Who Wants To Live Forever

by thatoneenbyranger

Summary:

Halt and Crowley have been best friends pretty much since the day they met. But what happens when Crowley gets murdered? And what happens when King Duncan gets the blame put on him? Halt commits an even bigger act of treason than he did when Will was taken, and now he has to go on the run in order to not get arrested, and leaves his old life behind. Every chapter apart from the first one is based on a lyric from Who Wants To Live Forever by Queen. If you haven't listened to it, then what are you doing with your life? Where have you been? It's a great song, go listen to it, and then listen to it again another ten times. And if you have listened to it, then listen to it again, and then check out some other Queen songs, like The Show Must Go On, or Scandal, those are great.

Chapter 1: Prolouge

King Duncan of Araluen poured some more wine into his glass while he listened to the Ranger commandant, and one of his closest friends, Crowley Meratyn, tell a story about one of the assignments he and Halt had gone on.

“They looked absolutely freezing!” Crowley laughed, “It was very unprofessional of you Halt.”

Halt just shrugged. “So?” he asked, “It worked.” They were talking about an assignment the two friends had been sent on around ten years ago. They had to track down some bandits that had been rumoured to be a bigger threat than they were. According to the locals, the group of misfits had been dealing with witchcraft and demonic rituals, summoning supernatural and paranormal beings to help them wreak havoc on the villagers. Halt and Crowley had of course found that these rumours were all false and a lie made up by the bandits themselves. But they still had stolen an object that was quite valuable and essential to the local healer, and she needed it back. So Halt had thrown the bandits leader and two of the other group members into a nearby lake, which was freezing cold as it was the middle of winter at the time.

“Yes I guess it did,” Crowley agreed. “For a group of people that claimed to be summoning and dealing with demons, they were absolute cowards. All Halt had to do was threaten to keep them in the water all night and they immediately told us what we needed to know!”

“I wish every group of bandits we have to deal with was that easy,” Halt muttered into his mug, which was full of coffee as usual.

“Although it may seem unprofessional,” Duncan piped in, “it was still effective. I say it doesn’t really matter how you two do things as long as it gets the job done. And it doesn’t break too many laws.”

“Exactly,” Halt said, looking at Crowley, “And it’s not like they didn’t deserve it.”

“True,” Crowley agreed again, “But it’s still a funny story to tell.” He looked out the window and saw that the moon was well high in the sky. “When did it get dark?”

Duncan laughed. “It’s been like that for ages now, Crowley.”

“What sort of ranger are you if you can’t even tell when the sun goes down,” Halt teased his friend.

Crowley glared at him, although he didn’t fully mean it. “Well I’m sorry,” he said, “But I was too busy entertaining you two with my hilarious story to pay attention to the sky.”

“Ah yes,” Duncan said, a grin spreading across his face, “Because this is the face of someone who is very entertained,” he motioned towards Halt’s bored expression. Crowley waved his comment aside.

“That’s because Halt’s already heard it before. He was there after all.”

“Just because you were talking that doesn’t mean it's a good enough reason to miss the bloody sunset,” Halt said, “It’s not something that takes that much effort to notice.”

“Whatever,” Crowley mumbled, “It doesn’t matter.”

“No it doesn’t matter Crowley,” Duncan agreed, “What does matter at the moment, at least to me, is sleep.”

“What?” Crowley cried out, “It’s not even that late yet!”

“It’s the middle of the night you idiot,” Halt said, “We’ve been wanting to leave for ages now but you wouldn’t stop yapping about your stupid stories.”

Crowley mocked offence, ‘How dare you. My stories are high quality tales. Very sophisticated. They should be written down and put into the castle’s library for pity’s sake!”

“Sure,” Halt said sarcastically. “Well I’m leaving. I’ve got to go back to Redmont tomorrow and I’ve got to get up early.”

“I’ve got to get up early as well. But I’ll see you later,” Duncan said.

“Boring,” Crowley grumbled as Duncan and Halt stood up and left the room, which belonged to Crowley himself.

When they closed the doors behind them, Crowley also got up and went to his own bed. They had a point, he thought. They all needed to get up early for work. They always did.

Chapter 2: There's No Time For Us

Summary:

The day starts of normal, most days start of normal. But this day takes a very dark turn for Halt, when Baron Arald receives a letter with some horrible news, and Pauline passes it onto her husband.

The usual sun was gleaming in through the apartment window, gently heating up the small dining table that sat in front of it. As usual, Pauline and Halt sat at the table, drinking mugs of coffee quietly and enjoying each other's company before they had to start their days and get busy with their jobs. This was how it always was. It had been the same morning routine the day before, and the week before, and since neither of them had any work elsewhere, the month before. Neither Halt nor Pauline had any big plans to go anywhere so unless one of them got called away suddenly, the day would be relatively uneventful. 

“I must say the meeting is the thing I am not looking forward to,” Pauline was saying to her husband. “It’s always the same thing. Some argument that goes on for far too long before everyone comes to the most simple agreement. To make things even worse, it’s at noon, meaning it’ll probably cut into my lunch.”

“Have something to eat before you go then,” Halt suggested, “then you can have your proper lunch afterwards.”

“I will probably do that,” Pauline said, “but it's still a minor inconvenience, and minor inconveniences can be quite annoying.” Halt grunted his agreement but said nothing more. “Arald’s not looking forward to it either. To be honest I don’t think anyone is.”

“Why would they?” Halt asked, “it’s a whole bunch of diplomatic crap.”

Pauline smiled at her husband's description. “That may be true, but it’s still important diplomatic crap. You should be glad you don’t have to sit through meetings like that.”

“I am,” Halt replied, taking a sip from his coffee. It was almost finished. Damn. “I still have to suffer through some though.”

“I suppose you do, just not as much. And for that, I envy you.” Halt grinned at Pauline while she glared at him, before she smiled back. The couple settled into a comfortable silence. Pauline had opened the window slightly so they could hear the bird calls which she enjoyed immensely, and knew Halt did too, whether or not he would admit it. Pauline leaned back slightly and closed her eyes, letting the morning sun heat her face. It felt lovely. Halt rested his chin on his hand and just stared out the window, either focusing on something or completely zoned out. No one could ever really tell. 

As was common knowledge, nothing lasts forever, and eventually Halt and Pauline had to get up to start their day properly. Pauline had to leave to go prepare with Arald for their meeting, so like most days, Halt was left alone in their apartment to do his own work. Looking through a whole bunch of reports and paperwork. Redmont had been uneventful recently. There were no new robbers or thugs springing up anywhere which was a good thing Halt supposed, but it also meant that there was nothing to do. Nothing but paperwork.

It was early in the morning, and of course he didn’t have to get any of it done right away. It wasn’t too urgent. Most of it was probably useless reports that he had to read through anyway, which to Halt was just a huge waste of time.

He contemplated cleaning around the small apartment, maybe dusting the tables or reorganising some things so it was cleaner and less in the way, but he really couldn’t be bothered to. It sounded just as boring as the paperwork. Life had been so much simpler when he had an apprentice to do the housework for him. 

Speaking of his apprentice, it had been a while since he had last seen Will, and with both of them not being busy, it wouldn’t hurt to visit. Yes, he’d do that. But first another cup of coffee.

---

Halt ended up finishing two more cups of coffee before grabbing Abelard from the castle stables to visit Will. The ride to the cabin was a fairly short one, but it was nice. It felt good to get out with his horse and walk around outside in an area that wasn’t just Redmont’s courtyards. The sun was on them for the majority of the ride but as they neared closer to the cabin it started to get hidden behind the shades of the trees that surrounded the dirt trail. Two more minutes of riding in the shade and they arrived.

Tug snickered a greeting as they approached, and Abelard greeted the shaggy horse back. Will must have heard the horses' interaction because a couple seconds later he stepped out through the front door, a grin plastered on his face.

“Hello stranger,” he called out, leaning against the door frame. “Long time, no see.”

