FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Aragorn and Buffy's strained relationship ever be resolved? What will Aragorn do with the information, the secret, which he now knows? What has Arwen planned? And what will happen when the Three rise up in fury? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty when she's now the hunted? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And what path does Boromir now follow?

Author's notes: Okay, just for the record I never said that Buffy was in danger of dying. Nope, didn't even hint at it. You, my devilish readers, deduced that yourselves. And this chapter is chock full of action! And by the way, you can thank my friend Seer-Cassandra for who dies in this chapter. I wanted to kill off one person, but she argued against it. And so instead of killing off one, I killed off more! Blame her.

Review responses:

Aeroprime - thank you! And I deal with death threats on a regular basis, so now I have some guard Balrogs and my own personal Aragorn and Glorfindel to leap to my defence. And I hear they have good drugs for craziness nowadays….

Allen Pitt - orcsies? Well, you try to make something insulting and Buffy-like out of their name! About the sequel, you may be right. But my lips are sealed. And no, the special guest is not an ubervamp or Adam. It's something a little more dangerous…

Arcrose - Get used to cliffies I'm afraid… And Narya doesn't need Buffy's permission to kick butt… and Éowyn is going to be a little busy herself in this chapter!

Becky - You find out in this chapter!

Belligerent-road-pylon - yes, I remember your salmon very well. Kinda hard to forget actually… and I think it should be bludgeoning Buffy now…

Bonnie - thanks! And welcome!

Boo - thanks for the review! And you get confused? How?

Dreamer Child - thanks! And yes, I'm sure her friends will try to help. If they weren't a little busy themselves…

FallenStar2 - (Looks at muse, who swishes forked tail innocently) Ah, it still had jetlag last chapter. And the bumpy ride warning was more for this chapter… And yes, Elladan and Elrohir would probably try to take Arwen somewhere safe. Like she would let them. And yes, dark, dark times are ahead! Don't be mean? Oh boy. Too late. My muse unloaded lots of nifty new plot twists from Hell… be scared…. Be very scared….

General Mac - your wish is my command….

Goldenshadows - maybe…

Kit-Kat - thanks! And yes, Buffy is giving herself too much credit on the 'how many people got hurt because of me' scale, but she left Sunnydale on bad terms, with everyone blaming her for it, so it tended to stick. And Aragorn has actually made more progress than he actually realises. And RotK is starting in about one or two chapters. (Claps hands together in glee) Oh, what I have planned…. (Cackles)

Lady - good predictions. Only I never said all the danger warnings were for Buffy…

Lali-chan - Hi! And I never said I was killing her! And to sound like a responsible young adult, studying for your test is very important. However, I am flattered that this fic took precedence! And ouch with the wake up time.

Light Spinner - thanks. Okay, have never seen Babylon 5 but thanks anyway. And Arwen has to stumble across at least one of them eventually… and the visitors are unexpected to everybody but Saruman and Sauron!

Lisette - yes, I did take your comments on board. But this chapter is totally non-canon, either verse, anyway. And you couldn't even give me a hint about what type of fic you're writing!

Mari - thanks! And yes, Buffy must learn everything the hard way. And yes, the great eyeball is very annoyed at Buffy. A few decades ago, it had the Heir of Isildur in its grasp. She rescued him. Now, he's popping up at Helms Deep. She's killed a lot of his monsters. And through Saruman, he had a hold on Théoden King, then Buffy shows up with company, and hey presto, now Théoden's fighting against him. The great eyeball seems to have a lot of bad luck thanks to her… and perhaps you had that feeling because Galadriel always seems to know everything? And why don't you want me to bring in a BtVS character, 'cos it will not be one of the Scoobies. I mean, if enough people don't want it, I'll scrap it while there's still time.

Night-Owl123 - I live for Cliffhangers. (Sighs dramatically.) What can I say? I'm Evil.

Pamie884 - thanks! And Haldir is so in for it.

Phoenix83ad - of course I did! My muse demands at least one evil thing per chapter! And I like giving Éowyn things to do! She deserved to be involved! And yes, I am sending Arwen into battle. Seems only fair really, when everyone else in her family is kicking butt. And considering that she's nearly three thousand years old, yes, I think she's learned something. And the reason why Buffy and Théoden clash is because what happens when you throw two hotheads with a grudge into the middle of a very stressful, fight to the death situation? Fireworks. Lots and lots of fireworks…

Shabopo - thanks! I also think the Angel issue is a valid one. It was the first and in my opinion, the last time that she let anyone completely in. And yes, I will be introducing a BtVS character into the fic's sequel. And the sequel is planned out and I'll start writing it as soon as I finish FK. And you've got Théoden dead on, that's one of the main reasons why I made him so hostile to her. Legolas and Gimli he can at least pass of as 'definitely not human, fear them' but Buffy is an enigma. And one that has fooled him before. And remember, he doesn't like Aragorn all that much either. He never really respects him until after Helms Deep. Also, he could believe that Aragorn has been 'coerced' or something…

ShawThang - no, only one chapter. And bland? How so? 'Cos they are heading into a battle to the death thingy. No time for breaking down. Besides, Buffy always took out her emotions on the poor unsuspecting demons to cross her… Pity someone.

Singapura - thanks! And I have plans for Boromir. All of which are currently top secret until we get into the Gondor sequences.

Talina - (Smiles mysteriously) Perhaps… Happy belated Easter to you too!

Tenshikoneko03 - Buffy isn't going to be too happy either! And you're right, definitely for Buffy especially.

The Great and Powerful Oz - okay, in c.31, Gandalf just used a spell to bring her foresight to the fore so that he could confirm his own suspicions. And yes, Legolas and Arwen will 'hook up'.

The Lady Reaper of the Shadows - just pitched off a wall. And Boromir will be appearing in the Gondor sequences.

Vixen519 - she's not dead. And about Arwen, that is the question isn't it?

Voided - welcome! And thanks!

White-Witch-Sakura - don't worry, she survives the fall. and thanks!

Willow Tree Pixie - I quote. 'Death is her gift'.

