There was nothing but strained silence and a quiet desire to kill within the medical wing hallway. Talion and Idril, like a pair of inpatient predators, paced the opposite sides of the echoing hallway. Baranor sat on a chair, next to a pair of wooden doors, face in his hands. His voice was very much tired and impatient sounding.
"Could you two stop pacing?"
"No."
"Why should I?"
Baranor, unfazed by the growls, lifted his face out of his hands, looking more and more tired by the minute.
"You two pacing around just makes me more nervous."
Both gave a heavier growl than before, but, to his credit, Talion stopped his pacing while Idril's only intensified.
"It helps calm ME down!"
Baranor signed, knowing that his request was futile.
"And yet it's not helping Redd and the group of rangers led."
Another set of growls followed.
"And yet all we can do is just stand around, still not contributing anything to their unforeseeable recovery."
Talion crossed his arms as his furious gaze fixated upon the wooden door to Baranor's side.
"What's taking so long?"
With a heavy sigh, Talion fell into a chair opposite Baranor, absentmindedly fiddling with the silver ring on his hand as Idril finally stopped her pacing. Both her and Baranor fell silent for a moment, watching the shining band, it is carved elven scripts lightly pulsing with green light.
"You know that there's a verse about the ring, right?"
Idril's voice carried carefully through the hallway as a somewhat amused smirk appeared upon the nazgûl's face, yet not reaching his hellish eyes.
"Oh my, already? That did not take long. And what exactly does the verse say?"
One of Baranor's brows rose.
"You don't know the verse?"
"I thought that was obvious."
Idril's brows almost audibly furrowed.
"But it was written on the doors of your then tomb."
"It might have. But, then again, I was on the other side of said door."
Idril finally sat down next to Baranor, just as she followed Talion's example and fixed her furious gaze upon, still closed, wooden medical wing doors. The heavy silence was only lifted by the elder Haradrim.
"Would you be able to read it if we showed you?"
Talion, finally, shifted his gaze from the door and onto the ceiling, for a moment deep in thought.
"Well... That depends on the script as well as the language of..."
Talion suddenly shot up from his seat, immediately followed by the confused Idril and Baranor.
"What's happening?"
Baranor's question fell on deaf ears as the nazgûl was transfixed upon the medical bay door. It took what seemed like an eternity for the door to finally open and reveal the three healers. The two men and an orc stood nervously before the leaders of Mordor, deciding that the floor was far more intriguing.
"Well?... How are they doing?"
The healers exchanged knowing looks before turning to the worried ranger and his companions. The elder man of the group of healers spoke.
"They're alive, but the condition that they're in... It is best if you see for yourselves."
Suddenly, heavy, and fast steps could be heard down the hall which only stopped after carrying their owner into a crash with Talion's back armour. The nazgûl carefully untangled Ralla out of his cloak before finally turning to her.
"Where were you?"
Idril's voice seemed concerned on the surface but carried suspicion within for anybody who is looking to see. Ralla was obviously confused.
"What?"
"Considering your... infatuation with Redd, we thought you'd be here sooner."
Ralla unceremoniously frowned at Talion, her words dripping poison.
"I was busy."
Keeping his face as neutral as possible, the ranger turned on his heel and went after the nervous healers into the bastion's halls of healing, closely followed by the three human soldiers.
The halls of healing, thankfully, were not as crowded as usual, with only a few wounded and a couple sick laying in the beds around them. The healers took them to the far end of the halls where the rangers lay motionless. Their eyes were half open, absently staring at the chandelier above their heads. They were as pail as Talion, their eyes all glossy black with something akin to a pale light behind them. Whenever it being unnatural or just their consciousness shining through was difficult to tell.
Ralla sat next to Redd, carefully caressing his hand as Baranor and Idril checked on the rest of the rangers. Talion remained standing next to the healers, not able to bring himself to join the others. His voice was mostly neutral but carried an underlying tone of anger and hopelessness.
"What happened to them?"
The oldest healer shifted slightly.
"We do not know. Physically speaking, their perfectly fine. They have no injuries besides a few bruises. By all rights they should be up and running, but it seems as if they returned only in bodies, not in minds."
"Could the escaped gondorians have been responsible or even contracted the same... disease?"
The old healer stroked his grey beard as the orc of the group carefully came forward.
"It's doubtful, boss. They most probably just ran away without knowin' 'bout the rangers."
Talion's only response was to nod his head in approval. The serene moment was broken however, by the muffled angry shouts and cries outside, the courtyard by the sounds of it. Talion shot the stained windows an uneasy glare, trying to catch as much of what was being said as possible.
