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Herblore

Summary:

It was a game that they played. Guy chased, Robin laughed. Arrows were exchanged, sometimes they met with swords and armor, but no one was hurt. No one had to die because of it. Because Guy kept them from getting too close, because he showed Vaisey that he was on the trail but too inept to complete his task and Vaisey was too proud to get his own hands dirty. Guy would take the punishment for it, but no one got hurt. No one.

Notes:

Oh geez I took so many liberties with this. And I totally don't care. I only just started watching the series and the characters popped up in my head and said no, this is the way it is. So I'd say that this is possibly AU and that I don't really care, it's the way it is. :D :D :D ...Dammit muses.

Work Text:

Locking the door to his bedroom was the only peace Guy of Gisborne would receive tonight. It only remained his refuge when it wasn't being invaded and remained solely his. Of course, that excluded the window; but to climb in the window was to scale the side of the castle and only one person would dare to do that just to see Gisborne did it out of necessity.

In fact, Guy wasn't counting on seeing Robin that night. It was a long, exhausting day. His body was sore, he longed for his bed. Sir Guy was strong, he wasn't a spoiled noble who found riding from village to village to be exhausting--he'd had to fight his way to his position and earn respect with blood and sweat. The bruises on his back were evidence enough as he pulled off his old shirt in exchange for a new one, but before he could pull it over his head, he was alerted to the sound of the window.

Robin was already in his room by the time he turned around and he pulled the shirt over his head, covering the bruises before he reached out for his arm. Guy's injuries weren't the only ones, and they weren't the most severe. But Robin's stupid, boyish smile shown through the whole time.

"What are you doing here?" Guy physically moved him back to sit on his bed. "You shouldn't be here, not after today."

"I wanted to see you," Robin said. He could barely stand but he'd scaled the castle wall just to get in, through the Sheriff's increased guard garrison on the city. "I saw you take that fall, I wanted to make certain you were all right."

As Robin started to tug at the edge of his shirt, trying to see under it to the bruises he'd so likely seen on his way in, Guy slapped his hand down. The dark spot on the side of Robin's clothes was evidence enough that what ever bandages they'd scrounged for in the forest weren't enough. "I'm fine. You're not, you shouldn't be here."

Any other time, he would have welcomed Robin taking off his clothes, but not tonight. He brought a hand up to the side of Robin's neck, sliding his thumb across his cheek, and he kissed him hastily and not without a note of neediness. Guy needed to know that Robin was all right too, only he wasn't. Not the way that Robin rested his forehead against his, the way his skin felt too warm and the blaze in his eyes that said that fever was already setting in.

"Your concern is touching," Robin murmured. "I'm fine. I can handle a few scrapes." Guy doubted it though, but Robin didn't protest nearly as much as he did as Guy pulled his shirt up to look at the soaked bandages. "I didn't think your men had the heart or the accurate to actually hurt anything."

Guy pealed back the bandages and tossed them onto the floor. "That's been dealt with. You're doing yourself more harm than good, you need to get this clean."

The expression on Robin's face fell some and he kept his eyes on Guy, even if the man avoided him in favor of pulling his shirt off and preparing the wound. "What do you mean, 'dealt with'. Guy, what did you do?"

The way Robin's hand found its way to stop his arm brought Guy's attention back to his face. The Prince of Thieves knew what it was to be a soldier but he wouldn't harm for sport, or even for vengeance unless it was well-deserved.

"They're not to hurt you," Guy said. "And he won't be a concern of yours any longer."

"Did you kill a man for doing his job? For following your orders to arrest me?" Robin's voice turned hard. It was a game that they played. Guy chased, Robin laughed. Arrows were exchanged, sometimes they met with swords and armor, but no one was hurt. No one had to die because of it. Because Guy kept them from getting too close, because he showed Vaisey that he was on the trail but too inept to complete his task and Vaisey was too proud to get his own hands dirty. Guy would take the punishment for it, but no one got hurt. No one.

Guy didn't answer. He smoothed his hands over Robin's shoulders. "Your wound needs to be cleansed. You will stay here, right here, and I'll take care of it. You shouldn't have come here tonight." But he was glad that Robin did. He risked another kiss before he stood up more. "I'll be back soon. Stay here."

The smirk on Robin's face was the defiance he expected out of the order to stay, but as it faded he knew that Robin would stay and that was just a testament to how badly he was feeling. No one got hurt and no one would again.

