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).

24. Cultural Differences

Chapter 24- Cultural Differences

Legolas pondered what Vezely meant by becoming "unfamiliar" to him as he positioned himself next to Aragorn on the second level terrace. His soon to be crowned companion gave him a small, reassuring smile. They both had little idea how the event below them would unfold, even if they had faith that Vez could handle it. Derufin, the translator, positioned himself in between them and Faramir, preparing to translate word-for-word of the Easterling's conversation below. They had a fair vantage point and several guards were positioned on the other side and at the corners for added precaution. Legolas had bow and arrow in hand as Vez entered the gates below, her eyes glancing once upon them before marching into the courtyard.

Despite wearing an ordinary Gondorian gown, and appearing as a young Elf woman of no rank, Vez's stance and walk exuded confidence and a sense of hierarchy. She inspected each man as she passed them, her eyes roaming their forms as her demeanor showed overt disdain at their shameful condition as prisoners of war. The men who bothered to look at her grew curious of her purpose, for while they had other guards enter and attempt engagement with them, none simply walked the courtyard alone in such a manner. What Vez was doing as she paced through the lot was attempting to find a man of rank who she could start a conversation with. Hierarchy mattered in the Easterling militia. Only superior officers would speak and she did not want to start talking to the wrong individual, for she would lose face if she did. There were few means to tell if a soldier held rank when stripped of their armor. What was left was the jewelry in their ears or visible tattoos, since both Variags and Haradrim marked their bodies as did the Balchoth.

She was starting to suspect no officer was amongst them until she considered a bald man who sat against a side wall, his face downturn, not appearing concerned with the current situation, though she noted his eyes had made several quick glances at her since she entered. She walked by him again. He wore distinct bolts in his ears and appeared to be tattooed heavily on his arms. Stopping in front of him, she barked orders in Easterling. "Get up," she spat angrily, kicking his side hard as she spoke, adding just after, "Captain."

Given proper title in proper tongue made his eyes immediately shift upward, finding the Elf woman standing as one would expect a general of the Easterling army, appearing superior and showing contempt for being made to wait. All eyes were now upon them, and some who were yet conscious on the battlefield that day realized this was the same warrior who their leader had engaged in combat with before he fell.

"The slayer of Öldür," one inhabitant spoke quietly nearby, making the others who sat on the ground standup and approach the area.

Their Captain, the only man of rank to survive, slowly got to his feet. He was a burly man, quite a bit larger than Vezely, with dark eyes and an unfriendly demeanor. Evoking similar confidence, he decided to size up who stood before him; this Elf woman he just heard marked as the one who defeated their leader. Narrowing his eyes upon her, he began encircling her in even and steady strides, as if a predator stalking his prey. With her head held high, Vez watched him from the corner of her eye, following him as he stepped out and back into her peripheral vision. He saw Rhunic script tattooed upon the back of her neck; the character for "courage" visible. There could be no other female Elf with Easterling script marking her body as such.

"Finally, you send someone of fucking worth to hold council," he yelled out amused in heavily accented Westron, purposefully calling up to those he knew were watching on the second level terrace.

Vez smirked at his words, for despite her imprisonment by Sauron, she yet held some respect for her past deeds in Rhun. But she did not know if acknowledgment of her identity helped or hurt the situation, it was too soon to tell.

He turned to his men, shifting back into Easterling tongue and pointing his hand towards her, asking them, "Vezely, Destroyer of Nations, is the slayer of Öldür, the Invincible?" Several men nodded, acknowledging what they saw on the field that day; detailing how he was disemboweled and then his neck sliced open by her blade. "Swear it upon your ancestors," he then demanded of them, needing absolute confirmation that their leader, the undead and undefeated Variag, was cut down by the evil Elf of equal legend before them. The men then swore to the deed they saw, putting it out of doubt.

The Captain stepped back in front of Vez, who knew exactly what he was questioning in his head, but she was unsure if he would uphold the custom of their people, for they stood not on the soil of Rhun. She then inquired, holding her strong stance before him, letting him know her expectations of the choice he needed to make, "It is now your call how council will be held, Captain."

