A Dull Blade (open)

[cassiopeia]

The smile lingered on Casswyn's face as her quick green eyes ran over Aragost's body. There wasn't a scratch on him. In fact, he didn't even look remotely ruffled by the events of the day – and he had had a two mile jaunt on foot to get here too! This man clearly wasn't cut from the same cloth as most.

Casswyn's first instinct was to confess to Aragost that she had, in fact, briefly hesitated under his instructions. She held her tongue, however, as a shadow had passed over the man's face for the briefest moment. Clearly something from his past had presented itself to him and the dismissive shake of his head seemed to indicate it was not something he remembered with fondness. It would not be appropriate for her to blether on about something so unimportant. After all, she had followed through in the end and she would not doubt his suggestions again in a hurry.

“I would welcome that warmly,” Casswyn said agreeably, noticing that when Aragost smiled it softened his masculine features, “I should have some food packed as well.” It wouldn't be much but there would be something her saddlebags, there always was. Casswyn had learned quickly to always have some sort of sustenance with her at all times, even when in town. You never knew when you might need to leave unexpectedly. Like today, for instance. Casswyn smiled and shook her head disbelievingly, she had not foreseen the day panning out like this at all! Yet, as she watched Aragost make his way over to the horses, she considered herself enitrely blessed to have crossed his path.

Casswyn set about gathering some decent, dry firewood, occasionally glancing up at Aragost. The man had certainly captured her attention. What sort of training had he had to give him those impressive skills of stealth and combat? He was right, this close to the city they ought to be safe from foul creatures. On her own Casswyn might worry over thieves and vandals, but with Aragost in her company she doubted any such trouble would come their way. It was most unusual for her to feel so content, so safe. Casswyn savoured it.

It took only moments to get a fire started, for the kindling was dry and eager to burn. They would be able to cook on it shortly. Casswyn hummed quietly under her breath, joining Aragost at the horses to unpack a woollen blanket from one of the bags. This she laid near the fire, it would make a better seat than the bare earth. Approaching the horses again, Casswyn nodded in the direction of Aragost's steed as she opened another of her saddlebags. She was bound to have some dried fruit, nuts, perhaps even some cured meat. Hmm, perhaps she ought to set a few rabbit snares.

“You have a fine horse,” Casswyn said sincerely, certain that Aragost must already know the quality of his equine companion, “What is his name?”

[Aragost]

Aragost dug around in the saddle bag for a few moments and found himself a handful of dry bread and some dried fruit as well. These were good things to have whenever travelling. One could survive for quite a long time on these things. Water was the most important of course and he always made sure to have more than one canteen full of that around. There had been to many times when he had been caught in the wilderness with nothing to drink. To learn to survive of the simple liquids that plants and animals gave you was a task that most would not want to attempt, and even fewer that did would fully succeed. Either way, it was a lesson well learned and thus he was now always prepared for such an event.

She spoke about his horse, or, at least, that was the last bit that he had heard. He had a bad habit of sometimes getting lost in his thoughts which would cause him to blot out the outside world at times. Then again, that was mostly not a problem as he was not around people all that often. He turned after taking out the items that he had found in the saddlebag. He looked over at his shoulder at the horse and nodded and walked over to the fire and blanket that she had just laid down. He set the food down on the quilt before answering it.

“ His name is Beren, after the great Beren himself of the Second age. I am sure you have heard stories of him. There are few that live that have not heard the story of Beren and Luthien. But, perhaps that is not true actually. I can only speak for my people. They are of that bloodline and thus, stories of the forefathers of our race are often told along the fireside whenever we were young..” He said with a slight smile as he remembered his youth. It seemed such a long time ago now. After all, Dunedain rangers lived to be almost two hundred years of age, and that, that is a long time to live. If you had friends among the men of the world you must suffer and watch them pass into the West as you linger on and continue. Sometimes, such things are difficult to bare. “ So tell me, what are your plans now?” He asked as he stroked at the small fire he had been tending while he was speaking.

