Chapter 10: Fates and Faith

The newly formed Fellowship took their respective seats as Elrond called them back to the council. There were still items to discuss. Elrond straightened in his seat. "I have seen something terrible happening in the land of Rohan: a sickness spreads throughout the land. It is known only as Stone Death. The victims of this disease have such symptoms like black bruise-like spots and hair loss. They are also subject to stiff joints and paralysis. Ultimately, if this is not cured, the victims will die in a month. I am not sure of the cause for this disease, but it is weakening the population of Rohan. If we are to call on them when war comes, I fear they will not be as effective as we hope if this illness continues to claim lives. I suggest we send in skilled healers to combat this sickness."

Coran sat and thought while the representatives from each race talked amongst themselves. Something was bothering her about what he was suggesting. She turned to look at Aragorn, who was also thinking deeply. She cleared her throat to get Elrond's attention. "My Lord Elrond, is there a cure?"

The men quieted down as he answered her. "I do not know. That would be why I wish to send a team of skilled healers in order to find a cure. I also do not wish to risk this disease spreading to the other cultures. We should contain and smother it."

Elrond seemed unsure with the situation. He was worried about the disease. Catching on to that notion, Coran asked, "Who is it affecting? The gentry? The peasants? Just humans?"

"Again, I am not sure on whether it affects different races. I have seen, though, a vision of a few victims. I have seen both nobility and peasants plagued with this disease." He was holding back something. She could tell. And if she could, most others could.

Aragorn caught on to her thoughts like they had a psychic connection. "My Lord, who of great importance has Stone Death?"

"It is believed that Théoden King has contracted it. Which brings me to another point: under his rule as of late, many are questioning his authority, namely his lords. I fear if something is not done soon to right the order of authority the rule of Théoden King shall be overthrown whether from within or outside. If what Gandalf has said is true, Saruman is massing an army. It is possible that in Rohan's weakened state, he may strike. Or it may even be the Wildlings. And we cannot discount his lords."

"This is a grave situation indeed. I agree with your judgment, my lord," Aragorn nodded. Several others joined in with 'ayes' and nods.

"Are there any that disagree with this course of action?" Finding none, Elrond continued. "Following that ruling, I inquire who you wish to send to combat this disease." Again those around her talked amongst themselves, whispering names and listing abilities.

After some deliberation, Elrond was ready to accept ideas. The first to speak was Aragorn. "I wish to offer the names of your sons, Elladan and Elrohir, who have both been diligent students of the healing arts."

Elladan responded for the both of them. "While I am happy my name and the name of my brother have been offered, as the Lord Elrond knows, we must decline. We have business in the North."

"I must concur. They are already preoccupied." He gave a quizzical look to Aragorn. "I am curious, though, to why you did not offer the name of your cousin, seeing as she is highly skilled in healing."

With a dark look, he commanded, "She will not be going. Not into danger."

Before she could defend herself, little Samwise Gamgee piped up. "Strider, I think she would be well-suited. She did save Frodo. If she was not there, Frodo may not have been able to survive as long as he did. I submit Coran's name for consideration."

She smiled smugly at Aragorn as Elrond declared, "As her name has been submitted, I must entertain this motion. First, I would like to know her intentions and then I will hear from the rest of the council. Lady Coran?"

Standing, she came to the middle of the circle to properly address the gathered representatives. "Other than the Lord Elrond, his sons, and my Chieftain, I have the most knowledge of the healing arts gathered here. I feel that it would be my duty to serve this council in any way I can, even if it means I put myself in danger in a foreign land. I would gladly accept this quest if it is indeed given to me." She bowed and sat down.

Leaning over her, Telthedir whispered, "How mannerly of you…" She gave him a stifling look as the council began to debate her nomination.

"I do not want her going. I have lost too many of her family," Aragorn mumbled.

Goldor barked in warning, urging her to control herself before she exploded. She did not heed him however. "How can you say that? Calithil died for you and Arwen! And she died heartbroken over you! My father was sent away to Mirkwood on your orders! Feredir and I were placed in the Shire on your suggestion! Do not tell me you have lost too many from my family!"

Aragorn stood swiftly, grasping her shoulders to still her before she launched herself at him. "Do you really blame me for all of their deaths? Do you?" She shook her head in anger and defeat. She could never blame him. Not even if he was to blame. "Again, I do not want you to go." He released her and sat down again.

Gandalf was the next to speak. "Not to usurp you, Aragorn, but I agree with Lord Elrond. If we are to do any of what he asks of us, I wish to send the most skilled people out to do such a deed. If the Lady Coran is indeed as talented in the healing arts as Lord Elrond has mentioned before, I say we should let her go." He straightened in his chair as Aragorn's eyes descended upon him. "Are you frightened for her safety? I understand fully, but there are ways to provide the most protection."

"Yes, we can send an able bodied warrior to accompany her if need be. Telthedir has already offered his services. I'm sure it would be no trouble," Elrond conceded. "What say you, council? Are we agreed?" All but Aragorn agreed. "Aragorn, I will not send her if you do not approve. I need total approval of the council."

Aragorn sighed heavily, giving in. "She will not go until she has been properly trained in the way of the sword. And she will be accompanied by a warrior. Only on those terms do I accept her as a member on that quest."

"Understood. My Lady Coran, you are to attend to this quest." Elrond gave her a little wink that went unnoticed by all. "Now to the next member: Telthedir, do you accept to guide and keep her safe and do so by the rest of the party?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Any disapproval of his appointment?" There was none. "You are the protector. Now we need more healers."

