In Loving Memory

A fan-fic short

The figure on the bed was pale. His eyes were closed. His breath short.

In short, Crowley, ex-Commandant of the Ranger Corps, was going to pass away.

Crowley looked at his lifelong friend, Halt. His usual grim look was replaced with one of sadness.

"Halt, If you don't put on a happy a face, I will come back to haunt you." Crowley said lightly. Halt attempted a smile and grasped his friend's hand.

"Wish it wasn't now." He said His voice thick with emotion.

"Better now than never."

Halt was silent. Crowley turned is head to look at the grizzled Ranger. The effort was a large one.

"You'd better not be crying." He muttered accusingly. "I hate tears."

Halt shook his head, dashing tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. He grasped Crowley's hand tighter.

"Ow." Crowley said. Halt smiled meekly.

"I love you, Crowley. I hope you know that."

"I hope you're not getting mushy." Then Crowley's offhand manner was replaced with a serious one. "It's sunrise." Halt nodded.

Crowley turned to the window. "Open the window, Halt. I want to see it." Halt rose and opened the curtains. He flung the window open letting in a warm breeze. He turned back to his friend.

His eyes were open, his last vision being that of the sunrise over Araluen; on his face played a quizzical but very much amused smile.

Halt walked quietly over, tears flowing down his face. He closed Crowley's eyes and kissed the top of his head. "Rest in peace, friend."

Halt shut Crowley's door behind him and looked at his friends gathered around. Will, Alyss, His wife, Pauline; Gilan and Horace.

Halt nodded once and broke down in his wife's shoulder.

Crowley Meratyn had passed away.

At the Ranger Gathering grounds.

"Crowley was a good Commandant." Halt said. He was standing next to his friend's open casket. It was his duty to send the body to its final resting place.

"More so he was a friend. To us all." A breeze picked up causing Halt cloak to flutter slightly. "He was cheerful, brave and an extremely loyal man. I trusted him with life. Many a time he defended my life with his own." Here Halt's voice caught. He stepped away from where he was standing to catch the reigns of Crowley's Horse, Cropper. From the saddle he took the simple double scabbard that held his friend's saxe and throwing knife. He held it up for all to see.

"The weapons worn by us all; for a Ranger never goes without them!" Halt placed them at Crowley's feet. Then He took an unstrung bow from across the saddle. He strung it deftly and held it up too.

"An unstrung bow to a Ranger is useless!" He laid that at Crowley's right. Then he took a full quiver of arrows. "A Ranger carries the lives of two dozen men at his side!" He set this at Crowley's left.

Finally he held up Crowley's Silver oakleaf.

"The Oakleaf! The sign of who we are!" Halt Laid this on Crowley's breast. "Fair well Crowley."

Then he closed the lid.

As the Pallbearers lowered the casket into the grave, an eerie sound came from fifty throats. Every Ranger, his arm raised in a solute was singing in one voice:

"Going back to the cabin in the trees

Going back to the creek beneath the hill.

There's a girl used to live there when I left

I doubt she's waiting for me still."

The end