Title: A Place to Call Home, Chapter Two (3/?)
Rating: This chapter: PG
Characters: Guy/Marian
Summary: "I do not love you," she cried in frustration. "Why do you want me?"
Disclaimer: The characters herein are the property of the BBC. All rights reserved. No copyright infringement intended and no profit is made by the author.
A/N: I've set this story immediately after the events of the first season finale. However, I have included information derived from subsequent episodes, in particular from season three's "Bad Blood" used here for my purposes as source material and plot motives for the characters.
As a further note, I personally found the character of Isabella to be a tired and terrible plot contrivance, so for my purposes, she never existed. Guy was raised an only child.
Chapter Two
A faint sound pulled Marian to wakefulness. She dragged her eyes open and peered blearily toward the source of the noise. She felt the now familiar sinking sensation as her surroundings came into focus.
"I tried to be quiet." Guy's voice penetrated the gloomy interior of the room and drew her attention. "I am sorry to have awakened you," he said as he strapped his sword belt around his waist.
"Where are you going?" Immediately Marian wished she had bitten her tongue rather than display any curiosity about his comings and goings.
"To the castle," he replied as he sheathed his sword in its scabbard.
"What horrific plans could the Sheriff possibly have that require your attention in the middle of the night?" she asked snidely as she sat up.
"The cock has already crowed," he told her and briefly tipped open one shutter so that she could see the pearlescent light that signaled the birth of a new day. "Tis dawn." He shrugged into his long leather coat as he came closer to her side of the bed. "I hope to return by midday." He leaned toward her as if to kiss her and she hastily slid down in the bed and turned her back.
"How and where you spend your day is of little consequence to me." Her voice was muffled as she drew the blankets up to her chin.
Guy took the rebuff in stride and instead stroked a hand over the top of her head before stepping away from the bed.
"It promises to be a pretty day," he murmured as he wrapped his hand around the door handle. "I hope you will not spend the whole of it cooped up in this room again."
As he stepped into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind him, he heard and felt something thud against the wood. He was cheered somewhat by Marian's display of temper. While he did not wish for a defiant wife, neither did he wish to share his life with the pale wraith with whom he had been living these last two days. Barely a word had been exchanged between them in that time. She had spent the days either sleeping or wrapped in a blanket while staring out of the window, eyes fixated longingly on the tree line that indicated the border of Sherwood.
As the sound of his booted footfalls faded into the distance, Marian flopped back onto the bed and pulled the covers around her more comfortably. Long minutes passed and finally she determined that she was too restless to spend another day in bed, even for the sheer pleasure of defying his suggestion. She opened the bedroom door and called for someone to bring her water with which to wash. It was not in her nature to brood for too long and she was heartily weary of being stuck in one place.
A servant brought a pitcher of warm water and a handful of soft cloths and Marian quickly set about stripping away her chemise and washing away the lethargy of the last two days. After hurriedly bathing and cleaning her teeth, she donned a fresh gown. Moving toward the window, she pushed open the shutters and again found herself staring blindly toward the tree line while idly brushing her hair. Once she had tamed the wavy mass, she gathered it in a tail over one shoulder and secured it with a length of leather cording. Feeling partially more herself, she made her way down the stairs. Slight hunger pangs were making themselves known despite the knot of tension which seemed to be permanently lodged now in her stomach.
As she poked her head into the kitchen in search of something to break her fast, another servant brought a tray with a steaming bowl of porridge and a hunk of freshly baked bread wrapped in a cloth to keep it warm.
"Might I have some honey?" Marian looked up expectantly.
"There is no honey, my lady," the servant told her. "My lord keeps a simple larder."
Too busy hoarding his pennies, Marian thought with a slight sneer.
"But I am sure he would be happy t'get you anything you might want, m'lady," the servant hastened to add as she noted the scowl on her new lady's face. "After all, the larder and the running of the house will be yours now, won't it?"
Marian was startled by the woman's question, having given no thought until now about her new life. Indeed, she had done everything to avoid thinking about it and had done little more than sleep and brood since arriving at Locksley two nights past.
"I… I don't – that is, Sir Guy and I have not… we have not discussed…"
She forced herself to stop babbling and took a deep breath. "This looks delicious," she said with a smile. "Thank you."
The servant bobbed her head in response and left Marian alone with her meal which had now lost most of its appeal. It was only due to the gnawing ache in the pit of her belly that she forced down half of the porridge and bread.
Once she had finished eating, she found her cloak and ventured outside. Guy had been right – it was a pretty day. She wandered about the property taking in the familiar rise of a nearby hill and a field of high waving grass. Her conversation with the servant had stirred up a multitude of emotions. She had often imagined herself to be the lady of this manor – but never like this.
She found herself in the grassy field and sank down to the ground. Pulling her cloak more tightly around her, she stretched out in the soft grass and let the slight warmth of the morning sun help her to escape back into the oblivion of sleep.
When she next awoke, the midday sun was directly overhead. Sitting up, Marian raised her hand to her brow to shield her eyes from the bright glare and pushed herself to her feet. The manor seemed quiet, though she was aware of the servants going about their daily chores. She walked toward the stables and slipped inside. The horses stabled there lifted their heads and her mount whickered a soft greeting.
"Hello, my beauty," she whispered as she stroked a hand down its nose. The horse butted its head against her torso, searching for a treat.
"Sorry," she laughed softly. "I do not have anything with me."
Wrapping her arms around the beast's neck, she leaned against its sturdy frame and felt a small measure of calmness steal over her. She stayed like that for some time, enjoying the comfort of the horse's familiar scent until her peaceful reverie was interrupted by the sound of her name being called.
"Marian."