And major thanks to:

Anyanka of the Ocean, CharmingStar, Claddagh, Dena, GoldenRat, Haley, icybananna89, if only u kne, Imp17, inuyasha-lover92, jumping-jo, Kae, Lady Meridia, Maleficus Lupinus, Sukera, Tommy14, Watch-Da-Rain,

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX: DOUBLE TROUBLE

"Maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right kind of regrets."

Arthur Miller

Helms Deep, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 7 - night.

As an orcish arrow struck her in the chest, the slayer lost her balance and toppled over the Deeping Wall….

Though the arrow had mercifully been blocked by the mithril vest she wore, only tearing a nasty hole in her clothes, the momentum had been enough to disturb her already precarious balance and so fall she had.

Cursing her luck in three different languages, Buffy felt herself plummeting down into unfriendly territory and she heard the whistles of the arrows as they passed her, and barely missed.

Halfway down, she reached out and with all her might, snagged onto a ladder being pulled up onto the wall. Kicking the surprised orc off the rail, she clung on and wondered what the hell she was going to do now.

Hanging from an Uruk-hai ladder that, if the defenders were doing their jobs right, was about to be sent crashing back to earth was not exactly the best-case scenario. Then again, looking down at the jeering orcs was not exactly appealing either. Basically, she had two choices as far as she could see; try to climb up the ladder and hope the Rohirrim didn't get trigger happy with her, and considering Théoden's opinion of her, that sounded incredibly unlikely. Or two, slide down the ladder into a mass of orcs and Dunlendings. Yep, it was nice to know that her luck had followed her all the way from the Hellmouth.

Unfortunately for her, something was not too inclined to let Buffy have any choice.

As the rope pulling the ladder up was cut by the orcs below, Buffy's eyes widened as the entire frame started to plummet to the ground. Holding on as tight as she could, she waited until the ladder was within ten feet of smashing into the ground before taking a deep breath and jumping off. Rolling to minimise the impact of the fall, her breath was still forced out of her lungs and she could literally feel bruises developing due to her bone jarring tumble.

"Note to self: learn to duck." she groaned as she staggered up, only to duck right back down as a wickedly curved blade slashed past her, cutting off an inch of her braid as it did so.

Instinctively, Buffy flipped to her feet, her own sword still, thank the Valar, attached to her sword belt, and she pulled it out and slipped into defensive stance as she took a look at her enemy. The first thing she noticed was that she had landed what must have been forty or fifty feet out from the Deeping Wall, which was bad. The second thing she noticed was that the orcs were giving her, or her opponent, a nice wide berth, which was very bad. And the third thing she noticed was that her opponent was neither orc nor Dunlending, but from their colouring, an Easterling, which was very, very bad.

What was worse was that Buffy had the sinking feeling that there was something familiar about her enemy. It was a woman, with dusky skin, standing about five or six inches taller than her, wielding a blade that very much reminded her of something Faith had once tried to kill her with. That was unusual in the middle of an orc army, but what chilled Buffy to the bone was the fluid, deadly movements of the woman and an all too familiar gleam in her dark eyes. If this woman was fully human, she thought, then she was a Hobbit. She looked lethal. She looked like a slayer.

She certainly moved like one as they circled each other, and those dark, dark eyes never left Buffy's face. They were like dark pools, which no light ever reached, and Buffy nervously thought that she could see madness, and above all, the corruptive influence of some evil. Whoever this woman had been, she was no more. What stood before her was like the anathema of everything a slayer stood for; - evil. It was her opposite. And as her stomach sank further, she realised that maybe it was meant to be a slayer of slayers.

In addition, as their blades met in the first thrust and parry, Buffy also knew that she was outgunned. This was a slayer unleashed - dark and primal. Working for the wrong side, but with all the strength of a heritage that should never have reached Middle Earth. Which meant that it had to have come from her. Somehow. The speed of this creature, the sheer ruthlessness, the total disregard for personal safety and the fact that Buffy was surrounded by thousands of orcs that were not going to let her escape did not bode well for her. Galadriel's words came back to her then and this time, she knew she had at last realised the meaning of them.

'Beware Dagnir, and take heed, Else, thou shalt live by thy predecessors' creed, For one to live another must die, Beware the evil that draws nigh, Dagnir, watcher of the dark, To the Timeless Halls you may depart, If you stray from chosen course, Remember thy birthright, One must die for another to live.'

One must die for another to live….

Buffy squared her shoulders as she ducked under another eerily accurate swipe, feeling it scrape against the mail she wore. This woman, no, this creature, had to die if Buffy was to live. Somehow, Buffy hadn't needed Galadriel to tell her that she was in serious trouble.

Spinning over a sharp thrust from the creature's sword, she cried out in pain as a roundhouse kick was landed on her side, nearly knocking the wind out of her once more. Flipping out of the way of another blow, she did not see the sword slicing through her arm until she felt the sting of it. Instantly, the creature smiled and it was a feral, vindictive smile that chilled Buffy to see it. "Your time is ended," the creature said in accented Westron, amusement evident in its tone. "You lose."

And as Buffy watched, waiting for an opening, the woman touched her hand to the fresh blood on her sword, "Blood… such a simple thing," it hissed, "But there is such strength in it too…" As an Uruk engaged Buffy, forcing the slayer to forego trying to strike her real opponent down, the woman's body seemed to shudder, blurring around the edges, and as Buffy whirled and stabbed the Uruk-hai through the heart, she suddenly found herself facing her own mirror image.

It was eerily like seeing the First take on her own form. The only thing that did not change were those dark eyes, still as merciless and pitiless as they had been since she first encountered it. "Your time is ended," it repeated and lunged, forcing Buffy into an odd scramble to avoid the sword and the long knife it had pulled out. Knocking the knife out of its hand, she was similarly disarmed as it kicked her sword out of her hands.

However, a fist caved in her stomach as she tried to pull out a dagger and another kick to her midsection dragged her down to her knees. Desperate, she grabbed its foot, and gave it a vicious yank, dropping it right down into the mud with her. She grabbed her sword and tried to strike but it was up as well, their reflexes too evenly matched. This was a fight that could go on all night and the creature seemed to realise it too.

