The beginning of a new life
(Sequel to the redemption of the dark ones)
First act Gríma's Point of view:
Black velvety sky above me, the soft ocean breeze under my feathered wings, and the pale face of the moon reflected on the dark waters of the sea. What simple yet wonderful pleasures; I was feeling in pure bliss. From the time of my second birth, when Banshee took me from the darkness of my grave and infused life in my body, I had been inundated with new sensations that both overwhelmed and delighted me. My hearing, and my sight, were as sharp as those of an Elf.
Who could imagine that I, Grima, son of Gálmód, better known as Wormtongue, would be someday as immortal and magical as an Elf?
Not my father, of course, who was always mulling over my uncommon appearance. "If he wasn't my only heir I would throw him from the nearest cliff. He is so weak and thin. Most of the boys of his age are taller than him by a head. "
Nor his sister, a horrendous widow with a reputation of having killed her husband. "You don't dare to do such a thing, remember we need him to lay claim on our father's inheritance. Though, I wish you had not been so stupid in mating his mother, that Haradrim whore. If only you have followed my advice and married the King's sister."
Nice people, both of them, talking of such things while I was in the room, as if I wasn't there, or was a kind of idiot who could not understand. I understood quite well my situation. It seemed my grandfather decided that my father should have a son in order to inherit the family estate. So, I was their only guarantee to put their greedy hands on the wealth left by the old man. I meant nothing to them, and the feeling was reciprocal.
I felt so relieved when they died. I still can smell the smoke rising from the cottage that was my home. I had enough time to save my skin. But my father and aunt didn't make it out the house, although, probably they were too drunk to even notice it was on fire.
The neighbours were so kind as to accuse me, a six-year-old boy, of burning down the house. Thankfully, the King's sister didn't pay attention to their stupid words. I may add the idea of killing my relatives had crossed my mind, but in that time I was too young and my heart had not darkened to that point yet.
Theoden's sister was so alike Éowyn, but she was all warmth and compassion. She even took me in her house when I was left alone in the world."We are almost there, my love."
Banshee's voice brought me back to the present.
She was barely some feet from me, her lean perfect form gliding in the air. To mortal eyes she would be invisible, but I could see her, a dark silhouette against the nocturnal sky, surrounded by a blue aura. Her face could compete in beauty and brightness with the moon. "Look ahead, Grima, the land of our kin, Avalon!"
I obeyed her command and gasped in awe. The island gleamed as a diamond against the black horizon.
She laughed, a clear exquisite sound, so new in her, yet so delightful. "I guess you are surprised by its beauty. Just wait until see our castle, then you will be more amazed."
A sudden current of wind came from the south, carrying a thick fog and pushing us away from our path. We tried to avoid it, edging our way upon the current. Then, a Fae, with silvery wings and a mane of long brown hair appeared floating before us.
I never saw someone as him before. He was suspended in midair, his hair waving wildly in the wind. He was impossibly slender, and I could swear his wings irradiated tendrils of light. His face was austere, his eyes of ebony were cold and I could feel them piercing holes in my soul.
"Do not worry, he is just Nothus, the guardian of the Southern wind," Banshee whispered to me, then addressed the stranger with her most dignified stance, "My brother, let us pass, for we are two tired Faeries looking forward to return home."
"I see the news brought by the sea birds are true, you have a new consort. I am happy for you, my sister. Go ahead, I shall not hinder your path anymore." His voice is sibilant and as cold as his eyes.
The wind ceased all of a sudden, and Nothus disappeared with it.
So, we arrived to the shores of Avalon, and once there, with my feet on the dock I looked in wonder the magnificent harbour. I had been at Belfalas bay before, and even went close to the Grey Havens, though my eyes never saw such a magical view. The Fairish white ships, with their silvery veils extended under the moonlight, was a sight taken from the most impossible dream. I calculated one of the ships from Belfalas would surely look like a little fisher's boat compared with the huge vessels anchored here.
"Even though I treasure the expression of surprise in your face, Grima, I am afraid we cannot linger here. There comes a company of wardens that will escort us to our home." She pointed towards the stone bridge that crossed the bay. I watched the company, they were a dozen of Fairies, males and females, dressed in dark tunics and leggings, and wrapped in crimson cloaks. I realized their hair were long to their elbows and as black as mine. The tallest one came toward us with the bridles of two black horses in his hands.
"My lady, we were expecting you and your husband, as Queen Mab commanded us to."
Banshee stood tall and dignified as the princess she was and took the bridles from him. She gave me one of the horses and climbed graciously on hers.
I may not look like a Rohirrim but I surely know how to ride. So I mounted in one swift single movement and followed her lead, towards the Shadowy Woods, my new home.
*****
I can say we rode all night, going deeper and deeper into the woods. Though I never sat before on a more comfortable saddle and never knew a horse with more a secure and balanced gallop. I knew it was running because I could hear the powerful hooves against the ground and feel the cold night wind against my face. But I never felt my body grow weary. To be honest, since my rebirth, I felt stronger, so probably that was the reason I was unaffected by our long ride. Besides, it was impossible for me to pay attention to a single thing when so many miracles developed before my eyes.
