The ride back to Locksley was a long, painful one after a silent, sleepless night as far away from his wife as he could get. Choosing to ride beside the party on his favorite coal-black charger, Guy kept his eyes trained resolutely forward, scanning the woods as the wheelhouse trundled along, Marian and her father in tow. He was sure Hood would appear at any second, agitated and pointing his bow like a dangerous child, but as they approached the manor, not a soul blocked their way. The Old North Road was a treacherous place, and rife for ambush.
Uneasy and convinced they would be attacked, Guy was only partially aware of Marian, who strode past him with queenly haughtiness, accompanied by Edward who would not look at his new son-in-law. Rolling his eyes in irritation, He handed his horse to Allen, who had ridden ahead that morning, and wandered slowly around the property, one hand resting on the pommel of his sword. He wasn't sure what he would find, but was prepared for the ambush that would inevitably follow.
"If you are out here, Hood, do not hide," Guy called into the emerald forest of Sherwood Forest. But there was no reply. He waited for several more minutes, but instead of the snarky, affronted tones of his enemy, there was only the twittering of birds and scuffle of rabbits in the underbrush. Shrugging, he turned back to the house. When he arrived inside, he paused in the doorway, mouth falling open before he could stop it.
One or more of the female servants had evidently taken to decorating the place for their new Lady, and had covered the walls with cheery, if not a bit faded, tapestries of birds and wild animals, and placed fresh reeds on the floor in a herringbone pattern. On the table sat a large fat Samian ware vase of foxgloves, and a chest of Marian's effects, not yet taken up.
"What is the meaning of this?" He asked his chaplain, just as he appeared from the servant's quarters.
"The women, Sire," bowed Thornton. "I must congratulate you, My Lord. I did not know you were betrothed. I regret I was not at the ceremony."
"Regret nothing," growled Guy, "this whole thing will be over soon."
Thornton's mouth dropped into a horrified 'o' and the whites of his eyes grew to an alarming size. His fear for Marian masked his own confusion, and Guy gritted his teeth against the affront.
"But…Sire," he stammered.
"Lady Marian is to stay here with her father until I return from France," Guy said icily. "She may go wherever she likes, and entertain whatever charlatan she pleases, as she has always done." He gave Thornton a pointed glare, and the man shrunk before him.
Without waiting for a response, Guy brushed past him and up the stairs to the new Lady's chambers where Marian sat on her new bed, clutching her hands, face pink and blotchy from crying.
"Stop that, woman," Guy said so harshly it surprised even him. "This won't last long. I will be away to France within the week."
Marian's chin shot up, and she met his eye for the first time since she called him a bastard.
"What?" she asked, eyes wide.
"Yes," he ground out, "what part of that don't you understand? I'm going to end this farce, and you can do as you please."
"Liar!" she cried, standing.
"Do not call me that," Guy moved closer to her, standing at his full height, several heads taller than her. "Never call me that in my own house or you will be living in the stables."
"Ha! Fine words from my husband!" Marian shot, nostrils flared.
"Am I your husband?" Guy growled back, "I cannot remember a wedding night."
Marian shrunk back from him at this, and retreated to the bench by the wide window.
"You'll never have me," she said, watching him through red-rimmed eyes. "I will kill you or myself before you touch me."
Years ago, this statement would have inflamed his sense of injustice, and forced him to reconsider his approach towards her, so desperate was he to please her, but now… His chest still tightened at the thought of displeasing her, but he had not wanted to have her by force, or even duress. Other women were mere distractions compared to her, and he cared little for their feelings, even Seth's mother. They could be wooed and coerced easily, but Marian had become his obsession over the years, and not having won her, he felt like he had failed himself and vows he made as a knight.
Other men would have laughed and called it womanly sensitivity, they themselves taking what they wanted, pillaging with no regard for such silly things as the emotions of women. Such men as the knights he trained with would have laughed in his face and told him he should have taken her the day of their vows, whether she wanted it or not, and offered to do it for him, if he lost his nerve. But he had no interest in unearned spoils, and that was exactly what Marian had become.
She could evidently sense the distaste in his eyes, and for the first time since their marriage, he could not read her expression. It had changed from hatred, but it was not altogether unafraid.
"Oh, Marian, you are lucky you weren't married to my comrades, or a common yeoman." Guy snapped, a subtle threat in his tone. "I don't want you. Your father will be your warden in my absence and you will be given your duties by Thornton. If you live here, you will earn your keep."
Without waiting for a reply, Guy swept from the room, leaving Marian to stare after him, shocked.
