Disclaimer: I am in no way associated professionally with J.R.R. Tolkein, Peter Jackson, New Line Cinema, etc.
Author's Note: This is a moviefic, with the characters based on the actors and the events based on the movie's versions of what happened. Because of this, Théodred is a young man, instead of the forty-year-old he is in the book.
Gríma Wormtongue peered around the doorway to the dining hall of Edoras and smiled. There was only one other person in the room and he was person that Gríma had been searching for. He sat with his head lowered, so deep in thought that he did not notice Gríma until he sat on the bench across the table from him.
"Good evening," Théoden's advisor said calmly.
The young man across the table looked up sharply, his dark eyes alert and distrustful. He wore a deep green tunic with a gold horse embroidered on the chest. Gríma could see the long knife in a sheath at the young man's belt and knew he would have to pick his words carefully.
"Gríma," the young man replied. He straightened, brushing his dark hair behind his shoulders. "What do you want?"
"I just wondered," Gríma shrugged innocently. "How fares the war against the Dark?"
The distrust in the other's eyes increased. "We will not fall."
"Is that all you can say? I was hoping for a more encouraging answer than that."
"The Riders of Rohan are ever a strong force, Gríma, as much as you may wish otherwise. You will be gone before we fall to Sauron or Saruman," came proud reply.
"You wound me," Gríma said, letting hurt tinge his voice. "I do not wish to see Rohan fall."
"But you would have us turn a deaf ear to the counsel of the Wise?" the young man asked.
"Not Saruman," Gríma insisted. "The White Wizard has always been our ally."
"But the advice of Gandalf the Grey should be cast away?"
Gríma nodded emphatically. "Yes, he should not be trusted. He dwells more with Elves than Men, it is said, and those people cannot be trusted."
The young man stood up angrily, one hand unconsciously straying to the hilt of his blade. Gríma cringed backward, nearly falling off the bench he huddled on. "And the Prince of Dol Armoth? What do you say to him, he who has Elvish blood in his veins, he who is our ally?"
"He is different," Gríma replied carefully, cursing himself for letting the man trap him in such a way. "There is a difference between those who are Elves and those who cavort with them."
"So those who are Elves are trustworthy, and those who merely know them are not? Gríma, your tongue has tied itself in knots in your haste to sway my mind to believe you."
"But why do you not heed my words like your father does?" whined Gríma. "Surely if King Théoden listens to me, then my words cannot be evil."
"You have corrupted his mind," the prince Théodred replied forcefully. "Éomer and I see this clearly enough."
Wormtongue's eyes flashed. "Éomer!" he sneered. "Why are the words of the king's counselor trusted less than the words of a hissing young snake?"
"Éomer will be a snake only when we call our enemies eagles and horses," Théodred replied. "You are far more a serpent than he."
Gríma nearly hissed in reply, but realized that this would only work to prove Théodred's words. "Éomer may be valorous yes, but he defies the orders of your father. He hunts the Orcs that cross through Rohan, meaning no harm to its people. Théoden does not need an errant nephew on his hands as well as a war."
There was the sharp sound of steel grating as Théodred drew his knife. He was standing over Gríma then, the point of his blade hovering but a few inches from Gríma's throat, anger lighting in his eyes.
"Your spell will not last forever, Gríma," Théodred said, "and before this war is over, you will be dead."
With that, the Prince of the Mark spun and quickly left, and when Wormtongue could no longer hear the footfalls of Théodred, he sat up, pulling his black robe closer around his body. "But you have a weakness, Théodred. I know your family's history. I know what happened to your mother and I know what loyalty you feel for your father. That loyalty and love will be your undoing, Prince Théodred of the Mark."
Author's Note: This is not the end of the story!!