Rating: PG
Pairing: Will/Djaq (Le Gasp I know! Something other than Guy/Maz and Allan/Maz! Shocker! )
Summary: "You have very fair skin and will most likely burn in this sun if you are not careful…"
Warnings: None…unless you count sunburn!
Status of Fic: Completed one shot drabbledom
Author's Note: Trying my hand at something a bit different although I've dabbled a little with Will/Djaq before in "Watching" and the possible sequel to my Guy/Maz trilogy (which I had all but finished and then it got deleted or saved over damn it! Smacks self in head) I hope it's not too horrific…looks sheepish
Disclaimer: I do not pretend to own anything Robin Hood-esque…but I do so like to borrow it…
Burn
He was a hard worker. She'd always known that. But something about seeing him, stripped down to just his dark, linen pants, sweat glistening across the slim curve of his back as he worked on sanding down the planks of olive wood they'd purchased from the market the previous morning, made her pause in her trip back from the well with water for her uncle's birds and watch with awe at his tenacity. His drive and determination.
She'd seen him working before of course, back in Sherwood when Robin had given him the task of designing and creating the new camp so that the winter months would be easier to suffer. However, England had never been widely famed for it's fair weather and most of his carpentry had been performed in constant haze of drizzle and wind and with Will himself wrapped up and hidden beneath several layers of thick, heavy clothing.
Here though, in her homeland, the tall, pale young man, dark hair slick with sweat and effort as he smoothed a palm almost lovingly over the lumber's grain, checking his handiwork, was laid bare.
Such a contrast to everything around him. To everyone. Except her of course. He was her other half, the second part of her soul and he had stayed with her, for her, and that made something, some spark of heat burn fiercely in her chest, the space just behind her heart until her ribs ached.
Djaq hadn't been aware that she'd been stood still and staring for long, long minutes until the tall young carpenter had paused in his own work, stood straight and ran the back of his already callused hand over his brow.
His eyes, soft brown and squinting slightly, not used to the harsh, bright sunlight of her homeland yet, met with hers and she very nearly dropped the pail of water that she'd hauled all the way up from the quiet courtyard centre down below.
"You have very fair skin," she stated, clearing her throat, a little flustered at being caught staring and Will chuckled to himself as he moved towards her. "And will most likely burn in this sun if you are not careful."
"I'm sure I'll be fine," he responded, smile lancing sideways ever so slightly into a grin that was not dissimilar to one of Allan a'Dale's infamous smirks. A large, work roughened hand smoothed ever so lightly across her cheek, moved to brush a lengthening lock of her ebony hair from her view and for a heartbeat Djaq thought that he was going to lean down and kiss her this time.
Always before she had been the one to initiate their kisses and embraces. He was young and shy and inexperienced and yet it was mostly because he was a gentleman, not wishing to force anything upon her that she would not want or would feel uncomfortable with. Their relationship was still in it's infancy so to speak and he obviously did not want to run the risk of jeopardising it in any way.
His thumb caressed her cheek once more, barely grazing across her skin, his eyes searching hers briefly for any hint that he was taking his actions too far, too soon and to reassure him Djaq covered his hand with her smaller one, holding it there, pressing it against the side of her face more firmly in silent encouragement.
Interruption came, however, in the form of her uncle, calling to her from the upper levels of his home where his beloved birds roosted.
"Sapphia?" his voice echoed out to her in query and he peered out of one of the elegantly arched windows of the upper floors.
They sprang apart immediately. Will jumping backwards and away from her as it he had been burned and Djaq sending most of the water in her bucket sloshing onto the dusty, sawdust covered ground.
Her uncle's chortle went unheard by them both. "Sapphia, I am still waiting for that water. I had wondered what had gotten you so distracted…"
"I am coming now, Uncle." and with a swift glance back over her shoulder at Will, she hurried into the shade of the house, disappearing into it's depths.
Later that evening, after dinner had been made and eaten and cleared again and her uncle had left them to prepare his birds for their roosting, they retired to Djaq's own chamber and, helping his stiff limbs to peel the loose fitting shirt from his back and shoulders she clucked her tongue in amusement.
"I did warn you," she chuckled lightly even as Will winced and hissed in pain and then a shudder hurled it's way down his long spine at the coldness of her fingertips as she ran them across the fiery, burnt pink skin of his back. "The sun here is a lot stronger than back in England. You cannot expect to spend all day working in it without paying the consequences..."
"I know that now, don't I?" he grumbled, peering at his shoulder and prodding gently at the coin sized blister forming there.
And as she laughed lightly at his suffering, dabbing his fiery red skin delicately with a cooling ointment, Will found that deep within him, where the sun couldn't possibly have scorched him like it had his back and shoulders, his nose and the very tips of his ears, something blazed away happily, like wildfire across dried summer grass.
And as much as he missed Sherwood, missed his brother and the Outlaws and Allan, as much as he missed the drizzling rain and the crisp coldness of winter and the firm wood of oak and beech and pine, he was glad that he had stayed.
He would learn to use the wood of her homeland to the best he could, he would learn her language, as she had learned his, and speak to her uncle and friends and he would send messages home, to speak with Allan and Lukey and tell them all back in the forest how he was faring. And he would know from experience to cover up himself in the harsh glare of day so that he would not end up as raw and pained as he felt then, though he was quite certain that the burning inside of him wouldn't be leavingvery soon, if at all. Nor did he want it to.
AN: I've just realised that I have the horrific tendency to make a mountain out of a molehill with my opening sentences. Must get out of that. The ending half is a bit naff really now I think on it…