Apprentice to No-one
Side by side, Lona, Tug, and Blaze rode into the clearing where the gathering was held. Earlier that day, Gilan had met them on the road after Mychele was, fortunate let's say, to experience the customary attempt at sneak-attacking eachother by Will and Gilan, who'd been more than a little shocked to hear Will's plan to make sure Crowley agreed, but immediately amused at the humor of it.
Will lead Mychele across the clearing to a spot that apparently was Will's usual place at the gathering, while Gilan set up a tent right next to theirs. The clearing was still relatively empty, with fifteen some tents scattered about; usually, three days were allowed for all fifty Rangers to show up. Will instructed Mychele to set up a tent, without telling her how, then discreetly watched to see how she managed. It took some time, and several mistakes, but once she got an idea of the structure, the tent was quickly assembled.
"Good work. You managed that reasonably well," he said. "Now, put your things inside and we'll make our way to see Crowley."
"Alright. Which tent is his? I didn't notice a particularly important looking tent anywhere," asked Mychele.
"Yes, that's done on purpose in case the gathering place is discovered, so Crowley won't be seen immediately; people might try to kill the commandant. Also, Crowley just likes being sneaky." Will grinned as he said it.
"I suppose he does," came a chuckle.
Mychele wheeled around. "Whoa! How did you do that?"
Before her was a stocky, sandy haired man with blue eyes crinkled into a smile. "I do it by practice. And who are you, young man?" he queried, glancing at Will with a raised eyebrow.
That seems to be a pet expression for Rangers, Thought Mychele. "I'm Michael Carey. Will wants me to be his apprentice." She spoke somewhat quietly, trying to minimize the accent; nonetheless, she saw several nearby heads turn slightly in her peripheral vision.
"Ah, is that so? Will,"
"I know, I know. Let's go talk about it in your tent, okay?"
"Alright then."
Mychele noted a slight sound of displeasure in the older man's voice as she followed Will and Crowley. Entering a tent that looked as non-descript as any other, They sat on low, compact stools, and Mychele told everything that had occurred since she'd arrived at the cabin at Crowley's request. After some consideration, and more details from Will, Crowley requested to talk to Will alone, pointing Mychele to a stream nearby where the apprentices would relax and have fun in their leisure time the first few days, which were set aside with no assessments. Essentially, it was a hangout for the boys to socialize.
Arriving on the scene, Lona in tow to get water, the first thing she noticed were three apprentices swimming in their trousers. There was one other boy on the bank, meticulously polishing his saxe knife; he looked about nineteen years old. One of the swimmers looked up at her.
"Hey look! A new boy!" The other two swimming boys looked around at her; the older boy continued to polish his knife. "What's your name? Who's your mentor? I'm Matt. Where're you from?" he swam to the bank, looking up expectantly.
Patting Lona and leading her to the stream a distance from Matt, Mychele answered the questions in turn. "Michael; Will Treaty, I think; not around here," was her evasive reply. She asked no questions in return, attempting to keep to her policy not to become too friendly with strangers.
"Michael, huh? That's a weird accent, what is it?"
Before Mychele could answer, the knife-polishing boy spoke up. "It's Hibernian."
Matt rolled his eyes. "That's stuffy Sage for you. Oh, and they're Pete, and Stick," he said, gesturing to the two boys behind him.
"Sage and Stick? What kind of names are those?"
"They're not, Matt just thinks he can give us nicknames," Said Stick dryly, standing up in the shallow water; he was aptly nicknamed, being tall and lanky.
"I see. What year are you four?" she asked.
"I-" Matt spoke up, but Pete tackled him from behind, dunking him under water, yelling "Loudmouth!" Stick took up the question.
"I'm a second year, Matt and Pete ate first, and Sage is fifth. How about you?"
"I've been an apprentice for about a week," she said.
Just then, Matt popped up, gasping and shaking water from his shaggy hair.
"Watch it Pete, you fathead!" He grabbed Pete in a headlock, simultaneously turning to talk to Mychele. "Hey, you said Will Treaty is your mentor? THE Will Treaty? What's he like? I'll bet he can shoot a thousand meters and wrestle a bear with one hand!"
Mychele couldn't hide a smirk at the ridiculous statement. "No, he's pretty normal, really funny. But he eats and sleeps and gets sick like a normal person."
Matt threw Pete off into the water. "No way, how'd know he gets sick? He's invincible!"
"Well, he was sick when I met him, so they asked me to help." She shrugged lightly, somewhat bragging.
Matt jumped up onto the bank, standing ten centimeters taller than her. "A runt like you? There's no way Will Treaty had to ask you for help! I bet you can't even swim, and that's why you didn't go in," he smirked.
