Chapter 14: Desperation, Desolation, and Determination

In the days that followed, she found that nothing would appease her curiosity. It was a bunch of secret meetings and her own boredom. She tried studying and tried training, but to no avail. Her mother's presence plagued her like an oozing wound: noticeable and annoying.

Often they did not get along. It was not because of differing mindsets, as they were almost all of the same beliefs. It was because of her mother's voiced opinions of others. Lady Eryniel was known for the tongue she used. She had never agreed with the warrior life that many of the Dúnedain fell into. When Coran I had left them for Mirkwood, she cursed him as he left. She spat at his feet and told him that she prayed who or whatever killed him would kill him quickly. She was spiteful and tired of seeing those about her die in battle. Her own brother lay within the dirt next to his father and mother because of the life they choose, the one she didn't.

As much as she loved her mother, Coran knew of her vicious power: the spoken word. Coran knew the forked tongue her mother had and her authoritative persuasion. Politically she was a tyrant. How many she had under her influence, Coran did not know. She was not threatened by her mother, but she did not know how far Eryniel would take it to get what she wanted. She knew that, in comparison, her Chieftain was no match for Eryniel in the matter of words and politics. Aragorn was a kind and just leader who did what was best for all people. Eryniel did what she thought was best, whether it was right for the people or not. She had good intentions, yet she seemed to be a villain sometimes.

Still Coran loved her as she should. She loved her as she loved Gilraen. And that was significant.

But knowing all of this Coran was skeptical about her mother's presence. What possible good could she bring right now while everything had just fallen off the brink? What sanity, what peace, could she be grappling for? Surely she was here about the attack on the Shire. Surely she was here to check her daughter's well-being.

So this waiting did nothing but agitate her. Waiting to find out about soiled words spoken in the most secret of places. Even worse was that she had all but ceased her training for the time being so that her teachers could appease her mother. She had nothing to distract her from the knowledge that she was not invited to secret meetings her mother was involved in. And a sinking feeling told her that those meetings had just an inkling of a possibility that they were about her.

And as she was so distracted with these thoughts as she sat in front of Gilraen's memorial, she did not hear Elrond approach her. His whispered footsteps fell upon deafened ears and it displeased him to see her jump with fright at the sound of his voice. "Lady Coran, what plagues you so?"

She turned to him, tears in her eyes. She was not only thinking about her mother's presence but also the possibility that her mother was there to declare her a widow, finalizing Feredir's death. So she had sought refuge from the Mother. "You know what lays within my heart, my lord."

It was with her words that he stooped down and knelt next to her, his long robes flowing. He gathered her within his arms and did not feel resistance. She had accepted Elrond, just as she had nearly every other elf that walked the boundaries of Imladris; though Arwen remained aloof to her and she returned the gesture. "Your mother's presence only reaffirms what has already happened. Nothing has changed or worsened."

Mumbling softly, she asked, "Will you then tell me what has been said within the meetings or invite me to them if it is just details I already know?"

Elrond would not endanger her mission. He was having a hard time already by trying to persuade Lady Eryniel not to tell Coran of Feredir's living. He thought long about whether or not he would keep the woman in the shadows about her daughter's husband or be honest. Answering her slowly, he held her at a distance to judge her reaction. "Let me be clear about this: the meetings that are occurring are only with the major leaders like Aragorn, your mother, Boromir, Gimli, Legolas, and myself. To be brutal, while you are the daughter of Lady Eryniel and are the cousin to Aragorn, you do not hold position. I understand that you feel trapped, unheard, oppressed, but this is the reality. Please do not hold that against us."

Emotionally and mentally exhausted from thinking and dwelling upon the topic, she dropped her head low, defeated. She knew all of this was true. She had known for a long time, yet she still fought against it, willing it to be differently. "I know, my Lord. I know." Her voice was weak and suppressed like there was something in her throat.

"I am not trying to be hard on you, my child." He raised a hand to her cheek, softly consoling her. "It is somewhat humorous that you are like this. You strive for a voice, where Aragorn runs from his. You are living in the wrong body. If Aragorn were like you, he would be a great leader."

"I agree. I promised his mother that I would do anything to make sure he becomes king!" She gave him a determined look. "And I mean that. I promised my life to this cause."

He gave her a small smile before squeezing her hands between his. "I understand that. What you are doing, what you will do is all for the good of the world and in turn, I know we will achieve our goal. Aragorn will be crowned king! I promise you. But you must do as you are told. And this is one of them."

