Disclaimer: I do not own anything, and am certainly not making any profit off of this.
"Master, but."
"No, Much. You're sick. You need your rest."
"I am better. I refuse to be left behind like a sick child," Much protested. He stood up, but his legs betrayed him, trembling with weakness.
"Much," Robin sat his friend back down. "You can hardly stand. Stay here and rest."
"We're not doin' anything interesting anyway," Allan shrugged, "just making some deliveries." Allan exchanged a look with Robin. They had thought it best not to tell Much that they planned to raid the castle today. It wouldn't be good for Much to lie there worrying about them being killed.
Much knew he should rest. He knew that they were only making deliveries. They had told him so, but he had a strange feeling. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. "Master, let me come!" he begged.
Robin shot Djaq an anxious look. She hurried over and placed a hand on Much's forehead. "He does not feel like he has a fever," she said to Robin.
"That's because I don't," Much spoke, annoyed. He then turned his eyes to Robin, "Please, Master. Let me come." He was going to say that something didn't feel right but Robin cut him off.
"No, Much," Robin was firmer this time. "You are to stay here."
Much sullenly obeyed.
That had been several hours ago. As time wore on Much began to feel a strange urgency. It grew and grew until he could stand it no longer. He jumped out of bed only stopping to snatch up his sword and shield. He had to find Robin. He had to find Robin, fast. He began to run, not even thinking about where Robin might be or that his body was too weak and shouldn't be able to run. Energy filled him. Instinct guided him.
Robin closed his eyes. He hadn't thought it would end like this. In battle, yes, but not by the hands of Gisborne. The plan had gone wrong, completely wrong. Everything had seemed to be working. They had slipped into Nottingham and then into the castle. The guards had fallen for the distraction. He and his men were making their escape with the tax money, when they were spotted. One guard, who had been too busy sleeping to notice the commotion of the distraction, woke up just in time to see the outlaws sneaking away. Before anyone could stop him the man had run off and raised the alarm. Fighting had followed. They had managed to escape, but without the tax money. When they reached the forest, Robin had ordered everyone to split up and find their separate ways back to camp, for safety's sake, as Gisborne with several guards had ridden after them. The escape, at least, would have gone alright if Robin hadn't stepped wrong and twisted his ankle.
Robin opened his eyes, defiantly meeting Gisborne's smile of triumph. His eyes remained on Gisborne, while his mind raced, trying to find a way of escape, but he could think of none. His bow had been thrown from him when he fell, and Gisborne would surely strike before Robin could raise himself up enough to draw his blade. Robin waited.
The forest was completely silent. It seemed to be holding its breath, watching to see the fate of the man it had so long protected. A single autumn leaf floated to the ground.
Gisborne's smile grew larger, as he held his blade in the air ready to strike. Hood had been troubling them for far too long now. The Sheriff would certainly be delighted to hear of his death. "So, you are finally helpless."
"Killing me will not stop the cause of right," Robin declared steadfastly. "It will win. Prince John and the Sheriff will be defeated. King Richard will return."
"You will not be there to see it!" With a cry of hate Gisborne plunged his blade downwards.
The sword struck but not in Robin's flesh. It was reflected off a small round shield. Robin opened his eyes, which he had involuntarily closed. "Much!" he called out. "You shouldn't be here."
Much stood between Robin and his enemy, like an animal guarding her cub. His face was pale, and his body was trembling like a leaf, but his eyes were alight in fury.
Gisborne took a step back, startled. His smile quickly returned, though, when he saw how weak his opponent was.
"Stay away from him!" Much commanded. Now that he had stopped running, his body was mutinying. He was tired, very tired. His sword and shield had never felt so heavy.
Quickly Gisborne brought his sword down upon Much. The outlaw blocked the blow with his shield, but the force was too strong for him. Much was knocked to the ground.
"Much!" Robin struggled to stand up but the pain in his ankle caused him to crumple back to the ground.
Gisborne brought his blade down again. The outlaw was weak like his master. This was an easy job.
