Now will it Stop?
Her ears were ringing, and she blinked, the blurry outline of the world around her swimming in front of her eyes. She wobbled as she rose from the ground, the carnage around her reeling with her vision. A strong pair of arms wrapped around her and she jumped.
Aragorn's fuzzy face was in front of hers, blue eyes wide and concerned as he inspected her. Not like Legolas' she thought dreamily. Gently, the ranger shook her, his lips moving but no sound coming out. The buzz was too loud for Rosalie to hear.
Then all of a sudden, the buzz stopped and she could hear the ranger was shouting her name. Her vision cleared, and the scene around her was carnage. Dust billowed in great clouds and she could see a gap in the side of the wall, sharp, jagged rocks cropping out of it at odd angles, looking more like ruins than a stronghold. Murky water welled and splashed violently Orcs swarming through it and into Helms Deep.
Gimli was the only thing in front of them, water lapping at his waist, growling and swinging at the Orcs that dared cross him. A volley of arrows flew overhead, striking their target, Uruk-Hai collapsing into the water. The Orcs behind the wall halted, scrutinising the forces ahead of them. An ugly battle cry rose from behind Rosalie and she flinched, twisting in Aragorn's arms to see an army of elves charging forward.
Aragorn let her go, after another quick concerned inspection, drawing his sword and running alongside the elves, but Rosalie stayed where she was for a few seconds. Then it dawned on her and she sprinted after them. The two opposing forces collided with a clash, elves and Orcs screaming alike. Rosalie drew her sword, steeling her trembling hands. I have to do this, she chanted in her head, and drew a deep breath as the first of many Uruk-Hai raised a sword against her.
Legolas skidded down a set of stairs that had somehow remained during the explosion on a rickety shield, firing shot after shot as he went. He shoved an arrow through the neck of an Orc, kicking another before spinning and shooting at one who had tried to sneak up on him.
Rosalie mirrored one of his movements, kicking the Uruk-Hai in front of her before slashing at him, the monster falling and not getting back up. Briefly, her eyes met the Elf's, an unknown emotion flickering in his stormy blue. But reality woke them both, the two spinning away for different reasons, the war raging around them requiring their undivided attention.
It felt endless, like time had slowed down, but sped up all at the same time. Rosalie could see no end in sight, only more enemies she had to kill. Part of her felt strange at how much this place had changed her, how she now saw enemies instead of strangers, and how murder was justifiable, how she had accepted it so readily scared her a little. She caught a blurry outline of herself in a rusted shield, making out colours rather than features, but her changes were too obvious. Her hair had grown long and almost wild, pinned back and drenched in the rain, straggling like black streaks across her face. She'd gotten thinner, the last of the baby fat being stripped from her bones, replaced by hard muscle. A few new scars littered her hands, some raised and an angry-pink, others white and hidden to her eyes. In front of her wasn't the same shy student who had wandered into an unknown world- this wasn't even a girl. It was a woman, strong and powerful, who could protect herself from the world.
Someone pushed her down roughly, hands pushing into mud as she fell, an arrow whizzing through the air that her head had previously been. A thinner, wooden one was shot back and an Orc crumpled with a cry. Cold blue eyes looked down at her, before a hand thrust out to help her off. "It would not be good to lose you at a time like this," Haldir explained cryptically before disappearing into the elves around them.
Rosalie slashed and hacked until her arms felt dead, exhaustion waving a white flag over her head for all of the Orcs to see. When one died, another stepped forward, fresh and ready and her moves began to become sloppier and weak.
Legolas had run out of arrows, swiftly pulling out his knives to slash and hack at Orcs with the same gracefulness he did everything with. Even the ranger was having a hard time keeping up with his Elven comrades, staggering a little after swinging his sword into an Uruk-Hai with a little too much force. Gimli had stopped his maniacal laughter but his blows seemed more sporadic than they had been.
"Aragorn!" Théoden's voice boomed from above. Green eyes shot up to the remainder of the Wall and Keep. They weren't faring much better than the ones on the ground. Many of the younger boys had been placed along the gatehouse, had taken to throwing stones and loose rocks at the Orcs. It did nothing but anger the ones below, resulting in more arrows being fired up at them.
"Pull back to the Keep!" As the order boomed across the battlefield, Rosalie's emotions soared and plummeted. The idea of the Keep appealed to her every, drained side, but her adrenaline and brain realised what that meant. We're retreating. It's not going well. They're boxing us in.
The ranger relayed these orders into Elvish and the soldiers began to surge towards the thick, gated protection of the Keep. Orcs rushed after them, bloody grins on their faces, squalling and whooping with glee. Beside her, the March-warden ran up the stairs of the disintegrating Wall with the speed only an elf had. Where's he going? Did he not hear the call? She wondered, and followed him up, occasionally knocking Orcs off the wall if they got too close. She'd stopped using her 'mind powers' as she affectionately called them, the draining and migraine feeling overwhelming her.
