Chapter 59 - To Tirion
The smooth repeating sound of stone scrapping against cold steel, this was a warrior's form of meditation. There was no practical reason for Vezely to sharpen her sword. In Valinor there were no battles to be fought, no enemies to dispense of, and, she hoped, no need to defend herself. But that did not stop her from partaking in the familiar ritual after finding a whetstone in the vault where Dior kept his large weapon collection.
That evening Eluréd would find his daughter sitting cross-legged on the stone ledge of the upper terrace which overlooked the cliff face to the ocean below. He hesitated when first hearing the scrapping sounds competing against the waves crashing ashore, thinking he might be disturbing or intruding on her personal space.
Vezely did hear the slight shuffle of footsteps on the stone walkway behind her. Rather than ignoring the visitor, and assuming it was more likely to be a family member than one of the house's helpers, she turned her head. "Good evening, father," she greeted him with a welcoming smile, though finding the use of the title 'father' still strange on her tongue.
"Good evening. I am not disturbing you, am I?" He politely asked, trying to hide his uncertainty.
"Not at all. Besides I could use some disturbing before I move out of your residence," she remarked lightly, though she solemnly realized that recently she had not spent nearly enough time with her father. The wedding preparations allocated most of her time with her mother and grandmother instead.
Eluréd awkwardly replicated her style of sitting. "These weeks have gone by fast," he noted after settling, a smile still calm upon his face, though his eyes were unable to ignore the sharp blade she held comfortably in her lap. For him the sword was the most tangible sign of her prior profession; a reminder of who she became and what she did after she was taken from his life.
"They have," she agreed solidly after noting the briefness of his gaze. Gathering that perhaps the sword made him uncomfortable, she quickly sheathed it in one swift stroke. "I have enjoyed living by the sea again," she looked upon the calm dark waters below as they glistened and reflected the light of the stars in the night sky above.
"You have lived near such waters before?" He inquired, grateful she evoked further conversation for he was unsure of a topic.
"Long ago I was stationed near the Sea of Rhun with my troops. It is not as grand as the wide ocean before us, but there is a similar calm to it at night when boats are at dock and the city around you sleeps." She smirked slightly as she reflected on the utter quiet she would often find herself enjoying, "An Elf among Men. I am still unused to evening company..."
Eluréd found his thoughts turn to a precious moment from her childhood, one which remained dear to his heart. "Do you remember the first night I took you beyond the forest, to the crest above Esgaroth?"
Long shelved away and forgotten, the memory of this mini adventure took a moment to return to her. That night was the farthest she had ever ventured from their small home in Northern Mirkwood and she did so in the security of her father's arm. He desired to show her the best view of the stars that edge of the forest could afford. She replied with a pleasant thought, "I do remember riding your back there, since my feet grew tired from all the walking."
"You were so tiny then..." he recalled the same, and sharing his reflection further, "Those were some of the happiest years of my life, with you and your mother. You were such a blessing to us and the simple life we lived...I never did," he paused after his voice cracked. Sentimentality overtook him and he looked aside ashamed as long held guilt resurfaced for not protecting her or her mother that night. He was not a warrior, or a lord as he is now in Valinor. In Mirkwood, he was a simple river elf who held no renown among his kin. He mustered the courage to confess, albeit quietly, "I never did forgive myself for not stopping what happened to you that day."
Vezely placed a hand on his and squeezed it. Eluréd looked down upon it rather than into her eyes, reconciling again that this was not the tiny, fragile hand of his young daughter long ago. She knew what day he spoke of; when their home was attacked by Orcs, he and her mother were slain, and she was taken back to Sauron. "There was nothing you or anyone else could have done," she consoled him carefully but firmly, "What happened that day and all the days after, happened. Do not blame yourself, for I do not."
He brought his gaze to hers. Her voice was unwavering, and so were her eyes. He knew she spoke the truth of her feelings on this subject and perhaps in time he would accept it. He then asked a nagging question that always haunted him."Tell me, were you treated kindly by those who raised you? Those who watched you come of age, before," he again paused, not desiring to put into words what she became in her adulthood.
