Temptation

The winds were rough that day, billowing and blowing about; sending the washer's basket tumbling, bending back the supple sapling, and snapping her husband's coat out from behind him. Marian stood, arms crossed, at the open window. The wind gushed inside and sent her hair into a tizzy. Guy looked up at her from below, a hurt expression crossed his face for an instant, and then it was gone - just like the wind blown leaves. They'd had another argument; this one before sunup even.

It had been two weeks since he was found half-dead at the castle. Two weeks since she had resolved to try to love him, as a wife does a husband. Try she did; yet he seemed to frustrate her plans at every opportunity. Like he always did…

Despite regularly attempting to put her into her place - a place that was as disdainful as Winchester's vice grip to her - he never went so far as to resume any intercourse between them. It puzzled her greatly that he had not yet asked her for his marriage dues again. It was almost a feeling of dread - what was he waiting for? Was he trying to upset her life even more by tormenting her? Or was he simply uninterested? Though she herself waited for him to recommence his husbandly attentions, the entire state of affairs was shrouded in petulance and anger - sadly mostly on her side. The reason being that she, though not for lack of trying, almost longed for his touch.

That first night at Locksley - fully being his, had been the only time since Winchester had taken her that she felt nothing mattered. That kings and monarchs did not matter. That love and hate were one and the same - when mostly she stood on a hair's breath between the twain. That she was in control and could do as she pleased without the censure and condemnation that pervaded the rest of the world.

However, Guy had been withdrawn since, and it cut her to think that he was through with her. The angry thought that he was only after her maidenhead, threatened to bite her, but she knew that could not be the case. He had been willing to love her even when he thought that Winchester had taken her honor. That was something to remember.

Marian watched as Guy and Allan mounted their respective steeds and turned toward Nottingham. She huffed in her annoyance and inward frustration. It was his own bloody fault if he was miserable.

Though, at times, Marian gave Guy ill motives for not claiming his husbandly right, his purpose was nobler than she gave him credit for. Guy fought an internal battle every night. Though they shared a bed, mere inches from each other, he considered them to be at different ends of the world's spectrum and unable to mingle.

Oh! How badly he wanted her, he dared not even fathom, lest he give into his carnal temptations. He wanted to give her time; she needed that and though his desire was strong he didn't wish to take it from her. She had not begun to accept the idea that they were married - so he assumed at least. There was no apprehension that she could be with Winchester's child and he felt at ease on that regard. He had all the time in the world - if only he could survive that long without her…

Havey-cavey, ramshackle thing that their marriage was, Guy wanted to make the best of it. He wanted to show her the kind and gentle husband that he could be. Though the start was rough he even went so far as to pray to God, as unheeded as those prayers might be, that the remainder of their union would be unhindered by hate and distrust.

Guy stationed himself behind Sheriff Vaisey for the duration of the council of nobles. This entire meeting ate at him far more than usual. Not only was he denied the right to be seated by his fellow landowners - for he was not counted among their brethren as of yet - but his whole morning was in shambles for Marian had insisted on attending.

She had pushed him to the brink of madness. He only wanted to lash out and strike as he might do to an unmindful, impetuous guard under his command. Though insanity loomed, judgment held reign and he had the sense enough to control his hand.

Marian was determined to attend in place of her father, he himself being too frail to go. Whether she had set up this scheme only to cause him to admit his past wrongs, bringing shame and hurt upon him, or that she still wanted to have a former privilege at her disposal - he didn't know.

"You are my wife now," he had said whilst pulling on his gloves. "It is not your place to attend for your father."

"But my father has a right to be there," she answered. He could see the color rise in her cheeks - there was something more to this argument…

"Yes, well your father is unwell and not able to leave his room at present."

"Then shouldn't I be there to later apprise him of the entire goings on?"

"No," he said, trying in vain to give his words an air of finality. The look in her eyes told him he had failed. She was incensed over something and wanted blood - his, he figured.

"Then you will tell him?" The question was not really a question - the answer already known.

"No," he said again on a sigh - he knew where this was headed now. There was nothing to do but wait, only quitting the room would end the inevitable.

"Why not?" she asked cruelly - she was attempting to give him a reason to become angry with her. Give her a reason to push him away for yet another day.

"Because the Sheriff has not seen fit to grant your father - or you - leave to attend." If only she would not drive him to say something that he would regret…

She looked piqued, "And why not? It is my father's land - his manor -"

He knew she used the words to slice him, for there was no manor house anymore - he had seen to that. Sometimes he wondered if, in fact, Marian was not his redemption after all but some heavenly tormenter that God had sent to remind him that salvation was always just out of his grasp… Yet her angelic features prevented this assumption from taking firm root. While these thoughts were still racing through his brain, he cut her off, "As of now the Sheriff is managing Knighton in the absence of anyone who has sense enough to do so!"