“It has been a while,” Halt agreed. He dismounted Abelard and led him to the stable beside the cabin where Tug was standing. The little horse seemed excited to see his friend again.

“What brings you here?” Will asked.

“Not much to do at the moment as you know,” Halt replied, “so I figured I’d let you waste my time since you used to love doing it.”

“You’re bored aren’t you,” Will grinned at his former mentor.

“That does come with having nothing to do.” The two rangers walked into the cabin together. Halt took a seat at the table and Will walked over to the small kitchen, opening a cabinet.

“Do you want any coffee?” Will asked, already knowing the answer.

“Already had some,” Halt replied, “but yes.”

“What’s Pauline been up to?” Will asked as he waited for the water to boil.\

“Usual boring diplomat stuff. She has to go to some meeting with Baron Arald and a couple other boring knobs around lunch. She was complaining about it this morning.”

Will shuddered in mock horror. “The worst thing imaginable. Long meetings.”

“They’re a nightmare,” Halt agreed. “Last time I was in one I asked Arald if I could jump out of the window to get out of it. I’m pretty sure he still thinks I was joking.”

“Why would he think that? He should know by now that you have no sense of humour.” Will grinned as Halt looked at him balefully.

“Why did I even come down here?” he asked himself, but Will answered anyway.

“Because you love me, and couldn’t stand to spend any longer without me.”

“Sure,” Halt replied sarcastically. Will grinned once again, this time with a hint of mischief, and stood up to pour out the coffee. He poured two spoonfuls of the best honey he could buy into the drinks and handed one to Halt, who accepted it gratefully. They sat in silence for a while, enjoying their drinks. 

“Can I admit something to you?” Halt asked Will. Will looked up at him curiously, but his eyes were open, inviting Halt to share anything.

“Sure,” he simply said.

“I kind of wish someone would get robbed or attacked so we have something to do.” Will looked at him blankly for a couple seconds. “You really must be bored. I seriously thought you were about to tell me some super dark secret.”

“I don’t trust you with those.”

“You think I’d tell people,” Will mocked a hurt face.

“No. But you’d probably tell Gilan or Horace, and then they’d tell people.” 

Will considered this before nodding his agreement. “True,” he said. They settled back into silence again.

---

Pauline handed the letter in her hand back to Baron Arald, wiping some of the last tears from her eyes. Arald took it somberly, his eyes downcast and filled with sadness. He placed the letter down on the desk, separate from all the other piles of paper. 

“I just can’t believe it,” Pauline said in a low voice. She held her hands in her lap, her thumbs fiddling with each as some sort of distraction from something. Possibly reality.

“I know,” Arald agreed, in the same low tone Pauline spoke in. “I mean, you hear about this sort of thing happening to other people, but you never imagine it would happen to you.” Pauline nodded her silent agreement. They both sat in a depressing sort of silence, trying to come to terms with their harsh new reality. 

“How many other people know?” Pauline asked quietly. She lifted her eyes up to Arald and saw the deep sadness in him that reflected her own.

“I’m not sure,” he replied. “King Duncan would know of course, he’s the one that sent the letter. I’m assuming a couple other people at Araluen would know. You and I know, and if I’m the only one here that got sent the letter, then no one else at Redmont should know yet.” He was silent for a couple seconds more before continuing, “We’ll have to tell the news to everyone else. And I think we should probably tell Halt first.”

Pauline nodded in agreement again, and she almost choked up as she spoke. “I’ll tell him.”

“Yes, that would probably be best.” 

There was another silence before Pauline stood up. “I’ll get going now,” she said. Arald nodded silently. She left the room with a single tear sliding down her cheek.

---

Halt hung around Will’s place for another hour before returning to his apartment. The first thing he saw when stepping through the door was his wife sitting on the couch, tear stains on her face. He felt fear wash over him. Something was very wrong.

“What happened?” He asked. He took his cloak off, not even bothering to hang it up and instead dropping it on the floor. He walked over to Pauline as tears started to fall down her cheeks, kneeled next to her on the couch and wrapped his arms around her shaking shoulders. Eventually her sobs died down and she calmed down enough to speak.

“We got some horrible news today,” she explained genty. The fear Halt felt before increased slightly. Pauline continued, “Arald received a letter from King Duncan. Crowley’s dead.”

Halt couldn’t tell if Pauline said anything after those two words. If she did, it was all lost to him. Everything seemed to stop in time and all he could hear was his own heart beating rapidly. He hadn’t even fully processed the information fully when he asked, “How?”

His voice was so quiet that Pauline almost didn’t hear him. She took a moment to gather herself together to share the next bit of news. This was probably the worst of it all. “He was found in bed with a knife in his back,” she whispered, “they think he was murdered.”

Halt felt sick. Rangers all had enemies, their job was probably the most dangerous in the country. There was always the possibility of death, or getting seriously hurt. But the thought of something happening was different than when it actually happens. The fact that Crowley was the head of the rangers would make everything worse, Halt realised. Rangers did have heaps of enemies, meaning it would be very difficult to find who did it. 

It took a while for Halt to register Pauline holding him close to her as she sobbed her sorrows into his shoulder. He let her stay like that for a couple of minutes. 

Eventually he tried to move out of Pauline’s embrace. “I’ll be back,” he muttered, and walked over to where he dropped his cloak. Pauline watched him leave the apartment with a worried expression on her face, but she didn’t make any move to stop him. He needed some time alone to process everything. She just hoped he didn’t do anything stupid.

---

Halt walked past the people in castle Redmont without sparing them a single glance. He was headed straight for Abelard. As he approached his horse, Abelard could sense something was very wrong. He looked at his master with a worried and curious eye.

Are you alright?

Halt didn’t bother to reply but gave a very slight shake of his head. Abelard didn’t press on any further but the worried look didn’t leave. Halt rode Abelard into the woods surrounding the castle, and led him down a path that led to a small, gently flowing stream. The stream ran behind the ranger’s cabin, and he and Will used to go there all the time. Sometimes Halt would use it for some of his training exercises, other times he would just sit with Will and watch the ducks swim by. Today he was going to sit by himself and mourn the loss of his best friend. 

It was quiet when he arrived at a good spot. Good. It meant there was no one around. Halt sat down close to the stream's edge and pulled his knees up close to him. 

Now that he had some time by himself without any distractions, his mind finally fully processed the news. Crowley was dead. It wasn’t some sort of sick joke, or some misunderstanding or even something he had made up. It was reality. It was reality that he had lost his first and closest friend. 

Memories of all the fun times he had spent with Crowley flashed across Halt’s mind painfully. Memories of them spending time around campfires, sharing secrets they never told anyone else, joking with each other and confusing people with their inside jokes. He remembered how they would fight over small things and then immediately go back to being best friends like nothing had ever happened. He remembered when they had gone on missions together and tracked down bandits. And he remembered the times he had wished Crowley would stop annoying him and leave him alone. He wanted Crowley back to annoy him more than ever now. 

He pulled his hood further over his head and buried his face into his knees as the memories started to get more and more painful. His shoulders began to shake violently as the tears for Crowley finally started falling. 

 

Notes:

Writing about Crowley's death was kind of sad at first ngl.

Also fun fact: I was listening to Friends Will Be Friends by Queen when I was writing about Halt remembering Crowley so that was fun.

This took a long time and the next chapters will also take fucking forever so yeah. But I finally got it done and I am proud of myself for that.

I hope you liked it, and I hope it made you feel sad because that is my entire job for this since this is a pure angst fic. The next chapter will probably come out in at least two months time because I suck at time management and have so many other WIPs and other things to do.

If you have any feedback, comments or recommendations feel free to tell me, like any creator I love hearing them. You can also send fanfic requests to my tumble account @that-one-enby-ranger. I also do The Outsiders fanfic requests @darrycurtisismywife on Tumblr Good Omens fic requests @everythingsallticketyboo on Tumblr.

Hope you liked it.

