Disclaimer: Unfortunately I do not own the LotR characters, they all belong to the wonderful imagination of JRR Tolkien and maybe in some ways to New Line Cinema…. I don't own Grima!!! *sob*
Although I'm one of those fans who read the books at least once a year, please do not expect a totally complete and perfect according to the facts story. All mistakes are blamed on me and please leave them in your reviews so that I can correct them :)
Last note: Why Grima Wormtongue you might ask. Well I shall try to explain although I don't expect you to understand me… Since the first time I've read LotR I'm fascinated by this character although he doesn't really has a huge part in the story (It might helps that I've got a HUGE weak-spot for complex, evil, freaky characters in books…). When I discovered that he also was played in the movie by one of my favourite actors, Brad Dourif, I was the luckiest girl on earth :). And I think he's SO CUTE in the movie… but that's just me and my weird obsession (I'm not called Lunatic for nothing… lol)/i
A skinny boy with raven black hair, ice-blue eyes and a pale skin. That was the reflection that showed in the shield that was hanging on the wall, used as a mirror. The boy only stared at his reflection and didn't spoke a word. It hangs in a little room with a small bed, a closet, a desk, one chair and a huge bookcase. Suddenly the boy reached out and with a slam hit the shield of the wall. The boy only stared and then turned and sat down in the only chair of the room. A single tear dripped from his eyes. Abrupt he stands up again grasps the shield from the floor and hangs in back on the wall.
"Why me?", the boy whispers softly.
After a last glance in his mirror the boy walked towards his desk and sat down behind it. He grasped a feather and some parchment and starts to write. With a proud and graceful handwriting he wrote down his name: Grima son of Galmod. He loved to write, he really did. Words where his way to escape the real, for him so bitter, world. To be able to escape in different worlds was a thing that Grima loved above all the things. Words where his key, his protection and also his biggest defence, because he knew one thing for sure; he was the smartest person at the court of King Theoden. Because besides his love of words there was another thing that Grima loved, and that probably saved his live too; he loved to read and learn. That is also why his room had the biggest bookcase of Edoras, probably even of whole Rohan. And he had read every single book from it. And he remembered everything of it; another remarkable thing. Grima continued to write. Just words with no meaning behind it, no story. Another tear dropped from his eyes and a little bit angry he wept it away.
"Weakling," he muttered, "not worth to live…"
A soft knock on the door and a servant entered the room.
"Dinner is served in the Golden Hall."
"Great," Grima muttered and left his room, his place for hiding.
When he entered the Golden Hall there weren't many seats left. As usual he was called last and he only saw a seat left between the young family of the King. Grima sighed, not really the company he was waiting for. He sat down and stared at his plaid just wishing that dinner were over soon. Around him he heard happy laughter and talking and he heard the young guys around him talking about the fights they had and how their day was today. He knew how their day was.
Everybody in Edoras was normal, except of him. It was shown on many ways. First appearance. Grima was pale, skinny with ice-blue eyes and black hair. The others where big, strong, beautiful people with long golden hair and a bronze skin, all very happy and brave, with a love for sword fighting and horses. Grima loved to escape in his books and in his knowledge and horses where not really his thing. Under-statement of the year. He hated the noble appearances of the horses and they where too big in his taste. He was weak, he was a real coward and he knew it. His father, Galmod, the proud Galmod, had told him many times and not always in a friendly way. Grima sighed bitterly at the memory of his father. Without his father, his mother would… Grima tried to ignore the memory of his mother who was trying to fill his mind. Desperately he started to think about the last story he had read. The story about the Elf Lord Gawain, a human-lord had challenged Gawain. He had accepted the challenge and had struck the head of his challenger of in one blow. The human-lord had picked up his head and had challenged Gawain for another fight, one year later in his castle. A year later the two meet and they promise each other to exchange whatever they obtain by hunting or otherwise. The Lady of the Human-Lord temps Gawain and gives him some kisses and a green girdle… deep lost in his thoughts Grima doesn't notice what's going on around him. Suddenly he hears one single word. Maybe the word that he hates more, even more then he hates himself.
Grima looks up and looks in the young brown eyes of Eothaín, best friend of Eomer, who is cousin of the King. Eothaín looks with a little smile at Grima.
"Wormtongue! Where you plotting a new downfall? Thinking of a new way to destroy a family? Too bad that you can't destroy your own family again, nobody is hurt when you do that!"
Grima feels anger growing in his heart, but he knows he can do nothing. He can imagine a lot of awful things he wants to do to Eothaín, he can write them down and dream that they actually happen. But he knows that it is fake. He knows that he is weak Grima, Grima the coward… Grima the Wormtongue. Against Eothaín he can do nothing. Perfect Eothaín with his blond hair, who had fought an orc on his own and won, strong and loyal Eothaín.
"How does it feel to destroy your mother, Wormtongue?" this time Eothaín whispers so that only Grima can hear him.
With a jerk Grima stands up. Other people look amazed at his sudden movement, but then continue their eating. He almost runs towards his own room, trying hard not to cry. He closes the doors behind him, grasps his book about Gawain and tries to escape from his own cruel world into the one of his imagination.
You have got NO idea how hard it was for me to write this. I LOVE everything Tolkien and the reason that I've never wrote a fanfic about it is because I just KNOW that it would loose it's magic. But I've tried. This short thingie has taken me more then a week (without writers-block) and I'm still not satisfied. But I guess I will never be…
Please review! You will have my eternal gratitude :)
Last thing, the Story 'Sir Gawain and the Green Knight' really exists. Written in 1390 and I just changed it a lil bit… (YAY for English literature lessons)