Title: Lost Along The Way
Author: eena_angel2001
Rating: R for violence.
Disclaimer: Tolkien owns everyone in LOTR, I only own Aerin.
Summary: Hope is found, in Rohan . . .
Spoilers: For The Two Towers movie.
Prologue
He had gone too far.
Her eyes looked down at the dead body on the bed, feeling a shock of anger course through her veins. Green eyes narrowed to slits as her fingers brushed over the blue lips of her former charge. She could see the yellow stain from here, smearing some of the substance onto her fingers as they skimmed over it. She brought those fingers up to her eyes, anger growing as she looked at them.
Poison. There was poison on his lips. No doubt fed to him in the dead of the night. Left in his body for hours so by the time she came in the morning to see him, he would beyond any aid on her part. She didn't have to ask the guards to know that they hadn't seen a thing. Of course they hadn't seen a thing, he probably told them as much. How could they accuse him and run the risk of joining the prince in the land of the dead? But still, to have allowed him in here, to murder their prince, she couldn't believe it.
He had gone too far. She closed her eyes, feeling the tears threatening there as she tried to collect herself. Growing angry would do her no good. There was nothing she could do now. She could only call Eowyn down, explain to her that her cousin had passed away in the night. She debated telling the woman the truth, but quickly shelved it. The news might make Eowyn too angry to think straight, causing her to do something she shouldn't risk. Not that Grima didn't deserve it.
He poisoned the prince. There was no doubt in her mind of Grima's guilt in this crime. There was only one person who could have done it, only one person who would have been able to do it. Only one person who would ever dare risk something like this in the house of the king. And that was because, he now ran that house. Grima controlled the king, and therefore he controlled Rohan.
She opened her eyes, staring forward at the wall in front of her as she thought of her life now. The situation in Rohan was becoming steadily worse as time went by. For years she had thought Theoden would see past Grima's talk, that the king would rise up as things got worse for his countrymen. But alas, the king was either too far gone to help or did not care to. That filthy man was in power.
But she had held onto some hope for awhile. There were still people, people like herself, that were still loyal to the king and the country of Rohan. Grima dared not to attack these people, for it would quickly lose him the ability to rule over the army. Or so she had thought. But Grima's hold had deepened over the years, and now, he had all power. None were safe, no hope remained while that man remained in Rohan. The banishment of Eomer proved this.
But what need did he have to poison the prince? He was too injured to be any threat to Grima any longer. He had barely clung to life in the last few days. His recovery would take many seasons, Grima had no immediate threat from him. Her healing could have saved him, the prince could have lived. But he was poisoned.
A few tears leaked out of the corner of her eyes. She sniffed, turning to search among her instruments. She pulled a silk cloth out of the mess, folded it once and moved back to the prince's body. She carefully wiped away the evidence of the poison from his lips. She would tell everyone that the prince had been beyond her reach. His seemingly improving health had been misleading. His body had been far too weak, too short of blood, to survive. That was what she would tell people.
She wanted to fight him, she wanted to hurt him. But she could not. Grima had become too large a snake for her to cut down. He knew too many things, about her, that kept her in line. She knew that he was always watching her. It wasn't the same way he watched Eowyn, but even more frightening. He looked at her like he had plans for her.
He knew everything she tried to keep secret. Of course, by the time he did, she had been beyond caring. The fear finally was too much, and she had sought out the ear of her king. Surely he would know how to help her, how to soothe the fears inside her. King Theoden was a wise and just king, he would do something about all those terrible things she saw.
But he was already too far in Grima's spell to help her. She had come to him in a panic, throwing herself at his feet. Through tears and sobs, she relied everything to him. She looked at him with pleading, staring into his vacant eyes for some sign of comprehension, some sign of comfort. But they had stared back, lifeless as the prince's were now. Her heart had dropped far into her chest and she felt sorrow like she had never known.
And then he emerged from the shadows. He stalked towards her, smug in his knowledge of all she had confessed to the king. Hastily, she tried to depart, wiping tears from her cheeks. But he would not let her leave.
