Miscellaneous
Pairings: There are book pairings.
Events: This fiction is also one that will follow the end of the trilogy (from 'Riders of Rohan' onward) through the end of the 'Return of the King', but will hopefully go in a different direction from there. At most, there will be 20 chapters from the original story, and hopefully another 5 to follow, unless one of us gets ambitious enough to continue on. Otherwise, we will likely leave the story where it already ends. This story follows the path of Rohan through the events of the books.
Disclaimer: J.R.R. Tolkien owns 'The Lord of the Rings' book series. Joss Whedon controls the world of Buffy. Peter Jackson and company own "The Lord of the Rings' films. We only own a part of the plot.
Summary: Buffy is summoned to fulfill an oath before she can rest in peace.
Chapter Summary: The first of the great battles of Buffy's time in Middle-earth is about to be fought as she sees how desperate this world really has become.
Chapter Warning: This is the chapter we have all come to know and love, the Helm's Deep chapter. I have stuck pretty damned close to the book in the case that I didn't want the Elves to show up (even though there is one Elf that is swoon-worthy). Alas, no. The Elves will come into the story at a far later time.
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Chapter 8
Helm's Deep
By Katrina Claire
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The Deeping Wall was a grand wall, twenty feet high and currently being paced about by Éomer, who was gazing out at the blank fields below.
The enemy was still hours away, but it was nearing midnight. There were still no stars or moon above to give them any hope that this black night was over. Nor was there any word on the fate of over one hundred soldiers unaccounted for. The last that the scouts now riding back out had heard was that they had gone to the path on the eastern side, where rocks rose above the bank and a path would lead the others to safety. There was no doubt that the riders had been ambushed there.
They had their own borders to look after. The women and children had been hastened down to the caves. Théoden had called both Aragorn and Éomer forward and had explained his plan on how to defend the Keep.
Little did they know that the defense of Helm's Deep was already underway, in a small passage where the rocks overrode the banks, where the wolves of Isengard had come to pass.
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There were only ten of these riders that entered. At first sight, Buffy couldn't understand why these men had called the creatures wolves. They looked more like hairy little half-dinosaurs to her. They snarled and spat and pawed at the ground, occasionally sinking their heads down only to return moments later with flesh in their toothy mouths. They were obviously carnivorous and craved blood, much like the vampires did. Although they were quite a bit different in size and ferocity, Buffy knew how to fight vampires, and these things that looked more like something from a live-action Disney flick.
Orcs rode upon their backs, holding torches and making careful steps up the rocky ford. From the looks on their faces, Buffy figured they thought the entire cavern was clear and that the bodies under their feet were the bodies of the dead Rohirrim. Revolted, Buffy held her crossbow in hand, and saw many other archers bending down to light their arrows aflame.
She waited until the entire path was filled with Orcs before she shouted, once again, "Now!"
If ever there was a day in hell she could have lived, it was this. There was instant chaos as over a hundred flaming arrows shot into Orc and beast alike. After the second volley was released, half of the men, Buffy included with a triumphant, "Charge!" burst down upon them, beating them into the walls.
She had chosen one of the battle axes for this assault, as she had taken it to look very much like the scythe she had used in her final battle with the First. She fought every last foe with the same strength she had used to fight off hundred of Turok-han. Her axe flew gracefully in the air, as did many other axes and swords. Flaming arrows were showering down upon them once again. She took her axe and knocked one of the Orc from his position before neatly cleaving off the head of the offensive wolf, which revealed a malodorous stench that made her stomach whirl. Spinning about, she jammed the blunt edge of the axe into the Orc spluttering at her feet. As it died, its eyes met hers. The message was loud and clear: We stop for nothing.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the young lieutenant being knocked into the rocky wall. As the wolf settled in its final attack on its prey, a figure leapt before it with a snarl. The woman stood above him, her sword and the axe flying with practiced use. The wolf was soon knocked aside and the Orc was taken down by an arrow shot above her head. Buffy glanced up to see the captain of the departing company give a firm nod.
She returned it, mouthing 'thanks' before she returned to the fight.
It didn't last as long as they thought it would. The point was that most of the enemy had now crossed the Coomb and no longer needed the use of the small hidden path through the mountains. They wouldn't be able to reach the Keep alive if they held this position much longer, and it was likely that the enemy would soon send stronger numbers through this hold. They would soon scout their location, since it was pretty obvious that some sort of massacre had happened when they realized their rearguard hadn't shown up as expected.