Shadowy Woods was an enchanted place. Thousand and thousand of ancient trees, with dark trunks lined at both sides of the main path. I swear I could hear them whispering to each other, and their mysterious talk mixed with the sounds of the nocturnal birds. It reminded me of Fangorn. This probably would have unnerved me before, but now it was filling me with reassurance. I saw eyes, strange eyes in the shadows, and deep vibrating voices. The Woods were alive, pulsing with energy, greeting us with a strange yet amusing salutation.
Then, I saw lights, passing by our way, they were as big torches of unnatural blue fire.
"Those are some of the pixies that live among the trees, they use such form when they travel. I hear they have a celebration going on, though they always are celebrating something. These woods are under our protection, but the Pixies help us to keep an eye on them." Banshee's eyes were glowing green with delight when she explained this to me.
I was just recovering from this surprise when a sudden silver gleam caught my attention. I looked at my right and saw many of these gleams running parallel to our path, through the ferns of the woods. Just for a second, I had a good glimpse of one of those animals, and its shape and movements were those of a wolf. A sudden howl made me shudder in fear, because it reminded me the hideous wargs that Saruman kept alive and fed with Orcish and sometimes human flesh inside the bowels of Orthanc. So many times he had threatened me with giving my dead body to them, that I could do nothing but wince.
"Those are wolves, white wolves. They are welcoming and escorting us. "
"Welcoming us?"
"Yes, their kin are loyal to our. Do not let their size deceive you they are not like wargs. They have lived here long time, and that's why the crest of our house has a silver wolf on a red field. The people of Avalon call us the Wolven people, and it's an honour to be called so. Someday I will introduce you with them, and maybe they will let you mount on their backs.
"I think I would decline such honour, my dear, I prefer horses very much, thank you."
She laughed and spurred her horse even harder.
I saw her, enthralled, her long legs, hardly covered by the black dress, pressing the flanks of the horse, her dark red tresses flaring wildly in the wind, her pale face like a second moon, lit up in joy and abandoned delight.
'How in the name of all gods I never noticed her alluring beauty before? How can I be so lucky as to have her heart?' I asked once again, because I had been asking this since the moment she made me hers.
*****
Astounding, was the only word that could describe the town of the Wolven people. We arrived there as soon as the sun appeared on the horizon. Just in time to look at the impressive black towers of the palace outlined against the pale blue sky. Orthanc could not compare to such a magnificent fortress. When we came close to the high circular wall that surrounded the city we heard the call of trumpets and horns. The huge doors opened and I almost fall from my horse when my eyes lay on the crowd that arranged tightly at both sides of the main street.
When our company entered the city, lead by Banshee, the people cheered with exalted cries and waved crimson handkerchiefs in the air.
Banshee came to my side and held my hand.
At the saluting cries of 'Hail Princess Banshee, Hail Prince Grima' my heart skipped a beat. 'Prince Grima?' Not only I was a Fae, I was a prince. My mind reeled in sync with the exalted cheers of the people... my people. I found myself waving to them, smiling like a fool, holding the hand of my beloved one.
"They love you, Grima," she leaned to my ear and whispered softly, making the hairs of my neck raise and my heart thump even harder inside my chest.
"I can see it, but why?" I asked, still waving to the welcoming people.
"Why? Because her princess has finally a consort. My joy is their joy. They expected this for long, and now it is happening. Your coming is a blessing to our lands."
*****
Banshee insisted that I needed rest, though it was impossible. How could I rest while so many things were happening around me? Besides, I was feeling vigorous as I never felt before in my entire life.
When the servants showed me the principal chamber, I looked in wonder the lot of my old things arranged neatly, just as they were in my old room back in Edoras. My books on ancient lore, the instruments I used to study the stars, my records... though I noticed none of my old clothes were present.
"I saved them for you, my dear. Even if you denied to come with me, I could not bear the idea of anybody scavenging through your things," Banshee said, then added "I didn't bring any of your robes, or other garments, but you will find plenty of new clothes in those drawers, and there is a hot bath prepared for you, behind that door."
Everything was just like a dream. Too much at the same time to stand it, I must say. But I took it very well until the moment she mentioned the bath. The truth has to be said, I was not so used to extensive cleansing. Back in Edoras, and living among the almost barbaric people of Rohan, I learned to deal with the basic idea of washing my body very rarely. It was not proper to wash oneself so thoroughly, or to be more clean then other men, it was considered a quite feminine custom. Though, if I was going to live here, I had to stick to the rules, and it seemed that the imperative rule was to be especially clean.
It took all my self control and determination to avoid feeling uncomfortable among the servants designated to help me in my grooming. I never had such attentions before, and felt embarrassed when they took of my garments. In that moment, I remembered that in my first night in Orthanc, I just let my lady undress me and all my shame disappeared under her ferocious attack. This memory helped to ease my doubts. For, if she had not found me so repulsive, then maybe I was not so disgusting as I myself had assumed.
So, I sighed in resignation and stepped inside the huge tub filled with steaming water. Oh, I had been missing so much! The wonderful sensation of warm water surrounding me, and the soft lather of aromatic soap and oils washing away the dirt, not only from my body but from my hair.
Once I was before the body sized mirror of the room, clean and dressed up in one of the outfits provided by Banshee I could do nothing but gasp. That one was not me! The sallow skin of my face was now almost marble white, and as soft as a polished stone. Within my irises, mixed with the pale blue, there were sparks of gold. My hair, now brushed and free of tangles, looked even darker and yet somehow bright, still a little wavy but nonetheless tamed beyond recognition. The clothes added a mysterious air to my form, the black brocade tunic, the leggings of deep blue and the leather boots up to my knees. The outfit was completed by a cape in the kingdom's colours: black on the inside and red on the outside.
