For King and Country 4/5
Title: For King and Country 4/5
Rating: M
Word Count: 2130
Warnings/Genre: angst, slash
Characters/Pairings: Much/Carter, Robin/Much/Carter, Allan, John, Count Friedrich, Will, Djaq
Copyright: BBC & TA own; I just want to play in their universe
Summary: a post series 2 AU tale of DeNile. The gang's mission: rescue King Richard from his captors in Bavaria.
With lots of hugs to thestorymaker and darkentwisted for their encouraging words...
Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3
>->------------>>
Chapter 4
“C’mon, lads,” Robin shouted as he knocked on the gang’s chamber doors. “The count is waiting for us.”
“Alright, alright,” Allan said as he poked his head into the hallway. “Let me get my boots. What’s the rush? Not bein’ funny, but the King ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
“Actually yes, he is,” Robin told the poacher.
John appeared from the far end of the corridor. “What?” he asked. He was dressed in the monk’s habit, his quarterstaff at his side. He glanced at Robin then at Allan who was leaning against the frame of the bedroom door struggling to plant a foot firmly in one boot. “Am I overdressed?”
“You’re fine, John,” Robin said as he pounded on the door to Carter’s room. “Carter! Much! Let’s go. Breakfast is waiting for us.” He threw a wink at his friends. “Something else, too.”
“Somethin’ else?” Allan asked.
“Robin, what do you mean--about the King?”
“No worries, John. Might mean a slight change of plans.”
“If that means an easier rescue I’m all for it,” Allan said as Much slipped into the hallway.
“Good morning, Much. Sleep well?” Robin’s face was lit with a cocky grin. He looked past Much into the bedchamber. “Where’s Carter?”
John sighed and shook his head but Allan refused to let the moment pass. “Wore him out I bet, didn’t you?” he asked, his blue eyes sparkling.
Neither a smile nor a jealous passed Much’s lips. Not even a shut up, Allan. “He’ll be out in a minute,” Much replied without taking the bait.
Robin eyed his old friend, his grin replaced with concern as his hand landed on Much’s shoulder. “Everything alright?”
“Fine,” Much replied with a grateful squeeze to Robin’s hand. “Go on ahead. We’ll catch up.”
“We can wait,” Robin insisted.
Carter appeared at the door. “Sorry,” he said, purposefully ignoring eye contact with everyone but Much.
The others may not have noticed but Robin didn’t miss the pain in Carter’s eyes. “Let’s go,” he said.
“Ah…there you are!” Count Friedrich exclaimed from the top of the stairway. “Come. My kitchen staff is not pleased when they have worked so hard to prepare a hearty meal that goes cold. I may not hear the end of it.”
“We wouldn’t want the food to get cold, right, Much?” Allan said. “Don’t suppose the cooks do squirrel, eh, your countship?”
“Squirrel?” the count grimaced.
Little John playfully slapped Allan’s shoulder, shoving him toward the stairwell. “Just ignore Allan, my lord,” John told the count. “Too much time in the forest.”
Friedrich eyes narrowed and he tipped his head in understanding. “Ah, of course,” he said. He waved his hand with a flourish. “This way, gentlemen.”
Robin looked worriedly from Carter to Much. It was bad enough that Carter’s usual spark-smug though it could be at times-had dimmed. But it was so unlike his former manservant to ignore Allan’s taunts. Much did manage a soft smile as Carter’s fingers twined through his. That little gesture sent a spark of envy through Robin. The archer pushed back the lump in his throat as he got in step behind the lads to follow the count down the stairs toward the dining room.
Allan pointed at the two extra place settings at the dining table as the gang took their seats. “Are you expecting some other guests?”
Suddenly suspicious about the count’s guests, Little John’s eyes darted from one end of the room to the other. “I do not like this,” he said, noting the dozens of windows along the south wall and the two doors that might be used as escape routes. There were worse places to be trapped.
“It’s alright, John,” Robin assured the older man. “Sit down.”
“Indeed. Our friends will be here momentarily,” the count replied as his servants began plating generous amounts of ham and eggs for everyone.
“A little more help on this mission would be nice,” Much said. He took a whiff of the steaming food on his plate and sighed then threw a wink Allan’s way. “Definitely better than squirrel,” he said, drawing a hearty laugh from his friends.
“So what’s this change of plans?” Allan asked.
“We shall talk of that after breakfast. Lighter conversation during a meal is so much more pleasant than talk of work, no? Please, eat,” the count said. His eyes swept from one man to the next then finally settled on Little John. “Queen Eleanor indicated you had a fine visit at Fontevrault.”
