(Untitled)

[millers_son]

Who: Robin and Much
What: A heart-to-heart
Where: A cave near Wadlow
When: January 1st (backdated due to my extreme laziness)

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[robin_hood49]

Robin hated the distance that had been looming between himself and Much. He hated the reason for it, hated that Much was letting it happen.

Hated himself for causing it, and more for not being able to fix it.

Until now, he had been able to arrange it so that they were never alone together. It had surprised him when Much offered to go with him on the deliveries today, and he could think of no acceptable reason to turn him down. Then, of course, the snow had kicked up, and now they were stuck in a cave-- not helping Robin's mood-- and Much was pacing and prattling on. Worse, he was prattling about an incident Robin would really rather leave forgotten.

From where he was leaning against the cave wall, staring outside and willing summer to come to Nottingham now, right now, Robin scowled. "We're not going to die, Much," he snapped, his mood turning even fouler now that he had likely made their situation even worse.

[millers_son]

Much flinched inwardly at the harshness in Robin's voice. "Of course not. I know that." Actually, he wasn't so sure they wouldn't freeze or starve to death, but it was probably best to keep his doubts to himself. Before he could stop himself, however, he blurted out, "But if we do..."

Hesitantly, he stopped pacing and moved to stand next to Robin. "But if we do," he continued, "I don't want it to be like this. I mean, I don't want this to still be between us. Please, can't we talk?"

He couldn't die with Robin still angry at him. Of course, Much's words would probably make him even angrier, but he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he didn't try.

[robin_hood49]

At the suggestion that they might die, a typical overreaction from Much, Robin could not suppress an eye roll-- not that he was of a mind to try. Arms still crossed over his chest, he trained his gaze on the entrance to the cave as Much approached him.

While he was no more concerned for their lives than on any other day, the combination of the hurt in Much's voice and the opportunity to at least patch up this thing between them made his anger begin to diffuse. All the same, discussion of the Holy Land was not high on the list of things he was willing to deal with just then. "I do not like it any more than you do." His voice still carried a degree of frustration, but was not as heated as it had been a moment earlier. With a shrug, he said, "So, talk."

[millers_son]

"Er..." Much had longed to give voice to the burdens weighing on his heart and mind since the return to England, but now that Robin was asking him to do just that, he found himself struggling to begin. Desperately, he looked around and blurted out, "Have I mentioned that I don't like caves? Especially not this cave. It looks too much like that cave. Except that we’re surrounded by snow, and back then it was Saracens - oh, I guess I said that already."

Outnumbered a dozen to two…panic seized him and he couldn’t move…until one of them advanced on Robin and prepared to strike, his sword gleaming with near-blinding brightness as they emerged into the daylight…a surge of hot anger, his blade slicing through the enemy’s flesh almost of its own accord…“I don’t know what came over me!” he shouted, as if his voice would drown out the sounds of his memories. “I just knew we were going to die, but I had to protect you if I could, and then the next thing I knew, I was…and they were…oh, God, their faces