Little by little, we learn about Ajsa. Hint: I write nothing without good reason.

williewildcat: I like Marian most of the time, but I obviously don't like that she leads Gisborne on. However, you'd be surprised just how much her goodness manages to rub off on him. That's one of the things I will explore in this story.

fiamma71: Yes, Armitage's own thoughts about Guy are definitely in the back of my mind when I write this story. I, too, am trying to capture the dichotomy of good and wicked, hard and gentle that he so clearly struggles with. It's a lot easier than one would expect, probably because there are already so many examples I can follow from the show (kudos to Armitage).

Thanks, all, for the continued interest! *hugs*

Disclaimer: I only own Ajsa.

Chapter 4: Witches

Ajsa watched aghast as the chair was submerged. Soldiers were gathered around the pond in the center of Locksley, with the Sheriff and Guy of Gisborne sitting at the crux of them. Even from the other side of the pond, she could see the bald man's glee. Mary and the other servants had told her about Vaisey, how he'd once ordered Gisborne to cut out villagers' tongues, until someone would confess Robin Hood's whereabouts. No one had, but apparently it had been Robin himself who had saved the day. Ajsa had expected that. She'd heard whispers of the beloved outlaw even before Guy had acquired her, and he seemed almost too good to be true. So of course, like the other villagers, she was waiting for him to stop this madness, as well.

A woman's angry shouts drew her attention. She had been condemned as a witch, Ajsa knew. And the punishment for that was dunking. It wasn't the first time the girl had witnessed it, but she was no less appalled now than that first time, all those years ago.

While her fellow servants wondered if the woman really was a witch, Ajsa was certain the Sheriff had merely created the charges on a whim. There was no gravity surrounding this dunking, nor was there a priest present. On the contrary, the atmosphere-for Vaisey, at least-was jovial, though Gisborne's disposition spoke of boredom, as he absently took the grape his superior proffered him.

The second dunking lasted longer than the first, and when the poor woman was finally brought back up, Ajsa feared the worst. Then a scream pierced the tension, startling even Guy and the Sheriff, who, quite disturbed now, quickly ordered her to be submerged again. Another interminable wait followed, the anticipatory silence broken only by the murmurs of the villagers, then the chair was raised a third time. But the body was missing.

The onlookers gasped. Some made the sign of the cross, while others glanced around fearfully, as though expecting to see Satan himself, with the purported witch by his side. The Sheriff looked furious, and Gisborne shouted a command, but a brunette woman, who Ajsa had not noticed before, was grinning. She was rather pretty, and after Guy had finished with the guards, he joined her.

Considering the horrors she had heard about the man, Ajsa was surprised to see his features transfigured when he spoke to the woman. Gone was the hard expression; it had been replaced with one infinitely softer. So the Devil's henchman had a heart after all, she thought, and it was ensnared by the pretty brunette.

"Come, Ajsa, back ta yer duties," said Mary, herding her towards the house with a hand between her shoulder blades. "If the Master returns and sees ye idle, he won' be 'appy."

But he did not appear very happy now either, Ajsa noted, as she glanced at him over her shoulder. The woman was riding away, leaving a scowling Gisborne in her horse's dusty wake. The girl smiled, instantly liking anyone who could make her master resemble a jilted lover.

If Ajsa resumed scrubbing the floors with a touch more enthusiasm than was befitting the chore, the other servants attributed it to her strange, foreign ways.

#

Much later, when Gisborne arrived at Locksley Manor, he wasn't surprised that the slave girl sat with her face upturned to the sky. This was how he had found her nearly every night lately. Stabling his stallion, he walked over to her, looming above her seated frame.

"Will you finally explain what is so damnably fascinating about those stars?"

She didn't look at him, as she said, "They change."

Instinctively, he glanced up but caught himself and reverted his attention to Ajsa. She seemed sad again, though mercifully did not appear to have cried tonight.

"Of course they change," he retorted. "The seasons change, too. Do you also marvel at the turning leaves and the falling snow?"

Now she looked at him, those moss-green eyes suddenly alight with anger.

"Have you ever been wrenched from your home?" she inquired acerbically. "From your family, your kin?"

"Actually, I have," he replied, regarding her coolly. "Your...circumstance is not a happy one, I grant you that, but do not think you are unique in your suffering."

"Oh, no," Ajsa said dryly. "How unfortunate you are to be a free man, to have wealth and position and a home to call your own."

Guy hauled her up and grasped her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his.

"You know nothing," he spat. Her previously mocking expression had given way to a cautious curiosity, which only enraged him further. "My life is neither comfortable nor easy, and I have done things that would quell even your defiant spirit." His hand trailed down her neck, gloved fingers caressing the hollow of her throat. "I have been patient thus far, but I warn you to be careful with the liberties you take. One day soon, I might not be quite so tolerant."

"Yes, well, until that day dawns, I will continue to assert what little freedom I have."

Despite knowing that the stroking hand could just as easily squeeze, Ajsa did not oblige him with the subservience he had obviously expected. His eyes darkened dangerously.

"Why do you not fear me?" he demanded.

The hand on her neck tightened into a fist, and for an instant, she was afraid he might hit her with it. But it merely withdrew to his side harmlessly.

"I do not fear you because one who has lost everything has nothing left to lose," she replied, her voice strangely hollow.

The sudden change in her demeanor perplexed Gisborne, as just seconds ago, she had been glaring at him with her head held high. Now she appeared to fold in on herself, her arms hugging her still-thin frame. Before he could reply, she stepped away from him.

"By your leave, Master, I would retire now."

He considered making her stay and answer his multitude of questions, but he was worried that would result in tears. And if there was one thing Gisborne could stomach less than Hood and Vaisey, it was a weeping woman.

He waved his hand, dismissing her. She hurried inside and shut the door behind her. Guy stared at the spot she had vacated, lost, against his better judgment, in theories about Ajsa.