Hullo people! Thank you to everybody who reviewed! I'm not loving this one. I had HUGE writers block and some parts are choppy. Eh, I got it done.

Disclaimer: Still don't own Ranger's Apprentice!

Chapter 2

Four-year-old Will shrieked with laughter as he chased his playmate George around the Ward's "playroom". A small room across from the main dining room, it was filled with battered old toys for the young wards. Many were old, practically falling apart, being donated by sympathetic nobles. Jenny and Alyss's raggedy dolls lay haphazardly around the floor, a wooden rocking horse lay forgotten, gathering dust in the corner of the room. A roughly sewn leather ball rolled across the faded red rug where Horace had thrown it.

Will tripped over the tassels of the rug and fell flat on his face. Jenny gasped and Horace started to giggle. Will jumped up, a huge smile on his grubby face and proclaimed to the world,

"I'm okay!" laughing he started to chase after George again. Bored of kicking his ball, Horace jumped in.

"Watch out!" He roared, "Imma big bad Wargle and I'm coming to eat you!" Jenny screamed and ran from the room. All was silent as the rest of the wards glared at Horace. Will broke the silence.

"Look what you did!" He scolded Horace, "Now we gonna get in trouble!" He lowered his voice, "We gonna half'ta get a bath!" Horace stomped his foot sending a cloud of dust swirling into the air.

"I don't wanna bath!" Suddenly, Matron Constance walked in with a disappointed look on her face. The matron was a short, plump woman of forty. Her hair was mousey brown with ever growing streaks of silver. Jenny clung to her arm, eyes red and puffy and tear stains in the corners of her eyes. With great effort, The Matron untangled Jenny from her dress and gave her a nudge towards Alyss, who hugged her and glared at Horace. The Matron turned to the bashful toddler.

"Horace, that was a very scary thing you did there, and Jenny was frightened. Please promise me you won't do it again." Horace lowered his head in shame.

"I promise." he turned to Jenny, "I'm sorry Jenny." Matron Constance smiled, brightening the room a little. She turned to the rest of the wards,

"Now, who's ready for a bath!" the children groaned and Will shouted,

"No!" Their caretaker crossed her arms and Will gulped.

"Baths, end of discussion."

LINE BREAK!

Matron Constance herded her wards out of the washroom and down the dimly lit hallway. Sighing, she looked at the children fondly They were all growing up so fast and she was so proud of them all. Raising her voice above the chattering, she clapped her hands together. All five pairs of startled eyes swept upwards.

"Who's ready for bed?" the rag tag group groaned in sync. Will gave his best puppy dog eyes and George shouted,

"No!" He gulped and quickly apologized as Matron turned her head towards him. Suddenly Horace blurted out,

"Race you to the bedroom!" Will (who could never pass a challenge) rushed towards the age blackened door at the end of the hallway. George followed soon after. The girls walked into the room to find The three troublemakers jumping on a sagging bunk. After a quick scolding, Constance finally managed to get the wards under the covers. Tiptoeing as to not wake the peaceful slumbering of children she reached for the lamp. To the soft, steady breathing she quietly called out,

"Good night children." a soft voice from inky blackness startled her.

"Good night momma." Constance's heart melted. It had been a long time since those simple words were directed at her. Rummaging in her apron she found a match and lighted the oil lamp hanging by the door. Making her way around clothes, and shoes, and toys and sat down on the young boy's bed.

"Will, I'm not your momma sweetheart." He blinked a couple times, trying to process the information.

"But, Horace and Jenny always talked about their mommas. I thought you were my momma" Will's lower lip started to tremble "Where's my momma?" The Matron sighed, this was always the hardest part.

"Honey, your mother died." Those big brown eyes filled with tears. Death was a little bird struck down by a cat. A fly, unmoving on the windowsill. He clutched his blanket, hot tears dripping down his face. She sighed again, "Everybody here doesn't have parents Horace, George, Jenny, Alyss..." Will blinked,

"Are you a momma?" For the second time that night her heart broke. Slowly she wiped a single tear that trickled down her weathered cheek.

"I used to be." He cocked his head, studying her.

"What happened?" Her throat tight, Constance whispered,

"I had a beautiful girl named Elizabeth. She was your age when she got sick. She passed away two weeks later" Will patted her hand. Suddenly he let out a big yawn. She got to her feet. Smiling, she looked down at the young boy, eyes red and swollen and a frown on his face. Too young, for what had happened to him. "Good night Will. Sweet dreams" Will looked up at her and grinned

"Sweet dreams."

OH YEAH!

I'm changing my name to Oriande Moonshadow. Don't ask. Don't be alarmed. I'ts still me. Just with a weird name.

Cheers!