(A/N): This is a PREQUEL to my one-shot It's the Unexpected that Changes Lives. You can read them in either order, but chronologically THIS ONE happens first.

I also wrote this for the second Ranger's Apprentice Fanfiction Challenge, even though this isn't much of a "reunion" ... I hope y'all enjoy!

"Horace!" The knight spun, looking up to where he had heard his name being called from. He could see his friend crouching at the edge of the ramparts, pointing down to the courtyard below. Horace inched forward for a better view but saw nothing that would explain what Will was pointing at. I really wish he would have stayed near me, Horace thought to himself, looking back down to look again for what he was pointing at. If something were to happen to him …

"It was Keren!" Will yelled, "I saw him go into the keep!"

Thoughts raced through Horace's mind. Will wasn't needed here anymore—the situation was under control. He wouldn't be able to leave, though, not until everything was calmed down. He wouldn't be able to go with Will.

Would Will be able to deal with Keren himself? Horace though quickly, weighing the risks to Will and to Alyss. There was no contest, though.

"Go after him!" Horace called back, "I'll take care of things here."

Will nodded before ducking out of Horace's view. Immediately, Horace felt the fear and uncertainty rise in his throat, the bile tasting poisonous. He'd been meaning to talk to Will since arriving up in Macindaw, but one thing after another hadn't allowed him too. Small things between them had made Horace question Will's stance on saving Alyss ... if it was a "Save-Alyss-Because-I-Love-Her-in-a-Romantic-Sense" type of thing, or "Save-Alyss-Because-She' s-My-Best-Friend-and-Fuck-Keren-in-Particular" type of thing.

Horace simply didn't know and didn't know how to bring it up to Will. Leaning up against the wall, Horace turned, watching the Skandians rampage in the courtyard below.

The icy swirl of wind as the door opened went up Horace's spine, and somehow he could tell immediately who was at the door. This made his job so much easier. Horace turned, studying the silhouette at the doorway. The tip of a recurve bow was visible, slung over one shoulder. Over his other shoulder, fletched arrow tips from a quiver full of arrows could be seen.

Horace rose slowly from his seat, his left hand casually dropping to the pommel of his long sword.

Suddenly, the innkeeper stood. "Please, gentlemen, there's no need for unpleasantness here."

Not knowing how to react to the man's outburst, Horace stayed quiet, looking to the man in the doorway. He saw a raised eyebrow in the direction of the innkeeper.

Then, Will snickered, a barely audible noise that the innkeeper probably didn't hear.

Horace snorted, doubling where he stood as he broke out into laughter. His shoulders shook despite him trying to suppress it. Moments later, it was echoed by Will in the doorway, throwing his head back as he laughed.

They both stepped forward at the same time, throwing their arms around each other. Instead of heartily pounding backs in greeting though, Will held on tightly … as if scared.

"You have no idea how glad I am to see you," Will murmured, arms tightening briefly around Horace's sides.

Horace smiled, recognizing Will's tendency to seek out physical comfort when stressed or worried. He tightened his own grip around Will, wanting to keep the smaller man safe. "I missed you," he whispered back, closing his eyes.

"Morning," Horace mumbled, crawling out of the small, one-man tent. He hated the feeling of those wet patches on his knees, but there wasn't much he could do. It was impossible to get out of the tent without kneeling on the damp ground.

"Wasn't so bad, was it?" Will murmured back, tipping the ceramic mug to his lips and sipping the warm coffee.

Horace pursed his lips, studying his friend. He wasn't sure how to take that statement, but considering Will was gracious enough to let him sleep in the tent with him, he should be thankful.

When he had pulled his own one-man tent out after arriving at Malcolm, he was dismayed to see that something had ripped it sometime after he had last used it. And it wasn't a small rip, either. It made it nearly unusable, a long gash going down the length of it that made a bedsheet more useful than his tent. When Will had seen that, he'd laughed, and said he had ruined his old one-man tent on the way here too but had converted a two-man tent he'd bought. He couldn't just undo his conversions, though, since he'd sewn it, but it was bigger than a one-man tent—enough to fit another person.

That night, Will had fallen asleep before Horace, probably more used to sleeping close to people than Horace was. Horace stared at the top of the tent, not sure if he liked the feeling of Will's side pressing up against his. Will moved, turning onto his side, only for his head to somehow end up resting on Horace's shoulder.

Did he like this?

Horace stepped forward quickly, over the prone figure of MacHaddish to towards the shaken form of his friend.

"Are you all right?" Horace asked, fear seeping out of his body. He put an arm around Will's shoulders to steady him. He had been searching everywhere for where Will had gotten himself to, knowing that MacHaddish might be too much for him. He had gotten there just in time, bursting in on the scene of MacHaddish forcing a dirk down towards Will's throat.

Moving around Will, he studied his friend—friend?—checking him over for injuries. His jerkin was covered in blood, but it didn't look like there were cuts in it. Where had the blood come from, though?

Suddenly, Will jerked from his grip, coughing and retching in reaction to his close shave.

"Will!" Horace shock and confusion making him reach again for him. "Are you okay?"

