Missing Scenes
Title: Missing Scenes
Chapter: The Tavern
Author: Perteltote
Characters/Pairings: Allan, Guy/Marian
Genre: um...cracky drama? Kind of like the actual show?
Rating: R
Word Count: 3,638
Summary: Marian decides she needs Allan's help for a project. They run into Guy while they are there. Awesomeness ensues.
Allan was wandering the castle, taking care of his own business, just like always. Waiting for Guy to call for him, maybe looking to find a nice corner for a nap, when here comes Marian with not one of her minding guards in sight. She's striding down the hall toward him, kicking her skirts, practically running she's moving so fast. And she is clearly looking for him; her gaze latches onto him the second she comes in view and a grim look of determination settles on her face. He almost runs, considers hiding, but then just stops and sighs. She had saved him from Robin after all, she couldn't mean to do anything serious to him, could she? Once she gets close enough she starts hissing something about men and taverns, what? He was a frequent patron of the Trip, sure, but he wasn't any drunk or anything like that.
"Every night, when I make my rounds, all I see are women and children, alone in their houses, while their men are out at the tavern. What kind of world is this where a man spends all of his money on ale when his family is starving at home?"
She natters on about men and drink; he doesn't know what she's on him about -- he doesn't have any wife and children -- not that he knows about anyway. What does she think he can do about anything? She should talk to Vaizey if she wants to close the taverns. He is only half-listening at this point -- she sounds just like his mother for Christ sake, nagging about the evils of a little drink and socializing.
Her next statement focuses his attention real quick like.
"I will accompany you to the Trip, tonight, to evaluate this situation for myself."
What? Really? He sputters, "Maz, a lady can't just..."
She interrupts him coolly, "That's why I won't be going as a lady, I'll go as a man."
He chokes. She has enough experience impersonating a man, and for sure she can fight like one, but without a mask no one would ever believe...she raises her eyebrow and he settles. But still, he can't just go along with such a ridiculous scheme.
"Maz, I dunno, it's..."
And quick as a wink she whips one of those little daggers out of her hair and threatens him with it.
"You OWE me," she hisses. He swallows, then quickly nods agreement; she can be right menacing when she wants.
____________________________
She meets him outside the Trip, just as the church bell strikes nine. He doesn't even ask how she's gotten out of her rooms or slipped past her guards this time, he figures why should he care as long as she's not got them caught. He runs a critical eye over her, if he's going to be the one 'escorting' her, he has a right to...
"What are you looking at?", she snaps.
Phew! He doesn't know what has her panties in a bunch, but he sure hopes it's something a little ale can fix. She's put some kind of approximation of a mustache on, but she still doesn't look too man-like. At least she has a big cape with a hood. As long as no one looks too close...and they are pretty drunk...his eyes drift down...oh shit.
"Maz, are you sure you should wear the Nightwatchman's trousers? Someone might recognize them..."
"It was this or skirts Allan, and I'm sure these are not the only trousers like this in Nottingham."
Allan doubts there are any other trousers like that anywhere, but he knows when to keep his mouth shut. That's why he doesn't even mention the stubble she has drawn on her chin. She even has some kind of pointed sideburns like Guy wears penciled on her cheeks. He curses under his breath.
"Just keep your hood up, will you?"
She smiles at him, dimpling prettily. Oh Christ, he would have to keep her away from everyone, there was no way anyone would believe she was a man.
He leads her inside and then hurries her over into one of the curtained alcoves. At least this way they will be away from the other patrons. The lighting is nice and dim, thank God the Trip is stingy with candles. He sees Marian glancing around curiously.
"I'll go get us some drinks..." he starts.
"I think a serving maid is coming over," she interrupts.
For fuck's sake, it's Cora, and she is no serving maid. He frantically tries to wave her off, but she comes over anyway and plops herself onto his lap.
"Hullo Allan, what'll it be for you tonight, love?"
She wriggles suggestively, then continues, "a tickle?"
When he doesn't answer she presses her breasts lasciviously against his chest, "perhaps a bit of a cuddle then?"
He can feel himself turning scarlet in embarrassment, and glances over at Marian only to see her watching with interest. He clears his throat awkwardly.
