Chapter 49 - A Little Hope among the Ruins
[18th year of the Fourth Age; 20 years after Vezely left Minas Tirith...]
Thranduil's halls had grown evermore quiet over the passing years as the many that once dwelled there for protection either moved back into the surrounding forest or followed in the footsteps of their kin who left before them; sailing West to the Undying Lands. Now completely free from Shadow and the damage done by the great fire in the War of the Ring only a memory, Eryn Lasgalen's beauty had become unparalleled to what Legolas could recall in his long life. He would travel there on occasion to visit his father and his Woodland kin, finding the comforts of home soothing as time passed and his heart felt stretched.
"...I would offer you Dorwinion, but trade has been slow as of late," Thranduil apologized as he handed his son who just arrived that morning, a fluted crystal glass of white wine.
Legolas tilted his head at this comment, wondering, "Slow?"
Not expecting this reaction, Thranduil put his glass down instead of drinking, "Well, halted is the appropriate term. I thought you would know more on this matter than I."
"There is war in Rhun," Legolas stated seemingly unconcerned with a deep breath, "I know little else."
Thranduil stared at him for a moment, curious of his ongoing thoughts. "It has disrupted trade," he then stated forthrightly, "The men of Dale said there has been no shipment this season or last, while in the past years their shipments have dwindled at ever increasing percentages. Merchants speak of the breaking of the Easterlings into two halves."
"Two halves?" Legolas repeated pensively, his eyes inadvertently going to the silver ring on his finger as he internalized his own separation.
Thranduil followed his son's eyes, and sensed some fragile emotions, "You truly have heard nothing?" He ask carefully to confirm, honestly surprised for he thought he would have had more communication than just one single letter now ten years outdated.
Legolas's shifted uncomfortably and drank a third of his wine before answering, "And the years continue to pass," he stated slightly depressed, "I do not even know if she is yet of this world."
Tilting his chin up slightly, Thranduil queried, "You are growing doubts on her return?"
"In her return, and in my staying," though these words leapt from his mouth with some uncertainty. He looked upon his father, "When mother left these shores, she said she felt torn between wanting to stay with those she loves or to leave."
"The desire to sail to the Undying Lands is as an itch one can never scratch. It pained her to leave, but in time, it pained her more to stay. I encouraged her to go and I would encourage you to leave also," Thranduil paused allowing him to speak.
"I have promised," Legolas rejoined firmly, "I am not ready to abandon my friends."
"And your betrothed?" Thranduil cocked an eyebrow, wondering about the omission.
Legolas looked again at his ring, "She will return and sail with me. I still hold onto that hope."
"Of course you do," Thranduil spoke plainly, though he did not desire to question him and instead offered some hope of information. "Glorfindel recently departed for Rhun, sent by Cirdan to inform the Avari that soon the last ships will sail from the Grey Havens. He plans to offer escort from those war torn lands for those that might now be willing to leave. Perhaps when he returns he will provide you more information on the situation there..."
[4 years earlier... 14th year of the Fourth Age; 16 years after Vezely left Minas Tirith... ]
It was risky allowing Samsara to keep her child, and now, lying to personally escort her away to her small village to secretly have her baby only made Vezely more wary of her decision. Samsara did not desire to relinquish her position, but when she could no longer hide her bulging stomach under cloaks, it was necessary for her to leave. The Reunited Easterling Coalition had just retaken the city of Bakuhl on the northward borders of Lagathavuld and Agasha Dag. It was a decisive victory in the beginning of the Rhunic Civil War. They were deep in rebuilding their defenses when Vezely and Samsara left, putting Olani, who also knew of the child, in charge of operations.
Samsara's village was destroyed by the People of the Dark Lands' armies when they retreated from the battle of Erebor at the end of the War of the Ring. Those that survived rebuilt it and both Samsara believed it would be the best place for her to have her child.
Samsara's eyes wavered on the fire Vez tended before her as they rested during their journey, contemplating her predicament. "You never asked why," she said as if suddenly realizing it strange, "You never asked why Kor and I wanted this child." Vezely looked up at her, not expecting what she would say. Instead, Samsara shook her head at the thought of continuing, "You would not understand."
