I can't believe it, people are actually praising me! All morning, various men have sidled up to me, congratulated me on how I dealt with the orcs and thanking me for saving their wives. I kept insisting that it was nothing, that we all worked together, that I did no more than anyone else, but they won't listen.

Even Aragorn and Legolas managed to stutter a half-hearted congratulations when we were totally out of sight from everyone else. I suspect that it hurt their pride somewhat, to actually admit that my coming on this journey had a positive conclusion. I expect they'll try and hush it up over the next couple of days. After all, when the stories are written and the songs are sung of this battle… They are not going to want me to appear in them. I expect the legend will just fade away until the women and children just miraculously escaped from the caves.

I don't mind, to tell the truth, I find the attention uncomfortable. The only praise I really appreciated was Mithrandir. I know that he'll always tell me the truth.

"You did well" was all he said as he stared out over the mountain peaks. Those three simple words meant more to me than all the others.

#####################################################################

Éomer came to apologise to me this morning, for accusing me of being a spy.

Well… he was dragged over by Éowyn, who was standing next to him with her dagger pressed to his throat. But it was still an apology.

I think I'll just have to accept that Éomer and I are never going to be the best of friends. I don't really mind that, I'm used to avoiding certain people. It's only Éowyn who wants her beloved brother and best friend to become staunch allies.

Having Éomer around also means that Éothain is always present. At first it was nice to see him again, to thank him for standing up for me etc. But now I'm not so sure, There is a limit to the number of times you can accept flowers from someone whilst keeping a smile on your face. 3 times an hour is pushing it a bit. I'm also getting sick of telling him that I'm fine, and that there is really nothing he can do to make me more comfortable. I'm wondering about writing that last line on a piece of paper and holding it up every time he approaches. Would save my voice perhaps, but it seems a bit mean. After all, he's only trying to be nice. I'm beginning to realise why Arwen hid from her suitors.

#####################################################################

They've all headed off towards Isengard. Apparently Saruman has been locked up in his tower by the Ents. I'd love to go, I've never seen an Ent, but Mithrandir tactfully insisted that I would be more use here, especially as they were riding to Isengard, and even he has to admit that my experience with horses is not particularly… encouraging.

In the meanwhile, we've got to fix up some sort of temporary accommodation for everyone left behind. Helms Deep is in a bad way, with orc bodies littering every corridor. It's not very nice sitting in a corner with a gradually decomposing orc corpse by your side. We did start clearing them out, but it was the foulest job imaginable. Removing disembodied limbs, scrubbing at black blood stains and dealing with disembowelled guts was nauseating. Everyone was supposed to take turns at "Orc Duty", and no matter how hard I tried to get out of it, someone always found me to pointedly remind that I was supposed to be dragging corpses away to be burnt.

Éothain came over at that moment and asked if there was anything he could do for me. I told him he could take over my stint at "Orc Duty." He actually did it! I couldn't believe it!

Still, I'm looking forward till the remains of the fellowship come back, maybe then we'll decide what's going to happen next. For the moment, I'm stuck with the women and children. They'd better not put me in the catering department next, or the entire camp will suffer from food poisoning!

#####################################################################

I'm absolutely fed up of putting up tents. I've lost count of the number of pegs I've banged into the ground, my hands are red, raw and covered in blisters. I've got aching muscles and loads of bruises on my forehead from so many collapsing poles.

The white tents now cover the entire field, a movable refugee village for the people of Rohan. I spend most of my time in the women and children section with Éowyn. Helm's Deep is really starting to smell, so we've abandoned it and we're all living in a field. The worst bit is definitely the mud, especially on the routes used most often. The track to the privy is like wading through an oozing river. The food is pretty awful as well, we have to line up for hours in order to get a bowl of mush, that could be anything. To tell the truth,. I'm sick of this waiting - I think most people are. I would much rather be doing something constructive. I sound like Éowyn now, everyday she pleads to be allowed to fight, everyday she returns back to our side of the camp to sulk. And when she'd not sulking, she's talking about Aragorn!

