Author's Note: Thank you to the people who've read this story, alerted and taken the time to review. It's much appreciated, so thank you. The usual disclaimers apply, and I own none of this.

Chapter Two: The Great Escape.

As she watches her horse lapping greedily at the waters of the river, Marian ponders Guy. She knows this ravine well and found it easily, but the wait had started to get to her. He should be there by now, but every time she climbs the steep embankment to search the road, it remains stubbornly devoid of little black, Guy shaped, specks on the horizon. Up there, she feels exposed, as though Winchester has ultra-human eye sight and can actually see her fleeing his clutches. So, she scrambled back down the ravine over ten minutes ago, and has been there ever since.

To take her mind off the wait, she diverts herself with trying to trace the origins of Guy of Gisborne. Or, to be more precise, of her and Guy of Gisborne. It seems to her, looking back at that moment, as if he simply materialised in her life, like the shadows took substance and Guy just assumed human form before her eyes and had been there ever since. He had taken up residence in her vicinity, in her life, and in her head. He was, in turn, a stubborn black stain in her linens that refused to be washed out; and at the same time, he was the thrill of the hunt, exciting and repellent in equal measure. He has always been a presence in her life she can never quite bring herself to expunge, and that could only mean he had promise. The promise of what, is that which she now ponders.

On the other hand, there is Robin. Robin is a simple man: what you see is what you get; heart firmly on sleeve. He is steady and she always knows where she is with him. He is a good man, who's care and concern for the suffering of others was as real as her own. They belong together, that much is clear to anyone who ever saw them together. So why is it, then, that in the dead of night, she lies awake in bed and imagines -

"Guy!" she calls, her thoughts abruptly cut off as he finally appears, along with another. "Allan," she adds quietly, the name leaving a bitter taste as it rolls off her tongue. Of all the people Guy could have gone back for, it had to be him.

Both men stop and dismount at the edge of the ravine, deciding to lead their horses down to the river rather than risk an unsteady ride over the loose stone embankment. She notices, with some satisfaction, that Allan cannot quite meet her eye as they descend to the river. Guy, however, is smiling, throwing his cheekbones into relief, the dark shadow of stubble lining his jaw, blue eyes reflecting the sun under the loose, raven dark fringe.

"Marian," he greets her, relief in his voice, "we've been looking everywhere-"

"What's he doing here?" she interjects, jabbing an accusing finger at a shrinking Allan A Dale.

Allan is scandalised. "Hang on a minute, you'd be marching down the aisle of oblivion with the earl of Winchester right now, if it weren't for me. Tell 'er, Guy."

Marian feels keenly the pinching of her pride. "If I hadn't needed a diversion, you'd be stretching the gallows right now so I think this one's mutually beneficial-"

"Cut it out, both of you!" Guy cuts across them both before the horns can truly lock in.

Marian sighs while Allan busies himself with the horses, mutinous from Guy's rebuke and her rebuff. As soon as he is by the waters edge, Marian turns to Guy. The dust from the road is all over his cloak, the ride has been tough on him. The silence between them swells uncomfortably like a sprained ankle. She tries to smile, but the result is nothing more than a twitch, more like a nervous tick, at the corners of her mouth.

"You killed the Guard, didn't you?" she finally asks.

He doesn't answer, but she's seen his reaction before. Like a child caught with his hands in the sugar jar, except the offence is a hundred fold more serious. The colour darkens in his face, he averts his gaze and pretends to be watching the idle flow of the river towards Nottingham Castle. But then Guy resolves himself, and turns to meet her gaze almost defiantly.

"I had to get you out of there," he justifies himself, "whatever the cost. Would Hood have done any different?"

He's challenging her, or at least that's what it feels like. "He wouldn't just kill-"

"Then he would have left you to be sold into the marriage bed, then?"

The triumphant glitter in his eye disgusts her. "No, he would have found another way. I know he would," she retorts hotly. "And how do I even know that Winchester was going to marry me? I only have your word for it-"

"I wouldn't lie to you-"

Her laughter cuts him off, mirthless and sardonic. The tone cuts him to the soul, she can see it in his expression. "That's just your way Guy," she lectures him. "If you have a nut to crack you reach for the sledgehammer first without thinking ahead, without seeing that you'll only crush the fruit inside the shell as well."

