A/N: Well, I got some inquiries as to what the relationship in this story is going to be.

Not Aragorn/Whyn. No. Never.

The reason she blushes so much 'round him is because he's like…this really weird, rugged Ranger who people think is a king…of course she would be nervous! IT'S NERVES! You would be too, I bet.

But it's all good.

The real relationship of this story, though, is…Well, if you haven't figured it out by now, then that's too bad.

Oh, and I am going to be re-writing the first few chapters a little…so yeah.

I DON'T OWN ANYTHING! (sob)

Chapter 7:

The rising monument of heroic symbolism in past years made Whyn's eyes widen dramatically. She had never laid eyes upon such a structure before in her life, and the looming stone wall and tower of Helm's Deep was intimidating as well as breathtaking. Her heart sped up with the prospect that there would be a cataclysmic battle here.

The lady Eowyn hurried the women and children to go through the structure, assuring them that they would be safe within the fortress. The women thanked her profusely as they past, and Whyn swallowed as she thought of something to possibly say to the woman she had declared her idol, shifting her sleeping sister in her arms.

Making her way through the stone archway, she met Eowyn's eyes and her stomach clenched nervously. She bowed slightly around Theohir.

"Thank you, Lady Eowyn," she murmured. The older woman nodded her head with a smile and Whyn returned it sincerely.

With that accomplished, she walked through the archway to join the other women who were bustling about and trying to settle their belongings as well as their children. The scene made her sigh heavily and she got out of the way, placing Theohir somewhere where she could sleep with the other exhausted children. There was nothing for her to do here.

Her thoughts returned for the umpteenth time to the men who had gone out to fight the Wargs days ago. The beasts had attacked their train of refugees suddenly, and the men had gone out under command of the King to kill them so that the others could be safe. Her father went out to fight them, but he was a skilled swordsman and could hold his own. Aragorn had gone, of course; that did not worry her much. He was a trained Ranger. What really troubled her, though, was that Daron had also gone.

"I can go with you," she argued desperately. "I just need to grab Grendhold and—"

"No." The word cut through her tirade like a cold knife. Daron's brown eyes sparkled solemnly.

"Please," she pleaded. "I don't want you going out on your own."

"I won't be. I'll be with the other men, Whyn."

"But—"

He sped away on his horse, not bothering to hear another word. He looked back over his shoulder at her and smiled.

"You'll see me soon enough."

Whyn shook her head and looked down at her boots. They were worn with the hard use she had taken out of them during their migration here. Derngold had been given to the elderly, since she was young and strong enough to not need him, so she had walked the whole way.

A commotion sounded in the fortress somewhere. She sprung up from the wall she had been leaning on and urged her tired feet to make the journey to where Théoden and his men were now making their way through the archway and into the heart of Helm's Deep. Eowyn rushed out to meet them, along with the worried wives or family of the other men. Most of them were badly wounded, and some had not returned, she noted dismally. Her eyes scanned the men slowly and her breathing came easier when she saw her father and Daron. They were still alive, yet her father had a few gashes upon him, and Daron sported an ugly wound in his side. She rushed over to them.

"Men are too fool-hearted," she muttered mostly to herself than to them as she helped her father get Daron off of his horse; she saw him bit his lower lip to keep from crying out in pain.

"Maybe," Eohir replied around pants. He was about to swing Daron's arm around his shoulders when Whyn stopped him.

"Get your own wounds looked at, Papa. I'll take him."

Eohir gave her a moment's glance before handing a swaying Daron to her. He groaned and she held on to him tightly, leading him away from the horses and the other soldiers to a secluded niche on the fortress.

"How did you get this, then?" she asked as she returned a little while later with medical items Eowyn had given her gravely.

Daron was leaning against the wall, his eyes opening at her voice and pain etched all over his face. "One of the…stupid animals tore at me. They have long claws."

