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When Ferris asks Will to bring him up a carafe of coffee, Will isn’t sure if he’s allowed to say no.
Halt’s decided to leave him unbound, keeping him sequestered away in the room by threat rather than the use of rope. The king – false king, since Halt is the true heir, which Will still has trouble wrapping his mind around – is miffed about the whole situation, but too cowardly to do anything about it.
Will can barely stand to look at him as he hands him the drink. It’s only the two of them in the room, but Will finds Ferris… incredibly disconcerting. His face, of course, looks identical to Halt’s, but the similarities are only surface level. His skin is less weathered, and there are no worry lines between his brows, and no crow’s feet by his eyes. Will wonders what kind of life he’s led where he’s managed to have few troubles and few joys. Halt is somber, often grumpy, and difficult to read at times, but he’s never looked like this – a shell of a man. Will feels both pity and disgust for Ferris.
“Thank you, boy,” Ferris says, trying to sound offhand but failing as his eyes squint up at Will, analyzing. The ‘boy’ is disconcerting coming from Ferris’ mouth. Will never realized until now that even when Halt called him that in the earliest days of his apprenticeship, it was infused with a certain warmth. When Ferris says it, it makes Will feel like dirt under someone’s boots.
“You’re welcome,” he says back, flatly, turning on his heel to leave. He doesn’t respect Ferris, and definitely doesn’t want to stay in the same room with him any longer than he has to.
“Wait,” the man says, sounding deeply suspicious. He rises from where he was sitting at the small table and comes around it, coming to stand in front of Will with all the airs of someone who thinks he’s supposed to be important but is deeply unsure if other people see him that way. Will stares at him dispassionately.
“Can I help you?”
“I need for you to tell me some things.”
Will almost opens his mouth to accept, because it’s so like Halt’s voice, so like Halt’s face, and everything in Will trusts Halt implicitly. But he keeps his jaw ironed shut, because this isn’t Halt and he owes this man nothing.
“Unless it is related to your role in the plan we intend to enact, I’m not interested in telling you anything,” Will says, and watches with a strange fascination as Ferris’ eyes flash – maybe in the same cadence as Halt’s do, but Will’s never seen such vitriol in Halt’s eyes directed towards him.
The king bares his teeth and reaches out as if he’s going to grab Will harshly by the shoulder, and he’s slow, by Ranger standards, but Will’s instincts are dulled – something in him still sees too much of Halt in Ferris’ face, and can’t categorize him as a threat. Halt would never hurt Will. Ferris, obviously, has no reservations about harming Will, and his hand connects with Will’s collarbone, nails digging into the skin at the base of his neck. Will starts and begins to yank away, but a shadow suddenly falls across the room.
“Let go of him.”
Will turns his head to see Halt standing in the doorway, appearing calm to the untrained eye. But his voice is dark and cold like steel and Will can see the tension and seriousness in his face.
“Let go of him,” Halt says again, sounding eerily serene, like the stillness of the air before a truly terrible storm. “Or I will cut your hand off. You know I will, brother. Don’t test me.”
Will watches as Ferris breaks eye contact with Halt skittishly and steals his hand back as if burnt. For a moment, Will remains looking at the king, disturbed.
“If you ever lay a hand on my apprentice again, I promise you will regret it,” Halt says softly, a warning despite the low tone. “Come on, Will.”
Will steps aside Ferris and leaves him standing in the middle of the room. Halt closes the door behind Will as he leaves and the two of them walk in silence, quickly, until they reach the stairwell and Halt seems to decide they’re far enough away from Ferris’ listening ears.
“Are you alright?” The question is sharp, faintly exasperated, and accompanied by Halt’s hands on his shoulders as he examines the indents left by Ferris’ nails. Satisfied that the marks are superficial, Halt lets his hands fall from Will’s shoulders and takes a step back.
“Will,” he says, frustrated and relieved. “What the hell were you doing in there?” Will blinks.
“He asked for coffee,” he shrugs.
“Do you think he deserves coffee?” Halt asks incredulously.
“Well, no, obviously not, but if we’re not going to tie him up I don’t think we should give him any reason to leave the room.”
“We’ll tie him up, then,” Halt says. “But don’t go in there alone again.”
“I don’t want you to have to restrain him, Halt, he’s your – “
“He,” Halt cuts in, expression grave, reaching up to hold the sides of Will’s head. “Is a dangerous man. Especially dangerous, I have reason to believe, to you. Stay away from him, Will.”
“Halt,” Will starts, after a beat of surprise. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to about your life here. But if you think he’s dangerous, I need to know why so I can help keep us safe. You’ve never left me in the dark, not even when I was an apprentice. Don’t start now.”
Halt tilts his head back, looking at Will thoughtfully, a hint of a smile on his face. He releases Will’s head gently and turns to lean his back against the wall.
“You’re right,” he says, crossing his arms. “Alright. Well. I know if Ferris believes his throne is in danger, he’ll be willing to do a lot to keep it. I’ve seen that before.”
“So really, I should be telling you to not be alone in the same room as him.”
“You’ll notice that I’ve been avoiding that, actually,” Halt says wryly. Will smiles and shrugs.
“Sure. A reminder never hurts, though. And that still doesn’t explain why I should be avoiding him,” Will replies, nudging Halt lightly. Halt’s face is shadowed, and he seems strangely hesitant.
“It… wouldn’t be a stretch to see you as competition for the throne as well,” Halt says slowly. Will frowns, confused.
“Why? I’m not even from here, and I have no blood claim either, not like Sean.”
“Not a blood claim, no,” Halt says, voice oddly strained, yet still steady and sure. “But a familial claim, nonetheless. A direct line to the heir.”
Will stares at Halt blankly until Halt’s eyes turn disbelieving and amused.
“Will – “ But just as Halt says his name, it clicks in Will’s mind and he inhales sharply, making himself cough. He has to hunch over with the force of it, and Halt pats his back as the coughing fit slows.
“…Really?” he whispers, a little hoarse from both the coughing and emotion. He straightens up to look at Halt, and Halt’s hand stays on his shoulder. He squeezes Will’s shoulder gently, the shape of his hand laying warm and kind right over the imprint where Ferris’ hand gripped maliciously only minutes ago.
“Yes,” Halt says, honest and open, and Will has to dart forward to wrap his arms around him. He presses his nose down onto Halt’s shoulder bone and feels one of Halt’s hands come up to hold the back of his head, the other wrapping around his shoulders. Will’s eyes are growing watery and he sniffs, just once, and presses himself even closer when Halt strokes his hair comfortingly.
“I’m sorry it’s put you in danger,” Halt murmurs, and Will shakes his head fiercely, still careful not to dislodge Halt’s hand in his hair.
“It’s fine,” he rasps out, and swallows the lump of emotion in his throat. “I wouldn’t trade it. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” He feels Halt snort a little huff of a laugh and turn his head slightly to press a brief kiss to the side of Will’s head.
“And don’t go around thinking you’re a prince, now,” Halt says, voice rough. “You and I are only Rangers, not royalty.”
“There’s no ‘only’ about it,” Will says, pulling back just a little to look Halt in the face, grinning. “I’ve chosen to be a Ranger a hundred times over now, Halt. I’m proud.” And he sees the same pride he feels reflected clear as day in Halt’s eyes.
“As you should be.”