A/N: You know, I keep finding little mistakes in the first and second chapters- like forgetting a word or making a tiny grammatical error so I'll keep updating them and fixing them whenever I find something like that. My editing can only go so far.
Alyss was gone. Kidnapped. Things had taken a turn for the worse in Norgate. Will could feel it all building up to something but what, he didn't know. Like a rope trying desperately to hold him off the ground, wearing thinner and thinner, waiting to break.
At least he and Alyss weren't totally without communication. Alyss had taught Will a way of communicating over long distance, a Courier's code, so Will knew she was at least alive and as well as she could be. She was acting strong, but she was always strong. The only difference now was that she was at somebody's mercy, and she was still strong.
This was no war, but it felt like a war to a boy- a man who knew what a war felt like. It wasn't a war they could win alone. He had the support of Erak and his Skandians. Horace, sent by Halt and Crowley, met Will to give him an extra hand.
Then it was thanks to Malcolm and Alyss that they got a lead, and thanks to them that Will and Horace ever came up with a plan they could put into action.
A party of Scotti were coming down to Macindaw to discuss terms with Keren. Will and Horace saw this as a perfect opportunity to intercept them without revealing their position to Keren. With the Scotti, the castle would be impossible to take over with so little an army. They had to stop them before they got strong.
The two friends, aided by their small army of Skandians, captured the Scotti party and took them back to Malcolm. Then there was the problem of getting information out of them… but Malcolm took care of that.
Will felt the absence of his friend by his side with every passing moment. He worried daily about what kind of things she was facing.
From what Will heard, Keren wasn't hurting her… He was hypnotizing her for information, but nothing else. Was that lucky or suspicious? Will didn't know, and he didn't want to worry anybody, so he kept it to himself. There was only one thing he could do, and that was take down Macindaw and rescue her.
And they didn't waste any time doing that. It was tricky. Creating a battle strategy felt similar to a maze. To accomplish their goal they had to twist in and around corners; climb the walls (because that wasn't cheating, and all is fair in love and war); sometimes run into several dead ends and retrace their steps, and with work and creativity, they could find their way out.
Will decided he would be the one to rescue Alyss and kill Keren personally, if it came down to it. He couldn't wait to pull the edge of a knife across Keren's throat.
He scared himself sometimes, thinking like that. Lately he had become so bloodthirsty and he didn't like it. This was why he hated war.
He hated war because he could always taste blood on the tip of his tongue when he said he did. He hated war because of what it did to his friends. He hated war because when Keren hypnotized Alyss again and told her to kill Will, she said she would.
Keren told her Will wouldn't lay a finger on her, and she believed him, and she would've believed him if she wasn't under a spell. It was true. Will thought about temporarily disabling her so she wouldn't be able to hurt him, but if she was truly under a spell, she would stop at nothing to hurt him. A shot to the leg wouldn't take her down. She would limp to him. A shot to both legs wouldn't stop her in her tracks. She could crawl.
For a minute Will tried to bargain with the crazy man. He promised Keren escape if he released
her from the spell. Keren played along, and Will figured if Keren and Alyss escaped he could just hunt them down later.
Secretly Will was praying it would work, because he had an idea of what would break the spell, and he would give a year of his life to not have to do it.
Then, at the last moment, Keren turned and screamed, "Kill him! Kill him now!"
And Will had to say it. Alyss turned and raised the sword above her head, about to cut Will in two- Will, who would let her if there was no other choice…
He whispered, "Alyss, I love you, and I always have."
She stopped. She didn't stop, she froze. Something in Will burned. After the initial shock faded, Alyss collapsed to the ground sobbing like he'd never seen her sob before. Will felt like doing the same, but instead he launched himself at the bastard Keren. With every cut through the air or his skin, he drew blood. Keren was an expert swordsman, but Will was beyond angry. Rage drove him past Keren's guard, past his sword and through to his heart.
Keren's life was Will's before he hit the ground. Some of Will's muscles began to relax when he knew he was dead. Alyss's shock, surely there even if he didn't turn around, didn't register in his mind. All he could hear was his words: "Alyss, I love you, and I always have".Poison in his mouth… Lies, all fucking lies.
He was just calm enough to hug Alyss back when she put her arms around him. Just enough so that he felt a little bit warmer when she thanked him, and her tears glossed against his neck.
After days in Macindaw, she smelled as sweet as ever.
