Set during Season One, Marian has married Guy. Please read and review, this will turn into a multi-chapter story. Thank you ^.^

Guy

The day had been beautiful. God- be it Allah or Jehovah or any God thereafter or before- had blessed Locksley with sun, birdsong, cheer in people's hearts where there had previously been no capacity when concerning me.

Marian would fix all. Just as I wished to care for her, protect her… heal her in any way I could… that was, if there was anything of her to polish.

She was faultless, though. Not a petal of her personality was stained with expiration, her age became her instead of ruined her. She was a woman- yes, a woman now and if not now, soon enough as I saw to by husbandly duties- who I would proudly walk to court with on my arm. Pretty soon now, she would be in my arms. For good.

Her words at the altar had been simple and content enough. I had tried my best not to be intimidated by the cross around the priest's neck and reminded myself that it was a theme of blasphemy to think that Vasey was akin to Satan; Vasey was nothing.

I made an effort, though I lost the trial, to ignore the forced smile that had been on Marian's face for the duration of the hours we had so far spent together. But, could you truly call a smile a smile when it is filled with such silent mourning?

I was conflicted with how I should act. Should I pretend to be ignorant of her love for Hood? Or, should I confront her about it?

I felt, in my gut and heart, that she was marrying me for Hood, in some way. I felt part of some intricate heist.

But I did not care if I was the fool in this matter. I would, definitely, in any other matter. But with her canorous glory at my side, the days of fiery debates to anticipate and the warmth of her purity…

I could not care if I was to be killed at the end of this day. For, this day- this holy, sanctified, aseptic day- was to be the one that began to lift the sins off my scales for judgement day.

"A fine girl, Gisborne. Though I wouldn't have thought she of all people would have gone for you." I agreed, whole-heartedly with the pompous Lord who was looking up at me, sunlight bouncing off his egg-like head.

I grit my teeth- today, I would not let go of this goodness. But, surprisingly, someone came to my rescue.

"Trust me, I'm surprised as anyone that he, of all people, took me."

I stared at Marian- at her ringlets of glossy, brown hair and her dark, mossy eyes- allowing only for seconds to show my shock at her words.

Lord Up-Himself raised his eyebrows.

"You'll have fun tethering and taming this mare, Guy." I licked my lower lip, grip on my goblet tightening as I stared out at the huddles of people filling the green around Locksley Manor. I held back my snarl- for Marian's sake more than anything. I will contain my temper.

"I like my head where it is, sir. Besides, I did not marry her for her compliance. I married her for her."

Marian seemed equally shocked at my words, although she turned her emotions to the ground and tucked her white veil behind her almost elfin ears.

Lord Unctuous had ambled away by this point, bored, and I took the opportunity to speak to my wife alone for the first time in our marriage.

"Do you want to take off that veil?" I asked her, judging by the look of it that it was quite itchy.

She bared a glorious smile, red lips smooth to the eye… but it did not meet her eyes.

"I do not know if I am permitted to do so."

"As your husband-" did she flinch as I said that? – "My care is for your comfort… and that does not look comfortable." She held back a smile that told me I was right. "Turn around." She did so.

I leaned down and began to unhook the tiny, brass clips that held the netting to her hair, trying hard not to pull at the little hairs. My eyes wandered along the nape of her white neck, following the V of lighter hairs that travelled down, stopping at the top of her concealed spine…

When the veil had been released, I held it out to a passing maid and asked her to leave it in the entrance hall of Locksley.

Marian turned round.

We stared at one another for a few moments as the wind rustled pleasantly through the trees metres away.

I tried to keep my eyes accordingly on hers instead of letting them feast on her appearance.

"The gold… it becomes you," I gestured to her dress.

"Thank you," she replied, ever civil. Her hand suddenly flitted towards me and my eyes widened as she froze… then continued with her action.

She stroked the red silk at my neck and it was then me who was frozen.

"A colour, at last, aside from that constant black."

"Would you prefer I wore gold?" I teased. I was anxious not to scare her so my voice was quieter than usual.

She laughed courteously and dropped her hand.

"It would make a… change."

I took a deep breath and clenched my teeth as she stood at my side.

Three hours later

The room was gilded with fulvous flickers that warbled on the walls like my heart in my chest.

How much longer would it take her to come here?

I rubbed my index finger with my thumb anxiously and debated with myself whether I should put a shirt or top on. Would it be better if I was bare-chested or clothed… what would worry her more? I was grateful I had a relatively robust, healthy body…

My legs tensed in my white cotton braies and I found myself staring at my bare feet-

Terrified, much like a small boy preparing for his first kiss.

I heard a swallow at my door and jumped out of my reverie, eyes swiftly moving to the door.

