- - - Éowyn - - -
I led the odd looking girl down the hallways to a room where I could heal her in private. It looked like she had been stuck in the side with an arrow. It went in pretty deep; a good shot. I wondered who would have done this to her. I didn't hesitate to ask.
She smirked in a way that suggested it was funny in an ironic sort of way. "It was a combination of Legolas and Gandalf." I left it at that; she looked too tired to explain the whole thing to me. Then I noticed some old looking scars on her wrists. They looked like they had been deep cuts. I was about to question her on that too but then the person I least expected walked in.
"Lord Aragorn!" I cried, smoothing my hair and skirt.
"My Lady," he said, nodding deeply. I watched him walk over to the bed and sink down onto it along with the girl. "How is it, Grace?" It? Almost as if he didn't have to acknowledge that she was injured. Just ask how It was. She shrugged.
She looked like someone who had lost quite a bit of weight in a short time. But not from being starved. From being active. Under her eyes, which were grey from what I could tell, it was shadowed. She hadn't been getting enough sleep.
I cleared my throat to let them know I was still in the room. Both of them looked up quickly. They looked at me in surprise.
"We will come again to see you," Aragorn said.
Grace nodded and he clasped her hand quickly before turning and leaving the room. In her eyes, there was nothing but admiration for this man. I probably looked much the same. On a small table, I had set a bowl of steaming water with healing herbs in it. I picked up a cloth and dipped it in the water. Gently, I set it on the gash in her side.
I heard her take in a breath and slowly let it out. I looked up. She had been studying me. I permitted a small smile to help her relax. Grace's face immediately broke into a smile. I was surprised to see how much prettier she looked when she smiled. Like a weight had lifted off her shoulders. I finished bathing her wound and wrapped her stomach with bandages. Giving her a light, cotton nightgown to wear, I turned to leave.
"Wait, Éowyn," she said. I turned to look at her. Again she smiled. "Thank you."
- - - Gimli - - -
Legolas, Aragorn and I entered the lass' room quietly. We dwarves are known for our ability to be silent, you know. But it seemed we didn't have to worry about waking Grace up. She seemed to be sleeping very deeply. I had never seen anyone be able to sleep while thrashing about so much. Her teeth were gritted and her chest was heaving. Poor lass.
"Please, just go," she cried out suddenly. Our first thought was that she was speaking to us. We all stopped moving and waited. "Why do you do this to me? I have done nothing to you! Let me be!" Her voice sounded raw.
I shared a quizzical look with the elf; perhaps the girl was insane? Aragorn certainly didn't seem to think so. He had rushed forward and now sat on the edge of Grace's bed, stroking her hair, muttering her name and trying to wake her.
"What happened?" She started to talk again. "Why didn't it work? Why can't I just get out? It should have worked!"
Both Legolas and I had taken several steps forward and were close to her now. I touched her forehead, trying to calm her. It was incredibly hot. The elf's eyes searched her face, trying to figure out what she was talking about.
"Grace," Aragorn whispered urgently. "Grace, you have to wake up." Why whisper if you're trying to wake someone?
"I can't tell them. They can't know! They don't understand, no one does! No one could! I needed to escape! I couldn't take it anymore. I did it!" Her voice rose to a breaking point. "I did it! I killed myself!"
"Grace!" said Aragorn, more sharply than I'd ever heard him speak to her. Her eyes snapped open. She sat up swiftly and right into Aragorn's embrace. She squeezed her eyes shut as he held her. Like she was trying to block out the memories. Slowly he let her go and she unwrapped her arms from around his neck. She took a shaky breath.
"Grace?" Legolas questioned. "Are you alright?" She nodded, stopped and thought for a second. Then she shook her head. Poor lass, I told you she was a little bit unstable.
"You were yelling," Legolas reminded her. "Something about having to escape and how no one could understand. Then - then you said you killed yourself." Thick elf. Why couldn't he see, she was mad? I had noticed this and thought that it was her eccentricity showing through.
- - - Legolas - - -
She looked up hastily after I said that. I knew something was amiss. Her eyes looked at Aragorn almost pleadingly. She wanted help to get out of this. I had long suspected they had shared some secret. With secrets, there was no trust. With no trust, there was no Fellowship. I needed to know. For the good of Fellowship.
"Grace, what did you mean?"
"Nothing," she said, a bit too quickly. She knew I knew she was lying to us. I searched her eyes. She started defiantly back at me. In her eyes, I saw many things. A desire to prove herself to us. A fear of the future. A pain from the past. An admiration for Aragorn and - to my astonishment - me. A fondness of Gimli and his dwarfish ways. A need to understand why she was here. And deeper down, a shame of herself.
Much of it made no sense to me. I knew she wouldn't tell us until she was ready. I did not know the reason, but it hurt me greatly to think that this girl thought she could not trust me. Sighing, I turned to leave the room. Gimli stared after me. I motioned for him to follow. As soon as we shut the door, I heard Aragorn say, "Grace, they have a right to know."
- - - Grace - - -
I shook my head. No they don't! I wanted to scream. I wondered what all I had said and how much they knew. I really wanted to know.
"What did I say?" I asked quietly.
"You asked why it didn't work. Saying you couldn't tell us. That we could not understand. That no one could…" He trailed off. "I barely understood. By the looks Gimli was giving you, you'd think you were utterly insane."
I laughed weakly. Maybe he was right. Maybe they should know. But maybe he should know too. "You - you don't know all of it, do you?" I asked him. He shook his head, as I had expected. "I was never wanted in my family." I started slowly. "My parents told me almost everyday how much of a burden I was to them. And how ungrateful I was."
I chanced a look at Aragorn and I saw he had a disbelieving look on his face. Maybe this kind of thing didn't happen often in Middle-earth. I tried to continue with my story. "I had no one to turn to. We had moved several times so I didn't try to get close to anyone. There was no one there to listen to me when I needed someone. Everyone my own age hated me for some unknown reason. I hadn't done anything to provoke them."
"Then, one day, some girls cornered me. There was about six of them. They attacked me and left physical scars as well as mental ones." I moved the blankets and showed Aragorn a long scar on my leg. "I tried to escape several ways. Drugs, alcohol, music. Nothing helped me. I finally tried to end my life. That's how I ended up here."
By this time tears were coursing freely down my face. I suddenly felt foolish for wanting to unload my problems on someone else. I covered my face with my hands and wept. It was only a second before I felt Aragorn's hand on my shoulder. I took my hands away from my face and he hugged me hard. At least he knew. He might not understand, but he could sympathise. It was at that moment that I realized that Aragorn was more like the brother he had pretended to be to me than anything else. I was over the phase of aspiring to have him be something more than a brother-figure. I had closed the door on another part of my life.
"We leave tomorrow for Helm's Deep. That's the only place we can be safe," he told me.
I nodded to him and said the only thing I could, "Thank you so much."
(A/N: Awww, poor Leggy! BALEETED! Anyways, keep Reviewing; I got some sweet ones after I was all down 'cause of flaming. Yay! Nice, nice people!)