Fic: To the end, unchanged
Author: jazzfic
Title: To the end, unchanged
My challenge: Write a fic about Much set during (or somehow based on the events of) 2x10 'Walkabout'.
Rating: G
Notes: This is about Much looking back to when Robin announced his engagement. Slightly AU, set at a short point in the future.
Competition: Yes
---
In the time that followed, he would come to closely remember that moment upon the hillside, not just by what was said, but how they had seemed so alone. Just the two of them, and while Much had made a remark to loosely include the others, it had been flippant and rather weak, only strengthening the strange absurdity which managed to come over him when given even the faintest hint of Robin's affection.
This, of course, left him exposed. He knew that. But he had reached the point where he simply didn't care. If this exchange had taken place in the surrounds of camp, Much was well aware that whatever agreement, whatever the acceptance was between them, it would have been lost in communal praise and laughter. Robin alone, he'd felt, even ignorant, even teasing, was better than nothing. Much was used to nothing...but the implications of it tended to leave him seeking out company where another man might dismiss it; simply put, he would leap at the chance to serve, if it confirmed, in some way, that he was needed.
Back then, this had all seemed so straightforward, so easy. He had been blessed with a remarkable optimism, and never failed to make use of it.
How quickly things change. It struck Much that the peak of Robin's happiness had been felt most powerfully in two separate moments: the telling of it, and on the day, nearly a whole year later, when he'd kissed Lady Marian beneath the light that fell into Locksley's church, and murmured a promise in Latin to love her forever.
Much knew in his heart that it had all lead to this. He remembered feeling something of an oddness back then, with Robin confirming that he'd asked, and yes, had been accepted; and now the same feeling returned as he stood by his master in the church, hearing the final words spoken. It was a sense of bewilderment, of everything coming together at once--a resignation of his own life, the sudden imbalance of what was left, where he had to go.
And, it he was honest, it was the feeling of wanting something so badly, only to have it taken away, replaced with the same uncertainty that had seen Much pull his master into an embrace on the Nottingham hillside.
"She said yes? That's incredible."
He wasn't in control of his words that day; they came from an intention that he couldn't control, a place where the only way to say I love you was to pick a declaration at random, and hope that it served its purpose. Robin, he knew from experience, would either see it immediately, or not at all.
They had barely pulled apart when Robin smiled thinly, and said, "If we live to enjoy it."
The Sheriff was missing; Marian was defending the castle from an unjust onslaught. It was quite obvious that Robin had bigger things to worry him, so the conversation had ended there. Much stayed back a few paces, chatting, as they walked, about things of little consequence, hoping that Robin wouldn't look back and see his eyes. He couldn't keep away the feeling that this was both the beginning and the end, and now everything would be different, and he realised, quite suddenly, that his hesitation hadn't mattered; he could have said nothing, because Robin was no longer listening.
Now he stood alone, outside the church, watching the carriage being loaded and the horses made ready to leave. Everyone seemed so impatient to leave. Everyone but him.
"Thank you, Much."
A hand touched his arm, and he turned quickly. Not entirely sure what he had done to be thanked, Much could only nod, and say, "Robin deserves this. He is happy, my lady."
"He says England is getting better. Soon, it will be well again." As she spoke she watched him, concern and care in her eyes. Quite on impulse, Much sent a silent prayer that she would always be this Marian, that if he lived to see Robin's wish come to fruition, however many years that took, he could simply close his eyes and remember her just as she was now.
"I hope you are right," he said.
This made her smile. He tried to think of something else to add, some congratulatory aside that hadn't already been made, but he felt overwhelmed, and couldn't make the words come. As it happened, it didn't matter, as Robin was suddenly between them, all smiles and laughter, and Marian leant quickly into Much, kissing him on the cheek. Her lips were cold. They didn't say anything more.
Much watched them until they were out of sight. He felt heavy, as if there was a cloud all around him, making it hard to concentrate. And he was deeply tired. But if England is well, he thought, then Robin is, and so am I.
He let that sustain him as he rode from the church. He told himself he was glad that Robin's life had turned out this way. That day, upon the hill, Much had stared his master in the eye, and had him repeat the words. She said yes? What he would have done if she hadn't was a mystery to Much; it was his fear surfacing again, the one that told him that the most painful decisions in life weren't his to make. The simple fact was that Robin loved Marian, Much loved his master, and that was that. Whatever pain it gave him, Robin must never know. This was love in straight lines, shot to the quick, cut into thin air like an arrow.
She did.
Of course she said yes. No other outcome would ever be imagined, and none would hurt him more. Much could no more resent the happiness of his dear friend than speculate on the future; how impossible it was to remain as they were, to the end, unchanged.
