Wow, its been a really, really, REALLY long time since I've updated...so sorry about that...its been one of those summers, you have no idea, but now that I'm back at school, I can go back to sitting in my dorm not doing my homework again...here I am, third day back at school and I have a new chapter for you! Yea! Its a little short, but hey, I do have to do some of my homework...really, its gonna be a tough semester, so I do have to study...which I will go do now...ummm, ok, after I read some of my book...and eat some dinner...and maybe take a nap...ok, so enjoy...oh yeah, I don't own it!

Rangers; it's a Way of Life

The sound of birds chirping in the early morning could be heard echoing everywhere in the forest, a strange contrast to the eerie quietness of the night before. And it was for this reason, this sound that helped assure the men that all was well, that Hérion was able to sleep very deeply, despite all the commotion going on in the branches. That is, until a very load crow took off from a large oak just above his head.

The time was about 7:30, slightly after the usual for him. With a quick rub of the eyes and a firm shake of the head to clear the night previous' events, he rose and went to find some quick food, then have a talk with their new strange friend.

When he first approached he thought the man asleep, but as he neared, he saw that his eyes were wide open, staring at the sky with a haunted look deep in them. Hérion knelt beside him and searched for something to say. He knew nothing about him, this stranger named Strider, knew nothing about what had happened to him, what could he say, what words of comfort could he spare when they, he and his fellow rangers, seldom knew the word themselves? They were each other's families here, what could he do to comfort an outsider.

He looked at the man; cold eyes still staring, unmoving at the sky. He wondered if he knew he was there. He made to touch his shoulder but stopped when Strider suddenly spoke, a blank, almost bored voice, but Hérion could sense fear in it.

"They killed them all, they're all gone."

"What?" Hérion spoke from surprise without thinking.

"They're all dead, except me." The man broke his gaze from the sky for the first time and stared at Hérion. "Or am I dead too?" He looked around confused.

"Easy lad, you're safe." He squeezed his shoulder in reassurance.

"No, never safe, they'll always come after me, always."

"Who?" he asked softly.

"Orcs. His eyes slid closed and he spoke no more. Hérion wasn't sure if he was asleep or just choosing to be ignored for the time being, but Hérion stood and left him for the time being and went to fetch Strider some hot mash from the fire pit, since undoubtedly the man would be hungry. When he returned to where they had left him though, he found the bedroll empty.

Concerned Hérion looked around. Strider, he knew, could easily be in trouble, or worse, causing it. A ranger camp area was no place to mess around in if one didn't know what was going on, and so few outsiders knew much of anything about them. Hérion called out for the man, feeling slightly foolish as he did. How could he lose place of an injured, sick, half starved man, barely into his years of adulthood? He called out again, then sighed in relief as he saw him standing at the edge of the camp, starting off into the woods.

Hérion walked somewhat heavier than usual, making sure Strider could hear him approaching. The last thing he wanted was for someone to shout out 'Orcs' right in their camp. Hérion did a double take when he realized that Strider was standing about the same area, and staring through the same trees that they brought him in from the night before. He shook it off as coincidence and confronted the man as to why he was out of bed.

He had barely opened his mouth however when once again Strider beat him to it.

"They were my first command. And now they're gone." At last some light on what had happened. But the light only seemed to reveal a cave full of unexplored tunnels.

"I'm afraid I don't know quite what you are talking about."

"My men, they're dead, all of them. They were my responsibility, it's my fault. All those families now broken apart…all my fault."

"What men, what command?" Hérion had to be suspicious of everything these days, evil was everywhere anymore.

"Think you the only group of rangers in this part?" Strider turned and smiled gloomily. "Well, we were a group…I suppose we still are…"

"Slow down, you're not making any sense lad."

"Nothing makes sense anymore…" The man suddenly swayed on his feet and Hérion was quick to steady him.

"Lets get you back to your bedroll, and then get some hot food in you, then you'll feel alive again." Strider leaned heavily on Hérion as he guided him back to his bed. He sat him down carefully then handed him the bowl hot mash. He watched as he ate hungrily.

"How long has it been since you last ate?" he said almost without thinking.

"Nigh on three days, almost as long without water." No wonder the lad looked half starved, he was!

"What happened out there? What happened to you?" he sat down across from Strider and leaned forward.

"I have been with the rangers for six months now. As my father's son it was my job to command the group." Hérion nodded knowingly, having inherited his position the same. "My father was killed when I was younger, so a relative was standing in until I was of age. When I joined the rest of them, he thought it best to give me time to adjust to the lifestyle, so I was second in command; I suppose you could say, for a few months. Then he broke off fifteen men from the core group for me to command. I was to return in three months to take over the whole group. We were on our return journey when we were attacked." He paused to scrape the bottom of his bowl and lick his spoon clean. Hérion's eyes twinkled with amusement.

"We were making camp for the night, it was late, and I had pressed them hard that day, eager to be back. I told them I would take the first watch alone. I know I didn't fall asleep…" he paused, seeming to be frustrated with himself, "But my senses were not what they should have been. Before I could react orcs were upon us. Three of my men were killed without ever having a chance to defend themselves. They all fought bravely, even though we were outnumbered, we did what we could. In the end, only three of us survived. One, however, was injured to badly. We knew there were more orcs nearby and that we had to get back to the others. I didn't want to…but there was no other choice…he never would have survived…"

'Easy now, easy, no sense in getting worked up." Hérion put a steady hand on each shoulder, which had begun to shake. "It is a decision, unfortunately, that we all make at some point, that's part of our duty as leader, but its never easy." He waited for him to continue.

"So we…we had to try and continue on to the camp, only we weren't sure where to go. Our senses were messed with, and we were far from well. We wandered for a day, hopelessly lost, with no supplies. I did what I could for my companion, but when I woke the next morning, wondering why he had not awoken me for my turn at the watch, I found him dead. He had passed on sometime during the night without a sound. Fortunately there was no danger that night, but I was now alone. I must have stumbled around for hours that day, falling occasionally, sometimes, I wouldn't get back up for an hour. Then, just after nightfall, I felt them coming again; orcs. So I ran. I knew there weren't many of them, but with just my sword, and no others to help, already being injured as I was…"

"You were no coward to run. Tis what you had to do to survive."

"I knew they would not stop chasing me, nothing but death would stop them, so long as I was alive.' Strider swallowed hard, acknowledging the unbidden curse he had received by being heir to the throne.

"So you ran till you could run no more, which was when you happened upon us, yes?" Strider nodded in silent agreement as he brooded over what happened. "You may relax now, you are safe here."

"No, never safe."

He is delirious, he is probably still shook up over everything that has happened, and no doubt why. We'll wait till he is healed then get him back where he belongs. "Who is in command now of your group, who is your kinsman?" Perhaps he knew of him, knew where to send Strider.

Strider eyed the man in front of him warily. He was a fellow ranger, he knew the risks and the dangers, he knew the life…he could trust him. "Halbarad." He dropped his gaze to the ground as he spoke softly.

"Your father was Arathorn!"