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Chapter Text

A cloaked figure rode across the fields, its horse's hooves pressing lightly against the soft grass. The ranger's mind still lingered on the events of earlier.

Halt wanted to start the day with some archery practice. Will still hasn't learned to rely on the first shot which needed to change. However, the letter he received that morning changed his plans. He gave the boy instructions on what to do before setting off to Castle Redmont, wishing to discuss the matters with Baron Arald. Now he was on his way home.

As the cabin came into view, he heard voices in the distance. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying. He slowed Abelard to a stop and quietly swung down from his saddle. The horse stayed still while Halt slipped into the shadows with practiced ease.

The talking got louder the closer he crept, and soon was he able to recognize one of the voices as that of his apprentice.

He couldn't help the exasperated sigh that left him.

"If I find out he decided to ignore my orders and instead chose to slack off with some friends then he will be training twice as hard!" Halt thought, annoyed.

But he hadn't heard the other voices before. He was sure he knew Will's friends pretty well by now and these were new. And the conversation also didn't sound too friendly.

When he neared the clearing behind his cabin, he spotted three teenagers standing at the edge. Each held a wooden cane and wore a red coat, marking them as second-year battle school apprentices. Will stared at them with caution from the middle of the grassy patch, ready to react at any moment.

Halt buried himself further into his cloak, perfectly blending with the shadows cast by the house's walls. He watched the boys move forward and his apprentice immediately step backward. Subconsciously, his hand slipped to his bow.

"It's about what happened at the boar hunt," spoke one of the boys, a ginger. Halt couldn't see his face as they had their backs turned toward him, but from the sound of his voice, he could guess there was no smile there. The tension in the air was almost suffocating. Will shifted uncomfortably, aware of the hostility the others carried.

"You know," the apprentice ranger half-laughed, a bad attempt at lightening the situation: "people are talking a lot of nonsense about that. I didn't do much."

"We know," snapped the same teen from before. All of them came closer to the smaller boy, who took another step back. The uneasiness radiating off of Will mixed with the anger of the battle school trainees. Halt slowly took out his bow.

"But when you go swanking around, telling everyone you saved a big clumsy battle school apprentice, you make us all look foolish," scoffed the tallest of them. 

Halt paused and narrowed his eyes. "Is that what this is about? Do they seriously think it was Will who spread those rumors?" He suppressed the urge to shake his head in disbelief.

His apprentice turned to look at the guy, clearly confused by the statement. "I never said any of that!" he defended. That seemed to be exactly what the trio wanted, as a blond boy rushed forward, a bag held in his hands.

But he made the mistake of underestimating a ranger apprentice and didn't expect Will to react so quickly. The boy dived forward, rolling in a somersault and dodging the open sack. He swiftly swung his legs toward the blond, sweeping him off his feet and sending him to the ground. The fall knocked the air out of him and left him sprawled out in the grass. Will rolled to the side just before the tallest boy's stick collided with the space he had been in barely a second earlier.

Halt smirked at the foolishness of the three. At the same time, he was proud of how far Will had come. The boy was a hard worker and determined to learn, a trait that proved itself useful.

Still, it was a three-on-one, and as Will got up, the ginger teenager ran up to him from the back and slammed the stick right between his shoulder blades. The younger apprentice hissed in pain and stumbled forward. The tall guy took the opportunity and sent his cane into the boy's side. The blond man stood up and angrily charged at Will, striking him in the shoulder. That hit made him lose balance and the others easily shoved him to the dirt. 

Halt already held an arrow, ready to send it flying in a flash. But the movement he caught in his peripheral vision made him pause and turn his head slightly.

There, at the edge of the clearing, stood Horace. Halt remembered him from the boar hunt a few weeks ago, where he instinctively put himself in danger just to protect his apprentice. The boy was beaten badly, his entire body covered in fresh bruises and one black eye. Though he firmly held onto a wooden training sword and fierce determination glowed in his eyes.

"That's enough!" shouted the first-year battle school trainee. The three paused, canes held above their heads, ready to hit the figure cowering in the grass. All of them spun toward the sound, seeming taken aback by his sudden appearance. But only for a moment.

"Baby followed us," smiled the blond. They started moving closer to the hurt man.

The ranger pulled back the arrow. He couldn't wait to shoot it.

"Baby wants another beating," joined in the ginger, who now Halt could see had a face covered in freckles.