"They treated me as their own and I wanted for nothing," she returned resolute, unhindered by his fears of discussing the darker realities of her past, "I had a normal childhood for an Easterling. Perhaps even privileged."
"Knowing this brings me comfort," he told her after processing it, clasping the hand she provided him with both of his.
"And remembering the time we spent together brings me comfort," she replied providing him a warm smile, "Those stars over Esgaroth, they had me spellbound..."
Legolas's mother stood in front of her son with maternal pride beaming from her face as she adjusted the gold clasp on the off white robe he was trying on for the approaching wedding. "He looks handsome, does he not?" she cheerfully asked her husband nearby.
Thranduil stood observing the long missed interactions between mother and son; of seeing his small family back together again and his son's happiness returned to where it once was. "Indeed, and incredibly appropriate for a wedding. The question is whether your bride will follow suit," Thranduil remarked dryly.
"I heard from Lady Rovian that her gown is being designed by the best seamstress in Alqualondë," his mother informed, "I am sure she will look more than appropriate." She gave her son an encouraging nod, knowing her husband could harp on unnecessary trifles. "And speaking of which, I should make myself appropriate to leave," she realized it was nearing time to depart and quickly left father and son alone.
The wedding was on all their minds that morning as the three of them would be spending the afternoon at the House of Dior as guests of Rovian and Eluréd - more familial pleasantries to partake in before the big day.
Legolas returned to the mirror to look upon himself one last time before removing what he and his mother deemed the right choice for his wedding attire. He knew the next time he wore it would be on his wedding day.
In observing his son, Thranduil nostalgically recalled his own robe fitting before his wedding. He married in his youth, as is customary for most Elves, and at a time of relative peace; something his son was only now experiencing again. "You appear yourself once more," he broke the silence with his dogged opinion, "You are no longer in mourning." Legolas shifted his attention to the reflected image of his father in the mirror, who had walked aside him and placed a hand firmly on his shoulder. "I am glad it is so. Too long you have been in shadow, lingering in the pit formed by those forever lost from this world. I feared you would not return."
"So did I," Legolas agreed firmly, "But hope of a new future has returned to me."
"Valinor is so named a place of healing for a reason," Thranduil returned stoically, inspecting his son's robes as his mother did before.
"It is not the place," he turned to him, saying with confidence, "My hope resides with the one I am soon to marry."
Thranduil lifted his chin, "I recall you once being adamant about not marrying."
Legolas recalled the same, but found himself amused by it, "That I was. Strange how ones view on partnership can change when you find the right person. And she is right for me father, even if you think otherwise."
"I do not think otherwise," he corrected him sternly, for it was not Thranduil's place to deny his son's choice in marriage. "I desire only happiness for you. But I also know her penchant for causing disruptions..."
The couple held hands while strolling through the chateau's extensive rose gardens. The heat of the afternoon sun made the fragrance of the flowers thick in the air about them.
They had left their respective parents in conversation in one of the gazebos. Vezely peered back at them, finding an odd concern about the conversations they would hold, "Do you think they get along alright?"
"I do not see how they could not," Legolas reasoned back, "Your parents are surprisingly normal."
"Thanks," Vezely shot him a narrowed glance, knowing he saw and took the opportunity to imply her abnormality.
He chuckled, turning towards her and taking her other hand, "It is true though," adding sincerely, "And I am glad you appear on good terms with your parents and that they support you."
"I am grateful as well, though at times I think they wonder what their child could have been if she was not corrupted by heathens," she spoke dryly and cocked an eyebrow.
Whether or not her self-deprecation was for amusement, it was a thought Legolas did not immediately know how to respond to. For the differences her culture instilled in her, even now he could not imagine her personality without them. Although he could not deny that he wished her life had not been rerouted as it was; that she did not have to suffer through all she did.
"At least," Vezely did not notice his introspection and continued amused as they continued their walk, "I have found support from my grandfather. He quite likes what he refers to as my Mannish tendencies..."
