What Might Have Been

By Cybra

A/N: Ah, how I enjoy going against the grain! ^^ Anyway, I did some very minor editing to Chapter 1 (a word change here and added a word there), and here is Chapter 2! This looks like it's going to be a mostly Arnold and Gerald chapter! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Hey Arnold! is the property of Craig Barlett and the kingdoms and peoples of Velgarth belong to Mercedes Lackey. This little idea is my own. ^^

Chapter 2: Companion's Stable

As Arnold slipped the hackamore off of Sarabi's head, he whisper-sang "Windrider Unchained" to himself. Sarabi stood perfectly still as he quickly cleaned the piece of tack and hung it up beside her box. The young Herald stepped out of her line of sight for a few moments before he returned with a brush, comb, and hoof pick. Swiftly, he brushed her snow-white coat until it practically glowed.

He started combing her mane as he finished the last verse. "Flees the avenger, Windrider unchained!"*

"Is there any particular reason you're singing one of our more depressing folk songs while combing Sarabi's mane?" an amused voice asked.

Arnold smiled without looking at the source of the voice. "I don't see how it's so depressing. Windrider and Darshay are freed by Sunsinger and Shadowdancer, and the Dark Lord runs from them. How do you find that depressing?"

Prince Gerald crossed his arms as he came forward, a slight smile on his face. "Gee, I don't know. Maybe because Sunsinger and Shadowdancer have to give up their power to do so and then 'fall into shadow'."

Prince Gerald, the second child of the King and Queen of Valdemar, was Arnold's best human friend. The pair had met while Arnold was training at the Collegium and Gerald had come for a visit. Neither had truly known what to do with each other upon meeting one another, so Arnold had shown the young Prince about the Collegium. After a brief fight with a group of Blues, the Prince and Trainee forged a friendship.

"Hmm…You may have a point." Arnold pulled gently on a knot in Sarabi's mane. He took the knot in one hand and began to pick at it with the comb in the other. Sarabi fidgeted. "Hold still or it'll hurt more."

:It hurts now.:

"Whiner."

The Companion glared with one blue eye at her Chosen. :How would you like to be thrown from the saddle the next time we set out?:

"And show up at the Rethwellan Palace in dirty Whites? Yeah, that'll leave a great impression on the Rethwellan Royal Family."

:I meant the next time we're on normal circuit, Oh Brilliant One.:

Arnold responded by pulling a little too hard on the knot. "Oops. Sorry."

:No, you're not!:

Since he could not hear Sarabi's half of the conversation, Gerald waited patiently and listened to the seemingly one-sided exchange. Born and raised in the Palace, the Prince had been around Heralds his entire life. While most people who had never spent much time around Heralds would have thought Arnold showed the first symptoms of going mad, Gerald knew that when a Herald's eyes glazed over and they seemed to talk to empty space, he or she was actually speaking to their Companion.

"So, what do you think of the whole thing?" Gerald asked when it seemed the small argument had ended.

"About being sent out so soon? A bit unexpected, but…"

"No! I meant about the arranged marriage!"

The young Herald considered his answer carefully, finally sliding the comb easily through the knot in his Companion's mane. "Actually, it was pretty much expected."

"What do you mean 'expected'?! Arnold, I'm going to be tied down to some girl I don't even know for the rest of my life!" Gerald raged.

"And you honestly thought something like this wouldn't happen?"

The Prince blinked as Arnold finished combing Sarabi's mane and walked over to start on her tail. Playfully and partially to get him back for the yank on the knot, she kicked out slightly with her left hind leg. He easily dodged, looking irritated.

"And you did?"

"Think about it, Gerald," Arnold told him. "Alliance marriages happen all the time in the real world. As a son of a king, you had to expect that one day you would be used that way. That way both sides are sure that the other side won't attack them. If their child is married to the child of another country, why would the other country attack their own child?"

The Prince that hadn't been Chosen frowned deeply. He didn't want to admit Arnold was right at all, but the Odd was.

"Besides, I'm sure the Princess isn't all that bad."

"Well, what if this is the only way she could get married? I mean, what if she's hideous?!"

"If she's a good Queen, would it really matter what she looks like?" Arnold countered, irritation starting to creep into his voice. "If looks are all you care about in a person, Gerald, it's no wonder you haven't been Chosen!"

That seemed to put Gerald in his place. He sheepishly looked at the ground.

:A bit too harsh, wouldn't you say, Chosen?: Sarabi asked.

:Harsh, but he needs to hear it.:

:Heh. I always said you'd have made an excellent Monarch's Own if I hadn't Chosen you.:

:Thanks. I think.:

"When you're right, you're right." Gerald sighed. "And let's face it. You're right. Sorry, Arnold. I guess I sound like some kind of whiny brat."

