Blood, Sweat, and Hanon - A Ranger's Apprentice fanfiction

Chapter Eleven - Will

Will leaves his first lesson feeling the best he's felt all day - which, considering how his day started, might not mean much, but that feels much further behind him now. He has two hours of private practice next, and he's eager to work on his assignments from his lesson. Halt had him play nearly half an hour of Hanon, which was incredibly boring at first, but Will was surprised how quickly and evenly his fingers and wrists warmed up. Plus, Halt showed him how to drop all of his arm and upper body weight into the keys to get a loud, clear sound from the piano. Before, Will was pushing, and his sound was almost cramped.

Gilan's waiting in the hallway outside Halt's office. Will deflates instantly and starts looking for an escape route.

"Will? We have to talk," Gilan says. He's leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and his backpack on the floor by his feet.

"Gilan? I'm ready for you," Halt says from behind Will, cutting the older boy off.

Will sighs in relief and hurries off down the hall. He knows he'll have to face his friends eventually, but he'll put it off as long as he's able. He heads toward the practice rooms, glancing at Halt's messy writing on the sticky note in his hand. One of the perks of being Halt's student is that he gets his own personal grand piano practice room. After misreading the room number on Halt's note twice, he finally finds the room in a little alcove almost past the rest of the practice rooms. He swipes the key card and opens the door, flicking on the light.

It's not much, he thinks. The room is small and cramped, with a mirror on the wall opposite the piano. The soundproof walls are covered with worn dark felt. Most of the room is taken up by a brown baby grand piano, its surface worn from years of use.

Will feels a sense of awe anyways. He's never had a grand piano to practice on before. He's had uprights, if he was lucky, and more often electronic pianos. He sits down on the padded bench, screwing the handles at the sides to raise it to its highest position, and opens the fallboard of the piano. Where the brand name is usually displayed is a simple three-letter word, "Tug."

Will makes a mental note to ask Halt about that later. He figures there's a story behind that. He raises his finger to the worn keys and plays a quick scale. He closes his eyes in delight. The sound is clear and light, and the touch is velvet-smooth. This piano is gorgeous.

He plays through a few Hanons, and then pulls out the sheet music Halt gave him. He's under orders to learn and memorize this Chopin etude in time for the weekly piano performance class on Thursday evening.

Two hours later, Will stumbles out into the sunlight, blinking like an owl. The two hours had flown past. Will's gotten all the notes for the etude - he can now play it at a performance tempo with the music. Now he just has to memorize it. Which will be no small task, he realizes. He's sure Halt will have some pointers for him at his supervised practice session in an hour. Right now, Will needs to eat. He's starving after having missed lunch.

Thankfully, the dining hall is still open, although they're not serving hot food. Will grabs a sandwich, an apple, and a bag of chips and bolts them down quickly.

His supervised practice session goes well. Halt quickly explains that Will's on his own, even though Halt's present, and Will can ask any questions if he needs help. Will gets the first half of the etude memorized while Halt works at his desk, going through reports.

When there's only ten minutes left in the practice hour, Halt stops him. "Have you given any thought to the Junior International competition?" he asks.

Will shrugs. "I don't know," he says. "I never really considered it - I guess I thought I wasn't at a high enough level to be a competitor."

"I want you to try it," Halt says. "Have you done any of the Bach preludes and fugues yet?"

"No," Will said. "I was about to before I changed teachers last year."

"All right," Halt says. "Look at the D major Prelude and Fugue from the second book of the Well Tempered Clavier. That one will be a little hard for your first one - it's a four-part fugue, after all - but it's a good competition one."

Will nods. "Okay," he says. "What else do I need for the competition?"

Halt scans a piece of paper on his desk. "You'll need a concerto movement," he says.

"I learned the Kabalevsky 3rd a few years ago," Will says. "But that's the youth concerto, and I'll probably need something harder."

Halt thinks for a moment. "Listen to the Prokofiev 1st," he says. "Stylistically, it's similar to the Kabalevsky, but it's more technical."

"Oh, I know that piece!" Will says. "It's one of my favorites."

"Good," Halt says. "Learn it. And then there's a free-choice piece." He looks Will straight in the eyes. "I want you to learn the Balakirev Islamey."

Will splutters. "The Islamey? Me?"

"The Islamey. You," Halt says steadily. "Yes, it will be a huge challenge for you. Yes, you'll probably hate me for the rest of the school year. But I think it will give you a huge advantage in the competition - if you can pull it off." He gives Will a hard look. "Get the music and start it right away."

Will can't see a polite way out of it. "Yes, sir," he says helplessly.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," Halt says. "You know what to do."

Will gathers up his sheet music and turns to leave, but remembers his question from earlier. "Halt? Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," his teacher says.

His reply throws Will off guard. "Well, I guess I did," he stammers. "Can I ask you another one?" 

He sees Halt open his mouth to start the whole cycle over again, and forestalls him.

"Why does the piano in my practice room say Tug?"

Halt seems a little miffed that Will intercepted his sarcastic reply. "Because that's his name," he says shortly.

"The piano has a name," Will repeats incredulously.

"That's what I said," Halt says impatiently. 

This revelation accompanies Will all the way down the hallway, and he's too distracted to notice George, Gilan, Alyss, and Jenny waiting at the corner.

"Will?" Alyss says, stepping forward and grabbing his arm. "We really, really need to talk to you."