Their stroll took them to the pearl strewn beaches below the chateau. They went barefoot onto the warm sands and Vezely inched ever closer to the crystal blue waters pulsing upon the shoreline, desiring to get her feet wet. The unrelenting afternoon sun was beating down on the tops of their heads, and their layers of garments, having both dressed proper for the formal meeting, were not helping.
"Have you ever swum in the ocean before?" Vezely asked out of the blue, the thought coming to her as the cool water felt pleasing in between her toes.
"Of course not," Legolas returned looking upon her curiously, his feet now just getting a taste of the water's offering.
She smirked, letting go of his hand as she moved towards the water, "Neither have I."
"Vezely!" He called after her, watching her toss the outer layer of her gown aside and run farther out into the pulsing waves. "You cannot just..." He watched her wade farther out, and when submerged up to her chest she turned around.
"The water is perfect!" She called to him, finding complete relief from the heat the sun had imparted on her."I do not know why I haven't done this yet!" She desired to swim out further, perhaps even to the small islands far off in the distance.
He stood there bemused. It was times like these that Vezely as an impetuous Elven youth showed, or perhaps it was her making up for the lack of carefree moments her past life afforded.
Vezely knew she could get him to follow her if she presented it as a challenge to be overcome. "You aren't afraid to follow me, are you prince?" She called to him mischievously, "I know you can swim! Unless the ocean is too large a pond for a forest dweller!"
Legolas knew her intent, and while he initially desired to be the mature Elf and to stay dry, he also found the cooling waters along with a chance to quell his partner's prodding tempting. Legolas removed his surcoat before slowly wading into the waters after her, hesitant with each step further soaking his pants.
Vezely did not make him chase her like she did in the pond in Ithilien. Instead she desired him to reach her. The waters were crystal clear that one could see down to the white sands underneath. She moved closer to where she could stand since Legolas was less inclined to get his hair wet.
"Was I wrong?" She asked as he finally made his way to her, "A perfect idea to cool off."
"And when we return to shore all wet?" He asked, giving her a look of feigned disapproval that covered his disbelief of what he just did.
"We can dry in the sun," she returned with a smug smile of accomplishment as he wrapped his hands around her waist, "And there are towels we can use, and robes we can change into if need be." She clasped her hands around his neck, enjoying the feeling of the waves gently moving through their embrace.
"Our parents will not be pleased," Legolas reminded her as he pulled her closer to him, though his eyes diverted to her lips as he longed to kiss them.
She bit her bottom lip, suddenly feeling like a misbehaving child; parental concern still a strange consideration in her life. "Am I in trouble?"
"Maybe," he inched his lips closer to hers and she met them, providing the kiss they both desired since being reunited earlier that morning. It was as if the ocean provided them the privacy needed to be intimate. They would linger in the ocean a little longer before slowly wandering back to shore; feeling refreshed despite looking disheveled.
Their parents had decided to move to the outer terraces to enjoy the sea breeze and the view, though they were not expecting to see their children frolicking on the sands below. Upon reaching dry sand, Vezely's skirt tangled underneath her feet causing her to tumble forward. Holding onto Legolas, she would pull him down on top of her.
"That is the last time I go swimming in a dress," she laughed looking upon a slightly bewildered Legolas who lay on top of her.
"And here I thought you could not be less graceful," he teased; the remark leading to her abruptly repositioning herself on top of him in a wrestling tactic she culled from Variag elite fighters.
"I have the grace of a warrior," she remarked proudly, smirking down at him, her bare wet knees digging into the sands as her thighs straddled his hips between them.
"...Your daughter is not a demure one, is she?" Legolas's mother remarked to Rovian as they watched the couple's indecent behavior escalate.
Rovian swallowed what spit she had in her mouth, knowing Vezely was certainly not demure or innocent. She smiled politely and a second later suggested a change in scenery, "Perhaps we should go to the northern plateau. There are willow trees which can provide shade."
