Tell Me
The jostling as he was taken higher and higher within the tower made Eomer sick. His stomach already felt at odds from the pain he felt in his shoulder, and as he was thrown to the ground, Eomer purged anything in his stomach.
He coughed and spit on the gray stone. And then the orc that carried him kicked him.
Eomer's body slid back and he couldn't suppress a groan. His body heaved, shuddering as he tried to vomit again. Nothing came, but the pain he felt seemed to travel back and forth from his shoulder to his stomach.
Orcs had poisoned arrows, he knew, but he wasn't sure if that was what caused him this extreme pain. It might have simply been how he was moved here. Or it might be seeing Selanae so . . . evil.
She stood before him now, though Eomer couldn't recall seeing her since his capture. Beside her was that thing, with the huge teeth and mouth.
"Sauron bids you find all he knows, and then report to him," the thing said to her. Eomer watched, horrified as she nodded with that sickening gleam in her eyes. The thing retreated from her side, but stayed in the room. Eomer glanced between it and Selanae.
"His sword?" she asked suddenly. A goblin brought it forward. She picked it up, gave it one look, and tossed it aside. "Have you searched him?"
The goblin shook his head, and moved forward.
"Leave us," came a harsh command from Selanae. The goblin froze, his eyes on Eomer. But he bowed and left, rather hastily. It was only him, Selanae, and the thing now.
And Eomer couldn't deny he felt terrified.
She circled him, her boots making the only noise other than his ragged breathing. Her eyes never left him, and Eomer found it hard to return the gaze with any sense of courage. Part of him was disgusted.
She looked so . . . dead. Her eyes were outlined with black. Her hair, normally soft and brown, looked darker now and harsh like the rest of her. Eomer noticed the armor she wore, especially the sharp metal bits embedded on the gloved hands, the boots, her elbows—anywhere that could inflict more harm.
On me.
She suddenly knelt with one knee on his chest, the other by his side. The quick move had Eomer gasping, though he scolded himself for showing it. His mind raced with thoughts, wondering why she had turned, why, how, especially with the prophecy—
Her hands darted to the arrow, and viciously she ripped it out of his shoulder. Eomer howled in pain, and he tried to roll it off, and get away from her.
She slapped her hand over his mouth, even though he continued to moan at the throbbing pain.
"Look at me," she whispered harshly at him. Eomer's eyes watered, but he opened them anyway. Those eyes . . . once so beautiful, but now devoid of any humanity. "You will answer my questions."
Immediately, he shook his head, though he didn't know why. She couldn't honestly expect him to betray his world. But Selanae's eyes narrowed, and she brought the arrow close to his face, his blood and bits of flesh still on it.
"I can put this back," she said, again grinning. Eomer's stomach twisted again, and he closed his eyes to stop from showing any more weakness.
He felt her fingers on him, and his eyes shot open. Selanae clawed at his armor with her dangerous hands. His body stiffened as she grasped at the armor's clasps, and undid them. With the quickest of movements, she yanked on the armor and pushed on his body so he was left with no protection but his tunic and regular clothing.
Her mouth turned up in another grin. Again, her eyes moved over his body, helpless as he lay with his hands tied before him, and in nothing more than clothes suitable for a late meal.
She tossed his armor towards the hideous teeth and mouth thing, not even glancing at it as she did. Eomer wondered who was in charge. She never acknowledged the thing, but yet he ordered her to interrogate . . .
He'd forgotten about that, albeit momentarily. Selanae, however, did not.
"What is your name?" she asked.
Eomer blinked. Does she not remember? If not, how? What sort of darkness did Sauron work on her?
She kicked him in the side for his hesitation. The metal on her boots added weight to her force, and Eomer hissed at the pain.
"Answer me!" she demanded. She moved towards him again, her foot ready to slam into his body.
"Do you not know?" Eomer asked weakly. He looked up at her, hopeful yet he didn't know why. Maybe, if she didn't know, it was better—less painful. It'd mean she couldn't help herself from Sauron's power.
She knelt by his side, reaching out a metal studded hand to his face. She caressed it, though it did not comfort him.
"I know who you are, Eomer," she said, that gleam of death back in her eyes. "But I want to hear it from you." With that, she punched him in the face. His head knocked against the ground, and he immediately felt his blood run from his cheek. He was stunned.
Selanae
Why?
She dug her hand against the wound in his shoulder, making him scream through clenched teeth.
"Tell me," she hissed at him.
"Eomer," he spat out, almost as desperate as he was disgusted. The pressure against his shoulder did not cease. "Son of Eomund, nephew of Theoden, and heir to the throne of Rohan."
He expected some relief from his torment, but found Selanae denied him that. In fact, the pressure in his wound increased. Eomer gritted his teeth together.
"And?" she prompted. The lightness of her tone didn't escape Eomer's notice. How it hurt!
"Please," he said before he could stop himself. "What more?"
"Theoden?" she asked. The room began to spin, and Eomer shut his eyes.
"Theoden has fallen," he managed to say. He panted between words and the pain. "I am the new King of Rohan."
Suddenly the pressure ceased, though his shoulder still throbbed. Eomer's chest rose and fell quickly. He kept his eyes shut. Selanae moved from his side, and he could hear her circling him again as he lay on the cold floor.
"Why are you here?" she asked. Her voice contained no remorse, no emotion, not even anger. She simply moved to the next question.
Eomer swallowed.
"To save you," he said. Laughter filled the room, but it was anything but happy to him.
"Save me?" she repeated. He heard an echo of laughter from the thing with the large teeth and mouth. "You, Eomer King, cannot even save yourself from capture and certain torment." She knelt by him again, her eyes mirthful as they studied him. "But I'm glad you came. You've given me something to do."
It dawned on him that she hadn't threatened him with death. Part of him wished she had.
Suddenly she grabbed his bound wrists and stood. She twisted her body, much like he'd seen her do in fighting. But this was not graceful or in defense of any good. Her movements were harsh and straight-forward. She slid him across the floor, quickly making him collide with a pillar. It caught him in the side, and Eomer coughed as his stomach threatened to revolt yet again.
"Where are the rest of your men?" she asked. Her tone was still indifferent, almost bored. A chill went through Eomer.
I cannot betray them, he thought. With that, he clamped his mouth shut, and watched her. Selanae's eyes flickered to him. He flinched.
"Where, Eomer King?" she repeated, her eyes flashing with sudden rage. She took a step towards him. Eomer swallowed.
"I will not betray my country," he said. It came out slightly wavering, but he tried his best to steel his features. She took another step to him. "Betrayal doesn't come as easily for me as it does you."
Bold words, he knew, but it made her step falter. But she smiled and strode purposefully to his side. He followed every movement, and as she drew closer, his body became more and more tense.
"You think your words can hurt me, Eomer?" she asked. "You know nothing, son of Eomund. You don't know who I am, nor what I am capable of." She knelt by his side, leaning over him so her face was near his. "You don't know that we know the heir of Isildur and his men come this way."
Eomer could hardly breathe evenly. Her whispers tickled him, and made him shiver at the same time.
"Your stubbornness will only give you pain," she said. "How far away are they?"
Eomer pulled his head away from hers, refusing to look at her or feel her so close to him. His heart ached with every poisonous word she spoke.
"You are wasting your time," he said quietly. He glanced back at her as she started to grin.
"I was hoping you'd say that," she said, standing. "I have all the time in the world, Eomer. And torturing you is not a waste to me."
Eomer shut his eyes as she kicked him in the side, the first of many blows.
A/n: I'll update quickly, before you all start throwing stuff at me. ;o) But please review!