"So, my dear, do you like what you see?" Banshee came to my side, touching my shoulder reassuringly. She was dressed regally, a black silky gown wrapping sensuously about her beautiful form. Her hair was now combed and the black circlet that announced her status was proudly crowning her head.
"Ask me that when I understand what has happened to me."
She just laughed quietly and embraced me.
Before I could notice she was kissing me, and my heart drummed like thunder inside my chest. All the finery and new appearances forgotten, all the magic of the realm and the events of the night thrown into oblivion. As I held her against me the entire world disappeared.
Our fine clothes were discarded in minutes and we made love with urges held in check for a long time. I took the lead, conquering her, as I desired to do since our first time.
So many times I had dreamed of doing this to the cold White Lady of Edoras. So long I had desired that pale statue with the golden mane, even when her beauty could only compare to her iciness. I was silly enough to believe her calm demeanour and lack of feelings would satisfy me.
I was so wrong, because once I tasted the pleasures of the flesh with my Dark Lady, I became obsessed of her attentions. I was crazy in love with the female under me. That fierce creature with fire in her hair and inside her womb. Banshee melted me and sent me into the stars again and again, while her acute howls pierced my ears with its delicious animalistic sounds. I cried out her name, feeling my body and soul burning.
"I love you," I whispered, when she was nestled in my arms, her long legs entangled with mine, the afterglow of our encounter still colouring her ivory cheeks.
"I love you too, my dark child," she answered, her eyelids half closed, and a genuine smile drawn in her blood red lips.
*****
It's strange how things sometimes arrange so neatly. When my life had been so difficult and uneasy all those years at Rohan, all of a sudden I found myself a prince of a rich land, with dozens of servants to attend my desires and a beautiful wife that loved me with all her heart.
It was no wonder why I was starting to feel insecure. I was standing on the balcony of my room, watching the nocturnal sky. The night was my favourite time, when I could think more clearly.
"What troubles you, love?" Banshee's soft hand pressed mine.
"It's nothing, my dear."
"You don't deceive me, I know your heart, remember?"
"I feel worried, uneasy. I've never been so happy, and I'm afraid. It's like all this calmness and happiness are a prelude to a disaster."
"My poor Grima, you are so used to live on the edge of a knife. Do not worry, I am here at your side, and nothing can harm you."
"I know. But still, I can't help it. I haven't feel like this since I was just a five-year-old child."
"Tell me about it, maybe this could help to ease your worries." She sat on the stony edge of the balcony and looked at me with her gleaming eyes.
"Those years were the happiest times in my life, until now, that's it. I was poor, very poor, but my mother always found a way to put bread in our table. Only when I had grown up did I realized that sometimes she had to sell her body to feed me. Though I never considered her a whore, because she only did what she could to keep us alive. Being a Haradrim woman was hard, especially in a land where the differences were not subtle. Maybe if we had lived in Gondor, where blood had mixed so much and many of the Gondorrim people were as dark skinned as my mother, the situation could have had another solution. But in Rohan, few people dared to employ her for the harvest or other kinds of work. Southern people had always been Rohirrim's foes, and nobody was clever enough to notice a poor woman with a child meant no harm to them."
"I loved her so much, so, when she got ill and her life consumed in less than a month, I felt all my happiness drawn from my soul. My father coming for me only added grief to my already battered spirit. Maybe this joy I feel right now reminds me of the beautiful days I lived with my mother, and I fear that someone or something is lurking in the shadows, waiting to take away all of it, again." I felt a knot of tears ready to be shed. And when Banshee embraced me and stroked my back, I could do nothing but obey the desires of my heart, and cry like a child. After many long minutes, I finally felt a little relieved.
"I didn't know that part of your life. You never told me about it. I suspected your heritage were not entirely from the Rohirrim, though I never imagined you were half Haradrim. So, your black hair is a gift from your mother? "
"Yes, she was beautiful. Her skin was dark as polished bronze, and her hair was long and thick, black as a starless night and long to her elbows. My poor mother, even when she used peasant clothes, nothing could diminish her regal demeanour. Maybe it was only my young age, but she looked like a powerful princess to my eyes. Her name was Latifah, which meant gentle, and so she was. She sang to me in her native language, songs that told of incredible things so far away from us. She taught me to speak the Haradrim tongue, as well as other lore from ancient times."
"So even then you were instructed in the old knowledge? It's not wonder you succeeded in summoning me. I felt your power since the first time you called me, the smell of your blood talked about a tormented soul, yet it told me you were a strong one in the realm of magic. "
"Well, my mother always said our blood was special, that we were descended from powerful mages. She shared with me many of her secrets, about her past, living in an alkazar, surrounded by luxury and wealth. I recognize that when time passed I understood that they were mere fantasies. But in those times my dreams were filled with images from her tales. She even told me once that my real father was not Gálmód. Supposedly my father was a Djin, a kind of magical creature that had predicted I was meant to reach heights of power."
"Oh, that's interesting."
"What is interesting?"
"Djins are relatives with fairies. A southern branch of our extensive genealogic tree."
