A/N: Hello everyone! This is my response to Hibernian Princess's second challenge. It involves Halt . . . and Crowley . . . and singing! You don't want to miss it!

Disclaimer: I (sadly) do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of the characters in it. I also do not own the song Real in Rio.

The sun was out, falling on the dark canopy of trees and dappling the dark forest floor with its rays. If one looked very closely, one could almost see the lone figure of a man sitting on a horse. He was a Ranger, and he seemed to be waiting for something—or rather, someone. This particular Ranger may have used the alias of "Arratay" at times, but his real name was Halt.

Ranger Halt was looking forward to at least a few weeks of rest . . . if it could be called that. He had recently helped reinstate Prince Duncan on the throne, and through that, Baron Morgarath had been banished to the Mountains of Rain and Night. Not that he was really a Baron any more. A hint of a wry smile touched the Ranger's face. He didn't feel the slightest bit sorry for the banished criminal, though he knew the mountains were a cold, lifeless place. After all, Morgarath was treacherous and power-hungry. Halt was startled out of his reverie by a call from a familiar voice.

"Halt!" the sandy-haired figure was riding up the road rapidly, approaching Halt's position in the trees. "Halt!"

Halt groaned inwardly. So much for resting or anything of that nature. The recently appointed Commandant had that excited inflection in his voice that heralded the arrival of a new, "brilliant" idea. This was just wonderful. He toyed with the idea of ignoring Crowley, but unfortunately, Abelard had already nickered to Cropper in greeting. "Traitor." Halt whispered to his horse as Crowley approached, but Abelard merely gave an amused neigh.

"Halt! I have something to tell you!" Crowley said, rather breathlessly.

"I can see that." Halt said dryly. "Why else would the Ranger Corps Commandant be riding along like a two-ton badger?"

Crowley glanced at his friend, irritation in his eyes. "As you so kindly mentioned, I am the Commandant. That warrants some respect." When he saw his friend's expression—with both eyebrows raised in mock surprise which made you think he was about to say something like "Oh-ho!"—he sighed. "Not that you'd care much about that anyways."

"Exactly!" Halt exclaimed emphatically. "But now, before you forget your glorious idea, what was it that you wanted to share with me?"

Ignoring his friend's tone, Crowley said loftily. "Well . . . I was speaking with some of the new recruits—"

"Would these be the ones who tried to bribe their way into the Corps?" Halt asked innocently.

"No . . ." Crowley said deliberately. "And you very well know that. As I was saying some of the new recruits are more musically inclined, so—"

"Please don't tell me you've decided to make the Rangers into some kind of musical!"

Crowley looked at him in astonishment. "Why, that's true! How did you guess?"

"Trust me, it wasn't that hard. This sounds just like another one of your hare-brained schemes."

"Excuse me? I'm your Commandant."

Halt rolled his eyes and muttered. "You've stressed that often enough." Then, he spoke up a bit louder. "But never mind that, I'm assuming you want me to sing?"

Crowley sighed, then said hesitantly. "No, Halt. Actually . . . we thought you could write it."

Halt couldn't believe his ears. "Write it? Are you mad? Crowley, you know I don't do prose and poetry! How could you even—I mean, why would you even contemplate the idea? . . . "

Halt was finally taking this seriously, a fact that greatly pleased Crowley. He let his friend continue the rant for a few more minutes, half-stunned that Halt was even going through one. After all, Halt wasn't really a ranter. Finally, the Commandant cut in with a conciliatory tone "Look, Halt, I found this really good song, okay? All you have to do is change the words around a bit or something."

Halt could tell that his friend was hooked on this new idea. "Oh, all right." He grumbled. "Seeing as you're so eager for this, I suppose I'll have to. But you have to promise me one thing."

"What's that?" Crowley asked suspiciously, remembering what usually happened when Halt demanded something in return.

"Oh, nothing much." Halt said with a glint in his eyes. "Just that I get to decide who sings what. And no one argues with me."

"Sure, whatever, Halt!" Crowley said, getting back on Cropper, happy that he had succeeded in convincing his friend in the first place.

