Chapter 2 - Easterling Spice Tea
Night had fallen on Rohan and the travelers decided to break until dawn. The trio quickly got to work setting up camp; a ritual which became routine during their long journey across Middle Earth. Vezely tended to her horse and found her flask to quench her thirst. She had been traveling for several months trekking through the flat lands of Rhovanian, braving harsher terrains away from water sources in order to stay out of Easterling militia marching grounds before skimming the borders of Mirkwood and coming south to Rohan. She was weary, though no more so than her present company; yet they seemed renewed by having regrouped with Gandalf, while also finding solace in the fact that two of their former traveling companions, hobbits of the Shire, were now relatively safe from harm. Vezely knew little about their former quest, though she suspected the One Ring was involved. She dare not ask for fear of garnering unnecessary suspicion. Her task was simple - to fight on their side in a war that would soon find them.
Aragorn had quickly started a small fire, which Gimli and Legolas provided kindling to. She quietly took a seat nearby, crossing her legs underneath her in a distinctly Easterling fashion.
"I think I shall sleep sound tonight," Gimli grunted as he sat down, feeling the past several days of tracking exhausting.
"And no doubt your snoring will dissuade everyone else from it," Legolas remarked bluntly, much to the amusement of the dwarf, who chuckled at his words. He then left with Aragorn to gather their supplies.
Having already pulled her scarf away from her face, she left it loosely on her head as one would a hood, preferring to keep her hair and ears hidden from sight. The light from the fire illuminated her pale face, while the whites of her eyes looked ghostly with the black liner. She quietly waited for the others to return, gazing solemnly into the fire.
"Wildmen are travelling in small bands, pillaging settlements on the western front," her voice broke the silence that continued even after they all gathered. Her eyes remained fixed on the flame. "They'll go from village to village if unhindered."
"Pledged to Saruman no doubt," Gandalf thought out loud.
Vezely nodded, "Yes, the man I queried yesterday said as much," having disbanded a small band of Wildmen the prior day during her travels.
"Your confirmation is appreciated," Gandalf said gratefully.
"It was a pleasure," she nodded forthrightly, having enjoyed the small battle she fought. Then seeking ease to her troubled mind, she asked wondering, "Yet the Rohirrim continue to ride north?" She had scouted their troop on her journey to Fangorn.
"That is precisely why we must reach King Theodon," Gandalf said assuredly, "Until then his people are at the mercy of Saruman's forces."
"The West continues to wait on its kings," Vezely remarked with slight disdain, narrowing her eyes on the fire, disliking far-reaching dictatorships. The East traditionally lacked central ruler ship before Sauron, instead it was divided into many fiefdoms and ruling clans. This way power was dispersed and the people were less likely to idealize their rulers as gods, though they were also easier to overthrow.
"And is the East any better lass?" Gimli inquired gruffly.
Vezely stared at him intensely for a brief second before smirking, "Not currently."
Gimli laughed, realizing perhaps she was not always serious.
Hoping to gather more information, Aragorn asked, "And this news you bring?"
Looking first to Gandalf for approval, Vezely explained, "It is as expected. The last of the Easterling resistance has all but fallen. Thousands of Easterling militia make their way to Mordor's Black Gates as we speak, no doubt to follow through on campaigns in Mirkwood and further North. Haradrim and the Corsairs of Umbar have their eyes on Gondor. Their numbers are great."
"Resistance? In the East?" Gimli queried, as if the rest of the news was expected.
Vezely replied steadily, "There has always been an outpost of free men around the Sea of Rhun. Morinehtar and Romestamo did all they could, and it was them who urged me to cross the Rhovanian to find Gandalf."
"You know the Blue Wizards?" Legolas asked suspiciously.
Looking at the elf slyly, she then smiled slightly, "If it were not for them, I would still be your enemy."
Legolas's eyes narrowed, wondering whether such a change was possible in one once so corrupted. "You have not yet proven contrary," he replied, finding the words leaving his mouth hastily, especially because right after he discerned a flash of apology in her eyes.
Vezely knew he had no reason to trust her outside of Gandalf's word. She had not been expecting to be confronted so quickly with a person from her past, despite the assault on the senses the West had already brought her since crossing over.
Gimli grunted, breaking the tension between the two elves. "Well before anyone proves anything, I'm getting some rest, seeing as we have another long day of riding awaiting us."
