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#Grimowyn
exdeputysonso · 9 months
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So fair. So cold. Like a morning of pale spring still clinging to winter’s chill. - The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002)
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gilraina · 2 years
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Author: auri_mynonys (@starscreams-tiara​)
Fandom: The Lord of the Rings
Rating: General
Relationship: Éowyn/Gríma Wormtongue
Length: 00:08:29
Summary: Grima Wormtongue knows exactly what he wants, until her.
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ao3feed-tolkien · 1 year
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Before you Burn
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/oe684Ub
by grimwhoire
A little snapshot of an au piece I have been playing at working on where Gríma did not die. Éowyn is Queen of Rohan and has a gross little rat man trapped in the dungeon where he belongs. It’s not spectacularly shippy although it is certainly Grimowyn flavored. For now it’s just showing Gríma as the cowardly creep he is and Éowyn as rightfully hateful and angry. Love her the most. Enjoy!
Words: 1694, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: F/M
Characters: Éowyn (Tolkien), Gríma Wormtongue
Relationships: Éowyn/Gríma Wormtongue
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/oe684Ub
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trivialqueen · 4 years
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I’ve updated my shameful dark!ship LotR fanfic, the Queen’s Choice. 
Chapter 7: Dancing 
Chapter 8: Making Out
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thestraggletag · 7 years
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Hi there! I've recently discovered the Eowyn/ Grima 'ship, and I wondered if I could trouble you for some fic recs? (I seem to remember you posting about this 'ship in the past) Please & thank you!!
Thanks for waiting for a few days for a reply! There’s actually a really easy and short answer to this: Go here and GO NUTS. @airy-minotaur​ literally IS Grimowyn. Full stop, everyone go home, that’s it. I actually got hooked to her fics years ago in FF.net and later I found her here, through some fucking magic and now we’re friends and OMG, IT’S LIKE BEING FRIENDS WITH AN ACTOR/WRITER/ARTIST YOU FANGIRL ABOUT, IT’S THE BEST. She’s also super funny and has this section in her tumblr dedicated to “reviewing” the worst romance novels ever that is totally worth checking out too.
Now, thankfully, Airy is pretty prolific. And there’s literally NOTHING she’s written that I don’t fucking ADORE, usually angrily while I shake my laptop. But if you want my personal, read this first recs, here they are:
A Crown Laid Heavy On My Head (PG) - The House of Eorl is dead - all slain, save one: Eowyn, the last vestige of the House of Eorl. Taken in and raised by rebels on the borderlands of Rohan, Eowyn returns to Edoras in disguise, meaning to recruit others to her cause and gain access to Usurper King Wormtongue when the time comes to cut his throat. Instead, she finds the King is much cleverer than she thinks - and her duty perhaps far more than she can bear alone.
The Dog of Dunland: WIP. Alternatively known as the Slave!Grima fic. In an AU Rohan, Saruman’s spies have convinced the aged and ill Theoden that making slaves of the Dunlendings is the best way to punish them for their recent attacks on Rohan’s borders. Thousands of slaves are brought from Dunland into Rohan - but only one is granted the great fortune to serve the Lady Eowyn: Grima son of Galmod. Under her favor, Grima becomes known as Eowyn’s little pet - the Dog of Dunland. But Grima is far more than a pampered slave, and Eowyn more dangerous than her enemies may realize. 
Queen of Thieves: The Tale of Maid Hood [R] - Lady Eowyn fled her life as the Usurper King Theodred’s cousin and wife to Theodred’s right hand, Lord Counsellor Wormtongue, in protest against her cousin’s crowning when Theoden King yet lived. Six long years later, and Eowyn has become a hero known only as Maid Hood, a rebel and a fighter stealing money from the king’s men and giving it to the poor. But the Wormtongue knows her hiding place, and her camp may not be safe for long.
The Right of Choice [R] - AU. Grima is a healer in Dunland. He finds a freezing Eowyn, lost and wounded, just outside his home, and takes her in to care for her.
Sound and Fury [R] - A fight in Grima’s teenage years leaves his hearing permanently damaged; but clever Grima hides his disability well, reading lips so fluidly that no one guesses his secret. No one, that is, except Lady Eowyn…
The Wiles of a Woman (Part 1 [PG] - Part 2 [PG] - Part 3 [NC-17]) - Eowyn has never been much for romance or attraction; but when Grima appears in Edoras for the first time, her heretofore latent romantic interests spring painfully to life. But while Grima seems to want her, he certainly doesn’t trust her; and nothing will convince him that her motives in this are pure.
Dark Stallion (NC-17) - Grima is the Usurper King of Rohan, and husband to reluctant Eowyn. When he returns after court one day infuriated and looking for an escape, things take a turn for the surprisingly tender.
