A/N - a little AU, this piece makes Marian into a slightly darker character; I hope she doesn't jar!
Courtly Love
Chapter 1
From her very comfortable seat at the head table, she looked around the banquet hall with a practiced air of aloofness, her chin tilted at a defiant angle and a faint, self-satisfied smirk pulling at her lips. She could feel the eyes upon her, from people from all walks of life, they were curious about her. The Lady Marian, the daughter of the sheriff, the ice queen; they knew precious little about her, yet her fame preceded her everywhere she went. She could not own to disliking this fact, it meant that she had to make a minimum of effort to get what she wanted; people fell over themselves to please her - more for fear of not knowing what her reaction would be if they failed than anything else.
Ignoring the serving girl who had appeared at her elbow to refill her goblet with wine, she took in the nobles of the room. Lord Henry 'Hotspur' Percy was in the corner, charming several young ladies - and a couple of men - with his tales of victory in the north; the elderly and distinguished Sir James Audley was seated at a nearby banqueting table with his wife, the two were engaged in a deeply private conversation, if their bowed heads were any indication; Vasey, the diminutive yet ferociously intelligent noble favoured by the House of Plantagenet, could be seen from the corner of her eye, conversing with a much taller man who she did not recognise. Turning her head to get a better view, she raised her now full goblet to her lips and peered over the rim at the two men who had caught her attention.
Vasey's companion stood a clear head higher than he, the man's figure was lithe and powerful, his close-cut doublet leaving that fact unquestionable. His jet black hair fell in a wave of silk over the collar of the wine-coloured garment. His weight was propped confidently on one hip and his left hand rested on the pommel of the sword belted at his waist. If Marian's eyes did not deceive her, the sword the man favoured was thinner and longer than the average soldier's blade. The golden emblem embroidered onto his cloak made it clear that this was a Knight of the Garter, so he was obviously a fierce warrior; it appeared highly likely that his choice of weapon was not accidental.
Vasey said something that made the man laugh and Marian was treated to the sight of a long column of throat as he threw his head back in mirth. Her interest well and truly piqued by now, she let her eyes rove over his long limbed form; she may be a maid but let it not be said that she did not have eyes. The longer she looked, the more she liked what she saw. He filled his clothes very well, clearly he had an excellent tailor; his breeches were tight in all the right places and his doublet emphasised his broad shoulders and trim waist.
The Prince's voice in her ear startled her from her admiration, "He is Sir Guy of Gisbourne, my Lady Marian, I had been considering proposing him to you as a suitor. Gisbourne is a loyal servant to the crown and he is a man of means, he would see you comfortable for the rest of your days."
A thought - lightning-fast - shot through her mind that this delicious man could be hers whenever she wanted, she need only say the word. The abrupt reminder of her power made for a heady sensation and she reveled in it for a brief moment before answering the Prince. "I am grateful to you, your Highness," she had not looked away from Gisbourne, and now he was looking at her too. His eyes glittered dangerously at her from below a stern brow and his face betrayed no expression. He was still conversing with Vasey, turning his face, but not his eyes, towards the other man; his eyes were fixed unflinchingly on Marian. She fought back a smirk, still floating on a cloud of feminine power, it would not do to have her carefully crafted public facade stripped away by a pair of piercing eyes and a handsome face. Breaking the staring match, she turned to dazzle the Prince with a smile, "But I am betrothed to Robin, Earl of Huntington."
The Prince waved a dismissive hand and scoffed, "Pah, I can make and break betrothals as I please. Besides, Huntington is the lord of a mere squat of a village, he could barely afford to keep you in gowns!" Prince John nodded decisively. "I intend to bestow considerable lands and wealth on Gisbourne, upon the King's return; he will become a very wealthy man indeed. He has earned it, he has served his country well."
Marian returned her gaze to the men, only to find their previous perch empty; they were nowhere to be seen. She huffed a quiet sigh and said to the Prince, "I would not be averse to knowing this man, Sire."
The Prince smirked knowingly. "Indeed."