"And don't blame me when we become the laughingstock of all Araluen!" Halt called after the retreating figure.

…..

Halt sighed to himself. Today was the day that he would most probably die of embarrassment. Lovely. The Rangers had all gathered today to sing the song he had written. Crowley hadn't found fifty people yet, but there was still more than half of them present. But that wasn't what worried Halt. His idiot of a friend had actually agreed to present this in front of King Duncan! Baron Arald, Battlemaster Rodney—they'd probably show up just to see how their friend made a fool of himself. As much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn't back out of it now. Crowley was counting on him.

He watched as Crowley stepped forward and bowed majestically. In the shadows of his cowl, Halt rolled his eyes. That was his friend, all right. So excited and enthusiastic about everything—and becoming the leader of the Corps didn't help matters. There were times when he felt like he should have accepted Crowely's offer to make him the Commandant. But every time, he turned himself down. Who was he kidding? He didn't want or need all the attention.

"Halt? Halt! It's time!" He heard Crowley's stage whisper to him.

"Oh, very well." He said, resigned. "On one . . . two . . . three!"

With that, they began. The first few verses were merely sung.

All of Araluen's Rangers

Do our most favorite things

We are the best at sticking together

That's why we love Gathering!

All so clear we can talk to,

Horses and enemies call

Here, some of the Rangers began miming actions.

Shoot at those targets, throw knives and spy-y

Show us the best you can do

Everyone here is an expert,

Get up and join in our group

Talk to a stranger, great thrills and danger

That's why you'll love the RAN—GER CO—ORPS

All by ourselves

They began to do a simple dance which involved mostly spinning, fancy-looking footwork, and strange hand movements. Hey, he hadn't had a lot of time to come up with this! They should be grateful.

You can't see, us coming

You can't find us anywhere else.

We're the RAN—GER CO—ORPS

Know something else?

You can't feel this happening

You must feel it all by yourself.

Now, it was time for the refrain again.

All of Araluen's Rangers

Do our most favorite things.

Moon and the stars, annoying Halt

That's why we—

"Cut!" Halt shouted angrily. "That's not what I wrote, and I very well know it! Was it you, Bartell?"

He abruptly addressed the boy, who immediately turned red and answered quietly. "No . . . actually it was Crowley, sir."

"What is the meaning of this, Crowley? I did you a favor for you by writing this song! Is this your—" He stopped at the sound of laughter. The King, the Baron, and the Battlemaster were all bursting with amusement.

"You . . . " Arald gasped between breaths. "You wrote this, Halt? I never thought—I mean, I must admit, you didn't seem the type to . . . "

He trailed off as he saw Halt's expression. "Crowley." Halt said, his voice ominously quiet. "We're going to talk about this later, okay? But until then . . . it would be a shame to waste all this effort, wouldn't it?"

The Commandant gulped. "Of—of course Halt. Whatever you say."

"Good."

Then, he stepped forward, as it was time for his solo. One look and everyone's amusement vanished without a trace. Halt took a deep breath, and readied himself. He was somewhat used to it, anyways. Hibernians were known for their love of music. In the background, the Rangers began to sway gently.

Loving our life of adventure

Everything's wild and free.

Never alone, 'cause we feel at home,

That's why we make up the Ran-ger Co-orps

All by ourselves

You can't see, us coming,

You can't find us anywhere else.

As he stepped back, Crowley stepped forward to sing his part.

Here everyone loves the silence,

With no one else but yourself.

Coffee and a cloak, what more could you want?

Everyone has fun in the Ran-ger Co-orps

Here's something else

You just feel us happening

You won't find it anywhere else.

The last four stanzas were repeated with the entire group. Numerous voices went too high at the last words. This made Halt want to shout at them and slam all of their heads together. Especially Crowley's. But he contented himself with the thought of it, because he was mildly pleased that it hadn't gone too bad. Besides . . .

He was a Ranger after all.

….

So, did you like it? I thought it was at least mildly amusing, and I hope you all felt the same way. Thanks for giving out such fun challenges, Hibernian Princess! :D

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. . . Please . . .