Anger tainted his pride, for he was obviously displeased to give up his power, yet he also felt, especially due to his injuries, he would disgrace himself if he were to challenge her. Allowing his anger to dissipate, the Captain stood back from her, straightened his posture, brought his fist to his chest, and bowed his head down. He then went down on one knee. This prompted all the Variags around him to do the same thing. Vez held her head up proudly, shifting her position to fully witness the respect now allotted to her by these defeated warriors.

On the second level, in surprise, Faramir questioned the translator quietly, "What is going on?"

Aragorn and Legolas exchanged a concerned glance, as the translator offered an explanation, "They have shifted leadership to her."

Vez suspected the Captain would give up his leadership role, for the sake of custom and to avoid inevitable conflict, for she was known not to be one to mess with. Looking at their kneeling forms, she decided to add misery to their dejected position. "Pathetic. Robbed of the glorious death of a warrior on the field of battle, nursed back to health by enemy's hand, and now beholden to your leader's sworn adversary. Öldür, the Invincible," she scoffed the man's name and given title, "I made him and I destroyed him." Yet the soldiers did not seem fazed by her words; for being spoken to in such a sharp tone, regardless of content, was the norm of militia life. Yet there was one who was not pleased; a middle-aged warrior, clean cut black hair and medium build. He appeared in better condition than his fellow soldiers, with no visible bandages. He stood up from the group, holding his head high.

Vez looked over in his direction and smirked, for she had not expected things to go as smoothly as they appeared to be. She walked over to him, and allowed her eyes roam over his proud face while speaking to his superior, "Captain, who is this warrior?"

The captain stood up, "Yaban, he served as officer in Öldür's elite ranks."

"Yaban," Vez stated steadily, "You wish to speak?"

Then, as insult for taking the life of his leader, the man spit in her face. Hearing a bowstring pull back, Vez raised her hand calmly to let her companions know not to interfere.

"You show respect for your fallen leader. I can appreciate that," Vez noted calmly, undeterred by his action. "But now you will show respect to me."

"I will not bow before this Elf bitch traitor," he said angrily.

The Captain was not pleased, and he warned the man, "Stand down, Yaban. You know the consequences of your actions."

Vez put her hand out towards the Captain calmly, appreciating his warning but desiring to handle it her way. "Do not bow then," she told him in self-righteous tone. She then pivoted from him appearing to walk away, though it was simply a delay to her next action. Speaking as she turned around quickly, "Instead you will fall before me." She punched him hard in the face, sending him down to his knees. For good measure, she side punched him two more times, sending him to the ground and causing blood to run from his nose and a split gash in his forehead.

"Hold him up," she commanded two soldiers nearby, who obliged by hoisting him up by his arms. The man had fallen unconscious due to the force of her blows. "Wake him," she directed another soldier who obliged by retrieving a bucket of their drinking water and pouring it on top of his head.

"What is to be your fate?" she questioned his barely conscious form, "What is to be all of your fates?"

Shocked by her brute actions, Faramir spoke under his breath to Aragorn, "We have to stop this insanity. We cannot let her kill one of the prisoners."

Aragorn wanted to believe Vez had the situation under control, even though the line was close to being crossed, he stated staying calmly, "She knows what she is doing, give her time."

Legolas was slightly sick in his stomach, for Vez appeared far removed from the Elf he knew. His arrow was aimed to those around her, though he wondered if it was her who should be the target.

Vez squeezed Yaban's chin, tilting up his bloodied face to have him look her in the eyes, saying disdainfully, "If up to me, public executions," she then ran her hand to his neck, grasping it, choking him, "Your death as entertainment and your heads on pikes as decoration to the plain white walls of the city that now houses you as animals awaiting slaughter." The man had a sliver of fear in his eyes and she admittedly enjoyed the reaction, and to get it from a warrior in the elite ranks reminded her she still had her touch. She shifted her gaze, taking a moment to let their thoughts disturb them. Then adding with a slightly lightened tone, "But that is not your fate."

"Drop him," she commanded the two soldiers holding up Yaban, and they let go of his form and he slumped to the ground below her.

"On your feet," she then called harshly to the men a second later, and they immediately heeded her call, for they were trained to follow orders. She felt the pleasure of control immediately return to her. Speaking to them as she paced, "Instead, your shame turns you homeward. King Elessar offers you mercy and escort from these lands in the hopes you will respect a new era of peace."