He didn't regret saying it. He had to break the spell, and from the way Alyss kissed him back when they were seeking out the sorcerer- and how she leaned in for another kiss when he pulled away- he knew she would respond to that. It was the only reason he won that battle.
Before he knew it, it was time to go back to Seacliff. Before he left, Will asked Malcolm whether or not Alyss would remember what he said. Malcolm gave him… an unclear answer. "Maybe," he said, and he smiled.
Great,Will thought.
Then Alyss mentioned she had been having some interesting dreams lately. Will had too, but not about her.
He told her to not think so hard about it until she got stronger. The conversation ended there.
Will was proud of his work. That pride and sense of accomplishment was the only thing keeping him from going insane over a nagging headache. It ran across his forehead and down into his stomach. It caught him around every turn. It was unbearable. Why, why did he say he loved her… He wished he knew how to cut it out of him. Those words didn't belong to her.
There was one thing he could do.
Just before he and Horace said a public goodbye, with Alyss being the public, Will pulled him over to a private spot. He reached into his cloak, into his pocket, and pulled out a sealed envelope.
"Can you give this to Halt when you get back?" Will asked. He held out the letter, and Horace reluctantly took it.
"Sure," he said. "What is it?"
"Nothing important." Horace knew he was lying. Will had pulled him into a private spot just to give him a letter. His eyes were never still; they looked around for anybody who was watching.
Will said, again, "Just make sure he gets it."
Horace nodded carefully. He didn't know what was going on, and he decided there that he didn't want to know. He promised he'd get it to him.
Will hated goodbyes. They were the worst part of every mission. He knew he'd see Malcolm again. If their lives wouldn't overlap, which they most definitely had to at some point, then he'd make sure they did. The same went for Trobar, Blackie, now Shadow, Orman, and everybody else. He could've given a big speech about it but he thought it might turn out a little sappy.
But now it was just Horace, Will, and Alyss.
Alyss turned to Will. Their eyes met. "Thank you, Will. Thank you for everything," she said.
She said it like they were saying goodbye forever. Maybe they were. Maybe she thought they were, at least, saying goodbye forever from one part of their lives.
"Thank you," Will said. "I couldn't have done any of it without you." That was true.
Alyss smiled, but it wasn't too big. It was soft, like a touch of light, just enough to bring up a room from completely darkness and enough to show the outline of a person but not enough to see their face.
She put her hands on his shoulders. He knew he couldn't move. When she grabbed his shoulders, she put her own spell on him. She paralyzed him.
So he didn't move when she leaned forward and pressed their lips together.
She kissed him even sweeter than she did the first two times, but all Will could think about was how much he wanted to break away. Even if he couldn't push her away, he wasn't kissing back. No matter how soft her lips were. It didn't feel anything like it did that night when he kissed her first.
She was still holding him in her embrace when she let his lips go. He still stayed perfectly in place. He was worried it would be too abrupt and hurt her feelings, and maybe that would expose his real feelings. He couldn't do that. Will didn't like hurting Alyss.
And someone was bound to get hurt here.
"Write to me," she said. It wasn't a question.
"I will," he replied, and she finally let go of his shoulders. He wouldn't meet her eyes when she walked away.
Will said a simple goodbye to them both, when he would've really wanted to end on a lighter note. Suddenly he didn't feel like talking much.
He and Tug rode away in silence. It wasn't until then that Will realized he wasn't breathing. He tried breathing. It felt weird in his throat.
Tug couldn't understand humans, but the feeling that hung in the air was heavier than the load he carried.
Will met Crowley at the Gathering Grounds like he did before his mission. A piece of him hoped Halt would be there, too, but he was slowly beginning to understand what made Halt duck out the first time.
That dread, that fear… like chains holding them down.
Well, Will had already sent his letter. He sent it before Alyss kissed him for the second (really the third) time, and it was a good thing, too. Had he written it after, he might've confessed everything that happened at Norgate out of guilt instead of what it really needed to say.
It was a long ride home. Will got back some time in the afternoon, when the sun was nearing its highest (and hottest) point in the sky. The sea breeze kept the hot fall weather at bay.
When Will got back to his cabin, he had five times as many letters as he expected to have. That original number was zero.
Or maybe it should be one, he thought, this idea having occurred to him when he saw the collection of letters he came back to. Five times zero is zero. Then... Well, he had lots of mail.
There was one from Orman. It came with a package, too: a new mandola. It sounded beautiful just from the few times he plucked its strings to try it out (aside from being well out of tune).
There was a letter from Crowley, a dispatch sent out to all rangers to warn them about a new threat. He kept it in mind.
