Chapter 11: Truth

"You must keep up, Coran!" the elf urged her as they raced around Imladris, trying to boost her endurance. She was not fast nor could she last long. In all of her training, she was not required to be a distance runner. And Telthedir was a slave driver. They had been training since before dawn and by the shadows, she could tell it was almost midday. "We must build your endurance!"

Goldor surged past them, barking happily as they chased after him. It was good to see that Coran was in good spirits and in good health, given the events of the days past. She would tell no one of how she received such a bruise on her cheek; it stood out, a deep purple color, right next to her eye. She said she had gotten dizzy and had fallen over, hitting her head on a bench. None of them believed it. Neither she nor Boromir would confess to the truth. Though, Coran suspected Goldor had already put two and two together after seeing the man who had attacked her with his nose bruised and broken.

As Aragorn and Elrond watched the three of them from the lord's study, they talked of tactics and possibilities. "Coran may not be able to handle this task. I fear for her."

"And what makes you say that, Estel?" Elrond was unsure why Aragorn had such little faith in this woman. Like Gandalf had once told Galadriel, who had shared the conversation with him, they found it was the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay, small acts of kindness and love and that breeds hope. Coran was an ordinary, insignificant person in the grand scheme of the universe, but with her help, she could aid a nation and in turn, aid the world.

Aragorn sighed, his fingers ghosting across his chin before he leant forward against the balcony, studying his cousin even more. She was frail in his eyes. Frail in body and mind, not more than a child to him. Just like Calithil had been. However, her sister seemed to muster more talent in maturity and in battle than Coran seemed to be doing. Calithil did not fly off the handle as easily nor was she as easily wounded from certain words or events. Granted, Calithil did not have to watch her husband die, nor an entire regiment of her brothers in arms die. It seemed to him Coran definitely had life worse, yet she just handled it so poorly in his eyes. She needed to move on. And because of this, he had a hard time expressing his thoughts in words. The ones he came up with felt inadequate. "She lacks experience and maturity."

Elrond seemed to understand given the vagueness of his answer. "And both of those things can be fixed. I feel that by the end of her time here she will gain both, maybe not fully but even a little seems satisfactory." Aragorn did not answer him, but continued to watch Coran run poorly about the gardens, tripping every so often. It was Elrond's next words that brought him back. "I have heard a rumor, a whisper of hope."

"What is it, my Lord?" Aragorn was anxious to hear this news. Good news would be welcomed for recently there had not been much of it.

Elrond took out a scroll and unfurled it, scanning it carefully as he said, "I have received a message from my sons, who have heard from one of your kinsmen. Halbarad is alive." The elf lord watched the ranger, trying to understand the hard expression on his face. His confusion was evident, yet he saw that Aragorn was trying to work out what he himself was thinking.

"I would have thought he perished with Feredir and the others. He was the second in command there. It does not seem right to me that they would have let him live." Halbarad was Feredir's cousin. The older man had declined to take the leadership role to train Feredir for it. He was grooming Feredir to take control of the Great East Road protection. When the Nazguls attacked they would have killed those wearing the leadership insignias first before all others, just as Coran described.

"Yet he is alive, he was escorted in this morning by my sons who had received a pigeon from him." He stopped Aragorn from storming out to go find his brother-in-arms. The man was restless to know about the attack. This was his people! "There is more, Estel. He has valuable information from the battle."

Aragorn paused in the doorway, clutching the frame as he looked back. His eyebrows furrowed as his gaze darkened. "I assume this information you speak of is not in correlation with what Coran has told us." Has she lied yet again? It was becoming apparent that she was drawn to not telling the truth, a characteristic that was quite unbecoming.

