A/N: SPOILERS FOR BOOK 9! (and minor minor minor spoilers for book 10)

This story is a completely plotless ramble, mostly written to explore some new Post-RA OCs of mine. It turned out a lot longer than I'd originally planned, but I had fun with it. Anyway, enjoy.

Will breathed in deeply, enjoying the cool night air. The stars shone brightly above, giving just enough light and just enough shadow to completely satisfy a prowling ranger. Of course, Will wasn't necessarily prowling. He preferred to think of it as inconspicuous strolling. He'd picked up the habit years ago from Halt, and had perfect the art by shadowing Crowley for a few weeks at Castle Araluen. Halt was better at it overall, but no one could beat Crowley at the game of walking about unnoticed in urban areas – which was what Will was engaged in at that very moment. As a matter of fact, he, like the man he'd learned the art from, was silently and stealthily roaming the streets inside Castle Araluen. He, along with Halt, Pauline, Alyss, and a few others of the King's closest confidence, had been summoned to the Castle under official pretenses, though Duncan had been kind enough to allow them to stay a bit longer than practically needed so as to visit old friends.

It had been very enjoyable, Will thought, to spend time with Horace and Cassandra again. It had been nearly a year since he'd seen either of them, but their reunion had been as though they'd never been separated. It was just like old times. Then again, Will thought ruefully, many things had changed since their youthful days. Among others, he was beginning to feel – dare he say it? – old. Horace had noted (with great amusement and a minimal amount of pity) that Will had a small strain of consistently grey hairs sprouting out over his forehead. Will swore he'd be able to find some hiding in Horace's head of hair, but wisely, the warrior had not allowed the other man to look. However, while this telling change in appearance did alarm Will a bit, he was surprised to find himself overall comfortable with the shift. It just seemed right, Will thought. Change was natural, and so growing older didn't seem nearly so daunting as it did a few years ago.

However, the Ranger's thoughts on the matter were abruptly cut off as he heard a boot click loudly on the flagstones. Will instinctively dropped into a crouch, shrugging his mottled cloak further around him. As he sat there, listening to the footsteps, a small frown formed on his face. He knew those footsteps. That steady, confident, albeit laid-back gait was completely unmistakable. As the owner of said footsteps rounded the corner, Will's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Now, why on earth would the crown Prince of Araulen be strolling about the castle two hours after dark in a Ranger's cloak, of all things?

Feeling a surge of curiosity and familial amusement, Will felt obliged to follow him. As he did so, Will considered the fact that he would have felt mortified at himself if he had been stalking any other member of the Royal family. He would never dream of stalking Duncan in such a way. Cassandra was out of the question. But Liam? Little Liam, who he'd known since birth? Will almost scoffed, but restrained himself from giving vent to any noise. Liam would just have to put up with an annoyingly conniving Ranger on his tail. Will was practically an uncle to the young Prince anyway.

"Liam?" Will called once he was in earshot, and stood to his feet.

The teen might have looked the part in the mottled Ranger's cloak, but he whipped around with a gasp at Will's sudden appearance. He let out a sigh of relief when Will lowered his cowl and his face became visible. "Oh, uncle Will, it's just you. You startled me."

Will laughed. "I saw you jump. I'm sorry." He shrugged. "Bad habit." He studiously overlooked the Prince's out of place attire for the moment, and instead asked: "Enjoying a midnight stroll, eh?"

"It's not midnight, you know."

"Close enough, Prince Cheeky."

Liam smirked. "Whatever. But yes, I am. It's a clear night. Might as well enjoy it."

"I couldn't agree more. Mind if I join you?" Will asked kindly.

"Of course not." Liam smiled at him, and the two fell into step with one another. They walked in silence for several minutes. Liam had always been a rather introverted boy, and so was completely happy to share the companionable silence with his 'uncle'. Will took the opportunity to unobtrusively look over at Liam's cloak. It was worn, and looked rather old. The patterns used by the rangers in their cloaks had evolved and changed over the years, and this one bore a pattern that looked to be at least ten years old. It fit him reasonably well – it could have even been made for him. Will finally reached the moment where he just had to ask.