Bye y'all. Thanks for reading :)

Song I was listening to when I finished this shit: Dancing With Myself by Billy Idol

Chapter 3: There's No Place For Us

Summary:

As Halt returns home, he has a strange interaction with a man who claims to know something big. Halt doesn't believe much of it, but the more he thinks about it, the more he considers that it might actually be true

The sun had sunk below the hills and the moon had taken its place. The path was almost completely pitch black by the time Halt got up and walked back down it. He had been sitting by the stream for hours. Pauline was probably worried. Although Halt didn’t want Pauline to worry, he couldn’t really be bothered to care. The only thing his mind was focusing on was the fact that he was never going to see his best friend again. His thoughts were so far away that he barely processed anything. He wasn’t paying any attention to the trees, any nocturnal animal noises, wasn’t paying attention to how far away the castle was, or even on where the path was taking him. He could have walked all the way to the otherside of Redmont and he probably wouldn’t have noticed.

Eventually the path did lead out of the trees and he was out in the open. The cool night air felt nice on his face. It was a feeling he usually loved. It was always nice to emerge from some cramped and crowded place, whether or not it was in nature, and out to a large open area where he could easily feel the breeze hit him as it was not blocked by giant tree trunks, and he could see the sky clearly. Usually he preferred it at night. But on this night he just couldn’t find the enjoyment in it. There was nothing to enjoy in anything anymore.

His thoughts kept wandering back to Crowley. His mind kept filling with visions of Crowley’s cheerful face and all the memories. A recurring thought was Crowley hugging him, wrapping his arms around Halt’s shoulders and pulling him close to him. Halt had always pretended to be annoyed by those hugs, even if sometimes he actually was. He would do anything to be able to feel those arms around him again. He would kill to have that feeling.

Silent tears started to fall down his face again. He didn’t even notice them until they were halfway down his face. Knowing that his face was covered with shadow and there was no one around to see him, he made no move to wipe them.

These tears didn’t last very long as they stopped falling after only a couple minutes. A little bit of Halt felt slightly guilty that he had stopped crying. Crowley deserved more than that, didn’t he? Crowley deserved a whole ocean of tears. What type of friend was Halt if he could barely give him any?

The timing for them to stop turned out to be quite fortunate for Halt, however. Approaching him was the figure of a stranger. They were more on the masculine side, being tall and muscular in appearance. He had broad shoulders and he walked with a strong, even gait. Swinging at his hip appeared to be a long sword. Odds were, he was trained to use it. Halt ignored him. Although it wasn’t common, it also wasn’t unusual to see people walking the streets in the middle of the night.

Halt moved to the left of the path, steering clear away from the stranger. As Halt passed, the person turned his head to look at him. Even with the very uneven, hard to see by light, Halt could see an expression of surprise mixed with a strange sense of delight on the stranger's face. As the stranger saw Halt, he stopped in his tracks. Halt kept walking, intent on completely ignoring him.

“You’re the ranger, aren’t you?” The stranger said. Halt sighed irritably. It was kind of hard to ignore the man now. Halt turned around ever so slightly to face him and answered dryly: “It would appear so.”
“And I take it the ranger Crowley was your boss.”

At those words Halt stopped in his tracks and turned around to face the man, a glare on his face. “Why do you care about Crowley?” He asked in a dangerous tone.

“I heard what happened,” the stranger said, “and I know this is going to sound a bit out there, but I know who killed him.” Halt didn’t say anything but kept glaring at the man. The stranger continued on, a little hesitantly. “I saw the entire thing happen. I was a while away so unfortunately I couldn’t do anything to stop it. But I did see who did it. Through a window. I felt I needed to tell someone and I felt that you would be the best person to tell, so I’ve been riding non stop to get here.”

“Why would you think I’m the best person,” Halt asked suspiciously. “Why not anyone else that was actually closer and at castle Araluen.”

“I didn’t trust anyone there,” the stranger explained. “I didn’t want to tell anyone there considering who did it. Would you like to know?”

“And why should I believe you?” Halt asked, crossing his arms. “You’re a random person walking around in the dark claiming to know who murdered the ranger commandant. To any normal person that would seem a little crazy.”

“I suppose that's true,” the stranger admitted, “but I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it. Now do you want to know?”

“No,” Halt said firmly, “Not from you. Now go away and leave me the hell alone.” With that, Halt turned around and kept walking back to his apartment, leaving the stranger behind. Despite him leaving, the man called out to him one more time.

“If you change your mind I have a campsite set up in these woods around here. Shouldn’t take you too long to find if you want to talk.”

Halt ignored him. The man was probably some lunatic. Everything seemed to point towards it. The wild claim, the roaming around at a late hour. He had the look of a soldier, but in Halt’s eyes, all sense of knighthood had left him. Maybe that's why he was camping out in the woods. And the man’s statement that he didn’t trust anyone at Castle Araluen? That was just ridiculous.

Halt was still questioning the man’s sanity when he walked back into the apartment he shared with his wife. Pauline was sitting at the table against the window, staring out it. When she heard Halt enter, she immediately stood up and walked towards him.

“Hey honey,” she said gently, “where have you been?”

“Out.”

“Alright,” Pauline replied as her husband walked past. The one word answer wasn’t very informative, and she was curious, but she didn’t want to push him. He was allowed some time by himself after all. Instead she asked, “Do you want something to eat? Or something to drink?”

“No,” Halt replied. He sat down on the couch and rested his elbows on his knees, pulling his fingers through his hair. Pauline made her way over to the couch and sat down next to him. She moved her hand to touch his knee, intending to comfort him that way, but the second she made contact with him, Halt flinched his knee, making Pauline recoil her hand. She didn’t know what to do. Halt had found out his best friend was dead. She wanted to make him feel better but she didn’t know how to. The best thing she could offer him was a simple question.

“Are you alright?”

“What do you think?” Halt replied, a hint of anger in his voice. Pauline wasn’t offended by the tone. She made another move to touch Halt but he moved further down the couch before she could do anything. Pauline could tell Halt wanted to be left alone, but she didn’t want to leave him. She wanted to be there for him, help him through everything. But how could she do that when he wasn’t accepting any of her efforts.

“Do you want to talk?”

“No.”

Another useless attempt. Halt was now completely avoiding eye contact with Pauline, glaring at the wall like it was the one that caused everything. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Pauline stood up.

“I’m going to make a cup of tea. Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?”

“I’m fine.”

Pauline knew that was certainly not true. Despite knowing the answer, she asked again: “Are you alright? Do you need anything? Anything at all?”

“I’m fine,” Halt repeated, this time between gritted teeth. Pauline took that as a sign to get to the task of preparing her tea. As she went about the task, she kept watch on her husband. Halt was still staring at nothing. It didn’t look like he was taking in any of his surroundings, he was just looking through everything. His eyes looked dead. Pauline couldn’t help herself. She was worried so she asked the question once again.

“Are you alright, hun?”

Halt looked at her and Pauline saw anger flash in his eyes. His Hibernian accent was noticeably thicker as he snapped at her. “Of course I’m not bloody alright! My best friend is dead! Crowley was one of the only people who actually cared about me and now he’s gone. Would you be alright if that happened to you?”

When he finished, Pauline looked at him wordlessly and in a bit of surprise. Halt had never yelled at her before, especially not like that. She couldn’t blame him, but it was so unexpected that now she didn’t know what to say. Halt was still glaring at her but eventually dropped his gaze as he muttered something that Pauline couldn’t make out.

“What did you say?” She asked.

“I’m going to bed,” Halt replied slightly louder. He walked past Pauline, ignoring her worried look and went into their shared bedroom, closing the door behind him with a slight slam.

Pauline was left all alone in the apartment's main room. All she had with her was her thoughts and some half made tea. It was at that moment that the weight of everything that happened finally crashed down on her and tears started to fall down her face, tears for Crowley and tears for her husband.