He regretted his words even before they had fully left his mouth. Guy could see that she regretted hers as well. Only after he had irrevocably blundered once more, did he walk out the door and down the stairs, refusing to allow another set of words to pass between them. Now he found himself here - attending a meeting, he wasn't privied to be a part of, while his wife sulked at home because of the same bloody gathering.

The only thing that he had to be grateful for, was the hubristic Spencer was not in attendance at the council. He had been dismissed by the Sheriff for the time being - until the meeting was adjourned. Guy was pleased not to be forced to see his loathsome face for the afternoon. Nevertheless, it would only be for a few short hours because Vaisey wished to speak with both of them on the matter of the Prince and his upcoming arrival to Nottinghamshire.

Another matter aggravated Guy and it had nothing to do with Marian. Allan. Five times in the last fortnight, Allan had disappeared. Now, Guy was not fearful of his betraying him to Hood but Guy could smell the liquor on his clothes and breath by the time he reappeared. It seemed that Allan was engaging in some entrepreneur ventures - cheating tavern patrons out of their tax money.

Though Guy had taken pains to shake Allan out of his business scheme, it had not appeared to do any good. It wasn't that Allan was running off when he would be initially missed. Oh no, he waited until there was a period of lax activity so he could slip away for an hour or so and slip back when he had filled his pockets rather copiously, in addition to the amount that Guy paid him for his more 'permissible' services.

Gisborne could only hope that the Sheriff did not notice Allan's absence as he himself had. Maybe the Sheriff only thought that Allan was embarking on an errand that Guy sent him on. Discontenting, though, was the fact that Spencer seemed to take ample note of Allan's sudden disappearances and debauched reappearances. Guy had heard by word of mouth, that Allan had crossed the terse knight; undoubtedly, the latter would be seeking revenge. Guy wished that, should Allan continue, he could be the first to extract punishment for his clandestine dealings if he so chose to scuttle off again… Guy hoped that, after their last encounter over the matter, Allan would have the wisdom to remain at his post.

At the conclusion of the council Vaisey walked briskly to his chambers with Guy following at his heels. Upon their arrival, however, the Sheriff was angered to find that Spencer was not awaiting them. It was with this knowledge that Guy excused himself and went on the hunt for Allan. Feeling slightly unnerved and ill - though he couldn't rationalize those feelings in the least - Guy realized that he could not find him. Knowing that Spencer was on the prowl for Allan's hide, caused Guy to strike off for the tavern. He could only hope that he found Allan before his rival did... And when he found him - oh, when he found him, Guy was going to make him wish that he had never taken up the fault of gaming.

What he didn't know, was that Allan was drowning his sorrows as well as profiting slightly from his fellow man's poor hands. That was where he sat this afternoon. Head down on the table, mug gripped like a vice in his hand. Four downed - one in the works. He wouldn't be like this if it hadn't been for seeing a flash of a once admirable companion, stealthily lurking in the market place; hood pulled over her short cropped, dark hair to make her undistinguishable. She could hide her appearance easily but she was unable to hide the sad recognition that stole over her face when she spotted him. If it hadn't been for that fleeting glimmer of history long past - Allan would not be jug bitten at present.

Any thoughts of the day's plan, he had lost after the fourth ale had crossed his lips and quickly pooled in his stomach. The dark rough wood on the tables and floor, the dim, shrunken candles that dotted about, and the stench of sweat and drinks long splattered and soaked into the floor, were all he had care to notice at present. Moreover, even those were hazy to him. At least he didn't have to see Djaq's woeful eyes upon him anymore and hear her voice telling him that he was still a good man… Good man be damned! He was the scum of the earth for betraying his friends. These were the first friends that had not betrayed him first!

As Allan lay there, dipping a little too deep, he didn't bother to take note when the room grew silent from all the crude laughter and egregious sounds. A shadow loomed over him, it took Allan a long moment to register this fact. When he did, he craned his neck backwards and upwards in an attempt to see the figure that hung over him. His hands suddenly affixed themselves behind his back and the table pressed into his face, leaving lines and creases as it dug into his sensitive flesh.

A voice was at his ear, hot and gravely, filled to the brink with emotion - hate - anger. "Forgetting our duties are we?" Spencer!

Despite the quantity of ale he had only just consumed, Allan felt his mouth go dry. Spencer pulled him upright and forced him to stand on shaky legs, "Well then, I'll be forced to remind you of them." Allan felt his feet drag as he was propelled to the doorway. Spencer grunted with the strain of his task, "What you mustn't forget - is that - I intend to kill you - accidentally." Accidentally on purpose - Allan's mind fumbled.

Allan was no quitter. He had never been content to sit back and watch what was happening to him with a disinterested eye. He struggled - encumbered as he was by his drink. Spencer had been waiting for such an occurrence - it gave him leave to 'prevent' Allan from escaping.