He holds her gaze, but his expression is set. Thin lipped and chastened. Expectantly, Marian awaits some further justification, but all he does is lower a bag from over his shoulder. Her bag, full of her trinkets and mementoes.

"This is yours," he explains, placing it at her silk slippered feet. "I kept it safe for you."

He's done it again, she thinks to herself. Moments ago, she was furious with him, only for him to do something selfless, something kind for her. She takes it up by the straps, muttering a 'thank you'.

"So, where are you going now?" she asks, trying to change the subject. "The Sheriff will give you a hard time for this. You'll be punished, no matter what."

Guy laughs, starts walking her along the riverside. "If I go back I die," he said. "No, it's just the three of us, now."

Marian's heart jumps, her brow creasing into a deep frown. "What do you mean, the three of us?" she asks, placing a hand on his chest to stop him in his tracks. "I'm going back to Sherwood Forest; Robin will take care of me from here. He's been an outlaw for years."

Guy looks like he's been kicked in the stomach. Wide eyed and winded, he lowers his gaze as tears glisten and well up. "You can't," he informs her desperately, his voice choked. "Your escape has cost Vaisey the Pact of Nottingham. If his men find you they will kill you instantly-"

For a moment, all Marian can do is glower at him as it dawns on her what he has done. "You did this on purpose!" she accuses shrilly. "You didn't just want me away from Winchester, you made sure you got me well away from Robin, too-"

"Marian, it wasn't like that!" Guy retorts hotly. "The Sheriff was on to me as soon as I left your chambers, I had no time to plan anything-"

"Oh spare me!" she spits at his feet, whirls around and marches away. She doesn't know where she's going, she just wants to be away from him, and his pet traitor. She couldn't bear them to see the tears that burn down her cheeks at this moment. Anyway, she can guarantee that Guy will follow her like a Spaniel puppy wherever she goes. She joked about it to Robin, once. Robin: that simple, uncomplicated soul.

A sheet of fine, cream, vellum is stretched out on the table in front of the Sheriff. The Pact of Nottingham, unsigned and unsealed. It might as well be torn to shreds. Blood stains mar the surface, dripping from an ornate, curved knife that sits on top of it. The knife was a gift he had bought for Guy, an d that gift had been used to kill a Guard, a death blamed on an escaped prisoner. It didn't take a genius to work out what had happened. Not now that Marian and Guy had both vanished.

Vaisey had been furious. He'd marched through the galleries of the Castle making the Councillors flinch into the shadows like whipped curs at his approach. He'd seen them cross themselves, sending up silent prayers of thanks as he passed them by and let them go unmolested by his towering wrath. The only reason he did that was because the sight of them thrilled him. The fear he inspires, the respect, is something more than human.

Now, however, things are different. He leans across the table and casually cuts himself a slice of the absurd, England shaped, cake he had baked for the occasion of the signing of the Pact, and chews on it thoughtfully. He has Robin Hood in his dungeons. He'd burst into the Council Chamber thinking the Pact was going to be signed, only to find it full of the Sheriff's own soldiers. Naturally, his first instinct had been to hang the bastard. But since the discovery of Guy's betrayal, he had conceived better ideas. Two birds; one stone.

He takes his time over the cake before clicking his fingers at the chief guard. "You there," he addresses the man without looking at him. "Go fetch our new friend from the dungeons. I think we need a little chat."

Immediately, the Guard obeys without demur. While he waits, Vaisey issues another command for more soldiers to be sent out into Sherwood Forest, scouring the woodlands for any sign of either the Outlaws or Guy and Marian. If they get to them first, so be it. But, he has a feeling his guest would do a much better job.

"Well, well, well," the Sheriff claps his hands with glee as Robin is finally deposited in front of him. "The legendary Robin Hood, no less."

Hood remains silent, but Vaisey can feel the hatred radiating from every fibre of the younger man's being.

"Guess what, Hood?" says the Sheriff, making a note to relish every moment of the next few minutes. "Your little love-bird's run off with Guy of Gisborne."

That wiped the lop sided sneer of Hood's face. "You what?" he asks, flat and uncomprehending.

