Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author Note: Spoilers for all three series. Title is a lyric from the song 'My Sacrifice' by Creed.

CARELESS I BELIEVE

Marion was a nun when Much first met her. No, she wasn't, Robin explained to him; Marion was going to be a nun because the Baron who enchanted Little John wanted to marry her and she didn't want to be his wife so she'd decided to live in an abbey where she'd be safe. Then Robin rescued her and she wanted to be with him instead so she gave up her lands and became an outlaw in Sherwood.

Much liked Marion, she wasn't scared even after her guards were killed and an outlaw scooped her up into the trees. Then Robin ran off after Gisburne, telling Much to look after Marion. She was beautiful too, in blue and white, and she'd looked familiar. Where had he seen her before? Maybe he'd seen her when he'd been in Nottingham, taking goods to sell at the market. She held his arm like she knew he'd protect her. He would, he was good with a bow and Robin had told Much to protect her so he would.

They talked a little bit, about living in Sherwood and Herne the Hunter. Much was surprised that Marion didn't know more about the forest god, he'd always been there, didn't the high-born know him too? Maybe the Christian God wasn't friends with Herne, that didn't seem fair. Herne had to be lonely sometimes, when his people weren't worshipping him or making offerings. He must have been glad to have Robin as his son.

"Robin's always seen things," Much told Marion, crouched beside her in a thicket, waiting for Robin's signal. "He gets dreams, you see, the sorts of dreams that tell you things. He told me once that he saw a man who thought he was a god, in animal skins and antlers. Father said..."

Much faltered then because his father was dead. Killed by Gisburne because he wouldn't say where Robin and Much were. Dead.

Marion touched his arm and looked worried and sad. Her hand was warm and Much took a deep breath, trying not to think about his mother's tears as she;d swum in the mill pond and his father's body just lying there in the grass. And the mill had been burning, it'd been so bright and hot, Much had felt the heat from where he'd been hidden. He should go and help bury his father, before dark because it was bad luck afterwards. But Robin had said that the Sheriff would be watching the mill, well that his guards would be, and that if Much or any of them went there, they'd be caught and hurt, maybe even killed. Much didn't think they'd catch him though, he knew that land better than anybody except Robin, nobody could catch him there if he didn't want them to.

But Robin had still said no. Much was still wrestling with that, trying to work out when he could slip away to the mill. Herne would protect him, wouldn't he?

"Father said it was Herne and that Robin's a lot like his father."

Marion looked confused now and Much told her about Ailric who'd been a leader like Robin and how Much's parents had taken Robin in after the Sheriff had killed Ailric. He was still explaining, because it was complicated if you didn't untangle it right, when Robin himself returned and wanted to talk to Marion. She squeezed Much's arm and thanked him for looking after her.

Much watched her walk deeper into the forest with Robin, her white clothing fluttered and made her look like the spirits in stories that had scared Much. He wasn't scared anymore though, spirits couldn't hurt you like devils could. And there were lots of devils, the kind that waited for you in the darkness and flesh and blood ones like Gisburne.

Robin looked sad when he had to say goodbye to Marion, taking her to her abbey. Marion looked sad too. Much frowned, if they were sad at being parted, surely the Christian God wouldn't mind if Marion stayed here? She could still go to the abbey to talk to him, couldn't she? Much didn't like seeing his brother so sad; Robin had looked all lit-up when he'd been talking to Marion, the sort of happy that Much hadn't seen him wear very often because well, the loss of Much's father was like a hole through Much's flesh, a wound that kept hurting no matter how hard Much tried not to think about it, and Robin had lost people, hadn't he? His parents, his whole village, and now Marion, because you could lose people by them leaving too. Robin had to be full of wounds. Much wanted to stop that from happening.

But when he tried to talk to Robin about it, Robin shook his head and said that Marion was safe in her abbey, because nobody would hurt her on holy ground, and that that was what was most important. Much shook his head and tried to say that Marion would be safe with them in Sherwood because they'd protect her, wouldn't they? But Little John grabbed Much's arm and began talking to him about Hathersage and did Much know how to use a staff? It was useful in a fight.

Later, when Robin rescued Marion from the Baron's castle and she decided to live in Sherwood with him, Much smiled happily. Robin said that Marion was his wife and Much's sister now. He'd never had a sister before and he'd always felt safe in the forest, Marion would too. And she'd be with Robin so of course she'd be safe. Much nodded, her God would understand.

They never got the chance to bury Tom and Dickon but Much slipped away the next night to the mill. He wanted to make sure that his father was buried as he should be. He wanted to say goodbye. The mill was all burnt; ash hung in the air and coated every breath that Much took. He couldn't see his father or mother, his mother had to still be alive, didn't she? There were people who'd look after her, people who'd hide her if Gisburne came looking for her.

Something was squeezing hard in Much's chest. It made him gasp and he could feel tears falling down his cheeks. He wiped them away because he could see moonlight glinting off a guard's helmet. The Sheriff was having the mill watched, well Much wasn't going to get caught. His mother had probably buried his father once Gisburne had ridden off, she wouldn't have waited to do it, no matter how much she'd been crying.

