Steal From The Rich {1/4}
Steve Rogers x WOC!Reader
Robin Hood AU
Summary: Sir Steven Rogers returns from the crusades to find his lands stolen and his only living family dead. Disgusted by Sheriff Ross of Nottingham’s high taxes and abuse of his people, Steve choses the life of an outlaw, rallying a band of disillusioned men to fight back, and most importantly, steal from the rich to give to the poor.
Warnings: bad french, medieval language, talk of the crusades, large age gap between Steve and the reader, language, smut.
A/N: So this came to me in the ER yesterday night and my new computer arrived today so guess what? had to christen this baby in! I hope you enjoy!! Also steve is serving nomad vibes ;)
For a long time, Steve just stands on the hill and looks.
Seventeen years and Huntingdon had hardly changed at all. The small village at the base of his family’s ancestral Manor looked a little bigger, from his vantage point he can see many people moving, going about their days… So many faces he’d be glad to see once again. Especially his Father.
He’d arrived home a week ago, and had set off from London port straight away to Huntingdon up North, eager to set foot back in familiar lands. Too long had he been fighting in a pointless war. Since he was twenty-one at least, setting off from home, idealistic and young, not knowing what faced him. Instead of glory and honour, all he found was blood and sand.
But that was behind him now, he was returning home, to a softer life, a gentler life. Perhaps he’d find a lovely woman to share it with. His mind wanders to his happy childhood, when all that had been expected of him was to marry and produce heirs. He remembers the daughter of his father’s Steward, a girl some thirteen years younger than him, and how after he’d told off some local boys from teasing her, she’d tearfully made him promise he’d marry her one day.
Her father used to call her ‘petit biquet’ when she’d follow Steve and his best friend around.
She had been young at the time, and Steve had never had any intention of following through as he’d been set to leave for the Holy Lands shortly after, but part of him can’t help but wonder about his life if he had stayed. It was unlikely he’d have married her, seeing as he was the son of a Lord and she was the daughter of a peasant. Though, that was trumped by the fact she was a child and by the time she was a woman, he would be far too old for any young woman to want.
Steve pushes the thought from his mind, and starts down the path. Behind him, he’d just emerged from Sherwood Forest, once his favourite place in the whole world, Steve can remember weeks he’d go hunting with his Father, only returning when they’d run out of supplies, or caught something big enough to take home.
The village is indeed busy, everyone hurriedly going about their chores, the small farms on the outskirts teeming with animals, children collecting eggs from the hens nest and young women milking cows.
In the centre of town, people are just as busy, townsfolk talking and chattering, men and women alike carrying pails of water from the nearby well, or slain livestock ready for preparing.