Feeling his eyes darken, after a painfully sharp burst of light, Allan could only assume that he had been punched in the face. However, the throbbing did help confirm his suspicions in that regard. He pushed away, no longer feeling the confining grip on his hands, and felt another blow to his face. His lip oozed blood and he pressed at it with his hands; stumbling to the ground while Spencer continued his unmerciful assault. His nose was next and Allan again felt that sharp rupture of light in his eyes as the soft tissue of his nose met with a fist.

Allan was horrified to find himself suddenly surrounded by the contents of a horse trough. The water pounded at his eardrums and the muffled coughs and sputters that he made went unheard because of the thunderous splashing that his arms produced while flailing to get out. He was somewhat sober now and his mind raced to concoct a way out of this dire predicament.

In an instant the pressure, that Spencer was using to push him into a watery grave, lifted off him. It took a moment for him to be able to draw himself out of the water - his entire body throbbed with the effort. When he had accomplished this, he was met with the sight of Guy of Gisborne belting Spencer downwards, causing him to land on the seat of his breeches. A mixture of surprise and amusement came with this particular spectacle.

He grinned as broadly as his sore mouth would let him. "'E's sticken' up fer me!" Allan slurred with his busted lip, pleased to know that Giz cared so much about him - though that transitory thought could possibly have been the alcohol talking…

Guy continued his onslaught on Spencer until the later was sprawled on the ground, clutching his stomach and bleeding from the mouth. It was not that Spencer was of little consequence in a fight but Guy had taken him by surprise, managing to knock the wind out of him.

Allan forced a smile from his cracked lips as he watched. It wasn't often that someone assisted him - he knew he could easily handle Spencer by himself, but it was rather pleasant to know that Guy appreciated him. Therefore, with Guy taking up his cause and throttling Spencer, Allan was quite stunned when Guy dropped the latter and stalked over to him. Allan was even more startled when Guy grabbed him by the shirt collar and hauled him back to the water. And he was at a full-blown loss for words when he found that Guy was shoving his head back down into the trough.

As Guy held Allan down, he became aware of a sense of enjoyment - payback as it were - for all the trouble that Allan had caused him. Spencer's idea was a poor one but Gisborne had every intention of utilizing the handy tools of execution. Surely, this would teach him to wander off! However, one thing that Guy couldn't do was keep Allan's head poised under the frolicking waves for long - his own unforgotten experience of drowning was still fresh in his mind.

Allan floundered for a moment until Guy pulled him up for air. Practically spitting with anger and exertion, Guy said, "Don't ever - leave your post again."

Having no other or better option, Allan nodded his head and felt Guy heave him to his feet. He wavered slightly but steadied himself using sheer willpower. The lack of air had made his head fuzzy and Allan was unable to make up his mind as to whether Giz was helping him or harming him. It was, Allan decided, not worth trying to figure out.

The desire to stay at the tavern and throw Guy and his duties to the wind, was very strong indeed and he almost voiced his opinion of righteous indignation. Gisborne was no better than Spencer! He hadn't really come to his aid - only attempted belatedly to finish Spencer's task of drowning him! Allan was not certain who the worse opponent was: no one was fighting for his life - only who would be allowed to finish him off first… Though he had to admit that he knew far better where he stood with Guy…

Half out of curiosity and half from morbid dread, Allan glanced at Spencer, catching that man's undeniable glare almost instantly. Spencer looked all the more formidable with the quickly purpling bruise on his cheek and his hair in disarray, while the blood slowly dripped off his bottom lip. While Spencer remained on the ground, with his knees tucked up under him, just waiting for his breath and strength to come back, Allan decided to take the lesser of two evils and accompany Guy back to the castle.

During this strained trip back, Allan fondled his clogged, aching nose. Through all the dried blood, Allan managed to mumble something - incoherent as it was.

"What?" Guy barked, annoyed at the entire situation that Allan had placed him in, not to mention Allan himself.

Allan heaved a loud irritated sigh and spoke again, enunciating his words carefully, though he still sounded very nasal, "'e boke my nose!"

Guy shook his head, "Your mouth broke your nose."

The temerity that Spencer possessed to attack Allan, made Guy's blood boil. Not for the fact that Allan's illicit activities needed checking, he was full aware of that himself. Not for the fact that he wickedly pummeled Allan, for Guy had intended to deliver that sort of punishment as well. It was the fact that Spencer took it upon himself to stop Allan - it was not his place.

The Sheriff was busy when Guy arrived at the castle with a bleeding Allan in tow. It was almost a relief but Guy knew that it couldn't last forever and that Vaisey would take his fury out on him for leaving at a very inopportune time. Till then, however, Guy nudged and or shoved Allan along the corridor to the kitchen.

Allan initially made a feeble protest but quickly silenced when he saw the stormy look that Guy bestowed on him. Guy entered the kitchen in Allan's wake and dunked a slightly soiled dishcloth into a bucket of russet colored water. He slopped it at Allan's bruising face, "Hold it there."

