Denial, chapter 63: New Beginnings
Title: Denial, Chapter 63: New Beginnings
Author: robinfanatic with wastingyourgum and darkentwisted
Characters/Pairings: Djaq, James, Carter, Much
Mentions: Will
Rating: pg-13
Genre: drama, angst
Words: 2076
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe
Notes: This continues the 'Round-Robin' fic 'Denial'. Beta'd by teamlavender . Takes place during 2x13.
Summary: King Richard did not sentence Djaq to the same fate as the gang. She was not tied up in the desert. Her life was spared...or was it?
Previous chapter summaries & info about writing for Denial are here...
>>>--------------->>
New Beginnings
by robinfanatic
with wastingyourgum and darkentwisted
Djaq turned defiantly as the soldiers shoved her into James' tent. They ignored the glare she shot their way and posted themselves outside.
Time seemed to pass slowly while Djaq waited, and she was almost relieved to hear James approach and dismiss the two soldiers standing guard outside the tent. He pushed the tent flap aside and leered at her. "I am going to enjoy your company as much as Locksley and his gang did. All the sweeter because I know the desert is claiming their traitorous hides."
Djaq swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew the heat - it was both an old friend and an old enemy. She knew, too, that Robin and Legrand would have already seen for themselves their own comrades succumbing to the agony of being roasted alive like a side of meat on a spit. She was glad that John and, especially, Will did not know what lay ahead; the loss of wits, pounding heart, nausea and convulsions before the unnatural sleep leading to death....
Sweat beaded on her forehead. She was alive and she had to believe there was a way out - for herself and the child she carried, for her friends…for Will.... She had to get to them before the blazing sun took them - and this Englishman stood in her way. "What are you talking about?"
"Come now, you little Saracen whore." He approached her with a wicked smirk on his face. He wasn’t as tall, nor nearly as muscular as King Richard, but he paraded around as if he had power that rivaled his sovereign. "You cannot tell me that Locksley hasn't bedded you. How much did he pay for you?" James thumbed her cheek, his calloused hand sweaty against her skin.
Djaq suppressed a shudder and flashed him a coy look. "I made it worth his silver, my Lord," she said with a smile. "Or should I say King Richard's nobles' silver?" Djaq rested her hand atop his, noticing the ring on his finger. She sucked in a breath. She knew that design - it belonged to the Black Knights.
"Do you recognize the design?" James asked.
Djaq played her finger around the insignia. "In Nottingham," she admitted, knowing that a lie would get her nowhere. But a twist of the truth… "Robin let me wear his--"
"What! Locksley is not a Black Knight!"
"I saw many things while I lived in Hood's camp, my Lord. Things his own men would be shocked to know. Secret meetings at the castle. Meetings with the sheriff."
"The sheriff? Locksley is not--" James frowned, turning away for a moment to consider that Vaizey might be lying to him. The man was unscrupulous. He wouldn't put it past him to rid himself of competition for wealth and land. He certainly was behind the murder of Lord Winchester though he'd blamed Hood for that. What else would he do to consolidate his power?
"Does that matter, my Lord?" Djaq asked innocently. Dragging her hand down James' arm, she was intent on reaching the sword at his waist. His hand found hers before she could grasp the hilt. When he pressed it toward his groin, she knew he'd not realized her intent.
"Sir James?" a voice called from outside the tent as Djaq attempted to fend off his advances.
James scowled at the interruption. "What is it?"
"A message for you, my Lord."
Frustrated, James took a deep breath and released Djaq's hand. He ran a finger along her jaw line then turned and stepped outside. "What?"
"From Poitiers. Another letter--"
James held a finger to his lips then eyed the messenger. "En francais."
<"Another letter from the queen, my Lord,"> the messenger said.
James smiled at the young man. <"Would that we all had time to write long missives.">
<"She did wonder why the king had not responded to her news from Nottingham, milord.">
<"What did you tell her?"> James asked, his voice dark.
<"I said I only delivered his majesty's letters, that I was not privy to his thoughts.">
<"Ah, yes. So true.">
<"She directed me to speak with him personally.">
<"Did she?"> James rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. His gaze met the younger man's then he pulled a pouch from his belt and retrieved several coins. They clinked as they fell into the messenger's palm. <"There will be ten more like that when you come back tomorrow for the message you will take back to the queen.">
Djaq had her back to James when he returned, pretending to study the sparse trappings of his tent. She turned around as he tossed the letter into a pile of ash in a bowl on the chest that stood at the end of his cot. "A letter?" she asked. "From your family?"
Brow furrowed, James eyed her suspiciously for a moment. <"Do you read?"> he asked in French.