All Hail the Queen(NC-17) - Eowyn’s relations are all dead, and Eowyn is made queen at a young age. Many disapprove of her choice of counsellor - the half-blooded bastard Grima son of Galmod - but given that he is not only her counsellor but also her consort, there is little they can say against him that will sway the queen herself…
Year’s End (Part 1 [R] - Part 2 [PG]) - Eowyn gets a little tipsy and ends up saying and doing things she may not otherwise have done.
See no Evil: WIP.  Prompt was Blind!Eowyn and Tutor!Grima. Blinded in the fire that took her family’s lives and left her sole heir to the throne of Rohan, Eowyn ascends the throne and finds herself embroiled in a bitter battle for the seat beside her throne. The title of Lord Counsellor is very much desired, but none crave it more than Grima called Wormtongue.
Enjoy!
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5, 17 and 21!
5: What’s your favorite fictional ship? (Canon or otherwise)
Avalance from Legends of Tomorrow. While Supergirl fans have been desperately waiting for a hint of SuperCorp, Arrowverse sneakily dropped in the sweetest most badass enemies-to-lovers wlw power couple I have seen on TV (OK, barring Catradora) in their less-watched series. 
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I swear I am a straight girl but every time I watch this show I have to question it. Legends of Tomorrow is making me bi :’) 
17: If you could make a wish, what would you wish for if you knew it would come true?
I’d have to think very hard on the exact phrasing of a wish that would result in the environment being saved, global warming averted, and me being filthy rich
21: How does someone become friends with you?
I already answered that, fool! (Basically just we talk to each other & don’t get on each other’s nerves too much when I do things like call you a fool XD)
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bai-xue · 6 years
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Image of me at 5 am suddenly remembering that grimowyn exists
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silverchain · 9 years
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I made the goofiest thing ever known to man. It's a tiny grima/eowyn fanficlet(!!!), because I am ridiculous, and it's valentine's dayyyyy!!!
Since there's obviously no valentine's day in middle earth, and Rohan's traditions are based on Anglo-Saxon ones... I decided to use Imbolc as a stand-in. "Imbolc (Eem-volk): This is a celebration of the mysteries of femininity; also a celebration of the mother and the pregnant womb. This is a winter holiday, and is observed with the quiet togetherness of the family with the colors of pink, red, and white. " (http://research.uvu.edu/mcdonald/Anglo-Saxon/A-S-Life&Culture/Holidays.html) Close enough, my friends.
This is dedicated to aurimynonys since I like her fics so much, and it's set in the same au as her "year's end" fic. whoooooooooo:
Gríma slowly tore up the letter with long white fingers. This was his first Imbolc that he had someone to call his own, someone he truly cared about - but it was not the right time to express that on something as concrete as paper.
Éowyn was not ready to make their month-long relationship known, and Gríma couldn’t say that he disagreed. His star was rising in the court of Théoden, but he had many enemies. One of his most ardent detractors was Éowyn’s own brother. It wasn’t the right time to make public declarations. A sweet letter might be for her eyes alone, but Gríma knew how easily secrets could spread in Meduseld. He was the main collector of such secrets.
Luckily for him, Gríma was the most patient man in Rohan. He dropped the paper ribbons into the fire.
The counsellor leafed through his wardrobe. Even if he couldn’t give her anything, he could at least try to dress nicely for the day. He chose a cloak with a collar of raven feathers. Understated from a distance, but intricate and elegant up close. He ran his hand through his dark hair and winced at the looking-glass. Not much he could do about the face.
He made his way to the main hall with more reluctance than usual. Holidays were never his favorite, but Imbolc had the added annoyance of being for lover’s gifts, and never failed to turn the already idiotic court into complete children. The hall rang with an unusual level of jocular laughter and delighted clapping for such an early hour. Gríma’s eyes were already almost rolling out of his head before he even entered.
Rohan’s most esteemed noblemen and women were in a flurry of unwrapping gifts, reading anonymous love notes aloud, kissing the serving maids and each other, and drinking mead too early in the day. The counsellor passed behind them like a wraith, turning ideas over in his mind of how to work the atmosphere to his advantage. Maybe an affair would be carelessly revealed today, to be used against the participants at a later date, or maybe -
“Gríma!” The clear ringing voice of Théodred was the most unwelcome sound that could fall upon the counsellor’s ears. The handsome prince might not have the same outright disgust for him that Éomer did, but he could be playful and cruel. There was a familiar sparkle in Théodred’s eye - the look one sees in a boy who throws stones at stray dogs.
That makes me the stray, Gríma thought. He arranged his features into an obsequious smile, steeling himself for a masked insult.
“Counsellor, it seems that you have an admirer!” The prince was braying like a hound. Gríma flinched. People around them were turning to see.
“Your Highness?”
