Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining to LOTR, I only wish I did.

Rating: PG for now, high probability of going to R before the end. I will change the rating when necessary.

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting. This chapter runs a bit fast (at least, I think it does).


Title: From the First

Chapter 2: Helm's Deep

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The way to Helm's Deep took a westerly path below the protective shadows of the mountains of Rohan. Eothain and I traveled with Abelard, a distant cousin of our mother's whom had managed to be located in the confusion of the abandonment of the city. Though I was weary of so much horse travel in the last few days, Cousin Abelard refused to let me walk along side Garulf, stating that I could run and play when we stopped to rest. I asked when that would be, and he replied that he did not know. Disheartened, I sat before Eothain, fidgeting until I fell asleep sitting in the saddle, supported by my brother's form. Cousin Abelard led Garulf with a halter so that Eothain need not worry about controlling the horse during the journey.

"Here, give her to me." I had been awakened slightly by the call that traveled down the huge column of refugees that we were to stop and rest. Rubbing my eyes as Cousin Abelard took me from Eothain's arms, jostling me more awake, I saw campfires being built, small enough to cook over, not intended for warmth through the night.

"Don't wander too far, Freda." Eothain said as he slid nimbly from Garulf's back.

"I won't, brother." I responded.

Abelard handed my brother and I one piece of dried meat each and some bread, then passed his water skin to first Eothain and then myself. Once we had eaten, I felt much better, and having slept for most of the journey thus far, I had much too much energy for my own good. Committing to memory three landmarks that formed a triangle around our small camp, I began to wander among the people of Edoras. Momentarily forgetting the threat that caused the city to empty, my thoughts were of Helm's Deep.

I'd heard rumors that it was a huge fortress carved into the base of the mountains by a giant thousands of years before as a present for the king. Some said that the main wall stood half the height of the mountain itself, and that the king had hidden away all of his treasures in vast caves that lay below the mountain. Still others claimed that there was a single cave, large enough for all of the inhabitants of Middle Earth, and that everyone could live there for many years without ever needing to leave because there was a lake that was fed by a cool, clear stream from the outside. The stream, they said, had cut its way through the mountain, and once filled the great cavern before finding its way back out the other side. I wondered which of these tales was closest to the truth, and suddenly realized that I'd gone much farther that I'd intended to. I glanced around as the sun continued to set behind a distant ridge, my sense of direction turned around by the onset of the evening. I gulped, deciding that it was best to turn back in the opposite way that I had been facing. In the coming darkness, I was unable to make out my landmarks with certainty,

"Are you lost?" I gasped and spun around, startled. It was the elf, the one who traveled with the King's company, atop his large white horse.

I curtsied, remembering my manners. "Please, sir," I began, my voice belaying my frightened state, "I have lost my brother and my cousin."

"Well, then, we must go and find them." Before I knew what happened, he had reached down and lifted me atop the great horse so that I was perched in front of him. He urged the horse forward, his keen eyes swiftly scanning the mass of people. I smiled and waved at the shocked stares that appeared on the faces of those close enough to recognize the child riding with the elf.

"How old are you?" I couldn't contain my curiosity.

The elf smiled; I couldn't see it, but somehow I could feel it. He answered my question with his own, "How old are you?"

"I asked first." I pouted.

"Ah, but I am the elder of us two." He said playfully, "Therefore, you must answer my question first."

I thought about this for a moment, for something didn't seem right with that logic, but I finally gave up. "I am eight years old." I said proudly.

"Exactly as I thought." Said he, "I myself am two thousand, five hundred and eighty-four."

"You can't be!" I objected, "No one lives that long!"

His laughter rippled through the sweet air of the fields, soft and merry. "It's true, little one. And there are others who are much older than I."

"So elves never die, then?" I was astounded. I thought that it was just a story.

"We elves can live for a very long time, indeed." He responded, "But we can also perish, if it is in battle."

"Only in battle?"

I felt the warmth of his smile again, "No, there is another way."

"What way is that?" My voice was a near whisper, awed by the power of this creature.

"A broken heart." His voice was soft now,

"I don't understand." I said, trying to surmise how a heart could break if not in battle.

"One day, you will." He reigned in the horse as Eothain came running to us.

"Freda! Where have you been? I told you not to wander too far." He bowed to the elf. "My apologies again, sir, if she has been a burden to you."

"Not at all." I was being helped down from the white stallion. The elf smiled down at me, "I found her company a pleasant relief from my travels." I grinned.

"Thank you for returning her to us." Eothain said gratefully.

The elf nodded. "Good night, then." He looked to me, "Quel du, Freda." (2)

"Quel du." I repeated, and was rewarded with another smile before he turned and rode back to his companions.