They had done all they could, and that was to ensure fifty people get to safety. She turned back to the men, who stared at her in somewhat grudging respect. Their first skirmish had gone quite well, despite the fact they had been led by a woman they knew nothing about and one they believed had no previous experience in such matters. She had proved them wrong in the space of an hour, or just under.
She threw the sword aside. A grim smile appeared on her face as she addressed them once more. "Get to Helm's Deep," she commanded, her voice echoing loudly. "Stay to the hills… just make sure you get there alive. You're needed there more." She turned and glanced at the path they had held for hours now.
The horses were brought out and one was brought to her. Buffy had been walking with only two others among the pile of carcasses, making sure they were all truly dead. It was then she spied something in the hands of an Orc. Bending down, she picked it up. It was a horn, and with it was the printing of a great horse set in green. Her jaw set, Buffy turned to the two men standing there. One of them was the injured lieutenant, who looked upon her as though he would look upon his Marshal.
"Here," she said, marching forward and handing it to him. "Follow those men and take this. See that it goes to the King."
"Are you not coming?" he asked her as he gathered his things. He watched her do the same. Firelight flickered across her face.
"I will," she said at last. This word was good enough for him, and he turned his horse and fled down the pass. Gathering what weapons she could, she walked to a brown horse which snorted and pranced over the bodies it stood on. Buffy touched his armored nose and sighed, resting her face against his deep mane. Now that she had sent back the remaining Rohirrim, it was now pretty clear she wasn't going to just ride back. If there had been one thing life had taught her, it was to take nothing for granted.
Now that she was covered from head to toe in weaponry, she rose, jamming the helmet back on her head. Grasping her battle axe in her left hand, she rode out with her right. Instead of heading due south towards Helm's Deep, she rode east, a sole rider darting across the plain.
When the riders who had gone into this skirmish with her saw that she was riding away from the Keep, many exchanged a look before turning their horses back. They saw her torch burning across the sky, and soon the plain was filled with a hundred torches, all burning brightly as the archers set up on horseback, lifting their bows expertly.
The young lieutenant blew into the horn, and a distant sound rang out into the Hornburg.
Buffy rode back and glared at the young man blowing into his horn, but he wouldn't look at her as he set the instrument back at his belt before lifting his own bow. "What are you doing? Get out of here!"
"You led us and it is not the time we abandon those who lead well," he replied, steadying his horse next to her. "We may not know who you are, but you have defeated our foes and for this… we could not abandon thee."
Buffy just rolled her eyes as she made ready her own arrow.
"My lord, look!" a voice cried. The three men in counsel ran along the Deeping Wall and saw a long line of men stretching across the valley.
Buffy hesitated for only a moment before raising her own bow. "Fire!" she cried out.
At once, hundreds of fiery arrows pierced the darkness, followed by a second shower, and soon a third. After the first few lines had fallen, she spun around. "Fall back!" she screamed. "Fall back!"
As one long line, the horses started falling back, out of the range of the arrows shot by the front lines of the incoming force. Once they had come to a safe distance, she turned again, as did all of the others. They did this twice more until they realized it would be better off to head up the ramp and through the gates than waste more arrows and precious time fighting off an incoming force the size of the population of Texas. Lowering her bow, she shouted, "To the Keep! Go! To the Keep!"
The horses all turned and started up the ramp, thundering into the Hornburg. Once the last one was inside, the gates were sealed. Buffy leapt off of her horse, throwing her bow over her shoulder where it rested with her shield. She carried the axe in one hand and the crossbow in the other.
The horses were quickly stowed away, and the men were dispersed to their new locations. The young lieutenant hesitated for but a moment before handing Buffy the horn. "This belongs with you. Without you, we never would have scored such a victory against a much larger enemy."
Buffy grasped the horn and the man's hand before he was sent away. She turned and saw the rear guards already barring the gate. After hanging the horn from her belt, she turned and headed up the stairs, hopeful to find Théoden.
Pulling off her helmet, she shook out her long hair and sighed, dropping it onto the ground, along with her entire score of weaponry. She longed nothing more than to just sleep for the next hundred years, but she knew that this battle was going to happen tonight, whether she liked it or not. She lifted the axe and carried it in her hand as she walked along the wall.