John nearly choked on his first mouthful of eggs. He blushed a shade of deep red that rivaled the color of the drapes on the windows.
“Are you alright, John?” Robin asked, pounding the big man on the back.
Nodding, John threw an evil look at Allan who couldn’t help but chuckle. Carter pressed his leg against Much’s beneath the table and both men exchanged glances with Robin who hid a grin behind his hand. Count Friedrich pinched his brows quite aware of the nonverbal signals around his table, shook his head, and smiled.
The double doors into the dining room suddenly flew open. “Ah! My other guests!” the count exclaimed as all eyes in the room turned.
Will and Djaq stood in the doorway. “Visiting the Queen without us?” Djaq asked.
Little John, Allan, Much and Carter jumped from their seats. After an initial round of hugs that lasted far too long in the eyes of the servants who watched the food grow cold, the gang-the whole gang-sat down together for the first time since Marian’s death. Djaq squeezed Robin’s hand well aware of that. Much knew it, too, and reached across the table to lay his hand atop theirs.
Count Friedrich found the camaraderie a wonderful change of pace from the social gatherings he usually attended. He hadn’t heard so much laughter and warm conversation in years.
After breakfast the gang huddled over maps in the count’s study. Morning gave way to afternoon. Servants appeared with lunch and then with afternoon tea. There were debates about their options for rescuing the king. They could either spring him from Trifels, a castle some twelve kilometers to the west where he was imprisoned, or make their move while he held court in Speyer. There would be more guards in Speyer, soldiers serving the Holy Roman Emperor. Word would get out quickly from there, too, and they’d be sure to run into more soldiers along their escape route. On the other hand, Count Friedrich knew Trifels Castle. He’d spent nearly as much time there while growing up as he did in his own home. He knew the layout, knew its secret entrances and passageways intimately. Its location in a more mountainous and forest-covered region translated to more places to hide.
Shadows crept across the room and the sun had long slipped beyond the mountains when a decision was finally reached and the details of the mission sketched out. The gang would have one more day to relax and enjoy Count Friedrich’s hospitality and then they’d be on their way-to rescue the king and whisk him back to England, to home.
>->------------>>
“Something’s changed, Robin,” Djaq told the archer. Dinner was over and the gang had scattered. John, Allan, and Will were enjoying the count’s gaming tables. Carter and Much were exploring the gardens, while Djaq and Robin rested by the huge, ornate marble fireplace in the sitting room.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s Much,” she replied, a smile lighting her dark eyes. “He’s different. More confident.”
Robin chuckled. “He’s in love.”
“I can see that as plain as day,” she laughed. “But he always loved you.”
Robin shook his head, clearly irritated with himself. “And I made him miserable. I threw his feelings aside without even thinking. Sure I could make love to him, make him feel like his heart might burst…but I was never in love with him. It took me far too long to understand how much I was hurting him.”
“I thought you might have seen it that night we did kalila and dimna.”
“What do they say…I didn’t read between the lines. But you knew even then?”
“Of course,” she replied.
“Deaf and blind,” he sighed.
“And now? Are you alright with what he’s found with Carter?”
“How could I ever deny him that?” Robin looked away for a moment. “Why didn’t Much stay behind to be with Carter in the Holy Land?”
“Carter made him leave. He knew you needed Much at that time more than he did.”
“I am a lucky man in some ways, Djaq.”
“I think so, too.” Djaq smiled, leaned close, and planted a kiss on Robin’s cheek. “Goodnight, Robin.”
“Goodnight, Djaq.” The archer watched his wise Saracen friend leave then stared into the fire. This mission still weighed heavily on his mind. Could he get them all back home in one piece? Would he ever be able to forgive himself if anything happened to any one of them.
“Robin?” Much stood in the doorway.
Robin sat up and smiled at his former manservant. “Much.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“What else?” Robin chuckled. “The mission. The gang.”
“Me, too,” Much said softly. “Look, Robin-“ he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I know you don’t like to talk about what we went through in the Holy Land, the horrors we saw, but there’s something I just have to say.” He paused and looked for a sign that Robin was going to protest but the archer just looked at him, the firelight picking up a glint in his green eyes.
“Alright then,” Much continued, “do you remember the march from Acre to Jaffa? Well, of course you do. You were riding with the Templars fending off attacks with the rear guard. The King would charge toward them and I’d see you on your horse following him. There was the god-awful, incessant noise from the enemy. Every time I heard those trumpets and the beat of the drums I feared I’d never see you again.” Much trembled. “I’m glad I didn’t know Carter…love Carter…back then. Bad enough I have to worry about him and you now.”
