Ranger's Apprentice: The Tantalizing Tales

Family night

Even when Maddie was still a babe, barely months old, she was already giving her mother a hard time. And even when Maddie was still a babe, Cassandra was overprotective. Thankfully, Horace has always been there to bring the two princesses closer together.

Some days, I just think that the Royal Family-

~~~

He couldn't quite tell what had woken him. Maybe it was the wind raging outside. Maybe it was the sound of soft crying in the distance. Maybe it was the cold and empty spot next to him. Or maybe it was a little bit of all three that had infiltrated his mind and that had alerted him, telling him that he was needed.

Horace slides out of bed. He doesn't bother putting his boots on, or a shirt, nor does he pick up his sword from where it's leaning against the nightstand. His senses are awake enough to know that there's no threats lurking in the shadows. More importantly, it is night, the castle is soundly asleep and so there's no reason for him to care about walking around wearing only his pants. Especially considering where he is going.

Horace doesn't need to be a Ranger to figure out where to go and he's walked this route so often that he could do it blindly. He leaves his bedroom and crosses the living part of the Royal quarters, making his way through the door and down the hallway. Arriving at his destination, the knight finds himself in the right.

In the middle of the nursery - because that's where he went - stands a woman, small and slim. The crib next to her is empty. Instead, the baby who spends most of her nights in it, is the woman's arms.

"Hey," Horace says softly, careful not to startle either one of them.

Despite the baby's crying, the sound of his voice carries solidly through the room, a voice trained to make itself eligible on every battlefield.

Cassandra looks up to him. Her robe is tied loosely around her waist, her braided hair is messy, and, just like him, her feet are bare. When she speaks, the panic is clear in her voice, the words hard to hear in between ragged and rushed breaths.

"Crowley said I didn't make a sound after I was born. The whole ride to Araluen, I didn't cry once. But Maddie..."

Despite the sentence that can be understood as an accusation, Horace can tell that the frustration isn't aimed at the baby in her arms. Even Cassandra's next words don't make him think for a second that she's blaming the baby.

"She won't stop crying."

Rather, she's blaming herself.

"I can't make her stop crying."

That last sentence is barely more than a whisper, barely eligible over the sound of continued crying. And it's a shaky whisper at best, each vibration in Cassandra's voice unintended and uncontrollable.

Even from where he stands leaning against the doorframe, and even in the dim candle light, Horace can see the tears in his wife's green eyes.

But he doesn't approach her. Not yet.

Cassandra continues.

"I don't know what's wrong. What if something's wrong? What if I put her down and go to bed and when I wake up tomorrow, the heir to the throne is gone?"

Now only does Horace come closer. When he talks, he talks softly. The voice that speaks is not that of the leader of the Araluan army, or the voice of the trainer of recruits, or even the voice of the Champion to Araluen's crown-princess. It's the voice of a husband and a father.

"Nothing's wrong. She's just crying. Babies cry all the time."

His hands take her face, his thumbs wipe away some of the tears that are streaming down her cheeks.