Chapter 13 - Complicated
The stars were high and Edoras had grown quiet. Vez stood alone on the veranda, facing East in contemplation. She was rolling the gold coin she had won in the gambling match across the back and through the inside of her fingers while contemplating the event that was on the temporal horizon; contemplating whether her suspicions would come true and she would meet her second in command on the battle field in front of the White City. Anger inevitably marked her demeanor, for his betrayal and deeds against her could not be swayed from her mind.
She had trusted Öldür, the Killer, as her second in command for various reasons: he was smart, able to strategize alongside her without fatigue, brutal, for he was of Variag descent, a clan with enough cultural similarities to the Balchoth that Vez felt as with kin, and he was mildly infatuated with her. While she never returned the interest in heart, she used it to her advantage for he often did not question her authority and if he did she could sway him otherwise. She knew she need not play with the hearts of men, for she had enough accrued power from her skill and authority as the hand of Sauron, but she would at times milk the advantages of her race-given fairness if she gauged the situation called for it. At times it even amused her. The "Evil Beauty;" men in taverns would speak of her as such when they had enough to drink.
For this to have backfired was ironic in many ways. For Öldür lusted for her, but lusted for her army and power more. She had underestimated him; growing hubristic in her control and overlooking any possibilities of her position being disposed of by him or by Sauron. She was alone with him before she was taken away to Dol Guldur, after she had been beaten to near unconsciousness by men who proclaimed allegiance. He confessed he had been feeding Sauron information of what he perceived as the weakness of her race - namely her growing desire to avoid spilling innocents' blood. He had his eye on her position for a long time. And so with her body broken, he stole what was left of her dignity, and finished by slicing her ear off, saying, "You will forever remain mine, for none may now look upon you as beautiful." In a way she had remained his, for it was a scar not easily covered, a deed never to be forgotten, and any desire to be looked upon as fair remained dissolved. While destroying Sauron was beyond her skill, snuffing out this man's existence was not. Such thoughts occupied her mind when night fell, and now more than ever.
Legolas would join her side as all the others had fallen asleep, desiring to exchange kinder words again after having mended their friendship that morning. Despite her not being a typical Elf, he did find her company refreshing; having not spent time around his kin since Lothlorien. She understood some of what the others could not, namely the sleepless nights and ageless time Elves endured. Yet it was her atypical nature that he found in many ways more refreshing.
Vezely had stopped her gesture with the coin and clinched it in her fist, turning her thoughts on the noble Elf who now stood beside her. She again was calmed by his presence and the anger that consumed her just prior dissipated. She didn't know what made his company so soothing. With her mind still on the pressing matters, she confessed steadily while scanning the Eastern expanses before them, "There is nothing worse than waiting to ride to war."
"Perhaps, but the company makes such a wait bearable," he replied pleasantly.
She smiled over at him, hoping his words were true, she then said warmly, "I am glad to have your company at night, for I am too often left to my own thoughts."
"Yet rest would also do us well in the coming days," he considered.
She nodded to agree, "It would," then saying in wonder and amusement, "It will be an incredible battle, and one I have been anticipating my whole life, though not from the position I now stand." She turned to him, "It is strange, to look upon ones world from outside it and to know you will meet it again on fields that use to mark the maps of your former trajectory."
"But you stand here with a new purpose and just cause, one already put to service. All are grateful for the information you provided to King Theodon today," he noted appreciatively.
"That was the desire of the Blue Wizards; that I might somehow carry on the resistance's mission. So the West would not underestimate the forces that are coming," she was glad of these tidings, but worried she provided unfounded information, "Though I hope I did not overstep by mentioning my suspicions on the Variags' presence."
"You should trust your intuitions," Legolas told her.
"I am not sure if they are intuitions or strategizing on the part of the enemy," she replied uncertain. "I have heard Elves are perceptive, but I was raised to be pragmatic. If I can't see it, it does not exist. Lives can be lost on intuition alone."
"Besides strategy, what makes you think these forces will come?" he asked, hoping to parse out her feelings on it.
She was uncertain if she wanted to share the details for they were more personal than she liked to admit. Yet, she had bridged into a new understanding with Legolas. She did not need to present herself differently, for he knew where she currently stood on matters and perhaps, he could help her come to terms with these instincts. She recounted, "These thoughts started forty years ago when rumors of the Variags' leader were passed via a communication from our spies in Khand. It was unknown to me at the time that Sauron was bestowing prolonged life to his privileged. I immediately began to wonder why Khand, why have this undead man lead the Variags? But our information was scarce and grew scarcer when the Variags demanded independence from the Easterling Confederation and were quickly allotted it. Their leader must have had enough clout, for other tribes requested and were denied. As I wondered who this leader was, my past continually came to me as an answer, for my second in command was of Variag decent. And the promise of meeting him again has not left me. Are these thoughts in vain?" she queried.
"No, but they are heavy," he replied still considering them, "And if they come into fruition?"
"I will kill him," she declared without emotion looking out in front of her.
"The undead are not easily destroyed," he replied carefully.
