Disclaimer: Characters, as well as several direct quotes from the series, are not mine.

A/N: Here it is, the first of my reader plot bunny fics! Sorry it's been so long in coming, but it's actually quite lengthy. Almost 5000 words!

This story is dedicated to Obsessed362 who provided the following plot bunny:

"During an episode from the second season, Guy discovers that Marion is the Night Watchman, and she shows him her scar. Later, while attempting to escape, they struggle, and she ends up laying before the fireplace. I thought "he's going to clear the room and get down there with her." But alas, he walked away.. I think they missed a scene."

Starts with canon events from Treasure of the Nation, then goes AU from there. Rated M for sexual content. You're welcome. ;)

Marian. My Marian, love of my life. How could I have been so blind to her many betrayals? Was any of it real at all?

Guy of Gisborn hadn't known hurt so deep since he lost his parents so many years past. He had given Marian his heart, his trust, his loyalty; and she had gone behind his back, masquerading as one of his worst enemies. She had stolen from him, lied to him, aided and abetted his very worst enemy, all while allowing him to think that she might care for him.

Discovering Marian was the Nightwatchman had been a difficult experience, to say the least. After running from her side as if chased by demons, Guy had found himself crouched behind a large oak tree at the edge of the forest, head in his hands. He had fought valiantly against the tears that filled his eyes, but a few managed to make their way down his cheeks, despite his efforts. He hadn't shed a tear in more years than he knew. Marian had never hurt him so badly, even when she left him standing at the altar. This was the true end of all his hopes, his dreams for a life and love with Marian.

Now he was faced with a dilemma he had always hoped to avoid, but had, somehow, sensed he would one day face. Did he let Marian hang for her crimes? A part of him certainly relished the idea of revenge. She deserved to suffer. She had caused him more pain than he had ever known, and that was certainly not insignificant. The other part, the part that belonged unequivocally to her, couldn't bear the thought of a world in which Marian did not exist. He needed her, and he hated her for it, even as he loved her more than his own life.

No matter how many times he told himself to stay away, to detach himself emotionally and denounce her as a lost cause, he somehow found himself, once again, traversing the corridor towards her chamber. He was a glutton for punishment. His relationship with Marian had certainly taught him that much. He always found himself drawn back to her side, despite the pain he knew was inevitable when in her company. Her mere presence was somehow worth it all.

Guy was jolted from his ruminations by the acrid smell of smoke. Panic shot through him as he realized its source - Marian's room.

"Get that door open!" he shouted, breaking into a run towards the door.

Had Marian tried to harm herself? Could she be gone already? The thought was unbearably painful. How had Allen not seen the smoke? If anything happened to Marian, his dim-witted lackey would certainly pay the price for his negligence.

The door gave easily. Guy immediately realized that he had been mistaken to think that Marian's life had been in any danger. She was a clever woman. She had proven it many times, and now she had proven it again.

She had placed a line of burning embers at the base of the door, causing smoke to pour underneath it and into the corridor. The next thing he noticed was the knotted sheet hanging out of the window.

"Guards! She's escaped!" he called angrily.

So, Marian was gone - again. He had lost her. A moment of fresh panic hit Guy at the realization that he might never see her again. Surely she would not allow herself to be caught again, not at the risk of being sent to the noose. Worse, she may be, even as he spoke, on her way to join Robin Hood's gang. That would be the final blow, the ultimate betrayal that would make her death an absolute necessity. How would he survive it? The pain of her loss began to clench violently at his heart at the mere notion.

The sound of light footsteps in the room behind him alerted Guy to Marian's continued presence in the room. Her cleverness never ceased to surprise him. She bolted for the door, but Allen was in her way. Guy called to his lackey to stop Marian's flight, which he did with uncharacteristic competence. She fought him desperately, but, somehow, Allen was able to hold on until Guy reached them.

Wrapping his hands around her waist, Guy threw Marian forcefully to the ground.

"Fool!" he cried as he watched her land on the stone floor. His heart clenched at her cry of pain, which he had caused, but he refused to allow her to hope for any sympathy from him. Wiping the back of his gloved hand across his mouth, he schooled his face into an angry mask.

Guy paced the floor, fighting for control of his churning emotions, as he pondered his next move. Marian was the first to break the silence between them, her voice breathy and quiet as she pushed herself into a sitting position on the floor at his feet.

"Did you expect me to sit here, and wait to be executed?"

"No, I expect you to know when you're beaten!" he shot back heatedly.

