Disclaimer:
I own none of the characters mentioned within this story. They all belong
the genius, JRR Tolkien who by writing all his miraculous literary works,
has given us LOTR fans a chance to experience and dream of a breathtaking
world somewhat very different our own. For this I am sure that all LOTR
etc fans will join me in applauding this great professor whose books and
stories will live on in and around our hearts forever.
Return Strikes
Éowyn's POV:
I watched as the horsemen departed for the scout border watch. Yet that's all I seem to do now, watch. I watched as my cousin, Théodred was wounded and died. I watched as my friends departed Edoras many years ago, I watched as Snake polluted my Uncle's mind with evil. Ah yes. Cursed Snake. Vile, treacherous creature that he is. Sneaking, creeping in the shadows. Traitor he is and always will be. I have often wanted to avenge my cousin's death. I just have a gut feeling that Snake had a hand in his demise. Sometimes when Snake is attempting to charm me into a life of ruin, I am on the verge of wrenching my sword from it's sheath and plunging it right through Snake's overblack heart.
But I never do. Maybe I'm just to weak to face murder or perhaps I do pity him slightly, though I cannot in, all the ages of Middle-Earth see why I would. Yet as I sit here and the sun sinks behind the mountains, I seem to be thinking more and more about Théodred's death. Before I realise what I am doing, I am walking down the corridor to Gríma's chambers, my hand shaking as I touch the hilt of my sword.
I am now entering his chambers. I see him lying there asleep, with that psychotic smirk still pinned to his face. The mere thought of the times he has used that smirk when dealing with his treachery; just maddens me even more.
As I inch softly towards the bed, my heart is thumping continuously in my throat, and I am surprised it hasn't awoken him. I unsheath my sword and stand over the bed clutching it. I am now shaking all over from fear and disbelief at what I am about to do. I shut my eyes tight hoping that I won't be plagued by ghosts of the memory of tonight.
Suddenly a feel a cold hand, close tight upon my sword-wielding wrist. My eyes snap open and I see that Snake is awake, staring blank faced at me in utter confusion and fright, his face ghastly white with fear I am not aware of deciding to do it, or even thinking about doing it, but as I stare into those icicle filled eyes and they stare back into my light blue ones, I hear my sword, clattering to the stone floor.
Snake releases his grip on my wrist and I sink onto my knees, with silent tears flooding in streams down my face. I stare wide-eyed at the chipped stone floor as though intrigued imensly by it, but I am not really seeing it at all. What have I done? I sense his hand resting on my shoulder and for the first time ever, I do not push it off or pull away. " I understand why" I hear him say gently. "How can you?" I reply, not taking my eyes off the now tear splattered stones. "Because I have been through exactly what you are going through now. I had, and still have the same feelings that you have now, Éowyn. The feeling of loneliness and envy when everyone else around you seems so happy and carefree. Knowing that the very people who have caused you so much fear and pain, will go free without punishment. That's how I know why you were attempting to kill me. But do you honestly think that when I look at you, I feel only lust, No, Éowyn for I see in you, what I have always seen in myself. The difference is, you can escape from it's claws. I never want to see another go through what I went through as a child, that is why I wish to help you Éowyn. If you will let me."
I look up into his eyes and see that the fear is no longer in them. Instead, they are lit with a spark of happiness that he can finally feel of value to someone who needs him, and I know I need his help. I don't know how I know or why I do, but all I know is that for the first time in the whole time I have known Snake, I firmly believed he was not trying to trick me. I nodded, "Yes Gríma, I do need you"
"NO!!!" An enraged yell sounded from outside Gríma's chambers. We looked at each other for a few frantic seconds until I realised who was the source of the yell. Éomer came striding into the room towards us, his face showing the upmost anger like the wrath of a storm. I suddenly realise that the sound of my sword, crashing to the floor must have alerted him. He pulled me from Gríma's hold, unsheathed a dagger from beneath his cloak and pressed it to Gríma's pale throat. The fear showed more than ever in his ice filled eyes, but he still said, "Tell me what I have done against the Lord Éomer's wishes that would make him to be so displeased as to kill me!" "Done?" whispered Éomer with venom in his voice, You have poisoned these lands with your very presence, Wormtongue and I have been forced to live with it. But now I see you taking advantage of my sister I can no longer hide away my aversion towards you.
"You misunderstand my intentions greatly my Lord Éomer" said Gríma. I stood there in the corner, watching them both whispering words of ill wish to one another, and again I realise I am still doing what I have for so many long years. Watching. I cannot take Gríma's look of pain and consternation anymore. I tear forward and jerk my brother's hand from Gríma's throat. But as I do so, I feel the worst pain across my own throat, then a sensation of warm liquid, running down my neck. I look down. My head is spinning so much and the pain too immense, that I can barely here the scream that came from my mouth when I saw what the knife, which had been meant for Gríma had done to me.
