Hi everyone and welcome to my new story! I really don't know where the idea came from to write a crossover with the Avengers and Robin Hood, but here it is! I hope you like it and enjoy reading it as much as I did writing. Please let me know! Somehow, I thought that Clint was just perfect for the role as Robin! And Phil as a handsome knight who's only in town to search for the outlaw? Perfect! The story will have about four chapters in the end.
The title of the story was inspired by "Fire On Fire" by Sam Smith.
I don't own the characters or places!
It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and only a few clouds could be seen in the sky. For late spring, the weather wasn't too warm yet and the relief about it could be felt in the entire city and its surroundings. The previous year had been much hotter than this one, which had led to good harvests, but also lots of complaining. Especially when in late summer, the first wells had only little water and people had to walk far distances for that.
But this year, it looked like things would get better. The people currently walking around the big market in Nottingham were chatting happily. Children were running around and laughing, sometimes interrupted by the scolding of a concerned mother or an owner of a market stall. Many conversations could be heard, sometimes of people negotiating prices for their goods, other times it was just gossip about the Sheriff or some other nobles who made their way through the city, often on their way to London. Farmers were talking about the situation on their fields or their harvest methods and how well it worked. Women tried to find the best fabrics for sewing new clothes, already thinking of the next winter, even if summer hadn't begun yet. Other men, who weren't working on the fields, were discussing their crafts like building houses or some, who didn't want to talk about work in their free time, simply discussed everything and nothing at all. A few young people could also be seen, especially those for whom school was far too expensive. Then, stories about beautiful girls or boys could be heard, or about who had the best hairstyle.
In the middle of this busy market, Clint made his way through the crowd, aiming for a market stall that sold fresh vegetables and bread. He was greeted happily by many people he passed and he smiled at all of them, often exchanging a few words. Since he was the blacksmith in Nottingham, everyone knew him. It was rare that people didn't use his services yet to repair devices for their work or sometimes also weapons. His profession led to Clint being well-known and together with the fact that his prices were always fair, there were only few people who didn't like him.
"Good morning, blacksmith!" The owner of the market stall, an elderly woman with grey hair and warm brown eyes, greeted him cheerily. "Are you here to get your weekly stock of food?"
Clint nodded. "Good to see you, Elisabeth. How are you today?"
"I can't complain." She said while she began to pack vegetables, bread and even a few apples left from the last year in the basket Clint handed her. "The harvest is good, mostly due to the rain we had a few weeks ago. My husband and our sons are busy on the fields all day. They leave at first light and only return when it's getting dark again. I rarely see them these days."
"It's good to hear that everything works for you." Clint handed her the money in return for the goods. Last year, they didn't have it so easy since the dryness lessened their harvest significantly. In the end, Clint had let one of her sons work with him at the forge a few days a week to get at least some money.
"Thanks to the sickles you repaired for us, my men have it much easier. They can't stop praising you." Here eyes were shining when she said it. "We can't thank you enough, Clint!"
"It's my job." He said with a shrug, but returned her smile.
Elisabeth shook her head. "We both know that you took far too little money for the repairs."
He laughed. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He grabbed the basket and nodded at her. "If you need anything else, just stop by. You know where to find me."
"We will!" She called after him and he continued his way through the market. He stopped at a few other places, getting some supplies he'd needed for some time now. In the past week, he'd delivered an order of weapons for the Sheriff and his guards, so for now, money wasn't an issue and he could take care of everything he needed for once.
Only when he was about to head back did another conversation attract his attention.
"Let me tell you, that's what happened!" A man just said to a group of people who'd gathered around him. Clint recognised Much, the chief of a small village only a few miles outside of Nottingham. "Robin Hood and his people stopped the rider who was on his way to Sheffield with an important message and a purse full of gold. He didn't stand a chance against the group of outlaws who planned the ambush in the middle of the Sherwood Forest! They let him go, but just with his horse and the message. The gold they kept, only to give it to the people of the surrounding villages afterwards!"
