Denial II, Chapter 1: Saving Allan
Title: Denial II, Chapter 1: Saving Allan
Authors: darkentwisted , jagnikjen , perteltote , robinfanatic , wastingyourgum
Characters/Pairings: Allan, Will/Djaq, Robin, Little John, Legrand, Much/Carter, Richard
Rating:PG-13
Genre: Drama
Words: 1640
Warnings: none really...
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe
Notes: Beta'd by teamlavender . Takes place at the end of 2x13. Introduction and chapter links for DII are here...
Summary: Allan was seriously wounded defending Marian and King Richard from Guy's attack. Can Djaq save him?
>>------------------->
Chapter 1: Saving Allan
It had come down to a scene so unimaginable that no one dared move. Djaq cradled Allan's head in her arms. He lay unconscious, his tunic red, soaked with blood that trickled into the hot desert sands. Will had one hand on Djaq's shoulder, the other propping the sword that pierced Allan's gut. Legrand and Carter stood on either side of King Richard. The Lionheart remained stone-faced, masking his own pain from the arrow that nearly took his life. As soldiers, they'd each seen comrades fall time and again but it was the look on Much's face, the glistening of Little John's eyes, as the two men looked from Allan to Robin that brought the ugly truth home to them all.
Robin stared past them, despondent, as the dust settled where Vaizey and Gisborne had fled on horseback with Marian's body. He'd lost her...again.
And Allan A'Dale lay dying, taking a sword meant for the king. Allan, whom they'd despised.
"Is there nothing we can do for him?" Legrand asked.
Robin shook his head. "We can't move him to get him to the healer's tent. The sword is too heavy. If it moves...he dies."
"What if the sword doesn't move?" John answered, almost unthinking.
"That would be impossible. It would take..." Djaq's face brightened. "It would take two men of great strength to hold him and the sword steady while we moved him."
Legrand smiled at his companions. "He will die here if we do nothing, mes amis. Let us try. Will - can you fetch my armour from that house, please?"
Will nodded and ran off.
Djaq pulled off her head scarf and wrapped both Allan and the sword as much as possible and directed John and Legrand on how they should hold him. Will and Much would take turns holding the sword.
Will returned with Legrand's chain hauberk slung over his shoulder and wearing a broad smile. "Look what I found." He stepped aside to reveal a small cart.
"You didn't just make that, did you?" Much asked wide-eyed.
Will smiled. "No, Much, I didn't - but it had a broken wheel which I fixed. That's probably why it was left here."
"Thank you, my love - that will make things so much easier - and so much safer for Allan." Djaq orchestrated the entire operation as Allan was carefully lifted onto the cart and placed on his side.
Slowly and carefully they made their way across the desert. Since they no longer had to carry Allan, Legrand held the hilt of the sword as steady as his strength would allow while John held Allan's back.
Much and Carter spurred their horses ahead as they approached the camp. The king and Robin trailed close behind.
Voices rang out when the first guards spotted them. "Carter! Much! James is dead and the king is missing. No one knows where he is."
Richard's voice sounded strong and sure from behind them. "He is here - alive and well thanks to Locksley and his friends. Let them pass." Richard held his arm awkwardly but sat straight in his saddle, showing no sign of the pain he was in.
When the gang arrived at the makeshift hospital, Rahiim shook his head in disbelief. "The graveyard is over there. Do not waste my time."
"He lives," Djaq spat in her native tongue.
The old man examined the wound then rattled back, "If he does not die from blood loss, he will be dead by morning from fever."
"Then I have nothing to lose," Djaq reasoned. "Give me a bed and the use of your tools. I will place the rest in Allah's hands."
>>-------------------->
Will had never seen so much blood before, and he had never seen the inside of another person, much less a close friend. "How much longer?" He held several inches of Allan's intestine and was about to lose his breakfast.
Allan had slipped in and out of consciousness but had finally, mercifully, passed out from the unbelievable pain as Djaq rummaged through his organs for any signs of damage.
"He is very lucky; nothing major was hit from what I can tell," Djaq said as she sewed up layers of muscle and vessel. "If Guy had better aim, he would have died instantly." She glanced at Will. "It is almost as if he hesitated. I think he wanted to miss." Her deft fingers closed the last wound with a quick tug at the sinew. "There. Now maybe he will live a few more days." She dressed the jagged wounds.
Will looked down at his fingers stained with his friend's blood. "What do we do now?"