 

The bath water was only luke warm because he didn't want to encourage the fever, but he didn't want it to be uncomfortable either. Robin wasn't burning yet, but he certainly wasn't himself. Not the way that he rested his head against Guy's shoulder as Guy helped him undress. It left him with a feeling of unease settling in the pit of his stomach. They had fallen into a comfortable existence. Guy wasn't ready to upset yet.

He helped Robin to step into the water and quickly stripped his own clothes off, tossing them on the bed, and stepping in behind him. As he helped Robin to settle without jarring his side, he was aware of how much of a tight fit two men in the bath really was. Guy's long legs were cramped, but Robin was much smaller and he wasn't putting up any protest.

"I don't have any lavender for you," he murmured into Robin's ear, leaning him back against his chest.

Robin hummed, his eyes looking heavy and tired. The bath smelled of chamomile instead, and ginger, and others that blended together. "At least I managed to get you to take an extra bath."

"Very funny." Guy of Gisborne was not known to be a tender man, but no one else viewed him with his lover. No one else could see the way he ran the sponge over Robin's shoulders and how gentle he tried to be with the wound on his side. It had sealed, though the water made the edges pink and puckered, but the herbs needed to infuse. "You're staying tonight since you're here. I'll get you out in the morning."

Two men bathing together had much erotic tones. Guy couldn't deny that the chase had increased his desire. He wanted to feel his lover and spend one of the nights together that they had so infrequently. But Robin didn't need that now, he had to wait. Guy wasn't a man of patience either. Robin seemed to bring out the qualities he thought that Vaisey had destroyed a long time ago.

 

His bed was empty in the morning. Guy had bandaged the wound much more thoroughly, been satisfied by the way that Robin slept next to him, but the place was cold and empty come first light. It still smelled of chamomile and ginger. Robin would smell like him now instead of lavender and rose petals.

By the next night, the scent was nearly gone and by the third, he couldn't remember it anymore. Three days since there had been any sightings of Robin of Hood and his Merry Band. Had it been any other time, Guy wouldn't be so concerned, but he kept playing the way that Robin leaned against him in exhaustion and the heat of his skin over in his head. It was only by the third day that Guy could escape the city with a legitimate excuse and seek out someone who might know something more.

Sir Guy could handle a battlefield, he could handle leading men, but he was no tracker and though he grew up in these woods for a time, the same as Robin, he didn't know them nearly as well. But Marian did. He could go to her house without so much as a blink from the Sheriff, but that conversation would be difficult. He knew that the moment she opened the door and the way her eyes hardened when she saw him.

"I need your help."

 

Confessions. Something else that wasn't his strong suit. If Guy wasn't so proud, he'd admit he had a fair amount of shortcomings. Sometimes pride was one of the few things he thought he had left, and some days not even that.

"I know you know where he is, I know you've seen him," Guy said, planting a hand above the empty fire place. He wouldn't approach her; it already made him feel vulnerable and so far Marian's expression hadn't changed. "You have to understand, I've brought no one else with me. They have no way of knowing where I've gone. They can't track me."

"I don't know what you're talking about-.."

"Yes you do!" He dropped his hand to his side, stepping toward her in rage out of concern that she stepped back too. Guy breathed in, settling his temper. "Yes you do. You don't understand, Marian, I-.. He came to me, three nights ago. It's bad, isn't it?"

"I don't know where he is, Sir Guy. If I did, I would help you." Marian was stubborn too and more than he cared to deal with at present. That was enough to spur the confession out of him, that and desperation.

"I have feelings for him," he said quickly. "Do you think that was the first time he's come to see me? Or I him?" He gave a bitter laugh and one not without pain. "I thought you would be relieved to know that you are not the object of my affections, Marian."

Perhaps he imagined the relief in her face because her expression didn't change. But her words did. "If what you say is true, Sir Guy, then why do you not stop the Sheriff yourself?"

The question that Robin had been asking him since his return, that Guy was asking himself. Vaisey was a power none of them understood and all of them underestimated. "Do not ask me to tell you that. Please. Just take me to him. I'm unarmed, I've brought no men with me. You have my word."

She must have been practiced at being unreadable and he was starting to become convinced that his confession, his urgency was falling on deaf ears. "But how much is your word worth, Sir Guy?" she asked.

"Everything I am," he answered.

