Chapter 7 - The Forest River
Vezely made her way to the upper ramparts of the fortress where the best view of the valley was laid out before her. The sun had dried the wet landscape, now indented with horse's hooves and littered with scraps of armor and discarded equipment from the battle. It was a view she was well accustomed to and while most would be reflecting on life, having survived against such staggering odds, her mind thought of its irrelevance. She knew the scale of the armies amassed in the East, and how the defeat of Sarumon's forces was simply a small chip struck from an immense quarry.
Following the young Elf's path through the fortress's grounds, Legolas again queried his intentions. He could only piece together Vezely's history, from knowledge of the White Council's decision to aid in her release from captivity in Dol Guldur, though he knew not why that decision was made. The Blue Wizard's assisted in her recovery, but whether she was a willing participant of that aid remained unsaid. Even her role in the Eastern resistance and her relocation out West, along with the trust Gandalf placed in having her fight for Theodon, did not conclude the true nature of her charge. He quietly joined her side, his presence seeming to go unacknowledged as she was surveying the lands around them. Perhaps Gimli was right, he thought, he did desire to unravel her.
Keeping her eyes on the landscape, Vezely queried her thoughts. She was grateful the fair Elf had followed her, for she desired to converse with him again, though she also felt apprehensive about providing more information on herself. Her detachment from the world began long before her imprisonment and had not subsided after. Though coming West had considerably upset these self-imposed boundaries, confronting her not only with tangible remnants of her past misdeeds, but with someone who encountered her before she changed sides. Living in the world of men, such confrontations could not take place for she was held captive well past their life age. She never had to confront the longevity of her own kin or deal with those she had personally wronged.
He allowed the silence to continue, and looked North towards his homeland, thinking again about the past. His father had foreseen this turn of events, telling him after Vezely departed his village that there was a reason their path had crossed without resolve. What reason they had met again eluded him.
"Your thoughts go to your homeland?" Vezely suddenly asked, breaking him from these thoughts.
"Yes, war has found its way there," he replied, though this was not why his eyes lingered there.
"And you are here?" she rejoined curious as to why he remained in Rohan.
"My father sent me to Imladris as a messenger for our people," he stated, his eyes firm on the landscape, "And I volunteered to represent them in what you now see remains of the fellowship. I stay to fight for my friends, and for the future of Middle Earth." Making this declaration seemed to remind him why he could not be home defending his people.
"But I heard the Elves are leaving Middle Earth," Vezely was unsure of this rumor, for the East swam of them and despite desiring to appear uninterested in those concerning Elves, she always took note.
"It is true, our time here is ending," he began to explain. "They travel to the Undying Lands beyond the sea of Belegaer, where the leaves never fall and the daytime sky never grows dark from unpleasant weather. It cannot be reached by the ships of men," he then looked at her, for she had turned her eyes on him. They were filled with the same curiousness and wonder as the last time he spoke about the Elves, "There they will spend the rest of the world's days in blissful existence."
Replying with a hint of skepticism, "And you stay?"
"I was born here, it is my home," he remarked proudly.
Vezely could not help but covet such resolve, and a part of her wished she could have the same feelings, but "home" was complicated.
"And I have not yet heard the call," he added a moment later.
"The call?" Vezely queried, her eyes showing confusion.
"Our time to leave these lands will be made known to us," he explained further, slightly surprised she had not known, "Until then, I have no desire to go from these shores."
Vezely considered all this information, wondering what place she had in this mass exodus. Would she ever be called, or would she be barred from entering such bliss and face endless wandering alone in Middle Earth or in death, be stuck in the Halls of Mandos where she could not pass to the lands of Valinor for her sins were too great. At least, the Blue Wizards warned her of such a fate. Whether she should care remained to be seen.
Sensing her inner queries, Legolas responded concerned, "Apologies, if I have caused you ill thoughts..."
She turned to him, and shook her head, realizing she had let her emotions seep through. Changing the subject back to him, "It is a noble quest, to stay, to fight for your friends, your homeland. It is to be envied to have such a charge."
He knew she was evading his concern; hoping she would share her thoughts so he could help ease her distress in some way, he asked carefully, "And why do you fight?"
She looked back out at the mountain tops, to the snow formed on the tops of the peaks, taking a moment to consider a question she still didn't readily know how to answer despite her years fighting for the resistance. Part of her did not want to answer while another part was compelled to. "I use to fight for my people," she spoke slowly, thinking through her words, "Then I fought for Sauron, as well as my own bloodlust. In the dungeons, my mind wandered from my body, and I found myself standing alone on a mountain top in snow that didn't melt beneath my bare feet. I couldn't fight. I couldn't do anything but painfully breathe the cold air and feel the burn of the ice below me. There was nothing…no home, no friends, only myself and the faces of those I had killed. I left Dol Guldur with nothing," she breathed deeply before beginning again, "The Blue Wizards said it took months to piece back together my mind. They then urged me to fight to redeem myself, to find purpose again."
She paused her words, unsure whether to continue, but Legolas prompted her to, "And have you found it?" he asked searching her face from the side.
