The Eastern Woman

Gold

Théoden took off his long fur coat and placed it on the arms of one of the servants.

"Bring them food. Our guests must be hungry." He commanded. "Éowyn, please." he said to his niece, giving her a gentle caress on her face. The girl could not find the courage to inform the King of the death of his son Théodred.

The boy had died three days before. Èowyn was hoping that someone else would take the responsibility of informing the King that the Prince was gone forever. The corpse of Théodred was waiting for burial.

"We don't have much. Only hot broth and some wine." the young woman said, turning to the five. The Dwarf protested: "... broth ?! Ha! Bring me rather the hen you made it with!" he said.

"I'm sorry. We have no meat ... but I can give you some bread!" she offered.

"Well, if you have nothing else ... but bring all the wine!" Gimli exclaimed. "At least there's something to drink."

"Gimli ..." whispered Aragorn. "...please."

"Hey you!" called Goneril. Éowyn turned around. "... come here. Help me to take off the armor, quick!" She ordered.
Éowyn looked at her, annoyed.

Aragorn intervened: "I'll do it."  Then he walked behind Goneril and began to unfasten the iron corset and the armor.  He hit her back.  The woman turned around.  "What are you doing!"  She asked in a hiss.

"I wouldn't be too arrogant if I was you. You're in the presence of the royal family of Rohan. The girl is not your servant. Use another tone in here."  He murmured.  "I hope it's clear."

The Generaless laughed.  "You have a  incredible boldness, wanderer. It is not common to hear a stray warrior talk this way to a soldier of a higher rank, like me."

"A ranger?"  the Elf intervened.  He had approached the two.  "Do you know who's here behind you? He is the heir of Isildur!"  He told her.

"No, Legolas." said Aragorn, adding an elven phrase.

"You mean, the claimant to the throne of Gondor? This guy here?"  asked Goneril, with an incredulous look.  "Yeah, right. And who would you be, Thranduil's son?"

"Yes, I am."  the Elf answered dryly.  "How did you understand that?"

Goneril freed herself from the rest of the armor and stretched her arms.  Aragorn noticed her long hair, which reached her waist.  They looked like a black velvet cloak: they weren't disheveled, as one would have expected from a warrior.  Indeed, Goneril's appearance was on the whole rather attractive.  It was obvious that the woman took great care of herself.

"Two things: either you are crazy, or you are phenomenal liars. You dare introduce yourself as the prince of the Woodland Realm and this one behind would be the next ruler of Gondor? A lovely joke, Elf. Where is that girl with food  ? "  she turned her gaze around looking for Éowyn, who arrived just then.  With her, there were two court servants.  The three women brought three plates of steaming broth, two jugs of wine and one of water.  A fourth girl arrived with a basket of bread.

"Here. We have nothing else."  Éowyn said.

"And this would be a royal palace? I have eaten more abundant meals in a country village."  Goneril murmured, pulling a bowl of broth towards her.  "And how should I drink it? With my hands?"  she remarked.
A servant arrived quickly, bringing spoons.

"Do you know that you're starting to irritate me, girl?"  Gimli exclaimed.  "Have you been taught good manners in the place you come from?"

"Uuuh, a dwarf who speaks of good manners, interesting. Tell me, is it true that your women have beard?"  Goneril provoked him, soaking that stale bread in the broth, to make it soften.  "And that your children have calluses on their hands?"