Disclaimer: it's all Professor's fault!
Rating: "R" for "Romance"
Pairing: unusual
Based on: partly book, partly movie (TTT)
Beautiful is the land of Rohan, so fair with its plains and green hills, with its endless sky, blue and gold at the dawn, crimson at the dusk. When you look upon it from the high tower of Meduseld, the Golden Hall of Eorlingas, your heart baths in joy and grace, that fill air and earth and water of this land, and all of its creatures. What land fits to be the cradle of Light better than this one, giving birth to those beautiful horses, truest among all animals? But then black winds will come upon your face, and like a worm, chill will find its way to your very core. Then you will feel ghost of Evil, flying on the wings of these severe winds, haunting these fair hills, slithering to every heart, ensnaring minds and bewitching senses of all living here. And then you will know: this land, gorgeous as it is, cradles not Light, but Darkness.
They call me White Lady of Rohan, and I am indeed its daughter, its flesh and blood; in my heart, I bear its light - and its darkness, and my eyes enjoy not only gracefulness of horses in the meadows, but swiftness of vipers in the grass as well. I sense darkness, like a noble horse senses blood, and, almost like horse, I lose my control to this sensation. Almost, for I have the will and the power to withstand. But sometimes I wonder - why do I have to protect my light that fiercely, when touch of darkness feels so right for me?
From the very first time I laid my eye upon him, I knew he was Dark. His lean figure, clad in black, raven locks of his hair, snakish features of pale face, dark depths of his eyes, and most of all his voice, soft and sweet and enchanting - everything in him was branded by Evil. Maybe others didn't see him through outright, like I did, giving themselves to his poisonous charms and his caressing words; but for them, too, it didn't take long to see the essence of snake in him. Too late it was, alas, because Grima, son of Galmod, had enough time to gain power over King Theoden's mind, before they started calling him his true name.
Wormtongue they called him; but for me, he was always Snake. For too many times I watched him carefully, when he didn't see it. But for too many times, his eyes caught mine, and every time this happened, I seemed to become entranced by his gaze. And for many times I could tell he was looking at me, not even rising up my head - for his very stare felt upon my skin.
For many times, wandering around the castle during sleepless nights, I turned around only to see dark shadow melting in even more profound darkness. And for many times I struggled urge to approach this darkness and speak up to it.
It was some time before Snake dared to draw near me.
One day I was standing on the top of tower - observing spot I used to enjoy best of all - when he appeared behind me, bowing and smiling his usual serpentine smile.
"What a charming view, my lady," he purred, approaching. "Indeed, the land of Rohan is one of the most beautiful in the world."
"Yes, it is," I answered coldly, "though I have nothing to compare with."
"Oh, but you can believe my word here. I traveled quite a lot."
He paused; while my curiosity was struggling with my disliking of Grima for asking about his travels, he was staring at the chain of high hills in the distance. At last he broke the silence.
"Have you ever dreamed about leaving Rohan, my lady?"
I thought for a while before answering.
"Yes, I did. I would love to see other lands."
"Why? Do you think there is anything of interest there?"
"Well, it must be. I cannot imagine any land completely uninteresting."
He chuckled.
"There are many things unimaginable in this world, my lady. But here you are right. The grace of Creator could be seen in every piece of the land, but some places are blessed with it more than others. Just like people."
I looked at his pale unattractive face; did he really care about his physical imperfection?
"Well," I said, "it is not beautiful appearance that makes person beautiful; only beautiful soul does."
Grima glanced at me with some curiosity.
"You think so, my lady? But how beautiful soul can develop in ugly body?"
"And why not? If person is smart, and kind, and..."
He laughed, and I frowned.
"Have I said something funny?"
"Oh, forgive me, my lady. But I cannot agree with you. Ugly person may be clever - because wit is best developed in struggle for living; but kindness is not. Ugly child will always be beaten before he can show his inner qualities - just because he is ugly. And no matter how kind he is by nature - he will always grow up evil."
"So you say that all ugly people are evil?"
"Well, mostly. There always must be a couple of exceptions out there. But I personally never had a chance to meet at least one."
I frowned again.
"Wait, there is something wrong here. People don't choose appearance they are born with. And according to you, if person is born ugly, he or she is doomed to serve Evil? If we continue such reflections, we might then come to a conclusion that all ugly children should be killed at once."
"They say there are tribes who have such practice," Grima observed. "And I cannot say they are very wrong," he added bitterly.
