There's a certain kind of pain that can numb you;
There's a type of freedom that can tie you down;
Sometimes the unexplained can define you;
Sometimes silence is the only sound…
She saw him as a puzzle, as confusion, as a strangely complex creature in a world where complexity was not welcome. The Rohirrim were simple, straightforward people; things were the way they were and it was better they were left that way.
Such was the reason they feared him, she knew, and such was the reason he frightened and fascinated her at the same time. He was such a strange mix of shadow and light; of things beautiful and of things ugly and destroyed; of things lost and things newly discovered.
He was dark, darker than the Rohirrim, but he was intelligent, brilliant in his own way - an educated man in a world where education was rare and valuable. He survived in shadow but seemed to crave the light. He hid in the darkness of the corridors of Meduseld, but always, always seemed drawn to the candles - as a moth will be drawn to a fire.
His handwriting, his words, stunned Éowyn with their passion and glory. The way that he could weave them together to create something extraordinary was beyond the means of ordinary men, and the gift terrified and attracted her all at once. When he would speak to her, she felt as if she might swoon, but held back from such weaknesses. After all, he was Wormtongue, and he was, physically as well as spiritually, ugly and twisted and beyond repair. The Rohirrim had broken his soul and his dreams. He was the ultimate example of genius gone to waste in a place where no one understood.
It seemed, to her, as though he had lost everything in his life; had left behind all human emotions but for the most intense, love and hate. He had lost morality and decency, had lost hope and joy. All that was left was bitterness and rage, and a painful, aching longing for that which he had long ago left behind.
Yet, in him, she discovered things about herself - her own glory and strength, her beauty, her ability to be free. With him, she felt as though she found herself released, as though he knew her intimately and would let her be as she was.
She loved that feeling. But she would never admit it.
