𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐬 ➵︎ [ 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘧 ]

23| anchor

Sorry for the wait, school got busy and my mind got blank. but anyways, this chapter is dedicated to... SassyBatz! Thanks so much for reading and enjoying!

────── ༻♛༺ ──────

I could not help but smile.

Théoden examined his sword, the magnificent blade glinting in the sunlight that now streamed freely from the windows. The blood of kings ran through his veins, alighting a fire within his eyes, a strength that had not been seen since Saruman's dominion over this land began.

I felt a rush of hope, and Éowyn turned back and smiled gratefully at us, her tears of joy like jewels, brightening her crystal blue orbs.

The king's attention shifted. I followed his gaze, tracing it to the cowering figure on the floor beneath Gimli's foot. Théoden's expression contorted with anger.

Crossing the hall with a few strides, he advanced towards the wretched being. Gimli got off Grima, making way for the wrath of the king, which I doubt even I could have stopped.

"You...you...traitor," he hissed through clenched teeth, raw fury burning in his words.

Grima scrambled back, pleas of mercies and lies falling from his tongue, but the king was livid.

As he should be. I did not feel pity, nor did I feel the need to stop what was happening. Perhaps it was my past experiences that had solidified my lack of compassion for this man. Even Legolas seemed to turn away slightly.

"You sorry excuse for a man," Théoden seethed, taking a fistful of Grima's tunic, "I should have had you banished, had you thrown out of the kingdom-"

"My liege-"

The king's fist slammed into the snivelling creature's nose, and from where I was standing, I could hear the crack of the bone. I grimaced at the sound.

"No." Théoden's voice fell to a harsh whisper as he spat the words. "I should have killed you. But I won't taint these halls with your blood."

His hands were trembling, overcome with fury as he dragged Grima out of the hall. We followed not far behind

Théoden threw Grima down the stone staircase, and I watched as the pale and slimy man tumbled down the stairs, each thump of the body against stone causing me to wince.

Grima finally came to stop at the foot of the stairs. He pleadingly looked up at the king, crimson-red blood streaming from his nose, a sharp contrast to his pallid skin.

"I've only ever served you my lord." Grima begged pathetically.

"Your leechcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!" The King descended the stairs, advancing towards Grima's cowering form, towering over him with terrifying rage.

"Send me not from your side!" Grima pitifully beseeched.

I glanced up to notice a crowd of onlookers forming at the commotion.

In one swift motion, Théoden raised his sword, and Grima shrank away with a cry. From beside me, Aragorn rushed forwards, catching the king's sword before he could bring it down.

"No my lord! No my lord. Let him go! Enough blood has been spilt on his account."

I raised my eyebrow slightly at my brother's act of compassion. I didn't necessarily want to watch Grima's murder (not that I hadn't seen an execution before), but I would not go as far as to let him go.