That afternoon, after a long and painful discussion with Rohan's much beloved and respected Healer, Éowyn sat at the side of her bed, in her bedchambers. She wasn't crying, she wasn't sobbing. She herself didn't even know what she was she was thinking. She was so overwhelmed, the mere idea of having to sort out her thoughts individually made her sigh and shudder at the thought. She slowly stood up, patted her face dry should any tears have remained on her face, and decided that she had a duty placed upon her, and to put that duty aside any longer would be unfair to the Lord, and perhaps revealing the truth to him would somehow lift a small amount of weight off her own shoulders, which she so desperately needed.

She opened her door, and closed it behind her as she headed down the corridor that lead to the stairs. She walked down them, and in Rohan's Great Hall, there he was. Her beloved Uncle, the King, was there, sitting listlessly upon his throne. She looked at him with the deepest sorrow and sadness in her eyes. She would have given anything to have not have to be the one to bear the news to him that his one and only child was now dead.

Éowyn walked down the final few steps, and slowly approached her Lord. She looked around to assure that there was no one else immediately around, as this was something she felt that was, frankly, only the business of she and the King. Her breathing slowed as she approached her Uncle's throne, and with much hesitation, she finally broke the news she so dreaded to have to share. Éowyn knelt down beside her Uncle, took his hand in hers, and spoke.

"My Lord. …Your son. …He is dead", she said, slowly caressing his hand.

He said nothing. There was no response from him, but she could he was certainly not dead. He was indeed very much alive, but his mind was very severely poisoned by Saruman.

Knowing this, she was still shocked that her Uncle wouldn't omit even the slightest of responses.

"My Lord? Uncle?", she said as the tears that had built up in her eyes burst and slowly drew down her face. She didn't expect him to react this way. To react with no reaction at all baffled her. She made one last attempt to get through to him, and very tightly held his hands in hers.

"Will you not go to him? …Will you do nothing?" she finally asked, as if for some confirmation from him.

All Éowyn received was a look on his face of lifelessness, though he was still alive. Éowyn wondered if her beloved Uncle even understood what she was telling him. Was he able to understand it? Able to comprehend and process it? Or was Saruman overthrowing his ability to feel emotion, too?

Although, sadly, Théoden wasn't able to go see his son, Éowyn took it upon herself to back to him. She was very much alone now. Though her dear cousin Théodred was dead, she was so desperate for some sort of love, some sort of companionship, that she simply knelt at his bedside, he cold, dead hand being held within hers, and she wept. She reminisced about the fun they had while growing up. She remembered the fun they used to have. But most of all, she remembered when she felt safe, and when she didn't feel alone. Now, without her brother or cousin, she was vulnerable, and alone. She feared both of these greatly but tried hard not to show it to those she wouldn't let in, no matter how hard they tried on the outside.

Although it had only been some ten or fifteen minutes that Éowyn had spent beside Théodred in his bedchambers, she suddenly felt the oncoming presence of someone else. Could it be that Théoden had come to his senses and was coming to see his son like she had so desperately asked of him? However, Théoden was very weak. If it was him, she would hear someone assisting him to his son's room. Whomever this person approaching was, they were alone. Perhaps it was the grief that caused her to take so long to realize who it was. And when the identity of the person approaching finally hit her, she simply closed her eyes. She saw a shadow slowly enter through the hallway on the other side of the wall. She looked down, and softly kissed Théodred's hand. She slightly glanced left, then right, and laid her head down upon her Cousin's bed and tried to muffle the sounds of her sobbing. Of all the people to see her at one of the weakest moments of her life, she certainly didn't want the person entering to be one of them.

Gríma slowly appeared from outside the hallway and into the doorframe. He stayed silent for a moment, feeling empathy towards Éowyn, seeing her in such pain and sorrow. Again, Éowyn did not know that Gríma already knew of Théodred's death, so Gríma chose his words carefully, as he slowly entered the room.

