Gimli and I divided our attentions between Aragorn and Legolas. If any two people would choose now to have a disagreement, I had not expected them to be our ranger and elf. Maybe Gimli and Legolas…but that would have been just another bout of bickering. Whatever words had passed between Aragorn and Legolas had cut deeper than anticipated.

I found the elf prince standing on one of the causeways, eyes fixed on the distance where our enemy would soon emerge from. I announced my presence a moment after I arrived, with a soft clearing of the throat, though I doubted the elf had missed hearing my approach. He glanced at me. "I suppose I should thank you for not bringing up my name among those with fear in their eyes."

"That's the first time I've heard you speak since Aragorn returned." He noted. "You've been keeping awfully quiet these last few hours."

"Hopeless words spread fear like wildfire." I faced the horizon beyond us, imaging what it would look like blocked by orcs. "I decided it was better to keep silent, lest the only thing I'm capable of saying is discouraging." I shook my head a little. "Fali was the one for voicing optimism, even when times were at their worst. My approach has always been to prepare for the worst and hope for the best…it's been more difficult to do the latter this time."

"Wise words." Legolas replied, and then was quiet. Perhaps he regretted his words? They had been in elvish, and were not likely understood…his tone then? That had been negative enough.

"Don't worry, you spoke in elvish." I found myself saying.

"How much have you trained for battle?" Legolas asked.

"Trained? Well, I spent many a day on the training grounds with my siblings…can't say I fought with them every single day, but the sword wasn't foreign."

"Not much then." The elf said.

"No, not very much." I shook my head. "I never expected a battle to be in my future." I paused, and then asked "Do you think everything you and the others taught me will be helpful?"

"Helpful? Yes."

"Will it be enough?"

The elf did not reply in words, merely looking me over with an expression of 'I do not wish to say…I don't know'.

"I imagined the answer would be something like that." I answered. "But with our numbers someone who knows a little with the sword is better than having one less in the army."

"Do you want to fight?"

"Do you?" I asked. Silence followed for a moment. "Let's be honest, no one here does…save Theoden, but he has an obligation to his homeland and people. He's only doing what he thinks is best. Helm's Deep was supposed to be our answer…now it's more of a trap than a sanctuary."

"You could leave."

"What?" I nearly gasped. "Leave? Now?!"

"You're afraid, you're unprepared." Legolas stated. "The odds are not with you. We promised your mother we'd watch over you, keep you alive and safe."

"So you're telling me to leave?"

"If you wish too."

I thought about the matter for a few seconds. "No." I replied. "I can't leave. You and Gimli and Aragorn are still here. People need me. It would be disgraceful to leave at this time."

"So you're not afraid?"

"Oh no, I'm still afraid." I nodded, almost finding I had the urge to laugh. "It's just a question of what's right and what is wrong…we need to fight, therefore I shall fight among you."

"Wise words." The elf spoke.

"Do you see them coming over the horizon?" I asked.

"We best go and find Aragorn and Gimli." Legolas replied. That was not the answer I had hoped for.

/

"Did you talk some sense into him?" Gimli asked, nodding in the direction of Legolas when we returned.

"No, he'd already made his mind up that he was in the wrong."

"Why'd he run off?"

"To keep watch of the horizon."

"The enemy approaches?"

"Closer every second."

"I was wrong to despair." I heard Legolas apologize to Aragorn, and I resumed silence again. If I was close enough to hear Legolas, the elf was doubly close enough to hear me. Perhaps the words had been even directed at me in part, a reminder that 'hopeless words spread fear like wildfire'.

"Have you gotten your mouth sewn shut?" Gimli asked me. "Sometimes I forget your standing here."

"Anyone with eyes can see that doesn't fit you." I brought up the chainmail Gimli was trying to fit on his person. "I'd stop trying, it would only prove to be a hindrance in the end."

"It's no mithril, but's better than none." The dwarf grumbled. "And it will fit. If I had time before the battle, I'd get it adjusted properly."

