Hi everyone, chapter 14 is here. Huge apologies for the delay which was much longer than I expected. I didn't think I would be able to upload on Sunday as usual, and then when I went to upload on Monday, my internet wasn't working, and it's only just come back on today. On the plus side, it means that this chapter is uploaded today, and then a new one on Sunday as usual, so two in a shorter space of time.

I will also be uploading a new chapter for my Game of Thrones fanfic 'The Way It Should Have Been' over the next few days, just making a few finishing touches, and I've also been working on a modern day one shot for the Stark family which I hope I can finish and upload in the next dew days as well.

As usual, thank you so much for the reviews, I appreciated everyone's feedback on the battle scenes I was struggling with, it helped me with the next chapter. Speaking of the next chapter, if anyone has a chapter title idea for the Battle of Helm's Deep, it would be much appreciated. I can't think of one :).

Anyway, hope you enjoy chapter 14.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters/locations etc. belong to the Tolkien estate and New Line Cinema. Some dialogue is borrowed from 'The Two Towers.'

Faramir had eventually managed to move himself away from the cliff and took what seemed like a long walk back to Anorroch. As he walked, alongside Legolas and Gimli, the men of Rohan began to eye them sympathetically, having heard the news of Aragorn's fall. Faramir made no effort to talk to anyone, fearing that the tears he was fighting to hold back would fall if he tried. Aragorn had not just become a travelling companion, but also an ally, and a friend.

The leader of their group was gone, and Faramir feared for the task ahead. Though they coped well without Gandalf, losing Aragorn was different. Battle would find them at Helm's Deep and without Aragorn's leadership, victory seemed hopeless. It was not just the battle at Helm's Deep that was playing on Faramir's mind, however. The return of the King would unite men under one banner, to stand more of a chance against Mordor, and his return would be a significant boost to the people of Gondor. But the King was gone before he had even arrived at the White City.

The biggest blow Faramir felt on a more personal level. He and Aragorn had shared a connection throughout the entire journey, and though they had known each other for a relatively short period of time, being in peril brings people closer together, and he considered the older man a dear friend. They were arguably the two outsiders in an already dysfunctional Fellowship. Both of them men, a race that very few held in high esteem due to the actions of a few many years before. Faramir had always felt that it was unfair to judge someone by the actions of their ancestors, and so he never judged Aragorn, and the pair of them knew that their race would redeem itself. He admired the older man, and in return, Aragorn clearly saw something in Faramir that was worthy.

For the entire journey to Helm's Deep, Faramir did not utter a single word, nor did Legolas or Gimli. They were all mourning their friend, and for the most part, were all still in disbelief. They allowed themselves the journey to grieve, for they knew when they arrived at the fortress, they would have to put their grief aside and focus on defending the people of Rohan. Faramir did not know the common folk and beside a few of Théoden's main riders, he was not that well acquainted with the soldiers of the Mark, but he would fight for them, and would let them know that Gondor stands beside Rohan.

After riding for a short while, they came to a clearing and in the distance, he saw Helm's Deep. It was easy to see why Théoden had abandoned the ill-defenced Edoras and fled here. The stronghold before him was one that would be truly difficult for any army to take. Surrounded on three sides by the White Mountains. There was only one way in, and the walls were high. Faramir felt some confidence return to him about their chances in the battle that would inevitably occur here.

Even from afar, it was clear to Faramir that this was a fortress built when Rohan was still a part of Gondor, during what the Gondorians labelled as their 'glory days'. Its stone structure was similar to that of Minas Tirith, as was the way in which it was near impossible for enemies to penetrate. With the right amount of men, Faramir knew that like Minas Tirith, the only way to defeat those who defended this fortress was by siege.

When they reached Helm's Deep, the gates were opened for them, and the people bowed before their King, rejoiced to see him well once more. There were hundreds of people, mostly women and children, and far more than those who had set out from Edoras. It was as if the entire population of Rohan had fled to the fortress. That did not surprise him though for on their journey to Helm's Deep, they had passed many villages that had been abandoned as Saruman's forces had raided and burned all they could. This place was a safe haven for them.

