Title: A Little Dream
by Amy Fortuna
Pairing: Robin/Much
Rating: Uhm, probably PG.
Summary: Robin has a little dream, one he doesn't talk about.
Feedback: OMG please.
Disclaimer: Do I look like the BBC? The only stake I have in Robin Hood is the bit where I pay TV licence fees, and that doesn't count.
Notes: This was written really quickly, but it is basically my attempt at a...well, slightly more realistic look at how a twelfth century romance between two males would go.

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Robin has a little dream, one he keeps quietly to himself, and anticipates, with somewhat more than standard eagerness, putting into practice. It comforts him in the barren land, the desert wastes, of the Holy Land.

His dream is simply this: Marian his wife, a houseful of children, happy, hard-working peasants on his land who love, respect, and look up to him, who he treats with the dignity befitting one of true nobility. And every once in a while, oftener as the years go by, taking his horse and riding alone down to Bonchurch to meet with an old and very dear friend.

Much, in the prime of life, happy and healthy himself, also with a wife and children (though their faces are dim in Robin's mind) greeting him with joy, and both of them riding together into the forest to spend the day, sitting under a great oak tree, arms clasped round each other's waists as befits brothers in arms, sharing talk of the old days long past. Much's hands, worn with age, but strong and hearty, Much's eyes, looking into his, the comfort of his body fitting so close to Robin's. Free men, indeed, now noblemen both, taking their ease on a midsummer's day, feeling the years fall away as the ale is quaffed and the laughter grows louder.

It is there the dream grows dim. What Robin wants he cannot quite grasp, it exists just beyond his ken, and so he settles for the images he can remember.

The feel of Much's lips, soft against his forehead, those few days ago when Robin was pierced by a spear in the side, when his armor, heavy as it was, could not protect him. Those hands that caressed his nightmare-encased flesh as another knight pulled the spear away. The fact that every time Robin opened his eyes throughout those first few days, Much had been there, fallen asleep next to him in the night, their hands clasped, changing dressings and making sure Robin had the best of every care during the day.

Something like that, but without the wound to worry him. And something more, something that shivered through him when he awoke to find Much pressed against him, the warmth of their bodies so close. The passing strange urge to lean across and touch those lips with his own, the feel of his body awakening, stirring, and not knowing why.

The dream will suffice, for now. And Robin will waste no time putting it into action. A life filled with happiness, contentment, peace, that indeed they both deserved, Much's happiness more than anything.

Silence except for the wind whipping sand surrounds Robin as he lies in his tent, all the men gone to the battlefield. Much will return in a few moments after fetching water for Robin's healing wound, and Robin will tell him then, two things Much will find most pleasing: you are free, and we are leaving.

END