The chainmail finally managed to slip past Gimli's stomach and fell to the floor. It seemed to be a mile too long for our friend.

"It's a little tight around the chest." The dwarf admitted, and we smirked at our companion.

"You may want to consider a child's chainmail." I suggested.

"A child's!" Gimli crossed his arms, offended. "Me, a grown dwarf…go into battle in training armor?!"

"I didn't mean anything like that." I hurried to say. "I only think it would be hard to fight wave after wave of orcs while tripping over the trailing edge of your armor."

An odd horn blew outside our quarters and I froze. My eyes widened in surprise and I turned to Aragorn, with the expression of 'Is that them? Have they finally come? What should we do? Fight? Hide?'. The ranger looked equally confused by the sudden calling of the horn, but was not afraid.

"That is no orc horn." Legolas said, and raced out the door, pursued by the rest of us. We heard marching but softer than that what I imagined the footfalls of orcs to sound like. When I found my way to the front of the fortress I was able to see the gate had been opened, and row upon row of elves was parading inside Helm's Deep. It was a moment of awe. They did look spectacular, in fine armor, with bows and quivers well stocked with arrows.

An army, a true army of soldiers not just assembled and armed farmers and shopkeepers. The sort of army that would give us a chance of winning the battle that was due in a few short hours.

"Mahal." I breathed. "Look at all of them."

"They've come to aid us." Gimli was equally surprised by our unexpected, but completely welcome help.

"Do you suppose Gandalf brought them here?" The thought came to my mind. "Do you see him with them?" My eyes searched for grey robes. They landed upon a familiar figure, not in grey, but also in armor. "Say, isn't that…?"

"Haldir." Aragorn finished my sentence, spotting the elf from Lothlorien himself.

Aragorn raced further down the causeway, with us trailing not too far behind. Haldir's face was rather stoic, but he said "I bring word from Lord Elrond of Rivendell: Long ago there was an alliance of elves and men. We fought and died together."

He was referring to a war long passed and forgotten to most but the elves. But in his words I saw my family, my aunt Tauriel, Bard, the father of three now-elderly people whom my mother still affectionately called friends. That lord was now dead, but always well thought of.

"We come here to honor that alliance." Haldir finished, glancing up at us and we came into his view.

Aragorn approached Haldir, welcoming him and embracing him like a friend, which surprised the elf out of his serious state, but he returned the gesture.

The elves turned and lower their shields and bows in perfect unison. It made me think that they were almost one solider in a way, just in many bodies.

I smiled, feeling hope slowly grow between the knots of tension.

/

It was incredibly hard to stand there, arm pressed against arm with the other men, and the elves, as it got darker and darker by degrees. With every bit of light that faded the sound of something akin to a rumbling thunderstorm grew louder and louder. The army of Isengard, getting closer and closer.

"We could have at least picked a better spot." Gimli complained beside me. I looked beside me at the dwarf, who's view was blocked by one of the higher portions of the causeway. I was standing in one of the shallow-walled sections myself, and could see in front of me, but given how we were almost the same height it would not have helped to change where we stood. I would only feel more uneasy staring at stone, better I see the army coming.

Aragorn appeared behind us. Gimli smiled at him and said "Well lad, whatever luck you live by, let's hope it lasts the night."

"Your friends are with you Aragorn." Legolas nodded, as a real thunderstorm rumbled overhead.

"Let's hope they last the night." Gimli sighed, taking to standing on the edge of his toes to see better over the wall.

"Master Gideon?" Aragorn asked.

I glanced back at him, managing a small smile. "You've taught me well." I replied. "Let's hope the lessons stay with me all through the night."

Aragorn glanced in my direction one more time as he parted to another section of the causeway, and I straightened, throwing back my shoulders.

"Your mother did much the same thing when she was preparing to fight." Legolas said. He and the rest of the elves could probably sense a tension so thick about Helm's Deep it threatened to choke us.

