"In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable."
-Dwight D. Eisenhower

"Lady Amelia! Where is the Lady Amelia?" Amelia looked up from her work, to see a rohirric guard asking the healers and Amelia gave the man she was working on an apologetic look. Then, she turned and called out for the nearest nurse, asking her to take over for a moment, since she was needed elsewhere. The nurse begrudgingly did so and Amelia wiped her bloody hands on her brown dress. Her arms were covered in blood and sticky gore up to her elbows, since she had had to roll up her sleeves to work with those tending to the wounded. At one point, there had been no one else available and she had to physically shove a man's guts back inside his body. She had thrown up afterwards, but no one seemed surprised and she continued on with her work after having caught some fresh air for a few minutes. By then, it was late in the day, the sun having begun to set. Her hair was loose, with a lock from each side of her face hastily tied together at the back of her head, to free her face from any hair, but a few loose strands still hung down and she was covered in sweat.

"She's right here." Amelia called to the guard, hurrying towards him. "Please don't tell me you've found another one who needs his entrails stuffed back in place." The guard shook his head, covered in chainmail so that only his face was visible. He looked young, with dark blonde scruff and foggy, blue eyes.

"No, my lady. The king requests your presence, and so does Lord Aragorn." Amelia raised her eyebrows at the man.

"So he's back. Give me a moment to wash my hands and I'll be right there." Amelia didn't have time to wash all the gore off of her arms, only hastily dip her palms in a bowl of water and slosh a bit of it on her face without drying it. Her dress was splattered with droplets of water, blood and a hint of bile as she hurried through the keep, paying no mind to the guards who glanced at her nervously as she threw open the doors to the king's hall herself, leaving sticky handprints behind when her palms left the wood.

"You rang?" She kept her voice light and conversational, despite the fact that she appeared covered in sweat and with bloody arms. Théoden stood conversing with Aragorn, who truly did look like he had fallen in a river and dragged himself back out of it, Legolas, who looked as calm as ever, Gimli, who wore his helmet once again, and Boromir, who looked weary and tired already. The king turned towards her and frowned a bit at her filthy appearance.

"I did call for you." He simply stated and Amelia raised her eyebrows.

"I assume you didn't bring me here just to enjoy more of my charming personality." Théoden scoffed softly and Amelia hurried over, to punch Aragorn lightly on the shoulder. "No more cliff-diving from now on. Got it?" Aragorn gave her a weary grin, one that she returned.

"Aragorn and Lord Boromir tells me you have some manner of… foresight." Théoden didn't sound like he thought much of that. "While I may be… skeptical of any claim of such abilities, have you any information to offer, I would accept it." Amelia blinked at the unexpected proposal and hesitated with answering him.

"I'm afraid I can't just… tell you everything. If I tell you something good's going to happen, you might get lazy and then that might not happen after all and if I tell you something bad's going to happen, you'll probably try to avoid it and, well…" She glanced quickly at Boromir. "That just might make it worse, or even better, change things so badly that it changes how everything's supposed to go and then, I'll be entirely useless to you, but, that being said… what do you want to know?" Théoden looked unhappy with her statement, but he turned away from them and stood still, hands clasped behind his back.

"By which time will the forces of Isengard reach us?" He asked and Amelia felt a small pang of relief at getting a question that she was able to answer.

"Soon after dark, I think. They'll attack when it start to rain, if it does." She was aware that she was being a little vague and confusing, but her need to only tell what was necessary trumped the one to do what was right.

"And their numbers?"

"Ten thousand strong at least." Aragorn spoke before Amelia could and she remembered that he had probably seen the approaching army when he made his way to the Hornburg. Théoden turned around with a horrified expression.

"Ten thousand?" He echoed, his eyes despairing.

"Saruman isn't pulling any punches." Amelia shifted a bit on her feet.

"It is an army bred for a single purpose." Théoden stepped closer to Aragorn, to better hear his explaining of his ominous words. "To destroy the world of men."

"Well, that's cheery." Amelia mumbled the words to herself as Théoden turned and strode out the hall, a grim expression dawning on his face.

"Let them come." His words were bold, but dark, and Amelia grimaced as she, Aragorn and Boromir hurried after him. Legolas and Gimli stayed behind. As Théoden gave out orders left and right, Amelia and Boromir began a quiet discussion.

"You've been working with the healers?" Boromir eyed the gunk on her arms.

"Yeah. They needed the extra hands. I don't think I'm very good at it though. I'm still not sure whether I shoved that guy's intestines in the right way or not. Either way, I doubt he'll actually make it, but that was just a warm-up. It's going to get much worse very soon."

"Aye, it will."

"I want every man and strong lad able to bear arms to be ready for battle by nightfall." Théoden's orders were determined and the man he gave them to nodded and hurried away, to spread the word of the king's command. He strode out the large doors leading into the keep, stepping back to watch the men working to enforce and bar it from the inside. "We will cover the way in from above." He told Aragorn and Amelia blinked, her mind snapping back to the old, medieval siege games Tobias had always been so fascinated with.

