Thank you all for the comments and continued support! I am amazed that I have over 200 followers now.

Speaking of which, a lovely follower has surprised and honored my character by drawing her. I wanted share them with all of you so I created a tumblr for the story - vezely.tumblr. Please check them out (and add the dot com)! She would also love to know what you think. And if you are on tumblr, I would be happy to interact with you on there as well! :D

Chapter 26- "If I Would Have Known"

As Vezely walked down to the third level of Minas Tirith, the cobbled streets felt unexpectedly soothing on the soles of her feet, for the bottom of her flats were thin, lacking the support of leather boots. The day markets, the largest of which had originally been located on the first level, had all relocated since the battle to level three's smaller specialty marketplace, due to the destruction caused by the war below. Life had continued in the White City, even if slightly rearranged. Vez had already exchanged some of her gold jewelry for coin at a small treasury on the fifth level, getting more than she expected. Depending on market prices she should have enough for some clothing items and some left over to start gambling with, which she had decided to try that evening; anything to avoid confrontation with a certain someone. She would give him "time" as desired, she thought, for she also needed it.

Earlier that morning, dawn's sun seemed to blare unrelentingly into Vezely's room, making her wish shutters or curtains blocked what once seemed like a pleasantly open and inviting window. After the evening before, she did not want to face the day. His words, if I would have known, replayed over and over in her head as she tried to rest. She wondered what he meant. If he would have known she had committed such atrocities prior to meeting her again at the edge of Fangorn, would he not have broken his wall of distrust and engaged in friendly conversation with her? Would he not have offered her words of comfort in her time of utmost confusion? Would he not have come to care for her as he said he did?

Instead of despair, she grew angry that he reacted that way. For she thought revealing she was far worse in the past would prove that today she truly stood anew; that it would lessen his worry about her actions with the prisoners, since to her those tactics were soft. Was he that surprised she had done those things as one of Sauron's commanders? She had given him proper warning of her corruption, telling him she was impure and undeserving of forgiveness and further undeserving of his love. He had declared she was no longer the elf he laid eyes upon in Mirkwood. Perhaps, she thought, he forgot that hundreds of years stood after that time, and in his father's kingdom he encountered but mere shadow of the general she would become.

Or was he incapable of believing such crimes could be committed by one of his race? He said he could not see through her eyes. The Balchoth in her wavered on mocking the softness and inexperience of Elves. He spent his life killing Orcs, she reasoned, soulless, evil creatures unworthy of sympathy or life. Perhaps even his preference for archery spoke to a desired removal from killing; avoiding locking eyes with the life you extinguish. But amongst these thoughts, memories of her Elvish childhood would filter in, contradicting and taunting her disposition on killing. Her blood mother teaching her that all life is sacred and deserves consideration, to provide mercy to all; that life was fragile and not given lightly. Perhaps she stood too conditioned by Balchoth culture to truly hold this to heart, but acknowledging that such teachings would reflect Legolas's own understanding slightly lightened her contempt on Elvish ways of seeing the world. He is also conditioned by his beliefs and she cannot blame his reaction perhaps.

Or was it her other revelations that truly caused him consternation? She had no prior inkling of the equation of sex and marriage within Elvish custom; that if Elves simply fornicated, foregoing a ceremony, they would become forever bound never crossed her mind. To suddenly reveal her prior sexual relations with men, did it not place her further into an undesirable category for the Prince of Mirkwood? She desired to tell him it meant nothing, for she never loved those men who provided her the most momentary of pleasures. She had lived as any other man or woman in the Easterling army, where it was customary for unmarried warriors to have partners; or "lovers" as they were deemed. Soldiers' camps were segregated, but there was an integrated campsite where such rendezvous were permitted. Despite the rigor, expectations, and seriousness of warfare, warriors continued to have clandestine lives during mandatory service in the militia. Women would find amusement in seeing who could "conquer" the best warriors for they were often considered the best lovers. Men also found prestige in bedding women of note, and Vezely undoubtedly had admirers. But her lovers were incredibly few through the years. One reason was her rank, for she could not show favor to lower ranked soldiers, while at the same time she desired to sidestep accusations of bedding her commanders for purposes of control. The other was a growing disinterest in playing with the hearts of men, caring not for any associated emotions, which she deemed as weak and unnecessary. The few men who got so moved to profess their love to her would find their physical engagement quickly ended, for she desired no such relationship. However, she never felt disgraceful for what was a cultural expectation; for someone marked as different by blood she was not different by culture. And while Öldür's evil act against her angered her, she would not be destroyed by it, for she had destroyed him. But standing before Legolas last night, she suddenly felt dirty and undesirable; an abomination to his people. Or even worse; not one of his people.

