WARNING: SPOILERS FOR BOOK 10

A/N: Just a funny little oneshot that I thought up after reading book ten. It's been in my head for a long time, now, but I just got the inspiration to actually write it. Enjoy!

Horace strode down the hallways of Castle Araluen with a determined, springy gait. To anyone who didn't know him well, it would have appeared to be the confident stride of Araluen's greatest knight and Prince-to-be. However, anyone who really knew him would have recognized it as a rather particular gait of his - a gait that he hadn't adopted until after he'd begun associating with some of the Ranger Corps' more mischievous agents. Slightly more lithe and bouncy than his normal stride, it was a gait that could only mean one thing:

Horace Altman was up to no good.

He readjusted the package that he held behind his back and indulged in a smug grin as he envisioned what he was about to do. Horace wasn't normally the type to giggle, but it took him a moment to restrain himself from a small bout of laughter. As he walked across one of the many outdoor pathways that lead to the outer wings of the castle, Horace quickened his pace to escape the cold wind. It was November, and while the first snow hadn't yet fallen on Araluen's capitol, the winds from the North were beginning to send in the winter with a bone-chilling vengeance. He passed a guard and tried not to blush in embarrassment as the flustered young man made a clumsy salute in his direction. Briefly, Horace wondered if it would always be like this. The thought depressed him, so he quickly dispelled it, returned the man's salute with a small smile, and carried on. The young guard, ecstatic that the future Prince had shown such courtesy to him, beamed back at him. However, the smile turned into a frown of confusion as he spotted the strange package that the Prince carried with him. What was he up to?

Horace shook himself as he re-entered the warm hallways of the west wing. He paused briefly to gain his bearings – he hadn't been in this particular wing in a while, and even after several years, he had yet to memorize Castle Araluen's floorplan. (Even though his newfound royal status had granted him privy information concerning Araluen's network of secret passageways, the basic blueprints of the castle were left to him to untangle on his own.) After jogging his memory, he started down a hallway and veered right. He passed several lounging rooms, a small galley, and a library before he reached his final destination. There was a collection of visitor suites in the south wing, usually reserved for special guests or foreign dignitaries. At present, they housed one of Araluen's foremost heroes and Horace's oldest, best friend.

He paused in front of the door and took a moment to re-adjust the small package behind his back, so as to hide it completely from the view of whomever answered the door, then raised a hand and knocked firmly on the doorframe.

The latch raised and the door swung open to reveal a small, casually dressed ranger who had to look up to meet Horace's eyes.

"Oh, hello, Horace," Will said pleasantly, "What brings you here?"

Horace tried not to let his smile betray him. "Oh, just stopping by to visit. Wedding planning gets immensely boring after the first year or so, you know," he said sarcastically. Will smiled. It was true, the details of the upcoming royal wedding had been on the planning table for nearly a year. Now, just a few weeks away from the big date, everyone was growing anxious to pull it off without going mad from stress first.

"I'm sure. Come on in," Will motioned his friend inside.

Though he wasn't sure how he'd done it in front of a sharp-eyed ranger such as Will, Horace managed to hide his package as Will headed over to the fireplace, where a pot hung on a crane over the fire. From the aroma alone, Horace guessed that Will had gotten a hold of the recently-arrived Arridi Wakir, Selethen, for some of his prized kafay.

"So how are you faring these days? Gone completely mental yet? Because last time I spoke with Cassandra, she was acting certifiably insane. Completely un-Cassandra like." Will glanced at his friend with a look that read something of horror, "I don't envy you, that's for sure." He peeked over to see if the coffee was done brewing, and after deciding it wasn't, turned back to Horace.

The knight shrugged. "Yeah, well, the whole planning phase has been grating on her since day one, I think. Plus, she's worried about us making a good impression on the court."

"And you?"

He shrugged again. "I'm not worried. Neither is King Duncan – he says it's a female thing."

Will snorted. "I wouldn't tell Evanlyn that."

