My narrative sometimes tracks Tolkien's version of Middle-earth, sometimes Jackson's. In this chapter, I follow Tolkien in having Éomer present at Helm's Deep, but I follow Jackson in having Éowyn present as well.

Thanks to the following reviewers of Chapter 24: CAH, The Inebriated Lion-Minion, windwraith, and fair rider. Welcome to Tears of Eternal Darkness, who has just happened upon this story and reviewed Chapter 1. I am delighted to receive any and all responses, whether reviewers are logged in or not. If you do happen to be logged in, I will use the reply feature to get back to you.

This chapter incorporates quotations from the book and/or movie versions of The Lord of the Rings.

Beta Reader: Dragonfly

Chapter 25: There is Always Hope

"You knew," Gimli said accusingly.

"I told you he was alive," retorted Legolas, who, to his credit, was not smirking at the indignant Dwarf.

"You didn't tell me you had actually seen him!"

"You wouldn't have believed me if I had."

"Well, I would have if you had pointed him out!"

Now Legolas did smirk. "Lacking my superior elven vision," he proclaimed loftily, "you wouldn't have been able to descry him even if I had pointed him out."

"Scamp!" spluttered Gimli. "Rascal! Rogue! Imp! Have I left anything out?"

"Scalawag?"

"Right. Scalawag!"

Legolas grinned all the more. These were all names he was familiar with, for many were the times that Gandalf had hurled them at his head. Scamp, especially. It warmed his heart to hear Gimli call him a scamp.

Gimli arose and stomped off to refill his tankard. When he returned he was calmer.

"So the warg broke his fall?" he said as he lifted the tankard to his lips.

"Aye, Gimli. They tumbled over and over as they plummeted, and the warg was bottommost when they landed upon a boulder in the midst of the river. The beast died instantly, and Aragorn was thrown clear. He remembers hitting the water and sinking and surfacing several times. He does not remember how he came to shore. It seemed to him that he was dreaming upon a settle in Rivendell and that he felt the brush of Arwen's lips upon his own. Then he awoke. He was lying on his back upon the river bank, and Brego was nuzzling his face."

"Kissed by a horse," Gimli chortled. "If we should survive, that will make a good story to tell of an evening. What will Arwen have to say of her rival, eh?"

'Yes, if we should survive', thought Legolas.Their situation had seemed perilous from the very beginning, but Aragorn had arrived bearing news that revealed that the danger was even greater than they had feared. As Brego had carried Aragorn to Helm's Deep, the Ranger had made an alarming discovery. From a hilltop he had caught sight of a massive army approaching from the northwest. He could make out ten divisions. Ten divisions! Legolas knew that the fortress had withstood many a siege, but never had such a force been thrown at its walls. Moreover, so hasty had their flight been to Helm's Deep that they had had little time to gather provisions. Even if the walls held in the face of a frontal assault, how were they to stave off starvation?

Their vulnerability had been plain to see as the three friends had toured the fortress in the company of the King. Before his councilors, Théoden had put up a brave front when Aragorn had flung open the door to the King's Presence Chamber and carried within his ill news. "A great host, you say?" the King had repeated calmly after listening to his account.

"All lsengard is emptied," answered Aragorn.

"How many?" Théoden asked, his manner still matter of fact.

"Ten thousand strong at least."

"Ten thousand?" A crack appeared in Théoden's façade. He looked at Aragorn in dismay, willing himself not to believe but knowing that a keen-eyed Ranger such as the Dúnadan was unlikely to be mistaken.

"It is," Aragorn declared somberly, "an army bred for a single purpose: To destroy the world of Men. They will be here by nightfall."

Recovering his composure, Théoden replied with an attempt at bravado. "Let them come!" he swore as he strode for the door to oversee the preparations for the defense of Helm's Deep. His councilors and the Three Hunters followed him to the gate of the fortress. As the King surveyed the terrain before them, he issued orders. "I want every man and strong lad able to bear arms to be ready for battle by nightfall," he declared to Gamling. His second-in-command nodded grimly and strode off to convey the King's order. "We will cover the causeway and the gate from above," Théoden declared to those who remained. "No army has ever breached the Deeping Wall or set foot inside the Hornburg!"

Gimli spoke up then. "This is no rabble of mindless Orcs," he warned. "These are Uruk-hai. Their armor is thick and their shields broad."

Théoden bridled at being lessoned by someone only newly acquainted with the fortress. "I have fought many wars, Master Dwarf," he retorted. "I know how to defend my own keep."

