33 | The Variags of Khand

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Arwen Undómiel | The Evenstar

Location: Minas Tirith, Gondor, Middle Earth, Arda

Time: April 2981 T.A

There was not a second wasted when it came to their plan.

Even if their plan was barely one and comprised of chances, risks and not enough stealth that could get them caught. They hadn't realised how exhausted they were since their intense travel to the White City until everyone laid to rest in the attic and fell asleep.

Arwen woke up first, racked up with more visions and dreams that instead of dwelling on them she ignored for now. Thinking about the vividness of her dreams was not going to help them get up to the Citadel. And it definitely would not help when she had planned to find the tree.

Nevertheless, after waking the rest up and packing the essentials of their belongings, Boromir and Tazhin bid their farewell and readied to head up first towards the upper levels of the city. That left her and Pippin to find a way to sneak past whilst the two would distract and divert the Variags away from them.

That was their plan... which she knew Tazhin was still hesitant about.

Though Arwen understood her doubts. Who would when their so-called plan consisted of a Peraini, a healer, a captain, and a hobbit?

Thankfully nobody stated out loud how out-matched they were against what could be dozens of people on horseback.

But deeply, she knew that there was something behind which concerned her healer friend more. The fact that they were Tazhin's people was obvious; she explained to them who the clan could be and how big it might be. Though beneath the layer of the worry that they would be up against a group Tazhin knew it was also something more important.

How connected was Tazhin to the people she once belonged to?

However, Arwen didn't find the time to single her out. Not when Boromir could barely leave any of them alone – not even to go relieve themselves. If Arwen had the nerve to say it: the Gondorian was even more of a mother hen than her father.

With Pippin at her side as close as possible, with hoods up, Arwen kept her concentration intact, allowing a layer of magic to surround them as they briskly walked up the city. The concealment spell would last enough for them to reach for a hidden alleyway, which would then allow Arwen and Pippin to rest for a few minutes until they would continue upwards and find where the Variags could be hiding prisoners.

Even when it was dead silent, only the howling of the winds as they rose higher up to the city, everything felt deafening to her. Her heart was palpitating, beating faster as they passed a pair of guards in their armour and a set of guns. Arwen held her breath in horror at the sight of the Earth weapons.

If Saruman was able to create some through Baron Mordo's assistance, how Sauron or Morgoth managed was beginning to cause fear within her mind. The dark lord knew of the other world and they knew how to either retrieve them or make them entirely.

As much as she was patient, her partner was making it harder for her to not tug him and carry him to the next point. Peregrine Took had always been one to have his mind linger too long at things, distracted and sometimes a little too childish.

She couldn't blame him. He was a child and he should never be here nor ever tried to go with them from Rivendell.

Though the moment he popped out of the blue, seeing the guilt and determination upon his face back in Edoras: Arwen could not deny she felt proud and thankful for him. He was doing something he was terrified of, hiding it as much as he could all whilst trusting not only her but himself with this entire ordeal. Back in Edoras and throughout the time she knew of him, Pippin always had Merry. At every meal they shared or the times she would see them smoke or sing songs or even simply share tales with the rest of the Fellowship. Pippin did not need to be afraid because he had a brother next to him.

Now he chose to embark alone. He chose to leave to protect the people he loved too.

Just as she did.

It did not mean it was going to be easy, even as they meander amongst the tiny alleyways and through the open gates, it was getting harder and harder to nudge Pippin at the same fast pace. They crossed another winding street until they had no choice but to get through another set of gates.

Guarded on each side, the Variags were watching though preoccupied with their conversation. Arwen and Pippin leaned against the wall of a building, clouded by her magic which was slowly depleting. They only needed to get through the gate and afterwards: they could venture further through the small alleyways towards where Boromir said they could meet with them.

'You must remain very close to me,' Arwen instructed into the young hobbit's mind and she felt a confirmation.

As she held the hobbit's arm tightly, she inhaled and allowed the concealment to strengthen.

There was little difference she could tell between the racing heart of Pippin or her own or the way the guards could almost somehow appear to be sensing their presence. Even with the quick yet silent steps they took, her breath was almost as sonorous as a horn through a cavern, echoing through her mind as they got closer towards the opening.

