You Are Mine, Forever Mine

Summary: (Somewhat AU) She was the appetency he could never release himself from and yet, he didn't want to escape the ardent, fierce hold his yearnings had on him. For in the end, she would be his. All his. (Oneshot, slight songfic; one-sided EowynxGrima)

Text:

"Speech"

Thoughts

Lyrics

Music/Songs:

"Over" by Evans Blue

Disclaimer: You saw the pairing, didn't you? I think that answers the question.

He could watch her for hours, lose himself in her celestial, pale mystique, imbuing his mind with her tantalizing, mystical splendor only he can detect. Every time she entered a room he was occupying in, his caliginous eyes would instinctively sweep predatorily towards her, his subtle, hungry gaze soaking up the mere aura she unknowingly emitted. Grima, then, would acknowledge her presence, trying to cajole her to him, to evoke a stirring of affection for him inside of her.

Alas, the outcomes were all the same, no matter how many diverse approaches he performed to beckon her to his side. Eowyn, the Shield Maiden of Rohan would simply send him a menacing glare and exit the room in succinct grace, ire rolling off her in waves. He would either frown at his failure or faintly smirk at her fiery resolve. After all, her fire was one of the traits he initially became infatuated with.

You better crawl on your knees

The next time you say that you love me

His heart vehemently aches with desperate longing, his passion for Eowyn never curbing. He could practically taste her lips, envisioning himself planting animalistic kisses upon her fair skin, profusely relishing her tormented cries as he slaked his ravenous appetite as he ravishes her. She was the appetency he could never release himself from and yet, he didn't want to escape the ardent, fierce hold his yearnings had on him. He was perfectly satisfied with his libidinous notions pertaining to Eowyn.

For in the end, she would be his. All his.

Fall on your knees, because this time I won't be so kind

Can't you see that this is life and life is killing me

"Leave me alone, snake!" she demanded, her eyes blazing with much indignation and contempt. He inwardly chuckled at her brazen action, enjoying how her fury transpired as a raging, torrent crescendo.

"Oh, but you are alone," he replied complacently, smirking at her distress, her grief, her fear. He bred off her loneliness and incessant sorrow, explicating the weakness within in hopes of eventually coercive her down to the ground, kneeling before him in a gesture of complete submission.

Is it yours? Is it mine?

Our sky fell down tonight

To wash away our pain

Every platitude, every scathing retort she delivered to him with her vicious, viper of a tongue, words dripping with venom and deep hatred just stimulated him to ponder further about her. He vowed that once he had her, she would pay for all the brusque, icy statements directed at him, evidently signaling how much she loathed him with every fiber of her being. He would punish her for all the resentments she harbored for him and all the times she spurned his attempts to sway her towards his path, to his strenuous love for her. Once he dealt with her properly, she could commence being his and only his.

Grima licked his lips in forethought, savoring the pure delicacy of his ingenious plan. Yes, he would dominate her very person, possessing her mind, heart, body, and soul. She will succumb to his darkness…and be engulfed in its arcane embrace forevermore.

I'll be looking forward to when that day arrives.

"Uncle," Eowyn whispered deploringly, her azure eyes glistening with unshed tears. Naturally, King Théoden did not answer. He only stares listlessly at her with the face of the fleeting shadow of the glorious, peerless warrior he once was. "Uncle, can you hear me?" King Théoden still did not stir from his nefarious stupor. Mournfully observing her deprived, senescent uncle Eowyn withdrew herself from his weary, lackluster gaze and departed the throne room, feeling more hopeless than ever.

She leaned back against the granite wall of her palace, the misery within her escalating. She was so alone, so hapless, so vulnerable. Will I become weak next? Will I be overpowered by those who plague my king, my country, and my people? Eowyn conceives that the boundaries of her security were rapidly crumbling down, dissolving into dust. Soon, she will have no one, no one to watch her back while she watches theirs.

An abrupt, glacial gale blew into the castle, ferociously yet graciously encircling the Shield Maiden like she was long-lost friend. Wrapping her arms around herself to trap the evanescing warmth, Eowyn wished that the northern wind would disperse. She is cold enough as it is on interior, she truly didn't need to be physically colder as well.

Tell me, over and over and over and over and over and over again

It never was the time for us, it never was the time to let me in

"It seems to be a bit chilly today."

A spark of choler igniting within her soul, Eowyn whirls around, fists clenched, and faces the familiar intruder.

"Wormtongue." she acknowledged coolly, her lack of warmth presently forgotten. The said advisor cocked his head, a hint of smirk dancing on his lips.