"And baby's going to get it," grinned the last one. All of them raised their sticks high, not noticing the menacing shadow that straightened itself.

Halt aimed and let go in not even a second. Before the arrow could hit its target, he was shooting again. Each arrow slammed into one of the sticks, specifically the ones held by the tallest and the freckled teen, and sent them propelling through the air. They both shrieked and looked at the pierced wood in horror, before staring at Halt. 

He already nocked another arrow and was pretty sure his face wasn't exactly hiding his fury.

"I think one at a time is fairer, don't you?" he asked, noticing the third boy didn't seem as fazed as his companions.

"This is battle school business, ranger. You best stay out of it," the blond, most likely the leader, tried. The fear was evident in the way he spoke, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

"Oh, so he's also stupid" thought Halt. "The audacity to say something like that to me!" The rage circling in him increased rapidly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Will attempt to get up and flinch in pain, which only fueled the ranger's wrath more.

"Battle school business is it, sonny?" he said, voice dangerously low. In the span of mere seconds, he crossed the distance between them and now stood just two steps away from their leader. The teen was about a head taller than Halt, but that shouldn't be a problem, as he had fought opponents much more dangerous than a simple battle school apprentice. The boy, however, didn't realize that, smug confidence spreading across his features.

Which was his second mistake of the day.

The first one was attacking Will.

"I seem to notice that there was a ranger apprentice being attacked," Halt slightly nodded toward Will: "I think that makes it ranger business as well, don't you?"

The apprentice shrugged. "Make it your business if you like," he sneered, unaware of the darkness that flashed in the ranger's eyes: "I really don't care one way or the other."

Halt rolled over the words in his head. There wasn't anyone here who would try and stop him from handling the situation.

He made a decision.

"Well then, I think I will make it my business," he nodded, silently perfecting his plan.

"But I won't be needing this," he hid an arrow and tossed his longbow to the side. The action caused him to turn slightly right, not facing the teen but still sensing the slight confusion his posture gained.

The apprentice didn't have any time to react as the ranger harshly stomped on the space between his arch and ankle, a truly painful place to be struck. The boy knelt down with a grunt, instinctively reaching for the foot. Halt took the opportunity and spun left, using the momentum for extra strength as his right elbow collided with the once-smug apprentice's nose. His head reeled backward along with a loud crack that echoed over the clearing.

In a matter of seconds, Halt unsheathed his ranger knife and lightly pressed it against the soft flesh of the trainee's throat. Not close enough to cause any damage, but enough to make him uncomfortable. Halt watched him gasp out of fear after noticing the blade.

"Don't you ever talk to me like that again, boy," The ranger whispered, barely audible. He felt nothing but anger and coldness. 

"And don't ever lay a hand on my apprentice again. Understand?" Some fury managed to slip its way into his voice. Though he couldn't care less. They had harmed Will, the child who was his responsibility. And Halt wanted nothing more than to show them the consequences of that decision.

A look of pure terror reflected on the teen's face. He opened his mouth but closed it shortly after without saying a word. The ranger's usually cold gaze bristled with hot rage. Halt watched the apprentice's eyes widen when the blade was pressed further against his throat. A flame of sick satisfaction ignited itself in his chest as he watched the small drops of blood slowly slip down the trainee's neck.

"Understand?" Halt half growled the word, his patience growing thinner with every passing second the boy refused to speak.

Eventually, he croaked: "Y-Yes, sir!" the fear infecting his stuttering voice.

The ranger quickly stepped back, satisfied with the response. He sheathed his knife and glanced toward the other two trainees. The corners of his mouth twitched in amusement when he spotted them shaking and holding onto each other for dear life.

"You," he pointed at the taller one: "pick up your cane." He smirked internally at how cautious the teen acted, not daring to turn his back to the ranger for even a minute. He watched him clumsily search the grass until he grabbed the stick and awkwardly held it in his left hand.

"Now give me back my arrow," the ranger commanded. Slowly, the apprentice leaned forward, just enough so the arrow was in arm's reach. Halt pulled it out of his hold and stuffed it into his quiver. A ghost of a smirk graced his lips when the teen practically jumped away.

He turned to face Horace. "I take it these are the three who gave you those bruises?" he questioned, already knowing the answer but wanting confirmation from the boy himself.

After a beat of silence, Horace looked him in the eyes and spoke: "Yes sir."

