The Eastern Woman

The house on the hill

Roswehn's house was as Haldir had described it to her.

A large villa with white walls and a roof covered with many red tiles.  The door had recently been repainted in blue, it was still shiny.

What caught Goneril's attention, however, was the garden: it was gigantic, almost half a hectare.  She saw the thorns withered in the large granite basins, brambles that would have turned into roses in spring.  An immense rose garden.

Slowly she went up the path that led to the blue door, and the little grass growing in tufts caressed her ankles.  She looked carefully at the windows on the ground floor, but the curtains were drawn to hide the interior.  She checked the rudimentary mailbox: MONROSE, was the name carved on one side.

Now I have to knock on the door.  I have to go inside and avenge Amon.  After that, end of Goneril's story.  I will go to Rivendell.  I'll take the gold.  I'll retire somewhere.  I will die happy.

A final decision. A decision that would have given way to a series of resolute decisions.  She had hidden her golden sword in a barn nearby, at dawn, when there was noone around. She would have taken it back once the job was done.

She knocked on the blue door.

Silence.

She knocked again, and finally she heard the sound she wanted to hear: hurried brief steps, it was probably the girl, Bettie.

Yeah, and how will you deal with Bettie?  Her conscience asked.
The usual way: a clean, fast, painless cut right from the ear to the clavicle.  Throw the corpse in a damp, wait for it to sink.  The end.

The door opened with a squeak.
"Yes, madam?"  A young woman asked.

She could have been twenty.  She had a round, childish face, with big blue eyes and a very small doll-like nose.  She was short, tiny, her brown hair gathered in a knot at the back of her neck.

"Excuse me ... is this Monrose house?"  Goneril asked, folding her hands in her lap, like a true beggar in search for job.

"This is Roswehn Monrose's house, yes." the young woman confirmed, looking her from head to toe. She raised her hand and touched the pendant of her gold necklace. "Can I do something for you?" the girl asked again. She smiled. She had a smile so sincere, and sad.

"I'm searching ... well, I'm embarrassed to say it ... I'm searching for job." Goneril finally admitted.

The girl looked terribly mortified. "Oh ... I'm sorry ... we don't need a maid. I'm serving in this house, and besides me, Ms. Monrose doesn't want anyone." then she smiled again. Goneril saw in her eyes the genuineness typical of good girls.

"Bettie!" a voice was heard. A suffocated and hoarse voice, but firm. "Bettie! Whom are you talking to?"

The young woman turned to answer. "Just a second, Roswehn! It's a young woman! Give me a moment, darling." then she turned to look at Goneril. "I wish I could help you, I am desolate. But perhaps ... you could go to the Royal Palace and offer yourself as a court worker. Queen Sigrid and Princess Tilda are old, maids and servants are never enough. If you have experience they will certainly hire you ... "
Then she stopped. She scanned Goneril's face. "Madam, you are so pale ..."

Goneril, in fact, felt weak. She had put nothing in her stomach since her incarceration in Greenwood. "I'm fine. Don't worry. I haven't eaten in a long time ... I've escaped from my kingdom." said the warrior.

Bettie's eyes widened. "Escaped? Why, what happened to you?"

"... I am a citizen of Rohan. I served the royals at court, one horrible day we have been attacked by Orcs. I managed to escape through the Rhovanion and now ..." she feigned to burst into sobs. "... now I don't know what to do anymore!"