She came back upon the Captain, who seemed puzzled by this, "Speak mind, Captain," she said giving him opportunity to voice thoughts.

"Variags do not know peace or accept mercy, General," the captain told her proudly.

"No, you do not, nor do any Easterlings. And you will continue to fight in order to survive, but not only by your sword," her voice then ascended to the group again, "Do not let your mighty civilization fall, not for the Dark Lord, who deceived you into believing him invincible. My people, the Balchoth," she held high her now bloodied and slightly cut up fist, making visible her gold ring, "Now stand as ash. Ash, mingled with the dust of a barren wasteland because they trusted that the Dark Lord's power could sustain them. Instead of tending our lands, we let them wither and fall into ruin for his West-seeking bloodlust. But Khand, your homeland, is yet fertile and in need of protection. For you know as well as I, it is ripe for the picking."

She turned to the few Haradrim among them, curiously watching from the sidelines, and hoping to engage them as well, stating, "And Great General Saladan would not have his remaining Harad warriors neglect similar threats on your forests."

She touched on something with them; reminding them how, drained of its armies, their lands were left undefended. And with the East's defeat, armies who did return or did not leave to fight would find abandoned valleys or forests a tempting prospect.

She continued her prodding, "You were robbed of a glorious death in battle, but do not rob yourself of a more glorious life. Regroup with other survivors, return to your families, sow the earth, expand your cities. Do not become ash for those who would use you as quickly as dispose of you. You are given the chance to make Rhun more than what it was, take it and reclaim your dignity."

The Captain who was sparked by this plea, also had reservations. He looked wearily at his men before looking back to Vezely for permission to speak, answering for all of them, "How do we know this king speaks the truth? How do we know our release is not for show; that this escort will not slit our throats once we've departed from the city?"

Vez thought this was a fair question, for she would assume similar motive if in their position. She looked among them, knowing at first the only proof she could provide was her word, before adding a change of plans, "Because your escort will be me. I return to Rhun as you, to rebuild its greatness." She knew by revealing she was also leaving, appearing to share in their dejected position, was an added measure of showing them her allegiance. For it proved, despite standing outside their prison walls, she still stood Easterling. "Tend to your wounds, regain your strength. We leave in three weeks time." She then looked to the man whose face she just ruined, "Including you, Yaban."

She counseled with the captain privately, saying assuredly, "I want a list of your soldiers' names and their ranks. I will check in regularly before we depart, to make sure you are not mistreated."

The Captain again brought his hand to his chest, bowing his head to her, "Gratitude, General."

"It is not me who shows you mercy," she told him, and then as if finally appearing to acknowledge their watchers, she looked up to the terrace at Aragorn, whose arms were crossed in thought. The Captain bowed his head to the king, which was a rare instance of gratitude.

While preparing to leave the courtyard, Vez's eyes unexpectedly fell on a man at the side of the group, attempting to not evoke suspicion by shielding his face with his head scarf; but he was one she immediately recognized by name.

She marched in his direction and in a swift motion, ripped his headscarf off, "Hello, Remi," she said grabbing his arm and yanking him to his feet, "Open the gates," she yelled, for she desired not to have this confrontation in front of the other men. "Move," she demanded the man roughly.

The remaining Variags held their stance when the Captain calmed their intrigue by holding his hand up, "They have business," knowing to allow their new leader to do as she pleased.

In the time that the gates were unlocked, Aragorn, Faramir, Legolas, and the translator had descended to the first level to witness Vezely throw the man against the side wall, while another swift motion retrieved the dagger from under her skirt. She pinned him to the hard stone with her forearm, holding the dagger against his neck.

"Remi, you two-faced bastard," she smirked slightly, for her suspicion had been proven. The man was around Eomer's age, with short, straight black hair and a slight beard having grown in since being in captivity; tall in build and roguish in demeanor. He was once a member of the Easterling Resistance; sent to Khand half a decade ago as an undercover agent to gather intelligence on the Variag armies; a task which had continually failed despite their many attempts. When correspondence stopped, they assumed he had been killed, though Vez believed otherwise. She was an acquaintance with the man prior his departure and noted a small strain of disfavor for the resistance; a disfavor she also shared at the time.

