A/N: I couldn't seem to fall asleep last night; so, thanks to insomnia, I got this chapter ready a little earlier than expected. Here it is then: the last chapter! Thank you guys for all the support, it really helps.

pennydragon: Yes, that's when he decided X) Thanks so much for the support and the review. I do have some other RA ideas rattling around in my head, so there's hope XD Thanks again.

IncomingAlbatross: I do actually like Phsyc (it's awesome!) And yay that you caught my little reference/nod to it XD But, truthfully, I actually really didn't mean to put any of Shawn into Gilan. If anything, it was actually Sir David's character that struck me as being similar in certain aspects to Henry's character when I read RA; so I thought to Henry's character as a little bit of an input point. David always seemed like such a super-dedicated knight that I thought some of the ways they might act could be similar. ;) I'm glad you like it though and think it's believable. Thanks for the review!

Guest: Dawww *bluhes and dies of embarrassment* that's so nice of you to say. I agree with you about Gilan XD That will definitely be in this chapter. Thank you so much for the review and for the compliment, I really appreciate it.

TrustTheCloak: Thanks :) writing kids (despite not being much older than one myself) is usually a little trickier for me, so I'm glad it worked out this time. I like Dad/David too. Thanks for the encouragement and for the review.

TheRanger'sDaughter: I'm glad you liked it. Well, I thought that Gilan had to have learned those moves from Halt so, I just had him use them XD. Thanks for the review, you totally made my day.

Dragonslover98: I love Halt coming to the rescue XD He's my favorite character. Thank you for the compliment and for the review, it brightened my day considerably.

Epilogue

"What I don't get," Edward said as the two knights, the Ranger, and the cadet were leading the captured bandits back to Caraway, "Is how you knew that what Robert said was a trap?"

The question was directed at Gilan who, at his father's urging, had been explaining how Robert had lured him from Battleschool. The young cadet in question looked genuinely puzzled for a moment.

"He said my father was badly injured and that he wanted to see me. He didn't really try very hard to make it believable." he shrugged, and then, seeing Edward's still puzzled look, elaborated. "If my father was badly hurt in an accident like that, he wouldn't ask for me, he'd ask for his men at arms or his senior officers. Also, dad's the highest ranking knight in the castle. If it was true, Robert's first duty should have been to inform the Baron and the senior staff, not me. It's standard protocol, after all."

Sir David exchanged a quiet glance with Halt. Gilan spoke as if such regulations were common knowledge among cadets, but David knew that probably less than half of first and second-year apprentices knew it. In fact, David hadn't really been sure that Gilan had been paying enough attention to know it himself. To add to that, David was fairly sure that not many of the cadets that did know it, would have been able to put two and two together as quickly.

"Because of that, I knew he was after me for some reason," Gilan went on. "I thought it might be easier to escape from him later if I pretended I didn't know," he finished, making it all sound fairly simple and unimportant.

"How did you know when to give Robert the slip?" Edward asked then.

Gilan smiled a little sheepishly. "It was nearing the spot where I was supposed to have met dad, so I guessed, sir."

Edward laughed. Gilan stole a glance to the left and slightly downwards, albeit a little nervously, towards the Ranger who sat on his smaller mount. Gilan had always been more than a little in awe of Halt. Though he knew the rumors of sorcery were untrue, Halt had always seemed to verge on uncanny. And what he had seen Halt do today only added to that awe. He dearly wanted to know how Halt had managed to show up just in time—but was a little too afraid to ask him. Now, however, the Ranger caught his eye and Gilan thought that he saw that same fleeting, quiet, look of approval again. For some odd reason, that look filled him with the same sense of accomplishment and pleasure he felt when his dad offered him his rare words of praise—if not more so.

~x~X~x~

While his dad, Sir Edward, and Halt went to the Baron in order to deal with the captured bandits and the whole incident, Gilan led his borrowed horse back to the stable. He knew that he was already very late in reporting back from his run and late in taking care of the horse of the senior officer. He removed the horse's tack and gave it a measure of grain and water before giving the animal a rubdown.

It was in doing that simple familiar task, that he had done so many times before, that he began to feel an odd sense of happiness welling up in him. He was alive, and so were his father and Sir Edward. It all could have ended so much differently, he knew. Yet here he was, still here to do the everyday task of rubbing down a horse. For some reason, it seemed almost funny to him. He patted the horse's neck, chuckling softly. When he was finished and left the stall, shutting the door behind him.

