A/N: HighPriestessOfTheDreamWorld: Thank you! I think Djaq is a great character because she is just so interesting. She is smart, fierce, and at the same time, she loves and feels deeply. She's fun to write, too, partially because I secretly wish I could be more like her. :-P I won't hurt Much too much, I promise. Thank you so much for your review! I really appreciate it.

xXxSour-LemonxXx: Thank you for your comments. I am glad that you feel Much is in-character...I can get kind of mushy when I write, so it's really reassuring. :-)

LadyArcherfan: Yay! Thank you. More flustered Much to come, I hope. I am glad you are still reading. :-D

Here is the next part. I hope you enjoy it!

Later:

Robin sat out in the night for first watch. Snow-flakes, fat and furry, were starting to flutter between the tree branches, giving Sherwood Forest a sheer layer of white. Not for the first or last time, Robin was moved by the quiet and stillness of a winter in the woods. He sighed, a great plume of frozen air in front of him that disappeared like a phantom. Normally, the camp felt safe and hidden from harm but, of late, with the Sheriff seeming to be a few steps ahead of every one of his plans, their little haven felt endangered. Thus, Robin had insisted a nightly watch.

Robin heard a faint sound and listened intently as it became clearer. Coughing. And sure enough, the maker of the sound was stumbling through the brush toward Robin.

Much was wearing his blanket in lieu of a cloak and carrying a bundle in his arms.

"Master!" He called, and the word stuck in his throat. He paused, one hand on his chest as he coughed.

"Much," Robin sighed, "Part of being on watch is not be seen or heard by others."

The former servant coughed harder and Robin frowned, rising to his feet.

"What are you even doing out here? You should be in bed."

Much shook his head, snow adhering to his exposed hair. "Master, I've been in bed all day. You left this behind, I thought you might be cold."

Robin took the bundle Much held out to him and realized it was the jacket he had wrapped his friend in earlier.

He gave a little half-smile and shook his head.

"Besides," Much rasped, "I couldn't sleep any longer and I was sure that my ailment was keeping everyone else awake. Alan told me to shut up but I.." He coughed several times and Robin couldn't help but wince at the sound, "...Just can't seem to stop."

He glanced at the log that Robin had been sitting on, then back up to his friend, blue eyes hopeful. "I was hoping that you might want some company on your watch."

Robin shrugged on his jacket, and grinned at Much's open face.

"I suppose you wouldn't listen if I told you that I didn't."

When Much's face fell, Robin clapped him on the shoulder.

"It is cold out here, my friend, and you are ill. Djaq would beat me over the head if I let you spend half the night out here," Robin's eyes squinted with merriment, "Not to mention the guilt that I will have to endure when you most certainly die from exposure."

"Robin..." Much scrubbed his running nose and dropped his gaze. He wanted to say something about feeling better when Robin was sleeping soundly and safely near by, after five years of war...how the snoring of his sleeping comrade was reassuring as it was in those far off strange places...but Much knew that bringing up the Holy War only ending up with him talking to a man made of stony silence. Instead, he said, " I worry that you are out here by yourself. If you send me back, I will spend the whole night worrying. Please...just for a while?"

Robin regarded his friend and heaved a breath of resignation. "Alright," he said, but held up a hand at Much's look of joy, "but you must be quiet. And if the instant you begin to feel the cold, you must go back inside."

"Of course, master," Much replied and plopped down on the log, "You will not hear me. I will be as quiet as a mouse...as quiet as a chapel...as quiet as a-"

"Much!"

"Sorry."

They sat in silence for only a few minutes before Much found he had to sneeze. Wanting to maintain his solemn vow, he tried to will the sensation away by wriggling his nose from side to side. So focused was he, that he did not notice Robin watching him. He rubbed at it, pinched at it and tried not to think about it, but the itch was growing. Finally, he could hold it no longer and he sneezed heartily, leaving a cloud of white breath in the air in front of him. And much to his distaste, he found that his young master was just about falling off of their log with barely contained laughter.

"What is so funny?" Much demanded, wiping his sleeve across his face.

It took a few moments before Robin could speak.

"You are," he managed.

Much pursed his lips and crossed his arms.

"I really don't understand what about me could be that amusing."

Robin did a quick impression of Much's battle against the sneeze, including crossed eyes and a comically wrinkled nose. Much's mouth twitched up in a grin, but he speedily repressed it.

"Oh, that is very funny," he said haughtily, and lifted his chin, "Very funny. Mocking the ill. Robin Hood's latest calling!"

Robin snorted in response. Much sniffed and struggled to maintain a straight face.

"I am sure that next it will be drowning small animals," Much added and was delighted to see mirth in Robin's eyes, "Or at the very least, kicking little old ladies in the rear!"

They looked at each and that was it. They doubled over, their loud laughter echoing through the winter-soothed woods like a spring rain. Quicky, Much's cheer turned harsh, and his laughing caught in his lungs and he choked. When it became apparent to him that the coughing was going to make him sick, he got up and moved away from his master. Holding onto a tree with one hand, Much bent and was ill. With a quiet moan, he straightened and leaned his forehead against his arms, glad for the tree's unwavering strength. What an awful thing to happen, he thought. It had been so long since he and Robin had laughed together like that...So long since he felt any connection with his friend since their return and, of course, he had to ruin it--

He felt a warm hand press his shoulder and he heard Robin's voice, careful and coaxing.

"Come. Let's head back to the camp."

Much nodded and pushed away from the tree, feeling sore and ashamed. He allowed Robin to take his arm and pull him along, just as he had done when they were youths. Robin with some mischief in mind for the estate, and stubborn but loyal Much being dragged along beside him.

Much realized that there was sweat running down the sides of his temples and he used his free hand to keep it from stinging his eyes. If he was sweating, he must be hot, he thought to himself, but at the moment all he could feel was cold. He could not stop his shuddering.