Quelled, Gimli slumped against the wall as Théoden and his retainers filed by. Legolas smiled upon the Dwarf sympathetically as he followed, and Aragorn put a comforting hand upon his shoulder. The company returned to the inner ramparts. "They will break upon this fortress like water on rock," Théoden proclaimed loudly. "Saruman's hordes will pillage and burn—we've seen it before. Crops can be resown, homes rebuilt. Within these walls, we will outlast them."

"They do not come to destroy Rohan's crops or villages," Aragorn said urgently. "They come to destroy its people—down to the last child."

Théoden spun about and seized Aragorn's arm. He dropped his voice so that his people would not overhear his words. Legolas looked away, as if he had no intention of eavesdropping, but he could not help but hear.

"What would you have me do?" the King forced out between clenched teeth, his frustration and fury barely held in check. "Look at my men. Their courage hangs 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."

"Send out riders, my lord," Aragorn begged. "You must call for aid."

"And who will come?" retorted Théoden. "Elves? Dwarves? We are not so lucky in our friends as you. The old alliances are dead."

"Gondor will answer," Aragorn avowed.

Theoden almost spat in reply. He thrust his face into Aragorn's, and Legolas shifted slightly so that he might interject himself between the two if necessary. Remarkably, Théoden kept his voice low. "Gondor?!" he mocked. "Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell?! Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us?! Where was Gon—" He broke off and forced himself to speak more calmly. "No, my Lord Aragorn," he said bitterly, "we are alone." He turned and stalked away, calling to his warriors to hasten the women and children into the caverns that honeycombed the mountain out of which the fortress had been carved.

As the corridors of Helm's Deep filled with frightened woman and children retreating deeper into the refuge, the Three Hunters strode amongst the throng and examined more minutely the keep's defenses. Or, rather, Aragorn examined the defenses while Legolas and Gimli vainly tried to convince him to rest and conserve his energy for the battle to come. "Aragorn," Legolas at last cried out in frustration, "you won't be any good to us if you are half alive."

Before the Ranger had a chance to reply, an agitated Éowyn descended upon them—or rather upon Aragorn, for she took no notice of either Legolas or Gimli. Once again Legolas tried to appear as if he were not listening. He stepped back and murmured encouragingly to the refugees who trudged past and laid his hand upon their shoulders, gently propelling them toward the entrance to the caves. As before, however, he could not help but overhear. It seemed that Théoden had ordered his niece to move deep into the mountain with the women and children. That was sensible, Legolas thought. Someone had to take charge of the refugees, and who better than the king's kinswoman? The Elf had seen enough to know that she was respected and trusted by the folk of Rohan. Moreover, by assigning Éowyn that task, Théoden no doubt intended that a warrior should be made free to take his place upon the rampart. To the Elf, this bespoke wisdom.

Yet Éowyn could not seem to reconcile herself to the King's command and begged that Aragorn intervene on her behalf. The Elf would have found shameful her reason for this appeal if he had not suspected that she had a second reason less ignoble than the first. Éowyn declared that there was no renown in superintending women and children and doling out food and bedding. Legolas knew that Aragorn did not fight to amass renown; nor were the Elf and the Dwarf at Helm's Deep for that reason. To reject a command intended for the common good in favor of personal aggrandizement would be selfish, and amassing renown was a sort of aggrandizement. But whether she intended to or no, Éowyn soon revealed her second motive for wishing to evade her duty. "My Lady," Aragorn had pointed out gently, "a time may come for valor without renown. Who then will your people look to in the last defense?"

"Let me stand at your side," Éowyn beseeched as if he had not spoken those words.

"It is not in my power to command it," Aragorn replied, trying to put an end to the interview. He turned away to resume his inspection of the defenses.

"You do not command the others to stay!" Éowyn called after him. Aragorn paused and looked back at her. "They fight beside you because they would not be parted from you," she continued. "Because they love you," she added, the tremble in her voice revealing what she was not permitted to say.

Aragorn's expression as he looked upon her was a mix of the compassionate and the troubled.

"I'm sorry," Éowyn said softly. Aragorn held her glance for a moment before she looked away and made her way toward the caverns.

When Aragorn turned about, Legolas was studying him, a quizzical expression upon his face. "Whatever shall you do, Aragorn?"

"It may not be necessary for me to do anything at all," Aragorn replied dryly. "This night's battle may put paid to my dilemma."

"Oh, good," Legolas replied sardonically. "We shall have to be sure to thank Saruman, then."

"Well," Gimli quipped, "one way or another, your body will be fought over, Aragorn. Quite the compliment, eh?"