Eluréd crossed his arms, mimicking a posture befitting the son of Dior. He found himself less bothered by the couple's behavior. "They will note our presence soon enough. Besides it is nice to reflect back on our youth, and when were also eager to be married. And perhaps, it reminds us to look forward to grandchildren."
"Husband!" Rovian spat in a hushed whisper for she deemed what he just implied improper.
"He is right, Lady Rovian," Legolas's mother returned unabashed, turning her attention, "Grandchildren have indeed been on my mind. The joy they would bring to all of us..."
Thranduil disliked watching his son succumb to the wiles of this Elf, but not because of impropriety as was the discomfort of the others. Indeed, she was not demure but assured in the way she moved on top of him like that, as if she was used to controlling men. The thought bothered him slightly as he remembered she was raised by men. Her Mannish manners also came with experiences untold, he thought darkly.
"...I think we have garnered an audience," Vezely spoke covertly to her partner below her, flicking her gaze momentarily in the direction of the upper terraces. Legolas immediately halted his roaming hands which had found their way onto her bare thighs underneath her pushed up skirt.
With their clothes sticking to their bodies and sand sticking to their clothes, the couple headed back up the steps, knowing they had to pass through their parents in order to reach the chateau where they could towel off.
Vezely acted as if nothing was out of place or unusual, despite being under the cold gaze of her soon-to-be father-in-law. She ignored him and asked her mother casually, "You mentioned there were towels in the?"
"In the south wing of the green room," Rovian promptly answered.
Vezely nodded once showing her remembrance and gratitude, afterwards adding pleasantly as she continued walking passed them, "It is a nice day to go swimming."
Rovian shook her head disapprovingly; calling after them, "And take the south entrance so you do not track water and sand on the rugs!"
Legolas did not fully meet the gaze of his parents. He was embarrassed that they witnessed their risky behavior - behavior that Elves deemed only appropriate behind closed doors and with their spouse. Though he did notice Vezely's confidence as she strutted in front of him; she held conviction in her prior manner. Legolas was soon to be her husband and lover; she felt no shame by showing their physicality.
..."We should be more discrete," Legolas told her as he took the outstretched towel from her hand.
"Probably," she responded unconcerned while using one of the towel's corners to rub her ear dry; then considering nonchalantly, "Though soon enough our home will provide us all the discreteness we need."
Heat rushed to Legolas's cheeks and he turned while wrapping the towel around his shoulders, hoping to hide his blush. "We should go to check on its progress," he returned, slightly changing the topic to the building of their home itself, "Tomorrow morning perhaps?"
Glorfindel sat in a high backed chair penning a letter while a High Elf of dark-hair braided with strands of gold and of tall, slender form cloaked in a sapphire blue robe browsed the guest list for the upcoming banquet.
"Your guest list is flawed my dear friend. You invite members of the esteemed Fellowship along with one of Sauron's former servants. You are not normally so careless," Ecthelion remarked in amusement, taking a seat at the table across from him and reaching for the glass of wine he just poured.
"Careless I am not," Glorfindel returned dryly, not removing his eyes from his writing and not being in the mood for his companion's playful mocking. "And former is a formative word. Besides, she is engaged to the Fellowship member you speak of."
"Engaged?" he scoffed, finding absurdity in the pairing. "I am assuming it is not to the Naugrim," he joked referring to Gimli.
Glorfindel provided him a brief look of consternation before returning to his letter.
"Now why is this connection not better known?" Ecthelion queried a moment later, again trying to gain the attention of his partner.
"Because here she is known only as the granddaughter of Dior, not as Sauron's former servant," Glorfindel finally engaged the eyes of his equally revered friend. He had told Ecthelion a lot about his tales across the sea, including his time in Rhun among the distant Secondborn, through which he learned Vezely's story.
"They are one in the same then," Ecthelion pondered further, rubbing his chin. "I should very much like to meet this Vezely. Especially since her deeds make the sons of Fëanor's look somewhat tame..." The details of this corrupted Elf turned Easterling intrigued him.