"Long time no see, Vezely. Nice dress," Remi croaked out his familiarity with her with some charm, giving a small smirk that hid the pain he just experienced, for he was yet healing from his own battle wounds; he was displeased at being roughly handled, though considerably less so by her.

"Who is this?" Faramir asked appearing calm and in charge, though noticeably disapproving of her barbaric manner.

"A former member of the resistance, and a traitor," she answered in Westron, relaying her accusations, "He gave up our position, and the names of those undercover in other locations."

Understanding what she spoke of him in Westron, Remi defended his actions in Easterling tongue, seemingly unconcerned with the knife at his throat or those now accompanying them. "Traitor? I but sought more promising prospects, as you would have if given the chance. You had no love for those you now ally with. What do you get out of this arrangement? A few broken men and a one-way trip to the wasteland you called home?"

Vez adjusted the knife against his throat, saying amused at his presumption, "Perhaps I will also get the pleasure of your death."

After Derufin attempted to translate their words, faltering slightly in speed due to the tenseness of the situation, Faramir inquired Aragorn quietly, "I know nothing about this resistance, but I cannot let her kill this man."

Gauging the situation carefully, Aragorn looked at Legolas, who was also contemplating it on several levels. The Elf's eyes had held sternly on the man Vez held, he did not like his tone or the way he looked at her, though he was also equally displeased by her actions. After a moment, Aragorn added, "These are Vez's men, it is her choice." Faramir tried to interject, but Aragorn put up his hand.

"It would be an honor to die at the hands of such a woman," Remi added in Westron right after, his tone mischievous, and appearing to hold his ground before her, for if he must die he would not grovel.

Vez's one eyebrow raised, "An honor?" She repeated in Westron, "Wrong choice of words." While it appeared she would strike, instead she flipped the dagger in her hand and jabbed him with the hilt into his side, which she noted from the blood staining his shirt, he had sustained an injury underneath. The blow made him fall before her. She pulled him up by the collar, pain marked his face. "I had no love for the resistance or the West, but even less so for Sauron and his allies. You chose betrayal for better prospects, enjoy the shame it now brings you."

"Guards, open the gate," Vez called, as she pulled Remi to his feet and pushed him through it.

Once on the other side, he regained his composure, straightened his collar, dusted off his shoulders, and bowed to her slightly, "The Evil Beauty will continue to enchant me." The nickname was one used by men who demeaned her as a seductress.

Vez retorted under her breath with a few choice words of her own, an obscene condemnation which if translated into the equivalent Westron would have truly marked her as impolite. She then overheard the translator speaking Remi's words in Westron to the group, his tone noticeably unsure what the moniker "Evil Beauty" meant, but he did not say what Vezely added after.

Walking towards him, she queried with slight disdain for the man in her eyes, "Not going to translate what I said, are you?"

Derufin swallowed, shaking his head in refusal.

She then turned to the group, lightening her tone while asking Aragorn curiously, "Did you know it was a veiled threat? That I would not kill him?"

"I assumed death would have been more merciful in this situation," Aragorn replied, as he was actively trying to figure out their culture.

Vez smirked, saying impressed, "You are perceptive," then looking back to the gate, she thought aloud, "I would continue his shame with the others."

"But you took some liberty in how you handled this situation," Aragorn stated calmly, but with concern.

"Liberty would be stating it mildly," Faramir added forthrightly, he was not pleased with the situation and wanted it to be known. "You knew they would shift leadership."

"I did not," she straightened her posture as if talking to her superiors, trying to defend herself respectfully, "For if the death I dealt to their leader went unnoticed and if a man of rank was not amongst them to then arbitrate the transfer of power, then this would not have been the case."

"Your role as negotiator was not to take control of these men," Faramir replied, his tone verged on lecturing her.

Vezely could not help but laugh slightly at being chastised; she felt she had accomplished negotiations even better than they could have hoped for; even better then she hoped for. Still drunk on power she said to Faramir overtly displeased, "Then you should not have asked for my assistance, which I mentioned could cause complications. One being, they are now my men and my responsibility," she then decided to make some demands of her own, "Thus, you will hold council with me regarding all matters which may pertain to them until they are released. After which I will escort them from your city, and your guards will stay at your gate."

