The women were always lagging behind. Grima found his self-control
floundering. Often, he found the need to lash out at a straggler, to show
his strength and beat them down. But, he knew he would have to be reserved.
Eowyn was finally on his side, though she still looked at him with
wariness. His bones almost melted, though, because she did not look at him
with hatred anymore. There wasn't the tone of contempt in her voice that he
was so used to hearing. It made his black shriveled heart beat furiously.
"Grima," for once it was Eowyn who started the conversation. She spoke to him, used his first name. His mouth went dry, and he licked his chapped, greasy lips. She caught sight of the tip of a silver tongue, but made herself continue. "I am still unsure of you. Allow me to.apologize, for my wickedness."
"What wickedness is that, my lady?" They walked on through the snow, occasionally turning to encourage any that were faltering to keep up.
"I have never been kind to you, since you're arrival at Edoras. You were unfamiliar with our courts, and still I turned from you. I am sorry."
He smiled, then. One small victory. "No, my lady, it is me who apologizes. My ways made you suspicious of my character. I shouldn't have been so crude." He took her hand gently, and placed a light airy kiss upon it.
Naima watched Eowyn with a raging jealousy. Grima had spoken to her, and his eyes had beckoned her alone. Why would he turn to the Lady of Rohan? She was confused. Not sure if she wanted to cry or rejoice at her new freedom from the gaze of the Wormtongue, Naima sulked.
Grima sensed a pair of scornful eyes on him. They were to reach the pass in two days. It may have been an orcan spy, but he felt that the eyes that fell on him were human. Eowyn noticed his slight distress.
"My lord, Grima.what troubles you?" He looked around, and finally his eyes locked with those of Naima. She stared back at him: hurt and longing in her eyes. Ahhh yes, he'd forgotten the little mouse. She expected something in return for her duties. She was a tiny thing, and her heart longed for him. He almost laughed to himself at this show of power. He had control over the frail child, and it was a small triumph.
The day had come. The mountain pass sloped up before them. He'd pushed the group to the extreme in order to make sure they got there at the perfect time. And, as they trudged up the side of the hill, the army awaited them. Eowyn gasped, her eyes widening in fear. Grima tried to wear the same expression, but his sly grin was all that showed upon his thin, pale face. Eowyn realized his plot, her face contorting into that look of hate, only greater. The orcs came down the hillside. The woman and children fled, Eowyn drew her blade. Grima drew his also. They fought, blades gleaming. Grima grabbed a handful of her golden hair, put his sword to her throat, and held fast. The head of the orcan army presented him with his horse. Grima nodded to the orc, and with a wave of his hand, Eowyn was captured.
Woohoo! Yay! More soon. Isn't he horrible?
"Grima," for once it was Eowyn who started the conversation. She spoke to him, used his first name. His mouth went dry, and he licked his chapped, greasy lips. She caught sight of the tip of a silver tongue, but made herself continue. "I am still unsure of you. Allow me to.apologize, for my wickedness."
"What wickedness is that, my lady?" They walked on through the snow, occasionally turning to encourage any that were faltering to keep up.
"I have never been kind to you, since you're arrival at Edoras. You were unfamiliar with our courts, and still I turned from you. I am sorry."
He smiled, then. One small victory. "No, my lady, it is me who apologizes. My ways made you suspicious of my character. I shouldn't have been so crude." He took her hand gently, and placed a light airy kiss upon it.
Naima watched Eowyn with a raging jealousy. Grima had spoken to her, and his eyes had beckoned her alone. Why would he turn to the Lady of Rohan? She was confused. Not sure if she wanted to cry or rejoice at her new freedom from the gaze of the Wormtongue, Naima sulked.
Grima sensed a pair of scornful eyes on him. They were to reach the pass in two days. It may have been an orcan spy, but he felt that the eyes that fell on him were human. Eowyn noticed his slight distress.
"My lord, Grima.what troubles you?" He looked around, and finally his eyes locked with those of Naima. She stared back at him: hurt and longing in her eyes. Ahhh yes, he'd forgotten the little mouse. She expected something in return for her duties. She was a tiny thing, and her heart longed for him. He almost laughed to himself at this show of power. He had control over the frail child, and it was a small triumph.
The day had come. The mountain pass sloped up before them. He'd pushed the group to the extreme in order to make sure they got there at the perfect time. And, as they trudged up the side of the hill, the army awaited them. Eowyn gasped, her eyes widening in fear. Grima tried to wear the same expression, but his sly grin was all that showed upon his thin, pale face. Eowyn realized his plot, her face contorting into that look of hate, only greater. The orcs came down the hillside. The woman and children fled, Eowyn drew her blade. Grima drew his also. They fought, blades gleaming. Grima grabbed a handful of her golden hair, put his sword to her throat, and held fast. The head of the orcan army presented him with his horse. Grima nodded to the orc, and with a wave of his hand, Eowyn was captured.
Woohoo! Yay! More soon. Isn't he horrible?