Writer's Block: Fixing the past.

2008-06-01T22:25:01Z

I wouldn't go back to fix anything, because even if it was regrettable, I wouldn't change who I am or what I've become. Part of life is regrets and learning, and I look forward to where my choices will take me.

Lavender and Buttercups

2008-06-01T21:54:28Z

Disclaimer: I don’t own Robin Hood. That honor belongs to BBC and Tiger Aspect.

It was a beautiful sunrise promising clear skies, a rarity itself in Nottingham and Much could not hold back either the smile or the piercing whistled tune that broke forth from them. Richard was finally home, England was safe from Prince John and the Sheriff and he was still alive, with a belly full of pork nonetheless. Sacrifices made throughout the years had aged the man beyond what one would expect from normal hardships, but the thought of a certain maid named Eve reignited the sparkle in his friendly eyes. Memories of hunger were forgotten in lieu of wheaten hair and river-blue eyes. Scars stopped throbbing in remembered pain as his lips instead felt a cool softness and arms unconsciously twitched to surround the dream specter of his lost love.

As his grin widened to unnatural proportions, he performed an odd sort of hop-skip, feeling like the young lad he had forgotten existed. Wooing was a new adventure for him, and a battle he planned to win. His steps were hurried as various strategies were devised in his panicked mind. He thought belatedly of his empty hands, he needed a peace offering to this woman he hadn’t seen since she risked her life for him. It’s a well known fact that to arrive at the place of your lady love and propose empty-handed is nothing more than a dunderheaded gaffe. Thus, Much decided to pick some of the wildflowers that lay at the edge of the forest outside the misguided village of Nettlestone. He remembered a particularly fragrant patch of lavender not far from a field that housed dozens of buttercups. Just like her hair, he thought as he found and picked the prettiest he could see.

A quick, imperceptible nod of accomplishment to his-self and Much was off once again, for a few steps only before nostalgia overtook his original purpose. Much detoured into the heart of Sherwood Forest, remembered frenzied running taking his feet exactly where he wanted to go. Not quite an hour later found him in front of a mound of leaves and a stone wherein lay a hidden lever. Triggering the catch Much opened the door to his most recent home to truly say goodbye. Though he was mocked for his sentimentality, mostly by Allan and even Robin, Much felt he had never really appreciated the abode at the time. It had been a roof over their heads keeping out the rain and cold, and one of the few steadfast things in their lives. Now he felt he was ready to leave it and that life behind. The disuse was starting to show in the two months since it was vacated from the thin layer of dust on the pallets and the small mound of fungus in the kitchen. The flowers were laid aside with care as Much set about tidying the forest den, the occasional song and whispered story to keep him company.

With one final farewell to the dwelling, Much brushed his hands across tearing eyes and strode off to Eve and his future. The sun was well up in the sky by now and the flowers were faithfully standing tall. Excitement hurried and his steps and he arrived at the village Robin had located for him. He asked around the village for Eve and was soon rewarded by a kind woman mending a blanket in front of her cottage. So with a sigh and a straightening of the back, Much turned left at the old oak tree and soon came to a tidy little thatched hut with a nearby chicken coop and a small vegetable garden in the back. Minutes were spent just gazing at the scene, unbelieving that his dreams for the past year were to soon come to fruition. The soft sound of humming brought his eyes towards the road where his blond angel was walking towards him, a bucket of water in her hands. Running shaking hands through his cap-less hair, Much cursed his lack of hair-cut. It hadn’t seemed important at the time what with King Richard visiting and the rewards and the functions to attend, but now he wanted Eve to see him as the regal Lord of Bonchurch rather than the Outlaw look he was still semi-sporting.

He watched, fingers clenched around the flowers, as a look of recognition crossed her features. A shy smile came next followed by a quick brush of fallen hair strands behind her ear. She did not run to him, but kept the same sedate pace, never once looking away from his face. In mere moments, she glided to a halt in front of him. While Much searched for any words, all of which had suddenly escaped, Eve put down the water jug and examined his face. With a sly smile, she dipped into a curtsy.

“Welcome, my lord.”

“Eve,” was all he could muster for a response.

Warm cerulean glanced quickly at him before a different, welcoming smile replaced her last.

“It is good to see you again. I have often wondered how you fared.”

“Really? Well, we’re all still alive which is bloody miraculous if you think about it, and Robin is back in Locksley. Allan is to be appointed the new Sheriff if you can believe it. But that’s right, you never met him. How is your mother? I myself am the Lord of Bonchurch again. She is still beautiful, my home. And you, you are still….” he babbled. Laughing now, she shook her head at him and softly grabbed his arm to lead him inside.

“Beautiful,” he finished, clumsily exchanging the bucket for the flowers using the action as an excuse to lean closer, inhaling the scent of flour, sweat and clover.

