Still a little caught up in her own befuddlement over the impromptu gift, Èowyn can only give a small, helpless smile before gingerly starting to unravel the parcel. The plain, protective cloth falls away easily and suddenly, Èowyn is left holding an armful of the softest, midnight blue velvet that unfurls with dramatic flourish, spilling down to the floor from her grasp. She gasps sharply at the sight of it, the silver stars embroidered onto the mantle gleaming as if set there by the Lady Starkindler herself. Èowyn is struck speechless by its loveliness, the soft, luxurious weight of it.

It's altogether a queenly raiment, and she cannot wrap her head around the fact that Faramir is giving it to her.

"This is... lovely, and far too fine a thing. I--" she stammers, much to her chagrin. But surely, this is just a loan. He can't possibly mean to gift something this extravagant to her, a mere guest?