Author Notes: Many, many thanks to the lovely LadyKate63 for beta-reading this story.
Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Guy of Gisborne, Robin Hood, the Gang et al. I've earned nothing from this endeavor save the joy that comes from the writing and the opportunity of some nice feedback.
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Armistice
Guy struggled under Meg's weight. He'd been walking for hours, and he was exhausted, but he had to get her to safety. Someplace she could die in peace. Her eyes remained closed during the long trek into the forest, but an occasional groan emanated from her when he jostled her too much. His throat constricted at each pain-filled sound.
It was dark when he finally felt safe enough to stop, but he pressed on. The greater the distance between him and Isabella's guards the better; although, had the guards wanted to catch him, they really wouldn't have had much trouble. So Guy didn't question why he hadn't been tracked, he just welcomed the respite.
But he could continue no further; his arms and legs burned from his efforts, and Meg's moans came with increasing frequency.
He dropped to his knees at the base of a tree and balanced her on his lap. Her eyes fluttered open, her face soft with appreciation and, dare he say, affection. Her high cheekbones, once bright with color, were now pale from blood loss; her blue eyes were glassy in the moonlight. Guy brushed back the tangled caramel-colored curls from her face. "Shh, shh…"
She searched his eyes, and he felt as if she touched his very soul. Whatever she found must have satisfied her.
"Please..." she mewled, her gaze asking for what she did not voice.
She honored him with her request. He was not worthy of it, but he would not deny her.
A wisp of a smile floated across his face as he lowered his head. Her eyes fluttered shut as he touched his lips to hers.
Feather soft and over in a heartbeat.
It was such a small gesture, but it humbled him. The redemption he'd looked for in Marian had never come, but the reward of Meg's smile was like a baptism, and Guy finally felt cleansed.
"I always quite liked you," she said, her voice weak.
Wonder washed over him at her words. Strange that the simple words of a village girl he had known less than a day should fill him with such gratitude and...warmth. He wished he'd known her better, wished he'd had a chance to know her better, had a chance to be the man she'd seen.
A moment later, her essence left her and she wilted into lifelessness.
A fist closed around his heart, what was left of it, and threatened to cut off his own life's blood.
With a gentle touch, Guy brushed her eyelids closed. Tears trickled down his cheeks and he allowed the sobs to come. For Meg. For Marian. For himself.
He curled Meg's lifeless body into his and buried his face in her neck. He wept, rocking back and forth, keening in sorrow and anger.
He'd barely known the girl a day and she'd managed to burrow her way into his affections. And he'd managed to destroy her, just as he'd destroyed Marian.
He was a monster. He could see it now.
It had taken some time for his rage and grief over Marian to distill into self-awareness and self-knowledge. The self-loathing had come, too. And with Meg's absolution, unknowingly given, but gratefully received and accepted, Guy now knew what he had to do.
When the tears no longer flowed, and his weeping had stopped, Guy looked down at the girl in his arms. Meg.... He must bury her, but he could not do it by himself. First, he had no tools. Second, he did not know the forest well, and he wanted a place of beauty for her. Third, even if he had a shovel it would take him too long alone.
Staggering to his feet under her lifeless weight, Guy stumbled toward the Great North Road. He had no idea where Hood and his men might be holed up for the night, but if he could get to the main thoroughfare through the forest, surely he could get Hood's attention.
Once he reached the road, Guy found a secure place to lay Meg's body.
He looked up and down the road. Taking a deep draught of air, he bayed, long and deep, "Hooood!" He allowed the echo to disappear and then called again. And again. And again.
"Tell me why I should not kill you where you stand," Hood demanded.
Guy's heart leapt to his throat and he whirled around. Hood stood next to a large tree, bow and arrow aimed straight at Guy's chest, which was woefully protected by his thin black tunic.
Guy swallowed, a half dozen retorts came to mind, but now was not the time. It was Meg he must think of. As she had thought of him.
With deliberate slowness, Guy raised his arms in a gesture of surrender. "I...I need your help."
Hood scoffed. "Is this some sort of trap?"
"No. I swear. The girl—" Guy jerked his head in Meg's direction. "—she is dead. I need to bury her."
Hood glanced in Meg's direction and then brought his gaze back to Guy. "Why should I help you?"
Guy hung his head for a moment and then met Hood's eyes once more. "There is no reason you should help me. Do it for the girl."
One side of Hood's mouth turned upwards.
"She was an innocent and died trying to help me. Burying her is the least I can do," Guy said.
Hood's silence wore on. It rankled. How hard was it to say yea or nay?
"Hood, we don't have all night. If you want to kill me, fine, just do it after we've laid the girl to rest." Not that Guy wanted to die any longer, or that he'd let Robin try to kill him without putting up a fight. "Now, will you please make up your mind?"