He caught the kitchen girls staring at him - in horror probably. Guy turned his head away to avoid eye contact. Though he hadn't solicited any of their notice since he began wooing Marian - Guy could not deny the twinge that hit his heart when he knew that he could easily have any of them in his bed - yet his wife was untouchable. He felt weak - unable to get Marian to love him. He stalked out of the kitchen and made for the Sheriff's chambers yet again. Allan trailed along behind him; sopping cloth still plastered to his hot, swelling face.

Guy sighed when he heard Allan's still cocky voice ring out, "Ladies" before he diligently trotted after him. When they were out of the sight as well as the hearing of the kitchen, Guy whirled around to face Allan. He shoved him in the chest and up against the stone wall, "What were you doing?"

Allan let go of his drowned cloth, which somehow managed to remain over his battered face, and put his hands up in a defensive posture. He thought about telling Guy that he was just being friendly but that blatant sarcasm might earn him another clout to the head. He decided simply to admit his sin, "I was drinking."

Guy pushed him again, "By the smell of you that's obvious." He paused, taking in Allan's previously unnoticed bloodshot eyes, unwashed hair, and stained shirt. It was apparent that his man was suffering on some account… Nevertheless, that didn't matter at the moment. What did matter was the fact that Allan had palpably disregarded his orders. "Did you think that I wouldn't know?"

Allan's mouth began to runaway with him before his mind could even take a step - his head was in a muddle after all, "Naw, I didn' think you were as quick as that." He flinched as Guy raised his gloved hand to belt him; he only hoped that one of the ridged, decorative wolf heads wouldn't bite his nose…

With great restraint, Guy stayed his hand - though Allan could tell that he found it against his better judgment. He reminded himself to check his words before he spoke them when around Gisborne… That could mean life or life with visible scars…

Allan still sounded like he had to blow his nose, when he spoke next, "Not bein' funny but how did Spencer know about it? I understand you but not 'im." Of course, Guy would notice his absence - Allan had the nerve to disregard his direct orders. However, Spencer should not be aware of Allan's stations or even care. The thought unnerved him…

Guy sneered into Allan's face, "He wouldn't have known if you hadn't been rattling down the halls!"

It took Allan a moment to register that Guy was referring to lining his pockets with significant and weighty coin - hence the rattling noise. Allan felt a little sick when he recalled that, though he had won abundantly, he had spent almost every cent on liquor… If he hadn't done that ill deed, he might have actually been rattling down the halls…

Allan felt forced down the shadowy hallway as Guy pushed him onwards to, what he could only assume, was the Sheriff's chambers. He vaguely recalled that the Sheriff wanted to speak with them today. The dust motes, that shown in the soft light of the corridor, usually came close to making Allan sneeze but today his nose was too stopped up by blood and swelling to allow any of the powdery grime to enter his nostrils. This was an indirect benefit.

Opening the door, Guy said, "Sorry for the delay, Milord." He grimaced when he saw Spencer standing before the Sheriff; slightly hunched over, his hands leaning upon the desk with determination - an angry stance.

Spencer turned to see the latecomers and his lips curled into a derisive sneer. His face was splattered with bruises and Allan felt his hand instinctively move to one of his own wheals. Spencer had the wherewithal, by means of his contusions, to draw the Sheriff instantly to his side. In spite of this, it seemed that the Sheriff was in no mood to argue with either party and dismissed Spencer's accusations with a flick of his wrist.

"Ah, Guy," Vaisey said, standing up and walking around the side of his desk, "Are you ready to discuss business?"

The look of shock must have registered across Guy's face when he realized that the Sheriff was not about to browbeat him for disappearing. Alas! The gleam in the man's eyes told Guy a different story; he was certain to pay for his actions later. Guy shuddered.

Spencer was not about to let this go without a fight, "My Lord, don't you think that it is time we tried this traitor? I know Gisborne's toying with him but he is, after all, an outlaw."

Allan couldn't hold his tongue - though his time of being able to speak freely in Robin's company had sadly vanished, "Fine. Les' have it out, eh? Combat." He had to stop to take a breath before he continued to speak, being unable to breathe and talk at the same time while his nose continued to swell. "Bu' wait - you'd have to choose a champion; not man enough to fight me, are you?"

Guy ran his hand down his face in exasperation. Why did Allan insist on insulting Sir Spencer after the latter had tried to kill him? Allan's egregiousness was going to mean his end... Spencer did not take kindly when Allan's words regarded him as unable to fight his own battles - as one of the fairer sex. However, it appeared that Allan was not the only one using childish insults.

"Unfortunately, the ordeal by bread is reserved for nobles - or you would triumph over that, your mouth being so large," said Spencer, taking a step closer in Allan's direction.

