The Sun Sets in the West

by Modern Artifact

Of Rhun, the West knows little. Except there, Sauron rebuilt his power and waited. This pieces together the story of Rhun during the end of the Third Age into the Fourth via the Westward journey of an Easterling-Elf who served the Dark Lord. It is a story of cultural difference, of uncertain redemption, but ultimately of love. (Easterlings, Variags, Rhun).

10. Dressed Up with Doubts

Chapter 10 - Dressed Up with Doubts

After removing all of her rings, Vezely washed her sullied face and scrubbed her hands with lavender scented soap in a wash basin, taking extra time to remove the dirt that had accumulated under her fingernails. After removing her boots and slipping out of her garments, she took slow steps towards the tub, her skin feeling the cool air, her bare feet feeling the chill of the stone floor beneath, each ready to meet the warmth of the water prepared for her. She closed her eyes as her body became submersed in the hot, soothing liquid; sitting down, it rose up to her shoulders. A single tear fell from her eye; when she felt it on her cheek, she quickly wiped it away feeling such emotion was childish. It is only a warm bath, she thought unforgivably, you should not have missed it.

Of course, she was lying to herself. It was not just the bath that was making her emotional. It was everything else. Crossing the borders of Rhovanion was a trying appointment and not her decision, but the Blue Wizards', and it was a task they tried to prepare her for beforehand – though they were unsuccessful in recovering her childhood memories, they encouraged her to learn Elvish and constantly reminded her, much to her discontent, that she had kin in the West. Kin, who were these kin? She constantly wondered, and why would this Lord Elrond convince the White Council to aid in her release or find her worthy of embrace?

She did not easily come to terms with her Elvish decent, having no memories of her blood parents to guide her back or other known connections to move her. Nor did she feel that she belonged in Rhun, where she no longer held any position of power or people to call her own. This self-imposed displacement came with the recognition that while captivity changed her, it did not necessary reinvent her. She may have been Sauron's vassal, his desire to corrupt a member of the First Born as his master Melkor did before him, but she also willingly participated in his plans. She seemed more angered by her captivity than by her role leading campaigns forcing Rhun's allegiance to the Dark Lord. As a member of the resistance, she assumed the part of mercenary for the love of battle and for the sake of revenge, not claiming any greater purpose than being a willing sword. "I will fight for you," she told the Blue Wizards upon her return from reordering her thoughts in the deserts of Rhun, "But do not think it is because of the kindness of my blood or that I think you have a chance of winning." To live and die by the sword, taking on a warriors trade and setting out on the tasks of intercepting transmissions and hijacking army supply routes, made the past years straightforward and relieved her from confronting any internal discrepancies.

As her mind wandered through her past - years of war mongering, the darkness of captivity, and a few years fighting for the other side - she realized that coming closer to her homeland stirred exactly what she hoped to avoid, a desire to belong. Then there was Legolas, for he had furthered her acknowledgement of her connection to her kin beyond what the Blue Wizards could have hoped for. She knew she had let her guard down around him, conversing with him on topics she could not freely discuss with others. But spending the evening close to his side left her uncertain of her emotions or his. She feared he pitied her, an emotion she could not accept. For she easily accepted others hatred, fear, and disgust, but empathy, she detested. It made her feel weak; he made her feel weak and the West made her feel weak. Currently she could not escape her past, and she could not escape her kin. Yet she knew not how to reconcile either, or, as the Blue Wizard's desired, to seek some form of redemption.

A small knock on the door broke her from her thoughts, "Yes," she called, assuming correctly it was Gleda to take her garments to launder. Before leaving, the older woman cheerfully asked if she needed anything else and Vezely shook her head.

She would spend enough time in the tub that the water grew cool, though even then she did not want to remove herself. After she toweled off, she hesitantly put on the dress Eowyn gave her. It was a simple dress, but not one worn by a commoner – the first layer was made of cream linen, fitted at the arms with long sleeves that flowed into flared cuffs that hung down slightly over her wrists; on top was a burgundy velvet gown with a v-cut neckline. Dresses were not something she would choose to wear; impractical for riding, fighting, and in her belief, living. Even with no imminent fight ahead, she had to resist the urge to cut the length or put slits in the skirt for the sake of allowing her legs more movement.