There was one from Alyss, then…
Will's heart dropped. Alyss.
He swept all the other letters to the other side of the coffee table. It served no purpose, but it somehow made him feel a little better, maybe a little freer to focus his mind on one thing. Or it might give him room to throw down the letter in frustration.
With some effort, he forced his fingers to break the envelope, and unfold the letter. Alyss had pretty handwriting.
He read:
Dearest Will,
I trust this letter finds you well and happy.
Lady Pauline is keeping me busy, but she gave me some time off to entertain Horace last week. He was visiting for one of his swordsmanship classes. He said to give you his best wishes. While he was here, I told him about a strange dream I keep having. We're back in the tower, and I have Keren's sword in my hand, and he's telling me to hurt you, and I can't refuse him. But then you say the most amazing and wonderful thing, and it completely breaks his hold over me.
Horace says it might not be a dream. He believes it's a memory. I wish with all my heart that he's right, and that you did say what I think you said. He also told me that people like you and me spend too much time thinking things over and not enough time just coming out and saying them. I think he's right. Write to me please and tell me what you did say. In the meantime, I'll take Horace's advice and just say it myself.
I love you.
Alyss.
The blood in Will's veins stopped flowing, but his hands wouldn't let go of the letter. They were trembling, but they wouldn't let go.
Will clenched his jaws together, and then with an exhausted sigh, let them go lax and collapsed into the back of the couch. God, he didn't want this. He didn't want any of this.
"Fuck," he whispered.
Halt finally got back to his cabin early in the evening.
He'd been out most of the day without lunch, but his strength never failed him, and he wasn't hungry now when it should be time for dinner. He thought about not eating, but he knew he would regret it in the morning if he didn't, and it was never wise for a ranger to go without food if he didn't have to.
He'd gotten two letters since he was gone, he noticed dismissively. Halt stooped to pick them up from the porch deck, and looked through the addresses absentmindedly as he opened the door. One was from Crowley; a dispatch, he guessed. And the other…
Halt stopped just before he opened the door. His hand slid off the wood, limp, like he was too weak to hold on anymore. He kept staring at that name, waiting for it to change, or waiting to read something he hadn't read before.
He opened that letter before he got in the cabin, dropping the envelope next to him without a care. He didn't rush to open it. If anything he was lazy. He didn't think he had the strength to be excited about it.
The wind picked up, and he didn't feel a thing. It picked up the torn paper before it hit the ground, winding through the maze of trees and the darkness hanging in the air, off to somewhere Halt couldn't see.
Maybe he'd have to chase after it later.
Halt,
Hey. Long time no write. I sent this back with Horace in hopes it'd get to you quickly. I'm… not really sure how to begin this. Hi. How have you been? I've been well. Kind of.
We finished up at Norgate and took back over Castle Macindaw. All the "magic" that I thought was magic turned out to be fake, like Crowley said it might… I'm almost disappointed. It's okay, I'll run into a real sorcerer someday.
When I say 'real sorcerer', of course, I mean no offense to Malcolm. He was great, more than great. I'll have to tell you more about him.
That reminds me- my dog count is now zero. I gave Blackie to Trobar, one of the people Malcolm took in. He'll be able to care for her more than I can. So no one got to meet her in the end (but Alyss and Horace, and Malcolm, and Trobar). You'd have made fun of her anyway.
Everything's taken care of, as far as we know. Everybody's saying I did really well and I think that's true; you trained me well. Don't worry, don't worry, you can help me celebrate and shower me with compliments later. You'll get a chance.
I know you probably planned on writing me once you heard I was back home (I'm calling Seacliff home now… it feels weird), but I wanted to get in the first word. Have you been well?
I already asked that. My brain is all over the place today. I'm really jittery while writing this, if you can tell by my handwriting. I really do have something to say and it's making me nervous. You're making me nervous. This is my fourth time writing this. How are you doing it?
So, I want to see you. It's been too long and honestly, some things are much better talked about in person. Some things have happened since we last talked, things you should hear about. So there's only one thing I know for sure, right now…
Yes. You asked twice if something I said (I can't remember now) counted as a confession… and the answer is yes. In writing…
I like you, Halt. I like you, a lot, and I want to see you.
…No, that's not right. Forget that, I lied.
Halt, I love you.
Your Friend,
Will
A/N: Just a note, Alyss's letter and a few lines of dialogue (just short lines) in the beginning half are straight out of book 6. John Flanagan's, not mine.