“Much, I-“
“Let me finish,” Much said as he sat down. Flames danced across the logs in the fire and he couldn’t take his eyes from them, almost afraid that he wouldn’t be able to keep talking if he looked at his old friend. “Here we are getting ready to go on this insane mission in a strange land with a strange language that most of us don’t understand. Breaking into this castle-it’s one thing when it’s Nottingham and we know all the ins and out. But now we only have Count Friedrich’s plans, which I’m sure are good, of course, but it’s so easy to get lost in a strange place.”
A bemused expression filled Robin’s face. “What are you trying to say, Much?”
“I’m trying to tell you that I’m worried. Really worried. And scared.” Much finally found the courage to meet Robin’s eyes. “I love Carter. I love you. I don’t want to lose either of you. If something should happen…I just want you to know that I might love you a bit differently but I still love you. And I want you to be with me…with me and Carter tonight.”
Tears streaked down Robin’s face. Much’s strong arms pulled him close and he thumbed away Robin’s tears, brushed his lips lightly. Grasping Robin’s hand, the outlaw shepherded him from the sitting room and toward the stairs.
Carter was waiting for them in the bedchamber, standing by the blazing fire. Much led Robin across the room. He undressed the archer slowly and deliberately, and trailed kisses along every muscle and scar, his ache growing as Robin shivered against his touch.
Watching Much’s calloused palms on the archer, Carter’s heart pounded. He reached for Much, running his fingers through the outlaw’s blond curls and then pulled him close, enclosing the outlaw’s mouth with his own. Robin pressed against his bare flesh, and he moaned as the archer’s hands ventured lower to work loose the laces of his breeches.
Robin twined his fingers through Carter’s hand then guided it below Much’s waist, both men caressing their lover gently. Moaning against them deeply, Much’s breath caught in his throat. He closed his eyes against the fire rippling through his body, his knees weak from the sounds of Carter and Robin sharing a long, bruising kiss. Then Carter shifted, grinding against him from behind as Robin slid to his knees. Suddenly Much found that hands were replaced by something warm and wet and greedy stroking his hot flesh.
Tonight…at least tonight…they could be lost in these tender and passionate moments, safely harbored from tomorrow’s nightmares.
>->------------>>
Chapter 5
Rating: M
Word Count: 2130
Warnings/Genre: angst, slash
Characters/Pairings: Much/Carter, Robin/Much/Carter, Allan, John, Count Friedrich, Will, Djaq
Copyright: BBC & TA own; I just want to play in their universe
Summary: a post series 2 AU tale of DeNile. The gang's mission: rescue King Richard from his captors in Bavaria.
With lots of hugs to thestorymaker and darkentwisted for their encouraging words...
Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3
>->------------>>
Chapter 4
“C’mon, lads,” Robin shouted as he knocked on the gang’s chamber doors. “The count is waiting for us.”
“Alright, alright,” Allan said as he poked his head into the hallway. “Let me get my boots. What’s the rush? Not bein’ funny, but the King ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
“Actually yes, he is,” Robin told the poacher.
John appeared from the far end of the corridor. “What?” he asked. He was dressed in the monk’s habit, his quarterstaff at his side. He glanced at Robin then at Allan who was leaning against the frame of the bedroom door struggling to plant a foot firmly in one boot. “Am I overdressed?”
“You’re fine, John,” Robin said as he pounded on the door to Carter’s room. “Carter! Much! Let’s go. Breakfast is waiting for us.” He threw a wink at his friends. “Something else, too.”
“Somethin’ else?” Allan asked.
“Robin, what do you mean--about the King?”
“No worries, John. Might mean a slight change of plans.”
“If that means an easier rescue I’m all for it,” Allan said as Much slipped into the hallway.
“Good morning, Much. Sleep well?” Robin’s face was lit with a cocky grin. He looked past Much into the bedchamber. “Where’s Carter?”
John sighed and shook his head but Allan refused to let the moment pass. “Wore him out I bet, didn’t you?” he asked, his blue eyes sparkling.
Neither a smile nor a jealous passed Much’s lips. Not even a shut up, Allan. “He’ll be out in a minute,” Much replied without taking the bait.
Robin eyed his old friend, his grin replaced with concern as his hand landed on Much’s shoulder. “Everything alright?”
“Fine,” Much replied with a grateful squeeze to Robin’s hand. “Go on ahead. We’ll catch up.”
“We can wait,” Robin insisted.
Carter appeared at the door. “Sorry,” he said, purposefully ignoring eye contact with everyone but Much.
