Ranger's Apprentice: The Tantalizing Tales

Until Death Do Us Part

The moon shone brightly in the dark night sky. Stars sparkled just about everywhere, and the chilliness in the air was a welcome contrast to the humidity of the previous day. Nevertheless, the young woman standing outside on the clearing was slowly starting to get cold. A young man walked up to her from behind. His approach made no sound, and so when he got close enough he let out a soft "hey" so as not to startle the woman.

The hug that followed was a simple enough gesture - his strong arms wrapped around her in a warm embrace. She smiled, moved her hands up to meet his but didn't turn around. Instead, she leaned against him, her gaze up to the stars above them. Will rested his chin on her shoulder, but his eyes followed her gaze up. His newly-wed wife sighed.

"Don't you ever have to stop everything for a moment just to think about how we got where we are?"

"What do you mean?"

Alyss squeezed his arms. "Think about it... if Halt would have just decided to join the forces at another spot, he'd never met your father."

"If he'd even met Crowley," Will acknowledged, "And if Morgarath's coup wouldn't have been any more effective. If your parents hadn't passed away... Guess we've got something to thank Morgarath for." Their cheeks against each other's, Will felt her lips move up in a smile. After a few seconds, Alyss continued.

"It's not just that, though. You could've died a hundred times and in none of those situations would I have been standing here with you now. There were so many other possible outcomes, each depending on another movement, another decision, some of them dating back so many years. It's almost as if fate wanted us to end up here, together."

Now it was Will's time to smile. "Almost," he whispered. Alyss freed herself from his embrace and turned around to face him. He noticed she never let go of his hands.

"You don't believe in fate?"
"I'm not sure I believe in anything, fate or God. I only believe in my own senses."

"And what are your senses telling you?" Their fingers linked and their eyes met. He could feel her warm breath on his lips and gently pulled her closer. Freeing one hand, his thumb softly caressed her cheek.

"That I love you. And that I'll always love you. That all those other possible outcomes don't matter. We are where we are, nothing can and nothing will change that. And I wouldn't have it any other way. I will risk my life another hundred times if it means that in the end, I will be coming home to you. And now that we're married, I have the opportunity to love you hopelessly, endlessly, unconditionally, for every day until death does us part. And I will. Always."

They gazed into each other's eyes, their lips just the tiniest bit apart so that small clouds of condensed breath were visible. Until their lips met, in a kiss that said more than a thousand words ever could. That said that even death could not make them part.

~~~

A small fire was cackling under an inky sky, illuminating a man nearing his fifties, sitting legs crossed on the dry grass. A circle of stones was placed around it to prevent the clearing from lighting up, but sparks escaped the yellow-orange flames regularly and the man paid close attention that the paper in his hands, though crumbled and faded, did not catch fire.

His hands were shaking. Wet spots appeared on the already damaged parchment but when he searched the sky for clouds, they weren't there. Something wet rolled over his cheek, into his beard, and a moment later he tasted something salty. Will sniffed and rubbed his eyes with one hand.

He had been doing fine for weeks, months even. Though his heart still ached, every time again, when he thought about her, he knew that, if he had been in her shoes, he would have done the same thing without the slightest hesitation. Because of this, he had learned to accept, to move on - but he had never managed to heal himself.

And then he found this.

His eyes scanned the parchment. Although the ink was faded and the paper was covered in all sorts of stains with, as a result, the letters almost unreadable, Will knew exactly what it said. Even with tears rolling down and a blurred vision, he knew the words. After all, he had written them.

As his eyes scanned the document, his lips moving along in inaudible reading, a cold hand clutched his heart. And squeezed, harder and harder until it crumbled and blood slipped through. He was bleeding, bleeding out, and had been ever since the realisation that Alyss wasn't coming back had dawned on him. Even now, a good three years later, the thought of what they had been bereft off punched him, breaking his bones, and the bandages that had been applied over the months were only barely holding him together.

When he finished, he tilted his head, his eyes seeking the stars that they had shared for so long. His hand clutched the paper. Breaths came raggedly, as the last line seemed to haunt him, flowing through his veins and taking over his body.

Until death do us part.

Except he still loved her. And undoubtedly would until his own final breaths.

Will sunk back into the grass and closed his eyes, allowing panicked grief to invade.

As he lay there, seemingly calm from the outside but with his head racing and heart pounding, a light appeared, tiny in the black spots that had clouded his vision. As it grew and approached, features became visible and Will felt there was something oddly familiar about it.

It was Alyss.

There was nothing dreamy or glowing about her, now that he had recognised his lost wife. Carrying herself erect in her long white dress, it was simply Alyss. Her hands lined his face, ice cold on his burning cheeks. Although there was a smile on her face, it was a sad smile, and there was detectable sadness in her eyes, one so desperate as he had never seen before on her and it caused a lump in his throat that made speech impossible. Yet there was a level of mutual understanding between them, running so deeply that the silence provided all that was felt, and she gently stroked his hair away from his face.

Will could feel her fingers wiping away the tears that were still silently disappearing into his beard. He could feel her warm breath, that silenced him.

And he could feel when she moved forward and their lips softly touched.

But when he opened his eyes, she wasn't there.

In a sudden wave of new determination, Will pushed himself up and ripped the last line off of the parchment. He stared at it for a while, trying to gather himself, still feeling her soft kiss on his lips. He sniffed one last time, wiped away the last tears and deeply breathed in, and out.

Then tossed the smaller piece of paper into the fire.

Not until death did them part. But beyond.