Goneril used to draw a black line around her eyes. She used the Kohl, a mineral powder derived from lead, to emphasize her beautiful green irises. A trick learned from the Haradrim.
That make-up gave her face an even more ferocious and intimidating expression.
Under the rain that poured merciless and icy, the make-up began to melt. The woman's face was then crossed by several blackish lines, which descended on her cheeks like small rivulets.
That was the grotesque mask that Haldir found himself observing when he turned.
"Do you fancy human women?" the one next to him asked.
The Elf did not reply immediately. He let the strange question resound in his mind for a few seconds, before formulating a coherent answer.
"Do you miss your mortal girlfriend?" the warrior on his left again asked. "The woman of Dale?"
At that point, Haldir turned completely to look at her. In front of them, there were two legions of Uruk-Hai. Ready to attack. Suddenly, however, the Elf had lost all his interest in Sauron's armies.
"What do you know about Roswehn?" Haldir asked. "Who are you?"
"Roswehn ... that's her name, then." repeated Goneril. "I knew almost everything ... except her name."
Haldir kept staring in disbelief. He hadn't spoken to anyone about her for at least ten years. Since he had gone in person to Dale to look for her, and in the realm of men he had found so much ignorance and hostility that he had to leave quickly.
"I knew you loved her very much ... and you insist, I see." Goneril continued. "Really heartbreaking. Someone should inform her of your devotion."
"She is no longer alive. So I was told." answered Haldir.
"Oh yes, she is. Prince Legolas confirmed that. She is alive, my dear." the girl said to him. "And you will die here, instead. Sad destiny."
Haldir reacted to the news differently from what she had expected. She saw no emotion on his ivory face, no spark of joy in his blue eyes, no sign of happiness. He seemed almost resigned.
"Good. I hope her last years have been happy. I've always wanted joy for Roswehn." commented the Elf.
"I'm sure her life has been peaceful so far. After all, she was welcomed for thirty years into a great elven realm, and treated with all honors. Of course, Thranduil must have given her everything she could need to be happy. Including a son. " continued Goneril.
She turned again to study the reaction of the Elf of Lórien, who that time did not hide a shiver. "A son?!" Haldir asked.
"Yes. A little prince, who will become the next King of the Sylvan Elves of the East. Such an injustice, do you agree? To elevate a half-breed to the rank of direct heir to the throne." Goneril continued, while the satisfaction of revealing the bitter truth caused small shivers at the base of her neck. The same feeling she always felt whenever she killed her enemies with her sword. "Poor Legolas."
Nothing hurts more than certain truths, Amon had told her. It was sufficient to look at Haldir in the face to understand that her healer friend was right. The Guardian of Lórien seemed bewildered.
Better if you get yourself together quickly, Elf... because now comes a real cannon ball, she thought.
"And do you know how they called him?" She asked again. "They called him Haldir. Like you." said Goneril. "A curious thing, isn't it?"
"You lie." Haldir retorted. "You're saying nonsense. Thranduil would never ... they couldn't have had a child."
"You'd better believe me. I bet you hate Legolas' father. And you're right. He took everything from you: love, and with it your life. He left you only sixty years of remorse, of memories, of dreams remained such. " continued Goneril, merciless.
"That's not true. He didn't take anything from me. They had fallen in love before Roswehn met me. She already belonged to him." answered Haldir.
"But the human called her child like you. Maybe she secretly wanted you to be the father? Perhaps you are?" asked the warrior. Her eyes, encircled by that black line, were shining.
"No. She and I didn't love each other that way." retorted Haldir. "And you ... what are you doing up here? You shouldn't side with us. You should fight in the ranks of those monsters." he looked at her with contempt. "You are evil, I feel it."
"Exactly, Elf. I'm the most evil creature in the world." Goneril smiled.
"Your words are full of poison. It is envy that consumes you. I don't know who you are, but I just have to look you in the eyes to understand that you have never been loved by anyone. Therefore you hate those who live this feeling. Because it is unknown to you." said Haldir.
"And I feel sorry for you."
Goneril bit her lips, to keep at bay the little flicker of anger that rose from her stomach. "Say what you want, Elf. The thing is, tonight we will say goodbye to this Earth and to all the joys and sorrows it has reserved for us. I thought that you had to know what happened to your great love, before turning into a cloud of dust."
"My spirit is ready. And yours?" Haldir asked.
Goneril didn't have time to answer.
One of the soldiers on her line, an elderly man who could have been seventy years old, released an arrow. It had not been an intentional gesture: his old arthritic hands did not have a sufficiently firm grip.
The dart hit one of the monsters with unexpected precision, right in the middle of the chest. That creature fell down like a sack of flour. At the sight of their companion hit and killed, the Uruk-Hai's let themselves go to screams and furious growling. It was a deafening noise, and the people of Edoras were surely hearing it even from the underground. Goneril hoped that Éowyn had enough cold blood to keep her subjects calm, especially the children who had done nothing but whine all the time.
