I am not Marian! Part 1

By Leah

Summary

Pretty AU. Marian dies after her disastrous stint as "The Nightwatchman" in the season 1 ep "The return of the king"

Months later, her newly widowed cousin comes to Knighton to look after Sir Edward.

Rated PG to M for rape and character death and rape, animal abuse and sexual content.

On Dreamer Fiction, it is PG to M to R.

After seeing season 2, Australia got the DVD first! Here's hoping we get season 3 on DVD first as well, I decided to make some changes.

I am not following the whole season two plot line, nor the one for season 3 for I wish to keep to most my original ideas that were conceived before the start of series 2.

However, there will be Gullan! Why? Guy and Allan are simply meant to be.

Sadly, no slash :( Not for Gullan anyway.

Just a pre-warnig. This story is rather explicit. It contains mentions of rape, mentioned but not I'm not going to provide a scene. Strong violance. And lots of sexual content which I shall do my best to keep to a "M" rating. You will be able to find the much, much more explicit versions on Dreamer Fiction and A clue. No!

There will also be a lot of references to "The Vicar of Dibley" This piece of fan fic will pretty much be a VOD/RH crossover. In addition, Bernard Cornwell's fantastic "Alfred/Ultred" series and finally, Winston Graeme's "Poldark" A book and TV saga very, very close to my heart.

I would like to dedicate this renewed chappie to my BETAS who have been here since the beginning of this story, they are my rocks!

Also to my dear friends at my Guy & Marian forum, "Stirred" your naughty messages never fail to make me giggle/

Disclaimer

I do not own a bloody thing! I am merely borrowing then putting them back with a big "THANK YOU.

Now let us get on with it, shall we?

Mini Prologue

A cave somewhere in Sherwood Forest

"Protect Guy, Robin."

"Marian the man is a monster," the light haired outlaw protested. "He cannot be allowed to-"

"There is more humanity in Sir Guy of Gisborne then there is in the Sheriff!" Marian cut off. "Sway him to your way of thinking then the two of you can restore England together. Robin … I beg you, save him. There is a good man hidden in that darkness. I've seen him! I know he's there! I know-"

"Shhh."

"Promise me!"

The young man looked to Djaq who sat nearby, sadly wringing a cloth in her hands.

"Do it," the pretty Saracen mouthed at him.

Hood squeezed his eyes shut, trying to blot out the pain. When he eventually opened them, his former intended was staring up at him waiting for his answer.

"Alright," he sighed. "I promise … I will do what you ask of me."

Marian's features relaxed.

"Thank you," she murmured. 'Oh Jesu, thank you, Robin!'

"Marian … did you ever love him?" Hood asked, "Did you ever love me?"

"Oh-"

"Please. Tell me. I need to know."

There was a lengthy pause.

"I think was in love with you both," she sighed at last.

Robin of Sherwood, nee Locksley, said no more. He remained beside the lady of Knighton Hall, stroking her hair, waiting for her to die.

Sometime later

Robin buried his head into Marian's chest, sobbing hard.

"We have to go now!" Little John said to Much and Djaq.

"Let him grieve," Djaq insisted.

"He can grieve when we're out of this cave," John growled. "You heard what that Pitts said. We have to go!"

"And the body-I mean, Marian?" Much asked, twisting his sweet little hat in his hands. "What do we do with her?"

"There is nothing we can do," Djaq replied. "She won't mind us leaving her behind."

End of mini prologue


Nottingham, the great hall. Some months after Marian's death.

Sir Guy Crispin of Gisborne looked on dispassionately whilst sheriff Vasey drolled on and on about taxes and of course, Robin Hood.

"Couldn't you be a little more interesting?" Guy thought bowing his head to stare at his boots.

A clue. No.

If only she were here. Guy thought bitterly. If only she had not died.

If she were here, she and Vasey would be arguing about the poor. If she were here, they would have been married, perhaps even expecting their first child.

However, she was not here. She was dead.

"Go home, Gisborne. A pitiful mule like you sticks out like a sore thumb in here," Vasey grumbled reaching for a quill.

"My lord," Guy muttered. With his head bowed, he left the hall.

"Sir Edward and Lady Genevieve of Knighton!"

With some curiosity, the guard looked up to see who this "Lady Genevieve" was.

Vasey was about to ask the guard a question when he noticed the younger mans odd state. He seemed to be fixated upon something, his mouth hanging open in profound surprise.

"Eh!" Vasey reprimanded in a furious whisper, poking the man hard in the ribs. "What the devil's gotten into you? Close your mouth! What are you-oh!"

Locksley Manor

My dear Gisborne.

Thought you'd have some fun with this little puppy. He goes by the name of Allan and squeals when you give him a bit of cock in bum.

His companion, sadly, has carked it. Apparently I was too much for him to handle.

Anyway.

You are expected back at the castle the day after tomorrow. All that time off should be ample for you to fix the ugly mug you've been shoving in my face for the last month.

