A/N: It's been something like nine months since my last update, but I'm glad to say that this story is breathing again! This chapter is half the length of my usual chapter, but it's only because I've got a lot to do and I just want to let this story surface again, especially since The Return of the King is about to hit American Theaters. Please enjoy. Sorry about the wait.

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Chapter Six

Celgin and Runhelm had been almost as reluctant as Ganha, but neither had the courage to debate Eowyn. She knelt in the sopping wet grass, her light dress soaking the mud up as if it were a sponge, and she spread the armor she was given across the puddles. It was just the bare outer pieces, easy enough to strap on over her clinging drowned dress, but Eowyn was given no helm – none could be spared, for all others that were available were used to collect water.

'Oh, don't stare,' She said sourly, accepting a sword from one of the women attending the wounded soliders, and sliding it into the sheath with a ring of the steel and a quick spray of raindrops. Ganha only raised his brows, his fist curled around the hilt of his sword as he waited for her to prepare, and when she finally began stalking onwards he followed. Eowyn passed the woman that had taken the children from the Eastern gate, and paused to speak with her. 'We will do what we can to the Eastern gate, but should one of us not return in half an hour, send two strong ones back our way  - arm them.'

'Aye, m'lady.'

'Very well, you men,' Eowyn gestured to the three young men that stood around stupidly and watched her bring order to the situation. Stories obviously would make it around the kingdom of the White Lady's kindness and courage, but not as far as this. Eowyn was willing to take risks for them, risks as far as literally going up to the mouth of the enemy and drawing her own sword to fend it off. 'Follow me.'

Her commanding air was what hurt Ganha's pride at first, the sheer nerve of a seventeen year old girl that lead her to do things like this. If her uncle could see her now, if her brother and the Prince could see what their White Lady was doing now they would most likely have scolded her, but in their hearts been awed by her courage. As he watched her stride ahead of them, a hand before her eyes to block the singing rain and her golden hair twisted back into a knot at the base of her neck, he recalled hating her for what she was. A woman, a noble woman, never having to fight nor worry of her own hunger or suffering – but now it had occurred to him that she did not worry for her own, she worried for a kingdom's suffering, and for that suffered ten fold herself.

He stepped up faster, to meet her pace, and she gave him a sidelong glance. Ganha only kept his eyes forward, and there were no words between them as they made for the Eastern gate. The wind beat around them, and the rain threw itself forward in bursts of a thousand tiny, cold needles, all coming toward them at once as if specifically targeting their will.

It was a near ten minute walk to the other gate. The hill sloped into a downward curve, with the rain slicked grass whipping at their knees and the darkness almost concealing the full height of the wall. Occasionally lightening would flash overhead and send a brillant blue over the scene, flickering the image of the gate and the empty plain around it. In those seconds Eowyn was able to see that nothing had yet been breached, but it was clear where the children had entered.

'There,' she cried over the rush of the wind as it whipped her hair around her face like little gold lashes, and she pointed to where the ground had softened enough for the wood to lose it's firm setting into the soil. It had begun to rot on the ends, thus losing stones as far as three feet up the surface area. It was plain and visible to the naked eye. Ganha went before Eowyn this time, making the last few yards down to where the gate met the earth.

Upon closer inspection dark red blood shined in the thin light of the moon overhead, streaking the tips of the grass and the end of the rotting wood. Something had successfully crawled through, but now without great cost. It had probably been one of the parents, trying desperately to push their child through the hole before they ran out of strength.

Ganha crouched down, then resorted to kneeling on the ground and inspecting the hole for himself. Eowyn and Runhelm gathered around him, and watched as he prodded the soft wood and loosening stone with his bare fingers, frowning in displeasure.

'What is it?' Eowyn asked, and Ganha lowered himself even further to the grass, trying to get a look out.

'It is worse than I had anticipated, m'Lady,' His voice was grave, and muffled by his position. 'We'll need more than stones and wood to patch it up, that is certain. Tar and time to dry is what it truly needs, but…' He trailed off, and shrugged one of his plated shoulders. 'For now stones will have to do, but they will not hold.'