"Yes, my Lady?"

She glowered at him, vexed by his precipitate appearance. "What do you want?" she demanded rather harshly, having no desire to play niceties with this odious man.

You better see how evil you can be

When you see my evil smile

It's the one that you'll remember when I am not so kind

The corners of his mouth quirked upwards, entailing into a crooked, collaborating smile. "I was just concern with your well-being, Lady Eowyn." He glanced over at the open windows, noting that a storm was lurking in the horizon. Grima then steadied his scrutiny back onto the woman he clandestinely covets for. "The winds here can be quite frigid. I would hate it if you caught a cold…or worse."

Finished with his explanation, he then bored his abysmal, inky orbs straight into her artic, sapphire ones, reveling the beauteous, ephemeral sight standing fractiously in front of him. Taking a light, soundless step forward, he boldly confronts her, assaying to make her realize that she belonged to him. In response, Eowyn retreated, but not in a skittish or tentative sort of fashion. No, she retreated like the true warrior she was trained to be, serenely and stoically awaiting his next move.

"Don't tell me that you are afraid me," he taunted, curious if she would react to his statement or not. Eowyn pinned him down with her fulminating glower, acrimony etched artistically on her comely, striking features.

"Why should I be affrighted by a worm like you?" she hissed caustically. Prior he could utter a witty or deadly remark to that inquiry, she swiftly left the foyer, rendering him alone once more.

Yet, as she strode away, she could still feel his penetrating, inscrutable eyes scrutinizing her each and every move…always watching her.

Just like he had in the beginning of all this chaos.

Can't you see that this is death, and death is saving me?

Once more, she stung his heart with her words but he didn't mind. She would regret them later on, when he obtains more power and tenure from Rohan. He'll make her eat her words and then bask her glorious defeat when he has her trapped in his entreating enfoldment.

"Soon, princess, very soon, you shall be mine."

And nothing, not even your foolish brother, can change that.

There she was again, solitary in the sober vicinity, amid the lush foliage. His intuition persistently provokes him to go her, his yearning urging his body forward. Perhaps this time he could coax her and gain her affections….

As he approaches her, he realized she too rapt in her thoughts to hear his footsteps. Smirking slightly at his good fortune, Grima decided to use this as his advantage. With eerie speed, he closes in on her till he is only an inch away from her. From the proximity he can finally smell her delectable scent he always vied to whiff. Deeply inhaling her fragrance, he could nearly taste her redolent, memorizing aroma, the incense of the pines, rainwater, and meadow grass teasing and tickling his senses. His blood boiled hot with fervency and his mind screamed at him to claim her now, before all is lost but Grima knew better than that. It was too early, she still has much to learn.

I wonder if she is able to handle these upcoming "lessons"….

I say burn all your bridges

While you still have control of the flame

I know it's hard but you…

Tell me, over and over and over and over and over and over again

It never was the time for us, it never was the time to let me in

Silently, he reached out and gingerly grazed his fingers against her smooth, creamy neck. As if his icy touch had awoken her, Eowyn immediately snapped out her reverie. She spun on her heels to confront him, the same rage shrouding her.

"Wormtongue!" she exclaimed hotly, "What do you think you're doing?!"

Take her now. She's yours, all yours, his brain whispered tenaciously to him, She was promised to you. You can have her. You deserve her.

He titled his head slightly downward, leveling his onyx orbs to her ice-blue pupils. A curtain of unkempt black tresses fell over him and shadowing his alabaster visage, offering him a foreboding, licentious mien.

"What do you think, Lady Eowyn?" he replied, lips curling into a sneer, "I'm just reaping the benefits of what is rightfully mine."

Show me, over and over and over and over and over and over again

It never was the time for us, it never was the time to let me in

Hardened to the point

So hard and to the point

Her magnificent blue eyes flickered with immense furor. "I will never be yours!" Eowyn spat acidly, displaying blatant signs that she was about to attempt an escape from him. He narrowed his sable, satanical pupils at her, privately forbidding to himself he'll never permit her committing such an act. Today was the day he would conquer her spirit, bend her to his will, and have her in his arms, refusing to ever let her go.

Taking decisive action, he quickly grabs her before she can run off, one hand clasped at the crook of her arm while the other was wrapped possessively around her waist. Like he anticipated, she battled valiantly against him, her restraint strenuous and constant as his own.

Tell me, over and over and over and over and over and over again

(You're hardened to the point)

It never was the time for us, it never was the time to let me in

"Fight all you want, my Lady," he hissed into her ear, "but your actions will be futile. I will leave my mark on you…and you shall bear it as my love."