"So, you think my mother could be telling the truth?"
"Perhaps, though many Haradrims claim to be descendants of Djins, even when it is not true most of the time. Though there are some details in your story that makes me think. Come with me, Gríma, I will show you something."
She took my hand and guided me through the palace. Even when it was a chilly night, like most of they were in Shadowy Woods, the servants added timber to the fires inside the hearths and the corridors were filled with warmth. I had roamed through the stony hallways many times, but this place had many secret places that waited for being discovered.
After a long time walking hand in hand with Banshee, we arrived to an arcade I haven't seen before. The big wooden doors opened before us, at a wave from her hand. When we entered the chamber, the torches that hung from the walls lit up instantly.
I looked in wonder at the walls, where innumerable portraits looked at me with blind fairish eyes.
"Those are the portraits of many of the noble people of this land, my family, my brothers and sisters, and my mother."
I walked to the nearby portrait, where a beautiful fairy posed. She had long red hair, and eyes as blue as the ocean, she was wearing a simple circlet around her noble head, and a single jewel gleamed white as a star on her forehead. The lady in the painting had all the demeanour of an empress, her beauty was ethereal, and the sight of her filled my heart with warmth. I could not explain what I felt at that moment, but life has shown me that some feelings can't be described properly with words. "She is exquisite," I muttered to myself.
"She is my mother, Queen Mab. You said it well, she is exquisite, the only remnant of an age long time ago lost. She is the heart of Avalon, the Queen of all magic." Banshee lead me to the depths of the hall.
Along the way, I stole quick glimpses of the other paintings, where all kind of fair people were portrayed. Males and females, all looked so fascinating to me, and I wondered if someday my own picture would be hanging on these walls. I shook the idea from my head, because no one like me could compare to these people, so regal and handsome.
"Look at this picture, Gríma." Banshee was pointing to an especially big painting.
I walked towards it and had to blink several times. The man in the portrait was so alike me that I believed I was looking at a mirror. Though, in closer examination, I discovered my previous assumption was wrong. He was different, much different from me, shared some of my facial features, but they were composed in a more pleasant way. I reached my hand to the painting, and then looked at Banshee.
"He was my son, Mordred. He died five hundred years ago. Yes, Gríma, you look so much like him, as the people of Shadowy Woods do. People from this land came from the same bloodline as the Djins. Even I share some of that blood, though my mother's heritage bloomed stronger in me."
I looked at the portrait again, feeling suddenly a strange sensation nesting inside my chest. "You chose me as consort because I reminded you of your lost son?" This, more than a question was an affirmation.
"Yes and no. I loved you, since the first time my eyes lay on you. I felt compelled to you because you reminded me of my son. Though, as time passed, his image faded more and more, until all that was left was you. Then I fell in love with your intelligence, your hunger for knowledge, your shadowy self. My son didn't lacked all these traits, but his longing for power was even greater than yours. He sold his soul to Sauron in exchange for more magic. He was corrupted so easily. But he failed Sauron and this caused his death, as the Dark Lord was short when it came to forgiveness."
Banshee's eyes drifted towards Mordred's portrait and I could see tears forming in them. "I still can remember how I tried to convince him against such allegiance. My tears and suffering meant nothing to him He wanted to be a King, for his title as prince was not enough for him. His hunger for supremacy consumed him and lead him into darkness and death."
This time, I was the one who offered a shoulder to cry on. I felt her quiet sobs like a knife in my heart. The pain of losing her only son to the hands of the darkness had been unbearable. "I wish I could do something to make you feel better. My love, now I understand what is the source of your grief."
She slowly calmed, and when she finally looked me in the eyes I could see the regal disposition returning to her face. "You already did enough, when you let me help you out of the shadows. Besides, I know I did what I could for Mordred, but still hurts. He was too much like his father, proud and arrogant."
The mention of her previous consort made me wince. Yes, I knew she had shared her bed with another before me, but never had I confronted the reality of it so undeniably. After all, before my eyes, I could contemplate the fruit of such union. She had told me of this, an arranged union, just meant to produce an heir for the royal house. Though it didn't help to make my discomfort subside.
She noticed this and gave me a small smile. "Don't be troubled, Gríma, I swore love to you and you can be sure of it. I can't erase my past, but as it sounds, it is past. If I told you about Mordred's father it is because he was a Djin. And, as you can see, Mordred and you held some similarities."
I smiled, indeed, she loved me, and I needed no further proof of it. I looked at the portrait again. "So, maybe my mother was telling the truth. But if it was like that, why my real father never was concerned about how I fared?"
"Djins are a strange race, even though they are part of our kin, they live not in Avalon. Most of them moved to Harad long time ago. People from the southern lands use to worship to them, as if they were gods. Avalonian code forbids such things, and so they are only accepted rarely among our people. They do not care much for other races, and they use to feel superior to mortals because of the magic they posses. If a Djin is your father, then probably he felt you were a high honour conceded to your mother, and being a Haradrim, she felt the same."
"If it's so, I certainly want nothing to do with him. Powerful or not, he caused so much grief to my mother."
"I agree with you. Besides, you don't need to be afraid, by our union you are a Fairy, and have as much rights as the others, no less." She took my hand and guided me outside the room.
I slept well that night, after our conversation I felt totally reassured. Though my intuition was not failing me, something foul was in store for me.