Whispers of approval, mixed with quiet laughs were the reaction of the crowd. Of course no one tried to say it too loud or make it too obvious. Here in Nottingham, it was far too dangerous to speak of Robin Hood. Especially on market day.
"Ridiculous, isn't it?" A voice behind Clint said and a man stepped next to him. He was tall, muscular and wore the clothes of a merchant. Clint didn't know him that well, but he'd heard that his family dealt with exotic spices from all around the world. "A man in the woods, stealing gold and giving it to the poor. Either those are good stories, or this Robin Hood is insane. There are even rumours that he was one of us once. Robin of Locksley. You knew him, didn't you, Mr. Barton?"
"I did. A lifetime ago." Clint muttered, his eyes still fixed on Much and the crowd. "But not anymore. If it's true what those people say, he must have lost his mind in the past years."
The merchant laughed and clapped Clint on the back. "Don't listen to those stories too much. Otherwise, the Sheriff might get the idea that you're sympathising with those outlaws and then, your time as a blacksmith may be over soon." Without waiting for a reply, he left and vanished in the crowd again. Clint did the same, making his way home with his supplies to start another day in his workshop.
A few days later, Clint was on his usual trip through the city to deliver all the weapons and other equipment he'd made for the inhabitants of Nottingham. It was his typical routine. At the beginning of the week was market day. Then he spent a few days working. At the end of the week, he delivered all the orders. Then he worked again until market day. Not a very exciting life, but for a blacksmith, it was good. He earned enough money so he could live without problems. And he got to meet lots of people every day, something he'd learned to appreciate over the years.
He'd just stopped by at the post office to deliver a new seal he'd made for them when outside, surprised shouts and whispers sounded. Since the office was at the main road of Nottingham which led to the Sheriff's small castle, everyone going there needed to pass this place. When Clint joined the crowd outside, he wasn't surprised to see a group of riders on their way to the Sheriff's place.
The group was led by Sir Guy of Gisborne. He was one of the knights of the Sheriff and it seemed like the only goal in his life was to make sure that Nottingham stayed peaceful. Meaning peaceful in the definition of the Sheriff, which implied that everything worked the way he wanted it. In most parts of the population, Gisborne was feared, not respected. He might be a knight, but he rarely behaved that way. Once provoked, which happened quite easily, the man tended to use violence far too often. He also wasn't very polite, or clever, Clint thought secretly. Most of the time, he tried to stay out of Gisborne's way. It worked on most days, but the knight turned up at his place to request new weapons regularly.
Also not surprising was the group of armed riders that followed Gisborne. They were his usual soldiers and followed him everywhere. At the moment, their biggest goal was to catch Robin Hood since he was a big threat to the Sheriff.
New, however, was the man riding right next to Gisborne and who caught Clint's eye immediately. He wasn't very tall, had blue eyes and brown hair. Together with his tanned skin and the fine clothes he was wearing, he was definitely handsome. And a knight, if the cloak around his shoulders and the sword by his side meant anything.
All around Clint, the people were wondering who he was. Suddenly, the owner of the post office stepped next to him. "That's Sir Phil Coulson." The man whispered quietly. "His arrival was announced a few weeks ago. Apparently, he's from London and should support in the search for Robin Hood."
"A knight from London?" Clint whispered back, his eyes not leaving the other man. He wasn't sure why, but there was something fascinating about him. Something that made it impossible for Clint to look away.
"He's been working with the king before." Came the quiet answer.
Before Clint could say anything to that, Phil Coulson looked over the crowd slowly. His posture was relaxed and there was a smile on his lips. A sharp contrast to Gisborne next to him, whose face was an annoyed mask. In general, the two men couldn't be more different from each other. Gisborne as usual clad in black, with his dark hair and pale skin. Phil Coulson in light colours, a mixture of red and blue, tanned skin and brown hair. Clint wondered if those two would get along well. Somehow, he doubted it.
Then suddenly, Phil's eyes found Clint's in the crowd. He knew that it wasn't polite to look a knight directly in the eyes. He should avert his gaze, maybe even take a step back. But he felt himself unable to do so. For a few short moments, there was something like surprise on Phil's face, but it vanished again as fast as it appeared. And then the moment was over, they'd ridden past Clint and he could only see the back of the newcomer.
