I haven't forgotten about this story or my lovely readers! I had two anthropology conferences, after which I got sick with strep throat and have been catching up on the work I consequently missed. But I'm back now.

fiamma71: Oh my dear, you never have to apologize for reviewing, even if you think it's late (which, by the way, it isn't). I am always so grateful for your feedback, as I am for everyone else's, as well. In every story I write, it is my main goal to make the OFC independent and fully-formed enough to where she can stand as an interesting character, with or without her love interest. So I'm incredibly pleased that you think Ajsa is such a character. Trust me, you're not the only member of the "Guy, come back home!" committee. :) Rest assured that he has returned safely.

GoodGuest: Thank you for reviewing again! I'm glad to see you. :)

partygirl98: I love Much! I think he's my favorite after Allan, though I obviously also have a soft spot for Guy. ;) There's some Much in this chapter that I hope you'll like (I hope it's not too spoilery!).

Savage Kill: Good, I'm glad you can't tell if she was lying to Robin. That was the point. The truth will be revealed in this chapter (part of it, anyway)...or will it? Jk, what Ajsa says in this chapter is true. She was close with her father, yes, but that's not who Allan reminds her of.

Summary: So, Guy returns, as does his sister. How will she impact his relationship with Ajsa? More of Ajsa's past is revealed, yet this also leads to more questions. I think you gals (guys?) will like the ending. ;)

Chapter 14: Gratitude

Ajsa and the gang walked through Sherwood Forest after a successful hunting trip. Much and Allan each carried a brace of rabbits, engaging in their usual lighthearted banter.

"All I'm saying is I shot them. Would be nice if someone else offered to cook them," complained Much.

The men's attention alighted upon Kate and Ajsa.

"Don't look at me just because I'm a girl," Kate protested.

Allan grinned. "Oh, I think it's established Much is the girl around here."

"What about you, lass?" Little John asked Ajsa hopefully.

"I am a girl," she agreed, "but I would not even think to rival Much's skill in stewing rabbit."

The blond man, however, did not appear to have heard the compliment. He seemed to be stewing his indignation, instead.

"Hang on, Allan. What is this about? I am a man in mind and body."

"Yeah?" challenged Allan, his piercing blue eyes lit up in amusement. "Prove it."

But Much's reply was cut short as Robin and a black-haired woman joined them. They were panting, like they had been running from someone or something.

"Turn back," Robin instructed. "We've got company. Our old friend, he's back from the prince's court."

"Gisborne is?" Ajsa inquired, surprised.

Allan shared her sentiment. "What? I thought he was dead."

"Evidently not," quipped Much, still offended by the insinuation that he wasn't a man.

They sprinted from the path into a field, with four men on horseback pursuing them.

"What are we doing?" demanded the black-haired woman. "We can't outrun them."

"Don't worry, we're not going to," Robin assured her.

Tuck led them towards a small ledge. "Follow me!" Without hesitation, he jumped off it and landed on another path below. Ajsa ran with Allan, but when she reached the ledge, she balked. It was higher up than Tuck had made it seem.

"Come on, luv," Allan urged.

He grabbed her hand and leapt, pulling Ajsa along with him. They landed roughly but safely on the dusty road, followed closely by Robin and the woman. As they fled into the woods, Ajsa glanced back and saw Gisborne astride his horse, scrutinizing a piece of cloth. To her simultaneous relief and disappointment, he did not see her.

The guards still trailed them, so they split up and would meet at Nottingham. Allan, Much, and Ajsa were to go west through the marshes, but they never reached them. Soldiers closed in on all sides, forcing the group back together.

"There must be hundreds of men," remarked Allan, as his companions rejoined him.

"Yeah, there are," nodded Tuck. "And they seem to know exactly where we're going."

"Or where they want us to go," Robin deduced gravely. "We've been herded."

Much paled. "Like sheep."

