The next few days at the inn crawled by as everyone waited anxiously for Will to regain consciousness. It didn't help that the weather was still foul; the rain had stopped, but the skies were a dreary, uninviting grey. Horace and Evanlyn spent some of that time in the inn's taproom, talking quietly in a corner or simply enjoying each other's presence. The rest they spent in Will's room with Halt, though whether the Ranger enjoyed or merely tolerated their presence, he gave no sign. And so they stayed. And waited.

Now, they were all gathered once again in Will's room: Halt in his chair by the sleeping boy; Evanlyn, wearing her customary tunic and leggings, perched on the windowsill; and Horace, similarly attired, pacing back and forth across the floorboards as he had been for the last – well, he'd lost track of time. Turning again, Horace sighed softly and ran a hand through his hair. His stomach was knotted in a strange mix of boredom and gut-clenching worry for his friend. Catching Evanlyn's eye as he crossed the room again, Horace could tell she felt the same way. He glanced over at Halt, shoulders hunched protectively over the bed, and suppressed another sigh. He wished Will would wake up.

Little did he know, his wish was about to come true.

* * *

Will hurt. He ached all over and felt like every inch of him had been beaten with mallets. Even his eyelashes ached, and that was just, well, ow. His eyelids felt like Jarl Erak was sitting on them, but he forced them open anyway, though it was a tremendous effort to do so. The bright light that assaulted him upon doing so made him gasp in discomfort. Dazed, Will blinked and his vision slowly solidified into a grizzled face weathered by sun and rain, a ragged salt-and-pepper beard, and those painfully familiar grey eyes.

"Halt?"

The Ranger in question froze, unable to draw breath. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears; his hands were trembling. How long had he waited to hear that voice? How long had it been since he'd seen those eyes – dulled, yes, incredibly weary, but still filled with a warmth and curiosity that made their brown depths shine? Eyes that were now peering at him anxiously.

"Halt?" Will's voice felt like sandpaper inside his throat, but he had to know if this was real. This had to be real. "Is that – is that you?"

"Yes, Will," Halt found himself murmuring, vision going suspiciously blurry, "It's me. I –"

But whatever he might have said was cut off by the feeling of Will pawing at him, trying to lever himself into a sitting position. Halt immediately reached to help him and was rewarded by Will all but throwing himself into his arms. Halt responded instinctively, gathering Will to his chest, crushing the boy against him as a relentless wave of emotion overcame them both. Will's face was pressed against his neck and Halt could feel his collar growing damp with Will's tears. Similar tears threatened to spill from Halt's own eyes as he realized Will was speaking, sobbing out a jumbled litany of Halt Halt Halt ohgod missed you so much god into his neck. Halt dug his fingers into Will's back, burying his face in the boy's hair – and then the tears really did spill. He inhaled Will's scent – pine and rain and wet wool – and heard his muffled breaths and couldn't stop the burning lump in his throat at the thought of never seeing Will again. Never talking to him, never again seeing the simple curiosity that sparkled in his eyes… never again seeing Will's smile. Never hearing his laugh… Never…

Seeing this raw display of emotion, Evanlyn traded a look with Horace, standing unnoticed at the back of the room. Wordlessly, they swept out, closing the door softly behind them, leaving Halt and Will to their privacy.

Tears ran freely down Halt's face, trickling into his beard unheeded as he sobbed and hugged Will close – Will who was his apprentice, but so much more as well.

"Will," he rasped, chest painfully tight with emotion, "God, Will." It was all he was capable of saying.

"I thought –" Will's voice trembled as he choked out the words, finally giving into the fear that had tormented him for months, "I though I'd n-never see you ag-g-gain…"

Halt froze, his grip tightening around Will. He felt as though he'd been dunked in ice water. A bitter chill seeped through his veins and he became aware of his own heartbeat resonating in his ears. He pulled back and gently tilted Will's chin up to look him in the eye.

"Will," he said, trying to ignore the way his voice shook, "I'm here. It's over now. You're – you're safe."

Will leaned in to hug him again and Halt allowed it, reveling in the feeling of the boy – warm, safe, alive – in his arms. For a while, they simply sat in silence until Will's stomach took the opportunity to remind him that he hadn't eaten in three days – loudly.

Halt raised an eyebrow.

"Go get cleaned up," he said, helping Will out of bed and indicating the small washing chamber off to the right. "Then we can eat and you can tell me what happened."

* * *

"Will!"

Will froze, one of Paüla's currant buns halfway to his mouth. (The other three that had been on the plate were currently lining the inside of his stomach – Paüla made a mean pastry.) Slowly, for he was still sore, he turned in his chair in time to see Evanlyn's bright smile as she raced toward him, arms outstretched, flying through the weak rays of sunlight that illuminated the taproom.

"You're awake!" Laughing, she hugged him gently, still mindful of his various cuts and bruises. As she pulled away, Will caught the scent of her skin – a hint of soap from her wash – and couldn't stop the way his heart skipped a beat.

But he didn't have time to wonder because Horace – steady, reliable Horace – was bearing down on him, blue eyes impossibly wide and smiling so hard Will feared for his facial muscles. Will let out a joyful, though not very masculine cry as Horace embraced him, but his happiness at seeing his friend outweighed any potential embarrassment. And Horace, for his part, was simply too relieved at seeing Will whole and healthy to mock him.

"Will," he said very seriously when they pulled apart, "thank God you're back."

He nodded at Halt, sitting across the table. "I was afraid his face was going to freeze like that."

Will's eyes lit up. He peered at Halt, pretending to scrutinize the older man. "You mean it hasn't already?"

"Well, you know," Evanlyn piped up, "now that you get to it… it's kind of hard to tell."

She joined Will and Horace as they burst into laughter.

Halt crossed his arms and glowered and tried to pretend that Will's laughter wasn't the most wonderful sound he'd heard in almost a year.

"Alright," he growled, once he'd judged by the redness of their faces and their streaming eyes that the three youths had had enough, "I may be old but I'm not deaf. And there's one thing I'd really like to hear," he continued as Will wiped his eyes and Horace caught his breath, "and that's your story, Will."

The table grew quiet for a moment in the wake of Halt's words. Will fidgeted slightly and picked at the wooden tabletop, chipping out a loose splinter of wood with his thumbnail. An unreadable expression flickered across his face and he pried the sliver loose, but his voice was steady and his eyes were clear as he looked up and began to speak.

"The Skandians caught us caught us just as Morgarath's bridge fell…"

* * *

The sun was dipping low in the west and the clouds were flocking over the mountains as Will, thanks to Evanlyn's many helpful interjections, finished his story. Halt and Horace had been an appreciative audience, Horace listening with rapt attention and "oooh"-ing and "aaah"-ing at precisely the right moments, while Halt sat silently, only interrupting once or twice to ask specific questions.

"What I don't understand," he said finally, his deep voice pensive, "is why the Temujai scout would simply vanish the way you say he did. If he even suspected that there was something amiss near the hut… any scout worth his salt would have investigated. You're sure you two weren't followed?"

Will flushed at his mentor's words and Evanlyn dropped her gaze to the table. Halt pretended not to notice, gazing at them through hooded eyes. From the moment Will had refused to make eye contact when discussing the Temujai's first appearance at the hut, Halt's doubts had been triggered. Now, Will's hesitation only served to add fuel to the fire.

A beat of silence passed, and then Evanlyn spoke up.

"We weren't followed," she said softly, an indefinable expression in her green eyes. "We made sure of it."