Title: Deluge

Genre: Romance/Drama/Angst

Rating: M

Summary: Restricted to England's green countryside, Azeem laments the loss of his kin and homeland when an unexpected boon literally comes crawling from the woodwork.

Disclaimer: The immediately recognizable belongs to Pen Densham and Morgan Creek Productions; the base story of Robin Hood is public domain. I'm not making a penny from this, and it is here for entertainment purposes only.

xxxx

It was raining again. Azeem cursed under his breath as he watched the heavens pour their tears down upon the lush green English earth, the whole time yearning for the feel of the hot sun on his back. He'd been away from home for too many years, and while he knew he spent far too much time lamenting that fact, he couldn't help himself. The local residents of Loxley Castle had once told him that he'd get used to the wet seasons and the bitter frost that blanketed the ground for more than half the year. However, it had been more than five summers since he'd slain the witch Mortianna, and the chill still seeped into his bones during the nights and made him irritable during the days. The good Friar Tuck had made many a crude comment about the lack of warmth in his bed being directly connected to his daytime irritability and harsh mannerisms: all of the problems he faced in life, it seems, would vanish into thin air if he'd take a woman to his chambers every so often. He scoffed at the idea, and for more than one reason. For one, he wouldn't be in this forsaken country if not for his weakness for the taste of a woman, and for another, he had more important tasks at hand these days.

Besides which, he had yet to meet one woman in England who stirred his passions as well as any woman from back home. He had laid any hope of returning back East to rest with the realization that the life he'd earned for himself after fulfilling his vow would be swiftly thwarted should he step ten leagues within the realm of his kindred. He reached up and pinched dust from his sleeve, disdain written clear as day on his features for the crude wool cloth the tunic had been made with. There was nothing here like the finely spun cloths from the East…

Enough. While he certainly missed the culture and comforts of his home land, he also had a great deal to be thankful for here. A quiet knock at the door signaled the coming of one of those comforts. He smiled softly. "Come in milady."

The door opened slowly, revealing the petite figure of the Lady Loxley, Marian, her weary expression and tight posture indicative of the heavy mass of her pregnant belly. "My God, Azeem" she breathed, "You certainly do not make yourself easy to find, do you?" She shot him a look of reproach as she shuffled across the room to join him near the window, seating herself in an adjacent chair.

"My apologies, milady." He nodded respectfully. "I simply found need for a few moments of solitude." He stepped back to look at her, concern in his eyes. "I fear I'm not the best company at present." Eager to change the subject, he inquired after her health, calling attention to the dark circles under her eyes made all the more visible by her pale flesh. "Are you well?" Her first child had near taken her life, and this second pregnancy had not been easy on her tiny body either. She suffered more swelling than was usual, and hardly had a normal appetite. He'd warned Robin about inflicting child upon her again, but neither had listened to his warning. They were both stubborn as mules, and he had not been surprised to find the bag of herbs he'd prepared for her as a guard against conception making its way around the servant quarters a week after the Lord had announced his wife was with child.

"I'm well, thank you." Her wide eyes took in his form, her brow furrowing as she took in his own haggard features. "Let us not worry so much. I'm quite capable of maintaining my own welfare. What troubles you, my friend? You must know that while I appreciate your staying here to oversee the birth of this child, you needn't confine yourself to the castle all the time. I know you are happiest in the forest, and I don't know why you refuse to return there when it is the only place that gives you true comfort." She took a breath, steadying herself in the chair, a light laugh escaping her lips. "Look at me, getting myself all flustered." Marian looked up and forced Azeem to meet her eye with a gentle hand to his cheek. "You are a dear friend to Robin and I, Azeem. It is your happiness which most concerns us. There are many healers in England of good reputation. Women have been having babies in this land without the help of your skill for centuries without issue. If you are unhappy here, I want you to go back to Sherwood. God knows I'll have an easier time over this whole thing if I have one less thing to worry about, and that includes you."

Azeem took her hand in his own, squeezing it gently in an attempt to convey his feelings. "I do not want to leave. My heart is heavy, but it is over things that I cannot control. Allah has sent me here, and here I shall stay. I want to see this child of yours brought into this world properly, and no English healer will meet with my expectations."

Marian laughed. "Azeem, you are far too critical. Contrary to your belief, there is some intellect within this country."

"Ah, yes milady. The trouble is, I have yet to see it." He smiled warmly, taking the sting from his words, and she laughed.

xxxx

Will Scarlet was more than just a visitor at Loxley castle seeking a free meal. Why, he was the second Lord of the manor, and he felt that he was justly deserved a decent seat at the table when supper was served. Which was why he was currently quite upset to learn that he had been seated near the arse-end of the table about as far away from his brother, currently seated at the head, as possible without verging into the realm of all out insult.

If it weren't for the man seated to his left, he might have been inclined to make a scene and demand a place as befit a man of his station, but Azeem was entertaining company, and so he'd held his tongue, though his brother would be getting the full extent of his wrath when this charade was over and done with, that was for sure. He had taken a small amount of comfort in seeing his brother's best friend seated further down the table than him. Just a small amount. He figured if he scowled at the head of the table long enough, someone might take notice and do something about his situation, but no one noticed, and this only served to annoy him further.

A muttered "stop scowling" followed by a low, patronizing growl from his left made him jump slightly in his seat. Will had the decency to look thoroughly chastised as he suddenly found the tapestries on the fall wall to be quite interesting. He felt his cheeks burning with shame. So someone had noticed after all, buy why did it have to be Azeem? The man was good company, for sure, but he could also be damned scary when he was angry. "They're entertaining dignitaries," the older man gestured to the front of the table where the guests of the hour presided in their cushy seats next to his brother. "It is good diplomacy to give the guests of honour the best seats at the table. You know it is not a personal attack against you, so stop behaving like a petulant child and drink your wine."

William grinned at his companion. "You know, Azeem, you might be more receptive to socialization if you partake of the vintage yourself for once." The glare he received put an end to his teasing. Obviously, the man couldn't take a joke. He coughed as his last swig of wine went down in a decidedly uncomfortable manner. No one at the table noticed as his face turned an alarming shade of purple and he struggled to catch his breath. Ah. Well, he was used to being ignored anyway. It was typical. He hacked a few seconds more before feeling a hand soothing his shoulders and stopping his coughing fit. Wheezing, and grateful to have his breath back he asked the older man what he'd been up to of late. When he received no response, he merely shrugged it off. He was getting used to that kind of treatment. Perhaps his friend simply wasn't in the mood. Lately he'd been that way quite often. Maybe something was bothering him. Maybe not. He amused himself instead with watching the other members of the dinner party try not to spill their meals on their fancy dining wear.

"I'm not ignoring you, Christian." Will turned, startled out of his watching the guests trying to impress his brother and appearing to fail miserably. Azeem had a contemplative look on his face that made Will wary. The older man met his eyes, and Will saw them filled with something he couldn't begin to describe. Azeem looked tired: worn out. He then noticed his friends hands idly pushing the lavish dinner fare around his plate: he hadn't eaten one bite.

"Are you ok?" Will asked nervously, gesturing to the full plate questioningly.

The dark man swallowed uncomfortably. "I would rather not discuss it, if that is alright." Will nodded, but was careful to watch his friend for the rest of the evening. When Azeem choose not to partake of the evening festivities, no one noticed. Really, the man didn't drink anyway, and hadn't told a story in more than a year. Will sighed sadly as he watched the coloured man disappear upstairs, presumably to rest. He knew too well what it was like to be invisible. Everyone else had their own troubles to contend with, and such was life.

xxxx

To be Continued…