Hello! I've been a bit absent from this forum. Truth be told I haven't written as much fanfiction as I would have liked and I've been very busy with work.
Anyway this is a Guy/Meg story. The 9th ep really inspired me. This prologue is really a written version of Guy/meg moments from the ep with a few bits added by me. I felt the story as a whole would benefit from having thier first and final moments together at the beginning of the story along with their thoughts on them ...
Anyway, it's not going to be a long fic. Just about 4 or 5 chapter. It will fallow the line of the next RH episodes as closely as my own plot will allow but not dialogue by dialogue as in this prologue.
Enjoy!!!
Prologue
Just a girl
There was silence … all around. Dead quiet as some might say. The thought made him sneer. How appropriate! After all what was he if not a dead man walking? What were the others … really?
Since he had been back from the Holy Land dead people seemed to be all around him. That was why he couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for hurting them … for killing them … All their struggles, all their pleas and useless resistance were in vain because they were already dead … dead but didn't know it. Just walking corpses waiting to be put out of their misery. At least his own would be ending soon … At least he knew when it was coming.
It seemed strange to him that now, as he was standing at the edge of the large, dark precipice he would soon be thrown into, he felt nothing. He had always been afraid of death, of the terrible, empty loneliness of it.
Then it dawned on him … the moment he set foot in this cell, his last place of residence, that he had spent his whole life alone. No one truly knew him or cared for him … no one had ever taken the trouble. Could death really be more terrible then that? Lonelier then that? More terrifying than that?
As he sat on the narrow, straw bed starring at the ceiling he told himself that tomorrow by this hour he would no longer be. He expected the thought to cause a shiver, a tremble, a hole in the pit of his stomach … Yet there was nothing. He tried again. He repeated the thought: "Tomorrow by this hour I will be dead." … Not even a sigh. He just exhaled quietly as the unspoken words rushed over him.
He must not want to live, he thought, for otherwise he would be in despair now, he would struggle, he would scream and yet he couldn't bring himself to even move. He feared the darkness he would find if he were even to turn his head.
He was alone … with nothing to keep him company. Even his dreams had deserted him. He missed them now … even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it. The same nightmares he had cursed every night … The same that had plagued him ever since … Ever since.
Now he could feel a black void spiraling upwards from his stomach! But he shook it away quickly, stuffed it back down from where it came. Soon it would be over.
And again there was silence … dead and still … comfortable and soothing …
"Let go of me! Let me go!" … "Animals!"
The voice sounded across the narrow passageway, between raspy breaths it came in sharp, screeching notes. It was followed by the sound of shackles being dragged across the floor, chain mail clicking against the walls as two guards dragged a body after them that was fighting them inch by inch.
It startled Guy, as if he had been woken up from a deep sleep, despite the fact that he had not slept in over 2 days.
"You'll pay for this! When Isabella gets back …"
Soon enough the guards passed his cell and he instinctively turned his head. Instead of the darkness he feared he would find he saw a girl. A small, scrap of a girl was causing all this havoc ...Her cheeks, burning, her hair aflame she yelled as the guards pushed her into the cell next to Guy.
She lashed at the cell bars and she screamed after them: "I'll make you pay for this, you …" she thought for a moment. What could she call them that was really bad? "You brutes!"
"That's telling them!" Guy thought and smiled, turning his attention to the ceiling. "It would really hurt if they only knew what the word meant …"
He could feel her stirring, shaking the bars. It was more noise then he had heard in over a week and it annoyed him that his silent tomb had been disturbed so forcefully by this silly girl.
He looked back towards her and found he could not look away. He became fascinated by the movement of her body. The space seemed animated all of a sudden. The same space that had seemed so dark and still just a few moments ago was so filled with life. He resented it.
"Men!" she said. "If I had my way they'd all disappear in a puff of smoke and the world would be a happier place!" She turned around, angrily and finally she caught him looking at her. "What are you staring at?" she asked.
Guy sighed and turned away. She was scared, he could tell and in desperate need to annoy someone.
