Chapter 13: Sacrifice and Strength

Her mind was plagued with thoughts of him. It had been so long since she had actually dreamt of him. As she wandered through her dream space, he was around every corner and waiting for her in every room. Whatever had brought this on was disturbing her. She had just started to reach the point where the pain was diminishing in her heart. She wasn't constantly thinking of him.

Her dreams stopped swelling and changing, settling upon her deepest of memories. It was her biggest secret that she had shared with no one else. It was the point in her life that she had fallen in love with him. It was the tipping point between sisterly love and loving him as a woman. As her mind took her to the memory, she welcomed it, cherishing the recollection.

She was twenty years old and a few months that day. The day of her promising. She was a woman, just in the beginnings her apprenticeship. It was that day that she was to first weave some woolen bandages, at least six feet, and then go to pick some healing herbs in the foothills.

"Coran!" She knew the voice immediately. Feredir. Slowly she turned to him, almost annoyed. He was constantly asking her to marry him. It was not like she was not going marry him, as they were betrothed, but she did not wish to marry him at that moment. She was still a child in her mind, although she had reached adulthood. Often, she had to remind him that she would rather finish her apprenticeship as a healer before she would even think of marrying him.

"Feredir," she scowled as he approached. "To what do I owe the displeasure? Have you come to ask for my hand again?"

He threw back his head with a hearty laugh, one deep and rich like mead. He was very handsome and had excellent humor. She did not know why she had such an aversion to marrying him. She mostly blamed it upon her sisterly love she had for him. Frankly, she was terrified of marriage. She knew from her mother, a healer like herself, the complications of pregnancy. Too often she had seen women die from a pregnancy. And she had heard rumors of women being beaten and raped by their husbands. She knew that Feredir would never hurt her. That's what he told her with such conviction that it pained her to even think differently. But, all of creation will lie. And it was something she continued to tell herself ever since Calithil's death.

It didn't help that Feredir was on the same escort team that Calithil was on when she died. He could have done something! Anything… Yet, he had done nothing. In reality, how could she trust this man who had not even tried to help her sister? But she knew why she did. He had won her trust at Calithil's funeral that the clan had held.

As Coran had sung her farewells to the empty coffin, he had fallen to his knees, crying out to the Heavens, begging for Calithil to be returned to them. Calithil had been his best friend. He had known her a lot longer than Coran had. He had loved her a lot longer too. His display of affection and desperation broke her heart. Here was a man so guilty and distraught by her sister's passing she felt as if she could not even be allowed to mourn her sister. He had stayed in front of her coffin, kneeling and crying, longer than even her family. That spoke volumes about his heart. And now, she even thought that he had truly and utterly loved her more than anyone else ever had. How cruel her sister was to leave them behind. How cruel her sister was to love another.

As she reminded herself of this memory, she felt as if she was Calithil's replacement, though they had been betrothed since her birth. There were two things that went through her mind as she thought of that: was he pained at even the sight of her, as she looked so like her sister and would they ever be able to love each with the memories of Calithil haunting them both?

"Am I so predictable, my fiancée?" He watched her tie her cloak about her shoulders, readying to leave the village. When she did not answer, he continued with a serious tone. "I am the one to watch over you while you retrieve the herbs from the foothills. This is nonnegotiable, Coran." When he spoke down to her like that, like she was a child, she felt anger boil inside of her. She would calm immediately for her mother had said that showed she was still a child.

She rolled her eyes at him, frowning. "Just get ready." She finished packing what she needed and began to head out of the village with Feredir trailing behind her. He said nothing to her as they passed the border farms, which became lost to them as they entered the edge of the forest.

Every so often, Coran would check her book to identify the different plants, studiously looking at them and comparing. She would drop down and cut or pluck the plant in accordance to her directions. They wandered deeper and deeper into the forest, coming upon the foothills.

A little past noon the sky darkened with low clouds. Feredir spoke for the first time in hours. "Rain is coming. I would like to be heading home by the time it starts. It's not safe in the wood."

"You worry too much, Feredir. We haven't had orcs in these woods for a decade…" Her words trailed off as she found another flower of healing.

He watched her bend down, looking at her form. She was small and frail compared to the strong and fierce warrior Calithil had been. This was the woman he had to love. She was weak, easily offended, and a child. Yet, she was gentler, kinder, and more hopeful than anyone he had ever met. And that was commendable. He loved her. But not like he had Calithil. He had worshiped the woman and he was sure Coran knew that. Then, again, who didn't? The whole clan knew of the tragedy that had befallen them. Calithil had been pledged to Halbarad, and Coran to Feredir. Calithil's whole betrothal had been a disaster. When Feredir had told her his feelings about her, she had made him swear to love Coran with all of his being. She had wanted what was best for her baby sister. And he promised himself he would love Coran as he knelt in front of the empty coffin.

