She has heard it, in passing - enough to know that he is far from home, if not quite so far as she is. Not enough to have much stronger association with the name than that.
He steps out of the shadow, and she looks up at him - farther up, in truth, than she is used to looking at anyone; this is the kind of craning she associates exclusively with dealing with men on horseback - with that same assessing, hostile stare. After a moment, though, she inclines her head a little in turn.
"Éowyn. Daughter of Éomund, who was Chief Marshal of the Mark." The use of surnames in these realms is another thing she still has difficulty adapting to; there are no such Houses in Rohan, after all. The nearest thing they have is kennings, and while she might have introduced herself as the Lady of the Shield-Arm once or twice when she first arrived, she has quickly decided that it isn't worth it. Unfortunately, that puts her in the position of having to decide, with each introduction, how much of her lineage to say aloud, when it is entirely unrecognised here.
This does not improve her mood.
She shakes her hair back from her face, wincing only a little at how it disturbs her swollen shoulder, and lets out a low sigh. She approached him, she reminds herself. Despite the impulse to bridle at his seeming scorn, it does her no good to be less than polite.
"...You fought well. Far better than I would have expected, in such an empty game."
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sforzinda
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Date: 2023-11-21 02:47 am (UTC)He steps out of the shadow, and she looks up at him - farther up, in truth, than she is used to looking at anyone; this is the kind of craning she associates exclusively with dealing with men on horseback - with that same assessing, hostile stare. After a moment, though, she inclines her head a little in turn.
"Éowyn. Daughter of Éomund, who was Chief Marshal of the Mark." The use of surnames in these realms is another thing she still has difficulty adapting to; there are no such Houses in Rohan, after all. The nearest thing they have is kennings, and while she might have introduced herself as the Lady of the Shield-Arm once or twice when she first arrived, she has quickly decided that it isn't worth it. Unfortunately, that puts her in the position of having to decide, with each introduction, how much of her lineage to say aloud, when it is entirely unrecognised here.
This does not improve her mood.
She shakes her hair back from her face, wincing only a little at how it disturbs her swollen shoulder, and lets out a low sigh. She approached him, she reminds herself. Despite the impulse to bridle at his seeming scorn, it does her no good to be less than polite.
"...You fought well. Far better than I would have expected, in such an empty game."