"Ralla, what did you say you were doing before getting here?"
The captain in question growled, her furious gaze grazing the nazgûl only momentarily.
"Why?"
"You were the last to come. He is asking because you have most likely seen something that could have brought them here. So, please, just answer him, will you?"
Baranor's voice seemed to get increasingly tired by the second and yet Ralla tore her angry gaze away from the distracted nazgûl and flashed the greying Haradrim a bright smile.
"I brought them here."
"What?! Why would you do that?"
Her smile halved after registering Baranor's displeasure but hardened her disposition the moment she felt Talion's eyes burning a hole through her. The young captain held her nose high, huffing with annoyance.
"To hunt the gondorians down for what they've done, of course."
"Why of course."
To Ralla's absolute annoyance, Talion's voice was heavy with sarcasm, not being able to suppress his hopeless laughter. Talion ignored her angry complaints as he turned to Baranor and Idril.
"As much as it pains me to say this, our main priority has to be calming down the crowds, not our rangers."
Ralla immediately shot up from her place only to be stopped in her tracks by Idril's furious looking face.
"What are you doing? He doesn't even care about Re..."
"Do you actually believe that, or do you just want somebody to blame?"
Talion turned his back to the enraged youngster as he walked to the heavy wooden door, his voice stretching outwards without effort.
"You will stay here. Your punishment will be decided after we calm down the citizens."
"What I did was just! The people have the right to know these things and take revenge on those Gondorian swines! I do not deserve to be punished for that!"
Talion stopped at the threshold of the halls of healing, the usually warm and cosy room becoming cold and uninviting as if thrown into a frozen river. It was that feeling or the fact that the medical wing fell into a deadly silence that, in Ralla's mind's eye, tore on the scraps of the humanity Talion had left, making him seem like a true demon. Ralla was paralyzed the moment her eyes met the fiery green pits of the nazgûl.
"That belief is why you cannot be allowed to escape the consequences of your actions as you have before. Stay here. You will be dealt with soon enough."
The silence persistent as Talion, Idril and Baranor left the halls, leaving the patients staring at the embarrassed and angered captain Ralla.
~°•°~
The crowd screamed and chanted over itself, ending up with an almost unintelligible mess of voices crushing upon Talion and his small group of emissaries like the waves of an enraged ocean upon a rocky cliffside.
Despite the citizens wielding torches and whatever sturdy household tools they took on the way to the bastion, the guards, even though not being happy about it, stood back and watched their leaders take on the mob.
Idril and Baranor were doing their best to quiet the crowd down peacefully and yet failing spectacularly. Dûsh growled quietly, moving himself between his lord and the impatient peasantry, preparing himself for a battle. He was not prepared for how tired Talion's voice seemed thought.
"It's fine, Dûsh. They might be angry, but I sense no will for violence."
The orc captain, despite his discontent with the situation, nodded and made his best attempt of relaxing his posture, yet still standing between his boss and the crowd, to the apparent discontent of the nazgûl, judging by the reverbed sigh that escaped him. Dûsh knew that his growing headache was no excuse for anger, but damn that if the crowd does not quiet down immediately.
"Would everybody, please, just SHUT UP ALREADY?!"
Silence.
"Thank you!"
Silence once more. Though heavier.
"Thank you for your... assistance, Dûsh. We won't be needing it further on though."
"Of course, boss."
Dûsh's response was short but upbeat, thanks to the fact that, despite the stone-cold mask that Talion presented, the orc captain was still able to recognise amusement and suppressed laughter within the nazgûl's voice.
Talion turned to the group of about two hundred, his outer resolve hardening.
"Please, do not talk over each other, otherwise we can't understand you. Let only one speak at a time and show your support by... I do not know... raising your hand, for example. Understood?"
For s few moments, there was murmuring within the group, before all hands raised up.
"Good. Now, please, tell us what has angered you enough to march upon the bastion."
One of the citizens stepped forward, dressed in blue and brown, probably a builder. He gave Dûsh a nervous glance before looking straight at the nazgûl behind the captain, his resolve weakening a little the moment his eyes met the fiery green.
"We wish to avenge the ranges, sir, for what the gondorians did to them."
"What the gondorians... the gondorians escaped, that much we can confirm, but nothing else beyond that."
Idril's statement started another round of murmuring within the group, thought palpably less angry and more uncertain.
"Then we're allowed to go back to visiting the sick?"
"In about two days' time you will, after which we will also provide you with all the information we'll gain. I'll also be available for consultation and assistance for three days after as to compensate for my absence tomorrow."
