This is my first fanfic- so yeah, I'm pretty nervous. Also I'm pretty useless with technology at times, it took me over an hour to get this uploaded... (Go figure)
ANYWAY this does take place during season two, but I reckon it'll be between episode 1 and 2... I'm aware that the time frame of this fanfic will probably be a bit longer than what it was intented to be but hey, they don't mention how much time has passed! Yep, it's rated T cause of the themes, as mentioned etc. I actually don't have any images (apologies) but I wrote/uploaded this on my tablet which doesn't allow me for some reason. Sorry! :(
ANYWAY I hope you enjoy :)
Disclaimer: I only own Henry (who I call Nettleden, you'll see below and stuff) and Elizabeth.
Chapter One - Honoured Guests
The castle courtyard was in a flurry of activity. The sherrif's standard was being hastily raised, servants skidded across the ground with brooms, kitchen maids darted about with baskets of food under their arms. At the centre of it all was Vaisey, barking orders like a feral dog.
"Get on with it! In this century, that would be preferable! Why do I employ idiots? Gisborne! GISBORNE!"
From the shadows emerged an equally shadowy man. From the crown of his head to the tip of his toes he dressed entirely in black, which contrasted with his pale pallor. His blue eyes were alert, and although his hand appeared to be relaxed on the hilt of his sword, a closer look would reveal it was ready to draw at a moments notice. This all contributed to the unmistakable message: this was not a man to cross.
"I heard you called for me, my lord," he drawled.
Vaisey's nostrils flared,but Gisborne seemed to be unfazed by these signs of obvious anger.
"It is yet again down to your incompetence that we are in this mess. Yet again I am left to pick up the pieces of your failings. Do you think I enjoy it? A clue: no," Vaisey snapped, jabbing his finger roughly into Gisborne's chest. Gisborne looked away to conceal his exasperation, before turning back, a faint, smug smile etched on his face.
"Forgive me, my lord, but my duties seem not to cover arranging entertainments for our most honoured guest. However, next time, my lord, I will be more careful to remind you beforehand."
At this, Vaisey exploded. The stress of being the Sheriff of Nottingham never usually pursued him, but today there seemed to be an exception
"But it is in your duties to capture Hood! How many times has he wandered through those gates and back out again without a single reprocussion?" He snarled, causing several guards and servants to back away as far as they could in alarm. Fortunately, at that moment a messenger appeared, preventing Vaisey causing any physical damage to Gisborne.
"My lord! The Earl of Hertford is here at hand! He comes presently into Nottingham castle!"
Vaisey turned and glared at Gisborne, but then viciously turned on his heel and headed towards the steps. Gisborne, after pausing a moment, followed him, releasing his grip on his sword.
"You'll like our most honoured guest, Gisborne." mused the sheriff, rocking backwards and fowards on his toes as they waited on the steps. "I believe that you two will get on, shall we say, like a house on fire?"
Gisborne's features hardened, and involuntarily glanced at the sheriff, before clenching his jaw and turning his face away.
"Of course, that will probably be because you have actually set houses on fire, isn't it?" continued Vaisey, in a casual manner, but fully aware that his words inflicted sharply into Gisborne. "Ah look, he has arrived."
The sheriff nodded at the small procession now entering the castle. A coat of arms fluttered slightly in the breeze, of a red tree on a blue background. A large, luxurious carriage stopped in front of the stone steps. From the inside a deep voice was barking orders, and haggered looking men rushed to open the door. As it creeped open, Gisborne took a small step forward, slightly curious. Their guest had come with a large retinue of men, which seemed to not only comprise of soldiers, but of personal servants too. Large chests, heavily padlocked so not even the smallest ant could crawl in, were treated with as much respect as their owner. Gisborne usually despised people, who usually despised him back, but he was almost impressed by this enigmatic guest.
The door opened, and out stepped the Earl of Hertford. It was a wonder how he managed to fit through the door, for he was wonderously fat. Five chins wobbled under his thin mouth, and he seemed to have a habit of licking his lips, as though he could smell roasting pork. His eyes were small and darted about, resting on one person, assesing, and then quickly moving on. His clothes stretched over his stomach, barely keeping it within, but everyone took in the rich embroidery and expensive fur that edged his cloak. He must have previously been a powerful man, for his arms appeared look like a pair of strong tree trunks. He spotted Vaisey and heaved himself up the steps, with a large grin on his face.
"Vaisey!" he boomed, opening his arms. Vaisey reflected his gesture, and for a moment it seem he would be lost in the folds of the Earl's embrace.
"Our most honoured guest, Henry of Nettleden, Earl of Hertford." annouced the sheriff once he had been released from the near suffocating greeting.
"I was concerned to hear that there is still a problem of this so called Robin Hood, Vaisey," commented Nettleden, "I would have expected you to have surpressed him by now. The Prince, as you know , is most displeased, and is not likley to be tolerant much longer of your excuses."
Vaisey's smile faltered, and Gisborne clenched his fist. Then, quite unexpectedly, Nettleden laughed, his fat quaking and rippling under his clothes. Vaisey began to laugh as well, his rotting teeth bared for all
to see. Gisborne, like many others around him, were torn between confusion and amusemet at Nettleden's ridiculous laugh. Vaisey spotted Gisborne, and turned the guest towards Gisborne to intoduce him.
