AN: thankyou everyone for your kind reviews and support on this new fic of mine. Onwards I say!!
Standing in her room Eowyn was once again in a foul mood. She was being forced to wear a dress for the meal that night. Normally her uncle could care less about her breeches and shirts that she always wore; but whenever there was to be a big meal, King Theoden put his foot down and insisted she dressed like a lady.
"Are you sure I have to wear THIS one?" she complained to her maid.
It was her least favorite of her dresses, --well in truth, she hated ALL her dresses. Nevertheless, this one was terrible; it was a light purple with frilly layers and too many ties. Heavens above when she had to start wearing a bodice underneath all this as well! She would not be able to sit down.
The older lady shook her head and sighed. Always difficult it was, getting little Eowyn dressed. "Well my child, you do have to wear a dress tonight. Do you not want to look pretty for the Sons of the Steward?'
Her nose wrinkled into a frown. "I don't want to look pretty if it means I have to wear this dress." Staring at her reflection in the mirror she scowled. "I look like a wedding cake."
"And wedding cakes are pretty."
"Not as dresses."
"But you look pretty in it." The maid pleaded.
"Can I wear another dress?"
There was a long pause as the maid contemplated whether she wished to redo all the ties once more. "Fine." The lady sighed, defeated, "Which one?"
Eowyn trotted over to her closet and stood there for a moment, tapping her foot and pursing her lips in thought. "How about this one?" she said pulling one from the dark.
"My lady that is not a dress, that is your cousins' old night shirt that you took from him."
"But it is long like a dress."
"Eowyn..."
"I was rather hoping that you wouldn't notice."
"Eowyn..."
"Fine." After another moment of pondering, she pulled out a dark blue one. "Is this one alright?" she preferred it over her other dresses, it was easy to put on and there were hardly any layers to it. "It is my favorite color."
The old maid sighed again. "Alright child, blue is what you shall wear."
After many more minutes of undressing, dressing, brushing hair and braiding hair (much against Eowyn's will) she was ready to go down to dinner. She stepped out into the hallway and began to make her way towards the sounds of merry men and talking women. As she trotted her way down the hall, she was stopped by the clash of metal on metal. It was coming from a large window that looked over the practice fields. Eowyn glanced up and down the hallway; she should really be on her way to dinner right now—but watching whoever was in the sparing field would not take more than a few minutes. She stood in front of the tall window that was just above her head; reaching up with her arms she pulled herself up on the edge with a grunt.
"Stupid dress." She muttered as she tried to sit as best she could on the windowsill. Looking down at the beaten field her smoky eyes sparkled at the site below her. Two of the guards were practicing with the sword in the beaten down field, mounted on their horses. Eowyn watched, entranced as they quickly swung back and forth at each other. The ringing sound of two blades meeting was her favorite sound in the world.
"I wish I were that good." She spoke to herself. When she still lived with her parents her and Eomer would make frequent visits to see her uncle in Edoras, and every time they were there, Theodred would teach her a little more with the blade. Now that she lived here in the House of Theoden, she had daily lessons with her brother.
She sat there, amazed by the speed and agility that they possessed. Wishing and praying that when she grew up she could be a shield maiden and go into battle. Eowyn was broken harshly from her thoughts as a low voice surprised her.
"Should you not be in the hall My Lady?"
Eowyn bit her lip and swallowed nervously. She knew who was behind her. Raising her head high on her neck, she mentally told herself to stay strong. She turned slowly and came face to face with Grima Wormtounge. His pale complexion was sickening, and it looked like he had not seen the light of day in his years. His dark beady eyes stared into her very soul, giving Eowyn a haunting feeling that sent chills down her spine.
"What do you want?" she said, annoyed.
"You should be in the Hall now, My Lady. Your uncle is waiting for you." His ghostlike voice said. He reached up and moved a strand of dark greasy hair from his face before stretching out his hand to grab Eowyn around the waist to pull her down from the windowsill.
"Don't touch me!" Eowyn cried. She shoved his arm away and jumped down from the ledge. Her feet slipped out from underneath her as she made her speedy landing and she crashed to the floor.
"My Lady, you will ruin your dress laying on the stone." Once more Grima reached out his arm, this time to bring Eowyn to her feet.
Eowyn had hit her head quite hard when she landed. The shooting pain in her left eye made her want to cry out, but she bit her tongue to prevent it. 'I can not let him think I am afraid.' She told herself. In truth, she could not remember being more scared in her life, save for the last time she had been cornered by him. She felt his hands on her stomach and side as he began to pull her to her feet.
"Leave me alone!" she exclaimed. "I can get up myself!" She hated it more than ever when Worm touched her. Even through her clothes, she felt that his awfulness and clammy hands were rotting her flesh. Moving to her feet as quickly as possible, she felt a sharp pain in her forehead. Uncontrollably she let out a soft whimper as she held her hand to the forming bruise. Not wanting to let Grima see the fear in her eyes she turned away and ran down the hall as fast as she could, just wanting to get away from him.
From down the hall, a tall figure watched young Eowyn sprint away to the dinner hall. His feelings unsettled by the events that just happened by the window before him. He stayed hidden around the corner until the slouching dark figure was out of sight, before making his way to dinner.
TBC