"Cadet Gilan, stand to!"

He froze instantly at the harshly shouted command and then stood stiffly to attention, turning to face a very red-faced Sir Gavin.

"Sir," he greeted cheerfully.

Life was fragile and uncertain and he had just decided that this meant the good bits of it needed to be noted and enjoyed all the more because of it. Today was a good day to be alive, he thought. So he included the man in his smile. He was quite willing, at that moment, to share his unreasoning sense of happiness with anyone—even a person as dour, humorless, and severe as Sir Gavin.

But the Drill Master seemed even less interested in pleasant greetings than usual. Gilan's smile faded as the man closed the distance between them with several quick strides and towered over him. The expression on his face admittedly made Gilan want to take a couple steps backward. He had seen the Drill Master angry many times before, but never quite to this extent.

"Five infractions in one day! In all my years as an instructor I have never had another cadet make so many in one week, let alone one day. What the hell were you thinking? To make matters worse some of them are totally intolerable matters like sabotage!" He flung his broken swagger stick down to land with a ringing crack at Gilan's feet.

"Such behavior from a knight or man at arms would result in their immediate court-martial! It is a beyond serious matter!" The Drill Master glared down at him, obviously expecting some form of reply.

"With respect sir, can you prove that it was me who sabotaged your cane?" Gilan asked blankly, in a vain hope that, if the answer were no, he might eek his way out of that one. He wasn't quite ready to give up his happy mood yet, if ever; also, he was curious to know the answer.

"What?" Sir Gavin spluttered, taken completely off guard by the unexpected question. "Of course I can't prove that it was you," he said, drawing himself up to his full height and putting his hands behind his back.

"Then how do you know for sure that it was me, sir?" he asked, assuming an innocent expression.

Sir Gavin floundered angrily for words; even more enraged than before at the young cadet's impudence, his unmitigated daring. He was also angry because he had no proof and he knew it. At the same time, he was in no mood to bandy words with a mere cadet, or play games.

"Well," he stammered, blustering, "did you?"

Gilan looked up into the man's angry eyes and felt a sudden inclination to lie, before he shook it off rather despondently. He had been hoping that Gavin wouldn't ask that. He might bend the truth here and there but he could not bring himself to flat out lie to his commanding officer's face.

"Yes, I did, sir," he admitted finally, very quietly, after a heated silence. The happy feeling was quickly shrinking away.

Gavin all but exploded with rage at that. "Then why waste my time with stupid questions?" he roared. "I suppose that the stain on your tunic wasn't put there by you either?" he demanded sarcastically.

Gilan hesitated. It was obvious that he was in deep trouble, and telling Sir Gavin that it wasn't his surcoat might lessen it some, but this time he shut his mouth. He didn't want Thomas to get in trouble. Hearing no answer, Gavin spoke on, listing off his offenses.

"You failed to take care of your kit, you sabotaged my property, failed to report back after your run, stole your senior officer's horse, and were absent without leave!"

He closed the distance further until they were practically face to face. "You are the Battlemaster's son. You are supposed to be an example, but instead, you do the opposite. Your actions bring nothing but shame to your father's good name.

"You, cadet, are a negligent, disrespectful, disobedient thief. You have a complete disregard for authority and honor. If you continue on in this manner, you will never amount to anyone worthy of respect and will have absolutely no place among the ranks of honorable men!

"This time you have gone too far and I have had enough. I am going to call for an immediate hearing in order to discuss your fitness to stay in the Battleschool! Am I understood?"

For a moment, Gilan stood frozen. This was not the first time he had been dressed down, but it was admittedly the worst, and it wasn't exactly fair all things considered.

"But, sir-"

"I asked you if you understood cadet!"

"Yes," he managed to gasp.

"Yes, what?" Gavin roared.

"Yes, sir," Gilan said, miserably.

His jaw set in frustration. He might have been able to take it with much more aplomb if it had been a fair assessment and had he not already gone through a rather trying day where he, his father, and another knight had almost been killed.

To add to all of the frustration, what Sir Gavin had said, hurt slightly. And because all his defenses had already been considerably battered today, the frustration and the hurt were magnified more than they might have been under other circumstances. To his shame, he felt the beginnings of tears prickling his eyes and his throat beginning to burn ever so slightly.