"How many can we spare," was the question from Boromir. He did not seem as if he agreed with letting any aid Rohan. Since when did they help their kind? They weren't even represented at this council, which means they weren't a major player in this war. Why would they send some of the most skilled healers into Rohan to combat a disease they had no knowledge of? Why would they do this when Rohan would not come when called? Gondor took care of its own, and only Gondor will see this done.

"At most two more."

"Then send one more. That should be sufficient. They may draw too much attention if their party is more than three."

Rolling her eyes, she commented, "We will draw attention anyways. Telthedir is an elf."

Whispering once more in her ear, the elf reassured her. "There are ways to fix that, my lady."

"Be that as it may, they will need another healer. And I fear that neither the humans nor the dwarves have much to offer in that area," Elrond chided. It would be another elf.

"Why not my cousin and Telthedir's sister, Minuialwen? She is the assistant Apothecary. She is trained to work these sorts of problem." Erestor gave them a crooked smile, like he had planned this from the beginning. "In addition, she is as good of a fighter, if not better than her brother."

"In that I must agree, cousin," Telthedir stated with a soft laugh.

"What say the council? Shall this apothecary's assistant be of service to this cause?"

And that was how her fate was decided, with a thunderous 'aye'. She was destined to leave as the fellowship did. They were to accompany the fellowship until it was suitable for them to break. They were to take the Gap of Rohan. It was hoped that with their crossing across the Fords of Isen, they could distract Saruman for a time. Their company, small but noticeable, would be like a thorn in Saruman's side which he could not ignore. Gandalf assumed that his superior's thirsty curiosity would be to their advantage. As soon as the wizard saw that their group was of no harm, the Fellowship would have disappeared from sight. It seemed like a sound plan, but Coran was dubious about their crossing. Would Saruman let them pass? Would he even pay them any attention? Answers would only come with time.

As she sat in the Lord Elrond's study, she contemplated these questions. However she was supposed to be paying close attention to their supplies as her and Minuialwen were deciding what to bring. The elf woman was very beautiful, much like her brother. Her brown hair and blue eyes were the same and she had a similarly tall build. Her humor and mannerisms were quite different. She was much more serious in nature and her frown seemed as if it was permanently plastered to her face.

"You should listen to her. My sister gets… agitated when she's ignored, milady," Telthedir cooed from his seat next to her.

"I beg your pardon. It is getting late and I have much on my mind. Perhaps we can talk about this tomorrow. I am only human." She gave them a sweet smile to which they relented. She was sent on her way, leaving Telthedir and Minuialwen to discuss baggage and tactics.

As she made her way back to her room she passed by the Shards of Narsil. Captivated by them as the reflected the moonlight shining down on them, she came forth to admire them. Gently, she ran her fingertips over the blade. "This is what brought you victory, Forefathers? Could it be that this also hastened your demise?" She came closer, studying the runes on the hilt. "Narsil is my name, a mighty sword. Telchar made me in Nogrod."

While she was reading, she did not hear the drunken footfalls behind her. It was when he spoke she knew. "You read elvish, girl?" It was one of the men of the Council. They however were neither of Boromir's company nor of Rohirric descent. She was not sure where they came from or why they had attended. He had been one to speak out against Aragorn initially, challenging the king's right of birth.

"Yes, sir," she spoke quietly, backing away slowly.

Swiftly, he snatched her about the waist drawing her close to him. Desperately reaching out, she tried to grasp Narsil, failing as she was pulled away. "A bitch like you shouldn't know how to read. You shouldn't be going on that quest either. You should be beneath…" She fought against him, kicking and elbowing. She pulled forward and slammed her head into his nose. It made a sickening crack and he howled in pain, launching himself at her.

In the brawl, he managed to pin her to the ground, punching her face now and then. She shrieked and screamed as he assaulted her, hoping someone would come.

The one who did was unexpected. He ripped the man from her, throwing him to the ground. "Unless you want to be mauled by her dog, I recommend that you leave." The man before them scurried away, not having to be told twice.

"Thank you," she managed as she struggled to sit up. Her head felt like a mace was banging against it. When she blinked there were white lights dancing about her vision. He grasped her arm, bringing her into a standing position and leading her over to a nearby bench. She finally registered her rescuer, eyeing the tree insignia on his chest. "Thank you," she repeated.

"Why are you alone?"

"Because I am capable to take care of myself," she spat at his apparent sexism. "I'm not a frail little girl."

Chuckling Boromir said, "And that's why you fly off the handle at every bad statement? I was just asking where Telthedir and Goldor were. I know they are or will be your constant companions." He put a hand to her face, turning it so he could examine the bruises. Contrary to his belief, she did not pull away. "Are you alright?"

"I believe so. My head hurts a bit from where I hit him in the nose." She let him pull the ribbon holding her braid. His deft fingers unwove her hair slowly and gently as he worked his way up to feel the knot developing on the back of her head. Tentatively, he brushed over the spot, causing her to shiver in pain. Drawing his fingers back, she caught a glimpse of a wet substance on his fingers. She was bleeding. "My head is hurt a little more than I had first thought."

Clearing his throat, he stated absentmindedly, "I should take you to Elrond or Aragorn."

"I am a healer. I can take care of it." Decisively, she stood, swaying slightly. "I think I would like you to escort me to my chambers."

"Of course," he complied, taking her by the arm. Leading her down the hall, he realized he was wrong about her. She was strong, maybe not physically or mentally, but in character and in faith. In the darkest of times, she would be a beacon of hope, consistently having faith in those around her. And in those moments, it occurred to him that she did not have to be an adept healer to heal those about her. She would just have keep their spirits up. And that was what made her such a great healer, her ability to keep moral high. And from what he had seen, she was capable of such a thing.