Marian's only response was a derisive laugh, which only served to heighten his anger. Noting Allen's useless presence in the room, Guy ordered him, roughly, to leave, slamming the door behind him. Now he was alone in the quiet chamber with Marian, the woman who meant to world to him, the woman who had hurt and betrayed him. He could do anything he wanted to her now. She appeared so vulnerable, lying on the floor at his feet. Yet she was still so defiant, so sure of herself.

"This isn't a game, Marian," he cautioned. "When the sheriff returns, you are going to die!"

"Don't you have the courage to finish this yourself?"

She was taunting him again. Didn't she see? Didn't she understand the gravity of the situation? How could he help her if she wouldn't allow him to? if she wouldn't trust him?

"After all my so-called "betrayals," you should be glad to do it," she continued.

If only she knew how he truly felt, she never would have said such a cold-hearted thing to him. Did she truly know so little of his feelings for her? He would fall on his own sword before turning it on her. Desperate to maintain the neutral facade he was so quickly allowing to slip away from him, Guy raised his hands, as if to somehow distance himself from the situation. He couldn't, wouldn't be the one to make the call to end her life. He wouldn't live with her blood on his conscience.

"This is not my decision."

"Then perhaps it should be! After all, you were the one who professed to love me."

Marian knew exactly how to wound him. It cut him to the core that she so little understood the depth of his love for her. Never had merely professed to love her. Had he not proven it time and again? Had he not been constant in his devotion and blind in his trust? Had she not been the inconstant one? All this time, he had loved her, but had it truly been Marian that he loved, or the character she played for him?

"I thought that I knew you!" he shot back, the facade slipping a little more.

"This is me!" she insisted. "This is who I am! The Nightwatchman, everything!"

Guy began to grasp what Marian was insinuating. If he truly loved her, he would have to accept her past, and her misguided beliefs. He had always loved her spirit, her independent nature. She was unique in that way. He had never met a woman so fiery. The Nightwatchman was simply another manifestation of the spirit he loved.

"You say you love me, and you don't know me!"

Oh, but he did know her, perhaps even better than she knew herself. The fact that she still doubted his love hurt terribly. The facade had now completely crumbled.

"I defended you against the sheriff countless times, more than you know!"

"And I deceived the sheriff to help people, and, in so doing, I had to deceive you. I am sorry for that, but is it such a crime to follow my heart..."

Follow her heart? Her heart had, apparently, led her to betray and humiliate him, because that was exactly what she had done by going behind his back on her little charitable escapades. He had followed his heart. He had laid it at her feet even when he knew it would be stepped on, kicked, and discarded. Did she want him to beg? He was quickly reaching the point where it seemed a viable option. His heart couldn't take much more of this.

"Oh, like I followed mine?" Guy took a step closer and knelt before her, his eyes pleading with her to, finally, be merciful to him. "Always, to your door."

There. If that wasn't enough to convince her of the strength of his affections, he wasn't sure what else he could do. Her face registered shock, probably at the unexpected turn the conversation had taken. He shouldn't be surprised that he had shocked her. Not a minute earlier, he had been speaking of her impending execution, now he was professing his love and devotion. It seemed odd, even to him.

Leaning over her, her sweet, red lips parted, her tempting bosom heaving with her labored breaths, Guy was wounded by her beauty, her sheer loveliness, anew. He shook his head in consternation at his own weakness to her.

"Marian." He whispered her name reverently, as he had many times in the privacy of his room. Her very name had become immeasurably precious to him.

His eyes moved over her lovely face, memorizing her every feature for the inevitable day when she would be with him no more. Her porcelain skin, fathomless blue eyes, those temptingly plump lips.

Guy could recall the taste and feel of her lips as though it had been only yesterday that she granted him that first real kiss. He had replayed the moment over and over in his head, drawing strength from the memory of her passionate response.

She had responded to him. Her lips had parted easily to admit his tongue into the sweet warmth of her mouth. Her delicate moans had filled his ears like the sweetest music. He could do it again. She was within his reach. He could have her now, on the floor, and she would be helpless to stop him. Would she even try to stop him? Or would he, once again, taste her carefully-suppressed passion?

Before he truly knew what he was about, Guy closed the distance between them. With one hand, he cupped Marian's soft cheek. The other supported his weight as he moved over her, careful not to crush her with his body as he pressed against her. As soon as she was lying flat on her back on the stone floor, Guy pressed his lips to hers.

Marian gasped as she felt the entirety of Guy's strong form along every inch of hers. His lips caressed hers until they opened. His velvet tongue slid along hers, and a moan escaped her involuntarily. Before she knew it, his hands began moving over her, touching her in intimate places no man had ever touched before. Even through the barrier of her clothing and his leather gloves, his touched branded her like a hot iron.

