tunic, his eyes wide in shock as he staggered. Without thinking, Marian dropped her sword and moved to catch him. His weight pulled on her own wound, something she had been able to ignore until now, and she gasped at the sharp pain as she lowered him carefully down on the cobblestones. "It's all right," he said, his voice tight.

"Hmm. That's very sweet, isn't it?" Vaizey said from behind them. "It would be a shame to bring it to an end."

Marian glanced over her shoulder and saw him smirking as he swung the dagger about, the handle loosely gripped between his fingertips. He knew how the fight was going to end, and was not in the least bit concerned about it. Fury warred with agony in her heart, and she knew that this confrontation was not leaning in her favor. But, nor could she allow him to go unpunished for what he had just done.

As she grabbed the sword and rose, Vaizey's gaze drifted to her stomach, where a small, crimson blotch was appearing on her dress, and his brows lifted an iota. She could tell that he was thinking about it, but that he had not yet placed the injury. Bracing herself for a possible opening to attack, she nearly laughed when she saw enlightenment suddenly dawn on his face.

"Oh, you cannot be serious," he moaned.

She gave him a toothy grin as she held the sword in front of herself. "Surprised?"

His jaw jutted forward as he stared at her in a new light. "Not really." Suddenly, he whipped the dagger at her. Startled by the action, Marian might have stood there until the thing embedded itself deeply into her chest, except that something collided with her, knocking her safely out of the way as a grunt sounded from behind where she had just stood.

It was not something who knocked her to safety, it was someone. "Sorry," Djaq apologized as she rolled to the side and stood. Offering Marian a hand up, she nodded to the bloodstain and said, "I hope I did not hurt you more."

"I'm fine," Marian said absently, looking over her shoulder. A guard was clutching his sword arm, the hilt of the dagger protruding from just above his elbow. Groaning as he went, the man ran toward the castle entrance. Meanwhile, Little John had moved in and had Vaizey well under control, his staff across the sheriff's throat by the time Marian turned back. Djaq moved quickly toward Edward, and after making sure they were in no more immediate danger, Marian joined her. Djaq had already ripped the damaged fabric around his wound, and was leaning down to examine it closely. "Well?" Marian asked tersely.

"I do not think it is serious, but we need to get him out of here," Djaq muttered.

"We need to get all of us out of here," Marian murmured, taking in the chaos around them. While only a couple small pockets of fighting remained, there were still several guards trying to regain control of the panicked crowd, and the entire situation was far too volatile. And, it was far too likely to turn against them at any moment. The other woman gave an unamused snort of agreement.

A hand on Marian's shoulder made her jump, and she cursed herself for being unaware when Robin said, "What happened?"

"The sheriff stabbed him," she replied.

"Apparently, not well enough," the perpetrator in question muttered. The remark ended on an "urk" sort of sound, when John pulled back on the quarterstaff.

Peering behind Robin, Marian asked, "Where's Guy?"

He frowned at the question. "Why do you care?"

She frowned back. "That's not an answer." The truth was that she did not care in the way he implied, especially after the events of the last day; still, if he was dead or wounded, she wanted to know. On top of that, they hardly had the time for petty jealousies, and she was not about to humor Robin's.

Despite the staff pressing against his windpipe, Vaizey chuckled. "Trouble in Paradise?"

Robin shot him a dirty look and then turned back to Marian, clearly displeased. "He's unconscious, but he'll live."

She could tell when he was lying, and that was truth. Giving him a small nod, she said, "We need to go."

Irritations aside, he returned her nod. "Right." Stepping over to the sheriff, he cheerfully said, "Good night, Vaizey," and landed a solid punch to the point of the man's jaw, knocking him out cold. John released his grip, letting his captive slump gracelessly to the cobbles. Joining Djaq, John carefully picked up Edward, as Robin let out a piercing whistle.

"My gang, this way!" he called, gesturing toward the side gate. He reached for Marian's hand, turning to her as he did. It was the first time they had faced one another, and as he noticed the blood on the front of her dress, fear flashed across his features. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared, but she knew what she had seen, and it made her heart ache.

"It's nothing," she said quietly. "Just the stitches." She was fairly certain of that, anyway, being that the pain seemed to be remaining on the surface, and not spreading deep within herself, as it had before.

Giving her an almost chiding look, but one which was laced with a goodly dose of his usual humor, he swept her up and headed toward the side gate, where the rest of the gang was already ducking out. It would still take them past the main gate, but most of the guards who remained on their feet had been working their way through the crowd toward the castle steps; so, the coast should be more or less clear.

As he picked her up, she gave his shoulder a shove. "I am perfectly capable of walking."

"I have no doubt of that," he replied, already in motion. "However, I am perfectly capable of carrying you, so just enjoy the ride." While his tone was mostly teasing, there was a strange, almost tense, note to it, which she recognized as worry. If this eased his mind, she could accept the gesture.

There were several horses tied along the main street, and the outlaws liberated some of them. The ride would be difficult on the injured pair, but it made escaping the city gates and getting into the forest much easier.

And, Robin insisted that Marian share his horse, riding in front of him in case she was hurting worse than she claimed and thus was in danger of losing consciousness. For about half a second, she considered arguing that, as well; but, it was a valid concern from his perspective, and they were in too much of a hurry to deliberate, so she agreed.

If she were to say that part of her acquiescence was not due to the fact that it was a very pleasant way to travel, pain from the wound aside, she would be a liar.

As they exited the town and approached the treeline, the sounds of chaos faded in the distance, Marian wondered what would happen next. She was so accustomed to planning everything out, and she had no plan this time. She did not even have one of Robin's half-plans.

The shadows of Sherwood swallowed them up as an uncertain future settled around her.