The Variags remained unknown to them, continuing with their conversation until one of them paused.

Her breath cut off.

Both Arwen and Pippin then too looked at each other.

The seconds went through as she sensed one of the guards begin to murmur, an emotion of confusion lingering in their heads as they looked straight where they were.

All Arwen could do was curse internally.

The guard with the complicated braids gripped his spear slightly tighter as he slowly walked towards them. Though as he began to almost go straight through them, Arwen then held her breath and reached her hand out with a gentle flick.

Out of nowhere, a sound erupted from across the street. After a few seconds, she glanced to her right as she watched one of the wooden doors of a house reverberate.

With heads spinning cautiously, the guards then looked at one another before grabbing their weapons and striding in the direction of the noise. Arwen took no less time as she tugged Pippin by the arm – causing him to yelp.

The guards then stopped.

Her hand clamped across his mouth as both realised what they had done, and along with the other, she stretched it out and send a small spell across the same area. All of a sudden, a window burst out, shooting glass upon the ground. The guards thankfully turned and headed away, running instead.

She then pulled Pippin along, shouting mentally to keep running until they were as far as they were from the gates. Once they made it around a small alcove, Arwen allowed the enchantment around them to fall – causing her body to somehow shake with exhaustion.

Her hands grasped her knees tightly, letting out puffs of breaths as she tried to bring her heart rate down.

That was too close. Too close for their good and hadn't the guards taken more focus on the building they would have caused more problems.

But they were running out of time. Both Tazhin and Boromir were waiting for them up at the top and they had to find the location of the prisoners before the next phase of the moon.

Once Arwen allowed her breath to come back to normal, she sent a thought to where Pippin was and told him they had to keep going.

She then stopped as she noticed her friend had not been next to her.

Searching, her body relaxed the moment she saw the small silhouette crouching against the pillar.

"Pippin?"

However, nothing was said in return and her concern followed her until she knelt and removed her hood from her head. Arwen then saw his face: his eyes filled with tears as he tried to hold them back. His breathing was growing rapid and heavy, his chest lifting high up whilst she tried to curl into himself more and more.

"I...I should never have come." Pippin spoke quietly, "I don't know what I was thinking. I-I thought that if I wasn't with them, he wouldn't know who was who, and who would have the ring and I..."

His words were cut off as he let out a choked sob, his hands cupping his face.

Arwen's heart filled with guilt. Her determination and adamance for this plan to work had been the first part of her mind that she had forgotten one thing. That not everyone knew what she thought or felt and her instinct to take Pippin only to protect him had perhaps shown to him that he wasn't trusted to do this.

"I'm sorry." He wiped his face with his cloak, muttering as well: "Everything I do is cause more trouble."

Oh how far it was.

She breathed in, placing her hand gently upon his shoulder. As she did, Pippin gazed up at her with glistening eyes.

"My mentor – Lady Galadriel – always believed that we all have a purpose in this world. May it be from the tiniest insect to the largest animals that roam the lands of the south. Everyone has a role to play." Arwen told him, her courage growing and sharing towards him, "And I believe you, Peregrine Took: are important. Just as Merry is, and Sam...and Frodo."

It had been so long. Weeks? Perhaps months...and too realise then how far they were.

And just like her: they all changed. Changed in ways she hadn't noticed or perhaps it was because they have constantly been running. Running to places that needed them. Places they believed could be saved. Thinking about the last two hobbits, Arwen still sensed the doubt which lingered since they left Rohan.

Everyone who left would not believe whatever they've done would aid the war. Nor Arwen's choice to go towards the enemy's front doors all because she had seen a vision.

"They didn't believe you when they said Frodo and Sam were in danger." Pippin encouraged as his voice returned, hope in his voice as he whispered, "That you could help them. But I have seen you. I've seen you with your brothers and your mother. You're amazing, Arwen."

Once her heart swelled, her eyes softened before her lips twitched to a kind smile.

Cupping both her hands atop his, Arwen quietly replied, "Thank you, Pippin." She inhaled, shuddering afterwards before she added, "I do not know how much I could do, but I will do all I can to divert his eyes from them."

It was only a few moments they had sat there, but even then Arwen felt ten times better than ever before. This small exchange between her and someone who had always been filled with happiness and youth had done something which gave her one thing.