"Legolas, khila amin (follow me)," Aragorn stood up, hoping to remove Legolas from Vezely's presence for the time being.
As they left the fire, Aragorn calmly asked his companion, "There is bad blood between you."
"She killed my kinsmen," his voice sounded indifferent and cold, "It was my father who let her go."
Gandalf approached the men, placing a hand on the shoulder of Legolas, "King Thranduil would not condemn her fëa to eternal limbo in the Halls of Mandos, Legolas. Elves are by nature good. She is here to redeem that which is the light of your people."
Legolas assumed she had turned, though by what route he knew not. Then he asked unsure of the answer, "It is rumored she is descendent of Eluréd, one of the lost sons of Dior and Nimloth."
"Lord Elrond's line?" Aragorn hesitated, his eyes shifting to Gandalf.
"That is correct. When she was an infant, her parents were slaughtered by orcs in the very forests you spent your life protecting. And she was taken as a gift to Sauron, who had her raised as a warrior of the Balchoth all in order to prove again that the good in this world can be corrupted to do his bidding," Gandalf explained, hoping to shed light on her situation, "Her allegiance to her people and to Sauron was strong, and disconnecting from that past has proved most trying. If she seems off-centered, know it is not because she bids our people ill-will."
"Then she has my pity," Legolas replied guiltily, realizing now she had been a pawn in Sauron's plans.
"And she would not take it," Gandalf remarked bluntly, "She will appear brash and brazen to Elvish standards, her manners are Easterling. Yet she will do her part in this war. But you had good reasons to doubt her. As you might imagine, King Theodon may not take kindly to her presence and it should be his call whether she is allowed to live for her sins against his ancestors. It is hoped he will accept her sword. If not, I cannot protect her. She knows this and she accepts this."
Aragorn added considering, "If the stories of her are true, he would be a fool to deny her aid."
"Indeed," Gandalf agreed, hoping he had instilled some sense of calm in his companions. "Another reason why the Blue Wizards insisted on her relocation. There was little more she could do in the East after the resistance fell, but the West is in dire need of skilled warriors."
Meanwhile, Vezely prepared a place a little further from the fire, hoping to give her companions the space she felt she had encroached upon. She wanted to rest her mind, having been alert for days roaming through the orc and Wildmen-infested Rohan. She looked up at the stars before closing her eyes, finding some semblance of peace in the fact that they still appeared in Rohan, something she had missed since Shadow fell on Rhun, and since her captivity in Dol Guldur. Perhaps there is something worth fighting for, she thought before drifting off.
The next morning Vezely awoke early, hoping to tend to Gizik before setting out again. The black horse had accompanied her through many travels, and became a close friend and confidant in such times of isolation. She greeted her softly in Easterling tongue.
"What is her name?" Aragorn asked politely, approaching her from the side.
"Gizik," Vezely replied, her eyes on his, "In Westron it means storm, and she lives up to that name," she then smiled proudly, patting the horse on the nose.
Aragorn did likewise. "She is a rare breed in these lands," he noted, admiring the creature's graceful lines.
"She is a descendent of the horses of the Wainriders, charioteers, bred swift, fearless, and strong," Vezely stated while fastening her blanket to the back of the saddle.
Aragorn spoke to the horse in Elvish, causing her ears to perk up and her eyes to look upon Aragorn kindly.
"You speak Elvish well?" Vezely asked raising one eyebrow, slightly surprised by his fluency.
"I was raised by Elves for some time," Aragorn revealed humbly.
"I see. I was raised amongst Easterlings, I learned the Elvish tongue only recently," she remarked nonchalantly, throwing a glance at Legolas, who had also arisen and approached the area.
"'Quel amrun (good morning), Legolas," Aragorn greeted in his direction.
"'Quel amrun," he replied, taking the two Rohirrim horses further off, he acknowledged Vezely's presence with a small nod.
"I make him uncomfortable," she quietly spoke to Aragorn. "I do not blame him." She looked momentarily discontent, something Aragorn picked up - a small crack in her tough exterior, he thought.
"Here," Aragorn handed her a small leaf wrapped parcel, "You should eat something before heading out."
Vezely nodded in gratitude, taking and unwrapping the green leaf to reveal light colored bread.
"It's lembas, Elvish whey bread, a small amount will fill your stomach," he explained before leaving.