All his previous joy at being alive and pride at having earned his father's and the Ranger's approval was slowly shriving away. To be dropped from Battleschoool… he could hardly think of anything more shameful. He hated Battleschool, it was true; but he didn't want to quit in disgrace, he didn't want to fail. He sometimes felt that he had to work twice as hard to maintain good marks as a normal cadet because he shared none of their passions or drive for knighthood. To be dropped after putting in that much effort, and that much time, was almost unbearable.

In that moment he knew he didn't want to know what his father would think of all this. Sir Gavin seemed to blur ever so slightly out of focus as Gilan flatly refused to let himself cry in front of him. He forced his expression to go blank as he wished for this all to be over... but Gavin wasn't yet finished. He drew breath to add to his tirade when he was suddenly interrupted.

"Calling for his dismissal would be unfortunate," a low calm and slightly accented voice said from behind Sir Gavin.

The Drill Master whirled around to face the intrusion and his anger died substantially when he saw that it was Halt.

"What do you mean?" Gavin asked.

"I mean it would be unfortunate because this cadet here has a fairly decent excuse for at least three of those offenses—such as being kidnapped," Halt said blank-faced, before he explained what had happened to Sir Gavin. When he was finished, the Drill Master took a pace back with shock.

"Why wasn't I informed of this matter?" he demanded.

"Sir David just sent me to find you actually," Halt replied. "He is calling for a meeting of all his senior staff as we speak."

Gavin seemed almost to deflate. With only the slightest bluster still left in his manner, he turned back to Gilan. "Halt has informed me that I spoke without full knowledge," he said uncomfortably. "I regret being hasty with my judgment." Then he cleared his throat. "Though you can consider it a warning should you think to continue on in such a manner," he added severely, gesturing towards his beloved and broken swagger stick.

"Understood, sir," Gilan said.

He no longer felt like nearly crying, all he felt was relief. He bit his lip in an attempt to hide the new smile that was threatening to break across his face. The Drill Master had been after him before for smiling at inopportune moments such as during drill parades or when he was supposed to be standing at attention. His hidden smile was in part a smile of relief and gratitude for the grim-bearded Ranger's timely intervention. It was also in part a smile of amusement at Gavin's deflated bluster; it was, admittedly, a little funny. As soon as Gavin's back was to him he no longer tried to hide the grin. He inclined his head towards the Ranger in silent but heartfelt thanks.

"Also, in regards to his surcoat," Halt said slowly. "It isn't his. It doesn't even come close to fitting him properly. My guess is that he swapped with another student."

"But why?" Gavin asked.

"Perhaps the student in question was also threatened with being kicked out of Battleschool," Halt said meaningfully.

"It's true, sir," Gilan put in, once again awestruck of Halt's observation and reasoning skills—and also slightly sheepish at having been found out. "And it wasn't his fault either. Some other students put it there deliberately so he would get in trouble. He was afraid to report it because he thought you'd just think it an excuse, sir."

"And which students put it there?" Gavin asked, growing angry again, but not at Gilan this time.

"My guess would be the two other students that had stains on their surcoats today," Halt said and Gilan nodded confirmation.

"Rolland and Henry," Gavin said to himself, not looking too surprised. "I'll be sure to look into that."

"I think that would be a good idea," Halt agreed.

"We'd better report to the Battlemaster," Sir Gavin said, making as if to leave. He had just made it to the door of the stables when he turned back. "It would probably be best if you were to report to your quarters; it's late, cadet."

"Yes, sir," Gilan saluted and headed off towards the cadets' barracks in the two men's wake.

He was out again several hours past lights out though, stealthily wandering the battlements. Part of him had known that it wasn't at all wise to be willfully breaking rules so soon after Gavin's warning threat. He had definitely pushed his luck too far of late. He, however, hadn't been able to sleep. He had far too much energy still and, besides that, he needed to clear his mind. That was not something that could be easily done in the confining presence of so many others. He needed to be alone for that.

He stared out over the battlements and towards the forest. So much had happened that it seemed hard to believe that it had all only occurred several hours ago. It seemed longer. For the first time in a long time, he found that he really and truly understood the purpose and usefulness of all the things his father had taught him, and all the things he had learned at Battleschool. He had a vague thought that this newfound understanding should suddenly make him feel a surge of new purpose and re-dedication to Battleschool. And, if by the off chance that that didn't do it, then Sir Gavin's threat that he should be removed from Battleschool should have served in its place.

