It was nearly midday when the two Rangers finally started off from their camp on the Brandywine riverbanks towards Bree, and Halbarad at least, was impatient to reach the village. Aragorn, after his nightmare had slept late, so that by the time he had tended his horse and eaten, the sun had risen high in the cloudless sky.

'Are we going to take all day about this, Aragorn, or are we going to hurry up?'

Aragorn glanced across at the other man, seeing that in the heat of summer he had had discarded the typical dull cloak of the Rangers and was instead wearing a tight doublet. By the Valar, Halbarad if you were leading me on you could not do a more effective job. 'We'll hurry if you insist Halbarad. Who am I to argue with you?'

Halbarad rolled his eyes in answer; clapping his heels to his mare's flanks and setting her off at a good gallop. He knew Aragorn delighted in feats of horsemanship, and indeed the Chieftain of the Dunedain during that mad racing gallop from grief and blood stained memories. The horses sensed the mood of their riders and stretched out into a flat gallop. For a while, the two rode upsides each other, steaming bodies of horse and man touching. Halbarad, why when you do not flinch or even notice a contact like this, do I feel that you could not, would not accept my love? How can there be a difference in the contact? And how could you consider me a threat, for I love you, my Halbarad.

Both men smiled as they reined in a mile or so from Bree, Halbarad wiping the sweat from his face with one hand. Aragorn shivered despite the heat, a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. Tonight; it must be tonight. How much longer can I keep up this pretence? And if to be a good King I must resist temptation, then how can I be so? A weak King I shall be indeed, unable to keep the simplest pledge with my heart ruling my head.

'Thee is still fun and light in life, is there not, Aragorn? Even after the darkness of battle; which we may have to get used to, there is still sunshine and above dark clouds of night, the stars shine forever.'

Aragorn raised a weak smile. There is nothing save darkness and you of course. The one untouchable remote light in the darkness, my Halbarad. They nudged their horses into a walk, men and beasts sweating from the exertion, reins loose on the horse's necks. Halbarad rode with an easy slouch, stirrups longer than Aragorn would have chosen so that he did not appear to be a soldier of Gondor. The pair reached Bree as the sun was dipping behind Bree Hill, throwing everything into rosy shadow. Aragorn noticed how Halbarad, as dark as his name, faded into the twilight, only the gleam of his eyes and teeth visible. How beautiful he is…Why do men have such a problem with this? Elves do not mind who they love, man or other Elf or anyone else. As one who is of Elven blood, should I care? Why does my love for him shame me? Is it wrong; for I could not help it any more than I can help Sauron to create Orcs.

As ever the Prancing Pony was unchanged - noisy and full, Hobbits and Breemen and Rangers all together. Aragorn could not eat the meal he brought despite his hunger; the ale made him gag and retch with its sharpness. Sighing he walked over to the wooden stalls, glad of the breeze that cooled his face.

His horse, the dark bay warhorse that he had brought from Rohan flicked one ear in greeting, then returned to the hay. Halbarad's mare was asleep, one delicate hind leg resting and Aragorn felt guilty. He had ridden behind Halbarad for a few days, when he was too sick to ride; breathing in the scent of the one he loved and tiring the mare who had to carry Halbarad's bulk. This is the one place he will visit tonight; maybe then I can tell him. If not at least I can see him, talk to him.

Aragorn began to wisp the bay, glad of the almost total darkness. Half an hour, an hour, until the gentle tread of a Ranger could be heard. 'Halbarad?'

'Aragon? Why are you out here?'

'I came to check on the horses.' And to keep away from you. 'What about you?'

'I came to see Tiarri, only you to find that you have already done so.' He sounds like he loves his mare more than he loves many people. Foal from his father's stallion she may be, but he was always possessive. So like Arwen in that…

After a long silence, Halbarad spoke. His soft, gravelly voice cut through the darkness and touched Aragorn's soul. 'I've finished and you've wisped that bay twice. Are you coming back into the Prancing Pony or walking around Bree?'

'I think that I'll walk down towards the Greenway. It is too pleasant a night to spend sleeping.' And too poor a night for others.

Halbarad nodded and walked with him. The two men were glad of the company, glad of the physical presence of the other for different reasons. The darkness was not intense now, for the moon had risen and rode high, bathing Bree in silver. As they walked down the Greenway, Aragorn turned to Halbarad. Now.

'Halbarad… I - I…'