"Ah yes, let me introduce Sir Guy of Gisborne."
Gisborne nodded curtly. "Welcome, my lord."
Nettleden observed Gisborne longer than any other so far, his tiny eyes darting all over his face. He appeared (to Gisborne anyway) to be calculating - but what this was was unknown. Nettleden breathed out heavily through his nose, before glancing over his shoulder. Gisborne attempted to follow his gaze, but he had already turned back to Vaisey. He then showed one of his sausage like fingers to the sheriff, but before anyone could see what was one his finger he had hidden his hand underneath his vast cloak. Nettleden's eyes darted over the scene below, before bellowing:
"Elizabeth! Here! Now!"
From amongst the crowd below a hooded woman emerged, climbing the stone steps slowly and carefully. The hood of her cloak obscured her face, but Gisborne assumed this was Nettleden's wife. For a moment, he wondered how Nettleden managed to even secure a wife, but them reminded himself, judging by his apparent wealth, she was probably a shallow, ignorant woman, likely after his money to obtain some pretty dress. The figure stopped just a few steps below Vaisey, and lowered her hood.
"My daughter, Lady Elizabeth." grunted Nettleden shortly.
Gisborne was even more intrigued that this man had even managed to produce offspring. The Lady Elizabeth curtsied silently at Vaisey, whose eyes flicked over her face, before moving down to her breasts and hips. She had an expression of indifference on her face, as though it made no difference to whom she was greeting- it could have been the filthiest, foulest peasant or the very King himself. Nettleden suddenly pulled her ear to his mouth, his tiny eyes bulging with anger, his face swelling with red rage.
"You stupid girl," he hissed, spit flying onto her face, "Don't you know who that is? Sir Guy of Gisborne! I knew you would damage this, you're just as irksome as your mother."
Elizabeth turned to face Gisborne, as curtsied as though her father had never interfered at all, droplets of spit still splattered on her cheek. But he noted that as she turned, her eyes rolled, seen by no one but himself. He features darkened, angry at the lack of respect this woman had for he father, and by further extension, himself.
"Forgive me, my lord," she said tonelessly. Her eyes looked fearlessly into his. Perhaps it was their deep, rich blue colour, but it seemed that the woman's eyes were at work, carefully assessing him, in contrast to her indifferent face. Out of the corner of his eye, Gisborne saw Nettleden swell, and Elizabeth grudgingly extended her hand to him. Clenching his jaw, he lifted it to his mouth. Then suddenly, she gave a small gasp, as though in pain, and withdrew her hand. He looked curiously at her, but she merely gave him a cold, scathing look and joined her father's side.
"Now," said Nettleden loudly, rubbing his hands together gleefully and completely ignoring his daughter's presence, "I hope you have laid on a magnificent feast in honour of me, Vaisey. The journey has made me ravenous."
"Only the best wine," replied Vaisey, gesturing for Nettleden to follow him into the castle, "And the best meat. I'm afraid the company is not much. Gisborne is usually always sulking over something."
Nettleden waved his pudgy hand. "I care little for it. Food and wine is all I need at the moment." His entire body seemed to quiver at the prospect of a feast. "My daughter's not much either. Ignorant. Women never really have much worth to say anyway, so I don't care. It's what you do with them is what counts, eh Vaisey?"
Elizabeth turned away in disgust as her father loudly boasted about his previous supposed conquests. Gisborne found himself walking alongside her, the clinking of his boots breaking the silence between them. She seemed to be purposefully ignoring him, which provoked deeper dislike of her. Yet, something about her intrigued him. He wasn't sure what it was- all he could think of were those deep blue eyes looking into his. Perhaps it was the incident with her hand. Gisborne decides this was it, but he knew inside this was not the real answer.
"Is is far, from Nettleden?" he inquired. Elizabeth turned to him, apparently annoyed at being disturped.
"Far enough," was all she replied.
"I am the sheriff's most trusted lieutenant," Perhaps, reasoned Gisborne, if the woman knew his importance, then she would have a little more respect, "I own the estate of Locksley."
Elizabeth snorted. Gisborne curled one hand around the hilt of his sword and the other into a fist.
"Locksley? I believed you were Guy of Gisborne. Where is that supposed great estate?" Elizabeth said scathingly.
At this, Gisborne seized her arm and pulled her face threateningly close to his. Anger shot through his veins, and he knew that he could curl one hand around her throat and strangle her.
"You know nothing," he spat, "You are fortunate that I show you leniency." He roughly let her go, but noticed she was barely fazed by his threat. Her eyes carefully assessed him once more, before she turned and swept away. Gisborne glared at those around him, who were looking at him in various guises of horror. He stormed back outside and kicked a barrel hard, causing it to fall and smash into hundreds of splinters. Now not only did he have to flatter and entertain an overweight, greedy fool, but he had to be in the same castle of an obnoxious, disrespectful girl. But he knew he would have to put up with it, for his reward would be power. More power than anyone could ever dream he could have. Then no one would question him. Not even her.