Allan could have laughed at that particular trial. The ordeal was that if you could swallow the slice of bread without choking - you win, if not and you managed not to die of asphyxiation - well, then you were subjected to a far worse fate…

In light of Spencer slowly moving nearer to Allan, Guy maneuvered himself beside his delinquent man. He did not want him killed but Guy also knew that Allan didn't need to have his tongue to live. At the moment, that option was looking decidedly more appealing…

Allan rolled his eyes and continued mocking him, "Don't you know a lot about the law." Secretly he thought that Much, God help him, would win at that ordeal and even enjoy himself… He behaved as if Spencer's connection with the Sheriff didn't signify, that it didn't matter what he said or did. Guy could only pray that the Sheriff would take into account the fact that Allan was inebriated.

Spencer smiled and half closed his eyes, looking in Allan's general direction, "My Father was involved in law once." Only Guy caught the flicker of aggression, the unsaid malice that tinted his words, and for the life of him, could not see them being directed at Allan…

Unknown to any of the men in the room, a figure hung about outside the door. The figure was pressed up against the wall; so closely, that she could have melted into it. Marian was making certain that she caught every spoken word. This surely was a conversation that contained a wealth of important information.

She felt a pang of guilt for spying on Guy, her husband, the way she was. Though it passed quickly, he had refused to let her attend the council and so she was stealing this from him at least. Mayhap this information could assist Robin in his endeavors. That thought sent another bolt of worry and dismay into her heart. Robin. She hadn't seen or spoken to him in a fortnight. Though it was wrong to betray her husband to the man who loved her, Marian couldn't help herself. Guy hadn't done anything to support her cause or earn her loyalty - she tried to push the thoughts about his rescuing her out of her mind - Robin, though, had given her cause that enlisted her assistance.

She remained where she was and listened closely:

The Sheriff spoke, "Enough bawling between you! We need to continue with business. The Prince has asked personally for our backing on a certain - ah - trifling matter."

"What type of matter?" Spencer growled and though Marian couldn't see it, his glare was directed at Allan.

"A matter of lineage. See, the Prince's brother - illustrious, sinless King Richard - has tainted the family name. A stolen kiss here - a quick tumble there and all that culminated in a squalling, wailing bundle. You know about those, Guy. Don't you?" Marian bit her tongue at the Sheriff's mention of Guy's previous dalliances. Though she knew - deep down she knew - that Guy had his share of mistresses, the unspoken words that were finally uttered, cut her heart intensely. Yet she couldn't quite see why it should bother her so.

Guy and Allan were quiet at Vaisey's accusations and report - Spencer, on the other hand, was less reserved, "A baseborn? Lord take it, that is not unlikely. Why, most of us have gotten a child on some odd, savage wench." Marian was irritated that Spencer could speak so casually about the male race and their acts of impropriety and fornication - for if a woman were to taint her body and name with such acts, they would be positively cast out.

Spencer continued, unabashed by his previous comments, "What's so special about this ignoble wretch?"

"This one," the Sheriff said, "Is a special pet of the King's. It seems he was even granted the privilege to live in Aquitaine - with the Queen Mother herself. Prince John worries that, should the Lion fail to produce a legitimate heir, this Cub might hinder his own succession."

Marian heard Allan speak next, his voice was hesitant and nasal sounding, "You mean kill 'im?"

"Why give the man a schilling - he figured it out! You were wrong, Sir Spencer - he does have some wit."

Marian felt her heart leap into her throat at the suggestion of killing a boy. She wished that she could peek around the corner and see Guy's face. See if he condoned such a barbaric act. Though she couldn't give herself that privilege, Marian was startled when she heard him begin to speak, "Is that truly necessary?" There was silence accompanying those words. "Wouldn't the death of his son, illegitimate or no, set all of England - and France for that matter - in an uproar?" More silence. Guy coughed, "The Prince should try to get the boy to be his ally - that would set the populous firmly on his side. To see Richard's son supporting him - that would do far greater good than turning him into a martyr."

"I see. But do you think it is wise to try to change the Prince's mind once it is made up? A clue: No. Besides, Gisborne, it has come to my attention that your leper has ruffled your little feathers. Maybe you haven't even shed the down under your wings." Vaisey poked Guy in the chest with one of his well-manicured digits "You've gone soft."

Guy held back the snarl that threatened to mar his face. Spencer caught his eye and smiled at him - though he had to force his battered visage to comply with these actions. Guy felt like growling - that filth had no right to pretend to be better than him!

There was no further argument from anyone in the room and it was not long before Vaisey called the entire procedure to a close. Marian stole away before anyone could spot her. Deftly she left the castle, slipping out just as she slipped in - she had something important to do. Even though Guy's attempt to stand up to the Sheriff failed, Marian knew someone who wouldn't…

Guy waited until Spencer had cleared the room and was well down the hall, before he gave Allan permission to proceed. The latter started down the opposing corridor and Guy intended to follow him but the sleeve of his leather jacket was quickly taken hold of - the Sheriff was not through with him yet.

