#ranger’s apprentice fanfiction

[forgedroyalseal]

Ranger’s Apprentice Social Media AU

Season Four

pt 2

[name-s-are-not-important]

modern AU headcanon

Horace, Will and George at least once pulled off the action of coming to school in skirts in solidarity when one of the girls got in trouble for inappropriate attire. Personally, I can see that it would be Jenny, who canonically had a unique style of dress... some overzealous 'educator' once picked up on this and the next day everyone came in furiously coloured skirts in protest.

Gilan, picking up Will from school, joined the action uninvited and made a sensation among the students. He even agreed to a spontaneous photo shoot on the lawn in front of the school.

And Crowley resented that they had not told him beforehand what they were planning.

Halt laughed at being summoned to school by the management. Pauline went instead. There were no more problems.

[maidenofcrows]

Will was a child full of questions. He was a child who could wake up with inquiries already on his tongue. What’s for breakfast, where would he explore today, how did the birds learn to sing, who, what, when, where, why, and how.

Will was a boy who learned quickly. Maybe not like George did, but Halt was a good teacher. But oftentimes, unfortunate things happen. He learned quicker than ever to appreciate life wherever it happened.

Will Treaty was a man people could look to for answers. He didn’t have all that many himself, but that was just apart of being a Ranger. If you don’t have the answer, think of one. People found comfort in the fact that he could solve the problems they brought, never mind the fact he was younger than half of them.

Will Treaty was a man who liked to smile. He liked to see other people smile. Despite the intimidating front that he was supposed to put up, he liked smiling. This wasn’t a fault, he didn’t think. And during one interrogation, it worked out in his favour. As it turns out, not everybody likes to watch a man go from jovial to threatening as easy as flipping a switch.

Ranger Will was a haunted man. The villagers swore he, like the rest of his kind, dabbled in the forbidden magics. He was kind enough during the day, but there was something foreboding in the way he could stand unnaturally still, or leave without being seen. And when the sun began to set and the first signs of winter settled in, the particularly brave souls would swear they saw through his eyes as though they were glass marbles, like some sort of ghost.

Ranger Will was a man who had seen, and loved, and lost so much. He had lost the most important being in the world to him and had grown into a bitter man for it. Nobody from the village dared approach anymore. His were the eyes without light behind them. His smile was gone and the only question he had left was… Why?

Will Treaty was an uncle and a mentor. Two roles that were supposed to give guidance, to be the pillar of light amidst uncertain seas. Two important jobs. He wasn’t going to let her down.

Will Treaty grew into a capable man. Capable of laughing despite his grief. Capable of teaching others. Capable of loving after loss.

[fa11en-ang3l]

The cell was dismal and airless, and reeked terribly of blood and other things Gilan didn’t want to think about. Not that the captured party had been in there long; but already Gilan had lost proper track of time without sighting the sun for what felt like an eternity.

Halt moaned quietly in his sleep. A look of unease flitted across his normally carefully-schooled features, disappearing as quickly as it came. It had unsettled all of them, Gilan knew, to see Halt incapacitated like this. Halt, who always knew what to do next, who was always ready with an acerbic quip or a well-placed arrow. Halt, whose thorny exterior masked one of the kindest hearts. Halt, his old mentor, who fiercely loved his two apprentices but would rarely admit it, who had always been tough on Gilan and Will but hardest on himself.

The grizzled Ranger’s face was lax in sleep, making him look suddenly much younger, and Gilan felt a surge of protectiveness for the man who had saved his life on many occasions with little regard for his own.

Tears pricked Gilan’s eyes as he gazed down at the shaggy head in his lap, bruised and bleeding, and he blinked them away furiously. They wouldn’t die here, in Maashava, at the hands of scum like Yusal and Toshak. Halt would - well, there wasn’t much Halt could do right now, let alone any of them, but he believed fiercely that Will would turn up right when he was needed.

And because Halt believed, so did Gilan.

Day 12 - Capture

(CW: Blood) We get so much Halt and Will content, but I really don't feel like we get enough Gilan and Halt content. The man has TWO SONS that's canon and fact. Anyways book 7 is very precious to me, it might still be my favorite book of the series.