She would give him his "time," but she would not anguish during it, she thought, again preferring to be angry rather than hurt by his reaction. I am no child, she told herself, I will not cry for another. But it was the only way she could deny that her heart was breaking inside her chest.

Before entering the bustling marketplace, Vezely adjusted her headscarf slightly, which, thanks to still having a pair of scissors, she was able to craft out of a blue silk blend throw blanket in her room. She was not concerned about blending in with men, having become even more accustomed to hiding her Elvish identity since she started working for the resistance. Donning a scarf over her hair and ears felt so natural that she had only recently gotten use to its absence. The market was large, as expected for the size the city. It was divided into sectors: fresh fruits and vegetables, meats and fish, salts and spices, house items and clothing. She moved along with the crowd through the stalls and storefronts, becoming intrigued when she came upon a storefront which sold spices from Rhun. The air was saturated with scents so familiar it brought both pleasant and difficult memories to mind. The store was quite large, with covered awnings stretching out from the facade of a three-story building, where it also appeared the owner had their residence on the second and third levels. Being sold was more than just spices; inside there was fine cloth and clothing that looked to be from lands far beyond Rhovanion.

No one was there to greet her at its entrance, unlike the other stalls who had hawkers trying to pull in customers who walked by. Undoubtedly business had been slow since the war and all sellers needed to up their sales through enticing marketing and loud revelations of sales. A moment after she stepped inside, however, a great beast of a hound raced towards her snarling and baring its teeth, its growls concurrent with a woman's shrill voice from the back of the stall crying, "Fang, no, get back here!"

Vezely narrowed her eyes and put her hand out towards the riled animal, her palm facing downward, instantly causing it to stop in his tracks, whimper slightly, and back up slowly. She then waved her palm towards her, giving it leave to not fear. It hesitated slightly before moving nearer and once there it allowed Vez to pet it behind the ears.

"Apologies!" An elderly woman appearing to be in her mid-sixties had raced from the back of the store, her hand clutching at her chest, her breathing heavy, "He had gotten loose and I feared the worst."

Vez looked at her skeptically, wondering why such a fearsome animal would be guarding a woman of her age in a city such as this. "Does he often get loose?" she asked politely, still petting the great dog whose height reached her hip.

"Oh no, we make sure Fang is tied tight when the store is open. His purpose is to protect the premises in the evening," the lady replied coming closer to her, trying to relax her breathing.

"You need such protection?" Vez asked curiously, unintentionally observing the years lining the woman's face.

"Not until recently," she said with a weary smile, taking the rope bridling the animal, which had happily seated himself next to Vez. "For as you see, we trade in specialties from Rhun, and being at war with them, it is not just our trading partners that have grown hostile. Locals don't take kindly to our wares either. We had two break-ins a few months back for the purpose of vandalism and theft, of course, for spices are not cheap these days. Since we got Fang, though, we haven't had a problem." She then noted admiringly, "He seems taken with you. I've never seen him take kindly to strangers, hence my former worry."

"I am lucky then," Vez smiled, for undoubtedly her Elvish qualities caused such affection, she then added, hoping to inquire on sales, "I have not been to the third level markets in ages and am admiring the garments in your shop."

"Ah," the woman seemed surprised, for she was internally querying why an ordinary Gondorian woman would enter a place considered somewhat exotic. She then inquired, "My garments are not usually of interest to young woman these days."

"Then why do you carry them?" Vez asked, appearing amused by the old woman's curiosity and turning her inquiry into a question for her.

"It is a long story," she responded cheerfully, "One of my family's' connection to Rhun."

"You have ancestors from there?" she asked intrigued, finding some pants and pulling them from the rack, as she did.

The old woman did not hesitate to go into story mode, telling the tale of her great grandmother who was from Rhun, though she knew not exactly where. Her and her family had been driven out of their village by the Easterling armies, forcing them to cross Rhovanion into Gondor. "...Just so happens she would marry into a merchant family, one with dealings in the Eastern spice trade. But she also desired to import other goods, mostly for herself, but for others who may have an interest in exotic fashions. I continue this tradition, though through the years with the increasing hostilities there has been little hope of sales. Desired disassociation with Rhun, I suppose."