Aragorn raised his eyebrows after the fashion of Elrond, but in spite of the Ranger's amused expression, Legolas knew that Aragorn was distressed by Éowyn's infatuation for him. The Ranger was sorry that he would have to disappoint the shield-maiden, but he had no interest in wooing her. Then there was the matter of Théoden and Éomer. Éowyn's uncle and brother had looked on complacently as their kinswoman had tried to insinuate herself into Aragorn's good graces. The King of Rohan and his heir liked and respected the Ranger; moreover, it had not taken them long to conclude that it would be advantageous to Rohan to forge an alliance between their house and the heir to the throne of Gondor. Aragorn would have to refuse Éowyn with the greatest of tact so as to avoid offending her kinsmen and imperiling future relations between Rohan and Gondor. That is, Legolas reminded himself, if there were any future relations between Rohan and Gondor, which seemed doubtful, given that the Men of Rohan were so badly outnumbered by the forces of Saruman.

Legolas' thoughts were interrupted when Gimli gave an indignant shout. Legolas looked to see what had angered him and saw the Dwarf wagging his finger at the agéd Man who had dragged several boards into the mess and begged Gimli to help him construct a cot for his ailing wife. Now the Man wore armor and helm and clutched a sword rather than a lath. "You oughtn't to be here," Gimli bellowed. "Who's looking after that wife of yours?"

"My mother tends to her," said a small figure clad in helm and armor that were much too large for him. The joy that Legolas had felt at Aragorn's return suddenly flitted away. The small figure beside the old Man was Éothain. 'He was scarcely large enough to ride his father's horse', Legolas thought bitterly. 'How less is he of a size to bear a sword. Have I secured his safe arrival at Helm's Deep only to see him flung beneath the feet of Saruman's murderous hordes?'

The pall that now enveloped both Gimli and Legolas communicated itself to Aragorn. In gloomy silence the three proceeded to the armory. There they found the chamber packed with a motley crew of Men and boys of all ages and conditions, most of whom had never wielded anything more dangerous than a rake. These unlikely warriors clustered in the center of the chamber, where armor and weapons were hastily thrust into their arms. Aragorn picked up a sword from a pile of dusty weapons, gave it a cursory look, and tossed it down dismissively. "Farmers, farriers, stable boys," he said, shaking his head. "These are no soldiers."

"Most have seen too many winters," said Gimli, a vision of the old Man rising before him as he spoke.

"Or too few," added Legolas. Everywhere he looked he seemed to see Éothain. Hearing the bitterness in the Elf's voice, Aragorn turned to stare at him. "Look at them," the Sinda continued. "They're frightened. I can see it in their eyes." In the uneasy silence that ensued, Legolas switched to elvish. "Boe a hyn: neled herain dan caer menig!" And they should be: three hundred against ten thousand!

Aragorn answered in the same tongue: "Si beriathar hyn amar nâ ned Edoras." They have more hope of defending themselves here than at Edoras.

Barely keeping his anger and despair in check, Legolas retorted, "Aragorn, nedin dagor hen ú-'erir ortheri. Natha daged dhaer!" Aragorn, they cannot win this fight. They are all going to die!

Aragorn lost all composure. "Then I shall die as one of them!" he shouted. Elf and Man exchanged furious glances before Aragorn abruptly spun about and strode away. Legolas made as if to follow him, but Gimli seized his arm and prevented him. "Let him go, lad. Let him be," he said gently.

Dwarf and Elf returned to the mess, where for several hours Gimli kept a sharp eye on Legolas, who was fidgeting in a manner that was decidedly unelvenly. "You're as twitchy as a Hobbit," Gimli complained at last. "I am sorry," Legolas apologized, "but I am wondering where Estel has gotten himself to."

"Now you know how I was feeling," Gimli grumbled.

Legolas smiled wanly. "If I am not mistaken, you went in search of me. May I not do the same?"

"I suppose," Gimli said thoughtfully, "that Aragorn has had enough time alone with his thoughts." Suddenly the Dwarf seemed to make a decision. "You go look for him," he declared. "Myself, I'm going back to the armory."

The two friends parted. Night had fallen, but the darkness was no obstacle to a Hunter gifted with elven vision. Soon Legolas spied Aragorn sitting on the steps leading to the keep. Near him a watchfire burned, and before it stood two youths clad in armor that, like Éothain's, was too large for them. The one nearest to Aragorn looked frightened and held his sword awkwardly. Oddly, in his belt he bore a small axe that looked to be of dwarven make.

Legolas paused, unsure how to approach his friend. As the Elf hung fire, the Ranger was studying the boy. "Give me your sword," Aragorn called at last. The boy looked about and then approached the Ranger nervously, gingerly holding out his sword. Aragorn took the sword. "What is your name?" he asked the boy.