Vez diverted her eyes, debating whether to speak her offense to this assumption. "Then explain," she told her firmly, poking the fire viciously with a stick, causing sparks to fly up. "Why did you and Kor defy orders, and risk your life to bring a child into this war torn world?"
"We have only lived in a war torn world," Samsara replied defensively, "And we have survived in it longer than most. Neither of us have families. Can you blame us for wanting to make our own?"
Vez looked at her stoically, but turned her gaze back to the fire."No," but then she added sternly, "But as officers, you took an oath".
"See," she scoffed slightly, "What would an Elf know. You are immortal. Separation and loss are just words to you."
Vez closed her eyes feeling pained by this assertion, "They are not," she looked up at her wearily, "I know separation and loss. I have faced both and fear both still."
Samsara glared upon her disbelievingly, "If this is true, you do not show it. You act as if you care not."
"Am I not helping you?" Vez asked annoyed, glaring at her.
Samsara's mouth gaped open to argue, but she looked away, realizing she overstepped, "Forgive me."
"There is nothing to forgive," Vezely replied quickly, understanding Samsara was currently in a rough spot, and full of uncertainty since the child's birth was close at hand and she would be left alone to the challenge of motherhood. Vez kept her eyes on the sputtering fire, as light flecks of snow started to fall on top of it and them, "I am not upfront about my past. But I once experienced the love you spoke of having with Kor, and there is a possibility that I can never have it again. Elves are immortal, this is true, but we are also beholden to our actions during this time. And mine...well, mine are damning. I should not blame you for desiring a future that transcends the past, for I desire the same." Vez stood up and removed her fur lined cloak. Draping it around Samsara's shoulders, she left saying, "Dawn is in two hours. Get some rest."
At dusk, they rode through the mountain pass which was the quickest route to the small village. Both women halted their horses and gripped their swords' hilts, sensing they would soon come upon company. Twelve soldiers clad in the raiment of their enemy were camped there, huddling around two fires to keep warm from the cold. They scrambled to their feet and formed a line of defense.
"Lose your way?" Vez asked them smugly, "Shouldn't you be retreating east with the rest of the traitors?"
"We are right where we are supposed to be General Vezely," the leader of their group pulled his scimitar from his scabbard.
"You know my name, now tell me who sent you," Vez asked, tilting her chin up slightly.
He flicked his sword into his other hand gracefully; two against twelve odds were certainly in his favor and it being the enemy's general, he felt rather smug, "And why would we tell you that?"
Vez smirked, pulling her own sword, "So I can send them my regards for your deaths."
"Attack!" the man yelled to his men, sending them charging in front of him. Samsara drew her weapon, and Vez prompted Léofara to rear up and hoof the first warrior in the chest; she charged the horse forward and sliced two men down before jumping from the saddle to engage them on the ground, desiring to draw them away from Samsara.
Samsara held her own on the saddle as Vez sliced them down quickly, throwing one of her sai into the back of one charging her friend before fighting their leader. She cut off his sword hand, sending down to his knees in shock.
She poked her sword's tip under his chin and tipped it up to engage his eyes, "Who sent you?"
He held his bleeding wrist, trying to uphold his strength, "Just kill me, white fiend."
"General!" Samsara cried, her horse shuffling under her, "There are more coming!"
Vez didn't hesitate to cut the man's head off before jumping back on her horse, and the two women turned around and raced back from where they entered, riding hard into a nearby forest and stopping when they were sure they were off anyone's trail.
Vez turned her horse towards Samsara, "Who did you tell? Who else knew about this plan of yours?" she yelled at her angrily, believing the previous encounter was a trap.
"No one other than Kor and Olani knew," Samsara replied out of breath, her eyes searching, "Wait," she halted her words and her gaze, her mind taking her back, "Remi. He overheard us."