"I know you! You're him, aren't you?" she asked, biting her lower lip and staring at him curiously. "Isabella's brother … She's a friend of mine …" she added quickly.
Guy could tell she was quite proud of it, as if knowing his sister had done anyone any good. "Not that close, obviously …" he answered laconically.
She was quick to jump to her defense. "Her nasty husband did this to me, clever!"
"Finally a bit of good news!" Guy thought remembering just how fond his sister was of her husband. "Thornton …" he said. "Is he here?" and laughed.
"She's terrified of him …" the girl said softly this time. The pity and concern were evident in her voice.
"Then she shouldn't have run off and left him, should she?"
"You always were a bit pleased with yourself!" she cut him off, bitterly making him turn his head and look at her. "I saw you once … The man in black on his black horse … The big 'I am' …" she said and looked down, as if ashamed of something. Her eyes turned soft and sad as she looked at him again. "Look at you now … dirty and miserable … and small!"
He clenched his jaw and said nothing. What did he care what this stupid girl thought of him?
"And now you're going to be executed."
There it was! He could feel the dread in the pit of his stomach and looked back at her quickly. How could this be? He had just thought the exact same thing only moments earlier and it had not unbalanced him in the least. Yet this girl managed to do it in the split of a second. Perhaps it was the way she said it … there was such finality and certainty in her voice. Or perhaps it was the way she looked at him … with contempt. He stared her down the best he could and spat at her: "By the looks of it you're not that far behind!"
Meg's mouth dried up instantly and she drew a quick, raspy breath. She had not thought of that. Thornton could indeed have her killed and Isabella ...poor Isabella could do nothing to prevent it]. She seemed lost for a moment but then she remembered whom to take it out on ...It was always the men! Men were to blame for everything! "I hope you go to hell!" she said and retreated to the opposite corner of the cell.
I'm already there …" he whipered and was unaware that Meg suddenly felt sorry for what she had just said to him..
***
Meg banged the shackles against the bars, then against each other, pulling at them, hitting them against the pavement. The sound of iron echoed against the walls. She saw him wince, as though it was almost more then he could bear. "Just leave it, will you!" he fumed.
"It hurts!" she whined.
"That's why they do it! Deal with it!"
That seemed to calm her down. She dropped her hands in her lap, exhausted. But she couldn't keep still. "I'm thirsty!"
"Well then save your breath and stop whining!" he said, aggravated.
This angered her. Here they were, in the dungeons, no water, no food and he was being impossible. The least he could do is try to be a little civil. After all, he had been here a long while. Even he must have been in want of company. "Nasty piece of work, aren't you! No wonder Isabella wants you dead!"
She wondered why though. Isabella seemed so nice, so kind and generous. How could someone like that want to kill her own brother? No matter how insufferable and cruel, he was still her family. And the way he was looking at her now … he had sad eyes … Despite herself, she was curious. She wanted to know more. "What did you do to her anyway?" she asked.
"Lord give me strength! It's almost worth dying to be spared your endless chatter!"
"Come on! You're here ...I'm here … What else are we going to do?" she said, softly this time.
He could tell that if he were to tell her to shut up now or if he would remain quiet, she would not say another word. She would turn away and the room would be silent once more. The thought sent a strange shiver through his body and he found himself answering. "I found her a husband. That's what I did." He looked away and added: "Good price too …" Why he said it he did not know. Perhaps he was tired of pretending, of always saying half the truth, of feeling ashamed. What was done was done! And what did he care about what this girl thought of him? He knew what she was going to say even before she opened her mouth.
"You sold her?!? Your own sister?"
"It was her best chance in life." he found himself explaining. "It's not my fault she went and made a mess of it."
"How could he be so cruel?" Meg thought. It was because he was a man. He did not know what women had to put up with when they married. That was why she would never marry! "Of course it is! All of it! You sold her to a monster!"
"You stupid girl!" Guy lashed out. What did she know about anything? They were as poor as dirt, starving, living off people's charity . He didn't want to live like that. He didn't want her living like that, either. "You know nothing about it!"
"I'm not a stupid girl!" she spat. Everyone called her that. Her father every time she refused a man's advances, her mother every time she upset her father. "Why can't you be like all the other girls?" they asked.
