Ranger 39

Pili | Royal Storyteller | Wannabe Ranger | Wattpad | Ao3 | Instagram | Main Blog

[permettez-moi]

Headcannon that Halt quite enjoys music every now and again but it typically hurts too much because it reminds him of where he comes from

[dragoneyes613]

I wonder who Sean's father was?

Since Sean was the next successor to the throne after Halt, plus Caitlyn being royalty (it was less common for princesses to have affairs than princes), I assume he was not illegitimate.

Which means that Halt's sister and brother-in-law both died before he returned to Hibernia.

Now, Sean's father is never mentioned at all. Caitlyn is, briefly, but there's barely anything about her, and we don't know how she died either. I mean, I know Sean's father wasn't important plotwise, and Caitlyn was only for Sean's existence, but what happened in-universe?

Ferris has already shown himself to be perfectly fine with killing one member of his family....

[ranger-thirty-nine]

Honestly, I feel like it wouldn’t have been royalty. If it were another prince from a different country of Hibernia, I feel like Sean would have ended in that other country because patriarchy~. That being said, I have no idea who it would have been. Probably some non-royal noble from Clonmel.

[ranger-thirty-nine]

I have just picked up my Ranger's Apprentice fanfiction again (with the intention to finally finish it), and in the process, I started looking into the dusty cobwebs that is my Google Drive and rediscovered by Caitlyn O'Carrick fanfiction plans. I did some thinking about it, and I gotta say... the more I plan out this story, the more I feel more sympathy for Ferris, NOT THAT HE ISN'T A TERRIBLE PERSON but I just think there could be something more than pure greed. (AKA I've made it so that Ferris isn't just a one-sided villain and have actually given him a personality). No spoilers for when I do eventually end up writing it, but I just wanna know... what are y'alls thoughts on Ferris O'Carrick?

[ao3feed-rangersapprentice]

by PilindielTheElf

It has been sixteen years since Morgarath’s victory. Now, he sits upon Araluen’s throne, thirsting for more power. With the Ranger Corps broken, there is no one strong enough to stop him, not alone at least.

Will, a farmer, is bored. The unknown calls to him, and saving his family is enough to push him on.

Gilan is a rising star among the knights of the kingdom. After the death of Sir David, his father, Gilan is dismayed. He knows in his heart that his death was murder, and he knows that Morgarath had something to do with it.

Crowley moves through the forests of Araluen with an entourage of “real” rangers under his command. Never having the heart to leave, he and the rangers travel across the kingdom, doing their jobs in secret, waiting for an opportunity to restore the Ranger Corps.

Halt is an assassin. When a messenger from Morgarath finds him in his home, Halt does not hesitate to take up the biggest offer he has ever received. Traveling to Araluen, he finds himself struggling with his identity and who he is really meant to be.

A farmer, knight, ranger, and assassin. Four strangers destined to rebuild Araluen from havoc. Morgarath’s reign is ending. Araluen needs to be saved.

Words: 2941, Chapters: 3/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Ranger’s Apprentice - John Flanagan

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Major Character Death

Categories: F/M, Gen

Characters: Will Treaty, Gilan (Ranger’s Apprentice), Crowley Meratyn, Halt O'Carrick, Alyss Mainwaring, Pauline duLacy, Baron Arald, Sir Rodney, Horace Altman, Cassandra | Evanlyn, George Carter (Ranger’s Apprentice), Jennifer “Jenny” Dalby, Morgarath (Ranger’s Apprentice), Original Ranger Character(s) (Ranger’s Apprentice), Ranger Corps (Ranger’s Apprentice)

Relationships: Will Treaty/Alyss Mainwaring, Pauline duLacy/Halt O'Carrick, Gilan (Ranger’s Apprentice)/Jennifer “Jenny” Dalby

Additional Tags: How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I’m Bad At Tagging, I Don’t Even Know, What Have I Done, I Tried, I’m Sorry, What Was I Thinking?, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe, Developing Friendships, The Author Regrets Nothing

[ranger-thirty-nine]

It’s been three years since I’ve been on Tumblr, but I’m thinking about posting Ignoring History on here now that I’m writing it again (with the intention of finally finishing it after 4+ years). Would anyone be interested?

[ranger-thirty-nine]

Alyss Portrait

So I drew Alyss fanart! It’s my first digital artwork in quite awhile, and I think it came out pretty well. There’s really not much to say. 

[ifeelsotiredbuticantsleep]

When Gilan was an apprentice, he often went to Redmont Castle with Halt. Sometimes, he saw Halt looking at the wards, especially a small, brown haired boy. Gilan didn’t really understand why Halt was interested in this kid, but never asked him. And then, a few years later, he met Halt’s new apprentice, and recognized the kid from Redmont Castle. 