Have fun.

Vasey.


Guy sniffed and rolled up the scroll of parchment, tossing it carelessly over his shoulder.

"So," he rumbled at a dirty semi naked man kneeling, not by choice, before him. "What am I going to do with you?"

The man said nothing.

"Did the sheriff have your tongue so he could have it for dinner, earsling?" he snarled, "I asked you a question!"

"No," the man replied softly. "He didn't take my tongue."

"So you can talk? I'll start again. Tell me what am I going to do with you?"

There was a long bout of silence.

"You could take me on."

Gisborne gave a harsh bark of laughter.

"You? As what? A servant?" He laughed again, blue/grey eyes shining with ill humour. "Sorry, Clapa, I don't think so."

"Not as a servant. Your right hand man." The prisoner offered.

The quick bark of laughter that had passed through Gisborne's lips earlier was nothing compared to the hearty roar that followed.

"As my squire!" Guy chuckled softly when recovered. "You'd serve better as my jester!"

"Look. I'm tired of being nothing!" the captive snapped abruptly. "I'm tired of having nothing! I want to … I want to be a lord. I want more women then my cock could cope with. Lands! Money!"

The prisoner made an awkward attempt to get to his feet but a guard kicked him hard in the back thus causing him to fall down.

Gisborne raised an eyebrow at the guard then returned his gaze to Allan who was grimacing in pain.

"Speaking of cocks," he mumbled. Lazily Guy took off his boots and belt, kicking the objects into a far corner. After that, he removed his breeches.

Allan looked to the guards who had warily backed off. Realising that the situation had grown from bad to considerably worse, he worried his lower lip anxiously.

'Jesu, I hope he isn't a Sodomite," he thought.

Kicking his black braes into a corner, Guy took hold of his member, smirking.

"Well, congratulations," he told Allan. "I "have" got a job for you."

Smirking with cruel pleasure, the dark haired man pissed an almost neat circle around Allan. Once finished, he gave a large yawn, letting go of his relieved member.

"Clean that up," he told Allan, stooping to pick up his fallen clothes.

"With what?" the younger man asked.

"Use your imagination," was the bored reply.

"Hang on, I was hoping for food and-"

"Clean that up or I'll make you lap it up, Clapa!" Guy snapped irritably. "You can stuff your face as soon as you've proven your worth."

As soon as his back was turned, Allan grumbled.

"He can't call me, Clapa, I'm not flippin clumsy."

Nostril's flaring; Guy whirled around. Storming over to where Allan knelt. Grabbing the startled man by the scruff of his neck, Guy drew him up till they were nose to nose.

"I'll call you Sally if it pleases me!" he snarled.


After finishing with Gisborne's mess, Allan was sent to the stables.

"There's a blue roan filly with a cut on her shoulder that needs tending to. Can you do that?" Peter, the stable lad asked.

"Yeah," Allan replied.

"After that you can feed Sir Guy's horse, be careful though, he bites."

Allan rolled his eyes.

"Won't be a problem," he replied casually. "I'm good with horses."

"That's what the last lad said. Near took is arm off, Chaos did!" Peter laughed at the memory thus causing Allan to worry. "That devil tolerates me coz I'd be right careful with im. Only people he'd be wanting to please be the master and …" The youth stopped and sighed sadly.

"I'm guessing you're talking about Lady Marian?" Allan asked, reaching for a washcloth.

"Aye. She was a good girl. Turned Chaos into a right little lamb the moment he first saw her." The boy wetted his lips with his tongue. "I can't believe she broke her neck riding in the forest. Too good a rider she was." He shrugged, adding bitterly. "But that's what they say. I'm not going to question them."

Allan said nothing. Better to keep his snozzer out of it rather give Gisborne a chance to send him back to horny Vasey.

"Show me where the filly is?" he asked, not wanting Gisborne to catch him bulging.


Allan was nearly finished cleaning out the blue roan filly's wound when he heard raised voices and the terrified cries of a horse. Leaving the loose box, he rushed to where the noise was coming from.

He had only just darted around a corner when he came upon the stable lad and a frightfully aggressive, possibly drunk, giant of a man.

He was as tall as little John, but a great deal rounder, with white hair and a greying ginger beard.

"Fucking hell, Ian!" Peter cried. "You know what the master will do if he catches ya anywhere near this horse in the state your in!"

"He'd be too busy with his own sodding problems to worry bout this nag!" Ian bellowed back.

The stable lad grunted. Trying with all his might to pull the older, heavier man away.

"It's not a nag! It's a four year old gelding, ya useless tool!" he protested. "Now get away before someone finds ya here. Go on!"

"Something the matter here, fellas?" Allan asked jovially.

Peter shook his head vigorously. "Nothing, fixed the filly?"

"Who is this?" Ian spat before Allan could give an answer.

"Allan, the master's new man," the stable lad replied, giving Allan an anxious look.