"Remi?" the man's name dripped like poison from Vez's lips. Remi had become lieutenant general of Agasha Dag's armies when they switched sides; taking the place and power of Kor.
"He overheard Kor and I speaking at the beginning of my pregnancy. I said I could have my child in my village. He must have sent the soldiers here, knowing it was time," Samsara spoke warily.
"Killing the captain of the enemy's army would gain him some more respect," Vez gritted her teeth, wishing now more than ever she killed the man in the past.
"General," suddenly Samsara keeled over on her saddle, "The baby. It's coming."
"Now?" Vez replied shocked, jerking back on her horse's reins.
"Now!" Samsara yelled at her, hunching forward farther, prompting Vez to leap from her horse to assist her down.
"...It's a girl," Vez told her while handing the screaming child into her arms.
"Cyane," Samsara declared happily the name she decided on with Kor, taking her daughter and holding her close in an embrace as joyful tears clouded her eyes, "Her name is Cyane."
Cyane was the word for "hope" in Easterling. Observing the love between mother and child, Vezely found herself curious of the bond formed between them, and her thoughts shifted back uncomfortably to her own mother whom she had not thought of in some time. Moving to her feet, she told her quietly, "I'll get a fire going," though Samsara was not listening as she was taken by her child.
Vez would lead Samsara and the baby to a secluded village in the mountains west of there. Vezely stayed there once, long ago when she returned from the deserts of Rhun, when she was yet under the care of the Blue Wizards. Once it was a safe house for resistance members, and today it remained a place for weary travelers desiring to get lost or start over. It was plan B, and one that Vezely told no one about. Samsara would raise her child quietly, regrouping with Vezely on occasion to assist in sieges, while leaving her child with extremely well-paid caretakers and tutors. Samsara would not stop fighting for Rhun's peace, for the sake of her daughter's future.
[22nd year of the Fourth Age; 24 years after Vezely left Minas Tirith... ]
For eight years the lands surrounding the Sea of Rhun were ravaged by warfare. Half of Agasha Dag had been claimed by the Reunited Easterling Coalition, and they had their eyes set on continuing their invasion eastward. The towns that were to be resettled, however, had changed drastically in the past years. The People of the Dark Lands not only spread their power into Agasha Dag, but their religion, and the defeated remained faithful to Melkor. In such times, these dark cults offered the masses hope amidst the ruin. If religion is the opium of the masses, the People of the Dark Lands also had extra opiates to accompany it. The black market for the drug had become unruly, causing headaches for those in charge. Yet there was little they could do to stop it.
"Ironic that as our trade fails, our enemy's trade thrives," Samsara stated annoyed to Vezely after a meeting of leaders during which they discussed the army's finances.
"They now desire that I decrease rations," she replied scathingly, "The only reason they still have their lands is because of our men, and now they want to starve them." Funding to keep their armies going eastward to destroy the Dark Lands was more difficult to procure than for their enemy. Rather than keep her blood boiling and having noted some awkwardness from Samsara since she returned from her off time with her daughter, Vez changed the subject, "There is something you have wanted to ask me all week. What is it?"
Samsara straightened her posture, "It pertains to my daughter. She is now eight, almost old enough to begin an apprenticeship with the militia."
"Almost," Vez replied pacing away from her towards the maps table, "And you desire for her to be closer to this war?"
Samsara followed her moving form, saying carefully, "We are winning, General. She would not be in the war, just, as your squire I could at least have her close and forgo my long trips."
Vez smiled slightly at the care Samsara put into her plea; at least she was upfront about it having to be Vezely's decision to allow her daughter these privileges. "When she is ten, I promise to make her my squire. Eight is too young still."
Samsara bit her tongue, knowing this was more than she could have hoped.
[Two years later... 24th year of the Fourth Age; 26 years after Vezely left Minas Tirith... ]
"...I've never seen a horse like this," the tall, black haired youth spoke in awe as she brushed Léofara, having just started her job as the general's squire.
"She is from the West," Vezely told her, watching her motions closely.
"And that is where you're from?" Cyane asked unabashedly, carefully continuing her chore.