Vez was surprised to find she had a hand in this woman's family tree, for undoubtedly it was her armies which displaced her great grandmother from her home during that time. "If all of us could have such diverse histories," she said, appearing grateful to have heard the tale. Vez unfortunately had grown overly accustomed to acting uncover that lies easily rolled off her tongue. This was her job in the resistance, to extract information from various sources, and preferably, as the Blue Wizards would consistently remind her, not by force. She then added, hoping to strike bargain, "I too have an interest in exotic fashion and desire purchasing your garments, if price can be agreed upon."

Taking this as a gesture of good will for her plight in sales, the old woman perked up, "I am sure we can find an agreeable price."

Vez would pull a number of garments from the rows, finding ones appropriate for the upcoming weeks of relative leisure and others appropriate for her future journey. The lady would also display some to her liking, adding information on her marketing, "...I know that these colors are not as vibrant as some that can be found in Rhun, but to help sales I choose ones more consistent with Gondorian preference."

The lack of vibrant colors was actually a relief to Vez, who thought the grays, browns, and washed out violets of Gondor suited her better. But she was also happy to find some reds amongst them, for she remained drawn to that hue. She found a long-sleeve washed out violet linen top, a pair of dark maroon balloon pants, fitted at the ankle, and a matching, though lighter hue short, peplum blazer with dark brown embroidery at the hems and cuffs. Her current plain brown flats would still work well as shoes, forgoing an immediate need to purchase leather boots.

"I have always admired the versatility of such trousers for woman," the old woman mused.

"They do allow one to mount a horse more smoothly," Vez added, though not necessarily letting on her knowledge of having worn such trousers before, as she pulled out others garments to consider as later purchases; a tunic she thought might be worthy of returning to Rhun in. "You don't happen to sell scarves?"

"That is one thing I have more than enough of," she said cheerfully, "They are a more popular item."

Having chosen a dark crimson one, she then asked the price, finding herself surprised at how low it was that she considered not even bargaining. Yet she found herself bargaining in two more items; charcoal for lining her eyes and Easterling Spice Tea. A small tin cost more than several of her garments combined, but she felt it could serve a higher purpose in the days to come.

"I will stop by again soon," Vez added cordially before leaving, thinking of purchasing the tunic she saw before her journey. She then pet Fang on the head; the large dog had lingered by her side as she went through the store.

"It would be a pleasure," the old woman chirped, grateful to have a customer of her seemingly forgotten wares.

Considering the evening before, Vez felt incredibly relieved that her task that morning proved simpler than conceived. She decided to return to the guest house, unload her items, and linger until evening, when she could go to the Dim Quarters to gamble for more coin. Her purse still had enough weight to allow for a promising start at the tables.

But despite desiring to return to her room unnoticed, she was reprehended by one of the house maids upon entering the guest house, "Miss, I do not think you should be in here?" Vez turned to face her, surprising the woman who made the mistake due to Vez still wearing her headscarf. "Apologies Lady Vez, I did not know it was you!" Vez smiled briefly before turning to continue on her way without comment, only to be chased after, "I am very sorry if I offended you, but it is good I came upon you," the maid said trying to keep pace by her side, for Vez did not stop walking and still hoped to return to her room without any further interruptions. "A letter from the Steward arrived. If you could be so kind to wait here it will only take me a moment to retrieve, for it seems urgent."

"Fine," Vez said slightly perturbed, for both failing her goal of reaching her room quickly and for having to soon read words from Faramir; though the maid did rush back to her side quickly, letter in hand, thus allowing Vez leave to continue to her room and read along the way. "There is also a horse waiting for you when you are ready!" The maid called to her as she was walking away, relaying some more information. Before even reading the letter, Vez assumed the afternoon would not be spent resting as desired and she begrudgingly broke the wax seal.

Lady Vez, [she scoffed slightly at his addition of "lady" thinking he kept it there for bitter reminder.]

The prisoners have begun making improper demands, suddenly feeling entitled to better treatment than already being served. There has also been an altercation between a guard and a prisoner which I would consider weightier punishment for, but perhaps this is for you to decide. Your earliest assistance is requested.

