Chapter Three

"Prince Legolas," I said quietly, "I need some bandages..." Legolas's blue eyes widened and he glanced at my shoulder. I shook my head," A corset would be even better," I added, discreetly pointing at my chest. If I was going to pose as a man, I wasn't going to be a convincing one with breasts. Legolas gave a bemused smile that reminded me of Leith and he awkwardly leaned to my ear.

"If you go down the corridor, the first door to your right should contain a wardrobe..." He said. I nodded and gave him a pat on the shoulder before walking quietly into the room. I finally found a comfortable-looking corset, which only had a few buttons. It took a while to pull it on, but I managed it. I looked in the beautifully carved mirror and I messed up my hair, trying to appear a little more male. There was no way I was going to be forced into a dress and treated like a moron just because I was a girl and I couldn't very well start a women's rights campaign, so this would just have to do.

I wondered vaguely what Caleb and Ethan would say if they saw me now...the thought made a mixture of amusement and grief rise in my chest and I swallowed hard before making my way back to the hall.

This time, my arrival was noticed by the occupants of the court, and many bowed at me. My eyebrows shot up, I was chuffed by the treatment, but extremely worried at the same time. What if they expected me to be some sort of...super warrior? Sure I could fire a machine gun, and I'd already had basic training in sword-fighting and archery...but I was no Robin Hood.

I remembered my manners suddenly and I bowed low to King Theoden, who nodded his head graciously.

"Ahh, Faith is it?" He said. I gulped and wondered if the name was considered feminine here. If a guy was called 'Faith' back home, he'd be ridiculed...after being beaten up.

"Yes sire," I said nervously.

"Strange name, but fitting none the less. Where are you from? Are you from my lands?" I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding and shook my head.

"No Sire...I am from no land in particular. My parents died in battle and I have been travelling all over Middle-Earth ever since..." I said. I wasn't lying … but I wasn't exactly telling the whole truth.

"So you are a traveller? I thought as much, judging by your different clothing and manner of speaking. I should have like to meet your parents; surely they were an honourable pair to bring up such a brave young man. I am sorry for your loss." Theoden said. A pang of nostalgia went through me when I realized he had an uncanny resemblance to my father. In fact, almost everyone here reminded me of someone; it was like I just couldn't escape the memories of what I had lost ... how I had failed.

"As am I for yours," I replied, remembering my manners, "I never had the honour of meeting your son, though I'm sure he was a great man." I said, meeting his eyes. He smiled weakly and I gave an inward sigh, my memory was correct...for once.

"Thank you. Where did you acquire your strange weapon?" He said, changing the subject. I hesitated before answering,

"One of my companions was a master blacksmith. He fashioned it for me, though I am sorry I do not know how to make one. I can show you how to use it if you would like." I said, bowing my head.

"That will not be necessary. I have something to ask of you, would you accompany us to Helm's Deep? That weapon could be useful in the event of an attack."

"Of course you're Majesty." I said, hiding my smile. This had been easier than I had anticipated. Theoden nodded and clapped his hands. I listened in growing anticipation to the sounds of men outside, telling people we were evacuating to Helm's Deep. The thought of the coming battle made my stomach churn, and I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline through my body.

I was going to war...again.

The realization was terrifying. I shook my head, dizziness taking a hold over me. I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and I jumped and turned to see Gandalf. He reminded me of my Grandfather...kind and wise, with a sense of humour to go with it.

"Thank you..." I said quietly. He merely smiled and began steering me with him, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli following. As we drew nearer to the stables, I began getting curious. What did he want with me? I found out when we got into the stables themselves. They were huge, and the smell of hay and horse dung assaulted my nostrils. The smell was sickening but seemed to remind me that this was real ... it was happening ... well, as far as I knew at least. We stopped and Gandalf turned me to face him and the others.

"What is the name of your weapon?" He asked, his wise eyes searching mine. I stared right back into his, wondering whether I should reply truthfully or not.

"It's called a machine-gun." I said, not bothering with the technicalities. Gandalf nodded and smiled gently.

"Such a pity one as young as you has seen so much pain," He said quietly before continuing his journey into the stables. I stood still a few seconds, wondering what the hell had just happened. I seemed to have passed some sort of...test. I thought about this as I followed him and the others, not paying attention to the words spoken.

That had always been a problem of mine, when I'm thinking; everything else sort of...disappears. Leith and Delos would tease me mercilessly for it...what I would give to have them tease me again now. I dismissed the thought, not wanting to fall back into the depression I had grown accustomed to. No, I had to move on and fight; there was no time for grieving.