"That I am," Vez replied, now looking curiously upon the precocious child's face seeing there characteristics of both Kor and Samsara.
"I know you're an Elf," she told her, speaking brightly, "You just hide your ears, but I can tell."
"Oh, you can?" Vez smirked slightly, noting the child had inherited her father's brazenness.
She nodded. "You are too tall and too pale to be an Easterling," she declared astutely, "It makes sense that you have a horse from the West."
"But I'm afraid Léofara is getting too old to be my battle horse anymore," Vez told her calmly, walking around the horse to stand aside the youth.
Cyane looked at the horse sorrowful, suspecting she might be put down, "But she is still a good horse," she tried to sound optimistic.
"That she is, the very best horse," Vez replied stroking the bridge of Léofara's nose while looking upon her worried face, "That is why she will be your horse."
"My horse?" the child repeated, staring at her wide eyed. "My own horse?"
"You will need to take care of her along with my other horse. Can you handle being tasked with both?" she glared at her skeptically.
Cyane nodded several times, her voice stalled being in awe of the gift, "Yes, of course I can," she managed to say.
Vez then patted her beloved horse and spoke to her in Elvish, "You are retiring from war old friend, but your role is no less important."
"She understands you?" Cyane asked in wonder, having watched the interaction curiously.
"She does," Vez replied smiling slightly.
"Then how will I talk to her?" she asked concerned.
"You can talk to her as we are talking now," Vezely replied, finding the question odd.
"You should teach me this language," Cyane requested her assuredly, "So I can talk to her like you do."
"Cyane!" Samsara had been minding the conversation out of sight, but felt her daughter was being rude and stepped in. "Apologies, General. She has her father's impudence."
Vez smiled slightly, "And that is something I appreciated about Kor," she then told Cyane carefully, "I will teach you this language Cyane, but being my squire comes first..."
After leaving the youth in the stables, Samsara asked Vezely worried, "You do not need to give her your prize horse."
Trying to play off the kind deed and the pleasant feeling that giving such a gift to the child provided her, Vez replied nonchalantly, "No, I do not. Nor do I want my horse to go riderless."
Vezely marched down a line of prisoners of war, bound together in a chain gang and soon to be sent to the mines. They had just easily overtaken another city in Agasha Dag, pushing their way ever further eastward towards the People of the Dark Lands.
"General," Olani rushed up to her side, and after greeting her properly, "There is something you must see."
Captain Olani led Vezely to the city's healing houses, but instead of finding wounded warriors, it was filled with the sick. Their faces and shirt collars were stained in coughed up blood, their eyes yellowed, their breath faltering.
"What is wrong with them?" her eyes slowly scanned the filled beds throughout.
"We do not know," Olani replied concerned, "But there's more." She then led the general to a back room where there were several more bodies, but all deceased and apparently from the same causes inflicting those they just passed though.
Plague. The terrifying word crossed everyone's mind, for Rhun was no stranger to mass outbreaks. Vezely could see the fear in her warrior's eyes; they had entered a village infested with a disease their people couldn't cure and they did not know if they could either.
"Burn it," Vezely then commanded them, "Burn all of it."
"And those alive?" Olani asked, assuming extra orders.
"They won't be for long," she told them before leaving the death rooms.
[Two years later... 26th year of the Fourth Age; 28 years after Vezely left Minas Tirith... ]
The Great Plague disrupted the Rhunic Civil Wars. It radiated out from the Sea of Rhun into villages and homesteads, and inevitably through the militia. One year had passed and one-third of the Reunited Easterling Coalition had fallen to the sickness, weakening their hold in Agasha Dag and providing the People of the Dark Lands ample leeway to restart their invasion West.
The leaders of the Reunited Easterling Coalition issued a temporary cessation in the war, of which the leaders of Agasha Dag quickly agreed, for they were hit just as hard by the disease. Encouraged by Agasha Dag, the People of the Dark Lands also signed the cessation, but being further from the plague's grip, their militia numbers stayed strong and they used the cessation as a means to practice a different strategy. Instead of targeting the most fertile lands and rich cities closer to the Sea of Rhun, they circled far around it and began destroying outlying towns and villages.