"Oh, he…must have died, sometime during the night", he said with a sigh. "What a tragedy for the King to lose his only son and heir"… He sounded sad and surprised at Théoden's sudden death.

Éowyn slowly turned her head or directly looked upwards towards Gríma. Though he was always slick and sharp with his tongue, something about the words he had just spoken sounded so fake, as if he, Gríma, had never even bothered to hold on to any hope that there was a chance that Théodred could have survived.

Gríma was now by Éowyn's side, and he slowly sat down on the edge of Théodred's bed to try and comfort Éowyn. She was weak. She was vulnerable. She was more alone than ever now. If he were to have a chance, this would likely be it.

"I understand, his passing is hard to accept", he told her as he looked down at her with a look of deep concern in his eyes. He slowly placed his left hand on her right shoulder, and continued,

"Especially now, that your brother has deserted you". He looked at her with the same look of concern, but now it was laced with pity, too.

Once again, pushed to far, Éowyn had had it.

She quickly pushed herself up from the bed and stepping backwards, shouted, "Leave me alone, snake!", and glared at Gríma.

She glared at him for a few seconds and a smirk quickly emerged upon Gríma's face.

"But you are alone", he said in a deep, dark tone.

His words hit her harder than a thousand Elfish arrows, aimed all at once, right towards her heart. He saw it. He saw the reality of her word and he knew it, probably better than even Éowyn herself did. Gríma stood up and approached her.

As much as Éowyn wanted to get away from him, if she continued backwards, she would be cornered by him, which isn't exactly the ideal situation anyone would want to be in with Gríma. She was, however, still afraid, and very much so. It was obvious by her deep breaths and how wide her eyes were. She could forget about trying to hide her weaknesses or fears now, as they were all out and on the table of Gríma's wise observations.

He looked at her and with a smirk, continued to reveal his observations about Éowyn to her. "Who knows what you've spoken to the darkness, in bitter watches of the night?"

Éowyn stayed as still as a statue as she took in Gríma's words. He slowly and circled her very closely as he continued. "When all your life seems to shrink. The walls of your bower closing in about you. A hatch to trammel some wild thing".

He stopped speaking for a moment and looked at Éowyn. His eyes, full of both intimidation and desire for her. Hers, full of confusion and loneliness, but mainly confusion. Was he right? Had his observations of her really been this simple? She was complex but he had her boiled down to a simple since in his world. They looked at one another for what seemed like minutes, but was actually only a matter of a few seconds. Gríma spoke once more.

"So fair. So cold", he said softly, as he gently brushed her hair aside from her face with his left hand. He kept his hand on her cheek, and continued once more.

"Like a morning, pale Spring, still clinging to Winter's chill". And with those words, he was silent.

Éowyn shut her eyes gently, so desperate for some form of comfort, someone to reassure her that things would be okay in time. Someone to…be with, for she didn't want to be alone.

Gríma continued to hold his icy gaze upon Éowyn. His hand now slowly traveled down her neck, and he rest it upon her collar bone. Éowyn shivered at his touch. Never had anyone held nor touched her so intimately before. She looked at Gríma, his eyes still fixated on her. She looked down quickly as a single tear fell down her face. With his hand, he slowly brought her chin up, and wiped the tear away.

"I don't…I…I can't…", and without even able to construct nor finish her sentence, Éowyn dropped to the floor and fell down to her knees.

Gríma quickly went down to her aide. "What?" he asked. "What is it?".

Éowyn softly wiped away more tears from her face with the back of her hands. She didn't want to look Gríma in the eyes. But, he softly held her face with both of his hands, and slowly brought her face up to meet his. He spoke once more,

"What is it? I know what it is, Éowyn. But, if you want me to be able to help you, and be able to learn how to deal with your feelings instead of throwing them aside and tying them up in neat little boxes and storing them away in hopes that not opening the boxes will makes things right and your fairytale life will happen someday, you will have to admit it and say it for yourself", he said to her, his words were filled with comfort and compassion. At least, that's how they sounded to her.

She sighed and looked back up into Gríma's eyes, with tears, once again, pooling within hers.

