I can only hope

by Sunsprite

Thoughts of a young Rohirrim warrior as he stands waiting at Helms deep waiting for the Uruk-Hai to attack. Please R and R, my first fic!

Hi! I'm new at this and would greatly appreciate reviews even if they're to say I should never write again!

I can only hope

By:Sunsprite

Rated:PG just in case.

Authors Note:

It's probably been done before but I really wanted to do it. Plot bunnies where attacking me during my exams...Couldn't write about English. I was inspired by Chidiock Tichborne's poem Tichborne's elegy which was written the night before he died, he was only about 28 when he wrote it.

 

Summary:

Thoughts of a young Rohirrim warrior as he stands waiting at Helms deep waiting for the

Uruk-Hai to attack.

Disclaimer:

I own nothing of Middle Earth and the characters that dwell within it or any of the other worlds for that matter, all are property of J.R.R Tolkien and his family. I also do not own Tichborne's elegy. This story was written for my entertainment and I am making no money from it.

Tichborne's elegy:

My prime of youth is but a frost of cares,

My feast of joy is but a dish of pain;

My crop of corn is but a field of tares,

And all my good is but vain hope of gain.

The day is past, and yet I saw no sun;

And now I live, and now my life is done.

My tale was heard, and yet it was not told,

My heart is fallen, and yet my leaves are green;

The youth is spent, and yet I am not old,

I saw the world, and yet I have not seen.

My thread is cut, and yet it is not sum;

And now I live, and now my life is done.

I sought my death, and found it in my womb,

I looked for life and saw it was a shade;

I trod the earth, and knew it was my tomb,

And now I die, and now I was but made.

My glass is full, and now my glass is run;

And now I live, and now my life is done.

I can only hope

Cries fill the caves, echoing off the rock walls. Nobody wants to fight this but we have to, we have to for our future and that of our people. I am willing to die to see that my daughter lives out her life to the full but I never thought I would die so soon when I have not yet seen thirty summers, I do not want to face death on the end of a blade, I only wish that it is quick so I do not have to suffer as my life drains from me. Never shall I have a chance to teach my daughter to ride or hear her call me 'father'.

There are warriors among us but I am not one of them nor shall I ever truly be one. I am a simple man who wishes only to live to the end of his days, a wish that has been so cruelly snatched from me. I know that I shall die this night, it is inevitable for men cannot withstand arrows, swords and axes; they cannot face monsters that are so much stronger. I still hope; hope not for my life but that we shall win, that we shall defeat our foes and prove that we will not back down, that we cannot be beaten. We fight for our freedom and the lives of our loved ones.

Words of comfort seem useless as I say my own farewells. I can see it in their eyes; I can see that they do not believe they shall see me alive again yet they cannot speak their thoughts. I hold my wife to me and tell her it will be alright, that we will see our home once more and live as we once did. I know that I lie but how can her that I shall die and that this is the last time she shall see me while warmth still flows through my veins?

My daughter is not yet one, she smiles as she sees me, her blue eyes free from worry. She does not understand that our lives are on a balance which can tip one way or the other. Death and life are so close together this night that they seem interlinked. I deal death and I live longer.

I try to sound cheerful though my heart is troubled as I tell them that Arhalen is to stud with Hasphelen, I cannot help but wish that I could see the resulting foal for I know that it will be the envy of the village. Arhalen is a fine mare and Hasphelen is a bold stallion, it is a shame I shall not see them again; strange that my thoughts should be filled with concern for my horses and not on me, on the fact that I shall never see another sunrise.

I am not alone in not knowing how to truly fight, many of those around me are still boys who should be playing with wooden swords and not wielding real ones, old men whose hands shake as they grasp their hilts and gaze at the blade determinately. I hope many of them will live, that the women will not have to mourn for their lost ones and lay their sons to rest. I only wish my wife where among them, that she does not have to suffer heart ache.

The armour feels strange on me, will it withstand a blow? It is comforting to know that there is something between me and a blade though it may not be much. I am not a brave man, I could not run into battle filled with courage, I am scared but I will not let them die, I will do all I can to stop it, what shall I call that?

"This is it." Someone murmurs beside me, I smile but there is no warmth in it but only grim determination. I will kill as many of the monsters as I can before they take me as will all who stand around me. 

We walk onto the battlements; no one speaks for there are no words to say as all think their own thoughts. I try not to linger on what I will never experience and try instead to think of all the joys that I have had. I will never have to suffer old age and all the pain that comes with it as the body fails in that there is a gift.

I wish I could see the sun once more so I can keep it forever in my mind but every moment I close my eyes to escape the site of the Uruks that have come to slay us, I can still see them as they chant and smash their pikes against the ground. They have not moved yet but stand as though challenging us to come against them.

How can I face something so much bigger than I? Creatures so hideous and who do not care about their own lives and whose only wish is to see us dead, how can anyone withstand that? I have heard King Theoden and Lord Aragorn encourage us and tell us that we shall not be defeated but who really knows? Who can foresee what will happen this night? I only hope that I do not die in vain.

Lord Aragorn shouts out. With my heart pounded against my ribs, I put an arrow to my string and pull it back, my hand shakes with fear or with the tension of holding the string back; I know not, perhaps both. I have no time to be scared, no time to think, for too many lives hang in the balance.

Someone looses an arrow and all hold their breath as an Uruk-Hai falls to the ground, an arrow through his eyes. This is it. My mind tells me and it is right. Never have I seen such a sight, thousands of Uruk-Hai running towards the walls of Helms Deep; it seems that their force could simply smash the walls to pieces.

As one we release our arrows, they hiss through the air with many meeting their targets and many Uruk-Hai falling to the ground. Again and again we shoot until my fingers bleed and my arm aches but they seem not to belong to me, I do not feel them. But still the creatures come, still the black mass draws closer.

Ladders begin to appear, being raised against the walls, swarming with Uruk's, so many that I cannot distinguish each one. "They are on the wall!" Someone shouts; fear stabs through me and I draw my sword as the black creatures run towards us, bellowing in their foul tongue. No thoughts pass through my mind as I wait for them, only that I can still hope for my child's future. I am not a hero but then who really is? We all do things because they have done, they have to be done.

It's not long and it's probably a piece of crap but please review! May I add my dog's  grammar is better then mine.