Guy's sister (Gisborne)

[Isabella]

Isabella stood tensely outside her brother’s room. She was sure he was in there, but still found it hard to summon the courage to raise her clenched fist to the cold, hard oak of the door and rap her knuckles against it. She needed to speak to him – she had spent the whole day debating with herself about it, and finally made up her mind to go and do it. Now that she had acted, she felt uncertain as to whether or not it was a wise choice to make. She and Guy loathed each other, and she doubted that that could ever be reversed. Some things just could not be forgiven. But they could, temporarily, be forgotten – at least, so Isabella hoped. She had not exactly endeared herself to her brother, which she was fully aware of. It was quite likely that he would slam the door in her face. But she had to try. She always had to try.

[Sir Guy of Gisborne.]

(( My apologies for the length of this post – I wrote it in the middle of a Geology exam that I wasn’t taking, but had to sit in on anyway! ))


He no longer lived in the castle – Long ago, Gisborne had taken command of Locksley Manor, and there was his remaining residence held. For long periods of time, no one had been allowed to enter. The rage that had engulfed him had taken over his entire life, and there was no way that he could come back from that. He was naught but a shadow of the man that he had been before.

Months previously, he would have taken every challenge thrown at him, without the barest word of complaint or question. Now that he was beginning to look after Number One, rather than his employer, or whomsoever it was to have the power over him, he had become even more cruel and heartless, and he could not control his temper. Rage spurted forth, without any word of warning, and the man had been known to take that cold anger out on anyone at all, who was dangerously near to him at the point when his mentality suffered a serious breakdown.

It was a vaguely good thing, then – At least for his manservant, and the maids of the Manor – That Gisborne had been searching his room in the castle for a single piece of parchment with his family’s distinctive crest on the wax sealing when his latest bout of mental torment had struck. Although he had been expecting it. The thought of his god-damned sister taking his position in the castle made him fly off the handle yet again.

Now, the room was entirely trashed. Papers and parchment scattered the stone ground like fallen leaves, many of them ripped into shreds. The curtains had been torn, and lay by the shattered window pane, allowing the cold air in, to chill him to the bone. He stood by the burned-out fire place, the cold ashes filling the base of the elaborate structure, although he did not look at it. He tasted blood on his tongue.

One hand clutching the wooden mantle above where the fire stood, his eyes were fixed on the middle-distance, outside of the window. He looked towards the forest with those steely eyes, darkened blue and filled with the sins he had ever committed. There were times when he did not think that he could sin anymore. He dreamed of the flames of Hell when he was allowed to close his eyes at night, and knew that he would soon be heading to the Underworld.

With shaking hand, he raised the goblet to his lips, and drank deeply from the red wine, barely pausing before it was all gone. Drunkenness suppressed him and subdued his anger sometimes, although there were the occasions when they merely increased his hatred and desire to kill, and cause pain. Mentally, he was sick, although refused to believe that fact, relying instead upon the excuse of the drink to bring out excessive emotions in him. Tears, even.

At the sharp double knock at the door, he did not reduce to panic, although was concerned as to the identity of who might want to see him. There was only one way to fight. He straightened the thick leather jacket he wore, and laid the empty goblet beside the decanter, on the wooden table. Thick scratch-marks scarred the hard wood.

“Enter.”

The gruff tone of the single word was laced by a faint slur – If picked up on it, he blamed this tiredness and lack of sleep. And no one would ever dare tell him that he was contradicting himself, if they valued their own life in the process…

[Isabella]

Isabella did as she was told, heaving open the heavy door to her brother's room with a small creak. She immediately saw Guy, and her eyes almost filled with tears in mourning for the strong young man he used to be. He loved her once, and she had loved him fiercely in return. But that had not lasted long. Ever since he betrayed her, she had grown more and more used to hating him, and now both of them were engulfed in loathing for one another. But although both of them had suffered, both of them had been set on the hard road in life, it had been manifested most in Guy. He stood in the centre of the room. His eyes open but they did not see, for they were so burning with hate the life had all but died in them. Isabella courtseyed to him, bowing her head so that she did not have to meet those horrific eyes for a few seconds, until she straightened up and forced herself to look into them.
"Brother," she began, her voice polite, almost kind, "May I speak with you?"
Guy seemed to her as if he had spent his entire life in hell itself, and was now ready to seek his revenge on the entire rest of the world. She feared what he would do to her if she angered him further, but tried not to think of it.

[Sir Guy of Gisborne.]

"Don't curtsey."

He spoke almost quietly, although immediately, watching her drop her knees slightly before him, and looked her up and down for a moment. She still looked like the sister that he had once loved so strongly, although he was still merely getting used to the fact that she was a woman now, rather than a child. Although he had loved her as his dearly beloved sister when they were younger, he had felt some sort of a power over her, and knew that he was the most dominant, seeing as he was both the elder child, and male. He was expected to inherit the family estates, although, when Gisborne had been burnt, he had been left to use Isabella as the only form of payment that he could.

"I am no better than you are."