Much would find out where his father was buried. Robin would help, Little John might and so would Marion. Robin had said that their friends who'd died wouldn't be hurt again, hadn't he? They were free and they were in Sherwood, like the trees and the sunlight, they were part of it now. So Much's father would be too. The Sheriff couldn't hurt him anymore.

When Much scrambled quietly back into the forest, no guards followed him. He was getting close to the camp when he realised that he wasn't alone. There was a very distinctive figure standing to his left. The figure wore animal skins and antlers. Much's eyes widened, his fingers tingling as he stared for a moment before remembering to drop to his knees. Herne wouldn't punish him, would he? Much hadn't done anything to damage the forest, he loved Sherwood, he always had.

There were wisps of smoke curling everywhere and nothing hurt so Much peeked upwards and saw Herne raise his arms like he was giving a blessing. Much stared, watching until Herne lowered his arms and walked away, slowly, until he disappeared completely. Had Herne blessed Much or his father's passing? Maybe both.

Before Much could move again, a hand grabbed his jerkin and hauled him to his feet. Robin had found him.

"I told you not to go to the mill."

Much struggled against his brother's strong grip. "Nobody saw me."

"How do you know that?"

"I'm not dead, am I? And neither are you."

Robin loosened his grip at that but stayed close and didn't look happy. "The mill?"

Much frowned, still tasting ash in his mouth. "The fire took everything."

Robin nodded, his hand a warm comfort at Much's shoulder. Neither of them spoke on the way back to camp, both wrapped up in their thoughts. Much was too distracted to remember to tell Robin that he'd seen Herne. When he slept though, he found peace. Maybe he had been blessed.

Robin was different sometimes now. He was still Robin, Much's brother, but he was Herne's son too. Whenever he left to talk to Herne, he came back all quiet and thoughtful. Then someone would say something and he'd suddenly jump up, knowing what they needed to do. Herne told him things, prophecies, images and words that told him what was going to happen, what Robin needed to know. But it wasn't always clear; they were like riddles that Robin had to figure out.

Robin had dreams too; they must have been even more vivid than the ones he'd used to have back when Much was younger. Robin used to shout, so loudly that everybody in the mill got roused awake. His eyes were always scared and wondering. Much's parents would talk to him softly and help him try to find peaceful sleep again. He had Marion beside him now to soothe away whatever grabbed at him in the darkness.

Tuck said that Robin had a lot of responsibility now, he wasn't just leading the group that lived in the forest, so many people in nearby villages needed him too. He was their hope, they could suffer for helping him or not telling the Sheriff what he'd been doing, and Robin probably felt like he couldn't ever let them down. That made sense and explained Robin's quiet solemn moods. Tuck was good at explaining things, he never called Much simple or half-witted when he asked questions either. He was funny too, even if he liked the Christian God more than Herne.

He worked like they all did – getting wood for the fire, helping to make shelter, skinning and cutting up the animals. Tuck milked goats happily and taught Much how to prepare Nasir's food, because Nasir believed in a different god who liked his people to eat things in a special way. It wasn't so strange, Tuck told Much, after all Herne's followers observed the Time of the Blessing, didn't they? And Christians didn't. Tuck talked about a lot of different things with Much, like the order of monks that he'd been part of before he'd become the Sheriff's chaplain. He was full of interesting stories. Of course he was, commented Little John, he was big enough.

Tuck explained that for a long time his order of monks had been his family because when he'd lived with them it'd been important for him to focus all of himself on God, even the bits of him that loved who'd raised him. Much was quiet for a bit, thinking about his own family. The only person he really had left was Robin and he belonged to Herne now too and Marion and his people. Things weren't the same anymore, not at all.

"Do you think your God and Herne, do you think they talk a lot?" he asked suddenly.

Tuck didn't look exactly surprised; he sort of paused though and then looked thoughtful as he began carving up a deer carcass. "I'm sure they do. I mean, my God brought me to Nottingham, to Marion and then to Robin and you lot. The way I understand it, Herne's been calling Robin since he was young, he called him right into Nottingham Castle, all the way to Marion's door. They must have talked, mustn't they?"

Much thought about that for a good long time. He always had questions but sometimes they got forgotten in the rush of keeping an eye out for the Sheriff and making sure people got enough money to feed their families. Sometimes people didn't want to answer him. But Tuck usually did and Marion didn't seem to mind, neither did Robin though he didn't have much time for that anymore. Because he was Herne's son and he had to look after his people. Yes, Much remembered now but it hurt sometimes, to have to share the only real family he had left even if he did understand why.

He settled back and thought about what Tuck had said. Tuck was good at giving Much a thought that sort of stayed in his head for a while. Much lay there thinking until Little John smacked him heavily on the thigh to alert him that it was his turn to help with dinner; there was deer meat to be cooked. Much swiped back at John and then scrambled out of the way, careful not to tip over the nearby bucket of fresh goat's milk. John tumbled after him. Tuck's words had been good thoughts to grasp and turn over, Much was going to hold onto them.

TBC