The beginning of a new life Chapter four
While I looked at the peaceful planes of Golden Grasslands under the gentle moonlight a sigh left my lips. It had been more than a month since my arrival to Avalon, the crescent moon told me that much. Only three weeks until the full moon that signalled the Council's next meeting.
The beautiful landscape eased my troubled mind, and the scent coming from the freshly trimmed grass and flowers added a dozing sensation that made it all the more comforting for me. But from there, up on the front parapet of Epona's castle, the fields looked so familiar to me. Yes, it was just like Edoras, the same planes could be seen from the same vantage point in Meduseld. Rohan, the land only years before I wanted to see covered in shadows and reduced to ashes...
I shuddered in revulsion at the memory. How I had been so depraved as to desire to see a Kingdom lessened to mere dust? Not only a Kingdom, but their people, all turned to ruins, all spoiled and consumed. But, was I truly repented?
'No, you are not.' That voice again, talking from inside me, using that leering tone I myself used when I was back at Edoras. Yes, that voice I knew could make people feel shivers running up their spine and fall under my spell. 'They were mean to you, all of them. The adults feared and hated you for they didn't understand the gifts you had and judged you based on your looks. The children ran away from your path, calling you names, hatred painted all over their angelical faces. The woman you loved and worshiped turned her back on you, crushing all your hopes, looking at you as you was the most disgusting maggot on Middle Earth. Admit it, Wormtongue, you wanted them dead, to the last one of them...'
"Enough, no more, that's not true!" I came out from the trance, shaking violently, cold sweat bathing my face. The shadows had attacked me again. Even here, surrounded by all this magnificence, they didn't stop. And their voice was mine, no other than the spellbinding cadence, which my victims danced at.
"Gríma?" Epona's voice startled me. She was as silent in her stride as any other fairy.
"I...was..." I stuttered, these sudden assaults left me speechless and so confused. I was so tired, felt so defeated.
"Nah, you don't have to explain it to me, my friend. Even I have some argument with myself from time to time. Yes, my courtiers pretend they don't hear my weird monologues, but I know they do. It's quite normal to try to battle our inner demons and a loud reprimand works just nicely." She was smiling beatifically. She fixed her eyes on the horizon, satisfaction tinting her face. She was wearing a dress now, very simple in its confection, not the princess-like kind of gown. Epona was a straightforward creature, though she was not pretentious at all, she just looked regal, no matter what she wore. So much like Éowyn in her exterior, yet so different in disposition.
"I apologize for that odd display."
"No, I apologize, for interfering in your quarrel. I know people like to have those kind of "arguments" in private. Besides I understand how you feel, Gríma, your face tells what your lips keep unspoken. I have been at Meduseld too, and I know how painful this view can be for you." She looked at me again, her pure blue eyes like a beacon in the dim light. I didn't read pity of commiseration in her expression but plain sympathy.
I felt a little discomfiture, like I had been discovered in the middle of a sin; though as her hand landed on my shoulder reassuringly I became calm. "This is strange, I never thought I could find acceptance from you, I mean, you look..." I caught myself, as I was doing exactly what Rohirrim had done with me, judging her based in her appearance.
"Rohirrim? Yes, I know, some blood from those noble, simple people runs in my veins. Do not misunderstand me, Gríma, I still resent the damage you did to them. It was mean and malicious...but you already paid dearly for that. I know how you were used by Saruman. Even when you were willing, I can't deny the power that his tongue had over others. So, I don't condemn you, because I can't say I would act different in the same situation." She removed her hand from my shoulder.
"I didn't want to harm them, really, nor overthrown the land. Not at the beginning. I wished this for Rohan. I look at your dominion and see Rohan, not like it is, but as it could be." I said more for myself than for her.
"I know. Maybe I am not as wise as Queen Mab, but I have some skills in measuring people's heart. I reckon your soul is basically inclined to righteousness, though you missed your path somewhere. Perhaps if they hadn't been so rude with you, or if Saruman had not crossed your way, you wouldn't be in this situation right now. Though, maybe you would never know your wife also. I don't know, God's ways are strange. "
I nodded and looked again at the plains. Who would be now sitting in the place of the counsellor? Would he be as cunning as myself? Would he look nicely after the best interest of Rohan? I shook my head that was not my problem anymore.