Before I voiced my objections to these outrageous statements, he turned to me, and, taking my hand, brought it to his lips. I gasped as his lips brushed against the back of my palm, and he immediately released me.
"It was a pleasure talking to you, my lady. I beg your pardon for interrupting your solitude," he said, and left in a whirl of black cloak behind him.
For no apparent reason, I dwelled upon this conversation with the Counsellor longer than I should, going through it again and again in my mind. For the effect Grima's words - and mere presence - had on me, I couldn't find feasible explanation. He was in the same time repelling and attractive; he was evil, undoubtedly, but there was something in him that aroused my curiosity. I wished I had another chance to talk to him, but in the latter time he was too preoccupied with the matters of state, and it was certainly impossible for me to seek his company first.
***
Theoden, my uncle, got unexpectedly ill. He was not young man, surely, but on my memory his health never betrayed him; and now he was getting more and more senile with each next day. I suspected Grima's hand here - more instinctively, than sensibly. I watched carefully after everything my uncle ate and drunk, but didn't notice anything that would give me proof of Snake's fault. He must had noticed this, but it only seemed to amuse him; in his demeanor towards me, some teasing challenge appeared. Never before he was this annoying to me; there were moments when I almost lost my control to burning desire of hitting him hard in that serpentine physiognomy of his. One of such moments happened once during the dinner; I was pouring my uncle some wine in his goblet, when I felt familiar stare. I glanced up to meet Snake's gaze, and this was enough - wine shed on tablecloth, decanter hit the goblet and upset it. Blasted Snake! I was sure he had done this on purpose. For a moment I was struggling urge to throw goblet at him, he was already near me, ordering servants to clean up the mess.
"Do you feel well, my lady?"
His anxious inquiry sounded like a mockery. Before I found suitable words to answer, he took me by the hand and led out of chamber; uncle Theoden didn't even seem to notice the incident.
When in the corridor, Grima escorted me to the nearest bench, and, putting his hands on my shoulders, made me sit down and sat himself. Piercing me with his black gaze, he asked,
"Is there something troubling you, my lady?"
"You!" I spat out thoughtlessly; this was very careless, but I couldn't stop myself.
"You and your vile presence, poisoning the very air in this castle! I wish someone could purge this place of you, evil Snake!"
I panted, and felt my cheeks blushing violently. Never before had I allowed myself such rudeness; but Grima didn't look offended.
"Indeed," he drawled, "I cannot object you, my lady. You saw my essence correctly. Now what? What shall you be doing, my fair warrior, to purge this place of my vile presence? Kill me, crumble my skull with that goblet?"
"How?.."
"Oh, it was ve-ery obvious. Or, maybe you shall bestow this pleasant responsibility upon your cousin? Or your mindless brother?"
"How dare you!"
He caught me by the arms before I stroke him.
"Behave, my lady!" Grima hissed. "Such attitude is disgrace for the royal blood!"
He released me, and stood up.
"If you are so attracted by evil, my lady, that it makes your hands shaky and your self-control that loose, here is a valuable piece of advice for you. Look at Light. Not to risk losing yourself to ugly Snake, give yourself to fair Prince. He should like it."
And with his usual swiftness, Grima disappeared.
The shame I felt for my inexcusable behavior was burning. No matter how right I was in my accusations, I had absolutely no justification in lowering myself to the level of my opponent. No matter how just my words were, to speak them aloud was unconditional folly. No matter what Grima deserved... But I also had to admit he was right in his last words, too. Darkness almost maddened me. I was too taken with it; I needed Light to find my redemption.
I have heard the call of Darkness before. First time it befell me was after my parents' deaths. Being but a child then, I painfully wondered why my brother and myself were left all alone in this world. Was it punishment for something? I scrutinized all my deeds, and interrogated Eomer with the severity of judge; but neither in his nor in my own actions had I found anything deserving horrible penalty we received. And then I thought: why should I keep trying being a good girl, when this far it brought me no other reward but leaving me orphaned?
That time my uncle saved me; and ever since he became the first one I turned to, whenever similar doubts were beginning to haunt my thoughts again. King Theoden always seemed the brightest light to me; but now this light dimmed. And, besides, now situation was different. If before I seemed to be attracted by abstract evil, now - I realized to my own shame and horror - it was certain son of Darkness who fascinated me. I doubted that my uncle, even in his best time, would have understood me; but, to my luck, his son was there.