She knew this, but it didn't deter her determination in this task. "No, they are not. I do not expect someone of your ilk to understand, but I cannot accept his longevity," she would not explain her conviction.
Thoughts of a number of reasons stalled Legolas in responding, though he could not access this history exactly, he mentioned assuming, "You were close to him."
She shifted her position and crossed her arms, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the conversation. "In some ways. I foolishly trusted him and he betrayed me," her voice sounded detached, "He took more from me than my ear and my army that night."
He did not question her further, knowing now it was not a polite subject to do so, "I would not deter you from such a path, but hope you will not deny assistance if given."
She nodded, not wanting to linger on the subject she concluded, "These are only thoughts that keep my mind occupied, especially when darkness falls. Premonition or not, this battle will happen. I just have to be the best warrior I can," she confirmed looking at him, lightening her mood.
In solidarity he added, "It is both of our charges."
"Was it always so?" she asked wondering of his past.
"Not always, my father perhaps would have desired me to take a less precarious trade. But with our kingdom being a place in need of such skill, he did not deter me in my path," he recounted.
"And if you return in a time of peace and there is no need for such skill to be sharpened?" she queried, parsing through her own future while doing so.
"Rebuild and tend the woods that bore me. Peace need not be spent inactive, even for someone of my ilk," he retorted amused, noting he had heard her label him as such before.
She smiled slightly embarrassed for perhaps she did take a jab at his prince title, though without ill intent, "Apologies, I did not intend to mock, only acknowledge that our worlds of experience differ so."
"I take no offense, for what you say of our differences is true. Although I am not without ability to be understanding of such experiences if shared," he confided warmly.
"You have already proven this to me. But my past is full of unbecoming experiences and some even I am ashamed of," she paused, not sure if she should say so, "Perhaps, I care how you perceive me."
He liked the thought of this acknowledgement, "You need not step softly, for your past cannot sway me from my current perception," he told her, catching her eyes in his for an elongated moment. It was odd for him to realize he was again drawn to her gaze, and he grew somewhat embarrassed that he had done so. He had told himself not to allow such feelings to overtake him, for where they could lead was uncertain. "Though we need not linger on it this night in hopes of lighter conversation," he tried to break the silence and his gaze from hers, "For I wonder, if peace should find its way into your life, where would you locate yourself?"
Vezely had not considered her future plans in peaceful times, "This is not a comfortable question for someone raised as I. For the Balchoth live and die by the sword. So I cannot imagine myself as anything other than a warrior; even if it was to be so had Sauron not interfered."
"Nor can I," he agreed, though an alternate reality intrigued his thoughts. "You have a general's spirit, as witnessed this morning."
She smiled appreciatively, "I do not deny that I miss such tasks, even if my armies were marching for Sauron."
"You did not a hold a leadership role in the resistance?" he asked slightly surprised.
She laughed at the thought, "No, I held no rank. I had to follow orders, or at least that was the intent of the Blue Wizards. Though I often worked alone, taking on small information gathering missions, interceptions, and the like. I did my job, didn't question authority, well, most of the time," she smirked, "Besides, I was somewhat responsible for the deaths of many of the member's ancestors. For them to follow me, it would not have boded well." She looked at him wondering, "You did not expect this?"
"You mean, you following orders?" He joked slyly.
She laughed, then saying sarcastically, "You are not the first to be amused by this."
"I can imagine," he replied considering, "Though this is not what I expected."
"Though it should be so," she continued more serious, "For it was their fight and I had less heart in being counted amongst them. Besides, the world of men is no longer mine to exist in as such."
He was surprised to hear her say so, though he knew not if she felt she belonged amongst his kin.
She then added, as if knowing what he was thinking about, "Yet an Elvish existence appears overly complicated."
He looked at her skeptically, for it is difficult to view one's own world as such. "Explain what mean by complicated?"
"It is a far cry from living and dying by the sword," she remarked seeming amused. "I cannot yet see myself fitting comfortably within it."
He smiled at her strange thoughts, "You should not forsake what you have yet to experience," though he more so assumed she feared acceptance.
"Perhaps," she then considered what such an experience would curtail. "I was wondering if this night you would be willing to tell me more about Elvish history? For if I remember correctly, at Helm's Deep you were about to detail the ruin of Doriath."
The request was heartwarming to hear, for he enjoyed storytelling and to do so for her, whom the stories had yet to be passed to, brought him joy. As he spoke of this history, of King Thingol and Melian the Maia, their daughter Luthien, her love for the mortal Beren, their son Dior, and the kinslayings and turmoil that occurred in the years between and after, that he realized she did not know her own connection to this history. For it was not until he came to the Sack of Doriath, and later when her father and his twin were taken by the servants of Celegorm and left in the forest to die, that he noted her mind processing the information. "...Elwing, the daughter of Dior and Nimloth, escaped. She would become the mother of Lord Elrond, but the twin sons, Eluréd and Elurín were thought to have perished in the forests where they were left. Your presence proves this was not entirely the case."
