For King and Country 2/5
Title: For King and Country 2/5
Rating: M
Word Count: 1345
Warnings/Genre: angst, slash
Characters/Pairings: Much/Carter, Robin, Allan, John, Count Friedrich
Copyright: BBC & TA own; I just want to play in their universe
Summary: a post series 2 tale of DeNile - yes, Carter still lives! The gang's mission: rescue King Richard from his captors in Bavaria.
Previous chapters: 1
>->------------>>
Chapter 2
The outlaws' quiet afternoon was interrupted when Count Friedrich arrived unexpectedly at the abbey.
“Where are they?” the accented voice rang out in English. Abbot Johann’s assistant struggled to keep pace with Count Friedrich as he hurried through the abbey’s dimly-lit corridor toward the outlaw’s quarters. “Do they not realize that I am a busy man?”
“If you would wait in the Abbot’s study-“
“No, no. That is quite alright, Brother Wilhelm,” he replied in German to the flustered assistant. “I am sure I will find them here.”
Carter and Much heard the commotion from their room. Carter stepped into the hallway as Much hurried to throw his habit on.
“Guten Tag,” Carter said as he approached the impeccably dressed man. “You must be Count Friedrich. We didn’t expect you until this evening,” he added in perfectly-accented German.
The count stopped and turned to the abbot’s assistant. “I believe I have found them. If we need anything else I shall let you know. Thank you, Brother,” he said with a tone that translated to you are dismissed. He waited until the man was out of earshot before turning back to the soldier who’d been joined by Much.
The count, dressed in a dark blue waistcoat and pants, paused to study Carter’s face, obviously impressed by more than just the young blond man’s fluency. “And you are?” he asked in English.
“I am Carter, formerly of King Richard’s private guard,” the soldier replied with a bow.
Much bent at the waist and nodded. “Count Friedrich, I am Much.”
“Lord Much of Bonchurch, of course, and Herr Carter. Friends of the Lady Marian, I am honored,” the count said waving his arm in the air with a flourish. “Where is Robin Hood?”
“Let’s check his room,” Much said leading the way past their rooms.
“We did not expect that you would meet with us here. Is it safe?”
“To some degree. I do support the abbey after all and it is not uncommon for me to meet with the abbot.” He eyed the outlaws’ brown robes and smiled. “You do not make bad-looking monks, my friends. I apologize for not meeting with you last night. I had business in Mannheim that I could not escape without raising some suspicion.”
“No apologies necessary,” Robin said as he stepped into the corridor and greeted the Count with open arms and a smile.
“Robin of Locksley,” the Count said, “I grieve with you for your loss. Lady Marian was a beautiful, strong, insightful woman with a courageous heart, one whom I had hoped to meet again.” The count did not miss the tiredness in Robin’s eyes. “You look exhausted, my friend.”
Robin bowed his head.
“I’m sorry that we were forced to have you stay here last night.”
“We’ve slept in much poorer quarters. You remember the forest has been our home in England these last two years,” Robin replied. “We are honored that you’re willing to help our king.”
The count studied the corridor. “We shall talk later at my home, gentlemen. Two of my courtiers will escort you there this evening. I think it is best that you do not all arrive together. I trust my own staff however others may be watching the route to my home. We must keep your presence quiet to ensure your success. This will not be easy.”
>->------------>>
Gebirgsschatten was a picturesque village seated at the edge of a forest with mountains to the west. The count’s home, on a hill overlooking the town, was palatial. As planned, the outlaws arrived after dark--Robin and John through the main entrance still dressed in monk’s clothing, and Allan, Carter and Much via a secluded entrance and secret passages on the south side of the building. Their guides led them through the home’s stunning courtyards, lavish halls, and to their own rooms, which, as Allan observed, were larger than most houses back in Nottingham.
Carter translated the courtier’s German and pointed Allan to his chambers. He explained that a servant would come around to retrieve him for a meeting with the count and he could ring for help at any time.
Count Friedrich heard the exchange as he approached the men. “Your German is quite impressive, Herr Carter. When did you learn to speak our language?“
"Just Carter, if you please,” the soldier replied with a nod of his head. “My father was a frequent traveler to your country. He’d bring my brother and me on those business trips. Thought we should know more about the world beyond England. Even hired a German tutor who spent a year with us.”
“Your father was a wise man,” the Count smiled. “Please, make yourselves comfortable in my home. I believe the Earl of Huntingdon and Herr Little John have already discovered that baths have been drawn in their rooms. They are just at the far end of this wing. I shall see you in the morning.”
“Your father? You’ve never mentioned him before,” Much said as the courtier opened the door to his chambers.
The courtier said something in German and Carter replied, “Danke. Alles das ist.” With a bow, the servant departed closing the door behind him.