No, instead, he threw his venom at her. He spoke of her confessions, a sneer on his black lips, and told her the exact thing she had been fearing. She saw nothing of importance. No, indeed, she never really saw anything at all. She was mad, without a doubt. And Grima knew all about it.
He could have her removed from the palace with this revelation. He could claim her madness made her unfit to be a healer and a danger to those she was supposed to aid. He told her the very many things that could happen to her if others found out. She would be ruined, shunned, and thrown aside with all the other vagrants on the streets. She would die there, a broken shell of a woman, drowning in her own madness.
She didn't want to believe him, but he pressed the matter further. The things she saw, they made no sense. She saw Saruman rising as evil, laying ruin to the lands of Rohan. Everyone knew that Saruman the White was a great wizard, a friend to Rohan. So how would her accusations be taken? With only her "visions" as proof? What else could they be but delusions of a madwoman?
And she believed him. Whether or not the things she saw were true, no one would believe her. She would be seen as mad and thrown away. She would be shunned, pitied and tossed to the side. A healer, even one as good as she was, could be replaced. True, no one would ever be able to match up to her skills in the subject, but who would come to a mad woman with their ills? She could do nothing, even as the visions became worse and worse.
She shook her head, not wanting to dwell on the things she kept seeing. She had never seen so many of them before, not even when she was a child. In fact, they had been so few she often thought they were nothing more than waking dreams. But now, they were something else entirely. They brought her sights, and they brought her fear. She would see these things and feel a panic start in her breast. She felt as though they were real, but she could make nothing of them. Only flashes, that would hit her rather suddenly and cause her to falter in her step. They took her breath away and left her shaking where she stood.
But again, she could do nothing. Her king was gone, buried far too deep into himself to help her at all. Grima watched over her every step, swooping in and out with threats almost daily. His steps resounded around the halls, haunting her and Eowyn wherever they went. Eowyn was as powerless as she was, forced to endure the man's presence almost every waking moment of her day. The only salvation either had from Grima had been the Lady's brother, and Eomer had now been banished. And as for the prince, well, he was no longer able to make any difference in their world. Those who were left could do nothing but watch on in mute horror.
Something very bad was coming to her beloved Rohan. Something that would ruin her homeland, laying it to waste in a heartbeat. In her mind's eye, she saw only a blackness falling over the land, causing everything to wither and decay. The blackness was different each time. It was either a shadow or a straight line. The shadow fell over the land, hanging like an ominous cloak. The line ripped through the landscape, leaving only devastation in its wake. They were two separate entities, but with the same goal in mind. The destruction of Rohan and its people.
Perhaps the prince was lucky, dying before the blackness came. From now on out, she saw only pain and death in the future. Torture, torment, and chaos ruled the future as she saw it. There was only entropy as far as her eye could see. Surely this was not some deluison, but perhaps a premonition of some sort? This was their fate, unless things changed.
But there was nothing to bring the change needed. What Rohan needed was their king to rise again. Rohan needed Grima to be thrown out of the palace, for Theoden to once again assume control of his kingdom. Rohan needed a defence to be mounted immediately against the coming threat, whatever it may be.
She turned back to her prince, thoughts of future and fate gone from her mind. She began to tidy his appearence, gliding her hands over his eyes to pull the lids shut. She couldn't bear to look at those dead eyes any longer. Those dead, horrifed eyes, frozen in the moment when the prince realized his end had come.
Her hands shook as she smoothed the hair away from his forehead. She looked forlornly down at her prince, more tears falling down her cheeks. Rohan's future, dead in his bed. The king would be crushed, she hoped. The news might break through whatever spell Grima had cast upon her beloved king and he would pull himself through. That was the only hope she had left in her.
She left his side, moving to the door silently. She opened it, seeing the fearful faces on the other side. The Lady Eowyn was quick to rush to the front, blind hope mixing with panic all over her features. She braced herself, trying to assemble the words. But nothing came to her, and the tears flowed even more freely than before.
"The prince has died."
