"Linda." Little John clapped his hands in front of her face.

She jumped. "Oi!" she exclaimed. "What the hell was that for? I was watching!"

"You weren't focused," countered Tuck from her other side.

"When have I ever," she muttered back, settling back in the bushes.

Tuck sighed. Yeah, he knew. These past few days had been pretty hard for her. Every night, she always tossed and turned; then by the time morning came, she always screamed out one particular name. Tuck didn't have to ask if she missed him, he knew she did. Now, as the three of them hid in the bushes on the North Road, watching for any signs of trouble, Tuck could see that her mind was wandering to him.

"You need to let him go," he advised gently.

Linda laughed like Tuck had just said the funniest thing in the world. "Good one, Godly man. Not happening."

John rolled his eyes as Tuck groaned quietly. Sometimes, she was too stubborn. And it scared them all. Along with her dreams and her bland personality, there was also her appearance. Her once green eyes that were so full of life were becoming dim, like there was nothing there. She spent all of her time in the forest, throwing her daggers at an unfortunate tree or wandering Nottingham, often sneaking inside to talk to Isabella and almost getting caught. Once again, it was another attribute caused by him:

Guy of Gisborne.

Tuck didn't get a chance to respond because his attention was soon being ripped away by a royal carriage. John also noticed, as did Linda. She chuckled, and it almost sounded evil. "Finally! Something exciting." She bounded up from her spot and began running back to the others. John and Tuck exchanged a look, their worry boosting for their crazed friend.

"Come on, boys!"

Linda kept running, relieved when she saw the others in the middle of the forest. Poor Much was on the floor while Allan was grinning. He saw her and his grin grew. He flashed his mirror at her so the sun could hit her eyes, but she reacted faster and grabbed her sword, making the light bounce back in his eyes. She smirked in triumph when Allan groaned and rubbed his eyes. Kate broke down with laughter, clutching her stomach. John and Tuck reached her side.

"We've just seen a royal carriage on the North Road," John told Robin.

"It's carrying the king's insignia, not the prince's," added Tuck.

"And it's headed for Nottingham," Linda topped off, sheathing her sword and cracking her knuckles. She frowned at Much. "Get him up! Let's go!" 

Yet although her voice was demanding, she couldn't keep the smile off her face.

*****

With their hoods on, the outlaws—including Linda—were able to sneak in the alleyway. Countless soldiers dressed in white with maroon crosses covering their breastplates were walking in the streets. A tomb covered in the same sheet design the soldiers were wearing was being carried across the street and near the castle being led by an old man in black. Much gasped.

"It's Sheridan," he breathed.

"Who?" whispered Kate.

"Keeper of the Crown," Tuck answered in a low whisper.

Linda grimaced. "Is it creepy to anyone else that he looks like my father?"

She did have a point; same gray hair that only grew on the sides of his head and barely covered the top of his head, same serious attitude, and same black clothing. Sheridan had stormy brown eyes, and they weren't kind at all. A long golden chain was around his neck. Yes, he looked similar to Vaisey.

"He used to be the king's favorite Trainer of Knights," Robin explained quietly, leaning on building next to him. "He trained me."

Linda shot Robin a look of disbelief. She was about to ask more about him, but the Prince came rushing out, followed by Isabella. The Prince pretended to look mortified and covered a hand over his mouth, stifling a sob. "Oh! No!" he cried as the guards set down the tomb. He ran do it and sunk on his knees, burying his face in the sheet and sobbing. He sniffled. "No! No! No! No!"

Sheridan stood behind the Prince and looked out at the crowd. "People of Nottingham, it is your great sadness, yet also your great honor—"

Linda snorted quietly, earning a nudge from Robin.

"—that you are the first to know of the death of King Richard."

"What?" Much whispered in awe. The crowd gasped and murmured among themselves.

