A cloaked figure slunk up the moonlit streets of Edoras. Finding a way into the city without notice had been difficult but, as her mother had always told her, not impossible. That barrel had been heavy and it was not easy to dump the fish out where they would not be soon discovered. Not to mention the smell she had to wash off her skin. She had the foresight to take off her clothes and hide them elsewhere in the wagon. If she was caught, her nakedness would be the least of her troubles. If she was not caught, the fishy smell would be impossible to remove without completely washing her clothes. A luxury she could not afford at the moment. But, that smelly barrel allowed her to get passed the gates undetected

Her heart pounded and she shivered even under the heavy cloak. It was not the chill wind alone that made her do so either. Why, again, was she doing this? She asked herself as she hid from a soldier on patrol. Because, even she did not wish her family’s name be shamed. This was probably her first and last chance to show any kind of worth to her family. Helga was far too beautiful a prize to be squandered in this manner so; she was not let to go. Eolan would one day inherit therefore; he could not be let to go. It was up to Eadra, plain, contrary little Eadra to save her family’s name. A mind without a pretty face to make up for it was not of much value for a young girl of Rohan.

She stopped and stared in reverence. Meduseld, the Golden Hall, what a sight it was. Eadra’s sharp eyes did not fail to notice the soldiers standing guard. How to get by them? She scoffed, surely if she walked right past and flung open the front doors they would never notice mousy little Eadra. Helga took great pains to make mention of her younger sister’s lack of beauty. Even though the insidious creature had an intellect equal to that of a plank of old wood, her heavenly features would win her a powerful and rich husband. She held her coal gray cloak around her to help shield her presence from the eyes of the night guards. Helga never even bothered to learn how to read, even though they, unlike most Rohirrim, had the opportunity.

Eadra held herself flat against the wall and quietly lifted the latch on a side door to the hall. How on earth was she to know the right room? It was a problem with her father’s little plan she had been worried about since he sent her away. She knew in her heart that they hoped never to see her again, no matter what the outcome of this evening’s events. If she failed, one less mouth to worry about, one less frame to dress. If she succeeded… Eadra let out a long nervous breath. She herself almost hoped for rejection. Why had her father taken that Wormtongue’s money? Why, oh why, had he let Helga and his new wife squander the borrowed gold? Even if they sold every horse, every animal they owned they would not have enough to pay back the sum of the loan, let alone the interest.

Grima turned a corner on the way to his chambers and stopped suddenly, taking refuge in the shadows, upon seeing a figure. The small cloaked figure snuck down the corridor. He followed quiet as a shadow, watching. A sun bronzed hand came from inside the cloak and quietly opened a door. A woman? How had she gotten past the guards? She closed it again and moved on, to the next.

Eadra heard the guard only an instant before he came around the corner. She hid in the shadow of a pillar and grimaced as she realized she hadn’t re latched the last door she checked. With a squeak the door swung open as the guard passed. He stopped, closed the door and looked around suspiciously. Grima’s curiosity had gotten the better of him by now and he stepped out of the shadows and addressed the Guard. “What is the trouble?” Eadra clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from gasping. There he was, her stomach churned at the sight of him. She half considered making a run for it right then and there. She was resourceful, she could learn to scratch a living from the rocks. She swallowed down what was left of her pride and braced herself. ‘I will not give them more cause to despise me than they already do. I will prove to them the resolve of Eadra and do this thing.’

The guard jumped, “Forgive me I did not see you Lord Grima.”

He shook his head impatiently, “What good is it to have soldiers guarding us if they can not even see the rightful denizens until they are almost upon them?”

His voice was, as always full of venom, but the guard replied. “I was seeing to this door my Lord. It was not open when last I came by. I thought…”

Grima scoffed lightly and gave the soldier a condescending smile. “You thought? What a novel occurrence. These latches are old and worn with time. Do not become skittish as a yearling colt at an open door.” He continued along the way to his chamber. “Forbid anything actually serious should happen, it would cause your heart to stop.”

