Chapter 2 - Escape
When he awoke for the second time, he knew he wasn't the only one awake for he could hear that the servants were now up, bustling around the halls and corridors. Gríma got up out of bed, washed and dressed and then left his room. He arrived at the main hall a few minutes later, and the sight that awaited him, made his already sickened stomach feel ready to heave.
At one of the side tables, Éowyn and Éomer were counting their cards. Éomer had a few, but as per normal, Éowyn had hundreds. Gríma also noticed that the King had a card on the arm of his throne. "No doubt a Niece to an Uncle card" he thought bitterly. Gríma had no relatives to speak of and so he never received anything from them either.
Gríma walked over to the cluster of oak tables, and desperately tried to make for one that wasn't occupied. Too late. Éowyn had seen him. "Come and join us Gríma" she called happily. So Gríma could do nothing else but accept the offer, pull up a chair and sit down at their table. He took a piece of bread from the plate in the middle of the table and began to butter it.
"So, Gríma" said Éomer. Gríma looked up from his breakfast, dreading the next question. "How many cards did you get?" Poor Gríma swallowed hard and tried to keep his face looking as neutral as was possible. "None, yet" he replied. "Never mind Gríma. I'm sure you'll get one soon. There's always somebody for everyone."
Gríma knew all too well that Éomer simply loved taunting him on Valentine's and after this last sentence, it was all Gríma could do to stop his eyes, darting to Éowyn. He knew what he had to do. Gríma finished his breakfast in record time, bade a hasty goodbye to the pair and dashed out towards the stables. No one wanted him here today of all days, in Edoras. Besides, everyone would be too afloat on Cloud Nine to give a single thought to him, or where he was.
Gríma finally reached the seventh stall where his horse, Périn was stabled. He unlatched the door and walked in. The beautiful mare turned around and when it saw Gríma, it nuzzled into him fondly, as a dog would greet its master. Gríma stroked the horse's thick mane and horse whinnied with contentment. Périn's entire coat and mane were both glossy jet black apart from his nose and around his hooves which were grey and white.
When he awoke for the second time, he knew he wasn't the only one awake for he could hear that the servants were now up, bustling around the halls and corridors. Gríma got up out of bed, washed and dressed and then left his room. He arrived at the main hall a few minutes later, and the sight that awaited him, made his already sickened stomach feel ready to heave.
At one of the side tables, Éowyn and Éomer were counting their cards. Éomer had a few, but as per normal, Éowyn had hundreds. Gríma also noticed that the King had a card on the arm of his throne. "No doubt a Niece to an Uncle card" he thought bitterly. Gríma had no relatives to speak of and so he never received anything from them either.
Gríma walked over to the cluster of oak tables, and desperately tried to make for one that wasn't occupied. Too late. Éowyn had seen him. "Come and join us Gríma" she called happily. So Gríma could do nothing else but accept the offer, pull up a chair and sit down at their table. He took a piece of bread from the plate in the middle of the table and began to butter it.
"So, Gríma" said Éomer. Gríma looked up from his breakfast, dreading the next question. "How many cards did you get?" Poor Gríma swallowed hard and tried to keep his face looking as neutral as was possible. "None, yet" he replied. "Never mind Gríma. I'm sure you'll get one soon. There's always somebody for everyone."
Gríma knew all too well that Éomer simply loved taunting him on Valentine's and after this last sentence, it was all Gríma could do to stop his eyes, darting to Éowyn. He knew what he had to do. Gríma finished his breakfast in record time, bade a hasty goodbye to the pair and dashed out towards the stables. No one wanted him here today of all days, in Edoras. Besides, everyone would be too afloat on Cloud Nine to give a single thought to him, or where he was.
Gríma finally reached the seventh stall where his horse, Périn was stabled. He unlatched the door and walked in. The beautiful mare turned around and when it saw Gríma, it nuzzled into him fondly, as a dog would greet its master. Gríma stroked the horse's thick mane and horse whinnied with contentment. Périn's entire coat and mane were both glossy jet black apart from his nose and around his hooves which were grey and white.