#berrigan

"You wait here, Tug. It's time for some payback." Will patted the small horse's velvety nose as it attempted to sniff out his pockets. "You can have an apple afterwards, I don't want your crunching to alert Crowley."

Tug looked at Will with what could only be described as equine indignation.

Worry about your own thunderous stomping first.

"I'll have you know that I'm extremely lightfooted," he whispered with mock offence.

Horace would've given me an apple.

"Well, Horace isn't here right now, and unfortunately for you, I’m the one with the apples."

Tug didn't deign this worthy of a response and instead looked away as if something had caught his interest.

"That's what I thought." Will turned on his heel and began walking away. "Some horses," he grumbled.

You're talking a lot for someone who is supposed to be sneaking.

This time, it was Will who didn't respond. He knew he would never get the last word with this horse.

The sun was peaking out between the canopy of trees, casting dappled light across the forest floor. The resulting shadows presented near ideal conditions for the mottled greens and greys of his cloak to do their job. Unfortunately, the path to the Gathering Grounds was still wet from the early morning rain, and any previous tracks had been obliterated.

Or covered if they were more recent, Will thought.

He briefly considered covering his own tracks, but then thought better of it. If anyone were to arrive after him, they would likely spot Tug before his tracks. Not that Tug wasn't well

hidden, of course, but a ranger looking for potential peer ambushes would be alert to such things.

Each year, the members of the corps went to substantial lengths to sneak up on one another. Will had gone to considerable effort to surprise Halt this year. Despite telling his former mentor that he would be late to the Gathering, he had instead shown up a day early. After all, it was rare that he got the chance to surprise Halt. In the past, they had always ridden to the Gathering Grounds together, even before the task force. Did he lie to his old friend about his arrival? Yes. But he was sure Halt would have done the same.

He wasn't exactly sure how the ritual of ambushing other rangers started. Apparently, it had been going on since far before even Gilan's time in the corps. Since it must have been started by one of the old guard, Will had at least one suspect. This theory was largely tied to the unparalleled levels of glee that a certain Commandant regularly took in playing jokes on people.

"Not this year," he muttered quietly. A mischievous grin spread across his cowl-shadowed face. This year, both his mentor and the Commandant were in for a surprise.

As he had remarked to Halt some two years past, Crowley frequently used the same hiding spot. Will had expected that this would have changed, considering that the Commandant himself had overheard his saying so. Much to his bewilderment, however, when the next Gathering rolled around, Crowley was still crouched up in his usual spot. The fact that Will was the only person to have found this hiding place was, of course, still unknown to the young ranger.

Will stepped quietly along the edges of the path, avoiding the squish of the mud where water hadn't yet evaporated. After about fifteen minutes, he reached a bend in the road and he began to move with considerably more care. He slunk from cover to cover, keeping hidden between tree trunks and patches of dense shrubbery. It wasn't normally a long walk, but he was exercising an abundance of caution. If Crowley were here, he would likely be watching the road.

He peeked carefully around a thick oak branch, scanning the trees ahead. After a couple of

minutes, he spotted it. Crowley's hideout was well hidden to the untrained eye, blending in near-seamlessly with the forest. If it hadn't been for a lesson he had learned growing up in the ward, he probably wouldn't have spotted it. Not for the first time, he marvelled at how strange it was that people seldom looked up.

Hidden in the canopy was a spot where the branches were denser than normal. While at first glance it appeared pretty ordinary, upon closer examination, the leaf coverage was just a little too thick to be natural. He crept forward inch by inch, smiling wickedly to himself. It was likely that Halt hadn't arrived yet, but he knew that the Commandant was often the first one at the Gathering Grounds. Not only did Crowley usually need time to organize things, he also clearly enjoyed surprising as many of his colleagues as possible.

Will's soft leather boots moved soundlessly as he slipped under the trees that supported

Crowley's hideout. When he was an apprentice, he'd have been hard pressed to catch an older ranger unawares. These days, however, he could give most of the corps a run for their money. It was especially unfortunate for Crowley that he had picked a hiding spot that involved climbing, Will thought with a smirk.

Ever so carefully, he slipped up the tree, pausing to listen when he was a few branches beneath the opening of the treehouse-like structure. Everything was silent for a long moment, and Will held his breath, listening to hear the other man's breathing. He heard a slight shuffling noise and saw a tremble of movement pass over the leaves that concealed the platform. Then he caught sight of something that confirmed his suspicions: a few strands of brassy hair peeking through the greenery. Crowley must be lying down.

Was the Commandant asleep on the job? Will grinned to himself. The man really must be getting old.

He resumed his climb, reaching for the last foothold that would push his head above the entrance. He peeked over the side, ready to catch Crowley unawares and – he froze as his eyes landed on the scene before him. Despite all his years of Ranger training, Will gasped. Later, he would explain away the slip. He knew had been safe near the Gathering Grounds and that Crowley would never hurt him even if startled. But in the moment it was pure shock that audibly took the breath from his lungs. On the thick tree branches that formed the lookout’s floor, Crowley and Halt stared back at will. They hesitated for the briefest moment before rapidly disentangling themselves (as if there was some way that Will didn’t just see them). 

And then Will fell out of the tree.

"Will!" Halt called, his voice cracking like the twigs that snapped as Will slipped from the tree as he scrambled to look down, where Will had landed.