"Shuddup Matt!" said Pete. "Don't take him seriously, he says those things to everyone, the dummy," he said to Mychele.
Mychele gritted her teeth. "Oh, a joker is he? I can probably shoot better than you, even though I just became an apprentice. Don't take me lightly," she said, facing up to the boy angrily, her accent becoming clearly audible as she raised her voice.
"Aw, the wee Hibernian can't speak without his wee accent?"
Stick and Pete looked between the two anxiously, sensing the tension mounting; Sage glanced at them once, then sheathed his saxe and began work on his throwing knife. Clenching her fists, Mychele turned away hotly and joined Lona by the water, patting her horse's neck to calm herself. The irrepressible boy decided, unwisely, to throw in a last word; Matt called after her:
"Even your horse is runty! Weird Hibernian shaggy-thing."
Mychele whirled back to face him. "You wanna fight smart-mouth? You take that back, or you're gonna fight one mad Hibernian, and you can bet 'wee' doesn't come into it." She paced towards him aggressively. Pete and Stick jumped out of the stream.
"Hey, no reason to fight. Matt,"
"No," Matt interrupted Stick. "He wants to fight, let him. But," he addressed Mychele "If I win, I throw you in the stream." He smirked in satisfaction.
"Sure, and at the end of it, I'll not be the one in the water, you can bet your bow, if you have one, on that." Without warning, she threw a left hook to his jaw, following with a right swing. He reeled back from the first blow, blocking the right with his arm. He pushed the arm out and punched to the gut with his right. She took the blow, doubling over as the air was knocked from her unexpectedly, but instead of straightening, she rammed forward into his stomach, meeting his head with her knee when he gasped and bent over. His head snapped up, and he immediately threw a strong punch at her face, hitting squarely in the eye. Enraged, she forgot all pretense of proper fighting and leapt at him, yelling an odd mix of Pictan and Hibernian.
They both fell backwards; the stronger boy instantly threw her off and jabbed her stomach hard with his elbow. Half yelling, half coughing, Mychele dove back on top of him, punching crazily at his face while he easily fended of the mad blows with his arms, glancing up to see Sage glaring down at them, shaking his head.
"You sorry lot, call that fighting? You fight like kittens."
Matt grinned and rolled over, throwing Mychele off, and standing up. Mychele stood up, breathing heavily. She charged at him again, but he easily evaded her and landed a blow in the face. She backed away, head clearing slightly, but she acted as if she was still enraged and tried to ram him again; when he raised his knee to block the ram, she straightened quickly, jumping sidewise and elbowing his back, causing him to stumble awkwardly off-balance. She jumped on his back to finish the fight.
Several Rangers were gathered in the middle of the clearing, discussing what else, but the new-comer. A middle aged Ranger was speaking:
"True to Halt's ways, Will hasn't even had the boy approved yet," He said with a chuckle.
A younger man spoke up. "Is it safe to have a foreigner as a Ranger? I don't think Will knows much about him, and he already knows where the gathering is."
"Now, don't be so hasty Arden," a senior Ranger put in. "Foreigner means hardly anything, or didn't you know Halt himself is a foreigner? Will may be young, but he's experienced, and I for one think the boy can't be far wrong if Will trusts him enough to bring him here."
Arden shrugged, "If you say so, I'm not too experienced myself."
"If you're skeptical about it, why don't you go see what he's up too? He went to the stream with the other boys," said a fourth man.
"Yes, and check on Darren for me while you're there. The boy's probably cleaning his equipment again instead of relaxing," he laughed.
"Alright, I will." Arden left the group and jogged a short way to the stream. As he neared the place, he heard sounds of scuffling and some yelling. He sped up to a run and burst upon the scene to see a short boy hauling Matt up to his feet, one arm twisted behind him, dirt and blood from his nose smearing his face. The shorter boy shoved Matt to the edge of the stream, yelling at him in Hibernian.
As soon as Mychele was gone, Crowley cleared his throat uncomfortably.
"Will," he began "This was very unwise of you: I don't see any objections to the boy, based on what I've heard, but bluntly speaking, you can't have an apprentice."
Will's brow furrowed. "What's that mean? Why can't I have an apprentice?" he demanded.
"Will, you and Halt are the task force, did you forget that?"
"No. What does it have to do with this?"
"Unlike other Rangers, you frequently have to take long journeys, involving missions that we can't afford to compromise. Because of that, your apprentice's training would be interrupted and perhaps neglected. Now," he raised a hand to stall Will's rising objection "I know you wouldn't willingly neglect his training, but that's the problem: I'll need you to fully concentrate on the task at hand, not worry about your apprentice, who could compromise the mission."