"You are in no position to make those demands," Faramir replied strongly, his hand instinctively gripping the hilt of his sword.

Vez reasoned back boldly, her eyes engaging his, "But they are fair demands."

"Am I to simply trust you will not march this army of yours on our settlements as you pass our lands to your own, that you will not rape and pillage Ithilien for your own spoils?" Faramir inquired firmly, holding his ground against her forwardness.

Vez's eyes narrowed, she was angered at having such assumptions made about her intent. She was yet gripping the dagger dangerously at her side, noticeably adjusting it in her grasp.

Legolas and Aragorn intervened at this point, noting the discussion had escalated on both ends. Legolas, who was still working through what he witnessed just prior, placed a hand softly on her shoulder, while Aragorn spoke, "We have no reason to doubt Vez's intentions. My concern is whether it is wise for her to escort them alone," he stated with care, noticeably appearing as arbiter.

Legolas's touch calmed Vez slightly, as did Aragorn's words, and she released her tightening grip on the dagger, she added re-steadying her voice, "I do not expect mutiny, if that is your concern. My intent as solo escort is to share in as well as alleviate their shame as a form of solidarity."

"Then perhaps we should imprison you with them," Faramir added right after, not ready to back down on what appeared to be three against one.

Vez gritted her teeth and re-narrowed her eyes on the Steward, re-adjusting the dagger in her hand, but Legolas stepped in, "Vezely has more reason than you know to return them to Rhun and set them on a path of its renewal. If she believes they will not break from her control, then we must trust her."

Swallowing his pride, Faramir decided to momentarily lay off the topic, saying, "I will consider these requests," then adding to her in particular, he stated displeased, "If there is one thing that has been proven to me, appearances are truly deceiving." He was referring to their first conversation in the infirmary's terrace gardens when he referred to her as a "lady," saying the same phrase when she replied that she was no lady. Providing a courteous nod to Legolas and Aragorn, Faramir would then leave the group with Derufin by his side.

Aragorn hoped to break some tension, saying encouragingly, "I see how you managed legions."

Vez looked down momentarily, trying to release her anger at the Steward, before saying steadily, "Perhaps I should have given proper warning."

"Well, you accomplished what was requested of you and it is appreciated. I will discuss these matters further with Faramir, for I find your demands reasonable," he said with some optimism.

"Gratitude," Vezely replied, grateful she was not completely misunderstood.

Aragorn exchanged a consoling glance with his Elf companion before leaving them; knowing Legolas was uncomfortable by what he witnessed and would have to come to terms with it.

As he left, Vez detached the dagger's belt from her thigh, re-sheathed the blade and handed it back to the same guard she took it from. As he reached for it, she pulled it back and away from his grasp, saying dangerously, "Watch where you let your eyes roam next time," which caused his eyelids to go wide before hesitantly taking it from her.

Both Elves desired to leave the prison grounds before speaking to each other, so they walked side-by-side in silence; uncomfortable and uncertain of the other's thoughts.

"You have an army now," he said to her coldly in Elvish once they exited the entrance and made their way towards the stables.

"It is not an army," she corrected him, noting by his tone he was displeased. She turned her eyes on him as they walked, surprised when he kept his averted from her. Defending herself, she said, "I did as expected of one who assumes command."

"Of an army," he added unconvinced.

Vez breathed in deeply, and released her breath immediately after, conceding, "Yes, an army, alright. I challenged and killed their leader in battle. The Variags as the Balchoth deem that worthy to assume the position if requested. I thought it would be easier for them to concede to Aragorn's mercy if I did so."

"Then I witnessed you almost kill two men in the process," he added critically, "With no small matter of enjoyment."

Vez practically rolled her eyes before they stopped next to their horse, but when realizing this incident demoted her in his mind from the evening before, when he called her untainted, she could not help but feel dejected. She shifted her eyes away from him and said nothing, for she simply had no heart to argue with him, nor could she deny what he said about enjoyment.