Eowyn came to her feet again, her boots scwelching the soaked ground as she moved around Ganha's prone form. She searched for anything that might be of use. Nothing around them, of course, but grass and rain and darkness. She exhaled sharply with fatigue, and ran both bare, white knuckled hands over her plastered dark gold hair. Fate seemed to be working against them entirely, and Eowyn had already admitted to herself that she was exhausted.

There had to be something useful back in the center of Edoras, anything to put in front of the gaping weakness of the Eastern gate. Eowyn felt the eyes of the three young men looking to her for the next step, and she felt naked. In a single night she had given the huddled, frightened people of Rohan reason to believe in her, reasons she herself did not even understand, but all the while she felt her confidence slipping. How her brother – how her uncle managed an entire kingdom boggled her mind. So many people to care for, so many faiths and hopes to keep alive, and they all rested on the narrow width of her shoulders.

Eowyn turned to face them again, willing herself to continue as her brother would. She nodded to Celgin, and the awkward young man straightened at her order. 'Go back to the city and fetch as many young boys, strong boys – anyone strong and healthy. Bring materials to patch this with, you should find something in there!'

Celgin squinted at her, cupping a hand over his eyes to block the rain. 'What of you, m'Lady?'

'Staying here,' Eowyn called, her bloodied dress whipping to one side and exposing the swell of her hip. 'We're armed, that's good enough should any try and enter – one at a time is the best they can do, Celgin, now go!'

Celgin nodded, pressing a fist to his chest before turning on his heel and sprinting back to the inner circle. 'Aye, m'Lady!'

'Do you see anything?' Eowyn then asked Ganha, who was still trying to move further into the gap to widen his range of vision. The otherside of the gate was just as dark, and no shadows were cast to betray any danger. He shook his head, face twisted into a scowl as he dipped his head to go beneath the arch of the rotting gate. Eowyn bit her lip, her fingers twisting apprehensivly into the folds of her dress as tried to crawl through the hole in the wood.

'Wait…' He whispered, and Eowyn felt herself freeze from the balls of her feet to her hips. The sound of the rain and the battle had died when they came closer to the gate, as it blocked off the wind and roar. The air was just tense, and fearful. 'I see something moving – it could be another child.'

'Ganha, come back,' Eowyn replied harshly, taking a step back against her will. Her heart pounded. 'Ganha, get back!' She felt herself snap, but he held a hand up in gentle defiance.

'Just another moment…it's…injured, I think…' Ganha tucked his shoulder and ducked closer to the ground, extending an arm through the hole of the wall. Eowyn felt her legs shaking in anticipation, wishing he would just pull back and back inside. The rain misted down on them after so violently hitting the gate, and Eowyn looked up for only a moment to watch it – then Ganha cried out. It was a sharp, single cry of agony, and his body jolted.

'Ganha!' Eowyn didn't even hear herself scream his name, didn't even feel her knees plow into the soft earth as she rushed down with Runhelm to pull Ganha back to safety. She clutched his elbow and pulled, but something had him on the other end. He cried out again. 'Ganha!' Eowyn sobbed, and opposite her Runhelm pulled his sword out, thrusting it blindly beside Ganha and into whatever was holding him. It shrieked – an orc – and Eowyn was able to pull Ganha back.

The sight made her knees melt into useless liquid, and she collapsed into the puddles, shaking hard and covering her mouth with a bloodied hand to unconciously stifle her own sobs. Blood on her hand, warm against her cold skin, it made her sick to her stomach. A long, jagged blade of an orc had been thrust up into the underside of Ganha's armor, somewhere by his ribs. Eowyn didn't know where, she only knew that he bled profusely, and the look in his eyes was of unbridled, naked fear.

