A Mule in a Horse Harness
Title: Denial, chapter 32: A Mule in a Horse Harness
Author: darkentwisted
Characters/Pairings: Guy & Allan Mentions: Robin, Legrand, Marian, Will
Rating: NC-17
Genre: angst
Words: 1941
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe
Notes: This continues the 'Round-Robin' fic 'Denial' and is set shortly after after 2x11, "Treasure of the Nation"; Made safe for reading by robinfanatic and wastingyourgum.
Summary: Guy and Allan go to visit Prince John.
Previous chapter summaries here!
Denial, Ch:32: A Mule in a Horse Harness
by
Darkentwisted
"So this is your new toy, Gisborne?" John sneered as he fingered the buckles on the former outlaw's doublet. "You always did go for the rough trade."
Allan studied the unpleasantly fussy man under his blond lashes. The trip to London was not unpleasant but meeting the man Robin had preached against so many times by the campfire, he was beginning to believe the legend. The prince's touch made his skin crawl and made his master smirk with amusement at Allan's discomfort.
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty? Allan is merely my manservant, nothing more."
"That's good then, isn't it?" Prince John studied the black knight like a cat would its prey. "Because sodomy is a sin and I would hate to put you to the torch." He continued to size up Allan. "Still, some things are worth the risk, aren't they?"
Guy blushed furiously. "Not to be disrespectful, Your Highness, but you asked to see me and I do not think it was to discuss my personal affairs."
"I will discuss with you what I see fit, Gisborne!" Although the prince's tone had changed to one instantly darker and more sinister, his voice had not raised one octave.
The point was not lost on Allan or Guy as they briefly exchanged glances. Guy spoke quickly and with more charm. "I did not mean to offend you, Your Majesty. What I meant was I know how valuable your time is and that we could get on with the trivialities of the meeting first." His eyes twinkled with unholy amusement as they brushed back over his nervous servant. "Then we could get on to more pleasant conversations about... prettier things."
Prince John smiled a weary smile as he ran the back of his hand against the former outlaw's smooth cheek. True, his attention was more drawn to a shapely ladies bosom or hips but a pretty young man had been known to turn his head once or twice as this one did now. The black leather Allan was wearing, in such an amusing echo of his master's, enhanced his fine delicate features..and other things, even more. "Yes, more pleasant things. Oh you are right, Gisborne." He turned and walked back over to the knight. Allan relaxed visibly and sighed under his breath. Bath time would have to come early tonight just to get the memory of the monarch's touch off his skin. "Business then. I understand our dear sheriff feels I should send my brother news of the incident in Sherwood."
"The sheriff says Hood attacked the Queen Mother and her private guard."
Hood attacked... Prince John put on his best distraught face, impressed at Vaizey's ingenuity.
"It seems that Hood had been informed of the queen's route. He'd turned one of her guards, the one known as Legrand," Guy continued.
"Mum's favourite knight?" John cried.
"The sheriff had to slay him to keep him from murdering Her Majesty."
Prince John feigned remorse and clutched a delicate silk handkerchief to his mouth. "She must have been heartbroken."
"Yes, Your Highness. If I may ask, what was the Queen Mother doing in the forest in the first place?"
Prince John frowned at his supporter's curiosity but smiled inwardly at Vaizey's loyalty for not telling his 'number one' man about his mother's imprisonment. "We had a 'misunderstanding of accommodations' at Pontefract Castle." He sniffed into his handkerchief and continued the theatrics. "The weather has been so hideous, I insisted she stay for an extended visit. She wanted to leave before spring to get back to her damn 'lavender farm'. Headstrong woman that she is, she had her royal guard spirit her away the first chance she got. Oh and then to have one of her men turn on her!" He looked at Gisborne with moist eyes. "You see, my mother doesn't love me like she does my siblings. It hurt at first when I found out, but I have learned to live with it." He focused on the hostile black knight. The brooding way Guy acted, the penchant for so much black leather, John spotted the neglected child inside the grown up man immediately. "You must also know how it feels to be unloved by a parent?"
Only the threat of the executioner's blade kept the black knight from backhanding the monarch at the mention of his parents. Instead he sneered, "I lost my family when I was still a boy."
"Oh, I'm sorry for your loss, Sir Gisborne." It was the first real emotion Allan had seen the monarch have since he met the man.
"Thank you, Your Majesty. I would just be pleased to see that the sheriff's message gets sent. The king must know that even his closest confidants have obviously turned against him. Come on, Allan."