"Like lambs to the slaughter," Robin corrected him. "They've been tracking us. They've exhausted our arsenals. I've one arrow left!"

"So how do we get out of here?" Kate asked.

Robin eyed the guards that were now visible between the trees. "Well, there's only one way left to go."

It was true that one direction still remained clear of soldiers, but Ajsa felt nervous about it. If Guy and his men really were herding them, then the gang was walking straight into their trap.

As she had feared, they were corralled into a small clearing. Gisborne awaited at one end, partly blocking a large, covered cart.

Robin did not appear to be surprised. "Looking well, Gisborne, for a dead man."

"Be assured that your death will be real, not rumored," retorted the black knight.

"You must have made quite an impression on Prince John," Robin observed, his gaze roving over the prince's elite guards.

"A better impression than you have," replied Guy. His attention flicked to Ajsa. "Come here, woman."

Ajsa hesitated. She knew that whatever Gisborne planned for Robin and his friends was terrible, and she was reluctant to abandon them. She owed her freedom from the Sheriff to the gang.

"What will you do to them?" she asked.

Gisborne smirked. "Oh, you'll see. Now come here, Ajsa, or share in their fate." Allan and Much stepped closer to her, and Guy barked a scornful laugh. "You really believe you can protect her? Only I can do that, because I'm in control here, not you."

"Go, Ajsa," said Robin. "For once, I think he's telling the truth. You're better off with him in this case."

Ajsa grasped Allan's hand and squeezed it briefly, before going to Gisborne. He helped her up onto his horse, his arms surrounding her as he retook the reins.

"Goodbye, Hood," he growled and directed his horse off to the side, away from the covered cart.

A guard standing atop it pulled the rope to lift the door, and a huge, maned animal jumped out with a roar. Robin's gang instinctively huddled together, weapons drawn, as the giant cat stalked towards them.

"Seems a rather apt way to dispatch such virulent supporters of the Couer de Lion," announced Gisborne smugly. "He hasn't been fed for days. I wanted him ready for ya."

The prince's men began to bang their spears and swords against their shields, spurring the snarling predator forward.

"Sir Guy, this is madness," Ajsa hissed.

"Quiet," he snapped. "Be grateful you're not there with them. It's where you deserve to be for joining with them the moment I was gone."

"If I had known you would be this depraved, I would have remained with Robin and his friends."

His hands tightened around the reins, knuckles turning white from anger. "Watch your tongue, slave, for you may still share their fate."

Guy's attention was diverted, though, when a yellowish powder suffused the air, making the horses rear and the men cough.

"Mustard powder," he shouted. "Cover your faces!"

Gisborne pushed Ajsa's head forward into the mane of his horse, and he bent low to avoid breathing in the powder. He galloped back to his camp, tension radiating from his body as Robin managed to elude him once again.

"Regroup, I want Hood found!" he bellowed.

"What was that thing?" Ajsa inquired, glancing nervously at the cart.

"A lion," said Gisborne. "A deadly creature from Africa. Prince John received them as gifts from various African rulers." He dismounted and watched as Ajsa slid from the saddle, then took her arm. "Stay here," he commanded. "If you wander off, I cannot protect you."

"Why not just let the lion eat me, too?" she retorted and wrenched herself out of his grip.

He scowled at her. "Provoke me further and the thought may cross my mind."

Gisborne gathered his men and left the camp. It was only about a half hour later that he returned, more furious than ever, with the black-haired woman in tow. Ajsa flinched as he upended a table.

"Why are you here, Isabella?" he asked.

The woman looked at him imploringly. "I could not endure another day."

"So, what? You just walked away?" he questioned. "You were joined in holy matrimony."

"I was only a thirteen-year-old girl. If you have any idea what he has done to me..." Isabella trailed off, regaining some of her composure. "Guy, I'm your sister. All I ask for is protection."

Ajsa's eyes widened when she heard that. They had not spoken much about their families, but Gisborne had never once mentioned he'd had a sister. Now that she saw him and Isabella standing across from each other, there was definitely a resemblance.

