A/N: I read the series- fell absolutely head over heels for Gilan... and this happened. Figured I'd post it and see what happens...
Read and Review!
And before I forget-
Disclaimer: I do not own the Ranger's Apprentice or anything recognizable.
I do own Maia... don't steal her alright. Just don't, okay?
~Max
Will had known she was different the moment he saw her. She was riding beside Gilan on the way to the Ranger Corps, one leg on either side of her Ranger-bred sleek black horse. She didn't ride side saddle as a lady should. A smirk was on her lips and her hair was down, blowing freely in the wind. There was a spark in her eyes and a smirk playing across her lips. She had been a mystery at that point. A strange twist in this new journey.
It seemed he was not the only one to think so. She'd earned many a stare that meeting. Though she stood tall against the oppostition, her shoulders back and head held high, a small smirk on her lips as she snuck a glance to the smiling man beside her.
Will had asked Halt if rangers often had partners. Halt had said no, a ranger's life was a solitary one in most cases. The pair of them were an exception, she was one in herself. The first, and only female ranger there was.
At the camp the two young rangers sat next to each other, laughing and carrying on as if they were the only two people for miles around. It was sweet, actually. Not that either of them noticed the looks cast their way.
Though, when not in Gilan's presence she was nearly silent, arms crossed over her chest and head bowed slightly. She almost melded into the background, fading out of spotlight and becoming a bystander. The smirk, however never left her face, and the spark in her eyes never faded only grew when Gilan winked at her or Halt placed a hand on her shoulder.
Will found she was like Halt in that way. Quiet and observant, though Gilan seemed to bring out something else in her, extracting small breathy laughs and exasperated looks from her otherwise unreadable expression.
That was a while ago. That was also why he laughed out loud when Horace called her 'm'lady'. She had shot him a look, one eyebrow raised and responded with finality, "I am NOT a lady," and then turned on her heel and walked into the forest.
Gilan had been laughing to himself as Horace looked after her dumb-founded. He clapped the boy on his shoulder with a smirk and told him not to worry. She"d be back, most likely with dinner.
"But she is a lady..." the boy had whispered as if afraid she may hear him.
Gilan sighed, "Yes, but not that kind of lady..."
Will had ducked out of that conversation.
"She's clever, cunning, perceptive, and smart as they come... but... not the kind of lady that becomes a diplomat." He paused, as if gathering his words. "Women, even diplomats are expected to be quiet, speak only when spoken to, obey, to cook and clean and take care of the kids. She's not cut out for that. Never has been," Gilan explained. "She's a whole different level of woman."
Horace seemed to understand that.
The message really dug in when he watched her throwng knives hit the center of the target. Every. Single. Time.
He learned to work around her, even with her as they traveled onward to Celtica. He still wasn't quite sure how to act around her, but Will see me to know. Conversing with the strange woman just easily as he didn't anyone else. The two seemed to be growing close.
Funny, that the two smallest members of the group should band together.
That was, when Gilan and she weren't lost in conversation and past exploits. Will and Horace had never seen a pair so at ease with one another, so comfortable with each other.
At the campfire that night she pointed out that Will seemed a bit quiet, lost in his head. Gilan knew first hand the pressures of being apprentice to Halt. She did as well. The there was a lot to live up to.
"Right!" Gilan announced, springing to his feet. "Lessons!"
The two young apprentices glanced to one another.
"Lessons?" Will asked, almost pleading.
She laughed, a smirk on her face.
"That's right," the tall young ranger responded cheerfully. "Even though we're on a mission its up to the two of us," he gestured to her, "to keep up the instruction for you two. Maia, get me my sword will you?"
She rolled her eyes at the request, but conceded.
Horace took up a confused expression, "For me? Why should I be taught any ranger skills?"
She picked up Gilan's sword and scabbard from where they lay beside his saddle and tossed it to him with practiced ease. Catching his effects, he withdrew the long slender blade from its leather receptable with a loving smile.
"Not ranger skills, my boy. Combat skills." Gilan smirked.
"Heaven knows we'll be needing them as sharp as possible," she added picking up her own daggers and throwing blades. "We're on war footing these days."
Gilan nodded before turning to the heaviest boy. "Now let's see about that toothpick you're wearing."
"Oh, right!" Horace said sounding more pleased about the turn of events. He drew his sword confidently, point politely toward the ground.
Gilan stuck his own sword point-down in the ground. Then held out his hand for Horace's, "May I see that, please?"
Horace nodded, hand in him the sword hilt-first.