Djaq's French was as good as her English. Not only could she read the language, but she'd understood every word that passed between James and his messenger. She threw James a puzzled look and smiled innocently when he laughed at the silly expression on her face.
>>>---------------->
Much glanced at Carter as the messenger hurried away. The pay-off was a good sign, and one look from Carter confirmed there was something very suspicious about James' meeting.
Carter motioned Much to circle back around the neighbouring tent.
"I knew it," hissed Much when they stopped and Carter translated the conversation. "He's a traitor. I knew there was something off about him. What do we do?"
“I’ll tell James that the king is back and has asked us to report to him.”
“Would it be better if I did that? The king would send a squire rather than-”
“I'll distract James. You get Djaq. She'll trust you more than me.”
Much nodded confidently. “Let’s go.”
Carter sent him a wink hoping it masked his fear. He could almost smell blood in the air and prayed that neither the king nor his friends would meet untimely ends on this day. James would not make their task easy.
Much crept toward the rear of James' quarters. Voices drifted from the mess tent nearby, their comrades partaking of a noontime meal.
Carter hurried round to the main pathway between tents occupied by the king's closest advisors. He was relieved that the area was deserted. "James," he called, "it is Carter. May I have a word?"
There was a muffled curse from inside the tent. Carter could only imagine what was going through Much’s head. It seemed that they were just in time.
Much peeked into the tent. “Psst...Djaq...”
“Much?” she whispered. She spotted him crawling under the side of the tent and a huge smile curled the edges of her lips.
“We’re here to rescue you!” He grinned as he looked up at her, his voice just a whisper.
She extended her hand to help him stand. It was a tight squeeze between James’ cot and a huge trunk. Much’s arm brushed along her body as he got to his feet as she pulled him into a hug.
"Your stomach--it moved!" Much's eyes grew wide with realisation. "Are you-- How long?"
Djaq blushed. "A few months."
"Will knows-- It is Will's, isn't it?"
"Much!" Djaq's dark eyes smiled.
Much felt the baby move again. "That crafty craftsman!"
Outside the tent, Carter's conversation with James grew louder.
"I want the woman." Carter’s voice was firm.
"I thought you just shared a bed with your squire, Carter,” James sneered, “not whores as well." He pushed past Carter and re-entered his quarters, halting abruptly when he spotted Much. "Well...speak of the devil."
"She is no whore!" Much exclaimed, bristling.
James' brow arced over one evil eye. "No?" He looked at Much. "Come now...surely, you had a go at her back in Sherwood?"
Much stiffened with anger. "I did no such thing. She--"
Carter stepped into the tent behind James and said, "--is not yours for the taking."
James glanced over his shoulder, seemingly unconcerned. "She is a Saracen whore. I will have her if I choose. In fact, she will serve me well in many ways. Look at her," he gushed, parading towards Djaq. "Quite the beauty. She'll make quite a good breeder, too, no doubt."
Eyes widening, Much blushed a dark red. He opened his mouth but was too flustered to utter a word. Much's innocence still managed to surprise Carter. He would have thrown his arms around the man and kissed him if Djaq's life wasn't at stake.
Djaq glared at James. "You," she said emphatically, "will never touch me!" She barged into him, throwing him off balance, then grabbed the queen's letter from the chest and retreated to Carter's side.
James drew his dagger. "Give that back to me, whore. You'll pay for that insult."
Carter slowly pulled one of his long daggers from its scabbard.
James heard another blade being unsheathed behind him. He remained stone-faced, looking over his shoulder to see the dagger in Much's hand. Drawing himself up, James turned slowly, his eyes darting from one knight to the other. "You would draw weapons to protect a Saracen?"
"These weapons protect my king from traitors like you!" Carter said coolly, his blade pointed toward the older knight's throat.
"You heard?" Djaq asked.
Much nodded that little sideways nod. "Every word."
<"And I have the letter from Queen Eleanor meant for your king,"> Djaq added in flawless French, waving the parchment in the air.
"What do you think King Richard will say about that, James?" Carter asked. "Your game is up. Will you come with us to the king's pavilion? Admit your guilt?"
James chuckled but his brow was furrowed in a frown. "And suffer the same fate as Locksley and his friends? I think not."
James suddenly lunged at Carter.
Carter deflected the unexpected strike, James' blade missing his throat by inches. He stumbled back over a chest lying beside him.
Djaq dodged the swordplay and stood nervously by the tent's entrance. She glanced outside to make sure no-one was alerted by the commotion within.
