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"It is an emergency, please," Marian dictated pressingly to the guardsman, "I have to see him. Immediately." The silver man nodded and continued down the corridor of the castle, plates of armor clanging as his knees bent for locomotion. The metallic figure eclipsed incoming sunlight as Marian pressed her chin into the thin side of her open door, practicing her routine mentally. After a moment she retreated back to her quarters and awaited her visitor's arrival. The Lady Knighton was reviewing her clothing choice in the polished metal mirror at the rear of her room when the knock came, making her heart freeze and then burst back into overtime, giving her mind a million thoughts. She had selected to pull a dress out of retirement that was quite flirty. Originally bestowed to her during one of Sherriff Vesey's stints to scam a German count out of money at gambling, she planned to let moths take advantage of it and suck up the fabric; now, though, she needed the suggestive nature.

Marian clicked open the wooden barrier of privacy to her chambers to reveal Sir Guy of Gisborne propped against the doorframe with his elbow. His head was low as he looked up to see her pale face.

"Guy, I am so glad you came. Please come in." she hurriedly said as he passed the threshold. She was quick to close the door.

"You called for me?" he lowly grumbled as his arms folded inside the leather jacket to cross his chest and shield his now active heart. Gisborne could now allow his anger and hatred for Marian to flow as freely as the river he had kissed April by; he was no longer crippled by the constant beatings of his blind affections.

"Yes." She stepped over to the window and shot him a glance to follow her. He declined the invitation and scratched his beard for a moment as she puckered her lips and fell silent. Guy released a hefty exhale; an itch of annoyance scratched at his veins and scrunched his jaw as he recognized Marian wasting his time yet again.

"And what is it that you needed so desperately that I could not finish my supper?"

"You," she twirled to face him with doe eyes and a deep draw of air that puffed out her chest, "I needed you, Guy. I need a man that can protect me."

"From what?"

"Anything. Everything. Guy, I need to know that you are there… for me. And every one of my needs." She strode slowly to him and stood up close to his abdomen, her height substantially less. She stared up with deep felt wish. Gisborne blinked repeatedly and turned his head down to the left.

"Marian…" he slowly muttered, "Why now?"

"Because I cannot wait." Lady Knighton gave a schoolgirl's grin. The smile parted pouty pink lips that drew attention like a black hole; but Gisborne knew he could never trust anything that came out of it. After all, black holes only absorb and destroy without giving anything back.

"Marian, I cannot give you unlimited chances." He explained. The words held a hardened shell but both of them could hear the weakness that lie beneath. Marian put her hands to his cheeks before he jerked away, but it was only a moment before the muscles brought him back to her.

"I know I have wronged you. I know that I have been distant at times," she swallowed and accepted that she had to tell the whole truth, "I have actually been distant at most times. I have hurt you and I have neglected you when you are so valuable to me."

"As a friend?" Guy questioned, cushioning himself and being certain that she could not possibly insinuate it romantically.

"As so much more." She whispered. Gisborne tugged out of her touch and darted to the other end of the room, a hand running through his shaggy ebony hair. The curls bounced back to attention and form as he wiped his nose and peeked back at Marian of Knighton. He turned away again in an instant and pounded a fist to his forehead a few times. She watched as he became spontaneously on edge and anxious, nearly to the point of shallow breathing. Guy fiddled momentarily with a buckle on his jacket but lost focus just as he had with everything else in the past thirty seconds. There was so very much to think about.

Was this true; was it possible in this universe? He streaked his palms across his face as he raged a ferocious battle within his mind to stick to one idea at a time. The major concern was simple: could she be trusted. He was utterly unsure of whether or not she was telling the truth. On numerous occasions he had taken her word and, whether he knew it or not, had been plainly lied to. There was usually an inkling of deception that he could draw up from the well of his heart and eventually, as well as reluctantly, cast aside. In this moment Guy found himself isolated and disoriented in a floating sea of uncertainty. It appeared as though no layers of anything had been stacked atop her words; Marian was baring her heart and doling out concentrated veracity. And yet how many times could he become so fascinated with a candle that he would burn his fingers? If he turned her advances away he could be shutting the final opportunity to be close to Marian, all chances of intimacy on any level cut away. But what if he took her word and ran with it? What could be the consequence besides another sleepless night and chapter of shame?

April. Oh goodness, little April of Derbyshire. In this episode he had completely and totally been oblivious to her. The past two weeks he had known her had been on noble importance in his life, he couldn't abandon this road before knowing how far it stretched or what lie at the end. Perhaps a rotted log obstructing the path or perhaps a sustaining body of water; could he live without knowing? Her hands and lips intertwined so perfectly with his it was as if they were molded and forged to be accompanying pieces. Was he crazy for being so adamant about her after only such a brief period? Was she a better lover than Marian could be?

Oh Marian was a drink that he wanted to wanted to gulp from the cup for so so long. His thirst for her seemed eternally unquenchable, a sort of damnation by his own mind. A forbidden fruit; and it was well known that Gisborne prefers a challenge. Yet how sweet was the nectar he got from the girl who ran the local orphanage? Much more than he could fit into simple words. What was a man to do when his heart was not damaged but rather split apart and aching for another half which he could not decide on?

Marian was rather surprised that he was delaying any action. In fact, she was wondering why his arms were not wrapped around her waist and holding her steady for another kiss. Why did she want to taste it so badly when she had denied it for so long? What a fool she had been, she thought to herself. Where in the world did she expect to get the same level of affection and concern? Marian's thoughts crashed into Robin of Locksley – oh, she had forgotten him in her animalistic craving. What a good man he was and what a hold he had on her heart. But he left her so often, and Guy was always about. That had to say something. Gisborne had fought for her more than Robin ever would she falsely believed.

Guy raised a hand to her and signaled a halt, psychologically trying to push her away. He didn't know. He wasn't trying to avoid hurting anyone, he just didn't know. He knew nothing about anything at this time which caused a severe panic in his chest. He managed to say her name once more and look up into her hazel eyes; they were clear with innocence. Gisborne could not take this pressure any longer. He took large strides to the door and showed himself out with vigor, leading to rapid steps down the hall. Where he was headed was still a mystery but he knew he could not stay there. It was as if air had turned to wet cement and blocked his lungs as it dried to weigh hundreds of pounds. Hopefully fresh air would do him good as he tried to decipher his next move.