Halt nodded silently. As much as he wished to teach the three a lesson himself, he felt like Horace deserved that chance a lot more. Plus, he didn't exactly trust himself to not do something drastic.

"I rather thought so," he mumbled. "Well then, I heard rumors that you're pretty good with a sword," he looked down at the wooden weapon Horace held. "How about a practice bout with this hero in front of me?" he gestured toward the teen who still gripped the cane. 

Realization sparkled in Horace's eyes and he grinned: "I think I'd like that."

"Wait!" exclaimed the horrified battle school trainee as he took a step back: "You can't expect me to..."

The words seemingly died on his tongue when he registered Halt's furious gaze returning.

"Has he not learned anything from his companion? Does he seriously want me to do the same thing to him?" the ranger thought. He was actually considering pulling out the knife again, even reaching for its hilt. He stepped closer.

"You've got a cane, so does he. Now get on with it!" he ordered, nodding approvingly when the bully turned to Horace and raised the stick.

Halt hummed respectfully at the sheer amount of talent the first-year battle school apprentice seemed to hold. He watched as the boy parried the other's attacks with ease before sliding the sword down his branch and slamming it on the teen's knuckles. The trainee dropped his cane with a yelp and clasped his other hand around the 'injured' spot.

"I didn't hear anybody call stop," the ranger informed them calmly.

"But- he's disarmed me!" whined the older boy. Halt simply scoffed at the audacity this entire group apparently had.

"So he has, but I'm sure he'll let you pick up your cane and start again. Go ahead!" he kicked the branch closer to the teen who stared at it for a moment.

"I don't want to..." the trainee almost whispered. 

Halt had to suppress a laugh. "We'll note your protest," he said cheerfully instead: "Now, continue please!" A subtle smile crept onto his face as he watched the older battle school apprentice helplessly pick up the stick once more and brace himself for what was about to come. Surely enough, when Horace went to strike him again, the trainee shrieked and threw the branch aside.

"Who's the baby now?" the first-year battle school apprentice shook his head in disgust. Halt couldn't help but agree. Then his mind lit up with a great idea.

"If he's going to be a baby," the ranger started, staring at the trainee whose gaze instantly shot up from the ground. It was almost as if he was afraid of the older man. Good.

Halt continued his statement: "I suppose you'll have to paddle him" He couldn't help the smirk that appeared on his face at the completely opposite reactions the two of them had. The bully looked utterly horrified while Horace gleamed with delight.

The older ranger would have laughed at the scene that was playing out in front of him if he weren't so dead set on keeping up his cold demeanor. It ended with the bully lying in the grass sobbing.

"Take one more step and I'll put an arrow through you."

Halt was only slightly startled when he heard the voice of his apprentice. He turned toward Will and spotted him aiming at the ginger boy who probably attempted to escape. His apprentice probably pulled out some of the arrows that were stuck in the trees. The older ranger couldn't help but feel at least a little proud. He also felt slightly warmer at the fact the boy attempted to copy the way Halt spoke earlier when he first arrived. Though that warmth immediately dispersed upon him noticing how stiff Will's left arm was. No one else would have seen it but Halt did. It was the exact same arm that the blond teen had hit him in. The ranger made a mental note to later check Will's injuries and make sure it wasn't anything serious.

But that could wait for now.

"Good idea, aim for the left calf, it's a very painful wound," he chimed in instead, hoping no one noticed the worried look that flashed over his face. Thankfully, no one made any comments or shot him weird looks, so he could safely assume they didn't.

Will glanced at him with a small smile before hardening his gaze and continuing to stare down the freckled teen. 

Halt looked back at the crying figure on the ground. "I think he's had enough," he figured and shifted his gaze onto the ginger whose eyes flickered with fear. 

He pointed at him: "Your turn," he said. Will lowered his bow at the words, finally allowing the bully to move. 

But instead of taking the stick from Horace's outstretched hand, the teen started backing away, eyes wide. "No!" he screamed, making Halt's anger return slightly: "It's not fair! He..."

The second-year battle school trainee didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as the ranger harshly cut in. "Well of course it's not  fair," he agreed, managing to calm his voice just enough to hide any trace of anger: "I gather you think three against one is fair. Now get on with it." The statement left no space for disagreements.

The fighting commenced again, wood clashing against wood. Horace seemed to have no problem defending himself. Halt just silently observed everything.

