Éowyn saw the look that Gríma gave her that day. …It was a look that she would never be able to forget.

For it was the same day that Théodred was saved by his cousin, Éomer, and the accusation that Éomer himself, laid upon Gríma in the Great Hall of Rohan, where Théodred's father, Théoden (who was also Éowyn and Éomer's beloved Uncle), was slowly succumbing to the cruel and torturous decay of his own being, by none other than the wicked and evil white wizard, Saruman.

However, this was farfrom just a typical look, as one would look up at the sky, hoping for the slightest beam of ray from the sun after a cold, cloudy day of rain, thunder, and lightening. A simple look one would give to an inanimate object they were about to pick up or move. A look one would give another person, about to give a friendly, perhaps even comical, response to a simple, typical question.

The look Gríma gave Éowyn at that very moment, although she fought with all her might not to show it on her face [the last thing she ever wanted to give Gríma was any sort of pleasurable, self-satisfaction], it still terrified her on the inside. She had a small suspicion that she was being watched by the King's Lord Counselor, but never, until he, Gríma, immediately darted his piercing blue eyes right on Éowyn and locked his eyes with hers, did she realize that he truly was watching her.

While the moment only lasted for a few seconds, it felt like hours to her. For his look, his gaze, was like that of no other. It was one that could easily haunt one, deep in their sleep, and out of nowhere, creep up on them during the most peaceful and blissful of dreams during a perfect night's slumber.

Without the immediate knowledge of Éowyn, the orders of Gríma Wormtongue were given.

Éomer would never forget those orders, nor that day. Gríma's words, voice, and the orders he spoke of were still as clear in his mind as a crystal clear creek, created by the melting snow of winter's end and the swift arrival of spring…

"You see much, Éomer, son of Eomund. …Too much. You are banished forthwith from the Kingdom of Rohan. …Under pain of death".

Éomer angrily and assertively shouted at Gríma and reminded him that he, Gríma, had no authority, and his orders meant nothing.

It was then that Éomer, was shocked when Gríma reached for a document under his jet black fur-lined cloak, and told him,

"Oh, this order doesn't come from me, it comes from the King". Gríma shook the document to straighten it out so Éomer could see it for himself, with his own eyes.

As much as Gríma would have loved for the order to have come from himself, this was still good enough for him. Regardless of who gave or signed the order, Éomer would soon be gone.

Gríma continued with a more upbeat and almost pleasured tone in his voice, "He signed it this morning", and gave Éomer a glare and an evil smirk that sent immediate fright into him, as he was taken away by the guards who protected and watched over Rohan's Great Hall.

But Éomer wasn't afraid for himself, he was afraid for Éowyn. He knew Gríma was after her. She was, after all, the treasure. It was she who Gríma was watching for far too long. It was her steps who Gríma was haunting.

After coming to the horrifying realization that she, Éowyn, was Gríma's 'treasure' [a look of disgust and horror covered her face and chills were sent through her entire body whenever she thought of him referring to her in that word and in his deceptive, manipulative tone], she wanted nothing more to do with him, nor the conversation between Éomer and Gríma.

Éowyn simply couldn't take it, and she left. As she walked out and the massive doors that lead to the Great Hall closed behind her, she stood just outside the doors of the Great Hall of Rohan, overlooking what was once a happy, peaceful, joyful land. She took a few moments to take in the gentle wind that spread across the land that day. She closed her eyes and felt her hair being tasseled by the wind, and simply enjoyed the feeling of a moment of refreshment, peace, and inner bliss, which was brought on simply by nature.

With her eyes still closed, she felt a bit of warmth on her skin from the shining sun above, and a tiny smile emerged on her face, as took in a deep, cleansing breath to inhale to the beauty that was still left of her kingdom. Of course, much had changed since Saruman had taken hold of King Théoden and Gríma had made it his own personal mission to try as hard as he could to keep her in his sights at all times, but something about being outside, being at one with nature, could make all her worries and moments of despair disappear. …Even though those moments were only temporary.

As she exhaled and opened her eyes, she spotted, out of the corner of her eye, her brother Éomer and his fellow fighting men of Rohan who were loyal to him. She knew something was going on, but what it was, she did not know. Confused, worried, and curious, she rushed down the stone steps that lead to the Great Hall, and ran towards the stables where the horses of the fighting men of Rohan were kept.

