Denial, Ch. 35: Many Happy Returns
Title: Denial, Ch. 35: Many Happy Returns
Author: darkentwisted
Characters/Pairings: Much/Robin, Robin/Marian, Young!Robin/Young!Much Mentions: Carter, Thornton, Lord Malcolm
Rating: G (I must be slipping)
Genre: slash if you squint
Words: 1263
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; I just want to play in their universe
Notes: This continues the 'Round-Robin' fic 'Denial'.
Sanitized for your protection by robinfanatic & wastingyourgum
Summary: Robin remembers past birthdays on that fateful day in October.
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Previous Chapters: Summary of previous chapters...
Denial, Ch. 35: Many Happy Returns
by
darkentwisted
"It's just a birthday, Master. It's all right if you didn't remember it. You've been busy," Much said as he started the cooking fires.
"But it's your birthday. I wanted to get you something special." Robin lingered behind his friend with the usual upturned eyebrows of forgiveness.
"If it's all the same to you, I would rather just forget it." Much blinked back tears. It hurt him that Robin forgot his birthday again but he would never tell him.
"I will make up for it, my friend," Robin hugged his former manservant from behind. He already felt guilty for taking away Much's new found freedom and title to drag him deep into the forest he loathed and now he couldn't even remember the birthday of the man who had tended to him for so many years.
Later, by the campfire, he dropped the crudely wrapped parcel at the blond cook's feet. Much looked up to see his master smiling at him. "Many happy returns, Much."
"Master, you didn't have to..."
"I didn't." The outlaw leader shrugged, "I wanted to." He sat down beside his friend as he unwrapped the package. "It isn't much. I'm afraid I didn't..."
"Your father's waistcoat!" Much reverently exclaimed. He noticed his master had stopped wearing it but didn't question why.
"I had one of the laundresses at Locksley wash and mend it for you."
"Robin I can't..." Much stifled.
"You've always admired it," Robin reasoned. "I got tired of wearing it. It's yours." He watched happily as his former manservant put on his late father's vest and ran his hands down the slightly worn tapestry.
"How do I look?" Much asked excitedly.
"Better than I ever did in it," Robin exclaimed. He wasn't stretching the truth. The garment lay better on his friend's slightly stockier frame than it ever could on his wiry one. The print matched Much's light colouring. Robin smiled at the joy his simple act caused. "Wear it well my friend." The last time he saw the former servant, Much was still wearing it. The vest had become a second skin to him and the most prized of his meagre possessions.
Robin sighed at the memory. He wondered if Carter remembered his former servant's birthday. His mind drifted again, this time to Marian, before war and his king took him away from her.
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"A bow? But I have a bow...A good bow." Robin drew the longbow from over his shoulder.
"But this one is different," Marian reasoned. "Its a recurved bow, like the Saracens use." She studied the sceptical look on her suitor's face. "I had Luke make it for you."
Robin tested the string of the strange weapon, frowning at the way it didn't fit his well calloused thumb.
"You don't like it." Marian pulled away, the trembling in her voice betrayed the tears that were coming.
"No, I like it," Robin smiled reassuring the young maiden.
"It's like the one your father had... remember?"
Robin grinned at his boyish misdeeds. "I remember you got so mad at me for playing target practice with Much, you broke it."
"You almost put his eye out trying to shoot an apple off his head! I still can't believe he let you talk him into doing that!" Marian's cheeks glowed at the remembered anger but her voice softened. "I shouldn't have broken it, it was your father's and..."
"Now you replaced it," Robin smiled as his lips brushed the maiden's. "Thank you."
"Just promise me you won't point it at Much again," Marian warned.
"Only if he tries to sing," Robin teased.
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His finger ran down the bowstring at the memory. It had become his favourite possession, seeing him through war and now his time as an outlaw. He had other bows, better bows, but none fit his hand as this one did. Its sinuous string had become over time as familiar as the touch of the woman who gave it to him.
Another birthday came to mind, not a particularly pleasant one but one to remember. Again his thoughts wandered to Much and the first day they met.
It was his first birthday without father. Robin curled up in a ball in the large bed and wished the world would forget. He tried to sleep the day away but suddenly the room brightened noisily.
"There, that's better!"
"I'm trying to sleep if you don't mind!" Robin threw back the covers and paused at the sight of the servant before him.
"Nonsense, Master. Its mid-day and time for your lessons!"
The young man was hardly more than a couple of years older than Robin himself. Dirty blond hair was untidily tucked under a silly cap and the young peasant's impossibly pale, blue eyes examined him intently. Scrawny, gangly knees trembled slightly and it had nothing to do with the chill in the air. He could tell the young servant was scared, but not of him. Robin was sure Thornton was behind the servant's barely hidden panic if young master was not at his studies soon.
"And you are?" Robin shot with a haughty tone.
"Much."
"You don't seem like much," Robin snorted.
"That's my name. I am Much and I am your new... your new manservant."
"I don't need a manservant!" Robin pouted. "Go away!" He threw the blankets over his head.
Much frowned at his new master's cheekiness. Knowing it would probably buy him a good thrashing, he picked up the washbasin and emptied its contents on the young lord.
"What!!!" Robin sputtered, his green eyes flashing. "I'll have you hanged for this! I'll have you thrown out of Locksley! I'll have you...." He broke into sobs.
"No, no I'm sorry!" Much climbed into bed next to the soaked and crying young lord. "I didn't mean to make you cry. Please don't send me away, Master. I'll be out on the streets of Nottingham again." He shivered as he looked out the window at the crisp October day. "It's so cold out there."
The look of genuine terror caused the young lord to back down. "I'm not mad at you." Robin rubbed his eyes. "I miss my father. He would always come up and wish me a happy birthday."
"Today's your birthday?"
Robin nodded. "No one remembered it."
"No one remembers my birthday either," Much sighed. "I have almost forgotten it myself."
"Don't you have a father and mother?"
The young servant shook his head sadly. "They died years ago."
"Do you miss them?" Robin blinked back tears.
"Sometimes," Much whispered. "Especially around birthdays."
"I miss father, especially today." Robin welcomed the arm around his shoulder as the new, blond servant hugged him.
"We can remember each other's birthdays from now on, Master," Robin's new servant reasoned with a funny nod that made the sodden lord giggle.
"That is assuming you have any more if you dump water on me again!" Robin playfully threatened.
"Then best get up when I wake you. Wouldn't want my death on your hands," Much grinned. "Come on! I'm hungry and your breakfast is getting cold."
>>>------------------------------------>
The noise from the centre of camp stirred him from his memories. Legrand gathered the others in the clearing then turned to him.
"Trouble...in Nettlestone! We must go there...quickly!"
"What kind of trouble, Legrand?"
"Best to go see for yourself, mon ami."
The gang took off. Robin glanced around once more at the camp he wouldn't see again for over a year but didn't know it yet. "So much for happy returns."
Is it a good day to die? Find out here.