Theodred was always a friend to my brother and me. In fact, I thought of him as of my second brother. But now Grima's words made me look at him with different eyes.
Theodred was obviously surprised with my changed attitude towards him, but this was a happy surprise. We began to spend more time together, and Eomer, noticing my intentions, took habit of leaving us alone under various plausible excuses. We enjoyed each other's company very much, and my healing proceeded well. Grima kept good distance from me, and I almost stopped thinking about him. I already entertained myself with thoughts about our future life with Theodred, when all of it suddenly ended.
That day I was again on the top of tower, looking for Theodred and Eomer to return; they had left for regular raid two days before, and today they had to be back. Too engrossed in observing the plain before me, I nearly cried of surprise when Grima appeared behind, seemingly out of thin air.
"My lady," he greeted me courtly, and I answered with slight bow.
"Are you waiting for Prince Theodred and your brother to come back?"
I nodded my asset.
"Will you allow your humble servant to stay here with you for a while?"
"This tower is not my private chamber," I answered as indifferently as possible, "you may stay here as long as you like."
"Oh, thank you, my lady," he said, accompanying his words with a deep bow. This man was mocking me again, but today I was not to be provoked. I simply stepped aside and returned to my former occupation. For some time, no word befell between us. Then Grima said, addressing not me, but some point at the horizon only he knew,
"How easy it is to follow your fate, don't you think, my lady?"
"I don't quite understand you, Counsellor."
"Really? But why, my lady, this is so obvious," Grima now was standing right behind me, and I was compelled to turn around and face him.
"Beautiful princess was destined to love handsome prince, in spite of how thoughtless and plain he was. Beautiful princess shouldn't have turned her eyes to the dark evil ugly snake; when she did so, it brought her only frustration, no matter how she liked their conversations and how she longed for his touch. And disgusting snake shouldn't have ever allowed himself slightest hope to reach out for the light that looked so promising. His doom was to stay in the darkness forever, for darkness was native to him. No matter what their true desires were, their choices were already made for them. Fate is simple thing to explain, my lady," he observed, and then took a strand of my hair in his hand. Toying with it, he proceeded, "but there are things that are not. Namely, why on earth miserable worm still craves for the fair light? And, which is even more unexplainable, why fair princess listens to evil snake's hissing so eagerly?"
I felt spellbound. I knew I had to say something, to push away his hand, and all the best - to run away from him as fast as possible, but I couldn't. Suddenly blowing of horn reached our ears; the spell was broken. Grima stepped aside, and I rushed downstairs to meet my brother - and Theodred, who was brought unconscious. The unit has been ambushed by orcs.
I badly remember the rest of that day. We brought Theodred to his chamber, called for healer, and hasted to the King. While Eomer was reporting to him, uncle seemed to be somewhere else with his mind. His eyes remained closed for most of time, but even when they were opened, no thought was reflected there. Then Grima appeared; he declined all charges against Saruman that Eomer voiced before the King; word after word, and there was my brother, assaulting King's Counsellor before King's very throne. I could not stand this and fled; I waited for my brother in the corridor, but when he appeared, escorted by guards, we didn't even have a word. Eomer was banished from the kingdom, and left that very hour with his men. I was left alone to the upcoming sleepless nights, full of fear for Theodred's life, and feeble hope, dying away, and my own nearing sentence.
***
In a few days, Theodred was gone. Kneeling at his bedside, I cried, but in the back of my mind, tricky question was pending. What it was that I cried for: his life, or the flickering light I was loosing?
I sensed him before my eyes caught moving of his shadow on the floor. Darkness felt my weakening too soon, and came over me. Here was its son, kneeling beside me, speaking quietly,
"Prince must have died sometime in the night. What a tragedy it is for the King to lose his only son and heir... and for my lady to lose her friend... especially now, when her brother has deserted her." Grima's hand landed upon my shoulder, and it was warm. I noticed how slender his fingers were before standing up abruptly.
"Live me alone, Snake!" I cried and wanted to run away, but couldn't.
"But you are alone," - Grima smirked, rising up and approaching me.
"No one hears you talking to the darkness during your sleepless night watches. Your life is shrinking to the size of your chamber, and walls of your tower surround you closer and closer..."
Dumbfounded, I listened as Grima repeated my own words I must have carelessly dropped during one of such sleepless patrols, while he was circling me, like predator its prey.