Steward

"Vague much," she mused slightly annoyed in Easterling tongue after she finished reading, noting how he left out what entitlements and what kind of altercation. Though she admittedly was glad to be informed at all; noting at least Faramir was upholding part of her request. Upon reaching the hallway to her room's door, she suddenly became aware of the sound of her own footsteps, for she knew not if Legolas was behind his door. It was odd for her to suddenly desire to avoid him, for so long she had wanted nothing more than to be by his side. Though as she tried to step quieter, endearing thoughts of his ability to always hear her came to mind; making her realize such attempt was folly. She would dress in her new clothes, line her eyes with charcoal, and smooth down her hair before taking to the provided horse, returning to the second level prisons. At least she looked far more respectable as a leader of such men.

Reconciliation, Legolas had spent the evening thinking through its ramifications. The details he now held on Vezely's past far outweighed any possibility of it being easily succumbed to, despite his stated commitment to her. She was once farther removed from the light of his people than he had ever imagined, for her hands were stained with the blood of innocents and her flesh tainted by acts which put any true union with him already into question. If he would have known she stood so debauched, so corrupted, perhaps he would not have broken words with her that evening on their journey to Helm's Deep, or have told her she was a child of the stars as he was; for Elves do not kill women and children, or feel nothing for the suffering of others as she did when she sent those men to their deaths on Ester Ridge. But, he reminded himself, she was a servant of Sauron, who had erased all knowledge of her life under the trees, led her adopted peoples to destruction by promising them victory in a battle they could not win, and placed the power of legions in her hands to achieve his desired ends only to be imprisoned when appearing to fail to uphold his standards in wickedness. She disapproved of the title Nwalmaer, but for an Elf to commit such atrocities, she had to be tormented and seduced by evil, and that evil saturated her entire being, almost snuffing out the light of his people.

His thoughts wavered back and forth from pity, to sorrow, to anger, to love. He should not feel deceived into loving her, but yet, he could not believe his heart would have so willingly linked with one of such a dark past if he had known these details. If only he would have heeded her warnings when she called herself "corrupted," an "abomination" in Elvish eyes. No, he had fallen in love with an Elf from Rhun, one he truly believed stood on the cusp of redemption. Now, even with light renewed, he knew not whether her hands could ever be cleansed of the blood that stained them. Perhaps her denied entry into Valinor was fate deserved, for how could one who caused such pain be allowed eternal bliss.

But even thinking such unforgiving thoughts about the one he had given his heart to, made tears come to his eyes. Had she not also suffered grievous injustice at the hands of her tormentor? Did she not deserve mercy and a second chance, as all living beings are deserving of such? And could he now dishonor her further and place her hard earned resolve at risk from what could spark a broken heart? Or could he simply sail away to the Undying Lands and let his love for her fade from memory?

Legolas had never done wrong in his life; he was always steadfast in heart and mind, a role model for his people, and the pride of his father. Having fought heroically in this war with the added honor of being a member of the Fellowship, he knew not why suddenly he deserved such hardships concerning matters of the heart. Did he not deserve the love he so long desired, a pure, blissful love, but forewent in his many centuries under the trees? But he told himself, he had found it, for in her arms love thrived between them, it was real and true. But would it still be there now that he held such knowledge? Could he look upon her the same way and feel as he did? Could he still hold her hand knowing the innocent blood that stained it? Or kiss her lips knowing that many men had done so before?

That morning he heard Vezely leave her room, as he remained inside his, finding slight endearment that she moved slightly rougher than most Elves, which allowed him to easily track her sounds. A minute later he would answer a knock on his door, noticing he desired it to be her, only to find a letter being handed to him by one of the house maids. It had arrived by carrier pigeon that morning, carried from Mirkwood and penned by the hand of his father. It was his first correspondence from home since leaving for Rivendell.

Dearest son,

You have honored our house and our realm with your heroic efforts. When I heard you volunteered as member of the Fellowship, pride stirred in my heart. And now that you have emerged unharmed from battle's end to stand as no other of our kin, it does much to mend the wearied heart of an already troubled father.