[ranger-thirty-nine]

Gingerbread Mess

In which Jenny and Gilan try to build a gingerbread house.

Find it on Wattpad and Ao3! 

“Stop!” Jenny gasped. “If you keep eating, we’re not going to have enough!” 

Gilan grinned sheepishly. He popped another sweet into his mouth, raising his hands when Jenny glared. “Okay! Okay!” he laughed. “This is my last one.” 

Narrowing her eyes, Jenny pressed her lips together. She glanced at the ladle that sat on the counter, looking between it and Gilan. “It better be,” she said, crossing her arms and turning to look out the window. 

A light flurry of snow danced down from the sky, twirling like ballerinas as they drifted onto the white grass. It was the perfect weather for Yuletide. Cold enough to want to stay inside and cozy up next to the fire, but not too cold that you couldn’t have a snowball fight. 

Jenny smiled to herself. Each year, the holiday season managed to creep up on her. She never seemed to be ready, and it often led to last minute shopping and preparations. It was no different that year as just a few days ago, Jenny had gone out on a shopping spree to gather enough ingredients to keep her restaurant up and running. 

But as she stared out at the white dancers, it finally occurred to her that it was Yuletide. It was the happiest time of the year with magical fun and lively parties. It was the time of year when friends and family came together to catch up. Not to mention the good food. 

Jenny’s eyes fluttered shut when the aroma of gingerbread wafted into her nose. She breathed it in, grinning when the wave of nostalgic memories crashed upon her. The smell of gingerbread was rich with spice and sweetness. Enough to make her mouth water. 

It was the smell of Yule. It was like a sweet kiss, an embrace that made you feel right at home. At the same time, it was unique enough to incite good fun. It made her want to run as if she was a child, energized her as if she was a cat with catnip. 

The crinkling sound of a wrapper pushed Jenny out of her reverie. She spun on her heels. Her eyes went straight for the bowl of candy, silently counting, and then towards Gilan. She placed her hands on her hips when she noticed that his hands were behind his back. 

“Gilan!” she scolded. “I told you to stop!” 

Gilan attempted a chuckle. He stepped towards Jenny, pulling her close to his chest. “Look,” he said, turning her around to face the window again. “It’s snowing! We could build a snowman later.” 

“Don’t you try to distract me!” Jenny said. She giggled as she untangled herself from Gilan. Grabbing the ladle, she turned to give him a good whack on the hand. “I’m not that easily swayed.” 

Gilan grinned. He let go of Jenny, stepping back. He gestured at the oven. “I think the gingerbread is ready.” 

Huffing out a breath, Jenny grabbed her mittens. “I think so too,” she said, grinning as she pulled the oven open. 

“So we can build the house now?” 

Jenny laughed as she set the tray down on the table. She shook her head. “Not yet,” she said. “It has to cool first.” 

“What?” Gilan placed a hand on his heart dramatically. “More waiting?” 

“More waiting.” 

Groaning, Gilan feigned a wound. He stumbled forward, resting his chin on Jenny’s shoulder. “How do you do this?” he said. “Doesn’t it get boring to wait for food to cook?” 

Jenny snorted. “There’s a bit more to it than that.” 

“Yeah? Like what?” Gilan stood. “Eating?” 

“Among other things.” 

It didn’t take long for the gingerbread to cool, and they were soon ready to decorate. Jenny grinned when she held up the walls, gesturing to the frosting with her head. 

“Come on, Gil. I’ll hold up the walls, and you can stick them together.” 

They quickly got to work, glueing together the walls with frosting before decorating with the candies that Jenny had bought. Decorating had always been Jenny’s favorite part of cooking and baking. She loved making her dishes look pretty. Her customers all seemed to love it too, and it never failed to amuse her when they would have a hard time choosing between dishes. 

Unfortunately, decorating was Gilan’s favorite part of making the gingerbread house too. It meant that he got to express his creativity, and although Jenny loved him for it, everything got a bit chaotic 

“Stay here,” Jenny said. “I’m going to go grab some more candy from the pantry.” 

“Okay.” 

Wiping her hands on her apron, Jenny bounced towards her pantry. She quickly found the bag of candies she had bought just in case Gilan ate all of them, and when she returned back to the kitchen, her heart stopped. She gasped. 

“Gilan!” she said. “What are you doing?” 

“Making a campfire,” he said without looking up. His smile widened when the small fire he had made stayed flickering. “See? Look how cool that is!” 

