((Disclaimer: I don't own Middle Earth, or any of Tolkien's characters that reside there. I know that, you know that, but it's polite to have a disclaimer, no?))
It was after dinner, and though Aradol had been told he would be going to bed soon, he still was going to sit beside the window for as long as possible. He would peer out into the darkness every once in a while with a hopeful expression. The young boy was now changed into an old pair of breeches and tunic. Caleneth sat in a chair by the fire mending the rip in his tunic that he'd gotten earlier in the day. She worked with the speed and efficiency of any mother who had many years of experience patching up such rips. Archall sat quietly, smoking his pipe as he did often in the evenings.
Taurwen was sitting at the now-cleared table, sitting with her head in her hands as she gazed over an old book, the light of a candle flickering over the pages.. She was looking forward to Arthon's return nearly as much as Aradol, but she was doing a better job of concealing it. After she realized that she'd read the same paragraph three times over, she turned the page and tried a new one.
In fact, the only being in that little cottage that didn't seem to be oblivious to the mood was their cat. She was white with orange and black patches and was referred to affectionately as Glamor.
She stood up and stretched languidly from where she had been sitting under the table, and nudged her head against Taurwen's leg. The girl smiled at this familiar gesture and reached down to scratch Glamor behind the ears. The cat tended to take to Taurwen most often. Aradol had tried to give her a bath, among other things, Caleneth scolded whenever she jumped on the table, and most of the time Archall tended to ignore her completely.
Taurwen gave Glamor one last pat before looking back to the book. It was an interesting book, certainly, but she'd read it twice before, and nearly had every word memorized. She loved to read and learn about history and old tales, but hearing them told was much better than reading them. Still, reading passed the time, at least.
"Someone's coming!" Aradol announced happily just then, causing even Archall to look up from his chair. He bounced from his seat next to the window and headed for the door immediately, just barely missing tripping over the cat, who decided quickly to take refuge elsewhere.
There was one knock at the door before Aradol arrived. He swung open the door and stepped back.
As he had expected, the man standing at the door was a Ranger, clad in the grey cloak, clasped with a silver, many-rayed star. His leather boots were well-worn and plastered with dried mud, as were his dark grey breeches and tunic. He carried a traditional Ranger's sword, and at his back was a long bow and quiver of arrows beside his pack, in which he carried the rest of his gear.
Despite the similarities in gear and clothing, though, this Ranger was not Arthon. Aradol was surprised, and the usually talkative boy was surprised into confused silence. He appeared to be attempting to speak, but he couldn't quite find the right words.
Taurwen frowned slightly. She recognized him vaguely, but it was hard to tell in the dim light, and through the mud. He looked weary, only his light grey eyes seemed to be fairly alert. He was not very old, especially not for one of the Dunedain, but responsibility weighed heavily on him, that much was evident in his proud yet calm visage.
"Halbarad," Archall stood up from his chair abruptly. It had been a while since he'd met the Ranger, and for a moment he seemed more lively and energetic than he had been in quite a while. The Ranger now identified as Halbarad nodded, as much a gesture of respect as it confirmed the name.
Aradol moved back to stand beside Taurwen as Archall walked over to Halbarad, now looking more in awe than anything. The boy had never met the Ranger that was second in command only to Aragorn himself. Taurwen merely watched, her expression blank. She knew that something was wrong.
"Come in, come in," Archall told Halbarad and motioned for the Ranger to enter.
Halbarad came in, but he shook his head as he did so. "I cannot stay long. It is good to see you, Archall. It has been quite a while. Lady Caleneth," He nodded to Caleneth who was still sitting. Halbarad's gaze went to Aradol and then to Taurwen before he looked back to Archall. "In fact, the sooner I go, the better."
"Arthon?" Archall asked. He tried to maintain a composed air, but he had long feared that news of his son's death would come one dark night such as this.
Halbarad nodded. "I do not know what has befallen him, but I fear the worst. I see that he is not here, as I had hoped. He was supposed to meet with me, but I knew that afterwards he was coming here. I did not think that he would forego my request, but ...," He paused and held out something to Archall.
Archall's expression was stern as he held out his hand and was given something small and silver. It was the rayed star that Rangers wore on their cloaks. It was familiar to him, as it had been his before he'd given it to Arthon not so long ago. There was a silence as this was taken in and fully realized.
"I still have hope," Halbarad said finally, breaking the quiet that had fallen over the room. "I must go now, there is no time to be lost." He withdrew as if to turn around and go, but Archall spoke first.
"Where are the other Rangers?" He asked dryly, still feeling a little stunned. "Would it be wise to go alone? You look more travel-worn than usual, my friend."
Halbarad hesitated for a moment. "It would take two days at least to find help, and that is time that we do not have. I will go alone, if I must. I will not rest until I find him." Halbarad knew Arthon well enough, and liked the lad. He was an admirable sort, and it pained Halbarad to think that he'd found such grievous trouble, as he suspected he had.
Archall grimaced. He was of half a mind to offer to go too, but he knew that he would only be in the way. He would only make things worse for the younger Ranger, but he could not bear the thought that Halbarad would go alone and unaided. What else could he do, though?
"With your leave, my lord," Halbarad bowed his head in Archall's direction. "I would stay longer, but as I said, I have no time."
"Yes, yes, of course. Thank you," Archall nodded shortly in return.
Halbarad was gone swiftly, his cloak pulled about him as he stepped back outside into the night air. He blended into the darkness, and was little more than a shadow making its way across the path and into the trees. He was going to find Arthon, whatever had become of him.
In the house, a sort of numb silence had fallen.
Archall returned to his chair by the fire, sitting down heavily, breaking the spell that seemed to loom over them. He still held the brooch cradled in one hand.
"Well, it's time for young boys to be off to bed," Caleneth announced suddenly, jolting Aradol out of his stunned silence. For once, he did not even have a thought to protest. He allowed himself to be herded off in the direction of his room, though he shot a few furtive glances back at his father and sister.
Taurwen knew that she was expected to be going to bed soon, as well. She lingered at the table, though, deeply troubled by this horrible news. The look of pained worry in her mother's eyes, the tight-lipped frown of concern of her father's, and her little brother's open horror all struck her sharply.
"He will be fine," She said slowly and quietly.
"I hope so," Archall answered without turning around.