Vezely had not expected the invitation when she received it; a letter immaculately penned in gold ink and sealed with gold wax that bore the stamped crest of the House of the Golden Flower. It was not that she left Glorfindel on completely unfriendly terms after encountering him in the forests of Dorwinion. Though granted, he did witness her at one of the lowest points of her campaign in Rhun. Plague had decimated a third of her army, and her second in command, Samsara, would meet her end in that land of hidden Elves. And through those Elves and their knowledge of Vezely of the Balchoth, "the tyrant" as they called her, Glorfindel had probably learned more than any other of the evil deeds she once wrought under the blessings of Sauron.
Her grandmother was shocked upon hearing about her invite as well, for among the Noldor, Glorfindel's name rang loudest for his great deeds across the ages. "You should wear grey, yes grey," she confirmed assuredly taking over her preparation for the short trip. "The Noldor appreciate their House colors and being of the House of Dior, descendent of Eru Thingol, grey is our color." The expectation placed upon her was to represent her patriarchal line; still a strange concept for her to grasp but considering the Noldor's paucity of knowledge about her past, her house would be how she was hailed and recognized.
Glorfindel's intent was to invite Gimli and Legolas, along with Thranduil and his wife, to his home where he would hold a small celebration in their honor, since he was unable to greet them when they arrived. He lived in the city of Tirion upon Túna, where the majority of the High Elves of the Noldor resided. There one would find Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, as well as Lord Elrond and his wife, Lady Celebrian. It was a city of white stone built upward, an abundance of fountains and waterways dug throughout, and of "High Elf" refinement, or at least that is how Vezely's grandmother described it. "The Noldor are different from the Teleri," Nimloth explained to her, "Their customs, their expectations, you would do well to leave your trousers at home."
Dior mocked his wife's worry, "She is going in the company of the esteemed Fellowship, my dear. Attention will be on them."
"But she is engaged to a member of the Fellowship. They will take notice if she is wearing a sword!" Nimloth exclaimed back, quickly deciding to pack her granddaughter's wardrobe for her. Vezely found these concerns ridiculous, though she was also content not to be overtly noticed at a celebration in Legolas and Gimli's honor, especially if the Noldor were as her grandmother described. Her trousers and sword, however, would not stay at home.
She traveled with Legolas's escort. Despite their unmarried status, it was deemed acceptable since his parents were also traveling with them. Gimli was provided a covered carriage to ride in, as he had become too frail to ride a horse. He would be staying on in Tirion at the residence of Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn for the week and returning with their company to attend the wedding. Despite his growing weariness, he looked forward to seeing more of these lands and to bask in the glow of Lady Galadriel once more.
Legolas's lifelong friend, Thalion, was also among the travelers, his hopes high to dote on Lady Adele while in Tirion. He maintained a polite distance from Vezely, not wanting to provoke any arguments for the sake of his friendship. Vezely had noted the familiar face on one of her many visits to Lord Oropher's colony - both Thalion's and that of his brother, the former Woodland guard whom her small company of Balchoth had a hand in slaying several centuries prior. Polite distance. She also observed it with both of them.
The group traveled over several mountain passes of the Pelori, finally crossing over a great bridge into the outer city and crossing several more causeways after, since the city was built up and around extensive waterways. Glorfindel lived in an impressive palace upon the eastern side; the white gates of which led into a courtyard with an immense water fountain built before the entrance.
Having left their horses with servants at the stables, they awaited introduction in front of the fountain. Vezely stood off to the side of the Mirkwood royals, though still in front of the rest of the company. Legolas was aside Gimli, aiding his old friend in his steps as his legs had grown stiff from sitting in the carriage on the ride there.
There was always a hierarchy to greetings and Glorfindel greeted Thranduil and his wife first before Legolas and Gimli.
An Elf stood aside Glorfindel, one of exceptional height and beauty, though it seemed that the Noldor were commonly marked by these attributes. Dark hair, sparkling ice blue eyes, complemented by blue robes. His eyes shifted a few times over to Vezely, making her suspicious of his interest or whether it was simply her short hair, trousers, and sword that garnered attention. She did not take her grandmother's advice and ride there in a gown.
