Part II: Guy

Marian is alive. Guy kept repeating it to himself as he wandered aimlessly through Sherwood, waiting for it to sink in. He had barely been able to listen to her story of survival back at the camp, he had been so focussed on the way her lips moved, the curve of her neck, the curl of her hair. He had been captivated by her presence - like a sunflower turning to the sun – although he had kept mostly to the shadows, out of shame and a bit of fear.

Marian had seemed surprisingly unruffled by his presence in the outlaw's camp, and had accepted the explanation Robin had given without any comment or question. Guy had noticed the difference in her – she seemed harder, somehow, subdued in her manner, as if nothing would surprise or alarm her.

He hadn't the courage to approach her immediately after she had finished her story, instead allowing the other outlaws to welcome her back and converse. It was how he lived now, keeping silent and as much out of the way as possible, trying to make the least impact on their lives as he could. Guy didn't consider himself part of the gang – it was a means to an end, and he was not truly their friend or comrade. In fact most of the time he felt like an intruder.

So he had watched Marian talk with the outlaws, embrace her old friends and finally, begin to converse quietly with Robin. That conversation in particular had interested Guy the most, and there had been a part of him that was pleased to see that she did not kiss or embrace his once rival. In fact, she didn't look too happy with him, and it wasn't long before the two had walked off into the forest together. Or rather, Marian had walked off and Robin followed.

Guy had left the camp in the opposite direction to contemplate the turn of events. He could guess the cause of Marian's displeasure – the girl Kate had embarrassed herself and had made sure that Robin would not be able to hide his indiscretion with her.

It had been much to Guy's surprise to find Robin and the Locksley girl engaged in some kind of romantic entanglement, primarily because Guy found her to be shrill young thing, but also because Robin had played the part of the grieving widower so well. However Guy had felt a certain kind of satisfaction in that his grief had remained pure, that he had remained faithful to Marian's memory when Robin had not. He didn't count his time with Meg – he had provided comfort to a dying girl in her time of need, he had not gallivanted around with her like Robin had done with Kate.

Now Robin was likely to pay for it, and Guy could not help but feel a treacherous rush of elation at the thought. He clamped down on the feeling immediately – Robin had accepted him into his gang, he had overlooked his hatred and vengeance and had defended him against the protests of other members of the gang. They had found a common ground in the family and goals they now shared, and Guy knew that he shouldn't let their rivalry destroy that.

And of course what he had done to Marian continued to weigh heavily on his conscience, even knowing now that he had not killed her. Guy could not pursue her knowing he had committed such an act of violence against her, had betrayed her trust and friendship in such a way. He could not yet ask for her forgiveness, let alone her heart.

No, he would step back, and allow Marian to approach him – to do what she wished with him.

It took most of the night in contemplation for Guy to reach that conclusion, and so he decided not to go back to camp. He had spent many nights in Sherwood with only the stars for company, and sleep brought him peace and certainty in his choice.

It was well into the morning when Guy awoke, the sun strong enough to pierce through the canopy and warm his face. He was surprised, however to see that he was not alone – Robin was leaning against a nearby tree, arms crossed over his chest and watching him patiently. His expression was not the friendly one he'd been wearing around Guy recently.

"Get up," Robin ordered, his voice hard.

Guy sighed and dragged himself wearily to his feet, stretching out the morning kinks in his neck and back. "Mornin'" he said pleasantly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Robin scowled as he straightened himself and uncrossed his arms. "Believe me, Gisborne," he answered. "The pleasure will be mine." Then Robin removed his sword from his scabbard and discarded it, and Guy remembered the last time he had done that it had not ended well.

"Really?" Guy asked with a tired resignation, but all the same he removed his own sword and threw it down into the dried leaves that blanketed the forest floor. "Can I ask why?" he continued. Did Robin think he intended to pursue Marian? Or perhaps he was just unhappy with their reunion and needed someone to hit.

"Because this is all your fault," Robin asked in a clipped voice as he removed the dagger from his belt and cast it aside. "So you didn't kill Marian," he continued darkly. "You still wounded her, you still separated her from me – everything that's happened is because of that."

"It's not my fault you couldn't keep it in your quiver," Guy spat back, suddenly angry. He would not be blamed for Robin's indiscretions, and all of Guy's charitable thoughts evaporated. Once again Robin was the spoiled, selfish child who couldn't accept the consequences of his actions. "If Marian doesn't want you anymore that's your fault."

Robin growled and lunged at him, throwing the full weight of his body against Guy and sending them both to the ground. Guy found purchase in the leaves first, but Robin was angrier and swung wildly, punching Guy in the eye. In response Guy kicked Robin in the stomach and he flew backwards onto the ground, winded. Guy used to opportunity to pin Robin to the ground and punch him in the face. Robin managed to block the second punch with his palm, and quickly rolled over, twisting Guy's arm behind his back and holding it there before kneeing Guy in the side. Pain blossomed in the area and Guy growled, throwing his entire weight to launch Robin off his back and back into the leaves.

