Chapter 44 - The Coronation
Year: T.A. 2942 (77 years prior)
Location: the deserts of Rhun
Death is easier, she thought darkly, parting her cracked lips to breathe in more deeply the dry air as she swiped the palms of her hands over the hot sand; caring not for the discomfort of a few jagged rocks cutting into her backside as she lay underneath the sun's burning rays. Days without food and water, she collapsed on route to nowhere; desiring the solitude and silence of Rhun's largest desert to reorder her thoughts as the memories of her life, repressed during her time imprisoned in Dol Guldur, found their way back to her mind. The promise of the Dark Lord and her position as the general of the Easterling legions to lead the destruction of the people of the West, were never to be realized. Indeed, she had fallen. Betrayed by her second in command, beaten, raped, imprisoned, and forgotten by the one she swore allegiance to.
"Leave if you must," the Blue Wizard Romestano told her before setting out, "Sort out your mind. But remember, you are being offered a second chance; a means to rectify your wrongs. You are an Elf, condemn yourself not to an eternity in bonds for you will find the Halls of Mandos no less pleasant than the prisons of Dol Guldur..."
The heat suddenly felt like a weight on her chest, making it hard to breathe. She turned her head to the West and her sight could discern clearly the waves radiating off the hot sands making her feel like she was hallucinating. A second chance, the concept felt absurd coming from the mouths of her former enemies. Yet if it was being offered by Sauron, to rejoin his cause, would she accept it? The thought ran through her mind but was quickly answered with anger at his betrayal; for stripping her of power and position. Revenge. She could seek it with this second chance. Revenge. It was what she desired. She closed her eyes, for their dryness began to sting and her breathing faltered; the pounding in her head grew stronger and she desired to press her hands to her forehead but they felt stuck on the sands beside her. It is too late, she thought with a newly found regret as death seemed imminent.
Opening her eyes again, she saw in the distance a vision; an oasis not there before, and along with it strength returned to her body. She knew not if she was being deceived, but the lure was strong and she moved to her feet, dragging them westward towards what appeared as a pond set amidst the desert sands. She fell at its edge, believing it would disappear as soon as her hand fell into its crystal depths. But it did not and its waters were cool and clean and they soothed her throat and filled her stomach, giving her life again. Condemned to live, she thought uncomfortably after having her fill, gazing down into the reflective pool beneath her. The ripples settled and her reflection stared back at her. She unwound her headscarf and untied her yet damaged and uneven hair. It was only starting to grow back in the places where she had gone bald due to malnutrition during her captivity. Since her release she had not cared for it or herself; living as one already deprived of life. She then took her dagger from her belt and taking it strand by strand, she sliced it off near the roots. Running her fingers over her scalp, she felt as if one reminder of her captivity was gone; though the scars on her wrists, honed into her skin by her iron cuffs, remained. She would fill her flask with water and return the way she came; to the outskirts of that desert where the Blue Wizards held their residence.
"The prodigal Elf returns," Romestano mused when he saw the worn and weary traveler on his front step, "And with a new look," noting her hair, or lack thereof.
"And a new purpose," she replied assuredly with narrowed eyes, feeling indifferent to their desired cause for her to aid in their resistance. Instead, her own burned secretly within her. Revenge.
Vezely had never told anyone this story of what prompted her return from Rhun's deserts, or that she would not have returned. At least not until now, when explaining to Legolas the truth behind why she no longer wore her hair shoulder length, as was more common for Easterling women.
It was not yet dawn and her head was resting on his chest as he stroked back her short hair, listening troubled to the details of her closeness to death, and perplexed by the fruits of the vision she saw that lifted her back to life.
"Did you not take it as a sign?" he asked carefully.
She lifted her chin and looked up at him confused, "A sign?" she attempted to hold in her laugh, "I do not think like that," though at that moment Vezely revisited Lady Galadriel's warning: Do not forsake them, for they have not forsaken you.
Legolas knew Vezely held sparse and undoubtedly twisted knowledge of the Valar, but he could not help but suspect that in that moment one, most likely Ulmo, the lord of the waters, who often meddled in the affairs of Elves, may have helped her on this path. But he did not want to spark her ill refute, and instead acknowledged, "Regardless, I am grateful you returned."
"As am I," she grinned, propping herself up on an elbow beside him, "And at least I am no longer bald." He then ran his fingers through her hair again, glad to see her exuding cheer despite the gravity of the experience she described.
