Denial, Ch. 39: Kalilah, No Words
Title: Denial, Ch. 39: Kalilah, No Words
Author: darkentwisted
Characters/Pairings: Much/Carter, OC Mentions: Robin, Guy, King Richard, Marian, Lord Malcolm
Rating: R (For mention of dubious consensual sex, M/M)
Genre: slash, angst, dub-con
Words: 1675
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; I just want to play in their universe
Notes: This continues the 'Round-Robin' fic 'Denial'.
Personally tested and sanitized for your protection by robinfanatic & wastingyourgum poor souls with an unenviable task.
Summary: Much reveals to Carter his darkest secret about Robin.
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Previous Chapters: Summary of previous chapters...
Denial, Chapter 39: Kalilah: No Words
by
Darkentwisted
The desert sand swirled around them. How many days had they been holed up here? They had lost count. Their regiment was long gone. It was just the two of them. All that waited for them outside the abandoned village was certain death.
They had faced reality days earlier. No food, water was running low, and they were alone against the enemy. Much and Carter held each other against the incessant chanting. They knew there was no escape and it was only a matter of time before the end came.
"No one ever held you like this?" Carter asked. Did he really want to know? "Not even Robin?"
"Well..." Much knew it was only a matter of time before his lover asked the truth. "I do not want to talk about it."
"But you started this game," Carter chided. "No backing out now, squire. You must tell the truth."
Much sighed. "It was a day like this one. Unending heat. Robin had just been attacked by a Saracen about to murder the king. At the time we thought it was a Saracen - it turned out to be Gisborne, sent as an assassin." Much continued, "Robin was grievously injured. Even the healers had given up on him." The former servant's eyes glistened at the memory. "He was dying, Carter. With every second, his life slipped through my hands."
"Go on," the knight encouraged, realizing the raw memories he opened.
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Robin was so cold, even as the desert sun threatened to burn everything around them. Much was determined that if death should take his master it would have to be through him. The camp was quiet. It was as if death had marked the two men and no living person could come to their aid. It was just Much and Robin and the ever present stench of failing mortality.
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The squire blinked back tears. Carter held his lover against the pain of memories too harsh to relive. "And?"
"He called to them. Oh Carter I felt each breath would be his last. He was mute with exhaustion yet still he called in a soundless whisper. He wanted his father and home, then he called for her."
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"Marian?"
He shouldn't have felt like that, not then, not when Robin needed him most, but the anger rose in his gut. She is not here you poor deluded fool! Much thought. She is thousands of miles away, pampered, spoiled, not even caring, and you lay here dying in my arms. I am here, master. Why is it not my name you call?
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"You were jealous...of her."
Much nodded. "He was promised to her before we left to fight this foetid war. It broke my heart. I had known Robin since he was a boy, protected him, looked after him...loved him. I hated her."
"Then?" Carter nudged on.
"Robin's fever broke," Much whispered.
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Through the night Much held his master as he soundlessly shivered, cried, cursed and begged for death. Much shed his clothes and lay beside the dying man, praying his heat would save Robin. God listened.
The man he loved turned in his arms and his eyes were clearer.
It was just the two soldiers and the pleasure of being alive. Robin kissed Much and he gladly kissed back. Then it became more. The herbs the doctor left were more potent than the servant thought. Robin smiled as he covered his lover's mouth with his own. Much's heart sank when the hissed whisper of her name filled his ears. He swallowed his pride and let his master believe. "I am here, my love."
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"You made love to him because he thought you were Marian," Carter reasoned.
"He begged me, Carter."
"You did it because you were scared."
Much shook his head, his eyes watering at remembered sin. "I wasn't afraid anymore. I saved my master from death itself. I was glad to be the object of his affection for one night, even under her name." For the first time Much was embarrassed. "I could not deny him what he needed. There were no words. I let him use me that way and not a word was said." It was the squire's turn to bury his head in his hands. "It hurt. I wanted to stop but a part of me wanted to go on. I let him...do that... to me, use me in her name, tell me he loved me seeing her face. I couldn't stop myself. He was sick and out of his head. I should have stopped him but I didn't." He looked up in tears. "He loved me like a brother and I betrayed him."
"And what about you, Much?"
"I wanted it too. I just wasn't ready for what happened after."
Carter held his lover in his arms as those moments were relived with tears. "Let it out. It's all right."
"I was so ill when it was over. I felt we were cursed for what I did. We sinned against God. Robin, he wouldn't even look at me. But I...I loved him. The next day it was back to the same thing. 'Much do this, Much do that.' I was just a servant again. When he recovered, he acted like it never even happened. But he remembered. I could tell in the way he spoke to me, the way he flinched when I touched him. Everything changed between us. A line was crossed and we could never go back. I ached for his touch but it also frightened me. It seemed like an eternity before we could be physically close again. He wanted more but it was never my face he saw when we had sex. At times I didn't care..."
"You were more than just a servant."
"We both had needs. I never wanted to take advantage again but I could never deny him." Much had given up trying to look into Carter's eyes. His shame was so great he spoke to the wall instead. "I wanted him to love me the way I loved him. From that point on, he owned me, body and soul. Even after we returned to England, I let him use me that way because it was the only way I could hold on to him." The squire looked at his master. "I am not a good man."