It was exquisite. Her body always seemed to rebel against the logical part of her mind that told her to push Guy away. But the feelings he caused were too powerful to be denied. She kissed him back. His mouth tasted like spiced wine and his unique flavor that she had often recalled since the first time she had sampled it. Her fingers itched to touch him. She started by tangling them in his hair, that dark hair that had so often tempted her to touch. It was as soft as she remembered. Everything about his kiss was intoxicating. The scrape of his unshaven face against her delicate skin was a heady reminder that he was all man. His weight, his strength, the possessive touch of his hands on her body...

"Guy!" she gasped out as his mouth began to move down her neck, planting wet kisses and not-so-gentle nips on her sensitive skin.

Suddenly, his attentions to her person ceased, and she found herself staring into his mesmerizing blue eyes as he hovered over her. His voice was coarse with passion when he spoke.

"Marian, I will give you a chance, one final chance, to save yourself from the gallows. This is the last time I will ever offer this, so please think carefully before refusing me again."

Marian had a good idea of what he was offering. She had been sure that the last time he had offered her marriage, to save her from Prince John's soldiers, had been the last time he would dare offer. He had asked her if death was really preferable to being his wife. Her heart clenched with guilt at the thought of how deeply that must have hurt him. Yet, he had stayed by her side. He had been willing to die rather than abandon her. His love had been leveling her defenses, one by one, for several months now. How much longer could she resist him?

Of course, marrying Guy was preferable to death. He may not be her ideal husband, but he was handsome, loyal, and devoted to her. Perhaps, as his wife, she could change him, convince him to leave the sheriff. At any rate, it wouldn't much change her ability to assist Robin. In fact, she might even be privy to even greater secrets as Lady Gisborn.

Her heart pounding in her chest, Marian nodded her head encouragingly.

"Marian, marry me. Become my wife. Tonight. Now."

With a final, steadying breath, she nodded her consent.

The door closed behind them with an ominous clank. Marian knew there was no going back now. Her hands trembled both in anticipation and dread of what was to come.

As soon as her consent had been granted, Guy had pulled her from the stone floor and led her by the hand down the dark hallways to the castle chapel. He had left her alone, with instructions for her to await his return, and went in search of the priest. He returned with the priest as well as Allan and a guard, who were to serve as witnesses. They repeated their vows, some that they had said before, but, this time, the ceremony was completed. They were pronounced man and wife, and left the chapel arm in arm. With a dismissive nod towards Allan and the nameless guard, Guy had led his new bride directly to his bedchamber, where she now stood, awaiting his next move.

Guy turned towards Marian, and she was stunned by the intensity in his eyes. Happiness rendered his chiseled features strikingly handsome, reminding Marian of one of the several reasons she had decided to place her fate in his hands. Surely giving her body to such a beautiful man could not be such a hardship? In her mind, she saw him standing before a roaring fire clad in only leather trousers and leg armor, the firelight casting shadows over his muscled torso. No, surely it would not be such an imposition.

Suddenly, Marian's feet flew out from under her, and she found herself cradled in strong arms. Guy carried her to his bed, crawling through the billowy curtains to place her gently in the middle. He immediately placed his large body over hers, seeking her lips with a coarse groan.

Marian was overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of sensation caused by being penned under Guy's weight and bulk. She could feel the power of his solid muscles even through the thick leather he wore. When his lips crashed down upon hers, she strove to match his passion, but found it difficult to keep up with his urgency. It seemed that he wanted to devour her.

Guy's hands were not idle as his lips and tongue carried out their thorough search of his bride's sweet mouth. They moved over the swell of her breasts, then down to trace the dip of her waist and the curve of her hips. He loved her womanly form. She felt so soft and pliant lying underneath him. More than anything, he wanted to simply raise her skirts and make her his, but his love for her required that he remain considerate of her comfort and pleasure. Reminding himself that they had all night to become one, he took his time kissing and stroking her, allowing her to become accustomed to his caresses through the barrier of her dress.

After what felt like an eternity of reveling in his wife's kisses, Guy became aware of a uncomfortable amount of perspiration collecting on his back, and decided it was time to be rid of his leather jacket. He carefully extricated himself from Marian's grasp, and stood beside the bed, discarding his cloves before working the clasps of his jacket as quickly as his shaking fingers would allow.

Marian, who had become more excited by her new husband's kisses and caresses than she had ever thought possible, raised herself up on her elbows to watch with eager eyes as Guy began to shed his clothing. She knew what lay under the forbidding black shell was breathtaking: creamy white skin stretched over supple muscle.