"Haldir! Rosalie!" The elf and the girl both paused when they heard their names. Aragorn shouted something in Elvish that sounded like 'under land' pointing frantically at the Keep. He then shouted something else and Haldir nodded. Rosalie had never seen Aragorn look so panicked, and he beckoned to her with his hand, a pained look across his face.
Legolas and another elf had to haul Gimli to his feet, carrying him away as he kicked and squirmed in their iron hold, as if desperate to continue fighting even if his body begged for rest. The blonde elf near her grabbed her arm, pulling her back by her elbow, periodically letting go so one or both of them could pierce and slice at the Orcs around them.
They became a small pocket, cut off from the herd of soldiers creeping back to the keep, the black masses of Orcs swarming and stilling like a tumbling ocean. They jeered and jabbed at the two, prodding and poking them with their weapons, waiting for them to lash out. Haldir shot off first and Rosalie ducked away from him, before realising their mistake. They had wanted the pair to split and break off.
An Orc rose behind Haldir, the Elf's back was turned. No! Without thinking, Rosalie shrieked loudly, the circle of Orcs closest to her dropping, clutching their heads. Her brain was burning, but she didn't notice it. Her hand shot out, straight at the Orc and he sailed past Haldir harmlessly. The elf turned to stare at her wordlessly, shocked.
"It would not be good to lose you at a time like this." The girl recited breathlessly, a spell of exhaustion rolling over her, and she stumbled a little, legs trembling. Haldir grabbed her, keeping her upright. She was fighting to keep her eyes open; a fire had been lit in her head, the flittering darkness was consuming her. She felt herself leave the ground, being tossed over the Elf's shoulder.
She wanted to yell and force him to put her down, but something had cemented her jaw shut. Rosalie could just about see the blurry outline of Aragorn racing towards them. Why is he so quiet? What's-
There was a dull thumping noise in her head. The ground shook. Okay, maybe it's not just my head. She was inside Helm's Deep, dry but sore, clothes sticking and pressing, caked in mud, blood and grime and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. This feels disgusting, she moaned internally.
Her eyes flickered around her. She was in the 'throne' room. With stone flagons, big pillars holding a high ceiling and a long walk from the door to the end of the hall, it resembled Meduseld. Banquet tables had been pushed to the side, a few barricading the door, which rumbled and squeaked every few seconds as something tried to get in.
Legolas sat cross legged near her head, blue eyes impassive as he watched her face. Behind him, Aragorn and Haldir leaned up against a pillar, the elf tenderly holding his arm in a tense position. Gimli was pacing. A few human soldiers stood near the door, helping to brace it, and the King stood at the other end with his adviser Gamling.
"The fortress is taken. It is over," he said bitterly and Rosalie gulped. I think I should've stayed asleep. Aragorn wasn't pleased with Théoden's words, running up to him angrily.
"You said this fortress would never fall so long your men defended it!" The ranger shouted, as he tried to pick up a bench. Legolas rushed over to help him and they carried it over to the doors. For a few minutes, the squeaking and the push and pull the soldiers had been doing with the door stopped. Rosalie sighed, sitting up straighter. But then the thundering doors began to bend inward again. I wish they would give up that easily.
Aragorn whirled back on the King. "Well they still defend it! They have died defending it!" The door thumped and screeched, the rabid monsters snarling and prowling behind it. Hesitantly, Rosalie rose from the floor, stumbling over her feet a little. We can do this; anything's possible when it comes to us. We can't lose- not this battle.
The dwarf and elves watched her with narrowed eyes, analysing every step she took, every move she made. She only stopped when she was a few feet from the doors. Mismatched frames of different woods and a wall of humans reinforced the splintering door. "Move," the girl murmured, knowing she was speaking loud enough to be heard.
Predictably, they ignored her, huddling against the doors, tensed for the next battering that would happen. She could feel someone behind her but she resisted the urge to look. "Do as she says," Aragorn ordered, voice strained.
Glancing at each other, cautiously, the men did as the ranger asked and Rosalie fought the urge to glare at them. Seriously, you listen to him and not me! I know I'm not a leader like him but geez! I'm pretty good with a sword! A voice was rolling their eyes, ignore them and get on with it!
Rosalie took a deep breath, eyes closing. Alright, imagine, you can do this. She pushed out, struggling and straining. Her head hurt and ached, like she had a migraine and then someone had decided to smash her against a wall. The doors. They needed to be strong, unmovable, protected. If they didn't hold, everyone would die. Visions of Orcs swarming through the doors flashed in front of her violently. It would be a bloodbath, piles of humans and elves alike, pale faces streaked with blood, eyes glazed in death, Orcs roaring victoriously.