"Liam, where did you get that cloak?"

Liam stopped in his tracks, green eyes growing wide. As if just remembering that he was wearing the cloak, the young Prince shone pink in the moonlight, and he touched the mottled fabric in a self-conscious way.

"I… Uh… Well, uhmm… D-I, eh.."

Will turned to look at him, his amusement growing. "Yes?"

"Oh, gosh, I totally forgot… Uh…" He looked nervously up at Will, as if the ranger would be offended. "It's uh… It's Dad's." The teen explained.

"Your father's?" Will looked confused. "Your father is no Ranger."

"No…" Liam admitted, "…he said he got it from Halt."

"From Halt? Now why on earth would Halt give – Wait a minute…" Will's eyes lighted in revelation. "Liam, did your father say when Halt gave it to him?"

Liam shrugged. "I'm not sure. He never told me. He's had it as long as I can remember, though. Hardly ever takes it out of the wardrobe. He let me play with it when I was younger, and I actually quite like it – it's much softer and warmer than it looks." Liam observed, rubbing the fabric between two fingers.

Will nodded agreement. "Indeed. Now, Liam, did your father ever tell you how he got that cloak?"

The Prince paused to think for a moment. "Well… No – wait. Maybe. He used to tell me a story about when Halt leant him his cloak for something or other… Something having to do with Picta and some sort of demented bull." He wracked his brain, and looked up to his uncle. "Does that mean anything to you?"

Will couldn't stop the smile from spreading. "Demented bull…" He breathed through a chuckle. "Oh, your father would call it that, wouldn't he? And yes, it does mean something. It means I know exactly how and when your father got that cloak."

Liam looked pleased with this revelation. "Really? Will you tell me?"

"Yes, really. And actually, your father has already told you, you just may not know it."

"Does it have to do with the demented bull story?"

Will snorted derisively. "Yes, with the demented bull. Now," Will put an arm around Liam's shoulders and spoke to him quietly. He didn't have to lean down, as Liam was nearly as tall as Will was. "I need you to do something for me – and you're going to need that cloak to do it."

Liam, for his rather quiet nature, had a bit of a mischievous streak. He listened attentively to his uncle.

Once he was sure he had Liam's attention, Will gave his instructions. "I need you to go to your father, wrap yourself in that cloak, stand very still in front of something – a tree, preferably – and ask him a very simple question: 'Can you see me?'."

Liam twisted his head around to peer at Will.

"'Can you see me?'", he repeated, incredulous.

"See, you've got it down already. Just don't' sound so condescending when you say it to him."

Liam scoffed.

"Now, look," Will said, "I know it just doesn't make any sense right now, but trust me – it'll be hilarious. Now, go do that, and come back and tell me how he reacts, okay?"

Liam sighed, unsure. "Alright…"

"Good lad. I'm sure you know where I'm staying. I'll see you in the morning, alright?"

"Alright. Uncle Will?"

"Hmm?"

"How do I know you're not setting me up for some sort of trap?"

"For one thing, Liam, I am not that cold-hearted. For another thing, your father would most definitely have me strung up by my toes for what you're about to do to him than he would you."

"Oh. Well, that's… Encouraging." Liam mustered sarcastically.

"I'm glad. Now go on – the sooner, the better."

"I probably won't be able to catch him until tomorrow, you know. He's asleep by now."

"As you should be, too. Your mother will murder me if she finds out I let you stay up past midnight. Now off with you – go to bed. And don't forget the cloak in the morning."

Liam fiddled with the fabric again. "Right. Well, good night, Uncle."

"Good night."

As soon as the prince was out of earshot, a voice came from a patch of shadows behind Will.

"So, that's one of Halt's old cloaks, eh?"