Hope.

That was the purpose of Pippin. Just as Merry, Sam and Frodo did. Hobbits may not be warriors, rulers, or hunters. Nor the envision of pure good and evil. They were the embodiment of hope and home despite being so far away and filled with a dark world of danger and death. Instead, there was light within them, even brighter than the glowing eyes of the Eldar themselves.

She had just not realised until now how simple and yet extraordinary it was.

After giving her hobbit friend a few more minutes and perhaps short bites of their rations, Arwen adjusted her weapons and pack before placing her hood back over her head. She glanced at the path they were about to take, presuming from the distance, and concluded that they would have enough obstruction to hide by the patrolling Variags.

So with Pippin back on his feet and the two of them sharing a silent nod: they returned to their journey up to the citadel.

But here was the thing which was in Arwen's head throughout the entire journey from Edoras to Minas Tirith.

And that was everything that seemed to be working (eh, partially) to their side of the odds. Which was...well: good per se. Good in terms that despite the slip-ups and the unfortunate realization that the Variags of Khand now occupied the White City.

However, when comes a long period of the calm sea will then go crashing down as a tidal wave hits the shore.

That was when the unexpected occurred.

Arwen was certain they were unseen, considering she and Pippin were silent in terms of their footsteps. Their cloaks hid their faces, hiding in the darkness and doing their best to be as far from the main road up to the top of the city as possible.

But as soon as they turned towards a slightly open square...that was when everything seemed to go downhill.

A pair of Variags noticed them immediately, barking orders for the rest to chase them through the empty city. As Arwen pulled Pippin to her shoulders, she told him in his mind to hold on tightly and they would have to clamber up to the buildings and make it as far as they could into one of the mountain tunnels.

Pippin suggested that she should use the same spell she conjured an hour ago but she retorted that it had taken her minutes to place full concealment on them.

'We need to lose them before we could get up,' Arwen panted before flinging one of the main doors into what seemed to be a shop. Her eyes darted about, relief in her eyes when she noticed the ladder and trapdoor.

As she picked Pippin up, she urged him to climb before following him up. Before she did, she quickly reached outwards to use her magic to close the door, jamming it with the many bags of flour and barrels lying about.

Once Pippin hissed up to her, Arwen clambered upwards and the two entered the abandoned attic of a townhouse. Dust particles floated about as she ushered them towards a window, using her hand to close the trap door. As she then brought Pippin back upon her shoulders, Arwen didn't dare to turn around as she heard voices growing.

There they ran. They ran upon the rooftops of Minas Tirith under starlight, knowing that the Variags would soon discover where they were.

As Arwen leapt through another building, she then heard a cry before she felt the air speed around her. She turned around and saw them. Arrows were drawn at her whilst the others raised swords. She was grateful that the arrows had merely missed her by several feet.

'Hold on!'

Pippin didn't need to be told twice by the time Arwen inhaled through her nose and allowed her ingolë to flow through her. Her magic heightened her body, her senses allowing her to speed up and leap further than before across the city. She didn't dare to turn back this time, knowing that there would be more waiting for her down on the ground.

Though as they were bound to reach the high walls of the next gate, Arwen mentally swore and spotted them.

About a dozen of Variags spotted them upon the top of the wall, with bows ready.

Gradually she reached her hand for Hadhafang whilst the latter brought Pippin down upon the roof tiles. She didn't want to do this, and merely for the sake of conserving energy...but taking more blood was not something she wished to do again.

However, they had no choice. They were surrounded.

She looked down at Pippin before projecting a thought to him. 'Stay close to me.' Arwen nudged her sword with a gesture. 'Remember what Boromir and Aragorn taught you.'

When she saw him nod, that was her signal to begin.

Arrows flew across the air at the same time Arwen conjured a translucent shield around them. With her hand remaining outwards, she told Pippin to charge and head towards the top of the wall. She made sure Pippin landed safely and not long she jumped across before sending a blast of light at the incoming enemy.

Their eyes widened with surprise, but not long before they yelped and were thrown over the wall with an echo. Arwen did not give any more time as she raised her sword to block a sword coming from behind, pushing away before swiping the guard's legs. With another blast of light, the man cried out in pain as they covered their eyes. And with another shove with her foot, she pushed the Variag down to the ground – ignoring the massive thud as their body slammed upon the stone ground.