He made his way back to the forge quickly, wondering the entire time why his heart was beating so furiously in his chest.
That afternoon, Clint left the city, telling the guards at the gates that he was on his way to deliver supplies to the small villages surrounding Nottingham. It wasn't a lie, but he also had another destination in mind he needed to visit.
The Sherwood Forest was quiet when he entered it. Next to the rustling of the wind in the trees and the sound of a few birds singing, nothing could be heard. After his days in the town, Clint always appreciated the calm and quiet of being outside, only surrounded by nature.
For about a mile, he could walk in silence without being disturbed. Once or twice, he saw a wild animal, but they avoided him just as much as he didn't want to get too close to them. Only after walking through the forest for nearly an hour did he notice that he was being followed.
His pursuer was fast on his feet and moved around nearly soundless. But once or twice, the rustling of branches betrayed him. Clint acted as if he didn't notice someone behind him, but all his senses were on alert. He touched the bow he always carried when he left the city absent-mindedly, but he knew that there was no need to use it. When he came to a small clearing close to a river, he stopped.
"You're getting better." He said loudly and without turning around. "Your feet don't make so many noises anymore, but you also have to watch the rest of your body."
For a few heartbeats, everything was silent. But then a person stepped out of the forest to Clint's left. "I thought I got it right this time!"
Clint laughed at the frustrated expression on the other man's face. "I bet anyone else wouldn't have noticed you, Allan."
"I had to try." Allan was about Clint's height, with brown hair and green eyes. He wore clothes in a mixture of brown and green, the best colours not to get noticed in a forest. "You're just too good, Clint."
"Keep practicing and soon, you'll be just as good." Clint placed a hand on Allan's arm with a smile. "Now come on, let's go to the camp. I have news."
Together, they continued their walk through the forest. But it wasn't far to the camp of the outlaws anymore. Once they stepped out of the trees and towards the small huts and tree houses, Allan whistled. "Look who's visiting us!" He exclaimed. "Robin Hood is back in the Sherwood Forest!"
"So you say that the Sheriff accepted that Gisborne won't catch us on his own and sent for someone from London?" Allan asked incredulously after Clint had told them his tale.
"The Sheriff is too proud for that." Little John shook his head fiercely. "The order must have come from above."
"Most probably." Clint agreed with a nod. "Rumour has it that he's been working with the king before."
"The king is interested in us?" Will Scarlet looked intrigued. Most probably, he was already trying to figure out how they could gain even more money with that information.
Clint chuckled. "I don't think this knight is here on orders of the king. Maybe someone else high in rank, but surely not the king himself."
"What was his name again?" Will wanted to know.
"Sir Phil Coulson." Clint repeated the name the owner of the post office had mentioned. It felt nice on his tongue, he had to admit to himself. Phil, an unusual name. Maybe it was short for something else?
"So a knight by title, but without land." Little John didn't sound happy. "That means he has to be good. Only rich blokes with a big family history and lots of possessions can buy the title."
"You mean like Gisborne?" Allan asked with a grin.
John grinned back at him. "Just like him."
"So what are we going to do now?" Will interrupted them, his eyes on Clint. "If he's after Robin Hood and his people and really as clever as they say, he could cause trouble."
"That's what I'm going to find out." Clint explained calmly. "Most probably, he'll get a tour through the city and the surrounding villages. I'll speak to him then."
"Dangerous, speaking to a knight." Allan muttered.
"But our only possibility right now." Clint smiled slightly. "I rather see it as a chance. They all think I'm just a blacksmith, remember? Nearly no one knows that I've been friends with Robin of Locksley nearly all my life. Outside this forest, no one even knows that Robin is dead." Clint and Robin had gone to war together. Only one of them had returned.
"It might put you at risk, asking questions. They could think that you're helping him." John pointed out.