"I'm Meg!" she said and looked away, angry. "And I'm still thirsty …"
The whining had resumed and yet Guy didn't find it as aggravating any more. He could tell she had not been used to adversity. Something inside him urged him to protect her as it had once wanted to do with … "That stone around your neck" he said wryly. "Suck it. It will make your mouth water."
She looked at the stone curiously for a moment and then put it in her mouth. It seemed to settle her as she kept still and quiet for several blessed moments.
Guy sighed in relief and got up from the corner of the cell he had been sitting in. He lent against the wall, his gaze firmly planted on the small barred window high on the opposite wall. He heard the clicking of iron and the sound of steps and loud voices as guards walked through the large, interior yard of the castle. He wondered if they'd brought the executioner's block yet … He tried to imagine the scene as vividly as he could just so he could be ready. He'd witnessed it enough times to have a fairly accurate image of it, but now it would be different. For the first and last time in his life, death would be inflicted on him instead of him inflicting it on others.
The people hated him, he knew that well enough. They would be cheering when the axmen had taken his head and the last thing he would hear would be the shouts of hate from the same people that had not so long ago feared him.
He did not know how much time had passed or for how long she had been watching him before she spoked. "Are you scared?" she asked.
"What of?" he answered as if the thoughts that had plagued him just moments before had never existed.
"What of?" she repeated, ironically. "Your date with the executioner."
"Do I look scared?" No matter what happened he did not want to look scared. He would not give anyone the satisfaction.
"Actually, no." she said.
This surprised him, comforted him even and he looked back at her to see if she meant it.
"Terrible, yeah. 1 out of 10 for personal appearance." she taunted, smiling even if she knew it was not true. "But not frightened. I'm almost impressed!" She could tell that this gave him some small measure of peace.
She seemed to have captured his interest because he did not remove his eyes from her and turned to sit down next to the bars, closer to her. She didn't know why but it pleased her. The man in black on his black horse, the same one she had looked at more then once riding through Nottingham arrogant and menacing, the same one that would not have given her the time of day only a few days ago was now noticing her.
"It's as if you have a clear conscience …"
"Why shouldn't I have?" he asked, denying the reality as he had done for as long as he could remember. "Nothing is the matter! Nothing has happened." If he told himself that long enough then one day it would be true.
But reality would not be denied today because Meg would not let it be. She was there to call him on it as she had done once … "Because of all the awful things you've done in your life! I mean no one actually seems sorry you're on the way out, do they?" she said and suddenly she could feel just how sorry she was that it had to be so. Could no one actually care if this man lived or died? "Does that not make you sad?"
"I can't help what people think of me …" he finally said, almost choking up. He never could … "What's done is done … And if I am to die then so be it!" Was that not enough? Wouldn't his death be enough to pay for whatever people accused him of having done? There was no greater price to be paid then that … Or, in his case, any smaller …
"Is your life really that empty that you don't care whether you live or die?"
His face told her all the answers she wanted to know. She did not want to hear him say it … It would be too painful. Her mother had always told her to think before she spoke. This was the first time she wished she had listened to the advice.
Her stomach growled. With all the commotion of her father dragging her out of the house, the trial that morning, all the worrying and grief, she had forgotten that she had had nothing to eat in more then a day. There was no hope that the guards would bring them food.. This was not an inn, even she knew that.
Meg looked around her and spotted a piece of bread. She grabbed it quickly and started ripping at it when she suddenly saw maggots crawling out of it. It made her sick! She threw the piece of bread away in disgust and wiped her hands quickly. „I'm starving!"
Guy looked at the piece of bread for a moment and then calmly picked it up and started taking the maggots out one by one. "Never let food go to waste …" That was something he had learned when he was very young. When he was done, he reached out his hand through the bars and handed it to her. "Here …Keep your strength up."
He wondered if she would take it but she was quick to get up and come to him. „There must be some good in you yet!" she said hopefully and smiled warmly at him.