She glanced over her shoulder, relieved that Pippin seemed to be fine as he plunged his short sword into the Variag's knee. With a startling cry, Arwen rushed towards her friend and reached her hand outwards, bringing a small wave from across her arm and forcing the enemy to fly back.

As she looked around them, noticing that there were more running towards them, she knew they could not fight here and needed to keep running.

So as she nudged Pippin in her direction, the two of them raced down to one of the tower gates and prepared to fight down to the ground.

One of the guards was already running, and Arwen had to mentally apologise for blinding them in such a situation. As the light shoved them backwards, both Pippin and Arwen winced as they heard them falling down the spiral staircase.

They looked at one another one more time.

That did not sound pretty at all.

Anyhow, they managed to get down with enough time. They ran through the next level of the city until they reached what seemed to be an open square.

That was when Arwen knew they couldn't run anymore.

There were more than a dozen Variags already around them, weapons gripped and arrows aimed towards their heads. One of them even held nothing that seemed with a flute, though she merely felt confused as to why they were smirking.

As she readied herself, she placed her hand on Pippin's shoulder and concentrated.

If there was one person to get out here safely – it was her friend.

With enough of her concentration, she concealed the hobbit with her magic before letting out a grunt and raising her hand towards the nearest Variag before her.

They suffocated her, pushing forwards as she tried to push each one of them down. Both staff and sword in hand, she had already almost all of them down before she realised that Pippin had been standing with a ready sword.

Fear in his eyes.

Fear and guilt to be exact.

Instead of assuring him, Arwen had no time but to send one last cry to him.

'Run Pippin!' She urged him before blocking another curved sword from impaling her ribs. 'I will find you!'

She didn't know how long Pippin had been gone since she fought. And even then, more and more Variags seemed to appear from her periphery.

Until she felt a prickle in the back of her neck, causing her eyes to go hazy and the world to blur.

Arwen's body grew weak, her legs wobbling as she reached to grab what had been shot. In a short glimpse, she felt what seemed to be a needle attached to feathers.

And before long she felt the world collapse around her and the sound of her weapons clattering onto the stone ground.

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Location: Caras Galadhon, Lothlorien, Middle Earth, Arda

Time: 1995 T.A

She lunged towards him with an internal growl.

With her foot stepping forwards, the staff in her hand swung around hoping to aim towards the side of her opponent's side. Instead, it hurled into the air, throwing herself forward into the space before she pivoted around.

Arwen inhaled sharply and glared. She adjusted herself once more, letting her eyes narrow at their grey gaze whilst she then inhaled and thrust herself into motion.

They danced again, though not a dance that she once learned back home. Not the type which involved flowing dresses and the gentle strum of harps and flutes. No. This was a dance of anticipation and possible death, continuously bringing her staff closer whilst being black by the dual sticks her opponent kept. A dance that was filled with adrenaline, anger, and strife. There was no relaxing sensation of it; not what her brother Elladan used to describe when he returned from sparring.

Frustration was growing, making her grit her teeth more and her body move more aggressively against them. She had sparred before, against her family no doubt. Elladan was more to do with power and endurance whilst Elrohir was quick and fluid. Her mother was tactical but quick and sharp with her movements. Compared to her father who was observant, but clear and precise with his shorter and more careful attacks. Then there was her uncle: who no doubt was the hardest and tiring one to go against, constantly keeping her on her toes.

The opponent she had right now was a mix of her brothers though with the determination of her uncle, always keeping her focus and her movements to continue as he dodged and swept through the small training ring.

Arwen wasn't sure what was preventing her from hitting. She had memorized his movements, the weakness of his right side slightly obvious after several training rounds.

But every time she tried to go for it he would block it.

She had closed her mind as well, her voice retelling herself to keep continuing; find another weak spot, until she swung once more and aimed for his ribcage.

Her breath was cut short as something solid hit her stomach.

Arwen lurched back, stumbling back before she had no choice but to block the incoming staff. She gripped both her hands at either end, having to rotate her staff further before she then pushed him back with a hitched breath.