Entering the bed chambers, she went to view her reflection in a large mirror on the wall. She had not taken in her full image in awhile, never being particularly concerned with presenting a pleasant appearance. She felt the fairness gifted to her by her race often undermined her credibility. Stepping closer to the glass, she looked at herself sternly, for in it she saw a person she did not recognize. Her body had not been this clean in ages. Her skin was pale and flawless, and with no black coal lining her eyes, she looked younger. The cinched waist and skirt gave her a womanly figure, the v-cut elongated her neckline, and the fabric's drape and flow provided her the appearance of grace. Her eyes narrowed, and then she murmured to herself, "I would not be taken seriously like this."

A hard knock at the door turned her attention, but before she could answer it, Eomer had barged in looking for his sister but finding Vezely instead - though a very different version of her. He was taken back by her gentler appearance, for not covered in dirt or clad in battle gear, she looked approachable. But not yet satisfied to reconcile her past and present facade, he queried sternly, "Where is my sister?"

"I do not know," Vezely stated honestly before standing aside, allowing him free entrance for he would do as she expected - not believing her words he would search the few rooms to make sure she wasn't there or, considering what he knew about Vez, harmed.

He returned to the doorway, and gave Vez a brief but strict glance before departing. Though at that time, Eowyn had come back with Gleda.

"Eomer?" Eowyn was surprised to see her brother in the hallway.

"I was looking for you…" Eomer conversed with Eowyn in the hallway while Vez waited, slightly amused at the man's previous discomfort.

Gleda had brought Vezely's boots, though sans her garments, which would hopefully be dried by the winds before the gathering.

"I am sorry about my brother. He is not always the politest of beings," Eowyn greeted Vez apologetically after Eomer left.

"Not to worry," Vezely replied unconcerned, hoping not to linger on the subject or make Eowyn feel she should worry, "Thank you again for such comforts. I do not remember the last time I had a proper bath."

"I am glad I could provide them," Eowyn smiled warmly, thinking that the dress's color complimented her, "I was going to go to have something to eat, your company would be most welcome..."

...Vezely followed Eowyn into the great hall, which was yet empty except for her companions who were also enjoying a small meal. She was not overly keen at engaging with them in such a garment but could not avoid it now.

All of them had washed and removed their battle armor, and were now lounging in chairs around a great table sparsely adorned with plates of food and enjoying a conversation. With their backs to her, she saw Gimli and Aragorn were smoking their pipes, Legolas stood nearby in his usual sentient manner, while Gandalf was enjoying something to drink. Eowyn was acknowledged first and she greeted them, though Vezely went unnoticed until Gimli choked on his smoke, causing her eyes to narrow on him. Legolas's eyes went wide, while Aragorn smiled and Gandalf smirked out of amusement. The hobbits, who were on the other end of the table, looked equally amused, though not knowing Vezely well enough their amusement came more from their companion's reactions.

Realizing the dress was causing the fuss she expected it would, she intervened. "Before you say anything regarding my attire," Vezely chastised bluntly, peering malevolently at each of them, "Know I have killed men for far lesser offenses."

Gimli could not help but start cracking up, which Gandalf added to with a boisterous laugh. Aragorn chuckled while a wide smile formed on Legolas's face. Eowyn and the hobbits looked somewhat bemused by all this.

Her stern-face loosened considerably after she sat down, though she kept her arms crossed to appear stern. She was seated across from where Legolas stood; he could not help but observe how different she looked without her eyes lined in black, without dirt in her hair, and how her youth radiated through her clean skin.

"A dress is, as Vez might know, a powerful weapon, not to be taken lightly," Gandalf added after the laughter died down, giving Vezely a knowing eye.

Vezely suspected what he might be referring, though slightly surprised that he brought it up.

"I heard from correspondences that you hijacked a Corsair sailing ship and diverted their fleet single handed and without blood," he told them, having been alerted on her accomplishments from the Blue Wizards - a letter written and sent West to the White Council for proof of her recovery and worth of her release.

"We needed money for weapons, I helped obtained it," Vezely replied nonchalantly; though it was a decisive mission that proved her allegiance, for the resistance did not easily take to her joining their side.

