A/N: Mmf. Short, I know, but it's really an excuse for some Eowyn/Faramir fluffiness before we get to the real plot. Eep…have just realized that I used the name of Éowyn and Éomer's mother for Éomer's bride-to-be…oh well, perhaps it's a common name. Reviewsies!

Chapter Three: Loneliness

I couldn't sleep that night.

I knew it would have happened eventually, and it might even grant me some measure of freedom that I did not have now. But I still could not sleep. Éomer was to wed, and I was alone again.

I tried to drive back the loneliness, but it filled my throat, threatening to smother me. I pulled a dress on over my shift and reached for the hair-clasp almost without thinking. Out to the walls I went, to walk and think, and perhaps convince myself that loneliness was better then a cage imposed by a husband.

Except Faramir. I did not think he would cage me… I pushed the unbidden thought away. Why would he want me, a wild shieldmaiden? My cause was hopeless, and I would do well to put him out of my mind. Yet I could not quite convince myself…

"My lady?"

I jumped, and spun, memories of Wormtongue surging to the front of my mind…but it was not him, it was Faramir, concern in his gentle gray eyes. I put a hand to my heart. "My lord. You startled me."

"Forgive me. I meant no harm." He bowed, and I resisted the urge to touch his tousled hair. "Why are you still awake?"

"I could not sleep," I said, inanely stating the obvious. Mentally cursing myself, I continued, "I…I am lonely, that's all, and loneliness often keeps one up at night."

"I know," he said, softly, his eyes darkening with an old sorrow. "But you have your brother, my lady…why are you lonely?"

I swallowed back tears. "Éomer is to wed. Your cousin, I think…Lothiriel. She is sweet and lovely, and everything I could wish for in a bride for him, but…" my voice sank to a whisper, "but I am afraid that once he weds her, he will have no more time for me." I felt a single tear escape my eye and slide down my cheek. What he must think of me, putting my happiness before my brother's! I bent my head in shame.

Faramir made an abortive movement, then reached forward and took my hand. "Believe me, Éowyn," he said, his voice low and intense, "when I say that I will always have time for you. If you call, I will come."

I looked at our joined hands, drowning in the feeling of his warm, gentle hand on mine, and could not speak.

Abruptly, he dropped my hand, and shook his head. "I am sorry, my lady," he said, "but I fear the ride took more out of me than I knew. I must return to my bed."

"And I," I managed, still amazed. "Good night, my lord."

"Good night, my lady." He left, pausing once at the top of the stairs to look at me, an unreadable expression on his face.

I remained on the wall, unable to move, amazed and jubilant, for not only had he touched me, he had spoken my name, in the quiet, reverent tone he had before reserved for his king.

He had spoken my name.