“Look there, at your place. There’s a gift! And no note, no clue to the sender. Have you been flirting with the cooks, Wormtongue? Perhaps some stable-girl has taken a shine to you?”
Gríma concealed his confusion. At his chair, by Théoden’s throne, there was a tiny bundle of black velvet, no bigger than his palm, and tied with a piece of ribbon.
“Some joke, perhaps, your Highness,” the counsellor said, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth as hard as he could to deflect his anger. He moved quickly to the bundle and began unwrapping it, wanting the jest to be over and done with as speedily as possible. The rest of the day would have to be spent ferreting out the perpetrator and exacting revenge.
“What is it? A button? A chicken bone?” Théodred loomed over him with hungry curiosity.
The velvet fell away. It was a cloak pin, finely wrought from gold. Stylized wolves chased a stag around the circle, flat and grooved in the Rohirric style. It was no gift from a servant. The prince fell back as though he had been struck, a mocking remark dead on his lips.
Gríma was no less surprised. He turned the brooch over in his hand, running his thumb over the metal. Two runes were etched on the back. Horse-joy. Éowyn.
He flipped the pin back over and looked up with bright eyes. No one was close enough to have read it.
The door of the hall snapped open, helped by the late-winter winds. Everyone was distracted by the swirl of snow and the laughing few that came in with it: Théoden, the princess Éowyn, and a few men of the Rohirrim. After a last glance of interest at Gríma and his brooch, Théodred left to meet them. The king boomed something merry about hoping to have received a haystack of love notes, and in the confusion of well wishing and visiting, Éowyn slipped over to where the counsellor was still clutching his cloak pin like he’d stolen it.
She was wearing a gown the color of a rose petal. It matched her freckled cheeks, flushed from running around in the falling snow. He would have loved to lean down the few inches between them and kiss her. The princess looked down at the gift in his hands and gauged his expression.
“What a lovely present. Someone must care about you very much,” she touched his arm and smiled at him, crystals of ice still melting in her hair and eyelashes. Then in a sweep of golden curls she moved away to sit with her brother and cousin.
Gríma stared after her with unblinking blue eyes. For a few hours he forgot all his plans for spying and extorting, and mentally composed the letter he would someday be able to write.
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trivialqueen · 5 years
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The Queen’s Choice, A Grimowyn AU: 1. Holding Hands
Disclaimer: One Disclaimer to rule them all – I own not but the mistakes. No offence nor infringement intended.
Summary: Éowyn is the last heir of the House of Eorl, but in order to take her throne she must become a woman by custom, she must marry. Éowyn likes few of her courtiers and trusts even less of them. She does trust one thing; however, she trusts that Gríma son of Gálmód loves her. It’s not a lot but it is enough, especially if she is ever going to have a chance to leave her mark on the pages of history. Grimowyn AU.
Notes: Inspired in part by auri_mynonys who showed me how wonderful this ship can be. Also inspired by the fact that apparently if one wants more Grimowyn stories one has to write them. Loosely based around a series of prompts on DeviantArt a few years ago, the 30-Day OTP Challenge. Please feel free to comment and critique! I will be the first to admit that it has been some time since I read Lord of the Rings/ saw the movies. I know characterization will likely be off, I just hope it’s not too painful. Also, I apologize up front for the characterization of Théodred, please forgive the AU.
Théodred died as he had lived - in a woman’s bed. He died without legitimate issue, a fact Éowyn almost mourned more than her cousin’s death. Three years ago, King Théoden died, wasted away by a disease that ate him from the inside out. Three years before that Éowyn’s elder brother, Éomer, had fallen, along with the rest of his fellow riders, in a vicious warg attack as they patrolled the Misty Mountains. Seven years before that she lost both her parents – one to battle, the other to grief. At nigh twenty Éowyn, daughter of Éomund, niece of Théoden, was utterly without family. Her chest ached with the emptiness of orphanhood, loneliness drew the tears to her eyes and flavored them with salt and bitterness. What made her body shake and throat burn with blood and acidic bile, however, was not being utterly alone in the world. It was the larger issue, as large as Rohan itself. She was the last member of her family. She was the last legitimate member of the House of Eorl. She was now Queen.
Théodred had been retrieved from one bed and place in another, cleaned, groomed, and dressed in the softest white tunic and breeches, silver and gold thread forming intricate knots and patterns at the neck, wrist, and hem. On the morrow he would be interred but for now he was laid in a side chamber for visitation. He is peaceful in his eternal sleep Éowyn thought, trying to stem the tide of tears, though her thoughts did not stray far from the morbid. For whatever reason that fact amused her. Her amusement amused her further until she giggled. The first was soft but a second came swiftly, a throaty arpeggio in contrast to her more wrenching sobs. The twitters dissolved into silent tremors – emotions too confused to sound. Éowyn – Queen – standing over the last of her kin giggling with tear stained cheeks and an emptiness that made her sway.