"Indeed," Gandalf replied amused, tapping his nose.

"Now there is a story worth hearing and a dress worth knowing about!" Gimli added intrigued.

Vezely's eyes narrowed on the dwarf, "The Corsairs are well-known for having a weakness in the fairer sex. They would not have allowed me to board dressed in battle gear."

"And just by wearing a dress?" Eowyn interrupted also curious.

"Well, it was not a dress such as this," Vez replied loosening her stern look; not expecting to have to relay such a story. "I posed as an Umbarian dancing girl. Their services are very expensive, but captains pay it."

"An Umbarian dancing girl?" Gimli shook his head disbelievingly.

"Oh, so you must be good at dancing?" Pippin queried, trying to follow along.

Vezely smiled slightly at this innocence, which Merry, the wiser of the two, added sarcastically, "I don't think it's that sort of dancing Pip."

Before allowing any to assume embarrassment on her part of playing such a role, "Umbarian dancing girls are expensive courtesans. Corsairs are predictable, getting their wine and women from the same place in each port. So, I tainted their liquor supply before they brought it aboard and made sure I was the captain's choice girl. The morning after they had not known what hit them, but their ships had been diverted to our docks and their hauls had been cleared."

"Pirate Vezely," Aragorn tipped his pipe to her.

Vezely smirked before adding, "But Gandalf, it was not necessarily bloodless, I did break the captain's nose before knocking him unconscious."

"Oh dear," Gandalf murmured and followed it with a good laugh.

Legolas was a bit surprised by her actions, even though impressive to have carried out such a feat, an Elf would have never done so in such a debauched manner. Of course, she was not like most Elves.

"My uncle Dwalin traded with the Corsairs of Umbar on occasion," Gimli added, proudly relaying information about his family, "All outlaws and brigands he would say."

Vezely had taken an apple and knife from the table and began eating it by slicing bits off. Somehow having a knife in her hand made her feel more relaxed in the garments she was wearing. "Those titles are well deserved. Your uncle must have been the wiser for they would sooner slit your throat than bargain a fair deal. And unfortunately their trade grows under Sauron's graces. Their eyes have been set on the Western coastline for some time now."

"Does each faction have such ambitions?" Eowyn, often left out of talks on the enemy, asked curious. At this time Theodon, Eomer, and Gamling entered the great hall.

Their presence did not deter Vezely from answering, "Surprisingly this war has united the East under a common banner and purpose, to reclaim the lands West once Shadow covers them. Where before, groups lived somewhat steady existences through free trade and accepted territories, now there is a scramble to prove higher allegiance to Sauron in return for more land and power. My suspicions are that regardless of which side wins, disputes are inevitable," considering again how she would have to return East to help with the clean up if the West indeed pulled through.

"For Evil Men, suspicions are unnecessary," Eomer joined the conversation.

"Evil?" Vezely queried with a smirk, slightly amused at the thought, "The very term is used in the East to describe those who claim themselves Free."

"Evil or not, they are our enemies," Theodon added fairly.

"And Vez will provide you all the necessary information on these enemies," Gandalf stated, intervening for he knew her brazenness was often too much for her own good.

Vezely nodded in deference to Gandalf, for this task was part of her charge of relocation and she needed to show more respect, though garnering it was not easy for her.

Theodon showed interest, "Good, tomorrow then, we will have council."

Before slicing another piece of apple with her knife, she provided an agreeable nod to the king, and briefly shifted her eyes at Eomer who remained overtly suspicious of her. She then looked at Legolas, gauging his thoughtful expression, reminding herself again that their conversations were always more personal and less confrontational than those she engaged in with others. She felt less guarded speaking to him, yet around others she cautiously maintained a demeanor that appeared unaffected by the world around her. It was a strange dichotomy. She smiled softly at him, realizing these thoughts stalled her in doing so; a moment that didn't go unnoticed by Legolas.

The conversation inevitably broke up into smaller groupings. Eowyn and Vez further discussed these factions in the East. To others, the two would appear unlikely to be amicable, but much they shared in feminine courage. Vez continued to sense that Eowyn had a decisive role to play in this war, though she did not always trust such instincts.