He believed he had known this all his life.
Title: To the end, unchanged
My challenge: Write a fic about Much set during (or somehow based on the events of) 2x10 'Walkabout'.
Rating: G
Notes: This is about Much looking back to when Robin announced his engagement. Slightly AU, set at a short point in the future.
Competition: Yes
---
In the time that followed, he would come to closely remember that moment upon the hillside, not just by what was said, but how they had seemed so alone. Just the two of them, and while Much had made a remark to loosely include the others, it had been flippant and rather weak, only strengthening the strange absurdity which managed to come over him when given even the faintest hint of Robin's affection.
This, of course, left him exposed. He knew that. But he had reached the point where he simply didn't care. If this exchange had taken place in the surrounds of camp, Much was well aware that whatever agreement, whatever the acceptance was between them, it would have been lost in communal praise and laughter. Robin alone, he'd felt, even ignorant, even teasing, was better than nothing. Much was used to nothing...but the implications of it tended to leave him seeking out company where another man might dismiss it; simply put, he would leap at the chance to serve, if it confirmed, in some way, that he was needed.
Back then, this had all seemed so straightforward, so easy. He had been blessed with a remarkable optimism, and never failed to make use of it.
How quickly things change. It struck Much that the peak of Robin's happiness had been felt most powerfully in two separate moments: the telling of it, and on the day, nearly a whole year later, when he'd kissed Lady Marian beneath the light that fell into Locksley's church, and murmured a promise in Latin to love her forever.
Much knew in his heart that it had all lead to this. He remembered feeling something of an oddness back then, with Robin confirming that he'd asked, and yes, had been accepted; and now the same feeling returned as he stood by his master in the church, hearing the final words spoken. It was a sense of bewilderment, of everything coming together at once--a resignation of his own life, the sudden imbalance of what was left, where he had to go.
And, it he was honest, it was the feeling of wanting something so badly, only to have it taken away, replaced with the same uncertainty that had seen Much pull his master into an embrace on the Nottingham hillside.
"She said yes? That's incredible."
He wasn't in control of his words that day; they came from an intention that he couldn't control, a place where the only way to say I love you was to pick a declaration at random, and hope that it served its purpose. Robin, he knew from experience, would either see it immediately, or not at all.
They had barely pulled apart when Robin smiled thinly, and said, "If we live to enjoy it."
The Sheriff was missing; Marian was defending the castle from an unjust onslaught. It was quite obvious that Robin had bigger things to worry him, so the conversation had ended there. Much stayed back a few paces, chatting, as they walked, about things of little consequence, hoping that Robin wouldn't look back and see his eyes. He couldn't keep away the feeling that this was both the beginning and the end, and now everything would be different, and he realised, quite suddenly, that his hesitation hadn't mattered; he could have said nothing, because Robin was no longer listening.
Now he stood alone, outside the church, watching the carriage being loaded and the horses made ready to leave. Everyone seemed so impatient to leave. Everyone but him.
"Thank you, Much."
A hand touched his arm, and he turned quickly. Not entirely sure what he had done to be thanked, Much could only nod, and say, "Robin deserves this. He is happy, my lady."
"He says England is getting better. Soon, it will be well again." As she spoke she watched him, concern and care in her eyes. Quite on impulse, Much sent a silent prayer that she would always be this Marian, that if he lived to see Robin's wish come to fruition, however many years that took, he could simply close his eyes and remember her just as she was now.
"I hope you are right," he said.
This made her smile. He tried to think of something else to add, some congratulatory aside that hadn't already been made, but he felt overwhelmed, and couldn't make the words come. As it happened, it didn't matter, as Robin was suddenly between them, all smiles and laughter, and Marian leant quickly into Much, kissing him on the cheek. Her lips were cold. They didn't say anything more.
Much watched them until they were out of sight. He felt heavy, as if there was a cloud all around him, making it hard to concentrate. And he was deeply tired. But if England is well, he thought, then Robin is, and so am I.
He let that sustain him as he rode from the church. He told himself he was glad that Robin's life had turned out this way. That day, upon the hill, Much had stared his master in the eye, and had him repeat the words. She said yes? What he would have done if she hadn't was a mystery to Much; it was his fear surfacing again, the one that told him that the most painful decisions in life weren't his to make. The simple fact was that Robin loved Marian, Much loved his master, and that was that. Whatever pain it gave him, Robin must never know. This was love in straight lines, shot to the quick, cut into thin air like an arrow.
She did.
Of course she said yes. No other outcome would ever be imagined, and none would hurt him more. Much could no more resent the happiness of his dear friend than speculate on the future; how impossible it was to remain as they were, to the end, unchanged.
He believed he had known this all his life.