Horace smiled back, "Of course not."

There was a lull in the conversation, and Horace felt the small wrapped package press into his back. Deciding to take the opportunity of silence, Horace leant slightly forward.

"So," He said, his tone letting Will know he was changing the subject, "A certain someone told me that today is your birthday."

"Oh?" Will looked up quickly with a frown. "And who would this 'certain someone' be?"

"Halt."

"Oh," Will murmured in understanding. He returned his gaze to the coffee. "And what of it?"

"Well, first of all, I thought your birthday was weeks away," Horace's eyes begged the obvious question.

Will waved his hand dismissively. "Long story," He said.

Horace shrugged. It really made no difference to him – but he had been taken by surprise. "Anyway," He said, "I thought I might be the first to wish you a happy birthday. Here," Horace produced the small wrapped parcel from seemingly nowhere, and Will seemed to be genuinely surprised.

"Oh, Horace, thank you… But you didn't have to-" Will's reached tentatively to take the gift, but his words cut off suddenly and he froze as he caught the look on Horace face.

Oblivious, the knight asked, "What?" A bit too innocently.

Will squinted in a suspicious manner. "That look. I know that look," He said, peering at Horace's features keenly.

"Look? What look?"

"You see, that's what I mean." Will raised an eyebrow in a way he'd picked up from Halt.

"Honestly, Will, I have no idea what you're going on about."

The ranger merely squinted at him some more, and jerked the package from Horace's extended hand, his wary gaze never leaving Horace's face. He simply held the gift for a moment, casting glances between it and its giver.

"Well, go on, open it!" Horace smiled encouragingly.

Will sent one last look at his friend, then directed his attention towards the gift. He turned it over a few times, inspecting it closely before finding a seem in the paper wrapping from which to open it. After the wrapping was discarded, Will looked at it with a blank expression. After a few seconds of silence, he blinked and looked up at Horace over his brow darkly. "Really?" He asked.

Considering the dangerous look Will was giving him, Horace probably should have been frightened. However, he was having an incredibly hard time containing his laughter. He smiled at his friend and nodded. "Really." He said cheerily.

"I see." Will grated out, glancing at the offending gift carefully. "Well, please explain to me the psychology behind this." He turned the small cube in his hands gingerly.

Horace smiled. "Well, it's quite simple, really. A chocho," he motioned to the small mesh cage that Will held, then moved his hands upwards to indicate Will himself, "for the Chocho. What with the Nihon-Jan emissary coming in any day now, I thought you might want a little memento to signify your namesake for them." Horace grinned.

Will didn't even blink. He just continued to glare daggers at the taller man for several long moments, then, like an arrow from a bow, his eyebrow shot up in one of Will's Halt-inherited expressions.

"Oh, come on, Will!" Horace finally gave vent to a bark of laughter, "Take a joke! It's not that bad, is it?"

Will said nothing, but instead looked down at the cage once more, watching the innocent-looking blue butterfly flap its wings as it perched on its twig. "Horace," he asked calmly, "how long did it take you to find this thing?"

"Oh, you've no idea," Horace said, unsuspecting, "I had to search Cassie's garden for days just to find one."

"I see," Will eyed the insect thoughtfully.

Horace continued, "It's nearly impossible to find any this time of year, since they're all gone in the winter. I tell you, I spent a whole two hours just trying to catch it sitting still, and… Will, what are you doing?"

The ranger had gone over to the widow and opened it. "So what happens if I…" he opened the small cage and tapped it lightly. Horace lunged forward to stop him, but he was too late. The little butterfly happily floated away and out the window, far out of reach. Horace watched it with an unbelieving expression. Will seemed completely unalarmed.

"Nice gift, Horace. Thanks." He walked away.

Horace turned. "It was a joke, Will, you didn't have to do that."

Will took a thick cloth from the mantle and removed the coffee pot. "Coffee?" He offered.