Our realm has suffered greatly at the hands of Sauron's forces, for a great fire has spread throughout our beloved forest that its embers yet burn. But all rejoice in the Shadow being rescinded, for Dol Guldur is no more. A new alliance, ending a long era of distrust, has been forged between Lord Celeborn and I. Northern and Southern realms of Mirkwood, now renamed the Eryn Lasgalen (Wood of Greenleaves), have been divided and claimed. With respect to such bonds, I ask you consider further strengthening our alliance and honor our two houses by accepting the niece of Celeborn, Lady Adele, as your betrothed. For so long you have denied yourself partnership, preferring to keep a watchful eye on our forests and our kin. But now, with Shadow rescinded, such bliss need not be pushed aside. Lady Adele is of beauty and grace, of intelligence and fairness, a High-Elf Maiden well suited to your character and ancestry. Please consider this request.

I have also exchanged by mind of Lord Elrond, information that you selflessly assisted the Eastern Elf I once aided on her fated journey through our realm, a path known that someday you would cross. But I have also heard rumor that you may hold affection for one so damaged. I am not and have never been a father who sways trusted son from own path, but I do seek to place warning in your head for darkness that could follow such unconsidered desires.

I care only for your happiness, thus this letter has not been sent to condemn, but in preparation for the Elven Delegation's arrival in Minas Tirith, so you are not overwhelmed by unknown information or unprepared to meet said Elf Maiden, who also stands to represent her people. My envoy is traveling with proper attire for the Coronation of King Elessar and other undoubtedly missed comforts from home.

Ada

Legolas furled his brow in contemplation, for the initial joy of reading his beloved father's words and news of the war there being won were replaced by a heavy burden of a marriage request and condemnation of his current affection; condemnation which he himself had just been dealing with. The request, however, that he could be moved to marry another for political reasons, even if his heart was unattached and he stood as before this war, was far from appreciated. He would have considered it for the sake of his father and respect to his kingdom, meeting the said Elf-Maiden for purposes of considering chemistry, but he would prefer only to marry for love. Love which he had professed to another, he again reminded himself. He knew these current complications between him and Vezely were not going to subside from mere contemplation, for their worlds were too far apart, despite their hearts being professed as one. Acknowledgement that his father did not approve of their relationship when he held hope that he would, only furthered his confusion and uncertainty of his future with her. Their relationship would not be accepted amongst his kin and he was foolish to think otherwise. Now his heart truly felt lost.

After entering the prison grounds, Vezely was escorted by a guard to Faramir's office, as he stood with Derufin by his side.

"So good of you to join us, Lady Vez," immediately he noted her slightly more Easterling appearance from the day before, "We seek your exultant advice on recent matters of concern, since you so desired to provide it," he said cordially, though to Vez it sounded like he was purposefully mocking her.

She raised one eyebrow, unmoved by his mild mocking, replying, "Quit the pleasantries, Steward. Instead give voice to such matters."

Faramir realized she was not as easily riled, and then explained as she desired, "The man who was of your former resistance, this Remi, has assaulted one of our guards as they were making their rounds in the evening. He is now being held in his own cell. And as to the demands, they come from the mouth of this Captain. He desires rites to be spoken on the battlefield, to honor their fallen comrades in death. I would consider punishment for the assault, and deny the need for such rituals to be performed, seeing as we have already buried their dead with utmost respect."

"The guard," Vez asked, finding his explanations still lacking, "Is he yet of this world?"

"He was not killed, only hit across the face," Faramir responded, unsure of her interest or angle.

"And the motivation for said assault?" she then asked, for she wondered about the treatment of her men.

"Motivation? There is none that would make a difference," he replied coldly, gaining a sense of where this was going.

"Perhaps, but if I find out your guards are treating the prisoners inhumanely," she stated dangerously, giving him some warning. Then after the briefest smile, she continued steadily, "I will discuss this matter with the prisoner in question. I believe temporary segregation is a worthy enough punishment, for your guard but suffered wounded pride. As for these demands. I need to talk with the Captain further to understand the nature of them."

Faramir narrowed his eyes, "Are you not of Rhun? Do you not know of this ritual?"

"Rhun is made up of thousands of cultures, each with their own historically evolving rituals and customs," she explained, "I do not know all that exist within its borders. If stated reason sways your denial, well, that remains to be seen."

Faramir gave consideration to her methods, noting she was methodical in her approach. Perhaps, her ways as a general of the past were not simply barbaric, despite what he witnessed of her the prior day. "Fair enough. Derufin will accompany you, for he also serves as my scribe and will note what is spoken at these meetings."

"I would not have expected otherwise," she stated, eyes engaged on his, following him as he left before turning them on Derufin, who seemed slightly uncomfortable by her presence.

