Long Lasting Love
Disclaimer: I don't own Ranger's Apprentice.
I'm in the mood to write one-shots. That just seems to be how the day is going, even though I have two assignments to write and two that need drastic editing. Too bad my one-shots tend not to have much in the way of plot and this one is no exception. I just sat down and came out with…plotless mush.
The apartment was cosy, a stark contrast to the bitter onset of war outside the window. It hadn't reached Redmont yet. Tomorrow was the day. The day when the army would move out to Hackham Heath, and they'd see the bloodshed and the desolate cries of brave men turned to children by their wounds, and maybe they'd see their own childhood flash before their eyes. Maybe that would be the end.
Most of them didn't know the future. No one really did, not all of it, but experienced campaigners like the ranger Halt had seen the horrors of war before and could predict what would come. He'd seen stab wounds swollen, oozing pus and blood. He'd gripped the hands of dying men. He'd killed coldly, easily, from afar and swiftly driven a blade through a living body close up. But that was all they were out there in the fight. Bodies. Living bodies that could hurt him and needed to be disposed of and dead bodies that would see no more. It was only after the adrenaline rush that he'd walk around the fallen, enemy and comrade alike, and wonder how many widows and orphans there were now.
Halt had been to see the baron. He'd made the final preparations. He'd listened stoically to Arald's bad jokes and he'd wondered if the young, newly appointed baron had ever really been to war. Then, just before he left, he thought he saw Arald turn and stare out the window at the spring crops in the fields, at the children skipping on the cobblestones, and he saw a depth of sadness in the baron's eyes. Halt let the door click behind him without a word. That was what they all fought for, the children and the woman, the land and the way of life. But they fought for glory too, at least the young men did. The new recruits thought they were going off to be dashing knights in glittering armour, having noble duels in the lands of Hackham heath. They were fools.
The commanding officers, those that were experienced like Halt, could never explain what war was truly like. The recruits simply had to find out for themselves. Perhaps that was what weighed at the barons mind, perhaps he felt he was deceiving his people. But not the women; they knew to be worried even if they hid it. And the land knew. The land would be torn apart. It'd seen the legendary wars before Morgarath, it was aged and wrinkled, and once more it would be crippled.
It was not the day to run into Pauline. She had a knack for finding him though, and somehow Halt ended up at her apartment, with his hands threaded through her hair and her lips on his. He was never sure how she did it. People could forget ranger sorcery, Pauline was the real enchantress and she'd cast some kind of spell over him to make him unable to say no to her. In fact, he had trouble saying very much at all to her. His voice came out deep and gruff, completely at odds with her graceful manner, and he'd bite his tongue to prevent himself from saying something stupid.
So in stark contrast to the war they'd be heading for tomorrow, Halt found himself in a warm apartment at the castle that night. It was her presence that made it so warm and cosy- another of her enchantments- as in fact the walls were pristine white, as cool and professional as she could be, and everything was so orderly it might have been hard to believe anyone lived here if he didn't know better. He felt her softness, as delicate and fragrant as a flower petal, even though he knew she was a tough woman with a spine of steel. Steel- he'd be seeing a lot of that in the next few months. He'd catch up with Crowley too, who kept asking him how things were going with Pauline- he'd once made the mistake of confiding in the annoying commandant- and he wasn't sure what he'd say. Halt thought things were going well, and he knew she loved him back, but they never quite stated their relationship and certainly didn't make it public that there was anything going on between them.
She made him coffee in the morning and they talked about the war. Pauline was one of the few people with which he could be open about his role in the war. She kissed him several times that morning and cuddled up to his side. Halt knew she was being unusually affectionate, however right it felt to put his arm around her, and it crossed his mind that maybe she was worried about his safety in the war. It'd been a long time since he'd had anyone to worry about him. He searched her face for a clue, but it was impossible to tell if that was the case.
Deep inside, he hoped it was. He also hoped in his absence she wouldn't find another man. But he did feel distinctly uncomfortable when she said she would see him off with the army. Halt had no reason to say she couldn't, except that he was concerned about what Rodney and Arald might say, and he couldn't bring himself to admit that to her. So she walked down the stairs with him and leant on the stable door as he saddled Abelard.
"Stay safe," she said softly. "I love you."
Under the hood of his cloak, he flushed. His eyes darted around to make sure no one was listening. He cleared his throat several times and mumbled that he loved her too. Pauline chuckled, a smooth, graceful sound that had him even more embarrassed. Halt was glad she couldn't see under the shadow of his cowl. Then again, maybe she could with her enchantress powers. Either way, she wasn't helping his mental preparation for the war. He sucked in a breath and steadied his nerves, controlling the tight feeling he had in the bottom of his stomach when he thought of how many he would kill over the next month (for while Morgarath controlled wargals, he had men working for him too), and even worse, what might happen if they didn't win the war.