It was a gift that he could not allow himself to receive. That trust, that warm, beautiful smile she would have to save for someone else … someone who deserved it. "You don't know me."
She paid no attention to his words; they had fallen on deaf ears. She started eating the bread, as if it was the best thing she had tasted and stole quick glances at him.
"Besides …" he said, sheepishly, "I thought you hated men."
He had called her on it and she looked up, guilt stricken, as if she had just broken a life long vow. "I do …" she said unconvincingly. "I do …"
He gave a quick, unbelieving smile and continued to look at her. She really was such a silly, little girl.
Once she was done with the bread she threw the rotten shell to the ground and passed her hands over the folds of her dress. "You're wrong …" she said, finally looking at him. "I do know you …"
"Really?" he taunted.
"Yeah, really! You're not as bad as you think, you know. And I can tell you really are sad that no one cares if you're going to die. Why don't you just tell Isabella you're sorry? I'm sure she'll forgive you if you just say you're sorry!"
Guy smiled bitterly and looked at her. "You're such a child! You think that if you just say you're sorry everything is going to be alright again!"
"I'm not a child!" she shouted and got up quickly. "Stop calling me that!" She crossed the room and sat down in her corner with her arms folded. She pouted as if she were 5 years old.
Guy sighed and tried to explain. He got up and walked to the other side of the room to be next to her. "Sometimes saying you're sorry isn't enough" he said. "And I'm not sorry."
"Well, of course you are!" she said, looking back at him. "Look at you! You're half dead as it is. Skulking around in here, like some sad, black ghost."
Guy rolled his eyes and looked up in annoyance, "Lord, give me strength!"
"When Isabella comes, I'm going to say you're sorry for you!"
"You'll do no such thing!" Guy said, raising his voice.
The tone had no effect on Meg who seemed about to go on and finish what she had to say when a noise came from the stairs.. Someone was opening the door. They both fell silent and looked towards where the sound was coming from. Soon enough guards rushed in, followed by Isabella herself who ran towards Meg's cell. "Release her!" she ordered and pushed the door open herself.
"Isabella, you're back!" Meg cried out, happily. "Thank goodness!"
"Meg!" Isabella said as the guard unlocked Meg's chains. "I'm not so sure my brother would feel the same." Isabella looked at Guy for a mere moment, icy hate visible on her face. Guy took it in, as he always did, and gave her a similar look. "Come on!" Isabella urged, grabbing Meg by the hand.
Meg began walking, a little confused. She had expected Isabella to give her more time to speak what she had to say. She looked back at Guy who seemed concerned, no doubt because of what she was going to say. But she didn't care! If he wanted to die, she wouldn't let him! "Won't you release Guy too?"
Isabella stopped dead in her tracks and turned around to look at her. She grabbed hold of Meg's other arm and held it tight making the girl look at her. "Are you mad?" she asked. "He's our enemy! You see? Do you see how they manipulate us? A few hours in a cell with a cold hearted killer … " she said, looking back at her brother, "and even you lose your wits! That's the poison of men, Meg. None of them can be trusted."
Guy couldn't help but look at Meg, search her face to see if Isabella was getting to her, if she believed her. Only minutes ago he had told her that he was not good but he did not want her to think of him as a "cold hearted killer".
"My brother will get exactly what he deserves." Isabella concluded. "Now come on." She began walking, dragging Meg after her.
Guy could tell Meg wanted to protest but finally said nothing. She gave him one last look almost as if she was apologizing and then she was gone. He dropped his eyes to the floor and heard the door slam shut.
Within seconds all was quiet again. Just as it was before she had come. There was silence … deafening, suffocating silence …
He looked to his right into the next cell and it was empty. No movement, no sound … Nothing seemed touched or altered, just a piece of bread emptied of its core was left as memory that someone had been in there once. Guy exhaled deeply and dropped his head against the wall. For the first time in over a year he wanted to cry. He had been consumed by so much rage and thoughts of revenge that he had not thought of crying and now that he wanted to … needed to ...the tears did not come.
