Nottingham Dungeons

Maggie had spent the night curled up with her brothers, keeping an ear on the conversation held between Guy and Archer. She hadn't tried to directly engage him in conversation; every time she had she'd been either out rightly ignored or glared at. She supposed it was because she wasn't trying to hide her feelings towards him and because he obviously couldn't remember her or why she felt that way towards him he was using a defense of anger and aloofness. While she understood this it still didn't stop the sting she felt every time he seemed to look right through her.

The boys were holding up fairly well, though their spirits were just as crushed as her own. She made no gallant effort to remain optimistic, she was more of a realist in any case. The boys knew the odds both for and against their survival and as such were doing their best to make the most of their time alive. They did not complain, even when their stomachs growled with hunger, and they also did not try to engage Guy in conversation. They took their cues from Maggie.

Kate and Allen was much the same they had been the night before. Kate had remained "pleasant" towards them, and had only made a few snide comments to Guy when Archer hadn't been able to answer a question and she'd felt the need to supply one. Allan was able to move around on his own, though his face was quite swollen along with his shoulders and knees.

It was now close to midday, and they'd passed the morning much as they'd passed the night, with Guy asking questions and either Archer or Kate and Allen answering. Only a few short moments ago had they fallen silent just as the rain outside had ceased. Maggie knew that something terribly was going to happen, and soon. She hadn't stopped praying though, that somehow they would all be saved—though she wasn't opposed to Kate getting another thrashing in the whole saving process.

Ben coughed beside her, drawing Maggie's attention to her brothers again. She didn't want to die anymore than anyone else but she would rather die than her brothers. They were still so young and had their whole lives ahead of them. Her death would be waste enough, but theirs would be horrific.

Guy grunted from pain as he shifted in position. Maggie looked up and found his gaze centered on her. When he noticed her gaze returning his he stiffened and quickly looked away. She saw him frown and sighed. If only he could remember their time together…

Guy made an effort to keep from staring at HER. The night had been a harrowing one. His self-proclaimed half-brother had explained things well enough, and Kate and Allan had tossed in their two-pence worth as well. The woman and the boys had remained silent, somehow waiting for something. Perhaps it was his death. Or perhaps they were waiting for his recognition. In any case, he couldn't remember them, and in a way he was glad of it. Facing death was never pleasant and he much preferred death while knowing that no one would be left behind to mourn him.

Guy rubbed his hand against his head; it had not stopped hurting, nor had his gut stopped churning at the sight of the woman and those boys. He supposed he should stop calling them that. They had introduced themselves so he did know their names. He found that he didn't want to say them though. In a strange way, he didn't want to remember them. It was obvious from the pained looks on their faces that his mere presence was moving to them and when he died, they would suffer, that much he was certain of. He would rather not remember the specific whys that would be.

Guy was jarred out of his musings at the appearance of a few guards. Apparently, it was time. After a late morning shower, they'd deemed it fit enough for an execution after all. He carefully rose to his feet, mindful that moving too quickly always made his head spin. Archer also stood and faced the door.

No one spoke as they were pulled from the cell. However, Guy's legs gave out from him and he tumbled to the ground in front of the adjacent cell. As the guards reached down to haul him up again he felt something warm brush against his cheek. He glanced sideways and saw Magdalen O' Connor crouching nearby, her hand hovering in the air between his face and the bars. He saw tears in her eyes and found that despite his insistence upon not remembering her, the sight of her pain made his entire body shiver with apprehension.

As the guards picked him up he swore he heard her whisper his name. The way she looked at him and the way his name was a near prayer on her lips, he knew that she loved him. For whatever reason this woman, this obviously innocent and caring woman, loved him. He didn't know what he'd done in the time span he couldn't remember, but surely he hadn't done anything so redeeming to deserve this woman's love. He knew he was a cold-hearted bastard without a redeemable bone in his body. To think that a woman like this loved him, it was startling.

He continued to watch her as they lead him from the dungeon, catching sight of the boys crowding around their sister, each of their faces awash with deep sorrow as well. He'd been a part of that family, to such a degree that they were expressing pain at his departure. He could barely remember what it was like to feel such love and warmth towards someone, such openness and vulnerability.

Even with Marian, it had not been true devotion. It had been spurned out of jealousy for Robin and then blossomed into a desire to possess something beautiful at the end; it had never been completely full of trust. He'd tried to find redemption through her and only ended up destroying the one thing he'd thought could save him. With this woman and these boys, however, he could see that whatever had transpired between them had not been a desperate attempt at redemption, nor had it been a selfish desire to possess. Whatever it had been, it had been true.

"That's why I find it easier to wine them and dine them than leave them and grieve them."

Guy turned to his half brother, "What?"

"You're leaving behind a family while I'm leaving behind no one. While it could be considered a waste that no one will be left to mourn me, I find it satisfying to think that I was free enough in life to be free enough in death." Archer shrugged against the guard's holds.

"I do not know those people." Guy spoke through clenched teeth. "I have no recollection of my time with them."

Archer heaved a dramatic sigh, "Well that is a shame. From what I understand, you've been with them ever since your sister-imposed accident. Three months is plenty of time to develop fairly strong ties between people."

"You don't have to remind me." Guy glared at the taller man. "Now, since we are both about to die, I would rather die in silence than with your voice prattling on about matters that don't concern you."

"As you wish." Archer shrugged again.

They followed their guards in silence until they were brought before the great steps leading up to the hall of the castle. There was quite a gathering, despite the murky weather about, with Vasey and Isabella both looking as if they'd dressed for royalty as they stood at the top of the steps, eyes gleaming with triumph. Upon reflection, Guy could not quite pinpoint the moment he'd "betrayed" his sister to such a point that she'd willingly condemn him to death. He understood a merciful poisoning but this…this was the type of death you dealt to a strange enemy, not a family member.

Vasey began a long-winded speech, all of which Guy purposefully tuned out. He did not want to die with Vasey's taunts in his head. As the guards set Archer in position while he remained at the foot of the stairs, Guy allowed his mind to wander over the events that had brought him here. He had regrets, he believed all men had them, but he was not the type to suffer over his regrets, aside from killing Marion of course. He admitted to them and was willing to move on. However, now that his neck was about to stretch, there was no moving on from here.

"For the crimes of treason," his sister was the one reading out his verdict, her voice momentarily taking him back to their childhood, to the days he'd promised to protect her no matter what, the days she'd been happy, "Sir Guy of Gisborn is hereby sentenced to hang from the neck until dead. For the crimes of extortion," the list of crimes went on, each resulting in a sentence of death.

After Isabella finished reading from the list of verdicts, Guy was hauled up onto the platform and hurriedly tied in. Vasey then read off a short list of outlandish crimes against Archer, though considering the man Archer appeared to be, the charges were probably not too farfetched. When he finished with his list, again each crime resulting in a death sentence, the hangman moved aside to the lever.

"Do you have any last words dear brother?" Isabella finally addressed him personally, her eyes as cold as her heart as she stared down at him.

Guy refrained from straining against the noose and his bonds, "I do not." There would be no use to say anything now anyway.

"And do you?" She looked at Archer with obvious disdain.

"It's been an adventure," Archer began, "and I would like-"

Vasey cut off Archer's speech by signaling the hangman who in turn pulled the lever. Guy gasped as his body began to fall towards the ground, death again coming up to greet him.