Fic: The Gift
Um, not sure it's alright to post this here. If not, let me know please!
This is a quick one-shot, written as a combined birthday present for robinfanatic and omteddy2006.
Title: The Gift
Author: roh_wyn
Characters: Much, Allan, Little John (mentions Robin, Tuck and Kate)
Rating: G
Words: 627
Summary: Birthdays are nice...
"So it's Robin's birthday tomorrow, you know," Much said, to nobody in particular. "We should do something. A surprise!"
John gripped his quarterstaff tightly and grumbled. "Oh, no. The last time we did something for Robin's birthday, we ended up stuck in a barn. And surprised by mercenaries."
Much bristled. "That wasn't my fault. How was I supposed to know we-"
Kate and Tuck watched the two men argue in confusion, but Allan just chuckled.
"You!" John silenced Allan with a pointed finger. "Don't laugh. You didn't show up until it was all over. You don't know how bad it was."
Allan nodded, looking contrite. "Listen, Much. I don't even think Robin wants to celebrate, yeah? With everything the way it is…"
Much shrugged. "I just thought it would be nice. Birthdays are nice…they make people happy, help them forget."
John sighed and Much gave up the argument. Silence descended on the camp as night fell heavily outside.
--
Allan pasted himself to the wall and waited until the footsteps had passed and his path was clear. He slunk into the narrow passage and ducked through a low door, hoping he would find what he was looking for.
Just as he expected, he was greeted by the sight of Ruth, the scullery maid. But rather than the welcoming smile he'd hoped for, she was wearing a dirty apron and waving a ladle at his head.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Allan tried to look contrite. "Just thought I'd see if there was anything worth my while."
Ruth raised an eyebrow. "Not for the likes o' you, there ain't."
"Aw, c'mon, Ruthie. Can't you let me have a little somethin'? For old times' sake?"
The look on her face told Allan she was not convinced, but at length, she relented. "Fine. But just this once. Don't be coming back here, asking after me again. I've had enough of you."
He smirked and kissed her quickly on the cheek. "Ah, you'll never have enough of me, lass."
--
Much skewered a parsnip with his knife, still upset about the reaction to his idea for Robin's birthday. It was true that he had unwittingly led them into a trap last time. But this time would have been different. It wasn't as if he was taking them to a barn in Nettlestone, after all.
The mood in the camp had been somber, everyone on edge all the time. All he'd really wanted was to add a bit of cheer, and Robin's birthday had seemed like the perfect occasion. He grumbled and hacked at an onion, letting the bulb feel his wrath. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered with birthdays and special meals and all that. It wasn't like anyone ever did anything for him! Much huffed angrily, and was about to attack a carrot when he heard the camp door swing open.
Allan sauntered in and dropped a dirty sack at his feet.
Much shoved at it with his foot. "What's this then?" A thought came to him, and he brandished a knife at Allan. "Listen, you. I'm not washing your shirts again. It was just that one time, because I lost that wager about-"
"Oi, calm down, Much. Just look inside, will you?"
Much frowned in suspicion, but his curiosity got the better of him. He picked up the sack and sniffed it experimentally. Aha! This was definitely not Allan's dirty laundry. Much put a hand into the sack and pulled out a whole chicken, two loaves of fresh bread and a wheel of cheese.
He beamed at Allan, who chuckled. "Happy birthday, mate."
"It's not my birthday."
"I know, but maybe it should be. You said yourself…birthdays are nice. They make people happy."
--
This is a quick one-shot, written as a combined birthday present for robinfanatic and omteddy2006.
Title: The Gift
Author: roh_wyn
Characters: Much, Allan, Little John (mentions Robin, Tuck and Kate)
Rating: G
Words: 627
Summary: Birthdays are nice...
"So it's Robin's birthday tomorrow, you know," Much said, to nobody in particular. "We should do something. A surprise!"
John gripped his quarterstaff tightly and grumbled. "Oh, no. The last time we did something for Robin's birthday, we ended up stuck in a barn. And surprised by mercenaries."
Much bristled. "That wasn't my fault. How was I supposed to know we-"
Kate and Tuck watched the two men argue in confusion, but Allan just chuckled.
"You!" John silenced Allan with a pointed finger. "Don't laugh. You didn't show up until it was all over. You don't know how bad it was."
Allan nodded, looking contrite. "Listen, Much. I don't even think Robin wants to celebrate, yeah? With everything the way it is…"
Much shrugged. "I just thought it would be nice. Birthdays are nice…they make people happy, help them forget."
John sighed and Much gave up the argument. Silence descended on the camp as night fell heavily outside.
--
Allan pasted himself to the wall and waited until the footsteps had passed and his path was clear. He slunk into the narrow passage and ducked through a low door, hoping he would find what he was looking for.
Just as he expected, he was greeted by the sight of Ruth, the scullery maid. But rather than the welcoming smile he'd hoped for, she was wearing a dirty apron and waving a ladle at his head.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Allan tried to look contrite. "Just thought I'd see if there was anything worth my while."
Ruth raised an eyebrow. "Not for the likes o' you, there ain't."
"Aw, c'mon, Ruthie. Can't you let me have a little somethin'? For old times' sake?"
The look on her face told Allan she was not convinced, but at length, she relented. "Fine. But just this once. Don't be coming back here, asking after me again. I've had enough of you."
He smirked and kissed her quickly on the cheek. "Ah, you'll never have enough of me, lass."
--
Much skewered a parsnip with his knife, still upset about the reaction to his idea for Robin's birthday. It was true that he had unwittingly led them into a trap last time. But this time would have been different. It wasn't as if he was taking them to a barn in Nettlestone, after all.
The mood in the camp had been somber, everyone on edge all the time. All he'd really wanted was to add a bit of cheer, and Robin's birthday had seemed like the perfect occasion. He grumbled and hacked at an onion, letting the bulb feel his wrath. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered with birthdays and special meals and all that. It wasn't like anyone ever did anything for him! Much huffed angrily, and was about to attack a carrot when he heard the camp door swing open.
Allan sauntered in and dropped a dirty sack at his feet.
Much shoved at it with his foot. "What's this then?" A thought came to him, and he brandished a knife at Allan. "Listen, you. I'm not washing your shirts again. It was just that one time, because I lost that wager about-"
"Oi, calm down, Much. Just look inside, will you?"
Much frowned in suspicion, but his curiosity got the better of him. He picked up the sack and sniffed it experimentally. Aha! This was definitely not Allan's dirty laundry. Much put a hand into the sack and pulled out a whole chicken, two loaves of fresh bread and a wheel of cheese.
He beamed at Allan, who chuckled. "Happy birthday, mate."
"It's not my birthday."
"I know, but maybe it should be. You said yourself…birthdays are nice. They make people happy."
--