 

He wore her father's cloak, the hood pulled low over his face to cover even his nose, and he followed her until she stopped. If they saw him, they'd kill him without a second's hesitation and without Robin to stop them. "This is where I saw them last," she whispered to him. "Don't make any sudden movements, don't fight them. He was too sick to even be taken to one of the villages, they wouldn't risk it."

She'd been taking them supplies instead but it wasn't enough. The look on John's face was evidence of that as they appeared out of the trees, but while he was pleased to see her, he was less than pleased that she brought someone with her. None of them lowered their weapons and only John walked closer. Guy risked a glance up to see them and quickly lowered his head. John Little, Will Scarlet in tow and Allan a Dale. The manservant must still be with his master, but someone had to watch over the camp and John was not as inviting a host as Robin.

"I've brought a healer," Marian said as she reached for John's arm to stop him. "Please, trust me. You will not like it, but trust me because Robin does."

John only narrowed his eyes, her words not instilling confidence already. "You ask me to trust a man when I cannot see his face?" But then the pause and John's voice changed quickly to anger. "Who did you bring to us, Marian?"

Guy tensed and wanted to make to defend himself but he had to stop, he had to stand down. Even as John grabbed him. Even as John pulled the hood down and his rage was suddenly focused on him. He didn't even flinch as John pressed his blade against Guy's throat.

"You brought Gisborne to us!"

"No, John, wait! Please wait!" Marian grabbed his arm, perhaps not even trying to pull him back, just still him from making any further move. "He's here to help. John, he can help Robin. Please let him through."

"I'm not here to hurt anyone," Guy said quickly.

John shoved him back against a tree, replacing the blade at his throat with his forearm. "I don't want to hear a word from you!" he snapped. "He'll have the Sheriff's men on us any time now. We have to move the whole camp!"

It was Marian's stubbornness that saved them, and saved Robin too. She pushed John's shoulder to bring his attention to her and not to Guy. "John. You have to listen to him. You have to believe his story. Robin trusts him, John."

The pressure against Guy's throat lessened as John's grip on him slackened, but as soon as it had gone, the rage reappeared. "I don't have to listen to him," he said, and brought the hilt of his sword down on the side of Guy's head.

 

"You are very handsome, you know."

Guy turned his head away, not masking the scowl as it came to him.

"Ah, no.. don't be like that." Vaisey took hold of his chin, bringing Guy's face back to him. "Everything you are is because of me. You even belong to me." His smile turned hot as he rubbed his thumb over Guy's lower lip. It was a struggle to remain still, but he couldn't move or he'd pay the price for it. "Such a pretty mouth too. Such smooth lips."

His wrists were already raw from ropes but he still twisted his hands around them. Guy of Gisborne trusted Vaisey before he was given the power to rule over Nottingham as its dictator, and to his credit, Vaisey had been good to him. Or Guy thought he'd been good to him. Perhaps it was the introduction of a corrupting power, or it was the ownership that pushed Vaisey's advances over the edge. He pulled his head back again.

"No..stop." Vaisey growled at him, grabbing him by his throat with enough emphasis to make Guy swallow his pride and listen. "I made you here, Gisborne. You were nothing without me and I own you. If you do not do as I say, then, I won't be responsible for the consequences."

His smile turned sweet again. Vaisey's words wound their way around manipulation and turned into honey in the ears of his victims. At least unless he was angry. He let go, stroked Guy's hair in a soothing manner. "There you are. I trust you to do everything I set before you. You're very good at your job. Now I have another one for you." Vaisey leaned closer to him, his voice turning hushed. "Down on your knees, Gisborne."

It was Much dripping water onto the side of Guy's face where he was laying on the leaves of the forest floor, and the pounding and the way the water dripped down onto his lips was what woke him up. It was an easier waking than if they had tossed a bucket of water on him which he was certain John would rather do, but as soon as he opened his eyes, Much took a step back.

"Thirsty? That's all you get," he said, taking a drink from the water skin himself. Against a tree nearby, Allan simply chuckled but made a show of the knife in his hand.

Guy tried to sit up and amid the pounding in his skull from the blow with John's sword, he was aware of the rawness of his wrists and the rope wound tightly around them.

You were nothing without me and I own you.

He pulled at the ropes. "Untie me!"

"Now, now, settle down.. no reason to get upset," Much said. "It's only for your own protection."

