Okay, Narylfiel, that review was so cute I had to get you another chapter. And this one is reeeeeally long, so hooray!


"Move back! Move to the caves!" A man yelled to the women, children, and elderly from atop the fortress' wall. The mass of people below began shuffling forward, making for the dark mouth in the side of the mountain. Some looked up to the dusky sky, wondering if they would ever see it again.

The caves were vast: Unmined crystals and springs shone in the light of torches as the people grouped themselves inside. Their voices were hushed, but for the occasional cry of a child or sob of a woman.

Theoden's men were ruthless in their task. Old men, grandfathers time and again, were pulled from their places on the floor and brought to the armoury. Boys who had not even a trace of hair on their faces were taken from their crying mothers, some pleading or hiding, others grey-faced and silent.

In the depths of the armoury, Aragorn examined a sword that was to be given out. He eyed it critically, then gave back to a guard. Legolas was leaning against a pillar nearby, shoulders protected by brown leather and knives still ringing from being sharpened.

"Farmers, farriers, stable boys," Aragorn said grimly. "These are no soldiers."

"Most have seen too many winters," Gimli said from where he stood, hands gripping his axe.

"Or too few," Legolas muttered. Aragorn nodded. A few of the men still wore bandages from their last battle. "Look at them," Legolas continued. "They're frightened. You can see it in their eyes." Many of the men fell silent, watching the strange elf in the corner. "And they should be," Legolas said, switching to Sindarin so that the men would not understand. "Three hundred, against ten thousand!"

"They have more hope of defending themselves here than at Edoras," Aragorn replied, also using Sindarin.

"Aragorn, they cannot win this fight," Legolas said, stepping towards his friends and lowering his voice. "They are all going to die!"

"Then I shall die as one of them!" Aragorn yelled, abruptly breaking back into Common Tongue. The men around Aragorn drew back, the room going suddenly and completely silent. Aragorn looked around, then stormed from the armoury.

Legolas made as if to follow him, but Gimli caught his leg. "Let him go, lad," he muttered. "Let him be." Legolas looked after his friend, though, wondering if this might be the last battle of the Dúnadan.

Night was falling around Helm's Deep. "Every villager able to wield a sword has been sent to the armoury," a guard told Theoden. The king was standing in his hall, gazing at the tapestries on its walls. "My lord?" the guard asked softly when Theoden did not reply.

"Who am I, Gamling?" Theoden asked hollowly.

"...You are our king, sire," Gamling replied, seeming a little shaken by the question.

"And do you trust your king?" Theoden asked, still not turning.

"Your men, my lord," Gamiling said, picking up the king's armour, "will follow you to whatever end."

"To whatever end," Theoden whispered. He continued to put on his armour, Gamling assisting him, and muttering all the while. "Where is the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing? They have passed like rain on the mountains. Like wind in the meadow. The days have gone down in the West, behind the hills: into Shadow." He finished chanting, then stood in his full armour, still staring at the tapestries. "How did it come to this?" he asked.

Out on the walls, soldiers were calling directions to one another, scrambling like ants to defend their halls. Men toted pillars of wood to fortify the gates, some carrying torches to light the way as they ran. Aragorn sat on the wall's edge, watching the activity and frowning slightly at two boys who stood near a burning brazier. They looked no older than thirteen, and were looking at their swords as if they would rather be anywhere else. One of them, unhelmed and grimy, looked over to where Aragorn sat. He turned away quickly, but Aragorn called to him.

"Give me your sword."

The boy jumped, then gingerly handed over the sword.

Aragorn took it. "What is your name?" he asked, running practiced fingers along the blade.

"Haleth, son of Háma, my lord," the boy said. Aragorn remembered vividly Háma's lifeless body in the jaws of a warg. "The men are saying that we will not live out the night." Aragorn looked up, the memory of Legolas's fear still fresh. "They say that it is hopeless."

Standing, Aragorn raised the blade. It shone dully in the torchlight around him, and he swung it a few times. Haleth stepped back, for fear of dismemberment, but Aragorn returned the blade to him. "This is a good sword." Haleth took it and looked at it himself, as Aragorn leaned forward, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Haleth, son of Háma: There is always hope."