*****
Author: eena_angel2001
Rating: R for violence.
Disclaimer: Tolkien owns everyone in LOTR, I only own Aerin.
Summary: Hope is found, in Rohan . . .
Spoilers: For The Two Towers movie.
Prologue
He had gone too far.
Her eyes looked down at the dead body on the bed, feeling a shock of anger course through her veins. Green eyes narrowed to slits as her fingers brushed over the blue lips of her former charge. She could see the yellow stain from here, smearing some of the substance onto her fingers as they skimmed over it. She brought those fingers up to her eyes, anger growing as she looked at them.
Poison. There was poison on his lips. No doubt fed to him in the dead of the night. Left in his body for hours so by the time she came in the morning to see him, he would beyond any aid on her part. She didn't have to ask the guards to know that they hadn't seen a thing. Of course they hadn't seen a thing, he probably told them as much. How could they accuse him and run the risk of joining the prince in the land of the dead? But still, to have allowed him in here, to murder their prince, she couldn't believe it.
He had gone too far. She closed her eyes, feeling the tears threatening there as she tried to collect herself. Growing angry would do her no good. There was nothing she could do now. She could only call Eowyn down, explain to her that her cousin had passed away in the night. She debated telling the woman the truth, but quickly shelved it. The news might make Eowyn too angry to think straight, causing her to do something she shouldn't risk. Not that Grima didn't deserve it.
He poisoned the prince. There was no doubt in her mind of Grima's guilt in this crime. There was only one person who could have done it, only one person who would have been able to do it. Only one person who would ever dare risk something like this in the house of the king. And that was because, he now ran that house. Grima controlled the king, and therefore he controlled Rohan.
She opened her eyes, staring forward at the wall in front of her as she thought of her life now. The situation in Rohan was becoming steadily worse as time went by. For years she had thought Theoden would see past Grima's talk, that the king would rise up as things got worse for his countrymen. But alas, the king was either too far gone to help or did not care to. That filthy man was in power.
But she had held onto some hope for awhile. There were still people, people like herself, that were still loyal to the king and the country of Rohan. Grima dared not to attack these people, for it would quickly lose him the ability to rule over the army. Or so she had thought. But Grima's hold had deepened over the years, and now, he had all power. None were safe, no hope remained while that man remained in Rohan. The banishment of Eomer proved this.
But what need did he have to poison the prince? He was too injured to be any threat to Grima any longer. He had barely clung to life in the last few days. His recovery would take many seasons, Grima had no immediate threat from him. Her healing could have saved him, the prince could have lived. But he was poisoned.
A few tears leaked out of the corner of her eyes. She sniffed, turning to search among her instruments. She pulled a silk cloth out of the mess, folded it once and moved back to the prince's body. She carefully wiped away the evidence of the poison from his lips. She would tell everyone that the prince had been beyond her reach. His seemingly improving health had been misleading. His body had been far too weak, too short of blood, to survive. That was what she would tell people.
She wanted to fight him, she wanted to hurt him. But she could not. Grima had become too large a snake for her to cut down. He knew too many things, about her, that kept her in line. She knew that he was always watching her. It wasn't the same way he watched Eowyn, but even more frightening. He looked at her like he had plans for her.
He knew everything she tried to keep secret. Of course, by the time he did, she had been beyond caring. The fear finally was too much, and she had sought out the ear of her king. Surely he would know how to help her, how to soothe the fears inside her. King Theoden was a wise and just king, he would do something about all those terrible things she saw.
But he was already too far in Grima's spell to help her. She had come to him in a panic, throwing herself at his feet. Through tears and sobs, she relied everything to him. She looked at him with pleading, staring into his vacant eyes for some sign of comprehension, some sign of comfort. But they had stared back, lifeless as the prince's were now. Her heart had dropped far into her chest and she felt sorrow like she had never known.
And then he emerged from the shadows. He stalked towards her, smug in his knowledge of all she had confessed to the king. Hastily, she tried to depart, wiping tears from her cheeks. But he would not let her leave.
