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Will had been different ever since Skandia.
Halt had noticed it, of course. He noticed everything about his apprentice—the way Will sometimes went quiet for no apparent reason, the way he occasionally seemed younger than his years, and the moments when he became unusually clingy or overwhelmed by things that normally wouldn't have bothered him.
Will had noticed it too.
There were times when the world simply felt too big. Too loud. Too difficult. During those moments, he didn't feel like a seventeen-year-old apprentice Ranger. He felt small and vulnerable, and all he wanted was someone bigger and stronger to take care of everything for him.
He hadn't told Halt.
The thought of admitting it made his stomach twist with embarrassment. Rangers were supposed to be capable. Independent. They were supposed to survive difficult situations without falling apart.
Feeling small seemed pathetic.
So Will had kept it to himself.
"Will, it's time to get up."
Halt's gruff voice came from the other side of the bedroom door.
Will stuck out his tongue sleepily.
He squeezed his eyes shut again and rubbed them with both hands, trying desperately to cling to the last remnants of sleep. A soft whine escaped him as he shifted beneath the blankets.
Then he felt it.
Warmth.
Wetness.
His eyes snapped open.
Will froze.
His heart immediately began pounding.
"No," he whispered.
He looked down and felt his face burn with shame. His eyes filled with tears almost instantly, but he stubbornly blinked them away.
He couldn't cry.
He was too old for this.
He scrambled out of bed and hurried across the room, grabbing a clean set of clothes from his dresser. His hands were clumsy as he dressed, and he kept glancing nervously towards the door.
Halt couldn't know.
He couldn't.
Once he was dressed, Will bundled up the wet clothing and sheet and shoved them underneath the bed. He would deal with them later.
Hopefully Halt wouldn't notice.
He took a shaky breath before leaving the room.
"Good mornin', Hal," Will mumbled as he wandered into the kitchen.
Halt looked up from the small pot simmering over the fire. One eyebrow rose immediately.
"Good morning, Will."
Will sank into his usual seat at the table.
There was something comforting about the familiar routine. Breakfast. Chores. Training. It was easier when he didn't have to think too much.
He reached for a piece of bread and spread a generous amount of jam over it. He picked it up with both hands and took a bite.
A little jam smeared across his cheek.
He didn't notice.
When he'd finished, he looked at his sticky fingers and, without thinking, licked the jam from them.
Halt watched him for a moment.
Will then picked up the mug sitting in front of him and sniffed it suspiciously.
His nose wrinkled.
"Yuck."
Halt's eyebrow rose again.
"That's coffee."
"Don't like it."
"You usually do."
Will shrugged.
"No."
Halt studied him carefully.
"Are you feeling all right, Will?"
Will nodded quickly.
"Mhm"
It was an unconvincing answer.
Still, Halt didn't press him.
After breakfast, Will began his chores.
Or, at least, he tried to.
He dropped the plates twice while washing them, and nearly dropped a third one before catching it against his chest.
"Careful," Halt warned.
"Got it."
Five seconds later, another plate slipped from Will's hands.
Fortunately, it landed in the washing-up basin rather than on the floor.
After that came the horses.
He carried a bucket of grain into the stable, only to spill a considerable portion of it across the floor.
"Oh."
He crouched down and started scooping it back up with his hands.
Tug watched him with what looked suspiciously like amusement.
Then Will stepped backwards.
Squish.
He looked down.
There was a long pause.
"Oh."
Tug gave a quiet snort.
"Don't laugh at me."
The horse responded by nudging Will gently in the chest.
Will giggled.
For a few moments, the embarrassment disappeared.
Tug was safe.
Tug didn't care how old Will was supposed to be.
Tug didn't expect him to be strong.
Will wrapped his arms around the horse's neck and rested his cheek against the animal's warm coat.
Why are you pretending to be big?
Will's smile faded.
He glanced towards the stable entrance to make sure Halt wasn't there.
"No, tell Halt," he whispered. "He'll be mad."
Tug merely snorted.
Abelard added his own opinion with an indignant noise.
Will frowned.
"Don't you tell either."
The horses, fortunately, remained silent.
Will eventually wandered back outside.
He couldn't remember what he was supposed to do next.
There were chores.
Probably.
Maybe.
He frowned as he tried to think.
His thoughts felt fuzzy, as though someone had wrapped them in cotton wool.
He wandered towards the archery range instead.
That was something he knew.
Archery.
He could do archery.
He picked up his bow and reached for an arrow.
It took him several attempts to get the arrow properly positioned.
His fingers didn't seem to want to cooperate.
Finally, he managed it.
He planted his feet and tried to pull the string back.
Nothing.
He grunted and pulled harder.
This time, he managed to draw it perhaps halfway.
His arms trembled with the effort.
Then the bow became too heavy.
Will's fingers slipped.
The string snapped forward and struck his bare forearm.