"Err...Cora...just drinks for now."
"Pitcher of ale, please," Marian pipes up in this ridiculous put-on voice.
Cora looks at her oddly, asks, "Who's your friend then, love? Perhaps he'd care for a little..."
"Ah, No! Just the pitcher, Cora."
As she just stands there, openly studying Marian, he shoots her a warning glare. She sniffs her annoyance, then flounces off.
Once she is out of earshot Marian leans across the table and whispers, "Is she...a whore?"
Allan nods reluctantly and Marian giggles.
"Why did she wriggle in your lap like that and press herself against you? Do men like that? Did you like it?"
Now this has got to be the most awkward conversation he has ever been in. "I umm...I dunno...yeah, I guess so, I mean, I guess men like it."
She giggles again, then watches as Cora comes back over with their pitcher. He can see Marian sizing her up, and Cora stares right back.
"If there's anything you two need, anything at all..." she says, leaning towards Marian, "You just let me know."
Fortunately Marian decides to keep her trap shut tight until Cora leaves. Instead, she just pours herself a mug of ale and takes a swig. Her eyes open wide in surprise and she coughs, "Ugh, this stuff is horrible, Allan, why does anyone drink it?"
"It grows on you, it does. Keep drinking and you'll see."
She perseveres admirably, and before long she's quaffed the whole thing. Allan offers up a small prayer for forgiveness; he doesn't want to be the one who corrupts Marian, but she was a right annoyance before, and now that she's finished the mug maybe she'll calm down a little.
Instead of calming she pours another mug. And then another. She stares at the tavern with round eyes. Then she gets the giggles over nothing at all as far as he can tell.
"All-right, Maz, maybe you better slow down a touch, yeah? Ale can be a bit strong."
She makes to reply but then goes silent as she stares at the stairway across the room. Allan follows her gaze. Oh Christ! Is that Guy coming down? Rumpled, half-laced, and followed by two smiling whores no less. Allan ducks his head, thinks maybe he won't see them, but no, the man's gaze lights on them right off and he starts across the room.
Allan offers up another prayer, this time for small mercies. Guy looks drunk off his skull, maybe he won't notice that it's Marian he's here with.
Guy weaves a little on the approach and then flops into a seat at the table.
"Allan," he says, then sits there staring.
"Guy," Allan says back, then he waits. He chances a glance across at Marian. She takes another big swig of her ale, then wipes her mouth with her sleeve. Shit, she's wiped off half her stubble and her mustache too. She sees the mustache on her arm and looks ready to come down with another fit of giggles. He silently wills Guy not to look at her. Luckily it works, or leastways Guy doesn't feel like looking at anyone but him.
"Guy?" he tries again, tentatively.
"Did I ever tell you that I hate my job?" the man replies. "Vaizey makes me do the most horrible things. You wouldn't believe...just today I had to...," he breaks off, looks like he's about to be sick.
Allan could swear there were tears there, pooling in his eyes. Gorr, this is shaping up to be a weird night, he thinks.
Eventually Guy sniffs, then continues, "...there were so many of them, they had been digging a tunnel." He explains, "They did I good job, I hated to..." abruptly he stops, Allan sees him sniff again, then he straightens up and shakes his hair out. Allan stifles a laugh, it always makes him laugh, the way Guy swings his hair around like a girl.
Allan glances over at Marian, she's staring at Guy, an unreadable expression on her face. He hopes to God she doesn't jump up and start doing high kicks or some shit like that. Guy is drunk, sure, but so is she. That certainly wouldn't be a pretty scene.
Luckily, Guy still doesn't notice her. Looks like he's perked up now that he's gotten that bit off his chest. He catches Allan's eye, then smirks, "Nothing that a couple of whores can't cure though, right Allan? Did you see the tits on that first one?" He makes an obscene hand gesture and the smirk turns into a full-on smile.
Oh shit, Allan thinks, just as Marian cuts in frostily, "A couple? A couple of whores?" And there's that fake voice again. Allan just hopes Guy is that drunk.
Guy starts and stares over at her. He must be even drunker than Allan was hoping if he hadn't even seen she was there.