"The Lionheart met his glorious end in battle with the infidel," Sheridan announced. Prince John continued sobbing and held out his arm. Sheridan took it and helped the Prince up, the practically evil man composing himself as he stood up taller.

"I thank you for your sympathy and for your love." His voice cracked; Linda had to keep herself from firing her arrow through his eye. She glanced at Robin, and for a minute she saw Guy. She blinked, and then she saw Robin again. Shuddering, she looked at the Prince again. "The archbishop of Canterbury is on his way to bless my brother's body. And though these are not the circumstances I would've wished for, in the interests of stability and national security, he will also oversee my coronation."

This caused the crowd to murmur even more among themselves and make Linda shift uneasily. Robin shared the tension by glaring at the Prince. Prince John walked away as Isabella looked at him sadly, obviously trying to show like she cared. Whether she knew if the king was alive or not, Linda didn't care. All she wanted to do was a) rip Prince John's throat out and b) save her friend from the prince. Sheridan stood in front of the tomb.

"The King is dead," he announced. "Long live the King!"

"Long live the King!" shouted everyone in unison. They all got on one knee and faced the Prince, as did the outlaws. John grabbed Robin and Linda and forced them to get on one knee.

"Kneel," he advised through gritted teeth. "Get down! Get down!"

Reluctantly, they did, glaring at the Prince who had a large grin on his face.

"Long live me."

*****

By the time the towns people cleared out, the outlaws were still there in the same alleyway. Robin and Linda paced back and forth, millions of thoughts running through their minds. Tuck looked up at the sky and sighed. "If this is God's will, then I have to question his judgment."

"He was a great king and a good man," mused Much.

"Don't, Much," admonished Robin as he quit pacing, leaning on the building and looking at the castle instead.

"I'm sorry, Robin," Much apologized.

"He's not dead! He can't be!"

"Robin, the guard," hissed Linda, arriving next to him.

"Linda, I'd know if he was dead. I'd feel it."

"I know, but for the love of God, keep your voice down!" she hissed again. "Now, about that Sheridan guy, you trust him?"

"He used to be one of the king's best," Robin explained. "But now, obviously, he's gone with Prince John."

"We all share your grief, Robin," Tuck said.

"I need to see his face. I need to know for sure," Robin mused, turning away. Kate and Much followed him, leaving the others.

"He is blinded by grief and despair," Tuck pointed out.

Linda shook her head. "Nah. I don't buy that he's dead either. I trust Robin, and he's never been wrong before." She walked away now.

"Where are you going?" John asked from behind her.

"I need information, John, and there's only one person that can give it to me. That said, I'm going to Locksley." She spun on her heels and pointed an accusing finger at the both of them. "Don't you dare follow me."

Tuck crossed his arms across his chest. "You know we have to."

"Tuck, this is something that I need to do alone." Linda sighed and looked around. "Please, you have to promise me that you won't tell Robin."

*****

Tuck and John decided to try and keep their promise. When night fell and the outlaws were getting ready to head for Kirklees Abbey, Linda was able to sneak away and head for Locksley. To her luck, no one—excluding Tuck and John—saw her leave.

"Right, then," she breathed, putting on her too big of a cloak, her hood covering her eyes. "Where are you?"

Cautiously loading her bow, she followed the trail to Locksley Manor. No villagers were out, so she figured that they were all asleep. Then why couldn't she fight off the feeling that she was being watched? Linda looked left and right, but saw no one. She prayed that it wasn't Robin, but she knew it wasn't him. If it were, then he would've grabbed her and scolded her already.

She grinned when she saw a horse in the stables near the manor. Running to it, Linda made sure that she was fully alone. "Where did you come from?" she asked in a teasing tone, stroking its mane.

Her ears perked up when she heard shouting, and then a sword unsheathing. The sword smashed down on something, making a loud clanking noise. Two people yelled at each other, and then Linda heard a female cry. She knew that cry. Leaving the horse, she sprinted into the manor.