"Only few people know Robin and I knew each other at all. And they won't talk." It was true. They'd met in their youth for the first time, but the difference in their social standing had always prevented an open friendship. Clint and Robin had met in secret all their lives. Until they went to war together. There, their lives had depended on each other. Just that Clint couldn't keep his promise and his friend never got the chance to return home. With his dying breath, Robin had let Clint make a promise as well. To protect those who needed it. And what better way to do it than in the name of his old friend? He'd never told anyone that Robin didn't return with him. Only the outlaws knew about this secret. To the world, Robin of Locksley was living in the woods with the outlaws as their leader. As Robin Hood.
"There's no way to change your mind about this, is there?" John asked when he saw Clint's determined expression.
He shook his head. "It will all work out."
"Asking questions might not look so strange." A voice outside of their small circle said and someone else joined them at the fire. It was Much, whom Clint had met in Nottingham a few days ago. He was the chief of a small village - at least when he wasn't an outlaw. "Robin Hood is all the people in Nottingham and the surrounding villages talk about." He winked at them. "It would be only natural to be interested in a newcomer, especially when it's rumoured he's here to finally catch the outlaw."
"How did you hear it?" Clint asked curiously.
"From Brother Tuck." Much explained. "He's been visiting all the small towns today. Apparently, he also saw the arrival of Sir Phil Coulson. And he heard that Gisborne isn't happy to have him here at all."
"It wouldn't look good for our dear Gisborne when someone new catches Robin Hood." Will agreed. "Of course he hates him."
"Which might be an advantage for us." Clint grinned. "If they don't get along and can't work together properly, we might be able to use this."
"Risky." John commented with a frown.
"But it might work." Allan threw in and next to him, Will nodded.
"Let's wait until I got a chance to talk to him." Clint decided in the end. "I'll let you know about it as soon as possible."
When he stood up to make his way back to the city, the others only nodded in agreement.
It turned out that he didn't have to wait long for his opportunity to talk to Sir Phil Coulson. The next day, Clint was on his way to the market when he saw a familiar face in the crowd. Apparently, Phil didn't wait for Gisborne or someone else to show him the city and decided to see everything on his own. It was a strange sight, a knight walking around, talking to everyone as if it was the most normal thing to do. Even if people stared at him, it didn't seem to bother Phil. Or maybe he was just good at not showing it.
Clint was about to get closer to him when suddenly, Phil Coulson looked up from the conversation he just had with one of the seamstresses and their eyes met. Just like the previous day, it felt like Clint's whole world stopped turning. Those eyes! He'd never seen someone with eyes so beautiful, their colour a mixture of different shades of blue and -
Focus, Clint! He scolded himself inwardly. You're here to find out more about this man and his abilities. Not swoon over him!
He must have been distracted for a moment because suddenly, the knight was walking directly towards him and stopped when there was only a small distance between them. "Good morning." Sir Phil Coulson greeted him politely. "What a wonderful day it is." Clint's mind was racing at this. He'd never been good at making conversation about unnecessary things like the weather. What was he going to say to this?
Luckily, Phil spared him the risk of embarrassing himself and continued without waiting for a reply. "You're the blacksmith in town." It wasn't a question.
Clint nodded. "Clint Barton, at your service."
"My name's Phil. Phil Coulson." When Phil's smile widened, small wrinkles appeared around his eyes. Most probably from lots of smiling or laughing. "But I'm sure you already know that."
Clint couldn't help it - he chuckled. "I think everyone knew about you the second you first set foot in this city. It's rare that we get visitors here in Nottingham." Visitors. A good idea to mention that. Maybe he could find out more about Phil's stay in the city this way.
"I noticed that." Luckily, Phil didn't seem offended by Clint's blunt words. In fact, he looked rather intrigued. "I'm not used to people staring at me this much." While he said this, his eyes wandered around for a few moments, taking in the people surrounding them. Most tried not to let it show that they were watching them - or even trying to listen to their conversation.
"You came from London?" Maybe he was being impolite, but he had to risk it. He needed to know more about this potential risk. And maybe, just maybe he was also a little curious about the man in front of him, though he couldn't explain why. Everything about Phil Coulson screamed danger.
