Thank you, LadyArcherfan, HighPriestessOfTheDreamWorld, and xXxSour-LemonxXx for your kind reviews!!! It really helps keep me motivated. :-)

Here is the third chapter:

"Djaq!" Robin called, and the lithe young woman immediately jumped to her feet. "Build up the fire, we have to get Much warm."

Djaq stoked their camp blaze as Robin led his charge to a place before it.

"John, blankets," he said over his shoulder and the large man gathered them from his own pallet.

"What happened?" Will asked.

"He fell into the river," Robin explained. Djaq bent down to look into Much's face, taking in his tired eyes and chattering teeth.

"Take off your wet shirt," she commanded and Much fumblingly did as he was told, careful with his master's damp jacket.

"Help me," Djaq said to Robin, and began to swiftly rub Much's left arm in both her hands. Robin quickly followed suit, briskly rubbing Much's right fore-arm.

"I'm...I'm fine," he protested and weakly tried to pull away from his friends.

"You are not," Djaq told him plainly. "You were exposed to the cold. Now, be still."

She then moved to sit behind him, and wrapped her arms around his chest. He stammered, unsure, but she hushed him.

"Body heat is the easiest way," she said, and in such a tone that remedied any of Much's modest concerns.

He relented and leaned back against her, and sure enough, he began to feel warmth creeping back into his skin. In a few minutes, his shivering lessened, then stopped completely. He turned his head, and let his eyes slip shut, his damp curls making wet patches on Djaq's shirt. She smells nice, he thought to himself. He thought about saying it aloud, but he did not feel like moving just now...it might break the spell of pleasant warmth.

Djaq realized he had dozed off when his head grew heavy on her shoulder and his breathing evened out.

"Is he going to be alrght?" Robin asked, quietly voicing his concern and the others who had gathered close to the fire.

"I am sure he will be fine," she said, her little hands clasped around Much's chest as though it were as natural as rain for her to be there. "My only concern is that he has been complaining of being ill these last few days. I do not wish to see his condition worsen."

"I'm not being funny," Alan began and gestured to the empty kitchen area in their tidy camp, "but whose gonna make breakfast, then?"

His grin slowly faltered as he realized Robin was glaring at him, eyes glinting like arrow-heads beneath his long bangs.

"Hey," Alan spread his hands, "It's alright! Who needs breakfast anyway? Stupid meal, I've always thought."

Robin took off his canteen and tossed it so that Alan had to walk forward a few steps to catch it.

"Someone has to get water. I trust that task is not above you?"

Alan scoffed but slung the canteen over his shoulder.

"John? If you don't mind, could you--" Robin began but John cut him off.

"I can throw together something for the morning meal," the larger man said and lumbered into Much's well-tended kitchen.

With one last glance at his friend, Robin snatched up his bow.

"I am going back to hunt some game. The villagers need meat. And so do we." The archer bounded out of the camp entrance.

Much coughed in his sleep and shifted to find a more comfortable position in Djaq's arms. His blond lashes bobbed and opened and he realized where he was and pulled away from the woman, running one hand over his eyes.

"Sorry...Didn't think I would doze off. I hope I did not get your shirt wet. Oh, I did, I can see it," he suddenly blushed, "Not that I should be looking at your shirt, Djaq. I mean, you are one of the lads, of course. But you still have...you know...Not that I am looking because I am not looking!"

"Much!" Will interjected, exasperation in his tone. "Shut up!"

Djaq rolled her eyes and got to her feet, dusting off her pants.

"You should change out of the rest of your clothing and stay by the fire," she instructed.

Much nodded and hurried to his bunk, still blushing to the tips of his ears. When he had pulled on new trousers and a clean shirt, he carefully set Robin's jacket closer to the flames to dry it out. No use in ruining the master's clothes, he chided himself, scrubbing his sleeve under his nose. He wrapped himself in one of the blankets John has left in a tangled bundle on the camp floor. Sighing, he rubbed his fingers over his eyes than through his hair. At once, he found that his head was bare and he gave a little yelp.

"My cap! Oh, no, I must have lost it at the river!" He got his feet and made for the camp entrance, but Djaq beat him to it and used both hands to firmly stop him.

"Much, you are not leaving this camp. Now get back over there and sit!" She put her hands on her hips and Much looked longingly beyond her before scowling and sulking back to the fire-side.

"It's only an old hat," John said, his brow furrowed with concentration as his big hands did the gentle work of slicing bread.

Much sputtered with outrage.

"An old hat? I will have you know that that "old hat" happens to have been a gift and..and.." Much's frustration gave way to coughing and it took him a moment or two to stifle it.

"Relax, Much, perhaps Alan will spot it on the path," Djaq said, but her dark eyes flashed concern over his head to Little John. "Why don't you lie down for a spell...pass the time till he gets back?"

Much pretended to weigh the suggestion, but he was feeling strangely tired.

"I suppose," he said, with a sigh that he hoped sounded haughty, "to pass the time."