Pain exploded through his arm.
"Ow!"
Will dropped the bow and fell hard onto his knees.
The tears came instantly.
It hurt so much.
He clutched his arm against his chest and sobbed, completely forgetting that he was supposed to be pretending to be fine.
Halt had just stepped around the corner when he saw Will drop to his knees.
The bow lay abandoned in the grass.
Halt's eyes narrowed.
"What have you done now, boy?"
Will looked up at him through watery eyes, clutching his forearm.
"It hurts."
Halt sighed and walked over.
"I can see that."
He crouched beside him and examined the reddening mark across Will's arm.
"Where's your arm guard?"
Will blinked at him.
A pause.
"Dunno."
"You don't know?"
Will shook his head.
Halt gave him a long, unimpressed look.
"You've been using a bow for years, Will."
Will's bottom lip trembled.
Halt immediately softened his tone.
"Come here."
Will hesitated.
Then he shuffled forward and practically collapsed against him.
Halt caught him with a grunt.
"Easy."
Will buried his face against Halt's shoulder and began to cry properly.
Halt frowned.
This was more than a bruise.
"Will?"
Will only whimpered.
Halt rubbed a hand slowly up and down his back.
"All right. All right. I know."
He glanced at the boy's arm again.
"It'll bruise. Nothing's broken."
Will continued crying.
"I know it hurts," Halt said. "But you're going to survive."
That earned a tiny, miserable sniff.
Halt sighed.
"Yes, I know. Very reassuring of me."
Will made a small sound that might have been a laugh.
"That's better."
Halt shifted his position, settling Will more comfortably against him.
For several minutes, he said nothing.
He simply sat there and let Will cry.
Eventually, the sobs became quieter.
Halt looked down.
Will had curled himself almost completely into Halt's lap, his knees drawn up, his fingers curled into the fabric of Halt's cloak and one thumb in his mouth.
There was something distinctly different about him.
Halt had seen it before.
Not often.
But enough.
The unfocused eyes.
The strange little noises.
The way Will had been behaving all morning.
Halt's expression became thoughtful.
"You're feeling small today, aren't you?"
Will nodded.
Halt was silent for a moment.
Then he sighed.
"You could have told me."
Will tried to answer.
Instead, he produced a string of soft, incomprehensible sounds.
Halt raised an eyebrow.
"That wasn't particularly helpful."
Will's face crumpled again.
Halt immediately regretted the remark.
"Never mind."
He adjusted his cloak around the boy.
"You don't have to explain."
Will looked up at him.
"Not mad?"
Halt stared at him.
"Mad?"
Will nodded.
Halt snorted softly.
"Of course I'm not mad."
He paused.
"Although I may be slightly annoyed that you managed to shoot yourself with your own bow."
Will gave him a wounded look.
"Not mad," Halt repeated.
Will relaxed.
Halt looked towards the cabin.
"Come on."
He stood, lifting Will with him.
Will immediately wrapped his arms around Halt's neck.
Halt adjusted his grip.
"You know, you're getting rather heavy."
Will ignored him.
"Fortunately for you, I've spent years carrying stubborn apprentices."
That earned him another tiny giggle.
"That's better."
Halt carried him back to the cabin.
He settled into the old rocking chair on the verandah, keeping Will securely in his lap.
Will curled against him almost immediately.
Halt began rocking.
He didn't say anything.
There wasn't much to say.
Every so often, he glanced down to make sure Will was comfortable.
Eventually, the boy's breathing slowed.
Halt looked down.
Asleep.
He shook his head faintly.
"Troublesome boy."
But there was no real irritation in his voice.
When Will woke, the room was dim.
He blinked sleepily and looked around.
The sheets beneath him were clean.
Someone had changed his clothes too.
He frowned.
Where was Halt?
A sudden feeling of unease settled over him.
"Da?"
There was no answer.
Will swallowed.
"Da?"
A moment later, Halt appeared in the doorway.
"What?"
Will's face immediately brightened.
"Da!"
Halt stopped.
He studied Will for a moment.
Then he understood.
"Oh."
Will reached both arms towards him.
"Da...da."
Halt's mouth twitched.
"You want me, do you?"
Will nodded enthusiastically.
Halt walked over and picked him up.
"All right."
Will immediately settled against his chest.
Halt adjusted his hold and gave a quiet sigh.
"You know, I was perfectly comfortable where I was."
Will snuggled closer.
Halt looked down at him.
"Yes, yes. I know."
He carried him towards the verandah.
"Come along, then. Since apparently whatever I was doing wasn't nearly as important as sitting here with you."
Will smiled sleepily.
Halt shook his head.
"Troublesome."
He settled back into the rocking chair.
Will curled against him.
Halt rested one hand lightly against the boy's back.
After a moment, he murmured,
"You're safe. That's all that matters."
And, for once, Will didn't need anything else.