"Master's man, eh?" Ian sneered. "You stink, Allan, Where ya been?"

"That's my business," Allan replied coolly. "Now why don't you leave the horse? Go and sober up?"

Ian let out a bark of laughter.

"This horse," he sneered, grabbing the bay by the nose, squeezing so hard the poor equine screeched in pain. "Will fetch me a fair profit at the market! It's the horse that bucked the lady Marian off last month!"

"This horse belongs to Sir Guy," the stable lad insisted. "You want to sell it; you talk it over with him. He's right behind you."

"Yeah right. And I've got a fanny instead of a cock!" Ian scoffed cruelly.

"He's not being funny mate, Gisborne's right behind you," Allan quipped.

The colour from Ian's face slowly disappeared till it became a dirty white. The big man turned around, coming face to face with Gisborne.

"On … you're … knees," Guy commanded in a blood chilling tone.

Ian readily obeyed, trembling visibly with fear.

Ian had seen Sir Guy in action many times and he knew that if he lived to see another day he would be most fortunate.

All was quite for a time till, without any warning what so ever, Guy grabbed Ian by the scruff of the neck, ramming his face into the floor.

"Don't you ever, ever let me set my eyes on you again!" he bellowed, starting the horses.

The man uttered a low moan and Gisborne's lips peeled back in a wolf like fashion before he savagely smashed Ian's face back onto the floor once, twice, three more times till Ian's face was a bloody pulp, his mouth devoid of most of his teeth.

Once satisfied, Guy got to his feet, stepping away from Ian's unconscious body, panting heavily. He looked to Allan and noticed how relaxed the horse seemed in the outlaw's presence despite the terrible ordeal it had gone through.

"Prove your loyalty and you can keep the palfrey," he told Allan wearily. "If I find that you are a reflection of this bastard," he kicked Ian hard in the middle of the back. "You can expect the same treatment and then some."

Allan licked his lips. The "And then some" meant death. No doubt about it.

"I won't let you down," he croaked.

Guy rolled his eyes.

"We'll see," he muttered. He turned to Peter. "Get rid of him," he ordered, pointing at Ian. "I want him gone before sunset."

Without another word, Guy strode of the stables, leaving Allan staring at his departing back.

That night, Allan could not sleep. Therefore, he lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling of the servant's quarters remembering just how he had gotten into this sorry mess.

Flash back, Sherwood Forest

"Will, you right?" Allan asked from his cage.

"Fine," the dark haired outlaw replied, eyes darting here and there, searching for a chance to escape.

"You're gonna hang ya pack of turds!" one of Vasey's men taunted. "Pretty Hoods too busy trying to save his own hide to come back for the likes of ya!"

"Fuck off!" Allan growled.

"Mind ya tongue ya filthy pillock!" sneered the bully's companion! "Or I'll smash that giant snozzer of yours!"

'Oi!"

The four men swung around to see Sir Guy of Gisborne riding toward them.

"You can play with the prisoners later," the master at arms growled, dismounting his brown rouncy stallion. "I need you and four others to come with me."

"Yes milord," the man replied uneasily eying the aggressive looking stallion. "Where are we going?"

"Into the cave. I want to see if they left anything behind. If they have you carry it back to Locksley."

Handing the reins of his mount to a braver guard, Gisborne stalked off in the direction of the cave entrance, leaving Allan and Will alone.

The outlaws were whispering to each other when there was a noise so horrific they thought it inhuman.

"What the devil?" Vasey exclaimed, steadying his grey palfrey.

Gisborne appeared. He was staggering out of the cave, sobbing uncontrollably.

In his arms was Marian. She was dead. Very dead indeed.

"Oh what a shame," Vasey sneered after getting over his bamboozlement. "Oh well, off we go! Back to the castle!" He peered into the cage, grinning most unctuously at Will and Allan.

"Oh …" he purred. "I know exactly what I'm going to do with you two."

End of part 1

Authors note

Just a few things I should like to share with you.

1- I do not believe in Mary or Gary Sues. If you want to that is fine. However, I do not and never will.

2-I like to use bold. It is part of my writing style, something I enjoy using in my stories.

3-The prologue is on the 1st chapter because it is quite short and I felt like keeping it there rather then keeping it separate. I am quite aware that this is not necessarily the done thing, however I do not write for money, I write for my own happiness so I believe it should not matter where your prologue is situated.

4-I am writing in Australian grammar. Under the advisement of my BETA, I am also trying to write in UK grammar as well. So if you feel confused at all. It is because I am trying to get into the habit of writing in UK grammar.

A little glossary.

These words are borrowed from Mr Bernard Cornwell's divine Alfred series. I am borrowing them because they seem appropriate words for certain characters.

"Clapa"-Clumsy.

"Earsling" Turd/pooh

Other words. Some of these are Aussisms and Pommyisims/Britisims.

Tool-Idiot

Snozzer-Nose

Bludging-to be lazy

Sodomite-A gay man

.