Phil nodded. "I've lived there for quite a while. But a few weeks ago, I was sent here."
"To catch Robin Hood?" Clint quirked an eyebrow and was impressed by how skeptical his voice sounded. He didn't want to sound too curious.
"Are you always asking so many questions?" Despite his words, Phil was still smiling.
Clint only shrugged, hoping it looked casual. "My life's not that exciting. So when someone new appears - especially a knight - I get curious."
It made Phil laugh. He had a beautiful voice, too. "You shouldn't be too impressed by me. I only have the title, nothing else." Clint raised his eyebrows in surprise at this honesty, but Phil only shrugged. "In London, it's not a secret that I came from a rather unimportant family. I bet this gossip will arrive here soon anyway. If people aren't already talking."
"But you were knighted anyway." Clint threw in. "That has to mean something."
Phil only smiled at this, but he didn't reply. When something behind Clint's back caught his attention, he turned around to follow his gaze. His heart sank when he saw Guy of Gisborne walking towards them, his expression as grim as always.
"There you are, Coulson!" He exclaimed, sounding annoyed. "I've been looking for you."
Phil met the scowl on Gisborne's face with a calm smile. "I'm sorry that I got distracted. But this city and its people are so fascinating. I wanted to get to know more about them."
"You're not here to meet the people." Gisborne growled, not trying to hide his disapproval. "We have a task to fulfil."
"Of course." Phil nodded in understanding, which didn't seem to lessen Gisborne's anger.
Suddenly, the man turned to Clint. "Blacksmith! I've wanted to send someone to you anyway. My sword and some of the weapons of my people require fixing."
Clint nodded without hesitation. "It would be a pleasure to take care of that for you, Sir." He bowed his head, like he usually did around Gisborne. After all, he tried everything possible not to get noticed too much in the city. And yet you had a risky conversation with the new knight you know nothing about, a tiny voice inside his head whispered.
Gisborne only grumbled his approval. "I'll send someone with the weapons within the next days." He turned to Phil briskly. "The Sheriff wants to see us." He stormed off right after that. Phil offered Clint an apologetic smile before he followed Gisborne through the crowd. When the people had talked to Phil earlier, they now looked away quickly as he walked right behind the other knight. It was a normal reaction to Gisborne's presence. Clint wondered if Phil could stand being around the other man or if he secretly annoyed him just as much as anyone else.
He didn't look after them for a long time. When the first curious glances were directed at him, Clint left the market quickly. Somehow, he didn't feel like telling anyone about his conversation with Sir Phil Coulson.
Only days later, the news that a rich family was on their way to Nottingham to meet with the Sheriff reached Clint. It was also rumoured that this was Sir Phil Coulson's first opportunity to take part in the hunt for Robin Hood and his outlaws.
Clint didn't hesitate long before he left the city with a few deliveries he had to make anyway and the explanation that he wanted to meet his sister and her family afterwards. It was always a good excuse if he stayed out of town a little longer, since it prevented the people from asking too many questions. Actually, he didn't have a sister and stayed with a family whose son was one of his outlaws, his absence explained with him having left to join the war.
When he arrived in the forest, it had started to rain heavily. Little John, Will and Allan were already waiting for him. "Are the rumours about those rich folks coming here true?" John demanded to know, not even bothering to say hello.
Clint nodded. "They're expected this afternoon, tomorrow at the latest, if the weather causes them any problems."
"It's just raining." Allan muttered, rolling his eyes.
"There are also rumours that this will be the first opportunity for the new knight to show what he can do." Will pointed out. "They're expecting us to make a move." His expression showed how skeptical he was about the idea of doing exactly what they wanted.
Clint only smiled. "We'll surprise them. Attack where they don't expect it."
"How do you want to do that?" John's eyes were gleaming in excitement.
"Remember last year, when there was a storm and we used the fallen tree to our advantage?" He grinned at John and pointed at the last weapons he didn't deliver. "I made you a new axe."
Little John was already moving towards it in excitement, but Will held him back quickly. "A tree on the road screams danger. Every traveler knows that."