Noting his wife's scrutiny, Guy smiled roguishly as he shrugged his jacket off, dropping it on the floor behind him. Underneath he wore only a threadbare black tunic with several holes in it. Not what he would have preferred to have worn to his wedding, but what were such minor details when Marian, his Marian, was lying in his bed awaiting his attentions? Grasping the hem of the tunic, he drew it over his head and tossed it aside. Standing perfectly still, he looked to Marian for some clue as to how to proceed.

Marian stared at his fine masculine form with maidenly wonder. He was even more impressive than she had remembered. Perfect, even. She pushed herself up further into a sitting position, leaning forward to run her fingertips over his warm skin. Guy gasped as her hand ran the length of his torso, from his collarbone to his navel. Catching her exploring hand in one of his, he raised it to his lips for a provocative kiss before eagerly rejoining his bride in bed.

Lying down beside her, Guy pulled Marian, once again, into his arms. This time his hands wandered over her back, caressing over the soft swell of her bottom, and, finally, finding them hem of her dress, which he promptly drew upwards until his fingertips felt the silkiness of her thigh. A deep groan escaped him as he caressed her there, and he couldn't stop himself from pushing against her wantonly.

"Marian," he whispered huskily, "turn over."

Marian hesitated, confused by his request. Strong hands grasped her shoulders, encouraging her to turn her back to him. Guy began to work the fastenings of her dress as soon as they came into view. Pulling them both into a sitting position, he released the final lacings, then placed his hands on her smooth shoulders to gently ease the garment down her arms, letting it pool at her waist.

Marian shivered as the cool air touched the tender skin of her torso. She was glad her back was turned to Guy. She felt vulnerable, exposed as she was. Her nipples began to harden in the cool air, and gooseflesh appeared on her arms and belly.

Guy began placing tender kisses along the back and sides of her neck, then down along her bare shoulders. His large hands slowly encircled her waist, moving with agonizing slowness until they cupped her heavy breasts, one in each hand. His fingers stroked lightly across her sensitive peaks, causing a rather violent reaction inside her body. She shivered and whimpered helplessly, able to do naught but give herself over to the ministrations of her new husband, trusting that he would be gentle with her. Trust had never come easy for Marian, but she realized that, in this case, she had no other choice.

Deft fingers continued their assault on her frayed senses, teasing and stimulating until she had nearly forgotten her nervousness. Indeed, who could think clearly when bombarded with such overwhelming sensations? His lips on her skin, those magical fingers, even the rasp of his light beard and the heat of his bare chest against her back all conspired to drive the last semblance of resistance from her body, the last vestiges of conscious thought from her mind.

Guy was scarcely less affected than his young bride. Finally being able to touch her, see her, as he had dreamt of doing for so long...There simply were not sufficient words to describe the sheer magnitude of what he felt. From his vantage point behind her, he could see that her uncovered beauty surpassed even his most vivid imaginings. She was perfect. Perfect.

"Marian." Guy's voice was barely a whisper in her ear. He repeated her name over and over, pleading for she knew not what.

One large hand left her breast and came to rest on the side of her face, turning her back towards him for an urgent kiss.

Marian was surprised by the desperation with which Guy attacked her mouth. His persistent lips forced hers open, and she immediately felt his hot tongue push inside, drawing hers into a heated battle. His hands on her shoulders pushed her back down onto the bed as he, once again, covered her body with his. Soon becoming annoyed with the bunched fabric that kept the fullness of her womanly shape from him, Guy pushed the crumpled gown down Marian's hips and legs, uncovering her completely.

Both gasped as the fabric found its resting place on the stone floor. Marian, from surprise and embarrassment, Guy, from sheer pleasure at the sight of every inch of her creamy skin before his eyes. For several moments he sat still, simply allowing himself to gaze his fill upon her beauty, purposely ignoring the ugly scar that was his own doing. He would agonize over what he had done to her later. For now, he would only rejoice in the reality that she was now his.

When his eyes finally wandered back to his bride's face, he was surprised to find that she had covered it with her hands. He immediately tried to pull them away, but she resisted.

"Marian, you needn't be embarrassed. You're perfect. I have dreamt of seeing you thus for...well, too long. Please let me see your face."

Hesitantly, Marian obeyed her husband. It took her several moments to gather her courage to look him in the eye, but, when she did, the tenderness and adoration written there banished most of her fears. Guy smiled tenderly down at her as he gently stroked her raven hair, fanning it out around her head. When he leaned down to kiss her slowly, Marian timidly placed her arms around his neck, returning the kiss willingly. While they kissed, the fingertips of one of his hands wandered slowly over her body, leaving a trail of gooseflesh wherever they caressed. Suddenly they halted their exploration, and Guy moved to capture her hands in his.

"Marian, please touch me. Please."