"Yep." Will answered without turning around.

Gilan slid down from where he'd been sitting on a half wall and came to stand next to Will, watching the young prince head off towards the castle, his borrowed cloak billowing softly behind him.

"So Halt is about as tall as a fifteen year old prince. I'm sure he'll be overjoyed to hear that." Gilan said, a smile tugging at his lips.

"I wouldn't tell him that." Will said

"Oh," Gilan feigned concern, "funny, I was about the say the same about you, Will."

Will glared up at him. "Are you inferring something derogatory about my stature?"

"Not at all." Gilan raised his hands defensively. "I merely pointed out that Halt was about the same size as that very tall, picturesque young prince over there who is wearing his old cloak, and further, that you and Halt happen to be of a similar disposition where height is concerned." Gilan gave him a winning smile.

Will scowled and glared for good measure before looking away. "You're many things, Gilan, but a diplomat is not one of them." He grumbled.

Gilan felt it best to change the subject. "So, what's all this about a demented bull? I don't recall that particular story." the taller ranger asked.

Will smirked. "It has to do with the time we were chasing Tennyson around the country and back. Long story short, we had to stampede a herd of Pictish cattle… Halt appointed Horace as honorary bull-fighter."

Gilan's lips formed an understanding 'o'. "I see." He said after a moment. "I can see where he might want to add that 'demented' bit."

"Indeed." Will agreed.

"And what of this 'can you see me?' nonsense?" Gilan cocked a curious eyebrow at his friend.

Will just smiled all the wider. "That," he said, "is what annoying, leg-pulling knights get for leaving old ranger cloaks lying in the hands of their clueless, cheeky sons."

Gilan felt as though he'd just become privy to some sort of age-old inside joke. "And would aforementioned son just happen to have an uncle who just happened to be seeking some sort of childish revenge on said leg-pulling knight, presumably for an equally childish prank?"

Will looked up at the other ranger. His smile said it all. Without another word, the smaller ranger stepped away into the night. "I'll let you know how it turns out. G'night, Gilan."

Gilan shook his head, but he just couldn't stop smiling. "Good night, Will." He said.

Gilan stepped over to stand by a balcony that overlooked the plains lying below Castle Araluen. "Demented bulls, cloaks, and clueless princes," He mused to himself. "and to think that two of the most powerful men in the country are now stooping to level of using their own children as pawns in their personal war of practical jokes." He shook his head again. "I do wonder about them sometimes." He stared out into the star-filled night, pondering the odd rivalry between two of his closest friends. Eventually, with a shrug, he decided that if he couldn't stop them, he might as well draw some entertainment from their perpetual quest to humiliate each other.

As he returned to his rooms, Gilan made a mental note to ask Halt about the matter later.

He heard the birds tweeting and singing outside his window before he saw the sun come up. He groaned into his pillow and rolled over, seeking solace in the wonderfully warm, cushy bed beneath him. Unfortunately, the birds were intent on keeping him up. Sighing, Liam slowly let his eyes flutter open, unfocused as always in the morning, and sensitive to the fresh sunlight pouring through his curtains. When he looked out the window, the sun was just peeked over the horizon. The birds perched on the parapets by his window looked as chipper and sounded just as loud as always. He glared at them. They paid no notice.

The prince shuffled out of his room and down the hall, into the living quarters that he shared with his family. His younger brother was already up, disgustingly energetic as always, as was his little sister, who was playing quietly with one of her toy animals in a corner. His father was up too, and Liam's stomach leaped when he remembered. He was supposed to do that favor for uncle Will, wasn't he? Will expected that he'd do that today, didn't he? Liam quietly watched as his father made a beeline for the coffee pot that sit on the small stove by the countertop. No, he couldn't do it now, Liam thought. He'd have to wait until the perfect moment. Mentally, the prince remembered where he'd left the cloak so that he could run and grab it when he needed it.