"But we won't make our move there." Clint's smile turned wider. "We'll just force them to take the way we want. Which is why we need to leave now!" With a whistle, he alarmed the others at camp and selected a few more who should join them. Then he went to look for his cloak and the mask he always wore as Robin Hood.
Making the travellers use the way they wanted was an easy task. Far too easy, if someone would ask for Clint's opinion in this. Didn't the guards learn anything anymore these days? But maybe it was just his normal, mistrustful self after years of being in the war and then an outlaw that would have never just changed the direction if suddenly, a tree was lying on the road.
To their advantage, however, the guards of the noble family weren't mistrustful, or even clever. They simply saw the main path to Nottingham blocked and took the side road, that was longer, more uneven and also didn't pass so many villages on the way to the city.
Along that road, Clint and his people were already waiting for them. Thanks to the heavy rain, the guards weren't on alert when Clint - or Robin Hood - shot an arrow at the carriage the family used for travel.
It all happened very fast then. The horses of the guards moved back in uneasiness, clearly sensing that something was wrong. The guards shouted in alarm, but then Clint and the outlaws were already there, moving to get their weapons. It had been their unspoken agreement right from the beginning that they would only hurt someone if they were attacked first. They didn't want to have the blood of innocents on their hands.
Clint didn't take part in the brawl, instead he aimed for the carriage and flung the door open. He stopped the hand of the noble with the dagger aimed at him easily and twisted it so the weapon fell to the ground with a thud. "No need for that." Clint smiled widely and took the blade from the ground. It was heavy and of good quality. He thought that he could even see lines of gold on the handle, but in the dim light, he couldn't be sure.
There were four people inside the carriage. An elderly man, surely the head of family, his wife and two daughters. The youngest was about ten, Clint suspected. They all looked at him through wide eyes now. "I'm very sorry to interrupt your journey. This will only be a very short stop." He looked at the women and saw that they were all wearing jewellery, mostly silver, but the necklace of the wife was made of gold. Under the seat of the man was a small chest, nearly hidden behind his legs and the blankets he sat on. Clint noticed it anyway. "Your jewellery, please." He smiled at the women. "And the gold." He pointed at the chest.
"This is our only money!" The man exclaimed, paling visibly.
"You're Robin Hood, aren't you?" The eldest daughter asked suddenly, earning an angry stare from her father and a warning hiss from her mother.
"I am." Clint took the jewellery the young girl offered him gently. "And this will help lots of people who can't afford to wear fine clothes or travel through the country as they please."
The girl still looked frightened at this, but her lips twitched.
They'd just collected everything valuable when suddenly, they heard shouts in the distance. "The Sheriff's people!" Allan, who had to play scout that day, shouted once he was close enough. "They'll be here soon!" As an answer, the shouting behind him grew louder.
"Run!" Clint instructed his people quickly and watched as they all sprinted towards the forest. Together with Allan, he waited until the last of them were out of sight. Only then did they follow. Clint always did this, waiting until the others were safe before he followed them. If someone got caught, it should be him, not one of the others.
From the corner of his eyes, Clint saw the riders appear on the street, led by Sir Guy of Gisborne and Sir Phil Coulson. But then he was already in between the trees and the last he saw was how Phil's eyes drifted towards him as he left the road as fast as possible.
And then he ran.
"Thank you so much!" The man whispered, grabbing Clint's hands and squeezing them tightly. They were in one of the poorest villages surrounding Nottingham, giving the gold they'd gotten to the people. He knew that it was a risk to do it the same day they'd robbed the nobles, but Clint couldn't wait. Not when he'd seen the circumstances these people lived in only days ago, back when he'd made a few deliveries here.
He smiled gently. "You don't have to thank me." The man in front of him was about seventy years old, far too thin and shaky on his legs. Clint knew that he'd been working at the church all his life, but he'd retired a few years ago. That's what he'd promised Robin. To help people like him. People who didn't have anyone or anything else in their lives. "Just promise me to spend the money wisely. Food, warm clothes for the winter and firewood."
"I will." There were tears in the man's eyes.