"Who's your friend?" he asks, "Looks like he's just out of swaddling."
"Oh him, oh that's..uh...that's... Martin. Just met him here tonight, seems like a nice enough bloke." Marian shifts belligerently at Guy's comment, so Allan shoots a look at her, tries to warn her to be silent, that this isn't the Guy she knows back at the castle, all gifts and compliments. This Guy is dangerous to cross, doesn't think twice about paying back an insult by throwing the offending party in the dungeon, or worse. Really, he thinks, she should know already, she's fought him often enough. She glares, but stays quiet, and Guy rambles on in a curiously paternal tone, as if he's taken her aggressive stare as only so much teenage angst.
"Martin is it? Well, Martin, once you get a few years on you, you'll find find the truth of it all -- that the only thing better than one whore is two."
He laughs harshly, then sighs sadly, and Marian, remarkably, says nothing at all.
Guy continues, moving on into fond reminiscing, "Did you see that first one? Breasts like..." he cups his hands into an outrageously large shape, then continues, "...and the other, well, she had a tongue like nothing I've ever seen...I mean felt," he corrects with another smirk. Marian shifts in her seat, but Guy sighs again, and continues, melancholy now, before she can say anything, "They don't hold a candle to Marian, of course...she has...the most amazing..." and he stops, staring off into space.
Marian leans forward, "the most amazing,..?" she prompts.
Guy goes on, "I saw her once, you know, in the bath chamber. She didn't know I was there, behind the screen, and I crept out before she could see me...but not before I got an eyeful, let me tell you!"
Marian gasps in outrage, and Allan tenses, ready to dive across the table and restrain her, but instead of assaulting Guy, she just says flatly, "Yes, why don't you tell me all about it?"
Noticing nothing outside of what is clearly a treasured memory, Guy closes his eyes and keeps talking, "She has the most amazing breasts, just perfect...," he says, unconsciously cupping his hands again.
Allan can't help but compare them with Marian's chest...yup, that's just about right.
Marian stays silent and Guy isn't done yet, so Allan just listens helplessly as it gets even worse, "...with nipples just begging you to wrap your tongue around them...and hips like..." Guy licks his lips, traces two arcs in the air, then gets a predatory look on his face that makes Allan want to cover Marian's ears.
Guy finishes in a sensual growl, "yes, with hips that make you want to fuck her until she screams." His hands fist in the air and he rocks his hips a little before he opens his eyes and stares straight at Marian. He leans forward, "and trust me, she will scream. She will beg me for it before I'm done."
They just sit and stare at each other for what seems like an eternity. Allan is sure that Marian is going to stalk off in indignation, or else jump over the table and attack Guy, or that Guy will...well, to be honest he has no idea what Guy might do, but still...
Instead, she downs the last of her ale, then wipes the rest of her stubble off on her sleeve. Belatedly, Allan realizes that she has had almost the whole pitcher by herself. She stands up (she's a bit wobbly, Allan notes) and then walks around the table towards Guy.
Guy stares at her pants, says, "You know, you remind me of something..."
Allan readies himself, is sure they're going to fight, but then instead of socking Guy in the face Marian settles herself down on his lap -- and wriggles.
Allan's jaw drops practically to the floor. Guy mutters something about not liking boys, but then she wriggles again -- just like Cora, Allan realizes in horror. Guy shuts up right about then and wraps his hands around her waist and pulls her tight up against him.
Christ, this is bad! Never mind all that about her being drunk and unchaperoned (except for him he realizes) with fucking Guy of Gisborne, but she looks like a boy, well kindof anyway. Enough to get them all arrested; sometimes those types don't even make it to the dungeon before the mob tears them to pieces. He moves to casually block the entrance to the alcove.
He glances back, and now she is pressing her breasts into Guy's chest. He slides a hand into her shirt and murmurs, "wait... you are no lad..." before shooting a glare at Allan.
"Is this some kind of joke?" he growls.
"No!" Allan replies as innocently as possible, "I told you, I met him...umm....her in the bar...he told me his name was Martin." Guy keeps glaring and Allan looks for something to hide behind until Marian swings a leg over to straddle. Guy's attention snaps back to her and Allan watches helplessly as he burrows his face into her chest. He just catches a flash of Guy's tongue as he pulls her shirt open and slides his mouth over her breast.