"Good morning, Liam," His father smiled at him when he turned around. Liam smiled back.

"Morning, Dad." He said with a thick morning voice.

His father laughed. "Go get some coffee – it'll clear up your voice."

"Oh, what, you mean there's actually some left? I thought you'd drink the whole pot." Liam went to peer down into the coffee pot to complete the jest. His father said nothing, but smiled into his cup and ruffled his son's hair as he walked by.

Now with his hair tossed up to ridiculous angles, Liam poured himself some coffee – though not nearly so much as his father drank each morning – and then went to peer over the shoulder of his younger brother, Ben.

Ben was two years younger than Liam, and had yet to hit his major growth spurt. He was a lanky teen with big blue eyes, bright blonde hair, and dimples. His adorable complexion tended to distract most people from his reputation as Castle Araluen's resident trouble maker. Currently, he was curled up on a lounge chair with an open book in his lap.

"What are you reading?" Liam asked inquisitively.

"I'm not reading, I'm looking. It's one of Daniel's sketchbooks. He gave lent it to me yesterday so I could look through it." Ben answered, and then peered up and around to frown at his older brother's cup of coffee. "How can you drink that stuff? It's disgusting!" Out of all the royal family, Ben had a monstrous sweet tooth, and could not understand why anyone would want to drink something so naturally bitter as coffee.

Liam smiled. "More for me, then."

"Actually," their father said as he seated himself on the couch, "that would be more for me." He said. "Though I might let you have some. Maybe. If I feel like it."

"Dad!"

"Oh, fine. But only so long as you don't get yourself addicted to the stuff." Their father sipped at his own substantial cup of coffee.

"You're the one who says you're addicted." Ben pointed out.

Their father nodded assent. "Yes, well, that sad fact falls at the feet of your uncle and Halt. But mostly your uncle."

"So… If you're addicted, what difference does it make if we are, too?"

"Do as I say, not as I do, son."

Ben looked up at Liam and shrugged. Liam smiled slightly, and went to sit down on the chair opposite to Ben's.

The family sat in silence for a while, drinking their coffee and reading their books. But after a while, Liam's sister rose from where she sat and went over to her father.

"Daddy, could you please help me tie this?" She asked, and presented him with a fluffy stuffed white horse, around whose neck she was attempting to tie a green ribbon.

"Mmhmm." Her father put down his coffee and took the small toy from her. Moments later, a green bow adorned the horse's neck, and she smiled.

"Thank you, daddy!" She smiled at him and took the toy. Instead of returning to her corner, she pivoted on her heel and plopped down at her father's feet to lean against his legs, content to sit with him and play her game at the same time. He smiled fondly at this. Of all of his children, Elanor was the most openly affectionate, and he enjoyed it when she decided to spend time with him.

A 'daddy's girl' in every right, Elanor was considerably younger than either of her brothers at nine years old, though this didn't seem to bother her much. When she was younger, her brothers could get away with bullying and teasing her quite a bit, but as she grew older it was made clear to all that she had a personality much bigger than her small stature let off. Despite being a calm, tranquil soul most of the time, she had a spitfire stubbornness that came out in any fight, and since she lived with two rough-housing brothers, she had long ago become comfortable around things such as swords and wrestling matches – though she would always prefer riding a horse or petting a dog over duels and jousting.

Absently, her father reached down and patted the pretty brown hair that flowed past her shoulders. After a moment, she looked at him upside-down.

"Daddy, when do you think mommy will be back?"

He looked down at her. "From what, council meeting? Oh, probably a few hours. Why?" He frowned. Her mother was gone nearly every day at this hour – surly she should know that.

"Oh." Elanor looked disappointed. "I was hoping to go see Xanny, that's all." She seemed a bit put out. 'Xanny', or more rightly, 'Xander', was a young colt with whom Elanor had become completely enamored with. Forever an animal lover, she visited the stables often, and one of the newest arrivals was the quirky little charger foal. Doubtless, one day he'd grow up to serve a great knight or lord, but for the moment, he was a cute little ball of energy that proved to be irresistible for young princesses.

