Chapter four
In which our Heroine sets out once again
Yet another harsh winter, Grima reflected from his makeshift shelter. The winds blew cold here, he thought, as cold as the winds of Rhun. He huddled closer to the fire, shivering. It was bearable, he supposed. He had decided to tarry only a little while before pressing on, through the worst of the weather. After that, only the last lengths past the dwarf infested Lonely Mountain and it's equally overrun village of Dale stood between him and his homeland. He was almost there, and he felt daunted by its nearness, the termination of his journey, and the confrontation with all that he had abandoned.
Soon it would be time for the Snake to shed its skin, and try and become that what he once was, should have been, in another life.
He would take up his family's office, if none were still living. There would be people living there still, he knew. The Rhunland bred a hardy and indomitable people, despite their seeming frailty. For all his paleness and slight, angular body, he shared their steely determination to survive, to succeed, and these past years of hardship had brought him new strength. He had walked and ridden for miles each day, stopping only to sleep and had endured seemingly all Middle earth could throw at him.
It was his hatred for Saurman that had kept him going, he knew. The Evil Wizard had died by his own dagger, that he kept even now by his side, and thoughts of the Wizard's demise alone was his solace, for even thoughts of Eowyn were tinged with pain, and were more a penance than a comfort. As the purple night drew in, Grima cried, his thoughts of his just punishment, this endless tearing maelstrom in his mind, alone for so long in the wilderness, so alone that he felt as if he might be the only man alive in the world.
It was late spring before Legolas returned from his border patrols. Eowyn felt sure that this was a subtle punishment for his fraternising with humans, as the Elf King was known for his narrow-minded attitudes and would not have approved of his youngest son planning to leave his lands once again in the company of a southern noblewoman. As soon as he had returned, Eowyn sought him out and spoke to him again about her vision and the nature of her feelings, and was relived when he listened patiently and did not scorn her, as a human would have done. The Shield maiden was confident that the Elven race was more sensitive than others when it came to such delicate things as feelings and emotions, things she had had little experience of since her childhood. Legolas took her to an empty glade and sat with her beneath the boughs of a strong old oak tree and asked her what she had left out of her tale when she had told it last. "If you do not know why you seek him, you do not know what you will do when you find him." He said, showing wisdom beyond his age. "That is true enough, Mellonamin." Eowyn said with a sigh, "I have though upon my predicament many times, but cannot reach a conclusion." "Tell me," the Elf Prince asked thoughtfully, "how have you felt since you learned of Wormtongue's escape?" he looked at her quizzically, and Eowyn could see that he had formed an idea. "Strange," she answered truthfully, "I can't seem to stop thinking about him, how he had been so trusted by my King before the war. Whenever I dwell on my past involvement with him, I get this strange feeling in my throat, as if I should cough, but it doesn't go away...a twisting, breathless feeling. I don't think its something I have ever felt before." Legolas looked at her as if appraising her, as if he had never seen her before. "How would you want him to be when you meet him again?" "I should like to find him repentant. I want him to regret the atrocities he helped cause." She said resolutely. "If not, then I shall kill him with my own hand." "And what if he is not? What if he laughs when you approach him and insults you?" the Elf said. Eowyn gave a little gasp at this question and replied quite breathlessly. "Oh, my lord Grima would do no such thing! Grima had always... unless...." She stopped, searching for the right words, her hands clasped over her heart. Legolas appraised her answer, learning more from this unwitting answer than she could know. "If he is yet living, then it is certain that he still holds me in that high regard that he has always done. He would not insult me, unless his affection was all design." Eowyn said, amazed at the words she spoke, as she realised the implications of her words. She looked to Legolas for his interpretation. "Do you mean to imply that his regard for me was false?" she said. "It could be, my Lady. We do not know how long Saurman had him, how long he was a traitor to your country. It may be that even now, he travels east to Mordor, in search of a master to serve there." Eowyn spoke no more of her thoughts that day, the Elf's words concerning Grima going around and around in her head.
Eowyn passed the next few weeks in a thought-filled daze, sending her handmaiden away to leave her in privacy as she assimilated the new feelings that her dialogue with Legolas had given her. In her brief moments of clear thought, Eowyn knew she had treated her servant girl poorly, and resolved to try and be more appreciative of her company in future, as scarce as that was, as Thalie seemed more content each day, and it would be difficult to convince her to leave Mirkwood, and the handsome guard she had taken up with. When eventually her mind cleared and she could accept the truth of her feelings, she found that preparations were already underway for their intended journey. All that remained was to find out where Grima had been headed. As the Kingsman had recovered sufficiently from his ailment, Eowyn questioned him as to what he had learned about the man he had followed from the Shire.
