Denial II, ch. 11: Forgive Us Our Sins
Title: Denial II, Chapter 11: Forgive Us Our Sins
Author: robinfanatic
Characters/Pairings: Allan, Djaq, Robin, Little John, Much/Carter
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama, Angst
Words: 2162
Warnings: hint of slash
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe
Notes: Beta'd by teamlavender; takes place after 2x13 but prior to 3x01
Introduction and previous chapter links for DII are here...
Summary: Robin, Much, and Little John say their good-byes to Allan as they prepare to leave Acre.
>>-------------------->
Chapter 11: Forgive Us Our Sins
Sunlight brightened the room where Allan lay in fitful sleep. His condition only intensified the storms tormenting Robin's thoughts. Sitting at Allan's bedside, his hands were tightly clenched, fingernails digging into his skin. Much's taunts haunted him.
There was a time I would have died for you, Robin. Now I wonder how many more people have to.
"Don't die on me, my friend," Robin murmured to Allan. "I know you were there for Marian. The others - they will need a loyal friend like you beside them. You are a good man, Allan A Dale. Marian knew that. I only wish I had believed it sooner." Robin wondered if he'd be haunted by his own words for the rest of his days.
Djaq paused by the door, not meaning to eavesdrop. She watched Robin gently press a cool cloth to Allan's face.
"Allan is listening to you, Robin," she said as she walked into the room. She laid a hand on Robin's shoulder and then glanced down at her patient.
Robin realized that Djaq, more than anyone, might understand how he felt, how deep his hurt ran. She'd lost her own family during the siege. And Will could easily have been lost to the desert.
"He's been tossing and turning, restless," Robin told her. "He keeps calling out for Marian."
"Allan spent a lot of time with her. He was the only friend she had while the sheriff kept her prisoner."
Robin smothered his anger. He would deal with Vaizey soon but he needed to think of Allan now in these last few hours before the gang began the long journey back to England. Who knew if Allan would survive, if their paths would cross again on this earth. "Marian trusted him. Cared for him. When none of the rest of us believed him. And there is nothing that will bring her back or let me erase the way we - the way I treated him."
"He knows, Robin."
Robin pointed toward the chest where he'd laid his scimitar. "I'm leaving my sword for him. Tell him to look upon it and know that he will always be a part of my gang." Robin's eyes met Djaq's. "He is going to be all right, isn't he?"
Despite Djaq's treatments, Allan's wound had become infected. The fever he'd developed had spiked during the night.
Djaq studied Allan's face, which did not seem quite so flushed. "He is strong." She brushed her hand along All his cheek then sat down on the end of the bed. "Allan will fight this. And he'll be pleased to know that all of you have taken turns to watch over him."
"I hope he'll understand why we must leave for England before he's well."
Djaq nodded. "Carter told me that the king asked that he, Much and Legrand accompany you as far as Poitiers."
Robin frowned. He rubbed the sore spot on his jaw where Carter's fist landed during the farewell celebration at the king's camp. "I'm sure he's thrilled at the prospect of spending weeks at sea with me." He looked at Djaq. "John and I could just as easily deliver a message to Queen Eleanor."
"Ah..." Djaq smiled. "...but you won't be returning to Acre to carry her news back to the king."
"And they will," he admitted reluctantly, a tinge of sadness lacing his voice. As each day passed he grew more aware of the friendship he and Much once shared. He missed that. And now he wasn't even sure Much would call him friend.
Allan moaned, his eyes twitching behind closed lids. Robin ran the damp cloth across his brow.
"This is a good thing," Djaq said. "Perhaps, on this journey, you will have time to come to an understanding. It would make Much happy to see the two men he loves most on speaking terms again. He's very upset about Allan, but I believe he is more upset about you and Carter."
The two men he loves most... Robin certainly didn't need anyone to remind him that Much and Carter were more than friends. They were lovers - nothing casual like so many relationships that developed whilst men faced death every day and served their king far from home. The looks, subtle touches, whispers...and smiles. He kept reminding himself that he shouldn't begrudge Much that. It was no different than the love he shared with Marian. He missed her so much.
Before Robin could respond, Djaq added, "And he--we are worried about you. You need to talk to us, Robin."
"I lost the only woman I ever loved," Robin whispered, his eyes growing moist. "Gisborne killed her. He did not even allow me the dignity to bury her. There is nothing to talk about."
