"Halt, dear, sit up! It's not fitting for the future king to slouch like a vagabond!" The queen smiled brightly, almost harshly, in her bright dress. The smile was fake, and the brightness of her artificial appearance seemed to hurt Halt's eyes as much as the lie behind the gesture.

The young man glanced expressionlessly up at his mother, sitting at the end of the table as the queen should, and slouched further. The queen pursed her lips and her eyes flashed with cold for a moment, but she didn't pursue the matter.

"May I have some more peas, please?" the girl sitting next to Halt asked deliberately, turning and smiling at the servant behind her.

"Don't acknowledge the serving staff like that, Caitlyn," their mother chastised the girl without missing a beat. "It's supposed to appear as if they're not there."

"Yes, mother," Caitlyn replied evenly, watching the peas spill onto her plate. She cast Halt a sidelong glance and smiled sympathetically. Halt's expression didn't exactly soften, but went from surly to depressed when he caught her eye.

"Yes, sit up, Halt," A boy across from Halt and Katherine sneered, "The rest of us are."

"Ferris, now please," the queen crooned, and this time, the affection was real. Ferris flashed the queen an innocent smile.

"Of course, mother." he replied sweetly, then laughed, "But he does have awful table manners."

"So?" Halt retorted tiredly. He didn't have the energy right now to defend himself, and didn't see the point if it wouldn't help.

"Ferris does have a point, though, Halt," the queen turned back to the slouching boy with a flash of irritation. "I wish you would start caring about your role in life. Our honor is at stake."

Halt flinched inwardly. If they could just listen, they would realize he did truly care about his kingdom, but he cared nothing for position and fame. Those didn't help a cause in his eyes, and it grated on his nerves when his family stressed the importance of status. But the argument was too well worn to bring it up again, so he continued to slouch. Finally, the queen slapped her napkin on the table, her eyes flashing with suppressed anger.

"Sit UP, you ungrateful boy!" She finally hissed venomously.

"Mother!" Caitlyn cried in dismay, her eyes reflecting hurt of her brother.

"Halt, lis-"

"Quiet!" the king roared, breaking his silence at last, "The lot of you bickering every waking moment is driving me to insanity!"

Few people could have looked the king steadily in the eye at that moment. The queen was one of them. Completely undaunted, she turned her bitter rant towards the king.

"And I suppose you don't contribute to it at all?" she snapped. "If I could-"

Both adults spoke back and forth in increasingly agitated and cutting tones. Caitlyn covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. Ferris watched intently, only momentary flashes of distress crossing his features. Halt stared at his plate for a short moment, then pushed his chair back abruptly and ran out of the room, his expression stony.

The boy hurried quickly down hallways, through doors, passing guards who bowed as he passed. He glared at them briefly but didn't slow at all. Finally, he reached the wall of the castle, and stood there for a moment in the bright sunlight, leaning over the wall as far as he could and taking deep breaths. The breeze was warm and gentle, and he could smell the cool earth from the shade of the trees beckoning to him from the other side of the wall.

How could it only be noon? he wondered wildly, tormented by the raised voices in the dining room even though he was far out of earshot. Hadn't there been enough pain for one day?

None of this showed on his face, but he stood there of some time, trying to sort out his racing emotions. It hurt. It hurt to be so different from everything his parents wanted him to be. He couldn't change who he was, and it left him feeling like a freak.

Finally he opened his eyes and watched the woods, letting the quiet calm him. Instantly, he heard something out of place. A dull "thunk", repeated by a second one. It sounded like something hitting wood, but it was not an axe.

Grateful for any distraction, and intensely curious, Halt drew back from the wall and headed to the gate underneath him. The hurt remained, but was pushed deep into the back of his mind as he eagerly began to guess what it could be.

Once outside the gates, he ventured carefully into the forest, trying not to make any sound. Which was a little difficult, because he had so little experience in the woods.

At last a figure came into focus through the trees. One lone man, white haired but strong. He stood in a mottled green cloak that made Halt's head hurt to look at.

