Just to be clear, I do NOT own Ranger's Apprentice (unfortunately). The wonderful literature that makes up this series is written by John Flanagan. This story is merely an attempt at indulging in the world of Will and Halt, and, frankly, I could never write as well as Mr. Flanagan. However, Maureen Johnson encourages everyone who wants to become a writer to start writing and keep writing. DFTBA, for any of you nerdfighters out there. Enjoy. :)
Everything was peaceful.
The kingdom seemed at its greatest point of serenity as Will perched himself upon a towering pine, overlooking the tops of the forest. Chilled autumn air swirled fiery leaves around his body as he gazed outward, towards the sun, melting into the river and casting a million glittering diamonds on its surface. Even after all the difficult Ranger training he had been through - on top of the action he had been a part of - he still felt small in such a big world.
He thought of Halt, and what he must be up to these days. Will had suggested a vacation, since the poor Ranger was growing old and, to his amazement, sentimental. However, being as beneficially cautious as he was, he refused with an slightly excessive amount of earnest.
"How many times have I told you? Never underestimate the enemy!" he had said. Or rather, hollered.
It was a bit discouraging, to be honest.
But yet again, he was right, and Will felt instantly embarrassed for not thinking. Even as much as he wished it, he could never be a substitute, and could never be as much of a friend to the Baron Arald as much as Halt was, and that was probably the most important part. The two men had been spending much time together lately, sharing daily suppers, and indulging in the occasional chess match. Neither eased their paranoia, for such lack of action was incredibly suspicious, but their moods seemed much…. Lighter. The Baron had always been a character of high spirits, but Halt was notorious for his persistent grim attitude, regardless of the situation. Will had never seen Halt smile so much.
Both he and the rest of the fief knew it was because of Lady Pauline.
The Lady's calm composure never faded, obviously, but sometimes you could see a wild glint in her eye, and Halt's as well. Rumor, spreading like a wildfire, suggested that the two were up to some romantic affairs, but no one knew for sure. Everyone, however, believed it, because even in Will's eyes, Pauline was perfect for Halt, and Halt was perfect for Pauline. The couple was, in a way, inevitable.
Suddenly, in spite of himself, Will also thought of Alyss.
He had not seen the girl in quite some time, and an unexpected ache of longing appeared deep in his chest. Months ago, they had exchanged a few charming words, and, admittedly, a kiss. However, she was currently undergoing the last of her formal education, with work piling on top of her plate like a heavy rain.
He thought of her soft lips against his; reassuring and insistent and overwhelmingly warm. He thought of her long elegant fingers resting on his cheeks, caressing his hair, and brushing down his arm, sending icicles up his spine. He thought of her eyes, with that magical sparkle, telling you that she was intelligent without being snobby; firm but friendly; human but impossibly lovely.
This is what happens when I'm left with my own thoughts, he thought. I become a lovesick baby.
Climbing down the tree, he landed on the supple forest floor with a silent thud, an instinctive reinforcement of his training. With a ready bow in hand, he glanced around, checking his surroundings for any immediate threats. Nothing. As usual. With a heavy sigh, he trudged back to the castle, on an invisible route out of the timber.
Rounding the corner, his footsteps crunched on the vibrant colored leaves as he came face to face with the person he expected the least.