She jumped as the doors banged louder, as if the Orcs could sense her weaknesses. Focus Rosalie. The girl reached out for the doors with her mind, and an arm rose as well, as if for a physical bridge as well as a mental one. Wood writhed, creaked and groaned in protest, echoing horribly through the long room and outside as well. The Orcs paused, and another image flitted into her head.
A group of Uruk-Hai had lowered their battering ram, gathering curiously around the door. Another one in gleaming black armour, a white hand stark on the breastplate approached, a scowl etched into every corner of his face. He shouted at them in a harsh language, and a few jumped. But his shouting stopped as the doors groaned again, a shiver accompanying it. The Uruk looked... Worried. Yes, that was how it looked. They're scared, part of her realised. Another part relished in it. Good.
"I hope you know what you're doing," Aragorn whispered into her ear and she flinched at the feeling. Like everyone in the room, his eyes were glued to the doors, as they trembled and moaned as if in pain.
I do. The doors creaked again, louder this time, splintering out wards, as of something inside was burrowing out. Vibrant, healthy green vines shot out, wrapping around the benches and crates the men had frantically piled in hopes of protecting the Keep. And they would do that. The vines slunk over cold stone, like poison-green snakes, twisting around wooden legs and planks. They dragged them back, like prisoners, to the central body, smashing and cracking the wood and plating it to the doors.
Something on the other side of the door howled, and the furrow in her brow deepened, a great ruck in her forehead, a few dimples surrounding it. What the men in the hall could see was that the vines went both ways, and was currently trying to chew and munch through the battering ram, and several Orcs to coat the doors with a second skin. An Uruk had been spurred to action, and hacked at a green creeper, only to be devoured and plastered to the ever-thickening doors.
Rosalie gasped, as if she had been underwater and had just broken the surface, releasing her hold on the doors, stumbling backwards. She would've hit the floor if the scruffy ranger hadn't caught her. Sweat dripped down her neck, her muscles trembling and shaking. It was like her skeleton had been removed, everything turning to jelly, leaving her immobile. Aragorn expected no explanation, cradling her gently, but holding her upright in a way that didn't show her momentary weakness.
"You shouldn't have pushed so hard," he spoke softly but urgently.
"Had to." Was all Rosalie could manage to say. She tore herself away from her supporter, straightening a little stiffly, but almost everyone was still staring at the new patchwork doors in awe. Almost everyone.
Legolas' sky blue skies had darkened like storm clouds, his pale blonde hair glowing in the dim light, a halo framing a frowning face. He walked back with her, watching her for the subtlest sign of assistance, close enough to touch her at a seconds notice, but far enough not to crowd her. As if he knew she needed to seem strong, especially around men who naturally saw women as weaker than them.
Rosalie sank back against the pillar, not minding the bite of the rough stone against her back, resting her head back, eyes closed, gulping down oxygen. Aragorn still looked worried, but he had engaged the King again. "Is there no other way for the women and children to get out of the caves? Is there no other way?" He questioned desperately.
Théoden was still staring blankly into the distance, his face a portrait of pain, sadness and hopelessness. Gamling shot a glance at the King, before answering Aragorn, "There is one other passage- it leads into the mountains."
Rosalie's green eyes opened, regarding the trio of arguing men. The advisor, Gamling's face was twisted into a grimace. "But they will not get far, the Uruk-Hai are too many," he retorted, and to emphasise, the monsters outside began to bang on the doors, snarling and shouting muffled curses through the protective barrier. Rosalie bit her lip, glancing at the ranger, sending him a look. What she did to the doors was meant to buy time, only slow down the Orcs. She didn't know how long they would last, but it wasn't long.
Aragorn had more confidence in her abilities than she did. "Send word for the women and children to make for the mountain pass and barricade the entrance."
Gamling regarded him calmly and sombrely, a calculating gleam in his eyes - eyes that could spot a leader when they saw one and would bend to them if the time came. And he could see something in Aragorn. Jerkily, he nodded his head before glancing at his King for a reaction. Receiving none, the advisor marched over to an idle young man who was still openly gawking at Rosalie after her earlier display. With a few words, he flushed an ugly crimson and scurried out of the room.
Théoden still wasn't there in spirit. He had vacated his body, panic, confusion and desolation forcing him to flee. It was painful for Rosalie to see such brokenness in a strong man like him. The King was convinced it was the end for his people, not seeing the determination, and possibility around him. He looked lost and alone, surrounded by people who he believed could not change the destiny he saw. But those people were blind to his vision, and they would fight to change it.