The inside was tiny but tidy, filled with the scent of drying herbs and bread. Motioning Much to a rough-hewn table, she sliced the bread and slathered on some honey from a small wooden pot. Setting the sweet treat in front of her guest, she didn’t sit down until after the kettle had been filled and placed over the embers to heat. Silence filled the room while Much stuffed his face politely.

“I remember how much you liked honey,” she explained.

“I do” he responded around the food, and then before he could stop himself, blurted, “Is that a euphemism?”

Her quizzical, pert face was all he needed to go into his practiced speech.

“The war is finally over, both in the Holy Land and here at home. I have been granted the lands of Bonchurch and honored by King Richard himself. The only thing I am missing is a wife to come home to; who would bring laughter and song to the manor. You have been in my thoughts and dreams since first we met, and I would be honored if you would become my wife. I love you, Eve.”

Belatedly, Much remembered the actions that were to accompany the speech, and quickly got off the chair only to fall on his knees in front of her and take one of her strong, calloused hands in his.

“Oh, Much,” was the answer.

“Is that a yes? A no? Anything you want, I can get it for you. There’s Robin, and did I mention King Richard? He personally commended me. And, and….”

“I’m married.”

Much remembered injuries in the Holy Lands; had seen comrades fall, anxiously hovered over his master through several near deadly incidents, and had seen Marian die. While his heart had cracked with pain, Much had survived with the plucky logic and stubbornness he was known for. Survival was about harsh realities, and never had this lesson been as painful or real as now.

“His name is Matthew,” she continued. “We met over a year ago. He is a farmer; a good, kind man, like you. He will be home from the fields soon. I’d…we’d…..like you to stay for dinner. You’ll have to catch me up with the news and tell me about Robin and your other friends, like this new sheriff.”

After a pregnant pause, Much just nodded his head, dumfounded. A small part of his conscious recognized this as the closest he had ever come to passing up a free meal. Eve patted his hand, and got up to start preparing the meal. Much was still unable to take his eyes off the now married woman, and contented himself with the view. As thrown as he was, it was rare for Much to be unable to carry a conversation.

“Any children?” he asked.

“Not yet,” was the reply.

“Are you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

It was at this question that Eve stopped her chores and turned around, her face devoid of any recognizable emotion.

“You were gone. My mother and I had to leave Bonchurch for safety. I had no idea if I would ever see you again. And then one day I met Matthew, and he taught me that I didn’t have be alone, that we could take care of each other. It was a new experience, relying on someone else, and we have managed well. He is a strong man, and I feel in love with him before I could stop myself.”

“I could have been that man for you.”

“I know. Well, I suspect it would have been like that. You were my first love, Much; someone who taught me to care about others, to have a cause beyond my own survival. I do not regret falling in love with you. I do not blame or curse you for your absence for you were needed for a higher cause. My life is what it is, and I would not change it. Even if it meant I could end up with you.” Here, she looked at him with resolute eyes and a firmed chin.

“And if I thought you were my higher cause? If there were times when I considered walking away from the group, away from Robin, for you; or that your name was both a battle-cry and whispers in the night?”

“I don’t deserve those words from you, my lord,” she began.

“Stop,” he interrupted, trying to hold back the sob.

Much was saved the necessity of continuing by a hesitant hello at the door. Swiping his eyes quickly Much turned to see a tall, reedy man with dirty blond hair and small brown eyes. A tidy beard hid thin lips that quirked into a lopsided smile as he stared at Eve.

“Evening. Eve, is your friend joining us for dinner?”

“He is. I would like you to meet Lord Much of Bonchurch, a hero of the Crusades and caretaker of all.”

“So this is the infamous Much. I’ve heard of the kindness you showed my wife and others. You are most welcome in our home.”

“Thank you, but I was actually just leaving. It is a bit of a journey home. If I leave now, I can make it back not long after nightfall.”

“I understand, but if you ever find yourself here again, we would be honored to have you visit.”

“Again, thank you. It was, it was nice seeing you again, Eve. If you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask. Your wife once saved the lives of my friends and me. We owe her quite a debt.”

“That was my debt to you, for everything. Goodbye, Much. Live a happy life, you are the most deserving man of any reward nature has planned for you.”

A small kiss on the cheeks was his final farewell as Much nodded goodbye to Matthew and started back home. Eve had already guessed that their paths would never meet again unless an emergency arose, it was just too painful. The journey would be longer with his feet trudging, but he knew at the end of it would be Bonchurch. And beyond that, there was Robin, his one constant. His best friend would never question the late night visit, at least not right away, and had a large cellar of fine wines and meade made for forgetting. And though their relationship was constantly evolving throughout the years, Much thinks that he understands the post-Marian Robin more than ever before.

aubs10it

Writer's Block: Fixing the past.

Lavender and Buttercups