"Goodbye," he said. It came out more abrupt than he'd intended. She seemed to understand- that was the great thing about Pauline, she always understood him. He was hoping she'd go home now and he wouldn't walk out to the baron with her, but she must have understood that too because she smiled at him and shook her head.
"Don't deprive me of the last few moments of your company," she said. "We're colleagues. No one will even notice."
However, Halt was sure they did notice. She might not have heard it, but he was a ranger and he heard the whispers that went around the crowd- 'does the ranger have a girlfriend?' 'That's Lady Pauline." "The ranger and Lady Pauline?" "I didn't see that coming." That was the start of the rumours that circled around, that there might be something between the unlikely pair. It was a rumour that would later reach Baron Arald himself, and years later he would be the one to let it slip to Pauline of what people said. For now, Pauline kept a respectful distance, the kind a work colleague would.
She nodded at a married couple with a smile. The man was in a soldier's uniform, and the woman was kissing and hugging him and polishing his chainmail with a cloth. "It'd be nice to be like that," Pauline observed, speaking so quietly only Halt heard her. When he couldn't think of anything much to say to that, she jogged his arm. "Well, I suppose we're professional people and it'd only get in the way of work."
She was giving him a way out, he knew, that wouldn't offend her. He muttered under his breath, "Not yet, not now." He didn't want to say no completely, he wanted her to know that if he was to get married, it would have to be to her.
"I won't wait for you forever," Pauline said softly. He saw in her eyes that she knew what she wanted, she wanted marriage, and she was asking it of him. He hesitated. Halt knew there was every possibility he could die in the war. In a moment of weakness, it struck him that he didn't want to die without ever having given her what she wanted most.
"After the war," he murmured. Her eyebrows raised, the only hint of surprise on her features.
"Was that a proposal?" she asked, an amused little smile playing at the corners of her lips. He nodded, curtly, aware that a few eyes were on him, though they couldn't hear what was being said.
"Come and find me after the war," she whispered. She looked deliriously happy, and he thought she skipped a pace as she made her way to farewell the baron and Rodney, although he could have imagined it. He mounted Abelard and took his position, ready to lead the army. He didn't think Pauline would appreciate how he wiped her from his mind and focused his entire being on doing his job. At night, he thought about her, but by day he was only the ranger Halt, a cold-blooded murderer in the eyes of his enemies.
The war was long. Most wars are. It was just as Halt had expected, blood soaking the tattered earth. Every morning, he woke to more dead bodies littering the ground, and every night he helped to bury his comrades. After a while, Pauline didn't even join him at night; she was a distant memory that trickled to his consciousness only when he saw someone with their own lover- which was infrequent. He spent a fair amount of time with Crowley, and occasionally they would talk about something that wasn't war related, although he noticed Crowley asked a lot about how Pauline was and never mentioned any girls up at Castle Araluen that he might fancy.
Then Halt had his idea. He led the cavalry through a secret ford. It was a move that won them the war, and at the evening camp, he heard his name mentioned in awe more than he'd like. It was also the move that won him his fame, even if he didn't want it. Halt heard embellished tales of his achievement. He was unreasonably upset and annoyed with them. On the very last night of the war, he spoke to Crowley about it. The commandant was delighted for him- "you're famous now Halt! Excellent work!" but this faded to a touch of sympathy as Halt told him about the soldier, Daniel, that had saved his life. It wasn't fair, Halt confessed, that everyone was so hyped up about the success when Daniel had done an honourable act, far more honourable than Halt's own, and received no credit for it. To Halt, the success was hollow. In his dreams, he saw Daniel's face, pleading with him to take care of his wife and child. He saw the blood stained spears. He saw himself, lying helpless on the ground. While the soldiers toasted to the victory, he made his way to a small lake and sat there, tossing pebbles in the water and watching them ripple.
Baron Arald directed the packing up of equipment, and the last burials of fallen comrades. At this time, the ranger Halt disappeared. He returned with a baby curled up under his cloak. The few that noticed this gasped. Halt took the baron aside and they spoke; then came to the conclusion that the baby should grow up in the ward. So if the ranger had an infant in his arms as he led Redmont's army back home, well, no one dared to ask him about it.
Halt made sure the baby was in good hands. He wrote his note and left it on the doorstep with Will. He watched over the baby for a few days, to ensure Daniel's son was safe. At times, he saw Pauline, noticed how her eyes looked tired, and shrank back into the shadows. Halt himself wasn't sure why he didn't go talk to her, or why he didn't want to marry her yet. But he was numb inside, tainted by a fingerprint of blood, and more than he thought about her, he thought about Daniel's sacrifice.
He left Redmont to hunt down Morgarath's generals and command, under Crowley's orders. Each time he returned, he'd report to the baron and slink out of the castle back to the cabin to write his report to Crowley. The aftermath of war brought with it a heap of work for the rangers, and Halt was kept busy with this. With time, Daniel slipped to the back of his mind, though he still checked on Will. After a while, he could place in his mind why he didn't want to see Pauline: he just wasn't ready for her. He was still in love with the forests and the hills. He realised, for now, he couldn't be in love with his work and with a woman- he was, but he'd already chosen one over the other.