She didn't expect to see the Elf and the Dwarf staring at her as she approached.
"Have you seen the King?" she asked casually.
"We thought you dead," Legolas said, staring at her appearance. She was bleeding from the lip, and her eye continued to blacken. "Your mare returned with no rider."
Buffy gave an impatient snort and strode by both of them. If they were going to treat her like some ghost, they weren't worth her time.
It was in the Keep that she found the King. She burst through the doors with such energy that all three men turned to look at her in surprise.
"Where do you want me?" she asked, twirling the axe in her hands.
Not one of them spoke. Buffy sighed and gripped her axe tightly as she turned back. "Okay, I'll just go find a spot and get cozy."
She found a spot near Legolas and Gimli on the Deeping Wall. With her came an escort of riders who had followed her into the side-battle. They carried her weapons and then discarded them at her feet.
"Thanks," she said, pushing her hair over her shoulder. "Once again, you've proved why you need supervision. Now get back to your posts. Go!"
Éomer stepped past the others who cast him a somewhat fearful look before returning to the Hornburg gate. His eyes were on the young woman who seemed to walk out of her grave before their very eyes. She was counting the arrows in her quiver, grinning.
It was then she noticed boots and glanced up. The quiver fell from her hands, spilling arrows onto the ground. "Oh," she said darkly, turning away from him. "It's you."
"You should not have done that," he said, glaring at her even in the piercing darkness.
"If I hadn't, many of those men would have died," she replied, gazing at him coolly. "Not to mention the fifty-some women and children they were trying to seriously kill."
He watched her jaw tighten as she turned back and gazed at the top of the wall with an angry sigh. "Could you at least find me a better spot?"
Once Buffy had selected a better location, one where she could actually see, which was nothing more than a box placed under her feet, she stood with her bow in hand, listening to the horns and chants of the Orcs and the rest of their allies far below. From what she could tell, there were thousands of them, and maybe a thousand men to defend this little cave in the wall. Didn't these people realize how royally screwed they were? But they weren't. Not yet.
In the lingering silence, she saw Gimli bouncing up and down, trying to see over the top of the wall. Excusing herself from the guards standing between them, she kicked her own box over and dumped her weaponry unceremoniously on the ground. "Care to share my box, Gimli?"
He turned to her and blinked. And then he cackled.
"Give me a year and a hundred kin and I would see this wall built for no enemy to break," he said to Legolas, standing on the other side, looking as passively neutral as ever, yet he was amused by the box this Dagnir and the Dwarf now stood upon.
"I do not doubt it," he said, gazing into the distance. "But I would give for a hundred archers of Mirkwood. The Rohirrim have archers, but there are too few."
"And you, Merilin," Gimli said, glancing at the woman bouncing impatiently next to him. "Would you have a hundred of your people come to fight?"
Buffy's look was of vicious delight as she looked upon the spears of her enemy. "These guys would be dust," she said savagely. There was an unlikely sparkle in her eye as she imagined Faith, Kennedy, Vi, Rona and many of the other Slayers fighting here. Oh, she'd give anything for a hundred Slayers. Hell, she'd pay their airfare through time and everything. But the one thing she wanted more than anything was that this wretched darkness would disappear and the sun would come out.
"Would they be archers?" Legolas asked her. She turned to him and grinned.
"They'd be whatever you'd want," she replied truthfully. At this, the Elf turned his impassive face to the fires below and she laughed.
"Are they all of your height?" Gimli asked, eyeing the fact that this woman was not even a half-head taller than he.
"Some are shorter," Buffy admitted.
"Are you certain you are not a Dwarf?" Gimli demanded. "Our women have fought in the wars of the past."
Buffy was laughing again. "Oh, my dear Gimli," she said, brushing the tears from her eyes. "They don't have beards."
"A shame," Gimli sighed, knocking the end of his axe into the box they were standing on. He glared at the night and then said, his voice more troubled, "It is the time for sleep, and yet I am restless."
"I know how you feel," Buffy replied, stifling a yawn. "I thrive in the darkness."
Aragorn and Éomer passed behind them then, and Buffy worked to keep a straight face as she gently passed her hand over the arch of her bow.
Lightning flashed in the distance, along with the slow rumble of thunder. The heavy air around them was finally giving way to a great storm. Buffy watched this and gripped her bow even tighter. These morons thought they could bring a storm. Just wait until they found out that a thousand good men awaited them, along with a Slayer who wasn't afraid of letting loose.
