Cahal's arms locked around Ailith's neck and she stumbled forward, turning so she fell with her back against the make-shift bed she had made up for him and his little body on top of her.
"Let go, I have to go," she said to him.
"No," he whined and buried his soft little head against her.
"He has really become attached to you in the past few hours. It is quite extraordinary," Éowyn mused. Ailith tried in vain to detach his arms from around her neck but he refused.
"Duly noted. Next time I see a sweet-faced orphan I am going to ignore them," she said crossly. Cahal's face shot up and his bottom lip jutted out. It started to quiver, his large eyes filling with tears. "Don't you dare," she said, rolling over and laying him back down on the little bed. He relinquished his grip and she tucked him in under the blanket. "Try to get some sleep," she said softly, stroking some hair off his face.
"Night," he said brightly, all smiles and happiness again. As he drifted into sleep, the two women crept away and surveyed the Caves. Everywhere, women were gathered in small groups, those with children trying to get them to settle as Ailith had just done with Cahal and those without attempting to bring some comfort to each other.
The rain outside drummed down upon the roof of the Caves, water trickling through the vents into the pools below. Time seemed to have stopped. Outside, the battle could be yet to start or it could be raging even as they waited.
Ailith crossed to where the injured from the Warg attack lay. She moved between them, speaking gently to those who were awake and merely checking those who were asleep. Just as she bent over the last patient, a terrible noise filled the cavern.
A great crashing filtered down from above. It reverberated around the Caves, magnifying with every cycle. With it came screams and war-chants that burst through the rock as if the army of Uruk-hai were in the Caves themselves.
Children were wrenched from sleep; women from listless trances; panic and fear flooded through Ailith's body. She didn't know what to do, what words of comfort could she possibly offer them?
She moved quickly back through the Caves, desperately attempting to calm them. Cahal bolted out his bed and threw himself at her, his young face twisted with fear. She knelt and hugged him to her tightly as she tried to whisper small comforts into his ear. Then suddenly, as quickly as it had come, the din halted. Only wails and sniffs now echoed in the Caves. Cahal moaned into her shoulder.
"Shush, shush, it's over," she whispered soothingly as she rocked him back and forth. She fearfully exchanged a look with Éowyn.
But it wasn't over. If anything it grew worse; orders being shouted; cries of pain and death; the clash of weapon on weapon; all seeping down into the Glittering Caves.
It went on and on, never pausing even for a second. She had to go, she had to aid those who had been wounded on the field of battle. Yet every time she stood Cahal would sob harder and cling to her even tighter. It nearly broke her heart when she had to force him into Éowyn's arms. He fought against her, his arms stretched towards Ailith instead and tears rubbing his cheeks raw as he howled.
"I'll come back, I promise," she said to him and kissed the top of his head. She drew back before he could catch a hand in her clothes and, with a final look at Éowyn, she ran from the Caves.
Already the Hornburg was filling with the injured. She looked around the room, quickly assessing who was in most need of help. Her physician's mind clicked into place and she moved to the worst of the wounded.
She was running out of bandages. She had used all of her own stock and the Helm's Deep supply were going thick and fast. There was a pile of blankets lying nearby. She paused and then grabbed one, cutting it into strips with her dirk. It wasn't the most hygienic but it would have to do for now.
Suddenly there was a tremendous explosion that seemed to shake the very foundations of the Hornburg. Ailith was sent toppling into the pile of blankets, completely caught off guard. She fought upright.
"Earthquake?" she spluttered.
"Nay, my lady! The Deeping Wall is breached!" a soldier shouted. Fresh panic coursed through her and she ran out of the hall. She leapt up the steps to the command point where Théoden and Gamling were watching the progress of the battle.
"What on earth do you think you are doing! Get back inside!" Théoden thundered when he saw her but she barely heard him. Her eyes were fixed in horror at the Deeping Wall.
The great defence of Helm's Deep had a gaping wound in it; a great breach had been opened and the Uruks poured through it unchecked, five fresh and baying for blood for every one that fell.
She turned and stared at the legions of the enemy filling the ravine. They swelled back and forth, a great ocean of steel waiting to break forth and drown the people of Rohan.
"We really are going to die," slipped from her mouth hopelessly before she could think. The King turned to her sharply but she stared him down. She could see the doubt in his eyes.
"Get down below. And say nothing of what you have seen," he said and turned his attention back to the battle. As she hurried back inside, she heard him cry, "Aragorn! Retreat!"