Afterwards she would go to check if her garments were prepared and unfortunately, they were not. Instead, she replaced all her rings and rewrapped her wrists. She also draped her black headscarf loosely around her neck, for it had been the only piece ready. She felt comforted by its familiarity and darker color, which she felt better suited her. She noted how suddenly it held the scent of the West, having been dried by its breeze.

Instead of regrouping with her companions, she wandered to the outer stretches of the city where the rocks cut down sharply to an abyss below. A wall had been made centuries past to keep wanderers from passing and accidentally falling to their deaths. She held no such worry, and quickly jumped the cobbled stone trappings to stand upon the rock face.

She sat down, dangling her legs over, and she continued to breathe the air a few more moments until it grew more frigid with the setting sun. "Vezely," her name held meaning to the Balchoth. In Westron it meant "the setting sun." The sun sets in the West, and it was where she came from, so her Balchoth parents found it appropriate; for she would be their sun leading their people to what they felt was their rightful claim to the lands West of Rhovanion. Misguided, yes, but truth is a value judgment made real by circumstance. Nwalmaer, she suddenly thought of the nickname her kin branded her with. "You tormented others and now you are tormented," she scoffed to herself, "Perhaps this is justice."

Upon her return to the cabin, Gimli was the only one who remained, having over napped while the rest had gone to the Golden Hall. "There you are lass, we should head over, or were you thinking of skipping out of this?" he asked taking her by the arm, "And you're frozen!"

"I was facing the Western winds," she replied stalling a little, though she hadn't noticed the cold he was referring to, "Are others already over there?"

"Aye, thought you'd might be with Lady Eowyn already," he replied.

"I suppose I got lost in my thoughts," she said apologetically.

"Fair enough. I'm going to get lost in the ale barrels. Time to drink the house dry," he clapped his hands merrily.

She followed him appearing amused but feeling her acceptance at such an event uncanny. The hall was packed with the men and women of Edoras, gathered in their best attire to pay their respects to those who died in battle. She stood on the sidelines, keeping behind ordinary townsfolk, desiring her presence to go unnoticed; perhaps the dress assisted slightly in this.

Having been handed a cup from Eowyn, Theodon addressed the crowd, "Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country. Hail the victorious dead!"

"Hail!" The crowd responded, taking a swig of their ale and taking a brief moment of silence.

With the festivities underway, Gimli made his way to the barrels of ale, while Vezely walked through the hall to a line of banners strung from the ceiling, each representing the great kings of Rohan. She stopped on the first one for Eorl the Young, the man she killed at the Battle of the Wold. On the far wall beyond was an elaborate tapestry, weaved with an image of a horse stamping out the sun, symbolically representing the destruction of the Easterlings at the hands of Rohan. Such a sight did not lift her spirits or quell her apprehension of being there.

"A defining figure," the voice came from beside her, "For you and for Rohan."

It was King Theodon, who Vezely courteously nodded in reverence to. "History makes it so, but at the time, such importance was unknown."

"I often wondered what sort of man he really was outside of legend. When you met him on the field, do you recall his demeanor?" he asked curiously, while admiring his banner.

She considered this question strange, but proceeded cautiously, "His eyes burned with the determination for his people. He said he would not let me take this land or harm its people anymore. He cared not for himself."

"He was a true king then," Theodon replied proudly, though the evening had led him to continue questioning his prior resolve at Helm's Deep, and how he almost failed his people. He would have given up, if not for Aragorn.

Vezely resisted the urge to say Eorl the Young died like any other man, for it is as such when sword meets flesh. She then turned towards Theodon and could sense that doubts of his leadership consumed him and she suddenly felt ill for her bitter thoughts. She reminded herself that she must let the West have their kings, for it is their way and where their hope resides. "You are not unlike him," she replied encouragingly, causing him to look at her with serious eyes. "Your men respect you, as his did. I remember, when I struck him down, they rose up even stronger and defeated us. That respect does not come from title alone."

Theodon thought through the woman's words, accepting them as a courteous remark that kinghood does not simply have to be about inheritance. Feeling gracious for the positive stance taken in this conversation, Theodon added, looking her straight in the eye, "Tonight I allow you to feast in this hall as a friend of Rohan, your past need not haunt you."

