Chapter Two. Does this please you? I still have no claims to what you see
besides the storyline and I probably won't want it anyway before I am done.
That does not mean that I am giving it away. It might be crap, but it is my
crap.
REMEMBER: The entire Theoden thing is on purpose. It fits into the storyline later on.
***
As the years of my childhood drew near to their close Grima's influence over my father became more evident... and more devastating. The man was bent on controlling Rohan even if he had to hide behind my dear deluded father. All despised Grima if not only for the unjust tyranny he created over the kingdom then they hated him for weakening their once strong and loyal King who had brought them into Rohan's Age of Prospering. For doing such the Snake was dubbed as Grima the Wormtongue by all, and this did not please him.
I never meant to please the Snake. No, not by any means did I. Let me reiterate that I utterly loathed him. I cannot say it enough. I hated him. I named my sword, Grime, after him with the obvious implications. Oh! To run him through would be a pleasure to savor above even an elven bath.
He did indeed do all possible to ruin my life. He stared at me for hours with his small dark beady black eyes. He followed me down empty corridors. He STALKED me. It really frightened me at times, but I could not allow him to see this. He could not best me. I would not allow it. But the last thing I wanted was to have that greasy snake breathing down my neck.
Having corrupted the mind of my father he was in position to strike me down. And oh he found reason to. He was enraged that I spurned him so. One night after a late supper he cornered me in the dark hall outside my bedroom and pushed me against the wall holding my wrists above my shoulders. Quite a feat for his lanky crooked frame, I think of later. He did the strangest and most unnerving thing just then. He sniffed my hair. I could hear him suck air in through his nostrils in a heavy unnatural rhythm. His dark eyes squinted more than is normal, and his forehead wrinkled up in piles of furious folds of sallow skin. His frail bony pale hand swished up in a delicate meticulous fashion and ran its spindly finger down the side of my face and across my neck in a latently malicious gesture.
His cold voice left me trembling with a withheld consternation as he began speaking, "You will be mine, young one. This I promise you. Your wretched schemes to evade me will earn you nothing in the end. When all is set in motion only a few others and I will stand. You! You will be at my knees in the end! This is my oath to you. I will break you." His fingers were cold as they slid down my frame and replaced themselves brusquely on my shoulders.
I practically bore my teeth at him and he snickered in delight as if he enjoyed seeing me become defensive. As if I was a challenge to him.
'I will break you', he had said.
I will run him through before that happens. "You do not scare me, Wormtongue." Oh, but he honestly did.
I was one of the first to call him that to his face. "What, did you call me, you filthy wench?" He raised his arm and ripped it across my cheek. The only other person who had labeled him Wormtongue to his face was drawn and quartered under false charges of treason against the King. He laughed again in a mirthless tone as he stood back, letting me go, and sneered at me, "Oh, what a pleasure breaking you shall be, child. I will leave you now. Remember what I have said." He strode off with his filthy cloak billowing behind him as a light flickered across the stonewalls at the opposite end of the corridor.
I slid down the wall to the cold floors when I was sure he was gone. The light steadily grew brighter illuminating my path but not my mind as my brother, Eomer, tore down the hall.
"He did not bother you did he? I saw him pursuing you and came as soon as dear old da was finished hollering at me." Eomer panted out of breath but relieved to see me in one piece.
"I will kill him." I said with a tone seriousness. Eomer knew what was going on between Grima and I, but he could do just as much about it as I could. Grima had relieved me of my sword, and with good reason. His life depended on it.
I looked up to see my brother begin to smile his elegant but genuine smile of his. "I do not doubt you. Never-the-less you must remain prudent in your decisions. He is a formidable foe, sister."
***
My mother, I love her dearly, but she began calling suitors for me when I turned fifteen. I had no use for men. Not the way she meant for me to.
I hunted with Faramir, youngest son of the Steward of Gondor, for many years. We had been playmates since we were babes. We have always been the best of friends. When my mother brought him to our hall as a suitor I told her she was ridiculous and spirited out of doors with chagrin. He was my companion! We swam in the Entwash together at the cottage our families shared! Our families had been linked together in friendship for generations. The family of Denethor is practically kin to me in my heart.
My mother was insane to think that I would ever consider engagement to Faramir much less any other man. I had a destiny. I was to become the best swordswoman in Middle Earth. Not just in Rohan but the whole of the land from one coast to the other. I would prove my valor and worth. Maybe women might be better welcomed as warriors and in other occupations if I was to prove that I could be an equal force. Men would not get in my way in love or in war.