[cassiopeia]

Casswyn watched curiously as Aragost made his way back over to the fire. When he called back to her that his horse's name was Beren, Casswyn smiled to herself. The happy memories she recalled were remarkably similar to those that Aragost then described.

“Aye, I know the tale of Beren well. My father was fond of telling such stories,” Casswyn replied. She had been blessed with parents that could read and write a little and in this one thing she had eventually been able to surpass them both. However, many of the common people in Rohan were entirely illiterate, leading to a great reliance on oral tradition. Story-telling was a common pastime and one that Fastred, Casswyn's father, had indeed loved dearly. Tales of greatness, love and courage were often told around fires, allowing the listeners to step outside their own rather mundane lives for a time. The tale of Beren and Lúthien had been one of Casswyn's favourites.

It was then that Aragost's words truly registered with the young rider. His people were of that bloodline? Then what race did that make him? Casswyn frowned a moment, mulling it over, there was a memory on the periphery of her mind but she couldn't quite grasp it. Then it came to her and her expression turned to one of utter surprise. Whilst on the road she had heard tale of the Men of the West and the Rangers of the North, expert warriors who fought where they were needed. Of course she had never met one and wasn't even sure if there was truth in the whispers regaling their existence – after all, travellers could be relied on to tell tall tales! But it would explain Aragost's strength, his swordmanship, his dexterity and his stealth. Casswyn had retrieved the food from the bags and now gazed over at him, watching his powerful shoulders shift underneath his clothes. Her brief thoughts of trapping rabbits had long gone. Somewhere in the midst of her thoughts and distraction, Casswyn heard his question and that brought her, mostly, back to the present.

“I don't really have a plan,” Casswyn started sheepishly, as she made her way back over to him, kneeling on the rug and laying out the food she had brought, “I just drift from one place to another, looking for work, and I haven't given any thought as to where I will go next.” Casswyn popped a small piece of cured meat into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully, still distracted by the storm of thoughts raging inside her head. Then came a question, though it was not the one truly at the fore-front of her mind, “What about you, Aragost? Where shall you go next?”

Casswyn squirmed slightly as she waited on his answer, her curiosity was too great and the weight of her unuttered question was heavy. She knew to be so shamelessly direct might land her in poor favour but if she didn't ask, if she didn't know, it would drive her wild! And if she missed this opportunity to enquire another might not present itself any time soon. Disregarding the advice her late father had given her many years ago, that prying fingers are apt to be bitten off, Casswyn ploughed onto her next question.

“I... I apologise if it's rude of me to ask but who are your people?” Casswyn asked, biting her lip now, relieved to have asked the question aloud but a little ashamed to have given in to the eagerness of her youth and kicking herself for her lack of tact. This day Aragost had seen too many of her flaws and too few of her strengths, hopefully in time that would change!

[Aragost]

Aragost listened as she spoke of not knowing where that she was going to be going next. That was rather strange as Aragost was someone that always knew his course in life. He had known it since he was a small boy and the mission and role of his people had quite literally been laid out before his feet. However, he was aware that not everyone was like him. There were those that wandered through life carelessly and they were in fact the most dangerous people to encounter. They had nothing to lose and nothing to gain. It was one of those situations where, they could be turned to do whatever someone wanted really. If the right person was able to get a hold of those wandering souls and give them a sense of purpose than truly someone would have found a great servant. Aragost had seen that sort of thing happen more often than not. Too many servants of the enemy had become employed in such a way. Confusion and no sense of purpose were just as dangerous of weapons as a sword or a bow.

Aragost did not think that this is what would happen to Cass. She seemed to have what most people would call a moral compass. Despite that, it was always possible that people could be corrupted, but he felt that was not the case here. Sharing with her what race and lineage he was did not seem like to much of a risk for him. After all, he did not view her as an immediate threat and they had just come through something together than, in a way, whether he wanted to accept it or not had brought them a little closer together. Damn, perhaps this is why he tended to shy away from people. They had a way of complicating things and then in return ask you a whole lot of questions whether you want to answer them or not. He shook his head and took a breath as he ran his hand over his chin before speaking.