All around, Clint's people were giving the things they'd gained to the people. Clint always made sure to visit the ones who needed it most personally. He had to see that all his work did indeed achieve something. It warmed his heart to see people get new hope through Robin Hood.
In the distance, a whistle sounded and Robin gestured for the man to go back into his house. "Hide the gold well. And don't tell anyone about our visit."
"We would never tell a soul."
The promise made Clint smile and he placed a hand on the man's arm. "Stay safe." Then, for the second time that day, he ran.
"They had less gold with them than expected." Little John muttered unhappily. It was late in the evening and they were back in the forest, sitting around a small fire. Mostly because it created a nice atmosphere, not so much because of their clothes that were still soaked from the day's rain. By now, they were used to such things.
"The stories about Robin Hood are widely known." Allan said, throwing a small stick he'd picked up from the ground into the fire. "It's not a surprise that they don't carry more than necessary."
Next to him, the light of the fire illuminated Will's serious face. "Soon, no one will come anymore."
"That's not true." Clint threw in softly. "There are only so many ways to reach Nottingham. Most of them lead through the forest, or at least close to it." Like the road they'd used that day to trick the nobles. "We'll still have enough stealing to occupy us for a long while."
"What are we going to do with the jewellery?" Allan asked suddenly, looking at Clint with raised eyebrows. From all of them, he was always the one most interested in the things they got. Especially when it wasn't just gold or silver. It was one of the reasons why Clint had been reluctant to invite him to join the outlaws first, but Allan was an excellent thief. And good with a bow. That, together with his stature matching Clint's, was what made him perfect for their group. After all, Clint couldn't vanish into the forest every day. The people of Nottingham would start asking questions if their blacksmith vanished regularly for great amounts of time. Especially at times when Robin Hood showed up. They always tried to time the outlaw's appearances that some of them happened while Clint was in the city, seen by lots of people.
"Sell it." He replied with a shrug. "Not here in the city. But Much wants to visit his family in Leicester soon, maybe he'll find someone interested there." On those trips, Much slipped into the clothes of a rich merchant they'd stolen once and became a person most people, especially other merchants, took seriously. That made it easier to exchange some stolen objects with gold. In Nottingham, it was too risky to offer the goods Robin Hood had just stolen and in the surrounding villages, no one could use expensive jewellery. Much made trips to the other cities close by regularly, always pretending to visit a part of his family. Last he'd travelled in the direction of Sheffield, so this time, he'd go in the other direction.
"If he doesn't let himself be deceived again." John muttered darkly, staring into the fire. "Last time, he returned with too little gold."
"It was a fair amount for the things he sold." Clint threw in, staring at his friend through narrowed eyes. "But if you insist, you can travel through the country next time. I know you like going far distances, especially when the weather is slowly getting warmer…"
Little John raised his head to stare at him darkly. "You need me here." He said simply.
"Let's be honest. It's rather that no one would buy anything from you, not so much the fact that you are needed in our little group." Will grinned, earning another dark look from John. "What? It's true. They all think you're scary." It could be true sometimes. Being tall and with his wild, black hair, John could look dangerous if he wanted to. Or if someone annoyed him, which happened quite often.
"The new knight seems to be good, considering that they already arrived where we robbed the carriage before we were gone." At Clint's words, the smiles on the other's faces faded. "Alone, it would have taken Gisborne hours to find out about it."
"They didn't catch us, though." John said.
"Because I warned you in time!" Allan hissed back. "Otherwise, it would have been different."
Will didn't look impressed by their bickering. "They also knew where we'd hand out the gold."
Allan shrugged. "There are only so many villages close by."
"They must have been lucky if they accidentally chose the one we targeted." Clint ran a hand through his wet hair. Maybe he should get a new jacket for himself, he thought. This one didn't save him from the rain anymore. "Maybe I should try to talk to the new knight again. See how good exactly he is."
"You shouldn't put yourself in danger." John warned him. "He might get suspicious if you ask too many questions."
"I think I can handle him." Clint said, but one thought appeared in his head. Why did he want to see Sir Phil Coulson again so badly?