The former outlaw bowed to the monarch and quickly followed in the black knight's footsteps. As they turned a corner he was quickly pulled into an alcove and Guy's leather clad arm was at his throat. "Not a word about what you have seen and heard today, Allan. Is that understood?" The servant nodded, his eyes focused on the colourless ones of his master. The malice faded as Gisborne ran his fingers down the side of his servant's face. "You think I'm a fool, Allan?" Guy sneered. "I'm perfectly aware the man in that room is nothing more than a mule in horse's harness. But the truth is, he doesn't know that." He let his eyes dance over Allan's face as he spoke. "The plan is in place. Soon I will have money, position and power. Stay with me, Allan. Play the game and so will you."
"You actually trust these people, Gis? Trust him?"
"He is our prince and lord protector of England," Guy reasoned. "Not trusting him would be treason, would it not? Are you a traitor, Allan? Are you a traitor like Robin Hood?"
Allan bristled at the word. "I am no traitor!"
Guy patted the former poacher's face. "That's the right attitude." He grinned. "Keep it up and we will both get what we want."
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The trip back to Nottingham was silent, somber, and made even more so by the unending torrent of rain. It had become difficult to ride the horses in the downpour, so the two men resorted to leading them as they walked through the forest. Allan was instantly taken back to another rainy day and another man with him. They'd held each other against the cold and damp and plotted their destiny that evening, so long ago. He missed those days. His life was now void and empty of colour. He felt lost in a world of gray and black, bad and worse, gloom and perpetual rain. When he closed his eyes at night, he saw the faces of his friends. They were always hurt and accusing. Sleep was becoming just another doorway to torment for the former outlaw.
Guy was equally lost in his own thoughts of power and lust for money. Marian had fast become relegated to another on the list of those he could only hold at arms length when he wanted to do so much more. Each day the battle deepened as he tried to make sense of who he could and couldn't trust. He looked around the woods for any sign of shelter and then tugged his animal's reigns at finding a dry spot. "We can stop here for a while till the rain lets up."
Allan said nothing but nodded as he also steered his horse over to the hollowed out large tree.
They tied the horses and went about starting a small fire to warm themselves. Allan coughed and sputtered as he blew the small amount of dried kindling from his pouch into flame. Guy snorted. "You can barely build a decent fire. How did you ever survive with Hood's men out in the woods?"
"Well I haven't had that much practice building a fire in the rain recently now, have I?" Allan still wasn't used to the banter he was beginning to share with the nobleman and still half expected to be backhanded for his cheek. He relaxed when Guy's only response was a sneer.
The fire started, Allan huddled against it for warmth. The rustle of wet leather caused him to turn. His cheeks reddened as he took in Guy's bare chest. "Not bein' funny, but what are you doing?"
"Staving off pneumonia. I suggest you do the same." Guy passed a glance over his servant. "Fetch the blankets out of your saddle bag."
Allan's stomach knotted but he quickly did as told. Before undressing he laid out dry blankets on the driest area next to the fire and then carefully removed his doublet. Guy pretended not to notice as he huddled under his blanket close to the fire. Allan laid his damp uniform over a limb and proceeded to curl up under his own blanket when Guy spoke. "Come here, let me warm you." It was gentle and almost fatherly. Allan nodded and curled up close to his master. Guy's flesh was cool at first, but instantly became heated against his.
Pale muscular arms wrapped around the former outlaw's thin frame as hands massaged his body. "Gis..."
"Shhhh, rest."
Allan marvelled that even as Guy said this, he could feel his master's growing hardness against the back of his braies. He knew slumber was the furthest thing from Gisborne's mind.
Guy moved against his servant, slowly and rhythmically. Allan turned in his arms and lips were silently pressed to his. As the kiss deepened the knight's tongue invaded his lover's mouth with want. Not a word was spoken but desire was instantly communicated through hands and mouths. Allan soon found his braies removed and felt Guy's stubbled chin as he ran it along his servant's neck.
"I want you, Allan," Guy hissed huskily into the blond servant's ear. Wordlessly, the former outlaw let his master explore him with his hands as fingers probed him intimately. The invasion made him gasp as he first tensed then relaxed at the sensation of fullness. Guy caught his lover's mouth in a bruising kiss as he continued to open him up. He moistened himself and then grasped Allan's thigh as he entered him from behind in one thrust that made them both groan.
Allan's vision was reduced to stars as searing pain gave way to a flood of warmth. He pressed against his lover. It was nothing like the alcohol-fuelled tryst in the castle. This time, it was gentle and almost caring and he leaned his head back and let his master take him with abandon. Guy matched his strokes deftly to his servant's hand on his own aching member. Allan felt himself growing closer with each thrust. He came in spurts into his hand as Guy released into him and they held each other silently as the waves of orgasm calmed. "My boy," Guy whispered as he smoothed Allan's blond hair over his perspiring forehead. "Tell me you're my boy, Allan."
"I'm your boy, Gis. You know that." Allan stared into the fire as his master's arms suddenly belonged to another man. He drifted off to sleep with Will's face in his mind.
On to John's dreams.