“You’re going to burn the gingerbread!” Jenny said. She rushed forward, dropping the candy on the table. She waved her hands, blowing at the fire to extinguish it. 

Gilan rubbed at the back of his neck, intensely staring at the gingerbread house. The fire slowly died down, and Gilan winced when he realized that Jenny had been too late. He gulped and met her eyes. 

“Sorry?” he said. He yelped when Jenny gave him another good whack with her ladle, stepping back. He tried to laugh, nervously looking between the gingerbread and Jenny. The golden brown of the cookie was burnt near the edges, blackened into crisps. It crumbled, and the roof threatened to slide down onto the plate. 

“Now, it’s just a burnt down house,” Jenny muttered. She crossed her arms, staring down at it in disappointment. 

Gilan placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “No, no. It’s a…” He bit down on his lip, tilting his head to the side. He hummed to himself, his brain working double time. “It’s the cozy cabin of a poor family,” he finally settled with. “The couple that lives there has a young child, who loves Yuletide. They are in the process of decorating.” 

“What?” 

“Yeah.” Gilan nodded. He cleared his throat. “The family is decorating with what little they have. Their home may be broken at some places with holes and leaks, but they manage to make due. They are thankful for what they have.” 

Jenny looked down at the gingerbread house. She envisioned the family that Gilan was making up in her, painting an image in her head. A small smile appeared on her lips. “And how is this family doing?” she asked. “How are they coping with the damages their home has suffered?” 

“It doesn’t bother them,” Gilan said. He smiled. “They will gladly face anything the world throws at them because they know they have each other. Their love is enough for them to be happy. 

“It doesn’t matter whether or not they are rich or poor. It doesn’t matter that they have nothing when others have everything. They have the greatest gift of all—each other—and they need nothing more.” 

“They’re the epitome of Yule, aren’t they?” 

Gilan laughed. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, they are.” 

Jenny sprinkled some sprinkles over the roof of the house. “Love really does bring the best out of people,” she mused to herself. “This family ought to live a better life than most.” 

Nodding, Gilan agreed. He picked up the plate, moving the house aside. “True as that may be, you don’t have to be poor to have a good life.” 

“Are you saying that you want to make another house?” 

“No more fires though.” 

Jenny chuckled. “Yes,” she said. “No more fires.” 

[ranger-thirty-nine]

The Stars Reach Out

In which Will returns home for the holidays after a long mission. 

Find it on Wattpad and Ao3! 

Returning home had always been Will’s favorite part of a mission. There was a satisfaction to it that made his heart tender and his smile warm. It meant that Araluen was safer and that he had helped someone in need. It also meant that he got to lay in his own bed after days of hard work. 

Will looked up at the stars, peering between the canopy of leaves. They were the pearls of the sky, precious and full of promise. They burned with the fire of a warrior and the gentleness of a lover, scattered across the heavens as if an artist had thrown his paints down with no thought. And yet, it was the greatest thought. The stars spoke of happiness, sadness, and everything in between. To wish upon one was to fill it with the deepest pits of emotion. To gaze upon one was to be entranced with the stories of the greats. 

Tonight, Will was with the stars. He was happy, and he was content. Although it was a bit odd that Halt wasn’t by his side, he was at peace. Besides, Tug would always be with him no matter what happened. Stroking Tug’s mane, Will shuffled in the saddle. His eyes wandered around, mindlessly looking over the dark silhouettes of trees. Even in the dark, he recognized them. He had walked through the woods countless times, memorizing each step he took and loving each breath of the day. He was almost home. 

“Do you think Alyss is still up?” he said out loud. 

Duh. She always waits for me. 

Will looked at his horse incredulously. “No,” he said. “She waits for me.” 

I’m pretty sure I’m the favorite. 

“No. I am.” 

Tug whinnied. Part of Will thought that he had raised an eyebrow, but that was impossible. Tug was a horse! He couldn’t have done such a thing. 

She gives me more apples. 

“I give you apples too!” 

But she doesn’t give you any. 

Will snorted. Running a hand through his hair, he shook his head. “Everything is apples to you.” 

With good reason! 

Will laughed, tossing his head back. “Sure,” he said. His eyes widened when a shooting star shot across the sky. He gasped. “Did you see that, Tug?” 

No. 

Will smirked. “It was a sign,” he said. “Alyss likes me more.” 

I’ll let you think that. 

Rolling his eyes, Will slowed Tug to a stop. He slid onto the ground. “Come on, Tug. Let’s look for flowers.” 

In the dark? 

“I’m not going home without them.” 

But I’m tired. 

Will stared. He crossed his arms. “What?” 

I’m tired. 