The words were true. Through his lifeless eyes, he could see the young woman that she had become, and knew that she was just as headstrong and determined as he ever was, when he was her age. Now that he was older, he was expected to achieve a better position, lands, and a wife, although there was not one of that list that he had managed to achieve, and hold onto for longer than a couple of weeks. To all intents and purposes, Guy of Gisborne believed himself to be a failure.

"You have already begun. So speak. What is wrong that you need to concern me over? I was not aware that we were on speaking terms again..."

It was a childish comment, of course, although the biting sarcasm showed clearly through the words he spoke, looking straight at her, whether she chose to meet his eyes or not. That was her choice, and - For once - He was not going to be the man to force her into a conversation with him.

[Isabella]

"Of course we are on speaking terms," Isabella replied strongly.
She could see her brother's eyes full of more than just hatred for the world but also for himself. I am no better than you are, that was what he said. As a man, and as the eldest sibling, society ruled that he was. Isabella did not know what to think of him any more. It was hard to believe that this was what her brother had become. He had been such a handsome, ardent young man, but his passion had turned to ambition and a lust for power.
“It is Lady Rosetta Court I wanted to speak to you about,” she began, nervous to continue.
But she knew that she had to carry this through – she needed answers about that woman.

[Sir Guy of Gisborne.]

"Rosetta?"

Gisborne sighed deeply. At least it was nothing overly important, about anything else that would concern him. However, the woman by the name of Rosetta Court was a strange one. He had heard that she was practiced in the Dark Arts, although he had never approached her about it. He distanced himself from that sort of thing, aware that he was destined for the Underworld anyway.

"I presume that I know nothing more of her than you do? Why is one woman of such concern to you? Something is clearly troubling you. I know you better than you think, Isabella."

Regardless of what Guy had done to her when she was but a child, he had loved her before, and that had continued until she was thirteen. They had to get out of the poverty, and he had intended to rescue her, although his political career had become more important than family matters...

[Isabella]

Guy's words made Isabella feel uneasy. Guy knew his little sister well - but she was not just his sister anymore - she was a woman, with her own ambitions and her own feelings.
"Lady Rosetta is not a normal woman," she replied, "I am sure you have noticed that. You must have heard things about her. These things go round. But there is a lot that I do not know about her. Things which I would expect to know of a noblewoman. Maybe you have noticed this too.”
Isabella paused before continuing.
“It seems to me that she has told us very little about herself. And we can only wonder about her,” she said, “But what do you think on the matter?”
She was taking a gamble, she knew. But she hoped that this would pay off in the long run.

[Sir Guy of Gisborne.]

"She is not a woman that I have made contact with regularly. She prefers to remain... Out of the way of the rest of society. However, with the recent... Dilemmas, shall we say? in the castle, there have been little times when I have had the chance to interact with our guests. You understand that?"

It was an uncomfortable situation, to hold a conversation with the girl, his sister, although that fact was often lost to him. She seemed so different, although he thought that he still knew her. However, he was convinced that she had changed over the years that he had not seen her...

"Then again, it appears that she has been rather secretive about matters which should otherwise had been open. I am wary of her, yes..."

[Isabella]

Isabella nodded.
"I have not spoken to her much myself," she replied, "But I think it is wise to be wary of her. I believe her intentions could be very... untowards for someone. And if that is the case, then she must be stopped. I think it is a bad idea for her to be in such a position of trust, especially in these troubled times. Thieves and killers seem to be around every corner nowadays. I do not believe all that she has told us."

[Sir Guy of Gisborne.]

“Then, in that case, I will heed your warning, sister. If it is within my power, then I will see to it that someone of a higher authority than I gets word of what has happened here. Other than that, I expect you to look out for yourself, as well as for her…
However, I do feel that we are overlooking something. Something that might be dreadfully important, that we have missed.”

He sighed deeply, and ran a hand through his long, unruly hair. It had been tamed slightly, although still gave him the air of someone who was generally out of their mind, and not for a good reason…

“Do you know where she came from? Why she specifically chose Nottingham now?”

[Isabella]

Isabella nodded, relieved yet surprised that Guy was taking her seriously. He believed her. Then again, why shouldn't he? It was perfectly true. It was plausible that Lady Rosetta had come to Nottingham to harm someone - to assume herself into society before quietly seeing to her dark intentions. Isabella was looking out for herself, but she was surprised that Guy of all people had told her to do so. Mybe he still cared a little about what happened to his sister. She did still care about him, despite everything. When he said that they had missed something important, she had a sinking feeling that he was right. She bit her lip, trying to think of anything they had overlooked. Nothing. Despite her annoyance, she listened to Guy's next question as to the origin of Lady Rosetta. It made sense to question where she was from - after all, she was a woman with a more than hazy past. The corner of Isabella's mouth twisted upwards in a small smile for a second.
"She never mentioned anything about where she was from," she began, "But I decided to look into it a bit further. I checked the archives. The Court family are nobles, but they are not the richest. I believe that Lord Court was in power in a small village somewhere in Cheshire. But I do not know what became of him or his immediate family in Cheshire - apart from Lady Rosetta, of course. She told me that it was her father's will for her to marry Prince John. But she did not say where her parents are. I presumed she came to Nottingham to be married."