A/N: Éomer for the win. Always.


**BV**

Éowyn stood beside her brother, watching their guests ride away a final time. A brisk wind arose, unusual for that part of the summer, and the woman shivered. Éomer draped a casual arm about his sister's shoulders and tugged her against his side.

"And what thoughts have you so preoccupied?" His voice rumbled deep in his chest. "Planning your future wedding?"

The White Lady shook her head. "Will we ever see them again, I wonder? The halflings," she clarified

"I do not know. Perhaps, in years to come, they shall return here. I suspect they have much to undertake in their own lands, first. Some halfling maidens to charm, I doubt not."

"Indeed."

The siblings leaned against one another in silence for a few minutes more, until the figures of horsemen galloping way across the plains faded to nothing. "Come," Éomer said at last. "There are friends and guests enough still in Edoras to merit our concern, the departed notwithstanding. Have you yet made the acquaintance of the Queen Arwen Evenstar?"

"We spoke, briefly, yester-eve."

"Well, then." The King of the Mark turned, towing his sister back towards the doors of the great hall. "Allow me to introduce you properly."

"I am not sure that now would be the best moment," Éowyn demurred. "Should we not allow her some privacy, since she has recently parted from her kinsfolk?"

But her brother would not be dissuaded. "If she is present with the other guests, I am sure that she would be glad to speak with you."

I very much doubt that, Éowyn thought, mildly hysterical, as she let him pull her inside and lead her across the smoky hall to where the Queen sat, conversing with Faramir and Imrahil. I very much doubt that.