|
Post by Margaret d'Anthony on Jul 4, 2009 13:33:58 GMT 1
Oh what the hell she says I just can't win for losing And she lays back down Man there's so many times I don't know what I’m doin' Like I don't know now
By the light of the moon She rubs her eyes Says it's funny how the night Can make you blind I can just imagine And I don't know what I’m supposed to do But if she feels bad then I do too So I let her be
And she says oooh I can't take no more Her tears like diamonds on the floor And her diamonds bring me down Cuz I can't help her now [/size][/i] It was early in the morning, before too many people had come to life out in the streets. Margaret had made her way from Loxesly to the castle grounds, to the stables to visit the horses there. Her own horse was to be shipped to her from her home, but unfortunatly Songbird had met bandits, no not Robin Hood's men - but coldhearted ruthless bandits. And so Songbird was no more.
Margaret stood at the stall of one of the horses, a tall powerful bay horse, stroaking it's muzzle. Resting her forehead against the creatures powerful face.
"You know what it feels like to be a caged animal don't you. Never allowed to run free." As she spoke she realized she was no longer alone.
Lyrics by Rob Thomas Her Diamonds
|
|
|
Post by Sir Guy of Gisborne on Jul 4, 2009 23:14:13 GMT 1
Guy had been up early that morning; the warm, muggy atmosphere interfering with his sleep. Still, one he was awake, he decided it would make sense to do something productive. It hadn't taken him long to dress in his customary black leather and walk down through the sleepy castle to the stables to the rear of the courtyard. Even the horses had been quiet. Guy had let himself into the stall of his black mare and set about brushing her glossy coat.
The time had scudded by since then and Guy had become lost in the trivial satisfaction of the tasks at hand. It wasn't until he heard the stable door creak open that he even remembered the outside world could impede on this private haven. He blinked a number of times, frozen in the process of tipping oats into a feeding trough. Carefully he placed the bucket down and moved to the door of the stall. Not wanting to disturb the girl he saw standing a few feet away by another horse, he leaned his arms on the top of the stall gate, simply watching her.
However, it didn't take her long to realise he was there. He saw her body stiffen as she began to turn towards him. In response, he pushed open the gate and entered back into the main stable. "Good morning, my lady," he said, his deep voice gruff from lack of use. Acknowledging her, he bowed his head a little stiffly. Guy had never been good at social niceties. People didn't usually want to be nice to him. Still, it was worth a try. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of making your acquaintance."
|
|
|
Post by Margaret d'Anthony on Jul 5, 2009 11:47:36 GMT 1
Margaret jumped slightly at the gruff voice, jerking around sharply and staring at the man who had spoken. She realized she had starred too long and dipping a curtsey that looked strained. She stood back up tall with a bit of a smirk on her face.
"Margaret d'Anthony, and you?" She gave a sweet smile, as she looked him in the face. Surprised by hime sounding some what gentle. She knew Guy would never try to be nice, and yet he was. She had been in Nottingham all of a month, and never once saw him dispaly kindness to a any soul.
She walked steadily over to the stall where, Guy was, leaning her hands against the frame work of the stall. She gave another smile, realizing, again, that she stared too long and too hard at him. It was improper, and rude, and hard not too do.
"And what brings you to the stables so early?"
|
|
|
Post by Sir Guy of Gisborne on Jul 12, 2009 21:55:38 GMT 1
Guy stepped back slightly as she approached him, not entirely comfortable in the company of women, or anyone for that matter. He opened the stall and made his way out into the main part of the stable. "I am Sir Guy of Gisborne. I'm surprised you do not recognise me." He sounded almost offended. He was sure that if Marian or the Sheriff had walked into the stable, this woman would have known exactly who they were. Guy scowled walking across to a beautiful palomino horse and stroking its nose. "I couldn't sleep, so I came down here to do something useful. You?" He turned back to eye, his eyes narrowed slightly. Marian had taught him not to underestimate women and their wiles.
|
|
|
Post by Margaret d'Anthony on Jul 13, 2009 1:06:53 GMT 1
"I know who you are. I was just being lady like." She rolls her eyes. "But really, is my Matron watching to see if I remember my curtseys, to lower my eyes, to make limited eye contact, and to act like a bubbling imbacil? I think not." Margaret snapped, not at Guy but in the general direction of the floor, crashing her hand down onto the stall door nearest to her. She hissed out in pain, reeling back a hand that was beginning to bleed.
"Oh, I am such a fool. I am sorry Sir Guy, my anger was rashly brought upon you. I have been in the most unkind terms with Matron Lenora, and with the younge daughters of the Lord of Merton. I apollogize."
When guy said he could not sleep she nodded, tending to her sore and swelling hand. "I could not bare Merton any longer, and desided to visit the horses here. They are the most beautiful creatures are they not?"
|
|
|
Post by Sir Guy of Gisborne on Jul 13, 2009 1:29:06 GMT 1
Guy raised an eyebrow, turning back to look at her over his shoulder. He couldn't help but smirk slightly at her little outburst. Still, he understood her feeling of frustration. So often these days, he felt as though the castle was a prison more than a place of refuge. He turned back to the horse so she wouldn't see the troubled look on his face. "They are indeed beautiful creatures," he replied, his voice calm and quiet. "And so simple. They don't lie, or cheat, or scheme." He sighed, looking down at the dirty straw on the floor. Everything in his life seemed to be so complicated at the moment. "So, you're from Merton? You're a long way from home," he mused.