At some point, the ginger fell down. The ranger nodded in approval when the teen rose to his feet and continued fighting without having to be told twice, even though it was evident he didn't want to. They were learning fast, that was something he would give them.

Eventually, even the second bully had enough. Halt raised an eyebrow when he dropped down, covered his head with his hands, and stuck out his backside. Horace stopped and glanced at the ranger, who gave him a slight nod.

"Why not, an opportunity like that doesn't come every day," he responded almost nonchalantly. With that said, even he was not prepared for the harsh kick the boy gave the bully, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. The ginger's nose dug into the dirt and mud.

Halt shook his head before picking up the branch they brought here and used to battle Horace. He weighed it in his hands and tsked, disappointed by their ability to choose a weapon. The thing was way too off-balanced. 

"Really not much of a weapon," he remarked: "You have to wonder why they chose it." He then turned to the blond teen who still continued to rub his ankle. The ranger threw the cane at him and ordered: "Get busy."

The group leader stared at the piece of wood in disbelief. Halt was starting to get irritated.

"But...but...but I'm injured!" the blond whined, limping a few steps as if to prove his statement. His likely broken nose was still dripping blood and was turned at an awkward angle.

"So you are, so you are..." the ranger mused.

Halt studied him, briefly considering actually sparing the boy. But it only took a single glance at Will, who held his arm in an attempt to soothe the throbbing pain in his shoulder, for him to remember it was the blond who hit the apprentice ranger in that spot. At that moment, any sympathy he may have had for the trainee disappeared.

Then he slightly lit up.

"But just a minute! So is Horace. Isn't that right, Will?" he turned to his apprentice, who grinned, catching on to what his mentor was implying.

"Definitely Halt," the boy replied cheerily. The spark of hope in the blond teen's eyes was snuffed out as soon as it appeared.

Halt shifted his attention to Horace, plastering mock concern on his face just to spite the leader of the bullies. "Are you sure you're not too badly injured to continue Horace?" he asked.

"Oh, I think I can manage," Horace smiled, though the emotion didn't seem to reach his eyes. Halt made another mental note to check his injuries as well.

But once again, that could wait.

"Well, that's settled then!" the ranger cheered, already getting excited for the last battle: "Let's continue, shall we?" 

Halt settled back to watching when the bully's shoulders sagged in defeat and he got prepared for the fight. This one seemed to be giving Horace more trouble than the others. The ranger briefly wondered whether he may have overestimated the boy's abilities, but those thoughts were quickly thrown out after he snapped the cane of his opponent in half. The blond just stared before dropping the stick and accepting his fate.

"I don't need this," Horace dropped his sword and faced the bully.

Halt's eyebrows shot up in an instant when the boy reeled back and carried his entire body forward in a strong punch to the blond's jaw. The second-year trainee was knocked back and sent flying through the air before harshly landing. He heard a quiet gasp from his apprentice at the sight.

The other two bullies warily crouched next to their leader and tried shaking him awake. It didn't work, the blond was most likely knocked unconscious.

Horace stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. "You have no idea how good that felt," he huffed with a satisfied smile: "Thank you ranger."

Halt nodded before speaking: "Thank you for making a stand when they attacked Will." Then he remembered something and added: "By the way, my friends call me Halt." Horace nodded in acknowledgment and respect.

The older ranger shifted his attention to the trio. The two others were still shaking the unresponsive teenager, getting more panicked by the second.

Halt sighed, drawing their attention to himself. "How about the three of you leave before I decide your punishment wasn't severe enough," he suggested, the statement carrying a silent threat.

The two teens wasted no time and immediately attempted to pick up their leader. With a lot of struggle and pained grunts, they lifted him off of the ground. Halt observed this fiasco with amusement while Horace grinned like it was Christmas and Will snickered in the background. The trainees started wobbling away, almost tripping over their own feet around ten times.

When they finally disappeared, and the ranger could no longer hear them, he faced the young apprentices who looked very humored by the scene that just played out in front of them. "Alright, everyone inside the cabin," he ordered, already heading toward the steps of his front porch. He heard footsteps behind him as the two boys followed close behind. Once inside, he aimed for his room. There he grabbed the first-aid kit he kept near his bedside table.

He re-entered the kitchen with the box in hand. Horace had just sat down on a simple wooden chair near the table. Meanwhile, Will was searching through the cabinets until he pulled out a simple mug with a victorious smile. The boy then quickly ran out of the cabin, holding the cup. Halt shook his head and sighed, setting the kit on the table. Then he turned to Horace, who eyed the medkit curiously.

