Ranger's Apprentice One Shots

Don't Hit The Orphan Boy!

"Here, Alyss! Catch it!"

Baron Arald tossed the ball at little Alyss, who caught it gracefully.

"Good job! Now throw it back!" Arald encouraged her, waving his hands towards him.

She did; the ball fell a little flat, about two feet before Arald.

The five children, children of the ward, were playing outside, having a special time with the Baron. Well, special for the Baron. Arald always wanted to interact with the children, but as to be expected, the children were highly intimidated of him. But nevertheless, here they were, playing with the Baron.

Jenny was playing in the corner in the small sandbox, creating "sand pies". It was one of her favorite things to do in the sand box. Aways the "pie" making.

George was quietly reading a book in the corner. No one was able to get him to play ball, like the other boys. And he certainly didn't want to play in the sand box with Jenny because "his trousers would become all dirty and hard to clean", as he said to the Baron. So the Baron let him read.

Horace, Alyss, and Will were with the Baron, playing catch. Horace was there to impress the Baron – he never would let up a chance to. Alyss was there to give the baron some grace – he wanted so badly to play with the children. And Will was there because Horace had bullied him to play catch like "a real boy would." Horace had taunted Will that doing anything but catch would make him like "a girl". So Will gave in.

"All right, Horace! Your turn!" The Baron threw the ball in the air and Horace caught it easily. Before throwing it back, he gave Will a small sneer. Will be swallowed.

"It's coming to you, Will!" Arald paused, making sure Will was ready. Will just stood there, extremely nervous to miss the ball. Horace was the cause of the nerves, he knew.

"Will, put your hands up, so you can catch the ball!" Arald encouraged me.

Will put his hands up, but they were palm out, directly in front of him...not exactly a "catching" position. But Arald threw the ball anyway, hoping that Will would figure out how to catch it. Arald threw the ball lightly, and the ball flew directly in between Will's hands...smacking Will directly square in the face.

Will tumbled back, landing flat on his back. The ball bounced somewhere, Will didn't care.

"Will!" Arald cried.

Feebly, Will raised a hand from his position and said, "I'm – alright," weakly.

Horace laughed loudly at him, pointing a finger at him and jeering, "did you see that! Can't even catch the ball! What a loser!"

"Horace!" Arald chastened him, "Will, are you sure you're fine?"

Will pushed himself up, still slightly dizzy and swaying.

"Will, the ball wasn't even that fast," Arald murmured.

"I'm little though, sir," Will reasoned. "The ball will hit me harder than the others."

"Ha! You're right about that! You small....critter!" Horace called.

Will turned to him, half angered, half amused. "Small...critter?"

Horace didn't blush, he was too proud for that. "Yeah, that's right, wimp!"

Will just raised his brows.

"Alright, Will, throw it back," Arald said.

Will got ready. He raised his hand and threw the ball...or attempted to. He released the ball just before the ball was supposed to be. It resulted in falling behind him.

"Good...try, Will. Good..." Arald tried to help. Horace laughed again.

"Shut it, Horace." Will sneered.

He tilted to throw the ball one more time, this time succeeding.

Quietly from the bushes, the hidden man sat, watching the boys. His eyes didn't miss anything.

"That's my boy, Will," Halt said quietly.