"You were not summoned," said Éowyn from her chambers, in a voice cold and clear. "Enter and make your business known."

Gríma stepped into the room, his eyes glinting about. "Does my Lady well this morn?" he sniveled. "Alas, how the poor King would sorrow to hear you. It would be a sore grievance to the people were his death hastened by rash words of his own sister-daughter. Into such an ordeal we should be plunged! For you know that Théoden King has not yet named his heir. When your brother's foolish doings reach his ear, there will be few left. Indeed only one remains, and she would need a faithful advisor very dearly," he hissed, ever quieter and nearer. "I should consider it, were a bond between the lovely queen and myself of unquestionable legitimacy.""

"The deference of your position is somewhat lessened of late, Gríma Wormtongue. Have you forgotten that Lord Théoden yet lives? Far too much freedom have you been given, and I feel that the House of Eorl will rue it ere an end comes. But there is one member of this household that does not bow to your lies yet." Thus spoke Éowyn, and not for the first time, for many a month had Wormtongue shadowed her footsteps. She stood tall, and made apparent why she was revered and called the White Lady, for it seemed that she shone with a light, cold and pale as ice. She strode to the door with footsteps as solid as a warrior's, and a face as strong. "Do not tempt me with your perverse words, you leech of life! I would die a thousand deaths before I disgraced my house with such filth!"

"Mercy, my Lady. Do not bring judgment on Gríma, for he shall not forsake Edoras, nor any of its treasures," he simpered. "Let me return to my duties as counsellor, with wishes for my Lady's improved health."

It seemed to Éowyn that hope grew ever lower, and she fervently longed for rescue but dared not put trust in it. Her eyes grew dim as though eclipsed by some foul reflection. She did not behold her brother Éomer striding towards her chambers, for he saw much, and had witnessed the extrusion of the advisor. She started as he came upon her with a piercing gaze. "What loathsome words have you met with from the foul-tongued Gríma? Tell me, for I have watched his visits here with growing abhorrence for many weeks. Sister, I beg you, unburden your heart, for I see how it grows heavy of late, and it pains me to stand by as the members of this house fall into such lamentation," he spoke earnestly, beseeching her with his eyes.

"Nay, Éomer, there is nothing needing recurrence, though I trust you with more steadfastness than I place in any other thing," she said. But her eyes did not linger on his, and he perceived her unhappiness and guessed the cause.