Pretty Hate Machine
folder
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
4,312
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
4,312
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Equinox
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, this is all based on J.R.R. Tolkien's work. Since I make no money out of it I don't expect to be sued.
Summary: Éowyn/Gríma. Yep. Fear my OTP of doom.
Pretty Hate Machine
EQUINOX
It was a beautiful knife. The curve pleased the eye, and her fingers fit snugly into the handhold when she wrapped them around the dark brown leather of the handle. She thought of slender fingers, the tips wide and round, nails small and snug against the flesh - blue veins showing faintly under the translucent skin.
She brought the blade to her face, feeling the smooth cool metal. The leather even smelled like him, still.
It was the most beautiful knife she has ever seen.
"He ran. I guess the lads were just alarmed. He killed him and ran." Merry had looked steadily at her, frowning a little. Perhaps he had been trying to interpret her silence, her grimness.
Yes, that would seem odd to him, wouldn't it?
She had wanted to tell him. Perhaps she would, still, later.
She heard the door creak. She closed her eyes. This was her bedchamber, and she had not heard him move; it could only be her husband. Her hands fell into her lap, still clutching the sharp curving metal. "Éowyn...!"
"Do not fear for me, husband," she said quietly. "But please, leave me, if just for now."
She heard the rustle of cloth, and the door creak closed; Faramir was nothing if not respectful. She decided that she would talk to him later, make sure he knew all he needed to know.
Confusion, shadows, lies - they did not belong in her life anymore.
Clouds broke, somewhere outside, letting a tendril of sunlight in through the large windows of the chamber. It fell on her slippered feet. The light seemed grey and edgy to her eyes, so used now to the gloom, but it felt warm on her foot.
"I loved you," she whispered to the pattern of red droplets on the blade.
Summary: Éowyn/Gríma. Yep. Fear my OTP of doom.
Pretty Hate Machine
EQUINOX
It was a beautiful knife. The curve pleased the eye, and her fingers fit snugly into the handhold when she wrapped them around the dark brown leather of the handle. She thought of slender fingers, the tips wide and round, nails small and snug against the flesh - blue veins showing faintly under the translucent skin.
She brought the blade to her face, feeling the smooth cool metal. The leather even smelled like him, still.
It was the most beautiful knife she has ever seen.
"He ran. I guess the lads were just alarmed. He killed him and ran." Merry had looked steadily at her, frowning a little. Perhaps he had been trying to interpret her silence, her grimness.
Yes, that would seem odd to him, wouldn't it?
She had wanted to tell him. Perhaps she would, still, later.
She heard the door creak. She closed her eyes. This was her bedchamber, and she had not heard him move; it could only be her husband. Her hands fell into her lap, still clutching the sharp curving metal. "Éowyn...!"
"Do not fear for me, husband," she said quietly. "But please, leave me, if just for now."
She heard the rustle of cloth, and the door creak closed; Faramir was nothing if not respectful. She decided that she would talk to him later, make sure he knew all he needed to know.
Confusion, shadows, lies - they did not belong in her life anymore.
Clouds broke, somewhere outside, letting a tendril of sunlight in through the large windows of the chamber. It fell on her slippered feet. The light seemed grey and edgy to her eyes, so used now to the gloom, but it felt warm on her foot.
"I loved you," she whispered to the pattern of red droplets on the blade.