100 themes challenge.
A/N hey! This is my entry for spookisapuppy's 100 themes challange. I called it painted purple cuz
1. I like purple:D
2. It's a play off of The Lost Stories: Purple Prose
3. I like hugs!
So, #3 doesn't make sense, but who cares? No one? Thought so. Anywho, I hope it's not as horrible as Will's speech in the Lost Stories.:D
Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's apprentice. John Flanagan does. But, i do own some yummy coffee. *thumbs up* Disclaimer for entire story.
Near the border of Clonmel is where I first saw him; seeing him at all comes as a surprise to me now, when I think back on that day. But I didn't know what a feat it was then. I'd been riding nonstop for twelve hours, on next to no sleep. I was exhausted, to say the least. Reigning in my horse, I searched about for a good campsite. Any camp site, really. Within an inch of falling off my mount, I slid wearily to the ground. A shadow flitted by on the outskirts of my vision, the only reason I bothered to look and see what it was is because I knew that I may be being pursued. I hoped that my absence would go unnoticed until sometime after daybreak, but I had to be prepared. I caught sight of a blur, a whirl…then nothing. Outwardly, I pretended to be loosening the girth of my horse's saddle, but inwardly, I was searching fiercely with my eyes. A slight movement caught my eye, and my gaze darted after it. There, now I was certain that someone, or something, was hiding in the shadows. I drew my claymore, and stepped out boldly, suppressing the panic that threatened to overcome me.
"Who's theer? Show yerself, if ye value yer life. Ahm not afeerd of ye Ferris!"
I declaimed loudly. Suddenly, the very matter of the bushes seemed to shift (or so it appeared to me at the time), and a man emerged from them. He wore a brown and green cloak, dyed strangely, and with a deep, deep cowl; a quiver showed over his shoulder, and a massive longbow was held loosely in one rough hand. Before I could speak, he held up one hand in a gesture of peace, and spoke in a foreign accent:
"I won't harm you, young man. My name is Pritchard."
A/N I hope I portrayed Halt's POV accurately; I tried to give him an accent when he talked, but I'm not sure if it's right. Lemme know what ya think! Oh, and I know, Halt doesn't use a claymore, and the Ranger cloaks are grey and green, not brown and green. But, Halt probably trained with some sort of sword when he was in Clonmel, as was considered fitting for a prince. And the cloak patterns probably vary over time, and this was before Crowly took over, so yeah. It might've changed. *shrugs*
He loved the way her hair swished when she ran; it was starting to grow out. He loved the way her eyes changed when she was happy or sad, angry or elated, content or restless; she was delighted now. He loved the special sparkle in her wonderful eyes when she was being mischievous; right now, they gleamed like stars. He loved how she teased him, and pretended to get mad; it made her so enchanting. He loved the way she spoke to him; they were fast friends. He loved her supple mouth; she always had something to say- like now:
"Why are you looking so very serious Horace? Am I dull company?"
Her gorgeous hair swished with a playful toss, her luminous eyes twinkled and shone, her supple mouth quirked, her brows arched in mock anger, but her voice was teasing and friendly. He loved it.
"Not in the least; in fact, you're lovely Cassie."
A/N Baww, so sweet! X3 Kk, too much sugar. The next one better be un-sugary.*pouts*
Walking slowly, ever so softly, Will used every ounce of his considerable skill to step lightly among the crowded trees and underbrush. Peeping around a giant oak, he looked swiftly about, to ensure that no one was in sight; there wasn't. In the blink of an eye, he swarmed up the tree, and balanced on a high branch. There, he settled to watch, and wait. He knew that he wouldn't be able to rely on the old Ranger adage that "people seldom look up", because his target was no ordinary person.
That's why when he heard a twig snap nearby (not that it was terribly loud or obvious, but it was more than enough signal to Will), he knew it was a bluff. So, he stayed still; resisting the urge to seek the source of the sound. (A/N waaaay too many s-words here…) soon, (*rolls eyes* another one…) he felt, rather that actually heard, his target enter attack range. Now, he had to decide how to attack. Eventually, meaning two seconds, Will came to a decision; quietly steeling his muscles for the spring, he watched the target come closer; or, rather, he watched the signs of his target coming closer. His target was, if anything, even more skilled at unseen movement than Will, which meant that seeing him was more like seeing that blade of grass spring back up, or that shadow pass by. Anyway, his target came closer by the second, until Will was able to calculate where he was, and then…He sprang!
"Ahhh! What in the…!"
Gilan stood up, still holding the boy underneath the arms.
"Tsk, tsk Will. Will you ever learn? I, Gilan the amazing, am the un-beatable, un-seeable, un-dubitable-"
"That's not a word."
Gil waved his hand dismissively.
"…Un-catchable master of un-seen movement."
"Yeah, yeah, all hail Gilan Davidson. Hooray. Now can ya put me down?" Grumbled the irate apprentice.
"Oh, alright. You're not getting any lighter anyway."
A/N btw, this is when Will is a first year apprentice. Remember how he asked Gil to teach him unseen movement? Well, that was it.
Morgorath, Baron of Gorlan fief.
Morgorath, friend of the King.
Morgorath, closest advisor of the King.
Morgorath, usurper and meddler.
Morgorath, enemy of Rangers.
Morgorath, traitor of the kingdom.
Morgorath, banished from Araulen.
Morgorath, lord of the land of rain and night.
Morgorath, fallen into darkness-
5. Seeking Solace.
I am Alyssa. My Husband is- was- was in the war. He left for the battle at Hackham Heath one week ago. News came today: he is dead. Dead and gone. They speak of that Ranger, the one assigned to our fief, Redmond. His name is Halt, they say; I don't know for myself. I wonder what he is like; a hero like him. My husband is a hero, now. But who will tell me of his deeds? No-one, is suppose. He is dead, and left me seeking solace, where none can be found. I have only-wait, I still have her. Our infant daughter. She is healthy and smiling. She does not know that there is no reason for joy. Or is it I who know not that there is reason? Yes, yes there is. There is life; life in our daughter. Where there is life, therein lies hope, they say. I believe it. She's smiling at me again; Alyss, he called her Alyss; after me, he said. He said she would be as beautiful as I am. He is wrong. She will greatly surpass my beauty. Pink cheeks, round and soft; wispy hair, like a golden halo. Serious grey eyes. Serious? That is strange. They are comforting. Grey; that too, is strange about her eyes. They are perfect. In them, I am finding solace.
A/N there's the first chap! I'll be doing this in five entry chaps. Enjoy!