TBC
(Sequel to the redemption of the dark ones)
First act Gríma's Point of view:
Black velvety sky above me, the soft ocean breeze under my feathered wings, and the pale face of the moon reflected on the dark waters of the sea. What simple yet wonderful pleasures; I was feeling in pure bliss. From the time of my second birth, when Banshee took me from the darkness of my grave and infused life in my body, I had been inundated with new sensations that both overwhelmed and delighted me. My hearing, and my sight, were as sharp as those of an Elf.
Who could imagine that I, Grima, son of Gálmód, better known as Wormtongue, would be someday as immortal and magical as an Elf?
Not my father, of course, who was always mulling over my uncommon appearance. "If he wasn't my only heir I would throw him from the nearest cliff. He is so weak and thin. Most of the boys of his age are taller than him by a head. "
Nor his sister, a horrendous widow with a reputation of having killed her husband. "You don't dare to do such a thing, remember we need him to lay claim on our father's inheritance. Though, I wish you had not been so stupid in mating his mother, that Haradrim whore. If only you have followed my advice and married the King's sister."
Nice people, both of them, talking of such things while I was in the room, as if I wasn't there, or was a kind of idiot who could not understand. I understood quite well my situation. It seemed my grandfather decided that my father should have a son in order to inherit the family estate. So, I was their only guarantee to put their greedy hands on the wealth left by the old man. I meant nothing to them, and the feeling was reciprocal.
I felt so relieved when they died. I still can smell the smoke rising from the cottage that was my home. I had enough time to save my skin. But my father and aunt didn't make it out the house, although, probably they were too drunk to even notice it was on fire.
The neighbours were so kind as to accuse me, a six-year-old boy, of burning down the house. Thankfully, the King's sister didn't pay attention to their stupid words. I may add the idea of killing my relatives had crossed my mind, but in that time I was too young and my heart had not darkened to that point yet.
Theoden's sister was so alike Éowyn, but she was all warmth and compassion. She even took me in her house when I was left alone in the world."We are almost there, my love."
Banshee's voice brought me back to the present.
She was barely some feet from me, her lean perfect form gliding in the air. To mortal eyes she would be invisible, but I could see her, a dark silhouette against the nocturnal sky, surrounded by a blue aura. Her face could compete in beauty and brightness with the moon. "Look ahead, Grima, the land of our kin, Avalon!"
I obeyed her command and gasped in awe. The island gleamed as a diamond against the black horizon.
She laughed, a clear exquisite sound, so new in her, yet so delightful. "I guess you are surprised by its beauty. Just wait until see our castle, then you will be more amazed."
A sudden current of wind came from the south, carrying a thick fog and pushing us away from our path. We tried to avoid it, edging our way upon the current. Then, a Fae, with silvery wings and a mane of long brown hair appeared floating before us.
I never saw someone as him before. He was suspended in midair, his hair waving wildly in the wind. He was impossibly slender, and I could swear his wings irradiated tendrils of light. His face was austere, his eyes of ebony were cold and I could feel them piercing holes in my soul.
"Do not worry, he is just Nothus, the guardian of the Southern wind," Banshee whispered to me, then addressed the stranger with her most dignified stance, "My brother, let us pass, for we are two tired Faeries looking forward to return home."
"I see the news brought by the sea birds are true, you have a new consort. I am happy for you, my sister. Go ahead, I shall not hinder your path anymore." His voice is sibilant and as cold as his eyes.
The wind ceased all of a sudden, and Nothus disappeared with it.
So, we arrived to the shores of Avalon, and once there, with my feet on the dock I looked in wonder the magnificent harbour. I had been at Belfalas bay before, and even went close to the Grey Havens, though my eyes never saw such a magical view. The Fairish white ships, with their silvery veils extended under the moonlight, was a sight taken from the most impossible dream. I calculated one of the ships from Belfalas would surely look like a little fisher's boat compared with the huge vessels anchored here.
"Even though I treasure the expression of surprise in your face, Grima, I am afraid we cannot linger here. There comes a company of wardens that will escort us to our home." She pointed towards the stone bridge that crossed the bay. I watched the company, they were a dozen of Fairies, males and females, dressed in dark tunics and leggings, and wrapped in crimson cloaks. I realized their hair were long to their elbows and as black as mine. The tallest one came toward us with the bridles of two black horses in his hands.
"My lady, we were expecting you and your husband, as Queen Mab commanded us to."
Banshee stood tall and dignified as the princess she was and took the bridles from him. She gave me one of the horses and climbed graciously on hers.
I may not look like a Rohirrim but I surely know how to ride. So I mounted in one swift single movement and followed her lead, towards the Shadowy Woods, my new home.
*****
I can say we rode all night, going deeper and deeper into the woods. Though I never sat before on a more comfortable saddle and never knew a horse with more a secure and balanced gallop. I knew it was running because I could hear the powerful hooves against the ground and feel the cold night wind against my face. But I never felt my body grow weary. To be honest, since my rebirth, I felt stronger, so probably that was the reason I was unaffected by our long ride. Besides, it was impossible for me to pay attention to a single thing when so many miracles developed before my eyes.
