A/N: To all of you who have read this story already, this is just me editing and adding. I reread it and I just thought: Oh my goodness, I can't believe how awfully this was written. Sorry about that, but I wrote it first, and I think I've come quite a ways writing wise. Basically it's the same plotline, I'm just making it into more chapters and editing and adding extra details into it. In other words I was extremely bored and didn't feel like updating my other stories.

Disclaimer: Normally I put a lot of time and effort into my disclaimers but today I'm just gonna say it. I own the Protector of the small quartet. There it is. The truth. *Nose grows three inches longer*. I swear! Tamora Pierce doesn't own it! *Nose grows another six inches*. It's all mine! *Falls over from case of overly large nose*. For all of you who didn't catch the pinnochio reference there; I don't own the PPOS quartet. No matter what the leprechauns say.

Lord Wyldon of Cavall wasn't really the pranking sort, but when he woke up to find the annoying Nealan of Queenscove attached to his wrist he knew that it was time to get involved.

The morning had dawned bright and early. With a stretch and a yawn Wyldon rolled over contentedly. What he wasn't expecting to find was the idiot big mouth Queenscove next to him. The fact is, we are quite lucky that our dear Neal is not a pancake at this very moment, because of the 200 pounds of muscles that woke him up. Yes that's right, Neal's wakening call was slightly less pleasant then our lord Wyldon's in the case that he had what could have been a bull, lying on top of him. Wyldon heard a grunt coming from underneath him. Already his suspicions were flying and he pinned the unfortunate creature beneath him with reflexes of steel, in a very complex shang body hold.

"Geroff me!" the creature- who was extremely weak in Wyldon's opinion- yelled.

"Queenscove! Mithros, why are you in my bed!" Wyldon said, in a very Wyldon like way. Neal being a talkative idiot actually decided to reply.

"I was going to ask the same thing. Maybe we could sort this out if you would get you're huge- really scary- body off of me!" Wyldon glared at him but decided that just this once he would comply with Queenscove's wishes. Just this once, because it seemed like that would probably be the best thing to do in this situation. In an attempt to get off the bed Wyldon rolled off the edge. What he hadn't been counting on however was feeling a connection with Nealan. No not some spiritual, heart felt connection, but a literal connection. As in quite literally their wrists were joined together. Whoever did this had just sealed their deaths.

Wyldon picked himself off the floor, carefully of course because he didn't want to pull Neal off the bed and on top of him. Once the two of them were standing up they decided to get dressed. I'm not going to go into detail here but let's just say that it was very difficult and Neal has some newly acquired bruises.

"Who would do this? Most people are just too scared to even attempt to prank me," Wyldon muttered. Neal looked down sheepishly. He knew who did this, and why they did it. In all fairness Neal most definitely deserved this prank.

"Well it was probably Kel and Dom," Neal admitted still not telling the entire story. Wyldon looked confused.

"I guess you have to give them credit for guts. But why would they do this to me? What did I do?" Neal muttered something under his breath.

"What was that?" Lord Wyldon's suspicions were flaring up again. What did he do this time?

"Um. I kind of, maybe, sort of, put spiders in their bed the other night…" Wyldon sighed. Why did he have to get involved?

"You are an idiot, Queenscove. I didn't want to get involved in these prank wars you people have been doing but now I have no choice. Somebody is going to die." Neal visibly gulped. And with that they headed down to eat some breakfast and distribute some death glares.

The two of them walked into the dining hall with Queenscove tripping in an attempt to keep up with the brisk pace. Wyldon stopped suddenly to send a snickering Mindelan his trademark death glare but Neal tripped and dragged him down in a very much undignified manner. The snickers escalated for a moment until Wyldon looked up and scowled at everyone in general. Fear tends to make people shut up as a general rule. Wyldon learned that at a very young age.

Neal attempted to skip the vegetables for the morning because Kel wasn't there to make him eat. But unfortunately Wyldon was just as big on eating healthy as Kel was so Neal ended up with double the amount of veggies on his plate. As of now Neal was sulking.

"Can we go sit over-" Neal tried to say after they had gone through the line.

"No." And with that he was dragged over to the table with the officials. He turned and saw Kel at another table snickering with Dom. The two of them were so smitten with each other. She looked up to see Neal giving her a knowing look. She blushed and glared at him. Seemingly she took pity however and looked away.

Wyldon wasn't stupid. Even amongst the chatter of various officials and such, Wyldon had seen that moment. He knew what was going on between Kel and Dom even if they didn't know it themselves. Ah young love. How Wyldon missed such moments in his youth. So instead since he was unable to to achieve such moments of bliss he took it upon himself to squish it in the bud.

After breakfast Neal was dragged, once again, to the healers room. Duke Baird took one look at the two and laughed.

"Neal I warned you about that last one. Kel and Dom don't except defeat easily. I would think that you of all people would recognize that." Baird said. Neal rolled his eyes when his father chuckled at the situation his son had found himself in.

"Dad, come on. Just fix this." Neal pleaded. Baird did of course but he was still laughing.

"I'm sorry, My lord, that my son got you involved with all of this." Wyldon just sighed. He Should be used to this by now.

Finally Wyldon and Neal left their separate ways. Neither of them were very happy of course and they both had strange purple marks around their wrists from whatever the heck it was that the duke had used to un-stick them.

Before they departed Wyldon gave a final warning.

"Nealan, I swear that if you ever get me involved with one of these pranks again I will stick you on latrine duty for the rest of your sorry life," he barked. Then a mischievous glint came to his eyes, that hadn't been seen since his early teen years.

"I do however have a plan. We can get them back quite easily and I know just the way to do it." Neal grinned in anticipation.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked. Wyldon smirked.

"Well they like each other, right?"

"Really, how did you guess?" Neal said sarcastically. Wyldon didn't appreciate sarcasm however and so thwacked him upside the head. For the umpteenth time.

"Shut you're mouth."

"But technically you asked me a question," the ever annoying Neal said tauntingly. Neal took great pleasure in pushing people to the edge. Of course with Wyldon, when he pushed him to the edge, He would be pounded into a bloody pulp and then thrown over that proverbial edge. Actually, Knowing Wyldon, he would probably find a very literal edge to throw him off of. It is quite a mystery as to why he continues to push Wyldon to the edge.

" It's Rhetorical question. You really are a meathead aren't you?" Neal gaped.

"Not you too! Any ways please continue with your plan.

"Right anyways here is how it goes." Wyldon leaned over and whispered in his ear. A grin slowly appeared on Neal's face.

"I liked it! This is going to be fun." The two of them had an identical grin on their face, and anybody who had of been walking by at the time would have found it very strange to see Lord Wyldon smiling.

"Meet me at 10 O'clock tonight and we can get our revenge." Wyldon said. And with that the two left. You could practically see the gears turning in their heads

You could practically hear the maniacal laughter eminating from their presence.

How was it this time? I plan on getting up the rest of the story asap. In the mean time, please review!