Alright, perhaps that's an exaggeration, but this tense atmosphere means that you notice things other people do that get on your nerves.

#####################################################################

Éowyn insisted that I keep training with a sword and horse. She constantly reminds me that battle is not far away, and I must be prepared to fight. The sword is getting easier to use now. It still feels incredibly heavy, but it more or less goes where I want it to. I haven't been able to beat Éowyn in a match, but she's having to work a little harder at defending now. To tell the truth, I'm not particularly looking forward to using these new skills in battle. I still remember the sound of a blade cutting into flesh when I impulsively attacked those orcs surrounding Boromir. I don't ever want to have to do it again unless I have to. I really don't like it.

#####################################################################

I've decided that I hate little children. They're always running about under your feet, tripping you up, then they have the cheek to squeal when you stand on them by accident.

It's not all one way, they hate me too. Éowyn was rocking this baby to sleep this morning, she turned to solve another woman's problem and gave the baby to me. As soon as it touched my arms, it woke up and started to scream. I held the thrashing red bundle out to Éowyn, but she said she was busy, and could I sort it out. I didn't even know how to hold the thing. It was moving so much, I nearly dropped it. I ended up awkwardly trying to keep its arms and legs from attacking my face, and trying to stop it falling to the floor. Éowyn rescued me eventually, taking the baby with a laugh. As soon as she picked it up, it fell silent and snuggled peacefully into the nape of her neck.

"You just need more practise" she insisted as I complained, "Here, give this little girl a cuddle, she's not feeling too good." The girl in question sat awkwardly on the very edge of my knee for a few minutes, turning gradually greener and greener. Suddenly she turned to face me

"I think I'm going to be…" she gasped, and she was. Sick all over me.

Éowyn wouldn't let me give up that easily, oh no. She loves spending time in the nursery, she was determined that I should enjoy it too. She forced me to sit down in the middle of a large tent and placed various noisy, squirming bundles all around me.

"Entertain them" she cried, "You'll enjoy it once you get started.

"How" I protested, my head jerking backwards as one of them decided to swing on my hair.

"I don't know, sing to them or something" she continued, then turned to the little group she had gathered for herself.

Sing? I thought wryly as I tried to prise the sticky little fingers off my hair. She must be joking? Still, I had to do something, or I wouldn't have any hair left stuck to my head.

So I started to sing softly, the story of Lúthien and Beren. Perhaps it wasn't the most cheerful story for young children, but I reasoned that they wouldn't be able to understand the elvish anyway. It seemed to be working, they all fell silent and the tugging on my hair stopped. My confidence grew, and I sang a little louder.

Then I realised that they were silent, because they were all staring at me with horrified expressions. Then suddenly, great gaping holes appeared in the middle of their faces and they began to scream in unison. I sang a little louder above the noise, and the next thing I knew, Éowyn was at my side, her hands over her ears.

"What's that awful noise?" she cried, then her eyes opened wider as she realised.

"Stop!" she insisted. "Alright, I give in, we'll leave the nursery alone for a bit, I know you hate it, I'll do anything… Just, don't sing!"

#####################################################################

My brothers have arrived! I'm over the moon, it seems like ages since I last saw them. They turned up with a party of Rangers, totally unexpected, but very welcome. Elladan gave me a big hug when he saw me.

"Good work with the women and children" he whispered in my ear. I looked at him, puzzled. How did he know?

"News travels fast" he replied, smiling at my puzzled face.

"Especially good news" Elrohir chipped in, ruffling my hair. "Well done Little Sis."

I was so happy, I didn't even mind when Éothain came up with yet another bunch of flowers.

Éowyn spent most of the evening following Aragorn around, I think she was begging him to let her fight, but from the expression on her face at the moment, I expect the answer is still no.

#####################################################################

"Sardwen?" a voice asked softly from behind me. I turned quickly to see Glorfindel standing there, smiling.