“ I am on a mission, assigned to me by the leader of my race, Arathorn the II. If you have not already guessed by now, or at least had some inclination, I am one of the Dunedain. A ranger from the North of the bloodline of Numenour. Beren the bold is of our kin.” He said in a rather proud manner. He was not ashamed of who he was in any way at all. He was just selective in who he told. The Dunedain had many enemies. In fact, it was his impression that every agent of the enemy had standing orders to attempt to slay any member of the line of Dunedain they came in contact with. Of course, that was a lot more difficult that it sounded obviously. Aragost took a breath and then took another bite of the bread his was eating.

[cassiopeia]

The young Rohirrim had learned long ago to take pretentious claims of lineage, and similarly tall tales, with a pinch of salt - but she did not for a single moment doubt the truth in Aragost's words. And though there was pride in his voice (as there rightly should be!) it was not like he had flaunted this information. She had asked and he had kindly divulged the truth, instead of rebuking her for her curiosity. As Aragost spoke, Casswyn, without realising she was doing it, lifted a hand and placed it lightly on her chest. The man sitting across from her was one of the Dúnedain, he was descended from Beren. No wonder Aragost was not like other men, he was cut from the cloth of legends!

“I had a suspicion but I did not know for certain,” Casswyn said breathlessly, her green eyes wide with wonder, “In truth, I had no idea such heroes still walked Middle Earth.”

A faint colour uncharacteristically rose on Casswyn's cheekbones. It wasn't that she hadn't already seen Aragost as a hero, after all he had done for her today he was firmly in that camp as far as Casswyn was concerned, it was just that she was not used to hearing such outright awe in her own voice. The young woman had been captivated by him from the moment they met, but there were no words to describe how she felt now. There were so many questions she wanted to ask him. What age was he? Was he married? Aragost looked youthful but his kind were said to be gifted with long life so it stood to reason that his appearance could be deceiving. How many men of the Dúnedain were there? What duties had he undertaken in the past? Of course, she was curious of his current mission but she knew beyond reasonable doubt that it was none of her business. Well, in truth, anything she might want to ask him was hardly her business. He owed her nothing. In fact, quite the contrary was true, and surely the last thing he desired right now was to be quizzed by some naïve girl not long off the farm. This last thought grounded Casswyn somewhat.

“Thank you, Aragost,” Casswyn murmured sincerely as she pulled her knees up and hugged them close to her chest, ”For everything you have done to help me, for your kindness and for your honesty.” The young woman smiled a small smile, “You... You have restored my faith in humanity.” Casswyn paused a moment, inclining her head, “I hope that, someday, I am able to repay you.”

[Aragost]

Aragost sat quietly for a moment. He knew very well that he would not take any sort of payment or repayment as it were for the things that he had done. No, he was a man that acted on his instincts and on what he judged to be right. So far, his entire actions were based upon that and thus the concept of repayment had not really crossed his mind. He looked over at her as she was almost balled up in a way next to the fire. He couldn’t help but smile a little bit and shake his head. She seemed so frail and innocent and almost in a sense untouched by the world. Here she was, out with stranger that, in turn she hardly knew. Granted, in hindsight he had done her a service and those would have given her a reason to trust him but still.

“ You have no need to repay me and thanks are not even in order. I only did what I judged be right.” He said with deep breath as he took another piece of his food. “ As to my kind you are right. There are very few of us left in the world and the ones that there are, are consistently hunted and tracked by the enemy. That is why were are skilled in battle as you have seen. That is why we are the men of legend that you have heard about. Our skills are closed to unmatched but that is only because we have to use these skills on a day to day basis. Trust me, there are many of us that wish it was not so. We wish we could live simple and peaceful lives away from the world and all of the darkness that seems to be creeping into its boarders. Alas, that is not up to us. Sometimes things are beyond our control and thus we have to live and learn to take on the world, or, in this case defend it.” He said with another breath as he looked over at her.