“My Lady?” His sonorous voice was full of concern, yet its worried tone lost none of its richness. Éowyn turned at the words and, damnit - shieldmaidens did not swoon - she felt the world shift under her unprepared feet. He, and his rich voice were to her in a moment, a gentle hand on her arm to steady her, to ground her. “Forgive me, my Lady, I did not intend to startle you so.”
Éowyn did not have to raise her eyes far to meet the piercing, crystal blue gaze of Gríma, son of Gálmód, Lord Counsellor. His deep-set eyes were focused on her intently, like he could read her very soul. Not that it was difficult at the moment, her soul was shattered, raw and bleeding along the broken edges. A tear rolled off her cheek and landed on her collarbone, breaking the spell the Counsellor’s eyes cast. Gently he removed his hand to retrieve his handkerchief. He pressed the cloth into her hand, it felt clean although it was rumpled and covered in faded ink stains. She dropped her gaze to the cloth, were his hand lingered on hers.
“I am needed?” Her voice was brittle. She made no move to dry her eyes, nor he to draw back his hand.
“No. I came to see if you needed...something.” He meant to say someonebut clearly thought “something” to be a more appropriate choice. What Éowyn needed was her family alive and with her again. What she needed was not to be sole heir to the throne. What she needed was not to be alone. She knew that Gríma knew this though he would not say it. She knew it like she knew that in spite the pain and trials of the world the sun would rise again. People feared Gríma, hated him as well. Théodred himself couldn’t stand the man but couldn’t be buggered to do the business of statecraft and so could not remove him from the small council. Had Éomer lived Éowyn knew he would have hated Gríma more than Théodred. Éowyn knew all the reasons to hate Gríma, son of Gálmód, from his mixed blood to his suspected mixed loyalties, his sorcery to his spiteful, often cruel temper. He was not to be trusted, Éowyn was well aware and yet also very willing to overlook it. His flaws were lessoned – not expunged – but blunted in her mind by one grace. One saving grace. Gríma sawher. He saw her, Éowyn, not daughter of the noble Éomund or the White Lady of Rohan, not Princess, not Queen but Éowyn. And what he saw he did not seek to change but rather sought to understand and what he could not he took in stride.
“I need my family.” She said, finally raised her hand and his handkerchief to dry her eyes, and more importantly buy her time to phrase her request.
“Would that I could, my Lady, I would reunite them at your side.” He offered, hand twitching slightly. Few people touched her, even fewer she suspected touched the man known at court as “Wormtongue”. Did he miss contact as much as she, she wondered suddenly.
“You are a truly loyal man, but I am aware you have limits.” Her face was dry, but she loathed to give up the now damp cloth in her hand. “I am not ready to leave.” Her eyes turned back to her cousin, the King while still above ground, silent but regal still. To leave would mean to enter a new reality, one she felt utterly unprepared for. “I am not ready to leave but cannot bare to be alone.” She returned her gaze to his and could see her own pain reflected in his eyes. If anyone knew what ‘alone’ was, it was this bastard son of Rohan. “Would you sit a while with an orphan?” She meant the question to lighten the mood. It did not. Gingerly she reached for his hand. A closer study of his face – his eyes, the set of his muscles where eyebrows should grow – told her he was still deciding how best to comfort her, feeling how much of her tone was safe sarcasm designed to shield other feelings. She laced her sword calloused fingers through his writing calloused ones and led him to the seat she had occupied and its long cold companion.
She sat, hand in his, forcing him to sit as well. Gently she squeezed his pale fingers.
“Perhaps soon I will be ready to face-” she paused, unsure of how to correctly articulate what had her so very – Valar she couldn’t even pick an emotion – trepidatious about the world and her new place in it.
Gríma squeezed her hand in return. He understood.
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Just a few color-corrections to make this scene less green-yellow tinted. 
idk I think Grima looks more romantic and less like a lizard in warm hues.  
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bai-xue · 6 years
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Me: *says 'grimowyn' one (1) time*
@starscreams-tiara: I Have Been Summoned
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wordssometimesfail · 10 years
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i-sudoku replied to your post:For the fandom pairing thing: Supernatural (I think I know who your OTP is), Lord of the Rings, and Harry Potter.
A lot of popular but crack pairings for SPN and also LOTR. But seriously, I didn’t expect Grima and Eowyn.
Yeeeeah, I tend to gravitate towards the more popular pairings for a lot of series. And oh, damn, Grima/Eowyn… I was curious about it for years when I was younger because there was something that intrigued me about their dynamic, but it wasn't until later that I read some great fic and realized that I shipped it with the fire of a thousand burning suns.
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