"And Darkness seems the only thing to come. But what kind of musing is this for a young lady like you, so fair..." and, accompanying these words, tips of his fingers touched my cheek, tracing up and down the jawline slowly, tenderly, making my head spin and eyes close.
"...So cold, like a morning mountain brook, and so pure... yet."
His hand traveled down my throat and rested on collarbone; was it its weight that made breathing thus difficult for me? I felt his locks touching my face, and, in spite of dizziness, opened my eyes.
What power in the world brought our lips this close? How it happened that his other hand lies on my waist?! How could it be that despised Wormtongue was almost kissing me, and I almost have melted in his arms?
Grima watched anxiously as this realization was dawning on my face, and it made him loosen his embrace. Still light-headed, I mastered myself somehow.
"Your words are poison," was all I could say, not hearing my own words because of blood pounding in my temples heavily, and ran out of the chamber, stumbling at the threshold.
There was windy and cold outside, but I welcomed touches of raging air upon my flushing cheeks. Wind was playing with my hair, and gradually I regained my control. I noticed the group of equestrians at the city gates - but that moment nothings told me these people were carrying news, which would change my life forever.
Before sunset palace seemed utterly changed. My uncle was not senile old man anymore; he returned to his usual good health, and his usual self, too. Shackles of Saruman's charms were broken, passiveness and sleepiness gone; all of the court was buzzing like a disturbed swarm. Decisions were made and swords prepared for war. I was put in charge of townsfolk, whom I was to lead in the safety of Dunharrow. And Grima was put before the choice of his true master, and this choice he has made. I was safe from his charms now.
We arrived to Dunharrow without unwanted adventures and settled there, as comfortably as we could. My days were full of hundreds of tasks and activities; I was the head of the community, and I liked it. I always played some role in Meduseld, but my role was never leading. Now there was a chance for me to get enough of leadership. With no surprise to anybody, I managed things well, though they were taking more of my powers than I had expected. Every evening I was so tired, that hardly understood what I was eating for dinner; and my insomnia was gone now. If it wasn't torturing fear for our men, who were fighting with Saruman's armies, I would have called my days at Dunharrow happy ones.
But soon to the fear for our warriors, which I shared with all of my people, another burden befell on my shoulders. And this burden was all my own to carry.
Cursed Snake somehow found his way into my dreams. And with him, dreams were not like dreams anymore; they seemed to be real, and the only thing that differed them from reality was my own behavior, which sometimes was so strange, that I could neither understand it, nor explain.
When it happened for the first time, I dreamed about myself being in the armory; I was practicing throwing daggers, and somehow it happened that I cut myself. I sat down on the floor to sooth my wound, when someone appeared sitting on the floor behind me; I leant back on him, as if it was very right thing to do. The man (for it was obviously a man) took my wounded hand and kissed it; and as if by magic, my hand was immediately whole again. But I didn't want to take it away from him, and the man proceeded with his ministrations, in the same time circling his other arm around my waist and holding me closer to him. Unusual pleasure came over me, like a wave; never in my life I felt anything as good as this sensation. I turned back my head slightly, seeking for man's lips, but the very moment I saw his face made me shriek and rush away from him. I jumped up on my feet and snatched a dagger from the table; holding it before me, I cried at the intruder,
"Begone, Snake!"
Grima rose up from the floor; he didn't seem at all scared.
"Why, my lady," he smirked, "and I thought you were glad to have me by your side again."
"Oh, but how far your madness proceeded! Glad?! You disgust me!"
"Really? This is strange, indeed, my lady. For the expression I saw on your beautiful face during our last encounter, was ve-ery far from disgust. And from what I have seen just now..."
"Stop corrupting me, Wormtongue!"
"Corrupting you? So the light side in your heart is so weak, that it is afraid of a few simple touches? A few words? Correct me if I mistake, my lady, but as long as I can remember, even during our private moments I never allowed myself anything more than a brotherly attitude..."
"You are not my brother!" I spat out.
"Thanks heavens, I am not. But had I ever done anything to offend my reverence for you?"
"Reverence? Are you mocking me?"
"Ah. We are disappointed, are we, my lady?.. If it is not reverence, what is it, then?"
"Lust!"
He stepped away from me, bowing slightly.
"As you wish it, my lady. And I cannot say you are very wrong about it. I desire you, and I admit it. But what about you, my fair princess? What is it that makes you lose yourself to my touches every time? What is it, that even now you look upon my lips, not in my eyes?" Seeing my bewilderment, he added, "Think of this well, my lady. You may find the result of such pondering ve-ery interesting," and with these words, Grima disappeared, leaving me in the otherwise empty darkness of my dream.