Shaking away the questions about the actual state of affairs in Rohan, I asked nonchalantly "I only have a question. What kind of inner demons do you quarrel with?"
"Ah, the ones that insist in giving a good punch in the middle of the face of annoying people...as my cousin Willow." At her own remark she burst in a hearty laughter.
I could do nothing but laugh as well.
"You should try to laugh more often, Gríma." She turned her back and walked away.
Twice in a day I have been told about this. What was so special in laughter or smiles? I have done it before...long time ago when I was but a child. It felt good, yes, but nothing more. There were some things in Fairy behaviour that I surely didn't understand.
We left Golden Grasslands after three days. The pact had been sealed, and both parts were pleased.
We rode to the limits, my escort, my judges and me. Epona accompanied us all the way, her joyful air was contagious, and soon we were sharing our impressions of the future, some anecdotes from her own collection and some really indecent jokes from Robin's stock. Epona laughed at them, as well as Oona. To be honest, I laughed too, though my face was burning in embarrassment.
When we reached the hills Epona and I dismounted for our farewells. She came to me, extended her hand and I courteously kissed it.
"Definitely, I could get used to this." Then she moved to me, embraced me tightly, and gave me a little peck on the cheek. She didn't lose her hug and whispered in my ear. "Do not be afraid for the Rohirrim, Gríma, I will look after them. Never fear, your wish will be granted." She let me go and mounted on her horse. Before I could say anything else, she was riding towards the horizon.
"Epona is a special lass," commented Robin, from the back of Oona's pony.
"Very special, no doubt," I said, while I mounted on my steed again.
I had been through torture, pain and through humiliation. But nothing prepared me for the perfect agony of lessons in swordsmanship. The most amazing thing was that I was supposed to be grateful with my executioner...I mean, my trainer.
"Come on, my Lord, try to defeat me, you are not putting your spirit into the battle." Voice like thunder, and limbs as tree trunks, Gavin was the captain of our army. I had never seen a fairy as tall and stocky as him...and never met a sword so unmerciful as his.
I was just ready to faint. Was it possible that this damnation followed me even here? Use a sword, something I never accomplished finely. Rohirrim weapons were so heavy for my little frame, that I quit trying to learn how to use them. Of course, later in my life I found another kind of sword that was more my style, a curved blade brought directly from Harad, light and sharp as a razor. I learned its use after a while, never was a master, but knew how to defend myself. Though, I neglected practicing when my other skill was evidently more useful. Yes, a sharp wit and a skilled tongue were just as powerful weapons.
I have to admit that the blade Banshee provided for me was quite light. The armour I was wearing was comfortable as well. But nevertheless I was not accustomed to battle. "What about having a little rest?" I offered, lowering my sword and removing my helmet. My hair was sticky with sweat and it was pasted to my face.
"All right, my Lord, but only five minutes. Your abilities with the blade are not a good match for your trading skills. Even my sister could defeat you in less than five seconds."
Ah, Gavin's subtlety was amazing! He was as delicate as a Troll on the loose! Though, I had seen his dear sister, and she looked like she could bring down a pack of Orcs with her bare hands; so, considering well his "compliment", it had not been an offence. "Maybe you are right, but I don't know why I have to learn to defend myself. I mean, how often we enter in war?"
"Not often, I admit, but it doesn't hurt to be ready. Besides, the Prince and Princess of the land are supposed to command the army, and our dear Lady Banshee is very good with her blade, so you should be at her side if the time comes."
My beloved wife knew how to fight with a sword? That was news to me. I sighed and put on the helmet. "Let's see if I can learn a little more, Gavin, I would try not to disappoint Banshee."
"Ha! That's the spirit, Lord Gríma!" Gavin exclaimed and proceeded to torture me for a while more.
"How did your training go?" Banshee's voice startled me, I was still changing from my battle attire into my formal ones.
"Not so bad." I lied, and winced when I slipped on my leggings. Just that movement made my entire body hurt.
She chuckled, mirth tinting her beautiful face. "Oh, really? Well, for the way in you move, I think I would excuse you with our guests for dinner. You seem in very bad need of a hot bath and a long nap."