She looked at him, her eyes appeared uncertain of how to respond for she was not expecting this dark history to lead to her own. "I did not know," she stated slowly and somewhat bewildered, "The Blue Wizards only specified my connection to Lord Elrond, saying I would come to understand the importance of my lineage in time. But I cared not for the subject, for such connections seemed distant."
"They are important, making you descendant of the High King of the Sindar and of the Maiar," he knew such a connection was not slight. "That is why, as I mentioned before, your bloodline is legendary."
"Tragic is more like it," she scoffed bluntly, seemingly unimpressed by such revelations on the titles of her ancestors, "And my history seems to fit quite well in one that is so full of death and misfortune. Yet it does not explain why my blood father hid his survival from history," she added slightly perturbed.
"Perhaps I should not have been the one to have told you, for I do not hold all the answers," he replied carefully.
"No, I am glad you did," she turned to him, and placed her hand on his side arm, her eyes showing appreciation, "For much more makes sense. I felt unrightfully privileged by those who would redeem me and I knew not why. But it does not make me anymore accepting or deserving of such aid, for blood titles mean nothing to one of the East." She tried not to let her irritation linger and knew there was more history she needed to know. "But the story continues into territory you do know. I did want to know more about Lord Elrond, and if you could share his history, I would be most appreciative?" As she was removing her touch from his arm, he caught her hand in his.
"I will tell you more, but know I believe that you were deserving of such aid, regardless of your bloodline," he told her sincerely, catching her eyes in his and keeping her from speech. He held her hand for reassurance of his words.
While skeptical of such tidings, she could not deny the feelings his touch coupled with these words evoked. "Coming from you, that means a lot to me," she replied wholeheartedly.
"There is yet hope amongst the ill fortune of your history," he added with a look of optimism, before letting go of her hand and continuing the history, "For the bloodline continued anew with Lord Elrond and his daughter Arwen Undómiel..." He explained to her further the founding of Imladris, eventually getting to contemporary concerns, including the relationship between Aragorn and his daughter; now she knew who the jewel around Aragorn's neck belonged to. But inevitably this history would require him to go over the choice of the half-Elven, one which only her bloodline had, for she queried such a relationship and how it would end. Here he was careful with how he worded his explanation.
"Such a choice can be made?" she said skeptically, "Or is it made for you?"
"It said that the choice of kindred can be made by you alone, only when you deem it so," he spoke while trying to grasp her thoughts.
Feeling somewhat overwhelmed by this information, she decidedly brushed them off as insignificant, saying sarcastically, "As I said, an Elvish existence is overly complicated."
He sensed her repressed tension, "It need not be."
She looked out on the expanses again, "True this may be, but it is of no consequence now. To speak of the future amidst the possibility of death," she then laughed slightly while saying, "I may yet end up wandering the Halls of Mandos for my sins are too great."
He looked at her surprised, for he was unaware she knew of the possibility of her fëar being denied entrance to Aman if she were to be killed in battle.
"The Blue Wizards did not speak of the choice of my bloodline, but presented me with where I stood in terms of my sins," she explained further, "I figured it was another means to threaten me into fighting for their resistance, but I was not stirred by it then."
"And now?" he asked feeling slightly sorrowful for her predicament.
A few moments of thought shook her from her previous attempt at detachment; she looked at him, marked strain in her eyes, "I should not have come West, for I feel the weight of this fate upon me."
"I do not believe this fate will be yours," he said calmly, then recalling, "Courage, strength..."
"Death," she spoke this word along with him, quickly recognizing the mantra of her clan.
"But not your own," he added with a small smile, remembering these exact words were a great comfort to him during his moment of despair at Helm's Deep.
"Not your own," she nodded with stirring pride. "You're right, it is not time to despair. We will see this through and then perhaps," she added with slight amusement, "We can truly have lighter conversations."
"I look forward to that day," he agreed truthfully.
"So do I," she replied, feeling strangely hopeful that such a day may come. They stood beside each other until sunrise, taking in the stars before they disappeared in the sunlight. They then parted ways as Vezely went to tend Gizik, hoping to take her for a short ride; for she was a horse unaccustomed to being cooped up in a stable. Upon entering she found Eowyn tending to her own horse.
"Good morning," she greeted her pleasantly, "You are awake early."
"I could not sleep," Eowyn replied with a small smile.
"You are troubled, for these are dark times and dark thoughts are not easily kept at bay," Vezely replied in commiseration. "Come with me for a morning ride, it will help settle your mind."
Eowyn was grateful for the invitation and accepted it, "...We can take Dulsan's Path. I have not been there in ages, for even venturing slightly outside these walls was deemed unsafe. Now our worries are not so close to home."
"Still," Vezely noted, "You should bring along the sword you hid in your horse's stable." For she had seen Eowyn adjusting its location upon entering and rightly assumed she was preparing to take it with her if they would leave for Minas Tirith.
Eowyn looked slightly surprised Vezely had seen her do so, though she held no concern of admonishment and attached her sword to her horse's saddle.
The two women would take a winding path that led behind the stables; it took them down to a back gate and the plains that stretched outside it. Their departure, however, did not go unnoticed by the some of the guards who stood watch over the Golden Hall.