#king duncan

[vilewile]

Contrary to popular belief, Halt does not have a copy of Duncan's seal.

He has the original.

Duncan has a copy.

[solarishashernoseinabook]

Crowley: And what do we say when we feel demotivated? Duncan: -sighs- My name is Duncan, not Duncan't

[silveroakleafdeer]

Ranger Gathering 2025 - 8. river

A good first impression is essential. Seriously, that's how they first met: Duncan looking homeless and Halt like a wet dog.

[sparrow-writes-draws]

Ra gathering 13: vow

I love the relationships in the books between the king and the rangers, like yes you vowed to always serve him but you also vowed to check him if he’s acting out jsjsjsjssj

(Closeup under break)

[that-one-enby-ranger-2000]

Day Five: Fierce

“I hate you for making me come to this.”

Crowds of people mingled and talked loudly, gathering into small and large groups of conversation, blocking everyone's path and occasionally accidentally bumping into one another, causing brief scuffles. There was a band playing music in one corner of the room but the instruments' sounds were all but completely drowned out by the guests' endless chattering. It was hot, it was crowded, it was loud, it was far too social, and Halt hated all of it. 

“Oh stop being so dramatic,” Crowley told him. “We’re here for Duncan’s birthday, and he’s our friend.”

“I've never been to one of his birthdays before.”

“That's because you were never around in the area before. That's why I may or may not have sent you and Will on an assignment near here at this time.”

Halt glared at him. “I’ll say it again: I hate you.”

“No you don't. I’m too great for anyone to hate me.”

“That’s debateable.”

“Debate with the wall. It’s probably the only thing that’ll listen. Now shut up, and let’s go say hi to Duncan.” Before Halt could protest—not that Crowley would listen—the other ranger grabbed him by the hand and dragged him through the crowd, weaving around all the people who decided it would be a great idea to stand in a large group right in the middle of where people were walking.

Crowley spotted Duncan on the other side of the room in the far corner and when he came closer yelled out to his friend. Halt almost cringed as his friend shouted above the crowd, although no one seemed to care or notice. It was just another yell among the obnoxiously loud laughter, arguments breaking out and the excited exclamations from friends. It was all so annoying.

Duncan turned around and waved a hand to Crowley then beckoned them to come join him and the group of people he was talking to.

“Hi Duncie,” Crowley said, and Duncan rolled his eyes amusedly at the nickname. “Are you having a good night so far?”

“I am, thank you Crowley. And Halt,” he grinned down at his other friend, “Long time no see. Thanks for coming. I know these sorts of parties aren’t really your thing.”

Halt was about to mention that he hadn’t wanted to come, and that Crowley had forced him, but Crowley squeezed his hand warningly. He didn’t need to say anything for Halt to know he wanted him to shut up before he even spoke. Instead, Halt just nodded in acknowledgement.

“This is Sir Isaac,” Duncan said, gesturing to the man standing next to him. “He’s the battlemaster at Whitby. And this is Sir Finn, his second in command.” Crowley shook hands with both men in greeting, while Halt just stood back, arms folded across his chest, unintentionally glaring at them. God, he really didn’t want to be here, stuck talking to these men who he could already tell were stuck up pricks. 

“Isaac, Finn,” Duncan continued, “This is Ranger Crowley, the Ranger commandant, and Ranger Halt. I’m sure you know who they are.”

“Ah, Ranger Halt,” Sir Finn said, “You recently married, did you not? To Lady Pauline of Redmont I believe.” Halt nodded, avoiding speaking as long as possible. “Congratulations, you picked a good one. She’s really something, isn’t she? A real beauty. You’re a lucky man.” He went to clap Halt on the back, but the ranger quickly side stepped him. His unintentional glare slipped into a real one, not just at the attempted contact, but at the objectifying language Finn was using.

“Pauline, yes I remember her,” Isaac started, “I met her years ago when I visited Redmont Tried to court her if I’m being honest. I mean, imagine what I could tell people if I had managed to get a dance with her.” He laughed scornfully, seemingly forgetting Pauline’s husband was standing right there. “She rejected all my attempts, and ever so kindly told me what I could do to myself. I realised right then I was better off without her, if she was so entitled she thought she could do better than me. I honestly had begun to think she was just cold hearted and enjoyed crushing men’s feelings. Didn’t think she would ever get married, but I guess you never know how the future will turn out.”

Crowley and Duncan glanced nervously at Halt, who had gone unnervingly still. He had been quiet throughout the whole interaction, but now the quiet was laced with an underlying threat of danger for Isaac if he didn’t shut up right then and there.

“She’s not that bad,” Finn said, trying to get his commander to stop talking. Like Crowley and Duncan, he had noticed Halt’s tense posture. He didn’t know anything about Halt as a person, but he knew that rangers were dangerous people, and he could practically feel the rage that had already begun to radiate off of him.

“Agree to disagree,” Isaac said carelessly. “I think she’s quite rude. I mean, it doesn’t take that much effort to just take a fellow up on his offer for a dance does it?” 

Halt had now unfolded his arms and instead was clenching his fists tightly at his sides, his breathing growing heavier as he tried to control himself. He knew he should probably walk away, but he also couldn’t bear the idea of letting this moron insult his wife further behind his back. It was a miracle Sir Isaac hadn’t burned into a pile of ashes from the force of Halt’s glare, but perhaps it was because he hadn’t even seemed to notice. Crowley placed a hand on Halt’s arm and moved closer, preparing himself to hold his friend back if the need be.