The advancing lines of the enemy were moving fast now, as they could see them approaching from the flickering forks of lightning over their heads. In one instance, there were archers raising their bows to take aim at those along the Deeping Wall. Not one of them had been told to do anything, so they watched as the arrows flew into the wall before them, occasionally picking off a mark. Buffy managed to jump from her box to avoid one arrow and evaded another as it sailed cleanly between her helm and the helm of the Dwarf standing next to her.
All at once, it seemed, everything started happening. Rain started to unleash, drenching all upon the wall. The enemy had fired their first shots, and then fell back. They kept doing this, as though expecting retribution for these continued assaults. A streak of men were advancing up the ramp, and as others leapt aside, they wielded large tree trunks and began to ram the gates.
Quietly, Buffy and the other archers readied their bows. An arrow sat in their opposite hand as they waited for the chance to start fighting back. The archers were close enough now to carefully select targets, and Buffy was hoping she wouldn't have to make the call to start firing before they did.
Then, with a sudden rush of sound, arrows flew through the air, mixed with the sound of the heavy rain falling into the valley. The Orc archers retreated, but halted soon after, and turned as both sides exchanged another stream of arrows.
Aragorn and Éomer were looking to the gates and ran with their own men to secure the causeway. Buffy stood her ground next to Gimli and Legolas, and it wasn't until she reached for her fifth arrow did she realize that Gimli had darted away.
As the gates burst open and Orcs flowed inside, Aragorn and Éomer raised their swords, made their battle cries, and launched into the fleet of men surging inward.
Buffy stood her ground on top of the Deeping Wall. They unleashed torment upon the archers and Orcs below, but she soon began to realize that this was an excellent tactic for the enemy: let those inside their fortress use all of their weaponry so that they had nothing to use when the real battle came. Buffy tossed her bow aside and turned to Legolas, who continued to issue the orders to fire. Down below at the ramp she saw two swords flashing in the lightning. She whipped her wet hair out of her eyes and glanced up as a blast of thunder shook the ground.
It was going to be a long night.
The rain started relenting just then. Buffy turned back to see how small the droplets of water were getting. Lifting her damp head, she jumped from her box and ran along the wall only to meet Gimli, chuckling and hastily rushing towards his post, grunting, "That did away my longing for sleep!" he said to her as he passed her by.
Buffy sighed, glancing at the archers rapidly running out of things to fire. She glanced at the doorway, where the sounds of fighting were still present. Making up her mind, she turned back to the others and joined Gimli on the box.
"A fair decision," he told her as she lifted her bow again.
"At least now I know we won't get bored," she said grimly as she lifted her stuffed quiver of arrows.
"There is always the chance we could lift you to a bowstring and fire you down to face them," one of the Rohirric soldiers said dryly.
"I feel loved already," Buffy snorted as she picked through her mismatched arrows. The archers kept firing, although their arrows were disappearing faster than they cut down their enemies. Another problem was arising as well: Orcs in tight clusters were running to the base of the wall and firing ropes with grappling hooks on the ends. Hundreds of these were shot at the wall, and all of those defending the wall stepped forward to cut them down. Buffy used her axe, appreciating the power of the little weapon. The Orcs and wild-men swarmed beneath them like a herd of angry cattle as ladders were raised upon the ropes.
"This isn't good," she muttered, chopping yet another hook and watching as the ladder collapsed back down before the Orcs climbing it could reach the top. The only problem was, there were hundreds of ladders, and as one was cut down, two replaced it. They would never get all of them cut before the Orcs scaled the wall.
The sky above them was clearing, as the moon had suddenly appeared behind parted black clouds. The lightning was drifting off towards the west, and the winds were blowing briskly from the north.
The Orcs broke through near the center of the line. Buffy abandoned her box and leapt forward, her axe clashing against swords. She felt Gimli behind her, rapping his own axe against his foes. The defense of the wall had been divided. As hundreds of Orcs appeared, half of the men (and one woman) were working on expelling these foul creatures, while the others tried to prevent others from coming.
The assault on the wall was doubled now. While many on top of the wall had their hands full, more Orcs below had pulled out the grate leading into the Deep. Orcs now ran through, unchecked and unchallenged.
"Damn it!" Buffy cried over the sounds of metallic clinking. She raced to the opposite wall and stared down at the figures fighting below; they would need help.
