Robin Hood - A long way home
The voyage home was a long one and both of the two men were in very different moods. The Sheriff paced up and down, cursing under his breath. Most of the crew were a mix of French and Saracens and spoke very little English, but those who did were able to gather the cause of his anger. A plot, a plot to kill a King. A plot that he had spent so much time and money on had failed - stopped by a group of outlaws. There was a girl involved too. The crew weren't sure how, but they suspected that she was the main reason for the other man's behavior. They didn't know much about him - he hadn't said a word since boarding the ship. He just sat there, alone, at the very back of the ship, leather clad arms wrapped around leather clad knees. His eyes were red, both with tiredness and from crying. He never ate and none of them had seen him sleep. Occasionally his hand twitched towards the small, curved dagger that lay on the deck beside him or he'd cast a longing look into the murky depths of the sea visible over the side of the ship.
Sir Guy of Gisborne was not a happy man. Never before has he wished so hard for time travel to be possible. He had killed before, both in cold blood and in the heat of battle, but never had he felt this awful about it. He'd said once before that without Marian his world may as well turn to ashes. Now he'd lost her and it was entirely his fault. Not since she's abandoned him and his family when he was merely a boy had Sir Guy of Gisborne ever longed for his mother - the only person ever to genuinely show him even the slightest bit of affection. When she left, Guy was 8 years old; his parents separated and his mother remarried - when he was forbidden to attend the wedding by both his father and his step-father to be, Guy lost all faith in his mother and hadn't even wanted to see her since. But now, now was different. Now, he just longed for the comfort of his mother's arms, to hear her voice comforting him, telling him that everything would be alright. He couldn't eat. The food turned to ash in his mouth and he couldn't sleep because of the horrific nightmares that had begun to plague him constantly - her ice blue eyes glaring straight into his soul.
The depths of the ocean were looking increasingly more inviting - as was his dagger - the same dagger he almost killed her with last year. But he knew, deep down inside that even if he were to take his own life, he wouldn't be with Marian again, or his mother, or even his father and his older brother. They had their faults, but he'd had a room booked in hell ever since he first joined the Sheriff - he could see that now. But surely even hell would be better than this endless torture - slowly descending into a pit of grief, hate, anger and self-loathing. Occasionally the Sheriff would come and crow about how he would have England, but Gisborne wasn't listening. Much to the Sheriff's disappointment, it was as if an invisible barrier has formed between Gisborne and the outside world and only the odd word of the Sheriff's taunts would drift through - leaper, distraction, traitor, Hood, sword - each word that reached Gisborne's ears were like arrows hailing down him, sending him deeper and deeper into the pit. Pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Only time would tell if two men would be getting off the ship when it reached England or just the one...