My vision is going blurry, and I can just make out Gríma, kneeling down next to me, and hear Éomer's anguished sobs. I felt a shaking hand come to rest upon my cheek. "Éowyn?" I hear Gríma say through the obvious thickness of tears. "Éowyn, I am so sorry, I never." his words trailed off from my ears as I fell asleep.
Return Strikes
Éowyn's POV:
I watched as the horsemen departed for the scout border watch. Yet that's all I seem to do now, watch. I watched as my cousin, Théodred was wounded and died. I watched as my friends departed Edoras many years ago, I watched as Snake polluted my Uncle's mind with evil. Ah yes. Cursed Snake. Vile, treacherous creature that he is. Sneaking, creeping in the shadows. Traitor he is and always will be. I have often wanted to avenge my cousin's death. I just have a gut feeling that Snake had a hand in his demise. Sometimes when Snake is attempting to charm me into a life of ruin, I am on the verge of wrenching my sword from it's sheath and plunging it right through Snake's overblack heart.
But I never do. Maybe I'm just to weak to face murder or perhaps I do pity him slightly, though I cannot in, all the ages of Middle-Earth see why I would. Yet as I sit here and the sun sinks behind the mountains, I seem to be thinking more and more about Théodred's death. Before I realise what I am doing, I am walking down the corridor to Gríma's chambers, my hand shaking as I touch the hilt of my sword.
I am now entering his chambers. I see him lying there asleep, with that psychotic smirk still pinned to his face. The mere thought of the times he has used that smirk when dealing with his treachery; just maddens me even more.
As I inch softly towards the bed, my heart is thumping continuously in my throat, and I am surprised it hasn't awoken him. I unsheath my sword and stand over the bed clutching it. I am now shaking all over from fear and disbelief at what I am about to do. I shut my eyes tight hoping that I won't be plagued by ghosts of the memory of tonight.
Suddenly a feel a cold hand, close tight upon my sword-wielding wrist. My eyes snap open and I see that Snake is awake, staring blank faced at me in utter confusion and fright, his face ghastly white with fear I am not aware of deciding to do it, or even thinking about doing it, but as I stare into those icicle filled eyes and they stare back into my light blue ones, I hear my sword, clattering to the stone floor.
Snake releases his grip on my wrist and I sink onto my knees, with silent tears flooding in streams down my face. I stare wide-eyed at the chipped stone floor as though intrigued imensly by it, but I am not really seeing it at all. What have I done? I sense his hand resting on my shoulder and for the first time ever, I do not push it off or pull away. " I understand why" I hear him say gently. "How can you?" I reply, not taking my eyes off the now tear splattered stones. "Because I have been through exactly what you are going through now. I had, and still have the same feelings that you have now, Éowyn. The feeling of loneliness and envy when everyone else around you seems so happy and carefree. Knowing that the very people who have caused you so much fear and pain, will go free without punishment. That's how I know why you were attempting to kill me. But do you honestly think that when I look at you, I feel only lust, No, Éowyn for I see in you, what I have always seen in myself. The difference is, you can escape from it's claws. I never want to see another go through what I went through as a child, that is why I wish to help you Éowyn. If you will let me."
I look up into his eyes and see that the fear is no longer in them. Instead, they are lit with a spark of happiness that he can finally feel of value to someone who needs him, and I know I need his help. I don't know how I know or why I do, but all I know is that for the first time in the whole time I have known Snake, I firmly believed he was not trying to trick me. I nodded, "Yes Gríma, I do need you"
"NO!!!" An enraged yell sounded from outside Gríma's chambers. We looked at each other for a few frantic seconds until I realised who was the source of the yell. Éomer came striding into the room towards us, his face showing the upmost anger like the wrath of a storm. I suddenly realise that the sound of my sword, crashing to the floor must have alerted him. He pulled me from Gríma's hold, unsheathed a dagger from beneath his cloak and pressed it to Gríma's pale throat. The fear showed more than ever in his ice filled eyes, but he still said, "Tell me what I have done against the Lord Éomer's wishes that would make him to be so displeased as to kill me!" "Done?" whispered Éomer with venom in his voice, You have poisoned these lands with your very presence, Wormtongue and I have been forced to live with it. But now I see you taking advantage of my sister I can no longer hide away my aversion towards you.
"You misunderstand my intentions greatly my Lord Éomer" said Gríma. I stood there in the corner, watching them both whispering words of ill wish to one another, and again I realise I am still doing what I have for so many long years. Watching. I cannot take Gríma's look of pain and consternation anymore. I tear forward and jerk my brother's hand from Gríma's throat. But as I do so, I feel the worst pain across my own throat, then a sensation of warm liquid, running down my neck. I look down. My head is spinning so much and the pain too immense, that I can barely here the scream that came from my mouth when I saw what the knife, which had been meant for Gríma had done to me.
My vision is going blurry, and I can just make out Gríma, kneeling down next to me, and hear Éomer's anguished sobs. I felt a shaking hand come to rest upon my cheek. "Éowyn?" I hear Gríma say through the obvious thickness of tears. "Éowyn, I am so sorry, I never." his words trailed off from my ears as I fell asleep.