"I went on missions with Halt, I assume other apprentices join their mentors on missions, what makes this any different?" he said.
"That's true, but you know that the special missions I assign to you and Halt take on a whole other nature from the regular Ranger duties and missions. I'm sorry Will, I really am, but I've already thought this through; I knew you'd come to this someday, but I didn't think that you'd bring him straight here…"
Will sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "I see. Sorry Crowley, I guess it wasn't the best idea. But, I've already told him he could be my apprentice, and obviously he's already seen the gathering. You're just going to hope he doesn't let it slip and send him on his way?"
Crowley stood and coughed importantly. "Ahem, I think, Will, that you are forgetting who I am." He glanced sidewise. "I am the commandant you know, and fortunately, the commandant can appoint apprentices as well as approve them." Will absorbed this.
"Hmm, interesting; I didn't know that. Well, I'm a bit disappointed, but that's the best solution. Anyway, Alyss just told me that's she's expecting a baby, so I can't take him anyway." Folding his arms behind his head, he gave a satisfied smirk. Crowley's eyebrow shot up.
"You planned this, didn't you? You knew you couldn't take him because of Alyss, so you decided to let me think I was being a genius here, is that it?"
Will nodded. "Yup. Though I didn't know you could do that anyway, so that was a bit disappointing."
Crowley shook his head. "Honestly Will, do you want to make me go grey now that you've completely greyed Halt's head?"
A grin was his response; then he asked, "Who do you have in mind for his mentor?"
"Téigh chuig inchinn abhainn bacach!" With that, the boy shoved Matt into the stream.
"What is the meaning of this?"
Four heads whipped around to see the irate young Ranger, hands akimbo*, disapproval etched on his face.
Pete stumbled over his word in his haste to explain. "Arden sir! You see, Michael, uh, well Matt…"
Arden ignored him and turned Michael to face him. "You're treading on dangerous ground boy. Why are you fighting with our apprentices?"
Sullenly, Michael looked up at him. "He insulted my horse…sir…I don't take insults lightly."
"Oh, so you decided to betray the trust Will placed in you and act so shamefully? You're pretty arrogant for a boy who hasn't even been approved yet."
A serious expression on his face, Matt climbed out at the stream for the second time. "Err, Arden, it's not really his fault. I kinda taunted him and pretty much asked him to fight."
"Is that so?" said Arden. "That's not important now. You boys, all of you, need to understand that getting angry and fighting won't solve your problem. Yes, we're Rangers, we fight for a living, but we don't fight in anger and because of small minded offence." He addressed Michael, who was staring somewhat shamefacedly at the ground; his left eye was swollen nearly shut. "If you're accepted, you'll learn lots of things, but none of it will do you any good if you can't learn that it takes a real man to walk away from a stupid fight." He glowered over the two penitent boys; Michael turned and faced Matt, offering his hand.
"Sorry Matt, I shouldn't have gotten so mad about that."
Matt grasped his hand firmly. "Ah, I should apologize. I lose my head sometimes." He shook his head admiringly. "But that was some fight, I'll hand it to you," he grinned crookedly, his jaw swelling from the initial blow, blood dripping from his nose. Facing him with one good eye and a dirtied face, Michael returned the smile. Arden nodded approvingly.
"Alright, now clean yourselves up before you go back to camp. I can bet your mentors will have something to say to you."
The boy's faces fell a bit, but Michael knelt by the stream to wash his face while Matt picked leaves out of his hair. Suddenly, he leapt over to Michael and shoved him unceremoniously into the stream.
"Payback!"
Michael came up soaked and spluttering; for a moment the spectators thought he would get angry again. He dove at the bank and grabbed Matt's ankle, pulling him back in.
"Join me for a swim why don't you!"
Laughing and smiling, Pete and Stick jumped in after them and joined the good-natured bantering and dunking while Arden and Darren, alias Sage, looked on.
Behind a tree, Will and Crowley observed the whole affair.
"Well?" breathed Crowley.
"I think," Will whispered back. "Arden is the perfect choice."
*hands on hips
The thing that Mychele shouts when she shoves Matt in, according to google translate, is Irish for "Go to the river lame brain!"
A/N Nice and long, no? I know you were probably hoping to hear more from Halt, but htis is what you get. Big thanks to Bralt, who helped me a while back with the reason why she can't be Will's apprentice. She might not remember it though...haha. And she helped me with Arden's name. :3 Please review, I hope Mychele isn't turning out to be a Mary-Sue, I'm trying to give her flaws. :P How do yo think the character development is going for her? So, pleazzzze review!:D