***
How do you like this chapter? Oh review me, please. Allow me to beg for you. Please!!! Review for me every chapter. Nothing could make me happier. -Teqon Weare
REMEMBER: The entire Theoden thing is on purpose. It fits into the storyline later on.
***
As the years of my childhood drew near to their close Grima's influence over my father became more evident... and more devastating. The man was bent on controlling Rohan even if he had to hide behind my dear deluded father. All despised Grima if not only for the unjust tyranny he created over the kingdom then they hated him for weakening their once strong and loyal King who had brought them into Rohan's Age of Prospering. For doing such the Snake was dubbed as Grima the Wormtongue by all, and this did not please him.
I never meant to please the Snake. No, not by any means did I. Let me reiterate that I utterly loathed him. I cannot say it enough. I hated him. I named my sword, Grime, after him with the obvious implications. Oh! To run him through would be a pleasure to savor above even an elven bath.
He did indeed do all possible to ruin my life. He stared at me for hours with his small dark beady black eyes. He followed me down empty corridors. He STALKED me. It really frightened me at times, but I could not allow him to see this. He could not best me. I would not allow it. But the last thing I wanted was to have that greasy snake breathing down my neck.
Having corrupted the mind of my father he was in position to strike me down. And oh he found reason to. He was enraged that I spurned him so. One night after a late supper he cornered me in the dark hall outside my bedroom and pushed me against the wall holding my wrists above my shoulders. Quite a feat for his lanky crooked frame, I think of later. He did the strangest and most unnerving thing just then. He sniffed my hair. I could hear him suck air in through his nostrils in a heavy unnatural rhythm. His dark eyes squinted more than is normal, and his forehead wrinkled up in piles of furious folds of sallow skin. His frail bony pale hand swished up in a delicate meticulous fashion and ran its spindly finger down the side of my face and across my neck in a latently malicious gesture.
His cold voice left me trembling with a withheld consternation as he began speaking, "You will be mine, young one. This I promise you. Your wretched schemes to evade me will earn you nothing in the end. When all is set in motion only a few others and I will stand. You! You will be at my knees in the end! This is my oath to you. I will break you." His fingers were cold as they slid down my frame and replaced themselves brusquely on my shoulders.
I practically bore my teeth at him and he snickered in delight as if he enjoyed seeing me become defensive. As if I was a challenge to him.
'I will break you', he had said.
I will run him through before that happens. "You do not scare me, Wormtongue." Oh, but he honestly did.
I was one of the first to call him that to his face. "What, did you call me, you filthy wench?" He raised his arm and ripped it across my cheek. The only other person who had labeled him Wormtongue to his face was drawn and quartered under false charges of treason against the King. He laughed again in a mirthless tone as he stood back, letting me go, and sneered at me, "Oh, what a pleasure breaking you shall be, child. I will leave you now. Remember what I have said." He strode off with his filthy cloak billowing behind him as a light flickered across the stonewalls at the opposite end of the corridor.
I slid down the wall to the cold floors when I was sure he was gone. The light steadily grew brighter illuminating my path but not my mind as my brother, Eomer, tore down the hall.
"He did not bother you did he? I saw him pursuing you and came as soon as dear old da was finished hollering at me." Eomer panted out of breath but relieved to see me in one piece.
"I will kill him." I said with a tone seriousness. Eomer knew what was going on between Grima and I, but he could do just as much about it as I could. Grima had relieved me of my sword, and with good reason. His life depended on it.
I looked up to see my brother begin to smile his elegant but genuine smile of his. "I do not doubt you. Never-the-less you must remain prudent in your decisions. He is a formidable foe, sister."
***
My mother, I love her dearly, but she began calling suitors for me when I turned fifteen. I had no use for men. Not the way she meant for me to.
I hunted with Faramir, youngest son of the Steward of Gondor, for many years. We had been playmates since we were babes. We have always been the best of friends. When my mother brought him to our hall as a suitor I told her she was ridiculous and spirited out of doors with chagrin. He was my companion! We swam in the Entwash together at the cottage our families shared! Our families had been linked together in friendship for generations. The family of Denethor is practically kin to me in my heart.
My mother was insane to think that I would ever consider engagement to Faramir much less any other man. I had a destiny. I was to become the best swordswoman in Middle Earth. Not just in Rohan but the whole of the land from one coast to the other. I would prove my valor and worth. Maybe women might be better welcomed as warriors and in other occupations if I was to prove that I could be an equal force. Men would not get in my way in love or in war.
***
How do you like this chapter? Oh review me, please. Allow me to beg for you. Please!!! Review for me every chapter. Nothing could make me happier. -Teqon Weare
