Ranger's Apprentice: Tales Untold

Forgive me

Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I've been a bit busy. But this is an idea I've seen popping around multiple places. Basically, Halt and Horace find Will and Evanlyn while Will is still on warm weed. Anyways, happy late Christmas, holidays, and New Year's Eve!

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"HALT?" A LOW MOAN HAD echoed around the snowy mountain, slowly turning into a drawn-out, miserable cry. Halt pulled Abelard to a stop, signaling for Horace to do the same.

"Halt, what is that?" Horace whispered as the cries continued. Halt shook his head and dismounted, his hand resting on his saxe knife.

"I don't know. Follow me." The whimpers grew louder as they approached, and Halt ground his teeth with each of Horace's squeaking and stumbling steps.

"Could you at least try to be quiet?" he asked peevishly. Horace sighed.

"Sorry, Halt." The attempt was no less quieter, but Halt decided to just suffer it.

The cries were straight ahead, and Halt stopped, holding an arm in front of Horace to keep the young knight from moving further. Two silhouettes were visible; one rolling and thrashing in the snow, and the other speaking, trying to calm the first down.

"Will, please. Please don't make me give it to you! It's alright, Will, it's alright!" There was no other response but whimpers and cries.

A cold hand clutched Halt's heart as the name echoed through his head. He watched numbly as the girl—he assumed from the voice—turned towards a pack pony he hadn't seen. The rustling of objects, the small crinkling of a package, and then she withdrew, carrying something in her hand.

When she reached the boy, he grabbed at whatever was in her hand and shoved it in his mouth. The trembling in his body began to recede, and he rocked back and forth on the path, indecipherable uttering escaping his mouth.

Halt could remain still no longer. He barged forward, heedless of Horace beside him. "Will!"

The girl stepped back in fright, and then her eyes widened as she saw the figure behind him. "Horace?"

Halt ignored the two and headed straight for Will, grabbing him back the shoulders. "Will? Will, can you hear me?"

"He can't." The girl–the Princess, Halt realized–had approached him, along with Horace. "He's on warmweed."

"What?" Halt turned to Cassandra; a defeated light was in her eyes.

"He...he was a yard slave. They put him on warmweed, and he's been this way ever since. Erak helped us escape, and he gave me a supply of warmweed to help wean him off."

"He...warmweed?" Halt whispered. The girl nodded, while Horace stared at Will in horror.

Halt looked back at his apprentice, closing his eyes. He'd heard of warmweed, of it's mind-numbing and erasing effects. He'd also heard of how few managed to recover from the drug.

He opened his eyes again and stared at the rocking, desolate form of his apprentice. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, taking the boy and wrapping his arms around him. "Forgive me, Will."

There was no reply to the words. Will was lost in his own, drug-induced world.