Crying out in a tongue that Buffy did not understand, she threw two daggers at the winded slayer, who ducked and dodged to avoid them and melted back as a circle of men closed about her. Buffy did not bother to resist the urge to curse viciously at the sight of them. Fifteen Easterlings and some sort of shape-shifter person. It just made her day. However, the shape-shifter version of her did not bother hanging around and after a quick command, which sounded way too much like "kill her", she left, dashing through the crowds of orcs. It took Buffy's baffled brain all of ten seconds to realise what was happening.

It looked like her. It moved like her. It even sounded like her. With a cloak to mask her clothes, who could tell the difference between them in this dark? Her friends would help 'Buffy' back into the fortress, never realising that she was really out here, with some not so nice people. Some sort of assassin, for Buffy had no doubt that its origins were either Barad-dûr, Dol Guldur or Orthanc, was about to get unlimited access to the Hornburg.

And a free shot at all her friends.

They would not, could not, realise until it was too late. How could they even imagine? She had not even seen this coming! And she was not exactly unused to doppelgangers and other baddies, from her previous abode on the lovely ol' Hellmouth.

Even as the men drew closer, blades glinting when the lightning flashed, Buffy could only pray that she could get out of this one.

Before it was too late for everyone….

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It moved rapidly through the ranks of orcs until it reached the Deeping Wall. Its mission was going smoothly, and it took sickeningly little effort to gain some help to scale the wall. And it gained amusement from knowing that one of its targets had been the quickest to come to its aid.

Swiftly climbing the rope that was dropped down to it, it soon was clambering over the wall. Almost immediately, the man, the Dúnadan its master wanted dead, grabbed it and it ducked its head, clutching the cloak tighter against it. "Buffy!" he exclaimed, "By Eru! We nearly thought you were dead!"

It made a passable attempt at a smile, "Well, I am here now," it said, Buffy's voice rolling off its tongue, "And let us get back to fighting ere I do die. That could not be borne, could it?"

Aragorn looked at it strangely for a moment, sensing something was up, "Buffy, are you well?" he asked, concerned at her behaviour, but was forced to leave due to a call from Haldir.

It smiled again and gave him a slight push, "Go, you are needed." With one final, puzzled glance, he took off just as it slammed its dagger into an orc's chest. Casually stepping over the body, it started for the Keep. It had its orders after all. Kill the King, the Dúnadan, the King's family and the Elves. Preferably in that order.

Slipping away into the shelter of the Keep, away from the fight, it felt the thrill of the hunt course through its veins. As it passed, it did note the strange wariness in the Elf's face and just as quickly dismissed it. The Elf would be dead ere long. And there was nothing that he could do to stop it now…

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Grabbing a spear, Buffy twirled it like a quarterstaff, "Alright," she tried, "Let's say that you let me walk away right now and in return, I don't kill you?"

They lunged as one. "Right. I guess that's a 'no' then?" As they attacked, she slammed the blunt end of the spear into one man's head and shoved the bladed end through another's chest. A solid kick broke another's sword arm even as she parried the blows of two blades.

Ducking a rock thrown at her and an attempt to grab her from behind, she yanked one Easterling out in front of her as one with a crossbow took aim and fired. His comrade jerked under the force of the bolts and Buffy stared, just a little wide-eyed, at the sight of the bolts protruding from his back, only missing her by about half an inch.

Tossing aside her human shield, she flipped herself into a somersault to let two more guys crash into each other and then rammed the spear through them. This was war. There was a bloody assassin after her friends and she was not going to let them die. She would not, - could not, - lose anyone else.

Kicking the feet out from under another man, she punched one in the face and shoved her spear through another's stomach before leaping into a roundhouse kick that took down another, ignoring the ache of bruised ribs, before hefting another man and throwing him at the last ones standing, causing them to fall down.

"Sorry. Kind of have to rejoin the battle to the death thingy going on." she said mockingly, "Be smart. Don't follow me. Or I'll leave none of you alive next time."

Grabbing one of their dark cloaks, she wrapped it around herself, careful to mask her features and started to shove her way back to the Deeping Wall. She had to get back to the Keep before the Valar knew what damage was caused!

Unfortunately, fate had other plans. Even as she got within ten feet of the wall and was about to risk climbing one of the ladders, she saw him.

The torch in the Uruk's hand caught her eye and even as she noted his trajectory, she saw the big metal spikey thingy in the culvert and her eyes widened. Breaking course, she ran in his direction, "Hey, what are you doing? You're not supposed to do that!" she bellowed but it did not even slow down.

"Move! Out of my way!" Buffy yelled, pushing through to the front and shouting up at the battlements, "Hey! Up there! Move you idiots! Get off the wall!" she thundered, and watched with some satisfaction as some of the defenders did a double take, the Elves in particular staring at her in shock.

Looking at the wall, she saw Legolas take aim… - and miss.

"GET OFF THE WALL! IT'S GOING TO BLOW UP!" None of the men were sure of what she meant but she was glowering rather ominously even from that distance and some of them decided to heed her warnings lest they find themselves the subject of her ire. But to her mind, it was too few.

Already knowing she was going to be too late, she was surprised to feel the pulse of power and then the torch sputtered out in his hand even as Legolas's next arrow pierced his skull.

Sighing in relief, she glared in consternation at the brightly glowing Narya. "You did that, didn't you?" she said, and then paused, wondering why she had not been attacked yet. Turning around, she noticed the silence that had fallen on both sides and even from this distance, she could see Legolas and Haldir's eyes bugging out as they pushed their way to the front of the battlements.

"Oh, no…" she breathed, "Nope, this is no good at all…"

A Balrog stood there, still fiery despite the rain. And there was a large empty space around it as the Uruk-hai moved the hell out of its way. Up on the Deeping Wall, Legolas and Haldir's reactions ranked under 'very composed' as the naturally superstitious Rohirrim panicked at the sight of the demon. And there weren't many who would blame them either….

Buffy just looked up at the sky, "Someone up there just hates me, don't they?" she growled, "And of course, Gandalf has to be conveniently missing. Someone shoot him if he ever gets back."

She looked around and for the first time noticed that she was standing near the culvert, with a nasty Balrog closing in with nowhere to run and no reinforcements.

