WORMTONGUE

DISCLAIMER - I don't own Wormtongue or any other Lord of The Rings characters. They are products of J.R.R. Tolkien's imagination.



I'm the one that people forget about. The outsider, the loner, the freak. An afterthought, always in the background. I've always been seen as the weak link. Well, I'm sick of it. Soon, after the battle of Helms Deep, the armies of Gondor will be crushed, and I will get the respect I deserve. Then, I'll make them all pay.

I've not had an easy life. I had the misfortune of being born hideous. My own mother tried to drown me. My father stopped her, but he couldn't stop her from taking her own life soon afterwards. My father never forgave me.

I had a friendless childhood, always picked on by the children of the noble men of Gondor. However, I tried my best to endear myself to influential adults. They provided me with education: how to read and write. And they provided me with books. These were my escape. I lost myself in the world of literature, whether it was texts of history or science. I used books to educate myself beyond the basics I had been taught. I was soon the brightest youth in Gondor. At the age of 12, my father cast me out of his house. I was left alone. I walked in the wilderness for days. Finally, I collapsed outside the gates of Isengard. I was found and taken into the Tower of Orthanc, where I first met Saruman The Wise.

I had heard of him before, but I had never seen, much less met him. I had always been fascinated in wizards. I had read about the exploits of various wizards, mostly Gandalf The Grey. But it was Saruman who I had the most respect for. He was the head of the order of wizards. He hadn't needed to go out and get his hands dirty to reach the highest rank. He had used his intellect. Definitely a role model for me. And now, here I was a half-dead child, in the presence of Saruman.

"It appears that you are in need of some help," he said.

Saruman took me under his wing. He was an efficient master. However, he was a cold one as well. Never did he show any affection or even pride towards me. Every achievement I made was met by a criticism from Saruman. I could never meet his standards. But what could I expect? My parents never loved me, so why should a wizard such as Saruman? He did teach me a lot. More than I could learn from any book. He taught me the ways of the world. Most importantly, he taught me how to influence others. With a lot of practice, I became a master manipulator. Even if he didn't show it, I think that he was secretly pleased with his creation. At the age of 21, I finally felt ready to leave Isengard.

"Feel free to go if you feel ready," was all he said. No goodbye.

I returned to Gondor, only to discover that my father was dead. I felt little remorse. I had already missed the funeral, so I had to content myself with a visit. I had never knew Galmod Wormtongue. I had often reached out in an attempt to bond with him, but had always failed. And at that point, with one flower left by the grave, I abandoned the goal altogether.

Soon after returning to Gondor, I called upon my acquaintance with influential people to gain a job as a messenger to King Theoden. Theoden was a noble man, strong-willed, but deep down I could sense uncertainty. I used the skills of manipulation that Saruman had taught me to rise through the ranks of the men of Rohan, until I had gained the position of chief advisor to Theoden. After years of being mocked as merely being someone in the background, I was profiting out of the role. The man in the shadows, pulling the strings. For several years I worked successfully in this role. I may have still been Theoden's advisor if it wasn't for Eowyn.

When I first became Theoden's advisor, Eowyn was still very young. I barely communicated with her. The one time I had smiled at her when she was a child had sent her running away in fear. But when she had grown-up, I realised that I was quite smitten with her. This grew. Finally, I realised that I was in love with her. One evening, I sat next to her at the banquet table, rather than at my usual position at Theoden's right side. For the first time, we were able to have a conversation. Well, Eowyn did most of the talking. I just listened in quite contentment. I wasn't sure if my love for her was requited. Could it be possible for anyone to love Grima Wormtongue? I had to take the risk. A few days after the banquet, I arranged to bump into Eowyn just as we were about to retire for the evening. All my skills of manipulation vanished. I didn't know what to do. I told her I was lonely, and asked if she would come and talk to me in my chamber. She saw right through my plan.

"All I can offer is my friendship, Grima," she said.

My muttered my goodnights, my voice starting to crack. I rushed back to my chambers and let the tears flow. I had never been so upset in my life. The wailing was uncontrollable. Despite the thick, stone walls surrounding every room, I had to put a handkerchief in my mouth to muffle my grief, so that no one else could hear. I cried myself to sleep that night.

The following morning I took a week's leave from my position in Gondor. Riding my horse, Dantor, I felt drawn back to Isengard. To Orthanc. To Saruman. For the first time in over 10 years, I met Saruman. I was not greeted with a smile or a handshake, but a proposal. If I were to act as a spy for him in Theoden's court, and weaken the king's resolve, I would one day be able to claim Eowyn as my wife. I readily agreed. Saruman unveiled his plan to me. His hypnotic voice gave the message even deeper resonance. I felt compelled to agree with completely. He had not only trained the perfect pupil, but the perfect servant. I realised then that I was afraid of Saruman. I was afraid of him more than anything else in the world. I had to obey him.

I returned to Theoden's kingdom, and did what Saruman had ordered me to do. I gnawed away at Theoden, feeding on his confidence, burrowing into his mind like a worm burrows through dirt. It took quite some time to break him, but break him I did. I'm sure that, in the state I had put him in, Theoden would be unfit to lead the army of men into victory against the aligned forces of Mordor and Isengard. Then, along came Gandalf.

I had always called Gandalf a bringer of trouble. But usually it had been bad news for Theoden. One this occasion, it was bad news for me. He knew what my true motives were. Of course, I could have denied his claims, stood my ground, but he outsmarted me. He tapped into one thing I lack: courage. He stated that, if I was loyal to King Theoden, I would join the forces going to fight at Helm's Deep. If not, I could go and rejoin Saruman, without anybody to stop me. I chose the latter. Of course, no one stopped me, but walking out of the palace, with every pair of eyes set on me, was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. When I reached the palace doors, I looked back. Despite the hundreds of people in that palace who hated me, the traitor, I could only see one: my Eowyn. And I could see true hatred in her eyes. With a snarl, I turned and left Gondor for the last time.

When I returned to Isengard to find it under siege. My heart leaped into my throat, and I tried to turn and run, but a horrific Ent grabbed me off of my horse. He cast me into the filthy water surrounding Orthanc to go and join my master. Walking through that lake I felt utterly humiliated. For those few minutes spent struggling towards the Tower, I felt like the lost child at death's door, fighting death, trying to reach a safe haven. Finally, I reached my destination. Saruman's hand grabbed me and pulled me into the Tower. I looked at my master. There was madness in my eyes. He beat me viciously, and I cowered from him in fear.

Once he had calmed down, he approached me again, the model of charm, and told me how things were still going to work out. He told me, in that ever- convincing voice of his, that the Urak-Hai would be victorious in The Battle Of Helm's Deep. And I believe him.

So what if Theoden now has Gandalf by his ear rather than me? Our army is unstoppable! The battle will be won. Oh, I plan to take care of Saruman, my cruel master. The armies of Gondor may be unable to stop him, but a knife to the back will do the job. That will be revenge for his constant criticisms. Then I will rule supreme in Isengard, and over whatever regions The Dark Lord Sauron sees it fit to grant me. And Eowyn? She'll be mine yet. She will be my prisoner. Then, I'll gnaw away at her, like I did her father. She'll grow to love me. Even if she doesn't, she will still be my wife, and she will bear my children. Another Wormtongue to rule after I am gone.

But I'll stay quiet for now. I'll cling on to Saruman's every word. I'll keep a low profile, which shouldn't be hard. I'm the one that people forget about.