DAY ONE

Today marked the beginning of a very easy fortnight for him. As his boots scuffed down the steps, a smile spread across the fit man's face. Within the next few days, he would be tripping over gifts from the people of Locksley, winning hundreds of crowns from lousy gamblers, and enjoying the company of caroling women with less than strict morals. Today was December 25th, the first of the twelve days of Christmas.

As per usual the Sheriff demanded that Sir Guy keep a watchful eye over Nottingham's festival to extinguish the inevitable brawls that would erupt as townspeople lost their money to the gambling tables. The people of Nottingham were always so caught up in the music, the games, theatrics, and the worry free joy of the season – which was the perfect opportunity for Guy to shake of the stress of his regular duties and do two weeks' worth of nothing.

He approached the heavy wooden doors that led outside to the courtyard and felt a hint of the awaiting cold seeping through the frame. He pulled his gloves on a little tighter and braced his body for the chill. Opening the doors, the sound of bards, laughter, and children's games floated above the castle walls and danced about in the courtyard. It would bring a smile to anyone and everyone – except the man in black. He found it all so petty. Just because the weather hit the coldest point of the year didn't mean all inhibitions should be abandoned and silver linings should appear. The next two weeks were days, simply days, but they left plenty of room for him to take advantage of open hearted people. And that is what made this season joyous.

He made his way through the archway that divided the castle from the city of Nottingham and paused briefly, rubbing a bit of decorative evergreen between the fingers of his left hand. It was so frail, and so dull; a plant just like any other. Picking off a piece and throwing it aside, he continued down the street. Sir Guy wore his thickest clothes to keep him warm but made sure that his sword was on display from his hip to assert authority. As he passed clusters of townsfolk they hushed their voices a bit. He always enjoyed that ember of terror he put into commoners as the Lord of Locksley wandered by, it was so comforting to know he was that important. Guy approached a small gaming stand and placed a few bets. He intentionally lost a crown or two before leaving to encourage other players – after all, their losses went straight into his castle. Or rather, the Sheriff's castle. Guy shook his head to get rid of the reminder that the small man still held authority over him. He was so close to power he could taste it every night as he went to sleep.

A group of fairly attractive carolers drifted near him. If anyone was to complain that women had begun lewdly dancing around town to a song or two, it wouldn't be him. Although they were a bit worried about the man in black, some of the girls saw a perfect opportunity to snatch up a man with a title and began trying to impress him. As the tall brunette tried her hardest, his gaze wandered across the crowd until he became stuck staring in the same place.

Down the road was a new face. Was it new? He didn't know it, nor did he pay attention to half of the people of Nottinghamshire, but surely he would remember such a thing as this. Her golden hair was pinned up with curls brushing down to the base of her neck, showcasing her round pale face. It was clear she was trying to understand one of the games the men were playing, but somehow no one seemed to take note of the young, fresh faced beauty standing behind them. Sir Guy of Gisborne placed a hand on the arm of the dancer and pushed her aside, never taking his eyes off of his target. The breath became stuck in his throat as he came closer and closer to her side. It had been so long since words were so far from him…

"Enjoying the game?" he softly asked in his baritone voice. The girl, who was chewing her bottom lip like candy, turned to her left to see him. She stood up to only his shoulders and blushed a little at his bright blue eyes that were cradled in soft wrinkles.

"I can't say I quite understand it, but it's a nice part of the festival." She slowly drove her green eyes back to the craps table. Men surrounded it, most with cups of Christmas ale firmly gripped, rolling dice and laughing, tossing crowns about here and there. Guy let a small smirk crawl up the side of his lips.

"Well, it's gambling based on color and number. You choose what you think you will get, bet money, roll the die, and see if luck is in your favor. Quite the game for a rush." She rose up onto her toes to try and get a better view of the game. After admiring her gentle frame for a moment, Guy continued, "You should give it a shot." She glanced at him, back to the table, and into his strong face again.

"Oh, no, no," she let out a soft chuckle and landed back flat on her feet, "I have never played and, to be honest, spare crowns aren't something visitors tend to carry." Gisborne placed a hand in his pocket and pulled out a crown. He slipped it gently into her right hand with a smile. She tried to deny him but he hushed her calmly, ensuring that he would show her how it's done.

"As long as you tell me who I have just given my money to, it's not a problem." She bit her lip again and smiled.

"Ruby. My name is Ruby." He nodded and led her to the table. It was rather full, but that was no problem for Guy. With a menacing stare he chased away two players, leaving room for the both of them to stand comfortably close. She chose to bet on black out of honor for the kind man in black who had helped her and, sure enough, she doubled her money. In a fit of excitement, she wrapped her arms around his left arm and stole every chance of a breath from his body. Once he reclaimed his suave, they meandered down the road past minstrels and holly, dodging random drunkards here and there.

"So tell me, what brings you to Nottingham? You say you're visiting?" Sir Guy's voice was deep and soothing. Ruby ran her hands over a stretch of holly on one of the buildings that was decorated quite festively.

"I'm here to see my sister. She lives here in town with her husband and, well, she is the only place I have to turn to now," she felt his eyebrows screw up but didn't look into his face, "my father recently died you see and now… well now I need a home, don't I?" she added a smile to the end. Guy wasn't sure if she tried to sound cheery to trick herself or him. He gave his condolences and rolled the idea around in his head for a bit before speaking.

"You lived with your father then? That must mean you aren't married."

"My father was a very protective man. Didn't want me to meet a single suitor until I was twenty. Go figure, I reach twenty and he dies soon after," her lips pulled a bit tight before smiling. "Always a daft man with a poor sense of time."

The pair of them laughed and joked and flirted their way through the festival without a single regard to closing of the afternoon. They neared Nottingham castle, passing several of the Sheriff's guards. One of the men swiftly approached Guy from the front gate.

"Sir Guy, madame," he bowed his head for a moment before continuing, "The Sheriff would like to see you. He says you have plans to go over…" The soldier's words trailed off as he saw Gisborne's stare become harder and more aggressive. Could he not see that the man in black was enjoying himself? Actually, genuinely enjoying himself? Anger swelled up inside his veins and threatened to burst all over the doorman. Ruby laid a hand on Guy's shoulder just before he could speak his discontent.

"Go," he turned to see her light eyes and protest, but chuckled and repeated herself, "Go! It isn't polite to keep a Sheriff waiting. Besides, you're an important man. You must have more important things to do with your day. Perhaps I will be lucky enough to see you again at the festival another day."

"I sincerely hope so." He beamed. They traded grins and went their separate ways, but not before Gisborne tightened his jaw and shot at the man who had taken away his relaxing day.

He treaded to the courtyard and stopped at an archway with more evergreen dangling from the stone. He pulled off his right glove and gingerly held the soft greenery between his fingers, rubbing it a bit to feel the bristles against his skin. It was small, delicate, and beautiful. This moment of peace, he knew, would cling to him all day, no matter what the Sheriff had in store.