Summary: A dark temptation visits Joanna when she sees Guy of Gisborne going about his business for the Sheriff. Maybe it would save the peasants from being terrorized, or would it?
Fandom: BBC Robin Hood
Relationship: Pre Guy of Gisborne x OFC Joanna Long (enemies to lovers type)
Content: A bit dark, thoughts of committing murder, mercy, guilt, and mention of a potential future relationship. Typical medieval stuff.
Note: in medieval England, a female outlaw was called a waif, or waived.
Note 2: this is a one-off short fic. Joanna is technically my OC for RP.
Face claim for Joanna Long: Keira Knightley.
Joanna became alert instantly; hoof falls on the road had caught her ear. It could be some filthy rich merchant or the tax collector setting out to squeeze some poor soul dry. Setting an arrow, Joanna peered around the massive tree- oh heavens, it was neither.
It was the Sheriff’s right hand man, Sir Guy of Gisborne, returning from squeezing the peasants of their money. He wasn’t alone though; some of his men followed behind. He rode ahead, his expression quiet yet grim, a menacing figure in black on his horse.
Heart pounding, Joanna bent her bow quickly, then raising it, sighted that vital place; near the second wolfheaded clasp on his jacket. All she had to do was release the bow string- the peasants would be freed from future terror because of her arrow through Sir Guy’s breast.
True he wasn’t alone; she would be pursued and hunted to earth by his men, and killed too.
But she’d have relieved the poor of one of their oppressors at least.
Sir Guy stopped for a moment, possibly wary of the quiet forest, in perfect placement for the killing shot. Joanna readied herself, fingers poised to release her string and send her arrow flying. In a moment, he’d be falling, staining the leaves and earth with his blood…
He looked so peaceful, innocent almost, as he looked about (save for his features being sharp and grim); his dark waves danced in the breeze, and his gray blue eyes were so beautiful in the afternoon sunlight. He was like a wolf; dangerous yet beautiful in a peaceful moment.
She couldn’t do it. Joanna lowered her bow softly, realizing that she was trembling at what she’d nearly done; murdering a man who wasn’t hunting her or the others at the moment.
Maybe it was easy for Sir Guy to kill; maybe it was easy for Robin to attempt to kill him that one time, for all his righteous talk about not killing people- but she couldn’t do it, not for all the poor in the shire.
If she killed now, could she ever sleep again? Killing a man wasn’t ever the same as killing a deer- not even if the man was Guy of Gisborne with more blood on his hands than the simple waif could even imagine.
But too- how could she make herself kill him at all?
For all his deeds and Robin’s own righteous talk against him, the handsome Black Knight fascinated her in some strange dark way she couldn’t explain.
“Heaven help him to change, and forgive me for wanting to take his life,” she murmured as she slipped away quickly and quietly before she’d be spotted and hunted down. She may have spared Guy, but she didn’t expect him to return that favor if ever he captured her.
“Ride on.” Guy’s eyes keenly scanned the trees as he started forward again. He was more than certain, very certain someone’d been watching him. Well, he was returning with a larger force to comb this area very shortly; his few men weren’t enough.
He wondered too whether it wasn’t that waif spying on him; the one with those large brown eyes and short light brown hair who’d formerly lived at Locksley. Guy’s mouth twitched; she had a way of being around despite the risks of capture and a swift death. So amusing. Well, they would meet very soon; he would take pleasure in squeezing everything about Hood from her, and maybe more. It would be a shame to waste a pretty creature like her on the gallows tree.
Welcome to the darker side of love.
1. My heart is not for one person alone. It is a central, most prominent, and perhaps most powerful commandment in all wisdom.
2. And all my glory, O king of kings, is yours, O King of love. A word of praise to the highest God for the people of England who have been saved from the darkness.
3.