From his description of a tall, thin man with black hair and a black cloak, she had concluded that the man could indeed be Grima Wormtongue, but it was still only a possibility. The mountains she described to him he recognised immediately as the Ered Michrin, the Grey Mountains, the Spine of Middle earth, where he had been tracking the man from the Shire before he fell ill. The other he suspected was the Lonely Mountain, a dwarven city in a once Dragon wasted plain. Beyond that, lay very little, save the inhospitable Rhunland, and the Inland Sea. Legolas had arranged for new Elf-Bred horses for their party, beautiful, noble creatures, with endurance and intelligence far surpassing that of normal beasts, he assured her. Eowyn almost spoke up in favour of the Beasts of her homeland, the meldused animals known to rescue their riders and carry them home if they fell, but wisely stopped herself, as such a speech might offend the noble Prince who had been so kind and generous to her. In their preparations, Eowyn noticed that Thalie had become sad, and she wondered what troubled her. Once she found her crying as she packed bundles of Lembas bread in a pannier, and The Noblewoman took her aside and persuaded her to tell what she was so upset about. "My Lady," she stuttered, "I have brought dishonour upon us." "How, in middle earth?" Eowyn asked, incredulously. The young girl looked down, ashamed. "I am with child." Eowyn's eyes opened wide in amazement. "Is it of the Guardsman you are so fond of?" she asked, knowing it to be true before she could reply. "It is Dathomir's babe, I am certain...there has been no other, my lady." She almost whispered before bursting into hot, fretful tears. Eowyn attempted to console her as best she could, promising her that she would make it right, she would solve her problem, and all would be well. When the girl lay sleeping in her chamber, Eowyn left to find Legolas, and tell him of this new development. She found him in the Guardhall, making merry with his fellow officers. She discreetly drew him away from the prying ears of the inquisitive guardsmen and told her tale as he listened in disbelief. "Your maid is with child by my Lieutenant Dathomir?" "It is certain. Is there a way...could he hold any real fondness for the girl?" "It may be so, my Lady. Dathomir is my cousin, and was ever a gallant and noble officer. I have not known him take up with anyone, elf or human before now, and as such he may be willing to save your maid from dishonour." "But how could such a thing be accomplished?" Eowyn asked eagerly. "I will talk with my cousin and find out his feelings. If he would be Husband to your Maid, then he shall come with us to Esgaroth, where I have a contingent of Elven military under my command. They are stationed there permanently, to defend the City upon the long lake, as part of a treaty between the Bardson, who rules the City, and my honoured Father. There I shall place him in command, and there he may live happily with your girl, and shall not come under much scrutiny by my authority." Eowyn smiled, relieved. If this guard were as noble as he claimed, there would be no doubt that he would honour his sweetheart. "That is a good arrangement. Then you must hurry, Mellonamin, and ask him. Thalie will make him a good wife, as I'm sure he already knows." She said gratefully, and left to lie by her Handmaid, to be sure of her not waking to fret alone.
Within the week, with the gnarled trees beginning to be green and lush in their summer clothing, the merry band set off for Esgaroth, Eowyn cool in her thoughts and manner, her handmaid behind her driving a small cart that contained supplies for the journey, Legolas calm and commanding, his cheerful guard Dathomir riding at his side, glancing behind to smile at his Bride to be. The Kingsman rode behind, silent and vigilant.
Upon reaching Esgaroth Legolas placed the Gallant Dathomir in command of his troops, and found an official who married the happy pair. After finding them a place to live and making sure they did not want for any necessity, Eowyn tried almost successfully to shed her coldness once in private with the girl who had shared a great part of her life, and who had not once complained of her mistresses callous and unfeeling treatment. She held the young woman close and wished her joy, leaving her with a parting gift of a jewelled pendant she knew the girl admired, a more eloquent expression of her feelings than she knew how to give.
The next day, the Elf Prince and the Shield Maiden left the City, their cart pulled behind them by an Elven horse that needed no instruction, but would follow unless commanded otherwise. Their parting was not a sad one, and there were many promises on either side to return again sometime.
Eowyn was sad, however, and felt it as the night drew in, sitting around a fire, as the Ranger constructed shelters for them all. The tales Legolas told, elven stories about the stars and how they got their names, would have delighted Thalie, and Eowyn missed her, as she lay sleepless in her tent-like shelter later, listening to the noise of the habitually or naturally silent, as the wind whistled across the barren plain.