In his chambers, Aragorn began suiting up for battle. He put on a coat of mail under his leather jerkin, buckling the belt with his curved dagger about his waist, then reaching for his sword. He found that it was being held out to him by Legolas.

"We have trusted you this far," he said quietly. "You have not led us astray. Forgive me. I was wrong to despair."

Aragorn placed his hand on the elf's shoulder, grinning gently. "There is nothing to forgive, Legolas," he said. Legolas smiled in return, gripping the man's shoulder also.

Gimli came in, struggling with a mail shirt. "If we had time, I'd get this adjusted," he muttered angrily. The hem of the shirt fell from his hands and pooled on the floor about his feet. Aragorn grinned. "It's a little tight across the chest," Gimli grunted. Legolas seemed about to reply, but a horn sounded outside, stopping him short. "That is no orc-horn!" he cried, and ran out of Aragorn's room. The man was close behind him, dragging a still-muttering Gimli behind him.

Outside, soldiers clustered at the walls, looking down to the causeway at the source of the horn-blasts. "Send for the king!" one said. "Open the gate!"

This call was repeated as a large contingent of elves approached the heavy gates, all clad in grey cloaks, gold helms shining in starlight. Each carried a longbow before him, and each were beautiful beyond the imaginings of men. They carried banners signifying their country, though these meant little to the men of Rohan. The gates swung open, the men gaping as the elves passed them. Most of them had never seen any elf but Legolas, and watched in awe as the elves marched into the Hornburg.

Theoden arrived, descending the stairs with a face like his men. An elf clad in a cloak of red with no helm stepped forward. He placed a hand to his chest, in the elvish way, and Theoden repeated the gesture. "How is this possible?" he asked, gazing around at the second army that now filled his fortress.

"I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell," Haldir said, for Haldir it was. "An alliance once existed between elves and men. Long ago, we fought and died together." Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli appeared at the top of the stairs, all three grinning as though Haldir were the Lady of Lorien herself. "We come to honour that allegiance."

"Mae govannen, Haldir!" Aragorn said, stopping at the base of the stairs and placing a hand to his chest. "You are most welcome." Haldir smiled, then blinked in shock as Aragorn hugged him. He returned the embrace, then took Legolas's forearm in a traditional greeting. The soldiers behind Haldir snapped to attention at the sight of the prince, who gave a gentle wave of the hand to put them at ease.

"We are proud to fight alongside men once more," Haldir said to Theoden, his face betraying the flickering of a smile.

Not more than ten minutes later, the elves were arrayed along the walls, prepared for battle. All was silent, but for the wind or clank of a weapon. "You could've picked a better spot," Gimli growled to Legolas, hopping on his toes to see over the wall.

Presently, the sound of many marching feet began to fill the valley. Dim torches spotted the sea of oncoming darkness that seeped across the valley's floor, the pounding of harsh feet on the ground mingling with shouts of commanders within the massive army. The clamor and vibrations reached the caves below, where the women and children glanced fearfully at the ceiling. Aragorn slipped between the ranks of elves and men to Legolas's side.

"Well, lad," Gimli said. "Whatever luck you live by, let's hope it lasts the night." Lightning flashed in the sky, reflecting off of the elves' bright armour and shining dully on that of the orcs. Rain began to fall, tinkling gently on armour and shields as it fell. Legolas thought of how in any other place, he would be greeting the rain with his face upturned to it in joy. His stomach turned as he realized that somewhere, an elf might be doing just that, oblivious to all that was happening in the valley.

"Your friends are with you, Aragorn," he said, not taking his eyes from the oncoming army.

"Let's hope they last the night," Gimli added, clutching his axe-haft. Aragorn briefly held both of his friends' shoulders, then walked away into the ranks of men and elves.

The orcs continued to advance, making no cry of war, except to egg on their own soldiers, and seemed to bleed into the darkness; infinite and deadly and inescapable. Legolas chanced a glance behind him, and his stomach turned again at the sight of barely two rows of soldiers behind himself.

"Show them no mercy," Aragorn called, walking between the lines. "For you shall receive none!"

An orc clambered to the top of an outcropping of stone, and raised its scimitar with a yell. The soldiers stopped marching, about four hundred feet from the wall. The armies watched one another, both silent but for the grunts that orcs seem incapable of holding back.