The validation made Vezely feel humbled and her hesitation of being there lightened, "Gratitude, for your continued kindness." She was reminded of how her expectations of the West were not matching up to its reality.

As Theodon left, she made her way through the crowd thinking perhaps she should attempt to locate her companions. She knew she had avoided them all afternoon and suddenly thought ill for it.

Legolas had regrouped with Gimli just prior, and was goaded into a drinking challenge administered by Eomer who had control of the barrel brew. He had spent the afternoon with his companions in the cabin, as they swapped stories with the two hobbits of their prior adventures. He noted Vezely's absence, making him query the evening prior. He did not know if he made her feel uncomfortable by pulling her next to him, or even why he decided to do so. He admitted he continued to be intrigued by her differences from other Elves and this held part of his interest. For despite all his time and accumulated knowledge, he still could not quite figure her out. But he began to wonder if the task of figuring her out was simply a useful diversion for his mind; that it was to alleviate the stress of the current situation and nothing more.

That afternoon he reflected on when he laid eyes upon her during her healing sleep in Mirkwood. He had accompanied his father to speak to Rayne, the young healer who offered to watch after the woman as she healed - the one she unfortunately almost made her victim. She looked incredibly peaceful as she laid there; her pale skin illuminated by the light, her hair dark as soil and cut bluntly shoulder length and with a heavy fringe balancing her face. Her freckles, a rarity among Elves, added to her uniqueness. "She is young," he remarked surprised to his father, noting her youth as an Elf of just a century old, appearing as only a teenager to man. "But as a child raised by men she has lived a full life," his father replied to him, knowing more about this woman than he. His eyes lingered and his father noted it, but said nothing. His father would not mention it until after her departure, saying there would be a time to resolve the reason their paths had crossed and the feelings that might linger. He rebuked his father for even suggesting such feelings existed, especially since she had left an ill impression in his mind when she awoke with eyes of malice and deceit.

If only he could question his father on his words once more, he thought, for he knew not the role he should play now that their paths had crossed again. Was it right for him to tell her Elvish history, to provide her knowledge of her roots, and thus encourage her to accept them? Perhaps he had too easily trusted her, forgetting the reality of her past for he could only sense the uncertainty of her present. He certainly was not falling in love with her, he told himself, having maintained his stance as a detached warrior despite his father's encouragement to seek companionship earlier in life. He had given up hope of finding a woman who he cared more for on all levels; quickly admitting to the incompatibility of his prior short relationships unlike others of his generation who let false love linger. Elves were monogamous creatures, destined to find their life partners amongst them. Many have to wait centuries to discover "the one" and some prefer to negate the search for quicker comfort of one not so perfect. Yet he wanted no such relationship, knowing they would lack substance and complexity. He would wait, even if it meant several more centuries of loneliness and an empty bed. Yet the waiting had led to quelling his desire of companionship altogether. The absurdity of having these feelings for someone as estranged as her seemed farthest from possible. His attraction must simply be one of diversion and empathy, nothing more, he thought. And yet he felt it was wrong to pity her, for she did not desire it nor in reality deserved it. This realization now made him even more uncertain of how to interact with her.

Making her way through the crowd, Vezely ran into Eowyn, who looked cheered by the merriment before her. "It is good to see you again," Eowyn greeted her, "But you do not have a drink in your hand? I will send you to the barrels. I would accompany you, but my duty is elsewhere," she motioned Vez in the direction of the liquor. Eowyn had the task of visiting with the people; a duty of noble blood at such a gathering.

She made her way through the crowd in the direction she was put in, spotting a table piled high with empty mugs, an Elf standing nearby, a Dwarf passed out on the ground below, and Eomer filling a mug with ale from one of the many barrels brought in for the event. As she moved closer, she caught the glazed over eyes of Legolas who looked upon her as if she was in slow motion.

He felt as if suddenly he was less aware of his surroundings, for the tingling in his fingers had continued and he felt overly relaxed. Elves often developed a high tolerance to alcohol though their long lives, and were hardly affected by over-drinking. Though Gimli had pushed him quite farther than he had drunk in sometime and he noted the physical feelings he hadn't had since his youth. Vezely was still in the dress she wore that afternoon, and as she moved he noted how the fabric swayed gracefully about her. She looked less exotic to him, and more familiar.