“You’re just scared Alyss is going to like me more after this!” 

No, I’m not. I’m tired. 

Will scoffed. “Then you better hurry up and help me look or else we’ll never get there.” 

Tug playfully stamped his hooves onto the ground, but he did as Will said. Will grinned at him, watching him for a second before getting to work on his own. He wandered into the foliage. Spotting a flower, he quickly bent down to cut it out. 

Will chuckled to himself as memories of his apprenticeship resurfaced. He remembered how Halt would go flower picking to make the cabin seem more welcoming and livelier. It never failed to amuse him imagining how a rough man like Halt would go out to find delicate flowers. Of course, he never did it when he was looking. Somehow, Halt managed to sneak flowers into the cabin without Will’s knowing, and every week or so, there would be fresh ones in his room. 

Standing once he had collected enough flowers, Will looked back. His heart fluttered as the wind swept past. He looked up as the leaves of the canopy shifted to let starlight through. The white light sifted through the gap, shining like a beacon. Will followed its path down to the ground, where it landed on a white flower. 

Will was never one to believe in superstition or magic. He was a ranger. But he couldn’t help but think at that moment that something out there had determined his fate. That written in the stars was his destiny, his story, and his loves. He bent down next to the flower. 

Or maybe it was Yuletide magic. The holiday season started the next day, after all. And Will had always believed in holiday cheer. No matter what Halt told him. 

Cupping the white flower in his hands, Will gently plucked it out of the ground. He smiled down at it before whistling for Tug. 

“Come on, boy,” he murmured as he climbed into the saddle. “Let’s go home.” 

Tug didn’t answer, and they slowly trod towards their cabin. It didn’t take long before they spotted the warm orange light of a lantern. Will smiled softly, patting Tug on the head. 

“Happy Yuletide, Tug.” 

[banannawrites]

fluffy friday :)

december 18, 2020: winter in Redmont (after Skandia)

(okay so it’s more like hurt/comfort than straight fluff but it’s me so what can you expect? Halt is a good dad. inspired by the ten freaking inches of snow I got last night and all the lovely time my family is spending together.)

Keep reading

[redrose-arrow]

Ranger’s Apprentice playlists!

Because I wanted it, so I did it. Thank you everyone for your suggestions! If at any point you have any songs you think are appropriate for a playlist, let me know and I’ll add it! :)

Where are the playlists available? 

Spotify - redrosearrow 

Youtube - redrosearroww (mind the ww)

Overview of the playlists: 

On spotify, every name of the playlist is preceeded by “RA:”. On Youtube, every name of the playlist is preceded by “Ranger’s Apprentice:”

Skandia 

Changing the world

Sarcasm isn’t the lowest form of wit

Family isn’t bound by blood

Will

Halt

Will&Alyss

We are legends

The Royal Ranger

Warriors, fighters, heroes

[ranger-thirty-nine]

Tumble on Ice

In which Crowley attempts to ice skate and fails. 

Find it on Wattpad and Ao3! 

Crowley dropped his quill onto the table. Leaning back against his chair, he cracked his knuckles and sighed. He had finally finished sketching out a map for Pritchard, and that meant he had officially finished everything on the list his mentor had given him for that day. 

Standing, Crowley rubbed his eyes. He picked up his mug, downing the last of his coffee before looking out the window. Snow flurried down from the sky. It covered the trees and paved the ground with white. Icicles hung down from the roof, its sharp point like an icy dagger. 

From inside the cabin, he could just about see a lake. It had iced over a few days prior, and Crowley reckoned that it was probably safe enough to walk on. Of course, Pritchard didn’t share the same sentiment when he had suggested the idea. But Pritchard wasn’t there. He was at the village restocking their supplies. He didn’t have to know. 

Crowley grinned to himself. He grabbed a pair of skates from his room. He had purchased them the year before, but it had been too late then to have gone skating. Fastening his cloak, he pulled on his gloves and pushed the door open. 

The wind blasted against his face, catching him in surprise. Crowley stumbled backwards as shivers went down his body. He stepped out onto the veranda, closing the door behind him. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. 

He opened them when Cropper neighed. Crowley glanced at his horse, and he crossed his arms. “Don’t give me that look,” he said. 

This is a bad idea. 

He snorted. “I haven’t even told you the idea.” 

Don’t say I didn’t warn you. 

Crowley rolled his eyes. Huffing out a breath, he jumped down the veranda and saddled Cropper. “I would never,” he muttered. “This is a great idea.” 

Cropper seemed to laugh as Crowley mounted, but he didn’t say anything else as he trotted towards the lake. Crowley glanced at the sky. There was only a few hours before dusk, so he would have plenty of time before Pritchard returned. 