Shadowy Woods was an enchanted place. Thousand and thousand of ancient trees, with dark trunks lined at both sides of the main path. I swear I could hear them whispering to each other, and their mysterious talk mixed with the sounds of the nocturnal birds. It reminded me of Fangorn. This probably would have unnerved me before, but now it was filling me with reassurance. I saw eyes, strange eyes in the shadows, and deep vibrating voices. The Woods were alive, pulsing with energy, greeting us with a strange yet amusing salutation.
Then, I saw lights, passing by our way, they were as big torches of unnatural blue fire.
"Those are some of the pixies that live among the trees, they use such form when they travel. I hear they have a celebration going on, though they always are celebrating something. These woods are under our protection, but the Pixies help us to keep an eye on them." Banshee's eyes were glowing green with delight when she explained this to me.
I was just recovering from this surprise when a sudden silver gleam caught my attention. I looked at my right and saw many of these gleams running parallel to our path, through the ferns of the woods. Just for a second, I had a good glimpse of one of those animals, and its shape and movements were those of a wolf. A sudden howl made me shudder in fear, because it reminded me the hideous wargs that Saruman kept alive and fed with Orcish and sometimes human flesh inside the bowels of Orthanc. So many times he had threatened me with giving my dead body to them, that I could do nothing but wince.
"Those are wolves, white wolves. They are welcoming and escorting us. "
"Welcoming us?"
"Yes, their kin are loyal to our. Do not let their size deceive you they are not like wargs. They have lived here long time, and that's why the crest of our house has a silver wolf on a red field. The people of Avalon call us the Wolven people, and it's an honour to be called so. Someday I will introduce you with them, and maybe they will let you mount on their backs.
"I think I would decline such honour, my dear, I prefer horses very much, thank you."
She laughed and spurred her horse even harder.
I saw her, enthralled, her long legs, hardly covered by the black dress, pressing the flanks of the horse, her dark red tresses flaring wildly in the wind, her pale face like a second moon, lit up in joy and abandoned delight.
'How in the name of all gods I never noticed her alluring beauty before? How can I be so lucky as to have her heart?' I asked once again, because I had been asking this since the moment she made me hers.
*****
Astounding, was the only word that could describe the town of the Wolven people. We arrived there as soon as the sun appeared on the horizon. Just in time to look at the impressive black towers of the palace outlined against the pale blue sky. Orthanc could not compare to such a magnificent fortress. When we came close to the high circular wall that surrounded the city we heard the call of trumpets and horns. The huge doors opened and I almost fall from my horse when my eyes lay on the crowd that arranged tightly at both sides of the main street.
When our company entered the city, lead by Banshee, the people cheered with exalted cries and waved crimson handkerchiefs in the air.
Banshee came to my side and held my hand.
At the saluting cries of 'Hail Princess Banshee, Hail Prince Grima' my heart skipped a beat. 'Prince Grima?' Not only I was a Fae, I was a prince. My mind reeled in sync with the exalted cheers of the people... my people. I found myself waving to them, smiling like a fool, holding the hand of my beloved one.
"They love you, Grima," she leaned to my ear and whispered softly, making the hairs of my neck raise and my heart thump even harder inside my chest.
"I can see it, but why?" I asked, still waving to the welcoming people.
"Why? Because her princess has finally a consort. My joy is their joy. They expected this for long, and now it is happening. Your coming is a blessing to our lands."
*****
Banshee insisted that I needed rest, though it was impossible. How could I rest while so many things were happening around me? Besides, I was feeling vigorous as I never felt before in my entire life.
When the servants showed me the principal chamber, I looked in wonder the lot of my old things arranged neatly, just as they were in my old room back in Edoras. My books on ancient lore, the instruments I used to study the stars, my records... though I noticed none of my old clothes were present.
"I saved them for you, my dear. Even if you denied to come with me, I could not bear the idea of anybody scavenging through your things," Banshee said, then added "I didn't bring any of your robes, or other garments, but you will find plenty of new clothes in those drawers, and there is a hot bath prepared for you, behind that door."
Everything was just like a dream. Too much at the same time to stand it, I must say. But I took it very well until the moment she mentioned the bath. The truth has to be said, I was not so used to extensive cleansing. Back in Edoras, and living among the almost barbaric people of Rohan, I learned to deal with the basic idea of washing my body very rarely. It was not proper to wash oneself so thoroughly, or to be more clean then other men, it was considered a quite feminine custom. Though, if I was going to live here, I had to stick to the rules, and it seemed that the imperative rule was to be especially clean.
It took all my self control and determination to avoid feeling uncomfortable among the servants designated to help me in my grooming. I never had such attentions before, and felt embarrassed when they took of my garments. In that moment, I remembered that in my first night in Orthanc, I just let my lady undress me and all my shame disappeared under her ferocious attack. This memory helped to ease my doubts. For, if she had not found me so repulsive, then maybe I was not so disgusting as I myself had assumed.
So, I sighed in resignation and stepped inside the huge tub filled with steaming water. Oh, I had been missing so much! The wonderful sensation of warm water surrounding me, and the soft lather of aromatic soap and oils washing away the dirt, not only from my body but from my hair.
Once I was before the body sized mirror of the room, clean and dressed up in one of the outfits provided by Banshee I could do nothing but gasp. That one was not me! The sallow skin of my face was now almost marble white, and as soft as a polished stone. Within my irises, mixed with the pale blue, there were sparks of gold. My hair, now brushed and free of tangles, looked even darker and yet somehow bright, still a little wavy but nonetheless tamed beyond recognition. The clothes added a mysterious air to my form, the black brocade tunic, the leggings of deep blue and the leather boots up to my knees. The outfit was completed by a cape in the kingdom's colours: black on the inside and red on the outside.
