Title: Society is Built on Marriage and its Consequences.

Author: albaKonst

Summary: A description of the scene in Series 1 Episode 7 in which Guy confronts Marian about the necklace and therefore her betrayal. Script taken from the TV series. Made up during scene changes.

Rating: T (for language)

The door flies open and Marian bursts in, in a somewhat unladylike manner. "Sir Guy!" she exclaims. He knows. He knows. What will he do to my father? "We were not expecting you," she lies hopefully.

He plays along with her lies: "I know. Sorry." He is sarcastic, revolted, silently fuming; his eyes narrow and he somehow manages to look scornfully down his nose at her, despite the fact that she is standing and he is sitting at the table. Edward stares at them, confused. "I just popped in for a little... chat." He is facing Edward across the table, who is confused by the tone of his words. Guy turns towards Marian, a disgusting leer plastered across his features. "Where have you been?" He speaks excruciatingly slowly, prolonging the agony. He repulses her. She is scared out of her wits, and just wants to run out of the door. She restrains herself for fear for her father.

"At the hanging". Obviously. She glances over to her father, trying to convey to him that he must go; he must get out of the house. "Can we get you something to drink?" She attempts to divert the conversation. She fails.

"I don't think so."His expression could scare the night itself. He slowly gets up from his chair, takes one foreboding stride and is looming over her. He wastes no time; "Show me the necklace."

Play ignorant. "What necklace?" Her voice catches in her throat and sounds more scared than she intended it to. It is obvious she is lying.

Edward is shocked. This man had been presenting his daughter with his affection laid on a platter and now he looks daggers at her. The former sheriff tries to intervene, "If I may say so -". Years of training have made Guy's reactions lethally quick, and Edward is old and slow. The gloved hand strikes out like a snake's tongue and Edward is caught off guard. He falls to the floor, stunned. Marian yells in protest. She stares at Guy, her eyes burning. How dare he?

Guy seems unfazed at having brutally hit a frail, defenceless man to the ground. He has turned back to Marian, talking ominously slowly. "Show me... your necklace."

"I don't know what you're talking about." She is shaking. On the other side of the room, Edward gets carefully up, clinging on to a wooden post. Marian is worried about him; he has never looked so weak.

"Maybe your father does. Shall we ask him?" Guy is losing all calm fury. His rage seems to be gradually boiling over and spilling into ill-formed threats. He shifts his weight as if to step towards Edward and raises his arm.

"NO! Stop! My father does not know anything!" He is gazing deep into her eyes. She tries to use it to her advantage; she thinks of Robin. She thinks the thing that she knows will help her; she thinks of the time when, so many years ago, she first realised she loved him. It makes her eyes burn with passion. She hopes Guy will mistake it for passion for him. He does, the effect is not the one desired; it just reminds him further of her betrayal. His eyes bore further into her, so much so that she starts to think he is trying to see into her thoughts.

"So do you admit your guilt?" Their faces are tormentingly close, his lank black hair brushing her face just like his words brush her mind; tantalisingly cruelly.

"I know not the guilt of which you speak, I have done no wrong." Her voice is impassive, flat.

Guy laughs in mock sincerity. It is a slow, derisive laugh. "You lie." His deliberate words echo in the small room like a trapped bird. "I have killed an innocent man because of you."

It is Marian's turn to laugh in rage. This is just too much. She loses her temper."You accuse me; put me at fault for a man's death for which the fault is yours? Now you claim to feel remorse for this man? That has never stopped you before. Killing men seems to be part of your daily routine."

"Do not pretend to speak with such conviction. You may deny it, but ought to share my guilt." He is growling now. He reminds Marian of the stories her father used to tell of the three headed dog that guards the gates of the underworld. This thought lightens her mood slightly, if just for a moment. Perhaps if Guy had three heads, one of them might see the Sheriff for what he truly is. Or perhaps, she inwardly chuckles; perhaps one might learn that a mask, trousers and some fighting skills do not necessarily denote a man is hidden underneath. Her eyes flick back to his face and her mood is swiftly altered. Then she sees something. A want. A need. He is lonely; he needs to be loved. He needs people to like her. She is reminded of what Much often tells her of Robin. She always thought Robin wanted glory – she thought it was the reason he went to the holy land, the reason he helped the poor – but Much was right; he needed to be loved. Now she saw the same need in Gisbourne. They were two men who were so similar, yet had taken their similarities and used them for such different things: Robin needed to be loved, so he helped people – the poor, Marian (though she suspected there was more than one reason for him helping her), anyone – and found his love there. Guy needed to be loved and could not be, so he turned his need to hatred. But she had found this true longing, this innate desire, and now that he was turning his hatred on her she could expose it.