---

Halt had been lying in bed for hours but still hadn’t managed to fall asleep. He wanted to so badly, in hope that he would wake up and everything would go back to normal, that was all just some horrible nightmare. He had the same thought process every time, it had been the same with Pritchard. Trying to convince himself into some delusion that none of it was real, but it would always make everything worse when he woke up and it was the same.

At some point Pauline had climbed into the bed and assuming he was asleep had given him a light kiss. Halt could have sworn that something that felt like a tear landed on his face. Afterwards Pauline’s breathing had evened out as she went to sleep, but Halt was still awake and thinking. His thoughts kept going back to the stranger he had met. He had told himself that the man was crazy, but now that Halt thought about it, some things didn’t make full sense. How would the man have known about Crowley’s death so quickly? Surely the news wouldn’t have been made public yet. The more Halt thought about it the more he considered if the man had been telling the truth the whole time. There was no real harm simply asking the man more questions. Halt decided that in the morning he would go down to where the man said he was camping and get more information.

After making his plan in his mind, Halt still couldn’t get to sleep. His thoughts kept going back to Crowley and the man. He was too anxious to get answers. Slowly and quietly, he got out of bed, being careful to not wake Pauline. He hadn’t been bothered to get changed into any proper night clothes earlier, instead just throwing off his boots and collapsing into the bed. This came into his favour now as he simply grabbed his boots and put them back on quickly. He grabbed on his cloak from where had thrown it carelessly on the floor next to the bed and threw it over his shoulders, pulling the hood up.

Quietly, he made his way out of the room, across the rest of the apartment and out the door.

Notes:

Halt is the king of gaslighting himself.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I enjoyed writing it even though it took fucking forever. And on that note the next chapter will also take fucking forever so just keep that in mind I've got like a million over WIPs.

If you have any comments or anything like that I love reading shit like that, it makes me happy.

Anyways, see y'all

Song I was listening to when published: Me and the Devil by The Fratellis

Chapter 4: What Is This Thing That Builds Our Dreams, Yet Slips Away From Us?

Summary:

Halt goes back to find that mysterious man and decides to hear him out, and then makes a decision that will change his life forever.

Notes:

TW: Murder, gore, which if I did my job right is hopefully graphic and descriptive. That's what I was aiming for

It took Halt a while to find the man in the dark again, but when he did the man recognised him immediately. 

“I didn’t think you’d be back again,” he said as a greeting. 

There was a cheerful note in his voice that was quickly beginning to annoy Halt. He regretted coming down here already. It was cold and dark, and this man was probably insane. But he was too curious. He needed to know if he had any information about Crowley’s death that would be of worth. If it turned out he was just some crazy man, then it would be an inconvenience, nothing more.

“Just tell me what you know,” Halt snapped at him, “If you know anything at all.”

“I do know something,” the man said. He paused for a couple seconds, seeming to gather his thoughts. “I’ll tell you, but you might need a second to mentally prepare. It’s sort of big.”

“Just get on with it!” Halt hissed at him between gritted. He was fully irritated by this man now and he had a feeling that based on his current mood and the circumstances, if this man kept up with this annoying bit any longer, he might end up with a fist in the face.

“Alright, alright,” the man said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture that did nothing but annoy the ranger in front of him even more. “I’ll start by saying that I worked as a guard at Castle Araluen. I was doing my nightly patrol when I heard what sounded like fighting coming from where Crowley’s rooms were.

“The curtain was open and I could only see a bit in. I saw someone holding a knife that looked like it had blood dripping from it, but it was dark in the room so I only saw a silhouette. He must have lit a candle or something because I could see his face lit up.

“Halt,” the man said, a sorrow tone in his voice that Halt hated. The way he said his name made it seem like they were friends, which they certainly were not. The man continued in the same sorrowful voice.

“It was King Duncan. The king killed Crowley.”

The man barely had any time to react before Halt stepped towards him, face dark with rage. He grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer so their faces were just centimetres apart and that their chests were touching. 

“Don’t you dare lie to me,” Halt growled at him, his voice low and dangerous. “Not about this. Never about this!” His fists were shaking with fury where he held tightly onto the man's shirt. He looked at Halt a bit fearfully, but he swallowed and pledged on.

“I’m not lying,” he said, cautious. “I know what I saw. Although I didn’t know for good at the time. At the time for all I knew someone else could have been in there and Duncan could have been going after them. It wasn’t until the next morning when I heard around the castle the news that Crowley had ‘passed away’ that I knew what had happened. There had been no news of the murderer, so I knew Duncan was most likely trying to cover it up.

“I knew I had to tell someone, but like I said before, I didn’t trust anyone else there. You were the first person I could think of that I thought should know. That’s why I came here.”

Halt didn’t say anything, just continued to glare at him with pure hatred and anger for the world. 

“You wanted me to tell you what I know,” the man said in a firm voice, “Well, that’s what I know.”

“Why the hell would Duncan want Crowley dead?” Halt asked him. He still didn't believe him, he was merely humoring the man, seeing how far the man was willing to go, testing to see how long he would lie for.

“I don't know,” the man replied. “But I had heard some talk that Crowley and the king had been having more arguments and disagreements. More intense ones too. Apparently they couldn't have a single meeting together without starting up a fight. Maybe something just went too far.”

“Duncan wouldn't do that,” Halt said determinedly. There was no way Duncan would do something as vile as killing Crowley. He was their friend. All three of them were close friends. Duncan wouldn't even be able to bring himself to consider doing something like that. Would he? No. Halt knew Duncan.

“I don't know what to tell you then,” the man said. Halt had loosened his grip on the man's collar and he wriggled himself out of his hands. Halt made no move to stop him.

“But I know what I saw, and it was Duncan. I've been betrayed by people I thought were my friends in the past as well. I know it can be hard to believe someone you trusted could hurt you like that. But I guess the truth is that you’ll never really truly know someone. People always hide things from others, even their loved ones. It's just unfortunate that we don't find out the bad truths until it's too late.”

Halt thought about what he said. Trusting people had always been hard for him, it was a defense mechanism born from all the betrayals he had experienced growing up from his own family. He had even taken a while to fully come around to Duncan when they first met. Halt's distrust for royalty and nobles was stronger than for anyone else, another response to all he had been through. Halt eventually had been glad to find a royal who he deemed fit to rule a country, and who wasn't corrupt. 

Oddly enough, when he had met Crowley, the trust was there almost instantly. He didn't know why, that almost never happened, but it did with Crowley. It was like his subconscious was already drawn to Crowley's cheerful nature. Almost like they were always meant to meet and do all the incredible things they did together. Halt didn't believe in fate that much, but with Crowley sometimes he couldn't help but think that was what had drawn them together. Before Halt could say anything, the man kept talking.

“Duncan’s the king,” he said. “If he really wanted to kill someone, he could get away with it. Order anyone who found out about it to keep quiet so no one would do anything about it or turn against him. That's why I figured out I should find you, so then something can be done about it. I don't know about you but I don't want a man like that ruling this country. If he wanted to kill, he could. And he obviously did, just no one knew.”

“Stop talking,” Halt said quietly. He was staring down at the ground, taking in everything. God damnit, he didn't know what to believe anymore. The man either didn't hear or completely ignored him, as he continued.

“I don't know what I can say to make you believe me. But I need you to. You're the only one I can think of that can do anything about this. Find some way to take Duncan down and avenge Crowley.”

“I said stop talking! Just shut up and stop talking!”

The man went silent instantly, looking at the ranger nervously. Halt stayed silent for a long moment, thinking through everything, trying to figure out if this mysterious man, who had seemingly come out of nowhere, was lying. 

“How did you know where to find me?” Halt finally asked. The man looked at him, not understanding the question.

“What do you mean? Everyone knows you’re the Ranger of Redmont,” the man said, but Halt shook his head.

“No. Earlier tonight when you first talked to me. How did you know I would be here specifically? And at this time?”

“I didn’t. My camp is just set up near here. I would have gone to an inn, but it’s not just people in Castle Araluen I don’t trust at the moment. I thought it would be best to be as far away from anyone as possible. I couldn’t sleep so I decided to go for a walk and it was just luck that I banged into you.”