She stared at it momentarily, having seen it once before. Taking a small bite and swallowing she was again amazed by its nourishment, as if she had eaten a whole meal and could remain satisfied for hours. She rewrapped the leaf and placed it in her rucksack. Then taking Gizik by the reigns she regrouped with the others who were also preparing to ride out.
Over mountains and plains, the vast stretches of Rohan seemed to coalesce on one point. "Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld," Gandalf announced, slowing his horse's speed before their approach. "There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Théoden is now very strong."
Vezely followed behind the others as they entered the settlements below the Golden Hall. Villagers stared suspiciously at the odd mix of travelers; the silence allowed only their horse's hooves to be heard among the streets.
Gimli broke the silence further with a grim remark, "You'll find more cheer in a graveyard."
Dispensing their horses at the stables, which were perched high on the hill, they climbed the steps to the Golden Hall directly above. The view was breathtaking, providing a perfect view of the kingdom's expanses - a true seat of a king.
Gandalf, having already warned the others of holding their tongues, turned to Vezely, saying specifically, "Now, no mention of your identity until the right time presents itself. The king has enough to worry about without having to deal with an enemy of Rohan's past."
She nodded in agreement; concealing her identity had become routine in her present life and the reasoning behind her constant wearing of head gear. Her elven ears were always a problem amongst the company of men.
At the entrance, they were greeted by guards dressed in full armor. The men of Rohan were swarthy folk, wearing beards and unruly, long wavy hair.
The man in the middle spoke nervously but with a sense of duty and honor, "I cannot allow you before Théoden king so armed, Gandalf Grayhame. By order of… Gríma Wormtongue."
With a nod from Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli began removing their many weapons and giving them to the guards. Vezely did the same, though parting from them, even temporarily proved trying. Her eyes bore holes into the guard she gave them to, who looked at her bewildered, not knowing what to make of this strange Easterling woman who was armed so heavily.
The head guard again addressed Gandalf, "Your staff."
In all his cunning charm, Gandalf replied, "Eh? Oh. No, you would not part an old man from his walking stick?"
Perhaps knowingly, he allowed the old wizard to pass, staff intact. Gandalf gave a reassuring wink, taking Legolas's arm as false assistance as they entered the Golden Hall. A pale wretch of a man, with black greasy hair stood at the side of the wearied king, whispering in his ear. Undoubtedly a servant of Sarumon, Vezely thought while taking in his unsavory appearance.
As the conversation commenced, guards began encircling the group. Much to his dismay, Grima noticed Gandalf's staff causing the guards to attack them. The group fought back, allowing Gandalf safe passage to the king. Vezely kicked two guards high in the chest, sending them down on the ground; another she flipped effortlessly by grasping his fist and swiftly kicking his knee forward to throw him off-balance. Such a take-down maneuver reflected a Variag variant in fighting style that she was most fond of.
The head guard Hama ceased his soldiers from attacking them any further, allowing Gandalf to free his king from the evil bonds of dark magic. It was an alarming sight, watching the king transform back into his former self, only a shadow of the decrepit figure she first saw. With his strength returned, he cast Grima from the city. But as soon as he was informed of the death of his son, the revelry of the moment ceased. Further business would be delayed until Théodred, son of Theodon, was laid to rest.
In the time preceding the funeral, guards who once blocked their entrance to the Golden Hall were escorting them to communal quarters, though Gandalf remained in the main hall, further assisting Theodon with his grief. In the cabin, there were several tables and cots, and a wash room, which Vezely took advantage of in order to wash her face of its accumulated dirt from traveling. She removed her headscarf completely, and ran her fingers through her short hair. She did not conform to the standards of beauty in these lands, where long locks graced almost every head of female folk and most men, for that matter. For her hair was short; sheared off years past and maintained to disregard notions of caring about her appearance. Even though slightly outgrown now, a shorter cut also proved practical underneath Easterling headgear and preferable in the insufferable heat of Rhun's dessert where she was previously stationed. A few gold rings lined her ears, and their pointy tips barely peeked through her tresses; though one of those tips was missing - a wound which still held much anger. Her neck was long and graceful and her skin fair, as all Elves are, regardless of the time she spent in the harsh sun. Yet she had faint freckles painted delicately across the brim of her nose and cheeks; a rare trait among Elves and those with it were said to be painted by the stars. Elves were blessed with beauty and loved beautiful things, though she would prefer to dismiss such triviality and felt her Elf-like appearance was more of a burden in the culture she was raised.