"I thought we were friends. Everyone hates you but I saw you for who you really were. I saw beneath the black and the hatred. You are a good man. Nothing will change that." Her stomach contracts and she thinks she might vomit as she uses the same words for Guy as she had for Robin earlier that day at her window. It is true though; further proof of their similarity. "I know how you feel for me. I thought you... cared for me." She may not have welcomed his affections but she recognised them for what they were. She knew he was not just a slightly better-looking clone of the Sheriff; he felt things under his hard shell.

"I thought that also." His words are irrelevant to her; she is studying him like a book. She knows she is right; that he does have emotions, but chooses to hide them under a thick skin of cruelty and depravity. "Now I know I was deceived." His words hit her harder than he hit her father.

"I am not deceitful!" Not to those who truly matter, anyway.

"The necklace proves otherwise."

"You would have me prove my innocence?" She is getting truly irritated now, which, conjoined with the fear that rattles her bones, is beginning to show on her face.

"Show me the necklace." His face is blank but somehow manages to be menacing and overbearing. He glances towards her father. 'Sir' Edward – what a mockery, he contemplates as he muses over different ways to torture him that will get the truth out of Marian.

"Have I committed a crime?" She is playing for time, without really knowing why. Time cannot save me now, she thinks. Perhaps she is wrong. Perhaps she has an almost silent, almost invisible woodland creature on her side that she does not know about. Who knows?

"Show me the necklace." He repeats simply.

"I will not! This is the end of our friendship. How can I be friends with somebody who demands proof of my innocence without stating my crime?" Friends. Of course, that was all he wanted. The strength of her sarcasm reflects that of his quiet anger. The room holds its breath. Edward quivers.

"You betrayed me to Robin Hood. You gave him the necklace, you told him of my plan. And now you will pay the price." There. He had said it. Her features visibly shift and he notices. He has no doubt of her guilt now. His snarling voice scrapes round the walls of the small room like a winter wind, making it seem even smaller and more cramped. It is a fourth being that dominates the conversation and prises her fear from the depths of her very soul, laying it out for all to admire.

Sir Edward is scared. What will Gisbourne do to my daughter? His face boasts a bruise that any schoolboy would be proud of from Guy's gloved hand, his large signet ring having made an almost comprehensible mark on Edward's face. The irony is not lost on Edward.

Marian's eyes speak volumes. They hurl abuse at Gisbourne and bestow pity upon her father. Most of all, however, they show a side of Marian that she would rather was kept hidden. They show panic. Indisputable, incontrovertible, undeniable panic; for Robin, for her father, and for herself. He knows, and there is nothing I can do.

"You have no proof." It is a naive reply and she knows it.

"And you have no necklace." True. And annoyingly relevant. She hears a creak in her room. Inspiration strikes.

"It is upstairs." She inwardly groans as her own stupidity as soon as the words are out of her mouth. Surely I could have come up with something better.

Predictably, Gisbourne is not fooled. "No, it's not."

"It is in my bedchamber. I will fetch it for you." Bugger. No going back now.

"Don't waste my time." Droplets of loathing shower her as he spits his reply.

She glowers up at his scowling face. It dawns on her that she must appease him, slowly; she knows there is no necklace in her bedchamber and she must try and pacify his emotions. "Please." I will beg if I have to. She is desperate. "Let me prove myself to you."

Edward looks worriedly from Guy to Marian and back again. Has Marian truly got the necklace in her room? He highly doubts it. Gisbourne's face repulses him – more than usual, that is. His eyes are slits and as black as the thoughts that lie beneath and his upper lip curls like an animal as Marian makes her way, anxiously, towards the rickety staircase. Guy's hand rests on the silver-plated handle of his sword as he surveys the dingy room. Edward is petrified – Guy seems to have finally discovered where, or rather with whom, his daughters true feelings lie: He knows. He knows. What will he do to my daughter? He hopes against hope she has chosen to climb out the window or some other innovative escape plan.