Edward Knighton had worked hard to raise his family's profile and fortunes over the years, and to the larger extent he had been successful. They moved in all the right circles, dined with the right people, were seen in the right places and, most importantly of all, they danced the delicate dance. Not only that but they danced it well. Knighton was at the height of his success; as Sheriff of Nottingham he was positioned at the pinnacle of the region's hierarchy, it made him very rich, very popular and very powerful. Knighton was clever, he knew that to try to advance any further than he had would be foolish - once one passed from the tertiary into the secondary circle of court, one's life expectancy became considerably shorter - so he accepted his position as head of the region and resigned himself to remain there.
Robin came to visit her at the castle, as he often did, though she was never entirely sure if he came to court her or her father. The Earl of Huntington meant well, she was sure, but as a woman of occasionally precarious means - she was the daughter of a politician after all - she was well aware that to admire a lady for her charms alone was not enough; she had to have a purse to be admired as well. Robin's finances were as unfortunate as Prince John had suggested, so Marian - like the good apprentice politician she was - held her heart at a safe distance from him. She knew that if her father had any sense he would shortly be dissolving the betrothal between her and Huntington and be looking to make a new, more stable, arrangement with another young noble in court. To that end she was beginning to formulate her own ideas as to who would be a good match. This Gisbourne that the Prince had indicated as a possibility for her hand had potential; she told herself it was purely his promised station that interested her and not the magnetism that had flared briefly between them at the Prince's banquet.
Huntington's visit was shorter than usual today; he seemed to be picking up on the waves of icy aloofness radiating from Marian and took his leave as soon as was politely acceptable. Marian was relieved; he was a pleasant young man, very well meaning, and she did not wish to cause him any more discomfort than was necessary. He would not take the inevitable severance from her marital future well when the moment came. She was rearranging her skirts when her maid appeared at the door to her parlour to announce unexpected guests.
"Prince John and Sir Guy of Gisbourne, Ma'am."
The two men entered the room and Marian sucked in slow breath as her usually feminine retreat suddenly seemed to fill with testosterone. She rose to her feet to receive them, dipping a curtsey to the Prince as he pressed a gallant kiss to her knuckles.
"My Lady Marian, it is a pleasure, as always to see you in such good health. May I introduce my friend?" He gestured to the other man, "Sir Guy of Gisbourne; I believe you saw him at the banquet the other night." The Prince hid a smirk as he watched Marian and Guy size one another up in a quick glance. He had always suspected that Marian was her father's daughter, and as Edward was a master manipulator it stood to reason that Marian could turn out to be the same. It would be interesting to see her cool interacting with Gisbourne's fire.
"My Lady." Gisbourne bowed - once he had given her a once over with his eagle-like eyes - and marveled at her beauty. Now he had the opportunity to see it up close, it was easy to see how she had managed to beguile half of the men in court. After noticing her at the Prince's banquet he had asked one of the other knights about her - he knew better than to ask Vasey, that would be like a lost mouse asking a trustworthy looking cat the way home - and had learned that while she was a famous beauty, she was cold and untouchable. The statement had surprised him considering that he had seen something very hot and very touchable in her countenance as she had watched him across the room. The conflict between general consensus and his own first impression had settled the thought into his mind that he wanted to find out for himself what the truth was. But now was not the time to do that, after all this was their first proper introduction and to probe now - no matter how delicately done - would be unforgivably unchivalrous. He schooled his expression instead into a mask of polite interest.
"Sir Guy." Marian curtseyed demurely before flicking her eyes back up to meet his; they were pale, like ice-cold water on a winter's day, but something was behind them. Out of context and without knowing him at all, beyond a name, she had no idea as to what it could be. She felt the strange and irresistible draw to him, as she had the night of the banquet, but fought against it; now was neither the time nor the place to examine it.
The impromptu meeting was mercifully brief - merciful because Marian could feel her legendary cool beginning to falter in the company of such a powerfully magnetic presence - and she was glad when the men had taken their leave and departed. Sir Guy of Gisbourne was clearly a man to be handled carefully and preferably in small doses, if she had any hope of retaining her composure around him.