"Well, it seems you've already received that from Robin Hood," Gisborne said, then glared at Ajsa. "As have you."

"I knew nothing of his true nature," Isabella insisted. "I was in need of help, the help I'm asking from you now."

Guy crossed his arms across his chest. "Really? And what if I were to send you back to your husband?"

"Then you'd be condemning me to a life of misery for a second time. Only this time, you'd be doing it knowingly," answered his sister. "Guy, I don't believe you knew the damage you were doing when you sent me to Squire Thornton, but now you do. Surely you must feel some obligation towards me, a sense of loyalty, duty."

Guy rounded on her accusingly. "Loyalty? How can you speak of loyalty when you have twice aided and abetted Robin Hood?"

"A mistake, and one I will not make again," Isabella said firmly. "Give me a chance, and I will earn back your trust and respect." Her blue eyes which were so similar to her brother's softened, a flash of fear and pain replacing their previous hard glint. "But please do not send me back to my husband."

"Very well," said Gisborne, also softening slightly. "You may stay."

"Thank you."

Guy placed a finger under his sister's chin and tilted it up. "But if I find you in Hood's company again, I will drag you back to Shrewsbury myself."

"You have my word," Isabella promised.

Gisborne nodded once and left the tent. Isabella's attention turned to Ajsa.

"You were with Robin Hood, too," she stated. "Why does my brother not threaten you like he threatens me?"

"He did," Ajsa replied. "But I am his property, and, as you well know, men are very possessive of their property."

Isabella gave her a wan smile. "Then you and I are not so very dissimilar. I, owned by my brute of a husband and you, by my brute of a brother."

"Yes," Ajsa agreed faintly. She poured two goblets of water and handed one to Isabella. "But you mistake my relation to your brother. I am his slave, not his wife."

"Yet he would protect you even after finding you in the company of his enemy?" asked Isabella, startled.

Ajsa shrugged and sipped at her drink. "I do not understand his mind," she said. "Nor, do I think, I wish to."

The other woman smiled at that. "In that we are in accord."

Ajsa was about to reply, when a commotion at the gate drew her and Isabella outside. They joined Gisborne at the mouth of the tent to watch Robin Hood stride into the camp, unarmed but still somehow cocky. Guy motioned for his guards to hold their attack.

"Welcome," he greeted.

Robin grinned and folded his hands behind his head. "I like what you've done with the place, Gisborne."

"I wasn't expecting your visit," replied Guy, earning a chuckle from the outlaw.

"Well, I find that very hard to believe." Robin's gaze settled on Isabella. "Given him a full report, have you?"

Gisborne answered for her. "There'll be no further conversation with my sister," he said coolly. "She knows where her loyalties lie."

"I'm sure she does." Ajsa noted that all traces of humor had left Robin's face, and his eyes blazed with angry determination. "So, would you like to hear my demands?"

"Demands?" echoed Guy, with a short, dry laugh. "Please, demand away."

"It's quite simple, really. Get out of my forest."

"Yeah, that's a reasonable request. Let me think," mused Gisborne. "Kill him."

Before the guards could capture Robin, nets fell down onto them upon the outlaw's command. He climbed atop the cart and pulled open the door, freeing the lion. Guy yanked Ajsa and Isabella back, while the guards simultaneously tried to avoid the beast and seize Robin Hood. They were, unsurprisingly, unsuccessful.

Gisborne was composed, almost resigned as he prepared his horse. Isabella followed him.

"Guy, what about your men? You can't just leave them."

"They failed me," he answered nonchalantly.

"Is that why you gave me to Squire Thornton?" she asked, sounding dejected. "Did I fail you, too?" Gisborne remained silent as he tightened his stallion's saddle. "Why won't you answer me? Don't you owe me that, at least?"

"I owe you nothing," Guy finally replied. "I did what was best."

