I am Hal of the Dúnedain

and I fear a CAGE.
W 
ord: Desire

Desire. A feeling that could help but also harm.

‘It won’t hurt anyone if I keep my desire to myself.’
Depending on what the desired item or who the desired person may be, sometimes that feeling can grow out of control without even being noticed.

Desires could easily pit brother against brother; family against family; friend against friend.
Breaking apart marriages and friendships years old. Everyone had their wants and desires. It was rare to find someone who didn’t have a desire for anything, even the simplest things like falling in love.

And yet, for decades, folk often thought that was the case for the mostly silent Esteldin Commander.

Quiet and cold, Hal was the Ranger who people went to when they needed something done. Much like a ghost when she didn’t want to be seen, no one would know of her presence unless she thought it necessary. And nor did she waste time into getting to the point, much to the amusement of Rohan’s King, Theoden.

But should anyone try to get a conversation going about feelings and desires, the Bree raised Dúnedan would close down completely and that would be the end of discussion.

Except for this one time.

“Do you remember that conversation we had here on the docks, when I was just 10 years old?”

A seemingly random question for anyone else if they heard but not for Hal. For she very clearly remembered talking to the once young boy, during a mission to the coastal city of Pelargir. “I do. Did you manage to become one of the Rangers, like you wanted to?” Conversation while she started to send her kin back towards the ships, like Aragorn had asked.

The scarred Gondorian grinned, a unusual sight for those of the city residents who knew him as a scowling man. But for many of them also, it was rather welcome too. “I did and I loved it but injuries stopped me doing anymore missions, so I returned here. What about you?”

Hal wasn’t much of a speaker at the best of times but when it came to her own desires, she didn’t see the point in saying them out loud. Only this occasion, that altered. “Mine have never changed through the years, barring one. But I won’t ever say it, because I have no desire to hurt two of my friends. Especially since one of them is my closest friend and also my leader.”

It didn’t take long for realisation to kick in and the former Ranger of the South nodded, understanding what wasn’t being said. But nothing else was spoken about the matter as they were coming back to the docks, where men were getting onto the ships. “Hopefully we’ll meet again and go for a drink in one of the taverns.”

“That would be good. It’s time for me to go though, so I’ll see you around.” She nodded to him and headed to the main flagship, walking alongside Aragorn.

As he watched the ships disappear into the horizon towards Minas Tirith, the lone Gondorian thought over the body language of both Hal and the man he knew mainly as Thorongil. It was then he realised what was bothering him about both Northerners and a quiet unfamiliar chuckle sounded.

For he knew that despite his friend’s long years, she hadn’t worked out that the only one who Aragorn, the Heir of Isildur, wanted… was HER.