The day had arrived at last in all its glory. Mild fog danced on the ground as a light mist found its way down, the morning clouds beginning to thin out. The wheels of Gisborne's carriage hopped from rock to rock and cut through soft earth, the sheer curtains on the doors jostling with the motion. He found himself antsy but with a tingling anticipation coursing through his veins. He knew the guests and employees would already be at the grounds, the stands assembled and prepared, everything in its place. Guy's blue eyes wandered across the carriage to Lucy. She nibbled her bottom lip with excitement and watched as the grass along the route passed by.

"Guy, please, tell me where we're going." She grinned with a childish giddiness. She leaned forward in her seat with pleading in her eyes. Gisborne watched as the gold lace trim on her charcoal dress rose up and down with her breasts on the uneven terrain, his eagerness getting higher. He only had the honor of her body once, two months ago, but he never stopped wishing she would welcome sexual advances a second time. But there was hope yet; today was Valentine's Day. He had been courting her for six months. And after today, he would astound her beyond her wildest dreams.

"You're going to find out soon enough." His lips tightened to seal in the secret. After a few more minutes the cart rolled to a halt with horse whinnying replacing the sound of churning wheels. Guy commanded her to stay put for him to retrieve her from the other side. He slipped out of the door and scanned the arena. Once he was convinced it was put together to a satisfactory point, he firmly gripped the door handle and led out his date. Quickly, he placed his gloved hands over her eyes and led her forward to the front gate. Lucy shuffled with curiosity; she could hear foot traffic and horses, sense the beat of drums, and feel the cool fresh air.

"Are you ready for your gift?" Came his low voice from behind her.

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

"Yes! Just let me see already."

"Alright." Guy kissed the side of her head as he removed his palms, revealing his master plan. In the background was a sheet of trees from the edge of Sherwood Forest, and tall wooden stands filled with spectators from all around the satellite towns of Nottingham. In the middle of the ribbons and audience stood a long wooden median with jousters securing chainmail and plates to their animals. At the center of the semi-circle seating stood a distinguished stand with two small thrones, wine, and small cheeses and fruits. Lucy's green eyes shone as they bugged huge from their sockets, eyebrows perched high, jaw frozen open as she pasted her palms over her mouth. She looked to Guy whose smile was composed of sparkling teeth, fine wrinkles, and pleasure at seeing her reaction. She looked back to the jousting festival that had been unfolded at her feet before returning again to Gisborne's delighted face.

"You did this?"

"I did."

"I mean, all of this. The entire faire?"

"For you, yes." Gisborne removed her shocked hands cupping her lips and escorted her through the grounds. Red rose petals adorned the walkways and couples were trading flowers and trinkets on either side of them. Faint drums and lutes hummed tunes through the air. Keeping with party tradition, several patrons wandered with strips of paper pinned to their sleeves, a random name drawn from a bowl scrawled across it, spelling out the name of their destined valentine. Gisborne always considered that game fit for children, but he felt Lucy's hand squeeze in excitement as the bowl came to them on the sidewalk.

"My lord, my lady. We have names from everyone in the villages. Who is your valentine?" The redheaded woman greeted them before extending the bowl to Lucy. With a painfully huge grin she fished her slender hand inside and shuffled the paper until pulling the exact one she felt was right. The blonde unwrapped it and squealed, waving the strip in the air.

"Sir Guy of Gisborne!" She giggled, flashing the name to her handsome beau. Lucy plucked a second piece on his behalf and forked it into his chest, bouncing on her toes bursting to know what it said. With mild embarrassment Guy indulged her and took the paper, looking into her eyes as he unfolded it. Marian of Knighton. His nose crunched up in disgust with a steely glare, his stomach flipping over and kicking up disapproval. Suddenly the fun was assassinated. Gisborne snatched the note from Lucy's hand and threw them both into the dirt before pulling her on to their seats.

"Who was it?"

