Chance Encounter

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognize. I'm just borrowing them without permission but with every intention of returning them to their rightful owners.

Chapter 24: The First Wave

Thunder clashed, like the sound of shield against shield. Lightning exploded in the sky, foreshadowing a great storm. Balian glanced up. The clouds had rallied. It was going to rain soon.

"Sir Balian!" he heard someone call. It was Éothain. The boy was dressed in armour that was too big for him and holding a sword awkwardly. The other boys were in the same condition. The looked absolutely terrified, although they tried to put on brave faces.

"Are you ready for this?" asked Balian. Éothain nodded, although some of the others looked uncertain.

"Sir," said one of Éothain's companions. "How can we win?" Balian realised that he was surrounded by a sea of frightened boys who were looking to him for answers. 'How can they win if they feel as if they can't?' he thought.

"We have no knights or riders," continued the boy.

"Truly?" said Balian, looking at each and every one of them. Then he turned to Éothain. "You said you wanted to be a knight. Do you still want to be?"

The Rohirrim boy nodded.

"Kneel!" said Balian. "If you want to be a knight, kneel! On your knees!"

The boys knelt, gazing up at this man with awe and expectation.

Balian looked down upon them, feeling a sense of nostalgia wash over him. "Be without fear in the face of your enemies," he began. "Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the truth always, even if it leads to your death. Safeguard the helpless. That is your oath…"

Gamling watched the strange scene unfold before him. The boys seemed to change even as the foreigner spoke. Their faces lit up with hope. In one moment, they had become defenders of Rohan, not just mere farm boys.

"Rise a knight!" Balian shouted. "Rise a knight!" The boys got onto their feet. Éothain was rubbing his face where the man had slapped him, but his eyes were shining. Even the grown men, who had not partaken in the ceremony, seemed encouraged by the blacksmith's words. The entire fortress was strangely quiet, and Balian suddenly realised that they had all been listening. This time, he did not mind being at the centre of attention, not if he could help them. They looked at him with new respect, stepping to the side as he passed and dipping their heads in acknowledgement. The men and boys went back to their work, preparing for the forthcoming battle with more fervour than before.

Legolas saw his friend from the highest ramparts of the fortress. The words reverberated in his mind. He knew that Balian had done this once before, but he never realized how amazing it was to see it for himself. With a few words, the blacksmith seemed to have changed the entire atmosphere. The elf felt his despair wane. Yes, there was still hope while men like Aragorn and Balian were here. Aragorn. He would have to find that stubborn ranger who seemed to have gained a knack for disappearing. He needed to tell him that he was right.

"Sir Knight!" called Théoden, wishing he had more men like the foreign blacksmith, or just more men.

The younger man turned. "My lord?" he said.

"I would like you to be in charge of the defenders above the gate."

"As you wish."

"And…before I forget, the mass knighting was spectacular. I thank you for it. You have raised the men's morale."

"It is my duty."

Théoden clapped the young man on the shoulder then left to see the other parts of the fortress. Balian headed for the armoury where his friends were probably hiding. He had work to do and he needed their help.

Guy heard about Balian's second mass knighting. Let the fool think that he was making a difference. This was the perfect chance to get rid of him. In the chaos of the battle, everyone would be occupied. No one was going to notice that a man had fallen off the wall or had been cut down by a sword which did not belong to an orc. He pulled on the chainmail that he had been allotted, wistfully remembering the beautiful surcoat and armour that he had owned when was King. Now he was here, about to fight like a common soldier for a cause that was not his own.

He fingered his sword. At least he still had this. God forbid that he should fight with one of those awkward and ugly lengths of crude metal that the Rohirrim called blades.

"Hey you!" said one of the Riders. Guy bit back an acidic retort. It would only make him more unpopular and they despised him enough.

"Yes?" he said coolly.

"Do you know how to use a bow?"

"Do I look like an imbecile?"

"Good." The man thrust a bow and a quiver of arrows into his arms. It seemed that the former king of Jerusalem was going to be posted along the wall with the other peasant archers. He fumed with anger. The blacksmith was probably in charge of a contingent of soldiers. What did they see in him anyway? This reinforced Guy's opinion that Balian had to be eliminated, no matter what the cost.

Gimli grunted in frustration as he struggled to pull the armour on. It was too tight, but he needed armour. He cursed in dwarvish, raising some eyebrows. The dwarf was panting as he struggled with the garment. Was it really worth all this trouble? Probably not. It would probably strangle him anyway. Maybe it would be best not to put it on. Besides, how could a dwarf fight in such constricting armour? He tried to pull it off himself but his arms were pinned to his sides. He could hardly breathe, much less move. He realised with dismay that he was stuck.

"Err, Gimli?" said a familiar voice. The dwarf groaned. Why did one of his friends have to see him like this? It wasn't Aragorn. The voice was too young. He hoped to Aulë that it was not the pointy-eared-elvish-princeling. He would never hear the end of it.

"Do you need some help?" No, that definitely was not Legolas. Legolas would probably be laughing his pretty head off by now.

"Can you get this stupid shirt off me, lad?" he said. There was no answer. He felt tugging and it almost lifted him off the ground.

"You have it mostly on anyway," panted Balian. "Maybe it would be easier to put it on and see what can be done about the length." The blacksmith tugged the other way and after much puffing and pulling, Gimli managed to fit his arms through the sleeves.