"I can not let him die," the thought blazed in Much's mind. With his last strength he rolled. He did not feel the pain, as Gisborne's sword missed his chest and entered his side. His mind, his body, his remaining energy were all intent on one purpose. He raised himself part way up, and stabbed the nearest part of of Gisborne. The blade drove through Gisborne's foot and into the ground beneath.
Gisborne's howl filled the air. He dropped his sword at the sudden agony and tried to leap back, but his foot was pinned. He fell to the ground, a cracking noise resounding as his head hit a rock. He then lay still.
Much, too, lay still and did not move.
"Oh Much," Robin crawled over to his friend. He looked at the blood seeping up from the wound in Much's side. It had to be stopped. "I need Djaq." He looked around the forest but saw no one. Quickly Robin removed his cloak and pressed it against the wound. Much stirred slightly at the touch. He opened his eyes and smiled when he saw Robin bending over him. That meant Gisborne hadn't killed him, either that or Gisborne had killed both of them. But he couldn't be dead. You didn't feel dizzy when you were dead did you?
"Much, you shouldn't have." Robin admonished. He felt slightly relieved. Much was awake. That was a good thing.
"You left me behind," Much accused.
"You were sick," Robin defended himself. His heart sank. "Were" was the wrong word. Getting stabbed hadn't cured Much. "Much is still sick," he thought.
"You almost left me behind for good," Much murmured. It was getting hard for him to think clearly, to even keep his eyes open. "If he had killed you I would have followed. I will not be left behind," Much's voice trailed off. He could fight no longer. The darkness took him.
Robin looked about. He had to get Much back to the camp, but how? His eyes fell upon Gisborne. The man most likely wouldn't awake for quite a while. Robin smirked slightly. They were even now; both of them had an injured foot. Robin looked back down at Much. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, but his face had grown even paler. Robin got to his feet, careful not to put any weight on his injured ankle. Despite his carefulness a pain shot up his leg and he grimaced. It was definitely sprained, or worse. He hobbled over to his bow. One of Gisborne's guards might appear at any minute.
A slight rustling noise came to Robin's ears. He spun around, a hand reaching for an arrow. The sudden movement caused his ankle to give way and he collapsed on the forest floor.
"Robin?" The outlaw leader relaxed when he saw Marian step out of the bushes leading a horse behind her.
"Marian, what are you doing here?" He asked.
"I was out riding and I heard screams," she replied, calmly looking about her. "What has happened here?"
"I don't have time to explain now, let me use your horse. Much is wounded and I need to get him to camp."
"Of course," Marian handed him the reins. Robin mounted with difficulty, and, with even more difficulty and Marian's help, managed to get Much in the saddle in front of him. Robin looked down at Marian, realizing that he was leaving her in the middle of the forest without a horse and with Gisborne at that. "Marian..." he started.
"Go!" She ordered. "I'm perfectly safe as long as I'm not with you."
Robin winced at her words, but they were true. If Gisborne or the Sheriff ever found out about her helping him...
"Farewell my love." He gave her one last look before riding off.
Much opened his eyes to find Robin hovering over him. A joyous expression was on his face, but he looked tired. "Much?" Robin spoke softly as if he was scared Much would run away.
"Yes," Much replied. He shifted nervously when Robin said nothing and continued to stare at him. A pain throbbed in his side, and he suddenly remembered. "I've been wounded, haven't I?"
Robin nodded, "You've been lying in a fever for weeks."
Much's eyes widened. "That long!" Then a puzzled look came on his face, "Master, you were hurt. How did you bring me back to camp?"
"Marian lent me a horse," Robin answered.
"Marian? What was Marian doing in the forest?" Much asked.
"You are still weak," Robin replied. I will explain everything later." He lowered his head. "You will heal now, but for a while I thought you'd leave me behind, my friend."
Much shook his head remembering the fevered dreams. How he struggled in them, always trying to get back to Robin. "I will not be left behind and I will not leave you behind." He stated.
Robin smiled, "Good."