The lake was deep blue, sprinkled with little snowflakes. Under the glare of the sun, it looked like a tinted mirror. It was strangely calm and tranquil, serene like looking over the world on a mountaintop. There wasn’t a single animal; the birds had flown south, and most others had gone into hibernation. 

Sliding onto the ground, Crowley tapped a foot on the ice. He frowned thoughtfully, sharing a glance with Cropper before jumping onto it. His smile slowly grew as he stomped his feet onto the hard ice. 

“I told you!” he laughed. “It’s all good!” 

Kneeling on the ground, he strapped the ice skates onto the bottom of his shoes. He wobbled onto his feet, his arms spread out to keep balance. “Keep a lookout for Pritchard, would you?” Crowley said to Cropper. “Who knows how many chores I’ll be doing if he finds out?” 

Good luck. 

Crowley snapped his head around to face Cropper. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Nothing. 

Narrowing his eyes, Crowley glared at his horse. He made a gesture with his finger, pointing towards the direction of the village, then at Cropper, and finally at his own throat. He made a swiping motion, putting on his best intimidating face. Cropper only seemed to scoff, but it was enough for Crowley. 

He slowly walked forward. Teetering, he bit down onto his lip. His fingers closed into fists as he stepped onto the ice. Crowley yelped. 

His arms swung around him, and he lurched forward, sliding further out from steady ground. He leaned backwards. His feet slipped underneath him, and he flailed from side to side. It was a good minute until he found his balance. Not to his surprise, he could hear Cropper’s laughter from behind him. He sighed, shaking his head. 

Crowley stared intensely at his feet. He slowly slid one foot forward, and then the other. The ice was more slippery than he had originally intended, and it slightly complicated everything. In hindsight, Crowley wasn’t quite sure what he expected. Just… not this. 

A gust of wind blew against him, and he swore under his breath. His feet spread apart, and Crowley cried out as his hands instinctively grabbed his head. His left leg buckled before he could do a full split, and his eyes screwed closed when the ground came dangerously close. 

His elbows were the first thing that hit the ice. Crowley winced at the loud smack that it made, and he sucked in his breath as pain shot through his arms. He curled in on himself, groaning as he peeked open one of his ice. Slowly, he exhaled. 

Crowley rolled up one of his sleeves to examine his elbows. To his relief, his skin hadn’t broken. There would only be a bruise or two. Bending his elbows, he tested out the pain. He frowned to himself. Would Pritchard notice it when he practiced shooting? It didn’t hurt too badly, but it ached and was sure to diminish his strength quicker. 

Climbing onto his feet, Crowley hummed to himself. It was fine, he told himself. It was just a minor problem. Everything would be fine. He could still walk and talk, and nothing was stopping him from doing anything. Pritchard wouldn’t notice. 

He would be fine. 

Then, Cropper called out. Blood drained from Crowley’s cheeks, and a strand of his copper hair fell in front of his eyes. He gulped. 

Or maybe not. Maybe Pritchard would catch him. He wasn’t going down without a fight though. 

Crowley sprinted towards Cropper. He slid across the ice, perfectly gliding with his cloak flying behind him. It didn’t even occur to him that he was doing it, but a smile found its way onto his face nonetheless. 

It was short lived, and Crowley shouted when his skates caught onto an uneven piece of the ice. “Cropper!” he gasped as he tried to stop himself, twisting sideways. His hand flew over his mouth before he could let out another shout, knowing fully well that Pritchard would have heard it. 

It didn’t matter, really. He must have heard the first one. But Crowley couldn’t help but hope. False hope, it may be, but it was better than nothing. 

I warned you. 

“Oh, be quiet, you.” 

Crowley pushed himself up, and the pain that shot through his leg was unbearable. He staggered forward, landing face first onto the snow when his leg gave out. He scrunched up his face, rolling onto his back and reaching for Cropper’s reins. “Come on,” he said. “Help me up.” 

Cropper needed no signal to start running when Crowley finally got into the saddle. It felt like seconds when they got to the cabin. Crowley didn’t waste any time. He sprung out of his saddle, flinching when he put pressure on his bad leg. His hands landed on the steps of the veranda, and Crowley used it to push himself forward. 

He fumbled with the door. His heart grew louder with the second. His muscles screamed. Crowley rushed inside. He slammed the door behind him. Shrugging off his cloak, he lunged for the logs in the corner of the room and tossed a couple into the simmering fire. 

His foot burned, but he forced himself to keep going. He had only barely put on the coffee pot when the door opened to reveal a snow covered Pritchard. 