"What are you doing here?" I asked in surprise

"We came from Imladris with your brothers" he replied.

"We?" I asked, wondering who else was going to turn up out of the woodwork. Glorfindel pointed at a dark haired elf who was busy talking to Elrohir. I could only see the back of his head, but he didn't look familiar.

"So, how are things going at home?" I asked, not sure if I wanted to hear. "Did my father..." I trailed off. I wanted to know if he'd sent a message. But if he hadn't bothered, I didn't want to know. I was in too good a mood to be disappointed.

Glorfindel smiled at me knowingly.

"It's alright, you can ask. Your father did send a message." I let out my breath with a smile.

"What did he say?" I asked eagerly. Glorfindel grinned and raised one finger to his forehead.

"Now let me think" he teased. "I can't quite remember" I laughed and hit him on the arm playfully.

"Tell me!" I insisted. "Don't keep me in suspense." He rubbed his arm, laughter still sparkling in his eyes.

"Ouch, I can't think for the pain now." he grinned, "Maybe I'll remember if you kiss it better." I stared at him incredulously.

"I'd rather kiss a cave troll" I retorted. "If you won't tell me what Daddy said, then maybe my brothers will." I turned to find them.

"Alright, you win." He grabbed my arm to turn me round. I shook him off and waited, arms folded impatiently for the news.

"He said he was really proud of you." Glorfindel reported cheerfully. "He heard how you saved the women and children of Rohan, he told me to congratulate your quick thinking and bravery." I stared at the ground, thankful that my long hair covered my face. Daddy was proud of me! I bit my lip to keep my grin from spreading. I even felt tears prickling in my eyes and blinked quickly. After all these years of trying to do something to please him, I'd finally succeeded. Daddy was proud of me!!

"…He also said he didn't think your luck would hold out any longer, and to get away from here quickly before you muck everything up." Glorfindel continued with the message reluctantly. I laughed. That sounded much more like Daddy. Still, I hadn't mucked things up too badly yet, there was still hope.

"Did my sister say anything?" I asked, half-dreading the answer.

"Yeees" Glorfindel replied warily.

"What?"

"Do you really want to know?"

I assured him that nothing she could say would shock me now, and braced myself for the message.

"Well, she screamed that she hated your guts, and hoped the orcs would finish you off." he reported apologetically. I blinked a couple of times and grinned. That sounded familiar.

"Anything else?" I asked ironically.

"Just… she said if you let Aragorn die, she'll kill you."

"That's if the orcs haven't done it already?" I questioned with a smile. It was strange, if Arwen had sent me a message like that before, I would have got really upset. But now, I didn't really care. I pitied her to be honest. I pictured her cooped up in Imladris, with no one to throw things at, whilst I was enjoying myself here. I knew what I would prefer!

#####################################################################

One last surprise visitor!

I was waiting in the long, winding food queue when someone stopped next to me, stared at my face for a moment, and gaped in astonishment.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. I gazed at him blankly. It was the dark haired elf I'd seen talking to Elrohir earlier. But his face… it seemed vaguely familiar.

"Don't you recognise me?" he asked. Suddenly I remembered the voice.

"Niralan?" I asked incredulously, and he nodded with a smile.

I couldn't believe it. Niralan had been one of my closest friends when I was younger, but I hadn't seen him since he stormed out of Imladris after a particularly nasty argument with Arwen.

I eagerly asked him where he had been, what he had been doing. He wanted to know what I had been up to. He already knew about Helms Deep. (Who didn't by now?)

The gap between me and the person in the queue in front began to widen. The man behind me coughed surreptitiously, I didn't notice. He coughed again, louder this time. When I still didn't move, he snorted rudely, pushed me against the canvas of the nearest tent and stormed past to join the rest of the queue. The line followed him, and I realised I would have to start queuing from the end again. I wasn't too annoyed, at least I had someone to talk to now. Niralan thinks we're moving on tomorrow. At last! After all this time waiting, things are about to start happening.