"So, my dear, do you like what you see?" Banshee came to my side, touching my shoulder reassuringly. She was dressed regally, a black silky gown wrapping sensuously about her beautiful form. Her hair was now combed and the black circlet that announced her status was proudly crowning her head.
"Ask me that when I understand what has happened to me."
She just laughed quietly and embraced me.
Before I could notice she was kissing me, and my heart drummed like thunder inside my chest. All the finery and new appearances forgotten, all the magic of the realm and the events of the night thrown into oblivion. As I held her against me the entire world disappeared.
Our fine clothes were discarded in minutes and we made love with urges held in check for a long time. I took the lead, conquering her, as I desired to do since our first time.
So many times I had dreamed of doing this to the cold White Lady of Edoras. So long I had desired that pale statue with the golden mane, even when her beauty could only compare to her iciness. I was silly enough to believe her calm demeanour and lack of feelings would satisfy me.
I was so wrong, because once I tasted the pleasures of the flesh with my Dark Lady, I became obsessed of her attentions. I was crazy in love with the female under me. That fierce creature with fire in her hair and inside her womb. Banshee melted me and sent me into the stars again and again, while her acute howls pierced my ears with its delicious animalistic sounds. I cried out her name, feeling my body and soul burning.
"I love you," I whispered, when she was nestled in my arms, her long legs entangled with mine, the afterglow of our encounter still colouring her ivory cheeks.
"I love you too, my dark child," she answered, her eyelids half closed, and a genuine smile drawn in her blood red lips.
*****
It's strange how things sometimes arrange so neatly. When my life had been so difficult and uneasy all those years at Rohan, all of a sudden I found myself a prince of a rich land, with dozens of servants to attend my desires and a beautiful wife that loved me with all her heart.
It was no wonder why I was starting to feel insecure. I was standing on the balcony of my room, watching the nocturnal sky. The night was my favourite time, when I could think more clearly.
"What troubles you, love?" Banshee's soft hand pressed mine.
"It's nothing, my dear."
"You don't deceive me, I know your heart, remember?"
"I feel worried, uneasy. I've never been so happy, and I'm afraid. It's like all this calmness and happiness are a prelude to a disaster."
"My poor Grima, you are so used to live on the edge of a knife. Do not worry, I am here at your side, and nothing can harm you."
"I know. But still, I can't help it. I haven't feel like this since I was just a five-year-old child."
"Tell me about it, maybe this could help to ease your worries." She sat on the stony edge of the balcony and looked at me with her gleaming eyes.
"Those years were the happiest times in my life, until now, that's it. I was poor, very poor, but my mother always found a way to put bread in our table. Only when I had grown up did I realized that sometimes she had to sell her body to feed me. Though I never considered her a whore, because she only did what she could to keep us alive. Being a Haradrim woman was hard, especially in a land where the differences were not subtle. Maybe if we had lived in Gondor, where blood had mixed so much and many of the Gondorrim people were as dark skinned as my mother, the situation could have had another solution. But in Rohan, few people dared to employ her for the harvest or other kinds of work. Southern people had always been Rohirrim's foes, and nobody was clever enough to notice a poor woman with a child meant no harm to them."
"I loved her so much, so, when she got ill and her life consumed in less than a month, I felt all my happiness drawn from my soul. My father coming for me only added grief to my already battered spirit. Maybe this joy I feel right now reminds me of the beautiful days I lived with my mother, and I fear that someone or something is lurking in the shadows, waiting to take away all of it, again." I felt a knot of tears ready to be shed. And when Banshee embraced me and stroked my back, I could do nothing but obey the desires of my heart, and cry like a child. After many long minutes, I finally felt a little relieved.
"I didn't know that part of your life. You never told me about it. I suspected your heritage were not entirely from the Rohirrim, though I never imagined you were half Haradrim. So, your black hair is a gift from your mother? "
"Yes, she was beautiful. Her skin was dark as polished bronze, and her hair was long and thick, black as a starless night and long to her elbows. My poor mother, even when she used peasant clothes, nothing could diminish her regal demeanour. Maybe it was only my young age, but she looked like a powerful princess to my eyes. Her name was Latifah, which meant gentle, and so she was. She sang to me in her native language, songs that told of incredible things so far away from us. She taught me to speak the Haradrim tongue, as well as other lore from ancient times."
"So even then you were instructed in the old knowledge? It's not wonder you succeeded in summoning me. I felt your power since the first time you called me, the smell of your blood talked about a tormented soul, yet it told me you were a strong one in the realm of magic. "
"Well, my mother always said our blood was special, that we were descended from powerful mages. She shared with me many of her secrets, about her past, living in an alkazar, surrounded by luxury and wealth. I recognize that when time passed I understood that they were mere fantasies. But in those times my dreams were filled with images from her tales. She even told me once that my real father was not Gálmód. Supposedly my father was a Djin, a kind of magical creature that had predicted I was meant to reach heights of power."
"Oh, that's interesting."
"What is interesting?"
"Djins are relatives with fairies. A southern branch of our extensive genealogic tree."