"Okay, I'll need to examine your injuries to make sure there isn't anything that has to be treated immediately," he explained. The apprentice blinked a few times, processing the words. 

After realization hit, he rushed to speak up: "I- thank you for the offer rang- eh, Halt, but that won't be necessary. I'm fine, only a few bruises." The boy smiled up at the ranger who narrowed his eyes and just scoffed.

"Horace, I don't know if you noticed, but you seem to have been beaten up by three people who were older and more experienced than you," Halt deadpanned, making Horace blush slightly in embarrassment: "Unless you wish to risk bleeding out due to a hidden wound, I will be checking you over." After a silent moment, the trainee nodded, and Halt moved to look over his arms. 

He only had the chance to examine one of them before Will returned with a mug full of water. The older ranger leaned back, Horace gratefully accepting the drink. He downed it in one big gulp and Halt raised an eyebrow. The teen thanked Will, who took the empty cup from his hands and carried it to the counters.

A sort of awkward silence hung in the air between the two boys and Halt made a split-second decision. "Will, finish checking Horace for any worse injuries," he ordered, heading for the door his apprentice just walked out of: "I will get cold water for the bruises."

"I- um, sure," Will muttered, startled by the sudden announcement.

The older ranger closed the outside door behind him, leaving the two boys inside alone. He walked over to the barrel with water and reached inside. The liquid inside was warm from the sun shining on it all day. With a heavy sigh, he picked up a bucket which lay nearby. He walked until he reached a river that flowed through the forest behind his cabin. There, he submerged the bucket in the chilly stream and filled it halfway. With a strained huff, he lifted it above the surface and began carrying it back to the cabin.

On the path home, he had the time to think. It was an eventful day for sure and he still had a lot more to do. For example, he needed to get more information about the trainees that attacked the two boys. If he wished to make an accurate report to Sir Rodney, it would be required. But before that, he should look over Will. His thoughts wandered to the two apprentices and his quick decision to leave them alone. By doing that, he hoped to give them enough time to talk about whatever was clearly on their minds.

As he approached the front porch, he stopped for a moment. Then before he could begin to think about it, he slowly placed down the bucket and glided up to the door with the silence only a ranger could achieve. He slid next to the wall and leaned in to hear better.

A conversation filled his ears.

"Well, I'm guessing that boar hunt was truly a new start for us. We can finally put everything behind us." chuckled the voice of his apprentice. A beat of silence followed.

"Horace, is everything okay?" the boy continued. Even though the walls muffled the sounds, Halt could still pick out his concern.

"Um, yeah just... Will, I'm- sorry." came the battle school trainee's response, more of a mumble than anything. The older ranger had to strain his hearing to understand the guilt-laced tone.

Confusion coloured the future ranger's voice when he spoke: "What- Horace, there's nothing for you to apologize for." 

Both of them would have seen Halt raise an eyebrow if they were in the same room. Even if the older man only had the chance to meet the to-be knight a few weeks ago, he was aware of his past actions. From their time in the ward, the ranger saw the smaller boy get chased up a tree by an angry Horace multiple times. He could make an assumption as to what their dynamic was back then.

A snappy response, followed by the screech of wood scooting across the floor, pulled him out of his thoughts: "Yes, there is!" The battle school trainee's words were said with all heat but no anger. The teen inhaled deeply, and most likely lowered himself onto a chair he just stood up from if the creak of old furniture was anything to go by. Only then did he continue: "I never ended up saying sorry for all the bullying."

A quick chuckle from his apprentice made Halt furrow his eyebrows. The younger ranger spoke with a bit of amusement in his tone: "Horace, it's fine, honestly-"

"No, it's not fine," Horace harshly cut in. Halt stood still as a statue. "I never should have hurt you in the first place, and for that I'm sorry," The older man could clearly hear the guilt that the trainee carried.

A quiet moment followed and the ranger thought he might be going deaf for a second. He pressed himself closer to the wall to better hear his apprentice, who quieted his voice a little: "Thank you, Horace. I've forgiven you ever since the boar hunt." Honesty was seeping through the walls along with Will's voice, a sound that held the promise of pure truth.

