Third chapter... and I tried to make it longer just for you, Sythrona! :) And no, Vereena, I didn't get the Freudian connection but it is hysterical! And highly appropriate!
* * * *
Eowyn woke with a start, reaching instinctively for her small dagger to ward off the unspeakable horrors of her dream. A tense moment passed before she realized where she was, in her own chamber, sitting in her wildly disarrayed bed. She put a hand to her pounding heart and forced herself to calm down. The room was cloaked in darkness except for a thin, hesitant ray of moonlight peeking in through the heavy velvet curtains. Decisively, Eowyn rose from the bed, untangling her legs in the white sheets and hurried to the carved wooden door. She opened it, and walked quickly down the dark hallway, marveling at the utter silence of the night.
Only the soft padding of her bare feet on stone was audible as she made her way outside. Reaching to push open the heavy wooden door, she noticed her hand was still trembling slightly from the aftermath of the dream and frowned. Willing it still, she opened the door and was greeted with the fresh, cold air of the night.
Breathing it in deeply, Eowyn made her way farther out, enjoying the silence and fresh smell of pine. She realized suddenly how long it had been since she had been alone like this. Tilting her head up toward the sky, she smiled softly as the cool wind caressed her face and gently played with the strands of her hair. Her body relaxed suddenly, the terrible dream fading, at least temporarily, into the recesses of her mind.
She did not know how long she stood thus, her eyes closed, lost in the enjoyment of the still night. If he made any noise as he approached her, Eowyn was quite unaware of it.
"Good evening, my lady." A familiar voice uttered, its tone slightly raspy.
She jumped and whirled to the sound, pushing the wayward locks of hair out of her eyes. "You," She almost hissed, "What are you doing here?" Her voice and flashing eyes clearly expressed her unspoken distaste.
"I did not expect to find anyone here, my lady." Grima answered, "I often come here at night. The more interesting question, if I may inquire, is what brings your ladyship here?"
By the dim light of the moon, Eowyn saw his eyes slowly survey her, no doubt noticing her bare feet and thin chemise. When his gaze finally returned to her face she fancied she saw amusement as well as a more powerful emotion lurking there. She stiffened at both his look and his question and turned resolutely away from him, staring out toward the dark mountainous landscape.
He smiled a strange little half-smile at her back before taking a step closer. "Was it perhaps a dream that drove my lady out alone so late at night?"
Eowyn breathed in sharply at this, her slim fingers toying with the delicate ring on her right hand. She continued to look out at the countryside, giving no other sign she had taken any notice of his words. Grima's eyes roved over her back and then he took another step closer to her.
"Perhaps you could confide in me. Imagined fears soon disappear if they are shared." He leaned forward slightly so he could just catch a glimpse of her delicate profile. It seemed as cold, calm, and unapproachable as the moon itself that now shone down on them. But he knew better.
"Something has clearly upset you. Can you not tell me of it, Lady Eowyn?" His voice coaxed her gently, her name on his lips sounded like a prayer, something too delicate and cherished for everyday use.
Resentment flared within her at his constant questioning and obvious ability to read her so completely, but mostly at the temptation she suddenly felt to actually talk to him of her nightmare. The need to tell her dream weighed heavily on her; she turned to him quickly, opening her mouth to explain the terror of it. Seeing his dark watchful eyes brought her back to herself with a thud. She pressed her lips firmly together in a mutinous line and shook her head tightly.
"I must return inside." She stated firmly, her chin tilted upwards slightly as if in defiance.
He looked at her inquiringly.
"I am cold." Eowyn added, a faint trace of despair creeping into her stern voice. She turned on her heel sharply and departed.
"Cold." Grima mused after she had disappeared. "Cold." He repeated bitterly, his jaw tightening. "We must find a way to warm you, Lady Eowyn."
* * * *
Eowyn woke with a start, reaching instinctively for her small dagger to ward off the unspeakable horrors of her dream. A tense moment passed before she realized where she was, in her own chamber, sitting in her wildly disarrayed bed. She put a hand to her pounding heart and forced herself to calm down. The room was cloaked in darkness except for a thin, hesitant ray of moonlight peeking in through the heavy velvet curtains. Decisively, Eowyn rose from the bed, untangling her legs in the white sheets and hurried to the carved wooden door. She opened it, and walked quickly down the dark hallway, marveling at the utter silence of the night.
Only the soft padding of her bare feet on stone was audible as she made her way outside. Reaching to push open the heavy wooden door, she noticed her hand was still trembling slightly from the aftermath of the dream and frowned. Willing it still, she opened the door and was greeted with the fresh, cold air of the night.
Breathing it in deeply, Eowyn made her way farther out, enjoying the silence and fresh smell of pine. She realized suddenly how long it had been since she had been alone like this. Tilting her head up toward the sky, she smiled softly as the cool wind caressed her face and gently played with the strands of her hair. Her body relaxed suddenly, the terrible dream fading, at least temporarily, into the recesses of her mind.
She did not know how long she stood thus, her eyes closed, lost in the enjoyment of the still night. If he made any noise as he approached her, Eowyn was quite unaware of it.
"Good evening, my lady." A familiar voice uttered, its tone slightly raspy.
She jumped and whirled to the sound, pushing the wayward locks of hair out of her eyes. "You," She almost hissed, "What are you doing here?" Her voice and flashing eyes clearly expressed her unspoken distaste.
"I did not expect to find anyone here, my lady." Grima answered, "I often come here at night. The more interesting question, if I may inquire, is what brings your ladyship here?"
By the dim light of the moon, Eowyn saw his eyes slowly survey her, no doubt noticing her bare feet and thin chemise. When his gaze finally returned to her face she fancied she saw amusement as well as a more powerful emotion lurking there. She stiffened at both his look and his question and turned resolutely away from him, staring out toward the dark mountainous landscape.
He smiled a strange little half-smile at her back before taking a step closer. "Was it perhaps a dream that drove my lady out alone so late at night?"
Eowyn breathed in sharply at this, her slim fingers toying with the delicate ring on her right hand. She continued to look out at the countryside, giving no other sign she had taken any notice of his words. Grima's eyes roved over her back and then he took another step closer to her.
"Perhaps you could confide in me. Imagined fears soon disappear if they are shared." He leaned forward slightly so he could just catch a glimpse of her delicate profile. It seemed as cold, calm, and unapproachable as the moon itself that now shone down on them. But he knew better.
"Something has clearly upset you. Can you not tell me of it, Lady Eowyn?" His voice coaxed her gently, her name on his lips sounded like a prayer, something too delicate and cherished for everyday use.
Resentment flared within her at his constant questioning and obvious ability to read her so completely, but mostly at the temptation she suddenly felt to actually talk to him of her nightmare. The need to tell her dream weighed heavily on her; she turned to him quickly, opening her mouth to explain the terror of it. Seeing his dark watchful eyes brought her back to herself with a thud. She pressed her lips firmly together in a mutinous line and shook her head tightly.
"I must return inside." She stated firmly, her chin tilted upwards slightly as if in defiance.
He looked at her inquiringly.
"I am cold." Eowyn added, a faint trace of despair creeping into her stern voice. She turned on her heel sharply and departed.
"Cold." Grima mused after she had disappeared. "Cold." He repeated bitterly, his jaw tightening. "We must find a way to warm you, Lady Eowyn."