"I understand, Lord Elrond."

He laid a hand on her knee, squeezing kindly. "Follow me please. I want to show you something."

He led her away from Gilraen's statue, departing with the Mother with a slight bow. He took her by the hand to the river within the borders of Rivendell. It was there she saw a still, shallow pool. They knelt in front of it, their gowns splaying softly about them. Elrond dipped his hand into the pool, rustling the waters. "This is a Seeing Pool. I have the ability of foresight and I am able to project that sight into the waters so that you can see the visions."

She just stared at him, not sure how to respond. In fact, she did not want to know her future; it frightened her. She was scared of what she would do or become, how she would die and a lot of other outcomes. Tentatively, she reached out and touched the water. It was cool to the touch and it did not seem any different from normal water. Bracing herself, she said, "Show me."

He did not show her the family visions he had had of her with either the Rohirric man or Feredir. He showed her a nearer future, one along her quest. The waters swirled and twisted before showing her an image. She was bound and half-naked, riding in a caged wagon that was being pulled through a city, if you could call it that. It was thousands of tents with thousands of people within them. They looked rugged and barbaric to her, like the folk of the Mountain. They looked hungry too.

Her wagon kept going and she stood tall and proud as she approached the largest tent, the leader's tent. The wagon stopped before it and a man in a cowl stepped up to retrieve her. She was thrown harshly to the ground before being pulled to her feet by her hair. The man took the rope that bound her and tied it around her neck, pulling her by it. Soon, she stood, half-naked, muddied and bruised before the leader of this people.

In a rough voice, the king spoke. "Aye, she is a pretty one, Fredric. She looks like one of them elves with that dark hair and pale skin. Must be from Gondor." The heavily bearded and decorated man licked his lips. Something about him looked familiar, but she could not place it with all of the paint and furs and hair that adorned him. "Girl!"

She watched her head rise for the first time, anger in her eyes. "You belong to the North King now." He yanked her rope sharply, causing her to fall on her face, more mud splattering her body. He bent over her, knotting his hand in her hair before pulling her up by it as Fredric had done. "You, princess, are nothing more than filth." Bellowing loudly before the camp, he proclaimed, "I bed the Whore of the Gondor this night!" He laughed as his people cheered. Whispering in her ear, he snarled. "I know who you are. They say in Rohan that a woman, a witch from the North, has come to heal the land of the plague set upon them. They say it is a woman of noble birth, one akin to the True King of Men. How much would he pay for you? How much will your King sacrifice for his cousin?"

Coran could not watch anymore. She was disgusted that Elrond chose to show her that. She tore her gaze from the pool, the images disappearing. "Why have you shown me this?"

"To make sure you understand the direness and the risks presented to you. This may very well be your fate. Take all of the precautions you can." He leaned in close. "Keep your guard. I do not know the motives of certain parties here and afar. You never know who will betray you."

"And I should trust that you are not going to exploit me like you are warning against?" Her eyes narrowed with his words.

"Plainly put, I am exploiting you. I am using your healing prowess to save a people group who will be beneficial to us in the long run. Yes, I am using you. But you offered your life and service to the cause. You will do as I say or should I believe that your word is false?"

She recognized him pulling rank on her. Everything he said was true. And she could not argue. She bowed her head. "Yes, my lord. My word is true. You shall not fear otherwise. My life is yours."

He stood, putting a hand out to her and helping her up. "You realize that by swearing your life to this cause that no matter what happens you will not stray?"

"Yes, my lord," she answered puzzled by his statements.

"Good. I will permit you to attend our last meeting tonight. I feel like you should know certain happenings." He led her by her arm back inside in silence. "Do you need a break before we convene?" he asked her as they stood outside his study, flanked by two of his guards.

"No, my lord. Were you testing me? Judging my reaction to the vision?" She scowled at the thought.

"Yes. I was looking for a certain level of maturity and dedication. You passed, if you were curious." The room she was led into was occupied by her mother, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Boromir, Gandalf, Telthedir, Minuialwen, Frodo, Goldor, and Erestor. She took the chair next to her chieftain while Elrond sat beside her mother. They were the political powerhouses, for no other gathered were the leaders of their people.

