Hello Guys and Dolls, this is my first time writing a Robin Hood fic, and I hope you all like it. It's only going to be four chapters long, maybe three, starting with Robin and Much in Acre. I usually write in the first person, so I hope this is done well. I usually ask my younger sister, and she said that it was good. I wanted to be descriptive enough, but not to the point where it's the majority of the piece.

For more information on this story or others I may be working on, you can visit my blog. I try to update as much as I can, but it gets tough when I have college and two jobs I need to tend to. (www. addiej. blogspot. com) Just make sure you get rid of the spaces in between the periods and next word.

So I hope you like it and enjoy it as you read. This story line has been in my head since I saw the episode where Robin saves the king in the "Saracen" attack and when he talks about the Qur'an. Later on in the story, there will be flashbacks and such, so be prepared. Cheers!


Acre, The Holy Land, 1191

Robin of Locksley sat in the camp outside of his tent as the sun was still in the sky. King Richard had told his Captain of the Guard to rest for the day from all the fighting done and all the fighting yet to come. He stared into the place where no one but himself could see, not even his manservant Much.

The young noble remembered certain lines from the Qur'an, lines that had depth behind them. Both he and Much had read the Turk Bible. Robin had said it was wise to know what it was they were fighting, and Much did not object. He knew his master was fair minded and knowledgeable, and therefore he did not question many of his ideas or motives.

Robin was grateful for the unswerving and stable loyalty of Much, but questioned his decision of bringing his kind-hearted friend to the blood battlefield. Over the years he spent in the Holy Land, he realized this was a war waged with blood. No good was coming of Rome's Holy War, only more death, destruction, and the continuation of a war that will be difficult to end.

Much came and sat next to his master, who was as silent and unresponsive as stone. He knew that Robin would come back to his surroundings in his own time. There was no use in bothering him. He remained in his own position as the sun descended from the perch in the sky, making it seem like hours. Finally, Robin stirred and turned to look at his friend.

"How long has it been, Much?" he asked him.

"Oh, only a few hours, maybe less, master. The sun is almost set," he told Robin in reply.

Robin was silent for some time before speaking again. "Do you think we did right by leaving England, Much?" He paused. "Was leaving our home and Marian behind for all of this," he gestured to his surroundings, "worth it all?"

Much shrugged and sighed. "Honestly? I don't know, Master. Did it seem a good idea at the time? Before we came?" Robin nodded. "Why did you decide to come?"

"I wanted glory and honor; such silly things when I rethink everything now. I also came to fight with and protect the king."

"Well, the last is quite honorable. Your first two reasons," Much let out a breath, "will be very difficult to explain to Marian when we return." He turned to Robin. "Let me know when you're going to tell her so that I can make sure I'm far away. Perhaps with a nice plate of something." He sighed dreamily as Robin chuckled.

"Much, always thinking of your stomach." Robin paused. "If I know Marian, she'll already know my reasons and will still be dripping with disapproval as we speak, and return to England."

Much nodded. "I don't doubt it."

"Perhaps there was a reason we came here, besides what I wished for before," Robin continued. "Maybe we needed to see what is happening so as to open our eyes to how pointless this war is."

Much stared at Robin without speaking. His master's words made him think for a moment, before it became muddled and overshadowed by one of Much's main concerns.

"Master, I love you, you know that. But we came here for a maybe, a perhaps? Why didn't you tell me?" Much asked calmly as Robin watched him carefully, before exploding. "I would have brought more food so we would be less hungry!"

The king looked up and out of his tent as he heard Robin of Locksley's good-natured laughter booming from near his tent. He smiled, satisfied that the Earl of Huntingdon had been brought out of his melancholy mood, most likely by Much. He understood why Robin was feeling odd lately; he too was tiring of war and missed his home, his England. However, Richard the Lionheart did not want to leave the Holy Land without forming peace with the Turks. He was so close he could feel it within his grasp. But he did not want to celebrate just yet, instead he was willing to keep hoping and keep it alive for his men. With the promise of peace, came the promise of the return home.