Morwen entered the dining hall and stopped, her eyes wandering over the various people that were talking, eating, or aimlessly wandering about. Her eyes stopped on a person at a table towards the front of the hall, near the King's throne. He was short in stature, with dark reddish-brown hair and a beard; he also had an axe at his side, resting on the empty bench space beside him. Morwen smiled to herself, and walked up to the man.
"Hello friend." She said, moving so that she was facing him. The man looked up, and offered her a smile through his thick beard.
"Morwen, lass! I didn't think I'd be seeing you for some time. How are you?" Morwen sat down across from her friend.
"I am fine, Gimli. Though I wish I could say the same for my parents. My party and I found them dead on the way here." She explained, her voice wavering ever so slightly when she said the word "dead". Gimli bowed his head.
"My condolences, Morwen. That isn't a good way to learn a person's fate." He said. Morwen forced a smile, even though she'd rather have just sat in a corner and brooded for a while. She had to admit that Gimli was right: She would have rather found out from someone than having to look upon her mother and father's bodies herself.
"So," Morwen continued, trying to force the conversation down a different road. "What have you been up to since I last saw you?" Gimli grunted.
"Ah, so you want a story do you? Well, I'll give you the summarized version of it. I've spent the last two ruddy months with four mischievous halflings, a grumpy old wizard, a Ranger, a Gondorian obsessed-and I mean obsessed- with his home, and a skipping, gibberish speaking, tree-hugging-" Gimli stopped a moment to shudder, "-Elf." He made a distinct noise of disgust, though Morwen thought that it sounded a bit over exaggerated.
"Oh dear," She said in a voice of mock distress. "How ever did you survive?" Gimli grimaced.
"Oh, sure, make fun of me now. But honestly, he's a royal pain when he wants to be. If you'd ever been with an elf, you'd know." Now it was Morwen's turn to grimace.
"Oh, believe me, I know. There was an elf traveling with us on our way here. She's around here somewhere, though I really don't want to know where. I'm not sure what I did, but for some reason she just seems to detest me. Honestly, I've hardly said to words to the woman and she's trying to tear my throat out at every turn!" She said. Gimli chuckled.
"See? Traveling with elves is fun, isn't it?"
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Speaking of Idrial and Legolas, coincidentally, the two of them were about to meet. Idrial was met by a golden opportunity the second she entered Helms Deep; to get the Cuma (Elvish for Hell) away from Berethor, Elegost and Hadhod- the only three people she's been around for the past few months. And frankly, they were driving her insane.
Elegost was always playing with that damned bowstring of his, and making the most annoying noise that Idrial had heard in two thousand and forty-three years of life. Then there was Hadhod, who snored when he slept and kept her up all night; Thank the Valar that Elves go quite long without sleep. And then there was Berethor. To put it bluntly, he disgusted her- ogling over Morwen like a love-struck puppy.
Due to her extensive pride, if you had asked Idrial directly it's likely she would have denied that she was rather jealous. She was all too aware that Berethor had been infatuated with her before Morwen came along, and she had reflected his feelings. Berethor was a brave, confident, well-mannered man: Who wouldn't enjoy those qualities in a man? And it's not like she wasn't subtle; she had even kissed the man after he saved her in Moria, for the sake of the Valar!
But no- he had to fall in love with a member of his own species, and frankly, it was breaking her heart. That twit; Idrial had a sneaking suspicion that Morwen wasn't even interested in him. He was virtually wasting his time, and the thought of that offered her a bit of comfort. She couldn't wait to see Morwen turn him down- then Idrial's day would be complete.
The lady elf was walking along the top of the protective wall of Helms Deep, passing soldiers placed at their stations every fifteen feet or so. Up ahead, she saw a something platform attached to the wall that jutted out over the area outside of Helms Deep, with high walls surrounding it. She walked up to see if there might be a view or something, and stopped in her tracks.
Staring out into the mountain range was an elf. Idrial was surprised by this fact alone, seeing as she had thought that she was the only elf in Helms Deep. The thing that really made her halt was that she had seen this elf before; briefly, yes, but she had. He was Legolas, Son of Thranduil and Prince of Mirkwood. Idrial had seen him briefly in Lothlorien with his father some four hundred years ago.
She turned to leave, wishing to give Legolas his privacy as he was clearly in deep thought, but stopped when he turned to face her. Idrial then realized that he had probably heard her coming a mile off, and not turned around until her heard her stop.
"Hello," He said placidly.
"Greetings, Prince Legolas." Idrial said, politely bowing at the waist to him. Legolas returned the bow, and then straightened back up. "It is a privilege to fight alongside you." She continued. Legolas smiled lightly.
"Your words honor me, my lady. You seem to know me, although I do not know you. What is your name?" He asked.