That morning I woke up feeling ill. I hardly got up and dressed. As usual, I went to the kitchen to check for breakfast being prepared. Everything seemed to be well there, so I proceeded to the stables. Fresh morning air seemed to help me, but when I came back to the house, I stumbled and almost fell down; worried maids helped me to return to my chamber, where I went back to bed. It was not long before I slumbered, and then disturbing apparition of last night came over me again.
He was now sitting by my side, caressing my hand with feather-light strokes. I knew it was awfully wrong for Grima to be in my chamber, but could do nothing about it, for it was a dream, and his touches felt so good, so sedative, that I wanted more of them. As of overhearing my thoughts, he turned up my palm and laid his fingers upon it, drawing circles and vignettes, as if playing some strange childish game. But pleasure these strokes gave me was so intense, that it sent shivers down my spine. I heard his soft chuckle as he pressed his fingers against my pulse.
"My, my... What is agitating you so much tonight, my lady? Your pulse is so frequent, and your heart beats so fast," he brought my hand upon my pounding heart, covering it with his own one. As he bent closer to me, I felt his warm breathing.
"And your lips, they beg for kisses... Now that I am gone, isn't there someone to take my place at your side? Well, I can hardly believe there is no one... Or there is not?"
I shook my head in denial, and treacherous "Please..." escaped my tongue. This elicited another chuckle from my night demon.
"Please - what, my lady?"
"Please... Please, leave me. You make me feel bad, and I have so much work to do..."
He disgorged my hand and sat straight.
"Don't you think you should have some rest, my lady? You are working too hard, and no wonder you are so tired you almost collapse."
"This is not your pain, Grima," I said.
"And why not?" he asked. "Hadn't we already made it clear last night, my lady, that I lust for you? I want my desired woman healthy..."
Oh, no! Even if this was only a dream, it was outrageous. I must wake up. Wake up immediately! I bit my lip hard, and woke up. But somewhere on the verge of dream and reality, for a split second I felt his fingers touching my mouth.
Later in the day messenger arrived. I was already up, although a little light-headed still. Messenger brought us news about big battle that was coming; huge army, he said, was approaching Helm's Deep, and they expected the attack next night.
***
Helplessness is the most awful feeling in the world. When you know that people you love are struggling against death, and you are far away and can't do anything to help them - this is hell. This is how we felt that night - helpless, and scared for our men, and for our children here, and ourselves - for in case battle was lost, death was our most certain and close perspective. If our army will lose the battle, how do we protect our women, and children, and elderly, with the scarce powers we had? How do I, the leader, find the way to save my people, if riders of the Mark will be defeated? These thoughts were troubling my mind for many times already, by tonight their pressure was almost unbearable. Standing on the high observation post in the wee hours, looking in the direction of Helm's Deep, I tried to distinguish some sign, but to no avail. Suddenly another terrible idea flashed to me: if Grima could broke into my dreams, he obviously must know my location now! And surely he already reported it to his master, and now Saruman's armies are most certainly marching here! Stupefied by this thought, I sat down and embraced my knees. Think, Eowyn, think now! What do we have to do? If I wake everybody up, will we have enough time to flee? It is two nights since Grima first penetrated my dreams. But maybe he knew even earlier? And even if we have time, where do we go? There once was a map of secret hidings like Dunharrow in the palace; did I take it with me? I stood up and ran to my chamber, where I opened chest with a parchments and searched it. Blessed Creator, it was there. Feverishly, I read the map. Here it was, nameless underground hiding not far away from Dunharrow. But I have never heard about it before. When had it been used for the last time? It may be all ruined now, or inhabited by trolls, or... No matter what the risk was, this was our only chance. I rushed to the door, but the same moment it was opened and let in someone I abhorred to see tonight even more than ever.
Grima entered the room, and I immediately dashed for my sword. Orcs must be here, too, but they will not have my life cheap. But wait, why it is so quite in the house? If we were attacked...
"What are you doing here, Snake?" I shouted, holding sword in front of myself and ready to use it any moment. "Have you brought your master's trained murderers with you?"
"No, I haven't," he answered calmly, "and I came to tell you I never will. Saruman does not know where your people are hiding. And he will never know this from me. No need for you to wake your townsfolk tonight."
"How can I believe you? You are most certainly acting on your master's orders now!"
