"I hate this." Came the dull, sulking voice of Halt's apprentice, Gilan. The tone was a rare one for the normally cheerful boy, whose spirits had been lowered greatly by his recently sprained ankle. Gilan had been out practicing concealed movement, and when he returned, his face pale and his right foot dangling out of the stirrup, the ankle was so swollen that Halt had been forced to cut Gilan's boot off. Halt only took one look at the swollen, bruised joint before he confined his apprentice to the house. At first, Gilan had very vocally opposed the order. Later, he decided that you could do two things when arguing with Halt; one, you could attempt to argue and be completely ignored until you stopped, or two, you could save your breath.
"It might heal faster if you quit trying to walk on it." Halt said as Gilan tried yet again to walk across the room, gingerly putting weight on his injured foot, only to wince and snatch it up. "You're only making it worse."
"How long until my imprisonment is over?" Gilan asked, hopping on his left leg over to a chair.
"When I say so." Halt said simply.
"And around how long until you say so?"
"I'll say so when I say so." Halt said, getting more irritable by the second.
Gilan gave a very audible sigh. Halt could be so difficult when he wanted to. Lifting his foot up, the apprentice poked around the wrap that Halt had bound around his ankle.
"Leave that alone. It's wrapped for a reason." Halt's voice floated across the room.
Gilan scowled. "It's tight."
Halt sighed exasperatedly, his patience wearing thin. "As I said before, it's for a reason. The wrap provides support and helps reduce swelling."
Gilan scowled again and put his foot down. "This is boring. Can I ride Blaze?"
"No."
"But I would be staying off my foot!"
"Knowing you, as soon as you thought I wasn't watching you would do something stupid that would probably land you in the castle infirmary, a place I am sure is far more boring than our cabin." Halt replied, growing weary with the entire conversation. "My answer was and is still no." Halt stole a look at the boy. Gil's tall, lanky body was slumped over in defeat. To say his apprentice looked miserable was an understatement.
"I just feel... I don't know, so limited." Gilan said sadly, looking around the cabin. "I can't ride. I can't shoot. I can't practice my sword."
"If you let it REST, you'll be up again in no time."
Gilan sighed, his blue eyes clouded. Truth to be told, Halt hated seeing Gilan like this. Halt, though he rarely admitted it, like Gilan's cheerful demeanor. Sure, he teased his apprentice about it, often to be answered with a remark similar to, "It's better than being grim and grumpy.. like *cough* you.", but after being stuck with a dull, depressed Gilan, Halt found himself longing for the ebullient, smiling, and sometimes sarcastic apprentice he had grown so fond of.
"Look.." Halt began, his tone gentler. "Being hurt is no fun. I've had more than enough experiences to firmly implant that in my mind. With that in mind, sulking over the fact that you are hurt won't make you heal faster." Gilan nodded.
"Ok, Halt. I get it. Stop moping because it's annoying you?" A faint smile appeared on Gilan's face, much to Halt's satisfaction.
"You got it." Halt replied dryly, and Gilan's smile widened. Halt felt a surge of relief. Gilan still wasn't his normal self, but that smile was the first step.
Please review!