She reminded him of one of the young women of his race who was just learning about the lives the Dunedain had to live. They were often frightened, or, even confused at time because the entire situation seemed so different and surreal to all of them. However, if there was something that he knew about the women of his race was this, they were as stubborn and could adapt just as well as the men. He did not think that Cass was obviously Dunedain. Actually, he knew for a fact that she wasn’t, but she had qualities. She was brave enough in the face of danger. She had the motivation to work hard and those were things that he admired in anyone really, not just a woman.

[cassiopeia]

Casswyn had known that Aragost would not expect repayment and she could not help but smile at his words. He truly was a man of courage, honour and justice – just like the men from those tales of old. In truth, Aragost gave Casswyn hope. Hope for the race of men and hope for Middle Earth for, although she was just a wandering soul, she too had noticed the growing darkness in the land. And what Casswyn had seen and felt would not be the half of it, the worst must even now be being held at bay by men like Aragost! Shedding their blood quietly, always on the periphery, their efforts never acknowledged, not seeking glory but certainly deserving it. It made Casswyn's heart sink. Though Aragost did not require it, or hope for it, the Casswyn hoped that someday there would be an opportunity for her to return his kindness. It would do her heart good to do well by him. But what were the chances of a capable man like Aragost ever having need of one like Casswyn? The Rohirrim lifted another piece of fruit, nibbling on it thoughtfully. The answer was next to none.

As Aragost recounted the challenges faced by the Dúnedain, Casswyn halted in her eating, giving her full focus to his words, her face growing grim. What a weight he was forced to bear! And she had had the free choice of a quiet life but had turned it away. It made Casswyn feel like an rebellious child all over again until she recalled the echoing, empty farmhouse and the memories it held. No, there had been no future for her there. In a way, like Aragost, she had no choice either. For who would willingly choose to live on the road, without roots and without lasting companionship? Only one without a family, without a future. Yet there was one glaring difference between them - she was not burdened as Aragost was. Casswyn only had to look after herself, to look after Uvaer, and to scrape by. Thus far, she had managed, but at times only just - she bore scars from some of her close calls. When Aragost finished speaking, he looked over to her and Casswyn met his eyes with her own. Despite the now sombre tone of their discourse, Casswyn was very much enjoying conversing with Aragost, and she was touched that he had chosen to confide his true identity in her and to share the threats that his people faced.

“You lead a hard life, Aragost, I only wish I could lighten your burden,” Casswyn said sincerely after a pause, “And I am sorry that you, and your people, do not get the recognition you rightly deserve.”

Casswyn glanced at Aragost's blade, still hanging sheathed at his hip. What battles had it seen? What blood had it spilled? That sword had probably seen things that she, a young Rohirrim, could not possibly dream of. And at what age had he first picked up a weapon? Who had taught him to fight? There was another difference between them, for she had been taught to wield a sword by her father. Not a knight, not a hero, not even a soldier. Instead, a common farmer with a heart much too big for his chest. But Casswyn was eternally grateful to Fastred, for he had not beaten the unruliness out of her, like many other men might have done, and the lessons he had given her had kept her alive this long. But Casswyn was getting lost in her own thoughts and she quickly drew her attention back to Aragost, recalling that he had said that there were few of his kind left.

“Do you have a family waiting for you back in the North?” she asked quietly. Casswyn had, to an extent, lost her fear of offending Aragost with her curiosity. After all, if he did not want to answer her questions he did not have to. Casswyn briefly wondered what life must be like for the wives of the Dúnedain, waiting at home for months on end with neither sight nor sound of their husbands, not even knowing if they were living or dead.

[Aragost]

Aragost had lost himself in thought once again whenever she started speaking once again. He did not really mind her questions. In truth it was rather nice to have a normal person to actually speak with. Most of the time he was alone and always a little paranoid that someone or something was going to jump out at him. He did not sleep much really; it was hard to whenever you were by yourself. Too much sleep would often time lead to your own demise, but not enough sleep would cause you to be slow in battle and not as aware whenever tracking your enemy. It was a two edged sword really. Luckily for Aragost it was one that he had learned to balance rather well.