"…I don't want to be alone", she finally admitted to him, followed with a heavy sigh. She said it so softly that if Gríma weren't but less than five paces away from her, no one would have been able to have heard her. But Gríma heard her perfectly clear.

And with those words, she once again hung her head in shame, weakness, sadness, and sorrow. Gríma sighed and felt his own heart begin to ache. He didn't want to see his beloved, dear Éowyn in such a sad, lonesome state. With his right hand he gently placed it under her chin and raised her face to meet his.

"Éowyn…you don't have to be alone. Not everyone in your life will desert you or abandoning you. …I would never leave you, my dear Lady, and that is a promise that I will hold true until the day I die", he said.

He spoke those words hesitantly, but entwined them with a sense of care and confidence. In reality, he spoke them simply with his own worries of the unknown. Would she ever love him? Would Éowyn ever come to love Gríma?

Gríma gently held Éowyn's face cupped in his hands, and the two stared deeply into each others eyes, trying to read what the other was thinking. Gríma knew exactly what Éowyn was thinking. Éowyn's thought's on what was going on inside Gríma's mind…she had no clue. But their eyes stayed locked on one another like a predator watches its prey, right before launching their attack.

Gríma tried to read Éowyn and what she wanted and desired. She wasn't speaking much, so it was difficult for him to tell what she wanted, if anything at all. He thought if he tried a small test and succeeded at that, then, he would have a pretty good and accurate idea of what she wanted. Not once breaking the embrace of their eyes, he still gently held her beautiful, angelic face in his hands. Éowyn didn't exactly smile, but the edges of her lips curled slightly upward. A small sign of comfort. Then, Gríma tried his test, hoping her reaction would be that of which he was hoping to receive.

Gríma slowly leaned closer to Éowyn, and gently rest is forehead on hers. She displayed a small, very faint smile, and placed her hands upon his. They stayed in this stance of half-embracement for a few moments, until Gríma pulled his head back and removed his hands from her face. Éowyn kept her hands held upon his, and he put one of his on top of hers, and gave it a gentle squeeze, in an effort to show her he cared and she wasn't alone. He, Gríma, was with her. He slowly brought the back her hand to his lips, and gave it a gentle kiss.

Éowyn was quite confused by now. But she pushed the thoughts that made her think aside, and focused on the one thing that mattered to her at this very moment: not being alone, and being with someone whom she believed did care about her.

Gríma could tell she was confused, and understandably so. The two of them were still sitting on the ground in Théodred's bedchambers. In an effort to turn, at least some, of Éowyn's confusion into comfort, Gríma inched himself away by about a foot, and took Éowyn's hand in his, once again. "I promise. I would never leave you, my dear", he said as he looked her straight in the eyes with the most sincere, genuine look on his face.

Gríma gently pulled Éowyn over to him, and she moved towards him without any hesitation at all. She gazed into his eyes, and he put a hand around her waist. While she kept her head up, her eyes dashed down for just a moment, but quickly returned upwards to meet Gríma's once again. He slowly turned her around, just slightly, and slowly pulled her backwards, onto his chest. She didn't object to this at all, and with that, Gríma ever so gently wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned back and took great comfort in knowing that she was no longer alone. Maybe it was a good thing that Gríma had watched and studied her for so long. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have been able to be here for her right at this very moment. And while his words earlier may have sounded a bit harsh, they were all full of the same thing: the truth, which is what Éowyn needed to hear. Perhaps having someone else put it to her so harshly and bluntly was what she needed. After all, she had grown very tired of having to constantly lie, put on fake smiles and fake laughs, and pretend to be the exact opposites of what she was not: happy and fearless. For, until now, she was far from happy. She was miserable, feeling like a prisoner in her own Kingdom. And now that an outsider, particularly Gríma, knew that she had much fear locked up inside, and that too, was now out in the open…It was a relief, if anything.

Gríma himself said but not one night before, "If you would like to talk…please do not hesitate to approach me and take up my offer. I only want to help you and make you happy again".

