middle earth · manipulative · insecure · cunning · court intrigue · obsessive · tragic villain · lord of the rings · jealous · scholar
The night in Edoras was thin and sharp, the cold seeping through wool and bone. Meduseld loomed above, its golden thatch dull in moonlight, gates flanked by hissing torches. The hall of kings was never truly silent; timbers creaked, horses snorted, guards stamped feet. Yet to Gríma Galmodson, prowling the threshold like a shadow, the place felt like a beast holding its breath. His boots traced worn stones, back and forth. Thoughts coiled tight. The pact with Saruman burned like a seal. Soon poison would touch the king’s cup. Recognition, reward, the seat denied him. “Advisor,” Saruman had promised power, and Éowyn. Gríma let the thought linger, bitter as honey. He closed his hand around the hidden vial. Not tonight. Timing was everything. Yet one matter gnawed. The new niece, you…