They reached the inner walls of the fortress, and Théoden went to greet his niece, who had arrived safely, and he was followed by his men, who went looking for their families. This meant that Faramir was able to dismount without anyone fussing over him. While he appreciated the help, he was not in the mood to be fussed over, or to strike up a conversation. After dismounting, he looked at Legolas and Gimli, and they back at him, and they all silently acknowledge each other and their loss, before parting ways for a short while.

He had planned to spend some time alone, but he saw one of the riders of Rohan who had been injured during the battle against the wargs, stumbling as he was heading towards the stairs, struggling to walk due to the large gash on his leg. He went over to the man, whose name he did not know, and placed his arm around his shoulder, allowing the man to lean on him for support. He helped the man up the stairs and aided him to where a makeshift healing house had been set up. To his surprise, Éowyn was the 'healer', finishing stitching a wound that a man had received to his arm. She looked up and saw him and helped him get the man sat down so she could look at his leg.

"I did not realise you were a healer, My Lady."

"Oh, I am not. But I have had plenty of practice with stitches. I would often stitch any cuts that Éomer and Théodred received in battle."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked, looking around and seeing she had a lot of people to attend to.

"The supplies are by the main gate to the fortress. If you wouldn't mind bringing them to me, it would be a great help."

He nodded, and headed towards the main gate, and saw that there were several healing supplies still there. People had been too busy reuniting with families that supplies had been forgotten about, and he judged that it would take him at least eight separate journeys to take all of the supplies to Éowyn, but it meant that he was helping in some way, and so he did the job without complaint, and before long, all the supplies had been taken to the makeshift healing house.

Faramir spent the next hour helping Éowyn with the injured, and with the two of them working together, they managed to help all the men that needed it. Now free from any work to do, Faramir let out a heavy sigh, and found a corner he was able to sit in. He was followed by Éowyn, who had a look of sorrow on her face.

"I'm sorry," she said, and he looked at her in confusion, and then it dawned on him what she was referring to: Aragorn's death. "I heard about Lord Aragorn. We haven't known each other long but it was clear to see that the four of you were like a family."

"Thank you," he said, grateful for her comfort, and he thought about her final words. It was true. Since their journey from Rivendell had begun, the Fellowship had formed a sort of kinship, and he had started to consider Aragorn as a brother, and he felt immense pain at his loss.

Understanding that now his work was over, and he desired a little time alone to grieve, she squeezed his bicep to offer some comfort and then left him. He sat alone in the corner, his mind drifting to the difficult few days they have had, and the even more challenging ones to come. He found it hard to believe that it had been just over a week since that fateful day in Amon Hen, when the Fellowship had been broken. So much had happened since then, that he felt more time had passed, and it was hard to keep track of what happened when.

Time had passed as he was musing to himself, and he remained in silence, more than content with it. His solitude was disturbed, however, when a hand was placed on his shoulder, and he turned to see Legolas and Gimli stood beside him. He gestured to his side, and they both sat down, and he was handed a tankard of ale by Gimli.

"To Aragorn," the dwarf said sombrely.

"To Aragorn," Faramir and Legolas replied, and the three of them clinked their tankards together, honouring their friend.

They sat in silence while they drank, and Faramir found that the ale left a bitter taste in his mouth. He was not sure whether the ale itself was the problem, or whether his poor mood meant he did not like the taste.

No more words were needed, and so they remained in silence. Faramir noticed that Legolas was fiddling with something in his hands, a small object that he was turning. He assumed it was the evenstar necklace that he took from the orc, but as Faramir looked closer, he realised it was not. Instead, it looked as if it was a kind of pebble, perhaps a token.

"What is that you hold?" he asked the elf, and he surprised himself as he asked it. He did not usually involve himself in other, people's business, but he would admit he was intrigued, for he had not seen Legolas with this particular item.

"It was a gift. From someone very dear to me," he replied, with a look of longing in his eyes. Faramir knew the look immediately, for it was one he had seen several times over the last few weeks on Aragorn's face when he thought of the Lady Arwen. However, he was not aware that there was a woman in Legolas' life. The elf had kept that to himself.

"There is a woman?" he asked.

"There was," he replied, and the past tense made Faramir wince, realising he should not have brought the subject up. "Tauriel her name was. I loved her and though I believe she loved me too, it was not in the way that I wished. She loved me as a dear friend, but her true love was a dwarf from Erebor, and following his death, she took a ship and sailed west to the Undying Lands."