But the truth was that he didn't feel any different than he had before. He was still sick of Battleschool, sick of the rigor, the never-ending protocol, the discipline. In fact, the more he thought on it, the more he realized that he didn't want to be a knight. He wanted to find something that was his, something he could really strive for, something that would excite him.

His thoughts flew towards Halt and what he had seen him do today—his skill, his cunning... Gilan didn't want to be a knight; he wanted to be a Ranger and live like they lived. He wanted to know what it would be like. He wanted to know what they knew. He had never been more curious or passionate about anything before.

The only problem was that he didn't really know how to become one; he only had a vague idea about approaching the Ranger Commandant—and he knew he was still too young for that. And all that aside, there was a bigger problem... he didn't know how he would ever tell his father. After all, his dad had been teaching him about, and training him in, the ways of a knight for as long as he could remember. Sighing, he looked away from the comforting presence of the woods and began to stealthily make his way back to the cadets' barracks.

On his way, however, he passed by a sentry who was obviously half asleep while on watch. A grin spread across his face as he debated silently with himself. Then he shrugged and altered his course. He moved instinctively with the shadows until he was standing at the man's left side. He reached a gentle hand towards the man's sword belt: his motions slow, careful and patient. Soon he was gripping the sentry's weapon by the hilt. He paused, glancing at the guard. The man had not even come close to becoming aware of his presence. With a practiced motion, Gilan drew the man's blade from its scabbard.

The soldier shifted slightly, but did not respond, or register Gilan's light touch enough, to actually pull him from his half-sleep. Once the sword was in Gilan's possession, he carefully planted it point first into the timbers of the battlement's walkway. He put it very close to the man's side so that, if there were an emergency and the soldier reached for his blade, it would be near enough to his sword belt for his hand to come into contact with it.

Silently, he moved away, chuckling softly to himself as soon as he was out of earshot. His smile brightened substantially as he caught sight of another sentry. Finding two half-asleep guards in one night was a rare and fortuitous occurrence indeed.

~x~X~x~

Sir David and a small contingency of his knights and men at arms were returning to the castle in the very early hours of the morning. They had just finished the task of burying the few bandits that had been killed several hours previous, and Sir Robert. Sir David felt a hand of sorrow grip at his heart when he thought of the traitor knight and his failed and misguided attempt at revenge.

He entered the castle gates and put his horse in the care of the bleary-eyed stable boy. Having done that, he decided to take a walk around the battlement in order to clear his head. He knew would not be able to sleep otherwise.

He had lost one who had once been a good man, and that saddened him. It saddened him also that he had been so oblivious to the festering hatred that had grown in Robert until it had been too late for both of them. He found himself wondering then: if he had noticed sooner, could he have done something to stop it all?

But then he shook his head. There was no use bandying thoughts about what ifs and perchances. No amount of wishful thinking could ever change the past. All one could ever do about the past was remember it, learn from it—so that it would never repeat itself—and move on. That view and knowledge didn't make it hurt any less, but there it was. He had lost a good knight. He probably would always regret that, regret that things couldn't have turned out differently. At least, he thought sadly as he stared at the stars, at least Robert would be at peace now.

He sighed and looked away from the pinpoints of light that lit up the black sky and tried to shake his head free of dark thoughts. As he continued on his way, he felt a slight hope beginning to take root inside him. He had lost a good knight today but perhaps he had also gained a good knight. Perhaps that afternoon's experience might have reminded his son the value of everything he had tried to teach him—the value and duty of a knight—even when the kingdom was at peace. Perhaps this was the push that he had suspected that Gilan might need in order for him to grow out of that sense of mischief so that he could focus and apply himself fully into the training of a knight.

He caught sight of one of the wall sentries ahead of him and felt all his high hopes suddenly dashed. On the other hand, he thought darkly to himself, perhaps not. It appeared that Gilan couldn't even wait until morning before he was back to his usual tricks.

He made his way over to the soldier in question and stood in front of him. The man jumped slightly and then moved to make a hasty salute.

"Sir."

"Have you seen anything worthy of report," David asked mildly and the guard in question shook his head instantly.

"All's been quiet up here, sir," he said.

David frowned slightly. "And you're sure you've been fully alert for your whole shift, I suppose."

"Of course, sir, I've been wide awake and alert…" the soldier trailed off slightly as he followed his commanding officer's gaze to see his sword standing point first beside him, its tip buried in the timbers. "Damn," the sentry muttered despondently at the sight, knowing that his inattentiveness would most likely end up giving him a week of extra duties, (not to mention the extra time he would have to spend re-honing the point on his sword as well).

