Several weeks had come and gone.

Inglor and Haleth had finally left the Cold Waste behind. They traveled quickly down River Lhun, then east, beyond Annuminas and on towards Fornost.

The journey was one of the most enjoyable that Haleth had ever taken through the wilderness. They met nothing but the wind and the stars and the occasional small animal. No one was chasing them and there were no wandering orcs or trolls intent upon murder.

To pass the time, Inglor had begun to teach Haleth Quenya, the language of the High Elves. To his immense surprise and delight, she already spoke a smattering of it, albeit in a stilted, highly accented manner.

They ate the fish they caught from the rivers, talked softly around the campfire and slept under the stars.

After a great deal of gentle persuasion, Inglor managed to convince Haleth to sing with him. She followed his lead as best she could, although she sounded like a crow accompanying a lark. The incident with the bug balm and the mice was not mentioned again. Neither was the gambling near-fiasco. For the first time in years, Haleth felt something close to light-hearted.

There was only one evening where the mood was tense. Inglor asked Haleth why he had awakened to find her curled against him that night in the Cold Waste.

Haleth, arms crossed and face blazing, had informed him that she had been excessively cold, that she was sorry if she had disturbed his sleep, that she would never let it happen again and that she did not want to speak of it again. Ever.

Inglor had calmly watched Haleth deliver her well-rehearsed speech and had immediately changed the subject.

Haleth felt a twinge of regret when the ruins of Fornost finally came into view. The shattered towers of the capital of the old kingdom of Arthedain loomed above the city’s crumbling walls. It would take many generations to repair and rebuild the damage of the centuries.

"What if there's no one here?" she asked Inglor as they approached the time-ravaged ruin.

”The Dunedain of the North have always had someone in the area," he answered. "Even in the days of the War of the Ring. What is it?"

Haleth's footsteps had been getting progressively slower until she stopped a few feet from the wreckage of the gate.

"You don't really need me to do this," she said slowly. "Why don't I just wait out here?"

"I'd rather we stayed together," he said, a slight frown creasing his brow.

"Oh, Inglor," Haleth forced a fake smile onto her face, hoping it would fool the elf. "There's no one for miles and miles. What could possibly happen?"

"That's what you said outside the palace in Dorwinion," he said.

Haleth's mouth worked silently.

"What I said?" she finally asked, one eyebrow arched upwards.

"That was truly a mess," he went on.

"Excuse me," she said sweetly, "But it wasn't me who wanted to examine the flowers under the moonlight."

"Why do you avoid the places of the Dunedain?" he asked.

Haleth stared at him, shocked by the directness of the question. Then she looked to the west.

"Because," she replied moodily.

"Because," he echoed, clearly wanting more of an explanation.

Whatever Haleth was going to say next was interrupted by a cry of welcome from the city.

"Mae govannen!" a tall, lanky figure cried in welcome and raced from the debris of Fornost. Inglor waved and started towards him. Haleth froze stubbornly to the spot. Inglor placed his hand on her forearm and, without any visible effort, dragged her forward with him.

The Ranger was tall, dark-haired and green-eyed. His face shone with delight. He looked at Inglor with something approaching awe, blinking several times and coughing.

"Mae govannen," Inglor replied. "We have something that must be sent to the King. Are there any here who can take it?"

"Alas, no," the Ranger said, crestfallen. "There is no one here but me. And I have been ordered to wait until my brethren can return from the south."

Haleth reflected that it had been almost four years since Aragorn had claimed the throne of Gondor. It sounded as though this particular Ranger had never left the North and she wondered why. He seemed to be rather anxious compared to the other Rangers she had met. They tended to be dour, serious men seldom given to conversation or ever deliberately seeking out company.

Inglor considered his response.

"Then we shall have to take it to him ourselves," he finally said. They both turned to go, Haleth moving with considerable speed.

"Wait!" the Ranger said, running to catch up with them. He stepped in front of them, blocking their path and then seemed at a lost as to what to say next.  Haleth unconsciously shifted closer to Inglor.

"You could at least stay here the night," he finally suggested. "The day is half over and you look as though you have come a fair distance." He was looking pointedly at Haleth's worn boots as he spoke.

"You could give me news of the outside world," he said. "And I would be glad of the company. It has been a long time since I have spoken to anyone." He sounded as forlorn as an abandoned child.

"Thank-you for the offer, but it is a long way," Haleth began. The Ranger made her nervous and she wanted nothing further to do with him.

"Certainly we will stay," Inglor grandly swept aside her hedging.

"Good!" the Ranger's face beamed with pure joy. "Follow me!"