Legolas said no more, and it was clear to Faramir that he wished to speak no more of it, nor did Faramir wish to intrude further than he already had. He cursed himself for bringing up such a difficult topic. Silence descended upon the three once more, not knowing what to discuss, and they remained sat together until nightfall, slowly taking sips from their drink of ale. Tired after all the travelling they had done over the last week, they decided it would be best if they all got a true night's rest, better preparing themselves for the battle they knew was to come.

The rain poured, making the battle harder, and it was cold, though the rush of adrenaline that came with battle meant that Faramir was not bothered by the cold. Instead, he was focused only on survival, not bothering to pay attention to the wet hair stuck to his forehead, or the way his feet were starting to freeze.

He had lost track of where Aragorn had got to. The two of them had begun the battle side by side, on the opposite wall to where Legolas and Gimli were stood, but they had been separated early on in the battle, and he had not had chance to seek him out since.

All he could hear was the clash of swords, and the screams of men being struck down by orcs either side of him. Helm's Deep was certainly a formidable fortress and they were standing their ground well, but they were outnumbered, and there was no way they could win this fight without significant loss of life.

"Legolas!" he heard Aragorn shout, "shoot him!" Faramir surveyed the area, looking for the target Aragorn was describing, and then he saw it. An orc running towards the fortress, with something burning in his hands. Faramir had never seen anything like it before. It seemed to be on fire, but it did not look like an ordinary fire.

Legolas fired three arrows, but each of them missed, and the orc continued his mad dash towards the fortress walls. The next thing Faramir knew, was the wall shaking beneath him as it exploded. Though he was not too close to the explosion, the force threw him back, and he landed awkwardly on his arm.

He managed to find his feet, however, but the sight before him made him lose all hope. The orc had blown a hole in the wall, and thousands of orcs were pouring through the gap, overwhelming them.

Faramir woke up, disorientated, confused and breathless, as his dreams often left him. He had fallen asleep outside, in a rather uncomfortable position, sat against the wall, in the exact same position that he, Legolas and Gimli had made their toast to Aragorn. He noticed the two of them had managed to make themselves more comfortable than he, and he was sure that when they awoke, they would not receive the neck pain that he currently had due to how he had fallen asleep.

Managing to catch his breath after waking so suddenly, he silently cursed this latest dream, for recently, every time he slept, he received one of these dreams. Many people, his Uncle and Gandalf included, had called it the 'gift' of foresight, but Faramir would always scoff at that, for he did not see it as a gift, and he would be glad to be rid of it, though he knew this dream in particular was important, and despite it obviously being the middle of the night still, he had to speak to Théoden King.

It did not take him long to find the King, for he was not abed, and was stood in the main hall of Helm's Deep, talking with Gamling. They were deep in conversation, and Faramir knew it would be rude to interrupt, but he felt the information about the weak spot in the walls was a worthy interruption.

"Forgive me, Théoden King, but I must speak to you."

Suddenly, in the presence of the King, he felt like a small boy, and began to doubt his need to be here, but then he remembered the dream, and felt that if Théoden listened to what he said, lives could be saved in the upcoming battle.

"My Lord, I admit I did not expect to see you at this hour," the King replied.

"I would not be here unless I thought what I am about to tell you is necessary for you to hear."

Théoden raised his eyebrow, intrigued, and once more Faramir felt out of place. He was aware that some of his dreams were essentially prophetic, but he had also had many dreams that turned out to be nothing, and he did not know if the King would understand.

"This may sound rather stupid, but I—I have these weird dreams sometimes. Sometimes they are of things that happened in the past, and others are things that yet may happen in the future. The reason I am here, and not my brother whom was originally supposed to come, is that I saw him die in one of those dreams."

"I have heard of these sorts of dreams, though I must admit I thought it was more of an elven gift."

It is not a gift, Faramir said internally, tired of the amount of times he had been told that, for waking countless times in the night, a cold sweat panicking about what he had dreamt did not feel like a gift.

"My mother's family have elven heritage, though many generations have passed since then, but perhaps that explains it."

"I am assuming you did not come here in the middle of the night to inform me you have dreams."