Horace crossed his arms. "Sure, Chocho," he said.

Will glanced at him. "I resent that name."

"Why? The Nihon-Jan gave it to you as a title of great respect, you know."

"Easy for you to say, Kurokuma."

"Oh, come on, 'Chocho' isn't that bad. Besides," Horace sat down across from Will and looked at the now-empty wire cage, "It was at least a little funny, you have to admit."

Will sipped at his coffee. "Yes, well, it will be." He smiled into his mug.

Horace seemed confused, and just a tad alarmed by that knowing smile. "I beg your pardon?" He asked.

Will didn't look up at him. "Oh, it just gave me an idea, is all."

Horace looked genuinely concerned, now. "An idea for what?"

There was a tense silence. Will took a long swig of his coffee, and smiled surreptitiously. "A wedding present." He took his mug and stood to his feet.

"Although it might take a while to get my hands on it. Excuse me, Horace – oh, I mean Kurokuma – but I've a wedding gift to catch – er, get - for the soon-to-be Prince of Araluen." Will paused by the door to don his cloak, quiver, and knife belt. He grabbed his longbow and glanced at it. "I may need this." He said meaningfully.

He walked out of the room smiling, leaving Horace wondering what he was up to. In the back of his mind, the knight thought he knew what Will was doing, but he desperately wanted, no, needed his suspicious to be false. However, the longer he thought about it, the more he suspected that it was true. This is all my fault, Horace thought to himself. He blanched and swallowed. Cassandra is going to murder me.

"Will," he called urgently, springing to his feet, "You can't be serious!" He dashed out of the room and looked down the hall, where he could see Will's cloak swishing softly behind him. "Please tell me you're not serious," Horace jogged after the other man.

Will was far ahead of him, and turned to laugh at his friend before leaving the wing. "Thanks for the idea, Horace!"

The Prince, who felt decidedly un-Prince like in that moment, could only stand there staring at the spot where the ranger had been. "You're welcome." Horace whimpered with a horrified expression. He was doomed.

4 weeks later…

The wedding had gone off with hardly any problems. Aside from the confusion that arose in any state occasion so huge, with so many people from so many different countries and languages, the entire event was a huge success. The ceremony, decorations, food, accommodations, and all of the many speeches went by without too much trouble or hubbub.

Horace had found his ceremonial crown to be quite a bother, but other than that, he actually quite enjoyed himself, despite his propensity to abhor such huge amounts of attention. He'd been watching Will carefully throughout the event, expecting at every moment to see some ridiculous addition to the gift table lying to one side of the grand hall, but he was relieved to find nothing out of the ordinary with Will's name written all over it. As the night wore on, he'd begun to suspect that Will had given up on whatever hairbrained gift pursuit he'd cooked up, and since Horace and Cassandra eventually left the party without a certain ranger giving them a prank gift, Horace honestly thought that Will had forgotten about it.

Unfortunately, he was wrong.

The Princess and her new husband honeymooned in a southern fief of the country. Although Cassandra had expressed an interest in visiting a warmer country because of the cold winter, her father had insisted that their royal status might make them a target abroad, so they settled on a destination in their own country, but in the south to guarantee warmer weather. It happened that King Duncan kept up an older estate in a southern countryside, so plans were made for Cassandra and Horace to stay there. After a week of warm southern weather in the mansion, they spent another week visiting various baronies on their journey back to Castle Araluen.

Meanwhile, the castle staff of the capitol took their absence as a time to move all of Horace's belongings into the royal suites, and rearrange the living situation to accommodate their new Prince. As soon as they were done, Will approached King Duncan with an interesting proposition. In so doing, Will discovered that Duncan, although he was widely known as a level-headed, wise and very serious ruler, had a mischievous side to him that loved nothing more than a good prank. Really, the King would insist after the fact, he just couldn't resist the opportunity to prank his new and only son-in-law.