James spun around catching Much's ploy to draw his attention away from Carter. Their blades clashed and the hilts locked. James forced Much's dagger to the side, exposing his body. James swiftly jabbed his fist into Much's stomach, making Much's breath come out in a rush. Much staggered back a few steps and fell to the floor. His blade slid free from James' as he fell and James turned back to Carter.
Carter scrambled to his feet in time to meet James' second attack. Evading that thrust, Carter was forced backwards in the tight quarters of the tent. When James lunged for him again Carter feinted and seized James' wrist. James grabbed Carter's sword arm with his free hand and the two men grappled, both pressing for an advantage.
Their struggle caused them to swing round so Carter was now between Much and James, and James had his back to Djaq and the door - and escape.
Djaq checked outside the tent once more then looked for something within arm's reach that she could use to hit James but nothing nearby was of any use.
Much stood up and advanced towards the two wrestling men. James quickly glanced up at his approach but just as quickly dismissed him - there was no way for him to get past Carter.
Djaq gasped as Much shouted and launched himself towards Carter's back. Carter ducked, twisting down to his right in a move that looked smooth and practiced as Much's blade swung in from the left over his head.
James' face was flushed with anger which changed to shock as he spotted the arc of Much’s dagger a second too late. It ripped his neck open and he collapsed, blood spurting like raindrops on the hot sand.
Much looked down at Carter who had sunk to one knee under him. He reached down with his right hand and helped Carter to his feet.
"Everyone all right?" Carter asked.
Djaq exchanged a nod with both men. “Fine.”
"Carter and I will get the others," Much told Djaq. "You should stay here and rest."
Djaq scowled. "I'm pregnant, Much, not an invalid.”
Carter eyed them both, a bemused expression on his face.
“How about that, Carter?” Much said.
The younger knight feigned little interest as dark memories of his own children's quickening returned. "I can see, Much."
"Well you have to do more than see!” Much insisted, tugging him closer. “Come feel...here."
Carter frowned. "We don't have time for this."
Djaq reached for him. He relented when she nodded gently and he placed his own hand next to Much's.
The first bump brought a timid smile to Carter’s face. He pushed back the ache in his heart. “This child needs a father,” he told his friends.
“He needs uncles, too!” Much grinned.
“You are right, Much!” Djaq agreed.
Carter cuffed Much’s neck. “Let’s go find them.”
>>>-------------------->
Will Carter, Much and Djaq arrive before it's too late? Ch. 64 is this way...
Author: robinfanatic with wastingyourgum and darkentwisted
Characters/Pairings: Djaq, James, Carter, Much
Mentions: Will
Rating: pg-13
Genre: drama, angst
Words: 2076
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe
Notes: This continues the 'Round-Robin' fic 'Denial'. Beta'd by teamlavender . Takes place during 2x13.
Summary: King Richard did not sentence Djaq to the same fate as the gang. She was not tied up in the desert. Her life was spared...or was it?
Previous chapter summaries & info about writing for Denial are here...
>>>--------------->>
New Beginnings
by robinfanatic
with wastingyourgum and darkentwisted
Djaq turned defiantly as the soldiers shoved her into James' tent. They ignored the glare she shot their way and posted themselves outside.
Time seemed to pass slowly while Djaq waited, and she was almost relieved to hear James approach and dismiss the two soldiers standing guard outside the tent. He pushed the tent flap aside and leered at her. "I am going to enjoy your company as much as Locksley and his gang did. All the sweeter because I know the desert is claiming their traitorous hides."
Djaq swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew the heat - it was both an old friend and an old enemy. She knew, too, that Robin and Legrand would have already seen for themselves their own comrades succumbing to the agony of being roasted alive like a side of meat on a spit. She was glad that John and, especially, Will did not know what lay ahead; the loss of wits, pounding heart, nausea and convulsions before the unnatural sleep leading to death....
Sweat beaded on her forehead. She was alive and she had to believe there was a way out - for herself and the child she carried, for her friends…for Will.... She had to get to them before the blazing sun took them - and this Englishman stood in her way. "What are you talking about?"
"Come now, you little Saracen whore." He approached her with a wicked smirk on his face. He wasn’t as tall, nor nearly as muscular as King Richard, but he paraded around as if he had power that rivaled his sovereign. "You cannot tell me that Locksley hasn't bedded you. How much did he pay for you?" James thumbed her cheek, his calloused hand sweaty against her skin.
Djaq suppressed a shudder and flashed him a coy look. "I made it worth his silver, my Lord," she said with a smile. "Or should I say King Richard's nobles' silver?" Djaq rested her hand atop his, noticing the ring on his finger. She sucked in a breath. She knew that design - it belonged to the Black Knights.