Vezely continued steadily, "Revenge was the only purpose I could find. I am not honest, kindhearted, pure like you are, like Elves are supposed to be. I can never erase my past, start over, or seek forgiveness from those who I have wronged. I do not deserve a higher reason to fight."
Legolas sensed the truth she held in her words, but it hid self-hate and hopelessness. Perhaps, he thought, this was her means of punishing herself for her past deeds by refusing to accept redemption under truer banners. "There is a reason why you are called Nwalmaer (tormented one)," he stated carefully.
She looked at him with serious eyes, admittedly knowing not the thoughts surrounding the title's creation.
"You were taken by orcs as a child, to be used by Sauron only to be locked away and forgotten. This fate was not your doing, nor could you have changed the course of such events. I know not your recent history, but the White Council would not have released you from Dol Guldur if they had thought you were beyond redemption," he said encouragingly, though his words were met with skepticism. "You are a child of the stars," he added slowly, "You do not need to reconcile your character with what you perceive to be the character of Elves. You were not raised amongst us, but you are one of us."
Vezely turned her face away from him, fearful of the emotions his encouraging words were stirring inside her and whether they were discernible. While she has been told to accept her Elvish roots, to have one of her own race tell her this was new, for she had always assumed they would not accept her.
Realizing her inner turmoil, he gave her privacy by looking again past the desolate battle grounds of Helm's Deep to the North. He shared some brighter thoughts on his homeland, taking for granted the inherent connection Elves have with nature, "I wish I could show you the Forest River in my homeland, take you to a brook whose water runs like a lullaby amongst the folded trees. In autumn, the leaves fall like soft rain, blanketing the floor in a collage of warm colors…"
Vezely began to remember the song her Elvish mother sang, the Forest River's lullaby, the soft rain of autumn's leaves, all were lyrics. "As the birds hold their song to listen to the brook, they hear the wind calmly claim another leaf for the floor, autumn fades but the Forest River does not quiet its sweet voice…" She spoke the verses quietly in Elvish.
"You know of this song?" Legolas queried, surprised by her not only knowing the words, but speaking them fluently in his own tongue, adding, "It is a Wood-elf lullaby, one known and sung to children in Northern Mirkwood."
"It came to me in the dream, from a voice I believe to be my blood mother's. I knew not of its origin," she replied bewildered, her eyes still turned away to the landscape; she felt torn as she thought of how beautiful the place must be if it does in fact exist.
Legolas smiled warmly, for such a memory was a precious one to hold. Her mother was undoubtedly a Woodland Elf and she held Sindarin and Silvan lineage. He brought a hand softly to her cheek and guided her to face him, but she kept her eyes down, afraid to show him the tension this acknowledgement brought her. He waited a moment, eliciting her attention which she slowly gave him. "Those woods remain in you. You must accept it, or Sauron will have won."
She kept still for a moment longer, searching his eyes and breathing along with him, wondering why he gave her such kindness. She then smiled slightly, showing that these words touched her; a smile which he returned just as warmly. Speaking sincerely, "You have been an unexpected comfort, one I needed since passing the borders of Rhovanian to face this land I knew not how I belonged."
Unexpected, that word continued to come up amongst them. Legolas was comforted as well by the positive confirmation of his actions, for she could have just as easily rebuked him. He wondered again about what his father meant while looking at her, finding himself drawn into her gaze. He then replied to her truthfully, "It gives me peace to offer you comfort."
Her pleasant demeanor changed again to one of skepticism. Regretfully she removed her eyes from his. She placed both hands on the rampart in front of her, gripping it slightly to steady herself as if a means to better steady her thoughts and return her emotions inward. "I do not know what peace I could have given whilst burdening you with my dark thoughts in these already troubled times."
Hoping he didn't cause discomfort, he replied warmly, "Your presence does not burden, nor do your thoughts offer trouble."
Vezely looked again upon the fair Elf, who had also turned his eyes on the landscape. She wondered what lay behind his desire to console her, whether the odd feeling of affection was not only her own. Concerned she had spoken unkind, she blurted assuredly, "Good, then I will not worry about asking you to tell me more about our homeland, our kin." The use of the word our felt strange but pleasant coming off her tongue.
Legolas smiled at her cheerful response, her saying of our sounded like music to his ears. Turning to her again, "I will gladly tell it."
For the next few hours, Legolas would recount the story of the first Elves, the origins of the different factions throughout Middle Earth, and his own Woodland Realm, answering her astute questions as she had them, as she was connecting this information to similar tales she had heard in the East. Though he suspected it allowed her to evade discussing her past or for him to press her further on her present desires.
"…I am afraid what comes after will have to wait until next time," not having finished the history of the ruin of Doriath as it was time to regroup with the others, and to get ready to ride to Isengard. He hoped there would be a next time.
"And I will wait patiently," she replied sounding cheered, not only was she grateful for his storytelling but also to have another chance to hear him speak to her. His voice was the most beautiful one she had heard. She did not know if this was due to his Elvish qualities, but it was terribly soothing to listen to.
Returning to the inner fortress, they parted ways with Vezely going to retrieve her rucksack and Legolas to do the same before regrouping with the others.