"Oh crap," she swore, "Don't tell me it's my turn again…"

Alas, it looked like it would have to be her. And she still had little miss 'steal my face' to deal with too. Next time she saw Galadriel, if she saw Galadriel, she was going to teach her not to be so cryptic. Because a warning with a little detail would have been real nice!

Her gaze shifted between her sword, the Balrog and then the twinkling Narya. Keeping the sword in her grasp, she looked at the Ring of Fire. "Let's hope you live up to your name," she whispered softly, uncaring that she was, in essence, talking to herself.

And then she turned to face the Balrog…

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Swallowing down her own fear, she faced it. She felt fear was allowed. After all, last time she had run across one of these things, she had died. Again. Maybe not totally its fault. However, it pushing her off the Bridge of Khazad-dûm had contributed considerably to her last death.

But fear could also debilitate. And she had too much at stake to risk failure. And so drawing on the coldness that had plagued her since Aragorn's supposed death, she reached for the slayer and found her. The impassive mask slipped back into place, hazel eyes hardened, and the Ring of Fire burned brightly on her finger. She would not be such an easy mark this time around.

The only problem was that she had no idea how to work Narya. None whatsoever. And the Balrog was bearing down fast.

Suppressing the pain she felt from the bumps, gashes and bruises that she already had, she concentrated on trying to bring it down before it got to the wall. She was under no illusions that the Deeping Wall was built to stand up to Balrogs. She may have had no hope of winning a fair fight, so she would have to outmanoeuvre it, outsmart it. And quickly. What a pity that Morgoth hadn't made Balrogs dumb. It would have made her job so much easier. Next time she saw Saruman, he was dying a very painful death.

And then it was upon her.

Its fiery whip swung at her and she ducked under its range, but she was at a distinct disadvantage. It could hit her but if she hit it with bare hands, then she was going to be nursing severe burns. It was not a situation she was happy with.

Dodging and ducking was both painful and useless, and she could only keep it up so long. This was an enemy that could predict her moves and in her current condition, she was so not going to do a Glorfindel on it. Or an Ecthelion. No cliffs or fountains nearby anyway.

But as she dodged once more, unable to clear herself fully, and the end of the fiery whip sliced across her back, she remembered Galadriel's message. Need was the key. And it couldn't get much more needy than this, could it?

Going totally on instinct, she stopped the ducking and weaving, and held her ground. Her hand tightened on the hilt of her sword and even as she willed with all her might for something to happen, Narya unleashed itself on an unsuspecting Balrog.

Buffy jerked as the first tendrils of fire blocked the Balrog's sword of flame, realising that she could feel Narya in the back of her mind. Even as fire wrapped around her own sword, she was swinging into action with more certainty than she had in a long time. This felt like handling that slayer's scythe so long ago. It felt right. Powerful. It felt glorious.

The aches and pains slid away momentarily as her focus narrowed down to eliminating the Balrog. She no longer had to fear its whip. Raising her own flaming sword, she was amazed at her own calm, and contributed it to too many things happening at once to worry about, as she engaged the startled demon in a sword fight.

Her steel sliced across the tendons of one of its knees, and it roared its pain as she danced back and out of its reach. She had told Théoden that she would defend this fortress where he would not, all the better to destroy Saruman, and she was not backing away from that promise now.

It was too tall, she could not land a mortal wound, but with every calculated blow to the bits she could reach, it stumbled all the more. And on her finger, and in her mind, Narya gathered its power for the final strike.

It lunged, too caught up in its own rage and pain to notice the danger, and Narya unleashed all that it had been holding back. The demon was thrown back by a blast of white fire that hit it, blackening the torso of the creature that now screamed and thrashed in pain. And as the fire penetrated its heart, its whip trashed once, twice and then stopped.

She had done it.

As she looked at Narya in shock and awe, catching her breath as every last bump and scratch she had ignored came back, calling for her pained attention, she failed to notice her fatal mistake.

The smouldering Balrog had smashed against the Deeping Wall, and its smoking whip lay inside the entrance to the culvert. The fitful sparks set the fuse alight even as Buffy was finding her footing on the wall, using the many ropes attached to the grappling hooks as climbing gear.

The explosion rocked the Deep.

As the bomb of Wizard's Fire was set off, the Deeping Wall came apart in a shower of rubble, debris and falling bodies. A huge portion of the wall was blown apart and stone surrounding the damaged area crumbled and fell, crushing any who happened to be near it. Walls, defences and defenders tumbled to the ground to the sound of countless screams.

It was devastation.

And even as the defenders reeled and died, their strongest defence and only hope gone, the Uruk-hai were already streaming past them through the huge gap into the fortress. And no matter how many died in the attempt, more always seemed to take their places.

As for Buffy, her luck got no better. She had been more than halfway up when the explosion rocked the fortress.

Her last thought as she flew through the air was, 'oh crap.'

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"Beware your surroundings, you can never be too cautious, for even the loveliest roses can kill."

- unknown

Just as the Deeping Wall blew up, scattering men, Elves, orcs and rubble everywhere, it found its mark.

Théoden grimaced when he saw it, "What do you want now?" he ground out, "Have you not seen the disaster outside? Or do you run?"

It made no reply. Crossing over to the king who was now looking at it strangely, it looked up. Théoden's face blanched as he looked at its pitch black eyes, "Buffy?" he whispered.

Again, it said nothing, just smiled sickeningly and drew its blade. Realising that he was on his own in the room, Gamling having run off to get a report on the damage, and with no guards nearby, he pulled out his sword.

It would not be enough.

It disarmed him easily, before he even had a chance to swing his blade and before he could do ought else, it moved with incredible speed and buried the dagger in his side. Théoden cried out in pain and it twisted the serrated blade in his flesh before brutally yanking it out. The king fell to his knees but it made no move to finish the job.

The blow was mortal. They both knew it. And its master preferred it when there was a witness to an assassination. It showed what came from crossing him. Sheathing the blade, it delivered one final kick to the fallen king's midsection ere leaving.

As it left, Théoden staggered to his feet, clutching the wound. It looked like he would be joining his fathers before too long more passed. His heart clenched as he thought of his people, and his killer. He knew that Buffy had been more than she seemed, but he had not thought her so low as to be a servant of Saruman. He had to warn his people. He had to do what he could to save them while he still had time. And the strength.