A loud whistle broke the air followed by the sound of hooves thundering down the path. Halt pulled his boots on and began climbing down but it was too late. Crowley was still dazedly reclining on a branch, unsure of his position in the situation and if he had done something wrong. Halt landed on the ground just a few seconds after Will fled on Tug’s back, not even chancing a look over his shoulder.

Crowley peered down over the edge at Halt, who looked up at him. 

"Maybe just give him a few minutes?" The Commandant suggested sheepishly. Halt looked back down the path and ran his hands down his face. Literally every other way that this could have gone was better than how it had gone. 

Will slowed Tug’s canter as he rode into the clearing, breathing heavily but trying his very best to disguise it. He slid off his saddle, looking around to see if anyone was ready to interrogate him about what he had just climbed into. What had he just climbed into?

The memory flashed to mind once more, unbidden. Crowley and Halt were… kissing?

The thought was ridiculous, but it was hard to find an alternative answer. The Commandant had been lying on the platform, his hair a rumpled mess that contained Halt's hands. For a brief moment, Will had thought they were wrestling or sparring, but such an idea couldn't explain the way Crowley's hands had been up under Halt's shirt. Nor could it explain their tangled legs and the way their flushed faces had been centimetres apart. Will tried to shake the thought off like a dog might rid itself of water.

"Hey-o Will-o," a voice called from across the clearing.

Will looked up, blinking at the figure that called from beside a nearby fire.

"Berrigan?" Will's eyebrows raised, not having expected to see the man. 

The ranger-turned-minstrel/occasional spy was reclining against a tree stump and plucking at the strings of his lute idly. Will made his way over to join him, sitting down by the fire, still dazed by the scene he had witnessed.

"What's wrong, Will?" The musician frowned concernedly, leaning forward a bit. "You look as

if you've seen a ghost."

The younger ranger paused for a long moment, unable to summon a reply and instead just opening and closing his mouth for a second.

Berrigan put the lute down. "Has something happened?" The question sounded ridiculous to his own ears, considering the boy's expression. Will was usually so amiable... For him to be reacting like this meant something serious must have happened. "Did you run into something on your way here?"

Will nodded vaguely, "Halt."

Concern flashed across Berrigan's face, and he looked over Will's shoulder towards the path. "Is he ok? Where is he?"

The younger ranger shook his head, realizing that he was worrying Halt's old friend. "He's fine." He cleared his throat a bit. "He's uh... with… Crowley." He tried and failed to sound casual about it. He could feel his face reddening by the second. 

Berrigan looked confused but relieved "Oh, good, he's with Crowley." 

A moment passed like the slow drip of a water clock. The older man took in Will's words and expression, and slowly, understanding dawned on him. "Ohhhhh. He's with Crowley." He barked a laugh, relaxing and shaking his head as he picked up a nearby stick to poke the fire, grinning loosely.

This time, it was Will who searched the minstrel's expression. Something in the other man's mannerisms seemed to indicate that he was anything but shocked about the news. 

"You knew?" It sounded like more of an accusation than he had meant it to.

Berrigan paused before letting out a chuckle, "Of course I knew," he grinned, "Everyone knows.”

The words sank in slowly, and Will tried to process them. "Everyone?” he squeaked. “How long has this been going on?" he asked, though upon reflection he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the details.

"Oh," Berrigan laughed, casting an appraising eye over Will. "Since well before your time, I'd imagine. They were already sharing a tent by the time I’d met them."

This hit Will like a stone in the head. That long? That would mean that the whole time Will had known Halt and had been his apprentice, his mentor had kept this part of his life a secret from him. He knew that Halt was a private person, at times stubbornly so, but he had thought that their relationship was closer than that. He had thought that he was perhaps the closest person on earth to the stoic ranger.

Well, perhaps not the closest to him, Will amended with a shudder. Having grown up an orphan, he hadn’t had any parents to discuss romance or relationships with. Halt had become practically a father to him and they had never broached the subject. To some extent, Crowley was family, too. Suddenly he was left feeling like he had just walked in on his parents. Then, another thought struck him.

"But Halt's married!" He hissed, looking over his shoulder as if the ever-enigmatic Lady Pauline might materialize out of the trees.

Berrigan had watched Will's face journey with some amusement for a few minutes. He gave a bit of a shrug in response. "From what I understand, Lady Pauline doesn't take much issue with it."

Will chewed on air dumbly, at a loss for words.

The minstrel ceased poking the fire, taking pity on him. "Will," He started gently, holding the young man's gaze when he looked up. "It's a dangerous and often solitary life we lead. You know as well as any of us that a ranger's path can take us far from home and for longer than we’d like."

Will nodded slowly. He knew it was true, but it didn't seem fair. "But-"

Berrigan held up a hand, continuing, "Lady Pauline may not be a Ranger, but a Courier's job is no walk in the garden either. Halt isn't the only one who faces constant danger and long missions away from Redmont."

When he put it that way, Will had to admit the older ranger had a point. He felt a bit ashamed to think of how he hadn't really considered how Pauline's personal life might play an equal role in the arrangement. They were all adults after all, and being separated from those they loved was pretty much a normal part of life for almost everyone he knew.

The minstrel picked his lute back up, strumming softly before beginning to pluck the opening notes of a quiet song. "We have to make our happiness where we can in this life."

Will exhaled and tried to stop it from shaking. He stared into the fire, watching as the flames danced and licked across the pieces of dry, cracked wood. He supposed that was alright, then. Berrigan was unbothered. He reported that Lady Pauline was unbothered. And Halt and Crowley… they seemed quite alright with the situation as well. Will winced as he thought about how he was going to face them after this.