[theoakleafpancake]

After the celebration had finally ended, Halt decided he’d had enough of formalities and appearances. A grand homecoming to Araluen was not what he’d wanted. Now that he had Will back, all that was left to do was to return to the little cabin in Redmont and sleep for a week straight. If it weren’t for the assembly the King called for, he’d be able to do just that.

Someone knocked on the door. He gave a final tug on the straps of his pack before heading over, heaving in a silent sigh. But when the door swung open, he was met with an unexpected face.

Well, not entirely unexpected. It was bound to happen sooner or later. He’d rather it would have been later, but alas, Fate seemed to be enjoying her time with him.

“Crowley.” He stepped aside, allowing the Ranger Commandant in the room. “I thought you’d have left by now.”

“Really?” The sandy-haired man turned to look at him. “Eleven months, and that’s the first thing you have to say.”

“Eleven and one week,” he said quietly. “And I seem to recall giving you a full report earlier. So no, that is not the first thing I have said to you.”

Crowley ran a hand through his hair. “And one week.” A breathy chuckled escaped the other man. “Do you think I haven’t been counting each day?”

He raised an eyebrow. “A Ranger Commandant has more important things to do than wait for the prodigal son to return.”

“I’m sorry.” The older Ranger reached a hand towards his arm and then faltered, those light eyes desperately seeking his. “If I could go back in time, I would change everything. I would have broken you out of prison. I would have covered it all up. No one would have ever known.”

“Having everyone know was a part of the plan.”

“But why, Halt?” His voice broke. “Why would you put us through that?”

Halt raised his eyes to the ceiling. After all this time, his friend still had the nerve to ask the same question. “I don’t give you as much credit as I should. You’re not stupid, Crowley. You know the answer.”

It was the boy. Will. He would have burned the world for his apprentice if necessity demanded it of him. He had given up his life for some cheeky, over-talkative child that had somehow become an integral part of his life. Losing Will had been like losing an arm. He could have said all this and more, but he wasn’t sure if the other Ranger would ever truly understand.

“Crowley.” He laid a land on his friend’s shoulder. “You have your loyalties and I have mine. Surely you didn’t think I’d change over the years?”

“No. I never would have expected that.” The older Ranger turned away. “You always were a stubborn one.”

“And I don’t intend on changing that. I became a Ranger to help you. Not to pledge my full allegiance to a King.”

“That’s exactly what being a Ranger is.” The silver Oakleaf felt heavy around his neck. Halt knew what the Oakleaf meant. Running away from Clonmel, he was given a second chance, and that chance had been Araluen and its Rangers. He liked Duncan a great deal more than he cared to admit—certainly the Araluan was a far better King than either him or Ferris. But against all odds, that’s just what Duncan was.

A King.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Crowley said quietly. “But it seems to me you’re doing fine in that sense.”

Halt let go of the man’s shoulder. “You thought too highly of me. That’s your mistake.”

“I think just enough of you.” The redhead sighed. “My only mistake was turning you away. I’m sorry, Halt.”

He met his friend’s eyes, and saw the pain inside them, pain he was responsible for. “I am, too.”

[that-one-enby-ranger]

For the trick or treat fic fest: a trick with Halt please :D

I'm gonna take this as an opportunity to write a shorter version of a story I've wanted to write for a while now.

Halt winced in pain as he moved his leg slightly. The wound he had gotten during his fight with the kalkara would leave him unable to do some things for a while. Good thing he had an apprentice.

Speaking of his apprentice, Will know approached him eagery seeing that his mentor was awake.

"Halt, you're awake!" Will said happily, moving to kneel beside the ranger.

"You're observation skills are as keen as ever," Halt replied dryly. He tried to move into a better sitting position but winced a second time as more pain shot up his leg. Will noticed and was immediately on alert.

"Are you alright? Do you need any help?"

"I'm fine. I've had worse you know." Willnodded and backed off a little, but only a little bit. His eyes were still filled with worry and body was tense, ready to spring into action at any sign of danger.

Halt's gaze roamed around the campsite. He noticed Baron Arald resting nearby and Sir Rodney organising some equipment but he ignored them. The only thing he really payed attention to was the ruins of castle Gorlan. For the first time since he arrived he only just seemed to process where he was.

And with the location came some memories.

"I'll be back," Halt muttered to Will, and painfully tried to stand.