"I—" Will let his knees give him, dropping him to the ground. Horace kneeled next to him, a hand hesitantly cupping Will's jaw. "I—"

"You're okay," Horace murmured, his other hand brushing the mess of Will's hair out of his eyes. "You're okay, I'm here."

Will's breathing slowed from his rapid, hyperventilating that had taken him to his knees. He leaned into Horace's touch, until, finally, he leaned forward, resting his forehead on Horace's shoulder.

Horace wrapped his arms around Will, tightening his grip and holding him tightly.

"What time is it?" Horace asked, staring at the ceiling of their cart.

A deep sigh came from his abdomen, which Will was using as a pillow in their confines. "About five minutes later than the last time you asked," Will muttered, his voice coming off angry but the smile on his face saying otherwise.

Horace shifted positions, resting his knee against the side of the cart and bending his other leg to rest his ankle against his knee. It stretched his thigh, but it felt nice in the limited space they had. Will, despite being the short of the two, had the length of the cart to stretch his legs and had a pillow to boot.

"You're getting as bad as Gundar, with his constant 'Are we nearly there?'" Will finished, curling his lip as he mimicked Gundar's deep drawl.

Snorting, Horace shook his head. "I can't help it," he grumbled, a smile spreading on his own face as he watched Will's head jump up from his stomach jerking. "I don't like just sitting around doing nothing."

Will turned suddenly, laying on his stomach and moving so his face was near inches from Horace's. He was laying partially on top of Horace, fingers tracing Horace's jaw. There was a small smirk on his face. "Did you want to do something else?" he asked, mischief in his voice.

Will stumbled from the Macindaw keep, Alyss's hand held tightly in his own. She was still unsteady on her feet and was leaning on him for support. He would have preferred her to stay someplace safe so she could recover in peace, but places like those weren't easy to find in the middle of a siege. He scanned the courtyard, chest heaving as his brain processed what had transpired above in the keep. He tried to forget about it, if only for now, but it was right there.

"Will!" a deep voice called—Gundar. Will let out a deep breath, thankful to see the Skandian looking as laid-back as ever. He was strolling towards where he and Alyss stood, his battleax thrown over his shoulder. He was spattered with blood, sure, but he had a grin across his face that Will hadn't seen bigger since their banquet at Seacliff.

"Gundar," Will sighed, running his free hand through his hair. He glanced back towards Alyss, who wore his cloak around her shoulders wrapped tightly. She was looking around them, eyes wide as she took in everything going on in the courtyard. It was mostly Skandians around them, a few of Keren's men with their hands up in surrender being watched by one of Gundar's men. The look in her eyes concerned him, the way the shock hadn't disappeared since he had calmed her down and brought her to the courtyard.

"Gundar, have you seen Horace?" he asked. He had immediately noticed the absence of the knight when they had exited the keep, and despite everything that happened … all thoughts of Keren and acid and near-death experiences disappeared when he didn't see Horace right away. Did something happen to him? Was he okay?

"He's around the other side, I think," Gundar responded, nodding behind Will. "Either that, or he's still up on the ramparts." Gundar shrugged, not seeming to notice the fear in Will's voice. "Group of my men have been hanging around him, so just look for a large crowd."

Will nodded, taking a deep breath. He turned to Alyss. "Can you wait here? With Gundar?" Will slipped his hand from the courier's grip, turning to place his hands on her shoulders. She was still shaking, but his job wasn't done—not until he knew that all of his people were alright.

After a moment, Alyss nodded. She swallowed hard. "Y-yeah, I'll be fine. Go find—Horace." She forced a smile and then stepped backward towards Gundar. The Skandian looked down on her and grinned.

"Don't worry, Will," Gundar said, a proud tone to his voice, "No harm will come to Lady Alyss while I'm here."

Will couldn't help but give him a crooked smile and shake his head. He didn't doubt that. "Thanks, Gundar."

Darting around the side of the keep, Will kept his eyes open for what Gundar had described. A massive crowd of Skandians. They weren't on the other side of the keep as he had said, further back in the courtyard and closer to the southern wall. He found them eventually, though, which was what mattered. Gundar wasn't lying or exaggerating, either—he found Horace surrounded by a group of Skandians, chanting his name with their weapons up in the air. Horace's face was bright red, his cheeks flushed as the Skandians pounded his back and cheered for him. Will paused some distance away, smiling at the scene. He had no idea what might've happened while he'd been up in the keep, but Horace had obviously managed his own and then some with how the Skandians were acting with him. They were acting like he was a hero.

Then, from the middle of the crowd, Horace met Will's eyes. A wide, relieved grin spread across the warrior's face, which Will just now noticed had a few cuts and scrapes on it—which only accentuated the handsome ruggedness of his friend's face, something Will couldn't help but notice. In one fluid motion, Horace sheathed his sword and stepped in Will's direction. Will, for some reason, felt tears prick the corner of his eyes, the stress and fear from the past hour finally crashing down on him. He stepped forward to meet him, suddenly needing to be closer to Horace.