"No, I am fine." I straightened my posture and a very loud crack from my spine betrayed me.
"Well, there goes your façade, Gríma. Come on, don't play the invulnerable fairy with me. I will send the servants to fill in the tub, then they will help you not to drown in it. If your body is hurting the half mine did when I was taking my lessons, you surely will need help to dress up for bed."
I could do nothing but oblige. Certainly sitting at the dining table was something that didn't appeal me in the least.
When I was finally in my bed, the remains of my light meal filling in the tray that Banshee had put in front of me I was ready to enter dreamland.
"I never though training could make one's body ache so fiercely." I was feeling dozy.
"Don't worry, the salve I put on your legs and arms would ease the pain, and you will be feeling better for your lessons tomorrow."
"Argh, I will be astounded if I survive a week under Gavin's heartless classes."
"You will, I did it myself. He is a good teacher, the best in what he does. Soon you will feel not more aches, as soon as you get used to training, that's it." She kissed me on the lips and walked away, carrying the tray with her.
Before she could reach the door I asked "How long did it take you?"
"Oh, like a month or two, I can't remember." She smiled and left the room.
'Perfect! A month! I would be dead at this rate.' I sighed in commiseration of my future and before I could notice I slip into dreamland.
I was there, at Ithilien, looking the city from the sky. I felt the breeze softly moving under my wings and chilling my face. I looked at myself and noticed I was wearing my every day clothes, blue brocade short tunic over velvet leggings and suede boots up to my middle thighs. When did I change to these garments from the nightshirt I was wearing? Moreover, how in Avalon's name had I got here without memory of my trip?
I glided down to the city, as it was the most natural thing, and landed on one of the towers. I looked down from my place. The city was full of activity, people moving everywhere, rebuilding the houses, repairing the damaged streets. I could recognize some Elves too, busy with the attention to the new gardens. Yes, gardens, simple patches of grass here and there, but filled with new plants that were supposed to grow up into trees and bushes. Then, I saw them, Dwarves, working laboriously the stone and turning them into perfect blocks.
I was amazed, Elves and Dwarves working together, moving among Men? Now, that surely was not a common sight.
"But, my Lady, you don't pretend to go out to the fields with that attire." The female's voice made me look to the parapet that was just below me, some twelve feet from my point. My eyes were wide in shock. There were two women there, one was an old handmaid, the other was no other than Éowyn. My Fairish eyes could not deceive me, the White Lady of Edoras was there, dressed in riding clothes, her golden hair combed in a tight chignon. A strange feeling nested inside my soul, it had been so long since the last time I saw her. It was like watching some old friend that had been away for decades and suddenly you find him in your path. Where that fierce devotion that I felt for her had gone? Had I really sold my own soul and destiny to Saruman for her?
"Of course I will go wearing this. You don't think I will use one of those taffeta gowns or lovely dresses to ride on my mare, do you?" She answered, adjusting her leather gloves in place.
I looked intently at her. Her hair had changed somehow, it looked not so lovely to me now, yes golden and long, but I had seen the pure gold of Fairish hair now, and it was far more beautiful. Her eyes were the same, blue like the sky, though not as pure and kaleidoscopic as the blue eyes of Epona's or her people's. Her body was slender as always, but not with the lilting quality of Banshee's form, moving like a spike of wheat swaying softly with the wind. I even noticed that she had small freckles on her thin nose. Had those been there before? Has she changed so much in so short time? Or was just me who had changed?
"But is not proper, you are the Princess of Ithilien! What are the people going to think of you if they saw you riding in such a fashion?" The old woman was truly annoyed and scandalized.
"Let her be, Rowan, besides, I will go with her. You are not scolding me because I am wearing my riding clothes, are you?" The man talking was Faramir, the youngest son of the Steward of Gondor. It's been years since I saw him the last time in one of my trips to Gondor. That time I knew a lanky boy, the first stub of golden beard barely adorning his adolescent chin. But now I was looking a grown up man, handsome disposition and strong and beautiful frame.
"But, she is a female!" the handmaid replied.
"You are dismissed, Rowan." Faramir said, and the servant bowed, a disapproving look on her face.
"She is really angry, I think I would have to change of personal handmaid once again, since I reckon she won't be eager to serve me anymore." Éowyn let go an exasperated sigh.