He was introduced as Lord Ecthelion of the House of the Fountain. The name sounded vaguely familiar to Vezely but she could not immediately place it. She had yet to read about Gondolin and its fall in the annals of First Age history that Legolas collected for her. Although once read she would know he had also slayed a Balrog as Glorfindel had in the same battle.
To her surprise, Glorfindel greeted her after Gimli, moving his way over to where she stood - her proud posture making it appear as if she was still a general with a standing army nearby.
"Lord Glorfindel," she ducked her head and placed a fist to her chest, greeting him as an Easterling would greet an equally ranked officer. "Gratitude for the invitation."
"I am glad you came. I desired to replace the image I had of you when last we met," he replied sincerely.
She half-smiled, saying solidly, "In Dorwinion. A meeting not easily forgotten by me or my troops."
He nodded, knowing why it was of worthy remembrance. "But now you appear without the weight of thousands on your shoulders and with a new start to life. I look forward to celebrating the union of you and Lord Legolas next week," he looked towards Legolas, who watched proudly as such a respected member of Valinorian society personally greeted her in front of his father and their escort, deeming her worthy enough to do so.
They would be led to their guest rooms to refresh themselves for the party. Glorfindel had invited several guests from his various circles of acquaintances; all were of some importance in Noldorin high society and desired an audience with the famed Fellowship members.
Upon entering the main hall, Gimli chuckled to Vezely who stood aside him, "And here I thought Elves couldn't get any fancier..."
Vezely began to realize what her grandmother meant by the Noldor being different than the Teleri in terms of refinement. These High Elves were dressed in silks of saturated hues and fully decked in intricate jewels. She had worn what appeared as a grey gown; a fancier garment she had commissioned from the same seamstress who designed her wedding gown. However, it was really a long surcoat designed to be worn over trousers and a blouse. And upon her head was her grandmother's treasured sapphire and pearl circlet she had worn once before. Despite this, she still felt underdressed compared to the company.
"...It appears your potential dueling partner has arrived," Prince Arakano's riding companion, Lord Glandur, jokingly whispered to Arakano upon seeing the same elleth they met on the beaches in front of Dior's residence several mornings prior. Both Noldorin lords were friends of Glorfindel and were invited to the celebration. "So she does not wear trousers or a sword all the time," Glandur added amused by her changed appearance.
Noting their gazes during his approach, Lord Ecthelion interrupted his two friends, "Have you been introduced to Lady Vezely of the House of Dior?"
"Aye, I have. Lord Dior formally introduced us prior the return of her betrothed," Arakano responded seemingly unimpressed after a polite nod of welcome, and then inquiring, "She is of a different nature than other Sindarin or even Silvan Elves I have met. My friend, you no doubt have information acquired from our dear host on the lands across the sea. Please tell us, is it customary now for elleths to dress and act in such a manner as we have witnessed...?" He explained what he meant before looking again upon the elleth in question. Arakano knew Ecthelion was close to Glorfindel and believed he had acquired more information on the estranged Elven colonies still settled across the sea.
Ecthelion chuckled at their ignorance. He remained surprised that no Noldor and only a few Sindar knew her true identity. Being glib and having already downed a few glasses of wine, he not only divulged his amusement by their confusion, but decided to aid in curing it, "My dear friends, you are without the key to unraveling what you deem mysterious of the elleth in question. She is neither Sindar nor Silvan of culture, but could more properly be deemed of the distant Secondborn. I was surprised upon hearing that so few knew of her role in the Great Wars or even stop to reason why she is well acquainted with the Fellowship and the Istari, or with Glorfindel for that matter. I suppose many believe she simply sailed over instead of being condemned to the punishment of waiting in Mandos's Halls...To think one aligned with Sauron would fight alongside those we now honor so highly, and become engaged to our newest star, it is truly a marvel. Though Prince Arakano, your family knows a thing or two about shady alliances," he took a jab at Arakano's family relations, which was a habitual tease between friends. But rather than arouse amusement as intended, Ecthelion had made the two lords so confused neither responded.