He shrugged.
"It is your choice, my lady, to believe me or not. But I am a spy, not murderer."
Before I could answer him, I woke up. I was still at the observing post; how had it happened that I fell asleep in such a moment? I rose up my eyes to the sky - and saw that it was beginning to dawn.
When my uncle's falcon brought us short note with happy tidings, I cried. And so did everybody else in our worn out with anxiety settlement. We were hugging each other and kissing, and congratulating, though we knew that soon many of us would be mourning after their loved ones. But that day we didn't want to think about it. We were victorious, and Rohan was saved. Soon, we will be returning our homes.
Couple of days passed in awaiting more news and orders from the King, and in preparations for leaving. Now, when tantalizing fear for my people was gone, I began thinking about the future. I can't say these were happy thoughts; returning to Edoras, no matter how I wanted it, didn't promise me anything but staying in the palace alone, once my uncle and my brother would leave for another war, even more dreadful. Now, when memories of hell of fear and helplessness we have just survived were too fresh, I hardly could imagine how I would face it all again. And with Snake haunting my dreams...
Speaking of which, he didn't bother me after the night of battle at Helm's Deep. It would be curious to know, where he and his master are now? What if Saruman's rage befell on Grima? What if he is already dead? However shameful it was, I had to admit that my heart sank at this thought. I hated myself for it, but could do nothing but thinking of Grima's appearing in my dream, when I was on the verge of sanity, and helping me out. And why on earth did his choose to lose such a brilliant chance of gaining good reward from his master, and... opportunity to have me for himself?
Each time my thoughts took such turn, I reprimanded myself fiercely, but these inner dialogues always ended up in another discussion of Grima's actions towards me, and his motives. My mind was getting more and more weary because of unanswered questions and uncontrollable suggestions; that was, I guess, the reason for my strange actions on the third night after the battle at Helm's Deep.
I was nearly asleep when my ear caught the sound my chamber's door opening, and I jumped on the bed with a startle, hand searching for dagger under the pillow. Lean figure, clad in black, appeared in the doorway. The visitor closed the door swiftly behind him, but I already have recognized the unmistakable pallor of his face in the scarce light of torch in the corridor.
"How..." but before I formed the question, Grima was already at my bedside. He smiled at the sight of dagger in my hand, and instantly my fingers stopped serving me and dropped the weapon helplessly on the floor. Grima took my defenseless now hand and brought it to his face.
"Is this a dream again?" I whispered, but he seemed to ignore the question, brushing his lips softly against the back of my palm, then turning it upwards and planting small kisses all over it. Cool night suddenly felt insufferably hot; my body seemed to grow weaker and weaker with each next second, as if its very core was melting in this heat.
"What spell did you cast on me?" I managed at last, taking my hand away from him and shaking my head violently; no, this wasn't a dream.
Grima rose up and came to the moonlit window.
"Spell? What spell are you talking about, my lady? Should we call spell me treating you like a woman, and not like a little warrior? Looking at you with affection? Talking to you courtly? Not fighting on swords with you, but touching you with tenderness? Do you think all this to be a kind of magic?"
"You broke into my dreams..."
"Ah. I must confess it was a simple spell, indeed, but I didn't broke. I entered your dreams. Because you have called me."
"Called you? How can you tell?"
"The spell wouldn't have worked if you were not thinking of me," he stated plainly, coming close behind me and touching my hair. Instinctively, I leant back into the pleasure of his touch, but in the same moment remnants of my will made me rush away. Grima laughed bitterly and turned back to the window, looking outside as if observing something of great interest there.
"And they called me a liar," he said, "but at least with myself I was always honest. And never had I attempted to call things anything but their true names. When they put me before choice, I admitted my real master and left, instead of staying with Theoden's court as a spy. When you said that my feeling for you was mere lust, I didn't deny it, though it was not, and is not, that "mere". But you, my fair lady - liar I dub thee, because even to yourself you can't admit true nature of your feelings for me. Such cowardice from a noble Rohirric princess I would never expect."
"So you made this long and perilous way from your master only to offend me here? And you think I shall be defending myself before your absurd accusations? Never would I expect such folly from a wise man like you..."
Grima smiled.
"Love makes wise man fool, my princess," he said. "But no, the purpose of my visit lies somewhere else. I came here to free you."
"Free me?"
"Yes. Free you from my claims."
Now he was again at my bedside, holding my hands in his, and looking me straight in the eye.