"Do you recognize the design?" James asked.
Djaq played her finger around the insignia. "In Nottingham," she admitted, knowing that a lie would get her nowhere. But a twist of the truth… "Robin let me wear his--"
"What! Locksley is not a Black Knight!"
"I saw many things while I lived in Hood's camp, my Lord. Things his own men would be shocked to know. Secret meetings at the castle. Meetings with the sheriff."
"The sheriff? Locksley is not--" James frowned, turning away for a moment to consider that Vaizey might be lying to him. The man was unscrupulous. He wouldn't put it past him to rid himself of competition for wealth and land. He certainly was behind the murder of Lord Winchester though he'd blamed Hood for that. What else would he do to consolidate his power?
"Does that matter, my Lord?" Djaq asked innocently. Dragging her hand down James' arm, she was intent on reaching the sword at his waist. His hand found hers before she could grasp the hilt. When he pressed it toward his groin, she knew he'd not realized her intent.
"Sir James?" a voice called from outside the tent as Djaq attempted to fend off his advances.
James scowled at the interruption. "What is it?"
"A message for you, my Lord."
Frustrated, James took a deep breath and released Djaq's hand. He ran a finger along her jaw line then turned and stepped outside. "What?"
"From Poitiers. Another letter--"
James held a finger to his lips then eyed the messenger. "En francais."
<"Another letter from the queen, my Lord,"> the messenger said.
James smiled at the young man. <"Would that we all had time to write long missives.">
<"She did wonder why the king had not responded to her news from Nottingham, milord.">
<"What did you tell her?"> James asked, his voice dark.
<"I said I only delivered his majesty's letters, that I was not privy to his thoughts.">
<"Ah, yes. So true.">
<"She directed me to speak with him personally.">
<"Did she?"> James rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. His gaze met the younger man's then he pulled a pouch from his belt and retrieved several coins. They clinked as they fell into the messenger's palm. <"There will be ten more like that when you come back tomorrow for the message you will take back to the queen.">
Djaq had her back to James when he returned, pretending to study the sparse trappings of his tent. She turned around as he tossed the letter into a pile of ash in a bowl on the chest that stood at the end of his cot. "A letter?" she asked. "From your family?"
Brow furrowed, James eyed her suspiciously for a moment. <"Do you read?"> he asked in French.
Djaq's French was as good as her English. Not only could she read the language, but she'd understood every word that passed between James and his messenger. She threw James a puzzled look and smiled innocently when he laughed at the silly expression on her face.
>>>---------------->
Much glanced at Carter as the messenger hurried away. The pay-off was a good sign, and one look from Carter confirmed there was something very suspicious about James' meeting.
Carter motioned Much to circle back around the neighbouring tent.
"I knew it," hissed Much when they stopped and Carter translated the conversation. "He's a traitor. I knew there was something off about him. What do we do?"
“I’ll tell James that the king is back and has asked us to report to him.”
“Would it be better if I did that? The king would send a squire rather than-”
“I'll distract James. You get Djaq. She'll trust you more than me.”
Much nodded confidently. “Let’s go.”
Carter sent him a wink hoping it masked his fear. He could almost smell blood in the air and prayed that neither the king nor his friends would meet untimely ends on this day. James would not make their task easy.
Much crept toward the rear of James' quarters. Voices drifted from the mess tent nearby, their comrades partaking of a noontime meal.
Carter hurried round to the main pathway between tents occupied by the king's closest advisors. He was relieved that the area was deserted. "James," he called, "it is Carter. May I have a word?"
There was a muffled curse from inside the tent. Carter could only imagine what was going through Much’s head. It seemed that they were just in time.
Much peeked into the tent. “Psst...Djaq...”
“Much?” she whispered. She spotted him crawling under the side of the tent and a huge smile curled the edges of her lips.
“We’re here to rescue you!” He grinned as he looked up at her, his voice just a whisper.
She extended her hand to help him stand. It was a tight squeeze between James’ cot and a huge trunk. Much’s arm brushed along her body as he got to his feet as she pulled him into a hug.
"Your stomach--it moved!" Much's eyes grew wide with realisation. "Are you-- How long?"
Djaq blushed. "A few months."
"Will knows-- It is Will's, isn't it?"
"Much!" Djaq's dark eyes smiled.
Much felt the baby move again. "That crafty craftsman!"
Outside the tent, Carter's conversation with James grew louder.
"I want the woman." Carter’s voice was firm.
"I thought you just shared a bed with your squire, Carter,” James sneered, “not whores as well." He pushed past Carter and re-entered his quarters, halting abruptly when he spotted Much. "Well...speak of the devil."