I jumped out of the way in shock as Gandalf's horse ran towards me, with him astride it. I flattened myself against the wall and tried to control my pounding heart as he shouted a farewell and rode off, south I think.

"Are you alright Milady?" A concerned voice to my right asked. My eyes widened and I roughly slapped a hand over the shocked man's mouth.

"Don't ever call me that in public!" I hissed, looking around the stables to make sure nobody had heard. The last thing I needed was for my cover to be blown. I sighed deeply and dropped my hand, slightly amused at the expression on Aragorn's face.

"I...I apologize...what should I call you?" He stuttered, still looking taken aback.

"Just call me Faith. Not Mr. Faith, not Miss Faith and certainly not Lord Faith...Got that?" I added, peering at the bemused dwarf and elf standing behind Aragorn's tall figure.

"Faith, 'tis a good name." Gimli said before grunting approval and making his way back towards the castle. I smiled in spite of myself and followed, ignoring the open-mouthed looks I was receiving from the other two men. Obviously, they had never met a girl who wouldn't take crap from anyone. Well, before me that is.

"So, when are we to leave to Helm's Deep?" I asked Gimli, easily catching up with him thanks to my long legs.

"Within the hour. You should ask one of the guards to retrieve your weapon before we head out or you might not have time," Gimli said, glancing up at me.

"I will ... thanks for the heads up." The small man paused mid-step and frowned.

"Heads up?" I blinked and mentally kicked myself for being so careless. I had to be careful I didn't rub off on them too much...I mean, you can't very well have the hero's of legends saying stuff like 'Cool' and 'Yo, 'sup'. It would take the edge off things.

"Heads up...it means thank you for warning me." I said absently. We turned and I stood still, in awe of the beauty of the place. "Where is this?" I breathed. Manmade hills were everywhere; each hill was covered in some sort of white flower that smelled like lilies. The place seemed like some sort of graveyard...solemn but beautiful beyond description.

Now I have seen a lot of nice things on my expeditions. I mean, I had seen basically every single country's sites and forests...but nothing could compare to this place. The place felt as though it were buzzing with memories and legends so old that most people had forgotten them...I could almost hear it the whispers of the dead...either that or the constant sound of gunfire had finally taken a toll on my ears. I preferred to believe my first idea.

"It is the royal burial grounds..." Gimli said sombrely, stopping to look as well. I could feel his eyes on me next...like he was searching for something, making sure I could be trusted.

I seemed to pass the test because I then heard his pleasantly gruff voice saying that we should move. I reluctantly pulled myself away and after several minutes of haggling and hassling, found my gun and back-pack safe and sound in a storage room. One of the guards had made a joke about how I was too small to carry it, though he shut up when I gave him my famous mess-with-me-and-you-will-be-sorry look.

I passed Eowyn as I was making my way outside and watched her silently as she wistfully put down the light sword she had been holding while talking with Aragorn. I decided this was the best time to apologies for my earlier behaviour and I approached her cautiously. Never could be too careful when a frustrated woman with a pointy implement was around.

"Lady Eowyn?" I asked quietly, trying to make my voice a little deeper and gruffer so I didn't come off as a nancy boy whose voice hadn't broken yet. She looked around sharply and seemed to tense up a little when she saw it was me. I couldn't blame her, I hadn't exactly been a barrel of laughs the last time I saw her.

"Sir Faith. It is good to see you looking so well." She said hesitantly...she looked as if she half expected me to scold her or something.

"Thank you. I...I wanted to apologize for my rude manner when you approached me earlier, I had no right to take out my ill temper on you," I said, thanking my mum for making me read all those old plays. At least I would sound like I was one of them when I spoke...I couldn't very well start saying 'You wuz up ma boo' in the ancient realms.

"There is no need to apologize, I understand you were upset and I should not have acted so insensitive." She replied, offering me a weak smile. I smiled back and shook my head slightly in disbelief. "Is there something wrong?" She asked, looking wary of me. I realized I must have been staring and I blinked hard.

"No no ... you just remind me of my ... of my friend." I said cursing the way my voice shook slightly. I hoped she hadn't noticed ... and if she had, then she was far better at tact than I was.

"What is she like?" She asked me gently.

"She ... Grace was very unique. Most thought she was weak because she was quite small and looked so ... innocent. I knew better though. She was a warrior, and a brave one at that. She died yesterday fighting for the cause." And I couldn't save her... I added silently, swallowing the lump in the back of my throat. Eowyn looked shocked and rather put out.