Having been left alone by the guards, she felt no need to replace her headgear immediately and stepped back into the main room among the three travelers.
Gimli looked on her in amazement, for a woman without long hair was uncommon, and such a stark contrast from Lady Galadriel, whose golden tresses enchanted him. "Well this is a rare sight," he mumbled while lounging in one of the chairs.
Legolas and Aragorn, who were not facing her way turned to see what Gimli was referring to. Legolas looked upon the woman he remembered prior to her leaving his home in Mirkwood. Her hair was the darkest color of the richest tilled earth; her skin with the subtle markings of the stars. Back then her hair was shoulder length, as was customary for Easterling women. Its loss, however, did not distract him from re-acknowledging that he held a mild interest in her exotic appearance. While it was common for Elves to delight in the beauty of others if they should possess it, he realized this was not simply admiration. Even if a weak attraction, it was a thought that further conflicted him now as it did then.
Vezely was instantly aware of their brief stares, for her unhidden appearance always elicited them. She narrowed her eyes slightly perturbed before completely ignoring them. Holding her head high, she moved towards her rucksack, which she placed in the opposite corner of the room. She leaned on her knees, her back facing them, which displayed the tattoos of Easterling script centered down her spine. Legolas took note of these markings and grew curious as to their meanings, while also taking notice to her missing ear tip; the sight of which disturbed him.
She removed a small tin from her pack which contained crushed tea leaves and spices. She had already put a kettle of water on the fire when they arrived.
"Some sort of tonic?" Gimli asked curiously, for food and drink was always on the dwarf's mind.
"I suppose. It's quite a common drink in Rhun with many variations." She grabbed a few more cups after putting the mixture into the kettle to brew.
Gimli grabbed the tin she placed on the table, cocking one eye up as he smelled its contents. "Cinnamon, and cloves?" He declared, surprised as he tried to grasp the mixture.
"And some nutmeg. Often it's served with milk and honey," Vezely added politely, as she began pouring the hot mixture into the cups. "It's a winter drink, to keep one warm on a winter night."
"These spices are uncommon West of Rhovanian," Aragorn remarked, taking the cup and enjoying the scent.
"And you forgot expensive," Gimli added joyful to soon taste it; commenting on how trade between East and West had slowed to such a point that it became nearly impossible to obtain such spices.
Vezely handed a cup to Legolas, holding it out to him with two hands in a Easterling gesture of respect. She did not say a word, nor did he when he took it, also with both hands, nodding politely at the exchange. She smiled slightly in recognition of his returned polite gesture. It was small moment Aragorn and Gimli picked up on, and both were grateful Vezely was making an effort to ease the tension between herself and their companion, for such would be needed if she were to continue with them on their journey.
"Some say the East is full of wealth. Perhaps that is true to an extent," Vezely finally replied to Gimli's assertion, after taking a seat next to Gimli.
"Well, you certainly wear your gold lass," Gimli said amused at her earrings and gold rings.
She looked at him furtively before holding up her hand in front of her face to admire its adornments, "It is customary for Easterling warriors to wear their clan-wealth or talismans stolen from their enemy's dead bodies. It is said to strike fear in those who would oppose them."
"Psychological warfare," Aragorn stated considering what he knew of Easterling military strategies.
"Those golden hordes would not make dwarves quake," Gimli said assuredly, sipping the brew only to burn his tongue.
"Perhaps not," she replied amused, and then looking at him with a raised eyebrow, "Of course, they would not have the dark elf witch of the Balchoth to lead them."
"She's almost as cocky as you," Gimli remarked jokingly, referring to Legolas who also smirked at the comment.
Aragorn chuckled and then added encouragingly to the woman, "You'll fit right in."
Vezely smiled and stared down into her cup before looking up at Legolas, meeting his blue eyes for a brief moment. She did not know what to make of it, but something stirred in her that moment and she had a hard time pulling her eyes away. He was curious about her and the time in between their first meeting, as she was of him for she had not been in the company of Elves. Yes, she was Elvish by blood but so far removed from their culture.
Cheered by the tea, Gimli began questioning Vezely of trade in Rhun, curious of their dealings and Vezely provided him any knowledge she had. It was small talk located well outside their current tasks, but it provided a mental respite much needed in these times. It also relieved Vezely of discussing any other specifics of her past. During this chat, the travelers gained a sense of her amicability; she was not quarrelsome as they may have expected, simply of a different culture.