Title: River
Pairings: Much/Robin
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 524
When Robin and Much were young, they bathed when their mothers told them to. Robin, being a noble, bathed often, and Much tried to keep up because he didn't want to seem dirty to his master. And being the domestic kind, Much continued his developed tradition of bathing often when he grew up, meaning at every available opportunity in the Holy Land and about once a week when they came home, while Robin mostly forgot about it once his mother was no longer there to urge him, and had to be told that he stunk several times before he would do something about it.
Until Marian's wedding was announced. Ever since then, Robin had bathed often, to impress her. That's why he's in the river now, shuddering in the cold water and roughly scrubbing his arms and torso with a small piece of soap.
Much isn't spying. He just happened to be walking along the river back to camp, and notice Robin in the water. He's been out getting dinner, and has a bow in one hand and a couple of skinny rabbits in other. Camp is just a few minutes into the forest from here, and he'll move on in a second, to see if he can't have dinner ready for his master once he's done washing. In a second.
This part of the river is deep and wide. Robin is in it to his chest, and his back is turned towards Much. There is little warmth in the sun today, and his skin is stark white against the dark green of the opposite bank. Like a sheet stretched tight across sinew and bones. His shoulder blades stick out as he lifts his arms above the water, out of the cold.
In a second.
He should cut his hair soon, Much thinks, leaning on the trunk of a tree. Robin has just turned his head, revealing bangs that almost cover his eyes. An archer can't have his sight obstructed like that. He'll suggest it after dinner.
The river is deep and wide. Much feels like the river is running through them both, from him to his master, and on the way it takes Much heart and dissolves and absorbs it. So that when Robin breaks the surface and climbs, laughing and shuddering, out of the river, the water running down his torso and legs is not water at all, but Much's love. Much feels all these things, but has no words for them. He knows only the ache when Robin and Marian holds hands. He knows only his anger when somebody dares to question his master. He knows only his secret, treasured memories from the holy land, when he slept curled around Robin, even though the fires and the blankets were warm enough on their own. A time when Robin reached for his hand, when the nightmares came.
Robin is fully dressed and heading back to the camp. Much's leg is cramping, and his shoulder is bruised from leaning on the tree. He waits a little longer before leaving, to give Robin time. Meanwhile he watches the river. It carries his love away.