"This way," he stammered out, afterwards leading her to the holding cells.

Vez was not surprised it would be Remi who caused the problem; she figured he would be a thorn in her side until dropping him off at the borders of Khand.

Coming upon his cell, she said mockingly, "Seems you have found yourself rightful place."

He smirked before standing up from his seat, replying slyly while his eyes grazed over her body, "And you proper attire. Rhun finery suits you like no other."

Ignoring his remark, Vez inquired, "You are charged with assaulting a guard. I would hear more of this incident, not that I can trust anything you say."

"The guard got but deserved reply for brash insult of the one who now stands before me," Remi stated assuredly, standing a bit straighter.

"The guard insulted me?" Vezely queried disbelievingly.

"Gondorians do not know what it means to follow a woman of such worth," he stated with some pride while awaiting her reaction.

Remi had not changed one inkling since their prior engagements, continuing his unanswered affection for her and self-righteous attitude. "Regardless of their backwardness, it has cost you," she added mildly, not disagreeing with his assertion on Gondorian gender norms, "You will remain segregated for some time."

"Such a price is worth defending your honor," he added again with mischievous intent.

"Is it?" she asked now slightly perturbed, "When yesterday, a dishonorable title of past flowed freely from lips?" She considered he was partially to blame for her disagreement with Legolas last night, and his interest in the meaning behind the moniker the "Evil Beauty," which prompted discussion of an uncomfortable and thereafter damning subject.

He smirked, reminding her that she hit him with the hilt of the dagger, "You did just cause grievous injury," he said placing a hand on his side.

She smirked slightly, "In lieu of one more deserved. Try not to find yourself in another mishap, for I will not dissuade harsher punishment," then she turned from him, having finished conversation and desiring to speak with the Captain.

"I will take this as you yet holding favor for me," he remarked amused as she left.

Vez stopped and looked at him over her shoulder, saying sardonically, "As one favors piss and shit," causing Remi to laughed, for Vez had not changed much in his mind either; still sarcastic and foul mouthed when she wanted to be. He could not deny he had a thing for her, and enjoyed every opportunity provided to let her know; missing such banter. As for Vez, Remi remained delusional she thought, as she continued down the corridor, Derufin at her side. The translator had not said a word while listening to their conversation, though he took brief notes.

At the gates of the courtyard, she asked him, "Will you be joining me?" Wondering if the man was brave enough to venture beyond the gates.

"Yes, I will," he said, trying to sound unworried.

"Alright, but I will not be held responsible for your safety," she replied nonchalantly in order to add to his discomfort with the task. The guard she had taken the dagger from the day prior started removing the belt from his side, fearful to be asked and wanting to be ready. Noting this, Vez smirked, "The weapon is not necessary today."

"Not necessary?" Derufin asked confused, perhaps hoping for the added protection.

"Nope, open the gates," Vez asked the guards who obliged.

Walking in with Derufin behind her, Vez was greeted by her men, who stood from their seated positions to offer respect for their new leader. "At ease," she said switching back into Easterling tongue, as she paced through them towards the Captain who also stood to greet her.

"General," the large, bald headed man greeted her properly.

"Captain," she replied back, "Forgive my shadow," she said referring to Derufin who trailed behind her. "They place little trust in us foreigners," which caused him to smirk. "But I would have proper council and perhaps, decent tea can be prepared for it," she said retrieving from her jacket pocket the small tin of Easterling Spice Tea she had purchased from the market that morning.

The prisoners had means to boil their own water, and thus make tea by kettle on one of the many small furnaces which served to heat the side rooms where they slept. The Captain immediately gave orders to a soldier to prepare the tea, as another placed a blanket on the floor as a makeshift meeting area. Vezely said nothing as the soldiers did the work; sitting comfortably on the floor across from the Captain holding her head high as the kettle and cups were brought to them and they were served. Vezely had many meetings like this with fellow commanders, the manners of which were specific and honed. Both observed them, customarily refusing to speak before the tea was poured and enjoyed. Derufin sat uncomfortably nearby, not given the same honor of being served tea.

After their first sip, the Captain retrieved from his shirt pocket a folded paper, placing it on the floor and pushing it over to Vez, who retrieved it and opened it to find scribed within the lists of all the soldiers names and ranks, including the names of the few Haradrim remaining.