"Robin--"
He shook his head. "Please don't lecture me, Djaq. I know what I must do."
Djaq laid her hand atop his. "Look into your heart, Robin. Would Marian want you to seek revenge for her death? Let the law take care of--"
Robin pushed Djaq's hand away and abruptly stood up. "That path is not an option for me. I left Gisborne lying in a pool of blood at the chapel where they laid Marian out. I will see that Vaizey is reunited with him in hell," he said, his fist clenched. "I cannot wait until the king returns to England. Marian cannot wait." He bolted toward the door.
"Robin?" Much said as Robin rushed past him, his eyes cast downward.
"I'm checking the supplies, Much," Robin called, his voice cold and blunt.
"We already did that. Everything is--" Much gave up his argument. Robin didn't stop; he wasn't listening. Much twisted the gold band on his finger as he watched Robin disappear down the hallway. Maybe he'd been too hard on him. He desperately wished to see Robin smile again. Desperately wished that the last few days were just a dream. He'd give his title back, forget his knighthood, sacrifice his own happiness.
Much wandered over to Allan's bedside. "Allan - if you can hear me - we're leaving...for a short while."
Allan jerked his head toward Much's voice. He mumbled something unintelligible then opened his eyes to stare toward the door. A moment later his lids grew heavy and he drifted back to restless sleep.
Djaq nodded, encouraging Much to sit down and continue talking.
"The king wants us to take a message to Queen Eleanor," Much said as he sat by Allan. "He won't trust anyone else, not even Lar d'Nair. I'm honoured to do this for His Majesty. I am his knight and servant after all." Much sat up a bit straighter. His blue eyes sparkled with pride. "You didn't hear about that, did you? We've all been so busy worrying about you...about Robin. I bet no one told you that King Richard knighted me. I really am Sir Much, earl of Bon-- oh, never mind. That's not so important right now. You getting well - that's important. So this isn't really a good-bye, Allan. Carter and I will be back in a few months. You do what Djaq tells you." Much glanced back and tipped his head toward Djaq. "Does he really hear us, Djaq?"
"Oh, yes, Much, and he probably will not be too happy about following my orders."
Much's eyebrows shot up. He'd like to be around to watch that.
Djaq left them alone. Much turned back to his friend and touched his warm cheek. He grew somber. "You have to hear me, Allan," he said softly. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He didn't need to look to know that it was Carter. A part of him wanted to reach back and take that hand in his because he always knew the strength there. Another part of him bristled. The fight between Carter and Robin still made him angry. And hurt. He ignored Carter, ignored his own feelings, and spoke to Allan again. "I wish I could take back all the bad things I thought about you. I mean...you were a traitor after all, working for Gisborne...but you came through for us in the end, didn't you?"
"He did," Carter said, giving Much's shoulder a squeeze. "I missed you these last two nights," he added quietly.
Much sat unmoving.
"I looked for you," Carter added. "I was worried. Where were you?"
"I'm not certain it's any of your business," Much replied coolly.
"I know, I know. Did you sleep?"
"No, not really."
"Neither did I."
"Good. Serves you right."
Carter fell to his knees. "Much...I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. He said a few things and--"
"We'd just talked about this." Much finally turned and looked into Carter's eyes. "You know how I feel. Why couldn't you just ignore what Robin said?"
"I should have, but he did throw the first punch."
Much shook his head.
"Sorry..." Carter's voice trailed off. "I never meant to use you. If I ever treated you as property forgive me. Please."
"That is exactly how I felt," Much said, his voice cracking.
"I would never hurt you. But I am afraid--"
Much tugged at Carter's hand and pointed to the ring he'd given him. "What did I tell you? This--" He pointed to the ring on his own finger. "...this means everything to me. Do you understand?"
"I love you, Much."
"I love you, too."
Much's fingers brushed the bruise near Carter's eye. He traced down his jaw line to the cut on his lip then kissed him gently. Carter flinched but wouldn't let Much pull away. He cupped Much's face with both hands and planted kisses from his forehead down to his chin.
"Do you how hard it is to sleep without hearing you breathing beside me?" Carter asked. "I hated not having you there. Hated not waking up to see you, watching you sleep. Watching the way your nose and mouth crinkle when the morning sun floods our tent with light."
Much's demeanor softened but Carter saw the glint in his eye. "I thought you said I snore."
"I wasn't going to mention that," Carter said.
"All that romantic talk--"
"Nothing wrong with that, is there?" Carter asked.