Christ, this is bad! He swallows and forces his gaze back out over the room. This is his fault. He brought Marian, a complete innocent, here to the Trip, filled her with ale, and now he's set Guy loose on her. Granted, she coerced him into just about all of it, but still!
He hears her moan behind him and he's almost afraid to look. Especially when Guy laughs, and then starts murmuring in the darkly seductive tone that Allan knows so well, "You like that, don't you? You liked what you heard earlier. I bet you want me to do all of it...right now... to you... Shall I tell you what else I have in mind? I think you'll like it..." and then he whispers a series of increasingly filthy suggestions, some of which make even Allan's hair stand on end. He had not even known you could... he steels himself and glances back.
Guy's hands are cupping her arse now and he is bouncing her up and down on top of him. She throws back her head, then grinds her pelvis into his, and he groans, "oh yes, like that..." before dragging her mouth back down to his. Allan watches, mesmerized, as they kiss, and then as Guy's mouth moves over her jaw and neck, painting a shining trail back down to her breasts. She is gasping and shivering under his touch now, and Allan suddenly realizes that he can no longer see one of Guy's hands.
Christ! This is really bad. His head snaps back around to the front; he can't even stand to watch anymore. What should he do? If he stops them now, Guy will kill him. If he doesn't stop them, Marian will kill him once she's sober. Not to mention whatever Robin will do to him once he finds out.
He clears his throat, loudly.
"Martin," he calls.
No response.
"Martin!" he tries again.
No response.
Desperately, he decides to play his last card, "Martin! What about your uncle, Rob?"
"Oh," Marian says.
"Oh," she says again, "I have to go!"
Allan turns around as she jumps up and staggers away. Her shirt is ripped and half-undone, and her trousers are loose, but she swings her cape around herself and bolts for the door.
Guy gets over the surprise quickly.
"You!" he says, pointing dangerously at Allan.
"And YOU!" he yells, pointing at Marian's retreating back, "YOU! Get back here!"
Allan gets ready to run, because Guy is not someone you mess around with, and he has just been well and truly cock-blocked. Guy gets to his feet, puts his hand on his sword hilt...then tilts to the side and crashes to the floor.
Thank God for the drink; with any luck Guy won't remember any of this tomorrow.
___________________________________________________
The next morning, Allan wakes to a quiet but persistent tapping on his door. He pulls it open to reveal Marian, still in her Nightwatchman trousers and looking much the worse for wear.
"Marian," he greets her. "Oh," she whispers, "quiet, please... I have got such a head. I came to ask you to not to tell...anyone...about what happened last night."
"Sure, right," he says, then pauses for a moment as he thinks, "but Guy might ask me about..." and just like that she has her dagger out and is brandishing it at him.
"You will never tell Guy that was me, understand?"
He takes a step back; even half dead from a hangover she's scary.
"Yeah, yeah, OK, you got it, I'll never tell no one blah blah."
She tucks her dagger back in, then presses her hand to her forehead and leaves.
"Bye then," he calls after her.
Moments after he shuts the door someone starts banging on it. Allan walks back over and pulls it open saying, "Maz, I told you..."
He stops abruptly when it's Guy standing there.
"Marian was here?" he asks suspiciously.
"No, I mean, yes, I mean, she wanted to know if I had seen her hair pin, the one like a little dagger, you know?"
Guy rubs the bridge of his nose; he doesn't look so good either. He's wearing the same trousers as last night too, but for Guy that's nothing remarkable.
He sighs, then pulls his dagger out and brandishes it in Allan's general direction, "You will tell no one of the condition I was in last night, NO ONE. And you will NEVER repeat anything I might have said."
"Right, right, mum's the word, you can depend on me."
Guy stows the dagger, then turns on his heel and stomps down the hall.
Allan closes the door, then sags against it in relief. Phew. That had turned out about as well as could be expected. You would never catch him 'helping' Marian with anything foolish like that again.
He wonders idly if Guy will ever find out it had been Maz. He scratches his chest and yawns as he thinks of Marian's dagger. Well, not from Allan A'Dale he won't.