"Do you have any oil?" She asked the question abruptly, realizing that it did not make much sense.

"For what purpose?" Théoden asked brusquely.

"Well… if you had enough, you could boil it and pour it down on those dumb enough to attempt getting into the keep via the front door. That might discourage them from taking the obvious route." Théoden's eyes lit up with interest and he gave her a short nod.

"It will be so, my lady." Amelia stared at him.

"What, just like that?" She exclaimed at the king. "Well, that was easier than I thought…"

"No enemies has ever set foot inside the Hornburg or breached its walls." Théoden declared proudly and Amelia's confidence faltered slightly.

"No offense, but these aren't just… orcs. Uruk-Hai are worse, so much worse. They nearly killed me and they're stronger, smarter, more powerful and… and Saruman has an army of the damn things!" Théoden stepped closer to her and both Aragorn and Boromir tensed.

"I have fought many wars, Lady Amelia. I know how to defend my own keep."

"Then why take my suggestion about the oil at all? Get off your high horse, would you? This is about more than how many wars we've fought in, but of course it all comes down to who thinks the highest of themselves in the end."

"Amelia." Boromir snapped at her and she swung towards him and clenched her fists.

"Don't even start. I don't know how many, but a lot of good people are going to die tonight, no matter what we do, but just how many really depends on how big a fool the king decides to be." Théoden's blue eyes narrowed at her.

"I would have you thrown in the dungeon…" He threatened and Amelia snarled silently at him. The tension was thick in the air. "Had I not needed your swordarm on this very evening." Amelia laughed coldly at his words as she held her head high, boldly meeting his eyes.

"Throwing people in jail for telling the truth?" She spat venomously. "No wonder you people are still stuck fighting with swords and bows. You, all of you…" She glared at Boromir, Aragorn and Théoden, backing away. "You are definitely the stupidest people I've ever had the displeasure of meeting." She snorted mockingly. "Kings. Swordfighting. Horseriding. Fucking wars and men telling women to mind their own fucking business while they go out playing hero and treat us like cattle." Her eyes flamed and her voice cracked through the air like a whip. "I wish I had never met you, I… I wish I had never been dragged into this mess to begin with! And I just had to lose my backpack too!" She lowered her voice, hissing the words out between her teeth. "When I find Gandalf, I am going straight home. No more prophesies. No more fighting. No more of this fucked-up fairytale that I've fooled myself into thinking I could actually live!" She shouted the last words out, letting them ring out in the valley before she turned around with stinging eyes. She stormed back into the keep and the crowd parted for her at her stormy expression, as if she was a leper. She didn't realize that she was being followed until someone grabbed her good arm and yanked her back. She stared into Boromir's stern face and tried to pull her arm free.

"Let me go!" She spat at him.

"No." His grip tightened slightly when she pulled again. "You are not thinking clearly."

"I am!" She yelled angrily, getting a few odd looks from the armed men hurrying past them. "I am the only damn person here thinking clearly! You're all… you're so… frustrating!" Amelia finally managed to yank her arm free of Boromir's grasp, but she was too caught up in her argument to walk away from him.

"And may I ask why you are angry at me as well?" He raised his voice slightly. "What have I done to deserve this?"

"Shut up!" Amelia yelled at him aggressively. "I'm not listening to anything you have to say!"

"Think about what you're saying for once!" He spat back at her, gesturing wildly with his hands. "You don't hate us and you don't want to go home. It's not in your nature to give up once you've committed yourself to a cause!"

"And who said I ever committed to anything?" Amelia turned and stomped away, but Boromir kept following her. "I didn't ask for this. I didn't agree to this. All I ever did was get dragged into another world's war without so much as a warning."

"But you intend to see this through." He sounded so sure of himself.

"And how would you know?"

"Because I know you." Amelia froze, but didn't turn around to look at him. Then, her shoulders sagged and she crossed her arms. She rubbed her face with her right hand and hung her head.

"Damn you." Her voice was little more than a weak whisper. "Damn you all to hell." Then, she straightened her back and fled and she felt only the tiniest flutter of relief when Boromir decided to let her be and not to follow her.

Amelia's feet carried her aimlessly around the keep and, for a moment, she saw Éowyn hurrying towards the caves of the inner keep, where the women and children were to hide from the Uruk-Hai during the fight, but she didn't call out to her, for she looked busy enough already. Instead, Amelia, after a scant half an hour of walking around with no particular purpose to it, found herself in the armory, where elderly men, young boys and a few guards were already getting outfitted. As she hurried inside, more men came to join those already there, looking terrified beyond all reason at the prospect of taking part in a battle.