Unfortunately, he didn't throw back far, shifting into a steady stance before he then lunged before she could adjust.

And in just a few seconds, she found herself stumbling back after trying to shield herself from a blast of light. Though instead of a gentle shimmer she had learnt to protect herself, out came a small blast...pushing herself back instead of him.

Arwen landed on the ground with a groan, the staff rolling out of her hand. As she reached up her hand to conjure a ball of light, she found both staffs aimed at her neck – with the ellon's face staring down at her.

Lost again this week.

It was there she anticipated the person's voice from the edge of the open space.

Standing on the other side was the Lady of Lothlorien, her head looking blankly at her. Though inside, Arwen could tell that she was disappointed.

Her heart clenched as the heat rose from her face. Arwen was sweaty and exhausted, having done this since dawn and it was almost the end of the afternoon. And all she had been given was looks which told her that she needed to be better.

As Arwen lowered her hand and swung up to her feet, she wiped her tunic and trousers from the dust as she heard her mentor call out, "You are channelling your anger." She told her: "Your anger with the grief of your mother's death—"

"It is not as simple as you may think." Arwen didn't realise that it came out harsher unless her sparring partner didn't look at her with a stern expression. Clearing her voice, she corrected back when she faced her, "My lady."

Lady Galadriel did not seem fazed, or maybe she was hiding it well before she glanced over to the ellon. She then gestured with her hand calmly, "You are dismissed for today, Haldir."

The Marchwarden stood with a stoic posture, nodding curtly before glancing back to Arwen. He then took a step towards her, handing out her staff before she took it with a mental thank you to her. With a small, encouraging look, Haldir bid farewell and left the clearing.

Now she was alone with the Lady of Light, breathless and muscle aching. Not to mention her ego was wounded by how she ended up on her behind.

Yet despite how frustrated she was, to herself and perhaps just to anyone around her, Galadriel remained fixated upon her face with the most neutral expression – waiting for her to calm down. Perhaps. Arwen wasn't sure as all she could do was allow the anger to dissipate into confusion and annoyance.

The Lady of Light knew what she was thinking about.

"Speak of your mind, young one," She spoke.

Her shoulders slacked as she shoved the blunt and worn wooden staff down to the ground as Arwen stared at the ground. Her eyes stung, tears threatening to prickle out as she let her heart quench in anguish and pain.

Because that was all she felt for years. Twenty whole years of mourning. Grieving for the death of her mother.

"Why?"

Her voice cracked slightly as she squeezed her eyes and breathed in.

Arwen asked out loud, "Why does it hurt so much? Losing someone..."

She denied it for as long as she could, refusing to come to Lothlorien every time her father and uncle urged her to come here and heal. Though the moment she stepped into the Golden Wood, it was as if the peace caused a flood of emotions to expel her.

Her cheeks were wet the moment she looked up, noticing now that the Noldorin lady had moved closer to her.

Galadriel's gaze was as soft as her voice. "Because it was real," She continued, "To lose someone is like cutting the bonds of your heart. Your spirit had always entwined with them."

"She promised us she would never leave. That she would always be with us," Arwen whispered.

"And she will always do." She firmly told her, "No matter where you are, your mother and father and those you love shall always think of you, be there when you cannot see them."

As her grip against her staff faltered, Arwen flickered her eyes away. Even when she felt assured, all she felt as if she was alone – deep into an abyss she could not escape.

"How does one heal from this?" Her lips trembled, trying to think of the words that seemed right. "To get out from the darkness?"

Lady Galadriel replied, "Small steps." She continued, "Even small things, little acts of kindness and light will always change the course of the world. And I believe that we all have a purpose, from the smallest beings to those who wield minds and love."

There was a kind smile resting upon the Lady of Lothlorien's lips.

"Even you, Arwen Undómiel, may seem so small right now," Galadriel kindly answered, "But I know that with every choice you make you shall grow and become the change this world shall have."

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The first thing Arwen did was groan in such an unladylike matter that she knew Erestor would tell her off.

However, she didn't care simply because she had no idea what in Arda happened and where she was. Her vision was still returning, surprised at how it was taking her some time to adjust. Though once she felt the world wasn't spinning, she focus on one singular point in front of her until she saw her surroundings finally in stature.