She frantically searched for Éomer, and when she found him, she bombarded him with questions.

"Why are you preparing to leave? Where are you going? …Have Uruks been spotted in the near lands?"

Éomer let out an unusual sigh, and looked down.

"What's going on, where are you going, why won't you answer me?!", she asked in a frantic and obviously worried tone.

He lead his sister to a corner where there was a little more privacy from the other Rohan fighters. He looked around carefully before he spoke, and took a moment to muster up the courage to tell his dear sister the truth and answer her questions.

…"I've been banished from Rohan. I must leave, and quickly", he replied.

The curious look that had been on Éowyn's face immediately turned to a look of fright and absolute horror.

"But…that's impossible! The King, our Uncle! He has always been like a Father to us! He would never do this!" Éowyn paused for a brief moment and quickly gathered her thoughts.

"Unless…", she softly said under her breath, and her eyes instantly grew wide with suspicion and worry. …"No…No!", she shouted, and without thinking, pushed Éomer away and darted for the entrance to the stables.

She quickly ran out of the stables to get a clear view of the steps that lead up to the Great Hall. Standing there, staring right at her with his unmistakable piercing blue eyes, was Gríma. He had a smirk on his face, although she was standing too far away from him to see it. She immediately knew that this order was not truly that of their Uncle. She locked eyes with Gríma for a moment as she quickly put the pieces of this puzzle of madness together, and knew that it was he, Gríma, not their beloved Uncle, who was truly responsible for this order.

Horrified by the realization that she had come to, she ran back into the stables to Éomer.

"You can not leave!", she said in a desperate, begging tone to her brother.

He knelt down and held her hands in his, and looked up at her. "I have to leave, Éowyn. You must understand that I have no choices, no options. I've been banned. I must go, and for this, I am so sorry, my dear sister".

Éowyn was in both shock and disbelief. She knew Gríma was a man of ill intentions, but this was an action even she didn't think he was capable of being so cruel of casting upon her, her family, and the people of Rohan.

"Then I'm coming with you!", she said in a frightened and assertive tone, and turned to find a horse she could ride on, but she immediately felt someone pull her back. She turned around and to her relief, it was Éomer, not Gríma.

"Oh, Éowyn. You must stay. This order was cast upon me, not you. You must stay and you must be strong. You must stay and look after our dear Uncle, our Cousin, and our kingdom. You're the only one left in our family who's not on the brink of death, whom has a pure heart that isn't poisoned by Saruman. Without you, Rohan will fall. And who knows what will become of the King? Our Uncle?".

Éowyn suddenly had a listless, lifeless look in her eyes. She knew her brother was right, but his words provided her with little comfort. For she was wasn't just scared, worried, nor even afraid now. …She was absolutely terrified.

"You can't leave me! Not here, not alone like this! What about him? What about Gríma?!", she said in a whisper-like tone that was wrapped with fear, worry, and absolute horror inside it. The look of complete fear on her face mirrored her tone exactly.

"You know how to defend yourself, Éowyn. He doesn't know this!", Éomer said in an also whisper-like response.

Éowyn's jaw dropped and her eyes grew wide in both shock and fear.

She whispered to her brother in response, "You think a simple blade will be enough to protect me against him?! Who only knows what he's capable of, along with that Wizard's power!".

Éomer sighed, and looked at his sister. "You must believe in yourself, Éowyn. You must be strong. You must fight for the greater good, and hold true to yourself. Stay close to Théoden. He is still himself, deep inside. Though his mind is confused, in his heart, he knows who you are, and he loves you. You must stay close to him, closer than even Gríma would."

A tear ran down her ever so innocent face as she watched her brother finish placing the last piece of armor on his head. She took a step back as she watched Éomer mount his horse.

He bent down and whispered to Éowyn, "I'll figure something out. It will take time, but I promise, this will not be the last time we see one another. I will be back in time, Éow--"

Éomer's final words to his sister were quickly interrupted and cut short.

"I am quite sorry to intrude, but I have given you the King's orders. Unless you wish to die, I suggest that you leave. And you should leave now."

To her horror, she knew who spoke those demanding orders, covered by an obviously false sense of concern. Before she could even look up at her brother to say goodbye, Éowyn clenched her eyes shut and fought back the tears that had been building up inside. She refused to let Gríma see her show any signs of inner, emotional weakness.

