Do you remember the night

Oh, the night when we were lostIn the shade of the blackthorn

And the touch of the frost?

Oh, and thanks be to Jesus

We did all that was right

And your maidenhead still

Is your pillar of light.

-"I Am Stretched On Your Grave" Kate Rusby-

The hardest thing he ever had to learn was that Marian was gone.

Gone, and where she had gone to, there was no going back.

In the days and weeks following Marian's death (her murder, at his hands) Guy returned to Locksley with a heavy heart. Though it devastated him, though he was consumed entirely by the blackest grief and bitterness, he must return to his duties at once. The role of a nobleman suddenly had very little to recommend it.

Guy assumed that Marian had been laid to rest in Jerusalem. He would never get to pay his respects, would never get to apologize for what he had done – at least not in this life. He had irrevocably extinguished the only light left in his life, and she had taken all that was good of him with her.

Yet, he had never truly been able to claim her. Though God knew (and God only, aside from them) how close she had come to yielding to him . . .

Aren't you cold?

Yes, I am a bit. Are you?

I am, a bit. What are you doing out here?

Oh, she had replied briskly, wrinkling her nose slightly in the fashion that he found so adorable. I thought I'd pick some blackberries. You know, before they go bad.

Before they go bad?

Guy, surely you've heard of what happens to blackberries after Old Michaelmas Day!

Oh, right, that silly little tale. . .

It's not silly! It'd serve you right to eat a bad berry! Marian pursed her lips in an irritated pout, and Guy's heart leapt in his chest.

Here – Guy inched forward and plucked a berry out of Marian's hands. He popped the berry into his mouth and smacked his lips. God that's good! Guy's lips curled in a smirk as he beheld Marian's reaction: eyes wide, she stared at Guy as if he were an angel ascended from heaven. Her mouth gaped open, and she moved a hand to cover it.

Well, she murmured, so softly as to almost not be heard. There you are, then. I hope you enjoyed it, because that's the last berry of mine you're going to get!

Is that so? Guy moved so quickly that Marian gasped, wrapping an arm around her waist as he pushed her up against the trunk of the nearest blackthorn. For a moment they simply stared at one another, their breaths quickening. Marian's basket dropped to the ground, scattering blackberries.

How dare you! Look what you've d –

Guy cut off her complaint with a fierce kiss, grinding his body against hers until she whimpered.

Guy pushed the folds of her dress upward, thrusting his fingers into the damp heat between her legs, ripping the cloth of her undergarment. G-Guy! Wh-what are you doing? Marian moaned and closed her eyes as a torrent of pleasure washed over her, seizing her limbs, paralyzing her as Guy continued his ministrations.

Guy knelt down in front of her. He withdrew his fingers to hold up her dress as he languidly ran his tongue over her clit, lapping up the gathering piscine juices. Oh my goodness! Oh my g – Guy, don't stop, please! Marian keened and mewled like a cat in heat. Suddenly freed, she pushed herself against him, reveling in the rough burn of new beard on his cheek as it scratched her labia.

Guy kissed her deeply, suckling at her clit as if he could never get enough – like to the flow of milk to a ravenous baby, latched to its mother's breast. He wanted more. He wanted her – all of her.

Guy tore himself away with an anguished groan, pressing his forehead against Marian's knee.

No, he whispered, turning aside to press a kiss to her leg. Marian, we must stop this!

Yes, Marian gasped, struggling to catch her breath. Yes, Guy, you are right.

Somehow, Marian managed to straighten her dress, smiling gently at Guy as he replenished her basket. Here you are, he murmured almost shyly as he extended the basket toward her. Thank you, Marian said. She reached into the basket for a ripe berry and bit into it. Her eyes brightened.

I believe these are the best blackberries I have ever eaten. Don't you think?

Yes, Guy conceded, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. I concur.