Ranger's Apprentice One Shots

Hope In Odd Places

A/N: Hi, sorry, this is super unclear, and I totally blame myself. I'm now going back to the story where Will was captured and doesn't remember how he got there. This is part three. 

Also, it doesn't matter a huge amount, but I went back and changed the last part a bit. Liam (they guy who is assigned to Will) does not know English very well. So I changed his dialect. But no need to go back if you don't want. Plot-wise, nothing changed. 

I tried to make the English somewhat clear in these parts, but keep in mind that Will doesn't know what they're saying, so neither should you, really. But still, if you are confused, feel free (and please do) give me a little comment and I'll try to either fix it ro keep it in mind for next time. 

I'm so sorry for all the confusion here, and disorganization. I'm trying to do better! 

Enjoy this next piece! I did. 

A day passed. Two. Five. Eight. The sun rotated on its curve, and the stars danced their routine. With each day that passed, a part of Will seemed to fall away. First, motivation to fight back. Then, planning an escape. Then, hope. Where in Gorlog's teeth was Halt? Where in the world was Will? He assumed at this point that they had left the country, maybe even overseas. That could be the only explanation for why Halt hadn't stormed the camp. Will felt ashamed to be relying so much on his mentor, but he couldn't do anything. Stripped of all weapons, even the hidden knife in his boot, Will had racked his brains for anyway to get out of his predicament. He'd tried insulting his way out of his bonds, though that only resulted in painful hits. He'd tried flexing his wrists, maybe the ropes would loosen. He'd tried bribing, flattering, attempting to fight.

But his captors either laughed in his face, or walked away from him, which usually resulted in his food being taken away, too. So, Will shut up.

There seemed to be roughly fifteen people in camp, altogether. Every so often, someone would come by and loosen Will's bonds, but then not two minutes later tighten them again. The pain of blood regaining circulation pained more than he thought. Each time, he gasped, in spite of his promised silence, as the blood felt like ice, cutting its way down his veins.

The camp wasn't scared to yell out insults to him, either. Several times, he got colorful words and phrases shot at him in a different tongue. He hadn't heard the language before, but it was guttural, and seemed to pronounce the vowels more often than not. When the men felt insults weren't enough, they'd come at him and kick him in the abs or legs, each time frowning as Will barely made a sound.

Along with his abuse, Will was quick to notice Liam wasn't a favorite either. The men treated him like dirt, spitting if he didn't do a task fast enough, and biting words at him. Liam didn't exactly hide from them, and fought back quite a lot, but it usually ended up with him gasping for air.

Routinely, Liam would grudgingly take food to Will, feeding it to him as though Will were a child, and holding the spoon up to his mouth and feeding it to him like that. And every time Will ate like this, his bound hand behind him clenched, and he eagerly awaited the moment he would snap them off and land a solid punch in the man's temple.

Truth was, he was frustrated. Angry at his predicament. Hated everyone to the core, and hated himself even more. With his loss of memory of what happened, he had no idea if he even put up a fight, all the time back in the woods with Horace. He bit down on his lip to restrain from cursing so much, he was sure he had a permanent indent now. He'd drawn blood, in anger, unable to do anything but sit, tied to a tree, and sulk with his negative thoughts. He couldn't do anything but pray that Horace had reached Halt, if Horace was even free with Halt. He didn't know where his best friend was, for God's sake!