How did he get here? He was alone … completely alone. Moments ago a girl had been in there with him, vibrant and alive, standing by his side and then in a second she was gone ...taken away … She disappeared. And it was not the first time it had happened …
Guy shook his head and banged it against the wall. He closed his eyes. There was no choice and no avoiding it. Tonight, no matter how much he resisted, he would have to think about it.
Once again he found himself amidst the scorching desert. He could remember the heat, the sticky sweat and dirt plastered to his skin, the hot waves of air slamming against his face again and again … and Marian standing in front of him. Her white dress almost glowed against the yellow ground, making his eyes hurt as he walked closer to her. Then as she began talking everything turned darker and darker as a cold sweat ran over his back and into his hands … cold, black rage … And then Marian was laid at his feet …
He replayed the image in his head many times over trying to understand how he had been able to do that. He knew why … it was her words. He had to make those words go away but what was that part of him that made him push the blade in? Was he not the same man that had promised to protect her? Had he not faced the wrath of the Sheriff for her?
Or had Marian died because she could not and would not love him? The thought pained him but it was true. She never wanted to love him. He could not understand now how he ever thought she did … Marian was good. There was no questioning in her, no choice … she was good to the core. And someone like that could never love someone as rotten as him. It was an impossibility.
She made him better, not because she loved him but because she could not help but touch those around her. She made it possible for him to live with himself but now she was gone … Marian was dead and for once he could not blame anyone else for her death: not Robin ...not the Sheriff ...He was to blame. He had killed Marian.
"I'm so sorry, Marian!" he said. "I'm so very sorry …"
***
Meg walked through the hallways holding the tray of food and crying. She pulled on her sleeve from time to time to wipe the tears. She was going to kill him! She was really going to kill him!
Isabella's words in front of Guy's cell had left Meg speechless. She could not bring herself to say how sorry Guy was for what he had done but soon she rallied. She tried speaking of it during dinner when Isabella had invited her to eat in the main hall but soon gave up on the idea. She understood Isabella's true nature. Her intentions were not altogether bad but her heart was cold, full of hate. She did not trust anyone and she wanted blood … Guy's blood.
The thought made her shiver. She had gone off to bed crying and she had woken up just the same. She had to see him! Even if it was only to say good-bye.
She conjured up the few scraps of food she could find in the kitchens before anyone woke up and ran towards the cells. She went down the stairs and soon found herself in front of his cell. He was sitting on his knees, his head down. He looked broken. Nothing of his earlier rage and disdain remained. She swallowed back her tears and put the tray down.
He looked up at her. He did not think she would come but he was happy that she did. "Thank you … but no."
"You must eat." she begged. "For … for me …" she said and felt like a fool. As if she mattered enough to pull him out of this state. "It's the least that I can do …" she managed to add before starting to cry again.
"You've done more then enough."
"I haven't done anything …" She had been a coward. She should have spoken to Isabella. She should have …
"You have." he told her, calmly. "You've made me think."
"About what?"
"About … someone I used to know …" he finally said. Speaking of Marian did not come easily but he had to do it because Meg was so much like her. "She saw good were there was none. She made me a better man."
Meg knew he must have loved someone once. She wondered what she was like and why she was not with him now. "What happened?" she asked.
"I destroyed her." There it was! Finally he had said it. Finally he understood it. "I destroy everything." he said and started to cry.
Meg wanted to comfort him, to reach out and touch him but she didn't know how. She didn't know what to say or do. She just knew she could not let him die. She would not.
"Go on." he urged. He could not bear to have her look at him like that. He saw her getting up and leaving and this time he knew for sure she would not come back. He had told her the whole, horrible truth and he knew that he had taken a bit of her trust and hope with it. But perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps it would help her protect herself from people who wouldn't be able to help themselves from hurting her. If there was something he wanted to ensure before he died, it was that Meg would be safe.
***
Meg ran through the corridor quickly, holding the keys tightly in her hand. Her heart was racing and her cheeks were flushed. How she had done it, she did not know. It had been a sheer stroke of luck that she had been able to keep her wits about her when her hands were trembling as they were.
She came racing towards the cell and started opening it as Guy looked at her in surprise.
"Meg?" he asked. "What are you doing?"
