Marian woke in the pale darkness before morning. She had not slept well, her father had still been coughing much in the night and each time she was awakened she had debated whether or not to go to him. He was such a proud man, and she didn't want him to know how much his coughs disturbed her sleep, or how much she worried about him. They may have fought in her childhood and adolescence, but when Robin left, he had been the only person she could rely on. And now he needed her, Robin had to come second now. It was only fair.

She dressed in the darkness and snuck out her window, her dress making it difficult to make it to the ground safely. But she could not risk being seen as the Night Watchman today, not when tensions were already so high with the death of the sheep and that ridiculous excuse for a purveyor lurking around. She was ready to do some lurking herself. She crept down the familiar road to Locksley, preferring to go on foot rather than risk waking someone in the house by going to the stables and saddling her horse. By the time she reached the outskirts of Locksley she felt easily more at peace. Even though Locksley had more recent painful memories, she was never able to shake the feeling that as she crested the last small hill and looked down on the town, that she had come home.

Marian casually strolled through a few pastures before coming to a barn that was still far from the town's center. She was immediately assaulted by a horrible smell of rotting meat. She rushed into the barn and choked on the fetid air that surrounded her. There were vats of blood, some congealed and some fresh, which flies flickered over and around lazily. Hanging from the ceiling were two sheep's carcasses, hanging over the vat of freshest blood. Her stomach turned as she saw a rusty carving knife on a stool nearby, and the animal detritus on the ground at her feet. 'I guess I've found the place then,' she thought to herself. She hastily left the barn, dusting off her clothes and wiping off her hands on the grass, feeling like she was dirty just from stepping in the place.

The thunder rolled in the distance as she set off for home again; feeling satisfied to have at least some information to tell Robin if and when he ever decided he needed her again and came by for the news. She still seethed at the thought of their recent argument. As she walked along, as she came up a pleasant hillside, she saw a familiar dark figure standing there. She grimaced and bravely continued, preparing her best Maid Marian smile.

"Good morning, Sir Guy," she murmured as she passed before the place he stood.

"A bit early for a pleasure stroll isn't it?" his voice deep and his face shrouded in the darkness.

She paused on the path, biting her lip to maintain patience.

"Or is this stroll not a pleasurable one for you?" Guy asked, still staring into the storm clouds in the dark early morning sky.

"You guess right I believe. I see you are deep in thought, I will leave you." She turned to go.

Guy took a deep breath, "Marian."

She waited and turned to face him as he stood with his arms crossed, but now meeting her gaze.

"I'm sorry," he said finally, staring deep into her eyes.

"Sir Guy?"

She saw his jaw clench. "For everything. I have been…" his deep voice trailed off, softer than a whisper.

She took a step towards him, seeing him tense as she approached. She stopped and suddenly realized what she was doing. As she stopped, he took two steps towards her.

He opened his mouth to speak but she stopped him, "Please, don't say any more. I understand."

She couldn't bring herself to say the words 'I forgive you', but she hoped that he could see it in her eyes.

"I want you to trust me," he said, "I want us to be friends."

"It's a bit hard to trust a pawn of the Sheriff's. I must go."

Guy lunged out and grabbed her arm and drew her closer. His voice was barely still above a whisper. The look in his eye was ardent but cold.

"I'm the one who's been killing the sheep. The Sheriff has hired the purveyor as a new source of income to balance out the debt. But there's something else…" he paused and looked to the ground, breaking his gaze from hers.

After a few moments he looked up and continued, "There was a boy. When I went to kill the…animals…I…found…a shepherd boy. He was dead."

Marian nodded. He spoke again, louder this time, his grip tightening on her arm, "You must believe me, it wasn't my fault."

"I do believe you, Sir Guy," she tried to turn from his hold.

"Marian," he whispered. She turned back at the way he spoke her name and suddenly became lost in his eyes. They seemed so sad, and filled with a quiet anger and hurt that she understood.

He leaned in closer and brushed the loose strands of hair from her face. She felt the warmth of his breath on her face and froze, desire and conscience fighting within her. One coherent thought surfaced, she had to tell Robin. She looked down.

"I…must be going. My father is…"

Her voice trailed off and she felt Guy release her arm.

"I won't keep you then."

She turned, and began to walk home, her heart pounding in her chest. As soon as she was far enough away from him she began to run, not once looking back at the lone figure atop the hill. She told herself she was running to get out of the brewing storm, but that wasn't the real reason and she knew it.