Her silence made Legolas feel slightly ill for making blunt accusations. He pulled some clean cloth from the saddle bag and gently took her bloodied right hand and carefully wrapped the linen around her cut knuckles, trying to forget that she broke the skin by punching a man's face. "Forgive me," he said, his tone somewhat lightened, "I do not understand your culture." After finishing his careful wrapping with a small knotted bow of the fabric, he still could not look her in the eyes, realizing this with some concern, though he did not let go of her hand. He breathed in deeply, keeping his eyes from hers. Elves often could see through the eyes of other Elves, and understand their motives and emotions. Legolas realized today he could not do so with her and it concerned him.

Her eyes watched him as he finished wrapping, finding his sudden aversion to look up at her worrisome. She explained her position softly, "I hesitated when requested this task for I feared showing that part of my character would disallow you to look at me the same way." She brought her other hand to his chin, and gently lifted it, but his eyes were still cast downward, her voice wavered slightly in fear, "Please do not think my heart has gone astray, for I truly believe my means justify the ends. I will lead these men home with new purpose, but I had to prove I was worthy to do so."

He finally looked at her sternly, querying with his words and eyes, "And that requires you become a tyrant?"

"It is militia culture," she rejoined sharply, quickly removing her hand from his grasp, "The man who insulted me and spit in my face, Yaban, I would have killed him for similar offense in the past, but today I spared his life not because Gondor was watching, but because I would give all those men a chance to start anew. Even a man whose actions cost the lives of hundreds and put the wizards I am indebted to on the run," she did not even know if the Blue Wizards were alive, a thought that continued to worry her. She then added, "I will turn their shame into hope, as I plan to do with my own."

He looked wearily at her, for it remained hard to reconcile what appeared to him as a lust for power; and that she might have used that dagger on Faramir crossed his mind.

Upon realizing his eyes remained cold and speech stalled, caused Vez to back away from him slowly before turning around and leaving the stable's entrance; her feet taking her swiftly to the street, as her mind worked through his reaction. She wondered if it was wrong of her to enjoy being in control again, to practice her trade as a commander of fighting men, to momentarily have back the respect she lost upon being imprisoned; a respect built on blood and battle, as a Balchoth warrior. She admitted she was tired of over 60 years worth of kowtowing to others as nothing more than a common soldier and before that, her imprisonment as nothing more than a caged animal; having her fate being in other people's hands and not her own. Now she was on her own path to redemption and one she decided would take her back to Rhun. Could she not return there as a leader, and one with just cause in tow?

Legolas watched with sudden worry as she left the stables, unsure whether his reaction was warranted. Yet he held a deeper fear within him - a fear of Vezely's ability to redeem herself, whether her actions and those that follow could be overlooked as necessary means to the only end that truly mattered to him: having her by his side when they leave these shores. He saddled his horse and went after her, easily catching up and trotting alongside her steadily, though she refused to acknowledge his presence.

"I should not have doubted your intent," he said looking down at her.

"But you doubt my means," she replied, finally looking up at him perturbed, causing both of them to stop.

"I do," he stated truthfully, but with care, "But I have faith that you know what needs to be done. That your heart has not strayed from the task you have set on."

"It has not," she told her, her eyes showing appreciation for his words. Then she added sharply, crossing her arms in slight defiance, "But I cannot stray from truest nature either. Even with the light of the Eldar renewed, I am more Easterling than Elf. And obviously my manner as such offends."

"There is much we still do not understand about each other. Let us spend these few weeks learning, for I am not averse to trying to see through your eyes, if you are willing to see through mine," he inquired apologetically while offering her a hand as invitation to ride behind him.

Finding his willingness to work through their differences endearing, led Vez to slowly uncross her arms, and loosen her strict stance. For she knew he was right, they did not fully understand one another yet, despite their devotion. She took a couple of seconds before taking his hand and jumping up behind him. Once there, she realized her energy was spent. Holding onto him around the waist, she fell lightly forward onto his back and rested the side of her head on his shoulder, enjoying the scent of his hair as she did.

He turned his head to look at her, saying solidly, "I am taking you back to rest, General," adding with an eyebrow raised and querying tone, "Or should I call you, Destroyer of Nations?"

She shook her head as she laughed slightly at his jest. "I will follow your orders, but only if you continue to call me Vezely," she replied, her face forming a small smile. Their cultural differences could wait until later to be worked through.