Slowly, anxious about leaving her father alone with that monster, Marian climbs the stairs. Her steps are measured, tentative; she does not want to disturb the silence that has befallen the house now the arguing has stopped. She creaks open the door to her bedchamber and slumps dejectedly against the wall. Her head lolls and she sags to the floor. I rest my forehead on my knees and all I feel is utter despair; a mixture of hatred for the conceited bastard standing below me, fear for my father and for Robin once Gisbourne has finished with us, and anger at myself for letting things get this far. I could have done so much to prevent it. I could have not accepted that annoying necklace in the first place, I could have not let Robin see the stupid thing, I could have not let my vanity consume me and not worn it, I could have used my stupid brain and realised that Guy had, of course, stolen it. After all, why would Guy buy a necklace for me? No, she reminds herself, he did feel for her. She even believes that right now, whilst his face may suggest otherwise, he feels affection for her. Or passion at least. Yes, it's passion! Why had I not realised before? He does not gasp every time he sees me, nor do his eyes glow with the breath-taking, spine-shivering love I see in Robin's. He wants me to love him, of that I am sure, and he wants me, but as his lover, not his love. I am a possession to him, like a sword or a new horse, and now I have disappointed him he will dispose of me as he would them.

She realises just how long she has been sitting there as the sun appears from its hiding place behind the clouds. Of course, she muses as she hears squeals of joy from the village children playing by the well, everyone is enjoying the lovely summer day. Her mind promptly flicks back to the dire problem in hand as the sound of Guy's irritated cough penetrates the floorboards.

Inspiration strikes for the second time that day, and she prays this will be somewhat better than her 'brainwave' earlier. She jumps to her feet and starts upturning vases and dropping candles, breaking quills and ripping parchment. She catches her hand on some metal sticking out of the wall as she rips the curtain from its holdings. Undeterred, over goes the table, off come the bed clothes and the ink spills onto the floor, seeping through the floorboards like the fear that spreads through her as she hears heavy, foreboding footsteps coming up the stairs. She whirls round, too late.

Leaning against the door is a gaunt, black-clad figure, smirking at her idiocy. "You making it look like a robbery?" Marian's eyes close in misery. Shit. Her last hope is gone. "My! Robin Hood's broken in and stolen the necklace!" His sarcasm shows he understands her motives immediately. Silence fills the air like rain, before his tone changes. "I thought we were friends," he says simply, echoing her words from earlier.

"So did I." I was never your friend. The very idea makes her sick to her stomach.

"The only reason you paid me any attention was to feed information to my enemy." The words are agonizingly slow and deliberate.

"That's not true." Her voice is a whisper; she is pleading it to be so. The reply is reflex, but it makes Marian contemplate this. She is certainly not his friend, but she feels for him. He stirs her. She feels hatred towards him as an impulse but now she is questioning it. Is it really hatred? Could it, possibly, horribly, be love? It nauseates her. She knows he excites her and her cheeks burn upon seeing him, she knows he induces strong emotions in her, but beyond that she is uncertain. Her feelings towards him are mixed; she feels her being fill with anger when she sees him bully some poor, innocent villager, and yet she dreams about him and justifies some of his actions which she knows should disgust her. Either way, he makes me feel alive. So no, I do not only pay him attention to feed information to Robin. But doing that makes me feel alive too. It is dangerous, like the Nightwatchman, and it feeds my hunger for passion; Robin hates her being in danger, but thetruth is she craves it.

"Why persist with lies? You're dead anyway." There, he has said it. He will kill her. Gisbourne's mind is torturing him. He glowers down at her. She is so frail, so fragile. How could she do this? How long has it been going on? She was betrothed to him once; did she love him? Worse, does she still? I cannot stand the idea. He was my enemy and all the time she has been betraying me? The idea of a mere woman – or anyone for that matter – having such an impact on me is revolting. I have spent my life becoming independent and strong. I gaze at Marian. I want to hold her, to kiss her, to make love to her. I want her to be mine forever. But I do not understand; I gave her gifts and she betrays me. A fierce anger boils inside me; she denies it even now. "You still do not have the courage to tell me the truth."

Unseen, an almost silent, almost invisible woodland creature deftly climbs up the side of the house. It is a climb he knows well; he could do it with his eyes closed, and indeed has many times, in order to impress a certain someone at the top.

Gisbourne's words seem to strike a chord with her. She walks over to the window. She knows what she is about to say, and is excited and scared about his reaction in equal measure. "The truth?" He has pride enough to speak of truth? "The truth is this country is being choked to death." Tears are spilling down her face like collectable misery. Her voice is an epitome of defiance tinged with fear and she is struggling for breath between her silent sobs. "The truth is people are being forced to lie and cheat and steal. And if you really want to know the truth, then you should know that I…"

Her eyes flick to a movement outside the window. She gasps. A hand, bearing a simple silver necklace, made of a beautiful Celtic design, is outstretched below her. She looks to the body and face it is attached to. It is Robin! His head is pressed against the wall and his eyes glint with worry and care. He is out of breath; he has run as fast as he has ever run before to get there. She gazes into his eyes and gasps at her luck. She should have known he would fix it. She has faith in him, even if she'll never admit it. She takes the necklace from his hand and her heart speeds at his touch. Her body tingles and her stomach flutters. Guy notices her silence.