Aragorn and Éomer had returned to the Wall and were fighting to expel the few Orcs remaining. Most of the ropes had been cut, and many of the Orcs were piled at their feet. The outcome of this burst was staggering; many of the men looked exhausted and were grey-faced, leaning on swords that had been notched and shields that had been bruised by the onslaught. Buffy was among them, although she refused to admit it. She swung her axe about, ignoring the fact it was probably getting dull from slamming into the body armor of the Uruk-hai.
Down below, the guards on horseback were fighting those that had gone through the culvert and into the Deep.
"The Orcs are behind the wall!" Gimli shouted as he reared his axe and charged downwards. Buffy made to follow him until she saw that more grappling hooks were flying through the air, along with another assault of arrows as the last of the archers fired their last arrows into the abyss.
There was a call to arms belong, sounded with a mighty "Forth Helmingas!" as Gambling led the men of the Westfold forward to parry off the Orcs slipping through the drain. Buffy turned and focused her attention back on the ropes and rushed forward, seizing the bow at the foot of the box. Lifting her quiver, she started pulling arrows at random and passed the quiver along. When it returned to her, she saw Legolas had two arrows left and looked quite desolate about this fact.
"Take them," Buffy said, pushing the quiver into his chest. "In my world, you take what you can get."
He stared down at the various assortments of arrows her quiver held: poisonous Orc arrows, arrows from the wild-men, and enough arrows recovered from her minor skirmish. He pulled out a small handful and slipped them into his own and returned her case. As the next ladders started rising, the archers were ready.
Buffy grinned as she continued to fire arrows into the ropes. Watching those ladders fall was almost a joy to behold, considering all these morons wanted to do was kill them all.
But the Orcs broke through again, and Buffy found herself taking her axe and fighting off just one Uruk-hai before the blade bent and the weapon was rendered useless. Groaning, she pulled out her sword to continue the assault, while Legolas and the rest of the archers abandoned the defenses and continued to hack their way through the man enemies now flying over the wall, their weapons raised, and their breath coming in short, bated snarls.
Aragorn and Éomer were among these men, their infamous swords flashing in the night. The darkness was starting to ebb away now, and Buffy figured dawn couldn't be more than two hours away.
Far below, Gimli and the rest of the men of the Westfold were filling in the culvert was as much debris as they could find. Once the artery had been sealed off, he claimed his axe and returned to his position on the Wall, proudly boasting "Twenty-one!"
Legolas pushed the last Orc aside from his position and hacked the rope from the wall. "Good!" he said, his face inexpressive as always. "But my count is now two dozen. It has been knife-work up here!"
Buffy glared at the last man she had cut down before reaching and taking his own axe. She lifted her head, her intense eyes glaring in the pre-dawn light. It was then she saw something that made her heart stop beating.
More ropes were swinging through the air, and if that wasn't bad enough, she saw torches in a long line below. She cried out, but her voice was drowned out by the sound of the trumpets blaring from below. Something bad was coming… it felt as though she were in hell all over again.
There was a resounding crash before a deafening boom. Buffy screamed as the ground beneath her feet exploded outwards, her bow flying from her hand and the axe spinning wildly through the air. After what seemed like forever, she landed hard in the water below, rescued by her hard-core armor. For a moment, she couldn't breathe as she saw figures rushing in against the rain-swollen creek.
This was it. This was the moment she had been waiting for. She was going to die stuck in this pond, just like the first time…
It was then she heard a resounding roar in her ears and saw a stout little figure land before her, swinging his axe expertly. As he diverted the Uruk-hai now rushing in, she stumbled to her feet, now drenched in rain-water, river-water and her own sweat and tears. Grasping the sword that had thankfully landed ten feet away from her, she jumped back into battle, standing side-by-side with the Dwarf.
"I owe you my life," she said to him.
Aragorn was leading the men of the Westfold in the charge as they fought against those in the breach. The only problem was, the Uruk-hai were quickly killing everything on the Deeping Wall. She pointed this out to the Dwarf, who lowered his axe, and they both ran up the rocky stairs, kicking and sparring their way until they reached the top. Buffy resumed her position of attacking anything with a weapon raised at her, and Gimli chose to stay beneath, darting and paring.