"I'm not surprised." She gently pulled his blood-stained shirt over his head; armor had already been stripped of him. She saw that old bandages had already been put over the wound, but they were completely blood-soaked and coming apart. Whyn unraveled them and gasped softly when she saw the damage the Warg had inflicted upon her friend.

A few long, deep gashes rendered his ribcage, looking red and menacing. Blood stained his torso and chest. His breathing was labored.

"I should have been there with you," she murmured as she dipped a linen cloth in a bowl of water and began to clean him up. He observed her with intent eyes.

"No, you shouldn't. If something like this could happen, then I don't want to imagine what would have happened to you if you had fought. And I doubt the King would want that. I overheard him declining the lady Eowyn also."

"She should fight too. Anyone who wants to should."

"Whyn," he began sternly, but then he inhaled sharply through his teeth when she pressed the cloth on his wounds. He closed his eyes tightly and his jaw muscles tightened.

"I wish I could at least share some of the pain with you," she continued calmly. "These look terrible."

"You…have no idea, do you?"

"What?"

He kept his eyes closed, though his tension abated somewhat. "You have…no idea how much you don't want this pain, Whyn. And no one else wants you to feel it either. Me…your father…the King…That's why…why we don't want you to fight."

"You have to stop thinking I'm some weak milksop," she muttered. "You know how well I can fight."

"You don't understand." He yelped when she put the cloth back onto his wounds. "You j…just can't understand what losing you would do to me."

She ceased cleaning the claw marks and regarded him seriously. His eyes were open again, looking at her almost meekly.

"You could try explaining," she said softly. "If it would be anything like losing you, then maybe I do understand better than you think."

Daron looked away and would not make eye contact with her again. They passed the rest of the time she spent tending to his wounds in silence only permeated by the din of people outside the niche, bustling about and seeing to the other soldiers who had been wounded.

Whyn was sitting atop a small rise on the fortress, looking out into the darkening sky in the distance, when the person she had least expected came and found her.

Eowyn sat next to her, gazing in the direction she had been staring out to. They spent a moment of silence before she broke it.

"What can I do for you, my lady?"

"You could be kind enough to answer a question." Eowyn's eyes held a sad look about them, but Whyn decided not to question it.

"Anything, my lady."

"Why do wear those clothes?"

Whyn thought back to when Aragorn had asked that same question. "More comfortable than ruddy…I mean…than dresses or skirts. And they're easier to fight or move around in."

The lady of Rohan turned to her. "You like to fight?"

"Oh, yes. My father taught me the sword for several years."

A strange look came into Eowyn's eyes. "Did he?" She looked back out to the distance. "He is a wise man."

"You really think so, my lady?"

"Yes. I am trained in the sword also, but I have no way in which I can show it. Ladies are not expected to fight."

"I know," she replied sullenly. "I want to fight here, with the men. I want to defend those I love and the land I live in. What's so wrong with that?"

"Everything, according to them. They could not understand our need to prove to them than women could be just as strong as they. And they do not want to lose us. They think we are weaker than we claim to not be."

Whyn sighed wistfully. "I'm going to fight. I don't care what they think; I am going to defend these people."

She felt Eowyn's eyes on her, studying her intently. She did not think it discomforting at all.

"You are a lot like me, Whyn."

She started slightly. "H-How do you know my name?" she asked incredulously with a hastily added "my lady".

Eowyn smiled sadly. "Aragorn told me. He had taken an interest in you."

"'Had', my lady?"

"Yes." Her eyes became over-bright. "I was told that he…fell." She got up then, brushing her skirts off gracefully and walking down the stone flight of steps leading into the fortress. Whyn stared after her in disbelief, wondering if what the lady of Rohan had just told her was true.

A/N: Whoo. 'Nother chapter done! Does anyone else hate the part when Eowyn looks all "Oh my God!" when she finds out Aragorn fell off the cliff? I know I do. Why? I HAVE NO IDEA!