"She was a warrior?" Eowyn breathed, looking half horrified and half excited.

"Yes...Why?"

"For the Roherrim, women are not expected to do anything but marry and provide children for her husband..."

"Well that's got to suck..." I said before I could stop my self. "I mean...," I said quickly, noticing the bewildered look that passed across her face. But I didn't get to tell her what I meant because we heard a horn blowing out side, signalling it was time to go.

"We should go now. It was good to talk with you Lady Eowyn, though our conversation was shorter than I would have liked," I said almost snorting at the blush that appeared on her cheeks.

"Maybe we can continue it when we are on the journey," She said, smiling,

"Yes, maybe," I replied before turning away and walking out into the damp morning air. I helped a few of the older women pack load their things onto the various carts, marvelling at the unfamiliar feeling of not being in charge. I had forgotten what it was like, not having to think about when the next meal for you people is going to come ... not having to worry over every persons well being ... not feeling responsible for everyone else's actions ... it was refreshing.

"Can you walk or would you rather ride?" Aragorn asked me as I hauled the last of the food packages onto one of the donkey drawn carts ... give me a truck any day.

"No, I'm fine walking. My shoulder has improved no end," I said, hoping I sounded more convincing than I felt. I may have been in pain, but there was no way I was voluntarily going to ride a horse. Aragron nodded reluctantly before helping Gimli onto a horse which was easily four times his height.

That dwarf had a lot more guts than I did.

As we walked, I mainly stayed at the back, making sure there weren't any stragglers and occasionally scooping up a child and presenting it to its hysterical mother. Normally, I would have used the time to think and relax … but the threat of being attacked by mutant orcs riding on wolves that looked like Britney Spears with rabies was pretty distracting. By the time the sun was in the middle of the sky, I was as tense and alert as I had been when we were sneaking through the fields of Scotland.

Something wasn't right, why had they not attacked yet? I knew that the orcs were bound to attack us on our journey to Helms Deep, because it was one of my favourite stories … about how Aragorn fell off the cliff but staggered back in time for the infamous battle. The question was when this was all going to happen. I wondered if maybe it wouldn't happen because I had killed Wormtongue so maybe Sauron wouldn't be able to know we were headed for Helms deep.

The thought made my stomach twist, because if I had changed something then I might end up changing the outcome of the battle ... not a good idea. I made my way to the front, slipping through the crowd, an expert at seeming invisible. It's very easy to act invisible and I've gotten so good at it, I often have to remind myself that I'm there ... well, almost.

I wondered vaguely if I should perhaps get onto a horse, but I quickly dismissed the idea when I noticed the only one available was at least twice my height and looked meaner than my old history teacher.

"Aragorn!" I called to him, he was talking with Eowyn quietly, trying not to laugh at Gimli who was presently on the floor, shouting,

"I meant to do that! I meant to fall!" Aragron turned looking inquisitive and I speeded up my pace when I noticed two scouts at the front ... it was them who were the first to die.

"Up at the front! ORCS!!!" I yelled, readjusting my gun and loosening my shoulder in preparation for the onslaught. The people around me screamed but were quickly calmed and were on the move while I and the other men rode towards the hills. I ran, struggling to keep on my feet and stubbornly ignoring the pains in my shoulder. The two men at the front easily killed the orc and shouted,

"IT WAS A SCOUT!!!" My breath caught in my throat as I neared the top and saw the terrifying sight of hundreds of those god-awful creatures riding towards us at top speed.

"MOVE OUT AND SURROUND THEM BEFORE ATTACKING! WE CAN'T AFFORD ANY CASUALTIES!!!" I yelled on instinct. The men heeded my orders and did so, the archers shooting first and the guys with swords swiping off the orcs heads like they were cutting up apples. I took decided against using my gun; I needed to save the bullets for the battle in Helms deep. So, instead, I picked up a discarded sword and ran in, waving it around like a mad woman and shouting obscenities. I found that cutting off orc heads was a little harder than it looked, and far messier. As I helped Gimli up from underneath a pile of dead wolf things, I glanced at the cliff nearby. Aragorn and the orc were fighting and were getting closer and closer. It was only then that I realized Aragorn's left arm seemed limp and broken ... without his help, the battle would have been lost. What if me being here changed something and he died because his arm stopped him swimming? What then?

I couldn't let it happen. So I did something that nobody suspected I would do ... something I wouldn't have suspected I would do.

I ran over and pushed Aragron out of the way just in time and tumbled off the cliff myself.