"You truly speak in jest, my friend," Arakano finally spoke in disbelief, still finding Ecthelion's words unintelligible.
"I surely do not," Ecthelion took another drink of wine, "Even I cannot create such a tale as hers which will undoubtedly go unwritten..."
...Vezely let out a small growl when realizing these two were also at the banquet. At this moment, the couple was given a short respite from introductions. She had remained at Legolas's side, even though she thought it better for him to be greeted solo. Legolas desired otherwise, having to again remind her that this was not Minas Tirith, that she had no need for concern over Valinorean opinions, and that as his soon-to-be wife he preferred to be seen aside her.
"Is there a problem?" Legolas asked quietly after hearing her low grumble.
"I do not like that Elf or his companion," she remarked through gritted teeth, drinking more wine after as if it would quell her anger.
"Are those the two riders you mentioned?" Legolas questioned uncertain, his eyes narrowing upon them. He remembered Vezely spoke briefly of a confrontation she had on the beach with two Noldorin lords several mornings prior. She had inquired whether he knew if all Noldor had a penchant for showing off and then backing down from a challenge once made.
"They are them," Vez replied solidly, diverting her gaze back to his.
"Unfortunately they appear friends with our host. We will try to remain civil," Legolas nudged her side and gave her an encouraging smile before they moved on to mingle with more guests desiring an audience.
Legolas was not enjoying the constant flow of flattery he was receiving, as all made sure to compliment him on his accomplishments. The only thing that made the party bearable was having Vezely by his side, even if she remained quiet unless spoken to directly in Sindarin. The Noldor preferred to use their language. Legolas spoke Noldorin, as was expected of a prince to know the language of lore, but he always attempted to maneuver the conversation back to Sindarin for the sake of his partner.
Gimli called Vezely over at one point to hear him reiterate to a group of eager guests the tale of Helm's Deep. The aging dwarf desired her assurance that he told the events correctly, seeing as he was becoming forgetful. It was the first time she left Legolas's side that evening, presenting an opportunity for Lord Arakano and Lord Glandur to greet him alone, for their new information intrigued them so.
"...Your heroism precedes you, Lord Legolas, for all here know the tales of the son of Thranduil in the Great War," Arakano spoke politely to Legolas in Noldorin with his chin held high, "It is said that your archery skills are on par with Beleg Cúthalion." Legolas continued to receive this comparison to the greatest First Age archer and it always caused him to duck his head in humble unworthiness. "And your skill with the short knives are of equal repute. Perhaps these lofty claims can be proven through a demonstration between us, for I am also skilled with these weapons."
This was not the first time Legolas was challenged to a duel. It seemed Elvish warriors-that-were yet desired to prove their might between each other in friendly sparring matches. As each time before, he politely declined the offer, "I do not desire to prove my skills, for they were used to end a war and here there are no wars to wage."
"They say you are modest too," Arakano praised with a smug half-smile, "It is surprising you would marry one of such repute."
"Pardon?" Legolas believed he translated incorrectly.
"Your betrothed. Now I know why her manner is so off-putting," he raised an eyebrow cockily.
Despite not knowing or caring what Arakano knew of Vezely, Legolas warned him, "I would ask you be mindful of your words Lord Arakano. I do take kindly to anyone speaking of my lady as off-putting."
"Lady, yes, one raised by eastern dogs to become a Maiar's pet," he countered with a smirk. "It is uncanny that she is of the House of Dior, and one I deemed eligible for a political partnership. You have saved me from making that distasteful mistake my lord."
"Lord Arakano," Legolas interrupted sternly, trying to quell his desire to punch the ellon in the face. Instead, Legolas maneuvered a different route. "You desired a demonstration, undoubtedly to prove your own prowess. I accept..."
"...As I was saying, hmm," Gimli inevitably lost his train of thought. He was about to boast of a key moment in the battle: when he and Aragorn jumped to the front gates and bought the king some time before they were broken into. "Where was I there, Vez?" He implored her help.