"For who? You?" Isabella accused. "You did nothing but condemn me to Hell, and I demand to know why."

Gisborne looked at her sharply, his tone brusque as he said, "You're a foolish girl, and you do not understand the world."

"No, I understand perfectly. I just want to hear it from you." Isabella paused, and Guy averted his gaze from her. "Why did you give me away?" He did not answer, so she repeated the question more forcefully.

"Because he offered a fair price for you, that's why," snapped Gisborne. A tear slid down the woman's cheek, but Guy was not moved by it. "So, do you still require my protection?"

"You know I do," his sister said softly.

Gisborne hauled himself into the saddle, proffering a hand to Isabella. She took it, and he helped her up behind him.

"Am I to remain here and wait to be eaten by the lion, like your men?" Ajsa asked tartly.

She had been so quiet during his argument with Isabella that he'd completely forgotten about her presence. He glanced down at her, deliberating.

"I need to go the castle, and I'd rather not bring you there," he explained. "Return to Locksley Manor. I'll meet you there shortly."

"Understood, my lord," she said. "And which way is Locksley Manor?"

Guy huffed impatiently. "East. You'll stumble across the village eventually, but if you don't, I'm sure Hood and his outlaws will be happy to find you again."

Spurring his horse forward, he did not see the rude gesture that Ajsa mimed at his back. Sighing, she picked up the skirt of her kirtle and set off into the forest, east, she hoped, towards Locksley.

#

After stumbling through the undergrowth for over two hours, Ajsa finally emerged from the trees onto a hill that looked down upon the village. The townspeople eyed her curiously as she made her way to the house, recognizing her as the slave who had been taken away by the Sheriff's men after Gisborne was presumed dead. Precisely why she'd been removed from Locksley Manor, they did not know, but some of the more intelligent townsfolk believed that her return heralded that of Gisborne's.

And they were right, for not even twenty minutes had elapsed since Ajsa's arrival before Guy's stallion was thundering towards the house. Thornton greeted him with a shocked expression.

"My lord," he said quickly. "We were not expecting you...so soon."

Guy stabled his horse and scowled at the manservant.

"Or at all, from your reaction." He stalked inside, shedding his sword belt and jerkin as he went. "Have Mary start my dinner and send some of the servants to retrieve my things. The camp is due west of here."

Thornton nodded and disappeared to do his master's bidding.

"Ajsa, where are you?" Gisborne called loudly.

The woman poked her head around the doorway to the kitchen.

"I am here, Sir Guy," she answered, flinching when his angry gaze turned on her. "I was just about to cut up meat and vegetables for a stew."

"Let Mary do that. You come here." Ajsa stepped out from behind the door frame and wiped her hands on her apron. Grabbing a pitcher of wine from the table, she filled his goblet. He grunted in thanks, taking a deep, long drink. "Now," he said forebodingly, "explain to me why you were with Hood today."

She glanced down at his empty cup and reached for the pitcher again. But his hand on her wrist stopped her. Those crystal blue eyes stared back at her, their fire reignited.

"He saved me," she said simply.

"Saved you?" inquired Gisborne. "From what?"

"From the Sheriff."

Guy's features darkened, his grasp on her wrist tightening slightly but not painfully. "Explain."

"Vaisey was sending me to Hungary to acquire funding for a plot to overthrow King Richard or Prince John or Heaven knows who, but Robin Hood and his gang intervened."

Ajsa watched as Gisborne's brows rose in surprise. His grip loosened and let go entirely when she tugged her hand away.

"Who did he plan to get this money from?"

"The Hungarian king."

Guy sat down on the bench, a look of astonishment still on his face.

"And you could actually do this?" he asked.

"No," she said, with a scoff. "If I had that power, do you not think I would use it to free myself from the bonds of slavery instead? The Sheriff merely assumed that I am...was...a noblewoman."

