"I am," Éowyn allowed, her smile fading a little, and reached over to pick up one of the little white flowers, toying with it thoughtfully. "It can be no more than two days since I was home in Emyn Arnen, beside my husband, thinking that at last our fates might have swung towards peace." Sighing, she looked down at the flower in her hand. It wasn't one of the ones she knew, after all. This flower was bigger, with more serrated leaves. Another strange thing.

"I suppose," she said after a moment, rather ruefully, "that it was a callow kind of hope, after all. Peace sits ill for those such as I." Putting the flower back down, she shook her head and looked back at Anna, forcing a smile. "Éowyn I am, Éomund's daughter. We are well met, my lady. Well met indeed."