"We have to get to the other side!" she shouted, as she noticed that on this end, most of the enemy was dead. The Uruk-hai wanted that door, and it was across the breach. With a cry that would have made any Slayer proud, she ran and leapt into the air, landing on both feet a good five away from the edge of the breach. The Dwarf lumbered after her, but stood on the opposite side.
"I cannot make it," he said, gazing at the breach below, with many black-clad figures still pouring in.
Buffy didn't have time to make this decision. The Uruk-hai, now attacking what defense remained on top of the wall, now turned to her. She had no choice. She turned regretfully back to Gimli. "Get down there," she shouted. "I'll see you there."
He lifted his axe in a silent salute and was gone in the flash of his shiny armor. Turning, Buffy took on an entire company of the enemy by her lonesome. She wondered if Legolas had gotten away all right, since he'd been standing so near to her when the explosion had sounded. Éomer was also not present, and she worried for him, too. There were bodies beneath her feet, Rohirric bodies.
There were too many for her to face on her own. But she had to do something. She spied something underneath a bit of rubble, an axe. Lifting both weapons into her hand, she spun and twirled, taking out as many as she could as she worked her way to the wall facing the Deep. Below there was a cry to retreat to the Keep, and she knew she would never make it. The gate below fell open with a thud as the battering rams moved inside.
Hope was waning fast, she thought as she finally reached the edge and climbed carefully onto the rock. The defense of the wall had fallen, as many of those who'd been defending it were now dead on top of it. Casting a last, sorrowful glance around, she jumped off of the Wall and landed, some fifteen feet below, in another sea of black-clad bodies.
Aragorn had reached the Hornburg and found, to his dismay, that neither Éomer or Gimli were present.
"Things go ill, my friend," Aragorn said as he paused, breathing heavily against the door.
"Ill enough, but not yet hopeless," Legolas replied, clasping the shoulder of one of his oldest and dearest friends. "Was Gimli with you?"
"He has not made it back," Aragorn said, casting a wary eye on the door beyond, where King Théoden stood, waiting to hear news of this battle. "But fear not, for he is stout and fearless."
"I just wish I could have told him my count is at thirty-nine."
"You will have this chance," Aragorn replied, hurrying away. At the steps of the citadel, he met with one of the riders, who answered his question as to where Éomer and Gimli were.
"I saw Éomer gathering men and fighting at the mouth of the Deep," he said. "Gamling was with him; and the Dwarf, but I could not come to them."
Aragorn nodded and strode to the inner court, where the King stood, staring out a small window into the vale. The sky was starting to turn from black to the palest shade of navy blue, as the sun continued to rise.
In the mouth of the Deep, Éomer stood is ground, calling all that were left to charge the large amount of Uruk-hai now streaming into the Deep.
Buffy was among them, once she'd found Gimli alive. She almost cried with relief; she had thought she'd seen the last of him. Lifting both weapons into her hands now, she charged the assault. They were taking out far more than the Uruk-hai were taking of them. Buffy turned and lacerated her way through them, too small almost for them to gaze upon, since she was a good head shorter than most. Behind them came the wild-men, and she decided to face them head on. They were much easier to take on one-on-one than the Uruk-Hai, and she gladly did just that.
Éomer was beyond words as he continued to fight, his own sword slashing and hacking its way through the many enemies standing between them and the breach. They were starting to fall back though, since more of his men were falling than could hold off the torrent now pouring in.
What he didn't expect to hear was one of the horns blowing ahead of him. On top of a rock, a woman stood, blowing into a cracked horn. Tossing the broken device aside, she leapt back into battle, and with her went many. Éomer recognized many as the rearguard of the Westfold, who had followed her into the battle before that of Helm's Deep. He lifted his own sword and shouted his own rally, and soon both forces were attacking the main flank of Uruk-hai head-on. This appeared to work as long as they could keep pushing the enemy back towards the breach.
They had no idea that far above them, hundreds of Uruk-hai were now streaming into the Hornburg.
Aragorn stared at the back of the King for a silent moment.
"What is the news, Aragorn?" Théoden asked.
"The Deeping Wall is taken and all of the defense has been swept away," Aragorn replied.
"Is Éomer here?" the King inquired.
"No, lord. Many of your men have retreated to the Deep, and one has spoken that Éomer was among them."