"But you were a noblewoman," Gisborne argued. "You said your king favored your father with land and title. That, in England, makes the two of you nobles." He paused, waiting for her to disagree. "Does Hungarian custom differ?"

"No," she said, so quietly that he barely heard her.

He tipped his head back and closed his eyes. Thomas had done it this time, that idiot slaver. If someone were of a mind to come after Ajsa, the repercussions would be unpleasant for Gisborne. Only pagans, prisoners of war, and non-Christians were allowed to be taken as slaves, but Guy was in possession of a damned Christian noble. He could have laughed at his shit luck.

"I have already assured you that no one will come searching for me," she reminded him. There it was again-that uncanny ability to know his thoughts.

He lifted his head to fix her with an irritated look.

"Yeah, you did, but now I wonder what you did to fall into Thomas' clutches."

Ajsa's eyes narrowed, and Gisborne felt a pang of excitement at the familiar show of defiance.

"Nothing," she spat angrily.

"I'm not a fool, Ajsa," he said, pouring himself a second goblet of wine. "Pretty, Christian noble girls don't become slaves."

"I was a healer," she said, shrugging. "Ugly, Christian noble men did not like that."

He grinned, pleased with himself to have wrested the truth from her.

"So, you were branded a witch, were you?" Ajsa flinched at his words. "Why not burn you at the stake, then?"

"Why do you think?" she retorted. "Money. I was more profitable to them alive than dead."

Gisborne suddenly remembered her limp. It had been the result of a broken ankle, she'd said. She had not elaborated on the circumstances, but now he thought he knew them.

"Yet you didn't escape unscathed."

Ajsa averted her gaze, staring intently at a table leg. She did not look up even when Guy approached her and placed a finger under her chin.

"What did they do to you?" he asked gently.

She shook her head, but he framed her face with his hands and allowed his thumbs to stroke her cheeks.

"Ajsa, tell me." For the second time since meeting him, Guy implored, instead of commanded. She slowly raised her gaze to his, tears shining in her eyes. His stomach lurched at the sight. "Come," he said. Gisborne led her up the stairs to his quarters, his wine and supper and belongings forgotten.

Seating her on the bed, he knelt at her feet.

"What did they do to you?"

She shook her head again, the first of her tears spilling over, with more forming in their wake. Contrary to popular opinion, Guy did feel for others, and now, like with Marian after her father's death, he longed to console Ajsa.

But he checked the urge. Ajsa was not Marian; she was neither as warm nor as welcoming to another's sympathy. And she had good reason not to be, considering her experiences of late.

"It's all right," he reassured her. "You don't have to tell me."

"They did not break my ankle, if that is what you are thinking." He gave her a half-smile, because she'd anticipated his thoughts again. "That was my own doing when I tried to flee from Thomas." He furrowed his brows, and she smiled sheepishly. The momentary brightening of her features made his heart soar. "I lost my footing while running down a steep hill."

"But it healed?"

She nodded. "I fashioned a splint."

Guy murmured in approval, then did something completely inappropriate. He twitched aside the bottom hem of her dress to expose her ankles and brushed a finger over the one that had suffered the limp. Ajsa had tended to it well; there was no sign that the bone had been broken at all.

"You're skilled." He glanced up at her, his touch lingering on her skin and his breath stopping in his throat at the expression on her face. Gone were the tears. They were replaced by curiosity, tinged with admiration. Never before had he seen such an emotion directed at him. "I-I'm sorry," Guy said quickly and draped her kirtle over her ankles again. "I overstep."

Ajsa slid from the bed to the floor, crouching so that they were at eye-level.

"You do not," she disagreed. "You are, after all, my master. And as such, you may do with me as you please." He opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. "Even were you not my master, you do not overstep." He tried to respond again, and once again, the words did not come, for she had leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

"Gratitude," she said softly.

Standing, Ajsa stepped carefully around him and walked from the room, leaving a stunned Gisborne still kneeling on the floor.