As she started unlocking his shackles she looked at him and smiled broadly. "I can't let her kill you! I just can't!"
Guy could not believe it. His hand trembled as he threw the shackles to the ground. She had come back. "You'd do this for me?" he asked.
He got up quickly and held her arm in his hand. Such a small, soft arm … She looked up at him and smiled as he brought his hand up and caressed her face. No hesitation, no sign of discomfort on her face. "Thank you!" he said.
Had the moment ended quicker, had they not been so lost in each other's eyes, in the prospects of what was to come, they might have been safe.
As it was, they both froze in place as they heard Isabella's voice. "Oh, this is touching!"
Guy clenched his jaw and pushed Meg towards the stairs. "Go!" he shouted and started running.
Isabella was quicker and she grabbed hold of Meg as the guards placed their swords next to Guy's neck. "She didn't know what she was doing!" Guy shouted, desperately.
"Yes, she did!" Isabella said. "How could you? I set you free and this is how you repay me?" she asked, looking at Meg.
"We're not the same!" Meg said. "I try to do things out of love. You're doing this out of hate!"
"How dare you!" Isabella shouted, scaring Meg into silence. "I suppose I should be grateful. Now I know the only person I can trust is myself." She pushed Meg towards the guards who were quick to grab her. "I'm on my own!"
"You put yourself there, Isabella!" Meg said.
"I can say the same for you!" Isabella looked at her and then back at her brother. She could tell how scared Guy was … Scared but not for himself … He was scared for the girl! "And if you two love birds want to be together, that's fine. You shall. You'll both die!"
***
She sat in the cell, her head rested on the side, holding on to the bars tightly. She made no sound and she stared ahead with no aim in sight. From time to time she sniffed as a tear fell on her cheek.
Guy sat next to her, willing himself to say something. There was none of her braveness or her liveliness now. She was so scared she could not move or speak. This was all his fault! He shouldn't have allowed her to open the cell. He should have sent her away the moment she …
"Stop it!" she finally said. "I'm not sorry, you know! I'd do the same again!"
"How can you say that?" he asked. "You must learn to …"
Guy was interrupted by her sad laugh. "There's no more time to learn," she said and it was almost enough to make his heart break. "It's time to rest."
She brought her hand up to wipe away a stray tear and breathed deeply. "Do you think hell is as bad as they say? … Boiling cauldrons filled with people as far as the eye can see, people say … Demons eating at you eyes and heart …"
Guy put his hand on her hand forcefully, making her look at him. "There's no reason for you to think about that!"
"But there is, you see … I disobeyed my father. That's a sin … I disobeyed my father and I'm not sorry." She started to cry. "The first time he wanted to marry me off was 2 years ago. I was 15. He brought the man home. He had been an ironsmith in the village as long as I could remember. He was 45, a widow and had three children almost as old as me. He took my hand in his and wanted to kiss me. I pushed him away and started running. I ran so fast and for so long … as If I was running from death. I was sure that I would die if I was to marry him …And now I'm going to die anyway. I'll die and I'm going to hell!"
"You're not going to hell!" Guy said, definitely. "You're going to heaven. Even someone as rotten as me can see that."
Meg smiled softly and put her other hand on top of his. "You're not rotten …"
Guy wanted to answer but then the guards came rushing in. They opened the doors and dragged them out, making them let go of each other's hand.
They pushed them outside, into the light as they began to stumble and walk through the crowd of people. "I'm scared," she said, trembling. It all had been so fast! Too fast!
He could not think of anything else that would give her comfort but: "When it comes, it will be very quick …" and then he began walking towards the block.
Was that good? Was quick good? She didn't know. As they pushed her onwards she couldn't settle it in her mind. Quick meant less pain … less suffering … less terror … but quick also meant less …
At last they both stood in front of the block. Meg stole quick glances to her left where the executioner eyed her curiously. To her right, Guy stood tall and calm. But was he calm? She could not tell. She looked around and could see all the people's face filled with hate. She knew it was directed at Guy but somehow they seemed to be looking at her too, as if they didn't even remember cheering for her just a day ago.
