Disclaimer: I don't own Robin Hood or The Black Cauldron.

A/N: While I've hit a rut on "The Leather Mafia" I decided to indulge once again in a Will/Allan fic that I've been kicking around in this brain of mine for awhile. Hope you enjoy and reviews are appreciated!


So this is Nottingham, Allan A Dale mused to himself. The area didn't strike the arrogant thief as a place worth stopping, but his food supplies were low and it had been months since his last scam; the instinctive liar was restless. What should it be this time? The blind beggar or perhaps the charming thatcher, that one went over well with those nuns. Allan chuckled to himself at the memory, earning strange yet sympathetic looks from the villagers. The village idiot it is then, Allan confirmed. Now who should be my first mark?

Allan and his rumbling stomach were delighted to see a nearby hut where a long haired man was working over some wood in the yard and his wife toiling over a small but tidy garden. A young brown-haired kid shot arrows in a bale of hay as his older brother watched before heading over to their father. They look like kind people…perfect.

Allan adopted a loping gait as he headed towards the kneeling woman. "Munchies…munchies and crunchies?" he asked, bending over and playing with some of the dirt that was in a tidy pile next to the woman. The woman looked over him, compassion shining through wearied eyes.

"Actually, we are getting ready to eat soon. There should be enough stew for one more mouth; we would be pleased to host you for dinner. Do you have a name? I am Jane."

"Name? Name…Jane."

"Come with me," she said, taking Allan's hand. "Why don't you meet my family? This is my youngest son, Luke. And here is my husband, Dan, the village carpenter. And this handsome lad is William, my oldest."

The men in her family merely nodded, the youngest, Luke, covertly watched in fascination. "This young man is to join us for supper, and as it should be ready now, why don't you wash up. And Luke, I will be inspecting you, so wash up well."

Dan gave his wife a long stare, and with a sigh he followed his son Luke to the bucket by the door. William, however, stayed behind. With a distrustful glare at the stranger, he took his mother's hand and led her a few paces from the drooling blond. Allan hummed a ditty and twirled around the yard, all the while listening to their conversation.

"Mom, we barely have enough food as is, and you haven't been eating enough. We can't feed a stranger."

"He has even less than we do, William. Count your blessings that we have all of our wits, our strength and each other. We can help this poor young man have at least one decent dinner, who knows when he will eat next. We may not have much money at the moment, but we can still be kind to our own. Now hush, I expect you to be courteous tonight."

With a kiss to Will's cheek, Jane Scarlett headed towards the now cavorting Allan A Dale, placing a hand on his shoulder and leading him towards her home. "I just don't trust him," Will muttered. Stalking in on legs still determined to grow, Will Scarlett wanted to make sure this village idiot didn't hurt his mother.

....

The meager rabbit stew hadn't assuaged Will's hunger or his anger as he watched his mother take only two bites, too busy praising the idiot's juggling skill with the knives. Bitter, Will briefly imagined the large knife slipping and injuring the giggling fool. With an unintelligible excuse, Will made his exit into the night, unmindful of his mother's sigh or his father's tightened fist.

Allan A Dale watched the eldest son flee, forcefully shoving his hand under his legs to stop himself from cleansing his mouth. This wasn't his favorite con, and circumstances weren't proving as profitable as he would have liked. The Scarletts were a kind family, but as badly off as most of their neighbors, and Allan knew they would have no more to offer him. He briefly flirted with the idea of stealing some of Dan's tools and the few blankets they possessed but decided against such a scheme. He knew poverty when he saw it, and they had been kind enough to offer all they had for dinner. Trying not to feel guilty everytime he saw the sunken cheeks of Jane and Dan, Allan planned to make his escape and leave the town of Nottingham behind. Hopefully there would be better pickings at a nearby village, Nottingham was a dying town.

In the midst of the conversation, Allan A Dale got up, bowed to the lady of the house and skipped his way out the door singing a vulgar song he had learned recently at a particularly memorable pub. The results were a laughing Dan, a blushing Jane, and a young Luke having his ears covered by his mother; and not a single one of them following behind. Once out of the hut, Allan wiped his mouth clean and straightened his cape.

"That's more like it. Charming family, but they'll have to be more careful about who they trust." Allan pulled his cloak tighter across his body as the wind strengthened. "I'll leave the blankets for them, but maybe I will help myself to those tools. Maybe I could get a good enough price for them to get a better cloak, this one has seen better days."

Heading over to the work area in the yard, Allan perused through the old but well-cared for tools. Picking up a hammer, he turned to find Will Scarlett looming behind him, axe in hand.

"Well, idiot, where do you think you're going with that?"