Chapter: The Tavern
Author: Perteltote
Characters/Pairings: Allan, Guy/Marian
Genre: um...cracky drama? Kind of like the actual show?
Rating: R
Word Count: 3,638
Summary: Marian decides she needs Allan's help for a project. They run into Guy while they are there. Awesomeness ensues.
Allan was wandering the castle, taking care of his own business, just like always. Waiting for Guy to call for him, maybe looking to find a nice corner for a nap, when here comes Marian with not one of her minding guards in sight. She's striding down the hall toward him, kicking her skirts, practically running she's moving so fast. And she is clearly looking for him; her gaze latches onto him the second she comes in view and a grim look of determination settles on her face. He almost runs, considers hiding, but then just stops and sighs. She had saved him from Robin after all, she couldn't mean to do anything serious to him, could she? Once she gets close enough she starts hissing something about men and taverns, what? He was a frequent patron of the Trip, sure, but he wasn't any drunk or anything like that.
"Every night, when I make my rounds, all I see are women and children, alone in their houses, while their men are out at the tavern. What kind of world is this where a man spends all of his money on ale when his family is starving at home?"
She natters on about men and drink; he doesn't know what she's on him about -- he doesn't have any wife and children -- not that he knows about anyway. What does she think he can do about anything? She should talk to Vaizey if she wants to close the taverns. He is only half-listening at this point -- she sounds just like his mother for Christ sake, nagging about the evils of a little drink and socializing.
Her next statement focuses his attention real quick like.
"I will accompany you to the Trip, tonight, to evaluate this situation for myself."
What? Really? He sputters, "Maz, a lady can't just..."
She interrupts him coolly, "That's why I won't be going as a lady, I'll go as a man."
He chokes. She has enough experience impersonating a man, and for sure she can fight like one, but without a mask no one would ever believe...she raises her eyebrow and he settles. But still, he can't just go along with such a ridiculous scheme.
"Maz, I dunno, it's..."
And quick as a wink she whips one of those little daggers out of her hair and threatens him with it.
"You OWE me," she hisses. He swallows, then quickly nods agreement; she can be right menacing when she wants.
____________________________
She meets him outside the Trip, just as the church bell strikes nine. He doesn't even ask how she's gotten out of her rooms or slipped past her guards this time, he figures why should he care as long as she's not got them caught. He runs a critical eye over her, if he's going to be the one 'escorting' her, he has a right to...
"What are you looking at?", she snaps.
Phew! He doesn't know what has her panties in a bunch, but he sure hopes it's something a little ale can fix. She's put some kind of approximation of a mustache on, but she still doesn't look too man-like. At least she has a big cape with a hood. As long as no one looks too close...and they are pretty drunk...his eyes drift down...oh shit.
"Maz, are you sure you should wear the Nightwatchman's trousers? Someone might recognize them..."
"It was this or skirts Allan, and I'm sure these are not the only trousers like this in Nottingham."
Allan doubts there are any other trousers like that anywhere, but he knows when to keep his mouth shut. That's why he doesn't even mention the stubble she has drawn on her chin. She even has some kind of pointed sideburns like Guy wears penciled on her cheeks. He curses under his breath.
"Just keep your hood up, will you?"
She smiles at him, dimpling prettily. Oh Christ, he would have to keep her away from everyone, there was no way anyone would believe she was a man.
He leads her inside and then hurries her over into one of the curtained alcoves. At least this way they will be away from the other patrons. The lighting is nice and dim, thank God the Trip is stingy with candles. He sees Marian glancing around curiously.
"I'll go get us some drinks..." he starts.
"I think a serving maid is coming over," she interrupts.
For fuck's sake, it's Cora, and she is no serving maid. He frantically tries to wave her off, but she comes over anyway and plops herself onto his lap.
"Hullo Allan, what'll it be for you tonight, love?"
She wriggles suggestively, then continues, "a tickle?"
When he doesn't answer she presses her breasts lasciviously against his chest, "perhaps a bit of a cuddle then?"
He can feel himself turning scarlet in embarrassment, and glances over at Marian only to see her watching with interest. He clears his throat awkwardly.