Ripping a swathe of fabric from a nearby banner, he wrapped it around the wound, stemming the flow of blood for now. And then he threw his cloak over him, an act that would go unmarked in the foul weather, to hide the blood.

He wished that Théodred were here, and Éomer. But one was dead and the other gone from him. And what remained of the House of Eorl was here; - a dying man, and a brash Shieldmaiden. May the gods have mercy on them.

He knew in his heart that for too long had he been a bad King, a dotard and thanks to the treachery of Gríma Wormtongue and Saruman, an enemy to the well-being of his people. It was time to redeem himself now. And put aside old grievances.

He would pass control over to Aragorn, and hope with every fibre of his being that the man could do what he could not and save the people of Rohan.

He owed them that.

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Aragorn staggered up, pushing bits of rubble off him and wondered at his narrow escape.

Minutes before the wall gave way from beneath them, Haldir and Legolas seemed to have spotted something that had them blanching. When Aragorn had looked to see what the cries were about, he had seen the Balrog, something he had dearly hoped to never see again. But then Legolas had given the signal to pull back; both the Prince and the Marchwarden had directed him to calm down the panicking Rohirrim rather than trying to figure out a way to get out of this mess. How Aragorn had wished for Gandalf then!

And mere moments ere the wall had fallen; Legolas had called him over urgently, seeming to want to show him something. If he had not responded to the Elf's call and headed for one of the side turrets, Aragorn would have been caught up in the massive explosion that had killed so many. Apparently, some sort of providence had saved him.

Looking around and digging up his sword, he noticed that the Elves kept behind the wall for reinforcements were engaging the hordes of Uruk-hai and Dunlendings swarming the fortress, and any and all Rohirrim not providing arrow volleys were scrambling down to help them. He had not been out long but in that time, masses of orcs and Saruman's forces had gotten through and now had to be dealt with by those that had followed the first warning and fled to the Dike.

Up on the side wall that was still standing, Haldir and Legolas were directing what remained of the Elven archers to try to stop the flow of enemies coming through. And his good friend Gimli was not ten feet off, hacking at the orcs with a Dwarven temper at being catapulted through the air.

But then Aragorn saw something that caught his attention immediately. The Uruks, in tortoise formation, shields all around them to protect them from arrow fire, were advancing on the causeway. And if they did not have a battering ram in them, then Aragorn was a Dwarf.

Running towards his friends, he shouted up at the Elves, seeing Gamling race into the keep out of the corner of his eye, "Na fennas!" he shouted, "Na fennas! Glamhoth!" Legolas's head whipped around and instantly, he directed the nearest line of archers to aim at the column of Uruks, but their shields were good and penetrating the column was no easy task. Too few fell away due to the volley. (Causeway! Orcs!)

And with that, he waded into the ever more hopeless task of trying to drive the orcs back.

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Buffy groaned as she cracked open her eyes. Was this beat up Buffy day or something? she wondered dismally, 'cos it sure felt like it.

Hearing the sound of many booted feet racing over stone and the cries of orcs and men drowning out the singing of bows and arrows, Buffy realised that she was still knee deep in the fight. Throwing off the rubble that had hidden her from view, she crawled out from underneath the displaced stone and as an orc tried to mow her down, threw some of it at the miserable creature.

Then she looked up and saw the gaping chasm in the wall. She shook her head in dismay, "One wall," she admonished herself softly, "Not even one wall! And you let it get blown up! Way to go Buffy." Looking at her poor sword, which looked in bad need of a repair job by this stage, she joined the orcs swarming into the fortress. After all, she still had a dark slayer to hunt down.

Her fury was enough to have her hacking her way through the Uruks until she was within what remained of the walls. She had elected not to use Narya. It went all wrong last time and besides, she would need some serious firepower to kill the thing that had stolen her face.

But her blood went chill at the sight of it getting nearer to Aragorn. She had already failed him once. She was not going to watch another man she loved be speared upon her blade. He did not notice anything different. There was no time. He was fighting for his life. And with her own standoffish, unpredictable behavuiour towards him of late, how would he notice anything with his back turned to her? In the dizzy rush of battle, it would be so easy to miss it. Too easy to miss it.

Instantly, she was in motion, and she could pinpoint the exact second it saw her. Black eyes had flashed with anger, and it ran towards Aragorn. She would not make it in time.

"Aragorn!" she called, "Behind you! Watch out behind you! Demon!"

His head turned at her voice and then he swung around to face the threat and his eyes went wide. His head snapped between the two of them warily. Buffy gave him no chance to waver, "It's me, ranger boy," she said, even as he drew away from both of them, "Use the bond. You'll know!"

He did just that and his head swivelled in her direction as he moved towards her. She sighed in premature relief. "Get out of the way. I'll take care of monster-me." she said briskly.

"You have a plan?" Aragorn asked, still staring at her double.

"I am the plan." she replied coldly, "Isn't that right, bitch? Nobody messes with my boyfriend! And just look what you did to my clothes!"

xxxx

As she advanced on the livid looking shape-shifter, intent on spilling blood and ending the threat, Théoden's eyes were boggling from the windows of the Keep. "It seems I may have misjudged her after all," he murmured.

"My lord?" Gamling asked in concern.

Théoden waved him away, "You are to follow Lord Aragorn's orders. He commands this battle now. I shall merely try to hold the gates. Is that understood?"

"But Your Majesty…" the man protested.

Théoden cut him off, "Is that understood?"

"Yes, sire." Gamling answered, and they then resumed their fight to keep the orcs out.

xxxx

As Buffy advanced, she saw the first flicker of fear in her double's eyes. It seemed to know that this time, she meant business.

It snarled at her, but she did not slow down. Even as Aragorn watched in disbelief, taking down any Uruk-hai stupid enough to come near them, Gimli was having a nice long stare at them too, before shouting up to 'squirrel boy' and 'pointy-ears', also known as Legolas and Haldir, to have a look too.