"You would be correct. He is not to see her and you are not to speak to her about anything concerning him. Is that understood?" The man nodded his agreement as puzzlement flooded him. Elrond slumped a little in his seat, his head coming to his hands as he whispered the grave, yet heartwarming news. It was a blessing to know, but it was a danger to the mission. "Halbarad has come to tell Coran that her husband is alive. Feredir lives, but just barely. He was taken in by Dunlendings. He had managed to make his way away from the battle and to the South, before being taken by a nomadic group. That was what he had sent Halbarad in a message. There has been no more communication. Coran is not to know. It will upset the mission." He stood, smoothing out his robes. "Now, would you like to accompany me to his rooms to find out how indeed he did escape?"

~x~x~x~x~x~

"Sam, go faster!" Frodo pushed Sam as they scurried down the hallways of the Last Homely House. It was Pippin's idea to make Coran's training a game. They were playing 'Bundled Sticks'. It was Goldor who hid first. The hobbits were trying to find him and when they did, they would hide with him too, until Coran found them and the game would start all over. Coran was the last to leave the starting point and while they played this game, she was to learn basic tracking skills.

"Mr. Frodo, we must be quiet!" Sam hushed him as they slowed their pace. They eased closer to the only door in the hallway. Curious, they both listened to the conversation.

"You said that Castien was wearing Feredir's armor at the time of the assault. Why?" As they peered about the corner they could see Aragorn and Elrond interrogating another man, who wore the star of the Dúnedain, a symbol of his rank. They were all standing about a table, where the man had a map splayed out and had marked items.

"He did not have armor of his own and he was to be practicing taking damage with armor. Feredir lent him his as both of us were dealing with a bear problem on a local farm. Coran was not told of Castien's borrowing or of our hunt. We did not want to bother her while she was operating on one of our men who had an unsteady wall fall on his legs, breaking one of them. It was while she was setting the leg, we were attacked. Castien, wearing Feredir's armor which marked him as the leader, was slaughtered first, just as Coran was coming out of the healing tent. Then they slaughtered the rest of our troop. Coran ran away. I assumed she saw us as we ran back into the forest."

They watched Aragorn pace nervously and thoughtfully before the table. He stopped to say, "She did say she was not the only coward, that others ran as well."

"Yes, well, from there Feredir and I split. He went looking for Coran and I started towards Bree, hoping to catch you, Aragorn. I learned while I was in Bree that both Coran and you had departed from Bree. I also received the message from Feredir that he had been taken by a band of Dunlendings. So, then I made it here after contacting Elladan and Elrohir. That is all the information I have, I am sorry." The man awaited Elrond or Aragorn to say something. Sam and Frodo dared not to look into the room much longer and see their faces, afraid of being caught. Quickly, they stole themselves from the doorway, pressing their backs to the wall and listening hard.

It was Aragorn who spoke next. "Halbarad, as much as I know you want to tell Coran that Feredir is alive, I forbid you from telling her. She is going on a mission of dire circumstances. She does not need distraction of any kind. Do you agree to this?" Curious at his decision, Frodo snuck a glance, watching the exchange between the two men and Elrond.

"Aye, my King," Halbarad bowed his agreement. As he did so, his eyes found Frodo and he signaled to Aragorn their hiding places. The ranger looked over his shoulder; a tired and pained look crossed his features as he waved them in. They came, hoping they had not upset him too much.

"As for you, Sam and Frodo, I expect the same," Aragorn said to them, chilling them with his gaze. "You will not tell anyone. Do you understand me?" They nodded and ran from the room as he dismissed them, going to find Goldor and continue their game of Bundled Sticks.

~x~x~x~x~x~

As they took a break for lunch, Goldor ate with the hobbits and Gandalf as Coran and Telthedir continued to spar, promising to come in later for lunch. The Shirefolk chatted with him playfully as if they had been friends for a very long time. Eager to learn, Bilbo asked him of Coran's family and how it was she was the cousin of the true king.