Théoden was silent for almost a moment as he thought. "It has been said that the Hornburg has never fallen to an assault," he said quietly. "Had I known that the strength of Isengard was so great, I would not have taken Gandalf's counsel, for now it seems unwise to have listened." He sighed as he stared as the first traces of pink lit the sky before him. "Where is the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing? They have passed like rain on the mountains. Like wind in the meadow. The days have gone down in the west. Behind the hills, into shadow. How did it come to this?"
"Do not judge the counsel of Gandalf, for this battle is not over," Aragorn said quickly, taking in the look of defeat in the older man's eyes.
"The end will not be long," Théoden replied, turning away from the window at last. "Yet I will gather what strength we have and ride. When dawn comes, I will bid my men sound the horn of Helm, and I will ride forth. Will you ride with me, Aragorn?"
"I will ride with you," Aragorn replied firmly.
He then took his leave and returned to the outer wall, far higher than that of the destroyed Deeping Wall. Legolas went with him, and they both fought when the assaults came from the grappling hooks and the ladders. Uruk-hai were now weakening the gate into the tower.
At long last, a thin line of white appeared on the horizon. He stepped forward and walked to the part of the wall over the gates, ignoring the whizzing of arrows as they flew past him, clattering harmlessly on the rock behind him. He held up his hands in the token of parley, knowing he was buying Théoden time to get his horses prepared. As the Uruk-hai jeered at him and began demanding the King make his own entrance, the rest of the attacking force had been driven at last from the Deep.
Water splashed up as a small company of Rohirrim were led to the mouth of the breach. Over a thousand Orc were between them and the Hornburg, and they were completely cut off. Buffy was trying her best to stay ahead of them, to reach the stairs. She knew the Deeping Wall was overrun, but there was still the broken half. Some of her men were wounded, two of them quite seriously. The stairs were only a couple of dozen foes away. They could keep running them down. Sure. She was chosen to be an army of one, but these men were hardly older than boys, some of them, and some could pass as her grandfather. To keep hurling them into the arms of their growing enemy would be asking them for a quick, painful death, and that was something Buffy wasn't willing to give them.
Éomer was behind her, fighting off the main assault. More trumpets blared as another surge swept in. Buffy was forced to abandon the idea of the stairs after another ten minutes of fighting off these newest assailants. "Get the men up to the top of the wall!" she shouted to the lieutenant, who nodded and climbed up the haphazard debris to make his way towards the unchecked part that still remained of the Deeping Wall. Turning, she noticed that sunrise had come at last, but even in this dim light, there wasn't any more than there had been three hours before when they had been left in total darkness.
Buffy and what remained of her men fell back to Éomer, who was still fighting the incoming attack. Buffy did her best to cut a line through the Orcs, but she knew she didn't have enough men. They were all clogged together in one large group, hurling onwards, and cutting down everything in their path.
Just when their hope became bleakest did a deep horn sound. The ground trembled. The Uruk-hai seemed to forget they were in battle and froze, their weapons suspended in mid-air. Their claws came up as their weapons and shields dropped, cowering, their armor lifted to be pressed over their ears.
There was a great cry of "Forth Eorlingas!" before Buffy turned and smiled. A bright beam of the fresh morning light fell across her face as, morale renewed, she leapt back into battle, fighting with a fervor these foes had not yet seen. Éomer led his own charge, as more than a hundred good men took on more than a thousand in the Deep.
As the horses charged out of the ruined gates, they clamored down the causeway, the Uruk-hai run down. The horn sounded loudly above them once again, and many of the Orcs and wild-men turned to flee with fear in their eyes.
Aragorn rode at the right hand of the King, fighting his way down. Legolas rode behind him, his knife flashing through the air.
They reached the bottom just as the sound of a magnificent neigh came from far above. Heads turned to see a snowy white horse on top of the hill.
"Mithrandir," Legolas said under his breath, his eyes full of wonder.
And with him were thousands of men, some on horseback, some on foot.
"Erkenbrand!" the men called out, lifting their swords as they saw one man step forward, his red shield raised in the light. "It is Erkenbrand!"
At the last sound of the horn of Helm, Gandalf led the charge downwards, as Théoden and his men attacked from the ramp, and those driven into the Deep began to retreat outwards.
Gandalf reached the valley just as sunlight exploded from the mountain tops, bathing the valley and the remains of the Keep in its warm, beautiful light.