Vaisey's face twists into a grin. "Tell me about it!" he replies, his anger well hidden beneath a mask of joviality. "Really, I'm as surprised as you are. I thought she hated him; I thought she'd sooner die than climb into bed with that gutter snake..." he pauses for dramatic effect -"I do hope he hasn't taken her against her will."

That's done it. Hood is riling, now. He's in a panic. "Where. Is. She?" he demands, declaratively. "If he's hurt her, I swear.." but his words trail off as he struggles to articulate exactly what he will do.

Vaisey just gives a non-committal shrug of his shoulders. "You tell me," he says to the roof beams. "But you know what Guy's capable of. You know what he could be doing, and he could be doing it right now."

This is getting entertaining for Vaisey. Hood has turned scarlet with suppressed rage, his weak spot had always been the girl. The damsel in distress. It was all so easy. He can bring him onside, unite against a common enemy, and Gisborne will pay for humiliating him in front of the nobility as he had. He may even get the girl in the process, as well as the Outlaws. He could have a bumper crop of heads if he plays his cards right, and Hood is too outraged to see he's being led down the garden path. He does know that he's being led somewhere, though.

Robin fixes Vaisey in a hard stare. "You're not telling me all this for no reason, are you?"

Vaisey gives a slow, deliberate, shake of his head. "I grant you amnesty; you bring me Gisborne … alive."

There is a moment's silence as Hood ponders the deal, trying to suss out the traps. But seeing none, he knows he has no real choice. It's a get out of jail free card. "You're on," he agrees at length.

Vaisey smiles; the trap is set.

It is dusk, and the end of a very long day. Guy leads the way, with Marian sufficiently subdued to finally follow him, and Allan silently trailing after them like a stray dog. They don't speak; they don't even look back at one another. Guy made several attempts to slow his pace to allow Marian to catch up with him, but he slowed so did she and their distance remained as wide as ever. But as a tavern finally comes into view, and they stable their horses in the outhouse, he finally gets his chance.

"You're worried about your father, aren't you?" he asks her.

Her expression darkens as she continues to re-tether her horse. "Of course I am," she murmurs, still not looking at him.

He waits for her to say more, wary of barraging her with talk, but she stubbornly refuses to take his bait.

They cannot book into the tavern, but they have a barn that will provide overnight shelter, unbeknownst to the proprietor. He wonders if this is contributing to her ongoing sulk. He feels it himself, as he only ever wanted to provide her with the best of everything and he feels his failure acutely.

"Things will get better," he assures her, "I promise."

She finally makes brief eye contact – a small acknowledgement of his continued existence. "It can't get much worse for you."

Guy had to concede that small point. But, he was at that stage where he would do anything to see her smile again. Anything to win her approval. He thinks on it as he secures his horse beside Allan's, and waits for her to do likewise. By the time she joins him outside, he has made up his mind. "I'm going to get your father," he tells her.

"How?" she gasps, turning to look him full in the face, now.

He raises a pained smile. "I know all the ways in and out of the Castle, I know that place better than I know myself," he replies, walking her back out to forecourt of the empty tavern. He glances through the windows, even inside it seems deserted. "There's a way into the dungeon, and if I can get in there I can get your father out. I still have a set of keys, remember."

He watches her reaction carefully, eager for any sign of gratitude and approval. But she simply bites her lip. "It's too dangerous," she flatly states. "I cannot let you do it."

But like a dog with a bone, he's on to it and will not let go. "Allan got into the Castle all the time when he was with Hood and his Outlaws," he argues. "All we need is a disguise, and an escape route. It'll be easy-"

"But there's only three of us," she counters.

"Two – I'm not letting you risk your life!"

She goes to argue with him again, but he places a forefinger softly over her lips. "No, Marian," he tells her, "I need you to stay safe and let me and Allan handle this. Then, when your father's safe, we can get out of here and start over again. A new life for all of us."

Hope curls in his heart as her expression softens. He is winning her over, he can sense it. Her heart cries yes, but her brain hesitates with just that nag of caution holding her back. She will love him if he can get Sir Edward out of that prison cell in Nottingham Castle, and that's all he ever wanted. If he can't have that, then life really isn't worth living. She smiles her first natural smile since they fled the castle that afternoon. "Yes," she says, resolutely. "Do it."