He placed her hands on his chest, then reclined on his back, opening himself up to receive her caresses. After some gentle encouragement, Marian reclined on an elbow and allowed her free hand to wander over Guy's torso and arms in much the same way his had explored her. Guy groaned at the feel of her touch, closing his eyes and drowning in the joy her ministrations produced.

Marian was astonished that so light a touch could affect him so profoundly. She had never seen him look so peaceful, so simply happy. How starved he was for affectionate contact! It must have been years since anyone had truly cared for him. She had said once, over a year past, that Guy had been deprived of love. She still knew it to be true, but never before had she felt so inclined to give it to him as at this moment. His face appeared so handsome, relaxed and free of all lines of care and anger that usually marred his visage. Her fingers wandered up his neck and over his stubbly jaw, tracing up over his high cheekbones and regal brow, then down over his long nose and, finally, gently fingering his soft lips.

Marian giggled with surprise as Guy playfully nipped at her fingers. Capturing her wandering hands in his, Guy gently rolled her under him. All laughter ceased as the mood became suddenly serious. Guy attacked Marian's lips ravenously as his shaking fingers worked the laces of his trousers. Realizing that the more he pulled the less progress he seemed to be making, Guy propped himself up on one arm so that he could see what he was doing. He cursed at the sight of the massive knot he had made of his laces.

Marian giggled nervously at his groans of frustration. Timidly, she pushed his fumbling hands away and slowly, patiently, worked tangle of laces until they gave way. All the while, Guy gently stroked the skin of her arm as his lips caressed her forehead and temples.

"There," Marian said began, her voice unsteady. "I got it."

"Are you ready?" Guy immediately asked.

Fearing that her voice was untrustworthy at the moment, Marian answered his question by placing her hands on either side of his trim hips as he hovered over her, pushing the leather gently down to his thighs.

Guy groaned in agony, his arousal painfully acute.

"This may hurt at first, Marian. Hold onto me."

Guy's voice sounded painfully strained to Marian's ears. Obligingly, she wrapped her arms around his strong shoulders and her legs around his waist.

Marian was jolted by an unexpected surge of pleasure as Guy's manhood brushed against her core. He purposely rubbed and pressed himself against her, persisting until she was nearly desperate for him.

"Guy!" she gasped, and then he was inside her.

Some time later, Marian sat astride her deliciously wet, naked husband in his copper bathtub, running a soapy rag across his perfect chest and belly. She could feel his manhood stirring, once again, to life underneath her bottom. His eyes were hooded with lust as he took in every detail of her bared form, his hands following the path of his eyes over her slick skin. He was in her power, and Marian was quickly becoming aware of the possible advantages of the new sway she held over Guy as his wife.

"What are your plans for tomorrow, Guy?" she asked in as innocent and unaffected a tone as she could muster.

Guy, oblivious to his bride's true motives, stroked his nimble fingers over the jagged edges of her scar as he answered.

"Well, taxes are due, once again, so I anticipate an order to collect from at least a couple of the villages. The sheriff wants additional workers for the mines, so I suspect I shall be forced to recruit several of those who are unable to pay their taxes for the job. I know you probably think that I delight in taking exorbitant amounts from hard-working people, and that I care not a wit for their suffering. But, the truth is, I hate what the sheriff orders. I have no choice but to obey."

Marian's hands stilled on his abdomen, her eyes focused on the soapy rag she held. She wasn't sure what to make of Guy's speech. If he hated what the sheriff ordered him to do, why did he not somehow resist? Wasn't everything in life a choice? It seemed her husband was too weak to stand up to Vaisey, as Robin had done.

"You believe me, don't you, Marian?"

Guy's uncertain voice roused her from her musings, and her hands resumed their task.

"Of course," she lied cooly.

Guy sighed in relief and relaxed back against the rim of the tub.

"It's so wonderful to have someone in whom to confide, Marian. You have no idea how wonderful."

As he spoke, Guy leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Marian's back, pulling her into his embrace as he positioned his now fully aroused member at her entrance.

Marian obediently undulated her body against Guy's as he moaned into her neck. The water rippled in soft waves around their bodies as they moved together as one. Marian allowed herself to become lost in the pleasure Guy was bestowing on her body, her mind going temporarily blank. As soon as the final tremors shook her body, then slowly ebbed, her mind took up the task of planning to meet with Robin as soon as Guy left in the morning. Now, if only she could discover which villages would need protecting...

Fin

I guess Marian still hasn't learned her lesson... Did you catch my little bit of irony with the Guy thinking he would fall on his own sword for her thing?

Review if you want more shirtless Guy scenes in the future! Now, off to start work on the next plot bunny!