"Hold!" shouted Aragorn from the back.
The attack of Saruman's armies was sudden and violent. Goneril observed that black legions rushing towards the high walls that surrounded the Fortress.
"Get ready!" she commanded.
The first group of archers prepared their spears, followed by the others. "Good luck for your otherworldly journey, Elf. You've been unlucky, and and I was too, in this life." She told Haldir.
"To lose hope means to die. Roswehn never surrendered to the idea that she could not have the love of Thranduil. Of a King. She went to look for him alone, through a dark wood. I say that if a humble human girl was able to do this, everything is possible. " Haldir answered, releasing the first arrow. Elrond's soldiers did the same.
"Yes. And in doing so, she has destroyed your poor heart. Release!" She shouted to her archers. The darts of Men flew high. Many were the Uruks killed. "At least they don't have catapults." commented Goneril.
She saw that the Orcs were carrying very long ladders to the wall. "Aragorn!" She turned to the man from Gondor, who immediately understood.
"...swords!" he shouted.
At that point everyone, including the Eastern woman, prepared for one of the most tremendous battles that would ever take place in Middle-earth.
⚜️⚜️⚜️
As predicted by Goneril, Saruman had a secret weapon. He had blown up the walls with the same explosive dust that Degarre had once used to bring down a bridge. Théoden still lived in times of shields and cavalry, but he ignored that new techniques of war in the meantime had been born. Saruman's power was not magic: it was science that evolved.
However, the collapse of the walls had let the legions of Uruk-Hai enter the Fortress, and at that point it was time to fight seriously.
The rain didn't stop falling, complicating the situation even more. Despite her agility, Goneril herself slipped on the ground several times.
She did not see Aragorn, nor Gimli, nor Legolas, nor Haldir. Even the King seemed to have disappeared. She had the feeling of being left alone.
The explosion had caused the wall to collapse just where she was. Miraculously, the stones had not fallen on her. She had fallen to the ground, in a puddle full of mud. She had barely had time to clean her eyes and she was immediately surrounded by a dozen monsters.
It wasn't easy for her either. The Uruks were tall and muscular. But they were also clumsy creatures, who used strength in a fight, but not agility. Goneril succeeded in eliminating at least five, before some Elves arrived to help her.
The battle on the field lasted several, terrible hours. Meanwhile the rain had stopped, the black clouds had begun to open. Observing the position of the moon in the sky, Goneril calculated that it must have been three in the morning.
"Retreat!" someone shouted suddenly. She recognized Aragorn's voice. "Haldir! Retreat!" the voice shouted again.
Goneril accepted that nothing else could be done. She hated the word retreat, but in that situation further acts of heroism were completely useless.
She was exhausted. Although she was used to fight several consecutive hours, those beasts were too much for her. She managed to sneak into one of the little corridors that led down to the basement. The door was open, and it was not a good sign.
She ran down the narrow staircase and in fact immediately heard several women screaming. She expected to find the scene of a massacre. Only one of those giant Orcs could eliminate women and children within minutes.
Instead, the scenario was completely different. Three Uruks had actually entered the underground caves, but someone was facing them.
One was already lying on the ground, motionless.
"Eowyn!" shouted Goneril.
"Help me!" the blonde girl answered. "Hit the other one!"
Goneril turned her gaze to that screaming multitude of people. Women and kids had gathered in a desperate attempt to defend themselves. An Uruk stepped decisively towards them. "Don't move, you filth." Goneril told him.
The monster turned to look at her. The woman thought that in Saruman there should have been a sadistic side, for having created such horrendous creatures. "I'll do you a favor by killing you. You better know it." She told him.
The beast tried to raise an arm to hit her, but it was useless. The golden sword pierced him in a flash. "Ew. Black blood, rotten blood." Goneril commented, looking at the dark streaks on her blade.
Several women screamed in fear.
"Stay calm. We killed them. You! ..." she said, turning to Éowyn. "... you have to close all the possible entrances to this basement. I locked the door from which I entered."
"We've already done everything we could." answered the princess.
"Yes, but those three entered." retorted Goneril. "I'm going to look for your uncle. Aragorn and the others must have retired to the halls of the Fortress."
"No! No, wait!" shouted Éowyn, grabbing her mud-crusted wrist. "Stay here, please."
"No. Nobody will enter if you'll be careful." she answered and started to walk up the stairs. Then she was hit by a scruple. She stopped and walked back. "You have been brave." She said to Éowyn. "I really mean that."
A brief look of understanding ran between the two women. "As soon as I've left, close this passage as well. And pray."
That said, she rushed to the upper level, where she would have looked for the King of Rohan to ask him: what are you planning to do now, Majesty?
She had an idea. An absurd idea, but at that moment it seemed the only possible way to get out from that cursed place. She hoped that her horse Aldair was strong enough to help her.