"Gratitude," Vez spoke, breaking the silence as she perused the names on the list, grateful he had fulfilled her request, before folding the paper and placing it inside her own jacket pocket. "I wish to break words on the nature of the rites you desire performed, in hopes of persuading those of its necessity," her eyes shifted momentarily to Derufin, further explaining the nature of his presence and of her holding council.

Noting exactly what she meant, the Captain began his explanation, "A fortnight has passed, and before a second follows, oak and oil needs to be burned and rites spoken on the field of battle in order to ensure the spirits of the deceased will be sped along..." He further explained how since the bodies of their dead were not burned as customary, instead buried in a mass grave, such as ritual was even more necessary. He then added in confidence to her, raising one eyebrow, "I am as most commanders in regard to such rituals," revealing he was as her, for leaders often believed such superstitions were more important for the comfort and morale of those yet living, rather than actually having an effect on the spirits of those dead.

Vez nodded in understanding before adding, "If I recall, a divinator is needed to perform such rites," having heard of the ritual.

"There is one of proper ancestry who could perform them," he replied.

Vez internally acknowledged that the man he referred to was Remi, for his divination ancestry was an important factor in the resistance sending him to Khand; his name substantiated his connection to the region and he could enter the ranks of the Variags with a title of importance, possibly giving his access to valuable information. Vez then questioned whether the Haradrim had equal rituals of need, only to discover their moment to be performed had unfortunately passed. "...I will speak of its necessity to the Steward."

"Gratitude," he said proudly.

"Do not thank me until it is done," she said, before finishing her small cup of tea and placing the empty cup down in a fashion that alluded to the meeting's end and her departure. The Captain bowed his head down, showing deference to her as she stood up. Derufin also clumsily stood up behind her, finding his foot had fallen asleep below him.

The soldiers again stood straight in her honor as she walked through them, her eyes finding Yaban standing amongst them, his brow having been stitched of the gash her fist provided the day before. She walked over to him, curious of his current opinion on her. "Have you found your place, Officer Yaban?" she asked. He immediately bowed his head in deference, "Yes, General."

She turned towards her men, hoping to exchange words of confidence with them before leaving, "Break words with your Captain of any mistreatment at the hands of your captures, and know they will not go unanswered. But do not succumb to retaliation, for I would see all of you through those gates when the day comes..."

Vezely would go from a position of power to one of disrespect, being made to wait as Derufin counseled privately with Faramir on the nature of both conversations that took place, knowing not if his words were true to the events witnessed. He had also taken the list of names the Captain had given her, to inspect of any covert messages. Faramir would concede to the requests for these rites being performed, seeing no harm in oak and oil being burned, if farther afield from the main pathway into the city. Though he was less than pleased when hearing the divinator who would carry out the task was none other than the man who assaulted the guard and was being held in his own cell. Vezely was also less than pleased by this, assuming she would need to accompany Remi as he preformed the rites.

"...I want it done before guests arrive for the Coronation," he said, not desiring to draw the attention of outsiders to these concessions made to everyone's enemy.

Vez bowed her head appreciatively, as Faramir further explained the deed would not be done before Remi got his deserved punishment for assaulting the guard; he was to be sequestered from the others for at least another day.

While outwardly appearing in control of her emotions, internally Vez remained in a foul mood from the evening before. And returning to the guest villa feeling slightly fatigued and only desiring rest before the evening rolled around, made her acknowledge the possibility of snapping at any moment. If a house maid stopped her on her way to her room this time, she thought, she would not be so kind. But instead of a house maid diverting her path, she unexpectedly encountered Gandalf, whom she had not exchanged words with in some time. He beckoned her to come and sit with him in the nearby courtyard, to discuss matters that were undoubtedly of importance, for the wizard always had something important to say.

A/N: Hope this chapter gives you a few things to look forward to - more Remi and Lady Adele (oh awkwardness!). And I again took the liberty of inventing more Easterling culture, especially in relation to Vez and her past discretions - I answered the "purity" question and I think it made Legolas uncomfortable...poor guy.

And also wondering, I was not planning to have Thranduil at the Coronation (since he's got a realm to manage), but I read that possibly Celeborn was? If any Tolkienites know of Elf attendance, I would appreciate it! Or if you want Thrandy there, I can do that too. :D

Thank you again for all your comments - I love reading them. *hugs*