"It would not matter if you were," he told her endearingly, observing her brightness, "I would look upon you the same."
Part of her desired to slide past this statement by teasing him; feigning that she should cut her hair shorter just to see what reaction it elicited. It was a strange impulse and perhaps, she thought, it was because she always felt incapable of responding appropriately to statements of kindness that touched her deeply. With her eyes and fingers tracing the contours of his robe's bronze leaf-shaped clasp, she started meekly, "Sometimes I cannot believe..." she paused and began blinking, for suddenly some moisture found its way to her eyes; her hesitancy caused his gaze to turn into one of concern, and he lifted her chin up and prompted her now dry eyes to his. With a timid smile, she continued, "I cannot believe you can love me so." He shook his head and was about to condemn her disbelief, but she spoke before he could, "When we first met, I had long been on a path of destruction. Feeling condemned to what I saw as a wretched existence. There was nothing beyond the revenge I sought. I didn't need a second chance, a possibility at redemption, for I saw nothing worth being redeemed for. Then meeting you..." she smirked slightly thinking nostalgically, "Somehow, and I don't know how, you undermined my path. You made me question it and myself; question who I could be, regardless of my past. And though I faltered in believing it possible, you always reassured me and gave me hope for that future. That you have also given me your love, it seems impossible."
"It should not," he began to explain softly, engaging her with his eyes, "I was only fortunate that you chose to open up to me and share that side that you often hide to others," she diverted her eyes becoming embarrassed, but he guided her face back to his and then trailed his fingers to her heart, "Once I saw that your heart was truly good, it was easy to fall in love with you."
They exchanged a warm smile, and Vez considered, "Still, you are truly rare," smiling slightly, "To have fallen in love with one so estranged to your culture."
"Perhaps," he told her, unabashedly trailing his fingers to her silk robe's collar and slipping it off her shoulder, revealing her bare skin and a few of the inked characters set on it. She closed her eyes and parted her lips as he traced the lines of them. "But I happen to like your uncouthness," he added, enjoying the pleasure his touch was giving her.
She grinned in remembrance of him calling her so before, but soon found his lips upon hers and his arms pulling her on top of him. Momentarily parting her mouth from his, she told him amused, "And here I use to think you were always proper." But he did not reply with words and instead kissed her again more passionately, each hoping that dawn did not arrive too soon.
For the sake of Western modesty, she threw her tunic coat over her silk robe and draped her formal gown over her arm before heading to the baths to freshen up for the coronation. She had no task or specified place of eminence at the event, so she was not in a hurry to dress or meet with the others who would be going over their places and paces. Legolas desired she meet him at the very least five minutes prior the time the Elves were set to depart the gathering hall for the upper level, which was set aside for them to assemble and wait comfortably in.
After washing, she decided to pin her fringe back off her forehead, twisting it around the sides as to give the appearance that the rest of her hair would have been in a low bun at the back, though in reality the back was where it was the shortest. The day was already warm and the dress's delicate material luckily felt fluid and light against her skin, and she noted while looking herself over in a full length mirror that she showed quite a bit more skin than usual. Without a scarf, which she rarely went without, and with the v-neck and even deeper v-cut in the back, it lengthened her neck and she thought she appeared taller. The dark plum color accented her pale skin tone, dark hair color, and bluish-green eyes, and she shook her head mildly peeved that Legolas had picked it out saying forthrightly it would do so.
She spent a moment running her fingers over her wrists, which the gown's three-quarter length sleeves freely displayed; catching her in remembrance of the scars they once bore. Their disappearance and her returned ear tip caused a small smile of gratitude to grace her face. She had not thought about either in some time, nor how her physical change coincided with everything else that had changed since coming West.
She had not realized the time had run close until back inside her room, causing her to throw her lounge robe and tunic coat on her bed hastily, slip on her flats, and race out of the door; finding the gown's length unnecessarily cumbersome for any overly hurried movement. She lifted the front up as she sped down the wing's main corridor; her hurriedness making her forget until she neared the meeting halls entrance the peculiarity of her being dressed as a lady, even if her raiment was of Rhunish origins. Strangely, she had felt less awkward posing as an Umbarian Dancing Girl in a scantily clad getup and performing riskily for a Corsair pirate than now looking the part of proper Elf maiden set to take the arm of an Elven prince.