They followed, Haleth dragging her feet with great reluctance.

"My name is Barmik," he said. His back was to them so he did not catch Haleth's raised eyebrows.

"I stay on the other side of the ruins; just where Halbarad told me to stay. It's faster to get there if we go through the old city." He led them along, chattering like a jackdaw the entire time. Inglor glanced at the ruins with true regret.

Haleth stumbled after them both, her eyes cast downwards. Empty, gaping windows stared at her accusingly. The wind writhed and whispered through the shattered stonework. Faint echoes of hopeless screams of terror seeped through the streams of time.  

"It's only the wind. It is not real. It's only the wind. It is not real." Haleth chanted to herself.

She looked up. Inglor and Rik had disappeared.

The whisperings grew louder, words almost discernable in the growing clamour. Familiar phantoms screamed in fear and pointed their bony fingers at her in blame. Haleth's heart hammered in her chest as she searched up and down the street for deliverance.

Inglor suddenly appeared from a cross-street. He looked at her in a calm, questioning manner. His expression quickly became unreadable when he noted the terror engraved upon her ashen face.

Wordlessly, he held out his hand.

Despising her own weakness, Haleth raced to him as a lost child runs to a parent. She grasped his hand as though her life depended on it.

He searched her eyes quickly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered soberly.

"Just get me out of here," she hissed.

Rik, still talking, came back around the corner.

"Oh, there you are," he said. "I thought I'd lost you there for a minute. It's this way."

He led them through the broken streets of Fornost and finally out the north gate.

"Well, this is it," the Ranger said when they reached his home.

Rik had situated himself in one of the abandoned farmhouses to the north of Fornost. He had done his best to make himself comfortable, repairing the stone walls of the fifteen centuries old house as best he could. The construction was relatively sturdy.

He seemed to have had a more difficult time fixing the roof, which Haleth should have been thatched. Long strands of straw hung down from the ceiling. Patches of blue sky showed through the yellowed hay. A fireplace, a low table, a small chest and a pallet of straw were the only furnishings.

"Just sit there," he indicating the crate. He stopped, embarrassed. There was only room for one to be seated.

Inglor propelled Haleth to the box and indicated that she should sit down.

"I'll get us some food, shall I?" Rik puttered about the room, keeping up a steady stream of one-sided conversation.

"Have you ever seen King Elesssar?" he asked. "I haven't. Not yet. Well, of course I haven't, being here and on duty and all. But I will. One day he'll come and he'll find me still here, faithfully doing my duty."

Inglor pushed on Haleth's shoulders. The woman remained stubbornly upright. He could not push any harder without damaging her. He had never seen her in her current mood. Her blank stare and ashen pallour were beginning to worry him. She might recover somewhat if she would only sit down.

"Not that there's that much to do," Rik continued, oblivious of the mute struggle in the room. "But I'm not complaining. Just because I've been up here for four years without another person to talk to."

Inglor, acting on inspiration, kicked Haleth's knees out from behind her. She landed on the trunk with a dull thud and no protest whatsoever. Her complete lack of response shook him badly.

Rik suddenly became aware of them.

"Is she supposed to be that colour?" he asked Inglor, taking in Haleth's pale complexion.

"It will pass," the elf answered, hoping that he was correct.

"Oh. Very well. Now, I don't have any grand food fit for kings, not that it's likely that the king will be up this way soon, but I do have what the land will give."

Haleth stared at a wall, Inglor watched Haleth and Rik talked to himself. A passing sparrow, intent on stealing some straw for his nest, perched on the roof and peered inside. He quickly decided that there were three lunatics in the farmhouse and, fearing it was contagious, went to search for nest material elsewhere.

Haleth slowly recovered from the incident in the city. She had already learned to tune out Rik's monologue to an annoying buzz. She suddenly pulled something from the torrent of words.

"I know it's somewhat rude to ask," Rik said, "But it's odd seeing an elf and a woman up here. Well, it's odd seeing anyone up here. Are you...?"

"Partners," she blurted out. "We're partners. Aren't we, Inglor?"

She gave the elf a significant look.

Inglor appeared to consider this for a moment.

"I suppose," he finally said.

Rik looked crestfallen for half a minute.

"I thought as much," he said. "It isn't proper for a man...I mean an elf and a woman to be wandering around in the wilderness together without some sort of legal arrangement."

"It's not exactly legal," Inglor began.

"Not yet, at any rate," Haleth interrupted him. "But we'll take care of that as soon as we can. My parents didn't approve, you understand."