Their blades met in a clash of sparks and the ring of steel on steel, and this time, Buffy was going for the kill. There was none of her previous hesitation, the lingering remnant of the fire that had rolled through her for the Balrog increasing her strength. And even as they fought one another, both playing dirty at every chance they got, Buffy held Narya ready to cast the deciding blow.

But again, they were so evenly matched that it took a while before it realised that it was slowly losing. Even if it escaped the slayer's grasp now, it had been revealed for an impostor. Flipping over Buffy's blade, it tried to go for the jugular and the slayer barely blocked the unexpected move, wobbling slightly as her balance was thrown off.

That was all the opening it needed.

It morphed into an ordinary Rohirrim soldier, nearly indistinguishable from the real wet, muddy and wounded Rohirrim that still fought; one of the countless it had killed that night, and made to run.

Even as Buffy wheeled around, she knew she would not reach it in time. And so, going by instinct, she hefted a large pike, cast aside by some fallen soldier and threw it as hard as she could. The wood and steel impacted against the creature and ripped right through its chest. And even as Buffy watched the weapon skewer it, Narya set it alight.

It died in flames, even as Buffy stood guard to make sure that it didn't come back to haunt her. Until it was ash. The super hot flame of Narya crumbling its very bones. "For one to live another must die…" she murmured.

And as she caught her breath, standing still in the middle of a raging battlefield, Aragorn put an arm around her and though she cursed her own weakness; for once, she leaned on somebody else.

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But even as Buffy took her first real step towards Aragorn, by allowing herself to lean on him when she was feeling weak, Gimli was having problems of his own.

As the orcs had avoided the two duelling Buffys like the plague, they were slamming into the defences that the remaining Elves held and the lone Dwarf was helping them to bear the brunt of the assault.

But then the call came, Théoden roaring out through a window, "Aragorn! Fall back to the Keep! Get your men out of there!"

The ranger nodded, and he and the slayer burst into action, "Na Barad! Na Barad! Haldir, na Barad!" the ranger roared. The Marchwarden nodded and Legolas jumped down with a few Elves to clear a way to the keep. (To the Keep! To the Keep! Haldir, to the Keep!)

But Haldir was one of the last to make a run for it, and there were scarce few allies around him when it happened. Only Gimli saw his need.

Even as the Elf whirled around atop the remnant of the wall, slashing at his enemies with his sword and knife, an Uruk came up behind him and caught him unawares. "Hey! Pointy-ears!" Gimli bellowed in warning, "Behind you!"

The call saved Haldir's life, the blade slashed past his cheek and bit into his arm instead of his head but the Elf still went down, tumbling off the wall and landing harshly, where another orc lunged to finish him off.

Even as the Elf tried to stagger up, clutching his wounded arm, and failed to even raise himself enough to sit up, Gimli was there. Swinging his axe, he swiftly decapitated, hacked and killed the orcs swarming around the downed Elf.

Then when he had a second to catch his breath, he looked at the Elf in perplexity. Seeing that the Elf couldn't get up and that there was no one around to help, Gimli muttered a soft 'sorry' to him and then swiftly knocked him out. Satisfied that the Elf would not now feel like he was being lugged about like a sack of potatoes, Gimli grabbed his uninjured arm and started dragging him back to the Keep.

Even as he cut down anything that came near him, he somehow managed to drag Haldir into the waiting arms of his comrades, who gasped in horror at the state of the Marchwarden.

Aragorn dropped down beside him. "What happened?" he asked as he surveyed the wounded Elf.

"Orcs got him." Gimli replied, "And I had to drag the big squirrel all the way here."

But as Aragorn worked to stem the bleeding, he felt sad for the downed Elf. Even from his limited examination, he could tell that the arm was going to be permanently injured. If he ever regained full use of it, he would be surprised. And as he instructed one of the Elves to get Haldir to the healers, with sharp instructions not to jostle his severely bruised torso and ribs, Aragorn was forced to forego being any more help to a friend to jump back into the fight, with the stout Dwarf at his side.

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"They have retreated to the Keep," Éowyn said, watching the children flinch as the noises of bombardment and the cries of the fighters grew louder. "You know what this means. They have got past the Deeping Wall. It will be not be long now ere they break in."

Even as she finished saying the words they all dreaded, the first bang was heard on the hidden door to the caves. The adults tried to muffle the children's cries of fear, but it was no use. The orcs knew they were there. Gríma had informed Saruman well of the defences. "They are breaking in!" one woman cried in dismay.

"They are past the door!" wailed another.

Éowyn rose smoothly to her feet and drew her sword, "Halina, Aldor, you know what to do. Take the children out through the passages. And if all else fails, get them to Dunharrow. We will try to buy you time."

"Aye, my lady," they chorused and started to herd the children, each clutching food and blankets, down the narrow passageway. Those too old or unable to fight, due to pregnancy, injury or illness followed them.

As they left, all those who remained to fight, turned to Éowyn.

"Rohan is our land, just as much as it is for those who have fought and died for it already." the Shieldmaiden began, "They are losing. We know this. You have the choice now. You can follow your children and what family you have that have already escaped down the passageway or you can join the fight. No shame shall lie upon you for turning back."

Another bang, louder than the first, and causing dust to shake down upon them from the ceiling, cut her off. She resumed, trying to remain calm. Was this not what she had wanted? A chance to fight? But she could feel no joy in the opportunity when she looked at the women who looked back at her, frightened but determined. "Who is with me?"

The bangs came again, each one shaking the door, and the women looked at it in dismay. "My lady," one said, "If we go out there like this, we shall die. Have you no plan?"

"I know not what awaits us out there. But half of you must go down the passageway, to safeguard those that cannot guard themselves. I expect none of you to follow me. Kill the orcs that come in here, and you safeguard Rohan's future. Not this fortress, but Rohan's children. We have no time, get into place!"

Even as she barked out the order, the orcs were forcing their way through. Their blades were curved and dirty, their lust for the kill evident to see but to the credit of most of them, the women who had never before seen battle, especially not in closed quarters, did not flinch away from their task.

Most of them knew how to shoot. Those from the Westfold needed to be able to kill the wolves that might plague their herd in the winter, if food was scarce elsewhere. The first volley of arrows, well placed, knocking the first line of orcs down. From the corner of her eye, she could see the women chosen to guard the passageway, half-emptying their quivers and then dodging down the passageway to guard the children.

