Review Replies:
Niliwen: Yup he is, as demonstrated by this chapter...
Gryphix: It sort of is...except Éowyn isn't the one who's going to need rescuing. You'll see...heh heh.
Silindro: No, that guy comes in later, and he's solely to give Faramir some more chances for angst. This is somebody else...
Cassandra Anthemyst: Sorry about stealing the kidnappers/hell line, but it was just such a good line I couldn't resist.
To everyone who pointed out the Théodwyn/Lothiriel thing, thank you! This is exactly what I need pointed out. ::sheepish look:: Sorry about that!
To everyone who pointed out the automatic assumption thing, that's me getting ahead of myself again. It should be fixed now, unless FFN decides to hate me again. Here's chapter five!
By the way, Éowyn is slightly panicky in this chapter. She talks herself out of it in her next one, so you can all just relax now.
Chapter Five: Kidnapped
I woke to a terrible pain in my head. I could see nothing but light, and I knew nothing of where I was, save that I was tied to the saddle of a horse and it was galloping. A sidesaddle, yet. Oh, the indignity.
The anger was swiftly overwhelmed by fear. The last thing I remembered was watching Faramir leave as I stood on the walls of Edoras. Then, something stuck my head, and blackness fell...no, wait, it had not fallen entirely. I had fought the hands that picked me up and slung me roughly over a shoulder, but another blow had sent the darkness crashing down in truth.
It was no longer night. That I knew for certain. The warm sun shone on my skin and illuminated the blindfold over my eyes. I pulled back a little and was brought up short. My hands were tied to the pommel of the saddle. Kicking my feet experimentally, I found they were tied to the stirrups.
Well, I had to say this for my kidnappers: they were thorough. I wore nothing more then my shift and gown, not even boots. I confirmed with a quick shake of my head that they had at least left me my hair-clasp. Without that to offer me comfort, the fear would surely have conquered me. The clasp was an ever-present reminder of hope, hope that my brother at least would seek to find me.
I will not deny that I hoped Faramir would come. I knew not how he felt about me, or if he even cared that I was no longer in Edoras, but my daydreams always had him rescuing me, embarrassing as it would be to have the man I loved more then anything see me in a state of such weakness. But he had seen me in equal weakness the night before...and he had not seemed repulsed. He had even offered me what comfort was his to give, the comfort of a gentle heart that I loved. I took a deep breath. While I was waiting for someone to come help me escape, I could plan how to give my kidnappers hell.
"Halt."
I was rudely jolted out of my daydreams by that voice, that slimy, persuasive voice I remembered all too well from those horrible months in Edoras before my uncle's restoration. Wormtongue had come for me.
The horse I was on skidded to a halt as something pulled sharply on its head. Had I not been tied in, I would have fallen, something that did not escape Wormtongue's notice.
"Fool!" The sound of a slap, a high-pitched cry. "She must not be injured." Then footsteps approaching my horse. I pretended to be still unconscious, while my heart pounded in wild fear and my breath came short. A hand lay suddenly on my arm and it took all I had not to whimper in fear.
"I know you are awake, my lady Éowyn," the voice came, screeching across my nerves like a file on iron. "I saw you move not five minutes ago. You must know who I am." Hands on my hair, undoing the blindfold. For a terrible moment, I thought he was removing my hair-clasp, and I nearly threw up. Then the blindfold was gone. I saw instantly that we were somewhere in Rohan still, heading perhaps for the ruin of Isengarde, or even Helm's Deep. Then I looked down, and could not repress a whimper at the cold face I remembered too well.
"Yes, you do recognize me," he continued, smiling. That smile sent me flinching away from him, and sent his hand to grab the back of my neck, pulling me close to his face. "You will be mine," he whispered, his breath making me gag. I tried to pull away, but not before he planted a foul kiss on my mouth and shoved me away. "We camp here for the night," he called to his cronies. One pulled me down and tied me to a bush, while I shivered with reaction to the kiss and silently pleaded to the Valar to send me rescue soon.
Éomer, Faramir, come quickly, please! Please, before it's too late...