He took a breath after he heard her ask about his family. That was a good question. What family was more like it? He laughed just a little and shook his head and smiled just a little bit at her as he set the remainder of his food down before he spoke.

“No, I have no family back home. In truth, it would not be fair to them. I am never at home, and honestly, I live under the constant threat of death. That is not something that I would wish upon any woman, let alone any children that I might bare. Perhaps that is the reason that our line was withered. There are too many men like myself. Their duties lead them away from the lives that they seek. There are those however that take wives and have children obviously. The line of the men of Numenor must carry on. Alas, however, it seems that there are fewer of us each year and it is not an encouraging thought.” He shook his head once more as he wrapped up the food that he had not eaten and then stood back to his feet and walked over to his horse and placed the remains of his meal in the saddlebag for another day.

He stood there for a moment, dwelling on what he had just said. He had had many years on his own to think about those exact words and it was not encouraging. It was his fate however, to be alone, and he had accepted it. He turned and walked back over to where they had been sitting and sat down and stroked the fire. It was burning low now, not much more than a warm glow in the darkness. The light was flickering only really enough for them in the glade.

“ I do not mean to speak so much and burden you with my problems.” He said softly after another moment or two. “ Go ahead now and get some rest. I shall take watch.. Tomorrow we shall set you on your course, whatever it may be..” He said with a slight smile as he looked over at her once again and went back to prying at the fire with the stick he had been using..

[cassiopeia]

It was good to hear Aragost laugh, even if it was just a little, and Casswyn returned his smile with one of her own. Listening to his answer, Casswyn quickly realised her question had warranted a laugh because he, like her, was alone in this world. Not because he did not want a family of his own but because he was kind enough to think of the hardship his duties would bring his wife and their children, if they had any. No-one knew better than Casswyn that children were never guaranteed. The Rohirrim woman watched with solemn eyes as Aragost made his way over to Beren. It made Casswyn's heart heavy to think that a man as brave, generous and considerate as Aragost might not live to experience the pleasure of fatherhood. When he returned and expressed his reluctance to bother Casswyn with his problems, the young rider was quick to respond.

“You are a kind man,” Casswyn said fondly, “And you do not burden me.” It was a sincere statement, for Casswyn was enthralled with what he had to tell her, though she did wish there could be more love and laughter in Aragost's life.

Casswyn saw no reason to protest Aragost's suggestion, for the night had truly fallen and the moon was rising fast. She rose a moment, gathered the remaining food, and headed back to the horses one last time before sleep. Casswyn stored the food away, taking a moment to pet Uvaer, before retrieving from the saddlebags another two blankets. These were thinner and smaller than the one she had laid on the ground but they were much better than nothing. Returning to where Aragost sat, she dropped one blanket on the rug where she would sleep and then gently draped the other around Aragost's strong shoulders.

“Wake me in a few hours so that you might have some rest too,” she murmured, “Good night, Aragost.”

Casswyn settled herself on the rug, unbelting her sword and laying it within arm's reach on the ground beside her, before wrapping the blanket about her. At first lay on her back, her green eyes gazing at the stars. She played over the events of the day, marvelling at how things had panned out, and pondered what tomorrow would bring. He had said that they would set her on her course and Casswyn wondered what that course might be. She rather hoped that tomorrow would not see her saying farewell to Aragost, for it would please her a great deal if they shared the road awhile. But then, her company might hold him back from his duties. As sleepiness began to come over her, Casswyn turned onto her side, gazing at the embers of the fire that Aragost was tending to. Occasionally her eyes drifted to Aragost himself, watching the light of the fire dance in his eyes. Casswyn felt remarkably safe and content and, not long after lying down, sleep claimed her.