"Don't worry, love, she will get used to you with time. It's only this attitude of yours that is so disconcerting, but what one would expect from a brave Shield Maiden from Rohan?" Faramir's tone held a great deal of amusement
"I told you that I am not a Shield Maiden anymore, I left my sword for you." Éowyn's face was filled with sorrow.
"And I told you, my dear wife, that it's totally unnecessary to throw away your beliefs for me. I know you love to hold a sword and to ride through the fields. Besides, I loved you because of your courage, not because you are beautiful...though it helped a lot." Faramir took her in his arms and kissed her passionately.
So, they were married? Well, it seemed the White Lady's love had been conquered at last. I looked at their display and noticed that my heart felt not pained in the least. I was happy for her, sincerely happy. I had known her since she was a baby, saw her growing up into the courageous and strong woman she was, and could do nothing but recognize that my emotions towards her had never been more than a warm feeling of sympathy. I comprehended her, because she was just like me somehow. She wanted to be accepted for what she was, valued for her braveness and courage. Until now I realized that I never truly held for her that fierce scorching feeling that I held for my wife.
As they broke their kiss I smiled. This man was a fine one, and loved her in a way she deserved. For the first time I could feel tenderness filling my heart. Really an amazing occurrence for someone like me.
"Well, my warrior, are you ready to race against me?" she said, her face coloured with a rosy shade that made her freckles look even lovely.
"I will, but I know you will make me bite your dust, as ever." Faramir was looking at her with adoration painted all over his face.
They left the parapet, hand in hand. I looked after them for a long while, treasuring the new sensation that packed me. I knew I was smiling goofily, like those old women do when they see a cute couple of lovers obviously suited to each other. I knew it, but I didn't care, because such a rare feeling was good indeed.
Suddenly, I felt like I had been pulled away, and then an odd sensation of falling endlessly. With a start I woke up, and found myself stretched on my bed, Banshee's resting form cuddled against mine.
"That was weird!" I exclaimed, noticing I was wearing my nightshirt again.
"Did you have a nightmare, my love?" Banshee soothing voice reached my ears and it eased my confusion.
"No, it was not a bad dream, I think it was not a dream at all." I tried to explain it, more for myself than for her.
"I see. Go to sleep, dear, you need to recover your strength, tomorrow morning you have sword practice again."
I winced, reality could be so disappointing. Though I embraced her to me and dozed lulled by the calm rhythm of her breathing.
After my daily session of torture, I found myself walking through corridors without a clear goal. The memory of my dream left me so confused, yet in fact had awakened something inside me. What it was? I could not say. I felt the need to tell to someone. Banshee was not my option. I was not eager to confess to her that I had dreamed of Éowyn, no matter the dream had involved another man married to her. I had not experience in the field, but I knew by pure logic that telling Banshee could be very improper...not to mention dangerous for me.
"Hello, Gríma, enjoying the lovely lessons in swordsmanship?" Robin, always a thorn in my side. In fact, he pocked my ribs in a very rude fashion, making me remember the full blow I had received there when I left my guard down.
"I will be more grateful if you don't do that again, Robin." I grunted, giving him a quite distinctive glare. I had learned that things with him could be not so ceremoniously. In fact, he hated diplomacy in all its ways and only used it sparely when it was absolutely necessary.
"Ah, the delights of practice for battle! I can remember quite well my lessons...I hated them with a passion. For my peaceful self, war and combat are things totally distasteful, not to mention a spoil of good time and valuable lives. Why not to settle things in a better and more pleasant way? You know an adult conversation sharing a mug of ale could help to ease the most difficult differences among enemies. "
For my own opinion, Robin's idea was really a silly one. I could imagine the picture: Saruman sharing a mug of ale with King Théoden and Théoden's words "See, Saruman, old friend, I must ask you to stop attacking my people and my lands with your army of Orcs. That is quite annoying, you know?". I could not muffle an incredulous snort. "Well, Robin, sometimes the "differences" are not so easy to improve. I assure you Sauron would never attend and invitation for tea. Especially if such an invitation came from the King of Gondor."
