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Guy found himself reclined in the same wooden chair from last night, mind groggy, neck broken from his positioning. His head rolled over to glance out the window. The panes were streaked from being washed with dirty water so the sunlight filtered in with a soft glow that didn't irritate his freshly awoken eyes. His brain cleared up images and he realized that a small face was watching him from outside. Gisborne hardened his expression and saw the little girl slink away from the glass back to the yard; he must have slept in if everyone was already running around. His muscles were concrete and his bones shattered as Guy maneuvered himself from the seat and to an upright stance. He replaced his shirt and jacket tenderly, letting out a sigh as his spine reminded him of the wounds, and patted himself to be sure he was presentable and prepared to leave. As he took a step towards the door, April made her way in with a home-made broom and two boxes. Her thin stature looked inadequate for even that small number of things. Gisborne took the crates from her and set them on a side table, moving them from her face so her grin was visible.
"Hi." She giggled to him.
"Good morrow," he smiled back, "I see you're up early."
"You're up late."
"You didn't throw me out." Guy gladly noted, but she just waved her hand.
"Sleep is good for you, trust me. There is bread left over in the kitchen if you-"
"No, no, really I should go."
"Oh…" April seemed surprised; she also stunned herself at the assumption he would stay. She recognized it was silly to think he would be around. He could see the touch of disappointment crawl onto her and decided that, for his own sake, a different subject would be best.
"What's all this, then?" Gisborne prodded at the chests and accidentally slipped a poorly shaped lid off; inside the gleam of crowns absorbed his attention. There was nothing on this planet that could keep him from the hypnotic draw of cash. Guy felt his jaw slack and slid on the mask of official business, the glare in his eyes the same one he generously hands out to farmers, the adam's apple in his throat sliding with a swallow.
"Donations from the church; every service has a charity box for the orphanage, why?"
"Are these taxed?" he winced at the automatic override of his behavior. After the question poured out he pinched the bridge of his nose and apologized.
"It's just local contribution, relax," she brushed some hair from his face and held his cheek, "everybody needs charity."
"I do not require handouts from anybody," he vainly threw out with a smirk, "I am one of the wealthiest men in England." Guy edged forward and leaned on the table, able body poised to impress her. April simply raised a brow and snapped the lid back in place.
"You may not need money, but everybody needs charity of some sort."
"Oh, really? And what could I possibly need from the peasants?"
"In my opinion, Guy," she matched his stance and pride, "you require someone to donate time. You need someone to give compassion, you need someone to listen. You need somebody to understand you. Am I close?" Her smile was not smug so much as softening; Gisborne turned away and felt struck by her clear reading of his necessities. He sniffed and started to leave before April took his hand, gentle fingers taking his. He looked at her and meekly reflected a grin before, to his surprise, she kissed his lips with hers. "Lucky you I am a generous soul."
"I ought to take donations more often, then." Guy said with a sultry layer before bringing her body into his. The fabric of their clothes felt negligible as they were pressed into each other for several deep kisses that little eyes peeked in on, each kid disgusted for a different reason. Most of them felt an aversion to romance since puberty was an upcoming event. The others, however, were still not completely sold on Guy after what James had told them. They wanted nothing more than to return the motherly instinct that April had wrapped them in during their stay; keeping away the Sherriff's henchman came with the territory.
"April, I'm hungry!" Melissa screamed at the top of her lungs. Gisborne and his love broke the moment and looked at the seven year old standing in the center of the doorway as the feet of others scampered away. She laughed and went to the child, stroking once through her fiery red hair, and kissed the crown of her head. Guy scoffed and rolled his eyes with arms tucked up across his chest. No matter how much he loved April he hated kids. She held Melissa's hand and brought Gisborne to the door along with his newly soured attitude. He nodded goodbye without regarding the adoption candidate, growling a bit once he was free of earshot.
"Say, Guy," April called from the cottage, turning him one last time, "That money is going to put up a second house for the older kids, give everyone a bit more room." The man in black softened a bit at her voluntary gift of truth about the crowns he so foolishly cared for earlier; his hopes to reconcile their issues had not gone to plan per say, he didn't particularly have one in fact, but the outcome was grander than he could have realistically foreseen.
Gisborne allowed his mind to wade around in fanciful waters on the horse ride back to Nottingham. Although he had to return to do business, he did not let any serious clouds cover the ocean of his imagination. Each sector of the castle boasted a ghost from the future; when she was his wife, what memories would they make on these front steps? And how many times would he hold this door open for her? As silver skinned guards clanked past he was shaken from wistful distractions. Guy touched the elbow of one of his commanders and matched his pace, heading into the castle and, unknowingly, past Marian of Knighton.
"I need you and your men to do me a favor… this is a direct order."
"Yes, Sir. What can we do for you?" the yellow sleeved military man halted to face his superior, absorbing the directives and formulating Gisborne's plan as he spoke.
"Gather your men, you will be busy all week."