[Aragost]

Aragost turned his head and looked back at her for a moment and nodded his head in thanks as he pulled the blanket a little further over his shoulders and took a deep breath as she told him to wake her in a few hours so that he could get to sleep. He already knew his answer to that statement but he kept it to himself. He heard her go settle down and go to sleep and after a few tosses and turns he could hear her calm and relaxed breathing to indicate that she was in fact asleep. He pried at the fire for a little while long under it was nothing more than just a light glow in the darkness. He could feel his eyes quickly adjusting to the dark as they were so accustomed to. After another few moments he stood to his feet and walked the perimeter of the camp making sure that they were not in for any surprises. He could see the horizon just a little. The running plains of Rohan stretching on for miles in every direction. You couldn’t ask for much better protection really. Any good lookout could spot someone from a good distance away. It might take a little more training at night but it could mostly be done with anyone of his race. He nodded to himself and then went back to the fire and sat down…

The sun rose in the sky, sending a pink sunrise across the Eastern horizon. Aragost was not to be found near the campground. He was out and about doing his own bit of investigating. There had been strange noises in the night and he was currently looking for tracks. There were trees around the glade with provided them a good amount of cover however something had seemed amiss last night. He had gotten up and investigated during the night of course but had been unable to find any tracks. Perhaps he was just being paranoid, but, he also trusted his instincts and thus made sure to follow up on his previous notion. He had not found anything as of yet but that did not mean it was not there. The light was growing better and if there were tracks he would find them. He knew he was a decent distance from the campground and was more than likely not in view of Cass, but she had had a trying day the day before and would likely sleep many hours into the morning..

[cassiopeia]

Casswyn was dreaming, though she did not realise it. In her dream, she stood on a great, rolling plain that stretched on and on as far as the eye could see, in all directions. The only landmark was a single solitary tree, dead by the look of it, its bare branches cutting harshly into the entirely uniform blue sky. In its shadow there was the small, hunched figure of a child. A little girl and a Rohirrim, judging by her mane of dirty-blonde hair. Casswyn made her way over, her dream self not remotely bothered by the absence of her steed but vaguely concerned that a child should be out here all alone. Wherever here might be. Wherever it was, it was unnaturally quiet - no birds sang and no wind whispered through the grass. Arriving at the tree, the child stood with her back to Casswyn. “Little girl?” Casswyn inquired, suddenly feeling ill-at-ease, and, when the child turned around, Casswyn's heart leapt into her mouth. She could not fail to recognise the green eyes that glared at her with defiance and mistrust, the tangled dirty-blonde hair, the face smudged with dirt, the small fist clenched tight whilst the other clutched a small wooden sword! Casswyn stared, breathless at her younger self, a strange pain in her heart.

It was then that, in reality, the sleeping Casswyn drew breath sharply, waking herself up. It took a moment for her to remember where she was and how she had come to be here. Sitting up, Casswyn looked about, noting the grey light of dawn. Feeling a little guilty, Casswyn realised that Aragost had failed to wake her. This did not exactly surprise her, she ought to have known that he was too noble a soul to wake a woman in the middle of the night and have her take watch. In hindsight, she would have done well to insist on taking the first shift – it would have been the only way to ensure the man got some rest.

Speaking of Aragost, where exactly was he? It was not that he had jilted her, for Beren still stood at the edge of the glade with Uvaer. The young rider rubbed her eyes sleepily and the stretched, throwing her arms above her head and arching her back. An ache had settled into her bones, no doubt from the cold bite of morning dew, but once she was up and moving it would leave her. Rising to her feet, Casswyn lifted her sword from its sheath lazily, out of habit more than anything else, and meandered towards the tree line in search of her companion. Once she found Aragost she would encourage him to rest, it was still early in the morning so he might be able to get a few hours of sleep before they had to move on. But what could possibly have drawn him away from the camp? Away from the fireside? Surely nothing good. A twinge of anxiety rippled through Casswyn.

“Aragost?” Casswyn called softly, for though they were close to Edoras it never seemed wise to make any more noise than was needed, “Are you there?”