"Pray to your God, my love. Pray for either a swift end to his suffering or for him to live."
>>-------------------->
Robin paced back and forth in front of the healer's tent, lost in his own thoughts. Little John held his head in his hands and stared into the fire. Legrand summoned the strength to remain on his feet after his own close call with death. He stood at the entrance of the tent, anxiously shifting his gaze between the work Djaq performed and his friends outside.
Much held back low sobs as he lay against Carter's shoulder. "I hated Allan. I hated him for what he did. I worried he might tell the sheriff about the camp and betray the gang." He sighed heavily. "I wanted him dead."
Robin shot much an angry look. "Shut it, Much."
"No. Let him speak," Carter said. "You, better than anyone, should know this is how he sorts things out." He looked at Much. "You didn't cause this, Much. No more than you put that sword in Gisborne's hand."
"But I thought it, and thinking it is the same as causing it," Much said.
"Then I am as guilty as you," John said quietly.
Much shook his head. "I should have been there. I should have saved Allan...saved Marian."
"Then who would have saved me?" Carter puzzled.
Much looked up, conflicted. "No, I didn't mean..."
Carter smiled and rubbed Much's shoulder. "I know you didn't. I was just teasing. I'm going to check on the king." He walked away as Much looked after him in confusion.
"Trouble in paradise?" Robin snorted.
Much glared. "Where were you when that man in there was fighting to save your wife?"
"Much," John said as he stood up. "No...."
"No, John, I want to know." Much stared Robin down. "Where were you, Robin?"
"I was fighting. Fighting to save the king. Fighting to save England."
The two men were nose to nose by then. John held Much back as Legrand tugged on Robin's arm.
Robin glowerd. "What were you fighting for, Much?"
Much pulled away from John's grip. "Someone I love. Someone who needs me." He rubbed his arm. "There was a time I would have died for you, Robin. Now I wonder how many more people are going to have to." He stormed off after Carter.
Robin stood gobsmacked.
"He didn't mean it, Robin." John sighed and put a hand on the younger man's shoulder.
"Didn't he, John?" Robin replied. He shrugged off John's hand and walked away.
"He's hurting. We're all hurting--"
Robin whirled around, eyes glittering with anger. "And I'm not? Marian is dead. My wife - is dead, John. Every hope...every dream...the life we should have had...gone forever."
Legrand stepped next to Little John and said, "I am sorry, Robin."
Djaq appeared at the entrance of the tent and all eyes turned to her.
"Is he--" John couldn't bring himself to finish the question.
"I have done everything I can." Her gaze fell on Robin. "The wound is bad."
"How many of my friends have to die helping me, Djaq?" Robin asked quietly, taking Much's accusation to heart. He looked at each of them, his sadness suddenly masked by a face of indifference, a face that shut them all out.
"Robin--"
"Goodnight," Robin said abruptly. "Wake me if...if there is any news, good or bad."
John watched Robin wheel away and wondered if he shouldn't follow. Perhaps it was best that he be left alone. He never was one for talking.
"Djaq," John said as Will peeked his head out of the tent, "you look exhausted. Please - Will - tell her to go rest."
"I am fine, John."
"John's right," Will said.
"Very well. I am tired and I will rest," Djaq replied. "Would you take turns sitting with Allan? Watch for signs of fever. It would be good to talk to him."
"Talk?" Legrand asked curiously. "He's not conscious."
"I believe that even the unconscious mind is at work and if Allan hears familiar voices, he will know he has friends to come back to." Djaq studied Legrand's face. He was still a bit pale. "Legrand, John will sit with Allan first. You do not look well. You must also rest."
Legrand rolled his eyes. "Femme autoritaire," he muttered.
"Oui, mon chevalier français," she replied with a wink. "Now off to bed with you."
Will wrapped his arm around Djaq's waist and began to lead her away. "Wake me in a couple of hours, John," he called. "I'll take my shift with Allan."
"Goodnight. Sleep well, friends," said Legrand, following Will and Djaq.
John slipped quietly into the tent. Allan lay on the bunk, his face pale and rigid with pain. John took a seat by the bed and ran a damp cloth across Allan's forehead. "Talk to you. She wants us to talk to you. About what?" John planted his hand on top of Allan's, then twined his fingers through his. His eyes widened when he felt Allan's fingers return a barely perceptible squeeze. "Allan? Allan?" he called, a small smile curling the edges of his mouth. "You're going to be all right."
