Author's Note: I find that as of now, I have come to the conclusion that I rather strongly dislike my life. In response to that feeling, my writing has been a little rougher, and angrier as of late. (i.e. independent/rebellion Harry fics, Miona torture, etc.) It came as no surprise to me when I sat down and simply could not write this story. It was like wading through mud while trying to catch a rabbit with rocket launchers on it. But I did try to write this story, at two o'clock in the morning, and on the way to see doctor's, and even on the way to the hospital, and on the way to my MRI. And this was the result of that chapter. I apologize in advance for any "f's" that do not show up in the chapter, I think I caught them all but may have missed a few- my keyboard has been sticking lately.

Oh yeah. And remember how I said I was sick waaay back in May? I'm still sick. And it's past the ides of July.

Sad me. Sorry about the pity rant.

I have past decided that a few days turns into a few weeks when I'm concerned, so I'll just try to say that I'll do my best to type the next chapter on the plane on Wednesday.

Final warnings! I will be changing my author name soon, to Victoria LeRoux. And as far as I can tell, torture in chapter nine.

Disclaimer: Not mine. If it was mine, the tenth book would never have seen the light of day. Ick.

Dedication: Shara Raizel

A Question of Honor
Chapter Seven

"Friendly Interrogations"

The man sat on the fallen log, his head in his hands. On his knees lay a simple longbow, by his side lay a pack that was nearly empty. Around him, the forest teemed with energy as the nightlife was brought out in the light of the moon. A casual observer may have noted that he was alone, but the man knew that was not the case. He was never truly alone.

A series of hoofprints led away from his, winding back to where he had come from. When he had reached this tranquil clearing, he had sent his mount away from him, back towards home and safety. He felt as though he had brought enough peril to his friends lately.

The man was a mess, from his blood-soaked breeches to his gaunt face. He looked more like a boy than anything else when his face fell into the light. But this man, he was not a boy. He had outlived too many things to ever be called such again. It was his eyes that would correct the casual observer from calling him young. It was his eyes that bespoke of pain that could not be survived.

Behind the man, a newcomer emerged, and only verbalized a single sentence that spoke not of surprise, but only of weary resignation. "You came after all, Ranger Will Treaty."

Will Treaty did not turn his head, but instead opened his eyes to see his slightly shaking hands. Already the poison takes away false strength, his mind whispered to him. Already you begin to fail, to falter once again. He did his best to ignore the seed of doubt, and instead sighed. "Did I even have a choice?"

"If you do not mind death, you always have a choice," replied the assassin cryptically. If Will had turned, he would have seen the pity dance across his face. Yet the Ranger still had his eyes on his increasingly-shaking hands, and continued to think of his attacker as a faceless monster.

"I prefer living," the words sprang unbidden from his lips, but as were most impulsive thoughts, the statement was true enough. A soft chuckle caused the Ranger to stiffen, but he relaxed momentarily at the next words that broke the stillness.

"As do I," Aranhil's dry tones caused the Ranger to sigh. "But you seem the sort that does not mind dying, if only under the correct banner."

Will stiffened, and whipped around, his eyes suspicious and angry. For a moment, they widened in a startled acknowledgement of Aranhil's grotesque appearance, but when he recovered himself his words were steely and unyielding. "I serve no banner but the Ranger's."

"I have told my employer," the word had a mocking lilt to it when Aranhil voiced it, "much the same. But he is ever-so determined to have you serve him in whichever way you consent to, willingly or no. I will tell you this once, Ranger Will Treaty, and I hope you never give me cause to consider repeating it. My employer-"

"Your master, you mean," Will snapped, and Aranhil paused for a moment, eventually inclining his head slightly to the Ranger.

"If you wish to call him my master in some misguided attempt at angering me, you may. In the interest of time, I shall consent to agreeing with you for a brief amount of time. My master-" the same mocking lilt as the one that had appeared at the word employer penetrated his tones, "-will break you. He breaks all, eventually, given enough time. He will try you, and test you, and if he has to, he shall shatter you in more pieces than you can imagine."

The Ranger gulped, but Aranhil swept forward, his eyes narrowing as he pushed past Will's comfort level for proximity as dark brown eyes met light hazel.

"He will do everything that is in his power to make you serve him, and there is nothing that is not in his power. He will go after everyone you care for, anything you hold dear. He will break them if he must, because he will believe that to break them is to break you. Do you understand me, Ranger Will Treaty? If you believe that you alone shall not break, know that others have believed the same and fallen readily enough. If you desire a swift death, and mercy, he will not grant it to you." Here Aranhil sighed, and closed his eyes briefly while he appeared to come to a decision. "And if you desire it, and ask it of me, I will grant you that mercy."

The clearing was silent for a few moments, then Will nodded, seemingly overcome with the realization of the events around him. Then the Ranger nodded, eyes thoughtful.