Halt gave him a look that told the man that he didn’t fully believe the story. The man shrugged his shoulders.

“Coincidences happen.” 

Halt had to acknowledge that that was certainly true. Even if they seemed crazy or one in a million, they still happened. And this one didn’t seem so far-fetched that it was completely unbelievable. Halt decided the man was telling the truth. 

He believed the man was telling the truth about running into him, but how much more of what he said was Halt willing to believe. Crowley had been murdered, and so far there were no leads on who had committed such a despicable act. Halt wanted to find who killed Crowley and make them pay more than anything else. 

And now here this man was, telling Halt that he knew who did it, and giving Halt a target in order to give Crowley justice. The man was right. You couldn’t truly know someone’s intentions until it was too late. Halt had been betrayed before, he knew what it felt like, and he knew what it was like beforehand. You think that person would never think of doing such a thing, that they would be there for you and support you. Then, when you least suspected it, they would stab you in the back. Or in this case, stab Crowley in the back. In the literal sense. 

Maybe it was the grief. Maybe it was the need to blame someone. Maybe he just didn’t care anymore about what happened to him, but Halt made up his mind on where he stood on all this. He believed the man.

King Duncan had murdered Crowley Meratyn.

---

Halt snuck his way back into Pauline's rooms, but he wouldn’t be staying long. He had a plan, and he was eager to put it into action as soon as possible. No time like the present.

As quietly as he could, which was very quiet for a ranger, he packed a bag, gathered his weapons and prepared for his journey to Castle Araluen. He would go down to Redmont’s stables, saddle up Abelard, and be on his way long before the sun began to rise.

If he rode hard and non stop, he could be there in only a couple days. In only a couple days time, Duncan could be dead, and Crowley’s soul could rest in peace knowing his killer was in the ground. 

If he had been in a rational mindset, he might have slowed down. Killing the king was a crime punishable by death. If he was caught, there would be no way to get out of it. It wouldn’t be like when he committed treason in order to save Will, it would be so much worse. And Duncan wouldn’t be around to pardon him anymore. If he got caught, he would be dead. But he wasn’t in a rational mindset. His closest and longest friend was dead and he was angry. There was a high probability his life would be ruined after this, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. His life was already ruined, changed forever in such a way that would never allow him to feel true happiness ever again.

He had Pauline, yes. He had Will and Horace and Gilan and all his other friends. But he would never be able to be truly content knowing that the one who had been there for him the longest was never going to be there again. 

In regards to Pauline, he contemplated if he should leave a note to let her know where he was. If she woke up and found him gone, and found nowhere across all of Redmont, she would be worried sick. Despite the burning rage that had clouded almost every ounce of his thinking, Halt still cared deeply for Pauline, and didn’t want to put her through that mental anguish. She had been through enough today.

He didn’t want to tell her directly where he was going though. He couldn’t have anyone, not even his wife, have even an inkling of what he was up to. Chances were if he told her he was going to Castle Araluen, she would assume it would be to remember Crowley. Maybe to go through his things. But this situation was so dangerous telling anyone his whereabouts could potentially result in his execution.

He grabbed a piece of parchment and a pen from Pauline’s work desk and wrote down a quick message.

I’ve gone away for a little while. I need to get away from here. Sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye.

None of it was necessarily a lie. He was going away for a little while. He did need to get away. And he was sorry he didn’t get to say a proper goodbye to Pauline. Halt knew there was a huge chance he wouldn’t see her again, or if he did it would be from behind bars.

Again, if he had been thinking rationally he would see how much of a terrible idea this was. But it was too late for that now. He had made up his mind and nothing was going to stop him.

He placed the note on Pauline’s bedside table, next to the cup of water she always kept next to her at night. 

This part hurt. Halt didn’t want to leave Pauline. He wanted her with him. He wanted to lie down with her and wake up and find that all of this had been some awful nightmare. He wanted to be wrapped up in her arms and for her to whisper to him that everything would be okay. Just like she had done when Will was taken. Or when he heard the news of his sister. 

But nothing would ever be okay again, and he supposed there would be some sacrifices if he wanted to give Crowley the justice he so desperately needed. Even if those sacrifices made him want to scream and cry and throw up and stab himself with his own knife.

He gave Pauline a kiss on the cheek, possibly the last one, and with tears in his eyes, quietly slipped out the door.

---

It took Halt three and a half days to reach Castle Araluen. He was hoping for two, at the longest, but some sense of reason had finally caught up to him, and he realised it wasn’t fair to keep pushing Abelard for that long. Abelard was a strong and incredible horse, with incredible endurance and speed, like all ranger horses. But that didn’t mean Halt had to push him to the limit. Duncan wasn’t going anywhere.

He camped in the woods a little while away from Castle Araluen, forcing himself to stay hidden during the day and wait until nightfall before he made his move.

But now the night was here.

He had thought through what he was going to do while waiting at his camp. Although people wouldn’t suspect him of anything and might not even question him if he walked straight through the castle and into Duncan’s room, that would let people know he was here in the first place. He didn’t want that. He would have to sneak in through the window. 

He had been to Castle Araluen many times before. He had been into Duncan’s quarters and office multiple times in the past, and he knew where the windows were on the castle walls. 

It was a slightly cloudy night which worked in his favour. The moon was just covered enough to allow enough shadows to hide in, but not so much that any darker ones would cause suspicion. 

Halt camouflaged himself behind a small bush on the outskirts of the castle walls. The drawbridge and portcullis were both closed at this hour so there was no chance of sneaking past the guards that way. He would have to take the wall route the whole way. 

Using the shadows to blend in, he snuck around to the other side of the castle walls. In front of his position he could see the guards walking around on their patrol. Watching them for a couple rounds, Halt quickly picked up on the pattern of their patrol. To put things even more into his favour, it seemed that they were nearing the end of their shift, meaning they were tired and getting sloppy with their job, eager to get off duty already. That also meant that there was a chance that the new guards would swap with them at any minute. It would be inconvenient, but Halt was confident enough in his abilities that he was sure he could evade them. Awake guards just made it slightly harder, not impossible. 

The guard he was watching had paused for a couple minutes exactly where Halt was aiming to climb to, observing the woods surrounding the castle and trying to catch any intruders, but now they continued with their route, moving to their next lookout point. For the time being, no guards were looking out near him. If there was ever a time to get moving this would be it. 

The castle walls stones were smooth, but at different shapes and sizes and jutting out of the wall, making for perfect hand and foot holes. Halt had once heard a tale of a castle where all the stones had been smoothed down to be even with the wall, to prevent the exact thing he was aiming on doing. Halt didn't even know if that was true. He heard about it when he was a small child. He imagined only the cruelest of leaders would order their men and workers to individually sand down all the stones of a castle, even if it was for security reasons. The time and effort that would have gone into constructing such a castle was insane to think about. Thankfully, however, Castle Araluen was not like that.

He climbed up the wall with ease, moving quietly and stealthily like a cat. He dragged himself up over the edge and quickly moved to hide in the shadows once more, his cloak easily blending in with the dark grey colours of the cobblestone. 

There was a window, which if Halt was remembering correctly, was the window to King Duncan’s office. Light was shining through it, letting Halt know that Duncan was in there and presumably still working. He would just need to climb up that wall, get the window open and climb inside. Easy.

He moved across the castle as if he were a part of the night itself, easily avoiding the sentries and any other eyes that may have been watching late at night. His feet made no noise on the ground, his cloak turning him invisible to everyone else, and his years of training and experience allowed him to accomplish all these with incredible speed. 

He was at the right tower now. Just one more small climb and he would arrive at the window. The climb took barely any effort from him, and in practically no time he had made it. Peeping into the window, he could see that Duncan was indeed in there. His back was facing towards Halt and he was hunched over at his desk, probably stuck doing paperwork or whatever it was the king did. 

