Post by Sir Guy of Gisborne on Sept 10, 2009 17:28:31 GMT -5
"Do you, Sir Guy of Gisborne, take this woman, Lady Marian Fitzwalter, to be your wife, according to God’s holy decree; do you promise to be to her a loving and loyal husband, to cherish and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, to be faithful only to her as long as you both shall live?" Guy's eyes were fixed firmly on the cold marble floor, his stomach fluttering, as the minister spoke in Latin. He took a deep breath and looked up at Marian before answering as clearly as possible, "I do."[/li][/ul][/center]
The congregation behind them was silent, as if holding their breath. Even Guy himself could hardly believe this was finally happening. He had been hoping and praying that nothing would go wrong, not today, and it looked as though, for once, his wishes were being granted. He licked his dry cracked lips, not daring to look up as the minister continued.
"Do you, Lady Marian Fitzwalter, take this man, Sir Guy of Gisborne, to be your husband, according to God’s holy decree; do you promise to be to him a loving and loyal wife, to cherish and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, to be faithful only to him as long as you both shall live?" The tension in the air was almost palpable. Marian's lip trembled slightly as she stilled herself to say the words she knew she must. She hadn't actually believed she'd have to go through with this. She'd been sure Robin would find a way to save the day and whisk her away, but here she was at the alter, her mother's heavy white veil over her face, two little words away from becoming Lady Gisborne. She looked down, her brow furrowed. "I do," she whispered, barely audible.
Guy was sure his heart had fluttered straight out of his chest as he heard her mutter the words he'd been longing to hear. "I now pronounce you man and wife." He blinked staring at the minister, a dazed look in his eyes. "You may kiss the bride," the old man whispered, nudging Guy towards his new wife. He felt as though he could hardly breath as he reached out a trembling hand to life Marian's heavy lace veil. The expression on her face was hard to read however, he pushed his doubt to the back of his mind and slowly, hesitantly, leaned in towards her.
His kiss was softer than Marian expected, gentle yet passionate. Still, she couldn't help herself from imagining those lips belonged to someone else. Once upon a time, she had dreamed of marrying the young and noble Lord of Locksley. Obviously fate had a strange way of catching up with you. Politely, she pulled away from him, her eyes down cast, and managed a little smile as they turned together to face the congregation. Her legs felt weak but still she managed to walk along the isle, her cream dress stretching out behind her, the pushed back veil hanging loosely around her shoulders. She looked up at Guy. He looked strange, unusually calm. Despite herself, she couldn't help feeling a surge of emotion.
The sun was bright over Locksley as the chapel doors were swung wide and the bride and groom stepped outside to the polite applause of the towns folk. The waiting carriage was more for formality than practical reasons, however, Marian was glad to take the weight off of her trembling legs as Guy helped her up. She slid across the seat so she was next to the window. Guy was conversing with the driver so Marian took the opportunity to gaze out across the fields and away towards Knighton; the place that, until a few minutes ago, had been her home. She sighed and was about to pull the heavy fur curtain across the small opening when two figures caught her eye. They were standing about half a mile away on the hill overlooking Locksley and by their stance they appeared to be fighting. One of them wore a double arched bow slung across his back , silhouetted against the mid afternoon sun. Marian's brow furrowed and a silent tear escaped her eye before she took a deep breath and let the curtain fall, blocking out the view and sunlight.
"You can't just let her go!" yelled Much, clutching desperately at his hat. "Robin, be reasonable. You can't let her marry Gisborne!" The sun was beating down hard on the heads of the two men on the hilltop, seeming to burn. However, nothing could hurt more than the gaping hole in Robin's chest. He was sure his heart had been ripped out and there was nothing he could do. Marian had made her decision, despite what Much might say to try and persuade him other wise.
The tolling of the chapel bell cut through Robin like a knife, interrupting his thoughts. Both he and Much turned at the same time to look down towards the village, just in time to see Gisborne climbing into the decorated carriage and a flash of a cream dress as the door closed. "Marian," he whispered, a lump coming to his throat. It was too late; it was done.
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