To be Worthy

Chapter VII

SUMMARY: Betrayed by his latest master and mocked by the cruel hand of destiny, Sir Guy of Gisborne returns to Nottingham twenty years after his banishment determined to reclaim the life which should have been his.

AUTHOR: Lexie aka lillianschild

RATING: Mild R for this chapter

FANDOM: Robin Hood

PAIRING: Guy/Marian

GENRE: Romance

Disclaimer: Tiger Aspect Productions and the BBC are free to claim whatever they own of this piece, except Guy's thoughts and my words which are ours to keep. lol.

A/N: Set in an alternate Series 1 where Guy has never met Vasey before his arrival in Nottingham, this fic will explore what impact an earlier acquaintance with Marian might have had on Guy's life and ultimate fate.

CHAPTER VII

Guy woke up with a splitting headache and a searing pain in his shoulder. He was drained from all energy and found no strength left in him to either cry or moan. And even if he had had an ounce of energy left in him, his tongue and throat were too dry to articulate a sound.

Surveying his surroundings, he tried to remember how he'd ended up occupying one of the castle's rooms when he'd spent the previous nights in a tent, lying in a modest cot. Clearly someone had carried him here while he was unconscious.

Dawn was breaking, judging by the light coming through the small window. He had slept at least twelve hours.

Closing his eyes, he went over the events of the previous day, the lance shattering and the excruciating pain following the collision. Carefully, he raised his uninjured arm and touched the bandages and the sling. Lady Marian. She'd tended to him. Even now he was able to feel her hands undressing him, robbing him of breath.

He remembered the agony that followed and which numbed every sensation until she administered the draft the friar had prepared. After that, his memories became disjointed.

Her hands so gentle and graceful. The delightful wrinkle which appeared when she knotted her brow in concentration. Her tantalizing lips, red as ripe cherries waiting to be plucked. All this he was able to feel, see and even taste in the most vivid of dreams.

He heard his own voice confess how much he admired her soft skin and felt his lips tingle with the memory of his mouth brushing against hers as he gently tasted her sweetness with the most delicate of kisses.

His heart had fluttered with joy and hope when her arms had slid around his neck before she stepped closer into the circle of his arms.The tender warmth of that first kiss then turned into unbridled passion. For a brief moment Guy considered putting an end to the intoxicating liplock, knowing himself unworthy of her, but the passionate response of her maidenly mouth under his made him reluctant to give up savouring a piece of heaven willingly bestowed.

Suddenly, the kaleidoscope of images swirled and he was holding her close with no barriers between them. He trembled as her pebbled peaks came in contact with his naked chest and her strong thighs, strengthened by her hours in the saddle, opened to cradle the proof of his desire. Her hair smelled like wild thyme and apples, reminding him of his early childhood, the only time he'd ever known happiness. Pressing a trail of heated kisses along the delicate column of her neck, he felt the quickening of her pulse when his hand brushed one luscious breast.

No words were uttered; they somehow seemed irrelevant when so much was being communicated with a simple brush of their lips, a look or a caress. His fingers threaded through hers and gently, as if she were made of the brittlest china, he touched her.