Halt’s heart darkened with rage and fury as he glared holes into the back of the treacherous  backstabbers head. Everything would be fixed soon enough. 

Luck really was on Halt’s side tonight as the window was already slightly open. Duncan must have left it like there to let some fresh night air in. It sounded like something he would do. Crowley used to do that as well. He quietly slid the window open the rest of the way, and crawled in through the small gap of the window.

It was possible he made a small noise, or maybe it was just some sixth sense that alerted Duncan, but the king began to turn around, his shoulders tensed and ready to fight. Halt acted quickly. Before Duncan had a chance to fully turn around, Halt wrapped an arm around his neck, holding him strong and yanking him backwards. The chair Duncan had been sitting in toppled backwards with the movement crashing into both of them and throwing Halt off for a split second. But only a split second. Duncan made a choking noise, trying to throw Halt’s arm off from around his neck but Halt held strong. He had his other hand keeping Duncan’s head still, gripping him tightly on his hair.

Duncan tried his hardest to fight back, squirming and struggling against the rangers strong grip. He still didn’t have a clear view of his attacker. He pushed back with all his weight and he and Halt crashed against the wall. Halt’s elbow struck the wall hard and jarred it, opening up a wound which immediately began to draw blood. 

Duncan must have noticed Halt’s brief pause and immediately seized advantage of it. He kicked his leg backward, slamming his foot firmly into Halt’s knee. Halt cried out in pain and involuntarily let go of Duncan to grasp his now injured knee. 

Duncan scrambled away from Halt, grabbing the letter opener he kept on his desk and holding it out in front of him in the defense position as he finally faced his opponent. 

The letter opener almost dropped from his hand. His expression, which before had been one of fierce determination, changed to one of shock and betrayal. 

“Halt?”

He didn't have any extra time to comprehend what was going on. Halt had picked up the king's chair from the ground and with all the strength from his upper body, hurled at Duncan. The chair struck him right in the chest. He fell backwards with the chair on top of him, keeping him pinned down. As he fell, he loosened his grip and the letter opener fell from his hand. It scraped across the floor, way out of reach from Duncan's hand now. 

Halt stepped forward, the cowl of his cloak casting an ominous and deadly shadow across his face. He drew his Saxe knife with a metallic shiiiing noise. With another forceful yank he threw the chair off him, replacing it with his foot to keep Duncan down. 

Duncan looked at his friend in pure terror. The only thing he could focus on was terrible rage on Halt's face. Rage that was directed at him and only him.

Halt leaned down so he was closer to Duncan, practically on top of him. Duncan struggled underneath him, but it was useless.

“Halt, please! What's going on? Why are you doing this?”

Halt didn't answer. He pulled his saxe into Duncan’s line of sight. Duncan’s eyes widened in fright.

“Please! Let's just talk! Whatever is going on, I promise I can help you. Please, you're my friend.” Duncan’s voice grew quieter as he pleaded for his life. “Please.”

Halt didn’t say anything, just gripped his knife higher, getting ready to bring it down.

“What are you do-?” That was all he could get out before Halts saxe knife was plunged deep into his chest.

Duncan had felt pain before, he had been injured before, but not like this. Never like this. The searing burning pain of Halt's blade puncturing through his skin and flesh was too much to be bare. The cold steel mixing with the hot blood was a strange sensation, and he didn't like it very much. 

If he could have talked about this experience afterwards, he would have said he swore he could feel the tip of the knife tearing into his heart, and he could have sworn he felt the exact moment it stopped beating. 

Perhaps the worst part of the pain was the emotional aspect. The last expression ever to cross his face was a mixture of shock, confusion and fear. The last expression he ever saw was one of pure fury and hatred for him, and he didn't know why. The last thing he knew was one of his closest friends taking his life with not a single bit of remorse.

Halt had hurt people before, he had killed people before, but not like this. Never like this. He had never killed someone he had once cared about, and he had never killed someone with such rage and such a need for their blood. 

He never took any kind of enjoyment out of taking someone's life, no matter how much of a horrible person they were. Perhaps enjoyment was the wrong word, but there was no denying the satisfaction he felt now. 

The feeling of his own knife getting pushed deep into his friend's chest by his own hands was a surreal one. Duncan’s blood spurted to the surface of the wound, covering the blade, Duncan's chest and Halt’s hands. The blood was sticky and slippery, specifically on the hilt of the knife. Halt's hands slipped slightly, angling the knife in a different direction inside of Duncan’s chest. 

Blood was trickling out of Duncan’s mouth. His eyes were wide staring at the ceiling. The knife was stuck in his chest. Halt wrestled it out of Duncan, more blood being pulled out with it. He stared at the body, no longer feeling anything. He did what he came here to do, and now he had to get out of here.

There were sounds of running footsteps and shouting coming from down the hall, getting closer and closer.

“It was coming from the king’s office!” 

Halt was surprised it took the guards this long to figure out something was going on. The fight between him and Duncan had caused a lot of noise and commotion. Duncan really should have gotten hired better and more alert guards. 

But that wasn't his biggest concern at the moment. He needed to run. He sheathed his knife and ran back to the window he climbed in. The guards barged into the office before Halt had a chance to completely disappear. He saw the lead guard out of the corner of his eye. He was sure he recognised him from somewhere. And he was sure the guards had recognised him. 

It was time to get back to Abelard.

Notes:

I FINALLY FINISHED ANOTHER CHAPTER! That took so goddamn long all because I'm a professional procrastinator and just didn't feel like it, but I wrote a whole bunch yesterday (like probably over half of the chapter) and I finished it so yippie.

Holy shit I just checked when I last updated this. LAST FUCKING YEAR?! IT'S BEEN OVER A YEAR SINCE I WORKED ON THIS. I swear to god I don't remember it being that long. Whoopsies. (Also side note I just got distracted because like five different smoke alarms just went off at the same time but it's all good)

Anyway thanks for reading. I've been writing a bunch more recently, pretty much everyday as opposed to one word a week, so hopefully the next chapter won't take a whole year to get done. But then again I write mostly during break times at school and also in class and my last day before exam leave and my last day of proper school is tomorrow and it's a half day so I don't know how much that's going to change.

I hope you liked it!

-That One Enby Ranger

Chapter 5: There's No Chance For Us

Summary:

Will and Pauline process Halt's dissapearance, and the recent news of King Duncan's murder, and who was seen at the crime.

Will was relaxing in the early morning sun on the front porch of his cabin he used to share with Halt. It was nice when he could find the time to lean back and forget about all the millions of responsibilities that came with being one of the rangers of one of the biggest fiefs. Normally mornings were some of the only times when he could achieve this.

Of course, this morning he was mainly using the sun as a bright distraction from the devastating news of his commandant's death. It didn’t really seem right, he thought, for the day to be such a good one when the exact opposite was happening in his life at the moment. 

When a messenger from Baron Arald had come around the previous evening to inform him of Crowley’s passing he had immediately been overcome with shock and grief. The shock had grown when he heard it had been a murder. Crowley was a great commandant, and even greater friend. He was nice and friendly, making Will feel welcome into the corps when they had first met. His absence would leave a sort of empty void in his and many other peoples lives. Will couldn’t remember how long he had cried for when he got the news. 

He heard Tug give a friendly nicker, signalling to Will that someone was approaching the cabin, and that it was someone he knew. Maybe it was Halt, he thought. He hoped it was. If he was this upset over Crowley’s death he couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be for his mentor. Will knew Crowley had been Halt’s closest friend for years. The two of them would constantly be seen together at the gatherings, talking about non-work related things and just catching up. Will knew they both cared about each other deeply. Will really wanted to see Halt and make sure he was alright. 

A couple minutes later Will saw a familiar figure round the bend in the path. They were tall, too tall to be Halt. They came a little bit more into view and Will saw that it was Pauline. Why was she here? And where was Halt?

“Hello, Pauline,” Will greeted as she came into earshot. Normally he would sound more cheerful and upbeat when saying hello to one of his friends, but given the circumstances, he didn’t feel it was appropriate. 