That was when she began to recollect what had happened.

Something – a small weapon – had hit her and knocked her unconscious in a matter of seconds. Though smaller than an arrow but bigger than those bullets she saw back in Helm's Deep, the dart had barely cut through her. Instead, all she felt was a bruise on the back of her neck.

But as she tried to reach her hand back she was stopped by a force against it. Arwen then glanced downwards and soon the coldness and sweat seeped in. Her entire body was chained up. From her hands clasped with heavy metal cuffs tied in front of her as well as her feet together, even her torso was wrapped by rope and chains against something cold.

When she finally looked at her surroundings she noticed she was in what was a great hall. Lanterns and chandeliers lit the entirety of the grand hall, and she finally spotted the statues made of white marble and stone across the multiple pillars. The other side mirrored where she sat, with many dark pillars which had statues between them.

Statues that were already damaged and vandalized by blood, burns and broken pieces.

There was a lingering smell, stagnant and cold as she tried to sense her hands and toes. Everything was gone from her apart from the clothes she wore. Her weapons and pack were gone, only to hope that her staff and sword were not in the hand of someone incompetent (which was practically every one of those who assumed to cause harm to her).

As she finally finished looking about, Arwen stopped as she glanced to her left.

Chained up in the same position as her – upon the bottom of a statue – was her friend.

He appeared worse than she would have known. His face was littered with cuts and what seemed to be a growing bruise on his right cheek. His hair was dishevelled, strands hanging over his face he hung his head low.

Panic rose from her throat and she could not help but croakily call out to him.

"Boromir..."

Thank Eru he had turned, his eyes widening whilst Arwen let out a breath of relief.

This man had already frightened her plenty of times and she did not need him to be on the verge of death again.

Not for the sake of her health.

"Ar—Elenníca." He called out with a hoarse tone, clearing his throat before he asked, "Are you alright? Where is—"

'Pippin is alright. I told him I will find him soon and we will find a way to get the others out.' She decided to speak to him in his head instead. Because one thing the Variags did not know was that there was one other person free and roaming this place.

And considering she did not sense the presence of Peregrine Took, all she could assume was that he had done what she asked and hid.

Now all they had to do was figure out how to get out of there and find a way to get to the rest of the prisoners. If they were chained up here, it meant there must be more around here. Though all she could see were Variags lined across the hall, weapons in hand as there was the sound of two people talking in murmured volumes.

However, whilst Arwen was trying to produce some escape, Boromir halted her thoughts.

"I think we may have to consider changing that plan..."

His eyes averted out towards the end of the grand hall and Arwen followed, only to notice with shock who it was.

Standing in front of what seemed to be a throne were two people.

The taller one could almost be as tall as Boromir, though leaner in build and tanner by the way their skin almost appeared warmer in the candlelight. Their hair was as long as hers, braided back in a singular plait and tied back by various strings and coloured ropes. With clothes in hues of greens and browns, they comprised what seemed to be leather armour, tunic and trousers. Leather braces on their arms were strapped on whilst he almost stood in an imposing manner, causing the person before him almost ten times smaller than him.

Arwen could easily see as her eyes finally fully adjusted, seeing the full though neatly cut beard upon their face, eyes covered at what appeared to be face paint and eyes as dark as the dark stones of the pillars surrounding them. Even standing, he appeared grander than he wore, how his shoulders were held back whilst he had his hand at the hilt of his sword at every moment.

But what confused and shocked her was who was in front of him.

The Variag who she had stared at was speaking down at their one healer friend. The only other person of Khand they knew.

Tazhin was looking up at him, her face masked with a neutral expression as the man before he spoke in what was Khandish.

"Mailē timīlā'ī upahāra lyā'ēkō hō bhanēra jhūṭō bōlēkō chaina." Tazhin spoke out loud, causing Arwen and Boromir to look up. [1]

However, they weren't the only ones watching the interaction. Even the guards looked, their eyes peering over.

Questions ran through her mind as Arwen tried to interpret what was going down. She did not dare to even think of it, even if it was so obvious. But she couldn't. Not when she did not want her heart to break as she soon felt the sensation.

Tazhin was free...and there were not.

She must have done something.