"Her grandmother, Lady Colveril, was the second wife of his grandfather, Lord Arador, who fathered Lord Arathorn II before meeting her grandmother. Her father, Lord Coran I, was the only son of Lady Colveril and Lord Arador, but because he was the son of the second wife, he barely holds legitimate claim to the throne. If Lord Aragorn does not produce children, her father would be next in line." Taking a breath before continuing, he explained more of their history. This was the part where he despaired, their fates and the fate of the World of Men rested solely on the shoulders of Aragorn. "Her father is on duty in Mirkwood and she has not heard from him since we were young, so they have assumed the worst. So as of right now, the line has died if Lord Aragorn does not produce a son, for she cannot claim the throne because she is a woman."

"And what of her duties as cousin to the king then?" Frodo asked, curious as to why her family was important in Dúnedain life.

"As the only living offspring of her father, she was charged with protecting the Ring of Barahir, a sign of Lord Aragorn's claim to the throne." He was glad Coran was not there to hear them speak of her sister. "Her sister, Lady Calithil, was the protector before her." He did not see Aragorn sneak into the room and sit in the windowsill to his right, smoking heavily on his pipe. He bode ill for the conversation.

"What happened to her sister, if I may ask?" the dark haired hobbit inquired. All eating had stopped as all of the hobbits looked to Goldor. They began to understand the heart ache that Coran was used to experiencing. They slowly were becoming aware of why she acted the way she did.

"She died." He looked down, unable to look at the sympathetic looks from the hobbits. He heard their breathy intakes at his words, his mind trying to comprehend why they were so emotionally invested in the conversation. "She was part of an escort that was protecting the Lady Arwen on her way back from Lothlórien. I am not sure how she died, but she never came back." He took a drink of the water that was laid before him, clearing his mind of dark thoughts.

Aragorn spoke, startling him. He puffed out a cloud of smoke beforehand, his eyes downcast with sorrow. Just thinking of Calithil caused him the worst of pains. Often times he had nightmares about that night, unable to shake her frightened face from his memory. "I never wanted her to know the truth, because I blame myself for Calithil's death."

"Speak then!" Goldor barked, pain and rage boiling inside him. "She deserves to know the truth after all these years. I will not be the one to tell her." Goldor kept his head down as his anger fought to control him. He was anxious to hear how her sister died. It had plagued both her and Feredir for years. It was fitting he finally learned the truth.

"When we were returning, Calithil drew me aside. She asked for a moment alone and I granted her one. We wandered too far for my liking but she assured me we needed the privacy. It was then she admitted to her forbidden feelings." He leaned against the window frame, daring to glance outside to catch a glimpse of Coran. "I took them with a heavy heart for I had already given my heart to Arwen, regardless of our family ties. I consoled her and granted her one wish. We exchanged true names.

"After our exchange, we began back to camp. It was then she spotted something. Quickly, she grabbed ahold of me and forced me to the ground, covering me with her body." It was in that moment his heart broke. She had been happy to have saved him, yet a terrified look had come across her face. Her breathy gasps of air still haunted him as he remembered as she cried with relief.

Tired of reliving the event, he continued, "She took an arrow for me. She bravely killed the scout right after. I brought her back to camp, wounded and dying. She asked for two things: to be burned and to avenge her. That night while her body smoldered, I slaughtered the whole camp of Orcs, ambushing them in the night." A grim, small smile appeared on his face as he spoke of the bloodbath. It was that night that he had let rage take him. He had closed her dead eyes, placing a kiss on both of them before gently laying her on the pyre he built. He stole his eyes away from the window to look at his hands, flexing them as he imagined her blood flowing over them. "I have her blood on my hands and I can never forget that." Aragorn stood to leave, almost dismissing them, his mind tired from thinking of her. He was emotionally drained. Too much had happened that day: Halbarad, Feredir, Calithil. His past was coming to haunt him, but the more looming, his future.

"I do not wish to talk of this anymore." He said as he extinguished his pipe and squeezed his eyes shut as he left. He needed to think on this, on her. It was Calithil who made him foolishly desire to be king. In his mind, if he accepted the role, then those like her would no longer have to die. He would be able to protect him. He knew this to be folly. He knew that he could never become king; it wasn't his place and he knew he would do no better than Isildur.

