"My lady............" A voice came, turning her blood cold. The sound making her sick to her stomach. There was only one creature in the whole of Rohan that made her entire body react so viscerally. Only one vile, detestable, insect that could make her skin crawl in such a fashion, and that was Grima. The pale, lank, greasy haired abomination that dared to call himself her father's chief counsellor. The daughter of Théoden well aware that the only thing that he was trying to counsel, was his way onto her father's throne. And given how her father had changed; given that her beloved brother, Théodred, had succumbed to the wounds that he had received during his battle with the orcs, and that Éomer and all those that were still loyal to the king and Rohan, were now viewed as little more than traitors, surly it would only be a matter of time before the odious Wormtongue got what he wanted. Before he had dripped enough honeyed venom into her father's ear and had him declare that the counsellor would be the next king. Yet she had to hope that her father would see sense; that he would proclaim her to be the rightful heir, as he should, so that she could rid the kingdom, once and for all, of the contemptable wretch. But to have her father see sense, would mean that she would have to have an audience with him, first. And that was the problem, Wormtongue having persuaded her father that it was best not to see her. Yet she still hoped.
Edoras had been so different before Wormtongue had somehow wheedled his way in and claimed his spot at her father's side. The people had been happy under Théoden's rule; life had been good. Yet now, there was no laughter, no song. Not even the children played in the streets. The kingdom of the horsemen, now dark and sad. It breaking the princess' heart, every time that she would venture out.
"Yes, Grima............" (Y/n) replied, quickly shrugging off the hand that he had placed on her shoulder, before she got to her feet. The princess glad that the black veil that she wore as part of her mourning dress for her brother, concealed, if only a little, the look of utter contempt that was on her face, as she glared at the horrific creature in front of her.
"Your father wishes to see you..........." Wormtongue continued, as he flashed her his browning teeth. (Y/n) feeling a glimmer of joy at the words. Hope that her father was finally breaking free of whatever spell he seemed to be under. That he would finally listen to those that loved him; that wanted nothing but the best for him. The princess quickly pushing passed Wormtongue, making her way through the corridors, until she stood before the doors of the throne room.
"My princess............." Háma said sadly, as he looked to her. (Y/n) discreetly taking the hand of the captain of her father's guard, as he she looked between him and the doors.
"Wormtongue says he wants to see me..........." (Y/n) explained. The man that she had known her whole life, squeezing her hand slightly, before letting it go and nodding, then reaching out to open the door. The princess running towards her father; making her way up the few steps, until she was sat at his feet. (Y/n) taking her kings hand and kissing it.
She couldn't help but cry. She had always classed herself as strong, and despite what her brother, what her cousin Éomer, might have thought about a woman's role, her father had always been more than happy for her to learn how to use a sword; and thanks to the king and Háma, she had proved that she was a natural with a blade. But at this moment, she was the furthest thing from the warrior that she had always wanted to be. At this moment, she felt so small, so scared. This was not her father; this was a creature that had come from the grave. The last time that she had been allowed to lay eyes on him, he had been himself. He had still been a regal figure, strong and commanding; his beard neatly trimmed, and his honey-coloured hair, hanging to his shoulders. But this, this was a man that looked double her father's true age. His hair, his beard were unkempt, straggly, and now white as snow. His skin, as if he had been infected by some disease. But it was the sight of his eyes that truly made the tears stream down her cheeks; for behind them was no life, no look of love; none of the warmth that she would usually see when he looked upon her.
"You wanted to see me, father..........?" (Y/n) asked, as she got to her feet. The princess sensing that there was little point in informing her father of the death of Théodred; of telling him of the loss and pain that she felt for not having her sibling by her side. The lady hoping thought, that if he had said that he wanted to see her, then some little good could come out of this meeting.
"You are to marry Grima." Her father announced. The princess shaking her head, as she made her way backwards down the steps. Almost jumping out of her skin, as she bumped into the counsellor. The revolving man smiling at her again, as he reached out his hand for her to take.
"Is this not wonderful news, my love............." Wormtongue cooed, as the princess moved further away, shaking her head.
She had always known the black clad insect had had his eye on her; he had never made a secret of it. The way that he would try and talk to her, fawn over her; present her with gifts; but marriage................? No, she would rather take her own life than that; but how could she? She was her father's only surviving child. She was the heir to the throne of Rohan; and if anything were to happen to her, to Éomer and Éowyn, then there would be no hope left for the kingdom, or her people. (Y/n) allowing her head to drop, as more tears came. The princess knowing that for the moment there was nothing she could do but agree. Agree and hope that whatever gods there might be looking down on her, they would send help.
"Yes.............wonderful news................"