There she stood. She too was wearing white braies, but hers were silk and billowed out from her small waist, around her wide hips and to her ankles. Her feet, slender and white, were close together and as I stood- eyes roving to her chest where a white chemise sat, not covering her shoulders- her left foot moved nervously on top of her right.

Her chest was hardly rising at all but her breaths were quick and her eyes were set firmly to the wooden floor, her hands held modestly under her stomach. I noticed how she picked at the skin of her thumb.

Was she just as nervous as I?

Marian

Do not cry, Marian. Face your duties. Do not think of Robin… do not think of him… think of your duties… breathe, breathe, breathe…

I stood at the doorway and looked at Guy, sitting with his wide, muscled chest exposed. The fire of the candles lit him in a heated orange glow. He was undeniably attractive, any other maid would gladly take up this role…

But I could not stop the slivers of fear rolling over my bare shoulders, feet and hands.

I tried to gulp away my dread at the prospect of having to be so near him, so intimately… and before I had even been like this with Robin…

I could not hide my gulp. His head turned to the door and I shot my eyes down to the floor; I could not look at him.

My breasts, unsupported, felt colder as he stood up from the bed and stepped toward me.

His long, toned arms swung slightly at his side as he came closer and I concentrated my sights on his fingers-

God, where did I have to let those fingers roam?

I did not know the correct protocol for such a situation and felt instinctively that it was mainly up to Guy to perform his side first. I knew very little of how to correctly act out my part… did he? Surely, he must do, after the rumours that flitted around the castle. Something at the back of my mind twinged as I recalled whispered giggles and fluttering eyelids when he prowled the hallways; I wondered if I had ever been like those women- whether I had acted so flirtatiously unconsciously.

I had been aware when I had tried to seduce him but my motives had not been truthful; was this God's reprimand for my perjury?

Before I had time to prepare myself properly for Guy's touch, his hand was on my arm. I felt his warm, rough thumb rub over my bare shoulder and closed my eyes in dismay as my squirm escaped me.

We both stood still, only the wind outside and our breathing filling the space with sound. Soon, I could hear my heartbeat as it pounded it panic, heart scared of the unfamiliar touch that was not Robin's gentle caress.

I found that Guy was more than capable of being gentle. He gingerly lowered his head and looked, eyelids hooded, into my eyes, both his hands moving to rest on my hips. His lips neared mine and I inhaled, nostrils filled with smells of cinnamon and wine. Shockingly, this scent sent a pleasured zing down the middle of my body, which buzzed slowly as his lips pressed on mine. The rest of his body remained an inch from me. But no matter his gentleness, I still wanted to bolt from the room and bathe a thousand times to rid myself of the tormenting sensation that spiders were crawling across my skin.

My hands balled into fists at my sides as I felt him kiss across my cheek, unshaved skin grazing my jaw, up to my ear, behind it, down my neck…

I bit my lip. Hard.

I held back my stinging tears and complied, numbly, as his hands splayed in both of mine, his nails dragging over my palms…

But this motion did not displease me. In fact, it pushed a subconscious part of me to hold tightly onto his hands for comfort. My numbness stumbled somewhere in my chest, unsure as to where it should tread now that my mind was changing.

His breath tremoured on my shoulder and I felt goose-bumps rise. One hand moved from my hip to the spot and stroked slowly as he turned my body with his, walking me backwards and kissing my mouth lighter and lighter, teasing and encouraging me to make a move. He was being… patient. Was this possible?

I did not like walking backwards and, somehow, Guy sensed it.

He moved from me and I swallowed again incredulously as my body swayed towards his, almost rueful at his departure.

He sat at the end of the bed and looked into my eyes, imparting a message to me that for a long while I simply did not comprehend.

He reached out his hand, offering it for mine and I dolefully consented. With the smallest of tugs he indicated that I should move toward him and I did…

Absolutely fascinated with his gentleness. So much so that the tears nearing the edge of my eyes seemed to come for relief and awe and not despair and heartache.

My mouth opened of its own accord and I watched Guy's pupils dilate. As his thumb smoothed my knuckles, I examined his linear nose and unconsciously let my shoulders drop, the deep blue of his eyes hypnotising me in such a surreal way that I hardly noticed him part his legs.

"Turn around," he whispered, his eyebrows slanting with a feline grace I had not noticed before now. Prior to this unprecedented moment, he had seemed predatory in a beastlike manner. Never had I felt this primal urge, pulsing so slightly under my ribcage… never, even, with Robin.

Robin… I had forgotten him so quickly…

Guy

I tried to work slowly, patiently. I would not go too fast and scare her. Safety: that was what I offered.

She was, it appeared, stunned. Like a drugged animal, she moved around me, tensing often as I kissed her skin and stroked her body through those undergarments.