Carter cocked his head to one side, his brow raised, and eyed the steam coming off the bathwater. Much needed no prodding. He grabbed Carter’s tunic greedily and slipped it over his head. Carter followed his lead, finding Much’s mouth as his tunic was thrown to the floor. Their breeches came off quickly then Carter stopped their breathless kisses long enough to grasp Much’s hand to lead him to the bath.
The lovers stood in the water for a few moments and shared kisses that trailed down necks, across shoulders, and suckled nipples. Much splayed his palm against the small of Carter’s back and shivered as he felt a familiar hardness as they pressed close. They knelt facing each other pulling the hot water across their bodies. Carter grabbed the soap and began to lather Much’s shoulders, back, and chest. Much’s heart pounded, his groin ached, and he thrust his hips toward Carter’s, anticipating soapy hands on his cock. Returning the gentle massage, his hands caressed Carter’s butt. Carter trembled, his muscles tightening as he moaned softly and opened his mouth to accept an exploring tongue.
The soft rhythm of slippery bodies rubbing against each other made Carter want more. Water splashed over the side of the bath as he stood up. Coaxing Much from the tub, he led him over to the bed, pressed him down on the soft down-covered mattress, and spooned his body, flesh hot and erect from the bath and the foreplay. Within minutes Carter was buried within his lover, their breaths coming hard and ragged.
Both men climaxed at the same time, waves of the orgasm making them shudder with pleasure. Carter buried his face in Much’s shoulder while his heart found its normal beat. He enfolded Much in his arms, desperately aware that they should relish every moment together. Promises of a return to England were only words, hopes that might be shattered by sword or bow. And if they survived this dangerous mission, was there a place for them back there, a life to live, to love, to share…or was it just a foolish dream to think their lives would ever be normal?
Much turned to face him, brushed his lips gently, then planted his head in the crook of Carter’s arm. Carter ran a finger across Much’s forehead and along his temple, then traced the strong, stubbled jaw line watching the outlaw drift into a light sleep. He lay beside him twirling a finger through his lover’s soft blond curls. He eyed the strong shoulders and the taut muscles of his naked butt. Remembering how Much responded to soft touches, remembering the feel of flesh hot against his skin and the passion and joy he saw in those blue eyes when they made love, he couldn’t hold back the tear that slid across his own cheek.
Chapter 3...
>->------------>>
Rating: M
Word Count: 1345
Warnings/Genre: angst, slash
Characters/Pairings: Much/Carter, Robin, Allan, John, Count Friedrich
Copyright: BBC & TA own; I just want to play in their universe
Summary: a post series 2 tale of DeNile - yes, Carter still lives! The gang's mission: rescue King Richard from his captors in Bavaria.
Previous chapters: 1
>->------------>>
Chapter 2
The outlaws' quiet afternoon was interrupted when Count Friedrich arrived unexpectedly at the abbey.
“Where are they?” the accented voice rang out in English. Abbot Johann’s assistant struggled to keep pace with Count Friedrich as he hurried through the abbey’s dimly-lit corridor toward the outlaw’s quarters. “Do they not realize that I am a busy man?”
“If you would wait in the Abbot’s study-“
“No, no. That is quite alright, Brother Wilhelm,” he replied in German to the flustered assistant. “I am sure I will find them here.”
Carter and Much heard the commotion from their room. Carter stepped into the hallway as Much hurried to throw his habit on.
“Guten Tag,” Carter said as he approached the impeccably dressed man. “You must be Count Friedrich. We didn’t expect you until this evening,” he added in perfectly-accented German.
The count stopped and turned to the abbot’s assistant. “I believe I have found them. If we need anything else I shall let you know. Thank you, Brother,” he said with a tone that translated to you are dismissed. He waited until the man was out of earshot before turning back to the soldier who’d been joined by Much.
The count, dressed in a dark blue waistcoat and pants, paused to study Carter’s face, obviously impressed by more than just the young blond man’s fluency. “And you are?” he asked in English.
“I am Carter, formerly of King Richard’s private guard,” the soldier replied with a bow.
Much bent at the waist and nodded. “Count Friedrich, I am Much.”
“Lord Much of Bonchurch, of course, and Herr Carter. Friends of the Lady Marian, I am honored,” the count said waving his arm in the air with a flourish. “Where is Robin Hood?”
“Let’s check his room,” Much said leading the way past their rooms.
“We did not expect that you would meet with us here. Is it safe?”
“To some degree. I do support the abbey after all and it is not uncommon for me to meet with the abbot.” He eyed the outlaws’ brown robes and smiled. “You do not make bad-looking monks, my friends. I apologize for not meeting with you last night. I had business in Mannheim that I could not escape without raising some suspicion.”
