Disclaimer: I don't own any of the LOTR characters you see in this story,
apart from Friéda, Érika and Périn who all belong to me.
Please note: This story is set BEFORE Saruman buys Gríma.
Blossoming of the heart
Chapter 1: Shadows of Remembrance
Gríma awoke to plate sunlight, streaming through his window. Judging by the pale quality of the light, he realised that he must be the only one in the Golden Hall that was awake. It was far too early for even the servants to be up.
He was about to get out of bed and dress, when a thought occurred to him. It was the worst thought that anyone like Gríma could think. Yesterday had been the thirteenth of February so....so that meant today was the fourteenth. Gríma groaned out loud. Valentine's Day. The worst date of the year in his calendar.
He wasn't cold hearted himself; it was just that other people were cold towards him, which made him loath this day so much.
*Flashback*
When Gríma had been only seven years old, he had sent a Valentine's card to a young girl called Friéda. When she got it she had stared, open mouthed at it. She had looked up, seen Gríma and then sniggered before tearing the card into shreds before his very eyes. Many other so-called "normal" children had been there as well and so they all had laughed at him. They thought his pain was whimsical, his heartbreak, hilarious. And so had begun the growth of the immense hatred that Gríma would feel, for the rest of his life, towards the people of Rohan.
*End flashback*
From that day on, Gríma knew he'd always despise Valentine's Day. It would always remind him of his adult and childhood loneliness and every time this day came, he would feel two sharp pangs in his heart, for the only two women, he had ever loved. Friéda...and Éowyn. He collapsed back onto his bed, buried himself under the sheets and went slowly but determinedly back to sleep.
Please note: This story is set BEFORE Saruman buys Gríma.
Blossoming of the heart
Chapter 1: Shadows of Remembrance
Gríma awoke to plate sunlight, streaming through his window. Judging by the pale quality of the light, he realised that he must be the only one in the Golden Hall that was awake. It was far too early for even the servants to be up.
He was about to get out of bed and dress, when a thought occurred to him. It was the worst thought that anyone like Gríma could think. Yesterday had been the thirteenth of February so....so that meant today was the fourteenth. Gríma groaned out loud. Valentine's Day. The worst date of the year in his calendar.
He wasn't cold hearted himself; it was just that other people were cold towards him, which made him loath this day so much.
*Flashback*
When Gríma had been only seven years old, he had sent a Valentine's card to a young girl called Friéda. When she got it she had stared, open mouthed at it. She had looked up, seen Gríma and then sniggered before tearing the card into shreds before his very eyes. Many other so-called "normal" children had been there as well and so they all had laughed at him. They thought his pain was whimsical, his heartbreak, hilarious. And so had begun the growth of the immense hatred that Gríma would feel, for the rest of his life, towards the people of Rohan.
*End flashback*
From that day on, Gríma knew he'd always despise Valentine's Day. It would always remind him of his adult and childhood loneliness and every time this day came, he would feel two sharp pangs in his heart, for the only two women, he had ever loved. Friéda...and Éowyn. He collapsed back onto his bed, buried himself under the sheets and went slowly but determinedly back to sleep.