"You jumped into the thick of them and cut down at least fifteen with your axe. He is not to be reckoned with, especially if he has an axe in his hand," she confirmed proudly, squeezing his shoulder in support.
"You speak as if you were there my lady," one Elf stated amused in Westron. The Noldor were finding it charming to use the language of the Secondborn in the presence of the dwarf.
"Because she was," Lord Ecthelion smoothly swung into the middle of the guests, hoping to introduce himself to the elleth when she was sans her noble partner. "Lady Vezely is a warrior of the highest order. A general of legions. There are few Elves that hold the title of general and no elleth among those esteemed few."
Vezely eyed the tall ellon darkly, considering her options in stalling his speech.
"A general of legions?" One of the guests quickly scoffed at Ecthelion, afterwards going on to politely scold the revered High Elf who was also known for his flamboyance. "Lord Ecthelion, please slow down on your wine. It is too early to tease the host's guests as such. And she will now undoubtedly return to Lord Dior and Lady Nimloth and speak of the Noldor as crass and unkind at their banquets."
Rather than address the guest questioning him, Lord Ecthelion gazed upon Vezely with sincerity in his eyes, "I tease not. I but confirm your query and Lord Gimli could do so also."
Gimli noted that Vezely's concentrated stare had not lightened and responded carefully, omitting the mention of her as a general. "Aye, she was there with sword in hand."
"Then why is Lady Vezely not spoken of in such tales, for surely the granddaughter of Dior would be noted for being a warrior," they laughed, still disbelieving their words.
"Indeed," Vezely remarked dryly, her eyes now narrowing on Ecthelion. "I but played a minor role. If you will excuse us." She grabbed the High Elf's forearm tightly and yanked him to walk aside her.
Taken unawares by her aggressive handling, Ecthelion submitted and followed, trying to act natural in his steps.
"Listen," she warned him steadily through gritted teeth after gaining enough distance from the group, "I do not know your intent, but if by chance you desire to defame my partner by making my past widely known..."
Ecthelion quickly raised his hands up yielding her threat, "I do not seek defamation of Lord Legolas, my lady. It is simply your story. It is more intriguing than many I have heard in ages from the lands afar."
"You are an odd one then," Vezely responded with some disgust that came with knowing she provided an Elf lord intrigue. A cheap amusement to his overly long life, she thought, and not dissimilar to Gimli who had continued spinning his tale nearby.
"Lord Ecthelion. Lady Vezely," Glorfindel interrupted them hastily, noting the tension from afar and fearing his companion had exchanged poorly chosen words with the estranged and easily tempered elleth.
Ecthelion knew why Glorfindel interrupted, and calmly quelled his fears, "We were just discussing my interest in her story. Which I am gathering need not be shared, for it could, what was it you said? Defame Lord Legolas," he stated amused, slightly mocking her stated concern.
Vezely's eyes again narrowed on him as her temper simmered. He was close to being hit, she thought annoyed.
"He has heard of you, through my own tales," Glorfindel tried to move her steely gaze away from him, "And it is also true, Ecthelion that since the Noldor do not know her tale, it could possibly provoke ill rumors to spread, which I would not have..."
Glorfindel's reasoning helped to calm his friend's desire to spread her story, but while this was occurring another incident had been planned - one that involved a dueling match between Prince Arakano and Lord Legolas.
One of Glorfindel 's kin interrupted the three of them, asking that he set parameters for the match, leading the host to excuse himself to attend to it.
Vezely sneered at Ecthelion before leaving to find out from Legolas what this was all about. Returning to her partner's side, she could tell from his stern demeanor that remnants of a prior disagreement still lingered.
"What is going on?" she asked him quietly.
"It is good you wore your trousers," he responded, knowing what her elaborate surcoat hid underneath.
"What? Why?" she returned confused.
"That duel you desired, well, I have arranged it for you," he spoke in a tone that wavered between uncertainty and justification by what he planned to do.
"What?"