Ranger's Apprentice One Shots

I'm Not So Philosophical!

"Have you ever wondered where we would be if we didn't choose our apprenticeships?" Will asked.

Horace rolled his eyes and sighed. "You're in one of your weird philosophical moods, aren't you?"

Will kicked at the stone, trying to keep it within the trail. He kicked at it one more, but a bit too strong, and it tumbled to the side. Will frowned at it as they walked one.

"I don't have 'philosophical moods' ", he said.

"Oh yes you do," Horace argued back. "It's when you randomly spring a question — like this — to me."

Will shook his head. "Whatever. But have you?"

"Have I what?"

"Have you ever wondered where we'd be?" Will exasperated.

Horace shrugged. "Not really."

"You are so boring."

"You sound like such a girl, Will."

"You're bullying me," Will pouted.

"With the way you're sound, you deserve it," Horace huffed.

They took a moment of silence, letting nature add its fill. Leaves crunched underfoot, yellow and orange and green, dead and cracking to the slightest pressure. Will loved it. The sound of crickling leaves was intoxicating. Satisfying.

Autumn was coming to an end, but to Will, that was the best part. He had the best memories in Fall. the Harvest Festival, sneaking out as a child to the forest, watching squirrels gather acorns and foxes slip by. He loved the noises the season brought with it — howling winds, but cozily so, the leaves, and the bugs that seemed to quiet down, chirping less. Better foods in this season, too, Will supposed. Pumpkins, pears, apples, and gourds.

He had a small break now, for a day, memorializing the fallen soldiers that fought for Morgarath, nearly two years ago Will glanced at his big friend, realizing suddenly that Horace could've very well been one of those they mourned today.

Halt had given him off, and in his turn, left to Castle Araluen for some Court Politics. It was good, Crowley said, to have Halt there, appearing as the Ranger's official. That suited Will just fine, as now he had a day off completely, and sought Horace out to share it with. The knight had been one year out of battleschool, and now served in the Royal Guard for Princess Cassandra, but he managed to excuse himself from duty today, as she would be surrounded by a dozen more than usual.

So the boys had gone on a walk. The weather was simply too nice not to, and as with friends, the walk kept going and going, each fit and happy to let their feet walk while they mourned, laughed, and chatted.

"No," Horace now said.

"Excuse me?" Will pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulder, stopping a heavy breeze from entering now.

"No," Horace repeated. "I have never thought about it."

"Well, I have," Will said. Horace senses a vent about to come. "I mean, if I never became a Ranger, I'd never have met Halt and most likely been in the fields. If I hadn't met Halt, I wouldn't have met Gilan. If i hadn't met Gilan, I wouldn't have gone to Celtica with you and him, and if I hadn't gone to Celtica, I wouldn't have gone to Skandia, and so on, until i wouldn't have made my mark in this world."

" 'Made you mark in this world?' " Horace scoffed.

Will blushed. "You know...if I hadn't made any of the accomplishments, I would still be no one. A no-name."

Horace, deciding to skip out on the childhood insult he used to call Will, said, "You getting a big head from all that?"

Will chuckled. "No, I'm not, but you see my point, don't you?"

Horace nodded, his hair ruffling as the wind caught it. "Yeah I do. I also think we're extremely lucky."

"Yeah," Will muttered, thinking of his past.

"Do you think—"

But Will didn't get to hear what Horace thought because at that moment, he raised two fingers in the air, just above his heart. Horace saw the movement and stopped talking, glancing around without moving his head.

The woods they walked in were quiet, almost alarmingly so. The trees rustled. Animals scampered. But there was an overtone of muffling that seemed to be surrounding them. A foreboding.

Automatically, Will shrugged off his bow and smoothly nocked it. Horace's hand dropped to the hilt of his sword.

"What is it?" the knight said.

Will shushed him, pursing his lips but not actually making any sound. His eyes scanned left and right. Back and forth. He knew something was there. His senses told him so. No growling of an animal made way, so Will knocked out the possibility of a wild dog or wolf. A hunter? A foe?

Making a decision, he pulled the bowstring to half draw, the familiar pull of his muscles feeling good. Loudly, he called, "Out where I can see you! You, in the green!"

Horace's heart thumped in his chest. He couldn't help but admire how confident Will had become in himself and his skills. Glancing now, he noticed his friend's strong arms, veins rippling and barley and strain. Then he glanced back, focusing on the enemy at hand.

From the bushes, out came a heavy-set man, dressed with furs crudely cut and cleaned, with the smell of blood still lingering on them. Dark green clothes covered him, almost like the same camouflage as Will's. His face was a mess of scars, zig-zagging across his face. Dirt clung to every crevice, making him appear darker skinned than he probably was. But the scariest part of him was his eyes.

They were like kaleidoscopes of darkness. To match his green jerkin and breeches, the iris seemed to dance in different shades of green, forest and dark, and emerald. They looked like holes in his head, dark and terrifying, pitiless and scornful. Whatever had happened to this man, was not pretty. He had a dark history, but Horace wasn't sure if the man caused it or if he was a victim.

And curled tightly in his right fist, was a long sword.

Murder was in his eyes, and he was staring at his targets.

It was time to kill.

Yay!  I thought of a new plot... Kind of. Comment where you think it will lead... (Not me hoping you'll give me a better idea than I thought of)

I will try to make it longer next chapter. 

Go check out my other Wattpad fanfic of BBC Merlin!