In
a fit of frustration one afternoon, Willow decided she needed more
help. School was too much effort to deal with, what with Scooby
activities, hiding her magic use, and mooning after Tara. The rest
of them didn’t understand her or know what she was capable
of.
Never
once did she expect what happened, however. A few casually whispered
words and suddenly he was there, kneeling on the floor of the Summers’
master suite.
He
looked up at her, peering through greasy hair, simpering up at her
like she lit the sun in his world.
“What
are your wishes? I live only to serve you.” He blinked and
a fat pair of tears leaked out of his watery eye. He reached out
and gripped her hand with his, cool and sort of clammy, and curled
his lips into a smile that promised her the world if she wished
it. “Whatever you require will be done.”
Willow
found she rather liked the amoral gleam in his eye and patted his
head. “Oh, I think you and I shall get along well.”
He peered up at her, rubbing her palm on his cheek. “What
do I call you?”
“Grima
Wormtongue, my lady.”
~Fin~
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