'My lady!' Runhelm shouted a quick warning, and Eowyn thoughtlessly threw herself over Ganha to shield him as Runhelm swung his glinting blade into the gut of Ganha's attacker – the hole in the gate had been made larger, big enough for them to start crawling through. Eowyn ignored the hot blood that soaked into her sopping dress, steaming, hot against her skin and pressing into her stomach as she wrapped both arms around the young man and pushed her knees against the mud, moving away from the gate. 'M'lady, they found a way through!'

'Hold them off…' Eowyn cried weakly, not caring if he even heard her. Of course he would hold them off. Her tears mixed with the rain making rivers down her pale face as Eowyn stared down at Ganha, oblvious to Runhelm's battle before her. Ganha still had the blade deep into his side, and the handle bobbed up and down with every rattled breath he took. Blood oozed around the brown, twisted metal, and Eowyn gently wrapped her bony fingers around the hilt. Ganha moaned, but she didn't look into his eyes. 'Ganha, please hold still…'

Ganha's reply was his raising his to look at his wound, and whimpering in pain and fear when he saw how deep in the blade was. Eowyn freed her other hand to push his head gently back down onto the grass, and cover his pale eyes with her shaking hand. He cried out and arched up against her as she began easing the blade from his side. Eowyn clenched her teeth so hard it made her jaw and skull ache, tears blurring her vision as she slid it out of his body, from being jammed between his ribs and flesh. It came out. Eowyn tossed it aside, and Ganha gasped deep in his throat when bright red blood began flowing freely from the wound.

Eowyn never thought a person could have so much blood. It was everywhere, over her arms, the front of her dress, on her face, on her neck, all over Ganha. It pooled around him like the rain, warming the puddles and staining the ground a horrible dark scarlet. She pressed her hands to the gaping injury, and the blood still flowed between her white fingers. Eowyn seized Ganha's shoulder and removed the pad of cloth from beneath the guard, momentarily pressing it to the wound.

'Hold it there,' she told him, leaning over his scared face and guiding his hands to hold the pad onto his own side. He nodded, and choked out an affirmative reply, his green eyes darkening but remaining locked with hers. They were frightened, so frightened. Eowyn ached to comfort him, but only stroked the side of his wet face before rushing to the skirts of her dirtied dress. The outer layers were thick enough to tear it once around, and she did.

She held one end down with the weight of her knee, and with both of her hands yanked upward on the fine pale material. It ripped loudly, and she continued to pull until she had ripped a long strip that winded around her legs, up to her mid-thigh, leaving only her underskirt to warm her legs. She could not care. Carefully Eowyn turned back to Ganha, whose fingers had loosened their grip on the bunched up cloth and could not help but let the blood escape.

'No!' she cried, moving over him again and slapping his pale cheek with her bloody hand, leaving a print on his face. 'Ganha, no! Come back, Ganha!' Eowyn sobbed, and Ganha's eyes rolled around to try and focus on her again. He moaned. 'Ganha, do you hear me?!' Runhelm cried out behind her. The sound of a body dropping to the ground only briefly caught her attention.

'I hear you, Lady…' He said softly, thinly. His voice was barely above a whisper in the cold night, but his eyes found hers again. Eowyn brought his hands back to holding the pad to the injury, and she squeezed them hard. 'I hear you.' He mumbled.

'Ganha, listen to me. Hold this here, I am going to wrap the wound tight…' She said urgently, but his face was relaxing. 'Ganha!'

'Yes, m'lady.'

Eowyn released his hands and stretched her skirt material over his torso, holding it tight on one side of him and pulling it around to wrap it once. Twice. Three times she was able to pull it under his body and over again, and knotted it at his ribcage. The blood seemed to have stopped then, and Eowyn moved back to cradle Ganha's face in her hands. 'Ganha,' she called, and he looked over at her again, his face glistening with raindrops but also ashen pale. 'Ganha, stay awake…do not go to sleep, I swear to you,' she gasped, stroking his hair back from his creased forhead. 'I swear to you I will see you safe.'

Runhelm cried out again, and something crashed hard into the wall. Eowyn whipped her head around to see over her shoulder. Another orc had had entered, and from the sound of it there were ten more behind it to take it's place.