Chapter 2: Men of Letters
Authors: darkentwisted , jagnikjen , perteltote , robinfanatic , wastingyourgum
Characters/Pairings: Allan, Will/Djaq, Robin, Little John, Legrand, Much/Carter, Richard
Rating:PG-13
Genre: Drama
Words: 1640
Warnings: none really...
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe
Notes: Beta'd by teamlavender . Takes place at the end of 2x13. Introduction and chapter links for DII are here...
Summary: Allan was seriously wounded defending Marian and King Richard from Guy's attack. Can Djaq save him?
>>------------------->
Chapter 1: Saving Allan
It had come down to a scene so unimaginable that no one dared move. Djaq cradled Allan's head in her arms. He lay unconscious, his tunic red, soaked with blood that trickled into the hot desert sands. Will had one hand on Djaq's shoulder, the other propping the sword that pierced Allan's gut. Legrand and Carter stood on either side of King Richard. The Lionheart remained stone-faced, masking his own pain from the arrow that nearly took his life. As soldiers, they'd each seen comrades fall time and again but it was the look on Much's face, the glistening of Little John's eyes, as the two men looked from Allan to Robin that brought the ugly truth home to them all.
Robin stared past them, despondent, as the dust settled where Vaizey and Gisborne had fled on horseback with Marian's body. He'd lost her...again.
And Allan A'Dale lay dying, taking a sword meant for the king. Allan, whom they'd despised.
"Is there nothing we can do for him?" Legrand asked.
Robin shook his head. "We can't move him to get him to the healer's tent. The sword is too heavy. If it moves...he dies."
"What if the sword doesn't move?" John answered, almost unthinking.
"That would be impossible. It would take..." Djaq's face brightened. "It would take two men of great strength to hold him and the sword steady while we moved him."
Legrand smiled at his companions. "He will die here if we do nothing, mes amis. Let us try. Will - can you fetch my armour from that house, please?"
Will nodded and ran off.
Djaq pulled off her head scarf and wrapped both Allan and the sword as much as possible and directed John and Legrand on how they should hold him. Will and Much would take turns holding the sword.
Will returned with Legrand's chain hauberk slung over his shoulder and wearing a broad smile. "Look what I found." He stepped aside to reveal a small cart.
"You didn't just make that, did you?" Much asked wide-eyed.
Will smiled. "No, Much, I didn't - but it had a broken wheel which I fixed. That's probably why it was left here."
"Thank you, my love - that will make things so much easier - and so much safer for Allan." Djaq orchestrated the entire operation as Allan was carefully lifted onto the cart and placed on his side.
Slowly and carefully they made their way across the desert. Since they no longer had to carry Allan, Legrand held the hilt of the sword as steady as his strength would allow while John held Allan's back.
Much and Carter spurred their horses ahead as they approached the camp. The king and Robin trailed close behind.
Voices rang out when the first guards spotted them. "Carter! Much! James is dead and the king is missing. No one knows where he is."
Richard's voice sounded strong and sure from behind them. "He is here - alive and well thanks to Locksley and his friends. Let them pass." Richard held his arm awkwardly but sat straight in his saddle, showing no sign of the pain he was in.
When the gang arrived at the makeshift hospital, Rahiim shook his head in disbelief. "The graveyard is over there. Do not waste my time."
"He lives," Djaq spat in her native tongue.
The old man examined the wound then rattled back, "If he does not die from blood loss, he will be dead by morning from fever."
"Then I have nothing to lose," Djaq reasoned. "Give me a bed and the use of your tools. I will place the rest in Allah's hands."
>>-------------------->
Will had never seen so much blood before, and he had never seen the inside of another person, much less a close friend. "How much longer?" He held several inches of Allan's intestine and was about to lose his breakfast.
Allan had slipped in and out of consciousness but had finally, mercifully, passed out from the unbelievable pain as Djaq rummaged through his organs for any signs of damage.
"He is very lucky; nothing major was hit from what I can tell," Djaq said as she sewed up layers of muscle and vessel. "If Guy had better aim, he would have died instantly." She glanced at Will. "It is almost as if he hesitated. I think he wanted to miss." Her deft fingers closed the last wound with a quick tug at the sinew. "There. Now maybe he will live a few more days." She dressed the jagged wounds.
Will looked down at his fingers stained with his friend's blood. "What do we do now?"
"Pray to your God, my love. Pray for either a swift end to his suffering or for him to live."