"I wanted to make you the queen of the Golden Hall, my lady, and dreamed of our son becoming king of the Mark one day, but alas. On the second night after our army was defeated at Helm's Deep, Isengard was destroyed. Now my master is outcast, and I am too. I have nothing to offer you. I came to say farewell to you, my lady. I won't be breaking into your dreams anymore. At least before I will be in power again."
I looked at his face while he was speaking; his skin was pale as always, and his features not handsome at all. But his eyes were not hooded with passion - they were lit with love. How could this be?..
...Not in my dreams anymore? Letting me know warmth, and then leaving me to the sheer cold? Becoming part of my life, and then just disappearing from it?
...Why, oh why do I care for him?
...Slowly, I freed one of my hands from his, and touched the clasp of his cloak, tracing its shape contemplatively.
"So you don't desire me anymore?" I asked.
"How dare I?"
"Oh, please. I know you are brave enough and daring enough. But if you don't love me, just voice it - and go."
Intensity of Grima's gaze could have made holes in stone wall.
"I cannot lie to my lady," he said.
His cloak fell down on the floor, and I proceeded to undoing his shirt. Moving closer to him, I whispered into his ear,
"Then I cannot let you go, my lord."
That night was too good to ever dim in my memory. Ten thousands nights may pass, but I still shall remember every minute of it. All the longing we both felt, and doubts, and frustrations, and joy, and passion we were sharing for the first time - this is what our first kiss was. The greedy haste of our hands, struggling with obnoxious cloth, and then touching, and stroking, and caressing, and trying to get as much of each other as possible - this is what I shall never forget. As I shall never forget our moans of pleasure, muffled with more kisses we couldn't get enough of. And his sweet weight upon me, and joy I felt when he filled me for the first time; and surprise on the face of my lover when I got on top of him, his laughter and his hands on my breasts. His soft whispers, loving, and funny, and admiring, my fingers, entangled in his hair, his lips on my neck, and collarbones, and shoulders, making me short of breathing and shivering with pleasure. The bliss of holding him close to me - the man I dreamed of, and desired for, the man whose mere touches were bringing me heavens, the man who loved me - and the one whom I loved for so long a time, secretly even from myself.
Hiding my face on his chest, I wished the dawn would never come. But there it was, throwing first feeble light through the window. And there we were, standing at the door, both fully dressed now, holding each other for one last time.
"Let me go with you," I asked, knowing his reply all too well. He shook his head, cupping my face in his hands and looking longingly upon it.
"I could be your redemption."
"Or I could become your fall," he said, "for my way lies in the darkness, Eowyn, and even your love can't change this. And you..."
"I want nothing more than being with you!"
"At Saruman's side? I can't let you, and neither can I leave my master now. For I know my Eowyn will never love a traitor." And with these words, he kissed me and left.
Dimly I remember the day that followed the happiest night of my life. What I did, where I was, whom I was talking to - all went blurred in my memory, all but one expectation that supported me. I waited for the night to meet my lover in my dreams. But this never happened. Vainly I called for him in my thoughts before falling asleep. For the first night, I thought he may be still on his way, and sleepless. For the second and third, I still hoped, but later, vile thought have entered my mind. He must have used me and abandoned me - and what else I was to expect from evil man he confessed he was? It was my own folly to love him, and this realization was good enough punishment for me. ...But that look of love in his eyes - could it be false? Or it was my own desire to be loved by him that deceived me?
Love is a false mirror. If one dawn was finding me hating Grima, next saw me praying for him. Where was he now? Was he in danger? How had he explained to Saruman his absence that night? And what is his place in his master's plans now? Or, maybe, he had lied to me, and he didn't return to Saruman, but went seeking for another, mightier, liege?
Sometimes, when torturing doubts seemed to be almost unbearable, dreams came; they were not like that life-filled dreams he brought to me before, but pale shadows of past remembrances. I dreamed of his hands, and his lips, his strokes and his whispers. In my visions, our love was true; but once I woke up, the beast of suspicion was feasting upon my heart with double eagerness. Could it be that thing which once seemed to be so right, was turning out the most terrible mistake in my life?
I don't remember when thought of going to war first came to me; I wanted to leave Rohan, where everything spoke to me of him; I even entertained myself with silly hope of meeting him somewhere in the distant lands, but not for long it was before another wish came over.
He was right, my lover, when he called me a liar. Even to myself I couldn't state plainly that my sudden desire for gaining glory at the battlefield was nothing more than cowardly intention of escaping this world.