"Go on then."
Carter leaned forward and whispered, "Feeling your warm breath against my neck."
"Mm..." Much smiled as Carter's tongue tickled his ear. "Watching you squirm when I smashed those strawberries on your body and then licked you clean."
Carter reached into the sleeve of his tunic. Before they'd left Suleil's home two days earlier he'd grabbed a different reminder of the secret mission the king had sent them on. He pulled out the purplish stem and twirled the lavender between his fingers.
Much's lips found Carter's again. Their tongues dueled and breaths grew short between soft moans.
From the corner of his eye Carter saw John take two steps into the room. The big man stopped abruptly and blushed, quickly backed out, then cleared his throat just out of sight round the corner.
"Much, I think it's time to go." Carter pressed his forehead to Much's. "John wants to say his good-byes."
Much took a breath that rattled in his throat. His gaze fell back to Allan, and he ran his hand across his brow. "We'll see you soon, friend."
"That we will," Carter said confidently, which brought a smile to Much's face as he stood up.
Carter slipped his arm around Much's waist and walked out with him, leaving John to say his piece.
John moved past them to the bedside and sat down. "That move wasn't your brightest, Allan. Getting in between Gisborne's sword and the king." John sighed. "Maybe if the rest of us had been there just a minute earlier - but no, you had to face that madman alone, get yourself run through. You did not have to do that to prove your loyalty to us. I'm sorry this happened and I want you to know...I want you to know that I forgive you for betraying us.
"You need to get well and get back to Sherwood. If you don't I'll have to come get you. And I really don't like this bloody heat. And the sand. That boat..." John shook his head, pursed his lips, then took a long slow breath. Allan certainly wasn't used to hearing so many words come from his mouth. He wasn't used to it himself. But the words kept pouring out...and they were from the heart. "Sherwood. It's going to be quiet. Robin...I don't know...and Djaq and Will won't be there. I'll be glad of Much's company at least as far as Poitiers - even though he talks too much. So I'll be all that's left of the gang..." John's voice trailed off and he heard a slight movement at his back. When he turned round he caught sight of Legrand slipping past the door. Legrand would only be with them as far as Poitiers. Yes, it would be far too quiet back in Sherwood.
Are there rough seas ahead? Hold on to your hats...
Author: robinfanatic
Characters/Pairings: Allan, Djaq, Robin, Little John, Much/Carter
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama, Angst
Words: 2162
Warnings: hint of slash
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe
Notes: Beta'd by teamlavender; takes place after 2x13 but prior to 3x01
Introduction and previous chapter links for DII are here...
Summary: Robin, Much, and Little John say their good-byes to Allan as they prepare to leave Acre.
>>-------------------->
Chapter 11: Forgive Us Our Sins
Sunlight brightened the room where Allan lay in fitful sleep. His condition only intensified the storms tormenting Robin's thoughts. Sitting at Allan's bedside, his hands were tightly clenched, fingernails digging into his skin. Much's taunts haunted him.
There was a time I would have died for you, Robin. Now I wonder how many more people have to.
"Don't die on me, my friend," Robin murmured to Allan. "I know you were there for Marian. The others - they will need a loyal friend like you beside them. You are a good man, Allan A Dale. Marian knew that. I only wish I had believed it sooner." Robin wondered if he'd be haunted by his own words for the rest of his days.
Djaq paused by the door, not meaning to eavesdrop. She watched Robin gently press a cool cloth to Allan's face.
"Allan is listening to you, Robin," she said as she walked into the room. She laid a hand on Robin's shoulder and then glanced down at her patient.
Robin realized that Djaq, more than anyone, might understand how he felt, how deep his hurt ran. She'd lost her own family during the siege. And Will could easily have been lost to the desert.
"He's been tossing and turning, restless," Robin told her. "He keeps calling out for Marian."
"Allan spent a lot of time with her. He was the only friend she had while the sheriff kept her prisoner."
Robin smothered his anger. He would deal with Vaizey soon but he needed to think of Allan now in these last few hours before the gang began the long journey back to England. Who knew if Allan would survive, if their paths would cross again on this earth. "Marian trusted him. Cared for him. When none of the rest of us believed him. And there is nothing that will bring her back or let me erase the way we - the way I treated him."
"He knows, Robin."
Robin pointed toward the chest where he'd laid his scimitar. "I'm leaving my sword for him. Tell him to look upon it and know that he will always be a part of my gang." Robin's eyes met Djaq's. "He is going to be all right, isn't he?"
