Chapter 4 - Scars and Wargs
The morning light was met by the king's guards urging the weary villagers from their resting places to their feet. Vezely jumped on top of Gizik and rode swiftly to the back of the line, followed by the two other scouts who had been on watch with her the previous day. The burlier one of them galloped his steed nearby, cutting off Gizik intentionally and giving Vezely an marked stare while his companion followed him after with a similar expression on his face.
Vezely returned their gaze through narrowed eyes.
"Women doing men's jobs, no wonder the Easterlings could never take our lands," he joked to his companion while yet in earshot of Vezely.
She followed behind them saying nothing, being terribly bored of men's insecurities on account of her gender.
The day continued quietly and Vezely kept her eyes fixed on the horizon behind them, ready to alert the king if any attack was imminent. Her companions continued their banter, throwing her stares from time to time, though she was content to ignore them.
Awareness of the oncoming warg attack hit Vezely's ears quickly and she immediately called to the two scouts, "We're under attack!" They didn't believe her until a wave of commotion traveled down the line of villagers who had begun panicking.
Vezely kicked Gizik into high gear, galloping forward toward the king and his guard. The two other scouts followed her lead, also kicking their horses into gear. She heard Theodon call all riders to the front of the column, commanding his niece Eowyn to continue to lead the villagers on to Helm's Deep.
She drove Gizik hard, reaching the others as they took off. She could see Legolas standing upon the far ridge, his bow angled high, releasing an arrow to its deadly task.
Vezely unsheathed her blade, relishing its feel in her hand again and consumed by her love of battle that had been bred into her by the Balchoth. She pointed her sword in front of her, her other hand on Gizik's reign, waiting for the collision of sides.
Bred brave and fast, Gizik had no trouble dodging out of the wargs' way but wary of their bite, Vezely jumped from Gizik onto the back of one of the foul creatures, slicing the throat of the Orc upon it and grabbing its reigns. This was not the first time she had ridden a warg.
"Da clomp!" she commanded the creature in crude Orc language, instantly turning it on its companion's riders. The warg responded steadfastly to her words, sensing her maturity as a rider, submitting to her will and reigning terror at her command.
In the midst of fighting, a spear hailed from afar hit the side of her beast, stopping it in its tracks. Leaping from its side and somersaulting softly to her feet, a feat that betrayed her human disguise, Vezely took the disadvantaged ground position. She caught a glimpse of the spear thrower; it was none other than her former scout companion. Sheathing her sword, she retrieved her sai from her boot's holders. The oncoming warg quickly found the thin blade in the side of it skull as she dodged its bite; the rider would find the other sas lodged into his gut, for the quick motion allowed her other hand to deliver an equally deadly jab.
The battle was winding down and the Rohirrim were finishing off the last of the riders who were attempting to save their skins by fleeing. Vezely then crossed paths with the scout, finding him retrieving his spear from the fallen warg she had been riding. Quickly turning, the man pointed the spear at her throat, "You are a witch!" he spat, "Riding that beast like second nature."
"Are you suicidal?" Vezely taunted sarcastically, a smirk on her face as her eyes were fixed on his to gauge his next move. Such a gesture would have quickly warranted death any other time, but she had to hold her ground in the current company.
Along with others, King Theodon took notice of the commotion, "What is the meaning of this? Ridar, speak!" He yelled from atop his white horse.
"She commanded this warg with foul tongue my lord. She is a witch," Ridar replied holding his chin slight higher but not removing the position of his spear.
"And she killed the enemy by doing so. Stand down!" Theodon commanded his guard, who immediately heeded his words and relaxed his spear.
Vezely's smirked slightly, she couldn't help but be amused by this man's easy defeat.
"Aragorn?" the company then overheard Legolas's call from afar, turning their attention from the previous commotion. Before galloping to where Aragorn and Gimli was stationed, Theodon cautioned Vezely, "I will deal with this later," knowing the situation was not yet resolved. Vezely nodded respectfully before he left.
