*** Sincere apologies, all you wonderful people! I have spent the past several weeks going through Europe and have not had the time (or internet connection!) to keep this story up. I am back, though, so here we go! ***

"But I want to go horse riding! Why don't I get to go? It's not fair!" Elizabeth set down her feather quill with defiance, her murky blonde hair swaying as she popped out her chin. Sherriff Gisborne's stare did not waver.

"Because I asked you to finish your alphabet this morning and instead you put it off. Besides, I already taught you to ride."

"But I want to go; I am a big girl and I ought to be able to decide."

"You're six," her father chuckled, "you've got a while before that." Lovingly he cupped a palm behind her head. Libby had grown in a mystical flash of smoke and her brothers were not far off in their progress; her face was very round with popping cheeks and shaded sandy blonde hair. Guy had no doubt that she would grow to resemble Lucy in an impeccable way. He was consistently pressed back with pride and shock that each of his three children were blossoming individual interests, tastes, and personalities. If it weren't for so much screaming and crying he would be craving to return them to infancy.

"Mum lets me pick my own outfits."

"Very nice. I tell you what, finish up and have your mother bring you to meet us in the field, yeah?"

"Okay!"

"But you must finish your writing practices."

"Fine." Libby pouted her lips theatrically and hunkered back down to her parchment. Her mind was as mentally sharp as a razor, absorbing literacy with ease. Gisborne felt his skin washed with pride as he no doubt accredited her intelligence and wit to his genes. With one last pat on the head he left his only daughter to her studies. Guy traveled through the cool stony corridors of his fortress, wound down the steps, and arrived to his other giddy offspring at the stables. His boys were quick to hand select the stallions they wished to train with; both of them opted for brown horses with trailing, wispy manes. A smile crept along his lips as the men led their animals around the fortress walls to a field that lie just north of the castle.

In the warm breeze of late spring tall grasses danced with the air, their tips stroking the stone walls of Nottingham castle that served as a backdrop for the afternoon ride. Gisborne gently assisted each toddler onto the saddles of their respective companions, their weight a surprise to him as their growth rocketed, and took a gentle hold of the reins. The sons of Gisborne were all smiles underneath thin clouds as they focused to remain stable on the horse's spine. Guy strolled casually backwards, hands leading both animals along, and observed the excitement gobble up his children. Each of his kids boasted the sharp blue eyes he did, their stares captivating. The twins also shared his raven hair, Alec choosing to grow his longer in mimic of his dad's shoulder length curls. They all suffered from the hard-nosed starvation for competition, which was no doubt harbored in his DNA, but Lucy argued that it was his nurturing that led them all to find a champion in each task. Someone always cleaned their supper plate first, or one of them would get dressed the fastest; their mother thought it ridiculous, but Guy adored it. The family encroached upon the shade of a walnut tree that danced across blades of grass.

"I'm gonna name mine Chestnut." Drake affirmed with a sturdy tap on the animal's ribs.

"Well then mine is Oakey." Alec added.

"They already have names." Guy bluntly stated, failing to recognize his extinguishment of their childish imaginations.

"But I want it to be Chestnut."

"Yeah, I like Chestnut."

"Mm-hmm." The brothers agreed. Their team formed against their father in no time, which led him to roll his icy blue eyes with amusement.

"Fine. But who do you think is faster?"

"Oh, definitely Oakey." Long haired Alec claimed with a chest full of certainty. Drake slapped on a slapstick degree of shock.

"No, it's Chestnut!"

"Oakey has longer legs!"

"Chestnut has bigger feet!"

"There's only one way to find out," smirked Guy of Gisborne as he handed off the reins to his children, "Race back to the wall?"

"Not much of a race, cause I'm gonna win."

"Oh, uh-uh, Alec!"