"Err...Cora...just drinks for now."
"Pitcher of ale, please," Marian pipes up in this ridiculous put-on voice.
Cora looks at her oddly, asks, "Who's your friend then, love? Perhaps he'd care for a little..."
"Ah, No! Just the pitcher, Cora."
As she just stands there, openly studying Marian, he shoots her a warning glare. She sniffs her annoyance, then flounces off.
Once she is out of earshot Marian leans across the table and whispers, "Is she...a whore?"
Allan nods reluctantly and Marian giggles.
"Why did she wriggle in your lap like that and press herself against you? Do men like that? Did you like it?"
Now this has got to be the most awkward conversation he has ever been in. "I umm...I dunno...yeah, I guess so, I mean, I guess men like it."
She giggles again, then watches as Cora comes back over with their pitcher. He can see Marian sizing her up, and Cora stares right back.
"If there's anything you two need, anything at all..." she says, leaning towards Marian, "You just let me know."
Fortunately Marian decides to keep her trap shut tight until Cora leaves. Instead, she just pours herself a mug of ale and takes a swig. Her eyes open wide in surprise and she coughs, "Ugh, this stuff is horrible, Allan, why does anyone drink it?"
"It grows on you, it does. Keep drinking and you'll see."
She perseveres admirably, and before long she's quaffed the whole thing. Allan offers up a small prayer for forgiveness; he doesn't want to be the one who corrupts Marian, but she was a right annoyance before, and now that she's finished the mug maybe she'll calm down a little.
Instead of calming she pours another mug. And then another. She stares at the tavern with round eyes. Then she gets the giggles over nothing at all as far as he can tell.
"All-right, Maz, maybe you better slow down a touch, yeah? Ale can be a bit strong."
She makes to reply but then goes silent as she stares at the stairway across the room. Allan follows her gaze. Oh Christ! Is that Guy coming down? Rumpled, half-laced, and followed by two smiling whores no less. Allan ducks his head, thinks maybe he won't see them, but no, the man's gaze lights on them right off and he starts across the room.
Allan offers up another prayer, this time for small mercies. Guy looks drunk off his skull, maybe he won't notice that it's Marian he's here with.
Guy weaves a little on the approach and then flops into a seat at the table.
"Allan," he says, then sits there staring.
"Guy," Allan says back, then he waits. He chances a glance across at Marian. She takes another big swig of her ale, then wipes her mouth with her sleeve. Shit, she's wiped off half her stubble and her mustache too. She sees the mustache on her arm and looks ready to come down with another fit of giggles. He silently wills Guy not to look at her. Luckily it works, or leastways Guy doesn't feel like looking at anyone but him.
"Guy?" he tries again, tentatively.
"Did I ever tell you that I hate my job?" the man replies. "Vaizey makes me do the most horrible things. You wouldn't believe...just today I had to...," he breaks off, looks like he's about to be sick.
Allan could swear there were tears there, pooling in his eyes. Gorr, this is shaping up to be a weird night, he thinks.
Eventually Guy sniffs, then continues, "...there were so many of them, they had been digging a tunnel." He explains, "They did I good job, I hated to..." abruptly he stops, Allan sees him sniff again, then he straightens up and shakes his hair out. Allan stifles a laugh, it always makes him laugh, the way Guy swings his hair around like a girl.
Allan glances over at Marian, she's staring at Guy, an unreadable expression on her face. He hopes to God she doesn't jump up and start doing high kicks or some shit like that. Guy is drunk, sure, but so is she. That certainly wouldn't be a pretty scene.
Luckily, Guy still doesn't notice her. Looks like he's perked up now that he's gotten that bit off his chest. He catches Allan's eye, then smirks, "Nothing that a couple of whores can't cure though, right Allan? Did you see the tits on that first one?" He makes an obscene hand gesture and the smirk turns into a full-on smile.
Oh shit, Allan thinks, just as Marian cuts in frostily, "A couple? A couple of whores?" And there's that fake voice again. Allan just hopes Guy is that drunk.
Guy starts and stares over at her. He must be even drunker than Allan was hoping if he hadn't even seen she was there.
"Who's your friend?" he asks, "Looks like he's just out of swaddling."
