Eowyn rushed back to her room, back to the comfort of the night. She
wept for the first time in many long years. Somehow, she knew she would
have to stand up and fight; find a way to escape.
Alia knocked on her door, the sweet voice calling timidly in to her.
Eowyn let her in, and saw Fara and Elise behind her. She allowed them both
into the room. Once Eowyn was seated comfortably on the bed and the girls
on the rug, Eowyn commenced her weeping once more. The girls looked
concerned, and turned to one another.
"My Lady," Fara began lightly, "We wish to help you."
"Yes," Alia mirrored, "You have been very kind to us." Eowyn looked up from the tearstained pillow, looked into each face. Their eyes shone brightly with sadness.
"Who are you? Where did you come from?" She asked them. Elise was the first to answer.
"We do not remember, Lady Eowyn. It is not our place to remember. We have been put under a spell; that we are sure of. But, we do not with the same fate to come to you. That is why we wish to help you." They spoke slowly, their sweet voices echoing throughout the chamber. She was sure that Grima could hear the echoes.
"Is he listening?" Eowyn glanced at the heavy wooden door.
Alia shook her head, blonde curls bobbing, "No. The pale one has retired. Now is the time to make plans; while he sleeps."
Fara spoke up. Her voice, just like her hair, was feisty, "I do not think that he sleeps now. There was too much sorrow in his eyes. He loves you yet, I think, my Lady." The other girls nodded in agreement. Eowyn was baffled as she watched them. Their movements and voices; dreamlike and peaceful. They wore dark green dresses that matched the other house servants, but each wore a white silk sash. The sash bound them together; three of her slaves. She'd never owned a slave, let alone three. It pained her heart to think that she was in control of them.
"Elise, Fara, Alia," she spoke softly, and the faintest smile appeared on the girl's lips as she said their names, "thank you for your offers of help. But what can you do for me?"
Elise's smile was almost wicked, but her eyes contradicted the grin. They were the eyes of an innocent child.
"Leave that to us, my Lady. Get some rest."
Grima let his tormented mind go blank. He envisioned the blackness closing in about him, taking away his pain and longing. But it could never be; for as long as she was there with him, he would always be in pain. 'She will not have me,' he thought bitterly, 'what have I done wrong? I have given her all her heart has ever wanted, but she will not even look at me.' He turned to the mirror and looked it over. His eyes had turned again, and as they stared back at him they seemed to darken still. That happened to him when his mood changed, and it was as natural as the tide. But to others, it was a frightening thing. Witchcraft, they had called it in his youth, and devilry they had called it as of late. He swept back the strands of raven hair, tucked it behind his pallid ears. A knock on the door startled him. He jumped, hitting the mirror and sending it to the floor with a crash. The shards of glass scattered, just as the jewels his beloved had strewn. He shook the thought from his head. One of Eowyn's maidens entered. She looked worried at the sight of the glass. She was small, blonde, with tiny features. Like a pixie.
"I will see to the mess, my Lord. Have you cut yourself?" She crossed the room, placed her hand upon his. Inspecting it closely, she didn't see any sign of a cut. Grima stared at her, and he imagined that in the moonlight, she almost looked like a younger Eowyn. Almost. He pulled his hand away.
"Thank you. See to the glass, please." She picked it up by hand, her delicate fingers picking up each piece. She smiled at him briefly before exiting his chambers. The odd encounter left Grima a little apprehensive. They were young, and he had no interest in girls of their age. Grima wasn't a lustful man, had never been. There hadn't been a single woman in his life that could evoke the raw feeling he felt for Eowyn. An occasional woman had presented herself in return for money or privilege; one turn for another. He'd taken advantage of only one of those woman. Though she was quite a bit older and more haggard, he thought he saw the same blue eyes of Eowyn. Of course, when they were through, the woman had left him, taking the gold away with her along with the desire he felt for any woman but Eowyn. Little did he know that this desire was destined to return to him. Soon.
"My Lady," Fara began lightly, "We wish to help you."
"Yes," Alia mirrored, "You have been very kind to us." Eowyn looked up from the tearstained pillow, looked into each face. Their eyes shone brightly with sadness.
"Who are you? Where did you come from?" She asked them. Elise was the first to answer.
"We do not remember, Lady Eowyn. It is not our place to remember. We have been put under a spell; that we are sure of. But, we do not with the same fate to come to you. That is why we wish to help you." They spoke slowly, their sweet voices echoing throughout the chamber. She was sure that Grima could hear the echoes.
"Is he listening?" Eowyn glanced at the heavy wooden door.
Alia shook her head, blonde curls bobbing, "No. The pale one has retired. Now is the time to make plans; while he sleeps."
Fara spoke up. Her voice, just like her hair, was feisty, "I do not think that he sleeps now. There was too much sorrow in his eyes. He loves you yet, I think, my Lady." The other girls nodded in agreement. Eowyn was baffled as she watched them. Their movements and voices; dreamlike and peaceful. They wore dark green dresses that matched the other house servants, but each wore a white silk sash. The sash bound them together; three of her slaves. She'd never owned a slave, let alone three. It pained her heart to think that she was in control of them.
"Elise, Fara, Alia," she spoke softly, and the faintest smile appeared on the girl's lips as she said their names, "thank you for your offers of help. But what can you do for me?"
Elise's smile was almost wicked, but her eyes contradicted the grin. They were the eyes of an innocent child.
"Leave that to us, my Lady. Get some rest."
Grima let his tormented mind go blank. He envisioned the blackness closing in about him, taking away his pain and longing. But it could never be; for as long as she was there with him, he would always be in pain. 'She will not have me,' he thought bitterly, 'what have I done wrong? I have given her all her heart has ever wanted, but she will not even look at me.' He turned to the mirror and looked it over. His eyes had turned again, and as they stared back at him they seemed to darken still. That happened to him when his mood changed, and it was as natural as the tide. But to others, it was a frightening thing. Witchcraft, they had called it in his youth, and devilry they had called it as of late. He swept back the strands of raven hair, tucked it behind his pallid ears. A knock on the door startled him. He jumped, hitting the mirror and sending it to the floor with a crash. The shards of glass scattered, just as the jewels his beloved had strewn. He shook the thought from his head. One of Eowyn's maidens entered. She looked worried at the sight of the glass. She was small, blonde, with tiny features. Like a pixie.
"I will see to the mess, my Lord. Have you cut yourself?" She crossed the room, placed her hand upon his. Inspecting it closely, she didn't see any sign of a cut. Grima stared at her, and he imagined that in the moonlight, she almost looked like a younger Eowyn. Almost. He pulled his hand away.
"Thank you. See to the glass, please." She picked it up by hand, her delicate fingers picking up each piece. She smiled at him briefly before exiting his chambers. The odd encounter left Grima a little apprehensive. They were young, and he had no interest in girls of their age. Grima wasn't a lustful man, had never been. There hadn't been a single woman in his life that could evoke the raw feeling he felt for Eowyn. An occasional woman had presented herself in return for money or privilege; one turn for another. He'd taken advantage of only one of those woman. Though she was quite a bit older and more haggard, he thought he saw the same blue eyes of Eowyn. Of course, when they were through, the woman had left him, taking the gold away with her along with the desire he felt for any woman but Eowyn. Little did he know that this desire was destined to return to him. Soon.
