Chapter Eight

Aragorn only nodded as his theory was confirmed. He held the sobbing boy for several long minutes, exchanging knowing glances with Brégnir. This revelation would hopefully be enough to bring the village back to their collective senses. Aragorn's only fear now was that Garman would use the news of this accident to point more blame at Red for jumping to conclusions and taking Cedric's son, Keane. Shaking his head to clear it of those distracting thoughts, he turned his attention back to the boy, whose sobs had grown quieter. When he thought Berwen was ready to talk again, Aragorn pulled him gently back and held him at arm's length. "What happened?"

Berwen took a few moments to get his breathing back under control. "Papa had gone out hunting with a few other men, and I was home alone. I was making lunch on the stove. I picked the pan up off the stove to carry over to the table, but it was so hot! I dropped it on the table, and knocked the lantern off onto the floor. The glass burst and the fuel splashed across the floor. I tried to put it out with water, but it didn't work, it only made it worse! Before I could do anything, the whole kitchen was on fire! I ran out the door and just kept running. Papa is going to hate me! He always tells me to be careful when I'm cooking on the stove. There just wasn't anything I could do once the fire started." Remembering the incident brought fresh tears to the boy's eyes, and Aragorn enfolded him in an embrace, letting him cry out his fear and pain.

After the tears once more ceased, Aragorn pulled away to look the boy in the face. He reached out and wiped the tear tracks from his face. "I assure you, your father will understand when you tell him what happened. He will be happy to see you and know that you are safe, no matter what you did."

"Are you sure?" Berwen asked in a very small voice.

"I am," Aragorn nodded reassuringly, holding the boy's gaze. "Are you ready to go home now?"

After taking a deep fortifying breath, Berwen nodded his head.

"Very well then, let us return to the village," Aragorn said, standing to his feet. He gestured for Brégnir to fall in behind them, making sure they were not attacked from behind by any of the inhabitants of this forest. As they walked back through the woods, Aragorn felt a hand creep into his. Knowing the boy still needed reassurance that he had done nothing wrong, Aragorn squeezed his hand and held it until the boy felt confident enough to withdraw his hand and simply walk beside Aragorn.