Another wave of murmurs washed over the crowd as the people started dispersing.
~°•°~
Some reassurances and last answers later, barely anybody was left within the courtyard. Idril and Dûsh went off to do how knows what which left Baranor knowing that there will not be a better moment to speak to the nazgûl and yet being utterly terrified of the prospect. It seems, however, that the world has already decided for him.
"Baranor."
The Haradrim gave an exhausted sigh.
"Not here. Inside."
Talion gave a nod before making his way towards his tower. Baranor stood in the fresh air, trying his best to suck up as much of the peaceful ambience of the city as possible, in preparation for the unavoidable conversation.
The sun reached the peak of its daily journey when the elder Haradrim finally decided to face the nazgûl. His footsteps grew more menacing then ever as Baranor walked through the vast halls of the bastion. It felt like an eternity has come and gone before he finally reached the heavy doors of Talion's chambers. He half expected them to creak diabolically as he pushed them open.
Surprisingly enough, besides Talion himself, he found Idril there as well discussing something with the fallen ranger. Their conversation ended abruptly as the steward of Mordor up and left the moment she spotted Baranor, only giving a short bow as the nazgûl did the same.
There was a moment of heavy silence between the Haradrim and the nazgûl as Baranor found his throat to be more sore than usual.
"Who is she?"
Baranor raised a brow.
"What?"
"Ralla. Whose child is she because she most definitely did not gain the rank of a captain without having relatives in high places. Who is she?"
Baranor huffed.
"That's a big assumption."
"And yet one that comes out of experience."
Baranor finally took a seat, finding himself on the same eye-level as Talion. Not that it helped the captain.
"She only advocates we share the intelligence we gain throughout this investigation instead of concealing it."
"Yes, she and you both say so and yet all she shared with the public were rage-fuelled speculations based upon something she had close to no knowledge of."
"I'm sure she didn't mean to..."
"She openly admitted to spreading 'her version of the truth' with violence against prisoners of war in mind."
A heavy silence stretched between the duo, making them both unwilling to continue arguing.
"Is she yours?"
"No, Jagai's."
"Good. Then she can go back to Lithlad and Serka if she wants to keep her military status."
"What happened to the one she has here?"
"I relieved her of it."
Baranor's imitation of a fish did not amuse as Talion's resolve hardened further.
"Why? Isn't that too harsh for a single misconduct?"
Talion frowned.
"You know this isn't just because of what happened today."
Baranor exhaled heavily, hiding his face in the palms of his hands.
"What about the political ramifications? Her parents are not going to..."
"THAT... is precisely why she can't stay within the army. Her continuing to command ANY part of the forces would be seen as us valuing family connections above the hard earned right of leadership."
"And I understand your reasoning but leaving her as a civilian isn't going to do us any good either."
Baranor slowly looked back up only to find the same exhaustion upon Talion's face as he felt for the past few months.
"I'm sure we'll find something for her to do without holding any active power."
"How about you let her enlist again, not as a captain but as a low-ranking soldier making her earn the title while being humbled by the process or leave on her own?"
Talion thought on the idea for a short while, making Baranor think he might refuse. The determination in those fiery pits, however, lifted his spirits almost immediately. The nazgûl nodded lightly leaning back in his chair.
"That does sound fair. But she'll have to go through it just like everybody else does, including basic training and living within accommodations issued for the military."
"Of course."
With Talion getting up and opening one of the windows, Baranor stood up as well aiming to leave the plane looking rooms.
"Baranor?"
The Haradrim in question, already holding the door handle, looked around at the nazgûl, who was now under assault of four small drakelings with another one already crawling up Baranor's tight. Talion, however, either did not seem to notice or ignored the curious hatchlings, instead his concentrating only upon his general.
"You did what you could to protect her. This situation is her own fault and nobody else's. Not even yours."
Baranor simply nodded.
"Thank you."
Talion gave him a sad smile before making his way back to his desk and paperwork, ignorant of the drake hatchlings seemingly playing their version of catch in the hood of his teared-up cloak and on his heavily armoured shoulders. Baranor did his best to return the light smile as went out of the room and finally closed the door. He leaned against a nearby wall unhooking the drakeling off his chest plate. The drake nestled itself in Baranor's arms, enjoying every bit of attention given. Baranor stroked it is spotted back, relaxing a little as he did so.
"Wish I actually believed that I didn't fail her."
After a few moments of silence, the drake youngling decided to climb the general and start chewing on his shoulder armour as Baranor finally decided to make his way towards the halls of healing and the unavoidable conversation with Ralla.