Her father sighed. "Well, I'm afraid that your mother can't take you down there today. She has to meet with Lord Anthony later today."

Elanor sighed. "Oh. Okay." She went back to playing with her horse.

Oh, darn those huge green eyes, her father thought. "I'll tell you what," he said, and she looked back up at him. "I'll take you down there, as soon as I finish my coffee."

She lit up. "Really? Thank you thank you thank you!" She bounced, and leapt up onto his lap to hug him. He carefully recovered his mug where it had nearly been knocked over by her enthusiasm.

"You're welcome, Ellie. Now please don't spill my coffee."

"Oh, sorry, daddy."

"It's alright. Now go get dressed, and we'll go in a bit."

"Okay!" Elanor bounced away to her room to change from her nightgown.

As this whole exchange took place, Liam watched with growing curiosity. This could be the perfect opportunity. If his father was going down to the stables, he would no doubt check on his own steed. And when he did… Liam glanced toward his room, where the cloak was. He smiled.

Elanor's complete ease with animals sometimes made Horace nervous. He watched her with slight discomfort as Xander, who was huge despite his young age, bounced around his daughter energetically. An elderly stable hand watched the young princess with a smile, standing by the fence with a crop in hand, should Xander decide to act up.

Shaking away his doubt, Horace retreated into the sizable royal stables and walked down until he found the stall he was looking for.

"Good morning, Kimiko." He patted the mare's nose as she bent her head down towards him. "How about you and I go for a ride while the little ones play, hmm?" He petted her and she snorted an affirmative at him. He smiled "I thought you might like that. Lord knows you're cooped up in here too much these days." He turned and started down the long room of stalls, heading for the room that housed the tack and saddles of all of the horses.

Kimiko had only been his steed for a few years, after the retirement of his faithful old horse, Kicker. The stallion had lived out the last few years of his life in peace, roaming the pastures freely and siring two impressive chargers before he died at a ripe old age. After the heart-wrenching death of one of his oldest friends, Horace had hand-picked a dark haired mare who reflected a bit of the quirky stubbornness that he missed in Kicker. He'd named her 'Kimiko', much to the befuddlement of the stable hands, in the language he'd grown familiar with in Nihon-Ja. She was fierce in battle, but had a generally laid-back disposition – though she was known for her habit of finding any loose bag of oats and eating every last bit of them.

Horace continued on to the tack room calmly, but when he rounded the corner, he frowned. Not twenty feet away, a small ranger stood by the open doorway, which led to the training pastures.

"Will?" he called experimentally. The figure looked to be about Will's height, and he couldn't see his face. But for some reason, Horace got the feeling that it wasn't Will. As Horace walked closer, he realized who it was.

"Liam? Liam, why on earth are you wearing a ranger cloak?"

The prince shrugged. "I dunno. It's comfortable, I suppose." He picked at it. "You never told me that it was Halt's, though."

Horace frowned. "And… Who told you that it was Halt's?"

Liam looked up at him. "Uncle Will."

Horace nodded. "Right. And when did he tell you this?"

"Yesterday evening." Liam answered, pulling up his cowl and swinging half of the cloak dramatically around him as he did so. "He also told me to do this."

Without another word, Liam pressed himself against the dark wood of the stable wall, draping himself in the mottled cloak, and peered up at his father.

"Can you see me now?"

"Will!" A raised voice called. Daniel looked up from where he sat perched up in a tall oak tree. "What lies have you been poisoning my son's mind with now?" If Daniel wasn't mistaken, that was his uncle's voice. The teenager flipped his sketchbook closed and deposited it and his pencil into his jacket pocket. He started down the tree, and swung himself down on to the pathway just as his uncle was making his way towards the apartment at Daniel's back.