"What?" He asks. What is this truth? What could she possibly say to me now? She can hurt me no more and I am immune to her begging. He is not immune, of course, but he does not know that.

"That I have something to show you." Her body language is the same as it was seconds ago. Tears are still streaming down her cheeks and her voice is barely above a whisper, but it has a rebellious edge to it now. She turns slowly round and shows him the contents of her right hand. The necklace rattles gently as she trembles.

Guy stares at it, disbelieving.

He stands upright and walks towards her. It cannot be. Has she been stalling me, torturing me all this time just for the sake of it? I will not believe it. His penetrating gaze flicks between her insolent eyes and her hand. What demented creature is she? I thought she loved me, cared for me at least. This is worse than if she had been passing Hood information; she is too cowardly to outwardly defy me and yet loathes me, loathes what I stand for. But how did she get it? It was around the neck of that peasant wretch, who did say that Hood had given it to her. Are my memories deceiving me? Am I to fall prisoner to my own mind? No. She must have simply got the ridiculous piece of metal from Hood before she arrived here, and wanted to torment me nonetheless. And yet... It does not make sense!

"That's not possible." His voice is soft in the face of such hatred.

"Feel it." She presses the ghastly thing into his gloved hand; gloved to cover the atrocities it has committed; that way blood cannot stain his hands. Her touch enlivens him; her anger fuels his need. "It is real." She pushes his arm away from her as he stares at the necklace like it is able to explain her to him. Her eyes blaze with suppressed defiance. "And you owe me an apology," she adds, almost as an afterthought. It is a risky thing to say and she knows it, but she is thrilled by his rage.

"I'm sorry." The words are unnatural to him and he cannot look at her as he says them. "I was wrong." His brow furrows and he is unable to understand it. Suddenly, his eyes flicker as he seems to be considering something else. The Sheriff. What will he do to Marian? He has already publicly humiliated her for simply giving the villagers food, what will he do this time? "Marian, I told the Sheriff that you betrayed us." He looks her in the eyes now.

"Tell him you were mistaken." Her eyes file over the necklace, as if in proof. Fear tinges her voice.

"He's expecting news of your arrest." Robin, crouching outside the window, listens hard. He is worried. He must protect Marian, but he cannot go in and save her now; that would simply confirm that she was betraying Gisbourne. His eyes focus on Marian. Fear clings to her perfect features like a mourning veil.

"Show him the necklace." Evidently.

The argument is getting more heated than ever. The raised voices seep through the floor to reach Edward's ears. He is concerned.

"No necklace will persuade the Sheriff." Obviously. "How could he trust you after this? I cannot protect you." His mind whirs. He knows how to use this to his advantage. The thought is wrong and immoral, and he brushes it aside.

"You must! It is proof!" She is truly afraid now. The sheriff will not harm her father this time, of that she is sure. But he will harm her, probably kill her, and what will Edward do without her? He is old and frail and far too forgetful to be left alone. Robin will say he will help him, but Edward cannot live in the forest!

"You have already defied the Sheriff once. Suspicion will cling to you and your father. You must prove your loyalty beyond all doubt." The thought flies back to him. He does not listen to his conscience this time, only his heart. She will be mine. She cannot refuse now; it is the only way to save her life. "Marry me. It's the only way. As Lady Gisbourne, I could protect you." Doubt. Why is she not happy? I am saving her life! "What do you say?

Robin is outside and, for once in his life, scared. He shakes his head vehemently. His eyes scream at her to refuse. Why does she not refuse? He feels nothing for her; it is I who should be asking that question, and she would not hesitate, of that I am sure.

Marian is visibly uncomfortable. He cannot comprehend it. She does not know what to say. "You leave me no time to think. A moment ago you would have me hanged and now you want to marry me?" He wants to own me. He wants to buy me body and soul. No wonder he asks now, why else would he? Why else but now when he knows I will find it hardest to refuse.

"Is it so difficult to prove your loyalty?" Me; be loyal to me! I offer you comfort and safety and yet you do not love me? His thoughts are angry, he longs for her to show emotion, show passion. He wants to slap her like he slapped her father, just to shake some life into her. Do not just stand there as it you are made of stone!