>>-------------------->
Robin paced back and forth in front of the healer's tent, lost in his own thoughts. Little John held his head in his hands and stared into the fire. Legrand summoned the strength to remain on his feet after his own close call with death. He stood at the entrance of the tent, anxiously shifting his gaze between the work Djaq performed and his friends outside.
Much held back low sobs as he lay against Carter's shoulder. "I hated Allan. I hated him for what he did. I worried he might tell the sheriff about the camp and betray the gang." He sighed heavily. "I wanted him dead."
Robin shot much an angry look. "Shut it, Much."
"No. Let him speak," Carter said. "You, better than anyone, should know this is how he sorts things out." He looked at Much. "You didn't cause this, Much. No more than you put that sword in Gisborne's hand."
"But I thought it, and thinking it is the same as causing it," Much said.
"Then I am as guilty as you," John said quietly.
Much shook his head. "I should have been there. I should have saved Allan...saved Marian."
"Then who would have saved me?" Carter puzzled.
Much looked up, conflicted. "No, I didn't mean..."
Carter smiled and rubbed Much's shoulder. "I know you didn't. I was just teasing. I'm going to check on the king." He walked away as Much looked after him in confusion.
"Trouble in paradise?" Robin snorted.
Much glared. "Where were you when that man in there was fighting to save your wife?"
"Much," John said as he stood up. "No...."
"No, John, I want to know." Much stared Robin down. "Where were you, Robin?"
"I was fighting. Fighting to save the king. Fighting to save England."
The two men were nose to nose by then. John held Much back as Legrand tugged on Robin's arm.
Robin glowerd. "What were you fighting for, Much?"
Much pulled away from John's grip. "Someone I love. Someone who needs me." He rubbed his arm. "There was a time I would have died for you, Robin. Now I wonder how many more people are going to have to." He stormed off after Carter.
Robin stood gobsmacked.
"He didn't mean it, Robin." John sighed and put a hand on the younger man's shoulder.
"Didn't he, John?" Robin replied. He shrugged off John's hand and walked away.
"He's hurting. We're all hurting--"
Robin whirled around, eyes glittering with anger. "And I'm not? Marian is dead. My wife - is dead, John. Every hope...every dream...the life we should have had...gone forever."
Legrand stepped next to Little John and said, "I am sorry, Robin."
Djaq appeared at the entrance of the tent and all eyes turned to her.
"Is he--" John couldn't bring himself to finish the question.
"I have done everything I can." Her gaze fell on Robin. "The wound is bad."
"How many of my friends have to die helping me, Djaq?" Robin asked quietly, taking Much's accusation to heart. He looked at each of them, his sadness suddenly masked by a face of indifference, a face that shut them all out.
"Robin--"
"Goodnight," Robin said abruptly. "Wake me if...if there is any news, good or bad."
John watched Robin wheel away and wondered if he shouldn't follow. Perhaps it was best that he be left alone. He never was one for talking.
"Djaq," John said as Will peeked his head out of the tent, "you look exhausted. Please - Will - tell her to go rest."
"I am fine, John."
"John's right," Will said.
"Very well. I am tired and I will rest," Djaq replied. "Would you take turns sitting with Allan? Watch for signs of fever. It would be good to talk to him."
"Talk?" Legrand asked curiously. "He's not conscious."
"I believe that even the unconscious mind is at work and if Allan hears familiar voices, he will know he has friends to come back to." Djaq studied Legrand's face. He was still a bit pale. "Legrand, John will sit with Allan first. You do not look well. You must also rest."
Legrand rolled his eyes. "Femme autoritaire," he muttered.
"Oui, mon chevalier français," she replied with a wink. "Now off to bed with you."
Will wrapped his arm around Djaq's waist and began to lead her away. "Wake me in a couple of hours, John," he called. "I'll take my shift with Allan."
"Goodnight. Sleep well, friends," said Legrand, following Will and Djaq.
John slipped quietly into the tent. Allan lay on the bunk, his face pale and rigid with pain. John took a seat by the bed and ran a damp cloth across Allan's forehead. "Talk to you. She wants us to talk to you. About what?" John planted his hand on top of Allan's, then twined his fingers through his. His eyes widened when he felt Allan's fingers return a barely perceptible squeeze. "Allan? Allan?" he called, a small smile curling the edges of his mouth. "You're going to be all right."
Chapter 2: Men of Letters