The others may not have noticed but Robin didn’t miss the pain in Carter’s eyes. “Let’s go,” he said.
“Ah…there you are!” Count Friedrich exclaimed from the top of the stairway. “Come. My kitchen staff is not pleased when they have worked so hard to prepare a hearty meal that goes cold. I may not hear the end of it.”
“We wouldn’t want the food to get cold, right, Much?” Allan said. “Don’t suppose the cooks do squirrel, eh, your countship?”
“Squirrel?” the count grimaced.
Little John playfully slapped Allan’s shoulder, shoving him toward the stairwell. “Just ignore Allan, my lord,” John told the count. “Too much time in the forest.”
Friedrich eyes narrowed and he tipped his head in understanding. “Ah, of course,” he said. He waved his hand with a flourish. “This way, gentlemen.”
Robin looked worriedly from Carter to Much. It was bad enough that Carter’s usual spark-smug though it could be at times-had dimmed. But it was so unlike his former manservant to ignore Allan’s taunts. Much did manage a soft smile as Carter’s fingers twined through his. That little gesture sent a spark of envy through Robin. The archer pushed back the lump in his throat as he got in step behind the lads to follow the count down the stairs toward the dining room.
Allan pointed at the two extra place settings at the dining table as the gang took their seats. “Are you expecting some other guests?”
Suddenly suspicious about the count’s guests, Little John’s eyes darted from one end of the room to the other. “I do not like this,” he said, noting the dozens of windows along the south wall and the two doors that might be used as escape routes. There were worse places to be trapped.
“It’s alright, John,” Robin assured the older man. “Sit down.”
“Indeed. Our friends will be here momentarily,” the count replied as his servants began plating generous amounts of ham and eggs for everyone.
“A little more help on this mission would be nice,” Much said. He took a whiff of the steaming food on his plate and sighed then threw a wink Allan’s way. “Definitely better than squirrel,” he said, drawing a hearty laugh from his friends.
“So what’s this change of plans?” Allan asked.
“We shall talk of that after breakfast. Lighter conversation during a meal is so much more pleasant than talk of work, no? Please, eat,” the count said. His eyes swept from one man to the next then finally settled on Little John. “Queen Eleanor indicated you had a fine visit at Fontevrault.”
John nearly choked on his first mouthful of eggs. He blushed a shade of deep red that rivaled the color of the drapes on the windows.
“Are you alright, John?” Robin asked, pounding the big man on the back.
Nodding, John threw an evil look at Allan who couldn’t help but chuckle. Carter pressed his leg against Much’s beneath the table and both men exchanged glances with Robin who hid a grin behind his hand. Count Friedrich pinched his brows quite aware of the nonverbal signals around his table, shook his head, and smiled.
The double doors into the dining room suddenly flew open. “Ah! My other guests!” the count exclaimed as all eyes in the room turned.
Will and Djaq stood in the doorway. “Visiting the Queen without us?” Djaq asked.
Little John, Allan, Much and Carter jumped from their seats. After an initial round of hugs that lasted far too long in the eyes of the servants who watched the food grow cold, the gang-the whole gang-sat down together for the first time since Marian’s death. Djaq squeezed Robin’s hand well aware of that. Much knew it, too, and reached across the table to lay his hand atop theirs.
Count Friedrich found the camaraderie a wonderful change of pace from the social gatherings he usually attended. He hadn’t heard so much laughter and warm conversation in years.
After breakfast the gang huddled over maps in the count’s study. Morning gave way to afternoon. Servants appeared with lunch and then with afternoon tea. There were debates about their options for rescuing the king. They could either spring him from Trifels, a castle some twelve kilometers to the west where he was imprisoned, or make their move while he held court in Speyer. There would be more guards in Speyer, soldiers serving the Holy Roman Emperor. Word would get out quickly from there, too, and they’d be sure to run into more soldiers along their escape route. On the other hand, Count Friedrich knew Trifels Castle. He’d spent nearly as much time there while growing up as he did in his own home. He knew the layout, knew its secret entrances and passageways intimately. Its location in a more mountainous and forest-covered region translated to more places to hide.
Shadows crept across the room and the sun had long slipped beyond the mountains when a decision was finally reached and the details of the mission sketched out. The gang would have one more day to relax and enjoy Count Friedrich’s hospitality and then they’d be on their way-to rescue the king and whisk him back to England, to home.