"I was not talking about that kind of war. But, I would tell you, since I can remember, none of our dominions had entered in war before. Of course, it has been some conflicting words exchanged between two princesses or princes, and even some magic duels. These preparations for war and combat are unnecessary. Though this is only my humble opinion."
I hadn't notice that our little chat had headed our steps to a balcony. As I looked outside, my thoughts about the dream returned to me.
"Well, if it's not the most strange expression I've seen in your face. What thoughts plague your mind, Gríma?"
I was surprised by these words. Clearly I had forgotten who my companion was. "Nothing" I lied miserably. For some reason lying to Robin was quite difficult.
"Really? That "nothing" has to be very disturbing, because I swear I never saw you so distressed before."
"I...had a really strange dream." Before I noticed I was telling my dream to him. I found it was impossible to stop once the first words left my lips. He probably used his magic on me, there was not another explanation. But, with each word, my soul felt more and more relieved. When I was finally done, I looked in wonder at Robin, feeling annoyed by his intrusion. Though, at the same time, the relief that I felt could not be more wonderful.
"So, that's it? Well, you certainly are not informed about Fairy's abilities to leave their bodies behind and go on ethereal trips. It happens when a Fairy's body is ill or exhausted. For us, illness is very rare, exhaustion and pain are not. In such situations, the spirit decides to left the body for some time and go to more pleasant places, while the distress passes away. With some training you can do it at will."
"Then, it was not a dream."
"From your description I could tell it was not. But, in fact you were not angry because your former love is married with another one?"
"She never was my love, and no, I was not angry. In fact, I was happy for her. I found out many things about myself in this "trip" as you call it." There I was, confessing my feelings to one of my judges, yet if felt good.
"Which kind of things?"
"Well, I felt touched, in my heart, that's it. It was like...I can't describe it with words, something so different, and good."
"That is surprising...and enlightening. It shows your spirit is not so lost after all. Don't worry I won't tell a word. This is just between you and me. I know how fastidious women are when it comes to matters of past love- interests." He was grinning widely.
"I shall thank you for your help...and your secrecy."
"Never mind, my friend. I will do what ever it takes to disentangle this mess my sister and you are into. To my eyes, dear Gríma, it looks like your case is not so hopeless as I first..."
Suddenly, a piercing howl, so loud it made all the crystal panels tremble and my ears hurt, filled the air. "What in the name of Avalon was that!" I exclaimed.
Robin was pale as a ghost and trembling in fear. "That, my friend, is your dear wife's cry of war." He started running towards the place where the cry had come from.
I did the same, my spirit filled suddenly with a dark presentiment. When we reached the Throne Hall we did it in time to see a scared stranger leaving it, his pale face was ashen to the point of terror, his motions were totally uneven because the tremor that possessed his body.
The stranger was tall, and lean, dressed all in white. One could mistake him for an Elf. His demeanour told volumes of his status, surely he was an ambassador. But, where did he come from? He directed a foul glare at me, something I had seen before in Rohan...but never here in Avalon, in my own home. Then, he just tried to pull himself together, and headed towards the doors of the castle.
I entered the Hall, and my eyes looked in fear at my wife. She was enraged, her true self showing in all its terrifying splendour, her black wings unfolded, her upper lip withdrawn in a hideous grimace as to left her long fangs visible. She was shaking too, but not in fright, she was furious, as I had never seen her before.
I collected myself as much as the vision left me and went to her side. "Banshee, my love, what is troubling you so much?" My question sounded quivering, but I could not help it.
She just handed me a piece of parchment.
I took it reluctant and read it. What I could skim in black and white, was that Willow Goldenrod, Lord of the Sow Fields, would not enter in trade anymore with our dominion, as he considered me not deserving of my present status. He would not sell anything to us, for as long as I stayed in the throne of Shadowy Woods. I felt all the blood drain from my body, and a knot of fury forming in my guts. That arrogant bastard! I looked at Banshee, and realized her anger had not receded in the least. "What are we going to do?"
Banshee's expression changed from fury to something that terrified me even more. She was grinning, her fangs showing entirely, her face the image of evilness "I already did what he forced me to do. I declared war on his dominion."
I could not help my gasp of horror. Searching for advice I looked at Robin.
He just shook his head and turning his back to me, walked outside the Hall.
TBC