Once Allan was out of earshot, the Sheriff began to speak, daintily picking a piece of dirt out from under a fingernail and examining it closely before flicking it at Guy, "I hear you haven't been playing nicely with Sir Spencer."

Guy defended himself to the best of his capability, "If he hadn't set his designs on my man - made a move on him without my consent or knowledge - you would find I could be very agreeable."

"I'll let it slip by - control your fists in the future - wouldn't want you to damage your pretty little knuckles." He gave Guy's hand a brisk pat before sitting down at his desk and becoming absorbed with his ledgers - he was dropping the subject. "Don't disagree with Prince John when he arrives with the boy in person. I'll not risk my neck saving yours."

Guy gave a brisk nod, thanking the holy mother that Vaisey did not decide to take out his wrath on him. He strode to the door and was halfway out when the Sheriff's voice stopped him. "What, Milord?"

"I said: how is Marian feeling? Is her stomach churning in the mornings quite yet? Or does that not come till later? I was never good with these womanly functions."

"Milord? I don't understand," Guy said, shifting his position on the threshold.

"You know, when women pretend to become deathly ill because they are with child." He looked at Guy's startled expression and took its surprise for bewilderment, "You can't possibly think that, in all the cold, lonely nights that she spent with him, Winchester didn't do your job for you? Can you? Well, I suppose that you could, you are rather gullible. Make no mistake - any babe that slides out from betwixt her legs is not yours. You're too late on that account, Guy. A sad second."

Guy felt his breath catch. Only he and Marian knew. No one else. There was no chance that any child had Winchester's blood. Nevertheless, Guy was not about to dispute this fact with the Sheriff - it was doubtful that he would believe him and Marian would hate him for the shame he would bring upon her. But wasn't the embarrassment of her violation worse than the discomfiture of her purity? He held his tongue, unwilling to risk her anger.

"A word of advice: there are many things that you could acquire from Blight that, with an accidental drop into a drink, would rid you of your wife's disgrace. She would never know and no one else would blame you."

Guy was stoic in his reply, "I'll keep it in mind."

Marian reined her horse to a stop when she heard the silence of the forest. Too silent. That could only mean that Robin was close. She felt her heart beat loudly at the thoughts of seeing him again. The things she wanted to tell him but couldn't now. Maybe one day…

She didn't even have to call out for him - Robin sprang down from a nearby tree. "What has he done to you?" his words were accusatory - he couldn't bear to give Guy the benefit of the doubt.

Her anxiety as well as her joy at seeing him, vanished, "He hasn't done anything to me." She could easily read the un-acceptance and disbelief of his expression. She would not bother to fight it - it would only serve to confirm his unwarranted suspicions further. "I come with news - of the Prince."

Robin cocked his head, "The Prince? What news would that be?"

"He is enlisting the Sheriff to help him murder his nephew - the King's baseborn son."

Robin did not seem to be bothered or astonished with Marian's news about the King's illegitimate child; she wondered what else he knew and had kept from her… "You mean he is enlisting Guy's help. The Sheriff would not personally dirty his hands."

She met his eyes defiantly, "Guy took a stand against it."

"I'm sure a feeble, old man could have stood better." Robin looked at her intently; cut to the quick that she was defending Guy again. At least she appeared to be in good health - no visible bruises or slap marks. "And why, Lady Gisborne, are you telling me - an outlaw - this important piece of castle intelligence?"

Robin couldn't help the snide comment. Moreover, Marian couldn't help wanting to hit him. "We are on the same side - are we not?"

"I suppose we are. But how is that working out for you at present?"

"Quite well," she replied through gritted teeth. "I only sought to do you a favor. You seem to have vanished from Nottingham entirely."

Robin bit back how his faithful friend had met with a painful wound recently and how they were laying low so he could recover, "You just haven't been looking."

Marian felt the color rise in her cheeks - were all the men in her life bent on infuriating her? "At least do something for the boy!" With that, she quickly turned her horse around, intending to gallop back to Locksley, her husband, her new life - and away from him.

"Marian wait!"

She stopped and turned. Robin ran toward her and gazed up into her flushed, angry face. She sat upon her horse and waited for him to continue. He fumbled in his eagerness and anxiousness, "You are alright?"

"Robin," she said softly, but he didn't let her finish.

"It's dangerous for you to come here now," he began to undo the dark green scarf about his neck, "Hang this out your window if you need to tell me anything else - or you need something." He let the unspoken words hang in the air: distrust for Guy, fear of his temper and her pain. He did not need to say them for her to know what he thought just the same. Another set of tacit terms wafted before her - I'll be watching you. It didn't bother her, it strangely comforted her.

Marian took the length of material from him; it was soft to the touch and warm from his skin. She gripped it tighter. Robin's eyes were trained on her and they looked so hopeful that she could only nod her assent. She could still feel his love - his love that was immemorial for her and her alone. Her heart clenched; unwittingly she ran her hand across his cheek.