A bargain. A plan perhaps.

"Sām̐ccai tapā'īnsam̐ga cha." [2]

His voice was deep and unexpectedly smooth. Despite the words seeming harsh in her elven ears, Arwen could interpret the tone to almost be...soft.

Respectful even.

"Tazhin." Arwen called out.

The healer's head turned to her, and to her expectations, she sensed the guilt growing in her friend's soul.

However, as much Arwen could sense more than others: it was not the same for the man chained next to her who too felt more confused and upset at this matter. And for someone like Boromir: he would only conclude the worst.

All Arwen could hope is the two would understand one another.

"Tazhin, what's happened?" Boromir questioned out loud, trying to look towards the healer as he continued, "What have you done—"

"Śānta, kukura!" One of the guards next to them had barked back. [3]

Boromir merely glared back, biting back his tongue as he did his best not to agitate them more. Instead, he searched for her mind, heading his thoughts out loud.

'Arwen, I didn't know what happened. We were about to head up to the Citadel until she knocked me unconscious.'

Oh, she knew...

Tazhin had known.

She had known they would fail.

The man beside Tazhin then spoke, "Tapā'īnlē malā'ī uhām̐kā chōrāharūmadhyē antima pani pā'unubhayō." His eyes wandered across to Boromir, a growing glint in his eyes as he said, "Ma yō ānanda linēchu kinaki usalē tinīharūlā'ī jalēkō dēkhcha." [4]

'I don't know.' Arwen lied.

She couldn't let Boromir know until she was certain of Tazhin's motive. Her senses of her fëa were jumbled, a mix of longing but also fear. And All Arwen could do now was presume one other thing.

'But what I believe from what I am hearing is that Tazhin knows who he is.' She thought back.

Boromir asked, 'Who?'

Gesturing with a nudge of her chin, both she and Boromir as both the Variag leader and Tazhin turned back to their conversation. The man placed a hand on Tazhin's shoulder, their eyes meeting once more as the words echoed around the room.

"Timī ahilē gharamā chau, mērō baccā." [5]

How his words almost felt comforting...welcoming even.

Like he knew her.

There was only a possible conclusion to that as Arwen sent a thought to the Gondorian captain.

'Boromir...' She gulped at first as she continued, 'I believe that she knows him.'

'How?'

Tazhin then placed her hand atop her chest, an expression of gratitude and pride as she then answered in return, "Ra malā'ī phirtā svāgata garnubha'ēkōmā ma tapā'īnlā'ī dhan'yavāda dinchu..." [6]

At that moment Arwen finally saw both their faces under clear lighting and let out a curse under her breath.

There was no doubt of similarity to their faces and gestures...and that was because who stood before the healer of Gondor was the father she had longed forgotten.

...Who was the leader of the Variags.

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[1] - 'मैले तिमीलाई उपहार ल्याएको हो भनेर झूटो बोलेको छैन।,' Means "I did not lie to you that I brought you a gift."
[2] - साँच्चै तपाईंसँग छ, Means "Indeed you have."
[3] - शान्त, कुकुर, Means "Quiet Dog."
[4] - तपाईंले मलाई उहाँका छोराहरूमध्ये अन्तिम पनि पाउनुभयो।, ... म यो आनन्द लिनेछु किनकि उसले तिनीहरूलाई जलेको देख्छ। Means "You found me the last of his sons." "I will enjoy this as he watches them burn."
[5] - तिमी अहिले घरमा छौ, मेरो बच्चा। , Means "You are home now, my child."
[6] - र मलाई फिर्ता स्वागत गर्नुभएकोमा म तपाईंलाई धन्यवाद दिन्छु ... , means "And I thank you for welcoming me back..."

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A/N: I am back. And it has been a STRESSFUL last few weeks. So apologies that I haven't updated this in a long time. 

This chapter was...a lot. A lot of action and a lot of self-reflection and background with not only Arwen but Tazhin, Boromir and Pippin too. I'm thinking of making a short one-shot (like Maedhros') about Arwen's own childhood and developing what happened post Illyria's first death and her return to RotM.

It might not be another week until I update again as I am busy. But rest assured we'll be finishing Part 3 soon. :)

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Edited: 23/07/2023