*****

Isabella stormed into the manor, the servant girl behind her. She was livid about how Sheridan might become Sheriff, and Isabella would have little to no power at all.

"I mean, what does Sheridan know about Nottingham?" she ranted, setting the candle that she had in her hand down on the table. "Stupid old fool."

What she didn't know was that she wasn't alone. In the shadows behind a pillar stood a man, his black leather blending in perfectly with the dark. "Hello, sister," spoke Guy of Gisborne darkly, stepping out from behind.

Isabella paled at the sound of his voice, and grabbed the small but blunt butter knife in front of her. She threw her arm over her head behind her in attempt to poke Guy's eye out. Guy put his arm in front of his face, giving a yell when the knife cut through his palm and left a nasty scratch. Isabella stumbled out of her chair and ran to the other side of the table. Guy unsheathed his sword, the weapon slamming on the table.

"Guy, please. Please, just wait."

"What, for you to betray me again?" He made his way around the table.

"You got what you deserved." Isabella tried her best to escape from Guy, but cried out in pain when Guy yanked her hair. The serving girl jumped and backed away. Guy spun Isabella around and used his forearm to pin her against the pillar, his sword pointed vertically at her throat.

"And you will get what you deserve," he snarled.

Isabella swallowed, the fear suddenly gone from her blue-green eyes. "So kill me," she challenged. "You did that much to me when I was a child, anyway."

Guy let out a breath and shook his head a little. "Is that to be your dying thought?"

Her answer was simple. "Yes."

It was then that something seemed to change in Guy. Instead of wanting to kill her now, he looked guilty and almost sad. Isabella didn't seem to notice. "Go on. End it now. Put us both out of our misery."

Guy blinked once and put the sword horizontally on her throat, taking a step closer. Isabella squeezed her eyes shut. "Come on!" She was surprised when her life didn't end. Opening her eyes, she saw that Guy was still in the same position, and it was like he was debating with himself. "What's wrong with you?"

Guy sighed and looked down, not fully knowing what was wrong with him. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he was in this position once with Linda. He felt a painful pang in his chest at the thought of her.

Isabella thought fast. "Maybe we change things," she suggested. "King Richard is dead. Prince John is due to be crowned."

Guy stared at her. "What?" he asked in a low and quiet tone.

"That's right. I can help you," Isabella continued.

"How can you help me?" His voice broke. There was only one thing he needed in order to be complete, and there was no way that she could help him with that.

"I can speak for you," she said. "But for that you need me alive. Kill me, and you kill your last chance back with the new king. Let me live, and we both get what we want."

Guy thought about. Ever so slowly, he let go of his sister. She sighed in relief, rubbing her throat.

That's when the door burst open.

The servant girl squeaked as Isabella peered from behind the pillar, frowning and trying to see who it was. Guy jumped and gripped his sword tighter. The hooded figure he ran into a few weeks ago gripped his bow tight, looking around. When he saw Isabella, he sighed in relief and put his bow on his back. Guy growled and pointed his sword at the hooded person.

"You," he said menacingly.

The figure jumped, no sword on hand. Guy's attention never derailed from his target, a nasty sneer growing when the figure drew his bow slowly once more from his back.

"It's your fault that I'm in this position. It's your fault that I lost everything. It's your fault that I'm alive!" he shouted at the figure, then charged.

He was better than Guy thought. Guy struck his sword and aimed for his side, but the figure quickly parried his attacks and used the butt of one end of the bow to hit Guy's middle. Guy grunted and pushed the figure back. With a high-pitched cry, he tripped and flipped over the table. But apparently he was really nimble, and was able to land perfectly on his feet. Guy cast his down his sword, growling when his opponent jumped back. Guy's weapon hit the table, leaving a dent.