"She is no whore!" Much exclaimed, bristling.
James' brow arced over one evil eye. "No?" He looked at Much. "Come now...surely, you had a go at her back in Sherwood?"
Much stiffened with anger. "I did no such thing. She--"
Carter stepped into the tent behind James and said, "--is not yours for the taking."
James glanced over his shoulder, seemingly unconcerned. "She is a Saracen whore. I will have her if I choose. In fact, she will serve me well in many ways. Look at her," he gushed, parading towards Djaq. "Quite the beauty. She'll make quite a good breeder, too, no doubt."
Eyes widening, Much blushed a dark red. He opened his mouth but was too flustered to utter a word. Much's innocence still managed to surprise Carter. He would have thrown his arms around the man and kissed him if Djaq's life wasn't at stake.
Djaq glared at James. "You," she said emphatically, "will never touch me!" She barged into him, throwing him off balance, then grabbed the queen's letter from the chest and retreated to Carter's side.
James drew his dagger. "Give that back to me, whore. You'll pay for that insult."
Carter slowly pulled one of his long daggers from its scabbard.
James heard another blade being unsheathed behind him. He remained stone-faced, looking over his shoulder to see the dagger in Much's hand. Drawing himself up, James turned slowly, his eyes darting from one knight to the other. "You would draw weapons to protect a Saracen?"
"These weapons protect my king from traitors like you!" Carter said coolly, his blade pointed toward the older knight's throat.
"You heard?" Djaq asked.
Much nodded that little sideways nod. "Every word."
<"And I have the letter from Queen Eleanor meant for your king,"> Djaq added in flawless French, waving the parchment in the air.
"What do you think King Richard will say about that, James?" Carter asked. "Your game is up. Will you come with us to the king's pavilion? Admit your guilt?"
James chuckled but his brow was furrowed in a frown. "And suffer the same fate as Locksley and his friends? I think not."
James suddenly lunged at Carter.
Carter deflected the unexpected strike, James' blade missing his throat by inches. He stumbled back over a chest lying beside him.
Djaq dodged the swordplay and stood nervously by the tent's entrance. She glanced outside to make sure no-one was alerted by the commotion within.
James spun around catching Much's ploy to draw his attention away from Carter. Their blades clashed and the hilts locked. James forced Much's dagger to the side, exposing his body. James swiftly jabbed his fist into Much's stomach, making Much's breath come out in a rush. Much staggered back a few steps and fell to the floor. His blade slid free from James' as he fell and James turned back to Carter.
Carter scrambled to his feet in time to meet James' second attack. Evading that thrust, Carter was forced backwards in the tight quarters of the tent. When James lunged for him again Carter feinted and seized James' wrist. James grabbed Carter's sword arm with his free hand and the two men grappled, both pressing for an advantage.
Their struggle caused them to swing round so Carter was now between Much and James, and James had his back to Djaq and the door - and escape.
Djaq checked outside the tent once more then looked for something within arm's reach that she could use to hit James but nothing nearby was of any use.
Much stood up and advanced towards the two wrestling men. James quickly glanced up at his approach but just as quickly dismissed him - there was no way for him to get past Carter.
Djaq gasped as Much shouted and launched himself towards Carter's back. Carter ducked, twisting down to his right in a move that looked smooth and practiced as Much's blade swung in from the left over his head.
James' face was flushed with anger which changed to shock as he spotted the arc of Much’s dagger a second too late. It ripped his neck open and he collapsed, blood spurting like raindrops on the hot sand.
Much looked down at Carter who had sunk to one knee under him. He reached down with his right hand and helped Carter to his feet.
"Everyone all right?" Carter asked.
Djaq exchanged a nod with both men. “Fine.”
"Carter and I will get the others," Much told Djaq. "You should stay here and rest."
Djaq scowled. "I'm pregnant, Much, not an invalid.”
Carter eyed them both, a bemused expression on his face.
“How about that, Carter?” Much said.
The younger knight feigned little interest as dark memories of his own children's quickening returned. "I can see, Much."
"Well you have to do more than see!” Much insisted, tugging him closer. “Come feel...here."
Carter frowned. "We don't have time for this."
Djaq reached for him. He relented when she nodded gently and he placed his own hand next to Much's.
The first bump brought a timid smile to Carter’s face. He pushed back the ache in his heart. “This child needs a father,” he told his friends.
“He needs uncles, too!” Much grinned.
“You are right, Much!” Djaq agreed.
Carter cuffed Much’s neck. “Let’s go find them.”
>>>-------------------->
Will Carter, Much and Djaq arrive before it's too late? Ch. 64 is this way...