"As you wish", Éomer said to Gríma, in an angry and resentful tone.

He turned to his followers who were also on horseback, armored, and ready to leave Rohan, who were awaiting instruction from Éomer.

"We ride North!", he shouted, and the horses quickly lead them out of the stables.

He couldn't bring himself to look back at his sister. As strong of a man Éomer was, his heart felt more weak than ever. He feared for his kingdom. He feared for what would become of Rohan. He wondered what would become of his Cousin, the Prince of Rohan, and his Uncle, the King. But most of all, he feared for his sister. He, too, knew how terrified she was of the King's Lord Counselor. But to let her accompany him on a journey where he didn't even know it would lead nor end…he just could not do. As much as it sickened him to know that Gríma was now free to observe Éowyn's every action, to follow and haunt her every step…He knew he had no choice. He didn't even know what would become of his own being and what his own fate would be. To put his beloved younger sister in that same position, he just could not bring himself to do so.

Éowyn stood as still as statue as she watched her brother and his men ride off. She couldn't believe what was happening to her world.

Her dear Uncle, the King of Rohan, who was practically like a Father to her after the passing of her own biological Father, was poisoned by Saruman, and was so very weak. She feared he would soon be gone, too.

She feared for what would become of Théodred. She saw his wounds. As much as she hoped for a miracle, as much as she hoped that somehow, her cousin, who was more like a brother to her, would be spared and survive such a terrible encounter with the Uruks, in reality, she knew his chances of survival were growing dimmer with each passing moment. It would be a miracle if he were to even live to see the sun the following day.

She feared for her brother, Éomer. Why was it to the North that he chose to lead he and his men? Was he okay? Was Saruman secretly watching he and his men somehow? What if they were headed right into a trap, an ambush of Uruks? Yes, Éomer survived his last encounter with the hideously wretched creatures, but only to bring Théodred back with wounds that were sure to be the cause of why his young life was to very likely be cut so short, so early. All she could do was pray that by the grace of all that is good, that Éomer was still safe, unharmed, and alive.

Putting those she loved before herself, as she always had, lastly, she feared for herself. Though she was not truly alone, she quickly began to feel like she was.

"Come, my lady. For it will be dark soon, and it is growing cold".

She felt Gríma place his hand on her shoulder. As much as she wanted to draw a blade and destroy Gríma with all her might, she didn't do anything. She didn't push him away. She didn't scream at him in hatred and anger. Instead, she turned around and faced him.

"Come, my lady. We should get you back to the Great Hall".

Gríma lifted his hand from Éowyn's shoulder and led her back to the place where it all began. Where the order for her brother to be sent away was given. She felt his hand on her lower back, leading her, back to the steps that lead to the Castle. Little did she know, Gríma had not a smile, but a smirk on his face, that was colder than even Winter's most harsh chill. Éowyn wouldn't speak of nor admit how she felt, but she didn't need to, for Gríma knew it.

He knew what she feared. He knew how frightened she was now that her brother was gone. He had seen the way she and Éomer interacted and relied on one another for years. Éomer always watched over his sister, even in their younger years. That brought great comfort to Éowyn. Éomer had never been away from his sister for an extended period of time, and even when he did leave, she always knew when she should expect his return.

Now, she knew nothing. All she knew, was that Éomer, her rock for so many years, was gone. And with that reality hitting her like a swarm of Elfish arrows aimed precisely towards her chest, she felt what she feared so deeply. Being alone; Loneliness.

While she had a skill that allowed her to protect herself, she never needed to use it, as Éomer was always there for her, and she knew he would always protect her. This, Gríma also knew, as he saw her on the rare occasions where she would wield her blade and practice her skill, though it was never for an extended period of time. The one thing she thought she could protect herself with, Gríma was already well aware of, and she had no idea that he knew, and that he had known for a long time. For he also carried a sword, and he knew how to wield and use it to its very best defense. Should Éowyn ever even try to draw her blade in defense against an attack or assault by Gríma, she didn't stand a chance. He was bigger, older, wiser, smarter, and more skilled with a blade than she would ever be.