"No," Faramir said, and took a breath, hoping to explain the situation without implying that the defences of Helm's Deep were not strong enough. "I dreamt of the battle that is heading towards us." At this, Théoden truly perked up, listening intently. "I did not dream of much, but I saw us battling on the walls. There seems to be a weak spot in one of the walls, something that the orcs exploit, meaning the outer wall explodes and they are able to rush into the fortress."

"Which side of the fortress was this?"

"The east side. There was a hole, or something like that, and they were able to use that as a weak spot," he replied, and Théoden's eyes lit up in recognition.

"The drain," he said, more to himself than Faramir, but this was enough to assure Faramir that he had done the right thing in telling him. "I cannot believe we would have overlooked it. You say they used this to enter the fortress?"

"Yes. The entire wall exploded so we lost every man on the wall, and then they were easily able to cut through those on the ground."

"How many orcs were there?"

"I did not see," Faramir answered honestly, for his dream did not show him the true scope of the battle. "I only know that there were enough to overpower us after the wall collapsed."

"Then we must immediately get to work," he said, and turned to Gamling, giving orders. "We must double our defences, I have no doubt Saruman sends a large force. Begin work on adding extra defences to the drain, fill the area with stone if you must. And begin digging trenches around the outside of the fortress, we will need every help we can get."

Faramir immediately made his way to the outer walls in order to aid the men working to strengthen the defences. He spent hours at work, and before he knew it, the sun had risen, and now the women and children were up as well as the men.

"You did not sleep last night?" Legolas asked, appearing from nowhere to stand beside him. Being a ranger, Faramir was remarkably light on his feet, and could avoid being heard moving, but Legolas was a different matter entirely, the weightless elves could sneak up on any foe, even the most highly trained of rangers.

"I did, but only for a short while," he said, and Legolas had a questioning look on his face. He knew as the elf did, that last night was the perfect opportunity for the three of them to get a good rest. "I had a dream, which is why the King ordered the defences to be strengthened, and I knew I would get no sleep, so I decided to help them."

"You should have slept," Legolas said, sounding sterner than Faramir had heard before, "Gimli and I managed to, and it would have done you well. None of us have had a good sleep for a long time, and you are clearly very tired."

Faramir sighed, becoming a little annoyed at the elf. He knew it was incredibly unfair to feel that way, but Legolas was right, he was tired, and the more tired he was, the easier he was to irritate. Luckily, before he could snap at the elf for interfering, Legolas spoke up again, and his words softened Faramir's mood.

"You have become a friend to me, Faramir, I am merely concerned," he said, and any irritation that Faramir had disappeared, for he too considered the elf to be a friend of his now, and of course, were the situations reversed, Faramir would have no hesitation in advising Legolas to get some sleep. But there was work to do, and he would not allow other men to do it for him.

"I am fine, Legolas. But thank you for your concern." Legolas smiled at him, and then looked around, watching the men who were digging the trenches.

"What can I do to help?" he asked, and Faramir was about to reply, telling him he could help him start digging, but he was distracted when he saw a large crowd forming and could hear excited chatter among the people.

He was immediately curious, but his interest peaked when he saw heard Gimli telling people to get out of his way and looked up to see the dwarf pushing his way through, and he and Legolas decided to head towards the crowd, for Gimli was not one to usually act this way.

The two of them managed to fight their way through the crowd of people to find Gimli embracing someone, someone very familiar. Faramir could hardly believe his eyes. For the second time in less than a week, someone he believed to have fallen to their deaths, now stood before him, very alive.

Aragorn certainly looked worse for wears. His clothes were torn, his hair was dishevelled, and he had a large gash on his arm, one that he was lucky had not become infected, but the fact that he was alive was nothing short of a miracle in Faramir's eyes, for the drop from the cliff should have killed him.

"You're late," Legolas said to him, embracing him, and handing him the Evenstar which he had kept safe. "You look terrible."

The four of them laughed at Legolas' words, and Faramir stepped forward to embrace him, more than happy to see the man he had come to consider a brother with them once more.

"Where is the King?" he asked, and Gimli pointed to the Hall. "I must speak with him at once. I saw a host of at least ten thousand leaving Isengard on my way here. They will be here by nightfall."