My mother…was this how she felt when she was faced with battle? Fali had her fighting spirit, but I had always thought myself to be quite like her too. How she had wanted to stop any conflict between the dwarves and elves and men that one fateful day…she was a person of peace first, and a fighter second. I was like that, one to seek peace before glory in battle.

But Men and elves and dwarves were people you could negotiate with…orcs only took your answer from a sword or an arrow.

A thin dark cloud formed on the horizon, and my eyes fixed on it, and then a dark mass, like a moving inky carpet, spilled over the hills and filled the plain before Helm's Deep. I thought the army would end, but more and more of them kept coming, those in front getting nearer, until you could make out their features, their crude armor.

So many, I thought. As though every orc in my parents' tales has come to me, all at once. How will I live through this? There are so many…I ceased thinking, some part of my mind, strangely calm, was casting a curtain over those thoughts, and setting my focus to what was happening just now, and not what could happen.

The heavens split themselves open and sheets of rain descended down. Well, we could have done without this…I thought. Let's hope it will somehow serve as an advantage to us.

Aragorn shouted above the noise, words in elvish that I tried to make out, something about mercy…

"Show no mercy, for you shall receive none." Legolas translated for Gimli and I.

The sound of the army stopped without warning, and there was only the sound of rain splattering against stone. "What's happening?" Gimli demanded, now jumping up and down, trying to see over the wall, almost like a child would.

"Shall I describe it to you?" Legolas asked. "Or shall I find you a box?" There was a smirk on his face, and the dwarf laughed in turn. Part of me relaxed, hearing the two of them joke even under these circumstances.

Near silence was replaced with shouting and spear rattling, and we readied our weapons. The otter engraved in my sword gleamed at me. Good fortune, we would all need it this night.

A single arrow shot out of nowhere and struck an orc in the neck. We all stopped, taken a bit aback at the lone shot. Glancing around, I spotted an embarrassed older man with shaky hands and an empty bow. The orc who had been struck fell forward, dead.

Well…it's one less, I thought to myself.

The orcs were quite angered by this, clearly they had not expected for the first to fall would be one of their own. They charged.

The order was quickly given to fire and a volley of arrows flew, enemies falling into the mud. I felt panic racing in me, telling me I should not be standing still, telling me I should be doing something. "Did anybody hit anything?" Gimli demanded details.

"No." I was sarcastic. "Not a single arrow found it's mark." I was shaky.

"How many?" He wanted specifics.

"I'm afraid it's a bit difficult to count." I returned. "More of them are dead than us."

There was an order for a second volley, and then as they drew too close to fire at will. "What happening now? What's happening now?"

"They've gotten too close, we're firing at will." I described the scene below. Maybe we should have hunted down a box for the dwarf…

A structure was raised from the crowds below, followed closely by another of its kind and many more. "Send them to me!" Gimli was anxious to begin fighting.

The structures became discernable as a ladder. "You're wish may soon be granted." I answered Gimli, gripping my sword more tightly.

"What?"

"They're raising ladders."

"Good!" The dwarf was almost smiling with glee.

"Good?!" I echoed Gimli. "You need to work on your definition of the word."

This was it, soon they would be here, soon they would be among us, and heavy fighting would ensure. Soon…the sound of orcs scrambling up the rickety old wood rattled my nerves and my head forced my heart to not give in.

An ugly face sprang up. The knife in it's hand did not gleam in light of the torches, simple and unpolished, but deadly. My reflexes consumed me, and I swung, hitting solid armor. It had little result. I tried again, as the creature leapt over my head . This time I heard a yell. There was blood on my sword, dark blood. I had cut him under the arm likely. Someone with a dagger behind me finished the foul being and threw the body over the opposite side of the causeway.

Another came up the ladder, then another, like spiders out of a hole. My height proved to be an advantage for me, for they simply jumped over me, too busy to notice. I hurried to inflict any injury I could, for the sake of those behind me.