Gilan hefted it with a calculating look on his face. He swung it a few times, experimentally, a smile growing on his features. "You see this, Will? This is what you look for in a sword."
She smiled at Will's decidedly unimpressed look. "It doesn't look special," he said apologetically.
"It's not how they look that counts," she told him with and upward tilt to her mouth.
"It's how they feel," Gilan explained, "This one, for example. It's well balanced, so you can swing it all day without getting overtired, and the blade is light but strong."
Tossing a throwing knife in the air, she added her own two-cents. "I've seen blades twice that thick snapped in half by a good blow from a cudgel. Fancy ones too," she added catching the knife.
"Sir Rodney says jewels in the hilt are just unnesecary weight," Horace added.
Gilan nodded. "What's more they tend to encourage people to attack you and rob you."
She smiled, throwing up her knife again as Gilan returned to business. "Very well, Horace, we've seen that the sword is good quality. Lets see about its owner."
Horace seemed hesitant. "Sir?" That never ceased to crack her up... him calling Gil sir... ah, priceless.
"Attack me!" He said cheerfully, "Have a swing. Take a whack. Lop my head off."
Gilan wasn't in the guard position, but she knew he was ready. Horace's uncertainty was understandable however. Point downward he gave a helpless gesture.
"Come on, Horace," Gilan smiled, "let's not wait all night!"
"But you see, sir, I'm a trainer warrior." Horace put his sword in the ground.
She hid her smirk. Oh how little he knew...
"True," Gilan said seeming to think about it, "But you been training for less than a year. I shouldn't think you'll chop off too much of me."
Horace looked to her, she purposely ignored him, throwing up yet another knife. Will only shrugged.
Gilan shook his head in mock despair. "Come on, Horace. I do have a vague idea what this is all about."
Horace reluctantly swung a half hearted blow at Gilan who didn't even bother to raise his sword, instead swaying easily to the side, the blade passing harmlessly by completely clear of him.
"Come on! Do it as if you mean it!"
She sheathed her knives watching as Horace swung a fullblooded roundhouse stroke at Gilan.
Gilans sword intercepted Horace's blow with ease, seemingly propelled by only his fingers and wrist. He did so with a grace that she never tired of, that she almost envied.
A ring of steel and Horace stopped, surprised. Maia snickered quietly to herself. Never underestimate a ranger.
"That's better!" Gilan said, "Try again."
Backhands, overhands cuts, round arm swings. Each time, Gilan flicked his sword into position, blocking the stroke.
Horace swung harder and faster. Sweat breaking out on his forehead. Soon, his shirt was soaked.
As Horace's breath came in ragged gasps Gilan deviated from blocking movement. His sword clashed against Horace's. Then it whipped around in a small circular motion so his blade was on top. With a slithering clash, he then twisted his blade down Horace's, forcing the sword point down. As it touched the earth Gilan placed a booted foot on it, hold on it in place.
"Right, that'll do," he regarded the boy calmly. A look in his eye told the boy that practice was over. Gilan knew that sometimes a losing swordsman may try for one last cut- at a time when the opponent considered the fight over.
All too often, it then was.
Horace snapped back lightly. Moving quickly out of reach of the sword.
"Not bad," she appraised, smirking at the boy.
Gilan nodded, sparing a glance over to her she stood, "Not bad is right."
Horace was mortified. "Not bad?" He exclaimed, "It was terrible! I never once looked like..." he trailed off. She smirked at the boy. "I never once managed to break through your guard."
"Well," Gilan began modestly, "I have done this sort of thing before you know."
"Yes," Horace planted, "But your a ranger. Everyone knows rangers don't use swords."
"Apparently, this one does," Will grinned.
Horace smiled warmly in return. Much to his credit.
"You can say that again." He turned respectively towards Gilan. "May I ask where you learned your swordsmanship, sir?"
She snickered once more, taking a seat beside Will who had a knowing smile on his face as he glanced at her.
"I've never seen anything like it."
Gilan's smiled, "There you go again with the 'sir'. My swordmaster was an old man. A northerner named McNeil."
"MacNeil!" Horace whispered in awe.
An amused and somewhat proud and admiring smile graced her features Will noticed as she glanced over to her long-time traveling partner.
"You don't mean the MacNeil? MacNeil of Bannock?" Horace breathed.
Gilan nodded, "He's the one. You've heard of him then?
Horace nodded reverently, "Who hasn't heard of MacNeil?"
Will, tired of not knowing what was going on, spoke up. "Well, I haven't, for one, but I'll make tea if anyone chooses to tell me about him."
She laughed, stoking the small fire they had going on. "Sure thing, Will."