She wouldn't be avoided so easily, especially as she worked in the castle. And she was talking to the baron as he entered with one of his reports. Her eyes were cool and level, but he fancied he saw some hurt behind them. Halt pushed back his guilt and reported to the baron in his usual gruff tones. Pauline waited for him outside Arald's office. She touched his arm, looking puzzled.
Halt met her eyes. "Crowley asks if you can take a message to Sir Rollond," he said evenly. She was thrown by the comment.
"Yes, I got his letter," she said. Halt had already turned and was walking swiftly away. She was a clever woman, she'd figure out from that he was only talking to her when work was concerned. And for all her talk of love and marriage, he knew she wouldn't run down the stairs after him. Just as he wouldn't ruin his image, she wouldn't ruin hers. It didn't matter if she passed by his cabin later, he'd already be gone. He'd gotten a letter from Sir David, one of the knights he'd befriended in the war, inviting him to come by Castle Araluen and catch up.
He did so. David introduced him to his young son Gilan, a loud-mouthed, cheeky boy with a ready grin. They'd sit drinking coffee on the porch while David talked about recent affairs, and once, he told Halt wistfully about his deceased wife. Gilan was in training to be a knight and he kept sneaking away because he was excited by the visitor. It occurred to Halt that the boy might well make a half decent ranger and he promised himself to keep one eye on Gilan. He caught up with Crowley too, and the commandant asked how Pauline was, and Halt got annoyed with him and said it was none of his business.
When he returned to Redmont, he admitted to himself that he was grateful to see the familiar spires of the castles. However, as he reached the cabin, Abelard gave a warning rumble. With a frown, he noted that Pauline was sitting on his porch. She looked up, saw him, and stood to her full height. She crossed her arms, eyes glittering dangerously.
"Hello," Halt said at length. She cocked an eyebrow at him. Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, he slid down from the saddle.
"What's the matter with you?" Pauline accused. He blinked, not completely certain where he'd stepped out of line and offended her. Unless she was bristling over him avoiding her. Halt didn't really know what else to do. He didn't want to see her outside of work because that would lead to seeing her as more than a friend, but he didn't want to be the one to break it off with her. A part of that was his distaste at the idea of her finding another man. She was the only one for him. Yet he didn't want anyone at the moment. He wanted to be left alone in his cabin to do his job.
"Have I done something?" Pauline asked, exasperated.
"No," Halt said.
"Do you remember the proposal you gave me?"
He looked at her. It hadn't really been much of a proposal, he thought.
Pauline threw up her hands. "Are we finished? Are we over?"
"I don't know," Halt shrugged. He knew it was a stupid thing to say the moment it left his mouth. Stupid, but true. He didn't know quite what he felt, he just needed more time, time that she wasn't willing to give him. All he knew for sure was that David's son would make a good ranger, that he had promised to watch out for Will, that he had reports that needed writing and a baron he needed to see. That wasn't good enough for her.
She shook her head and they didn't speak of it for years.
In the meantime, he raised his two apprentices, his two sons, one after the other. Crowley put on his usual performance for Gilan's graduation. For a while, Halt had to get used to his empty cabin again, although Gilan visited at every opportunity. Not Pauline though- she never came to the cabin although they eased into a friendship and nothing more. He saw her with new men, and he waited, but she never married any of them. Then came Will, and for a while his cabin was alive with youth again.
But he was getting old. It came as a shock to him when Will was in his last year of apprenticeship. He had a family: his brother Crowley, his son Will, his, perhaps, nephews Gilan and Horace, and he was fond of them all. And Halt realised that somehow, without him noticing, his boundless love of work had faded and that given the choice again, he would choose family over lonely days in the forest. He thought about Pauline again, at night, at day, and the spark that had never quite disappeared grew again like a flower budding in spring. Halt found that the idea of moving to her apartment in the castle was not as dissatisfying as it had once been.
So he gathered his courage and he knocked on her door. She opened it with a smile. It wasn't unusual for him to drop by. He'd visited her more and more as Will got closer to his graduation day. They had dinner together sometimes, and talked about work. More often they talked about the growing affection between their protégées. Never about the affection between themselves. Today, he surreptitiously checked the corridor to make sure no one was around. He dropped to one knee.
Pauline stopped him with a hand on his cheek. "Don't," she said. "There's no need, you proposed to me years ago." It was just like in the old days, with him marvelling at how well she understood him. He understood her too. In her eyes was patience, and satisfaction, as if she had known when he started visiting her again that it was only a matter of time.
"You said you wouldn't wait for me," Halt said. She hummed softly and slipped her arms around his neck. Her hands fell to her waist, just as they always had.
'I said I wouldn't wait for you forever," Pauline said. "I didn't say I wouldn't wait a damn long time."