Gimli looked to be having the time of his life. His axe arched high and struck true, and orcs were flung back over the wall. He had a broad smile on his face, and briefly I wondered if my friend was truly sane. How could anyone be enjoying this so much?

"Legolas, I've two already!" The dwarf boasted.

I'm on seventeen." The elf responded, amusement in his tone.

"What?!" A frown replaced the grin. "I'll not have a pointy-ear outscoring me!"

"You two are having a contest?!" I shouted at them. "Now of all times?"

"Nineteen." Legolas corrected his score.

I could not believe it. They really were having a contest between them to see who could kill more of the enemy.

"Is a game like that-" I paused my conversation with a short yell of surprise as one orc noticed me and swung low. Ducking down, I shoved at his ankle, foolishly close to me. He wavered, and fell back. "-really necessary?" I finished.

"Where's your spirit, lad?" Gimli asked. "That's five now, I'll have you know!"

"Twenty-two."

"Damn those arrows of his."

"When did you two decide on something like this?" I asked.

"Shortly before you were placed among us. If you'd been but a minute earlier you could have joined." He swung his axe and added another to his score. "Though I suppose you could join if you liked, all the same. What do you say, Gideon?"

We were interrupted by another large number of orcs coming over the ladders all at once. A swung and caught one by the throat, his body catching another on his fall into the mud. By now there were orcs among those defending Helm's Deep, and more still coming over the wall.

"I think you two are acting like boys who arrived for their first-" I turned to find I had lost Gimli among the scramble. Everyone had lost their places and given up the orderly lines we had maintained before, trying to make enough room to swing swords and fire arrows amid the number of people and orcs. "-lesson." I completed the thought.

A growl behind me made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I spun around, the motion saving me from being sliced open by an orc's sword. I raised my blade in defense, trying to step backward to find a little more room, finding none in the compressed quarters. The orc struck back and I knocked into someone. Whoever it was moved away, a friend, not an enemy. I used the little time and space around me that I had to strike back. Twice his blade caught mine, but the third I managed to catch the area under his arm, like I had the first one. This weakened him enough for me to strike again. I aimed for his throat and found the mark, jumping back quickly as his blade swung in a dying attempt to kill me. The orc fell, inconveniently in the center of the causeway. Already people were almost tripping over its ankles or stepping on the body in the lack of available room. I ducked low and pulled the body to the side.

Arrows flew overhead, some were ours, some theirs. I saw soldiers fall from the wall, both orc and man and elf. It was terrifying, cramped, and constant, and yet adrenaline kept me from feeling any sort of crippling fear.

"Eleven!" I heard Gimli from somewhere.

"Twenty-four!" Legolas sounded just as far away.

"Slowing down, are we?!" The dwarf was taunting his friend.

I regained my breath and shot up. This was deadly, but so far we were holding well. Surely participating in Gimli and Legolas's challenge would not kill me. They were still alive. It could only help to keep fear at bay. How many had I killed? I'd struck a good many, but probably only killed four or five directly. Would my numbers still count if I died before this battle ended?

I pushed that detail from my mind and began striking back at orcs again.

Another by the neck. Six. One under the arm, and then his throat. Seven. One by an exposed part of its leg…but caught by an arrow. Didn't count.

I fell into a dizzy rhythm of swinging, ducking out of the way, and keeping a mental tally of those I killed. My head spun. Drawn swords, dead faces, arrows, rocks, the glimmer of light from the torches, endless rain. Nine kills. Not very bad. I was pleasantly surprised.

"Kill him!" I turned on my heel, recognizing the phrase among the hundreds just like it belonged to Aragorn.

I tried to see what was going on, but remained lost in the crowd. An orc leapt at me and I swung.

There was a sound louder than anything I had ever heard, and a great vibration threw me down a flight of nearby stairs. My vision was blurred, and the world spun faster. "Gideon!" I caught Gimli's voice calling after me.

When I looked up, the wall had a gaping hole in it.