Heaven could offer me no greater requital; nothing could compare to her dream-like splendor, her curved frame and scent.

I was in awe of how far she let me go. It was so unlike Marian to go down without a fight. I'd expected a row and I'd been served with a scarily uncharacteristic quiet that unnerved me.

But I kept my slow pace, tried to read her tiny gestures, attempting to find movements she liked; she enjoyed.

That first kiss had set a dulcet silence upon the night that I could not equivocate.

As I stood by her, momentarily admiring the curve of her breasts beneath her chemise exposed through the fabric by the candles, her lips parted. They were so full, so tempting...

She stiffened as I had walked her toward the bed- would it be better for her to be in control? That was her general preference...

I returned to my seat at the foot of the bed and my throat tightened- another layer floated to the top of the love I had for her. My body ached to take her quickly, roughly- but her pain was out of the question and I was certain her chastity was not yet purged- it would be sinful for me to covet her so selfishly.

I wanted to get that chemise off her, though. Wanted to see more of this delicate beauty. Maybe if I kissed her more intimately, seduction would be easier.

I reached out my hand and hers fell gracefully into mine, like a floating leaf. I felt the pulse of her heart, deep and rising, through her finger.

Her body relaxed as I intensified my stare.

"Turn around," I whispered, for the second time that day- were my intentions just as good as this afternoon? I checked myself.

It was all going so peacefully, so calmly-

Then she freaked, a spooked horse terrified by a rustling in the bushes. An instinctive snare snapped inside me and my light hold on her hand turned to a tight grip that even I winced at.

I had no clue what to do from there.

"Guy-" her voice was shaky and almost inaudible. A shiver ran down my spine as I heard the fear.

No. I would not lose her now, not when I was so close.

"Marian," I threatened, though truthfully the threat was empty. This was going to take more effort. I could already see regret in her eyes. "You're not being honest with me," I said, slowly.

"Where did that come from?" she asked as I let her hand go.

"You've had that look in your eyes most of the day. Do not start our marriage with deceit."

She began to breathe quickly through her mouth.

"I am true-"

"To who? Your husband?" Shut up, shut up, shut up!

"Do not put pressure on me." Her eyebrows shot up then down on the word 'pressure' and she seemed to cut the word from the air with a swift blow of her hand, her lips thinned.

I shot up and stared her down, arousal turning to frustration.

"Tell me the truth," I snarled, voice just louder than a whisper.

"I. Have."

My stomach tightened and my nostrils flared quickly. I inclined my head, eyes penetrating hers as humiliation bubbled from a bottled prison in my chest. Ignore or confront? Fate had chosen the latter.

"To Hood!"

She paled at this and her once warming eyes were now cold and alarmed.

"I am not in contact with the outl-"

I glared at her and she fell quiet.

"Waiting for me to fall asleep so you can run to him and weep about my brutality?" I shouted, walking around her to the chair by the door. I took a black thermal undertop from the back of it and yanked it on as she stood there, shoulders shaking with her breaths.

She turned and raised her hands to her chest, fingers pointed to me as she tried to dig herself out of this one.

"Guy, I-"

"Spare me the sob story and get out," I spat. We were both shocked at that. No, no! I thought. Idiot! "Wait," I said as she began to move. My eyes closed on the word and I pictured a way to sort this out without her leaving.

Guy

His eyes opened as my arms dropped to my sides; I tried to stay confident and not quiver in his presence like a berated dog. But the way his chest heaved with his anger made me shrink inside- there was a reason why Vasey chose Guy for the torture rituals. I was married to this... This for the rest of my life, temper always chasing his goodness away.

I had not yet admitted contact with Robin and I intended to keep it that way.

I needed Guy to bed me so he would believe in this marriage, so the mirage was complete. Words did not come though. Lying, after being so suddenly enchanted by Guy instead of loathing him, had become impossible. It made me hate him even more and I shook as I randomly remembered how he had slapped my father.

"I will not wait for a cur!"

His mouth curved up to the right, left side slack and his now slitted eyes moved to the floor. He shook his head and his thick black locks tousled over his forehead. His chest puffed out. I recognised this: his anger was beginning to chill to plain, icy spite. The expression elicited a stir in my stomach but it was not one of hate... I could not place the emotion...

He looked up and his eyes were... Warm. He smiled and I could not detect his usual glint of pleasure before a stabbing insult. Instead, I saw defeat and sincerity. His hands clenched by his hips, tendons in his wrists tensing and biceps following suit. A gulp travelled down his throat, making his Adam's apple jump.

"Have you ever tried cherries?" Somehow it humoured me to hear such a fanciful question. I stared at him, confused.