"I am loyal but…" I am not loyal; I love Robin Hood. I love Robin Hood and if you cannot see that then you are a fool.

"But what?" He cannot stand the suspense. "I know you were once betrothed to Robin Hood…"

"I was a girl then," and those were the happiest days of my life. She attempts to say it nonchalantly and the words stab her stomach like the sword that hangs from Gisbourne's waist.

"Would you still hesitate if he were asking the question?"

Robin buries his head in his knees. He does not want to listen but he cannot tear himself away.

His eyes fill with tears, their sky blue depths misty as he looks far into the distance, not bearing to look at Marian's face. If only he would. If so he might see where her gaze falls; not at Gisbourne, but at the small wooden box that sits on a low table. Beauty emanates from it in such brilliance it is almost ostentatious. Almost. It is a beauty that only she can see; a beauty devoid of extravagance and luxury, but one that whispers words of love that fill the room with a warmth unparalleled to the warmest summers day. In it, sitting on its green velvet cushion, is a simple silver circle. It is her engagement ring. She told him she threw it into the forest when he went to war. She did. He went out and scoured the trees until he found it and, wordlessly, returned it. (How else would he know his leafy home of perpetual homelessness so well?) He thinks she is unaware that he restored it to its rightful place; he does not know how she gazes at it every day, sleeps with squeezed tight in her fist just to know that she was loved once, and just possibly, maybe, is, or could be again.

She pauses and gazes out the window. I'm sorry. I'm sorry Robin for what I am about to do. But I have to do it; to protect my father and to protect you. You are as obstinate as fate and you may not like it but you know it has to be so. She does not look Guy in the eyes as the repulsive words struggle out of her mouth, getting stuck on the way as her heart tries to stop them. "I would never marry him. I despise Robin Hood."

"Really?" Guy questions her supposed hatred, but believes her all the same, simply because he wants to. "So what about me?" The words are rehearsed and gentle, but reek of such cruelty to their listeners. "Will you marry me?" Silence between each brutal syllable hollows Robin's heart out like a spoon. All eyes are on Gisbourne. He uses the same voice to ask for her hand in marriage as he does to condemn an innocent to death. Robin notices and dawns on him that there may not be much difference. Even Edward has climbed the stairs to listen. He wants to burst in the door and shout at her, Don't you dare! He cannot be trusted. He is a monster and a murderer and I cannot allow it. Please do not. Please.

Robin's thoughts are blank. He cannot think.

"Yes."

One word.

One word has destroyed the happiness of three people so effortlessly. Robin is unable to check his tears. Edward staggers on the stairs and clenches his fists until his knuckles turn white. Marian stares at the box in silent apology. There is a soft thud as Robin's head hits the wall in utter despair. "I will marry you." Why? Robin wants to scream at her. Please don't. You are everything to me, I cannot lose that. Marian's eyes finally look into Guy's, her vision obscured by the shadow of tears yet to fall. "I will marry you the day King Richard returns to England."

Guy sighs, half in despair that she should be so difficult, half in joy that she will finally comply. Her eyes leave his face again; she cannot bear to look at such delight when the very air presses misery into every corner. Gisbourne tries to kiss her. She tilts her head away from him, but not to look at Robin or the box this time; she cannot stand it.

"Shall we go downstairs and tell my father the good news?" She tilts back her head and grimaces to stifle the sobs.

"Yes." He finally gets what he wants and yet still he does not smile, nor lift the hard edge from his voice. "I have an apology to make." His eyes flash with anger at having to apologise even now– even now he cannot show humility.

He leaves the room. She crosses to the window and carefully closes one shutter. Glancing out, her eyes meet Robin's. She keeps her face devoid of emotion else she falls into a heap and cries her eyes out. His is so full of despair. She wants to fall into his arms and let his love encircle her and make it all better.

She does not.

"Sorry."

A/N: Bit longer than intended, sorry!

I wrote the first chapter, then watched the episode and couldn't rest writing an unplanned second. Yes, there are a lot of references and/or quotes from 'The Forsyte Saga' (like the title) as I also watched the 2002 version of that (If you haven't seen it, youtube it; it's awesome!) and was stricken by the similarity of various characters' situations.

During this scene in the episode there are two scene changes, so I took a little bit of artistic license and made up what I think happens in between. I am a strong Robin / Marian shipper, but I enjoy writing about the Guy / Marian relationship immensely!

Disclaimer: I do not (unfortunately) own any of the characters from Robin Hood. No copyright infringement intended.