"Nobody I knew." He lied with bitterness. Guy shook his head as he climbed the steps to their private stand and tried to rattle all the thoughts of guilt and frustration out of his tortured mind. Today was not about him or Marian, he remembered, but rather Lucy. His hand gently fit into the small of her back as he helped lower her into her cushioned chair at the end of the field. Guy gave her a goblet beside a wink before sitting himself, flagging to the trumpet player that the couple were ready for entertainment.

Fanfares barreled as jousters lined up and adjusted their iron visors. The banners of yellow and black, the crest of Gisborne, marked the field where the games began. Individual players shot their lances to collect dangling rings, narrowly missing or succeeding, to the cheers of the crowd. Cutely Lucy peeked over to Guy who watched her pop a grape in her mouth flirtatiously with a whimsical giggle afterwards. His cool eyes did not leave her even after she shyly turned her head. Lucy was lured in by his seductive stare to the point where she only halfway watched the jousters pound their weapons into targets. Time slithered on as the couple teased each other further without a single word.

"Guy," Lucy eventually said over the music and sports, "I can't believe you did this all for me. It's too much!"

"There is no such thing as too much for you. No expense is too high, no jewelry too grand… Besides, I thought you may want to see the wealth and the title that could one day be yours." Gisborne hinted to her. She bit her lip and looked out over everything; it had never been a secret to them that his power attracted Lucy and his status turned her on. Unlike other women in England, Guy harbored no doubt that she would love him for richer or for poorer. But the rush he got off of spoiling the young girl perked up the hairs on his neck. He felt such a thrill from seeing the gleam of pride and recognition she looked at him with. Lucy admired him each time he looked down into her sweet face and he simply could not let that go.

The games on the field yielded a winner and now the men organized themselves for the true attraction: the duels. Announcers pepped up the crowd and ignited the competition before watching for Guy of Gisborne's signal to begin. Boasting with vanity, Gisborne stood and examined the audience that all hung on his most minute motions and phrases. Turning to Lucy, he felt like a god.

"Men!" he shouted over the arena with arms in the air, "Let this be the greatest battle you have fought in your lives. Know that you may be winners, you may be scarred, you may be killed. But you will be charging man to man, lance to lance for the sake of the young women of Nottingham. For their hearts. For their approval. And, most importantly, for the honor of this gorgeous girl, Lucy, the Lady Gisborne," he snuck his hand to his pocket, "… if she will have me."

Guy turned on his heel and knelt down to his knee, barely feeling the cold wooden floor beneath him as his heart and lungs raced faster and faster, nearly trying to outdo each other. Between his fingers he offered Lucy a ring – a gorgeous ring. The center stone was a magnificent emerald that matched her eyes, outer gems being sparkling sapphires and smaller emeralds. She could find no words as joyous tears rushed up into her eyes. Her pink lips trembled just as much as her fingers when Guy slowly took her unsteady hand and slid his ring onto her; the stones shimmered against her creamy pale skin. Lucy launched off of her seat and wrapped herself around Guy, both of them on their knees, and cried until she could no longer recover her breath. It took time before she could form any syllables.

"Yes, yes! Guy. Yes! I love you, yes." As she sobbed the horns screamed and started up the most gruesome and popular game of jousting. Gisborne peeled her quaking body from him and held her tightly by the shoulders, kissing her mouth with adoration and appetite. He found himself transfixed yet again by the heaving of her round, perky breasts as she leaned against him and attempted to settle down. They were his, she was his, this life he had crafted in his head could be his. He had clawed from the gutters of hell up walls of anguish and pain to grasp at success, money, and notoriety. Now he had a wife, children, a warm body that craved only to please him. Guy of Gisborne no longer felt like a god – he was one.

"I will always take care of you," he ran his thumb on her round prominent cheek, "and I swear, Lucy, I will never hurt you. I have the wealth and I have the status to give you the life you always dreamed of."

"I don't need money to love you."

"But I want you to have it. You are my world," Guy whispered as their foreheads pressed together, "Our life will be as beautiful as you are. I swear it." He clutched her golden head to his chest and bestowed her with kisses, vowing that nothing, and no one, would get in his way to remain divine.