The soldier sighed deeply and pulled the door closed, a little too hard in his anger. “Cursed Wormtongue.” And continued on his round. Eadra was surprised at the bite the stooped little man’s words held. She continued a fair pace behind him keeping to the shadows not realizing he knew perfectly well she was hid there. He entered his chamber and closed the door soundly behind him. Then he hid himself in the deep shadow beside the fireplace and waited dagger held tightly in his hand.

He calmed his breath as he waited in the darkness. It occurred to him she could be dangerous, perhaps he should have let the soldier come upon her. No, she perhaps, was good at hiding in the shadows but, it was obvious to his eyes she was not well practiced. Grima reset his grip on the dagger as the door quietly opened.

Eadra had taken off her cloak and taken one last, deep, calming breath before pushing the heavy wooden door open. She slunk in and quickly closed the door behind her. Blinking, her eyes slowly adjusted to the blackness, only grayed in spots where the stars shown through the window. The young girl had expected to catch her quarry preparing for sleep.

From his vantage point in the deep blackness beside the fireplace Grima looked at the small girl with growing curiosity. She was familiar, not in her face, which he could not clearly see but, her stance and demeanor. He puzzled a moment while the girl looked around indecisively. Suddenly she whispered into the darkness, “I, um, is anyone there?” She stepped forward and stumbled, the corner of her skirt was caught in the closed door. She gave a quiet grunt as she pulled it loose rather than reopen the door. Eadra knew if she did she would run and never look back.

An evil little smile formed on Grima’s face. He snuck silently around the edge of the room as the girl stepped forward. Once he was behind the nervous creature he leapt forward, one hand over her mouth the other touching the point of his dagger to the exposed skin of her throat. A startled gasp came from the girl and she grabbed onto his hand and wrist that covered her mouth. “Shh, shh…” He hissed into her ear, expecting her to struggle but she did not. “If anything louder than a whisper escapes your lips, girl, I will slit your throat. He moved his hand from off her mouth and gripped the upper portion of her arm. “Tell me, who are you?”

He kept his face near her ear; he could smell the fear coming off her. “My name is Eadra daughter of Dreothan. ” She was about to continue but she felt the dagger’s point bite her skin.

“Dreothan?” Now he remembered, Eadra the plain second child of that careless oaf Dreothan. He had seen her upon his visit to her father’s hall. She had kept to herself, reading and listening as he recalled. While that fat father of hers forced his pretty Helga to wait upon Grima. A smile played upon his thin lips at the memory; he had enjoyed tormenting the vacuous creature. “So this is how he plans to repay his debts to me?” He felt the girl shudder but she spoke no words. “Use the pretty one to get the money from me then; try to pay me off with the ugly one?”

He felt her stiffen under his grip, “Beauty fades quickly, strength of body and spirit are lasting.” Her words were spoken through her teeth. He’d found her sore spot rather quickly.

He laughed bitterly into her ear, “They don’t expect a plain little thing like you to ever marry so, if I accepted they’d be better off in the end.” He felt her slouch, “Perhaps I should use you, and still collect on your father’s debt?”

Eadra grabbed his hand that held the dagger and tried to plunge in into her flesh. He pulled the blade from her swiftly and pushed her to the ground. The moonlight passing through the window reflected in her eyes as she looked up at him angrily. “I would rather die than have to go back, ruined and failed.” There was a proud determination in the skinny little girl as she pushed herself up from the floor. It reminded him, almost, of someone else.

He considered her, his head cocked to one side in thought, the dagger still held in his hand. “Then you shall not return.” He spoke quietly, almost before he came to his decision. Now he smiled. It was a cruel sight in the pale starlight. Like a look that comes upon a destructive child just before he pulls the wings from a moth. “Well, girl, don’t just stand there. Help me into my night clothes.”