Balian quickly turned a snort of laughter into a not-so-discreet cough. The dwarf looked comical. The mail shirt looked like a sort of dress on him. It brushed the ground and the sleeves were too long as well. Gimli looked decidedly red, probably from all the effort he put into trying to pull the shirt on. It was strained across the dwarf's broad chest. The blacksmith wondered how his friend could still breathe.

"Right, lad," grumbled Gimli. He didn't seem to find the situation so amusing. "What are we going to do about this length problem?"

"Maybe you could tuck it up? Or you could find something to trim off the bottom. Bolt clippers maybe?" Now that the dwarf was mostly out of trouble, Balian really needed to find Aragorn and Legolas to discuss the defences. He had no idea how to defend a fortress without the right weapons. It was all very well to throw rocks down upon the enemy but that would mean the enemy had to be very close. He preferred to fight them while they were still some distance from the fortress.

"Oi, lad! Come back!" shouted Gimli. "You're the blacksmith! You fix it for me!"

Balian was about to go into one of the side rooms then stopped. Both Legolas and Aragorn were inside, speaking softly in elvish. Any earlier animosity had evaporated and the two were clasping each others' shoulders. He did not want to disturb them. Gimli had no such qualms. He waddled in, lifting the hem of the chainmail. "If I had time I'd get this adjusted," he said, looking pointedly at the doorway where Balian was standing, then let the hem drop. It fell to the stone floor with a metallic clank.

The elf and the ranger looked at the dwarf with amusement. Gimli opted to complain about the width rather than the length. Any complaint about the length would probably trigger a bout of teasing from his elven friend. "It's a little tight across the chest," he said. Legolas and Aragorn raised their eyebrows. The length seemed more of a problem, as far as they were concerned. Legolas opened his mouth to say something but he stopped, cocking his head. The dwarf's overlong mail shirt was forgotten. Balian listened. A horn. Were the orcs here already?

"That is no orc horn!" said the elf, and he rushed outside. Aragorn and Balian followed him, leaving Gimli alone to solve the problem of the chainmail.

The sight which greeted the three friends lightened their hearts immensely. An army of elves from Lothlorien had arrived, led by Haldir. He was talking to Théoden who seemed to shocked to say anything. Balian figured that these men had probably never seen an elf until Legolas came to Rohan and now, there were hundreds of these immortals. They were certainly an amazing sight. The soldiers were very orderly and seemed to move as one.

"Mae Govannen, mellon-nin," said Aragorn. Well met, my friend. He rushed up to Haldir and embraced him like a long lost brother. Haldir seemed reluctant to return the embrace but finally relented and allowed his arms to close around Aragorn. The ranger released the elven captain. "You are most welcome," he said.

Legolas ran forwards to greet the elf as well, clasping his shoulder warmly as elven warriors did when they greeted each other. Then it was Balian's turn. It felt awkward, greeting someone he hardly knew in front of so many people. "I'm glad you've come," he said at last. "It's very generous of you."

"We are proud to fight alongside men once more," said Haldir.

'Does that mean it's happened before?' wondered Balian. He had no time to ask as the soldiers took their positions.

Thunder clashed again, and the rain pelted down, soaking them in mere moments. Water dripped down from the end of Balian's nose. His hair was plastered to his head. In the distance they could see the light from the torches of the marching orcs. The boys were silent; watching the approaching army that may be Rohan's approaching doom. None of them showed their fear and Balian felt proud of them. Then he grieved. Many of these boys might not survive this. They had no experience in war.

Nearby, Aragorn was instructing the elven troops. Legolas and Gimli were with them. Balian wondered how Gimli felt about being placed with the elves. They were all good archers which eased Balian's anxiousness a little. At least now they had more long range weapons. He missed his ballistae and catapults. Not to mention the oil which burnt fiercely when lit. The Rohirrim didn't have any of those things.

The orcs halted in front of the fortress. Balian could make out their long pikes in the dim light. And what was that? He peered carefully into their midst. Oh God help him! The Uruk Hai had ballistae!

Éowyn heard the approaching footsteps of Saruman's horde. The ground trembled as if it loathed the feel of their foul feet upon its surface. The women and children sat silently in the dark, too frightened to talk, or to do anything for that matter. She wondered what would be worse, knowing that the men she cared about were dead or not knowing anything at all. She opted for the latter.

She could imagine Lord Aragorn standing proudly on the battlements, ordering the men to stand firm. She would give anything to stand beside him and be one of the soldiers that he commanded.

'His friends will look after him,' she told herself firmly, but she doubted even her own words. His friends would be occupied with their own adversaries. There would be no one to protect Aragorn.

'Aragorn doesn't need protecting,' she scolded herself. 'He is a good warrior.' Despite her own reassurances, she somehow thought that it would be safer if she was with him.

The two armies stood facing each other, not doing anything. Neither wanted to make the first move. Then an arrow flew down from the battlements, released by an old man with one eye. It hit an Uruk Hai in the eye, felling the creature. The orcs looked at their fallen companion, seemingly in shock. Then they roared in anger and surged forwards like a wave of spears and armour. The battle of Helms Deep had begun.

A/N: Well, the battle at last. I had hoped to go onto the battle itself this chapter but there wasn't enough time to do it justice. We'll just have to wait for the next chapter. There will hopefully be more about Guy and how he copes. Sorry about the late update. Our internet got disconnected because we were trying to change telephone companies. Stupid Telecom New Zealand. We even paid for the internet connection until next month! Alright, enough moaning from me. You probably didn't want to know anyway. Please leave your opinion! I'm open to suggestions by the way. I might not use the idea but I consider every suggestion and bit of advice that comes my way ;)