"Oh him, oh that's..uh...that's... Martin. Just met him here tonight, seems like a nice enough bloke." Marian shifts belligerently at Guy's comment, so Allan shoots a look at her, tries to warn her to be silent, that this isn't the Guy she knows back at the castle, all gifts and compliments. This Guy is dangerous to cross, doesn't think twice about paying back an insult by throwing the offending party in the dungeon, or worse. Really, he thinks, she should know already, she's fought him often enough. She glares, but stays quiet, and Guy rambles on in a curiously paternal tone, as if he's taken her aggressive stare as only so much teenage angst.
"Martin is it? Well, Martin, once you get a few years on you, you'll find find the truth of it all -- that the only thing better than one whore is two."
He laughs harshly, then sighs sadly, and Marian, remarkably, says nothing at all.
Guy continues, moving on into fond reminiscing, "Did you see that first one? Breasts like..." he cups his hands into an outrageously large shape, then continues, "...and the other, well, she had a tongue like nothing I've ever seen...I mean felt," he corrects with another smirk. Marian shifts in her seat, but Guy sighs again, and continues, melancholy now, before she can say anything, "They don't hold a candle to Marian, of course...she has...the most amazing..." and he stops, staring off into space.
Marian leans forward, "the most amazing,..?" she prompts.
Guy goes on, "I saw her once, you know, in the bath chamber. She didn't know I was there, behind the screen, and I crept out before she could see me...but not before I got an eyeful, let me tell you!"
Marian gasps in outrage, and Allan tenses, ready to dive across the table and restrain her, but instead of assaulting Guy, she just says flatly, "Yes, why don't you tell me all about it?"
Noticing nothing outside of what is clearly a treasured memory, Guy closes his eyes and keeps talking, "She has the most amazing breasts, just perfect...," he says, unconsciously cupping his hands again.
Allan can't help but compare them with Marian's chest...yup, that's just about right.
Marian stays silent and Guy isn't done yet, so Allan just listens helplessly as it gets even worse, "...with nipples just begging you to wrap your tongue around them...and hips like..." Guy licks his lips, traces two arcs in the air, then gets a predatory look on his face that makes Allan want to cover Marian's ears.
Guy finishes in a sensual growl, "yes, with hips that make you want to fuck her until she screams." His hands fist in the air and he rocks his hips a little before he opens his eyes and stares straight at Marian. He leans forward, "and trust me, she will scream. She will beg me for it before I'm done."
They just sit and stare at each other for what seems like an eternity. Allan is sure that Marian is going to stalk off in indignation, or else jump over the table and attack Guy, or that Guy will...well, to be honest he has no idea what Guy might do, but still...
Instead, she downs the last of her ale, then wipes the rest of her stubble off on her sleeve. Belatedly, Allan realizes that she has had almost the whole pitcher by herself. She stands up (she's a bit wobbly, Allan notes) and then walks around the table towards Guy.
Guy stares at her pants, says, "You know, you remind me of something..."
Allan readies himself, is sure they're going to fight, but then instead of socking Guy in the face Marian settles herself down on his lap -- and wriggles.
Allan's jaw drops practically to the floor. Guy mutters something about not liking boys, but then she wriggles again -- just like Cora, Allan realizes in horror. Guy shuts up right about then and wraps his hands around her waist and pulls her tight up against him.
Christ, this is bad! Never mind all that about her being drunk and unchaperoned (except for him he realizes) with fucking Guy of Gisborne, but she looks like a boy, well kindof anyway. Enough to get them all arrested; sometimes those types don't even make it to the dungeon before the mob tears them to pieces. He moves to casually block the entrance to the alcove.
He glances back, and now she is pressing her breasts into Guy's chest. He slides a hand into her shirt and murmurs, "wait... you are no lad..." before shooting a glare at Allan.
"Is this some kind of joke?" he growls.
"No!" Allan replies as innocently as possible, "I told you, I met him...umm....her in the bar...he told me his name was Martin." Guy keeps glaring and Allan looks for something to hide behind until Marian swings a leg over to straddle. Guy's attention snaps back to her and Allan watches helplessly as he burrows his face into her chest. He just catches a flash of Guy's tongue as he pulls her shirt open and slides his mouth over her breast.