"Ah!" Rik said. "Forbidden love! I know how it can be. I knew a girl once..."

Haleth painted on her best interested expression. She glanced at Inglor. The elf was as puzzled as she had ever seen him. At least he seemed willing to play along with her. He was going to demand some heavy explanations later, though. Haleth groaned inwardly as Rik served them supper.

"Let's play a game!" Rik interrupted his regularly scheduled monologue to include his visitors.

"What sort of game?" Haleth fought to keep the suspicion out of her voice.

"A word game," Rik said with enthusiasm.

"I don't seem to do well with human games," Inglor said.

"As long as there's no betting," Haleth glared at the elf.

"Oh, no," Rik bubbled on, "It's just a word game. We'll play one round and, if you like it, we can play again."

"How do you play?" Haleth asked, against her better judgment.

"You," he pointed to Haleth, "pick a word."

"Forest," said Haleth.

"No, no," Rik held up his hands. "You don't tell me. It's a secret word. You tell him." he nodded towards Inglor.

"How can it be a secret if I know it?" Inglor asked.

"It's how the game it played," Rik replied, slightly irritated. "You have to get me to say the word without telling me what the word is."

Inglor and Haleth wore matching expressions of bafflement.

"Very well," said Rik, "We'll just play one round so you can see how it's supposed to go. I'll just go outside and you can tell him the word." He disappeared out of the door.

"I think we shouldn't wait here," Haleth whispered to Inglor, quickly readying the briefest possible explanation for her decision.

"I agree," Inglor whispered, unexpectedly. "We'll leave in the morning."

"Have you got a word, yet?" Rik's voice piped from the evening gloom. Inglor looked at Haleth expectantly.

"Duty," she shrugged.

"Why that?" he asked.

"It's obviously always on his mind," answered Haleth. "It shouldn't be hard for even the two of you to figure out.

Inglor gave her what might have been a mildly hurt look.

"Ready?" Rik was obviously getting anxious.

"Ready," called Haleth.

Rik came bustling back into the room.

"Good," he said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "We'll start now."

He stared at Inglor, who remained silent for several seconds. Haleth was beginning to wonder if her companion was completely stumped when he finally spoke.

"A good Ranger always does this," Inglor said.

"Follows order," Rik said quickly. He glanced at Haleth who shook her head slightly.

"And when you follow orders you are..." Inglor trailed off.

"Left sitting all alone in the middle of a ruined city for four years with no messages," Rik said. "You'd think after four years that they'd send something. A note on a messenger pigeon. Or even on a badger. But no. Nothing."

He abruptly stopped and shook his head.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Another clue?"

Haleth and Inglor exchanged a quick glance.

"When Faramir held the crossings at Osgiliath on Lord Denethor's orders, he was..."

"Being an enormous show-off," Rik said. "I mean yes, it's one thing to risk death for your country. You die. It's over. Big deal. It's another to be left to rot all by yourself and have no one ever think of you."

Rik launched into another rant. Haleth began to edge towards the door. Even Inglor managed to look concerned.

"Maybe we should do something else," Inglor tried to interrupt their host.

"Oh, sure," Rik continued on bitterly. "Now you want to quit. Well we Rangers never quit, no matter what. We always do our duty."

"That's it!" Haleth blurted in relief. "That's the word!"

"Phew!" Rik said. "That was a tough one. Now it's my turn to pick a word."

"I think that it would be better if we slept now," Inglor said carefully. "Haleth is not feeling well." Haleth immediately allowed her shoulders to slump and tried to look tired.

"Oh!" Rik was worried. "Is there anything I can do? I know some herbal lore. Maybe I can be of some help?"

"It is nothing that a good night's sleep won't cure," Inglor said.

"She can sleep in my bed," Rik said.

"No!" said Haleth. "I mean I wouldn't want to put you out. And we tend to stay together at night."

She looked at Inglor and blushed beet red at the implications.

"I mean we always..." she stammered.

"You needn't explain, dear lady," Rik said stiffly.

"Come along, Haleth." Inglor pulled her out of the house.

He led her around the farmhouse so that the view of Fornost was screened. The last traces of the sun's rays were fading from the western sky. Insects sang their evensong in thousands of voices as the stars blazed, one by one, into the dark sky. Inglor seated himself on the green grass, pulling Haleth down next to him.

"I would appreciate it if you did not wander too far tonight," she said quietly as she pulled up a blade of grass and began to mechanically shred it.

"I will remain by your side," Inglor promised. "Now sleep. You truly do not look well."

"Thank-you so much for the compliment," Haleth grunted as she lay down.