Notes:

After years of writing Guy of Gisborne/OC fanfiction, I felt at a loss for something new to say, but then at some point I began to indulge an old whim...

Guy and Marian.

I know, I know, they don't fit, they're poles apart, there's no way, it cannot be...

but...

what if?

Their chemistry was undeniable and I can't help but feel that many of Guy's best scenes were whilst conflicted about Marian.

So yes, this is it: my attempt to capture the 'what if'. I wasn't brave enough till now and it's down to support from kind readers that I could be so brave at all.

The title tells you all you need to know here, the actual act of getting to Acre was always glossed over on the show but the idea intrigued me and in exploring it, I found the spark of inspiration that had previously eluded me.

I shall say no more, but before the story begins, I would like to say a big thank you to all who are so kind as to give me feedback on my work. There are times when it's all uphill getting the story the way you want it and kindness works wonders when you're struggling.

Cheers.

Disclaimer: all BBC Robin Hood characters and the show are the property of the BBC and Tiger Aspect Productions.

The Journey To Acre

Chapter 1

It rained for days.

How many, Sir Guy of Gisborne did not know, but enough for him to feel that perhaps they were at the end of the world. Vaisey would accuse him of being melodramatic here, but looking out at the drizzly mist that enveloped their boat, it was impossible to see where the dull grey of the sky ended and the cold grey of the sea began.

The consensus amongst the crew, the colourful collection of souls in charge of their vessel - the Mary Peel, was that the weather was always like this in the English Channel. Guy begged to differ; he'd taken this journey before and last time it had not been the case, but as he was soon to discover, nothing would be the same this time around.

In a way, it was fitting that the weather was so miserable; all else in his life was cheerless so why should this be any different? He sighed and turned his gaze to Marian - her stoic visage belying her dire situation – the heavy chains binding her to the hold the only sign of her misstep: the ill-judged attempt upon Vaisey's life.

That she lived was a wonder. It could so easily have turned out differently. Indeed, all others who'd tried to murder the sheriff had not been so fortunate. Guy wondered that his volatile master hadn't murdered her directly. He was, of course, ridiculously grateful that it hadn't happened, but this unexpected move put him on edge and he couldn't help but feel that the old man was merely toying with his prey before inflicting the terminal blow. After all, it was a way of punishing him too wasn't it? He'd gone to great lengths to keep her identity as the Nightwatchman secret (before blurting it out in a moment of guilt-ridden madness) and Vaisey was sure to make him pay for it, the only question was how far would he go?

Then there was the matter of Allan-a-Dale's desertion. Part of him couldn't blame the turncoat for doing only what came naturally and bailing on them now that things were getting serious, but that was largely ignored in favour of the stinging disappointment that accompanied the knowledge of whom he'd deserted them for, and though Robin Hood was most probably dead at the hands of Vaisey's mercenaries by now, that Allan had chosen to go back to him still hurt all the same.

It was Marian's stare that brought him out of his reverie. Her defiant curiosity. She had no right to act so high and mighty after the move she'd pulled, but then she always did like to push him where she could. A wiser man would keep his distance, but then he'd always been a fool for her and everyone knew it. All of their interactions were tainted now, so much of what he'd thought had meant something had meant nothing; she had used him, lied to him, and worst of all, in what could only be described as an act of pure insanity, put both their necks on the line by attacking Vaisey. There was simply no going back from that.

He rose abruptly, disgusted at how pitiful he was being, fixing her with a glare of frustration before leaving for deck.

Staring out at the rain was better than this.

Sometimes, at night, Marian would find herself in tears.

Ordinarily, her stubborn nature forbade her from letting things get on top of her, but here on the boat, nothing was ordinary was it? As prisoner here, she had all the time in the world to dwell on her sorry situation and no way to distract herself. At home, she could always find cheer in the company of others, but there was no chance of that with Vaisey and Gisborne as travelling companions was there? And worse than that was the terrible fear that what Vaisey said could be true - that Robin was dead. With all her heart, she did not want to believe it and deep down she felt it could not be so because Robin always got through somehow didn't he? Always found a way...

But...

What if he hadn't?

Even the best slip up on occasion don't they?

It was this thought that upset her and during the day, her determination not to have her jailors see her cry kept the tears at bay, but at night, she would find herself overwhelmed by sadness and simply couldn't help it. She had never felt so alone and there was nothing she could do about it, stuck as she was with the last two men in the world she would ever confide in.

