A/N: School has been like a really tiring, excruciating, patience-eroding hell, but I'm probably not telling you anything you didn't already know. I didn't get a lot of reviews for the last chapter, which makes me sort of sad. I console myself with the thought that a lot of you are probably just as busy as I am, and so you didn't review because you didn't have time and not because you didn't like it. (I also console myself with the expectation that I'm going to get more reviews this time, to make up for the last one…HINT HINT.) I'm in full IB, so I have to write this extended essay. I'm doing mine in history, and if anyone needs to know anything about Irish separatism from 1886 to 1920, I am officially the person to ask. …I doubt any of you will take me up on this offer, but keep it in mind, because you never know.

Disclaimers: I'm actually working on the whole owning LotR thing right now, so if anyone wants to lend me a bazillion dollars and a retinue of lawyers, please let me know.

Chapter 22: Victory at Helm's Deep . . .

Meanwhile, back at Helm's Deep, Theoden had successfully led his countrymen deep into the stronghold and barricaded all the exits. So now they're trapped. Forever. Good job, Theoden.

So, how are the women and children holding up?

"As best they can, under these circumstances," Aragorn answered diplomatically. He and Legolas and Gimli were going around trying to raise the spirits of the people, but things were so grim that it would take way more than a pep rally to ever cheer them up again.

And how's Legolas holding up? He hasn't seen a brush or a bar of soap for what, four or five days now? Is he going to be alright, I asked with mock concern.

"It is a siege, Ring. I can cope. My life does not depend on looking perfect every second of the day," Legolas said from the other end of the keep. To emphasize this point, he flipped his luxuriant hair over his shoulder, smoothed it down, and then buffed his nails on his tunic.

Right. You know, I'll never understand how you can put up with Aragorn here. This guy hasn't showered for, what is it, six months now?

"I have too showered," Aragorn protested.

Yeah, showers in Orc blood don't count. In order for it to be considered a shower, it has to actually get you clean.

"Perhaps, but the Orc blood attracts Legolas. It acts as a cologne, or an aphrodisiac."

And why exactly are you telling me this?

"I have no idea."

Yeah, that's too much information right there. You really need to get some sleep. Or maybe you need to get some…something else. You guys have gone five whole days without having sex, and I didn't even think it was possible for you to go five hours.

"Ring! There are children present!" Legolas gasped, looking very scandalized.

"Can we talk about something else?" Aragorn asked. "I do not need to be reminded about how long it has been since I've…gotten some. …How about plans for the future? We cannot stay here indefinitely. Supplies shall run out long before the Orcs do."

Yeah…so maybe caving yourself in here isn't such a great idea in the long run. You see why you have no allies, Theoden? Because you're stupid. Stupid and cocky, and no one wants an ally like that.

Aragorn sighed. "Will you please stop baiting him, Ring? You may leave whenever you like, but the rest of us are stuck living with him. Besides, he is a king. He deserves your respect."

He doesn't deserve shit, but I do feel sorry for the rest of you. Being stuck with him? Ugh. Can't imagine. Isn't there anywhere else you could go?

Aragorn brooded. And then he brightened. "Actually, that is a pretty good idea. Is there anywhere else the women and children can go?" he asked Theoden.

"The mountains," Theoden replied after a moment's consideration. "But there is only one way to get there, and it is far too risky."

"We have little choice but to risk it," Aragorn said. "Send word for women and children to make for the mountain pass."

Theoden shook his head. "It is hopeless." He gave a great, bleak, heaving sigh. "Sauron has unleashed so much hate. What can Man do against such reckless hate?" He looked straight at Aragorn, and there was nothing but depthless hollows in his eyes.

Oh great, the guy's gone catatonic. You picked a fantastic time to crack under pressure—you know, right around the time your people need you?

The loud BANG of an Orcish battering-ram hitting the doors of the keep echoed through the hold. Children whimpered in fear while their mothers tried without success to hush them. One started bawling.

BANG! went the battering-ram once more. There was the soft, yet distinct and horrifying sound of hard wood beginning to yield.

Aragorn listened to it with gritted teeth.

BANG!

Aragorn drew his sword. "Ride out with me," he said to Theoden. "We shall meet them."

Oh, not you too! Are you guys claustrophobic or something? Is that why you're going insane? You want to ride out and meet all gazillion of them?

"For death and glory," Theoden agreed. His eyes met with Aragorn's, and they shared a manly nod.

Oh great, now they're on the same wavelength.

"For Rohan," Aragorn affirmed. "For your people."

Hey, Legolas? Gimli? Are you guys listening to this? Can't you do something to stop this madness?

"Actually," Gimli said, "I'm starting to get tired of sitting around, waiting to be beaten. I too think we should go out and meet the Uruk. If we're goin' down, we must take them down with us."

I never thought I would say this, but Legolas? You're the last sane person left. Do something.

"Oh, but Ring, you know I could never say no to an opportunity for killing Orcs."