Eowyn opened her mouth to furiously comment his remark but he didn't give her enough time verbally wreak her revenge. Seizing the chance, Grima coercively pressed his mouth against her lips, bruising them in process yet he could care less. Right now he was too busy absorbing the sweet, delicious nectar from her coral-pink lips, reveling how delectable and rapturous his love could taste like. Carnally, he used force to pry her mouth open and gained entrance, his tongue already getting to work. It tried entwining itself around Eowyn's tongue, wooing it to his cause. More convulsive struggles came on Eowyn's part however Grima Wormtongue comprehended that she would be under his control sooner or later.

His victory wouldn't be long now.

He deepened the kiss, assaying to imbibe her very soul with his dark, malignant vigor. He will compel her to assert that she belonged to him, that she now was his lover. He craved for her to accept the love he arduously harbored for her and return the favor, not spurn his feelings with spite like she usually had.

Adore me, kiss me, love me, and be forever mine. That's all I want from you, Lady Eowyn.

Unable to resist Eowyn's violent assaults on his person, he broke the kiss. Her favor lingering on his lips, Grima promptly licked his lips, slowly savoring her paradisiacal flavor he just had a sip of.

Now he thirsts for more.

Show me, over and over and over and over and over and over again

(You're hard and to the point)

It never was the time for us, it never was the time to let me in

Eyeing her with ascending prurience, Grima pulled her close to him, ignoring the hard-aimed, swift kicks she inflicted on his shins. Wincing but suppressing the pain, Grima tenderly grazed his starving lips against her fair cheek, analyzing her kiss-swollen mouth like it was a scrumptious morsel he was scheming to devour whole.

"Remember this," he whispered darkly, mockery laced within his words, "Treasure this. For when the time comes for me to claim you…be prepared."

He wasn't expecting her to react so abruptly, he wholly believed he had ensnared her mind via his insidious elocution. However, she managed to recover from her shock and regains her primitive ire, elbowing him squarely in the ribs. Eowyn then vindictively dealt mean uppercut to his chin, causing Grima to stumble backwards, agony wracking his jaw and torso. Erstwhile she was fleeing and in an augment distance when his detriment was finally alleviated.

Unable to pursue her, Grima simply watches her race away from him. Yet, instead of rage and indignation cloaking her personae, another emotion was taking root in her. The sprinting figure of Eowyn halts her pace and glances behind her, noticing that Grima is still standing erect on the mound. Although the distance between them was fairly great, the advisor could espy the utter contempt flaring incalculably in her cerulean pupils. It was at that moment he perceived the new, raw impression she experienced right after their little encounter.

It was fear.

Simpering triumphantly at this ascertainment, Grima continued to survey the sprinting Eowyn until she vanished from his view, landmarks obstructing his peripheral vision. However, it didn't matter, he has done the deed. He has planted the seeds of fear and dubiety within her core and gradually, they will overcome her and Lady Eowyn will have no choice but to come running to him when all is lost.

Licking his lips one last time to find any tangible remnants of Eowyn's enticing nectar, Grima headed back inside the palace to pour some more poisonous, silky words into his liege's ears. Till then, he would just bide his time and patiently wait for his lady to come flocking to his side.

I'll be waiting for you, Eowyn. For you bear my mark and as I clearly stated, you are mine, forever mine.

"…And you always will be."

Tell me, over and over and over and over and over and over again

It never was the time for us, it never was the time to let me in

Heh, this is my shortest piece of work I've ever have written. How strange.

Well, after reading a myriad of LotR stories, this unexpectedly popped into my head and I had to record it all down. I must thank ElevenPirate41's And He Will Smile for inspiring me and provoking my creative juices to flow. While aiming for this to be somewhat dark and have Grima in all his noxious glory, I wanted to insert some lyrics in this. Evans Blue is transforming to be a favorite of mine and I profusely love their song "Over" so much and it fitted efficiently with the concept so…there you go.

Eccentric pairing, I know, but I hope you all enjoyed it. I have no clue why this coupling captivates me so, perhaps it's the oddity of it. I have an appetite for exotic, unique pairing and such. Bah, that is enough of my blathering; review, critic, ect, etc, but flames will be utilized as fires for the Orc army that will be attending a banquet of mine. We're having a bonfire so if you want, you all can join in on the fun. And yes, the Orcs will be doing karaoke.

Adieu everyone!

---SpeedDemon315