"Uncle Horace," Daniel smiled at the approaching man, but the grin soon faded as he saw the irked expression on Horace's face. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Yes, actually. Where's your father? I need to deck him for something." Daniel frowned in confusion, which only grew as Liam rounded the corner, dressed in a ranger cloak and holding his sides with laughter.

"I'm not sure I understand… And, Liam, where on earth did you get that cloak?" Daniel asked reasonably.

This rather simple question sent Liam into a fit of giggles, which left Horace with an even more annoyed expression on his face.

Horace sighed. "Dan, where is your father?"

"I don't know – he went out a few hours ago. I'm not sure when he'll-"

"Hullo, Horace." A calm voice called from the tree that Daniel had just climbed down from. "Nice cloak, Liam." Will smiled.

"You!" Horace glared. "What was all this for? Are you trying to make me look like an idiot?"

Will looked up in thought, and then shrugged. "Well, that was the general idea."

"Dad, what's going on?" Daniel asked, sending confused glances between his father and uncle.

"Oh, nothing. You're uncle here just refuses to take a joke, is all." Will grinned as he looked down at Horace in a triumphant way. Horace narrowed his eyes at the ranger.

"It's been nearly twenty years since that stupid trip, and yet you still feel the need to torment me, do you?"

"Just returning the favor, Horace."

Noting their bantering tones, Daniel was beginning to catch on. "Well," He said, "I , for one, am staying out of this." He raised his hands in a defensive gesture before taking shelter by the apartment. Liam caught on.

"You know, that's not a bad idea. I think I'll just-"

"Oh, no you don't." Horace grabbed the boy's collar as he passed and kept him where he was. "You played a part in all this – you're staying."

"But I didn't do anything!"

"Oh, yes you did. You're the one who started this whole thing."

"Am not – it was uncle Will's idea!"

"That may be so, but you're still responsible for some of it." Horace's tone was teasing, now, but Liam didn't fully catch on to it.

"Uncle Will, you said this would be funny, but," Liam glanced at his father, and then back at Will. "I don't think this is very funny!"

"Oh, let the poor boy go, Horace. It's not his fault."

"Fine. But you have to come down here." Horace let his son's collar go and crossed his arms as he glared up at Will. Liam scampered away towards where Daniel was standing.

"What do you take me for, an idiot?" Will scoffed. "I'll do no such thing.

"What, is the little ranger scared of the intimidating knight?"

"In your dreams. But the little ranger does know that the knight is no climber."

"Excuse me?"

"Just playing to my strengths, Horace. But feel free to try. Could be entertaining."

"Why, you…"

And so began a long quipping banter. Liam and Daniel watched with growing amusement as their respective fathers lashed out verbal jests at each other left and right like a pair of immature schoolboys.

"Do you suppose they really mean anything by all this?" Liam looked up at his friend. Daniel, who was two years older and several inches taller than Liam, shook his head.

"Nah. I think they do it just to annoy each other."

The two watched for several more minutes, in which Horace tried to climb the tree and Will served some rather sharp insults on Horace's inability to do so. The two adults had all but forgotten that their children stood watching them.

"Kind of fun to watch, really." Daniel remarked. Liam nodded, and grimaced as his father got whacked 'accidentally' in the forehead by Will's boot. Both teens chuckled as Horace yanked of the offending footwear and tossed it into the bushes, much to Will's dismay.

"Do you think they've always been like this?" Liam asked.

Daniel was about to give a speculative answer, but he was interrupted by a voice coming from directly behind the two boys.

"Oh, you have no idea."

Both teens wheeled around to face the speaker, and were only half surprised to find a cloaked figure standing just behind them, the top of his grey beard revealing the hint of a smile.

"Grandpa!" Daniel exclaimed. "How did you – oh, never mind." The teen shrugged away Halt's sudden appearance with a slight smirk.

"Hullo, Halt." Liam grinned.

Halt nodded at the prince.

"I was wondering where that cloak got to. I'm surprised your father has kept it all these years."

