A/N: Oh. My. Goodness. Gracious.

What have I done!

I have kept all you good people waiting for the next chapter!

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

Well, a lot of things, really…

Anyway.

I'm so…so…so…so…sorry…I had completely given up on this story…And I am quite embarrassed about it now, actually…But I still like it, so you know what? I'll continue it. I have NO guarantee I'll finish it, but you know what? OH WELL.

ENJOY OR DIE.

(Oh and my writing style has changed a little. Just to warn you.)

And I changed my mind about the romance thing. ; )

AND NOW I HAVE KNOWLEDGE OF HORSES! NO MORE PONY-INTO-HORSE CRAP!

Disclaimer: No ownsies on Prof. Tolkien's things, people, places, etc. (sigh)

Chapter 6:

A summon had been made not too long after the incident with Grima Wormtongue that everyone in Edoras was to evacuate immediately. They would all be traveling to Helm's Deep, the great stone fortress that defended Rohan in desperate times. This was now a desperate time.

Whyn looked up from her gelding into the bright sun, traveling just past its zenith. She swallowed and looked back down to setting the straps of Derngold's saddle not too tightly but not too loose so that she would slip off. A hand made contact with her shoulder and she spun around, startled by the sudden touch.

Daron moved his hand away quickly. "Sorry. I just wanted to see if you were all right."

"Of course I am," she replied crossly, returning to tending Derngold. The gelding tossed his head a little and nudged her in the process. Her back brushed lightly against Daron's chest and she righted herself with some color coming into her cheeks.

"Crazy horse," she murmured.

"I don't think you're all right," he said after a moment of silence. "Even if for some strange reason you think nothing is wrong."

She whirled around to face him again. "I'm angry. That's what's wrong."

He blinked brown eyes at her. "Why?"

"Why?" she repeated, incredulity ringing in her voice. "Why? I'll tell you why, then, since you haven't picked up on it yet. I'm a woman."

He laughed unexpectedly, making her start slightly.

"Sorry," he got out between laughs. "But you said it so humorously."

"Glad I could be of amusement for you," she spat as she began to lead Derngold down to slope to meet with the other citizens. Anger made her back stiff and shoulders tense. Daron trotted to catch up and caught her upper arm.

"I'm sorry. But what does being a woman have to do with—?"

"Everything," she answered solemnly. "They will not let me fight, I know it."

Daron stared down at her. "You want to fight?"

"Of course I do. But it's not just them…Papa said that I could not carry Grendhold on our way to Helm's Deep."

"Well, the others would think—"

"I don't care what they think!" she wailed. "I just to fight, Daron. To show them that the shield maidens of Edoras are strong and valiant. That they do not fear death."

"Death?" he repeated, eyes widening. "Whyn, I'm starting to know how they feel, now…Death?"

"It's a natural part of life." She moved up and out of the gates of her home, holding Derngold's reins in her hand and twisting them furiously. She did not want to die, of course, but it was just a fate to be recognized if she was to fight. Daron just did not understand.

That night as the long line of peasants and soldiers alike rested from their day of traveling, Whyn sat next to her father silently and plucked idly at a blade of grass.

"I want to at least have the sword near me, Papa," she said suddenly, not looking up at him. "I want to be able to protect those I love if something were to happen."

Her father's strong arm wrapped around her shoulders and drew her into a half-embrace.

"I would like to see that," he told her softly. "You know I would. But at the same time, Whyn, I want you safe and protected as well."

"We can all just protect each other," she whispered.

"No, we can't. I'm afraid it does not work that way."

"It will." She blinked back angry tears. "I will make it." She got up and walked along the large camp, arms wrapped around her stomach to fend off the chill of the late evening. Above her the stars were making their appearance in the dusk. She stared at these for a long time before finding one that she could easily find in the future. She thought back to a book she had read—one that had belonged to her mother—about a man who had called a star his very own. She tried that now.

"Alian," she whispered into the air, softly so that no one else could hear unless they were right next to her. "You are my star. Alian."

Her gaze turned back to the camp up ahead. There, the king's tent was set up, along with those of the Ranger and his companions. She bit her lower lip and walked leisurely down, looking like she was just out for a normal stroll. As she passed, she viewed the Ranger, sitting with the Elf and conversing over something. He looked up and they made eye contact, but her face did not flush. She continued to meet his piercing gaze with her own.

Eventually the Ranger broke away and said something to the Elf, getting up gracefully and walking over to Whyn. She felt butterflies pound against her ribcage, wondering what he could possibly want with a normal peasant like herself. He stood before her now, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Hello, my lady," he said pleasantly, inclining his head respectively.

"H-Hello," she replied breathlessly.

"May I ask your name?"

It took Whyn a second to recover her voice. "Whyn."

He smiled. "Like the lady Eowyn," he observed amusedly. She smiled as well. Eowyn was someone she had longed to meet all her life.

"You are a Ranger?" she asked before she could stop herself.

"Yes."

"They…They say you are the…the king of Gondor," she continued in a hushed voice. What was she doing, blabbering on like this?

"Well, that had yet to be decided. May I ask you a question now, my lady?"

She felt a blush creep into her cheeks. "I'm no lady."

"Of course you are."

"W-What is your question, my lord?"

"I am curious as to why you wear men's clothing when the other women do not."

Another blush heated her face furiously and she was thankful for the gathering dark. "It…It makes fighting easier."

A look of intent came into his visage. "Fighting? You know swordplay?"

"Yes, my lord."

"You may call me Aragorn, if you wish."

She nodded. "All right, my…I mean…Aragorn…" She said the name hesitantly.

"From whom did you learn?"

"My father."

"I see." He looked over to the tents, where the wizard, Gandalf, was looking out to him as if beckoning him over. "I see I am wanted. Well, my lady Whyn, I will hopefully have the pleasure in speaking with you again." He brushed his lips against her hand before turning to walk to the wizard.

She stood there for some time, wondering in her mind what had just happened until the dark enveloped her.

A/N: No, no, no, no. And no again. This is not….NOT NOT NOT an Aragorn/Whyn thing. Arrrgh no no no no you crazy people! He is loyal to Arwen darn it! And Whyn does not feel that way. No no no.

Just wanted to make that clear.