Okay first thing first. Sorry it's taken a while to update I was on holiday and couldn't access a computer, however, I did mange to complete the second and third chapters, and started work on the fourth.
Before we start, I best warn you I did not see the last episode of season two so if any of the details are wrong or sketchy I apologise.


Eleanor retreated to Marian's room. She had always loved the view from this room; it caught the sunset so beautifully so that the whole room would fill with a celestial pink glow. Strangely, Eleanor felt a twinge of grief at the loss of her sister. She paused for a moment sitting on the window ledge and silently paid her respects.
The scent of damp drifted in the air showing the first sign of rain.
'Ah yes, it's good to be home'


Meanwhile in Sherwood Forest, Robin and his outlaws were still recovering from their stint in the Holy Land. Will and Djaq had remained in the Holy Land leaving Robin, Much, Little John and Allan to pick up the pieces.
Marian's death had affected them all, Robin the most; now he did little but lie and dream of Marian while slowly plotting Gisborne's demise. Since their return sleep Robin had barely slept, neglected to shave or wash and had hardly eaten. He had grown thin, trapped inside his own mind haunted by visions of Marian dying in his arms.
"Master, I've made a stew..." Much said holding a spoonful of the hot broth to Robin's nose hoping to stir some reaction. He felt John's hand clasp his shoulder.
"Leave him be" John spoke softly, his voice tinged with concern. He led Much away and sat down by the fire, Much pushed his stew around the bowl with his spoon while Allan finished off his second helping.
"Not being funny or anything..."
"Allan." John interrupted
"Hm?"
"Shut up."

Robin could hear the argument beginning to brew and even though his friends were sitting a few feet away he felt as though they were in separate worlds. Cautiously he got to his feet, his legs numb from lying for so long. Step by shaky step Robin pulled himself to his men.
"Master!" Much leapt to his feet at the sight of his master finally out of bed. Quickly he grabbed a bowl and ladled in spoonfuls of food. He held it out for Robin but he continued past his men as though they weren't even there.
Robin's stumbled turned to walk, walk to run. The trees and bushes flashed past Robin's eyes in a blur, the only sounds he was aware of were his breath, his heartbeat pounding in his head and the two words playing over and over like a torturous mantra.

'Marian... Knighton... Marian... Knighton'

Robin hid in the shadow of the bushes and watched on as Sir Guy and his men rode past. His grip on his sword tightened, the burning rage in his heart demanded that he should kill Gisborne. He quickly counted the men; seven, eight against one, an unfair advantage but what did it matter Robin had little left to live for and as long as he was able to drive his sword through Gisborne's heart, he'd die a happy man.

And then he saw her.

She stood leaning against the doorframe of Knighton Hall watching as Gisborne left. The same delicate feminine physique and glossy brown hair. Robin's breath drew short as she watched, amazed by her. He thought himself mad. He had been there, held her in his arms and listened to her final breath, she couldn't be here, Marian was dead.
She soon turned and went inside; Robin inched closer to the house. He had to know who this mysterious woman was; maybe Marian hadn't died, maybe by some miracle she had been bought back to him.
As Robin approached the door movement in Marian's bedroom window caught his eye. She sat there now, bathing in the warm glow of the dying sun that would soon disappear under the horizon. She, whoever she may be, was totally oblivious to Robin's presence allowing him to observe her. Much to his disappointment she wasn't Marian yet something was familiar about her, not just the resemblance but something else, something lost deep in the past. Suddenly she vanished; worried the he may have been seen Robin hid in shadows.

Back inside Marian's room Eleanor opened the doors of Marian's closet. Unfortunately her own clothes were yet to be unpacked, making her grateful that she and Marian had always been similar dress sizes. She picked out a blue dress and quickly changed from her travelling clothes; the dress felt like silk after so many days of wearing coarse linen, Eleanor felt like herself again and less like the dirt clod pilgrim.
She brushed her hair through with a shell comb she had watched Marian use countless times in their youth. Nothing seemed to have changed since all those years ago; it was still the same house, the furniture and draperies were the same, even some of the servants were those who had served Eleanor's family even if there were a few more lines on their foreheads. She listened to the servants hustle about the house like little ants and she was their Queen then admits the chaos came the sound the sound of the horses outside.
Eleanor had raised a pony in her final year at Knighton; Lupus, he would have grown into a fine stallion by now. She rushed down the stairs, out the door of her home and to the stables. Her father had promised to keep him, could he have kept his promise after all these years she wondered. However, as she entered the stable she was disappointed when she could not see his perfect grey coat. Inside she could feel her blood boiling to the point of bursting. In a spur moment of rage Eleanor balled her fist and punched a sizable dent in the rotten wood. The noise startled something in the shadows; a beautiful black horse stepped into the light with eyes like lightning.
It was most likely a gift from Sir Guy to Marian, perhaps he would be grateful for its return. Eleanor examined the horse; the hind legs looked powerful no doubt this was a military horse born and bred to run. She saddled the horse, during which it remained perfectly still another clue to its military rearing. Having its spirit completely broken was a military practice to make the horse ride able in battle, but such a pity since a beast with fire in its belly is so much more fun.
A twig snapped behind Eleanor. She maintained her composure while slowly reaching for the pitchfork that stood a few inches away. Another twig broke this time closer to Eleanor; she now had a firm grip on the pitchfork and spun on the spot ready to face any would-be assassin. Nothing greeted her sight except an empty stable but there, she saw something besides horses lurking in the shadows.
Eleanor set the pitchfork down as the shape emerged from the light revealing itself to a man; a man Eleanor had never took to liking because of his ever optimistic attitude.
"Locksley" She sighed. Her eyes quickly danced over his dishevelled look; the unshaven face, ragged clothes and the smell that should have give him away for a five mile radius.
"A little worse for wear aren't we?" She teased turning back to her horse. Robin allowed her rudeness to wash over him because with every taunt he knew she was not Marian. Not Marian. Should he welcome that fact? The final hope dashed before his eyes, for a moment Robin felt the hollow sting of loneliness but he couldn't alow it to control him any longer. For weeks since their return it had controlled him and for what? No doubt the Sheriff and the Black Knights were already scheming.

Robin Hood needed to return.

"Well, when I left home it was of my own accord…Ele" Robin smirked, already he could see her face twitch with annoyance, she had always taken teasing far too personally.
"It's Eleanor" She snapped
"Take it you didn't marry my sister then? Not surprised with you looking like a beggar" Eleanor had overstepped the mark, she could see the hurt in his eyes when she turned back to face him. A part of her wanted to take pride in leaving Locksley speechless but something told her that Marian's death had more implications then simple mourning and burial.
"How did she die?" Eleanor was loathed to ask but the inquisitive side of her nature demanded it.
"You know she's.."
Eleanor nodded in response
"She was killed in the Holy Land…By Sir Guy." Robin's voice trailed off almost into a quiver on the verge of becoming a sob. Silently Eleanor mused over this information, it would account for Gisborne's detachment when she met him earlier but it wasn't enough. Eleanor climbed atop the horse.
"Where are you going?"
"Nottingham of course" Eleanor willed the horse forward but when she reached the stable entrance she slowed the horse and called back to Robin.
"Oh Robin, before we meet again. Bathe" At that Eleanor kicked her heels and the creature set of at a terrific speed, soon there was nothing ahead of them but open road and Nottingham castle gradually revealing itself on the horizon.


So Ele's in Nottingham, what will happen next?

You'll find out in a week :D