"Now boys, remember how to stop? You have to pull these really, really hard, okay? Make sure to stop… your mum will kill me if you break yourselves in half." With a wink the Sherriff let them loose, slapping the flanks of the horses to set off the race. The black haired boys were launched away on the compact muscles of the stallions, the sound of hooves pressing into the field with fervor, their cheers of ecstasy carrying away on the wings of the breeze. When they reached the approximate half way mark of the track Elizabeth and Lucy made their appearance, their soft femininity matching the scene of spring, their cheers adding in to the mix. In the last of the heated moments Chestnut tore paces ahead, his nostrils flaring and gaping for oxygen, his victory quite clear. Drake yanked in the horse and came to a halt with his hands in the air; Alec, meanwhile, pulled his ride to a stop before even hitting the finish line. Clumsily he scrambled off of the saddle and ignored the rest of his family. He threw his riding gloves to the ground and began to stamp away towards the fortress.

"Oh, now honey," Lucy cooed him as she brushed away locks of his hair, "You did so well! I'm so proud. Your balance is so great!"

"Doesn't matter." He muttered, pulling out of his mother's touch.

"Of course it does, doing your best is –"

"Just stop, it doesn't matter what you say."

"Hey," Gisborne barked as he approached, a stiff finger pointed to Alec, "You do not ever speak to your mother that way, do you understand me?"

"Who cares if I'm good at it? Drake's better at horse riding, he's better at spelling, and he's going to be Sherriff anyways! You don't care and neither do I!" His small hands were balled into clenched fists as he tore away in a sprint, his footsteps drawing him back to the castle. Elizabeth feigned distraction with her victorious sibling.

"Oh hell no." Guy muttered as his brows furrowed; after only two steps his wife intervened and laid her hands to his chest. Lucy stared into his face knowingly and with a dash of persecution, as if the toddler's tantrum held weight. It made him crinkle his nose more.

"Guy we need to speak to him."

"What do you think I'm –"

"Not yell at him, speak to him." She clarified with a strength that lied beneath a veil of her sweet tone. The past five years had been kind to her skin; she still held the childish smile that could pull Gisborne from his waves of emotion. Lucy put her hand on his cheek and grinned meekly. Age and authority had marked her husband differently. His face was still strong, his stare piercing, but now the fine wrinkles that used to cradle his eyes framed them with distinction.

"Alright." He conceded with a similar attitude to Alec's outburst. Lucy hadn't even a whiff of doubt from where her son's mood swings were rooted; he was the spitting image of his father in more ways than one. When the married couple made their way into Alec's bedroom the smoke of anger that had whirled around Guy dissipated among the toy soldiers and wood carved Roman chariots. The boy sat upon a pillow of his own sulk in one of the corners, his hands fiddling with a replica horse; he was hitting another horse figure into the ground. Lucy did not hesitate to squat beside him, small curls from her hair dripping down to brush his shoulder. Alec pretended not to notice, but became clearly frustrated as Gisborne took a chair from the desk and joined them.

"What's all this nonsense then, my dear?" She sweetly hummed while brushing away a wrinkle from her lilac gown. Her son watched as the ripple of the fabric vanished.

"I don't want to learn horse riding anymore."

"Why's that? I think your posture is fantastic."

"Dad can keep teaching Drake."

"It's no fun without you." Guy chipped in, his calloused hand grabbing one of the tin soldiers from the floor; Alec recoiled his toy away from his father's.

"You're angry that Drake is in line to be Sherriff before you?" Lucy threw her guess at the dartboard and, based on his expression, hit the bulls eye, "It isn't anything you did. He was born about half an hour before you were, sweetheart. There's nothing wrong with you."

"But Dad wants to train him to be the best Sherriff; what am I there for? Drake's his favorite anyways."

"That's not true," Gisborne immediately dropped the toy, "I do not have a favorite… I dislike all of you equally," Lucy giggled at his humor as the joked zipped over the boy's head, "Look, I might have said something wrong. Maybe I mention the inheritance too much. There's nothing about your brother that makes me love him more than you… you need to know that."

"See? You're just being a bit silly is all." The blonde mother wrapped her arm around his shoulder.

"You may very well be Sherriff one day, too. I'm counting on you, Alec."

"Yeah, cause one day Drake might die like our dog Charlie did. Then you're in." Came Libby's voice from the door, her head poking into the chamber. Her father shot a stern glare to the eavesdropper.

"Elizabeth!" he scolded before she shrunk away. With another glance to his son, Guy patted his shoulder, "Told you I dislike all of you the same."