"These were once full?" she asked amused after reaching his side, referring to the empty mugs piled on the table.

He smiled slightly while looking at Gimli knocked out on the floor.

"Competition," Vezely added knowingly, "And you won." She shook her head and laughed, "Well, Gimli did say he would drink the hall dry, it was not in jest."

Eomer had filled a mug of ale and handed it to Vezely, "It is not dry yet," he provided her a friendly face.

Slightly surprised by the gesture, Vezely returned a kind demeanor while accepting the mug from him, nodding her head in gratitude.

"It is said," Eomer continued, his words now addressing the crowd nearby, "That Vezely of the Balchoth breathes fire and scorches all men who lay eyes upon her. Such tales scare children in their sleep. Funny how history twists reality." Eomer had made the men around him laugh, and Vezely noted slight contempt in his words.

But such stories made her amused, she smirked and gained a shrewd look on her face, "It is truth but only a trick," she confirmed, causing the laughing to stop and eyes to look upon her. "One only needs liquor, a torch, and the ability to spit." She then smiled before taking a drink of her ale.

A moment of silence was followed by Eomer laughing, "Well enough. Another round!" He began pouring for the men nearby who cheered him on. Luckily the night was not one well suited to breed contempt.

Legolas, who stood close beside her, asked in her ear quietly, "This is only jest?"

She hesitated, wondering if she should be ashamed, "…No, it is not."

He smirked, lightening his tone but saying sarcastically, "Well, you certainly make an impression."

She assumed he was not necessarily passing judgment, despite it being foul to light men on fire. After a moment, she added, hoping to not linger on it and to set the reason for her avoidance of them that day, "Speaking of impressions, I apologize for my absence this afternoon. I thought it kind to allow trusted companions their space."

"Your presence is not one that deters from such a space," he replied politely, doubtful whether this was the real reason she was absent.

She smiled at his words, noting his replies often displayed impeccable manners. Hoping to discuss her thoughts she added, "I actually reflected on the first time we met in Mirkwood."

He looked at her surprised, having also reflected on those events earlier.

Before she could continue, however, a ruckus started behind them; the two hobbits Merry and Pippin busted out in song, mugs in hand and dancing on top of a table. It was impossible to ignore for either of them and they smiled at each other knowing they would continue this conversation another time. Yet even when the song had ended and they could talk again, from their side two men approach them, "Excuse me," the man started hesitantly, he was wearing bandages and looked to still be healing.

Vezely recognized him as the wounded guard she helped after the warg battle; the man beside him was his friend who faithfully remained by his side. "I want to thank you, for saving my life," he attempted to speak with conviction, for it probably took him a lot of courage to approach her.

"Arman, correct?" Vezely remembered his friend calling out his name. The man nodded. "You fought for your life," she returned humbly, "I only assisted."

His hand went out to her and she took it, offering an equally strong forearm shake. The man at his side also nodded politely to her before they left.

She did not turn to Legolas, for if she did she would see his thoughtful demeanor, for he believed the moment may have had some resonance for her. Instead, she took her drink from the table, staring into the liquid before taking a drink. She felt oddly proud for saving a man's life rather than taking one. For a Balchoth, this was an uncommon occurrence.

"You are yet a good person," Legolas prompted himself to say to her, for he believed she would have continued to avoid talking, "Even if you rather not be called so."

Her eyes turned to his; he was too perceptive. "I have been called many things. I suppose I should not get offended when they are positive."

Before they could continue their conversation, Eomer called out to those nearby, "Could I interest anyone in a game of chance?"

"A dice game?" Vezely quickly responded curious, having always been one for gambling.

"A betting game," he replied.

"And what are the stakes?" She did not know if she had anything worth gambling.

"Whatever you have," Eomer said, "Stakes can be high or low."

She looked briefly at Legolas, who seemed amused that she showed any interest in the sport. Turning back to Eomer she stated assuredly, "As long as it does not involve body parts, I'm in," which caused odd stares from those around her. She then realized perhaps they did not dabble in those types of high stakes this side of Rhovanion. She put her ale mug down, and then climbed over the bench and propped her elbows on the table, cracking her knuckles in preparation for the game.