"Where are you going?" Will asked. He was a little worried that Halt wouldn't be strong enough to walk and wanted to help support him, but didn't know if his teacher would accept it.

"Not far." Halt's two word reply was.

"Are you sure thats a good idea?" Will asked. Halt looked at him, annoyed, but Will continued. "You only just woke up and you're injured."

"I'll be fine," Halt said firmly. He stood up the rest of the way and steadied himself for a couple seconds. He had a headache and his vision darkened slightly but soon went back to normal. Will was right, he knew. It wasn't smart to be moving around so soon. But there was something he needed to see. He could still see that was Will was worried.

"There's a path somewhere over there," Halt explained. He pointed to an area towards the back of the ruins. Looking closer, Will could see that the bushes and trees seperated a little into somehting that looked like ti could be a path. "There's something through there I want to see," Halt continued. "If I'm not back in half an hour you can come look for me, alright?" Will nodded his agreement. He still felt anxious but calmed little at the plan.

Slowly and painfully, Halt limped his way towards the path. Rodney noticed and looked up but didn't say anything. He had heard what happened at this sight around sixteen years ago and had a pretty good idea at where Halt was going.

It took Halt about ten minutes to get to where he wanted to go, and now he had to stop to take a breath. His fucked leg really was a problem. Once more of the pain subsided, he took a couple more steps forward.

In front of him was a small log that had been embeded into the ground years ago. It was rotting away and had moss covering most of it, but there were some letters carved into that was still slightly visible.

an P tc

Anyone who didn't know what the log represented wouldn't have a clue what the barely discernible letters meant. But Halt knew what they meant. He had carved them there sixteen years ago.

Sixteen years ago in that very spot, Halt had found his mentor Pritchard, lying dead in the grass, multiple stab wounds in his body. He had been with Arald at the time and the two of them had buried his body there, knowing they couldn't move it with them. Halt had found a log and carved the words:

Ranger Pritchard

Halt sat down in front of the grave now. It had been years since he had been here. That wasn't surprising. His job was too busy to go on trips to old mentor gravesights, and he had no work to do in Gorlan. Still, it would have been nice to be able to visit at least once. To be able to pay more respects to the man who had trained him, taught him to be brave and defend himself and who Halt had grown to care about more than his own father.

Minutes seemed to pass by in a flash as halt stared at the grave. Tears started to blur his vision but none of them fell. Before Pritchard had been killed it seemed impossible to imagine a life without him. Then all of a sudden Halt had to cope with everything. At least he had Crowley. But then they had to seperate as their jobs took them different ways. That had been one of the worst parts about the entire experience. Not having Crowley there.

Halt hadn't been keeping track of time properly but he had a feeling it had been a while and Will would come looking for him soon. He slowly stood up and prepared to endure more torture as he made his way back to camp. But just as he was about to leave, some dull caught his eye.

Laying in the grass a couple of feet away lay an old battered chain, with an oakleaf attached to it. Halt ran as best as he could over to it and eagerly picked it up. The oakleaf was a bit bent out of shape and rusting from years of being exposed to the weather, but Halt knew it was Pritchard's. When they had found the body, they didn't find his necklace, but Halt never thought anything of it. Who knew it had been here the whole time?

A couple tears were falling down Halt's face now and he wiped them away, pocketing the oakleaf. He had to show Crowley when he saw him.

Halt looked up as he heard the sound of some leaves rustling and saw Will appear.

"Good, you're alright," he said.

"Of course I am," Halt replied, suddenly relieved he had wiped the tears when he did. "I said I'd be fine. I was just about to come back."

Will didn't seem to be paying attention. He was looking at the grave behind Halt with curiosity.

"What is this place?"

"It's just a place. Let's go."

I don't know if Halt would be able to physically walk that well but I don't care. Hope you liked it and hoped it was angsty enough for you.

I put this shit on A03:

[peithopathos]

I made crack-treated-seriously catboy Will sickfic where more than half of the content is just Halt flipping out because his apprentice just grew fucking cat ears.

an illustration

Its 5000 words and growing.

[forgedroyalseal]

This is precious

04: Delight

Will hikes a babbling Maddie up further on his hip, smiling softly. Maddie reaches a chubby hand up to close in a fist around a lock of Will’s hair, tugging on it.