~x~X~x~

Halt was heading back to Caraway Fief about a week later after having finished escorting the pompous nobleman. His purpose for returning so soon was in part due to a desire to see how the business with the bandits had cleared up. But mostly it was out of a desire for some worthwhile company—after having spent so many days in the presence of that pompous nobleman. He was let through into the castle without question and he took Abelard into the stables.

Another reason he had come to see Sir David was because he had been hoping to get his friend's advice, or at the very least his opinion, on a problem that had been bothering him of late. Crowley had been, for lack of a better word, nagging him lately to find himself an apprentice. It was something that every Ranger had to do sooner or later—especially since the Corps had been so weakened by Morgarath and his rebellion. And Crowley had reinforced that request a couple days ago when he had finished his escort mission.

Halt wanted to hear David's opinion because he was not quite sure of his own thoughts on the matter. He had been putting it off because he was unsure, and because he had not yet found the right person be his student. Taking on an apprentice would be a huge responsibility as well as a huge undertaking. If he was going to take on one, he didn't want to dedicate that much of his time and life to someone sub-standard. He needed someone that… his thoughts trailed as he crossed the castle yard.

Sir Gavin was directing the cadets in close order drill. He caught sight of Gilan and frowned slightly. The young cadet didn't seem to be really focused or dedicated to the drill at hand, if expressions and body language were anything to judge by. In fact, Halt had never really seen him seem to enjoy or find passion or purpose in his knight's training. However, Gilan's despondent expression changed slightly when he caught sight of Halt.

Halt had long since become used to seeing fear and even suspicion in the eyes of most Araluens. But Gilan's eyes weren't like that, and they never really had been. There was only ever awe, respect—and, today, something that seemed to whisper of desperate hope, burning curiosity, and longing all at once. Then Gilan slid his gaze away from Halt in an almost shifty manner. It was in a manner Halt had often seen men do when they were planning or debating whether or not to act. Halt had a sudden suspicion that he knew what was on the young cadet's mind.

Soon Halt was passed the yard. He pursed his lips slightly in thought as he once again felt David's son's eyes fixed on him, now that his back was turned. He had always thought that Gilan possessed many of the skills necessary for a Ranger. He was intelligent, curious, had a good head when it came to combat and he had a natural instinct for unseen movement. With proper training, those qualities could be honed even further. Not only that, but, during the bandit incident, the boy had even tried to save his life—something he'd done before during the Battle of Hackham Heath He realized then that he would be willing to act on this suspicion of his, despite a few niggling feelings of uncertainty. The boy was a little mischievous and highly energetic after all; he would be more than a handful. Even after he finally found Sir David, his mind was still occupied with those thoughts.

"Halt, I didn't expect to see you so soon," Sir David greeted with a smile. He reached out to clasp arms with the Ranger.

"I wanted to see how you were coming along with the bandit incident. And I wondered if I might have a word with you."

David's expression seemed to tighten a little.

"The bandit incident..." He sighed. "The ones we captured are on their way to trial, and we had a memorial for Robert about four days ago."

"For Robert?" Halt raised an eyebrow. "I seem to recall that he betrayed you."

"Yes," David agreed, sounding pained, "he did. But he was a good man once, and a friend. You can't fault me for choosing to remember him for who he was."

He was right there, Halt couldn't fault him. In a way, he felt he understood. A moment of silence passed between them before David broke it.

"But enough about that, you wanted to speak with me about something?"

"Yes. It's about Gilan."

"Ah," David said, frowning slightly. "I don't know what's gotten into him this past year—and it goes further than his general mischief and fooling around. I don't know what to do about it. It's not that he isn't doing well in Battleschool; it's just that he isn't doing his best or trying to reach his potential. I wish there was some way I could spark some focus, passion, and a sense of discipline in him." David confided, looking towards the grizzled Ranger as he waited patiently to hear what Halt was going to say.

He did not have long to wait. When Halt finally spoke, he found himself feeling a mild sense of surprise.

"I have a feeling that, when I leave today, Gilan is going to try to follow me…"

The End

A/N: Thank you for reading! If you have a mind to, let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is welcome, it's one of the only ways we learn and grow after all. I hope this proved to be an enjoyable little diversion, and that everything seemed believable and in character. I also hope that you all have amazing weeks.

~ATGTJ~