The Eastern Woman

Betrayals

Goneril kept her sword pointed at Aragorn's throat. She looked at Gandalf, who had entered the room where she and the ranger faced each other.

Taking advantage of the woman's momentary inattention, Aragorn grabbed the blade of the sword with one hand and pushed it away from his face. He cut himself, and a rivulet of blood ran down his wrist.

"Here, now on my sword there is the blood of a King." the warrior grinned, looking back at him.

"Did you hear what I just said?" the Wizard said.

"I only heard nonsense." She answered. "... Are you implying that I could be Théoden's lost daughter?"

"Precisely. I'm more than certain." retorted the old man.

"And why are you so sure?" the Generaless smiled, obviously skeptical. "...'cause I look like a woman who lived here a long time ago? Do you base your powerful deduction on this?"

"You will ask Théoden. You and he have much to talk about." said Gandalf.

Meanwhile, Legolas and Gimli also arrived.

"What's going on here?" the Dwarf muttered. "... is this a secret meeting?" he grumbled, annoyed.

"No, my friend. Don't worry." Gandalf smiled. "... where is the king? Has he remained by Théodred's tomb?"

"Yes." answered the Elf. "The pain for him is still too strong."
Legolas had never attended a human funeral. It had seemed to him a very sad and, to some extent, grotesque ceremony. He could not imagine a body buried under six feet of mud and left at the mercy of worms.

He noticed that the woman was watching him. She looked at him from head to toe, with that cold and evilish expression that Legolas was learning to detest.

"Before Théoden bores me with his questions, I would like to exchange a few words with you, Elf."  She finally told him.  "In private."

Aragorn, Gandalf and the Dwarf looked at each other in surprise.

Legolas nodded.  "Agreed."

"Come with me. In there."  she said, and headed for a small room, furnished with red and yellow tapistry.  Goneril closed the squeaky door as soon as the Elf entered.

"Tell me. What do you want."  he asked.

"So, dear Prince... how is your brother?"  asked Goneril, while her cat eyes stared at the elf's equally feline ones.

Legolas winced.  He was silent for a moment, then answered.  "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play with me. I know everything about your family. I'm talking about your half-breed brother, who lives in Greewood, hidden from everyone's eyes ..."  she said, with her usual wicked smile.  "Your father's second son, whom the great elf king had with a human woman, sixty years ago."

Legolas looked down.
No, he thought.

" I know the secrets of your family, in every detail. And I'm asking you, how is your half-brother."  she said.

Legolas murmured.  "How did you find out?"

Goneril sighed.  "Well, it's a long story. Let's just say, I met someone who came from your realm long time ago. An ... old subject of yours. A Healer. He was banished by your father precisely because of that affair.  He told me the story. "

Legolas' face was crossed by a flash of understanding.  "Amon ..." he whispered.  "That false, vile traitor ..."

"Oh yes."  she commented.  "It is unbelievable the vindictive impetus that can be born in the hearts ... even in the pure ones of you Elves. Your Healer was so angry with your father ... that he told me everything. Every sordid secret of your dark kingdom in the woods.  "