"I'll be watching you," Ridar warned her further.
Vezely whistled with her two fingers to the wind; a signal for Gizik, who quickly returned to her side, after which she lept effortlessly onto the horse's back. "I hope for your sake, you are quick when you strike," she replied before kicking Gizik's sides to follow the king.
She would find Legolas and Gimli shell shocked at the apparent loss of Aragorn, with Theodon commanding they leave the dead and continue on. She was also at a loss for words, sensing the anguish of her two companions who lost a dear friend, and bearing the reality of losing a man who held rank and promise among the world of Free Men. She kept her distance from the scene, not interfering, nor knowing how to console if she did. Instead, she heeded Theodon's commands to aid the wounded and prepare them for the continued journey to the fortress.
Surveying the land, she found a soldier gasping for air, for his lung had collapsed from a side knife wound. He was coughing on his own blood and if left untreated, he would surely die from suffocation. Another soldier was by his side, applying pressure to his wound.
Assessing the situation, she stated assuredly "I need to cut a hole in your throat to allow you to breathe easier."
"You will do what?"The dismay of the soldier was apparent. This Easterling would surely kill his friend if given the chance, he thought.
Instead of responding, she grabbed the goat skin canteen off of him and cut the straw-like end off to act as a stopper and passageway for air. Placing a hand on the fallen soldier's forehead, she said softly, "You will need to be still." He immediately calmed down despite his difficulty breathing. Using a small knife, she quickly did the deed, inserting the straw and commanding the fallen soldier to breathe. Air suddenly could fill his one lung with ease, and though labored he was no longer choking and in risk of dying from lack of air.
"Arman!" The man cried his friend's name, relieved.
"This will need to be changed regularly until he heals," she said to him, "Transport him carefully."
The man was at a loss for words, "How?"
"I have seen similar wounds," she replied indifferent before leaving to assist others.
Entering the gates of the fortress of Helm's Deep, Vezely felt uncomfortable and caged in. If a battle did find them, it would be the first time she would have to fight from inside closed walls.
Gimli felt it was his duty to inform the Lady Eowyn of Aragorn's death while Legolas, stricken with grief, left the present company. The wounded were transported to willing hands - the infirmary having been fully stocked and prepared for the arrival of the injured, thanks to Eowyn. Vezely desired to survey the surroundings, though she also wondered where Legolas was, for she felt oddly concerned about his condition after losing Aragorn.
Before leaving the medical ward, she was approached by an elderly woman. "Miss? Are you wounded?" Vezely was covered in blood, both orc and human, the latter from assisting the wounded on the battlefield.
"I am not harmed," she replied with some politeness, hoping to quickly bypass the woman and be on her way.
"Come," the old woman abrasively took Vezely by the arm, "We can at least allow you to wash up and rest," she then not to gently led her up the steps to a small empty room with rinse basins and a few cots.
"If I had to guess, you are from the East," the woman stated with cheerful repose, guiding her to a cot to sit down.
"You would be correct," Vezely replied uninterested in chit chat, though she wondered how the woman could maintain such a demeanor considering the situation. She removed her sword and sai, and placed them on the ground beneath the cot, along with her rucksack, which she took from Gizik before she was taken to the stables.
The old woman fetched a water jug and filled two shallow basins that sat on the low table next to the cot. Dipping a fresh linen cloth into it and wringing it out, she proceeded to wash Vezely's face of the dirt and blood, desiring to double check that they were not her wounds.
"Your skin is very pale my child," she mused while dipping the linen in the water, "I have not seen such pale skin nor expected it on an Easterling, who I thought were of darker complexions."
Vezely smiled slightly rather than saying anything, notably uncomfortable being taken care of and not having the proper social etiquette to respectfully get out of it. The old her would not have let this woman touch her. Yet when the woman's hand went to remove Vezely's head covering, her fast reflexes grabbed the woman's wrist a little too tightly.
Loosening her grip carefully, she said with a slight smile, "Gratitude, but I can take it from here."