With this decision in my heart and mind, I must have died sometime in the night. Of what happened after that, nothing mattered.
Only when I almost stepped over the line of real death, life returned to me. In the Healing Houses of Gondor, I was born anew, and anew I learnt to find joy in breathing and walking and looking at the world around. I realized that I almost have lost my life, never living up to its full extend; that I almost robbed myself of many other pleasures out there; that I myself almost made my first night of happiness my last one. If the man I loved decided we couldn't be together - well, he had his reasons for it. But from now on, I shall stop searching what these reasons were; I shall be learning to live without his love. I must look at the light side, as I used to do it before. There was young Faramir, handsome, brave and true, with love in his eyes so well seen - why can't I love him, too? And it didn't matter... Nothing mattered.
***
I was married to Faramir and enjoying my life. If at first my husband was a little jealous for Aragorn (to my utter amusement, for I never harbored in my heart anything but sisterly love for King Elessar), after some time it passed. We had a house, and beautiful garden. While in Gondor, I developed love for plants, and now was spending a lot of time sawing, watering, and gathering. There were daisies for me, and violets, and fennel, and columbines, and rue. And I wore my rue with a difference, when one night he came back.
That night Faramir was not at home, hunting with his friends. The night was stormy, and it was beginning to rain when I went to bed. I was falling asleep with first sounds of thunder outside - when it seemed to me that I saw familiar face between the two flashes of lighting.
And that very instant I appeared to be in the big chamber, dark and cold. I recognized it - it was in Edoras, the same chamber where Theodred lay dead. I felt stirring behind me and wanted to turn back, but suddenly the voice came,
"Please don't, my lady."
I cried and whirled around, but there was no one there.
"Grima! Where are you?" I called to the darkness, and the same voice answered from behind,
"I am here, my lady."
"Why can't I see you?"
"Because I don't want you to see me now."
"Why? Are you wounded? What happened to you? Please, let me see you!"
"No, my lady. I am not wounded. I am dead, and I don't want to abuse your fair eyes."
"Dead? I don't believe you. Come forth!"
Soft laughter was all I've got for reply.
"You are not dead. Dead can not laugh like that!"
"Oh but I can, my lady. I am laughing of joy, because my last earthly minutes I am spending with you... In vain, Eowyn," he said, as I was still trying to look back and see him, "I won't show myself."
"Oh, do you think I loved you for your beauty?" I exclaimed, trying to smile, though tears were already running down my face. I felt him nearing me, and then icy hand touched my cheek, traveling its familiar way up and down the jawline, sending shivers through my body.
"See? You are already trembling. I am all that cold now," he said, trying to step back again, but I caught his hand and brought it to my lips.
"Why have you abandoned me?"
I heard him sigh.
"Do you think living in our dreams was good idea for both of us?"
"N-no. But I missed you. Oh I missed you so much."
Cold hands encircled me, and I leant into their embrace.
"I missed you too, my Eowyn."
There must have been hundreds of words we wanted to say, hundreds of questions we needed to ask each other - but there were none. Grima just held me in his arms, and what a strange thing - though his body was cold, I felt warm and safe, like I never really was since our first - and only - night.
"Where shall you be going now?"
"I don't know. I just know that it will be soon."
"And you can't stay with me?"
"No."
"Can I go with you?"
Another soft chuckle.
"You know the answer to this question, don't you, my lady?.."
"...So this is all? This is how it ends for us? No time and no place for our love anymore? There's no chance?.."
"Had it ever been, my lady? We cheated on our fates to begin this story. And we knew that not everyone has to be happy in the end, didn't we? Or else people won't buy it... Hushsh... Don't cry, Eowyn."
Now he was soothing me, like a child, but I couldn't stop tears.
"Eowyn... Close your eyes. And don't you look up, please..."
I did as he said, and was rewarded with his lips, kissing away my tears. I threw my hands around him, and my fingertips sensed the edges of wounds on his back; there must have been arrows. Clinging to him as close as possible, I was trying to find his lips with mine. Suddenly I felt his embrace loosen, and his body becoming less solid under my touch. For one last time, I tried to seize his hands - but my fingers caught only air, and when my eyes shot open, there was only darkness of my own chamber to face me.
The End.
Other story in the same (per)verse: "Second Half of Scissors" (see in my profile).
Also, if you like this pairing, you may be interested in visiting my site; the link is in my profile, too.