"It is not orcs I fear, Coran. We are easy targets for the folk of the mountains. If they find us, you know what will happen." He edged closer, his stance tensing.

She felt his anxiety. She glanced back to him, trying to ease his mind. "I'm sure whatever you've been told about them are just stories. Anyways, I won't be much longer." She stood, collecting herself.

Feredir took her arm swiftly, pulling her towards him. He pushed her back against a tree, trapping her in his grasp. His face was dark with anger and fear. She had forgotten… "I have seen it with my own eyes, Coran. When I was still a child, I watched them rape my cousin before they skinned her alive. They ate her meat and decorated themselves with her skin and bones. They still wear them." His face was dangerously close to hers. She could barely hear what he uttered next as it came with heavy breaths. "I fear them, Coran."

He closed the distance between them, pressing his nose into her hair, holding her tight. She recovered from her initial shock, wrapping her arms about him. One of her hands moved up his back and to his hairline, threading her fingers through his hair and entangling her hand. He was firm yet gentle all at the same time. And he smelled wonderfully of earth and fire and wood. "Do not be afraid. Such harm has not befallen us and nor will it. We will be vigilant. Moreover, we are Dúnedain, adult Dúnedain. We can hold our own."

He pulled away just to place a kiss upon her brow. "I truly love you." And as soon as it had started, it was over. He turned from her, distancing them. She frowned in confusion. What went on in his head was entirely foreign to her.

There was silence again, for a long time. And then there was rain as they wandered further into the forest, the sky darkening still. Feredir seemed less bothered by the growing darkness and that pleased her soul. Yet, she found that as they continued on, she began to feel uneasy. Something was amiss.

She stopped again, near a cliff, pulling weeds for healing and tossing them in her woven basket. The rain had picked up to an almost downpour. The soil became loose and muddy, causing the two Dúnedain to slip and slide around as they worked. She remembered this moment clearly, how could she not?

She slipped off the cliff after reaching too far for a flower. She heard her name screamed, but all she could focus on was the wind rushing past her as she fell. She felt arms wrap about her body, clutching her deep to his chest. Feredir whispered gently, "I cannot conceive a life without you."

And then they met rock and tumbled. As soon as it had started, they were stopped, lying splayed out on the ground. He had lost his hold on her, allowing her to be flung farther from him. She was the first to recover. She had no idea how long she had been out, but the rain had calmed down.

She struggled to sit up, groaning with effort. Her lungs felt oddly heavy, like something was pressing down on them. Touching her torso lightly, she confirmed what she suspected: a couple of broken ribs. She rubbed at her eyes in frustration, bringing her hand down across her face.

Looking about, she saw Feredir laying a good thirty feet from her. Groaning, she came to her knees, struggling to stand. She came to him, falling before him in exhaustion. She shook him, saying his name hoarsely. "Feredir. Wake up."

He did not move. She began to examine him, pressing and prodding, feeling and seeing. His damage seemed to be significantly more than hers: a broken leg, dislocated shoulder and a nasty wound to his torso. Stripping her shirt off, she began to apply pressure to his wound. It was not deep, but it was bleeding heavily. She kept pressure on it even when he awoke. He was weak and disoriented and unable to help her. He just grimaced with every movement and smiled encouragingly at her.

Finally she was able to wrap his wound as the bleeding had stopped. Next she would set his leg. She stood painfully, looking around for sticks to align his leg with. She found a small one for him to bite down on as she moved his leg about to splint it. She picked up a few she liked and came back to him. "This will hurt. Bite down on this." She handed him a stick and he did as she commanded.

It was a long time with many groans before she was done. It was not as serious as she had though originally; it seemed to be just a fracture. She quickly relocated his shoulder. Exhausted, she collapsed again next to him.

"This isn't your fault," he said quietly, almost reading her mind.

"I should have been more careful."

"Maybe, but the past is the past. We cannot change it."

On day three, she was desperate. No one had found them and she could not move him herself. He was suffering from possible infection and dehydration. They were eating leaves, but the amount of moisture in them left something to be desired.

As he began to fade, she desperately tried to save him. Cutting her hand, she fed him her blood as water, hoping it would quench his thirst just long enough.

With her blood stained on his lips, he whispered hoarsely. "Leave me. I am to die."

"No. I would not be able to live with that burden on my shoulders." She clutched to him fiercely. She had her tiny hands on his soul. If he was to slip into death, she would pull him back, clawing her way through the void.

"Why? I am not held in your heart. I know I will never be. Why continue to torture me?"

