He dreams of her. In what little sleep he finds in the stifling heat of the desert and his guilt, he dreams of her constantly. It is no surprise then, when she emerges into waking life from those dreams, crossing the subtle boundary between dreamland and real world with no difficulty.
In some ways, she is a comforting presence. To always have her by his side. Watching. In other ways, it is a torture. Not being able to touch her or hold her unless she chooses to let him.
He is sitting on a low wall looking out across the sea when he feels her hand stroke across his shoulders, and he turns slightly to glimpse her as she crosses behind him and vanishes.
Appearing leaning against a tree opposite him.
She turns to see where he had been looking and spies the ship awaiting him and the Sheriff.
"Going home then?" Marian's question is asked idly, but with the full knowledge of the power of that one word.
He had wanted a home. And a family. With her.
He nodded, though she already knew what his answer would be. There is nothing left for them in the Holy Land now.
She drifted towards him, her pale beauty irresistibly arresting. Closer. Closer still. Till she is close enough that he can inhale the scent of her hair and almost feel the warmth of her skin as she stands between his thighs, her body almost touching his.
He does feel her cool hand caress his cheek and trace across his jaw. He can almost feel her breath as her face moves lower, nearer to his own; and he can almost taste her lips and feel their softness brush against his.
Her left hand, as it strikes his face, is unexpected and stings.
"And you would leave me here?!" Her question demands an answer and her cold, hard stare demands even more, but Guy cannot even lift his head to meet her gaze.
It would be weakness for him to show her the tears in his eyes after all.