Swinging her own blade, she led the charge. The orcs were strong, but they were nimble. And Éowyn had instructed them to seek to inflict an incapacitating wound. She deliberately ignored the women that fell to the orcs' blades or got injured. She had to drive them out, only then could she worry.

They were lucky in some ways. In that not many of the orcs had broken off to find them. Only fifty or so. Compared to the numbers she knew must be swarming the keep, it was a small group.

"Mama!" came a frightened cry as a little girl tore back up the passageway, having broken away from her minders. "Mama!" she screamed as she saw her startled mother take a blow to her shoulder.

"Freda!" the woman yelled, "Go! Get out of here! Freda! Leave!"

But the little girl heard nothing and the orcs ran her down even as her mother screamed in rage and pain. Éowyn thought she would hear that scream for the rest of her life.

The cold sting of a blade sliced through her own arm and her eyes flashed in renewed anger, as she ducked and parried, and then drove her blade home. And though it seemed an age that she was doing the same task, 'twas only a few minutes before the last of the orcs retreated under heavy fire.

But she knew they would only come back with more.

As some of the women used anything they could find to bar the entrance, and more helped those injured to move down the passageway, two women forcibly dragging Freda's mother away from the little girl's body, Éowyn slipped out.

She was a Lady of Rohan. A Shieldmaiden. She would lure the orcs away. If they saw one woman fighting out from the caves, they would assume all were out and running. She would buy them time.

It was her duty.

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But try as they might, they were eventually forced back to the keep, despite their best efforts.

And forced to watch as banners of the White Hand flew from the top of the battlements. And so, in the hall, they gathered.

Théoden felt dizzy from the blood loss, but thanked the gods that no one had marked it as anything more than exhaustion. "This is the end," he said in disgust, "The fortress is taken. It is over."

Aragorn whirled to glare at him, even as the remaining Elves and Men moved to barricade the door. "Théoden King," he said sharply, "You said this fortress would never fall while your men defend it! They still defend it! They have died defending it! You cannot give up now!"

"What would you have me do?" Théoden said wearily, "Orcs swarm the keep. The Deeping Wall is in pieces. Saruman's banner flies from my own keep! What can I do? How can I stop this? I give you the charge to do what you will, son of Arathorn, but I know of nothing."

Aragorn, seeing the exhaustion, softened his voice some, "Is there no other way for the women and children to get out of the caves? Is there no other way?"

There was silence from the Rohirrim, until Gamling spoke up and said what none wanted to say, "There is one passage. It leads into the mountains. But they will not get far. The Uruk-hai are too many."

"They are not," a cool voice broke in, causing heads to whip in her direction. Éowyn, bloodied and dirty, but alive, entered the room, "The orcs broke into the caves some time ago. We held them off and drove them away. Now, the children are hopefully halfway to Dunharrow, and the women that guard them all have blades and bows. You need not worry about their safety."

Buffy smiled at her, "Guess you really took that advice to heart, huh?"

Éowyn smiled back, weary but yet triumphant, "Today, the women of the Mark proved that they have as much valour as the men," she said, looking at her shocked uncle, "Are we to give up now? When so many have been defeated already?"

"Éowyn…" Théoden said, almost speechless, but then he laughed quietly, causing his niece to look at him strangely, "If you had been born a man, daughter of Éomund, what a king you would have made! Your foes would flee before you. But instead, you have proved that you are a queen at heart. You did good work in saving them; for I have no doubt that it was you who instigated them to fight. It will not be forgotten in the history of the Mark."

Éowyn stared at him, and his words of approval. Words that no man had said to her until this day. Buffy crossed to her and clapped her on the shoulder, "Welcome to the club, Éowyn," she said, "Now let's just hope you survive your initiation. Wouldn't want this to be your first and last battle, would we?"

"Okay, we've established the impossible," Buffy said, "We've gotten rid of some nasty things today. Are we going to let a bunch of miserable orcs stand in our way? Doesn't anybody have any ideas?"

Aragorn paused. Maybe it was time to take a leap of faith. What had they to lose? 'Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day! At dawn, look to the East…' Gandalf had said. Dare he trust him now? But Gandalf had not let them down before. Maybe it was time to just trust him….

Turning to Théoden, he said unexpectedly, "Ride out with me." he implored, "Ride out and meet them. One last charge to go down in song."

Beside Legolas, Gimli snorted, "Give me one good reason," he huffed.

Buffy had caught on to what Aragorn was thinking, and while she did not think it was a great idea. It was an idea and that was something. "It'll be extremely dangerous." she said teasingly.

Gimli smirked at her, "I'm in."

She turned to Théoden, "I'm in too. I mean, it has been a long day with the crusades. I could take a little break from the violence for some... ooh, fighting!" she said, glaring at Legolas who stuck his tongue out at her. What was it with Wood Elves and near death situations, she wondered. For crying out loud, she had even heard that sometimes, when he was in a particularly good mood, Thranduil liked to sing or hum when killing orcs. A weird family, she thought, but good in a fight.

Théoden looked up, and for the first time since the keep was invaded, some sort of determination took root in him. He was dying, he thought, let him make such an end as to be worthy of song.

"For death and glory…." he said softly.

Aragorn urged him on, "For Rohan. For your people."

Théoden stood up and his cloak fell back. At the sight of the blood, the whole room fell silent. Éowyn made to go to him but he gestured for her to stay back. "It is a mortal wound," he said softly, "If this is to truly be my last stand, then I say that we shall ride out. I name Éomer, my nephew, as my heir now before you. And until he should return, Éowyn shall rule in my place. And if Éomer does not return, then Éowyn shall be Rohan's first ruling queen. She would do the House of Eorl proud."

He waved away any attempts at healing and after a quick look; Aragorn knew that Théoden spoke true. He was too severely injured. There was nothing they could do for him. "This is my choice," Théoden said firmly, "We ride."

"You're a better man than I thought you were, Théoden king," Buffy said, with a hint of respect.