"Haleth son of Háma, my Lord," the boy said softly. Legolas saw Aragorn's jaw tighten. The boy spoke again, his voice quavering. "The men are saying we will not live out the night. They say that it is hopeless."

Aragorn took a determined breath and stood up. He sighted along the edge of the sword and then swung it about, putting it through a series of moves that had been taught to him by Glorfindel long ago. Then he nodded approvingly and handed the sword back to the boy. "This is a good sword, Haleth son of Háma," he said, placing a hand upon the boy's shoulder.

He looked into the boy's eyes, his expression conveying courage and compassion. "There is always hope," he said gently but firmly. With a final clap upon the boy's shoulder, he turned and strode toward the keep. Legolas followed at a distance.

Once in the keep, Aragorn found a small room off the armory. His face grim but resolute, he set about dressing himself for battle. Putting his sword carefully aside upon a table, he pulled a plated surcoat over his jerkin, fastening each clasp with fingers whose knuckles had been scraped raw by the sand and gravel at the bottom of the river. He slipped his hanger on and buckled his belt, carefully looping the loose end of the strap so that it would not impede his motions. Then Aragorn reached for his sword. It had vanished.

The Dúnadan suddenly realized that Legolas had slipped into the room, his stealth as always a match for the Ranger's vigilance. In his hands the Elf held Aragorn's sword, which he proffered as a sign of his loyalty and respect. "We have trusted you this far," he said, all trace of rancor gone from his voice. "You have not led us astray," the Elf continued. "Forgive me. I was wrong to despair."

Aragorn shook his head. "Ú-moe edaved, Legolas," he replied. There is nothing to forgive.

The two friends exchanged smiles, and each laid a hand upon the shoulder of the other. As they stood there, they suddenly heard a jangling sound, and the both of them turned toward the door. Gimli entered the room stumbling over a chain-mail shirt that was too long for him. "We had time, I'd get this adjusted," he grumbled. Impatiently, he tugged at it width-wise. "It's a little tight across the chest," the Dwarf complained, ignoring the more obvious problem of its length.

Both Aragorn and Legolas broke into grins. Their amused expressions were suddenly replaced by looks of wonderment, however, as the clear tone of a horn sounded throughout the keep. "That is no Orc horn," exclaimed Legolas. He bolted from the room, with Aragon only a few steps behind him. Hiking up his chain mail, Gimli came running after.

When they arrived at the top of the steps leading down to the outer courtyard, they saw a sight that had not been seen since the days of the Last Alliance: a company of Elves marching into a fortress of Men. Théoden had been summoned, and for once he let slip that he was flummoxed. "How is this possible?" he exclaimed, on his face bewilderment mixed with relief. He descended the final few steps as the elven troop came to a halt and its leader came forward. Legolas was both shocked and delighted to see that it was Haldir.

The Lórien Elf approached the King of Rohan and bowed. "I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell," he declared formally. "An alliance once existed between Elves and Men. Long ago we fought and died together." Movement on the stairs caught the Elf's eye, and he broke character just long enough to send a brief smile in the direction of Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. Then he completed his message. "We come to honor that allegiance," he proclaimed.

By now Aragorn had reached the base of the stairs and he launched himself toward Haldir, flinging his arms about him in joy and relief. The Elf, always so reticent, was startled at first, but after a moment's hesitation carefully returned the embrace. Then the two stepped apart.

"You are most welcome," Aragorn enthused. Now Legolas stepped forward. His embrace of Haldir was more restrained than Aragorn's but no less heartfelt. As the two Elves smiled at each other, at some unspoken command the troop of Elves suddenly pivoted and faced Théoden. Haldir and Legolas stepped apart, and the Lórien Elf turned again toward the King. "We are proud to fight alongside Men once more," he declared. It seemed to Théoden's Men that a glow surrounded the Elf as he spoke, and their hearts warmed at the sight.

Now Haldir was closeted with Aragorn, Théoden, and Éomer as they laid their final plans for the defense of Helm's Deep. Legolas and Gimli, meanwhile, had returned to the mess. They knew that soon they would be summoned to take their places on the ramparts, and they were enjoying what might be their last meal together. But perhaps not, Legolas thought to himself, sipping the last of the wine from the bottle that Gimli had stolen from the King's cellar. 'Against all expectations, Aragorn returned to us', Legolas said to himself. 'Against all expectations, allies have appeared upon our doorstep. There is always hope. Yes', the Elf concluded, 'there is always hope'.