| Halt's Ranger Apprentices | This is War | Volume 2 |

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Annabelle used to be a girl. She used to be Squirt. Now, she was something more, not just in her title, not just in her parentage. She was a a ranger apprentice, and she survived the Wargals, the bandits, the friend who has now become her foe. She had more than she had before, and not in riches, but the more luxurious thing in life. Friends.

It all sounded so easy, like it hadn't taken her over a year of fighting to get to this point. And now, as she felt the racing heartbeat of Beauty as she galloped alongside Gilan and his horse, she just hoped that it would not all slip through her fingers, hoped that she wouldn't lose the privilege of riding freely like this.
But, Annabelle had known going back was inevitable, as was the outcome, of her father's punishment, of what this would mean for her future, and her place as a ranger.
Apprentice or not, it was more than Annabelle had ever felt welcome to. Had ever felt like there wasn't the constant shudder of displacement sliding down her back and breathing down her neck.
And now, as both Gilan and Annabelle grew closer over every day they were constantly moving back toward her father at their base where war arrangements were being made.

The Plains of Uthal.
It was where her father was, Halt was, Gilan's father, all the men that we're going to fight the war against Morgarath, the man that had stood so close to her, had hurt her, and was now left furious at the bitter taste of her escape.
Annabelle had to remind herself every morning that it was okay, that she was safe. But the words seemed unheard in her dreams, where the Lord of Rain and Night's face still gazed upon her, with a stare that held her throat, held her in place, slowly suffocating... Slowly driving her to exhaustion until she is forced to close her eyes and welcome death reluctantly, and instead waking up to the reality. The reality that still held the breathing man that was capable of actually killing her.

The day the bandits attacked, the day Devon had chosen his side, had forced Annabelle to turn against him, to hit him with an arrow unconscious, was the day that Will was finally somebody that she could call hers and he could call her his. It was strange, and she had told him too.

"What do you keep looking at?" Will had caught her yet again looking up from the tripod of sticks she was making for the fire that evening, and gazing at him.
"The strangeness,"
"Strangeness?"
"Yes, other people call it happiness," A smile tugged on Will's lips at that, like an invisible hook had caught his lips, lifting them up goofily and uneven. "I'm not used to having everything alright." Annabelle had of course had many times in her life when things had been more than alright, but this was different and Will knew what she meant, even if she didn't know how to explain.
It was all that was needed for a joyous silence to settle between the two. It was likely they could read each other's minds. The strangeness was good, the strangeness was welcomed by Annabelle.

Although, not everything was alright, but Will didn't need to know about her dreams. She was a burden enough of being the heir of Araluen, some one who was at the top of Gilan's list of getting back safely to her father. And, that meant going ahead of Will and Horace to make sure she was in her father's firm hold.

No, she eventually thought, her sigh swallowed by the hoof beats of Blaze and Beauty, she would never tell anyone about her dreams, because dreams were all they were, not even inside her head could she admit that they were nightmares, nor something that could become a reality.

Annabelle suddenly became all to aware of the bobbing of her throat when she swallowed, a place that Morgarath had once stared at when she was constantly spending her time in darkness of befriending the man's broad sword.

She was glad to have her thoughts interrupted by Gilan's voice. "Annabelle," He says, like the single word was a puzzle that could never be solved. "You know I'm glad to see you, and you know I'm doing this because it's the right thing to do," he looks at her now, "Right?"

"The right thing to do was help in the war as best we can." She wanted to sound like she had some sort of maturity among her, but this was Gilan. "But, I understand that you're doing this the same reason I am doing as I'm told."

The question was about to bound from Gilan's lips, so she answered before he said them. "Because I love you, and my family by blood or not, and my Kingdom," A small smile tickles his lips, "But it doesn't make me agree anymore that what we're doing is wrong." The words quickly distinguish the smile, Annabelle almost feels bad, but she can't bring that emotion to surface, all that she felt was the burning sensation for the want of finding that construction.

There was a silence between the two, a whisper of tension was among them, but how Annabelle craved it after the moment went by and a moment later, a howl of a horn erupted behind them. She instantly knew what it meant, what that horn signaled, she had spent weeks listening to it when she was trapped in a cell.

It was a two-tone horn that said one haunting word, attack.

The last thing she heard was Gilan's shout to ride North, and then her heart was in her throat as she dug her heels as tight as she could, as she excelled her speed, as she heard the clash of steel, and suddenly she was nowhere in the forest but back with Morgarath, who swung his sword by the dirt next to her to scare her.

She didn't want to admit she was scared, but she was more than scared. Terrified didn't even cover the light and heavy feeling that flowed within her.

Light, because of how weak she felt against these Wargals, these monsters that killed her mother, the ones who worked for the man of such evil.

Heavy, because of how slow her body seemed to react, like it was too heavy to move, and it took all her energy to hold onto the reins, as Beauty did the work.

She felt so useless in that moment. This entire time she had been without help and only strangers and monsters, and men out to kill her, she had never hesitated to fight, never had anything to lose because it was all already taken away from her.

But, she had finally gotten everything back, and now the hope for not letting any of it slip through her fingers seemed impossible.

She hated herself, she hated the fact that she let herself have something to lose again.

The strangeness was no longer welcome, the strangeness left her system without a plea for a second guessing. She finally stopped, the ringing of steel against steel still exploding in her ear drums.

The Wargals were made up of four, and they were all against Gilan, the fire in her chest taht screamed at her to help made her pull the reins to the side to turn around, sense now running through her mind.

She can't let him fight them all off alone.

One was had it's throat cut by Gilan's sword when he looked up to see Annabelle, the plea dancing ferociously in his eyes.
"Run." The single word cut right through her.

She truly hated herself now, because she turned back around, and left, it all slipping right through her fingers.

A/N: yeah... So I do exist apparently, (:
Please don't hate me for how slow this is being updated, I'm trying to finish it, but I want to not disappoint you guys in the quality of writing because I'm putting most of my energy in my other book. I'm really sorry.

If you would like to see more of me though, you can visit my Instagram which is @perksofbeingfae and my YouTube @perks-of-being-fae they all are to do with books so it should be right up your alley (;