Her mind kept screaming: 'You cannot love him. Do not love him. That is a dark path. It is unknown. You do not know what will befall you there.' But something else, the truth, stumbled from her lips as she whispered, "I have lied. I have loved you every day since Calithil's passing. I just did not think we would be able to love given your attachment to her." She looked at him with tears in her eyes. "I... I love you, Feredir, to the ends of the ages and the ruin of all and after. I love you more than anyone could ever love you. Do not leave me to walk this earth alone!"

He mustered enough strength to bring his lips to her in the most delicate of kisses; it was almost as if it was merely just the wind. He lay back down and closed his eyes as a tear rolled down his cheek. "I cannot promise you that. Coran, my love for you is more than the length of the sky. When I promised Calithil, it was an empty promise. I still loved her. But you have always been in my heart. I realized that my love for Calithil was based on jealousy and lust for something I could never have. You were the one my heart has longed for all these years. And because of that, I cannot let you die here. Please, you must go!"

His words broke her heart. She was just now loving him. It gave her a new perspective on the phrase "you never know what you had until it's lost". Frantically, she pulled on his arms, trying to slip her small hands under his broad shoulders. "I can carry you! I'm strong enough! We can make it back. I promise. I will not leave you."

He chuckled at her effort, cruelly. "We both know that is a feat unattainable. You cannot lift me. And if you tried, you most likely would open my wound. I will die either way."

She sat and thought for a minute. Ideas that would work rushed through her head and were dismissed. Finally, she had one that might work. A sled! She rose from her position and told him to wait for her return. That he was not allowed to die until after she came back. He promised her that he would hold on for just a little longer to entertain her mad fantasy.

Remembering a fallen trunk from her search for his splint, she returned to that spot. It was small, but large enough for him, just barely. She kicked away the rotting bark and began to pull the trunk back to Feredir.

When she returned, she was out of breath. She let the tree drop gently next to him and she collapsed to the ground as well, sitting in relief. It was there she took his dagger and began cutting parts of her dress off into long little strips. After her dress was no more and she just had a shift on, she handed him some pieces. "Braid them."

From there, they made five eight foot long lengths of braid. "I'm going to tie you to this tree and pull you home. It is going to work!"

He smiled groggily at her, impressed. Though he knew they would never make it. They had traveled half a day out before they had fallen. Her pulling him would take much longer than that and more strength and endurance. Yet, he let her believe she was going to make it. He let her believe she could save him.

When she finally had all the ropes tied tightly and him snugly against the bark, she began the hardest walk in her life. With the ropes about her torso, she pulled him agonizingly slow. It hurt her broken ribs, but she knew she was doing the right thing. One step. Two steps…Ten… Twenty…

She stopped an hour later, the pain too much. He asked her to eat some leaves for moisture, for she was thirsty yet said nothing. After a short break, she resumed.

It was at midday, she collapsed. Just barely up the hill they had fallen down. As she tumbled to the ground, he called out, trying to wake her from her stupor. He was helpless in his efforts to catch her as he was bound to the log.

When she awoke a little while later, she silently took up the ropes again and began again, ignoring his shouted requests for her to quit and rest. She would see this done, even if it took her life. She wanted to save him! She had to!

At sundown, they found them. Him cradling her. Blood on their lips. Breaths shallow and heart beat slow. They were dying. It was Goldor who had found them as he had led the search for them. Feredir's father trailed not far behind. They gathered them up and placed them atop their horses, speeding back to their village.

The Master Healer attended to their wounds, effectively keeping them alive. The whole village was stirred up about what Coran had done for Feredir, about her bravery and strength. They complimented her mother on raising a child such as her and demanded for their wedding. A tale of two lovers such as theirs was inspiring and encouraging to their village of little hope. It taught them that hope could be found in love.

Such a story turned tragic when they awoke. Coran sobbed for days after learning that her efforts in trying to heal and trying to return them home had possibly handicapped Feredir forever. "He may walk with a limp all of his life, putting him out of service."

Feredir forced Coran to work with him, aiding him in the healing process. "I was not and will not be lamed by your efforts. I do not believe your Master." And every day, he improved.

Not long after he could run again, he proposed to her once more. This time she said yes. They were wed the next spring, happy and healthy and prosperous.

And then….

She awoke. Feredir's arms were not about her. Nor was his scent on her skin. The night was old and the air chilly with the morning dew. She uttered a small moan of sadness as she wrapped her arms about herself, cradling her lonely body. "I miss you," she whispered into the wind.

With one quick swipe, he decapitated his opponent. Feredir bent down and covered his hand in his enemy's blood. He dragged his fingers, diagonally across his face, shouting roughly into the sky. He had defeated the leader of the Dunlendings. He was King now. Shouting once more into the Heavens, he relished in the chants of the thousands gathered around. "Hail, North King!"

"Hail!"

Feredir smiled at his accomplishment. He would infiltrate Saruman's fortress with this army.