The figure took advantage of the situation and slid underneath the table and Guy's open legs, quickly rolling over and tripping the Master-at-Arms up by kicking at his legs. Guy fell to the ground with a groan, his vision blurry. He saw the figure try to get on his feet and run for the exit, but Guy grabbed his foot and pulled him down, the man falling square on his face. He groaned, sword skidding out of his grasp. Guy took this chance to flip him on his back and get on top of him, using one arm and one leg to pin down of both of his arms next to his body. Guy could see a pair of emerald green eyes snapping shut and looking away. Guy grabbed his small dagger and waved it in the air.

"Goodbye, outlaw," he snarled, raising the blade over his head.

Before Guy could plunge the dagger into the person's neck and end his life, he screamed his name loudly.

"GUY!" screamed the—

The female voice.

Guy stiffened at the voice, letting the dagger clatter to the floor. He blinked a few times, his breathing unsteady. Slowly, his hand moved to the hood, where he slowly unveiled the person behind the costume. His eyes widened when he saw her long dark brown hair covering her face, and her soft lips were pursed in a straight line, her bottom one quivering. Guy used his free hand to gently grab her chin and make her face him, his other hand letting go of her arms. Her eyes opened, and Guy could see fresh tears in her now dull emerald eyes. One fell down her cheek, and he wiped it away. She grabbed his hand, running her thumb along his knuckles.

"Guy..." she croaked. "I'm so sorry."

"No," he murmured to himself, slowly—yet reluctantly—escaping her grasp. "Not you. It can't be you."

Guy scurried away and backed away, staring at her. She sat up slowly, rubbing the back of her neck. She winced when she stood up, leaning on Isabella for support. Guy continued to stare at her in disbelief and also stood, shaking his head fast.

"Tell me I'm dreaming," he pleaded. "Tell me that it's not you. Tell me that you're not here."

She shook her head sadly, the tears rushing down her face. "No, Guy of Gisborne, I am very much here, and I am very much alive," said Linda of Nottingham.

Guy let out a bitter laugh and looked down, trying not to break something. "You... are a terrible human being, fleur."

Linda flinched at the tone of his voice and the use of her pet name being used bitterly. She risked taking one step forward, only to have a sword nearly swipe her torso. She squeaked and put her hands up in defense. "I know you're mad—"

"More like betrayed," Guy countered, holding the weapon out in front of him. "To ever think that I cared for you, a woman who is vile and cunning. To think that I sacrificed everything for you, one who would take advantage of me if it meant getting what she wanted. To think that I trusted you, Vaisey's daughter, master of playing people. To think that I thought I had a future with you, Linda of Nottingham, who claims to not be like Marian, when in truth she is. I was blinded by your words and your flattery, never seeing the other side of you... outlaw."

Linda all of a sudden felt weak and helpless, and her knees wobbled. Her breath caught her throat, and she could barely breathe. Isabella noticed the tension and approached her brother. "Brother, lower the sword," she said sternly. "There will be no bloodshed tonight."

Guy growled, but reluctantly sheathed his sword. "Very well," he said, glaring at Linda. "I shall retire to my bedchamber... alone." He pushed past Isabella and clambered up the stairs, avoiding Linda's gaze. She quickly looked away, not wanting to see the disappointed look he wore. Isabella approached her, but she waved her off.

"I'm okay, Bella. Go get some sleep. I'll talk to you in the morning."

Isabella nodded reluctantly and left her side, going up the stairs to retire to her own bed chamber. Linda sighed and intertwined her hands. She ventured to the window and hopped on the table, leaning her head against the wall. She saw smoke from afar in Kirklees Abbey, and she figured that the outlaws were there. She imagined Robin fuming about how she wasn't there, and Tuck and John trying their hardest not to reveal her location. Then her mind traveled to Guy, and she started sobbing quietly. She opened up her palm, revealing Guy's dagger.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry for everything, Guy."

What she didn't see was Guy upstairs, peering out of the corner from the door. He wanted to go down their and hold her, tell her that was okay and that he loved her, but he didn't. Instead, he left the doorway and let her grieve.