The wounded now came thick and fast and Ailith had to do that which she dreaded; prioritise the injuries. As soon as one was sent off to rest, another took his place. She looked up and was surprised to find an elf seated in front of her. He was pale and shaking and, from its unnatural angle, his leg was broken.
"Mae govannen," she stammered. His eyes lit up and he began to babble in Sindarin at her. She shook her head quickly. "I don't speak any more," she said. The light in his eyes faded as he asked another question. She felt along his leg and sighed.
"I am going to have to straighten it," she said, gripping it by the ankle. He paled and tried to kick her away with his other leg. She tried to ignore his protests and straightened the leg anyway. Another voice calmed him as he screamed and she looked over her shoulder to see one of the companions of Haldir from all those years ago.
"Forgive him, my lady. He is young and he only speaks our tongue," he said to her. She nodded and dug in her bag for her last precious leaf of athelas.
"Here, add this to boiling water and it shall calm him; and the others," she said and moved onto the next patient. He stared at the herb and then followed her.
"Do you have any idea what this is?" he asked incredulously.
"Its scent calms. I know little else," she said shortly, winding a bandage around a boy's head.
"That is true. It is said that it smells different to each individual," he replied, still staring at the plant.
"Fascinating. Do you require medical aid or not, sir?" she asked irritably. "If not, please leave me be."
"Ailith, Ailith! The King is injured!" the voice of Gamling shouted. She glanced once more at the elf and then followed Gamling out.
"How badly?" she asked, fearing the worst, as they strode into the main hall. She paused when she saw him standing. "He is fine, I have patients of a worse disposition to attend to," she said and turned to leave. Gamling caught her by the arm.
"Please Ailith. He is not right," he said in a low voice. "We have been forced to retreat into the Keep and it has shaken him."
"Is there a safe path for the women and children?" Aragorn was demanding. When Théoden failed to answer, he turned to Gamling and Ailith.
"There is an old path," Gamling admitted.
"To be used in an absolute emergency," Ailith agreed.
"They would not get far. The Uruks are too many in number and too swift to be outrun," Théoden said.
"We can block the entrance and myself and Éowyn shall travel at the rear!" Ailith said. "We can buy some time for the others to reach Gondor!"
"We can buy some more time for them as well. Ride out with me. Meet them head on," Aragorn said, stepping towards Théoden.
"For death and glory?" Théoden asked.
"For Rohan! For your people," the Ranger said forcefully.
"To see Edoras once more," Gamling said hollowly.
"To see the sun rise over the plains; to hear the thunder of hooves over the grass," Ailith added, a small smile on her face. More and more Riders voiced their desires. Their voices seemed to fill the hall, all clamouring to be heard by their King. They fell silent as they heard a lone voice echo up from the Caves.
"Bealocwealm hafað fréone frecan forth onsended..."
"Yes... yes..." the King said slowly. Pale sunlight filled the hall. "Yes! The horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound once more in the Deep and our enemies shall know that if this is our end; we shall take as many of them with us we can! My people shall not end their days cowering in caves singing the funeral laments of old!"
Gimli roared his approval and charged from the hall. The word spread; Snowmane and the other horses were brought up from the stables and soon the eorlingas were mustered in the hall.
"For wrath, for ruin and for a dawn as red as the blood of Man!" Théoden cried, raising his sword in the air. As the vast swell of the Horn of Helm rumbled in the Deep, the doors swung open and the full might of the eorlingas charged forth.
Ailith ran after them, safe for they had cleared the paths of the Hornburg of all enemies in their passage. She climbed once more to the command point and watched with joy as the Riders cut a path through the Uruks.
As the sun crept over the eastern hill, another horn was heard on the wind, a horn that sent relief flooding through her. The horn of Éomer. A second horn joined it, causing her to jump and shout with happiness as the full company of Riders charged down the slopes to aid their King in battle, led by a figure of purest white.
The Riders of Éomer, together with those of the Fortress, broke through the defences of the enemy and charged them down like deer in a hunt. She smiled again and tipped back her head to shout her thanks to Béma.
She turned to leave with the intention of finding Éowyn and telling her that the danger had passed, the battle was won, when her eyes fell on the bodies within the Deeping Wall. Her smile faded and her joy was extinguished.
Her work had only just begun.
This was the most difficult of all the chapters to write so far so I hope it is good. I will admit that I think it is the most likely candidate for a re-write if I ever do decide to go back and re-work them a tad.
Also, this story of mine was added to a community for good, well-rounded OFCs. I want to extend my thanks to the person who did it; I was truly honoured when I saw some of the other stories in the archive.