“Ah, ah, Maddie let go.” Wills tells her as sternly as he can manage (which isn’t very stern at all)

Maddie smiles and pulls on it again, giggling. Will gently unclenches her fist and moves his hair out of her grasp.

Will sets her down on the counter for a moment to tie his hair back in a short pony tail and Maddie stares at him in betrayal.

Her face screws up as she wails and Will heaves a sigh before picking her up again. He tries gently rocking her and then offering her a bottle, but nothing works.

He tugs a strand of hair out of his ponytail and dangles it in front of Maddie, allowing her to grab it. She instantly calms down and her face lights up in delight as she squeezes.

Despite himself, Will chuckles.

[caffeineinducedbeing]

The Ranger Gathering 2024: Dawn

-------

The Mourning Doves' song used to only signal the dawn of a new day.

The golden sunlight through the windows, the gentle dew drops on the grass, the crisp morning air. The bird's ritualistic song used to only signal the dawn of a new day.

They were Morning Doves.

Until they were Mourning Doves.

Now he awakens out of habit rather than ambition, the sunlight blinding him through the windows, and the crisp breeze sending a cold shiver down his spine. Nothing has changed and yet nothing is the same.

The Doves still sing their song, but their song isn't hopeful anymore, it's overworn, overused, downcast, downtrodden. An old and rusty instrument that someone insists on playing even when being thrown out would be a much sweeter relief.

He rises now because he must because it's his duty. And that's all he is now, a mournful soul struggling through each day. His footsteps echo in the quiet house, a home that once was filled with laughter and warmth, that now is hollow and cold.

Mournful.

He dresses in his Ranger's cloak, the familiar green and grey woolen material is comforting in its routine. He straps on his weapons, and without a thought toward food or even coffee, he heads out the door.

His horse waits patiently and obediently outside. Sensing that nothing in his master's attitude will be any different today from the usual sorrow, Tug nuzzles him gently, as if to tell him the same words everyone else has told him "It'll be alright, just give it time"

They bring him no comfort.

But Will strokes the horse's mane and fills his trough with oats, and the waterbucket with fresh water. Neglect himself he may, but Will Treaty will never be found neglecting his horse.

"Come on, old friend," Will murmurs when the horse finishes his food. "We have work to do."

As they ride through the forest, the trees whisper to him, which might have been a trick of the wind, but even as a child Will always felt that the trees talked to him, and always enjoyed reveling in their mystery. But now he feels disconnected, like a ghost haunting the places he once loved.

His thoughts drift back to Alyss, her smile, her laughter, the light she brought into his life. He had never really noticed how bright that light had been before it went out. He can almost hear her voice in the rustling leaves, see her reflection in the shimmering streams, hear her name whispered by the trees.

But she is gone.

It must be a trick of the wind.

Will forces himself to focus on the task at hand. There are bandits causing trouble on the outskirts of Redmont, and despite his grief, he still has a duty to protect the people. It's what Alyss would have wanted, for him to fulfill his duties, to find purpose even in his pain.

He reaches the outskirts before midmorning, the sun casting short shadows. The villagers greet him with a mixture of relief and awe; the Rangers are legends, after all, and Will Treaty is practically a god-like figure these days.

But if Will notices their admiration, he doesn't appear to care. He locks down, and locks in. Listening to their concerns, taking note of the bandits' activities, investigating their whereabouts, and now... now he has a plan.

As night falls, he sets it in motion. He hides in the shadows, doing what Rangers do more than people would ever assume, watch, and wait. The bandits arrive, confident in their numbers, but Will has the element of surprise. And he's silent and quick and before they know it he's taking them down one by one. Jumping shadow to shadow.

They scramble, frantic to locate the shooter before it's too late. But their panic makes them reckless, and that was Will's advantage. It's almost too easy, a distraction from the gnawing emptiness inside him.

When the last bandit falls, Will stands amidst the chaos, breathing heavily. Then moves to help the injured, and formally arrest them. The farmers and villagers thank him and offer him meals of gratitude, but he barely hears them. Simply nods in acknowledgment and mumbles a few words about how he was "just doing his job"

Then he mounts Tug and rides away, completely hollow inside.

He returns to the small cabin in the woods which he once shared with Alyss. Washing Tug down and feeding him, then moving inside and throwing his things on the table before he collapses in the armchair by the fireplace, exhausted.