Everyone needed to be alone at one point, right?

*****

When Guy went downstairs the next morning for breakfast, she was still in that same spot. She looked terrible, and he had a feeling he had something to do with it. Her eyes were bloodshot, and the green in her eyes were losing color. He doubted she got any sleep, and it worried him to no end, but he didn't say anything. Linda didn't acknowledge him, and he was actually grateful for it. He sat down at the table, where a plate full of cheese and bread was waiting for him. Isabella came down a few moments later, smiling warmly.

"How did you sleep?" she asked her brother.

"With one eye open," Guy responded, taking a drink from his goblet of wine.

Isabella chuckled and circled to her seat. "If we are going to work together, we must learn to lower our guard." Isabella turned around. "How about you, Linda?"

She jumped at her name, clearly startled. She cleared her throat and composed herself. "Yeah, great. I slept fine, thanks."

Liar, Guy wanted to say, but kept quiet.

Isabella frowned and tilted her head to the side. "You hungry?"

Linda shook her head and hopped off the table. "I'm not hungry, thank you. I'm going to go upstairs, I'll talk to you soon." She disappeared upstairs, the servant girl not far behind her.

Isabella watched her leave. "It's amazing how strong she is," she mused.

Guy turned stiff. "She got herself into this."

Isabella glared at him. She was about to say something snarky, but her eyes landed on his wound. She inhaled sharply. "It looks painful."

Guy inspected his hand before resting it back on the table. "It's a scratch. I'll be fine."

"Here." Isabella held her hand, hoping that Guy would trust her enough to help him and clean his wound. Reluctantly, he rested his injured hand in her own. She grabbed a cloth and soaked it, dabbing at his wound.

"So..." Guy started, taking a drink, "how am I to get back into the new king's favor?"

"I have decided to speak to him for you," Isabella said. Guy stared at her with wide eyes. "On one condition." She turned to look at him. "I need you to apologize."

Guy raised his brow. "Apologize?" he repeated with a shrug. "What for?"

"You know what for."

Guy sighed and looked at the wall, his voice low. "Isabella, had I not arranged your marriage, we would still be living in some godforsaken corner in France without a penny or acre to our name."

"Better that than to have been with him," she retorted.

"No, it is not my fault that you failed to make the best of your chance," Guy said sharply, striking a nerve. Isabella grabbed a small clay bottle of ointment and poured a small amount on his wound, dabbing it with the damp cloth after words. Guy continued. "In fact, it's down to me that we're still in with a chance of anything. So instead of wasting time, I say we figure out exactly what it is you're going to say to the prince."

Isabella continued to dab at his wound, her eyes dark. "I was thinking," she mused, "maybe I should just drug you and hand you in to him myself."

"What?" Guy stared at her in disbelief.

Isabella put down the cloth and put her hands on her hips. "I was willing to forgive you, brother. But you don't deserve my absolution."

It was then that Guy started to feel woozy and dizzy. He groaned and picked up his empty cup, looking for an unfamiliar substance. When he found nothing, he tried putting it down, only for it to end up skidding across the table.

"Oh, no, no," Isabella laughed almost evilly. "It's not your drink. It's your wound. Straight into your bloodstream."

Guy's stomach churned, and he could barely see anything. He tried to stand and call for help, but ended plopping back down on the chair, his cheek hitting the cool wood of the table. His vision was blury, and all he saw was spots. Voices were muffled, and Guy felt light. The last thing he did process was the scream of his name, then nothing.

*****

Linda stood at the window of the kitchen, staring at the people from above. She envied them and their happiness, especially the families. At least they had each other. Why did she have to lose Guy? She bet that he hated her now, and she didn't blame him. She hated herself, frankly.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't even see the serving girl approach her with an apple in her hand. "You must be starving," she said.

Linda shook her head. "I'm fine, thank you."

"My lady, you need to keep your strength up," the girl said.