Halt, deducing that was probably the end of their conversation, silently pulled away from the wall and crept back to the bucket he left near the steps. He pulled it up with a barely suppressed grunt and headed back to the door.

"So, does this mean we're officially friends?" the hopeful question from Horace sounded as Halt walked back, hand hovering near the door handle.

The ranger heard the smile in Will's response: "Yeah, it does."

Halt turned the handle and swung the door open. Both of the apprentices, sitting on two chairs opposite each other, jumped at his sudden arrival. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Will was at his side in an instant, grabbing hold of the bucket in his hands. While the boy carried it to the table, the ranger snatched a cloth from the top of a fireplace.

He walked over to the two teens, catching them giving each other a silent smile. This one held no tension, just appreciation and understanding.

Will quickly moved out of the way when his mentor approached them. Halt submerged the fabric in the cold water of the bucket, briefly squeezed it of any excess liquid, and threw it to Horace, who caught it with ease. The older man noticed the bandage wrapped around the boy's right forearm.

His apprentice followed his look and spoke up to explain: "I found a shallow open wound there. It isn't deep enough to cause much trouble but it is still better to cover it with the gauze."

Halt nodded in approval: "Well done." Then he turned back to Horace: "Put that cloth on your bruises. Any time it is no longer cold, put it back in the water and then use it again."

The teen nodded in understanding and draped the wet rag over his calf. Halt deemed his condition stable, and so he shifted his attention to Will.

"Your turn," he stated blandly. The boy furrowed his brows, crossed his arms, and tilted his head to the side.

"Halt, I'm fine," he attempted, only to be immediately disproven by an involuntary flinch when he shifted his left arm. The ranger only raised an eyebrow at that.

Will frowned and tried again: "Really! There's nothing wrong, I'm fine."

Halt sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why do both of them insist they're fine when it's clear they aren't," he muttered, just loud enough for the two teens to have heard it. Horace snorted loudly, no care of how the grim ranger might receive it. Will was unable to hide the small smile that lit up his face.

Halt shook his head in fake annoyance. "Sit," he commanded while pointing at the chair near Horace and glaring at his apprentice with no real anger. The boy rolled his eyes but obeyed and sat down.

The ranger moved to check his shoulder first, as that seemed to bother him the most. He felt around the spot, a little relieved when he deduced it was just a bit sore and should be okay by tomorrow. He hastily went over the other places where he saw his apprentice get hurt in, and came to a similar result.

"They will bruise but nothing too bad," he concluded aloud, moving to grab a chair for himself. He pulled it in front of the two boys and sat down facing them.

"Now," he started, turning his gaze to Horace: "Tell me, who were those three exactly?"

Horace shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking down at his lap before returning Halt's determined stare: "They are also apprentices from Sir Rodney's school, though from the second year. Their names are Alda, Bryn, and Jerome. Alda is the one whose nose you broke and Jerome is the ginger."

The ranger nodded, saving the information for later. "Alright. How long have they been bullying you for?"

Horace furrowed his eyebrows in thought: "I think a little after I started my training there," he confessed.

Halt's eyebrows shot up: "And you never thought of mentioning it to the teachers?"

The boy straightened up more: "But it's normal there! Or at least all of the other trainees treat it like that! I thought it was supposed to toughen up our character and resilience!"

The older man leaned forward and intensely stared into the apprentice's eyes: "Horace, you do realize Rodney and the other knights are strongly against this type of behavior, correct?"

The teen went quiet. His mind seemed to start making some connections.

"So that's why they always left whenever one of our instructors showed up..." he mumbled, all defensiveness leaving his tone. All that remained was a dawning realization.

"Is that why you were so irritated at the Harvest festival?" Will asked carefully. Horace hesitated before nodding.

Halt sat back and observed the wheels turning in the boy's head a little longer. He glanced over at his apprentice who seemed to also be thinking about something. Halt closed his eyes and sighed. He will also have to bring up with Rodney the need to inform his students of the no-bullying policy.

He focused on Horace once more. The boy now looked at him expectantly, if not curious.

"Okay," the ranger broke the silence: "We will now head to the castle's infirmary, so they can properly look at your injuries, Horace."

He was already starting to get up, when Will piped up with a question: "But what will be done about those three?"

Halt stopped and glanced at his apprentice. He could see the worry he now had for his friend's safety.

Halt smiled on the inside: "I will make sure Rodney knows the full truth. After all, I have no respect for bullies."