They rounded up a few of the Riders of Rohan who had also gone crazy from cabin fever, and they got their horses ready to ride out.

Guys, you cannot be serious. You're just gonna throw your lives away like this? Who's gonna defend these people when you're all dead? Who's gonna lead Gondor, or Mirkwood, or the dwarves? You have RESPONSIBILITIES—you can't just go get yourselves killed for fun! And what about me? You owe me! Who's gonna help me find a way to not get thrown into Mount Doom, huh? HUH?

They ignored my protests. The doors to the keep finally gave under all that battering, but instead of re-barricading the entrance, they let it fall open all the way.

Oh my god, look how many of them there are. They look like a carpet of ants.

The handful of crazy men let out loud war cries and rode out to meet them. They rode through the stone gangway, swords flashing, picking off Uruk-hais left and right. By sheer chance, no one was injured. Yet.

Look, you're lucky to still be alive. Why don't you quit while you're ahead and just ride on back where you came from?

Legolas paused in his methodical slaughter. "Aww, the Ring is worried for our safety," he cooed.

Okay, you know what? Fuck you. Go ahead—die. Whatever.

"Ring," Aragorn grunted while pulling his sword out of the gnarled, broken body of what used to be a Uruk, "I know you think me insane—"

Because you are.

"—however, even I would not needlessly risk the lives of my friends and comrades for a completely hopeless battle."

Okay, then what do you call this, if not 'completely hopeless'? I cast my RingVision over the thousands upon thousands of Uruk-Hai and Orcs, armed from head to foot, and—hey, what's that glow?

Aragorn grinned. "That, my dear sceptic, is Gandalf. More precisely, it is Gandalf with 2000 much-needed Riders of Rohan."

I looked. So it was. He really did manage to rustle up 1950 more Riders than I remembered seeing.

The new warriors joined in the fray. They were at a decided advantage, what with the fact that they were fresh while the Uruks had been fighting for five days straight. Plus, they had me, providing them with helpful insider information, such as the weak spots in Orc armour, etc.

Pretty soon, the tide of the battle began to turn. The Uruks and Orcs were going down. The ones who were still alive fled, leaving Helm's Deep in bloody rubble, but leaving Helm's Deep nonetheless.

"VICTORY!" The men of Rohan roared in delight.

Theoden clasped Eomer's hand and apologized for being an ass.

So, I said conversationally to Aragorn, Eomer is apparently a way better person than I am—I would've personally told the king to go fuck himself if he had treated me like that, and then came crawling to beg for my help later.

"You have told the king to go fuck himself. Many a time," Aragorn pointed out.

Yeah, well, like I said. I'm not above that. Hey, you know, you put a lot of trust in Gandalf back there, leading everyone into battle on the assumption he'll keep his word. He doesn't always keep his word…case in point, ME. He hasn't kept his word on matters concerning ME NOT DYING.

"In his defence, he has been rather busy," Aragorn pointed out mildly.

Yeah, like the rest of us aren't busy; like what he does is so much more important than what we do; like he's the only one that counts.

Aragorn carefully cleaned the gunk off his sword while switching the subject. "How have you been doing, anyway? How is everyone over on your front of the war?"

Not. Good. I'm saddled up with Frodo, who's slowly going crazy, Sam, whose hands migrate closer and closer to Frodo's bathing suit area with each passing day, and Gollum, who's ugly. Plus, I've made a deal with Faramir, and now I can't make fun of Boromir anymore, and that was one of my only forms of entertainment. No one has come up with a plan to save me yet, so we're at a stalemate there—they all agree they should save me, but no one wants to go the extra mile and actually save me.

"At least you're all still alive," Aragorn said, looking on the bright side of things.

Yeah, well, if something isn't done soon, maybe you won't have to think of a plan to save me after all. Maybe I'll just KILL MYSELF.

"What have we been talking about?" Legolas inquired, prancing over after having cleaned all the blood out from under his fingernails.

"The Ring was just having a minor freak-out, my darling snookum wookums," Aragorn said, putting his arm around Legolas's waist. "I think he just needed to get it out of his system."

I think I just need someone to get his head out of his ass and NOT KILL ME. I think I just need to not be in mortal fear of my life every twenty minutes. I think Sam just needs to stop insinuating that I'm evil, when everyone plainly knows I'm not. I think I just need people to stop targeting me. I think I just need—oh my god, I think you guys need to stop having clothed sex right here in front of everyone. Jesus! I think I need therapy.

Aragorn ripped his face away from Legolas's with some amount of force. "Sorry," he panted. "Legolas and I are going to find a quiet corner for our traditional post-battle celebrations."

And because I really didn't want to know, there was little else for me to do but go back to my own situation.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . TBC

ps- Hey, I just noticed that I'm really, really close to the end of Part II! I think this might end in…oh, say two more chapters. Wow. And I never thought I would make it this far.