|What Dreams May Come
Author: I am The Lev PM
After Morgan cooks dinner for Much's birthday, the outlaws discover that her cooking is not to be eaten before bed, or at all, for that matter.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Humor - Chapters: 3 - Words: 4,339 - Reviews: 17 - Favs: 4 - Follows: 4 - Updated: 11-18-07 - Published: 11-17-07 - Status: Complete - id: 3896028
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Morgan was trying to pry the Prince of Thieves from one of the camp's support beams. He was hugging it tightly as he slept, refusing to let go as Morgan tried to get him to his bed. She glanced over at Allan, worried that he would be missed if he stayed any longer. She was also worried about what would happen if the gang woke up and Allan was still there. She pulled at Robin's hand again, trying to pull him from the beam.
"C'mon, Robin, let go," she urged, managing to loosen one of his hands. To her dismay, he grabbed her by the wrist, his grip like iron. She rolled her eyes.
"Fine," she muttered, ignoring Allan, who was sniggering. She managed to pull Robin away from the support beam, moving him into a sitting position before yanking him to his feet, pulling him towards his bed. He stood for a moment, swaying slightly before he fell forward, wrapping his arms around Morgan in a tight hug.
"Marian," he sighed contentedly. Allan sat forward, his laughter suddenly dying off.
"Not being funny, but if he doesn't stop, I'll have to hit him," he muttered. Morgan walked slowly backwards, dragging Robin to his bed, sparing a smile for Allan.
"What's wrong? Jealous?" she joked. Robin tightened his grip on her, repeating Marian's name. Morgan gave an involuntary gasp. If this was how Robin gave affectionate hugs, she was glad that she wasn't Marian. She pried Robin off of her, helping him into his bed, for which Allan was glad. She turned just in time to miss his faint blush.
Robin had been talking to Marian, hugging her tightly, afraid to let go. Suddenly, she simply wasn't there. Robin looked around, confused. The field of flowers disappeared around him, and he was suddenly standing in sand. He looked down. He was wearing his Crusader's uniform, but this wasn't like any of the dreams he'd had about the Crusades.
"Robin, look alive!" A cheery voice warned. Robin turned, catching the ration of food that was flying at his head. He looked at the man who'd thrown it. Morgan's brother. "You alright, then, Robin?"
"I feel ill," Robin answered earnestly, "I've had some of Morgan's cooking." Michael burst into the loud, unrestrained laughter that he had become known for throughout the King's personal guard. Even though his stomach still ached, Robin joined in the laughter.
"That is unfortunate," Michael finally smiled. "On the bright side, you could use the food against the Turks." Robin laughed. In the year that he had spent back in England, he had nearly forgotten Michael, but having Morgan around reminded him of her brother.
"Master!" Much called, rounding the corner. "Is it time to go home now?"
With Much's comment, Robin was suddenly very aware that he was dreaming. He looked around him, and the Holy Lands slowly became Sherwood Forest. He slowly felt himself waking up.
Allan had just left, having to return before he was missed. Morgan yawned, lying on her loft, trying to stay awake. She hoped that the gang wouldn't be too mad at her for knocking them out. If they were mad, she had at least come up with a way to use her recipe to their advantage.
She rolled onto her stomach, staring into the fire. She watched the flickering flames, feeling her eyelids growing heavier. Gradually, she fell into a peaceful sleep.
She was running through an open field, laughing as she relished the feel of the soft grass beneath her feet. There was nothing but that grassy field as far as she could see. She welcomed it, exhilarated by the feeling of freedom. She was vaguely aware that someone had just past here, stopping at a tree that hadn't been there before. She skidded to a stop next to the tree.
The woman leaned against the tree, smiling.
"Hallo, Morgan," she said softly, waving. Morgan mirrored the gesture.
"Hallo, Morgan," she replied. The woman undoubtedly her, but she was a noticeably older. Ten years at least. They stood there for a minute, staring at each other.
"Does everything come out ok?" Morgan asked her older self. The woman nodded. Morgan smiled.
"That's good, then." The woman seemed to agree, but Morgan laughed at the thought. Of course she would agree with herself.
"What happens to everyone?" she asked. The older Morgan shook her head.
"If I tell you, there wouldn't be a point. I've got to go now. The flood's coming," Morgan looked down to see that she was ankle deep in water. She frowned. She hoped that it wasn't a real flood. She couldn't swim. She looked up to ask her older self if she would ever learn, but the older Morgan was gone, as was the tree.
"Well, that's unfair! You can't rabbit off with the tree, too!" she said aloud, as if people normally disappeared into thin air, taking trees as they went. The water rose to her waist, then to her shoulders. Someone grabbed her, pulling her into a boat.
"You should be prepared for the flood, Morgan," a familiar voice said.
"Michael!" Morgan exclaimed, throwing her arms around her brother. "Wait, what flood?"
"You'll know when the time comes," he nodded. "Trust me; you'll know."
Morgan opened her eyes, staring into her pillow. She sat up and let her legs dangle off of her loft, stretching and squinting as the sunlight filtered through the roof of the camp. Everyone else was out, except for Robin, who was sitting at the small table, writing.
"You alright, then, Robin?" she asked tentatively. He kept his head down for another minute, finishing a sentence before looking up at Morgan.
"Morgan, I feel obligated to tell you that you aren't allowed to cook anymore. Ever," he replied with a grin. Morgan laughed.
"Understood. I thought of what to do with the leftovers," she smiled brightly, "We could give it to the Sheriff's men. Easy way into the castle."
"One problem with that, Morgan," Robin replied gravely. Morgan tilted her head to the side in slight confusion.
"We don't believe in killing unless absolutely necessary." Robin ducked as Morgan playfully bunched up her blanket and threw it at him.
The end! I know, it was a shortie, but that's how it was meant to be. I promise, Morgan's dream will make sense later on.
Big thanks to Stripysockz, lekopoet, and lady clark of books for the reviews!
Hope you guys enjoyed it!