The scarf that she held tickled his face. His own heart jumped and beat against his breastbone. Suddenly, before he even knew what he was about, he gripped her hand to his face and pulling the palm to his lips, kissed her.

It was then that she regained her senses. Withdrawing her hand, gently but firmly, she turned away from him and rode off - leaving him to sigh into the wind behind her.

Robin gave a small groan as he eased himself down on the edge of Much's cot. Much himself was sitting up, still unable to do many things that he was used to. He was sickened at Will's heartbreaking attempts at cookery.

Placing his hands on his knees, Robin sat and stared with vacancy, longing, and a slight trace of happiness that Marian still cared.

Much looked hard at his master - trying to make out his thoughts. "What happened?"

"Marian came," was the wistful reply.

Much mouthed a silent "Oh," but paused and then said, "What about Gisborne?"

Robin's expression went from soft to steely, "We have work to do - the King's son is in danger. We need a plan."

The startled look was pronounced on Much's face, the insipid day that he had been subjected to, had suddenly taken a change - and he didn't care for it. "Master? The King's son? But he and his wife haven't - uh- uh - oh." Much reddened vibrantly at the knowledge. "Well. I suppose that - that - we all stumble…"

Robin almost wished that he had it in him to make Gisborne stumble… Then Marian would be his…

Racing back to Locksley before anyone noted her absence was Marian. She rode quickly praying that no one spotted her hasty exit out of Sherwood. Marian's hair was un-tucked and loose from the furious pace she had set her horse to. Her face was wind beaten and her lips were chapped. Quickly she dismounted and slid to the ground. She grabbed the reigns of her horse, turned around, and came face to face with Guy.

She jumped in surprise, sending her horse skittering slightly backwards and away from her. "Guy," she said as calmly as she could muster. "You're back early." Swiftly she had the good sense to tuck Robin's token into the back of her skirt - he wouldn't find it there…

His arms crossed themselves defensively over his chest as he walked further out from the shadows that lingered on the side of the stable, "I wanted to see you. I had hopes of surprising you - I can see I succeeded." He took another step forward, "Where were you, Marian?"

She held back the gulp that threatened to choke her, "I went for a ride."

"Where?"

"Does it matter?" she asked, leading her horse to the stable and the waiting groom.

Guy blocked her path, "Yes."

She sighed, resigned, "I take offence. Don't you trust me?" The look in his eyes gave her the answer she sought. "I went down a few of the old forest paths."

He looked troubled and distressed, "That could get you killed." She wasn't sure whether he meant from the outlaws or the Sheriff… "Don't ride out there again."

Her brows narrowed and formed dark lines above her bright eyes, "I'll do no such thing." Pushing past him, Marian led her horse into the dim stable.

Guy stood, silhouetted in the doorway, waiting for her to emerge. When she did, he continued with his argument, "Listen to me."

Marian looked him directly in the eyes, "I'll not do that either."

Guy's only consolation was that she was not telling him a mendacity… He grabbed her shoulders as she attempted to slip past him again. Forcing her to look at him, he said, "It is my right to have you listen to me!"

Marian raised her hands and clasp his wrists, pushing him away, "Get off me!"

And just as quick as that, Guy pulled her to him and pinning her body with his arms, said, "Why must you always fight me?"

She made no effort to escape this time. Should she have, he would be tumbled over on the ground - he knew this. "It reminds me who I am." And it makes it easier to push you away from me…

"Who you are?" Guy questioned, unsure if her sudden words were superfluous or not.

"I am not just going to sit back and wallow in your every wish. I have a will of my own and it will not be stamped on by your need to control me."

"Control you? I don't want to control you - I want to love you. Keep you safe."

She looked up at him and he down at her, "You're trying to lock me away - I won't let you."

He exhaled and glanced away from where she was held, tightly in his arms, "I won't." Guy released her and stepped back, holding his arm outward, "You're free. Do as you wish." He refused to look at her, "I'll not keep you."

This was it. He had known that she despised his actions, hated the shell of the man he was on the outside, but he had hoped - hopeless as it was - that she could learn to live with him and maybe even come to see the good that was hungering to get free. She could not and he would not trap her again.

"I'll have the marriage annulled - say it wasn't properly consummated."

She was stunned and unable to speak for a while. When Marian regained her voice she stammered, "You would lie to a Priest?"

He laughed but it was bitter and full of loathing, "It will be one of my lesser sins."

There was silence on both ends. Guy watched her; trying to recall every time he ever spoke to, saw, and touched her. Committing it to memory - for that is all he would have, memories. She broke the hush, "I made a vow to you - I intend to keep it. I'll not break my words to man, God - or you." He had been willing to give her up - for no other reason than she was unhappy. He loved her and she knew it. Now she needed to prove herself to him. She needed to let him take the lead; he could only accomplish that if she took the first step…

Guy gulped and felt the growing tightness in his chest dissipate, "Well then - we best be going in."

