This story is a based on the story my sister wrote for the Tolkien Group 2009/2010 Challenge.
I've made a few changes in the original story, adding a small part to it that is based on the extra scene found in the extended version of TTT.
As usual, it is dedicated to my sister and to all the girls in the Tolkien Group.
Hope you like it.
Flashback
"Your son is badly wounded, my lord."
I hear my sister tell our uncle, the King of Rohan. For some seconds, I let the sadness caused by my cousin Théodred's wounds overcome me, but I soon put myself together. I feel the need to tell my uncle that there's more to my cousin's injuries than it appears. Tell him it was not an accident. Tell him about the evil that surrounds us and has made his son its victim.
"He was ambushed by Orcs. If we don't defend our country, Saruman will take it by force." I tell him and hope sincerely that this piece of information can take my uncle out of the state he's in.
"That is a lie!"
I take a look at my uncle's side and see Gríma approaching the throne staring me. I can already feel the anger rising inside me.
"Saruman the White has ever been our friend and ally." He continues;
My will is to answer him telling the truth about Saruman, but at this moment, my uncle starts speaking and I remain silent.
"Gríma… Gríma… My son...? Gríma...?"
I can't help but feeling betrayed and disappointed when I hear my uncle calling that creature's name rather than his own family's.
"Orcs are roaming freely across our lands. Unchecked. Unchallenged. Killing at will. Orcs bearing the white hand of Saruman." And before Gríma could open his mouth to say any more poison words, I throw at his feet an orc helmet that had a white hand painted on it.
By the corner of my eyes I can see Éowyn staring at the helmet with surprise in her eyes, but soon I turn my attention to Gríma, whose eyes expressed a feeling of despair for some second before they went back to normal.
He looks at me and I can see the evil behind his eyes. I feel a chill going up my spine, even though I don't let it show. These eyes are the eyes of a person who is capable of doing everything to get what he wishes for. And I'm certain that what he wishes for is not something good.
"Why do you lay these troubles on an already troubled mind? Can you not see? Your uncle is wearied by your malcontent, your warmongering."
I hear Gríma's words and feel the anger turning into hate. Cold. Lethal.
"Warmongering?" I ask. How dare he...?
End of Flashback
Now everything is clear for me. The reason why my uncle is like this, so lost and fragile. There's magic behind it and it's all Grima's fault. It is him who has been destroying my uncle's life and our realm. I need to put an end to it.
I see him walking across the palace and I can no longer control myself. I can talk no longer. I need to do something right now. I see his eyes grow bigger by surprise and fear when I hold him by his shirt and press him against the wall.
"How long is it since Saruman bought you? What was the promised price, Gríma? When all the men are dead you will take your share of the treasure?"
I see his confidence mask fall and his despair is visible now. His eyes change and focus on something behind me. I follow his gaze and find myself staring at my sister Éowyn, who stares at us for some moments before turning her back to us.
I can see it now. All the times he stared at her direction. All the times it looked like he was following her, the odd conversations he had with her. It all makes sense now. Saruman has promised him my sister.
Repulse and disgust crave their way into my heart, but once more the feeling that controls me is the hate I felt for this man, this creature who has caused so much damage to my people. The hate that grows inside of me at the mere thought of him laying one finger on my sister.
"Too long have you watched my sister, too long have you haunted her steps." I start but before I can finish my threat, I see the despair in his eyes turn into something else. His eyes start shining and I can see triumph written there.
Suddenly I feel hands on my shoulders. I look back and I see some soldiers. My soldiers, my companions, friends, that are now at Gríma's service and come to his aid, against me.
"You see much Éomer, Son of Éomund. Too much" says Gríma "You are banished forthwith from the kingdom of Rohan and all its domains. Under pain of death!"
"You have no authority here" I say trying to escape from the grasp of the soldiers trying to drag me out "Your orders mean nothing".
I say these words as an attempt to bring him down, reminding him that my uncle is the king, not him, and that he is nothing, but, as I do it, I see him take a piece of parchment from his robes and unfold it in front of me with a strange look in his eyes.
"This order does not come from me. It comes from the king. He signed it this morning" he answers looking at me and I can swear I hear some satisfaction in his voice as he says it.
No. This can't be happening. I can't be exiled from my own land. The land I gave my blood to protect. I can't believe it. And I can't believe my own uncle did this to me.
All I can do is scream while the soldiers drag me out of my home.