At the mouth of the valley, near the crossing of the Coomb, the dry ground had been turned into a forest. The Uruk-hai dropped their weapons and backed away, now facing defeat at the hand of a Wizard, a King, and more than three thousand good fighting men.
Inside the Deep, Buffy dropped her axe and fell to her knees, her hands reaching for her face. Her sword lay on the ground beside her, and when she looked up, she saw the sky above her, a brilliant shade of milky blue with soft wisps of white.
A bloodied hand reached out towards her. She glanced up with an exhausted face to see the lieutenant smiling down at her. "This battle is over. The Uruk-hai are retreating."
Buffy took his hand as he helped her to her feet. There was a deafening roar as the Rohirrim cheered their victory on. Buffy walked through the drainage and paused, sniffling. Éomer was helping a wounded Dwarf to his feet. Buffy rushed to him.
"You're hurt," she said, gently helping the Dwarf remove the helmet. Part of an Orc-blade had been jammed through the ridged top, and his head was bleeding. Before he could protest, she threw her arms around him, hugging him. This obviously wasn't the type of thing a Dwarf normally did, yet he let her cling to him for a moment before she pulled back, her face shining with exertion.
The men slowly made their way from the breach and into the brilliant sunlight. Buffy felt cold and shaken, as though her night had been spent fighting off Glory, the Master, Adam and the Mayor in one fell swoop. Throw in a bit of fun from the First, and this had been a Buffy-battle. She'd never taken on that many vampires without some superhuman support.
The retreating forces of Isengard sped through the valley and into the newfound forest, where after the sound of wailings and moaning, not one of the foes returned on the other side.
The lieutenant stayed at Buffy's side, her sword in his hand. His other hand held another treasure of hers, and he returned it to her. It was her faithful bow. Before he realized what he had said, she threw her arms around him and hugged him, too.
Gandalf rode forward and saw his young charge following Éomer from the Dike. Her long hair had been tied back from her face, which wore the scars of one who had faced a battle. Her one eye had been blackened, and there was a deep gash on one side of her face, the scar from when the explosion of the Wall had sent her into the Deeping stream.
When she saw Mithrandir, she strode up to him, and he saw in essence that his decision to ask for her allegiance had not been unwarranted. Théoden saw her, too, and his eyes widened before a grand smile broke across his face.
"You have but nine lives," he said, sounding astonished to see that the one woman in their camp was still standing on her own two feet.
"You must see what she does with her sword," said the lieutenant, ever faithful, standing behind the woman he had claimed to be his captain. Others who had ridden into battle with her saw her as walking-wounded, yet came to her nonetheless. The sunlight appeared to be giving her strength.
"She has fought well," said Éomer, giving the woman a rare smile of respect. She nodded at this and smiled back at him.
On the other side of Mithrandir, Legolas and Gimli were comparing their numbers again.
"Forty-two," Gimli said proudly, his hand pressed over his wound to stem the flow of blood.
"You have passed my score by one," Legolas said, his eyes shining in the light. "This I will forgive, as I am happy to see you on your legs."
"Hail, Éomer!" Théoden said, riding to his sister-son and gazing down upon him. "I see that you are safe indeed."
"Hail, Lord of the Mark!" Éomer replied, staring at the forest before them and then turning to Gandalf. "Once more you have come in our hour of need."
"I said that I would return and meet you here," Gandalf replied with his own smile. "And yet I had never left." His eyes strayed to the damp blonde standing next to Shadowfax, her hand resting on the horse's muzzle, her gaze full of exhaustion.
"We have somewhere else to be, don't we?" Buffy asked, gazing at Gandalf. He saw in her eyes the same fear he felt in his own body and nodded slowly.
As one, the men of the land gazed at the trees, and even Gandalf was kept in the wonder and way by which they had arrived.
"Théoden-King, our task has not yet passed," Gandalf said at last. "Will you ride with me to Isengard?"
"But there are not enough men in the Mark to assault the stronghold of Saruman!" the King said, glancing at his wearied men. Few they may be, he decided, yet without courage they were not.
Yet there was that single figure that stepped forward. The woman, though injured and exhausted, her face lined with fatigue, laid the bow upon the ground and said, "I'll go with you to Isengard."
The men stared at her; this woman had already wasted but five of her nine lives. Could she truly spare one more?
Gandalf was beaming at her, knowing that this woman was stronger than many had given her credit for. "I thought you might."
- - - -
In the next chapter, a journey to Isengard begins.