Summary: Summer of the year 1196, England. Conflicts old and new fester in the heart of the kingdom. The famed Richard the Lionheart isn't there to settle the strife. Five outlaws led by Robin Hood have sworn to fight for and protect England from the evil Prince John and sheriff Vaisey. But this time they're joined by an unexpected ally, whose past casts a shadow of doubt on his future. War stands on Nottingham's doorstep: The final battle has begun.
Disclaimer: I don't own Guy of Gisborne (however much I wanted to) or any of the Robin Hood BBC characters.
Ink black darkness enveloped him as Guy of Gisborne entered the Sherwood Forest.
He could barely see the outlines of the trees; he held out one hand, trying to feel his way through the thicket, while keeping the other on his sword's hilt.
He kept thinking about the day that ended a few hours ago; he seemed unable to gather his thoughts in the daylight, and so, almost every night, he found himself in the dark forest, not at all friendly but somehow familiar.
Pale, silver light penetrated the branches and led him further into the heart of Sherwood. The first time he'd wandered here, it was by accident after a bad row with the sheriff, not long after their return from the Holy Land. Guy clenched his teeth as he remembered his lord's words from that day.
Useless. Pathetic. Weak.
He stopped as he came upon a small clearing, bathed in moonlight. He remembered. Remembered everything. Every little, painful word anyone has ever granted him – he'd kept that hidden from the world's eyes, locked away safely at the back of his mind.
As the years kept passing by, pain became bitterness, bitterness in turn became anger, and anger very quickly led to hatred. Hatred that drowned him over and over in its suffocating depth; hatred that burned him alive; hatred that made him lose all things that became precious to him. Made him lose Marian.
The only person he ever loved, truly, madly, deeply. And yet... he managed to destroy her too.
Guy fell to his knees, grabbing handfuls of his dark, messy hair as if he wanted to pull the memory out of his head. He remembered with a painful precision how she smiled; how she laughed... he still felt her warmth on the tips of his gloved fingers... still saw her blood on his sword's blade.
God, how did it become like this? Why was everything in his life so wrong? Why did he become... and just what was he?
His hands rested on the back of his head, as Guy tried to gather his thoughts again; to pull himself out of this dark trance.
He was a killer. A man not worthy of pity or emotion. He was a proud man, though he had nothing to be proud of. He was on the edge of usefulness, like the Sheriff had said. Guy hated himself even more for being a subject to a clearly evil man, a monster. Did that make him a monster too?
Then, as if he finally understood something, his face brightened; but it was only a deathly, terrifying glow that set both his eyes and heart afire.
It was a moment before he stood again, clutching the unsheathed broadsword in his hand, watching as the night sky reflected from the perfectly forged metal. A thin, fleeting smile appeared on his face; it now bore resemblance to a white marble carving more that human flesh.
'A last favor to the world' He thought bitterly. 'And no one would ever find me'.
His skin was set burning by the moon's silver shine, as he raised his sword in front of him, pointing it to his chest. He wasn't afraid of physical pain; he only hoped to find forgiveness in the eyes of the world. He wanted freedom, he wanted eternity.
'A last favor to the world' he thought, and in one swift movement buried the sword in his chest.
A searing pain shot through his body, knocking him to the ground. He tried not to struggle, as dark waves crashed over him back and forth, and as life began to drain out of him.
'To die, and be forgotten'. He breathed heavily, feeling his heart beat slower; his gloved hands were now wet with blood that dripped from the deep wound.
He lay still in the heart of Sherwood, waiting, wanting for death to come.
Guy of Gisborne closed his eyes.
He saw a tall figure clothed in darkness. Its hands were held out, as if inviting. The space around it was filled with a ghostly, green light that danced and flickered as if it was made of pure fire, though it gave no warmth. Guy reached out his hand, finding that pain has left his body, leaving only a cold darkness; falling all around him like a suffocating cloak.
Then, suddenly the figure took a step back, withdrawing its hand. There was a small breath of wind and then the gloom started to clear. Excruciating pain shook his body from the inside and he looked away, trying not to scream. When he was able to look back up, the figure was gone, along with its ghostly aura.
'To die' he heard voices echoing all around him. He tried to open his eyes, but couldn't; It was as if he was blind. 'To die is not of your choice' they sang, and Guy felt yet another wave of blinding pain crash over him. He couldn't cry out, he could barely breathe and wasn't able to move at all.
'To die' the voices mocked 'Is to start living anew'.
And then at once it was all gone. The pain, the voices, it was all gone.
Guy felt nothingness above and below; nothingness filled every part of his being.
And then he breathed again.