Amelia knew that, while she may attend to the wounded and walk many miles in a dress, she could not go into a battle in one, but as it turned out, the rohirrim could take care of that easily enough. She insisted on keeping on her black boots and pants, but she was provided with a sturdy chainmail, thankfully not one of those that went up to cover the head as well, and a tight, brown leather cuirass to pull on over it. It wasn't exactly fashionable, but Amelia did not complain once she saw the fearful, hopeless faces of the old men and the young boys getting their pieces as well.

Guards handed out sword, spears, bows and arrows, but even though Amelia made no claim to understanding swords, even she could tell that most of the blades were rusty or dull and the feathers on the bows were broken on the majority.

Silence suddenly fell among the scuffling men and Amelia stretched to see Aragorn and Legolas facing each other, neither one of them looking particularly happy in that moment. Amelia couldn't judge whether they were unhappy with the situation or each other. She settled for a mix between the two. Legolas turned away and said something in elvish, which Aragorn answered with obvious faked hope.

"Aragorn…" Legolas said, but then said something intense in elvish with a grim expression.

"Then I shall die as one of them!" Aragorn cried and stepped forwards, but then he realized that most weren't so stupid as to be unable to deduce what their discussion had been about from that sentence alone and he rushed away, leaving Legolas standing alone. Then, Legolas turned and, for a brief moment, Amelia looked him in the eye. She didn't smile or shake her head, but merely held his gaze for a moment before she turned away as well, hurrying after Aragorn.

"Hey!" She called after him as she rushed after him. He was walking down a staircase quickly, his hands shaking, but he whirled as soon as she called for him and she nearly walked into him.

"How?" His voice was hoarse. "How do we have any hope of making it through the night?" It was the first time Amelia had heard his voice shake and she frowned. It did not become him to be so desperate.

"We do have it." Amelia answered in a hollow voice, for she knew that whatever comfort she could provide would only end up having disastrous consequences, due to her having to reveal too much of what was to happen. "Remember Gandalf? He said he'll be back. I doubt he just rode off for the heck of it." Aragorn's eyes brightened slightly as he remembered the white wizard. "Aragorn?" He blinked at her. "Can I ask you for a favor?"

"You can." He nodded reluctantly. "But it does depend on the favor."

"Right." Amelia shifted slightly on her feet and swung her arms. "Would you look after Boromir tonight?" Aragorn looked surprised at his request and she sighed. "I'm just… he's one of the few people who I just don't know anything about, you know? I don't know what the future has in store for him. I'd be grateful if you kept an eye on him." Aragorn gave her an even look, but then nodded slowly. Amelia exhaled. "Good. That's… great. Thank you. Don't tell him though. I doubt he'd appreciate me worrying about him." Aragorn didn't answer her and she awkwardly turned around, wondering why Aragorn suddenly looked at her with such a pensive look in his eyes.

She shook the thought out of her head as she walked along the ramparts, looking out over the plains with a frown on her face. She rested a hand on her sword and desperately tried to convince herself that she was going to make it through the night, along with Boromir and all of her friends, but the nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong refused to leave her, making her irritated and restless in the hours that followed, where night truly fell on the Hornburg. She only grew more agitated when she realized that no elves were arriving and that that particular bit had ever actually happened or she had messed up somehow, greatly diminishing the chances of success at all by causing the absence of the elves. She began to chant a steady "shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…" to herself as she paced uneasily.

"You claim to know of our victory or defeat… and you seem worried." Amelia nearly had a heart attack at Legolas' sudden appearance, standing calmly and looking at her with those piercing eyes of his.

"Jesus!" She exclaimed, attempting to calm her quickened breathing. "You… damn elves and your elfiness. Yes, I'm bloody well worried, but I can assure you, my concern is entirely selfish and has nothing to do with anyone else." She paused. "That came out wrong." Legolas shook his fair head fondly at her and it occurred to Amelia that it was their first time talking since Amon Hen. "What about you? You didn't exactly seem positive back in the armory." Legolas' face fell slightly and he frowned.

"I worry for tonight." He turned away. "But there is one thing that gives me cause to hope."

"Which is?" Amelia was fairly curious as to what spurred on Legolas, but she wasn't prepared for the strange answer that she got.

"Your presence." He smiled slightly. "And that of Boromir as well. Do not misunderstand me." He seemed quick to explain himself, due to the perplexed look that Amelia gave him. "You are a selfish person, but when you care for others, you get protective to the point of risking your life to keep them out of harm's way. Were we all doomed to die this night, I doubt you would have brought Boromir here. You would have kept him, and yourself, safe." The simplicity of the elf's logic was slightly unnerving, but more so was the fact that, if they thought about it, anyone in the keep could reach the same conclusion quite easily. Amelia finally gave up wrestling with her will to keep her secret safe based on pure instinct and threw caution to the wind.

"Alright. You got me. And you're right. I am selfish. If this battle was lost before it began, I wouldn't be here and if Boromir had tried to go here if we were going to lose, I'd have tied him up to prevent it." Legolas gave her a small smile, one that she returned as she looked out into the darkness.

Night was upon them.