"You're the second person to mention it, but I still don't know exactly how he got it."

"Oh, really?" Halt's eyebrows rose. "Well, I suppose I could tell you." He glanced around the two boys to their bickering fathers. "How long have they been going on like this?"

Daniel shrugged. "Seven, eight minutes or so."

Halt nodded. "Well then, we've got plenty of time before they stop their arguing." He put a hand to his beard. "Now, let's see if I remember about that cloak…"

"Dad always says something about a demented bull when he talks about the cloak." Liam told him. Halt looked over at him.

"Demented bull?" He let out a bark of laughter. "Rubbish. The man must be sadly mistaken – it wasn't demented at all."

"It wasn't?"

"Not hardly. Now, what really happened was this…" Halt turned around, putting a hand on a shoulder of either of his 'grandsons' and leading them away from Will and Horace's fighting. As they passed the apartments that Will and his family were staying in, a side door opened, and Caitlyn came out.

"What's going on here?" She glanced around confusedly. Liam smiled at her.

"Caitlyn, you're just in time – Halt was just about to tell us about the time dad fought a demented Pictish bull!"

"It wasn't demented," Halt corrected him, "It couldn't have hurt a pussy cat."

"Demented bull… Uncle Horace…" Caitlyn glanced confusedly over at her father and uncle. Currently, Will was missing one boot, Horace had a twig sticking up out of his hair, and the poor oak tree had been stripped of a long section of bark. The confused fourteen year old turned back around, and was about to inquire about the odd circumstances, but something else caught her eye first. "Liam, did Dad give you that cloak?" She asked.

Halt shook his head. "No, it's mine. Or was, rather. I gave it to Horace a while back."

"Which happens to involve the very same story that you were about to tell us, Grandpa," Daniel reminded him.

"Oh, right. Harmless Pictish bull. Right. Come along, Caitlyn." He waved her into their small trekking party as they headed further away from the squabble. "Well, it all started when Will, Horace and I were tracking Tennyson – a very dangerous man – and his followers through Picta. Have any of you heard of Genovesians? Disgusting men. Scum of the earth, really. Now, as we were tracking them closer to the Araluen border, we came across a small cattle farm, and we quickly found out that Tennyson planned to raid the ranch on his way into Araluen. Naturally, we had to stop him. So as traveled across country, I lent Horace my spare cloak. And then, in the dead of night…"

As Halt carried on with the story, every one of the teenagers around him gave him their unwavering attention. Soon, the shouts and jibes and retorts and snaps of the fight died away, replaced by the enthralling tale of how Horace, (after a large amount of encouragement on Halt's part) used Halt's old cloak to successfully scare the not-so-demented bull into stampeding the herd of cattle and saving the farm from raiding thugs.

"Was Dad really that scared of a bull?" Liam had asked through a chuckle at one point.

"Scared? Like a little girl! I had to nearly scare the darned thing myself because your father refused to so much as look at the thing. And then Will came careening down the hill, waving his hands about like a lunatic," Daniel and Caitlyn shared a laugh at that, "And Horace finally got on with it."

"What happened after that?" Daniel asked. He'd always enjoyed his grandfather's stories.

"Well, after that, we had to keep following Tennyson and the Genovesians, of course. This is where it really gets interesting. You see, we had to start tracking them through a drowned forest…"

After a while, Will and Horace finally paused in their bickering just long enough to realize, with slight surprise, that their children had disappeared.

"Where do you suppose they're off to?" Horace asked. Will shrugged, trying to figure out how to climb down from a tree with only one boot on.

"Probably got bored with all your yapping. Now give me my shoe."

Horace, who was picking leaves and twigs out of his hair, rolled his eyes. "Ha ha. Very funny. Go get your own shoe."

"Horace, why… Ugh, please just, oh, never mind."

Unexpectedly, Alyss came out of the apartment, crossing her arms at the sight of her husband and her friend.