Despite Djaq's treatments, Allan's wound had become infected. The fever he'd developed had spiked during the night.
Djaq studied Allan's face, which did not seem quite so flushed. "He is strong." She brushed her hand along All his cheek then sat down on the end of the bed. "Allan will fight this. And he'll be pleased to know that all of you have taken turns to watch over him."
"I hope he'll understand why we must leave for England before he's well."
Djaq nodded. "Carter told me that the king asked that he, Much and Legrand accompany you as far as Poitiers."
Robin frowned. He rubbed the sore spot on his jaw where Carter's fist landed during the farewell celebration at the king's camp. "I'm sure he's thrilled at the prospect of spending weeks at sea with me." He looked at Djaq. "John and I could just as easily deliver a message to Queen Eleanor."
"Ah..." Djaq smiled. "...but you won't be returning to Acre to carry her news back to the king."
"And they will," he admitted reluctantly, a tinge of sadness lacing his voice. As each day passed he grew more aware of the friendship he and Much once shared. He missed that. And now he wasn't even sure Much would call him friend.
Allan moaned, his eyes twitching behind closed lids. Robin ran the damp cloth across his brow.
"This is a good thing," Djaq said. "Perhaps, on this journey, you will have time to come to an understanding. It would make Much happy to see the two men he loves most on speaking terms again. He's very upset about Allan, but I believe he is more upset about you and Carter."
The two men he loves most... Robin certainly didn't need anyone to remind him that Much and Carter were more than friends. They were lovers - nothing casual like so many relationships that developed whilst men faced death every day and served their king far from home. The looks, subtle touches, whispers...and smiles. He kept reminding himself that he shouldn't begrudge Much that. It was no different than the love he shared with Marian. He missed her so much.
Before Robin could respond, Djaq added, "And he--we are worried about you. You need to talk to us, Robin."
"I lost the only woman I ever loved," Robin whispered, his eyes growing moist. "Gisborne killed her. He did not even allow me the dignity to bury her. There is nothing to talk about."
"Robin--"
He shook his head. "Please don't lecture me, Djaq. I know what I must do."
Djaq laid her hand atop his. "Look into your heart, Robin. Would Marian want you to seek revenge for her death? Let the law take care of--"
Robin pushed Djaq's hand away and abruptly stood up. "That path is not an option for me. I left Gisborne lying in a pool of blood at the chapel where they laid Marian out. I will see that Vaizey is reunited with him in hell," he said, his fist clenched. "I cannot wait until the king returns to England. Marian cannot wait." He bolted toward the door.
"Robin?" Much said as Robin rushed past him, his eyes cast downward.
"I'm checking the supplies, Much," Robin called, his voice cold and blunt.
"We already did that. Everything is--" Much gave up his argument. Robin didn't stop; he wasn't listening. Much twisted the gold band on his finger as he watched Robin disappear down the hallway. Maybe he'd been too hard on him. He desperately wished to see Robin smile again. Desperately wished that the last few days were just a dream. He'd give his title back, forget his knighthood, sacrifice his own happiness.
Much wandered over to Allan's bedside. "Allan - if you can hear me - we're leaving...for a short while."
Allan jerked his head toward Much's voice. He mumbled something unintelligible then opened his eyes to stare toward the door. A moment later his lids grew heavy and he drifted back to restless sleep.
Djaq nodded, encouraging Much to sit down and continue talking.
"The king wants us to take a message to Queen Eleanor," Much said as he sat by Allan. "He won't trust anyone else, not even Lar d'Nair. I'm honoured to do this for His Majesty. I am his knight and servant after all." Much sat up a bit straighter. His blue eyes sparkled with pride. "You didn't hear about that, did you? We've all been so busy worrying about you...about Robin. I bet no one told you that King Richard knighted me. I really am Sir Much, earl of Bon-- oh, never mind. That's not so important right now. You getting well - that's important. So this isn't really a good-bye, Allan. Carter and I will be back in a few months. You do what Djaq tells you." Much glanced back and tipped his head toward Djaq. "Does he really hear us, Djaq?"
"Oh, yes, Much, and he probably will not be too happy about following my orders."
Much's eyebrows shot up. He'd like to be around to watch that.
