This story was written for the "Winter Plant" challenge at the Burping Troll. The break from reality in the character's mind is hers alone and shares no resemblance to the author . . . honest . . . really . . . don't listen to my fellow BT writers! They're just jealous because the voices only talk to me . . .
Berries
By Deby
One, two, three, one by one she added berries to the stone bowl to be mashed. Rosamyn didn't stop until thirty of the red berries met their demise under her pestle.
"Crushing the life blood out of them, that's what I'm doing," she said aloud. "Just like them wicked animals. Filthy beasts, the lot of them." The pestle began hitting the bowl harder and harder. "Crushed the life right out of my poor Bereg and Bregir, and him being just a boy."
There were two graves a stone's throw behind the home, but Rosamyn wasn't even sure who it was she buried there. After the Battle of the Pelannor, the bodies that had been trampled beyond recognition by the rampaging Mumakil were only identified by default when all the other dead were accounted for. All were able to bury someone, they just didn't know if it was the right someone.
In the silence of the stone house, Rosamyn slammed the pestle harder and harder as she relived the injustice of death while former enemies were allowed a freedom that Bereg and Bregir would never see again.
Slowly, her purpose broke through the red mist of hatred and her hand slowed.
"Tch, now look what you've gone and done you daft woman," Rosamyn muttered as she added more berries to the thick liquid in the bowl. "You can't serve them like that, they'll stand out for sure."
Once the mash was again the proper consistency, Rosamyn added it to another, larger bowl.
"There, see, you can't even tell them from the cranberries." Rosamyn stopped. "Now a little sugar to take away the bitterness and the fool will never know the difference."
Taking a lump of sugar, Rosamyn scraped brown crystals on the mash and then stirred them in. When it was mixed well enough, Rosamyn scooped up a minute amount on the spoon.
"Perfect, can't even tell they're in there." She nodded in satisfaction. "I must remember to eat a little myself so he won't be suspicious. At worst, a couple of spoonfuls might make me sick." A mad sort of glee lit her face. "Why that's even better, 'twill look like an accident for sure then."
Rosamyn set the bowl on the table and checked on the goose roasting on its spit.
"Bloody dark man thinks he can make up for everything by helping a poor old widow woman fix her roof. Pah!" She spit into the fire. "I'll fix him, yes I will, and he made it easy. Can't refuse an offer of food can he? Says it's a slight on my honor. I'll show him honor."
A ray of sun slid from the floor onto the table reminding Rosamyn of the time.
"He'll be here soon. I'd better wash up. I want everything to be just right."
On her way to the washstand, Rosamyn paused to straighten a spray of holly in the garland on the mantel. The red berries glowed against the glossy, green leaves.
finis
Author's note: I've always known that holly berries are poisonous, but until I researched, I hadn't realized how poisonous they were. Twenty berries are enough to kill someone.