The old woman maintained her polite concern, "Alright my dear, you should be left alone for these quarters are currently unoccupied." She then exited the door, much to the relief of Vezely.
Rolling up the sleeves of her jacket and untying the fabric wrappings around her wrists, Vezely proceeded to wash her hands of the dried blood and dirt. The cool water felt refreshing against her skin and she closed her eyes while massaging her wrists under the water. Her wrists bore scars, wounds that never fully healed and ached from time to time.
"I heard you saved one of the king's guard today," the familiar voice slightly startled her, and she did not know how long he had been in the room. Elves were exceedingly quiet, unlike men, and despite her keen hearing she had not grown accustomed to his sounds, or lack there of.
"And almost killed another," she retorted dryly, referring to the scout incident and trying to tone down any impressiveness associated with lending aid. She quickly grabbed a linen cloth to dry her hands, for she desired to unroll her sleeves and cover her scars from view.
But Legolas had already seen them. Reaching where she sat, he gently took her wrists and held them up in the palm of his hands. His thumbs softly grazed over the scars as he inspected them, afterwards finding Vezely's confused eyes searching his own for answers to his disbelief.
"How did you come by these?" He asked noticeably concerned, for scars to remain on an elf was uncommon,if not unheard of.
She removed her eyes from his while also removing her wrists from his grasp, gripping her right wrist in her left hand, still aware of the feeling his prior touch gave. It took her a moment before she could speak, "You know of my imprisonment in Dol Guldur?" she asked calmly, waiting for his response, but it appeared he was unaware. Legolas then sat down next to her on the cot, placing his hands on his knees awaiting her explanation.
"The centuries following my return from Northern Mirkwood, I continued my charge as Sauron's vassal, aiding in building his army and maintaining order across the provinces held under his dominion. I thought perhaps I overstepped in my leadership, or Sauron grew tired of his experiment, or maybe he found my second in command more easily controlled," her voice betrayed a lingering anger for the man, "I am not certain. But my army revolted against me and I was taken to Dol Guldur. These scars remain." She held up her wrists.
"How long were you in captivity?" He asked carefully, for her scars appeared substantial.
"Half a life of man," she stated quietly and Legolas closed his eyes in distress, unable to fathom such a length of imprisonment, even for Elves who had seen many ages pass. But Vezely could not bear to let him garner such emotions on her account. She clasped her hand on his wrist, her unexpected touch causing him to turn his eyes to hers.
"I did not despair…and Aragorn did not fall in vain. When the battle finds us, it will be met with a better cause for blood," she declared resolutely, showing she was not one to hold to sorrow.
He found some comfort in her determination and soaked it in mentally while looking into her eyes, finding there strength.
Gimli approached the entrance to witness their closeness, though he did not have the heart to comment in his usual candor. Instead, he quietly made his way to a cot nearby, placing his axe and helmet aside.
During this time, Vezely slowly let go of his wrist, realizing her touch lingered slightly.
Legolas and Gimli greeted each other with a small nod, silently communicating their shared grief, and they would spend the next few hours in weary contemplation. Sitting cross legged on the ground in Easterling fashion, Vezely cleaned her sword of orc blood and honed its blade; the task did much to ease her mind of their current predicament.
When commotion from outside and the call of, "Open the gates!" hit their ears, it was Legolas who first rose and exited, sensing something the other two could only hope for. Vezely turned her gaze to Gimli, and found he had the same curious wonder on his face as her.
Then they heard someone shout, "Lord Aragorn returns!" and Gimli's eyes went wide, "It can't be, it can't be!" he shouted his hopeful disbelief before following in Legolas's path. Such a turn of events was greatly welcomed at such a time of diminished hope.
After Legolas and Gimli greeted Aragorn, Vezely also provided the man a respectful bow of the head, "I did not think you would be killed so easily," she remarked with a sly smile, which Aragorn returned with a faint laugh.
"Come," Aragorn then urged his friends to follow him, "There is important business to discuss with the king."