He looked back at her, and replied in the same grudging tone, "And you are a better woman than I gave you credit for, whatever you are."

Gimli looked out the window, "The sun is rising. We have survived the night at least. Must be your luck laddie."

Buffy looked out the window too, and saw the faint flickers of a light that was growing stronger, "When did morning happen?"

"After the moon went down." Legolas said with a smirk. She glared at him.

Théoden looked at Gimli, "Shall the horn of Helm Hammerhand sound in the Deep one last time, Master Dwarf?"

"It would be my honour," Gimli replied and left to blow the horn.

The horses were saddled and weapons held ready and then Théoden moved his horse to the front of the column, "Do not mourn my passing," he said, "For too long I was a blind King and served his people ill. Let me remembered as I am today, if you must." And then he held up his sword and faced the doors, "Let this be the hour when we draw swords together. Fell deeds awake…. Now for wrath! Now for ruin! And a red dawn!

"Darn tootin'" Buffy replied.

The horn blasted throughout the keep, penetrating every corner of the fortress and men and orcs heard it in wonder. Théoden waved his sword at the sound, ""FORTH EORLINGAS!"

And then the doors swung open, and they charged out like there was not a horde of orcs in their way.

To whatever end.

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As Théoden led the reckless charge, mowing down orcs with abandon; the full wrath of the Rohirrim lashing out at the multitude of orcs, two lone riders crested the ridge.

Firefoot danced under him as he looked at the rider beside him, "We have made it,"

Gandalf looked at the chaos below, "And with no time to spare." He glanced at Éomer, "Théoden king stands alone."

Éomer's jaw tightened, "Not alone," he said with conviction, raising his sword, "Rohirrim!" he bellowed.

The combined thousands of riders, made up of those who had travelled with Éomer when he left Edoras and the forces of Lord Erkenbrand, whom they had stumbled across during the night, moved forward, cresting the ridge and the first line alone looked formidable.

Éomer looked behind and a fell expression was upon his face, "To the king!" he bellowed, "To the king!"

The riders roared, drawing the orcs attention and then Gandalf and Éomer led the charge down the steep incline, like a wave of steel and fury.

Down below, all the fighters looked up at the roar, to see the thousands of riders charge down the slope led by a glowing white rider. "Gandalf…" Aragorn breathed.

Buffy smiled at his side, "Let's kick butt!" she said with glee as the orcs started to realise their dilemma and started to run as the first wave of riders crashed into them and joined in a battle that had just tipped in Rohan's favour.

As what remained of the fellowship attacked together, Éowyn stuck close to her wounded uncle and so it was that when an orc blade caught his mount, Snowmane's knee, causing the horse to tumble to the ground with the king, she was there to witness it. Even as riders swarmed past them, driving the orcs away, she was scrambling down from her mount, and running to her uncle.

"Uncle!" she cried, as she saw him buried under his beloved mount, but he did not respond and his eyes were blank and unseeing. Tears slipped down her cheeks even as she closed the vacant eyes and mourned the loss of her kinsman and her king. And then, rage filling her, she took up her sword and with a yell, rejoined the battle, hacking and slashing with abandon until she came upon Buffy. The slayer broke away from Elf and ranger to watch her back and they fought together until it seemed that suddenly, there were no more enemies rushing them. The orcs were fleeing the Deep.

Seeing Gandalf not twenty feet away, she went to him. Éomer was beside him and he smiled at the sight of her, "I heard I missed out on some fun."

She groaned, trust one of the Rohirrim, "Oh, yeah, fun was had. Also frolic, merriment, and near-death hi-jinks." Then she turned her attention towards Gandalf, and casually folded her arms across her chest and smirked at him, "A little on the late side aren't we?"

She gave a pointed glare at Gandalf who looked indignant, "A wizard is never late. He arrives precisely when he means to."

"And would that be after the battle is over?" she answered sweetly.

But Éowyn came over to them then, and Éomer started at the sight of her. "Éowyn!" he cried, "What are you doing here?"

"Fighting for my country," she replied, "The same as you."

Gandalf forestalled any fight Éomer might have made over his sister participating in battle, "We have much to do yet. Where is Théoden king?"

Éowyn's tear-streaked face seemed to have more significance then and she was the first to both break the news and to hail it. Closing her eyes, she said a final prayer for her fallen uncle and then she did what had to be done and curtseyed to her brother, and her voice was clear and strong, "Hail Éomer king!"

He looked at her in dawning comprehension and Buffy put a hand on her arm in sympathy.

It was over.

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A/N: Well? Opinions please! What do you guys think? Unexpected enough? Enough action for one battle? Please READ and REVIEW!

Next chapter: Éomer takes up a heavy burden… A visit to Isengard…. The return to Edoras… An incident with a Palantír… And Faramir gets a chance to show his 'quality'….

Elvish:

Dagnir - slayer

Dúnadan - Man of the West

Na fennas - causeway

Glamhoth - orcs

Na Barad - to the keep

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Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

Dunharrow - Fortified refuge in the Ered Nimrais. It is the mountain refuge of the people of Rohan. In addition, the entrance to the Paths of the Dead is there.

Durin's Bane - the Balrog of Moria. Killed Durin VI in 1980.

Ecthelion - Lord of the House of the Fountain in Gondolin in the First Age. Died in defence of the city, killing the lord of Balrogs, Gothmog, a Captain of Angband. While battling him, Elf and Balrog fell into a fountain and though Ecthelion killed his enemy, the weight of his armour dragged him down and he drowned.

Éomund of Eastfold - Chief Marshal of the Mark. Was brother-in-law to Théoden King of Rohan and father to Éomer and Éowyn.

Gríma Wormtongue - Counsellor of King Théoden and agent of Saruman.

Hornburg - fortress in Rohan at the entrance to Helm's Deep

House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

Mithril - 'true-silver'. Also called 'Moria-silver'. It was the foundation of the wealth of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It was worth ten times the price of gold, and is now considered priceless, because there has been no supply of it since the fall of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm in 1980 TA.

Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

Orthanc - the great Númenórean tower in the Circle of Isengard. Home of Saruman.

Théodred - Son of King Théoden of Rohan, slain in the First Battle of the Fords of Isen.

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