Steven looks different, dressed as a man of Rohan, but he still sticks out like a sore thumb among the throng of men with long hair and full beards. She cannot understand why he shaves his face so closely, surely it is an inconvenience to have to bother with such an ablution every single morning? Her uncle sometimes shaves part of his beard, and she remembers sitting near him as a small child, watching him drag the blade over his face, fascinated and confused.

After conferring with her family, and enlisting their help in shielding their new visitor from too much scrutiny at the hands of the Worm, she straightens to her full height and walks down the tables towards where Steven is sat. As niece of the king, she is afforded a place at the table with the rest of her family, but more often than not, Éomer chooses to sit with the rest of her éored, as she considers herself a soldier first and royalty second.

Clapping Steven on the back as she reaches him, she says something to the men on either side and one of them moves down the bench so she can gather up her irritating skirts and sit down.

"I see you've made yourself right at home," she says with a laugh as she pushes up her trailing sleeves, exposing the scrolling knotwork of ink that has been etched under her skin marking her as a warrior, so she can reach across the table and serve herself some food.