The two of them crashed together at the edge of the Skandian group, the burly, big warriors cheering without really paying attention to what was going on between Will and Horace. All they saw were the two people who organized an unlikely siege that actually worked, and they had had a great time while doing it. Skandians lived for this type of thing, hence the celebration.

Horace held Will tightly, sensing the shakiness in his friend and knowing to step forward to comfort him. Will ducked his face into Horace's shoulder, breathing deeply and centering himself on the fact that Horace was here and that he was okay. Alyss was away from Keren, and Horace was alive and okay. Everything would be okay.

Pulling away, Horace held Will at arm's length, once again studying his friend to make sure he wasn't injured. Will met his eyes, tears finally falling from his eyes as he smiled and holding tightly onto Horace's arm.

Before Horace could actually consider the thought, he found his hand coming up to cup Will's jaw and him leaning forward. Will, shockingly, tilted his head up and their lips met. Somehow, Horace hadn't expected Will's lips to be so soft, especially in the middle of winter so far north. He tasted of coffee and honey, and Horace didn't know what to do with that information besides deepening the kiss. And Will opened his lips and accepted the kiss without hesitation.

Then, out of nowhere, Horace felt a hand flatten against his chest and pressure, pushing him away from Will.

Horace broke away, taking a step back from Will as the Ranger stumbled back and increased the distance between them.

Will's eyes were wide and confused, but at the same time, there was something else in his eyes that made Horace even more confused.

"I—" Will's hand hesitantly came up to touch his lips.

"I'm sorry," Horace said suddenly, covering his face with his hands. Now that he stood some distance from Will, it finally hit him what he had done. "I'm sorry, I—I made things weird. I shouldn't have—done that, Will. I'm—"

"It's fine," Will cut in, his voice oddly void of emotion. Horace uncovered his face, watching Will. "It's fine," he said again, looking away from Horace. Neither of them said anything, not even as the Skandians around them continued to cheer and guffaw. One slapped Horace's back, jerking him forward a little. Had any of them noticed what had happened between him and Will?

"Alyss is waiting," Will finally said, brushing a hand through his hair. "We should … go."

And before Horace could say anything else … Will disappeared, the crowds of Skandians closing around Horace as the small Ranger made his way back to where he had left Alyss.

Alyss. Horace closed his eyes, wanting to hit himself. He was so stupid. Will had been so adamant about saving Alyss, they'd gotten so close since Will had moved out to Seacliff. And now he probably ruined whatever he and Will had had by not thinking his actions through. Things wouldn't be the same between them now, Horace sensed, and he didn't know what to do.

"You did well," Halt said quietly, "I'm proud of you."

Out near the tree line, Will kept his gaze steadily on Halt's own. Those words meant so much to Will, and they would mean more to him than any award or decoration. But something at the back of Will's mind wouldn't let him focus on that statement.

"Thanks, Halt," Will murmured, looking away.

Will nodded, looking back in the direction of their small camp, and where Crowley's form could be seen, huddle over some papers.

"Is everything alright, Will?" Halt murmured, catching Will's attention with barely any effort. Will looked back to his mentor, finally meeting his gaze in the dim light.

He hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath as he considered his predicament. "What—" Will's voice caught, and he swallowed and pursed his lips. "What would you do, Halt," he said quietly, "if something you thought to be true for so long turned out to be wrong?"

Halt paused, his natural frown deepening as he studied his former apprentice. He could see the storm behind Will's eyes, knew that something had happened up in Macindaw that he hadn't mentioned in the report or said in person. "How do you mean?" Halt asked gently, hoping to encourage Will to just ask plainly rather than blunder around the question.

The younger Ranger didn't take the opportunity, though, instead looking down and away. "I mean—I mean, something you knew for certain changing all of a sudden." Will gestured around them, to the trees silently listening to their conversation. "I mean—what would you do if a fact of life you always assumed turned out to be false? Or at least, not as accurate as you thought?"

Halt was silent, watching Will, processing his question. Then, he shrugged. "I'd adapt," he said simply. "If you say it's a fact of life, and that changes, then there's really nothing you can do to change it, Will. There's no point in fighting it. Better to just adapt and get used to it than to fight against something you'll never win against."

Will watched his mentor for a moment, shaking eyes going over and studying Halt's face. His mind went back to that moment in Macindaw … that kiss between them that Will had unexpectedly enjoyed. But all his life he'd never considered himself … interested in men. He hadn't even considered that an option. But now he found himself second-guessing everything about that and himself. Halt wasn't being helpful either, Will thought, with his statement to just adapt.

"Are you sure everything's alright, Will?" Halt said again, breaking into Will's thoughts. Will looked up, not realizing that he'd looked away from his mentor.

"I … yeah," he said softly, distracted. "I'm fine."

Tonight, Will decided he would stay up late and write something to Horace. What it would be, he didn't know. But it would be better to get it out sooner rather than later. Maybe he would tell Horace that there had been a misunderstanding between them, or maybe he would confess whatever he was currently feeling. Or maybe he'd invite Horace back out to Seacliff, so the two of them could talk about it face-to-face.

They would just have to wait and see.