Her only consolation was that she'd stayed true to herself. Her father would have reproached her for the risks she'd taken, but now that she knew the depths of the sheriff's ambition, she felt justified in her actions. The king was in danger; Vaisey must be stopped at all costs.

It was just as she was thinking of how Guy lied to her about the attempt on the Lionheart's life, that the knight appeared.

"I can hear you thinking from in the passageway."

She scowls and runs a hand over her face to hide any lingering tears. Being a prisoner did not agree with her; this much she makes clear in her dealings with her captor.

"I came to give you this..." he looks at her expectantly as he passes her a blanket and she scowls harder despite being secretly grateful. "I thought the weather might improve further out at sea, but there's no sign of it at present."

Marian stares at him blankly. At a loss what to do with such a banal comment.

Is this where we're at now Guy? Bland chats about the weather?

Her silent rejection of this most recent olive branch hits the mark, for he seems to deflate and leaves the room with a scowl of his own. But what did he expect from her? Did he honestly think that a blanket and some small talk was all it would take for her to feel differently about him?

She sighs and thinks back to all else he has done for her of late, not least the steps he's taken to protect her from the all-male crew of their vessel. Vaisey had scoffed as he'd watched his lieutenant hand her a hooded robe before boarding, but it had been a prudent move, for the crewmen would surely have a field day if they knew that the prisoner was a lady of nobility. Then there were the offerings of food he'd brought her at various intervals that no doubt came from his own pathetic rations; she stubbornly refused to take them but still...

Worst of all were the looks; the hopeful one that accompanied his 'good deed for the day' as she'd sarcastically come to think of his helpful acts and the downcast one that came when she repelled him.

'Will he ever give up?' she wonders, and slumps into further dejection as she concludes that he probably won't.

Sully reflected that if there was ever a man who stood in his own way, it was this one.

We are all our own worst enemy; capable of being crueller to ourselves than any other could be, but this man was positively masochistic.

At first, he'd given him a wide berth for it was painful to watch how he pounced upon every morsel of attention the old man gave him and wilted under every mean comment, but at some point he'd been forced to speak to him and had found himself strangely fascinated from there on out. Perhaps it was his need to fix things... he'd always felt drawn to the bent or broken of this world.

Actually, it had been Archie's fault. As so often, an introduction had been brought about because of the cat, except this time it had been Archie's interest in a passenger and not the other way round.

"I think he likes you," the carpenter had observed, gesturing to his four-legged companion whom he caught staring unabashedly at the sullen man.

The knight turned from staring out at the rain to face the speaker, apparently oblivious to the presence of the feline and his stern expression softens a fraction as he regards the animal.

"Well, that makes a change; I'm not usually so popular," he remarks with a hint of bitterness.

"Yer honoured indeed; our Archie normally steers clear o' passengers," comes the reply and Guy represses a smile at this and settles for a shrug; he hasn't the foggiest idea what the feline could find so fascinating about him. He takes a moment to study the creature and if he hadn't been told his name, he would've been able to deduce from the size and numerous battle scars littering the off-white fur, that he is a tom. Most striking of all though are brilliant green eyes that observe him with unapologetic curiosity and a crumpled right ear; evidence of a particularly violent skirmish in the past.

"He is yours?" he asks finally, turning his gaze to the elder man, who with his unkempt grey hair, beard, and weather-beaten appearance, resembles the feline in many respects.

"Aye, well, as much as anyone can claim to own 'im," he approaches the cat and lets him butt his head against his hand to say hello. "Think he owns me to be honest," he adds with a chuckle, "an' every other soft bugger on this boat."

Guy smirks. He would like to think he isn't soft, but the truth is he's always had time for animals.

"He does not mind the water?" he gestures to the sea, recalling a stray from his boyhood who'd detested all things wet.

"Don't reckon so – he dun't go near it," Sully pauses and huffs a laugh, "one of the lads tried to throw 'im in once, but the joke was on 'im; th' cat scratched his arm to ribbons."

Guy smiles then for perhaps the first time since he's boarded this vessel and secretly decides that this man and his cat are alright.

"You have worked long on this boat?"

"Aye, must be gettin' on fer four or five years now I reckon. Capt'n wanted a carpenter an' got a damn good mouser in the bargain," he gestures to Archie, who is staring at Guy again.