Whirling about she saw Robin standing just outside the back entrance to the stables. The sunlight gilded him in a halo of gold and for a moment she was dazzled by the sight of him.
"Robin!" She rushed forward and fell into his welcoming embrace.
"My God, Marian. I waited for you to return as we planned," he murmured. "When you did not come, I went to your house and your father told me what has happened."
"Oh, Robin, you should not be here." She pulled him into a shadowy alcove in the stable. "He will be back at any time."
"Good," he snarled. "I am going to kill him and do not want to waste a lot of time looking for him."
"No!" she cried. "You mustn't." Her fingers curled into his jacket. "Please, Robin." She was terrified that Robin would be fatally injured and neither did she wish to see Guy harmed. If only he would just let her go, she thought. If only.
"Marian." Robin pressed his forehead to hers. "What are we going to do?"
She shook her head and tried to swallow past the enormous lump which had formed in her throat. "I do not know," she whispered. "I do not think there is anything we can do."
His arms tightened around her. "He has not hurt you, has he?"
"No," she told him. "He has actually been quite solicitous of me." She laid her head against his chest and felt the shuddering breath he drew.
"Has he… have you…?" His voice trailed off as he was unable to bring himself to give voice to his greatest fear.
"No." She could feel her cheeks flush with heat. "No." Not yet, she thought as she recalled Guy's words on their wedding night.
"Marian, you cannot mean to stay here."
"Where else would I go?"
"Come away with me!" He grasped both of her hands in his own. "Just come with me – now."
"Go away with you?" she asked. "Where? How?"
"Come with me to the forest. We can be together there," he said as he tugged on her hands and tried to urge her toward the door.
"To the forest?"
"Yes, please, come now. Right now."
"Robin, what are thinking? I cannot go with you. I am married to Guy."
He gripped her arms tightly in his hands. "The marriage means nothing to me, Marian. Please say you will come."
"It means something to the law. It means something to the Church. It means everything to Guy," she cried passionately.
"You said he has not touched you. We can have the marriage annulled."
"Are you crazy? He would have to agree to that and he will not! He will not let me go. He would come after me."
"You sound as though you do not want to be with me," he growled. "As if you would rather stay here with him!"
"And you act as if I have a choice," she spat back. "But it is not you who would be branded and judged. It is not you who would be dragged back here to face the wrath of a husband scorned. He will not put up with my running again. He could destroy Knighton. He would destroy me!"
"Here he has power because the Sheriff gives it to him," Robin said in a controlled voice. "But in the forest – in the forest I rule. You know I can protect you there. He will never find you."
"I – what are… are you even listening to yourself?" she cried. "Come with you! For how long? As what? As your mistress? Would you make of me your whore?"
"No! Marian, please."
"Then as what?" she repeated. Hot tears sprang to her eyes. "I cannot be your wife."
"When the King returns –"
"When the King returns! When the King returns! I am sick of hearing about your precious King! All of this is his fault anyway!" she snarled and yanked herself free of his grip.
"Marian, please." Robin gentled his voice and reached for her again. "Be reasonable."
"Be reasonable?" Her laugh was an ugly sound, filled with despair, clogged with tears. "There is nothing sane or reasonable about any of this," she said bitterly. "Men make all of the decisions and women are left to suffer the consequences." Once again she pulled away from him and wrapped her arms around herself.
"Marian…"
"No!" She held up a hand to block his advance. "The King decided to go off on his holy quest and you could not wait to follow –"
"So, now I am to blame!"
"Yes. No." Her shoulders sagged in defeat. "It is no one's fault. Or it is everyone's." She scrubbed her hands over her face. "Mine. Yours. The King's. Guy's." She sighed tiredly and drew her cloak more tightly about her. "Every decision we have made has led us to this place," she concluded. "And I see no way out."
"If he were dead –" Robin again suggested in a low, controlled voice.
"You would be a murderer," she said flatly. "And could not live with yourself." She closed her eyes and lowered her head. "His blood would be on both our hands and I could not live with that."
"Marian." Robin pulled her back into his arms. "I love you. You cannot ask me to go."
Marian took two stumbling steps away from him.
"You must go," she told him sadly. "Go, and forget me."
She forced herself to walk toward the open door of the stable.
"Can you forget me?" he called to her retreating back, his voice thick with tears.
She stiffened and sucked in a deep breath.
I must, she thought to herself. I must forget about him and all our plans.
"Goodbye," she called as she stepped into the sunlight and away from the life she once thought she would live.
Resolute, she did not turn around and instead plodded forward, eyes down, concentrating on placing one foot in front of the other as she walked away. Upon reaching the manor house, she was startled to find Guy standing in the doorway. She looked up and saw that his eyes were fixed on the open field behind the stable and her heart began to pound frantically for she knew beyond any doubt that he was watching Robin make his way toward the tree line that denoted the edge of Sherwood. She stood before her husband in a frozen terror and each second that passed was an eternity.
Finally, she gathered her courage and chanced looking up at him to find that he had returned his attention to her. He said nothing but instead reached out and traced gentle fingers over the tear tracks on her cheeks and there was a marked sadness to his expression when he met her eyes. After a long moment, he stepped back politely and she entered the house, flustered and confused by the feeling of guilt which washed over her as she felt his wounded gaze follow her.
TBC
A/N: I am writing – as steadily as life will allow. I've spent a good bit of time today doing some minor research for an upcoming chapter. While I cannot promise a specific timetable of updates, I can say that I've never left a story uncompleted once I've begun posting, and that "writing" the story in my head consumes a fair amount of my time while going about my mundane chores or commuting to and from work. I have a great deal of it plotted out in my head but need time to string all of those various scenes into a comprehensive story.