"Thunk!" the man threw another knife at a target several meters away. It spun end over end and stuck perfect in the center of the target next to several others that had been found. The figure walked up to the target to retrieve all the knives out of the target and then start the process over again. Halt took the opportunity while the man's back was turned to move a bit closer. Unfortunately, he stepped on a stick as he moved forward and it seemed incredibly loud compared to the man's nearly silent movement.

"What do you want, son?" The man asked without turning his back. His voice was soft, but powerful- and very foreign. Halt started, and forgot to answer. The man turned back to face him, his cloak creating dizzying patterns around him as it swished.

"Well?"

"... Why are you doing that?" the boy found his voice finally.

"So I don't forget how." the responded gruffly, but not unkindly. There was a pause.

"Can I watch?" Halt asked finally, finding himself unwilling to leave.

"I don't care," the man shrugged, resuming his activity.

Halt was dazzled by the accuracy and assurance the man had as he threw his knives. They hit the target without fail, and most of them were within an inch of so of the center. After several rounds, the man turned to look at the boy again.

"You still here?"

Halt shrugged. The man's tone seemed kind almost, despite the gruff delivery, and the boy respected its

enough to give some form of response.

"Do you want to try?"

Everything in Halt jumped for an opportunity to try his hand at this, but he merely nodded after a moment's consideration and stepped up to the throwing line. He accepted one of the knives, and studied it for a moment. feeling the weight and balance of the blade- calculating.

The blade left Halt's hand with a satisfying flick of the wrist and tumbled end over end- right past the target and into the bushes behind it. Halt narrowed his eyes and studied it for a minute, then accept a second knife.

This time the knife hit the target very close to the center, but with the handle. It bounced off with a loud "clang!" and Halt winced a little.

'Not bad, boy," the man behind him spoke up. Halt turned to look at him, waiting silently.

"Your parents are probably missing you by now," he continued. He didn't miss the flicker of panicked discomfort cross the boy's eyes, although not many people could have seen it.

"You don't like it at home?" he inquired softly. Halt hesitated, then shook his head.

"You running away?"

Halt resignedly shook his head. In truth, he had seriously considered it, but he knew he could never escape the dogs that would surely be sent after him. He also hadn't the slightest idea about how to survive out in the woods. It occurred to Halt that this man had no idea who he was.

"Well then," the man raised his hand to scratch his beard, thinking, "I guess you can come practice with me if you'd like- when you can come. You got a name, son?"

"I- ahhh, it's Halt. Sir," the boy stammered, caught off guard by the man's offer. His mind started buzzing with excitement as scenarios and possibilities ran through his head of the things he could accomplish while training with this foreigner.

"Course, it'd only be for as long as I'm here," the man warned, raising his hands against the boy's eagerness. Halt nodded enthusiastically. "I might not stay long." another eager nod. "And you'd have to show some potential, too."

Halt was practically bursting with the desire to improve on his knife throwing skills, and there were implications that the man had more skills to teach him as well. In the meantime, Halt could ask for some throwing knives to practice with in between studies, and he would make every effort to sneak away when he could.

"My name's Pritchard," the man offered, extending his hand. Halt gave him the barest hint of a smile and took it.

As Halt turned to leave, Pritchard called to him one last time.

"Boy, I don't know what's going on at home with you," his voice dropped and his eyes flashed with concern, "But be careful."

Halt looked at him for a long time, the emotions and anxiety of the morning finally coming back to him. Embarrassed and uncomfortable, the boy turned and ran without another word.

Pritchard watched him go, then sighed, collecting the knives from the last throw and putting them away. That kid was more closed off than he had ever seen someone. Certainly a change from his last apprentice...

But as he watched Halt disappear through the trees, he realized how much he had truly missed having someone around to teach. As much as he had loved his job as a ranger, there was nothing quite like teaching someone else and watching them become confident in their own skills. Not that there would really be a place for this boy to use his skills, but- Pritchard but his lip thoughtfully- he needed somewhere to go. To relax and feel safe, if only for a moment. He could at least do that for the boy.