"M' name's Sully... Sullivan actually, but nobody calls me that... yer gonna be on board a while, so yer might as well know who to yell fer when yer need owt fixin."

Guy tells the man his name and is about to add a similar remark, but then closes his mouth, for he can't think of anything the man might need him for.

"Shame we can't put her to work, would like to see her earn her keep," Vaisey remarks casually, though there is nothing casual about this comment. It is aimed to ruffle his right-hand man and hits the mark as always.

"No," Guy answers urgently, and is about to protest that the conditions Marian is kept under are punishment enough, but Vaisey cuts him off.

"It would certainly pull her down a peg or two."

Guy's eyes widen in horror. He wonders if his master is aware of the implications of what he is proposing.

"No, please, think of what they might do to her..."

The malicious smirk on the elder man's face tells Guy that he knows exactly what they would do to her. Guy's stomach twists violently and he turns away, knowing as he does, how much Vaisey enjoys moments like this where he has him over a barrel and can torment him at will.

"Ah yes, an interesting point you make there, what would dozens of sex starved seamen do, if introduced to our fair maiden?"

He raises his goblet in the direction of the crew who do the same despite not knowing what they are toasting to and Guy storms off leaving his drink untouched.

"Ah well, more for me." Vaisey drinks the liquid down in one pull, satisfied with the outcome of the conversation.

Guy begins to take watch outside the hold.

He knows a threat when he hears one.

He doesn't think Vaisey will let the crew in on the identity of their prisoner, (tormenting him with the possibility was probably satisfying enough), but then he wouldn't put it past him either. He was cruel and unpredictable enough for it. Guy knew that if the worst case did transpire, he wouldn't stand a chance against a mob, but putting himself between Marian and any potential threat was better than nothing wasn't it? And it was certainly better than lying awake worrying about her in his berth.

He curses himself that he worries at all. After all the betrayals, she hardly deserves his concern. Allan's non-answer to his question about Marian and Robin's relationship had not gone unnoticed. Nor had her night-time tears, and it pains him immeasurably to know for whom they are for.

She still has feelings for him.

The thought torments him constantly. Makes him practically vibrate with anger... but then he finds himself standing watch outside her door once more...

She is upset. Again. Her sobs are muffled, but he can hear them. It makes him want to go to her, but he's frightened of what he might do if he does. All rational thought is lost in her presence. All emotions are heightened. The tension has been building and one more rejection could push him over the edge. The sad thing is, deep down he already knows all he needs to know as to where he stands, but he holds on desperately to that flickering flame of hope burning within him because without it, he has nothing.

He's about to turn the key in the lock when the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Somebody is here.

He turns slowly and reaches for the hilt of his sword.

"Who goes there?"

No answer.

It is so quiet one could hear a pin drop.

He scans the passageway, and his eyes alight upon an unblinking pair of eyes in the darkness.

"Show yourself!" he growls, drawing his weapon.

No movement.

He is hostile now; nothing annoys him more than an order gone unheeded. He stalks angrily towards the intruder and is on the point of launching an attack when...

he trips over a dead mouse on the floor.

What the...?

He's already realised who his 'opponent' is, but just as he begins cursing, he receives a meow in greeting for good measure.

"Why you stupid little..."

Archie butts his head against Guy's shin, unimpressed by the menace in Guy's voice and large sword in his hand.

"I could've stabbed you!" Guy yells.

The feline is unfazed by this assertion and slinks between the knight's legs as if they've known each other for years.

"Guy? Is everything alright?" Marian's voice from inside her 'cell' interrupts Guy's indignant fury and this raises his hackles, for there could be anyone out here with him.

Christ Marian, why not advertise? "Hello, men of the Mary Peel! Female in chains on board, do pay me a visit at the hold!"

He storms over and nearly wrenches the door off its hinges. His enraged expression has her retreating to the back wall. He is about to chew her out over her carelessness, when the cat saunters in behind him and deposits the dead mouse at his feet.

For a split second he's about to explode but quiet laughter from Marian cuts him short. He looks at her as if she's lost her mind, but she's as impressed by his anger as the cat is.

"Perhaps it is his way of welcoming you on board?" she offers with pretend seriousness. The curl at corner of her lips is fooling nobody.

Guy says nothing. How can he be angry when she looks at him like that?