Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. Original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. Not beta read, don't shoot.
A/N: I wrote this ficlet after watching Episode 6, of Season 2, which was screened last night here in Australia! My first Robin Hood attempt... dear me, I am wandering off my regular fangirlish path today! Anyway, as those of you who've seen it will know, a certain Winchester is after Lady Marian, and Guy is stuck in the middle with a tough call to make. This is just me playing around in his head, hypothetically like.
If She Were Mine
He looks at her, watches as they take her away. She has that angry, protesting, begging look on her face.
How does she do it, all at once like that?
How can you stand there and ask yourself that, and just let it happen? Marian – not Marian – she's not a pawn.
You've used her as a pawn.
Shut up. She uses herself as a pawn. She plays games, can't you see it, she dances us all to a merry little tune as she weaves circles around us.
He watches as they take her. She's struggling but the guards are immovable. They just don't care.
Call yourself a man, do you?
More man than you, made fool of by a woman.
All men are fools for women.
All men once, maybe, but you, oh no, you're more than a fool, because she does it to you repeatedly, and you let her. You positively welcome it.
She's calling for him to help her. The anger bubbles in him, pent up, enclosed by the coverings of his black leather.
What does Winchester want with her anyway, that old man? To demand Sussex and Marian… A whim? What could he—
What could he want? Are you trying to be funny? What does everyone want with her, then? What do you want with her?
I'm different.
No, you're not.
I am.
How?
I—
See? You can't even say it. If you can't say it, you don't feel it.
I never mentioned feelings.
He watches as she passes out of sight. The noise of her voice echoes through the corridor. He moves to follow them and wonders why he bothers.
You've betrayed her. You've betrayed yourself. If you'd let her go, stood up for her, been her accomplice… don't you see? Let her go and protect her father and she would be yours. Her freedom and her family, does she ask so very much?
She does. She asks too much.
Too much? Is there such a thing, for the woman you love?
Love? Who said anything about love? She's just a woman.
Just a—? Shut up.
If she were yours, you wouldn't have let it happen.
If she were mine…
He closes his eyes for a second, then walks in the direction they have taken, and the rage burns black, caught, helpless, trapped by himself.