“Hello, Will,” Pauline replied, in the same quiet, neutral tone. But Will noticed there was a tinge of worry in her voice. “How are you?”

“Not great,” Will admitted. He knew he didn’t have to lie to her. “It was just all so unexpected.” He was trying to fight back tears as they began to well up again, and as Pauline replied he had a feeling she was doing the same. 

“I know. I know you rangers have to deal with dangerous threats all of the time, but I never thought this would happen.”

“I understand how you feel. How's Halt doing?” Will asked, and he could have kicked himself. Pauline was standing right in front of him and he didn’t even ask how she was doing. But Pauline didn’t seem to take any kind of offense with the question. 

“He’s actually why I came to see you,” she said. The worry Will had noticed before was more pronounced now, slipping its way into her expression as well as her face. “He’s gone away somewhere and I have no idea where.”

“What do you mean ‘gone away’?” Now Will was starting to worry. “Wait, do you want to come inside first? We can talk there.” Pauline nodded and followed Will into the cabin.

“Do you want some coffee?” Will asked as Pauline took a seat at the table.

“No, thank you. I’m alright.”

“Alright.” Will took the seat next to Pauline and moved closer to her. “Now, tell me what happened.”

“Well, after I told him the news, he took Abelard for a ride, I’m assuming to get away from everything. He came back and was pretty snappy with me, which was understandable. He went to bed early but I don’t think he got any sleep. This morning I woke up and he was gone. He left this for me.”

She pulled out the note Halt had written out of a pocket and handed it to Will, who took it and quickly read it. 

“And you have no idea where he may have gone?” Will asked.

Pauline shrugged. “The only place I could think of would be Castle Araluen. Maybe to see Crowley’s body. Maybe to see if he can find anything that could point towards who did it. He didn’t say anything to me but I have a feeling that killing whoever did this is his top priority right now.”

Will nodded. “Probably. Hopefully he’ll be back soon. His note did say he’d only be gone for a while. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” He was trying to stay optimistic for Pauline. She was also old friends with Crowley, and now her husband was missing. All of this must be extremely stressful for her. 

He didn’t want to worry Pauline anymore, so he didn’t say it outloud, but the last line in Halt’s note made him feel uneasy. Sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye. It could simply be Halt apologising that he didn’t tell her in person that he was leaving, but Will had a feeling that Halt had meant something else by that line. Did he not think he was coming back? No. That was a silly thought. Of course he was coming back. He just needed to process things somewhere else. Although, he wished he knew where that somewhere was.

“He’ll be fine,” Will repeated quietly, more to himself than Pauline. He was looking down at his hands in his laps, playing with his fingers, when Pauline made a small noise that made him look up. Oh, she was most definitely holding back tears, and it seemed as if they were finally about to spill over. 

Will quickly moved even closer to Pauline’s side, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. Immediately she started sobbing openly, both for Crowley and Halt, and Will started soon after. For the next few minutes they stayed holding each other, in slightly awkward and uncomfortable positions, crying for their friends and for themselves. 

---

It had been a few days since Halt had disappeared and there was still no trace of him. Admittedly, neither Will or Pauline really looked far, but they had asked around. With word of a murder at Castle Araluen already spreading around the kingdom, Will had quickly had a lot of work placed on him. People became even more panicked when they heard it was the Ranger Corps commandant that was killed.

Pauline meanwhile, didn't want to leave Redmont. She didn't want to leave and risk Halt coming back to find her gone. She figured the best thing to do was sit back and wait for him to come home in his own time. But that didn't stop her from worrying terribly and asking around if anyone had seen him. No one had. 

Pauline had been spending most of the last couple days with Will in his cabin, keeping him company and letting him keep her company while he worked through mountains of paperwork. 

They had just been discussing different topics that interested them to get their minds off of everything when someone knocked at the door.

Will opened the door and saw a young man standing there. He was dressed in the typical uniform that marked him as one of Castle Redmont’s messengers. 

“Can I help you?” Will asked politely. 

“Good day, sir,” the messenger said, a bit nervously, “Baron Arald asks that you meet him in his office.” He paused, looking past Will into the cabin, where he saw Pauline sitting at the table. “Ah, Lady Pauline. Baron Arald also asks to see you. He says it is very important. I tried to tell you earlier but I couldn’t find you.”

“I’ve just been here,” Pauline told him. She noticed that the messenger seemed a lot more comfortable talking to her than Will. She had noticed that a lot when people were talking to Halt as well. People were just uncomfortable in the presence of rangers. 

Will and Pauline followed the messenger, giving each other nervous glances. If Arald wanted to see both of them, and it was supposedly important, there was no doubt in either of their minds that it was about Halt. Maybe they could finally get an answer on where he had gone. 

Will’s overactive imagination was forcing disturbing scenarios into his head. What if someone had found Halt dead? He wouldn’t be able to handle that, and he knew Pauline wouldn’t be able to either. He couldn’t imagine a life without Halt. He felt sick. The thoughts about Halt’s hypothetical death was digging deeper into his brain and convincing him that that was what had happened. He was about to walk into Arald’s office and come face to face with the worst news he had ever heard. 

As soon as they arrived, they were immediately admitted into the office. Arald looked tired, and stressed. He wasn’t overly close to Crowley but Will had no doubt that he was also deeply saddened by the news. What was even worse was his red rimmed eyes, that made him appear as if he had been crying. What would he have to cry about? Oh God, Will thought. He was now even more convinced something terrible had happened to Halt. 

“Will, Pauline,” Arald said quietly. There were no formalities. No one else but them was in the room. This wasn’t a work related matter. This was personal. “I’ve received some news from Castle Araluen. I think you two should take a seat.” They did, and Arald took a deep breath before continuing. “King Duncan has been murdered.” 

Pauline made a choking sound in her throat as her hand came up to her mouth in shock. Will felt an instant wash of relief. Halt wasn’t dead. But then almost immediately after that thought he felt extremely guilty. King Duncan was dead, and his first feeling was relief? Duncan didn’t deserve this, he was a good king. He wondered what horrible person could be committing these murders.

Arald was about to continue, but had to take another breath. He looked up, blinking his eyes a little, as if he was trying to hold back tears. Finally, he spoke, driving home the worst of the news. 

“Some of the guards reported to have seen Halt leaving the office right after the murder. They believe he did it.”

Pauline completely crumbled at the news. She buried her face in her hands and silently weeped behind them. It was as if Halt had died.

Will swallowed a few times to make sure his voice would come out clear, then asked, “Are they sure?”

“One of the guards said he got a pretty good look at him,” Arald explained. “He was wearing his cloak which already identified him as a ranger, and the guard said he had worked with Halt for an assignment one time. He recognised him.”

“But why would Halt do that? Halt would never do something like that. I know him and Duncan have their disagreements from time to time but Halt would never resort to something as violent as murder. He respects him and cares too much about him for that. And why would he do it now of all times?” Will refused to believe it. The guard was definitely just mistaken. It could have still been a ranger, but not Halt. That same ranger was probably the one who killed Crowley. In a strange and twisted way, it made sense for one of Crowley’s own rangers to be able to best him in such a way. But not Halt. Never Halt.

Arald could see he was having a hard time believing. He did too when he first heard, and even now he still wasn’t completely sure. “What are you thinking?” Arald asked Will gently. 

“It’s just,” Will said, then paused as his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I know Halt. He would never do something like that without a good reason. And what reason would he have to kill Duncan. The guard must be mistaken. It had to be someone else.”

Arald was nodding. “I thought so at first too. And I still kind of think that. I know Halt could get a little out of hand at times, especially when you were concerned, but I can’t imagine he would ever go this far. But they interviewed the guard and he said he was surer than anything that it was Halt.”

“But that doesn’t mean that it’s true!” Will burst out. “They can’t just take the word of one man no matter how sure he appears to be. I know it wasn’t him. Surely everyone else can see how ridiculous this all sounds!”