She slipped in the big doors and felt visually assaulted by the beauty of the beings that graced the room. All the Elves wore long, rich gowns of off-whites, light silvers, periwinkle blues, and champagne golds; and their pale, flawless skin glowed with the light catching brocade on their gown's fabrics. Their shining, straight hair was loose and flowing; most had it partially pulled back and delicately braided. And a few, which later Vezely realized were those of higher eminence, wore silver or gold circlets upon their brows.
Before entering the doorway, she fixed her posture, lifted her chin slightly and pushed her shoulders back. She noted, desiring from that point not to focus on anything in particular, how the gown's long skirt swayed with her hips as she walked. As several Elves glanced at her as she passed, she became annoyed by her growing discomfort. She should be used to appearing as a black sheep among them by now, she thought. For the crowd, however, it was not hard to miss the darkest color gown among them and that it was being worn by one notorious Elf stirred their conversation. Thalion noted her presence first, and turned around his friend by a sharp tug of the arm.
And once Legolas's eyes fell upon her, he perceived again what many others in the room pondered for the first time; Vezely was indeed of the line of Luthien, for there was some beauty mingled with her strangeness. But while one such as Arwen walked softly and with a womanly grace, Vezely yet stepped with strength. She held the poise not of a High Elf maiden, but of a proud warrior which the dress could not hide.
She was relieved finding Legolas in the crowd; giving her a direction to go towards in the mass of glimmering forms. But as she observed his raiment, she almost halted her steps in awe and knew her lips gaped slightly. She had never seen him looking so regal or prince-like before. A simple silver circlet sat upon his brow, complementing rather than competing with the richness of his outer robe which was the palest of blues; its high collar further embellished by a silver butterfly necklace hung below it. His father stood aside him, clad in shining silver hues, and turning to see the direction of his son's gaze, he needed a double take. None had seen Vezely adorned in anything other than loose pants, long tunics, and neck covering scarves. Yet if anyone's eyes did linger they would note something more unusual than the dark color and exotic origin of her fancy gown, and perhaps a little unsettling. Vezely was unabashedly displaying the tattoos on her back and on her forearms, the likes of which no other Elves had. They were as fresh black ink on clean parchment, standing out against the paleness of her skin.
Within a meter of Legolas and his father, she halted her steps, and after exchanging a brief smile with her betrothed, she curtsied and bowed her head down, "My lords," she uncharacteristically greeted them, though it was not in jest for she was trying to appear proper in front of the leaders of her parent's realm. Thranduil nodded his head slightly in approval, surprised she knew how to properly curtsy, while Legolas stepped forward and took her hand, bringing the back to his lips and gracing it with a kiss, "My lady," he replied, noticeably elated to call her so publically, and afterwards offering her an arm to stand by his side. He whispered in her ear before walking back towards his father, saying smugly, "I was right about the color." She smirked, having predicted he'd find a moment to tell her that, but she had to forgo a reply, now being too close to Thranduil and the other ambassadors for her words to go unheard.
"I thought I would be too late to see you all off," she told him slightly relieved. She assumed she would not be attending by his side or alongside the other Elves for that matter, seeing as how Legolas held a position of honor to be the one to greet Aragorn on behalf of all Elvendom after he was crowned. However, it was never Aragorn's intention for Vez to lack a place of respect at the coronation. He thought she should stand alongside the other Elvish ambassadors and asked Legolas to verify if this was deemed alright with his kin.
"Actually..." Legolas stalled, noticeably uncertain how to tell her the arrangement he made just prior.
"You will attend aside me," Thranduil interrupted his son, as he stood on the other side of them and was listening.
Vez was shocked by the offer, and her eyes glanced back to Legolas before returning to the king hastily, "You do not need to allot me that honor."
Hoping to bypass his father's possible retort and explain further, Legolas interrupted, "Lord Aragorn desired to give you a place in the coronation and wondered if you would stand alongside us. Father suggested a place next to him in the front row." Vez's eye widened in disbelief.
"Are you not my son's betrothed?"Thranduil asked sternly, narrowing his eyes on her; he would be annoyed if she did not deem this an honor. He then added, his eyes observing her gown, "And Legolas assured me you would dress appropriately and you are...to a certain extent."
Vez held her laugh behind her smirk. Legolas then complimented her after giving his father a chiding look for the remark, "You look stunning."
Vez shook her head and smiled, "The dress is stunning. I pale in comparison to the fair folk of this room;" then she thanked Thranduil with a kind smile, "And I am honored my lord, truly."