Passing through the inner ramparts, Legolas reflected on their conversation. She remained a curiosity for him, but one with a unique complexity, an opposing hardness and softness of character he found intriguing. From their conversation, he could sense her desire to belong and he also longed for her to find her place in this world. Finding out she was born in the Woodland Realm was also a unique revelation and he lamented that the Woodland guard could not protect her parents or her from the encroachment of orcs, who constantly terrorized their people. His home woods had grown ever tenser since that time prompting many Woodelves to leave these shores and those who stayed were forced to relocate their homes in the caverns built by his father. He knew what the war would bring to his realm, though he held hope that he would return in a time of peace. Perhaps she could also return there, he thought, to find her roots, to possibly remember what she lost so long ago. It was strange to meet an Elf without knowledge of their origins, which for Elves was an incredibly relevant to living their everyday. There was much she didn't know, and for some reason he felt obligated to teach her.
Finding a washroom first, Vezely removed the rings on her fingers, one by one, feeling the odd sensation of them leaving the skin that knew them well. The one she did not remove held the most meaning to her - the Balchoth leader ring, given to her on her father's death bed as it is tradition to pass on to the chosen clan leader through the ages. It was carved with a crude image of the sun, a symbol to represent the golden armored horde and the sun-given power used to blind their enemy with fear. She had retrieved it only recently on her trek over to the West, from the Balchoth's burial site, where the last of her clan was buried. She had decided to relinquish it after their defeat out West, when the numbers of Balchoth dwindled and disappeared. Instead of feeling the weight of failing her people, she instead submitted her whole will and purpose to Sauron, standing for noting outside of his desire. This ring reminded her of when she stood for something more. Regardless of the ill causes that brought her to Balchoth hands, she remained grateful for her foster parent's acceptance as a child. They treated her as their own and she assumed the role as leader gracefully as a true Balchoth, haven proven her strength and allegiance to her people and a desire to uphold their culture. The ring represented her past before Sauron's purpose was made known to her; where she had a people to defend and fight for.
She could not remember her Elven parents, the full reasoning of such memory loss unknown. Yet today she discovered her connection to Northern Mirkwood, a place she once entered without acknowledgement of it. Legolas had offered her this knowledge kindly, providing her reasons to embrace her blood and not to be ashamed in doing so. Why he accepted her, and showed her such kindness, she did not know, though she tried not to question it or the feelings he was stirring inside her.
After drying her face, she finely lined her eyes with charcoal, replaced her rings, and loosely wrapped her black scarf over her head to prepare for riding. She left for the stables to tend to Gizik, passing Eomer on the way. He had the same displeased look on his face as when they first met each other. She nodded to him, a gesture he returned civilly, though she could sense he distrusted her.
Patting her nose, she spoke softly to her horse in Easterling, "Gizik, you are enjoying stable life, aren't you?" As she prepared her for riding, she spoke about the future journey, and about other unexpected occurrences, as if confiding in an old friend who could understand and commiserate.
Legolas came to retrieve the Rohirrim horse that he and Gimli would ride, finding Vezely speaking an unfamiliar tongue.
"You are close," he said pleasantly.
"She has taken me through many worthy adventures. I consider her a friend," Vezely smiled not only for these memories but also to see the fair Elf again.
Legolas patted the horse on the nose and spoke several words to her in Elvish, causing her ears to perk up and listen carefully. From what Vezely could translate, he thanked her horse for the companionship she offered, and asked her to keep her rider safe so that such worries did not cloud his thoughts.
Noticing her following his speech he asked curiously, "Have you tried speaking to her in Elvish?"
Vezely shook her head, "My pronunciation is not correct for I have only studied Elvish words recently from books. And I do not know if they were correct in their translations to begin with."
"We shall practice," he told her in Elvish.
"Practice?" Vezely repeated the Elvish word and after a short moment of thought, "I will try."
"But we should not speak so too often in front of the others," Legolas confided, and added with false seriousness, "For we do not want to bring about thoughts of an Elf conspiracy."
Amused by the thought, she asked, "And what could we conspire to?" still in Elvish, though slightly off rhythm.
"I am sure the Dwarf could answer that," he replied, noting his friend's penchant for seeing all Elves as problematic.
She could not help but laugh, for Gimli amused her just as much. They continued to chat as they walked their horses side by side from the stables to where a small band of riders was amassing to leave. Her Elvish was not perfect, though it was more a matter of grammar over vocabulary.
Aragorn and Gimli noted the two Elves' jovial manner and their looks of affection as they walked with their horses trailing behind them.
"They seem friendly," Aragorn noted quietly to Gimli.
"Surprising, seeming that one wanted to pierce an arrow into the other not too long ago," Gimli replied gruffly, but admittedly pleased by the changed experience of the two.
Along with Gandalf, Theodon, Eomer, and Gamling, the band departed Helms Deep and crossed through the surrounding valleys, at times following the same tracks left by the Uruk-khai army that marched that way just prior. The ride was not overly burdensome and the weather mild; all were grateful that the rain had not returned a second night.
It was not until they entered the winding paths of Fangorn that foul thoughts clouded their determination.