Hidden Secrets
Disclaimer: I only own the unrecognized characters and the plot!
Chapter Forty-five: Life and Death
T.A. 3019Mid-summer came quickly. With it, arrived Arwen, escorted by Elrond, and her twin brothers, Elrohir and Elladan.
The reunion between Aranwen, Aragorn, and Arwen had been joyous. All too soon, Aragorn had to return to his duties and he left his wife and daughter to speak. There was much to discuss and little time. On mid-summer's day, Aragorn and Arwen were due to be wed in front of all of Gondor. Aranwen hoped to make it to the wedding, but she was due any day now to give birth to her child.
"I'm worried nana, about the child, and about Beran," Aranwen confided in her mother.
"Worried about what?"
"How Beran will react to the news and how I am supposed to care for a child. I never wanted this, at least not at this time."
"Be grateful that it is not during a time of war," smiled Arwen. "As when you came into this world."
Aranwen nodded. "'Tis hard to be grateful still."
"The Valar have something in mind for you and your child. Keep that in your mind at all times."
"Nana, I'm not ready to be a mother. I'm not fit for it. I long to be back in the Wild, living amongst nature, not trapped inside a city made entirely of stone. It is a prison, this great city is."
"I know, my daughter. Elves always take the loss of nature harshly. Your ada has not fared well with the loss of his freedom and the Wild either. It pains him just as greatly as you and I."
"I cannot raise my child," Aranwen whispered. "I'm not ready."
"Aranwen, I will help you. If you need us too, your ada and I will raise him as we should have raised you. Until you believe you are ready."
"Hannon le, nana," smiled Aranwen. (Thank you, mother.)
"Not a problem, my daughter."
Whilst Aranwen was preparing for the wedding ceremony, she felt terrible pains coursing her body. She was going into labor. Her child was about to be born.
She stumbled to the Houses of Healing, just barely stepping inside the doors when her water broke and the serious contractions began. The healers helped her to a birthing room and tried to calm her. She screamed in pain, and blocked their words from her mind.
Aranwen was utterly alone when she brought her child into the world. Aragorn and Arwen were in the midst of the wedding, unable to be at her side, and Beran was…she knew not where her husband was.
"It's a boy," a healer announced proudly, holding up the newborn for Aranwen to see.
"Agarwaen," she whispered, looking upon her son. "Agarwaen, son of Beran."
The contractions continued and Aranwen screamed loudly in pain as another baby slipped into the world, this time, a daughter.
"Nienor," she named the girl. "Nienor, daughter of Beran."
It was fitting, their names. Agarwaen meant bloodstained and referred to the blood feud between his parents. Nienor meant mourning, fitting that she and her twin were reasons for Aranwen to mourn.
Aranwen was sitting in the room beside the two cradles when the wooden door creaked open. In slipped a dark-clad figure.
"Wanderer," the soft voice of Beran came. "What have you done?"
"Beran…" she whispered, standing up and walking towards him, her long gown dragging the floor. "Beran."
"I gave you my love and this is what I receive in return?" he asked harshly, upset.
"Beran, Beran, gerich veleth nin!" she exclaimed. (Beran, Beran, you have my love!)
"If that is true, how did you come to bring those children into the world?" Beran questioned, glaring at the two cradles and the sleeping twins.
"Beran, they are our children. Your son and your daughter," whispered Aranwen, tears in her eyes. She had never expected Beran to be angry at her for bringing the twins into the world. How could he possibly think that she had been unfaithful to him? She loved him…yes she was sure of it now. After all of those months, she was sure now.
"Mine?" he croaked.
"Yes, our children," she smiled.
"Wanderer, meleth nin…" he came closer to her, resting one hand upon her waist and the other upon her face, gently stroking her tears away. (Wanderer, my love…)
The door burst open and Beran spun around. In stepped one of the Gondorians, one of the men that had been plotting the destruction of Aranwen and Aragorn for years. The one behind all of the strife and harsh times in Aranwen's young life.
"Beran, Ranger of the North, and his lovely wife, Aranwen, of the House of Telcontar. We finally meet," hissed the man, drawing his blade. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Nendil."
"Leave," ordered Beran, indicating the door. "Now."
"You think that after all this time I would miss an opportunity to end what I alone began?" Nendil questioned.
"What is that you want?" asked Aranwen, worried what the answer may be.
"The end of the reign of your family. The end of the royal line. The heirs to the throne of Gondor must die," sneered Nendil, aiming his blade at Aranwen's throat, drawing a thin line of crimson blood.
Beran withdrew his sword and knocked the deadly blade away from her throat. "Drego!" he cried to Aranwen urgently. (Flee!)
"No!" she responded, rushing to the cradles, determined to protect her newborn children. "No, Beran!"
She drew her Elven dagger from her sleeve. She had learned long ago to never go anywhere unarmed. The rules had not changed just because Aragorn was King of Gondor. That placed her in more danger than before.
"You will not touch them!" snarled Beran, beginning battle with the Gondorian.
The blades clashed, metal ringing against metal. Aranwen longed to rush into the fight and join her husband, yet she knew that she had to stay on the sidelines to protect her children in case Beran fell. She had to stay strong and in control to save them.
Beran stumbled and Nendil's blade sliced him above his heart. Aranwen cried aloud and threw herself at the Gondorian. She madly and erraticly stabbed at the Man, determined to kill him. Finally, her aim was true and she stabbed him in the heart and left her blade to rest in the cold heart as it stilled.
"Beran, meleth nin…" she whispered, falling to the ground beside the wounded Beran. She reached her bloody hand out to cover his wound, which was rapidly draining him of precious blood.
"You have to let me go, Wanderer," Beran urged her. "You have to move on for yourself and our children. You cannot dwell on what you cannot change."
"Beran…"
"Le annon veleth nin," he whispered and closed his eyes forever. (I give my love to you.)
"No!" sobbed the half-Elf, collapsing in her sorrow beside the body of her slain husband and the murderer that had hunted her for so long. The chase was finally over, but it was at the cost of Beran's life.
Beran gave his life to save her and the twins. To give them a future, he sacrificed himself at the final hour.
Author's Notes:
Only the epilogue left now!