As soon as the plague began to spread, Samsara sent Cyane back to the village where she was raised in hopes that the disease would not reach her there, but now the fear turned to their enemy getting there first.
"...General, those mountains," Samsara started worriedly; her eyes appeared tired and she did not look well.
"They are where Cyane is," Vez finished her comrade's sentence equally concerned; both had just been given this new information on the Dark Lands' assaults. "I know what you would ask Samsara, but I cannot simply uproot our forces and risk our hold on our main assets to protect a few small villages up north."
Samsara gritted her teeth, "Then I will go and get my daughter out before it's too late," she pivoted to leave.
"Wait," Vez called determined to not let her go alone, causing Samsara to stop. "We will take the cavalry and together get your daughter out..."
They rode north, keeping well ahead and out of sight of the Dark Lands' armies. And while the mission was Cyane, Vezely hoped to save the whole village from destruction. "Your village will soon be under attack," she told the townsfolk after entering, "You have one hour to gather your belongings and you will leave by our escort to the main post..."
Not all the villagers desired to leave their homes, however; many believed that by going closer to the Sea of Rhun they would only find death by disease and they rather pander to the enemy. About half hurriedly gathered their supplies and prepared to flee.
A day into their slow journey and Vezely's scouts returned with a small gift in tow - two men clad in the raiment of the Dark Lands' militia, both gagged and hooded, their hands bound, and legs tethered to their horses.
"...We captured them north of the great river," the scout told her, "They are covering a wider range than expected. I do not believe our trail has gone unnoticed by others in their company..."
There was little time to spare. Vezely glanced south, realizing they were not far away from Ester Ridge, where her armies under Sauron decimated an entire village, women and children, of its inhabitants. Just beyond there was the edge of the deep forests of Dorwinion, a place she would not dare to enter in the past. Suddenly, as if a breeze came up from below, Lord Glorfindel's parting words at Minas Tirith passed through her mind, "If you find yourself in need near territories you would not before enter, there you would find aid and comfort."
Samsara immediately questioned the decision to go into Dorwinion uncomfortably, "General, that is yet Elf territory. They suffer no one to pass."
"We have no choice, we will not be able to outrun our enemies, nor can we engage them in open combat," Vez kicked her horse forward further showing her decision stood, "Bring the prisoners," she turned her head to her two scouts who held the reins of the horses which held the hooded figures, "We will question them soon."
The shadows of the forests cooled the weary travelers who were feeling fatigued from the noonday sun. Slowly they crept ever farther into the dense wood, trekking over several streams and glens. The villagers whispered their fears as they walked, for legends spoke of those that entered were never to be seen again. Elves were mistrusted in Rhun, some believing them sorcerers, others demons. They had lived secluded in forest enclaves and kept their borders well guarded, and thus their interactions with men were extremely rare allowing such myths to grow.
Vez noted the soft footfalls before others became aware that their company was being watched. The sounds of bowstrings being pulled back caused the cavalry to unsheathe their swords, expecting an attack.
"Hold!" Vezely called out to them, holding her sword hand up and galloping her horse slightly forward, "Keep your weapons sheathed!" She then switched her tongue to Elvish, calling out to those hidden in shadow, "We humbly ask your pardon for trespassing on your lands! We are seeking respite from pursuit of our enemies!"
One whose garb appeared as if he was a captain of their guard descended from a thicket of trees in front of them, protected by several archers who had their arrows poised on their bowstrings awaiting orders.
"Respite from one enemy and into the grasp of another," the green clad Elf replied narrowing his eyes on her, "Since when does an Easterling speak our tongue and come seeking peace and not war."
Vezely untied the black headband she always wore around her ears, revealing her race and speaking her title, "My name is Vezely. I am General of the Reunited Easterling Coalition and an Elf of the Woodland Realm."
The Elf did not lighten his glare as he gave her tidings, "Vezely, we have been expecting you."