Elrond pulled a parchment from his robes, studying it carefully before speaking. "I have received word from Prince Theodred of Rohan. He informs me that the healers sent to Rohan are welcome, but only two may pass. I have spoken to Coran, Telthedir and Minuialwen before this meeting. Coran and Telthedir are the ones who will be assigned this task. As I have told Minuialwen, she will assist Lady Eryniel and those of Mirkwood. He also wishes me to know that Dunlendings have been spotted bearing the White Hand of Saruman. They have been pilfering but not much more. Though, he fears that with time, Saruman will have amassed an army large enough to match the growing numbers of Mordor, leaving Rohan to fall to him. With his father's failing health, Theodred fears for his people. How do we address this?"

Aragorn raised his voice first. "Abandon the quest to heal the ailments of Rohan. Telthedir will not be able to ensure Coran's safety, neither can Theodred. Although Theodred might welcome them, if Théoden King is as sick as his son says, they may not be welcomed by the King. I think sending them will do no good. This information has changed the nature of the quest. It might as well be a suicide mission." His hardened features settled on no one. He had just proposed to leave those in need of help to suffer their fate. Since when did he make such brash decisions? Since when would he abandon those in need?

Not surprisingly, Coran challenged him. She did a lot of that lately. Months ago, she would not have questioned him. If Feredir was alive, she would not dare cross her Chieftain. Even now, in front of her mother, it was acceptable to counter his judgment. But unlike her other outbursts, she was quiet and reserved, which made Aragorn listen to her until she was finished. "You would deny others treatment based off my unsure safety? Since when do the Dúnedain shy away from compassion and commitment based off their cowardice and fear for their own well-being? I swore an oath to see this done. I will not back away now because of concern for my safety. Do not talk of suicide missions if you are to go on one yourself. I cannot understand why my safety is questioned where yours is not. And if I can save but one person, I will have considered my quest successful."

"But you cannot save everyone. You will be of better help to our people. I think Estel will agree that you should return with me to the North." Her mother offered. Her eyes narrowed with contempt at Coran's previous words. The nerve of her daughter to question their King! She raised a better child. Where had this disobedience come from?

"My tie to the North was severed when Feredir had his head removed by the Witch King! I will never return to the land of our forefathers while this evil exists in this world. I have sworn loyalty to Frodo and to Middle-Earth! The Dúnedain are no longer my masters. I am a servant to all and I will attend to the task set before me. I do not fear death or torture." Coran stood, fire ablaze in her eyes. She had found her determination renewed. She was wary about their task, but it would not dissuade her. She had found her courage while kneeling in front of the Seeing Pool. She had convinced herself and Elrond that she was capable of doing what was required of her. She knew now of the possible outcomes of her quest. Feredir would have wanted this for her. And he would guide her through it.

"Then what do you fear, my lady?" Aragorn drew himself up to sit in his chair straighter, regarding her as a parent would a child who was about to make a mistake.

All eyes turned to her, some calculating, some sympathetic, some not able to meet her gaze. As she looked around at all of them, she confessed. "That one more of those I love will die early deaths, that this war will never end, that the darkness will consume us all and leave us to rot in chains. And I fear uncertainty. But that is not an excuse to abandon others and abandon hope. The people of Rohan fear much more than uncertainty, for they are certain their villages are being plundered and their women raped and men killed. They are certain that the shadow of Saruman is growing. They fear for the health of their people and the well-being of their land and the continuation of their very culture. Where they have no hope, I can offer some. It may be just an inkling of hope in comparison to the enormous and engulfing darkness, but it is enough to spark a fire."

"I have heard enough. Lady Coran is well fitted for this journey. She is willing to do what every one of us in the Fellowship is willing to do for the sake of our world, for the sake of freedom. She has honor and integrity, and above all immense compassion. Surely, there is no one better than her for this task," Boromir announced. She was glad he had vouched for her. Not a long time ago, he had still questioned her appointment, but through getting to know her, she had proved him wrong.

The dwarf supplied his opinion too. "Aye, let the lassie go. She has proved herself enough to you, Aragorn."

After some consideration, he turned to her, dropping his voice low, his Sindarin thick with emotion. "I fear for you, my own. You are my daughter, my child, as are all Dúnedain. But I see that you cannot be dissuaded from your stubbornness. I will allow you to go. You have grown here. You are strong. And Feredir would be proud as I am proud."

"I have spoken to Lórien and to our commanders here. We are willing to supply an army either to aid Rohan or to aid the North. We will go where we are needed," Erestor chimed in. "Though I feel that the North is in dire need of our services."