“Pritchard!” Crowley said. He put on his best smile. 

“Crowley,” he said, pulling down his hood. Pritchard looked around the room. “Did you finish everything?” 

“Of course.” 

“Did you do anything… unconventional?” 

“No.” Crowley smiled, shifting his weight on his good leg. He leaned casually against the wall. “Is coffee unconventional?” he said, nodding at the pot. 

“I heard a scream when I was on my way back,” Pritchard said. He hung his cloak next to the door and took a seat in his armchair. “It sounded awfully like you.” 

Crowley’s smile only widened. Sweat began to form on his forehead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. 

“Cropper’s saddled.” 

Oh. Crowley gulped. “You taught me to always be prepared.” 

“Your ice skates are hanging off his back.” 

“In case you change your mind, y’know?” 

“Right.” Pritchard leaned back. 

Crowley looked away when he crossed his arms and stared him down. He ran a hand through his hair. “Coffee?” he said, grabbing a mug from the cabinet. 

“Crowley.” 

Crowley slowly set down the mug. “Yes?” he quietly said. 

“You’re limping.” 

Sighing, he looked down at himself. He slumped down, taking a seat across from Pritchard. He tried to grin. “Surprise?” 

Pritchard scoffed. He knelt onto the ground, gently pulling off Crowley’s shoes. Crowley winced at the purple bruise that was already forming. He stiffened when Pritchard touched it. He gritted his teeth. Pritchard’s sigh didn’t sound good. Their eyes met. 

“What were you thinking?” Pritchard asked, calmly. 

“The ice was perfectly fine. I just tripped.” 

“You shouldn’t have gone in the first place!” 

“Why not?” 

“Crowley, your ankle is sprained. That’s going to take at most a month to heal.” 

“What?” He shot onto his ground, immediately forgetting his dilemma. Cursing under his breath, he fell back onto the chair. “Are you sure?” 

“It was your own fault,” Pritchard said, grunting as he stood. He poured himself a coffee. 

“What about practice?” 

Pritchard shrugged. “You can’t.” 

“What?” 

Pritchard met his distraught gaze evenly. He took a sip of his coffee. “Look on the bright side,” he said. “You’re going to end up great at drawing maps.” 

[forgedroyalseal]

A moment of Doubt

Alyss was glad that Will had suggested this trip to Castle Araluen. She loved seeing her husband and Horace together. They seemed so much younger, more like they were young apprentices again rather than the newly married men they truly were. And despite their rocky start, Alyss and Cassandra had grown into close friends. While their husbands sparred and ran about, the two women caught up with each other, Alyss filling Cassandra in on how Halt and Pauline were doing, and Cassandra confining in Alyss, reveling her concerns about her fathers health.

On the third morning however, Alyss woke up to an empty bed. Typically that wasn’t abnormal, Will often woke early to practice his archery, but he had told her that he intended to give his body a chance to relax while they were way. Alyss got herself ready and went down to the breakfast room, assuming Will would just meet her, Horace, and Cassandra for breakfast. Perhaps he is checking in on Tug, she thought to herself. However, when she arrived to the intimate breakfast room, she was surprised to see Horace alone at the table.

“Good morning Alyss,” He said, rising from his chair and pulling one out for her.

“Oh you don’t need to stand Horace, it’s only me.” She smiled, taking a seat in the offered chair.

“Force of habit I’m afraid, there’s lots of rules and expectations that come with being married to the princess.” Horace looks over at the door Alyss had just come through.

“Has Will finally decide to accept the fact that he’s off duty and sleep in?” He laughs.

“No actually. He was up and out of the room before I was even awake. I figured he would meet us down here.”

Horace cocks his head to the side, “Mm, Cassie was also gone early this morning. Perhaps they have run into each other, you know how they can be once they start talking.”

Alyss laughed lightly, “It’s true, and neither are very attentive to the time if they don’t need to be.”

Horace and Alyss enjoyed their breakfast, reminiscing about their youthful days back in the ward. Halfway through breakfast they were interrupted by the heavy walnut doors being flung open, reveling a slightly disheveled Will and Cassandra.

“I am so sorry we are late, that’s dreadfully rude.” Cassandra said, somewhat out of breath, as she sits next to Horace. Her hair is in a loose braid that looks like she had hastily pulled together in an attempt to look more put together.

Will kiss Alyss on the check and she noticed that his shirt was buttoned incorrectly halfway up, and his eyes were bloodshot with dark circles underneath them.

“You were up early this morning.” Horace commented to his wife. Her eyes darted over to Will and he gave the smallest shake of his head, Alyss wouldn’t have even seen it if she wasn’t staring at him so intently.