He was pleased by her humility and her lightened mood, and bowed his head courteously to her.
The top level of the White City was filled to the brim with colorful banners and mirthful Gondorians dressed in their finest garments; forming a sea of grey, purple, and violet hues. The ambassadors would slowly parade to their places down the central aisle, the first several meters of which was lined with Gondorian guards fully dressed in overly polished armor, holding tall spears and broad black shields marked by the symbol of the white tree. There was a lot of pomp to the ceremony and rightly so, for such a transition for Gondor and for the people of Middle Earth afforded it. The Elves would stand farthest down the aisle from the central steps upon which Aragorn would be crowned. They would be the last to parade down the causeway to their standing position, which was aside the central fountain.
Legolas would enter first with Lord Elrond and the Lady Arwen, as well as other head ambassadors chosen to later come forward and greet Aragorn along the aisle. Arwen held a banner heralding the white tree of Aragorn's house, while other Elves in the group held banners for the three respective realms. The rest of the Elven kindred would then fill the eastern side of the aisle, with the leaders in the front row.
Vezely would walk aside Thranduil, while in front of them was the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, both clad in white gowns dappled with brocades of silver thread. When filing in line, Vezely greeted the lords of Lothlorien with a polite bow of her head. Galadriel smiled upon her pleasant appearance, chiming, "Your youth radiates, making one almost forget our kin's weariness."
Vez was confused as to whether to feel complimented, though it filtered into what she began to understand about the fading of the Elves. Aragorn's crowning spoke further to it; he was ushering in the age of men, and the Elves would continue to leave these shores and fade from its relevance and perhaps even its remembrance. The Long Defeat; the Elves called their never ending fight with Morgoth and his servants. Now with the battle won, even those who long endured, were spent and ready to go across the sea to rejoin their kin or to stay, but to remain isolated from the world. She wondered if Thranduil would also sail West, to follow his son and rejoin his wife; or would he stay and watch over the Woodland clans, many of whom may never heed the call. There were many things she didn't fully know or understand, and regrettably she would not have the chance to before she left.
Behind her stood Lord Glorfindel, clad in a pale champagne robe overlaid with a subtle flower brocade of gold threads; symbolically paying tribute to his house. She engaged his eyes briefly before tilting her head in greeting, "My lord."
The golden-haired Elf was in a joyous mood, as everyone else was for the celebration. He offered her a pleasant smile while tilting his head down, acknowledging curious, "The text upon you speaks of courage and strength," and looking upon her forearms reading the runes on the right, "Of the 'sun's power,'" and turning his eyes to her left wrist, "And of 'the conqueror of nations'?"
"You read Easterling script?" she asked taken back by his unusual ability; for no Elf she had yet met West of Rhovanion could.
"I have studied some in preparation of possibly going East," he told her calmly; for Lord Elrond's library in Imladris was vast enough to hold some books on Rhunic languages, even though they were deemed of little import.
"Impressive, to be so diligent," she remarked raising an eyebrow, also finding it somewhat strange. But for Glorfindel this diligence was not impressive since he took the mission appointed to him by the Valar to be of upmost importance, deeming even precautionary study necessary. "And it is 'destroyer,'" Vez added assuredly before turning back around, holding her arm out and tracing the character's lines, "The rune for 'conqueror' lacks this stroke." She enjoyed getting a chance to correct the Elf Lord, who all thought infallible.
He tilted his chin up slightly, asking undeterred, "And their meaning?"
Vez smirked, "We all earn titles of remembrance, do we not? And the sun is part of my name as well as a symbol of the people who raised me." Below the rune for sun, and closer to her wrist, was an outline of a stylized sun, the same as the one found on the gold ring she wore on her right hand.
"The sun is also a symbol of my house," he informed her intrigued by the connection, "The House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin."
"It is a strong symbol," she praised, "Though I doubt your kindred did more than wear it on their shields and banners," knowing tattoos would never find their way onto Elvish bodies.
"Indeed not, for Elves see such markings as a desecration of the sanctity of our bodies," he informed her lightly; his tone not implying he was making a critique.
"Yes, I have heard quite a lot about Elven purity," she rejoined in similar tone, "And how far outside of it I exist. Yet, I refuse to see my upbringing by the Balchoth as simply one of corruption. For then I would need to look upon all of Rhun's inhabitants as such, which I will not do."