Guy collapsed onto the ground himself, wincing as he turned onto his back. He looked over at Robin, who was breathing heavily and did not seem inclined to rise. It was an old dance between the two of them – probably too old. Guy suddenly found the whole situation rather amusing and began to laugh.

Robin looked over at him strangely, but Guy could not stop himself. Then Robin began to laugh as well, running a hand over his eyes and resting his head back against the leaves.

Perhaps it was because they both finally realised that it was never competition between them, or should not have been. Neither of them could win Marian – she would decide who she wanted to be with herself, and their petty squabbling would have not influence on her decision, or do either of them any good.

Or perhaps it was because they had realised, begrudgingly, annoyingly, that they didn't mind one another's company. Robin had sworn that he would never forgive Guy for killing Marian – but he hadn't killed Marian. He could still blame Guy for their separation, for the grief he had felt, but to Guy it seemed as if Robin kind of liked having him around. It was an uneasy alliance at first, but there was something deeper there – almost something close to brotherly.

They could fight each other for the rest of their lives, but nothing would change. And that was rather funny. So they lay on the ground, sore and tired but laughing as if they couldn't stop.

"I'm glad you find the situation so amusing." Marian's voice cut through the air, and the two men were immediately silenced.

Guy got to his feet, wincing as he did so and pressing his hand against the flash of pain in his side. Marian was standing a few feet away from them with the same passivity she had shown the previous night. But she had evidently cleaned up, and Guy noticed that her hair was brushed, her face cleaned and that she was wearing new clothes – he could not help himself from admiring her beauty which was undiminished.

Still, her arms were folded over her chest and her mouth was in a firm line, so Guy did not allow his gaze to linger noticeably. Robin got to his feet beside him, and sheepishly pawed at his cheek where Guy had punched him.

"So you've been fighting," Marian assessed them, "and then laughing." She sighed and shook her head. "I suppose I should find all of this strange. Well, not all of it," she added with a wry smile. "I kind of expected the fighting."

Guy wasn't sure what to say, and he looked over at Robin, but the other man was preoccupied with the ground around his boots – he kicked at the leaves absently and didn't raise his gaze.

"I suppose I should be happy," Marian continued, evidently not requiring their participation. "This is what I wanted, after all, for the two of you to work together." The smile fell from her face and her expression became stony once more. "But I don't see why you couldn't have come to embrace this camaraderie when I asked it of you."

"It's different now," Robin finally looked up and tried to explain. "We share family."

"Am I not your family?" she asked him, a tremble in her voice. "You were never willing to align yourselves for my sake, yet you have done so for him? A man you don't even know? A man to whom your reconciliation meant so much that he abandoned you at the first opportunity?"

Robin scowled, but evidently did not have an appropriate response. He collected his sword and dagger from the leaves near Marian's feet and then without casting another glance at either of them, stalked off into the forest. Guy watched Marian watch Robin, and her gaze lingered for a while after he disappeared into the trees. Then she sighed sadly and then turned back to Guy, her expression unreadable.

Guy waited for a while for her to speak, but she fixed him with an expectant look. He broke eye contact and looked down at his boots. The sunlight which filtered through the trees reflected off the blade of his sword that lay a few feet away and Guy felt the bile rise in his throat as he remembered the sword he had thrust through Marian's belly. He had met resistance, but in his rage he had not stopped; he had followed through like everyone else he had killed in his life. Guy clenched his fists, but it only reminded him of the tightness of the grip he'd had on his sword, which had only slackened when she had fallen to the ground, taking his blade with her.

And yet she stood in front of him, waiting for an explanation he didn't know how to give. He swallowed heavily.

"Marian," he began, he name sticking in his throat. "I know nothing I can say can change what I did," he continued, his eyes on the ground. "I know you must be very angry with me."

"Angry doesn't quite describe it," she said coolly. "I don't think a word exists to describe how I feel." He willed himself to look up, and she pierced him with a challenging gaze. "You hurt my father, Guy," she continued. "You coerced me into an engagement, you destroyed my house, you let the Sheriff keep me under house arrest. And even after all of that," she added, "I still believed that there was good in you."

Her disappointment was even worse than her anger, Guy realised, because she had given up on him. Not that he should expect another chance, of course, but to have the last sliver of hope shattered was worse than he expected. And it was the difference in her that unsettled him further – Marian had always been so vibrant, so passionate, but the woman who stood before him seemed dulled, like a poor copy of Marian. And it was his fault.

"I'm sorry, Marian." He didn't know what else to say – it was the only thing he could say.