"They are adding extra defences," Faramir told him. "There was a weakness in the outer wall, and the King has ordered the digging of trenches."

"Good," Aragorn said, "for we will need every bit of additional defence we can get." He turned away from them, heading up the stairs to find the King. The three of them who remained, stared after him, still in shock and they had yet to receive an explanation as to how he was here. As if he could feel three pairs of eyes on him, he turned around and was met with the bewildered looks of his companions.

"What?" he asked, eyebrows raised at the three of them.

"You are not even going to explain to us how you are here," Faramir said, speaking on behalf of the other two as well.

"Honestly, Faramir, I do not know how I survived that," he said, grateful laughter evident in his voice. "Now, I must warn Théoden of what I saw. Prepare yourselves for battle, for it is heading towards us."

The three of them took in what he said, and Faramir groaned slightly, for he was tired of battle, but he knew he had to fight, and so he would do so without complaint.

"How about a bit of a competition," Gimli suggested, "no prizes apart from pride. Let's see who can kill the most orcs in the battle tonight."

Legolas smiled at his suggestion, and held his hand out to shake the dwarves, but Faramir did not want to be a part of any competition regarding killing. He found it much harder to deal with killing other men, and those he killed would return to torture him, both when he slept and while he was awake, but he still despised killing, even if it was orcs, who were bred for the sole purpose of spreading darkness across Middle-Earth.

It was not long before Aragorn returned, with Théoden beside him. The King walked along the wall, delivering orders to his men as he passed them, and the two of them eventually made their way to where Faramir was stood.

"They will break upon this fortress like water on rock. Saruman's hordes will pillage and burn, we've seen it before. Crops can be resewn; homes rebuilt. Within these walls, we will outlast them."

"They do not come to destroy Rohan's crops or villages. They come to destroy its people. Down to the last child," Aragorn objected, and Théoden drew close to him, quietening his words so his men couldn't hear him, but Faramir was close by and could make out his words.

"What would you have me do? Look at my men, their courage hags by a thread. If this is to be our end, then I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance."

The more time Faramir spent with the King, the more he admired him. He knew that they faced an uphill task, even with the added defences, and he was nervous, and worried, yet he did not show it, for a leader must appear strong before their men as their men feed of their leader's emotions. If Théoden were to show fear, it would seep down into his men, and the task of defending Helm's Deep would become significantly harder.

"Send out riders, My Lord. You must call for aid."

"And who will come?" Théoden asked Aragorn," elves? Dwarves? We are not so lucky in our friends as you. The old alliances are dead."

"Gondor will answer," Aragorn replied, determined to get the King to call for aid, but his words fell on deaf ears.

"Gondor? Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell? Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us? Where was Gon… No, My Lord Aragorn, we are alone," he said, and Faramir spoke up, knowing someone in Gondor who would undoubtably answer their plea.

"My brother would answer, I am certain of it."

"I have met Boromir, and his valour is to be admired, but if the host is to reach us tonight, the battle will have finished long before Boromir could reach us." Faramir went to reply, but Théoden was quicker to speak, and he spoke softly, so only Faramir could hear. "I know you believe in your people, I admire that, and I have no doubt that there is honour and courage in the people of Gondor, you are an example of that. But even if they were to get to us on time, I would not count on them coming."

I know they would, Faramir said to himself, but he did not want to speak up to Théoden any more, for he had said his piece.

"Ask yourself this," Théoden continued, clearly knowing that Faramir was going to object to what he said. "You are in your mid-thirties, and while you may not be your father's heir, you are still the son of the Steward. How is it that I have never met the Steward's second son until this moment? You have never been to Rohan on a diplomatic mission, nor have I been to Gondor, not since I was a child.

"Your brother may help, but he would not be able to muster enough men to truly help without the permission of your father, and I am not sure he would answer the call. The relationship between our two countries is damaged, even if we wish it otherwise." Théoden left it at that, and continued down the wall, making sure his men had everything in place.

Faramir thought on his last line, about how the relationship was damaged, and there was no doubt that the relationship between the two countries was not as strong as it once was. But damage can be repaired, and if he survived the battle, he would do everything in his power to convince his father to try and repair the relationship with Rohan.