>->------------>>
“Something’s changed, Robin,” Djaq told the archer. Dinner was over and the gang had scattered. John, Allan, and Will were enjoying the count’s gaming tables. Carter and Much were exploring the gardens, while Djaq and Robin rested by the huge, ornate marble fireplace in the sitting room.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s Much,” she replied, a smile lighting her dark eyes. “He’s different. More confident.”
Robin chuckled. “He’s in love.”
“I can see that as plain as day,” she laughed. “But he always loved you.”
Robin shook his head, clearly irritated with himself. “And I made him miserable. I threw his feelings aside without even thinking. Sure I could make love to him, make him feel like his heart might burst…but I was never in love with him. It took me far too long to understand how much I was hurting him.”
“I thought you might have seen it that night we did kalila and dimna.”
“What do they say…I didn’t read between the lines. But you knew even then?”
“Of course,” she replied.
“Deaf and blind,” he sighed.
“And now? Are you alright with what he’s found with Carter?”
“How could I ever deny him that?” Robin looked away for a moment. “Why didn’t Much stay behind to be with Carter in the Holy Land?”
“Carter made him leave. He knew you needed Much at that time more than he did.”
“I am a lucky man in some ways, Djaq.”
“I think so, too.” Djaq smiled, leaned close, and planted a kiss on Robin’s cheek. “Goodnight, Robin.”
“Goodnight, Djaq.” The archer watched his wise Saracen friend leave then stared into the fire. This mission still weighed heavily on his mind. Could he get them all back home in one piece? Would he ever be able to forgive himself if anything happened to any one of them.
“Robin?” Much stood in the doorway.
Robin sat up and smiled at his former manservant. “Much.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“What else?” Robin chuckled. “The mission. The gang.”
“Me, too,” Much said softly. “Look, Robin-“ he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I know you don’t like to talk about what we went through in the Holy Land, the horrors we saw, but there’s something I just have to say.” He paused and looked for a sign that Robin was going to protest but the archer just looked at him, the firelight picking up a glint in his green eyes.
“Alright then,” Much continued, “do you remember the march from Acre to Jaffa? Well, of course you do. You were riding with the Templars fending off attacks with the rear guard. The King would charge toward them and I’d see you on your horse following him. There was the god-awful, incessant noise from the enemy. Every time I heard those trumpets and the beat of the drums I feared I’d never see you again.” Much trembled. “I’m glad I didn’t know Carter…love Carter…back then. Bad enough I have to worry about him and you now.”
“Much, I-“
“Let me finish,” Much said as he sat down. Flames danced across the logs in the fire and he couldn’t take his eyes from them, almost afraid that he wouldn’t be able to keep talking if he looked at his old friend. “Here we are getting ready to go on this insane mission in a strange land with a strange language that most of us don’t understand. Breaking into this castle-it’s one thing when it’s Nottingham and we know all the ins and out. But now we only have Count Friedrich’s plans, which I’m sure are good, of course, but it’s so easy to get lost in a strange place.”
A bemused expression filled Robin’s face. “What are you trying to say, Much?”
“I’m trying to tell you that I’m worried. Really worried. And scared.” Much finally found the courage to meet Robin’s eyes. “I love Carter. I love you. I don’t want to lose either of you. If something should happen…I just want you to know that I might love you a bit differently but I still love you. And I want you to be with me…with me and Carter tonight.”
Tears streaked down Robin’s face. Much’s strong arms pulled him close and he thumbed away Robin’s tears, brushed his lips lightly. Grasping Robin’s hand, the outlaw shepherded him from the sitting room and toward the stairs.
Carter was waiting for them in the bedchamber, standing by the blazing fire. Much led Robin across the room. He undressed the archer slowly and deliberately, and trailed kisses along every muscle and scar, his ache growing as Robin shivered against his touch.
Watching Much’s calloused palms on the archer, Carter’s heart pounded. He reached for Much, running his fingers through the outlaw’s blond curls and then pulled him close, enclosing the outlaw’s mouth with his own. Robin pressed against his bare flesh, and he moaned as the archer’s hands ventured lower to work loose the laces of his breeches.
Robin twined his fingers through Carter’s hand then guided it below Much’s waist, both men caressing their lover gently. Moaning against them deeply, Much’s breath caught in his throat. He closed his eyes against the fire rippling through his body, his knees weak from the sounds of Carter and Robin sharing a long, bruising kiss. Then Carter shifted, grinding against him from behind as Robin slid to his knees. Suddenly Much found that hands were replaced by something warm and wet and greedy stroking his hot flesh.
Tonight…at least tonight…they could be lost in these tender and passionate moments, safely harbored from tomorrow’s nightmares.
>->------------>>
Chapter 5