"Idrial, of Lothlorien. I arrived here with a party of humans and a dwarf only about two hours ago." Idrial stated. Legolas' smile turned grim.
"Then I fear you have come at a dark time, Idrial. A battle is upon us, and I fear it may not be a battle at all: only a massacre." The Prince's voice was sad, and Idrial felt a vague stab of doubt hit her about the stability of Helms Deep. All fortresses could be breached over time- whether from destruction or surrender. If the Uruk-Hai and Orcs decided to fight and siege Helms Deep, then they were all doomed. According to her sources, Idrial was told that there was no other way out of Helms Deep.
"You do not believe there is any hope?" She asked. Legolas paused for a moment, thinking. Then he mournfully shook his head.
"No. I do not believe there is hope." He briefly looked out into the mountains again, as though expecting the Uruk-Hai army to come marching through right then. Then he turned back and looked Idrial in the eye. "Theodan's army is little more than farmers, merchants and stable boys. Many of his men were killed in an ambush on the way here; Orcs riding Wargs took us unaware in the mountains." Idrial nodded.
"We found evidence of a battle a little while before we reached Helms Deep. Unfortunately, not all of the Wargs had quite left the battle field yet." She smarted at the memory of about five Wargs descending from a nearby hill and attacking them. That little battle had not been pleasant.
"Theodan now looks for as many villagers as possible to fight. He even pulls children out of the caves to fight in the battle: I saw one child earlier who couldn't have been more than twelve years of age." Idrial's eyes narrowed.
"Why draft a child to fight when they don't know how? What will that accomplish?" She asked, sorrow for the young boys that had to fight was evident in her tone. Legolas shook his head, equally depressed.
"I do not know. I suppose Theodan thinks that if he has enough people fighting, he'll be as dangerous as the Uruk-Hai and the Orcs." He shook his head again and turned again to the mountains. Idrial hesitantly stepped up next to him and also looked out. Under different circumstances, she would have viewed the mountains as beautiful, and even a bit romantic (The word romance burned a bit when she thought about it). But now, as the sun began to set, they looked ominous, foreboding and menacing.
"What do you think?" Legolas asked, moving slightly so that their eyes met again. "Do you believe there is hope for us all?" Idrial thought for a moment, weighing all of the factors in her mind.
"As long as there is life," She said. "I believe there is hope." Legolas smiled. Suddenly, the mountains didn't seem so foreboding anymore.
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Hadhod and Elegost ended up walking through the camps in the inner courtyards of the fortress, anxious of the battle ahead.
"'Tis going to be a bloody night, Ranger, mark me. Saruman looks for blood; the blood of Rohan and its people." He thought for a moment, and then added: "Come to think of it, it's going to be something of a long night as well." Elegost nodded in agreement.
"There is talk of some thousand Uruk-Hai marching here. We'll be lucky to escape with our lives." He said, pulling on the string of his bow. Without realizing it, he was doing the exact thing that drove Idrial nuts. Hadhod snorted.
"Escape? Laddie, there is no escape from this fortress. We're pressed up against a mountain and, unless you're a spirit and can pass through solid rock, I have been unable to locate an alternate escape route. So I would take a wild guess that if we do not keep the enemy from the inner walls of the castle, this place shall become our tomb." Hadhod said bitterly.
"Yes. What kind of fool would build a castle into a mountain side?" Elegost asked. Hadhod stopped walking and looked at Elegost through slit-thin eyes.
"My people helped build this castle, Ranger." Elegost stopped dead, and then thought about that for a moment and tried to think up a good cover.
"Well-ah- well- well you know I don't mean that you're an fool, Hadhod, or any of your people, I just, I, um-" For the first time Elegost could remember in a good, long time, he was at a loss for words. He hadn't meant to insult Hadhod, and he made a mental note to (if he survived the night) read up on absolutely every fortress in Middle Earth that the Dwarves had helped create so as to avoid this situation again. But Hadhod then surprised his friend by laughing.
"Relax, Elegost, relax- I was only joking. Come to think of it, it is rather stupid to build a fortress into the side of a ruddy mountain, isn't it?" Elegost made eye contact with Hadhod, just to make sure everything was all right. Hadhod had a mischievous smirk on and a gleam in his eye. He had truly been joking when he had acted offended.
After a minute, Elegost saw the humor in it, and chuckled. Then the chuckle became a guffaw, which changed into an out-right laugh. Hadhod joined in, and they both laughed like fools, attracting the attention of everyone around.
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READ THIS: Okay people, here's the scoop- I haven't managed to get past the battle at Helms Deep in The Third Age game, so I really don't know what happens next. If anyone out there has finished the game, or knows someone who finished the game, could you tell me what happen so that I can continue?