|
|
|
Post by Margaret d'Anthony on Jul 13, 2009 1:41:43 GMT 1
[/color]"No Sir Guy, much farther away from home than Merton. I'm the Earl of Leicestershire's daughter. And for sake of not needing gossip spread around this infernal town - I will not say for what reason."[/color] Margaret frowned as she picked up a brush from a stall door and started to brush one of the other horses. "Of all the maids and servents I had, my only true confidante was my horse Stardust. But -" She fought back tears. She knew this man, Sir Guy, would think that much less of her if she cried and perhaps leave. And someone to talk to would be nice. "She was sent after I arrived, but in the forest between here and Leicestershire bandits took her and killed my father's men. I will never see my confidante again. So I have made it my purpose to whisper my anguish to these animals." She watched him for a moment. "It really helps when you have no one to speak to. You should try it some day, Sir Guy. I mean... if you have any problems. I could not see why. You are a man of status and power I presume. You're family has not practically disowned you and you have not brought shame upon your family's name... That I know of, of course." She tripped over her words, flustered by the man's looks. He had something dark and sad about him that made her heart ache.[/blockquote]
|
|
|
Post by Sir Guy of Gisborne on Jul 18, 2009 3:08:47 GMT 1
Guy quirked his eyebrows. Problems? Guy knew nothing but problems. Still, he wasn't about to let that on. "I'll bear that in mind," he said, a slight smile on his face. He sighed, walking across to where she was brushing down the horse, his boots kicking up little clouds of dust as he moved. Gently he lay his hand on the horse's velvetine coat and began stroking it. "I am sorry about your horse," he said quietly. He, himself, had never been that attached to an animal, however, that didn't mean he was unaccustomed to loss. Everyone in his life that he'd ever cared about had left him; his parents, his sister, any friend he'd ever had and now Marian. He frowned before looking over at her again.
|
|
|
Post by Margaret d'Anthony on Jul 18, 2009 3:15:03 GMT 1
Mary stroked the horses coat several times, her fingers bumped into Guy's not noticing his hand was so near to her's. She gave a nervous laugh, "I am sorry." Mary ducked under the horse's head, to the other side of the horse. Continuing her work.
"You expression is so, heavy sir."
|
|
|
Post by Sir Guy of Gisborne on Jul 18, 2009 3:56:47 GMT 1
Guy quickly withdrew his hand and tucked him thumb into his belt, gulping. He moved backwards slightly from the horse, he perched on the edge of a water trough. Nope, he had decided he most definitely not comfortable around women. He crossed his arms over his chest, the leather of his doublet creaking slightly as he moved. "A lot on my mind," was all he said. In all honesty, he was thinking about Marian. Ever since she'd left the castle he'd been worrying about her non stop. Despite her letters, he had a strange feeling something was wrong. He sighed and looked back up at her. "So what are you intending to do in Nottingham?" he asked, trying to change the course of the conversation.
|
|
|
Post by Margaret d'Anthony on Jul 18, 2009 4:03:05 GMT 1
What am I doing here? Planning on helping Robin Hood? That's what she thought, but not what she said. "My father has sent me here to learn from my mistakes. And Merton is dull, and since I am a daughter of the Earl of Liecestershire I am welcome here on the castle grounds." She replied, amused by his nervous look after their fingers had touched.
"And besides lack of sleep, what do you have to do here?"
|
|
|
Post by Sir Guy of Gisborne on Jul 23, 2009 15:28:46 GMT 1
Guy shrugged. What was he doing here? Trying to escape, get away for a few hours? He sighed. "The Sheriff will want me to go out later, so I may as well get the horse ready now." He spoke in a resigned voice. He knew he had to do the Sheriff's bidding, however it didn't mean he had to like it. It ate away at him, knowing he had no choice over his own life. But if he wanted to achieve anything, he'd have to persevere; he was in too deep now.
|
|
|
Post by Margaret d'Anthony on Dec 3, 2009 3:40:27 GMT 1
Margaret gave an indifferent shrug, "No rest for the wicked.. Not to imply that you are wicked, Sir Guy.." Bites her lip feeling like she'd been rude. She continued brushing the horse's coat, afraid to look up if she'd offended him.
|
|
|
Post by Sir Guy of Gisborne on Dec 3, 2009 3:51:30 GMT 1
Guy frowned. He wasn't used to being talked to like that. People usually were too frightened of him to even attempt making jokes, and that was the way he liked it. He'd always been very serious, but now... Well, there was nothing to joke about any more. He seemed to be on a downwards spiral. And now Marian was gone, he didn't know what to do with himself most of the time. If was only after she left, with no warning at all, that he realised how much she meant to him; how much of his days were filled with hoping to bump into her. Now, there was not even the slightest chance and that, above all things, was what was getting him down.
He knew it was wrong of him to take his frustration out on other people, but it just seemed to happen. A guard would be in the wrong place at the wrong time and get an earfull. Guy was actually jumping at the chance to get angry these days. At least he could feel the heat bubbling up inside him. It was better than the insufferable numbness.
Still frowning, he looked across at her. "You're probably right," he said with a sigh. "Wicked Sir Guy. Why would you think any different?" With a snort, he smoothed down a few strands of the horse's mane, avoiding her eye.
|
|
|
Post by Margaret d'Anthony on Dec 3, 2009 4:20:29 GMT 1
Margaret looked up at him, biting her lip "I... I didn't mean it like that. It's just a saying and saying." Continues brushing the horses mane and coat, "I don't really know you, I wouldn't know if you were wicked or not." Glancing up at him and looking down again.
|
|