"No, Much. You are a good man. You were just placed in a bad situation."
Much turned in his lover's arms. "Am I? I talk too much, eat too much... worry." He looked at the barred windows. "Not that there isn't cause for that now."
Carter grasped his lover's chin and smiled. "I like to hear you talk, Much. I like to watch you eat. And I like to hear you talk about eating! When you worry it's comforting. I only worry when you stop."
Much looked at Carter with reservation. "I just wish I could talk to Robin one more time." He sighed heavily. "And now you know the worst about me. I took advantage of my master in his deepest hour of need."
Carter pressed his lips against Much's forehead. "What you did was not wrong. You gave a dying man what he hoped for the most, at the cost of your own conscience. Robin should be the one who should feel guilty. The first time was an accident but he was the one who came back to your bed!" He shook his head. "You did what you had to do in a difficult time. In my eyes that makes you the better man. Besides, what would you say to Robin if he was here?"
Much sighed, "We have so much to say to each other. I love him but I also hate him. I was never an equal. I wounded him, took advantage of him and hurt us both so bad he could never forgive me for it. He never wanted to talk about it and I never got to say I was sorry. He made me a free man but he never gave me my freedom." Much stopped and paused at his own realization. "You did... in more ways than you can ever imagine. I have never thanked you for that. You made me my own man and now you have cleared my mind. For that I shall be forever grateful."
Carter looked deeply into his lover's regret-filled eyes. "You're wrong about being a bad man. I see only good, in you and in your heart. He shook his head. "It is you who has freed me, more than you'll ever know, my love. That I should die here with you. I..."
The splintering sound of dry wood giving way stilled them. In the dark they could see the unmistakably shrouded figure of a Saracen climbing in through the opening.
Carter put his finger to his lips as Much's eyes widened. He quietly drew his sword and slipped to the other side of the window.
At his lover's nod he poised himself as Carter caught the enemy and pulled him into the room, dropping him to the floor. Much silently leapt on top of the man and his blade sliced down.
The Saracen rolled out of the way as the blade struck the earthen floor. He glared at the soldier, then his eyes widened. "Oh you gotta be kidding me!"
Much reacted in disgusted amazement pointing his sword at their would-be attacker. "You speak my King's English! How dare you!"
"Of course I do, Much!" The masked Saracen pulled down the scarf over his mouth and nose revealing pale flesh and blue eyes. He looked at the point of his friend's weapon. "Now if you don't mind, I'm allergic to metal...especially sharp swords."
"Yeoman Brooks?" Carter asked in almost total disbelief.
"After the night we had? Call me 'Charles', gorgeous." The former sailor grinned as he dusted himself and offered his hand to the stunned soldier.
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The three men sat around in the darkness. Brooks smiled self assuredly as usual and explained what happened after the night they last saw him. "I had borrowed silver in my pocket and I hadn't made too many friends aboard ship so I decided to stay in Cyprus for a while."
"Speaking of which..." Much held out his hand with a look of scepticism on his face.
"Much!" Carter shot an incredulous look at his squire. "We are trapped in this village with the enemy surrounding us and you are concerned about money."
"Trust me. I'm good for it," Brooks replied. "Anyway, next thing I knew, I met up with the charming men you guys rescued me from the day before and found myself a guest of the 'Saracen Inn'."
"The what?" the former outlaw cut in.
"They put him in a Turk prison camp, Much," Carter explained. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Brooks smiled. "I didn't stay there long. Thanks to Abrahim."
"Abrahim?" Much crossed his arms.
"Abdullah the Jailer's son. Beautiful young man and if I may say so, excellent..."
"Can we have the short version, Charles?"
"Spoilsport!" Brooks shot an impatient look at the knight.
"He came to me one night and asked to run away with me in exchange for my freedom."
"He helped you escape?"
"He died helping me escape," Brooks sobered.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Much placed a hand on the yeoman's shoulder.
"Thanks. His father caught us. Abrahim was to be married off that week. It was a double insult for his father to not only catch his son helping the enemy escape, but to admit to his father he was also in love with him." He looked up at the two soldiers, his eyes glistening. "He ran his own son through right in front of me. I don't know what happened next but I was standing over the jailer's headless body screaming. I grabbed what Saracen clothes I could find and ran into the desert."
"How did you get here?" Carter asked.
"I travelled with the regiments in disguise, stayed on the edges, listened to their conversations." Brooks nodded to the window, "Got wind the other night that they had two of the King's private guard holed up here. Decided to see if I could do something to help." He grinned. "If I knew it was you two I would have brought more wine." He pulled out a silver flask and knocked back a shot offering it to his companions.
"Incorrigible!" Much snorted as he took the offered canteen.
"Yeah. I am and save some for Carter!" Brooks admonished. "I heard your little love story. I can't wait to meet this Robin fellow." He turned to the knight. "So, you boys are near death and he's talking about the ex."
"Robin is not my... How did you get in here?"
"I have a horse tied up in the alley." The yeoman smirked. "Play your cards right and you two might find yourselves getting away on it."
A/N: Much, Carter and Brooks' adventure continues later in "Big Damn Hero"
Now back to the outlaws!