"Ah, Alyss!" Will said pleasantly. He'd somehow managed to flip himself upside-down in the process of getting down, and so his hair hung down in a wild fashion around his inverted face. "Do you have any idea where our children have gone off to?" He glanced about for a good landing spot.

Alyss just shook her head at the sight of them. "Liam, Dan and Kate all went off with Halt about an hour or so ago."

Both freezing in what they were doing, Horace picking leaves out of his hair, Will hanging upside down to a branch with one bare foot, the two friends looked at each other sharply.

"That's not good." Horace said.

"No." Will agreed. "Not good at all."

With sudden speed and a comical lack of grace, the two managed to detangle all twigs and replace all boots before shooting off in the directing which Alyss casually indicated for them. She shook her head as they ran off in pursuit of their children and the story-telling ranger. Sometimes, she wondered if those two had ever really grown up at all.

Unfortunately, both ranger and knight arrived on the scene too late to undo the damage. Gathered around an outdoor fire pit, Halt sat with five attentive listeners, (Benjamin and Elanor had been picked up sometime along their journey) weaving tales of great adventure, with battles, schemes, and villains, all filled to the brim with exciting settings, funny mishaps, far-off lands and plenty of colorful characters. None more colorful, of course, than the ranger and knight who also sat listening, rather begrudgingly, off to one side. Both felt that Halt completely misrepresented their bravery and competence, and completely overplayed their every act of clumsiness and naivety. Their children, however, took great amusement out of the stories.

At one point, Gilan had joined the circle, and had come to stand behind Will before sitting down.

"How did that prank work out for you?" He asked. Receiving no answer beyond a dead-pan glare, Gilan smiled. "Well, in any case, I told Halt he might want to go fetch his cloak back." Gilan feigned innocence. "Who knew that he'd go off on a tangent, telling such stories, eh? And in front of all your children, at that."

Will just glared.

Gilan smiled and found a seat.

"You know, this has been a most informative evening," Cassandra commented from where she sat next to Horace.

"Indeed," Alyss chimed in from Will's side. "I had no idea my husband was so prone to misfortune – for however comical that misfortune may be." Her grey eyes twinkled. Will sulked childishly, and he shared a dismal look with Horace, who was in similar spirits.

"Oh, don't be so glum." Cassandra urged. "Halt's just getting to the good part of when you rescued me from those evil Temujai." She hugged Horace's arm endearingly, and he seemed to cheer up slightly.

Likewise, Alyss gave Will a kiss on the cheek to cheer him up. "You did bring this upon yourself, you know."

Will just grumbled. But in the flickering firelight, Alyss could spot the grin threatening to show. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"Besides, if your children are going to hear these stories from anyone, it should be from the man who knows you two the best." She nodded towards Halt. And, of course, Will had to agree.

Halt said something rather suddenly with force, and little Elanor, hugging her stuffed white pony with the green ribbon, jumped where she sat in Daniel's lap. At seventeen, Daniel would have liked to have said that he remained calm, but in truth, he jumped as much as Elanor, as did the rest of the children.

"You know, back then, I never would have thought it'd end up like this." Horace commented, referring to the time when they'd all been so young, returning home from Skandia.

Will smiled. "Yeah, me neither." He said, his eyes growing distant as he ruminated on times past. He paused in thought for a moment, and then smiled. "But I'm sure glad it did." He said. As their children laughed at something Halt had said, Horace smiled as well.

"Yeah, me too."

The two friends remained silent for a few moments, before:

"But I'll be darned if I ever let Liam touch that cloak again."

At that, they all laughed.

finis

And so the nonsense comes to an end. Man, that was a long oneshot. I hope y'all enjoyed it. R&R, please! Oh, and despite the reference to 'The Emporer of Nihon-Ja', I haven't actually read book 10 yet, so NO SPOILERS, PLEASE.

*AHEM*

Now, seriously. Go review. Please.