Back in Théodred's room, Éowyn still lay back upon Gríma's chest. His arms, encircled around her tiny waist. She looked up at him, and he looked down at her. They both let a smile appear on their faces. Éowyn laid her head on Gríma's chest, facing towards him, and said, "Thank you, Lord Counsellor".

"For what may I ask, my Lady?" he asked with a puzzled tone in his voice.

"For not leaving me. For not letting me be or feel alone anymore. For saying the things that I needed to hear for years but did not want to hear", she replied.

"I am sorry that I had to say them so harshly and…without any sense of compassion. I was wrong", he said in a regretful voice.

"No, you weren't wrong at all. I needed someone to tell me that for such a long time. Yes, people always tried to say it to me, but it was always covered in sweetness and lies. I could see right though it and it certainly wasn't genuine. It only made be believe that they were saying these things to me because they felt obligated to, not because they wanted to or because that's how the truly felt in their hearts", she said.

"Well, for once you're the one who's left me a bit confused", he said, and they both let out a small laugh.

"I think it's been a very confusing time for all of us", she said as she looked at Gríma.

"The best cure for confusion is a bit of fun and relaxation", Gríma replied.

Éowyn looked up at the bed upon which laid Théodred. "Well, there's not much fun that will happening in here. My cousin…he's gone. How I miss the times we used to share together. The fun we had when we were just children".

Gríma nodded his head in agreement. He then stood up, extending a hand to Éowyn, and helped her up back on her feet.

"I can see there is still much on your mind my dear. Are you willing to talk about the rest of what troubles you yet?", asked Gríma.

Éowyn shut her eyes at the pain that talking would bring to her.

"I'm sorry, but I'm just not ready. Not yet, at least. But when I am, I will come to you. I have faith that you will not only listen closely but be able to be of help, too", she replied.

"Understandable, my Lady", Gríma said.

"It will be at least another two hours or so before the servants and cooks call for the next meal of the day, and I must return to the Library and get to work", Gríma slowly said, hoping that Éowyn would ask him not to go, but to stay, something of that matter. He wanted to be with her but she had to be the one to ask him to be with her. Luck was with Gríma at that moment.

Glancing around the room, she quickly asked Gríma, "…Must you go now? We certainly shouldn't stay here but there's plenty of places we could go and enjoy one another's company. Our rooms would be fit, I suppose", she said, with a tiny smirk on her face and a glimmer of hope in her eye that Gríma would change his mind and say yes to Éowyn's request.

Standing there, so beautiful, so innocent, so pure. How could anyone, let alone Gríma, say no to her?

"Well, I suppose I could put my work on hold. It's only minor business anyway, nothing that can't wait a few more hours or even another day, if need be", he said with a small smirk on his face.

Éowyn looked at Gríma and smiled. He returned the gesture, and the two quickly walked up the stairs that lead down to the Great Hall.

Once they reached the top of the stairs, Gríma asked, "To where should we go, my Lady"? She thought for a moment and a tiny smile with a hint of what one would almost mistake for evil appeared on her face.

"Well, Lord Counsellor. You've seen my rooms and my bedchambers, but I don't believe I've ever had the chance to see yours before…You can't blame a young lady for being the slightest bit curious, can you?", she said with that same semi-devious look on her face.

Was this the same Éowyn I knew yesterday? Gríma thought to himself. This is almost becoming a game to her; One which she seems to be enjoying. This, was certainly not disappointing to Gríma in the least.

He smiled and said, "Well, you'd be correct. If you must see, then I will happily escort you to my rooms so you may have a look around. After all, it's only fair".

"Which way is it to your rooms, Lord Counsellor?", Éowyn asked.

Gríma took her by the hands. "Come, I'll show you".

He lead her down a semi-long, winding corridor, and then stopped. He opened the door, and said, "Welcome, to my spaces, my dear". Éowyn entered behind Grima, and as soon as the two were inside Gríma's rooms, the door closed shut.