"To be honest, you do." Arnold put down the comb and went to work with the hoof pick, Sarabi lifting her silver right hind hoof without being asked. "But I'll forgive you for it."

"Blunt honesty. Now I know why I keep you around." Gerald watched Arnold scrape bits of dirt, mud, and gravel from the glittering hoof. "Do you think it'll ever happen?"

Surprised by the sudden change in topic, the young Herald jerked his head up from his scraping. "What?"

"Do you think I'll ever get Chosen?"

Arnold looked back down at the hoof in his hand and went back to his scraping, not giving an answer right away. Most people seemed to think that the Companions allowed him access to information they normally wouldn't tell even the Monarchs due to his exceptionally close ties to Sarabi and the rest of the Companion herd. Though to be honest, they sometimes did, and that left him in some awkward situations at times since they'd have him relay that information without seeming to do that. Half the time he wondered if he worked for the Monarchs or the Companions themselves.

"Arnold?"

"I don't know. I don't always know who's going to be Chosen, Gerald. Sometimes they tell, sometimes they don't. Sometimes they may as well scream to the world 'This kid's going to be Chosen!' So I can't really tell you."

Gerald sighed, and Arnold looked up sympathetically. Like most inhabitants of Valdemar, his friend obviously longed for the touch of a Companion's thoughts. And Arnold had been one of the relatively few lucky ones to actually receive that particular gift.

"But even if you don't end up getting Chosen, you'll still have the Princess." Arnold chuckled at Gerald's wince. "Like I said before, she may not be as bad as you think!"

"Right, right." Gerald glanced towards the main doors of Companion's Stable to where a page motioned for him. "Ugh. No rest for the wicked."

"You get going so I can clean Sarabi's hooves in peace," Arnold joked. He then had to duck when Gerald took a playful swipe at his wide head.

"Talk to you later?"

"Much later. Once I get re-supplied, Sarabi and I need to haul our tails to Rethwellan."

"Oh. Right."

The Herald bent his head over the Companion mare's hoof once more and finished scraping it out before she daintily set it down and lifted the left hind hoof. His friend's footsteps soon faded away, and he sighed, heart heavy with guilt.

:You lied to him.:

:I know. And I feel really, really bad about it. But I didn't want to totally crush his dreams and tell him, "The Companions aren't planning on Choosing you since they're cooking up some little scheme that I don't really know much about." That's too cruel.:

:Maybe so, but you know that this alliance-marriage is important in any case. Having a Monarch in Rethwellan Chosen may not be a bad thing at the present moment, but it won't help much in the future. In fact, it could prove disastrous. You know how marriages where one partner is Chosen and the other isn't usually turns out.:

Arnold sighed aloud as he finished the hoof, flicked a bit of mud off the hoof pick, and released her hoof. :Unless they're lifebonded, the marriage falls apart because the tie of Companion and Herald is stronger than the ordinary tie of spouse to spouse. Only a lifebonded pair whose tie is as strong as that of a Companion and Herald would be able to survive the strain on the relationship. And since nobody is going to Choose the Princess and lifebonds are rare, it's better to not create a problem and have to deal with the effects later.:

:Well spoken, Love.:

:Thank you, thank you.:

Swiftly finishing her last two hooves, Arnold sought out Sarabi's formal tack. He found it covered in dust, still new. They had never needed the royal blue hackamore that looked much like the normal tack only with the silver bells strung along the reins before, but since the pair needed to impress royalty…

He winced and chanted, "It's a necessary evil. It's a necessary evil."

:I don't see what the problem with the formal tack is.: Sarabi whickered a laugh at her Chosen's expense. :It's very pretty.:

"It's very noisy, Sarabi! And with these 'Oh, shoot me now!' Whites, I should just march into a bandit camp, stretch out my arms, and tell them to start target practice! Remember, we still have them to worry about." Yet as he said this, he slipped the tinkling hackamore over her head, secured it, and placed the saddle pad on her back before he added the saddle.

:As if any of their horses could catch me.: Sarabi snorted, shaking her mane haughtily so that the bells jingled. :I'd leave them all with a perfect view of my tail and backside.:

"Which I don't doubt, but we still need to be careful. I seriously doubt the Princess will be used to riding someone as fast as you. We don't want her falling off by accident if we're being chased." He set the saddle on her back, secured it, and began to walk towards the doors of the stable. He called over his shoulder, "I'll be back in a few. Gotta grab the supplies."

:I'll be ready and waiting, Arnold.:

Giving her mind a mental brush that said without words that he didn't doubt her for a moment, he left Companion's Stable.

*"Windrider Unchained" is a real song of Valdemar whose lyrics are in the back of Magic's Price (the last book in the Last Herald Mage trilogy). To hear the song, you can also get the CD Shadow Stalker from Firebirdarts.com. Believe me. It's a very pretty song, though a bit sad.