Hood studied Guy for several long moments. Finally, he said, "Aye. Where?"
Guy cocked his head and canted it forward in acknowledgment. "I don't know. Someplace peaceful...beautiful." He whispered the last word. Beauty had been absent from his world for far too long. He did not know of it, would not recognize it.
Hood nodded. "How about Harrow's Glade; do you know it?"
Guy shook his head. "No."
"It is a ways, but it's isolated," Hood said.
"Good. Let me get Meg," he said, moving toward her.
Hood whistled and a few moments later a woman and several men, including Allan, stepped into view. They all eyed Guy suspiciously, their weapons at the ready.
The woman glared at him, her anger and hostility touching him. No doubt he'd done something horrible to her or her family. Oh, yes...her brother.
A twinge of regret poked at his gut, but the past was the past. He could only go forward.
The large man carried a thick staff and eyed Guy. Wary, but not too worried. Indeed, the man could take Guy down with out much trouble. His stint in the dungeons left him weakened. It was all he could do to carry Meg.
The monk? So that's where he'd gotten to. One of Hood's men, now. Interesting.
Allan gave him a nod.
Guy acknowledged Allan with a slight tilt of his own head.
"Allan, Tuck, find some shovels; Kate we need burial cloths. Little John, Much, you're with us," Hood directed.
"Why should I do anything for that murderer?" the woman—Kate—spat.
"It is for the girl, Kate, now go," said Hood in a tone that brooked no argument.
The two of them held a silent showdown, but Hood won and the woman huffed before disappearing into trees behind the men. Guy heard them moving away. The other two waited near Hood.
Guy hefted Meg's body into his arms and followed Hood, the other two men following on each side and slightly behind Guy. They kept an eye on him, as if he was going to suddenly drop the body and pull out a weapon and go after their leader. Not that they didn't have a basis for their suspicions.
As they progressed, Guy's pace became slower and slower.
"I will take her," the large unkempt man called Little John offered.
Guy stopped. His legs and arms burned with exhaustion. But he owed Meg. And it was penance, meager though it was. He offered the man a single nod. "No. I must do it...but th-thank you."
John nodded as if he understood. And nobody offered after that. They just matched his speed as he plodded along.
After what seemed like hours of more walking, they finally reached the glade. Allan and Tuck arrived only moments later with the shovels.
Guy dropped to his knees and moved to lay Meg down so that he might help dig.
Hood placed a hand on Guy's shoulder. "My men and I will take care of it."
"Thank you," Guy growled. He was unaccustomed to consideration from Hood and it rankled.
The long grasses shimmered in the moonlight. Hood's men were digging at a spot on the outer edge of the open area, near a lovely flowering tree. There were four shovels, and they took turns digging.
Guy remained kneeling, cradling Meg, as the men worked. The woman, Kate, returned, and then stood about, casting glances at Hood.
"Gisborne," called Hood, taking a few steps back.
Guy struggled to his feet and then moved forward until he stood a few paces from the open rectangle of the freshly dug grave. He fell to his knees, clasping Meg close.
Tears burned his eyes and he blinked them back. Damnation. He thought he'd shed all the tears he'd had. He bowed his head, burying his face in Meg's soft hair.
Why this young girl? This girl who claimed to hate men and yet befriended him; claimed to see some good in him and then risked her own safety to rescue him.
"I'm so sorry..." Guy whispered. "But I'm grateful to have known you. I bid you the freedom in death you sought in life."
He laid her on the thin linen that had somehow appeared. Hood, of all people, helped him wrap Meg's body and then gently lower her into the ground.
They stood, and Hood's men circled in with their shovels. Guy held out a hand to Allan. "Let me do this."
Allan handed Guy his shovel and stepped back, as did the rest of them.
Guy tucked into the mound of dirt and began filling the too-large gash in the ground. He'd never buried someone himself. He always had underlings to perform the task.
As he worked, Meg's words played through his head.
I'm not 'stupid girl.' I'm Meg.
Scoop, turn, dump.
Is your life really that empty that you don't care whether you live or die?
Scoop, turn, dump.
There must be some good in you, yet.
Scoop, turn, dump.
Won't you release Guy, too?
Scoop, turn, dump.
I can't let her kill ya; I just can't.
Scoop, turn, dump.
Look out, Guy! Guy, no!
Scoop, turn, dump.
I always quite liked you.
Guy dropped the shovel and fell to his knees, hanging his head. His shoulders and arms burned, his heart pounded, his head light.
His soul was heavy and dark.
The other men stepped forward and finished filling the grave. When it was filled, they moved away.
"C'mon, lads, lets go," Hood said quietly—respectfully.
"B-but, Robin…" said a voice. Guy couldn't remember the name. "We can't just leave him."
"Aye, Much, we can, and we will. Today is a good day to live."