"So, you think my mother could be telling the truth?"
"Perhaps, though many Haradrims claim to be descendants of Djins, even when it is not true most of the time. Though there are some details in your story that makes me think. Come with me, Gríma, I will show you something."
She took my hand and guided me through the palace. Even when it was a chilly night, like most of they were in Shadowy Woods, the servants added timber to the fires inside the hearths and the corridors were filled with warmth. I had roamed through the stony hallways many times, but this place had many secret places that waited for being discovered.
After a long time walking hand in hand with Banshee, we arrived to an arcade I haven't seen before. The big wooden doors opened before us, at a wave from her hand. When we entered the chamber, the torches that hung from the walls lit up instantly.
I looked in wonder at the walls, where innumerable portraits looked at me with blind fairish eyes.
"Those are the portraits of many of the noble people of this land, my family, my brothers and sisters, and my mother."
I walked to the nearby portrait, where a beautiful fairy posed. She had long red hair, and eyes as blue as the ocean, she was wearing a simple circlet around her noble head, and a single jewel gleamed white as a star on her forehead. The lady in the painting had all the demeanour of an empress, her beauty was ethereal, and the sight of her filled my heart with warmth. I could not explain what I felt at that moment, but life has shown me that some feelings can't be described properly with words. "She is exquisite," I muttered to myself.
"She is my mother, Queen Mab. You said it well, she is exquisite, the only remnant of an age long time ago lost. She is the heart of Avalon, the Queen of all magic." Banshee lead me to the depths of the hall.
Along the way, I stole quick glimpses of the other paintings, where all kind of fair people were portrayed. Males and females, all looked so fascinating to me, and I wondered if someday my own picture would be hanging on these walls. I shook the idea from my head, because no one like me could compare to these people, so regal and handsome.
"Look at this picture, Gríma." Banshee was pointing to an especially big painting.
I walked towards it and had to blink several times. The man in the portrait was so alike me that I believed I was looking at a mirror. Though, in closer examination, I discovered my previous assumption was wrong. He was different, much different from me, shared some of my facial features, but they were composed in a more pleasant way. I reached my hand to the painting, and then looked at Banshee.
"He was my son, Mordred. He died five hundred years ago. Yes, Gríma, you look so much like him, as the people of Shadowy Woods do. People from this land came from the same bloodline as the Djins. Even I share some of that blood, though my mother's heritage bloomed stronger in me."
I looked at the portrait again, feeling suddenly a strange sensation nesting inside my chest. "You chose me as consort because I reminded you of your lost son?" This, more than a question was an affirmation.
"Yes and no. I loved you, since the first time my eyes lay on you. I felt compelled to you because you reminded me of my son. Though, as time passed, his image faded more and more, until all that was left was you. Then I fell in love with your intelligence, your hunger for knowledge, your shadowy self. My son didn't lacked all these traits, but his longing for power was even greater than yours. He sold his soul to Sauron in exchange for more magic. He was corrupted so easily. But he failed Sauron and this caused his death, as the Dark Lord was short when it came to forgiveness."
Banshee's eyes drifted towards Mordred's portrait and I could see tears forming in them. "I still can remember how I tried to convince him against such allegiance. My tears and suffering meant nothing to him He wanted to be a King, for his title as prince was not enough for him. His hunger for supremacy consumed him and lead him into darkness and death."
This time, I was the one who offered a shoulder to cry on. I felt her quiet sobs like a knife in my heart. The pain of losing her only son to the hands of the darkness had been unbearable. "I wish I could do something to make you feel better. My love, now I understand what is the source of your grief."
She slowly calmed, and when she finally looked me in the eyes I could see the regal disposition returning to her face. "You already did enough, when you let me help you out of the shadows. Besides, I know I did what I could for Mordred, but still hurts. He was too much like his father, proud and arrogant."
The mention of her previous consort made me wince. Yes, I knew she had shared her bed with another before me, but never had I confronted the reality of it so undeniably. After all, before my eyes, I could contemplate the fruit of such union. She had told me of this, an arranged union, just meant to produce an heir for the royal house. Though it didn't help to make my discomfort subside.
She noticed this and gave me a small smile. "Don't be troubled, Gríma, I swore love to you and you can be sure of it. I can't erase my past, but as it sounds, it is past. If I told you about Mordred's father it is because he was a Djin. And, as you can see, Mordred and you held some similarities."
I smiled, indeed, she loved me, and I needed no further proof of it. I looked at the portrait again. "So, maybe my mother was telling the truth. But if it was like that, why my real father never was concerned about how I fared?"
"Djins are a strange race, even though they are part of our kin, they live not in Avalon. Most of them moved to Harad long time ago. People from the southern lands use to worship to them, as if they were gods. Avalonian code forbids such things, and so they are only accepted rarely among our people. They do not care much for other races, and they use to feel superior to mortals because of the magic they posses. If a Djin is your father, then probably he felt you were a high honour conceded to your mother, and being a Haradrim, she felt the same."
"If it's so, I certainly want nothing to do with him. Powerful or not, he caused so much grief to my mother."
"I agree with you. Besides, you don't need to be afraid, by our union you are a Fairy, and have as much rights as the others, no less." She took my hand and guided me outside the room.
I slept well that night, after our conversation I felt totally reassured. Though my intuition was not failing me, something foul was in store for me.
TBC