He stands with hands open, the post between them, a physical reminder of the wall that had been built ever since he first left for the Holy Land, and stares at her.

Qualities? Gisborne? It's impossible, unthinkable. Something within him begins to sink, followed by a hazy memory of Gisborne's battered face, smug as he spoke of Marian.

She is stirred by me.

"What qualities?"