Djaq left them alone. Much turned back to his friend and touched his warm cheek. He grew somber. "You have to hear me, Allan," he said softly. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He didn't need to look to know that it was Carter. A part of him wanted to reach back and take that hand in his because he always knew the strength there. Another part of him bristled. The fight between Carter and Robin still made him angry. And hurt. He ignored Carter, ignored his own feelings, and spoke to Allan again. "I wish I could take back all the bad things I thought about you. I mean...you were a traitor after all, working for Gisborne...but you came through for us in the end, didn't you?"
"He did," Carter said, giving Much's shoulder a squeeze. "I missed you these last two nights," he added quietly.
Much sat unmoving.
"I looked for you," Carter added. "I was worried. Where were you?"
"I'm not certain it's any of your business," Much replied coolly.
"I know, I know. Did you sleep?"
"No, not really."
"Neither did I."
"Good. Serves you right."
Carter fell to his knees. "Much...I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. He said a few things and--"
"We'd just talked about this." Much finally turned and looked into Carter's eyes. "You know how I feel. Why couldn't you just ignore what Robin said?"
"I should have, but he did throw the first punch."
Much shook his head.
"Sorry..." Carter's voice trailed off. "I never meant to use you. If I ever treated you as property forgive me. Please."
"That is exactly how I felt," Much said, his voice cracking.
"I would never hurt you. But I am afraid--"
Much tugged at Carter's hand and pointed to the ring he'd given him. "What did I tell you? This--" He pointed to the ring on his own finger. "...this means everything to me. Do you understand?"
"I love you, Much."
"I love you, too."
Much's fingers brushed the bruise near Carter's eye. He traced down his jaw line to the cut on his lip then kissed him gently. Carter flinched but wouldn't let Much pull away. He cupped Much's face with both hands and planted kisses from his forehead down to his chin.
"Do you how hard it is to sleep without hearing you breathing beside me?" Carter asked. "I hated not having you there. Hated not waking up to see you, watching you sleep. Watching the way your nose and mouth crinkle when the morning sun floods our tent with light."
Much's demeanor softened but Carter saw the glint in his eye. "I thought you said I snore."
"I wasn't going to mention that," Carter said.
"All that romantic talk--"
"Nothing wrong with that, is there?" Carter asked.
"Go on then."
Carter leaned forward and whispered, "Feeling your warm breath against my neck."
"Mm..." Much smiled as Carter's tongue tickled his ear. "Watching you squirm when I smashed those strawberries on your body and then licked you clean."
Carter reached into the sleeve of his tunic. Before they'd left Suleil's home two days earlier he'd grabbed a different reminder of the secret mission the king had sent them on. He pulled out the purplish stem and twirled the lavender between his fingers.
Much's lips found Carter's again. Their tongues dueled and breaths grew short between soft moans.
From the corner of his eye Carter saw John take two steps into the room. The big man stopped abruptly and blushed, quickly backed out, then cleared his throat just out of sight round the corner.
"Much, I think it's time to go." Carter pressed his forehead to Much's. "John wants to say his good-byes."
Much took a breath that rattled in his throat. His gaze fell back to Allan, and he ran his hand across his brow. "We'll see you soon, friend."
"That we will," Carter said confidently, which brought a smile to Much's face as he stood up.
Carter slipped his arm around Much's waist and walked out with him, leaving John to say his piece.
John moved past them to the bedside and sat down. "That move wasn't your brightest, Allan. Getting in between Gisborne's sword and the king." John sighed. "Maybe if the rest of us had been there just a minute earlier - but no, you had to face that madman alone, get yourself run through. You did not have to do that to prove your loyalty to us. I'm sorry this happened and I want you to know...I want you to know that I forgive you for betraying us.
"You need to get well and get back to Sherwood. If you don't I'll have to come get you. And I really don't like this bloody heat. And the sand. That boat..." John shook his head, pursed his lips, then took a long slow breath. Allan certainly wasn't used to hearing so many words come from his mouth. He wasn't used to it himself. But the words kept pouring out...and they were from the heart. "Sherwood. It's going to be quiet. Robin...I don't know...and Djaq and Will won't be there. I'll be glad of Much's company at least as far as Poitiers - even though he talks too much. So I'll be all that's left of the gang..." John's voice trailed off and he heard a slight movement at his back. When he turned round he caught sight of Legrand slipping past the door. Legrand would only be with them as far as Poitiers. Yes, it would be far too quiet back in Sherwood.
Are there rough seas ahead? Hold on to your hats...