Glorfindel consider her words and re-pondered the implications of his own, though he would not have a chance to respond as they would begin the walk down the corridor
She had seen the Gondorians reaction to seeing Elves before, when she happened upon the first arrival of the Elves of Lothlorien in the lower levels of Minas Tirith. An awestruck silence radiated through the crowd as they slowly stepped down the aisle, and Vezely noticeably had to adjust her way of walking to flow well with the others. She engaged both Eomer and Eowyn along the way with a small nod and pleasant smile, acknowledging proudly her battle companions, and they equally looked upon her as friend rather than foe of their land. She blissfully ignored Faramir; though he stood next to Eowyn, who she held most dear.
During the ceremony she felt surreal standing between Thranduil and Glorfindel, great lords of Elves. She also watched in disbelief as Aragorn was crowned, for knowing how uncertain this reality was not yet a month ago. And she felt immense pride, perhaps as much as Thranduil next to her, as Legolas greeted the king on behalf of their fading race; clasping his shoulder in a sign of strong friendship. Legolas then exchanged a knowing look, turning Aragorn's gaze behind him to where Lord Elrond stood. Upon the Elf Lord's wise face was a mixture of sadness and joy as Arwen stepped forward with the banner yet shielding her from view. During this time, Legolas would return to the side of his father and thus to Vezely, taking her hand in his own as he joyfully watched his friend's heart swell anew with the return of Arwen to his arms. He would then squeeze Vezely's hand a little tighter, for in his mind the scene made him wistful about how they might also embrace when she returned to him from Rhun.
At last, in the respect allotted for them, all of Minas Tirith bowed before the four hobbits; knowing that without them there would be no celebration.
The day-long party started soon after. From the top steeple to the lowest level, all of Minas Tirith was celebrating. Great feasts had been prepared; mead ran freely, music played loudly, songs sung merrily, and dancing started spontaneously among the crowd. The ambassadors would celebrate together in the great hall, alongside the king, his lady, and their large court. It was the most joyous Vezely had ever seen a group of people in her life, and she found herself mirthful simply by feeding off others energy.
The day offered her an opportunity to speak perhaps for the last time with all she had met during her stay in the West: Eowyn and Eomer, the hobbits, Gimli, Gandalf... It has been some time since the old wizard spoke with her.
"...I do not have any doubt that we will meet again young Elf," he told her endearingly, after Vezely wished him a pleasant voyage away from these lands. "And then you will be required to tell me all about your adventure..."
Gandalf had made her future task in Rhun sound like a marvelous journey. Of course he would be one to call any perils or hardships one must travel through an adventure, she thought, foregoing a specific response.
After a gracious meal, merry music started and many from Aragorn's court and several ambassadors began dancing to the tunes.
At one point, Legolas asked Vez uncertain, "If I were to ask you to dance, what would be your reply?"
Vez smirked, knowing his hesitancy for she did not appear the dancing type. Wanting to gauge his keenness, she asked slyly, "Do you desire to dance with me?"
"It has crossed my mind," he told her truthfully, a pleasant smile stretched across his face while observing her demeanor.
Vez's eyes shifted past him to those dancing before her, as she wondered her stance on this. The thought of it made her uncomfortable; for it would seem an unlikely act for someone who preferred to appear impassive to the events surrounding her.
"Perhaps you do not know how to dance," Legolas added smugly raising an eyebrow; attempting to goad her into either accepting or admitting her incompetence. He hoped by narrowing her options, he'd prod her into making the choice in his favor.
"I can dance just fine," Vez defended herself hastily; for even if she hardly remembered the last time she did, it was not a skill she deemed too difficult to mimic.
Legolas predicted this reflex, and held his hand out with a wide grin, "Well then."
She narrowed her eyes, giving him the look of death before accepting his hand and being pulled onto the dance floor, after which she would find herself stepping along and her dress swaying with the others as she was turned about by Legolas. At several intervals she would let out a laugh, amused by the absurdity of her odd willingness to move as such. The next song's tune slowed down and prodded the dancers into couplings. Legolas placed his hands on her hips and she held hers on his shoulders before being brought closer and clasping them around his neck. They grinned at each other and Vez laughed again, shaking her head slightly as she did. To Legolas, she had not appeared this mirthful and carefree since their second time in Ithilien, when she dove scantily clad into the lake and goaded him to follow her. He now considered himself even for taking her out of her comfort zone, as she did to him during that moment. They then touched the sides of their faces together, saying nothing as they swayed to the music...