Christ, this is bad! He swallows and forces his gaze back out over the room. This is his fault. He brought Marian, a complete innocent, here to the Trip, filled her with ale, and now he's set Guy loose on her. Granted, she coerced him into just about all of it, but still!
He hears her moan behind him and he's almost afraid to look. Especially when Guy laughs, and then starts murmuring in the darkly seductive tone that Allan knows so well, "You like that, don't you? You liked what you heard earlier. I bet you want me to do all of it...right now... to you... Shall I tell you what else I have in mind? I think you'll like it..." and then he whispers a series of increasingly filthy suggestions, some of which make even Allan's hair stand on end. He had not even known you could... he steels himself and glances back.
Guy's hands are cupping her arse now and he is bouncing her up and down on top of him. She throws back her head, then grinds her pelvis into his, and he groans, "oh yes, like that..." before dragging her mouth back down to his. Allan watches, mesmerized, as they kiss, and then as Guy's mouth moves over her jaw and neck, painting a shining trail back down to her breasts. She is gasping and shivering under his touch now, and Allan suddenly realizes that he can no longer see one of Guy's hands.
Christ! This is really bad. His head snaps back around to the front; he can't even stand to watch anymore. What should he do? If he stops them now, Guy will kill him. If he doesn't stop them, Marian will kill him once she's sober. Not to mention whatever Robin will do to him once he finds out.
He clears his throat, loudly.
"Martin," he calls.
No response.
"Martin!" he tries again.
No response.
Desperately, he decides to play his last card, "Martin! What about your uncle, Rob?"
"Oh," Marian says.
"Oh," she says again, "I have to go!"
Allan turns around as she jumps up and staggers away. Her shirt is ripped and half-undone, and her trousers are loose, but she swings her cape around herself and bolts for the door.
Guy gets over the surprise quickly.
"You!" he says, pointing dangerously at Allan.
"And YOU!" he yells, pointing at Marian's retreating back, "YOU! Get back here!"
Allan gets ready to run, because Guy is not someone you mess around with, and he has just been well and truly cock-blocked. Guy gets to his feet, puts his hand on his sword hilt...then tilts to the side and crashes to the floor.
Thank God for the drink; with any luck Guy won't remember any of this tomorrow.
___________________________________________________
The next morning, Allan wakes to a quiet but persistent tapping on his door. He pulls it open to reveal Marian, still in her Nightwatchman trousers and looking much the worse for wear.
"Marian," he greets her. "Oh," she whispers, "quiet, please... I have got such a head. I came to ask you to not to tell...anyone...about what happened last night."
"Sure, right," he says, then pauses for a moment as he thinks, "but Guy might ask me about..." and just like that she has her dagger out and is brandishing it at him.
"You will never tell Guy that was me, understand?"
He takes a step back; even half dead from a hangover she's scary.
"Yeah, yeah, OK, you got it, I'll never tell no one blah blah."
She tucks her dagger back in, then presses her hand to her forehead and leaves.
"Bye then," he calls after her.
Moments after he shuts the door someone starts banging on it. Allan walks back over and pulls it open saying, "Maz, I told you..."
He stops abruptly when it's Guy standing there.
"Marian was here?" he asks suspiciously.
"No, I mean, yes, I mean, she wanted to know if I had seen her hair pin, the one like a little dagger, you know?"
Guy rubs the bridge of his nose; he doesn't look so good either. He's wearing the same trousers as last night too, but for Guy that's nothing remarkable.
He sighs, then pulls his dagger out and brandishes it in Allan's general direction, "You will tell no one of the condition I was in last night, NO ONE. And you will NEVER repeat anything I might have said."
"Right, right, mum's the word, you can depend on me."
Guy stows the dagger, then turns on his heel and stomps down the hall.
Allan closes the door, then sags against it in relief. Phew. That had turned out about as well as could be expected. You would never catch him 'helping' Marian with anything foolish like that again.
He wonders idly if Guy will ever find out it had been Maz. He scratches his chest and yawns as he thinks of Marian's dagger. Well, not from Allan A'Dale he won't.