Goldor did not follow him, but he did emit a low growl. He had no words, his mood definitely worsened. It was Gandalf who brought him back to his senses. "It was good he did what he did for her."

"Aye," Bilbo agreed, a slight twinkle in his eye. "Lest she come back as an evil spirit."

"You are right," Goldor consented. "Calithil as an evil spirit would be the death of us all." He could not blame Aragorn for Calithil's death, just as he knew Coran could not. He was their King and they would not cross him. He understood that it was fate for Calithil to die. Without her death, Coran would not be the same. Then again, without Feredir's death, she would not be going to heal the people of Rohan. It was fate that allowed her to be of such use and she was not to go against it. And wherever she was going, he would follow without question. Because of this, he felt no real need to go and share Aragorn's story of Calithil. It was his to share and his alone. He would tell Coran one day, but only when the time was right.

"Come, let us go to the library. Bilbo has agreed to teach us some history," Gandalf beckoned them as he stood, towering over all of them. He had that look in his eye which compelled them to listen to him. He was a witching fellow indeed.

~x~x~x~x~x~

Arwen Undómiel had left her lover to stroll through the gardens. It was one of her favorite past-times, walking them at night. She loved the way the moon's reflection glistened in the river and loved seeing the flowers in the starlight.

She felt like she needed to treat herself to this after failing at convincing Aragorn of his virtue. She had seen the interaction between him and Boromir at the Shards of Narsil. She had come to reassure him. Remembering their words, she could not help but understand that something was bothering him.

"Why do you fear the past?" She came up behind him, watching him curiously. She stopped as she said, "You are Isildur's heir, not Isildur himself. You are not bound to his fate."

She did not need to see his face to understand his feeling of guilt. A tired sigh filled the empty air. "The same blood flows in my veins." He turned to face her, his face hardened. "The same weakness," he spit, disgusted with himself.

She came to him, hurt by his self-hatred. "Your time will come. You will face the same evil. And you will defeat it." His look of doubt at her words broke her heart. Desperately trying to assure him, she whispered in Sindarin, "The Shadow does not hold sway yet. Not over you… not over me."

He turned from her without a word, leaving her in front of the memorial. She felt his grief at his words and his guilt. It pained her to see him in such a state. The last time she had seen him like this was when Calithil had died. It was different then though. His rage was unmatched and he had left deep in the night. He returned at daybreak, covered in Orc blood.

Now as she walked the gardens and contemplated his words and actions, she began to understand. She lapsed into a dream and saw the reason. When her father used his gift of foresight, she often saw bits and pieces of it. In this particular scene, she saw Coran, noticeably pregnant. A little boy, who did not particularly share her features, ran to her and called her mother, hugging her legs tightly with happiness. Behind the boy, came Aragorn and another man, who had distinct Dúnedain insignias and features. The man she did not recognize kissed Coran before the scene softly warped. In this version, Coran was seated on a wooden stool in a wooden hall. The man who held her hand possessively looked rustic and not Dúnedain or Gondorian. To her, he appeared to be Rohirric. He kissed her hand passionately.

The second of the scenes died as Elrond looked into the possibility of two prominent foresights. The last vision they shared surprised Arwen. It was a picture of Coran choosing duty or love, Rohan to her left and Feredir to her right. About the picture swirled the faces of herself, Elrond, Aragorn, a Dúnedain man, Frodo, Sam and Telthedir. As this picture faded, Arwen deduced that her decision to stay true to her vows or go after her seemingly alive husband was what was going to influence her futures. And that those faces that were shown were those who knew her husband was alive. "Interesting." She said to herself.

Unknown to Coran, all of those about her were willing to keep the secret of Feredir living for the sake of the mission. For now, she was kept in the dark. For now, it seemed better than having her run off to go find him. For now, she was able to begin to mend her broken heart. And she could not do that if she knew he was alive. It was better this way.