"What is going on in the North, mother?" Coran eyed her mother with suspicion. She was here because something terrible was happening.

"The Witch-King of Angmar is planning to take the North. He is the one who stabbed Frodo at Weathertop. The free lands will be attack on all fronts: in the North, in Rohan, in Gondor, and in Dale. This is a full-fledged war and we must be willing to aid all countries. For if one falls, we may all fall." Elrond answered her. "We must all understand our purpose and place in this war. For if we stray from them, I fear for the success of the others. We balance very carefully on the edge of a knife."

Coran was confused. When she had left her village, there were plenty of Rangers stationed in the surrounding areas and in other villages to be considered an army, albeit a small one. "I know our numbers are dwindling, but can the North not protect themselves from our enemies?"

Her mother spoke. "There have raids in the nights and skirmishes. Many of our own have perished. Most of the villages closest to outside our borders have been destroyed and the refugees made for our village. We now have the largest population and our resources are dwindling. We cannot hold out against a full-fledged attack, at least without aid."

"We will send our forces first to the North, with your blessing, my Lord Elrond," Erestor inclined his head to the elf.

"Of course, I will grant action to that proposal. Does anyone have any objection to this course of action?" There were no answers. "We have a long fight ahead of us."

Coran was the first to leave, troubled by the information brought up in the meeting. Most of them had probably already known about the attacks in the North, upon Dale and Rohan. Yet, they had kept quiet and said nothing to her. She felt betrayed, but she knew it was for the best. She did not need to know about the bigger problems. She needed to focus on her task and it alone. She could not be concerned with the larger things as she would be consumed by them.

"Coran!" Her mother's voice shook her from her stupor as she began to walk to the Hall of Fire, where most nights she retired to in order to seek some release through song. She stopped in her tracks, not turning back to face her.

The older woman did not come any closer to her daughter as she did not recognize her as her daughter anymore. The woman with hunched shoulders and a slow gait was not the daughter she knew who would once smile and leap with joy at everything life had to offer. This was a woman who had suffered, who had lost something more than her life. She had lost her heart. Now she was different, stronger. She was just as reckless as she had always been, but now her heart and thoughts were darker. She took bigger risks. She scared her mother. Eryniel knew that Coran was willing to do anything for she had nothing to lose now. If she knew that Feredir was alive, she would not be as willing. Feredir, in both life and death, had been her anchor and her liberator.

And because of seeing this now, Lady Eryniel struggled whether or not to tell Coran of her father's fate. As she remained silent, Coran turned, casting a tired gaze in her direction. "What is it you want, mother?"

"I wish to tell you of your father." She still did not elaborate.

"What of him?" Where their fears confirmed? Was her father dead in a foreign land?

Lady Eryniel gave her a small smile. "He's returned. He's wounded but he's alive."

"Father lives?! How is he doing?" Coran's face lost all touches of sadness and tiredness. She regained her youthfulness and happiness.

"He's lost an arm. They fear he will struggle with pain and possible disease for the rest of his life. We do not have enough healers. They cannot heal everyone. You father also came back with his mind disturbed. He keeps reliving war. He has almost killed me twice. They cannot heal his mind."

"I am sorry. I cannot go home. It will not be me who heals him. I will tell Minuialwen his condition and ask her to help him specifically. I am truly sorry, mother."

"I cannot ask you to come home. I just wanted you to know that your father is alive."

Dark feelings began to shroud her heart. They had started to fester the moment she had accepted the quest as her fate and had seen the possible future in the pool. She was beginning to understand that in all probabilities, she would lose her life, or her sanity, or her hope. She was entering a war, stationed out on the frontlines. This would be different from the ambush the Nazgul had performed as they entered the Shire and also from the skirmish at Weathertop. The stakes had been raised, but she was prepared for battle this time.

She carried on a legacy. Her father fought for many decades against the evil that festered in Mirkwood, protecting it until he could not. Her sister, fierce and loyal, died protecting their true King. Even her grandfather and forefathers fought and died protecting those they loved and had sworn loyalty to. She would be no different. She had promised herself to fight, protecting Rohan, whether it be with sword or herb. And if it was needed, she was prepared to sacrifice herself to the cause.

With utter sincerity and deep passion, she told her mother, "I am never coming home." She turned, walking away, leaving her mother speechless in the middle of the hallway. And then she sought solace from the Shards of Narsil, the greatest protector of her people.