"Perhaps I should be glad my death had such a positive effect on you," she pressed on, and there was a harder edge to her voice. "Except it didn't, did it?" she questioned. "You and Robin were still ready to kill each other until you found out about your brother." Before her ire on the subject had been directed at Robin, but now it had turned, rightly, to him.

"It did effect me," Guy told her thickly. "More than you know."

Marian stared at him for several long moments, as if searching for something – sincerity, he supposed. Finally, she signed and broke eye contact, and the first cracks seemed to appear in her cold façade. "I suppose it was too much to expect that you would change because it was the right thing to do," she said softly, her eyes on the trees to her left.

Her point was valid – if he had changed before, it would have been for her sake, and he had only allied himself with Robin now because of Archer and Isabella.

"I can change," he told her, willing himself to believe it. "I've changed already."

Marian looked back at him sceptically. "So why now?"

He'd given everything to get power, and it hadn't been enough, or close to worth it. He'd held Meg in his arms, another woman who had died because of him, and knew that he never wanted to experience that again. He'd seen the fulfilment that Robin and the other Outlaws got from helping others, the love they had for each other – a love that he'd not experienced since his parents died.

"I do want to be a better man – someone worthy of the expectations you once had of me," Guy told her, and found that his words were the truth. "I know that things can never be like they were between us," he added quickly, struggling to keep his voice neutral. "Not that I ever really understood what was between us. You love Robin," he cast his eyes downward, the words almost too painful to speak. "I accept that."

Marian cast her gaze back to where Robin had disappeared into the forest with what seemed like longing – or perhaps regret. Guy had come to realise that he had misinterpreted every interaction he'd ever had with Marian, and so was finding it difficult to read her.

"I'll leave if you want," he offered, although his heat begged her refusal and he could not keep it out of his voice. "I'll do anything you want."

"No," she told him, turning back and for the first time the ghost of smile appeared on her lips. It wasn't the vibrant smile he remembered, but it was a start. "I wanted you to be here, and you are," she nodded to him. "I'm glad that you're here."

Relief flooded him, and Guy managed to smile at her in a way which he hoped conveyed his gratitude.

"Your brother may come around yet," Marian continued, taking a seat on a nearby log from a fallen tree and folded her arms over her knees.

Cautiously taking her up on the unspoken invitation, Guy took a seat near – but not quite beside - her. "Robin seems to think he will."

Marian smiled to herself. "Robin sees the best of everyone," she said. "Eventually," she added after Guy could not keep his expression from souring. "I think he was afraid of you, Guy," Marian said, and Guy could feel her eyes on him. He looked up at her, brow furrowed in confusion. Hood had never seemed afraid of anything – it was one of his more infuriating qualities.

"Not in the usual way, of course," Marian said lightly. "I think he knew how easily he could have become you – if he'd had different experiences, or made different choices. He needed to hate you because he hated that part of himself, his potential for ruthlessness. Do you understand?"

Guy wasn't sure that he did. Robin had always been the golden child – Lord Malcolm's son who was favoured and petted and adored. He'd never had to struggle like Guy, to have to resort to the darkness because it was the only way to survive. And yet, Guy knew that wasn't quite true – he'd seen himself reflected in Robin's eyes that day when he'd held a red-hot sword to his cheek, when they'd fought over Marian's death in Locksley. Robin wasn't just the carefree, spoiled child he'd known, and in the past weeks he had realised that Robin carried burdens and regrets just as deep and painful as Guy's.

"I'm starting to," Guy answered evenly.

"It was surprising," Marian said after a moment's silence, "to hear about this Archer." Her mouth twisted slightly with derision at the name. "Although I do wonder why you never mentioned that Gisborne was once part of the Locksley Estates," she added.

Guy was surprised. "I thought you knew," he answered simply. "When I came back with Vaisey – I thought you knew who I was." He'd certainly remembered her, at the time being rather shocked that the small girl who ran around in pigtails and rode ponies all day had turned into a beautiful woman.

"I was but a girl of five when you left," she told him with a small smile, "and sheltered by my father. How could I possibly remember?"

Guy nodded. "There's nothing left of Gisborne," he said with regret. "When I came back, I went there, but not even the foundations remained. Maybe that's why I wanted Locksley so badly." He found it easy to admit that bow, when he didn't need to worry about impressing her.

"And what do you want now?" Marian asked. Guy searched her expression for any hidden motive or sign, but it was as neutral as ever.

"I want to take back Nottingham from Isabella," he said with fervour. "I want to find Archer again, and help him if we can. And…" he paused, unsure how he should proceed. But Marian gave him a small smile and an encouraging nod. "I want, someday, to prove to you that I have changed. That I am not the same man as before."

"None of us are the same as before," she told him wistfully, but she placed on encouraging hand on his arm. "But we can try to be better."