Horace was glad when they finally arrive back at the castle. The pomp and circumstance of the wedding would finally settle down now, after they'd gone about meeting and greeting nearly half of the barons in the kingdom. Cassandra assured him that royal life would bore him after a while, but Horace was positive that he would be happy when the need for 'exciting' diplomatic luncheons passed.

Presently, he was walking up to the royal suites with Cassandra. Duncan had just informed them that their chambers had been re-organized and re-arranged while they were away, and although both expected this, they were excited to see what the rooms looked like.

As they ascended the stairway, Horace's mind flitted back to the moment when the King had spoken with them. He'd mentioned that there were a few new pieces to the rooms that they might appreciate, and when he'd said it, he'd worn a strange, almost devious smile that Horace had never before seen on the king. For some reason, it seemed eerily familiar, and it stuck in Horace's mind. However, as they entered the suites, Horace was completely and totally unsuspecting – he'd forgotten about the encounter with Will over the gift, and had no idea that his best friend and his father-in-law were now in cahoots with each other to give Horace a belated wedding present.

But when Horace opened the door to what would now be his personal study, the chocho incident came flooding back, and all of the pieces fell into place.

Sprawled out on a linen cushion with a red bow around its neck, the small fluffy black bear cub looked up at him. "Rawwwll!" It bounded towards him and fell at his feet, pawing upwards at him in a way that seemed to Horace rather dog-like.

The tag around its neck caught Horace's attention, and he reached down to pluck it off the ribbon, careful to avoid the bear's claws. It read,

Congratulations, Horace!

A small kurokuma for the Kurokuma. So the Nihon-Jan will recognize you.
His mother was killed by hunters several weeks ago, and he has been in the care of one of the Corps' rangers ever since – he's grown quite tame. He loves blueberries and milk.
Unfortunately, this one can't just fly out a window. And remember, you brought this upon yourself.

Best wishes,
Will Treaty

P.S. King Duncan sends his regards and hopes you enjoy the belated wedding present.

Horace just stared at it for a moment, until a grawwwl brought his attention back to his new present, which was currently making a toy out of his boot laces. Drawn by the noise, Cassandra came into the room and gasped.

"What on earth?"

"A gift," Horace said, just as shocked as Cassandra sounded. He handed her the note, "from Will and your father."

Cassandra took the note with a frown, read it, then looked at the bear cub. Then, she reacted in a way that Horace would have never expected. She bent over, picked the cub up under his forlegs like a child, and held its fuzzy form to her face. "Oh, you poor thing," she cooed, "you don't have your mother." She petted its head, and it marwled at her in a pitiful way. "Oh, you're so cute! Just a fuzzy little kurokuma, aren't you?" She giggled at the Nihon-Jan word because of its association to Horace. She ruffled its fluffy ears with a smile, then looked over at her husband, who had been watching her with a dumbfounded expression. "What?"

Horace shook himself. "What are you doing?" He asked her incredulously, "we can't possibly keep it!"

She frowned at him. "Of course we can keep him. He can't go back to the forest, and besides, he was a gift. It's incredibly rude to turn down a gift, Horace – especially one from your best friend and your father-in-law."

Horace couldn't argue with her logic, but he still couldn't wrap his head around what she was suggesting. "Wait, I'm sorry," He said at length, "are you suggesting we keep it?"

"Of course," Cassandra petted the small bear, "What else would we do with him? Besides, he wouldn't hurt anyone," She said as the cub leaned limply against her, enjoying her attention. "No, you wouldn't, would you? Of course not," She begun cooing at it again, and Horace watched in disbelief as his wife walked out of the room, cradling their new pet as if it were some sort of child.

In his mind's eye, Horace could see Will and Duncan sitting in the King's office, both doubled over from laughter.

He wondered briefly why, oh why oh why his name had to have been Kurokuma.

But remember, the mental Will told him, it's a term of great respect.

Horace glanced down the hall, where Cassandra was still ogling over the bear.

Term of respect indeed.