He was a completely different person, Marian thought wonderingly as he watched his retreating back. She had been so intent on lamenting the loss of her old life, her love, and the prospect of giving up her role as the Night Watchman that she had not once considered him, or the impact their impromptu marriage might have had. It was clear he was not happy about it, but she wondered why. The whole ride to the manor she had expected him to ravage her the moment they were alone, but now the moment had passed, and yet she remained untouched. This unnerved her, for she could believe in Guy the Brute, but a closed-off and unadoring Guy was by far the more frightening beast. He had promised to leave her for France, and for the she was glad, but wondered what the outcome would be for her. If he cast her aside, would he honor remain intact or would he leave her with spite, ruining forever her reputation in the community. An annulment was one thing, but a separation for anything else would be entirely disastrous to a woman in her position. She hoped that Robin would still have her, but a small, frightened part of her feared that he would not; she having been another man's prize.
On the stairs Guy met Sir Edward, his face tired, and shoulders hunched. Once he saw his son-in-law however, he stood taller and watching his arrival with trepidation and anxiety.
"Sir Edward," Guy greeted him curtly, intent on escaping him down the stairs.
"Guy, might I speak to you?" he asked, stopping Guy dead in his tracks.
"I am busy, might it wait?" Guy shook his head.
"No," Sir Edward took Guy's leather-clad arm in his hand. "It is about Marian."
"Then there is nothing to discuss," Guy bit, pulling, but unable to free himself.
"Heed me, My Lord. Treat my daughter well."
"I will treat her as I please," Guy snarled angrily, "But you do not hear me, Lord. The marriage will be over within the month. I am going to petition the Queen. At this time of the year the tide will be swift, and I shall make it to Avignon in a fortnight once I am done here.
"Might you reconsider?" Sir Edward cried desperately as Guy succeeded in freeing his wrist.
"Reconsider, why?" the taller man glowered, one foot on the landing.
"It would be a better life for her here, Guy. Please, don't go to France."
Guy was genuinely floored by this request. For a moment he just stared, utterly dumbstruck.
"What?" his voice cracked, sure the old man had gone completely insane.
"I will die one day," Edward explained, mouth turned down, "and when I do there will be no one to protect her. There are no suitable men for her in the county, and she would never leave her lands."
"She could run away with Hood," some of Guy's venom returned, but it felt half-hearted. He blinked, unsure that he was hearing the old man properly.
"My daughter is better than that!" Lord Edward shook his head, blustering. "She will not live like a commoner! She is a Lady, as her mother was a Lady, and as her daughters will be. What do you think Robin could give her? Fine ideals, and little else."
To hear Edward speak so frankly shocked Guy.
"And you think I would be better for her? By all accounts she believes me to be the worst kind of blackguard. I am a villain to her, and the whole county. What makes you think she would give a damn about a marriage to her lover's worst enemy?"
"He…do not speak of her that way!" Edward stamped his foot angrily. "My daughter is a good child, My Lord. Do not blacken her so."
"She has done it herself," Guy deflected. "God's teeth, Edward. You ask me to forgive so much, and yet she will forgive nothing."
"She will learn to," Edward insisted. "Perhaps she might be of some use to you, in time."
Guy shook his head, unwilling to listen to the pleas as soon as he caught a glimpse of something shining out the window, in the bushes. Without another word, he stormed back out of the house and came face to face with Robin, who was hiding some way back in a copse of trees.
The younger man's face was irate, and Guy laughed humorlessly.
"You're late," he spat.
"What did you do to her?" Robin nearly shouted, "What did you do to her to make her marry you, you bastard?!"
"Nothing, as it turns out," Guy said gruffly, "It was our prince, or have you forgotten Prince John? Well, more specifically, it was his mother."
"What?" Robin raised his bow, arrow pointed at Guy's heart. He slowly raised his hands.
"Eleanor decreed we marry to help stabilized the realm," Guy bit. "So you can kill me, but it will do little good. I am bound for France to beg an annulment. I doubt a mailed petition would have the same effect."
"An annulment?" Robin seemed as shocked by this as Sir Edward, but for doubtless different reasons.
"Yes, you fool," Guy turned away from Robin, daring him to shoot. "But I have better things to do than argue with the likes of you, so piss off."
"Guy!" Robin called.
"No need to kill me, Hood. My Lady Wife will do it soon enough, if she's to be believed. Who knows, you might get lucky, or I might die at sea. But for now, you have ten seconds before I call my guards. I suggest you run."
Guy, after abandoning Robin in the woods, took to the Old North Road on his charger, and did not return for many hours. Travelling to the eastern village of Sneinton where no one knew him or cared to hinder him, he proceeded to get roaring drunk and did not ride home until the sky began to blush pink and red, a signal of his lateness. He was completely out to sea; Edward had asked him to stay wed to his Jezebel daughter in a rare plea, but she would clearly never love her new Lord, and would most likely have escaped already, abandoning her father for the woods and the outlaws.
