She knew that feeling. Hearing it said so abruptly, though, brought a sick twist of guilt and dread. Had she really broken loose of all that time spent stifling in Théoden's court, only to stifle here instead? And was it not cruel of her, knowing that, to be so harsh to those she met here?

For a moment, her hands stilled, and she lowered the woven flowers into her lap, biting down on the inside of her cheek to force back the sudden, wild urge to scream or cry. "...I suppose it is," she said at last, picking up her work again. Weaving tapestries in Edoras. Weaving flowers here. Does it never end? "And, at the very least, it is a place of great wonder, such as I could scarcely have imagined. But I must ask... are there at least some parklands, some fields, where we can go? Even a garden?" She smiled a little, sadly and a bit self-consciously. "I need to see the sky."