"What's going on out there?" Gimli asked, beginning to hop again.

"Shall I describe it to you?" Legolas asked. "Or would you like for me to find you a box?"

Gimli laughed.

The orc atop the rock spire gave another yell, and the army of foul creatures began beating their spear ends against the earth. The noise was as if another army had begun marching, and the people in the caves looked up, startled. Aragorn drew his sword. The archers responded to the unspoken command, each setting a bow to their string. The rain, still falling in sheets, made the arrows slick and the men's fingers cold. One of the older men, unable to hold his arrow back any longer, released it with a gasp. The arrow flew straight, hitting an orc in the front row right in the neck.

"Hold!" Aragorn yelled, wheeling upon the archers, who immediately let the tension leave their strings. The orc gave a gurgling hiss, then collapsed.

The orcs looked among themselves for a moment, stunned by the sudden attack, then bellowed their displeasure. The commander on the rock screeched and thrust his sword forth, signaling a charge. The army rushed forward in disarray, all howling and hissing.

"So it begins," Theoden muttered.

"Prepare to fire!" Aragorn yelled. The archers returned their arrows to the strings, some elves, Legolas included, laying an extra beside the first.

"Their armour is weak at the neck and beneath the arm," Legolas said, watching his chosen target draw nearer.

"Release arrows!" Aragorn yelled, bringing his sword down.

Hundreds of arrows soared through the air, cutting down the first few rows of orcs. "Did they hit anything?" Gimli called, still hopping on his toes.

"Give them a volley," Theoden said.

Them men released their arrows, not flying nearly as far or as fast as did those of the elves, but cutting down a few orcs here and there. Aragorn repeated his call, and another wave of arrows soared out, released by a group of elves positioned behind the wall and out of sight from the orcs.

"Send them to me, come on!" Gimli yelled, angry to be left out.

The orcs were now tripping over their own dead and wounded, seeming driven by sheer hate towards the impassive wall. Crossbows were raised from among the seething mass, their bolts flying up at random. An elf beside Legolas crumpled with a yell, one of the bolts having hit its mark in the elf's helm. Another elf toppled from the wall, screaming in terror as he fell towards the points of spear and sword below. More bolts came, knocking a few elves down behind the wall, tumbling down its stone steps.

Orcs rushed to the front of their lines, carrying ladders that they shoved into the gravel before the wall and tilted against it.

Aragorn noticed and called, "Ladders!"

"Good!" Gimli bellowed. The archers turned their attentions to the cruel devices, shooting at the orcs that were already flocking to them.

"Swords! Swords!" Aragorn yelled, readying his own. The elves drew their long blades, and Legolas drew Variele. The ladders landed against the wall, hooks falling and catching on the stone. An orc was poised at the top of a ladder, but was cut nearly in two by Gimli's axe. The dwarf yelled with mad glee and began to attack the other orcs behind the first. Too many elves were falling to the harsh scimitars, however, and Legolas burned with hatred as his fellows collapsed around him. Another elf fell from the wall with a scream, landing among the orcs, who sprung upon him with evil joy.

Aragorn ran through the battle, trying to reach his friends: Gimli slid between an orc's feet and swung at its belly gutting it. Legolas was swirling through the orcs and elves, Variele's blade shining like a blue star.

"Legolas!" Gimli yelled, at a momentary respite. "Two already!"

"I'm on seventeen!" Legolas yelled, beheading an orc with a fluid move that somehow allowed him to grin at Gimli.

"What?" Gimli yelled, outraged. "I'll have no pointy-ear out scoring me!" He roared in fury and disemboweled an orc in one strike.

Legolas sheathed Variele and shot another two orcs and called to Gimli, "Nineteen!"

Gimli growled again and fought to join Legolas so as to check his count.

Aragorn slaughtered an orc atop a ladder, sending it plowing through the orcs behind it, then unhooked the ladder from the wall and threw it back. It cut a swath into the army, and the orcs howled in fury from below. Still more ladders went up, and elves and men still fell from the wall.


Wow, the battle has begun. I'm going from movie, so there won't be any Tirnel for a while. Sorry. Keep your heads up and your eyes peeled! And follow Narylfiel's example and review! They got a special shoutout because of awesomeness. THIS COULD BE YOU!

Until next time.