Arald was now shaking his head, sadly. “Unfortunaltely, thats not how most people are seeing it at the moment. You know how people are, they hear something and they instantly believe it. Word has already gotten out, and everyone already believes the guard. And I don’t think Halt’s banishment and the whole treason thing is going to help in convincing people otherwise. 

“What’s worse is he’s the only suspect. Just as there’s no hard proof that he did do it, there’s also no proof at all that he didn’t. Unless he’s shown up again in the past few days?”

Silently, Will shook his head. 

“From what I know, Cassandra is understandably upset. She wants to find who did this to her father and give them the proper punishment. She wants Halt found. I don’t know if she is also convinced he did it, and I don’t know how hard she plans to be on him when they do find him. They’ve searched all over the castle grounds and the fief and they can’t find any trace of him.”

“He’s good at remaining unseen,” Will said quietly. He was staring down at his hands in his laps, trying to make sense of everything. Halt would only commit such a crime if he had a good reason. But what reason would he have? And did this have anything to do with Crowley?

“Pauline?” Arald had directed his attention towards her now. “Are you alright?”

She had removed her hands from her face now and was staring at the floor. Tears were still running freely down her cheeks, and she seemed to have gone non-verbal. All she gave in response was a small shrug of the shoulders. Both Will and Arald interpreted that as ‘no’. Will moved his chair closer to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. 

“Arald,” Will said, addressing him as not a baron, but as a friend, “Is that all you had to tell us? May we be excused now?”

“Yes, that’s all,” Arald replied with a slight wave of his hand. “Go take care of yourselves, alright?” Take care of each other.

“We will,” Will smiled, but it was a small one. Pauline wiped her tears away and slipped back into the picture of diplomacy and elegance.

Instead of going back to the cabin, they went to Pauline’s apartment, by Will’s suggestion. They didn’t speak most of the way, and when they walked inside, they silently sat down on the couch next to each other. After a few more minutes of silence, Pauline finally spoke up.

“What’s going to happen to him?” Her voice sounded so small and broken. Will wished there was something he could do to make her feel better, but aside from bringing Halt home safely to her, there was nothing he could do. 

“I don’t know,” he replied, in an equally broken voice. There was no point offering false hope. The only hope he could hold onto was that Cassandra didn’t believe the allegations, that when she found Halt she would let him explain his side of where he was. Or even better, if Halt came back and could prove that he had been elsewhere. But until that happened, there was nothing he could do. 

Will remembered that before he was to go to Clonmel with Halt and Horace, Pauline had asked him to look after Halt for her. Now, he felt Halt would want him to look after Pauline. Halt and Pauline were two people at the top of his list of people he didn’t think would ever need looking after. Usually he was the one being looked after by them. But this situation was different. This was Pauline’s husband they were talking about. The love of her life. She needed someone to support her during this time, and Will was the best option. And Will also needed someone to support him.

“Do you want me to stay here with you?” Will asked, “Until we can sort all this out. I really don’t mind.”

Pauline looked at him gratefully. “I’d like that,” she said. “I don’t know about you, but I really don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Mmm,” Will agreed, “I don’t either.”

“I’m worried about him, Will,” Pauline whispered.

“Mmm,” Will agreed again, “I’m worried about him too.”

---

A few more days passed and there was still no sign of Halt. There was no new news about the situation and Will and Pauline were more antsy than ever. The worry was keeping them up at night. Pauline especially. 

The first night Will stayed over, they had shared Halt and Pauline’s big bed. There was more than enough room and they were both close and comfortable enough around each other to feel safe. But it was strange for Pauline. It felt weird sharing a bed with someone else when for so many years it had only been Halt with her, especially when that someone was a person who she had very very different kinds of feelings towards. When Pauline voiced her thoughts to Will, he completely understood, and instead made up a bed for himself on the couch. 

The next night had been equally as uncomfortable, as it felt just as strange to be alone. The normally warm bed felt oddly cold. As a result, she wasn’t getting much sleep, which then resulted in her staring at the ceiling and letting her thoughts wander. And they always went back to Halt. 

She knew he was okay. She had this instinct when it came to her husband and she just knew that he was okay. The scary thing though was that she didn’t know how long for. 

---

Will had gone down to the cabin to get some work done. When he opened the door, he saw that there was a letter that had been slipped under. It had the royal seal marked on it. He wasted no more time in cracking it open and reading it.

Will, 

I’m sure you’re aware of the situation by now. My father has been murdered and there have been reports by witnesses that Halt has done it. I’m sure I don’t need to explain to you how serious this is. 

I’m only going to tell you this once, if you know where Halt is, or if you even have any idea where he might be, you must tell us. This is the law, and he is now a criminal. In fact, he is now one of the worst kind of criminals. He’s a murderer, Will, and I need you to understand that. 

This country and your job as a ranger comes before any personal relationships or morals. I don’t think Halt fully understood that at times but I need you to. I know this must be a difficult time for you, as it is for everyone. I know you care about Halt deeply, just as I did. But this is the king’s murder we are talking about. 

If I find out you have been hiding him, you will be expelled from the ranger corps, and you’ll be lucky if that’s all. Horace knows all this. He knows his priorities lie with the kingdom, and we hope you know that too. 

Don’t betray us too, Will. 

Princess Cassandra.

Will read through the letter a few more times, his head spinning. Princess Cassandra. It was odd. She almost always signed letters addressed to him as Evanlyn, even formal ones, as a reminder of the bond they had built with everything they had gone through. The letter made it seem like that bond was non-existent. 

Will sighed, utterly defeated. Any hope that he had that Cassandra would see reason was gone. She clearly believed Halt had killed Duncan, and she clearly wasn’t going to hesitate with bringing down the full punishment onto him. Death. 

In any other situation, Will would be on Cassandra’s side, and he would understand that she was grieving the loss of her father and was most likely looking for someone to punish. But this was Halt they were talking about. She knew him, surely she knew he would never do such a thing. 

Some things she had said in the letter really irritated him as well: Halt’s a murderer. Halt didn’t understand that kingdom comes before personal interests. Was that in reference to his banishment? That was so unfair! Halt did that for a reason, to save Will, and in doing so he has also saved Cassandra herself and two countries! Cassandra said in the letter that she did care about him. Past tense. Did she not anymore? After everything Halt had done for her! 

But what may have hurt the most was the last line. Don’t betray us too. He didn’t care how much Cassandra was grieving. This was so unfair towards both Halt and Will. Halt had saved her life, he had supported her, he had done so much for her, and Cassandra loved and looked up to him. Yet the word of a single guard all of sudden made her flip views on him in a second. Will couldn’t believe her. 

But he could worry and be mad about Cassandra later. At the moment his main priority was showing this letter to Pauline. She had the right to know her husband was now in mortal danger, after all. 

Just a short while ago Will had been hoping that they would find Halt. Now he was hoping more than anything that he would stay hidden, and they never find him.

Notes:

Uh-oh, Halt's gonna get fucking hanged if he gets caught.

I hope you enjoyed this, and I hope you're enjoying the story as a whole, because I have the full thing planned out, and have two sequel stories planned as well so hopefully people are interested in that because this is the fic I am the most proud of and the one I am the most invested in working on and getting finished so it would kinda suck if nobody cared. I'm trying to guilt trip people into caring about this fic and the ones that follow, am I doing a good job at it?

Oh, please read this fic and say nice things about it leave lots of comments and kudos and bookmark it and subscribe to it. This is my life's work and if it doesn't go well then my entire family will die in a firey wreak and I'll have no one to take care of me or feed me 🥺.

But seriously, it would be really nice if y'all left something because it feels good to see that someone enjoys my stuff. It gives me faith for my future as hopefully an author. But then again this fandom is pretty small so I don't know how many people are going to see it in the first place.

Next chapter is gonna be focused back on Halt again, and hopefully I have more motiviation to get it out faster.

-That One Enby Ranger