"I will offer the same to you."

Aranhil nodded, but said nothing on the subject, instead gesturing to the mare that stood patiently on the side of the clearing.

"Mount up Ranger, we don't want to be late."

The ship rolled and tumbled beneath them, the waves around her occasionally sending her pitching suddenly. Aranhil relaxed into the voyage, even when the ship would drop beneath his feet after a particularly large wave lifted the vessel. The waves were a soft comfort to the man, and he closed his eyes as he felt his body roll with the sea.

He wasn't entirely sure why he was this relaxed, after the words spoken earlier between he and the Ranger. He wasn't quite ashamed that he was beginning to consider the Ranger a fool for offering mercy.

Weakness would get someone killed under their master. It was something that would be beaten out of the Ranger soon enough.

Weakness... Despite himself, Aranhil felt a small flash of amusement that caused a smile to tug at his lips. Evidently, being around a host of fools had infected him. If the Ranger told his master about his brief moment of pity, the life he'd struggled so hard to keep would end in a long, brutal fashion.

The quiet hold of the smuggler's was soon broken softly by the Ranger.

"Baransson*," the word hesitated briefly on the man's lips, and Aranhil allowed his head to tip to the side so he could glance at his prisoner.

When it seemed as though Will wasn't going to continue, Aranhil prompted him on with a soft, "Yes?"

"Baransson," The Ranger** repeated, grabbing his faltering confidence once again. Before he could continue, Aranhil could not help but to interrupt.

"My name is Aranhil. See to it that you use it." Aranhil was aware that his tone was slightly frosty, but the name of his father drew his thoughts to the end of the journey, and a conclusion that seemed inevitable.

"Er- Yes, my apologies," Will took a shuddering breath and finally completed his question. "Where are we travelling to?"

Aranhil briefly considered a snarky, not entirely truthful response to the question- Our deaths, worst nightmare, the land of frolicking flowers and abhorrent alliterations, et cetera- but settled for the simplest, most truthful but least troubling explanation. "Eira.* it is a decently sized island located off the coast of-"

"Celtica, I am aware, as well as being south of Araluen," The Ranger murmured softly. Aranhil found himself watching the Ranger curiously, wondering what he was thinking. It became evident soon enough, because the Ranger continued with his line of questioning. "What is on the island?"

Aranhil found himself smiling wistfully as he thought of his home. "Rocks and caves. Swyddned abandoned the isle when mining proved to be lacking in profit, and some villagers never abandoned it. It had a thriving community for a time, and was self-sufficient. It was never annexed-"

"-Because King Swyddned and King Duncan found that Morgarath briefly used it as his command point, and thus would drain too many resources to attack," the Ranger stated confidently, and Aranhil found himself smirking.

"Incorrect. My people found that it was useful to foster such rumors to avoid paying taxes."

Aranhil's smirk vanished as the Ranger opened his mouth once again. "How long will the journey take?"

In the name of Camulos, does he ever stop asking questions?

*Baransson is the complied version of "Baran's son". Basically, Aranhil's surname because he's a commoner and all. Gilan told Will the man's name between chapters 6 and 7.

**Aranhil's use of the word "ranger" in his thoughts, rather than Will's name is his attempt to distance himself from what he's doing.

*Eira is an adaptation of the word Éire, a Celtic nation. As the unnamed island I chose is off the canon-Celtica, (see map of Araluen) I decided that a bastardized Celtic name would suit well enough. And I was listening to Enya at the time, and the song playing was entitled "the Celts" soo. Yeah.

*Swyddned was briefly mentioned as being the King of Celtica.

*Camulos is a god of war and sky.

Final A/N: I deeply apologize for any OOCishness. After rereading book 10, in which characters seemed OOC (and that was canon!) and uncommonly... strange, and it was incredibly lacking in the Rangers, I find it harder to continue to have a firm grasp on the array. However, I am trying to return to book nine's characters, and mine/Flanagan's should reconcile soon (I hope.)

Thank you to the following for inspiring me in your loveliness: SharaRaziel, (may I say once again that I love you?) Lovemusic2, (I'll do my best not to disappoint ^.^, and thank you) GodricsRanger, (but... but... loving the enemy is fun) Lilwen, (thank you. :) I did so enjoy writing him, and pain is lovely.) Alyss Mainwaring (I certainly hope I shall live long, be happy, and remain as ugly as ever :)) CheerfullyBlue, (thank you:) I definitely have plans to do so) Xbamsod (there's nothing like a good make-up exam for missing to pile on stress) Esmeralda Diane Parker (Grizzly papa bear time)

Thank you all once again. I love you all and appreciate the time it takes for you to review. Sorry about the long A/N and any mistakes once again.

Next Chapter: Halt is most certainly not happy.