No, instead, he threw his venom at her. He spoke of her confessions, a sneer on his black lips, and told her the exact thing she had been fearing. She saw nothing of importance. No, indeed, she never really saw anything at all. She was mad, without a doubt. And Grima knew all about it.
He could have her removed from the palace with this revelation. He could claim her madness made her unfit to be a healer and a danger to those she was supposed to aid. He told her the very many things that could happen to her if others found out. She would be ruined, shunned, and thrown aside with all the other vagrants on the streets. She would die there, a broken shell of a woman, drowning in her own madness.
She didn't want to believe him, but he pressed the matter further. The things she saw, they made no sense. She saw Saruman rising as evil, laying ruin to the lands of Rohan. Everyone knew that Saruman the White was a great wizard, a friend to Rohan. So how would her accusations be taken? With only her "visions" as proof? What else could they be but delusions of a madwoman?
And she believed him. Whether or not the things she saw were true, no one would believe her. She would be seen as mad and thrown away. She would be shunned, pitied and tossed to the side. A healer, even one as good as she was, could be replaced. True, no one would ever be able to match up to her skills in the subject, but who would come to a mad woman with their ills? She could do nothing, even as the visions became worse and worse.
She shook her head, not wanting to dwell on the things she kept seeing. She had never seen so many of them before, not even when she was a child. In fact, they had been so few she often thought they were nothing more than waking dreams. But now, they were something else entirely. They brought her sights, and they brought her fear. She would see these things and feel a panic start in her breast. She felt as though they were real, but she could make nothing of them. Only flashes, that would hit her rather suddenly and cause her to falter in her step. They took her breath away and left her shaking where she stood.
But again, she could do nothing. Her king was gone, buried far too deep into himself to help her at all. Grima watched over her every step, swooping in and out with threats almost daily. His steps resounded around the halls, haunting her and Eowyn wherever they went. Eowyn was as powerless as she was, forced to endure the man's presence almost every waking moment of her day. The only salvation either had from Grima had been the Lady's brother, and Eomer had now been banished. And as for the prince, well, he was no longer able to make any difference in their world. Those who were left could do nothing but watch on in mute horror.
Something very bad was coming to her beloved Rohan. Something that would ruin her homeland, laying it to waste in a heartbeat. In her mind's eye, she saw only a blackness falling over the land, causing everything to wither and decay. The blackness was different each time. It was either a shadow or a straight line. The shadow fell over the land, hanging like an ominous cloak. The line ripped through the landscape, leaving only devastation in its wake. They were two separate entities, but with the same goal in mind. The destruction of Rohan and its people.
Perhaps the prince was lucky, dying before the blackness came. From now on out, she saw only pain and death in the future. Torture, torment, and chaos ruled the future as she saw it. There was only entropy as far as her eye could see. Surely this was not some deluison, but perhaps a premonition of some sort? This was their fate, unless things changed.
But there was nothing to bring the change needed. What Rohan needed was their king to rise again. Rohan needed Grima to be thrown out of the palace, for Theoden to once again assume control of his kingdom. Rohan needed a defence to be mounted immediately against the coming threat, whatever it may be.
She turned back to her prince, thoughts of future and fate gone from her mind. She began to tidy his appearence, gliding her hands over his eyes to pull the lids shut. She couldn't bear to look at those dead eyes any longer. Those dead, horrifed eyes, frozen in the moment when the prince realized his end had come.
Her hands shook as she smoothed the hair away from his forehead. She looked forlornly down at her prince, more tears falling down her cheeks. Rohan's future, dead in his bed. The king would be crushed, she hoped. The news might break through whatever spell Grima had cast upon her beloved king and he would pull himself through. That was the only hope she had left in her.
She left his side, moving to the door silently. She opened it, seeing the fearful faces on the other side. The Lady Eowyn was quick to rush to the front, blind hope mixing with panic all over her features. She braced herself, trying to assemble the words. But nothing came to her, and the tears flowed even more freely than before.
"The prince has died."
*****