The guards opened the doors to the Great Hall, and Gríma lead Éowyn inside. When she heard the doors clash shut behind her, she could feel her heart sink into her stomach. As much as she had wished that this was all a horrible nightmare that she would soon awaken from, it wasn't. And that was made very clear when Gríma slowly turned her around, placed his left hand on her right shoulder, and with his right hand, softly brushed her cheek. As much as she tried to avoid eye contact with him, she could feel herself becoming almost listless, and finally allowed her eyes to slowly meet up to his. A false smile of concern came upon his face.

"I am sorry that your Uncle has forced your brother to leave you here, alone, my dear. But, you do know that he has only you and the people of Rohan at his best interest".

Éowyn didn't say even one word in response to Gríma. She didn't look away from his piercing gaze. She felt as if she couldn't even move. All she knew, was that her world was changing, and in the worst possible ways.

"Come, my dear. Let me lead you to your rooms, as I'm sure you'd like to rest before the servants announce the call for dinner".

He gave her one last soft caress on her cheek, and slowly turned her away from him. With his hand once again on her lower back, he lead her down the corridors to where her one place of privacy and solitude was. It was if she didn't even remember the way to her own rooms. By this time, the sun had set, and darkness filled the castle and all its corridors, with the exception of the flickering flames of the candles that lined the tall, stone walls. Gríma looked down upon his treasured Éowyn, standing right in front of him. While he was so very tempted to grab her and embrace his beloved, he had to resist. …For now, at least. His time would come. He knew this. And he knew it wouldn't be long…

It wasn't until the large wooden door, lined and decorated with metal embellishments made a cracking sound as it opened, did Éowyn come back to reality. She softly wiped a tear from her cheek, and went to enter her room. She could both hear and feel Gríma following behind her, and entering her room right behind her. She froze; Her eyes grew wide with intense fear of the unknown. Never had she ever allowed Gríma to enter her room. Nor had he even been this close to this wing of the castle. …At least to her knowledge. But little did she know, he did, and he had been this close many, many times, both in recent nights and in the past. Gríma had to resist his strong urge to embrace and lay a passionate kiss on his beloved, his treasured Éowyn. He stared at her from behind. He gazed her from the crown of her beautiful, long, golden hair, to the very bottom of the beautiful, elegant gown that gently touched the floor. As much as knowing his intimidation weakened her, he did feel a bit of guilt conjuring up inside him for bringing pain upon the one he secretly loved, lusted for, and desired so dearly, he had to break the silence and let her be.

"May I bring you anything, my lady?", he asked in an unusually odd, concerned, almost caring tone.

She couldn't bring herself to completely turn around and look at him, but somehow, she managed to slowly face him over her shoulder.

"No…thank you", she replied, and slowly turned back to her original stance.

"Then I shall see you at dinner", he said, and slowly closed the door to her room, but not without once again gazing her up and down. He felt like he could admire her beauty for the rest of his life, but he had other things to tend to, and with that, he shut Éowyn's door.

Listless, mentally exhausted, confused, angered, frustrated…and alone. She turned away from her bed, but she was close enough so that when she fell back, as if she had been hit with an arrow, she landed on the soft furs that covered it. Tears began to stream from her beautiful eyes, but she didn't make a single sound. What was the point? Who would hear it? Gríma? A servant? Gríma was the last person she wanted to see, as she had finally ridden herself of him, even if for only an hour at the most, until the call that dinner was to be served would come. While she was always kind, polite, and appreciative of those whom served and catered to her and her family's needs, she knew no one would understand what was happening to her. Her world, as she knew it, was slowly crumbling.

Her dear cousin, Théodred, was so very close to death. She lay there wondering if he was even still alive. That thought only further deepened her pain. She couldn't bring herself to go to him. Not now. Her beloved Uncle, King Théoden, was under some sort of bizarre, life-draining spell which was cast upon him by Saruman. Gríma was the one making orders and practically running not only her home, the castle, but the entire Kingdom of Rohan, since Théoden was too weak to do anything. Even speaking was becoming a challenge for him. The few words he was able to mutter were nearly always directed towards Gríma, if anyone. Her brother, protector and best friend, Éomer, was banished from their own home, their Kingdom.

'What is to become of me?' she silently asked herself in her own mind.

Tears continued to flow from her eyes, and she quietly cried herself into a light slumber…