The Eastern Woman

The end of the journey

Roswehn Monrose observed the wooden sculpture they had built in her honor, on the large terrace of the palace in the woods.

Thranduil had ordered his artisans to make a statue precise in every detail.

They had represented a girl in her twenties, wearing a simple dress, and with a proud expression on her face. Exactly how she had looked like, that cold night in Dale, when she had entered Thranduil's camp tent and humbly asked to hear the conversation between the Elf King, Bard and Gandalf. That night when Bilbo Baggins had made his appearance with the Arkenstone in his hand and the Ring of Sauron probably in his pocket.

It was incredible, absurd: that night, if any of the four had had the intuition, that little Hobbit would have been searched, they would have found the Ring on him and a terrible catastrophe would have been avoided.

Roswehn wondered what Thranduil would have done if he had found out that the ring was there, right in front of him. Maybe he would have kept it. Maybe he would have taken it to Greenwood and closed it in a coffer, like the gems of Lasgalen.

Maybe Lord Elrond and Lord Celeborn would have gone both to Greenwood to convince Thranduil to destroy it. Perhaps another war would have been declared among elven people.

All in all, it had been good that the damn thing had been hidden for all those decades in the Hobbit Shire.

The woman thought of Bilbo: she was certain that Sauron's poison had ruined his existence, the evil inherent in the Ring was in him at that point, and it was also sucking the life of the new bearer. A young Hobbit.

Thinking of Bilbo opened the closets of her memories. Roswehn recalled the precise moment when her eyes had met for the first time those of Thranduil. It was a cold gaze, that of the King. He had always been cold, as if there were no feelings in him.

In the following years, he had shown many times that he actually had a heart, but his eyes had always been two icy sapphires.

Many times Roswehn had wondered if with his wife Calenduin, the Queen, Thranduil had sometimes revealed himself for what he was for real, with all his weaknesses, with all his doubts.

Of course, Roswehn had always reflected. She was his wife. And although you have spent thirty wonderful years with him, you will never know him as the Queen knew him. And at the end of his long life, whether he goes to the Undying Lands or really turns into a spirit, he and his wife will meet again, and for eternity they will be together. You have always been, and always will be in his memories, the other one. The human lover.

"Roswehn, you shouldn't stay here. Come on, I'll bring you in your room." said Nim. "It's not wise to linger outside. You've heard the King, there's an attack going on. Let's go back inside."

"Ah, stop it. The Orcs are far away, beyond the mountains." Roswehn answered. "... my son is going at war. Haldir has always been a rebel. Do you remember how many troubles he made? And his father always punished him. He is right, our son is really similar to me." the old woman said. "You'd better be prepared, Nim: being a parent is tough. It's a battle itself."

Nim smiled. "I know. I know. But now follow me. I do not feel safe here. And the enemies are not far: look at that smoke there ..." the Elf said, pointing at a huge black cloud that covered like a mantle part of the Forest.

"Oropher ... the ice dragon ... has flown here to help us. He had promised it to me." said Roswehn, regardless of her friend's concerns. "Thranduil mocked me when I told him I had ridden a Dragon. He didn't want to believe it. And he got so angry when I told him that I had called the beast Oropher...his father's name!" the woman smiled. "You have no respect, those horrible creatures are a curse to this Earth, he had scolded me. Radagast, the Brown Wizard, was there with us. It was the moment he revealed the prophecy about our son. He ordered us to keep him hidden here. Even then, the King did not give up his skepticism. He did not trust that sorcerer. He called him a miserable old madman. We also argued because of that, I ... I could not stand his cynicism. " Roswehn continued to tell, completely lost in her memories.