“Yes, well, I wanted to take an early walk to watch the sunrise.” Cassandra replied, before busying herself with her breakfast that a servant had placed in front of her. When the same servant went to place a plate of food in front of Will, he waved them away.

“No thank you. I am all set.” He also decline the coffee that was offered to him, opting instead to sip at his water.

“Are you feeling alright Will?” Alyss asked him.

“I am fine.” Will’s voice was soft, and his eyes didn’t quiet meet Alyss’s. Glancing between her husband and Cassandra, Alyss felt something she had never felt before in regards to Will. Doubt. Will has never given her a reason to question his loyalty to her before. That’s not to say that there haven’t been girls who have seemed to forget that he is a married man now, it’s just that Will never notices them. Or at the very least, he pretends to not notice. And because of that, Alyss is surprised when the thought of something going on between Will and Cassandra flashes across her mind.

Alyss shakes herself mentally. She’s getting ahead of herself. There is absolutely no evidence that Will and Cassandra had even been together this morning. They could’ve simply arrived for breakfast at the same time. And even if they were together, Alyss has no reason to think anything indecent happened. But the she looks at Will’s face again and she knows, she just knows, that he is hiding something from her.

Breakfast is finished in silence and the rest of the day is spent in awkward conversation, everyone trying to busy themselves with something, anything, to avoid the uncomfortable tension that thick in the air. Alyss can tell by the way Horace keeps looking between his wife and Will that he too feels that they are hiding something. Dinner was a quiet affair, and Alyss and Will’s bedroom was even quieter while they got ready for bed. Alyss could feel the tension in Will’s muscles when she laid next to him. She placed a hand between his shoulder blades, but quickly pulled it away when he flinched at the gentle touch. She sighed. Maybe everything will be better in the morning.

Alyss woke up to a cold bed in a dark room. It was the middle of the night, and Will was gone. She got up and slipped on her dressing gown and slippers. She knew that roaming around the castle in her dressing gown and night dress was definitely not proper behavior for a courier, but she just had to try to find her husband. Not knowing where to start, she simply started wandering down various hallways. A right here. A left there. Up that staircase. The dark halls of the castle had her on edge and when she felt a hand tap her shoulder and she nearly shouted.

She spun around and saw Horace, also wearing a dressing robe over his dark blue pajamas.

“What are you doing?” They said in unison. He sighed and leaned his back against the stone wall.

“I’m looking for Cassie. She wasn’t in bed when I woke up.”

“Neither was Will.” There was a beat of silence. Then another.

“Am I crazy to be worried Alyss?” He whispered.

“Yes. And so am I. We have not reason to be suspicious of something going on. It’s completely unreasonable.”

“Then why are we doing this?”

Alyss looked at him. “Because if something is happening between them, which I am sure it isn’t, then we need to know.” Horace nods, then pushes himself off the wall. He leads he down a hallway, then stops at a door the is cracked open.

He looks over to her and she nods once. He lightly pushed the door open, reveling Will and Cassandra on the floor of a library in front of a roaring fire. Will is clearly asleep, his head resting in Cassandra’s lap as she runs her fingers through his hair. She looks up at Horace and Alyss standing in the doorway and she presses a finger to her lips, then maneuvers Will’s head out of her lap and onto a pillow that she pulls off a nearby chair. She stands and leave the room. Alyss and Horace trail behind her as she walks a few paces away from the open door.

“I can only image what you are thinking right now.”She says, her voice soft.

“What is going on?” Horace sounds like he’s not sure if he’s not sure if he is angry or sad. Alyss feels the same way.

“It’s not what you think.” Cassandra bits her lip, looking for the right words.

“It better not be. Because what we are thinking is pretty bad.” Horace growls. Looks like he decided on angry.

“It’s not that. I promise it really isn’t. But it’s also not my place to tell you.”

“Well we deserve to know the truth.” Alyss says.

“Yes you do.” A voice says behind them.

They all turn and see Will standing down the hall from them in front of the library. Horace moves towards him.

“What is going on Will?” Despite Horace’s loud voice and unspoken accusation, Will doesn’t look worried, just tired. So incredibly tired.

“Let’s go in to the library and talk about this.” They all follow him in and he drops down onto a chair. Everyone else follows suit.

“First of all. There is nothing going on between Cassandra and I. I wish I could be angry that you could even think that, but considering the circumstances, I can’t necessarily blame you.”

“Fine, you say nothing is going on between you, but you are hiding something from us.” Alyss said.