With a slight hesitation, Marian crossed the small distance between them. Placing her hand over Guy's, she leaned up and gave his cheek a brush with her dry lips; trying to confirm something to herself as well as him. However that kiss was not enough, she was going to need to give both of them further testimony of her reception, "I'll try to be your wife, Guy." She gulped, exhaling silently - readying herself for her next words and the implications that they held, "In all aspects." That was it - there was no going back again. She could not push him away.

He needed to trust her. And she, herself. This was the only way to gain that dissipated confidence, and secretly she very much missed his attentions - not that that would ever be disclosed to him… This was her sacrifice for his rescue, so she told herself - trying to make the act one of duty rather than one that actually meant something to her. Pretending it was something she had to do rather than wanted. A sad attempt it was, if only she could read her own face she would see the truth and longing splayed there…

Those few simple words made Guy's breast tighten involuntarily. Maybe he was reading too much into them but those words meant more than life or death to him. Her face confirmed it - she wanted him. Or, if 'wanted' was too strong a word - too strong a sentiment - she was willing to let him love her. That was all he needed.

It was all he could do not to drag her back to the manor. That was when, while he briskly walked to the manor house with Marian beside him, struggling to keep up, he saw Allan come from where he had been inside the stable - following them.

Allan was startled when, upon reaching the doorsill, just a step or so behind Guy and Marian, to find the door slammed violently in his face. Well. At least it didn't smash his already busted nose! He hoped they were happy! By the urgent pace Guy was moving at, he was certain they would be… He only hoped that Thornton or maybe even Edward, if he was able, would let him in after the lovers had retired. If not, then he was morosely resigned to the unhappy station of the barn…

Meanwhile, inside Locksley, Guy ushered Marian up the stairs and to the bedchamber. He paid no heed to Thornton, who called out that dinner would not be long. Food was the furthest thing from his mind. The door was bolted and Guy turned to face Marian - his face expectant and troubled. A more gallant man would have reaffirmed her wishes, made absolutely certain that she was ready - that she was willing, but Guy was not a gallant man and was fearful that she would just as quickly reject him.

He grabbed her and kissed her, knocking the air from her lungs as he did so. Marian gasp in surprise and Guy forced himself to pull away, reminding himself that if he didn't ask for her leave that she wouldn't feel in control. He instinctively knew that giving her the lead was the only way to keep her.

Marian was called upon to make the next move. She felt lightheaded at the whole goings on - she also felt exhilarated. Closing the distance between them, Marian drew Guy back down to her. Nothing mattered after that…

A/N First I would like to apologize. I know that I said the next update would be in March but so many things have come up that my free time was eaten away. I had to help a good friend during most of my spare 'writing time.' And though I dearly loved getting to spend time with her, I was sorely vexed that my chapter wasn't done as soon as I would have liked. (Going to see the "Hunger Games" three times didn't help either…)

I think that the impasse that I had hit with "Humanity" is over. Now that Guy is better, we can continue with the story and action. I hope that this chapter was enjoyable and that all the participating characters (some more willing than others) were in character. Still interested in Spencer? We got a little hint of his past…

I know there is no real way to get sober fast (but I couldn't have Allan falling all over himself, now could I?). But after Googling that question to see what other people had to say, I found several comments that 'when something bad happens' your brain kicks in somewhat. Having never been drunk before - I can neither deny nor confirm these results. I did however take the liberty of using what I found in this story.

The "Ordeal by Bread" was something that I tracked down on a medieval website, that I found really rather funny. You could prove your innocence by eating a large slice of bread without chewing. If you choked - guilty. If you swallowed it, without any problem - innocent. It was reserved for the Noble class. I don't know if it is real or not but it sounded so outlandish that I didn't think it could be completely made up. I took another liberty I guess…

I also know that there would be no chance for the King's son, Phillip, to be crowned. I am taking certain liberties - this is, after all, fan fiction… And I do not know all the details surrounding Phillip's life but I hope that using him in the story will not cause any controversy - it is a story after all.

I know that I have been promising some Allan angst - I hope that will satisfy everyone for the time being. ;) Don't worry - more to come. Allan just can't keep his hand out of the cookie jar - trouble will follow.

Re: Robin's comment about making Guy stumble. Don't worry - Robin is not heartless and wouldn't do such a thing. It was only a passing thought and given the circumstances, I can't exactly blame him.

Also: Re-Guy/Marian. I hope that they were in character. I mean, Marian and Guy have already consummated their hasty marriage but I hope that Marian wasn't too willing (or unwilling for that matter) when the time came for her to let Guy have his husbandly rights. She does want him - she just doesn't want to admit it to herself. They are working on their patched relationship and a crucial step was for them to be more - uh - intimate. I hope it worked out well.

Thanks for reading!

Sorry - there will be no update in the month of May - I am just too busy... There will be one in June! :)