"I said untie me. I came here of my own free will, I'm not under orders, now untie me!" Guy shot back, wishing he had brought a weapon with him. He'd make the manservant eat that waterskin if he had his way.

Allan didn't make a move and Much looked only vaguely nervous, but Marian stormed over to them from the camp and she was the savior at last. "Allan, cut him free. We need him."

"But, John said-.."

"John is wrong. We need him, cut him loose," Marian replied. Allan did as he was told, but Marian was the one to hold a hand out to him. She was the one with more contact with Guy, other than Robin. She helped him stand and held out the pouch of herbs John had found on his person when they dragged him to the camp. "Now you'll make good on your word, and if you don't then John has his way."

A slow smirk crept onto his face that wasn't even shot down by Marian's glare. "Oh. Anything but that."

 

They had constructed a small tent between two trees to give him some shelter and the fire nearby for warmth, but Robin still slept fitfully. He would wake during the day and sometimes be coherent and sometimes not. Much was the authority on the matter since he'd seen Robin fight off fever in the Holy Land but he was no healer and he could only watch and remember.

In fact, Much stayed close even as Guy stripped the old bandages from the angry, red wound. They brought him boiled water and he added the herbs, the scent of chamomile and ginger seemed to make Robin rest easier.

"How did you learn all of this?" The others watched with cautious eyes, but Much was still the most curious. "How do we even know this will kill the fever and not make it worse?"

"Chamomile to make him sleep." He dipped a rag in the water and laid it across Robin's forehead. "Feverfew and yarrow for the fever. Ginger and peppermint for the infection. That is all you get to know," he said. "I have my ways."

Much made a noise and just nodded his head, throwing a look at John, but no one else moved. They just watched Guy bathing the wound, wrapping strips of herb-ladden cloth over it and letting it sit until it dried. There was no change right away, but by morning, he told them.

Guy was reluctant to part with the herb pouch, but he held it out to Much. "Bathe the wound three times tomorrow and the next day until the redness stops. Don't take his blood, it carries infection. He needs to fight it himself."

 

They let him stay, though John still seemed put off by the idea of Guy of Gisborne as a healer. But with the peacefulness that Robin finally had in his sleep, Marian was convinced enough to hold John off and let Guy stay the night in their camp. At least he could watch over Robin one more night before he had to go again.

So it was when Robin woke in the middle of the night with a clear head for the first time in days, it was Guy that he saw first. Guy's head resting against his shoulder, his body keeping Robin warm, their hands twined together.

Robin lifted their hands, kissing the back of Guy's and eliciting a stir from him. "I had a dream you'd come."

Guy breathed out slowly, not wanting to open his eyes and find John staring down at them and ready to rip Guy away from Robin. He wasn't ready to let go yet. But John was asleep. "I had worse dreams."

"You always do," Robin said. "But this dream.. this dream is perfect. I wish it would last."

Guy did open his eyes this time; he kissed the side of Robin's neck and felt satisfied that his skin was getting cooler. "So do I," he whispered.

His voice was on the breeze when Robin woke the next morning but his side was cold. It was a dream, it had been the wind talking to him all night, hadn't it, and the fire keeping him warm. He might have believed it except for the look on John's face of mixed emotions and the declaration that as soon as Robin was ready, they needed to move the camp and find a new place to rest.

 

Some hours after, Sir Guy led his men into the forest accompanied by Vaisey with the promise of results. The camp was empty, the fire was depeted and cold, the tent was gone again. Vaisey looked bored as Guy slid down from his horse and waved a hand over the old fire pit.

"They were here last night. The smoke was visible from the road at least," he reported.

"And here I thought you were bringing me results." Vaisey stifled a dramatic yawn. "Ah, well. We can't all be perfect, can we, Gisborne?"

"They can't have gotten far." Heading back for his horse, Guy stopped short, looking up at the Sheriff. But Vaisey just looked contemplative.

"Sweep the forest. Find them. They must be limping if they're risking a camp several days in a row," he said, slowly offering a rewarding smile. Even in the view of the men, he ran his hand across Guy's head, smoothing his hair down. "Well done. Now, find them. Make me proud."

Guy took his horse's reins and climbed back into the saddle. He'd lead them through the forest, try to find some kind of trail. He'd bring back results. But before they left the camp, he grabbed an arrow sticking out of one of the trees as if he was just brushing a branch aside. Robin always left him something and he'd lead the men in circles until they were ready to start up their game again.