Disclaimer: I don't own any of the character, nor some of the lines used in this story.
"Please." Mark pleaded as he stared at the cynical man. He needed the Sheriff to consent a night pass, since several weeks ago the Sheriff had decreed that Mark was not allowed to leave the castle without his approval. And right now, the consent was of utmost importance or his plan to rescue Daniel, the imprisoned boy, would fail. This would force them to resort to one of Robin's reckless plans, contrary to Mark's plan, which was based on shrewdness; to obtain the Sheriff's insignia on an order that stated the release of the boy, by placing the order carefully underneath the night pass, which was simply a detour.
Mark had used Guyline as an excuse, yet the Sheriff had a hard time believing him. Furthermore, he hated how the son of the Lord of Knighton was a distraction to his right hand. Nonetheless, after few seconds of staring at each other, the Sheriff grabbed some melted wax to consent the pass. But of course, it wasn't before he had thrown some of his rude remarks, which Mark had to listen to silently. He would never risk his father's life for such a petty act.
Once the pass was consented, and in hand, Mark headed toward Hood's camp. On the way, he kept thinking of what the Sheriff had said. Something regarding Guyline showing compassion to these little boys, and that drew a smile on Mark's face. However, he then felt a pang of guilt. To him, this was nothing but a rescue mission, and he would have had never thought of visiting Guyline otherwise.
As soon as the brunet had reached the camp, he showed the gang the order, and explained the plan he had in mind.
"Giborne won't release him to us. But will release him to a castle guard." Robin explained further with a grin, as she tapped the top of a headgear that was usually worn by the castle guards.
The gang members looked at each other hesitantly, and then Allan offered, "I will do it."
With an amused look, Robin nodded, and handed the headgear to Allan. All the while Mark asked with a worried look, "Are you aware of the risks? If Guyline catches you-"
"Don't worry." Allan intercepted as he stared at the headgear, "Party at my aunt's."
"You are a brave man." Mark admired with a smile.
"Well…" Allan shrugged as he avoided Mark's stare, for he knew he didn't deserve the praise; he was a traitor.
"Well then, the Sheriff expects me to show myself at Gisborne's." Mark stated. He then smiled at Allan and said, "Good luck."
Allan smiled back wearily, for Mark wasn't making his other mission any simpler. He was in a dilemma. He had never imagined that betraying the gang would be this hard, especially now that a little boy's life was at risk. Fortunately, his dilemma was soon to come to an end that evening.
Once Mark was at Locksley, he was allowed in by one of the servants.
Meanwhile, Guyline was examining the armor that was molded by the foreign blacksmith. It was molded using a special Damascus steel, which was supposed to make the armor invincible.
As soon as Mark had laid his eyes on Guyline's visage, he was stunned. She was in a blue dress, and her jet-black hair was let loose and it cascaded up to her waist. He had never seen her in a dress, though it was rather casual, nor had he seen her with her hair flowing over her shoulders, framing her petit face. As he walked closer, he let out an awkward laugh; she looked less intimidating, and exceptionally breathtaking. This had rendered him both speechless and flustered.
When Guyline had noticed the arrival of her unexpected guest, with the armor still in her hand, she looked at him questionably.
Mark felt awkward and the sudden need to apologize, "Forgive me." He felt like he had stepped onto a sight that he wasn't yet privileged to see.
Whereas Guyline seemed uninterested by her guest's prompt visit, as she nonchalantly stated, "Mark, it's late. What is so urgent?"
Still nervous, and taken by her rare sight, Mark replied, "I wish to speak to you." Then he looked at the servant that was aiding Guyline, and added, "In a personal matter."
She looked at him with detached eyes, and then nodded for the servant to leave. Once alone, she walked to Mark, and asked, "Yeah, What is it?"
Mark became more nervous by the proximity, and his eyes kept fluttering around not knowing where to look as he said, "There is bad blood between us."
Guyline scoffed, and looked to her side.
"Please, Guyline." Mark pleaded.
"You overestimate yourself." Guyline retorted as she darted her piercing gaze toward Mark, "I used to love you, but no anymore. Now I feel nothing. I have further, greater concerns, ambitions."
"Is there no hope for conciliation?" Mark pressed, "I know you're a woman capable of compassion." He took a step closer, and held his hand out for her, "I offer… I offer you friendship." He added as he thought carefully of his word choice.
Guyline looked at the offered hand, oh how she longed for his touch. She might have said those words, yet she knew they were out of hurt. And that she still, and would always love him. She grabbed his hand with her delicate one, and looked at him with hope-filled eyes, for she had sensed a bit of sincerity in his.
Mark was confused by his sudden desires for the woman grabbing his hand ever so tenderly. For the first time since he had met her, she stirred him, and he had no idea why. Unfortunately, those feelings disappeared as abrupt as they had appeared, and Guyline saw his confusion written all over his face. She squeezed his hand worriedly, and asked "What?"
"I don't know." Mark's anxious reply was. He had seen Robin lurking behind the shadows, eavesdropping at their conversation, and was forced back to reality.
"Mark, what is this all about?" Guyline pressed as she sensed Mark's sudden change in demeanor.
"It is about friendship. That is all." Mark replied as he looked away.
"No." She replied as she caressed his cheek, "Humph. This isn't about friendship. This is about your freedom."
At her prompt accusation, Mark pulled back his hand. He was upset. His visit might have had a different goal in mind, yet he had found himself softening up to her, and he genuinely felt sorry for his previous deceitful acts.