"As you all know from bitter experience …" Isabella's voice could be heard from somewhere above them. "Guy of Gisborne is an enemy of the people. He must pay the ultimate penalty. This woman …" she continued, pointing at Meg's trembling frame trying to enrage the people against her, "tried to help him escape justice. Therefore, she must share his fate."
She could not hear any more after that. It all became a bit of a blur as a loud thudding noise pulsated in her ears and she tried to keep her teeth from rattling along with the rest of her. She wondered if her father was watching this. Would he miss her or would he be relieved that she would not shame him any more?
"Very well, Isabella," Guy's voice broke through and she turned her head towards him. "You win. Kill me if you must, but not her!" he begged. "I'll do whatever you want but don't take her life."
Isabella seemed to think it over for a moment, as if she had doubts but then her eyes hardened on him and she gave the final order: "Proceed with the execution."
The guards grabbed hold of her and pushed her down. She was startled and screamed. She could not help the sounds that were escaping her. She wished she could. She trembled like a leaf and cried.
"She's just a little girl!" Guy shouted as the guards pushed him down as well. She was just 17! She was so young! She had not seen anything. She had not done anything. She had not had any time to make mistakes. Her life was ahead of her, unblemished, perfect … and now it was going to end! It wasn't fair!
All Guy could hear after that was her crying and he knew there was nothing he could do to comfort her. He could see the axemen standing right behind her. She would be the first to die. He would have to watch her die, see her blood rushing over the floor underneath him. The last thing he would see would be her empty eyes as the axemen would hold up her head. The image sent him into a state of shock and it took a flying axe landing inches away from his face to make him jump up.
He could hear Isabella crying out: "Robin Hood!" and it was the first time he was happy to hear that name. He stood up quickly and began untying Meg who was smiling from ear to ear.
There was a lot of commotion in the yard, the crowd running back and forth causing noise and confusion. Enough to help them escape. He turned his back once he had come down the stairs to help her down and then he heard her cry:
"Look out, Guy!" she said and pushed him away. "Guy, no!" she said as the pike run her through.
And then there was silence again.
As Guy hit the man unconscious, he could not hear any more noises or see anyone but Meg falling against the stairs and blood starting to run from behind her hand. "Are you all right?" he asked and picked her up in his arms. All around him was getting darker. Everything was wrong. So very wrong.
***
He did not know how far he had gone. He just kept on walking. As long as he walked, she would be alright. As long as he walked, she would be alive. But soon dusk turned into night and they had to stop. They had come upon a clearing, next to a lake and it seemed safe enough to stop there. It was time to rest.
"Let's just rest here for a while," he said, out of breath. "There we go …" He laid her down against a tree and held her in his arms.
He looked down and softly removed her hand to look at the wound. Her blood had run all over the left side of his chest and leg, and he knew.
"Kiss me …" she whispered and it startled him. He looked up and smiled softly. He caressed her face and shook his head … He knew why she was asking. She thought she was going to die. This was going to be her first and last kiss. But he couldn't bring himself to do it because she deserved better …
"Please!" she begged and this time he could not say no. He leaned down and gently brushed his lips against hers, breathing in the scent of her. In that moment he knew it wouldn't be enough … He wanted more … but there was no more. This was all that he would ever have of her.
She smiled contented and forced herself to speak: "I … always quite liked you, … you know." Her vision became blurry and it darkened. The last thing she saw was him smiling at her … It wasn't enough …
A rush of wind ran through the grass and the lake stirred for a moment. He knew in that instant that she was dead. He could feel her slipping from him … the almost undetectable hand of death. He closed her eyes and held her tightly.
She was just a little girl but that girl had brought life where there was none. She had seen inside the darkness of his soul and still wanted to save him. She had thought him worthy of redemption even if he knew for certain that he was not … And now she was dead …
She was dead because everything he touched turned to dust. She had run through his fingers like soft, scorching ash. Could he see the irony in her death? The painful, perfect symmetry of it?
For now he just cried … He cried because he was alone again. He cried because she was so young. He cried because she was Meg.