Chapter Text

The older ranger closed the outside door behind him, leaving the two boys inside alone.

They both watched the door for a moment before Will blinked a few times and turned his attention back to the cup he was just rinsing. He finished and placed it back in the cabinets.

Meanwhile, Horace observed him silently, unsure whether to say something or not. The young ranger walked over to him and stopped, considering what to do.

"So um, I'm gonna look you over, okay?" he eventually mumbled, shifting on his feet awkwardly. Horace simply nodded: "Uh, yeah, sure!"

Will moved closer and carefully took hold of Horace's offered arm, continuing the checkup Halt started. He pretended not to notice the battle school trainee watching him and still fighting with himself on how to voice whatever he wanted to.

Will raised one of his eyebrows, a trait he gained from Halt and that he had yet to notice. He was staring at a shallow gash in Horace's right forearm, a few drops of dried blood littered around it. The edges were ragged, like the object that caused it wasn't made to inflict harm. He slowly let go of the limb and began rummaging through the med kit set on the table. 

Horace studied the wound. "I guess that got there when they ambushed me behind the armory," he mused, remembering the sting he felt in that place after falling down on a sharp rock. He was not aware of the damage it had done though. With a quiet 'yes!', Will pulled out a roll of gauze and returned to his friend. He gently but firmly wrapped the bandage around the injury. During this moment, the tension slowly eased and both apprentices relaxed more. After that was done, Will made sure that no more wounds, other than bruises, resided on the boy's body.

Satisfied with his work, he sat back on a different wooden chair, opposite the one Horace used.

"And we're done. You're welcome!" he grinned at his friend. 

Then his smile faltered as he realized he never actually thanked Horace. After all, it was he who first saved him from the three teens that attacked him. "Also, thank you for helping me when I needed you," he said shyly, looking up to meet the slightly caught-off-guard eyes of his companion.

"Of course! I promised to help whenever you needed it, I wasn't about to let you suffer through that," Horace smiled at the grateful figure in front of him. He leaned against the armrest.

Will smirked in return. "Well, I'm guessing that boar hunt was truly a new start for us," he half-chuckled: "We can finally put everything behind us."

The corners of Horace's mouth dropped. He was reminded of the way he treated the smaller boy back in the ward. How he picked on him, harmed him, and, most of all, never actually apologized for any of it. A sudden wave of guilt washed over him at the realization. A cold shiver ran down his spine and Will furrowed his brows in concern.

"Horace, is everything okay?" the ranger apprentice asked, tilting his head to the side.

The battle school trainee nodded once before responding: "Um, yeah just... Will, I'm- sorry." The shorter teen blinked a few times, confused. Why was his friend apologizing all of a sudden? As far as Will knew, he hadn't done anything wrong.

He decided to voice his thoughts: "What- Horace, there's nothing for you to apologize for."

"Yes, there is!" Horace leapt out of his seat and threw his arms out, the chair sliding a few centimeters back with a screech. He lowered himself back and composed himself before continuing: "I never ended up saying sorry for all the bullying."

At that, Will only chuckled shortly, then responded: "Horace, it's fine, honestly-" he didn't get the chance to finish as his companion cut him off. "No, it's not fine. I never should have hurt you in the first place, and for that I'm sorry," Horace shook his head.

He dared to turn his gaze upward and found a warm welcoming smile on the young ranger's face.

"Thank you Horace. I've forgiven you ever since the boar hunt," Will replied with sincerity dripping from his words. He has never blamed Horace for the times in the ward, but it still felt healing to receive a genuine apology from him. They sat in silence, appreciating the peace that settled in the air.

After a few seconds, the bigger boy spoke up: "So, does this mean we're officially friends?" He tilted his head to the side a bit, the corners of his mouth turning upward.

The young ranger looked him in the eyes before responding: "Yeah, it does."

Both teens grinned from ear to ear, delighted by the confirmation that no matter what, they would have each other's backs.

The outside door swung open, startling the apprentices out of their thoughts.

Halt carried a bucket in one hand, using the other to close the door behind him. Will swiftly shot up from his seat and rushed over to his mentor. He took the bucket out of the older ranger's hold and brought it over to the table. There, he placed it on the ground next to Horace's feet.

He glanced up to find his friend looking at him with a grateful smile and returned it.

There may have been tension between them in the past, but today a new friendship was officially solidified. The boar hunt started it and this conversation proved it.