Unwilling to cede to Edward's demands, Guy was still determined to travel and meet the French Queen herself, and could not help the small twinge of joy at the prospect of going home. He and his family had always been outsiders, though Sir Robert was a lord of great courage and character, and his son had felt acutely the isolation. Their Norman roots frightened people who remembered the bloody conquests from years before and were deeply suspicious of anyone who sounded or acting different from themselves. To this end, Guy had worked endlessly to rid himself of his accent, and to speak in the soft, steel-tipped voice he now adopted to hide any trace of a French lilt.
The only people he could speak to in his mother tongue were his cook and chambermaid, Colaye and Antoinette, and even they were loathe to speak it, lest the other servants become suspicious. They spoke it easily enough with him, however, and knew little of English, which they stuttered through if they were ever confronted with people from town.
He knew that they missed home, and planned to hire another servant in France, this time a man to do the work on the Mill. English Millers were accomplished, but the French made it an art, in Guy's mind.
As he rode, he considered this, his mother's song in his mind. He had never mourned her loss fully, and blamed his and his sister's banishment for it. They had to leave so quickly, and with so little, that there had never been a chance. Marian thought he was heartless, but it suited him. If she hated him she would not contest the annulment and he could go to France assured that his lands and tenants were safe with her father.
Back at the manor, Marian had prepared breakfast, unable to understand Colaye's accent, and insisting that she must, for her father was a very particular old man. Edward's cough had returned, and after she poured him a cup of tea with honey, she sat, picking at her meager portion of pottage and dandelions.
Quietly, he asked her where Guy had gone, but she shrugged. She was the last person he would have told.
So, when the man himself came in on silent feet, stubble shadowing his cheeks and blue eyes almost clear with weariness, she jumped.
He surveyed the scene with something close to contempt, and did not stop to take a bowl from the table, instead trudging to the back of the house, his leather squeaking softly as he moved.
About to sit back down to her meal, her father interjected in with a small cough.
"Get him, Marian. Bring him back for breakfast."
"Father!" Marian objected, eyeing her meal.
"You may not like it, but he is your Lord now," Sir Edward said. "You must be a wife."
"I will not!" Marian cried.
"I forbid you to leave him, Marian," Sir Edwards said resolutely.
"Father!" she stared at him, incredulous.
"Go out, and bring him back. He has doubtless not eaten for hours."
Marian glared, but stood. Unsure where Guy could have gone, she went to the yard and stopped. Mortified. At the well her new husband had undressed to his hose and stood, washing himself in the morning light. Sparkles of water shimmered on his skin, and he rubbed his face, oblivious to the intruder. His body, hardened from fighting and riding was like a Roman statue, all muscle and bone, and she found she could not move. She had never seen him like this, and though the sight of shirtless, or even naked men was nothing new, a discomfort still crept into her cheeks at the sight.
Looking up, he didn't immediately see her, and she attempted to flee, only to be stopped by a sharp bark.
"Marian," Guy said, standing non-plus and running a hand through his wet hair.
Marian blushed, and she set her jaw, ashamed.
"I came to tell you that you that there is pottage in the house," she said, forcing herself to stare resolutely at his dripping locks, counting the droplets as they fell.
"I won't be eating," he took a newly washed linen shirt that hung over the pump and disappeared momentarily from under it, eyes never leaving her face. "I have business in Nottingham."
"What sort of business? It's Saint Agnes Day, we will be expected at mass."
"I'm visiting the prior at Lenton," Guy replied.
"Why?" Marian asked, in spite of herself.
"They are the landlords of Keighton, and the sheriff has not received the rent," Guy lied. The Priory, an alien establishment by Cluny Abbey in France, had been the one place he and his sister could turn in their destitution, and it was there his relationship with Prior Jean had begun. It was also the only place he could seek advice without the appearance of weakness.
"God's Bones, Guy!" Marian cried, "can you not wait? It is a feast day!"
"No, I cannot," Guy replied, shocked at her blaspheming. Never had he heard such language from her, and began to suspect that their interactions before this had been of her invention; never revealing her true self. "Go to the church with your father, if you please, but take four coins," he reached into the sack on his belt and handed her the silver. "Say a prayer for Saint Agnes, and the trinity."
Marian was left to stare openly at her new husband. It appeared she did not know him at all.
AN: So I don't know which direction to take this in, but I'm happy to be writing again. I think the psychology of it all is really interesting, and Creepy Guy from the tv show would be cool with this I'm pretty sure, but even the actor who played him (Richard Armitage) thought he was poorly written and or treated, so I'm trying to make his character more relatable. I don't want this to be a typical love story, but I feel that Marian never really got why a marriage to Guy miiighhhhtttt be a good idea, something her father understood, even in the TV show. Also, trying to be more historically accurate—but of course I'm splicing from multiple legends and TV. If I could write it Robin would have died at Kirklees, the costumes would have made sense, and Guy would have a bit of a French accent! But I digress. R & R/ otherwise let me know if you'd like more.