A/N: This was written in my head while I was in a really dark place. I will explain more at the end but I could not think of any other way to express what I felt, and that this lent itself to me is always good. Also, I used a different computer this time, so if there are any weird symbols, that has something to do with it.

Disclaimer: I do not own these people, J.R.R. Tolkien, or his estate/son does. Possibly New Line as well, though they have lost respect in my mind.

I had to leave; I don't know why I had to. I needed to run, to be away from everything, from my thoughts, from my fears. I was almost not allowed, for Grima Wormtounge wanted to detain me. He would not let me pass, thought I should not have gone. Instead I ran past, out the door to where I did not know.

I ran, am still running. The houses in Edoras are dark; none would know that a girl ran from the Meduseld, who left her shoes in the hall, running so fast as to kick them off. They would not notice even if that girl was the sister-daughter of the King. To run through the town, out the gates, to the plains, away.

The cold grass feels good on my feet; I do not care about that though. All I care is to get away. The tears fall down my face, burning compared to the cold of my skin. They are unasked for, but not unwanted. I feel them, feel what has happened and wish it not to have. I chase the wind, everywhere is dark, the moon is new, and no light does it shine.

The darkness engulfs me, washing over every part of my being. The farther I go, the farther I go from my problems, from the world I know.

Yet I can not escape it. The memories of everything, anything flooding my mind. The tears will not stop, never will they stop.

My running stops. I look to the heavens for an answer. None will come. How can these things happen? The gods will not answer me, are they even there? Why would I feel so alone? Though, I am always surrounded by people, I am alone.

I collapse to the ground, feeling the cold grass beneath my body. The ground tries to stop me from falling longer, thought it stops my body, not my mind, which falls into a black hole.

My thoughts turn to a new realization of mine. I had known my parents were dead, how they died, that they were never coming back. I did not believe it, though. I had not believed it; a part of me somehow believed that they would come back, even though I knew they would not. There is a difference between knowing and believing, the believing is the harder one to know.

To still have hope is not believing. I had not believed that my parents were gone. A child of seven does not believe such things. They would come back, but I still cried that they were gone. I missed them one birthdays, but still thought they would come back to see me. But now, about ten years later, I believe. I had known before, but only believed when my brother had started to go patrolling with the eored he belonged to. I was left with my King, my Uncle, to watch him fall to Wormtounge. Then I believed they would not come back. At twelve I believed. I did not want to, so I shout it out. Now it comes back, and I wait till I fall.

The sobs wrack my body, not expressing the depths to which I had fallen. I know that I should not feel this way, that I should be strong, if not for me, but for my people. But I can not right now, not ever. That is how I feel at the moment, that everything is too much.

The ground is cold, hard, unforgiving. That is how I should be, not like this, not wanting to be away from where I should be. Not crying in the night, out of the safety of my home.

I can hear the ruse ling of the leaves on the ground. The sounds of crickets chirping tries to bring me back to the world. Under the stars I feel so alone. Alone, that the darkness has no light will never have one.

I curl up in a ball, trying to keep myself from falling, trying to feel like I am not alone, to feel some comfort. The tears start again, coming silently this time. No longer does my voice give sound to the tears, a voice to my emotions. I can not stop this, this pain, this realization. I wish I could go back, back to a simpler time when I did not know this, to think this was only a few years ago. I can no think it was only years, if feels like an eternity.

I know I should go back. Back to where my bed is, but I do not want to go. Out here, there is death, in there is death as well, yet I am not confronted with it here, not seeing it before my eyes. Death. What would that bring for me? It would not bring me glory that which is what I want. Then my thoughts happen back to my parents and some how death does not seem like a viable option anymore. I would rather live, be with those I love.

My body and mind are spent. I wish to get away, yet they will not take me. The world of dreams may take me away, I wish it to come. My eyes slowly close, final tears seeping out as I drift to sleep, here on the plains of Rohan...

Eomer found her. She was not that far out. He knew that she would be here; he noticed how differently she was acting, far away, not there. He had felt that way once, but he had not run.

His way to help with his realization, with the knowledge that still haunted him at points, was to learn to fight. To train, to be able to hurt the creatures that had hurt him so, to have the power to kill as many Orcs ad possible. Eowyn had trained as well, his way of making sure she could be protected with out away. But he could not protect her now, not with what she was going through. She had to find a way herself, or else any comfort he gave would be rejected.

Eomer had ridden out here, fearing that she had gone farther than she had. He had seen what happened with Wormtounge, dealt with him before finding her. She had needed time to think, to be alone and think this through herself.

He dismounted, walked over to where his younger sister slept, and carefully picked her up. She stirred, but stayed asleep, too exhausted from all the emotions to wake. He placed her on the horse, then quickly mounted the horse himself and rode back to Edoras.

Eowyn did no wake, not when Eomer brought her back, not when he placed her in her bed, still in the clothe from the day. Not until the first rays of the sun came through her window, did she wake, to face her life and the world.

A/N(again): The whole knowing and not believing thing can be real, at least for me. Everything that has been happening in my life caught up with me when I wrote this, no well before I wrote this. So yeah, that's all I had to say, but it does mean something.