At that moment, Will approached them, having finished the conversation he had been having with a few, surprisingly not that arrogant, young knights. He was about to offer a friendly greeting to the group, before he picked up on the tension, the greeting dying on his lips before they even left them. He took one look at Halt, immediately picked up on his mentor’s rapidly increasing anger, then took one look at Crowley’s ready position and knew things were not going alright. He made eye contact with the King, a question in his expression. Duncan held up a hand, telling him to hang on. He thought it was about time to step in before things got too out of hand.

“Isaac,” he said in a casual but firm voice, “I think that’s enough talk about Pauline. Perhaps she just wasn’t in the mood for a dance. But none of that matters now, it was all in the past.” He hoped Isaac would take the hint to drop the subject and move on, but Isaac seemed to be insistent on insulting Halt’s wife.

“If she didn’t want to dance then why would she even be there? That would just be a huge waste of time for me.” He looked around the group, searching for someone to agree with him, and his eyes landed on Halt, seeming to remember he was listening the whole time and heard every vile word he said about Pauline. Still, Isaac ignored the dangerous look in Halt’s eyes and addressed him directly.

“I must say I don’t envy you,” he said, and Crowley internally cringed. “I didn’t know it at the time, but I’m fortunate to not be stuck with some full-of-herself woman who can’t respect a man enough for a dance.”

Despite Crowley’s hand on Halt’s arm, he wasn’t fast enough to stop his friend. His face a mask of pure protective fury, Halt grabbed Isaac by the collar of his overpriced shirt and slammed him against the wall. In the same movement, he drew his fist back and with rapid speed slammed it straight into Isaac’s face with as much force as he could muster in the moment. Blood immediately began to pour from Isaac’s probably now broken nose. It poured into his mouth and down his shirt, and coated Halt’s split knuckles with it, but he didn’t care. He was about to punch him again when Crowley finally caught up to him, and grabbed him firmly on his arm, stopping the fist in its tracks. 

With a strong grip on his friend, Crowley forced Halt back and quickly wrapped his arms around him, pinning his arms to his sides. Halt struggled in his hold, trying to get another satisfying hit on Isaac’s stupid face. But Crowley held strong, and dragged him further away from the bleeding man. Will stepped in between Isaac and Halt with his hands held out to his mentor in a placating gesture even though he knew it wouldn’t do any good. 

Crowley didn’t feel bad for Isaac in the slightest—in fact, he believed the man deserved to get punched—but there was a crowd of people now watching, and it wouldn’t do good for them to witness Halt beating the shit out of a battlemaster. That, and also Crowley couldn’t guarantee that Halt wouldn’t just kill him.

Halt kicked Crowley hard in the shin in an attempt to break free, but it didn’t work. Crowley had dealt with worse from a simple kick and he continued to hold strong.

“I think we’ll be going now,” Crowley said to Duncan. “Enjoy the rest of your party.” And with that, he dragged Halt through the crowd of people, talking soothingly yet commanding to him as they went. Will quickly followed.

“Happy birthday, your majesty!” He called out to Duncan before disappearing between the sea of people.

People continued to look as they went, but a quick death glare from Halt made them look away. Crowley almost rolled his eyes. The second they stepped out of the busy hall, Crowley’s hold loosened and Halt forcefully pushed him away. He didn’t say anything to him, or even look his way. He just made his way straight to the castle stairs with the intention of going straight to the room he was staying in and being alone. 

Crowley jogged after him, and despite Halt’s obvious annoyance, walked side by side with him.

“Do you want to talk?” Crowley asked gently.

“What do you think?” Halt replied between gritted teeth. The rage was still obvious in his voice. 

“Alright then.” He had known Halt long enough to know to not push any further. What his friend needed now was time and space to himself to calm down, and Crowley was more than happy to give that to him. Subtly, he started to slow his pace and let Halt go ahead of him until he was walking by himself. 

When he reached his room, Halt immediately collapsed on his bed, curling in on himself. He took a shuddering breath, trying to calm his temper down enough to think rationally again. He just wanted to see Pauline and be with her again. First thing in the morning, he decided, he would grab Will and go home so he could hug her. 

[nepenthe-of-the-nutcracker]

Wouldn’t it have been wild if Cassandra passed at birth and so Halt just… gave Will to Duncan?

…. Who would’ve known?

(To my fellow writers: feel free to take this and run with it any way you please; i am but a humble conduit for your creativity. Go wild)

[faliem]

Pro: I've started planning out another Halt centric rangers apprentice fic

Con: this is almost certainly a way my brain is procrastinating on Short Swordsman

Pro: it should only be a one-shot! And one with a very interesting premise at that!

Con: I am also procrastinating on this fic by studying 15th century German fechtbuche for Short Swordsman

Pro: it will be studying a dynamic between Halt and Duncan that I haven't seen before

Con(. . ?): the more I plan, the more the dynamic falls into Halt/Duncan. I am aromantic. That would be difficult to write.

Pron: I am still studying fechtbuche (Psuedo-Peter von Donzig is my GOAT) ITS BEEN DAYS

Pron: the concept is very funny but I fear it will be heart wrenching

Pron: it's basically gonna be like-- 4k words of Duncan going, "you're the crown prince of Clonmel" and then Halt going, "nu-huh" "we literally played together as children" "nuh-uh" "You're my best friend!" "NUH-UH!"

Pron: I don't know where I was going with this post, but that's an update on what's going on with me with Ranger's Apprentice

Pron: I'm currently calling the fic Familiar Faces. If anyone has a better idea, please give me suggestions

[mouse02]

Duncan pretending he doesn't know about the falsificate of his seal hidden in Halt's pocket