Whether he's fatigued from the day's activities or his grief, he wouldn't know. But it wears him down regardless, and he finds himself shivering with the cold, the cabin feels damp from being empty all day. He wants to light the fire and cast out the chill in the air, and surprisingly, he craves the cozy solace that a fire would bring.

But he can't bring himself to move. Can't bring himself to do anything. He just sits and stares at the ashes in the fireplace. Pondering how comfortable the heat of a fire would feel. Pondering the last time he had lit the fire, it must've been before...

Memories flooded his mind, and phantoms danced in his perephriel vision. The pain is unbearable, and he wants to release it somehow, relieve this aching torment; to cry, or scream, or be angry, throw something, punch something, hurt someone else, hurt himself, something, anything!

but he can't. bring himself. to move.

Pain is so damn tedious.

---

The days turn into weeks, and the weeks into months. He takes on an apprentice, his goddaughter no less, no doubt a ploy by his friends. They knew him better than anyone now, he supposed. But he enjoyed training her. He enjoyed having a task, something to take his mind off of his grief. He enjoyed having another bright presence in the house to chase out the darkness that had engulfed it.

And slowly, blessedly, the doves' song begins to change.

It's subtle at first, a slight shift in tone, a hint of hope.

Will finds himself rising with a bit more purpose, his steps a little lighter. He begins to see the beauty in the world again, the colors more vibrant, the sounds more lively.

One dawn, as he listens to the doves, he realizes they are morning doves once more. The ache is still there, and God knows if it'll ever go away, but he has found a way to live with it, to carry Alyss's memory with him as he moves forward. He still sees her in all he does, whether it's a training exercise with Maddie, or a walk through the forest, or tea with Pauline, he sees her everywhere. But he's glad that he does. He doesn't know if he would survive her going away completely, he can't imagine this world without her, and now that he has to live without her physically, it would break him for her to be gone forever.

The doves sing their morning song with each new day, but now they signal growth for Will, they signal a new beginning.

[musings-of-a-maladaptive-dream]

I’m curious about stuff again specifically for people who like to read.

I put both girls and boys just to see if there’s a difference. And if you are trans or genderqueer please do think as to what gender you considered yourself at the age you started reading and not your current chosen gender.

[forgedroyalseal]

Ranger’s Apprentice Social Media AU

Season Four

Pt 1

[name-s-are-not-important]

He's perfect! Love the freckles and his style!

Tbh I’m thinking about making him Pritchard's family/close to him in some other way, so Crowley and Halt wouldn’t be brothers if Pritchard unofficialy adopted Halt... but the idea of Crowley being adopted as well is very good, it would be something new for sure as well!

He's amazing, thank you!

(Also sorry for the late response, it was a middle of the night lol)

@name-s-are-not-important Crowley has been designed!! Gonna take a break to hang out with my dad, but I quite like this one!

I realized I had kinda assumed that Crowley had been adopted by Pritchard, and that you never actually said that, but I liked the idea so I put it on there

I'm thinking of making Pauline from America but in England on an exchange student program for college, but idk yet

[name-s-are-not-important]

I saw someone doing it so I’m joing with the memes for my fanfiction, and here is 'the Iron Song' in memes (spoiler free or out of context enough to not count them as spoiler)

[maidenofcrows]

So I said a little while ago that I wanted to write RA fanfic? Voila! I did it.

[rangergathering]

Welcome to the second Ranger Gathering Assessment

This is a short, two week challenge that every person in the fandom is encouraged to participate in. You are allowed to post Ranger's Apprentice or Brotherband content to the tag #gathering assessment, and we will share your work here! Make sure you follow each assessment's guidelines carefully, and post by the deadline.

Assessment Two: Location Challenge

Your job is to write a piece of fiction regarding the location provided below:

Seacliff

You may write a one shot, chapter fic, or any other genre of fanfiction you choose. You may include any characters or tropes, but it must include the location in some way to be included in the challenge. Feel free to post on tumblr or AO3, as long as you let us know in some way that you've posted for this challenge. Good luck, apprentices!

Submission Deadline is November 15

[missterwild]

My current to-do list for the newest piece for the Ranger's Apprentice actors AU - it's a video-style written story

There's probably more to add, but that's what I have for now