Will stares into the fireplace for a moment. “When Cassandra and I were in Skandia, bad things happened to us. Really bad things. Things that still haunt us to this day. We left Skandia, but we weren’t able to leave behind the mental and physical scars that were left. Sometimes when we are together, those scars seem to surface even more. The past two nights I have had horrible nightmares.” Will is still staring into the fire and his voice trails off.

Cassandra picks the story up for him. “I found him the other night walking around the halls, shaking so badly. I brought him into here to warm up and we talked about what he dreamed about. The same thing happen tonight.”

“Why didn’t you tell me Will?” Alyss asked.

“Because you shouldn’t worry about it Alyss. And-“ He cuts himself off, stands, and start pacing in front of the fire.

“And what?” She presses.

“And you wouldn’t understand. You can’t. You weren’t there.”

“You need to tell me when you are struggling Will. I’m your wife, it’s my job to try to understand. I know that I wasn’t there, and that I can’t relate like Cassandra can, but you need to let me try.” Alyss got up and wrapped her arms around Will.

“Let’s go to bed Will.” She said, the conversation wasn’t over, but she knew that Will needed rest. He nodded and followed her out of the room, glancing back to give Cassandra and Horace a small smile.

“We should talk too.” Horace said to his wife.

“Yes, we should. But let’s wait until the morning.”

Horace kissed her forehead and nodded. It could definitely wait until morning.

[ranger-thirty-nine]

To Believe in Magic

In which Caitlyn follows Halt outside in the middle of a winter night. 

Find it on Wattpad and Ao3! 

A flicker of movement caught Caitlyn’s eye. Her heart skipped a beat. Setting down her hairbrush, she turned to peer out the window. There was no moon in the sky that night, and the air was overcast with fog. It was near impossible to see anything, but Caitlyn couldn’t help but think that she had. She knew that she had. The misty fog had parted for a split second, and she wasn’t one to believe that it was just her imagination. 

Pressing her nose up against the cold glass, Caitlyn squinted. She stood still for a few seconds, her heart the loudest thing in her room. Nothing. Huffing out a breath, she wiped her window clean with the sleeve of her nightgown. Then, it happened again. Another flicker. 

This time, Caitlyn managed to catch sight of a small figure. She frowned. There was only one person she knew who would go running off in the middle of the night. One person who had the audacity to disobey their parents. One person with the skill not to be caught. 

It was Halt, her eldest brother. Caitlyn wondered where he was going. She had never caught him in the act of leaving before. She glanced back at her door. It must have been fate that she would catch him on this day, the first of Yule. The day where dinner was more uncomfortable and tense than normal. 

Caitlyn didn’t understand it. Yule was supposed to be a happy time of the year, one filled with wonder and splendor. She had counted down the days ever since the new year, patiently waiting. Anticipating. It was supposed to be magical. 

Instead, it had been the opposite. Her parents were angrier, stricter, and Ferris held his chin up higher. And then, there was Halt. He seldom spoke nowadays, and when she would ask, he would deflect and move on. He would change the subject and leave her in the dark with no answers. One day, he had said. One day, he had promised. He had always done it, but it somehow stung more now. As if one day meant never. That he would never tell her anything. 

She supposed she would just have to take things into her own hands. 

Keep reading

[rosewood-ranger-deactivated2022]

Will: Everything is going to plan

Will: But i forgot the plan, so I'm assuming it is going to plan

[ranger-thirty-nine]

The Importance of Morning Coffee

In which all the coffee has been replaced with hot chocolate for Yuletide. 

This was written in December of 2019. 

Find it on Wattpad and Ao3! 

There was a certain something about Yuletide that Geldon couldn’t quite put a finger on. He didn’t know if it was just the idea of giving to others, the concept of holiday cheer, or even simply just magic. But when he opened his window, it didn’t matter. It was Yuletide, after all. 

A blanket of white snow draped over the bare silver trees, and the sun dazzled through the wispy clouds. Geldon smiled to himself. He could smell brewing chocolate in the air and hear the squeals of small children from afar like the ringing of silver bells. 

And then, there was another sound— gruesome and odious. Geldon laughed at it, turning. His door creaked open, and he grinned at the disheveled ranger that stood in front of him. 

“My-my,” he said. “Playing the courier, are we?" 

Crowley snorted, holding two mugs in his hands. He held one out to Geldon. "I want my coffee." 

Keep reading

[araluenrangerdanger]

Will and Horace do something stupid

Guard: your names?

Will: don't tell him, Horace

Guard, writing: Horace

Horace: great job, Will

Guard: Horace... And Will

Day 9 - incorrect quote

[willtreaty-is-my-son]

[in court]

Judge: Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?

Halt: No

Judge:

Halt:

Jury:

Judge: what now?