A/N: Half of this is Eowyn's POV, other half is Faramir's. Please review. Thanks!

"life after inside death"

I always go with my intuition. My inside knowledge. But I didn't know it would do so much damage. Not only to me, but also my people. My uncle, my brother. they all told me not to go to war. But I did, and now I'm here, caged and being treated in Gondorien hospitality.

What is to become of me now? No words, or hands of a healer could mend my shattered life. Occasionally, I look out my window, facing the west, and see a man...Gondorien, perhaps. With dirty-blonde-brown hair. At times, our eyes meet, and something in me freezes. But at evening, he's naught but a distant memory. I will not let men hinder me anymore. the man I once loved, my healer, broke my heart at the eve of battle. I suppose that is what made me go to war. But the man who drove me to desperate measures, who penetrated the mind of my uncle, and killed my cousin, will never leave my memory.

Grima Wormtouge.

Just thinking about him makes me shudder.

Everything about him was so cold. Even his heart. He made me miserable for every second he was there. He put my country in danger. He took all my courage, and hope away. He trapped me, made me feel venerable, he banished my brother from Rohan, and from all of its landmarks, let all children, and villages burn, by the will of Saruman, and yet he was once a man of Rohan. I am glad that he is dead. He deserved nothing more. His voice, and appearance still haunts me. I always have nightmares of him. They're so dark, and violent, that at times I had awoken with my brother next to me.

Now that my uncle is gone, I now only have Eomer as family, and he is now king. My life moves nowhere, each day grows more cold, dark, and dangerous. No one is to be trusted. I cannot even trust myself anymore...but as I look upon that Gondorien man, hope enters me...

The White Lady, they call her. Everyday, I look upon these walls, praying she will come out. This is not likely of me falling in love. But I just know that she's the one who could make my life all better.

I now have the duty of the Steward, since my father has gone. I'm not ready. I do not wish to take my father's place. Gandalf's story of how he died stings me...he had tried to take me with him...he had tried to burn my body with his...Whenever I close my eyes, I can still see the red, hot burning flames that surrounded me... the screams of my father, as the fires take him. I suppose if my father had lived though it, he'd be happy if I didn't... I thought he loved he, or even cared about my life, or actions...How wrong I was...

Temptations of suicidal actions swam around me, but I did not try anything. I stayed for my men, for Boromir, for Gondor, for if I had died, it would not have been me who would've been effected. Its the ones I leave behind. When Boromir left this world, and my father wished for exchange between us, nothing to me mattered anymore.

Suicide attempt, and I failed, as always. And now I'm here, awaiting my fate. Slowly healing, not only physically, but emotionally, as well...and every time I see her, my eagerness grows to meet her...