In which our Heroine sets out once again
Yet another harsh winter, Grima reflected from his makeshift shelter. The winds blew cold here, he thought, as cold as the winds of Rhun. He huddled closer to the fire, shivering. It was bearable, he supposed. He had decided to tarry only a little while before pressing on, through the worst of the weather. After that, only the last lengths past the dwarf infested Lonely Mountain and it's equally overrun village of Dale stood between him and his homeland. He was almost there, and he felt daunted by its nearness, the termination of his journey, and the confrontation with all that he had abandoned.
Soon it would be time for the Snake to shed its skin, and try and become that what he once was, should have been, in another life.
He would take up his family's office, if none were still living. There would be people living there still, he knew. The Rhunland bred a hardy and indomitable people, despite their seeming frailty. For all his paleness and slight, angular body, he shared their steely determination to survive, to succeed, and these past years of hardship had brought him new strength. He had walked and ridden for miles each day, stopping only to sleep and had endured seemingly all Middle earth could throw at him.
It was his hatred for Saurman that had kept him going, he knew. The Evil Wizard had died by his own dagger, that he kept even now by his side, and thoughts of the Wizard's demise alone was his solace, for even thoughts of Eowyn were tinged with pain, and were more a penance than a comfort. As the purple night drew in, Grima cried, his thoughts of his just punishment, this endless tearing maelstrom in his mind, alone for so long in the wilderness, so alone that he felt as if he might be the only man alive in the world.
It was late spring before Legolas returned from his border patrols. Eowyn felt sure that this was a subtle punishment for his fraternising with humans, as the Elf King was known for his narrow-minded attitudes and would not have approved of his youngest son planning to leave his lands once again in the company of a southern noblewoman. As soon as he had returned, Eowyn sought him out and spoke to him again about her vision and the nature of her feelings, and was relived when he listened patiently and did not scorn her, as a human would have done. The Shield maiden was confident that the Elven race was more sensitive than others when it came to such delicate things as feelings and emotions, things she had had little experience of since her childhood. Legolas took her to an empty glade and sat with her beneath the boughs of a strong old oak tree and asked her what she had left out of her tale when she had told it last. "If you do not know why you seek him, you do not know what you will do when you find him." He said, showing wisdom beyond his age. "That is true enough, Mellonamin." Eowyn said with a sigh, "I have though upon my predicament many times, but cannot reach a conclusion." "Tell me," the Elf Prince asked thoughtfully, "how have you felt since you learned of Wormtongue's escape?" he looked at her quizzically, and Eowyn could see that he had formed an idea. "Strange," she answered truthfully, "I can't seem to stop thinking about him, how he had been so trusted by my King before the war. Whenever I dwell on my past involvement with him, I get this strange feeling in my throat, as if I should cough, but it doesn't go away...a twisting, breathless feeling. I don't think its something I have ever felt before." Legolas looked at her as if appraising her, as if he had never seen her before. "How would you want him to be when you meet him again?" "I should like to find him repentant. I want him to regret the atrocities he helped cause." She said resolutely. "If not, then I shall kill him with my own hand." "And what if he is not? What if he laughs when you approach him and insults you?" the Elf said. Eowyn gave a little gasp at this question and replied quite breathlessly. "Oh, my lord Grima would do no such thing! Grima had always... unless...." She stopped, searching for the right words, her hands clasped over her heart. Legolas appraised her answer, learning more from this unwitting answer than she could know. "If he is yet living, then it is certain that he still holds me in that high regard that he has always done. He would not insult me, unless his affection was all design." Eowyn said, amazed at the words she spoke, as she realised the implications of her words. She looked to Legolas for his interpretation. "Do you mean to imply that his regard for me was false?" she said. "It could be, my Lady. We do not know how long Saurman had him, how long he was a traitor to your country. It may be that even now, he travels east to Mordor, in search of a master to serve there." Eowyn spoke no more of her thoughts that day, the Elf's words concerning Grima going around and around in her head.
Eowyn passed the next few weeks in a thought-filled daze, sending her handmaiden away to leave her in privacy as she assimilated the new feelings that her dialogue with Legolas had given her. In her brief moments of clear thought, Eowyn knew she had treated her servant girl poorly, and resolved to try and be more appreciative of her company in future, as scarce as that was, as Thalie seemed more content each day, and it would be difficult to convince her to leave Mirkwood, and the handsome guard she had taken up with. When eventually her mind cleared and she could accept the truth of her feelings, she found that preparations were already underway for their intended journey. All that remained was to find out where Grima had been headed. As the Kingsman had recovered sufficiently from his ailment, Eowyn questioned him as to what he had learned about the man he had followed from the Shire.