On the other hand, Guyline was taken by Mark's withdrawal. The moment he pulled back his hand, she clutched hers with regret. She wished for nothing more than to take back all what she had said, and bury her self into his embrace. However, she would never bend her pride, not after what he had done to her; the humiliation he had caused her the day he left her standing alone at the altar. No, she would rather be the wicked one, and keep up her egoistic façade.
A sudden knock interrupted them. Guyline was aggravated by it, yet a bit thankful for being pulled out of this unwelcomed turn of events. She stood in her place, looking at the back of the man she yearned for as he left, and let out a breath that she hadn't notice that she had been withholding. And, almost instantly, with no one left in the room, all the emotions she had been concealing had flooded her face. Hurt, betrayal, and heartbreak.
All the while, none of them knew that there was a fourth body that had been observing the situation too.
Allan A' Dale was secretly concealed by the darkness, observing his, rather sudden, love interest as she spoke with the man she loved.
"Humph. What an amazing actor you are, Mark." Allan mumbled to himself in contempt. He hated how Mark kept feigning interest in Guyline, giving her absent hope.
"God, Guyline! When will you realize this charade?" He scowled as he saw her grabbing Mark's hand keenly, and hope rising in her captivating, blue eyes. Oh, how he loathed Mark at that instant. Fortunately, one of the servants interrupted them on the account of the Sheriff's message, and Allan was relieved. However, it was only momentarily, for once Mark had left, he saw what he would have never anticipated; a tear fleeing Guyline's precious eyes. Her face showed genuine hurt, but still Lady Gisborne refused to give in to such emotions. The moment that tear trickled down her cheek, she had wiped it away with quite determination.
While Allan had been absolutely astonished by the tear, he was even more baffled by her latter reaction.
"What a strong lady. I shouldn't have expected any less." He laughed bitterly, and wondered what kind of a past had forged this strong-willed lady.
It was at that moment that his dilemma was no more, and he was determined to let her on to Robin's plan. For Robin had so many allies, he reasoned, while Guyline had none but herself. And so he decided to be hers, even if she had no trust for him.
"Well then, it's time for my move." Allan grinned cheekily. He had never been this sure about any decision his entire life. Nonetheless, Allan gave Guyline a few minutes to gather her composure, and then proceeded with Mark's plan, but with his own little twists in mind.
"What now?" Guyline sneered, when she hear another knock.
"A-a castle guard is here to see you, My Lady." A servant stammered as he showed the guard in, and scurried away.
"I already got the Sheriff's message." Guyline stated dismissively, as she stared at the fireplace.
"So you wouldn't want to know what Robin is planning, eh?" Allan asked rhetorically.
"Allan?" Guyline inquired, as she turned on her heels.
"Miss me, my Lady?" He smirked, but was taken aback, as she fully faced him. Earlier, he was barely able to see her face, but now she was right in front of him, in her full glory.
"Tell me you got me something worth it this time." She exclaimed, and approached him eagerly.
"I-I…" Allan stammered nervously. His heart was racing, she was so beautiful, and he couldn't look anywhere else. He wanted to wrap his hands around her tiny waist, lock his lips onto her soft ones, and run his fingers through her silky, raven hair.
"What?" Guyline grimaced.
"Could you like…tie your hair?" Allan scowled, and looked away promptly, "It's distracting."
Guyline face twitched in dismay, and as she grabbed a pin to fasten her hair, she said, "If you are wasting my time. I swear-"
"Aah, spare me the threats. I got you something really good this time." Allan intercepted her, as he glanced at the dinner table, trying not to get sidetracked by her. He sat down, and started eating as he explained to her Mark's plan and why he was sent here. But of course, he didn't forget to leave the Mark part out.
"And how did you, lot, managed to get the order?" Guyline questioned suspiciously.
Allan stared at her for a while; somehow she had always managed to ask the good questions. He honestly wanted to tell her about Mark, and his charades, but thought that he might end up hurting her much more than doing her any good. And hurting her was the last thing he wanted do.
"I dunno. Robin managed somehow." He lied, "They will get suspicious if I keep sniffing around where I'm not supposed to."
And Guyline seemed to agree to that, "So, your plan fails. What will Robin do?" She then asked, knowing that Robin always had a back-up plan.
"What's its worth?" Allan asked, and Guyline waved a pouch of coins in response.
Subsequently, Allan explained Robin's back-up plan, and as he finished he added, "Hey, Guyline?"
"Yeah?" She answered as she paced around with a victorious smirk.
"You do know I'm here for you?" Allan muttered timidly.
Guyline stopped pacing, and frowned at Allan, "What? I can't hear you."
"Nothing." Allan sighed, and cursed his cowardice.
"Here." She turned, and threw him a few coins, "Eat your fill, and leave. I don't want anyone to see you around here. And Allan?"
"Yeah?" Allan replied as he munched on a piece of bread.
"What would you tell Robin?" She asked curiously.
"Oh, that's easy. You recognized me. We brawled. And of course, I won, and you dispatched the guards." He replied cheekily, "What can I say, you are in a dress."
"Really?" Guyline smirked, and then smacked Allan across the face.
"Hey! What was that for?!" Allan exclaimed, as he rubbed his cheek.
"Believability." Guyline grinned wickedly.
A/N: I love that last line by Guy! He looks so damn hot when he said! *squeals*
If you enjoyed this, please leave a review it will really encourage me. And do check my other RH stories.