Linda sighed and took the fruit. "Thank you," she said, taking a bite. She breathed out and leaned her head back, her stomach satisfied now. "Okay, maybe I was a little hungry."

The girl laughed and walked away, grabbing a few things and putting them away. Linda tilted her head to the side. "What's your name?"

The girl paused and looked over her shoulder. "Celeste."

Linda smiled. "That's a beautiful name," she said seriously. "I imagine you already know who I am."

Celeste nodded. "I do," she said.

"Mm, wonder how," she muttered.

Celeste laughed. "Rumor has it that you are with the outlaws now."

Linda shushed her. "If Isabella knew that, then she would kill me."

"But she already does."

"Then why am I not dead yet?"

"Because Lady Isabella is kind like that."

Linda nodded, her mind traveling. Then maybe it was safe enough to ask about Richard and if he was alive or not.

"But are you?" Celeste asked.

Linda pursed her lips and nodded slowly. "If I know Robin Hood, then he's probably mad at me for leaving."

"Why did you leave in the first place?"

"Because I needed to find Isabella and ask her a few questions."

"What questions?"

"You're a curious one, aren't you?"

Celeste grinned. "Maybe."

Linda chuckled. "Yeah, same here. I'm a little too curious at times."

Celeste nodded. "Is that why Sir Guy is upset?"

Linda's smile faded. "I would think so," she answered quietly, taking another munch of the apple. "I just wish I could fix it, but I can't. I've lost him forever."

Celeste stayed quiet for a few moments. "He loves you, you know."

Linda let out a breath. "Celeste, I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, but—"

"I'm not lying," Celeste interrupted. "I know a look of admiration when I see it." She paused. "When he saw that you were the one behind the hood, I saw the fear in his eye. He was scared, but not for himself, but for you. He almsot killed you, and it would've killed him. And as hard and confusing as it sounds, his rage is the only way he can actually show he loves you. Dark and brooding he may be, but you can change him. In fact, you already have. Why else do you think he didn't kill his sister?"

Linda raised an eyebrow. "When did you suddenly become an expert of relationships?"

Celeste smiled warmly. "A few minutes ago."

Linda was about to say something, but then she heard a goblet clattering to the floor along with a groan, and a chair scraping back. Linda left the window and walked past Celeste, making her way to the stairs. When she left the room and reached the steps, she screamed.

"Guy!"

Guy of Gisborne was knocked out, eyes closed and cheek on the table, his face facing the right. His goblet was tipped over, and his plate was away from his unconscious state. His sister was standing next to him, an amused smirk on her face. She held up a small bottle in triumph.

"Concentrated Valerian Root," Isabella mused. "Enough to knock out a horse. I doubt Lord Sheridan thought of that one." She looked up at Linda. "Clever, eh?"

Linda sneered and stromed down the stairs. She grabbed Isabella by the throat and pinned her against a pillar. "What the hell did you do to him?!"

"I drugged him. Don't be fooled, Linda, he'll take advantage of you. I did you a favor, you should be happy."

"By knocking him out, eh? Why, because he didn't feel guilty for selling you? You're wrong. He did feel guilty."

"Then why didn't he say anything?!"

"Because he's stubborn!"

Isabella growled and pushed her off. Linda watched her approach her brother. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to do excatly what he did to me." Isabella spun around. "I'm going to give him away."

Linda's eyes widened. "No, you won't, Bella," she said. "You won't give him to Prince John, not while I'm still here."

"Then I have no need for you anymore," Isabella said bitterly. She nodded to someone behind her. Linda frowned. Before she coud react, Celeste hit her hard in the back of the head with a book. Linda grunted before groaning as she cumpled to the ground. Her eyesight was blurry, but she saw Isabella with a sword in her hands.

"Sorry, old friend," she appologized.

With little to no warning, Isabella hit Linda with the butt of the sword. Her head plopped on the floor, her last thought being of Guy before she blacked out.