From his description of a tall, thin man with black hair and a black cloak, she had concluded that the man could indeed be Grima Wormtongue, but it was still only a possibility. The mountains she described to him he recognised immediately as the Ered Michrin, the Grey Mountains, the Spine of Middle earth, where he had been tracking the man from the Shire before he fell ill. The other he suspected was the Lonely Mountain, a dwarven city in a once Dragon wasted plain. Beyond that, lay very little, save the inhospitable Rhunland, and the Inland Sea. Legolas had arranged for new Elf-Bred horses for their party, beautiful, noble creatures, with endurance and intelligence far surpassing that of normal beasts, he assured her. Eowyn almost spoke up in favour of the Beasts of her homeland, the meldused animals known to rescue their riders and carry them home if they fell, but wisely stopped herself, as such a speech might offend the noble Prince who had been so kind and generous to her. In their preparations, Eowyn noticed that Thalie had become sad, and she wondered what troubled her. Once she found her crying as she packed bundles of Lembas bread in a pannier, and The Noblewoman took her aside and persuaded her to tell what she was so upset about. "My Lady," she stuttered, "I have brought dishonour upon us." "How, in middle earth?" Eowyn asked, incredulously. The young girl looked down, ashamed. "I am with child." Eowyn's eyes opened wide in amazement. "Is it of the Guardsman you are so fond of?" she asked, knowing it to be true before she could reply. "It is Dathomir's babe, I am certain...there has been no other, my lady." She almost whispered before bursting into hot, fretful tears. Eowyn attempted to console her as best she could, promising her that she would make it right, she would solve her problem, and all would be well. When the girl lay sleeping in her chamber, Eowyn left to find Legolas, and tell him of this new development. She found him in the Guardhall, making merry with his fellow officers. She discreetly drew him away from the prying ears of the inquisitive guardsmen and told her tale as he listened in disbelief. "Your maid is with child by my Lieutenant Dathomir?" "It is certain. Is there a way...could he hold any real fondness for the girl?" "It may be so, my Lady. Dathomir is my cousin, and was ever a gallant and noble officer. I have not known him take up with anyone, elf or human before now, and as such he may be willing to save your maid from dishonour." "But how could such a thing be accomplished?" Eowyn asked eagerly. "I will talk with my cousin and find out his feelings. If he would be Husband to your Maid, then he shall come with us to Esgaroth, where I have a contingent of Elven military under my command. They are stationed there permanently, to defend the City upon the long lake, as part of a treaty between the Bardson, who rules the City, and my honoured Father. There I shall place him in command, and there he may live happily with your girl, and shall not come under much scrutiny by my authority." Eowyn smiled, relieved. If this guard were as noble as he claimed, there would be no doubt that he would honour his sweetheart. "That is a good arrangement. Then you must hurry, Mellonamin, and ask him. Thalie will make him a good wife, as I'm sure he already knows." She said gratefully, and left to lie by her Handmaid, to be sure of her not waking to fret alone.
Within the week, with the gnarled trees beginning to be green and lush in their summer clothing, the merry band set off for Esgaroth, Eowyn cool in her thoughts and manner, her handmaid behind her driving a small cart that contained supplies for the journey, Legolas calm and commanding, his cheerful guard Dathomir riding at his side, glancing behind to smile at his Bride to be. The Kingsman rode behind, silent and vigilant.
Upon reaching Esgaroth Legolas placed the Gallant Dathomir in command of his troops, and found an official who married the happy pair. After finding them a place to live and making sure they did not want for any necessity, Eowyn tried almost successfully to shed her coldness once in private with the girl who had shared a great part of her life, and who had not once complained of her mistresses callous and unfeeling treatment. She held the young woman close and wished her joy, leaving her with a parting gift of a jewelled pendant she knew the girl admired, a more eloquent expression of her feelings than she knew how to give.
The next day, the Elf Prince and the Shield Maiden left the City, their cart pulled behind them by an Elven horse that needed no instruction, but would follow unless commanded otherwise. Their parting was not a sad one, and there were many promises on either side to return again sometime.
Eowyn was sad, however, and felt it as the night drew in, sitting around a fire, as the Ranger constructed shelters for them all. The tales Legolas told, elven stories about the stars and how they got their names, would have delighted Thalie, and Eowyn missed her, as she lay sleepless in her tent-like shelter later, listening to the noise of the habitually or naturally silent, as the wind whistled across the barren plain.