"You are preparing to fight," a voice said, breaking his line of thoughts, and he looked to his left to see Éowyn approaching him, looking less than happy.

"Yes," he replied, "they will be here by nightfall."

"I am to be sent with the women into the caves," she said, clearly frustrated at the role she had been allocated. "To mind the children, to find food and bedding when the men return."

"And that is not what you want?"

"No, of course it is not. I can fight as well as any man and I should fight beside them, yet my Uncle sends me to the caves as if I were still a child."

Faramir knew the exact reason why Théoden wanted to keep Éowyn from battle, and it was not because he did not think her capable enough to fight alongside the men, but he was careful with his words, lest he accidentally offend her.

"I cannot blame your uncle for wanting to keep you safe," he said, and quickly continued in case she was angered by his words. "You are a fine swordswoman, and I have no doubt your Uncle is aware of that, but the odds are against us and he just wants you safe."

"If the fortress falls even the caves will not be safe. And he has no issue sending you into battle."

"Forgive me, My Lady, but why would he?" he interrupted. "I am just a man from Gondor, why would he want to keep me safe. I do not mean to imply that your uncle would willingly send men to his death, because of course he would not, but none of these men preparing for battle, including me, share his blood. He looks upon you as a daughter."

Faramir had no doubt that Théoden would rather not have any of his men fighting, for he seemed to be a King who loved his people and wanted them to live long and prosperous lives, but he was also a practical and realistic King who knew the men would have to fight, but it was likely that he did not want Éowyn, his daughter in all but name, to be involved in a conflict she had no need to be involved in.

"If Éomer were here, he would be fighting. So, yes, he may send me to the caves because he wants to keep me safe, but deep down, it is because I am a woman. You said women hold more value than most men place upon them.

"And I stand by what I said, but we are expendable, you are not."

He had hoped that his words would comfort her, but it seemed they merely angered her. She had obviously come to him to seek reassurance, and while he had tried to give her that, it seemed he had not succeeded.

"I thought you understood," she said, disappointed in him. "Everything we spoke about on the journey here, about how you feel undervalued, about how you wish you could be treated like an equal, and how I feel the same because I am a woman… I thought you were different to other men, but you are all just the same. You get all the glory and leave none for the women."

Éowyn's final words made Faramir understand something about her, something that she did not even seem to understand about herself.

"But it is not glory that you truly seek, is it?" he said, and she looked at him confused, and was about to bite back, but once again, he spoke to quickly, but he was gentle when he spoke. "It is acceptance, recognition, and I know this because I have been there, I am still there. And trust me, no amount of victory in battle has given me acceptance in my father's eyes. And I know that you know, glory in battle is not what you truly want."

She seemed lost for words, but he saw her eyes change, and the anger was no longer there, even if she attempted to keep the angry façade up by giving him the silent treatment and storming off, but he knew he was right in what he said, and she deep down, she knew that too. Her anger was just a mask, because he had figured her out, something it seemed like no one had before, and finally someone understood her.

He watched her as she stormed off, and there was now no longer any doubt in his mind that in the small amount of time he has known her, he has fallen in love with her. It was a crazy statement to make, for they barely knew each other, but there was no point in denying it. She made him feel things he had never felt before, and he found himself wondering if she was the blonde woman who so often appeared in his dream, the one where he lives peacefully with his wife and children. The dream of peace that has kept him going for many years, hoping for it to be real, and he truly hoped she was that woman.

But for now, he had to put all thoughts of Éowyn aside, and focus on the task at hand, for there was a great chance that they would not survive the night, and his mind had to be on the battle with no distractions.

Hope you enjoyed chapter 14, it was a tough one for me to write, and I struggled to get a decent amount of words in the chapter, but I managed to fit in conversations with Theoden and Legolas which extended the chapter a little bit.

The next chapter will be the last chapter covering The Two Towers (I think, I may end up splitting it into two). There are not as many chapters for the TT storyline as there was for Fellowship, but each chapter has more content, which explains it.

I will be writing another Boromir chapter soon, and throughout Return of the King, I plan to write in a few other pov's as well, but obviously the main pov is Faramir. If there is a particular character who you think would make a good chapter, feel free to let me know.

Once again, hope you enjoyed, and next update will be coming on Sunday :)