“No apologies necessary,” Robin said as he stepped into the corridor and greeted the Count with open arms and a smile.
“Robin of Locksley,” the Count said, “I grieve with you for your loss. Lady Marian was a beautiful, strong, insightful woman with a courageous heart, one whom I had hoped to meet again.” The count did not miss the tiredness in Robin’s eyes. “You look exhausted, my friend.”
Robin bowed his head.
“I’m sorry that we were forced to have you stay here last night.”
“We’ve slept in much poorer quarters. You remember the forest has been our home in England these last two years,” Robin replied. “We are honored that you’re willing to help our king.”
The count studied the corridor. “We shall talk later at my home, gentlemen. Two of my courtiers will escort you there this evening. I think it is best that you do not all arrive together. I trust my own staff however others may be watching the route to my home. We must keep your presence quiet to ensure your success. This will not be easy.”
>->------------>>
Gebirgsschatten was a picturesque village seated at the edge of a forest with mountains to the west. The count’s home, on a hill overlooking the town, was palatial. As planned, the outlaws arrived after dark--Robin and John through the main entrance still dressed in monk’s clothing, and Allan, Carter and Much via a secluded entrance and secret passages on the south side of the building. Their guides led them through the home’s stunning courtyards, lavish halls, and to their own rooms, which, as Allan observed, were larger than most houses back in Nottingham.
Carter translated the courtier’s German and pointed Allan to his chambers. He explained that a servant would come around to retrieve him for a meeting with the count and he could ring for help at any time.
Count Friedrich heard the exchange as he approached the men. “Your German is quite impressive, Herr Carter. When did you learn to speak our language?“
"Just Carter, if you please,” the soldier replied with a nod of his head. “My father was a frequent traveler to your country. He’d bring my brother and me on those business trips. Thought we should know more about the world beyond England. Even hired a German tutor who spent a year with us.”
“Your father was a wise man,” the Count smiled. “Please, make yourselves comfortable in my home. I believe the Earl of Huntingdon and Herr Little John have already discovered that baths have been drawn in their rooms. They are just at the far end of this wing. I shall see you in the morning.”
“Your father? You’ve never mentioned him before,” Much said as the courtier opened the door to his chambers.
The courtier said something in German and Carter replied, “Danke. Alles das ist.” With a bow, the servant departed closing the door behind him.
Carter cocked his head to one side, his brow raised, and eyed the steam coming off the bathwater. Much needed no prodding. He grabbed Carter’s tunic greedily and slipped it over his head. Carter followed his lead, finding Much’s mouth as his tunic was thrown to the floor. Their breeches came off quickly then Carter stopped their breathless kisses long enough to grasp Much’s hand to lead him to the bath.
The lovers stood in the water for a few moments and shared kisses that trailed down necks, across shoulders, and suckled nipples. Much splayed his palm against the small of Carter’s back and shivered as he felt a familiar hardness as they pressed close. They knelt facing each other pulling the hot water across their bodies. Carter grabbed the soap and began to lather Much’s shoulders, back, and chest. Much’s heart pounded, his groin ached, and he thrust his hips toward Carter’s, anticipating soapy hands on his cock. Returning the gentle massage, his hands caressed Carter’s butt. Carter trembled, his muscles tightening as he moaned softly and opened his mouth to accept an exploring tongue.
The soft rhythm of slippery bodies rubbing against each other made Carter want more. Water splashed over the side of the bath as he stood up. Coaxing Much from the tub, he led him over to the bed, pressed him down on the soft down-covered mattress, and spooned his body, flesh hot and erect from the bath and the foreplay. Within minutes Carter was buried within his lover, their breaths coming hard and ragged.
Both men climaxed at the same time, waves of the orgasm making them shudder with pleasure. Carter buried his face in Much’s shoulder while his heart found its normal beat. He enfolded Much in his arms, desperately aware that they should relish every moment together. Promises of a return to England were only words, hopes that might be shattered by sword or bow. And if they survived this dangerous mission, was there a place for them back there, a life to live, to love, to share…or was it just a foolish dream to think their lives would ever be normal?
Much turned to face him, brushed his lips gently, then planted his head in the crook of Carter’s arm. Carter ran a finger across Much’s forehead and along his temple, then traced the strong, stubbled jaw line watching the outlaw drift into a light sleep. He lay beside him twirling a finger through his lover’s soft blond curls. He eyed the strong shoulders and the taut muscles of his naked butt. Remembering how Much responded to soft touches, remembering the feel of flesh hot against his skin and the passion and joy he saw in those blue eyes when they made love, he couldn’t hold back the tear that slid across his own cheek.
Chapter 3...
>->------------>>