"Cousin Abelard, here she is." Eothain was very upset with me, "Stay close from now on!" He scolded, leading me back to Garulf.

"I didn't mean to go so far." I complained. "I was trying to imagine the fortress, and got lost."

"No more wandering." Eothain laid out a blanket for me to lay on.

"Okay." I promised as I lay down. "Eothain?"

"Yes?" He asked as he placed his blanket near mine.

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright." He replied, "Just don't do it again."

"Alright." I closed my eyes, but wasn't sleepy. "Eothain?"

He sighed heavily, "What?"

"Did you know that Legolas is over two thousand years old?" I didn't dare use the elf's name when he was near, it wouldn't be proper.

"That's nice." He turned over on his side, attempting to sleep.

I was completely oblivious, wanting to share my new knowledge, "And did you know that there are others more than twice his age?"

"No, I didn't. Please go to sleep, now."

"Okay." I turned on my side, my back to him. After a moment, "Eothain?"

He barely held back from yelling. "What?"

My eyes were closing as dreams began to set in, "Quel du."

Eothain shook his head slowly. "Good night."


At first light, we resumed our course, and I was once again atop Garulf, straining so try to see how far ahead the elf was. I sat back as I realized that the front of the column was much too far ahead. I longed to have eyes like the elves; one that could see great distances and tell who a person was before anyone else would normally see that someone was there.

The morning wore on; I began to wonder if we would ever reach the fortress. As my mind began to wander once more, imagining what it would look like, cries began to ring up, flowing like a wave from the front of the caravan back toward us.

"Wargs!"

There was confusion and panic. Some began to say how we shouldn't have left the safety of the city. Ahead, the large group began to turn and make it's way down the hillside.

"Make for the lower ground!"

Abelard abruptly changed course, following the others down the hill. "Hold on!"

I gripped the pummel on the saddle. "I'm afraid."

Eothain's voice quivered, "We'll be alright. We'll make it. The warriors have gone ahead to fend them off." He didn't sound certain.

For another heart pounding hour, we rode, and as we rounded a hill, there it was. Already people were entering the great fortress, and though we still had some way to go, relief filled me. We would make it. The pace quickened as we closed the distance.

Inside, a few of the Rohirrim directed the influx of people, urging us to keep moving and go as far back as we could to make room. Garulf was to be taken to the horse stables, so Eothain and I were brought down from the saddle. I looked around eagerly. The tales were partly true. It was huge, and looked as though it was part of the mountainside. The great wall stretched upward, blocking out much of the light that managed to come into the gorge.

"Farica!" Cousin Abelard shouted.

I turned in the direction that he was looking, and started to run. Eothain quickly caught up with me, and surpassed me as we reached her.

"Mama!"

"Freda! Eothain!" She fell to her knees, gathering us in her arms.

"I was hoping to find you!" Mother bowed her head at the approach of Eowyn. "My Lady."

"It was a brave thing that your children did, riding to warn of the attacks. Thank you for having the courage to send them to us." Eowyn said. "It will not be forgotten."

When the call came for the women and children to enter the caves, we were in the same spot, and I was interested in seeing what other parts of the legends were true. We entered the main cave, and I saw that there were openings at some places that looked like they led to other smaller caves. There was in fact a lake low in the cavern's floor, and it looked suitable for drinking.

"You, boy, how old are you?" A soldier asked Eothain.

"Thirteen, sir." My brother replied.

"Come with me."

"Oh, no, please!" Mother cried out, clutching Eothain close to her. "Please, I just got them back!"

The soldier looked pained, "I'm sorry, but we need everyone who is able."

"I'll watch over him, Farica." Cousin Abelard assured her as he went back to the opening of the cave.

"Eothain!" I shouted, trying to free myself from my mother's solid hold that kept me from following him. "Eothain!"

"Shhh." My mother was crying, tears flowing down her soiled face.

It seemed forever after that until we heard the sound of the approaching army, and after that the thunderous sound of them pounding their weapons into the earth and shrieking. My mother held me tighter, and I could feel her shaking. Battle sounds raged for what seemed like forever, until a huge blast shook the earth. People cried out as dust and stones fell from above, fearing that the roof of the cavern would collapse. Still the battle above raged, yet none below could tell what was happening.

Loud crashes rang out, and someone cried that the uruks were breaking through. People cried and began to panic. Suddenly, above everything else, was a deafening roar of a massive horn. Everyone gathered closer, fearing the worst. An unknown length of time passed before the sounds quieted, until no one was sure if there was still fighting or not. The caves went completely silent, an eerie thing for so many of us that were down there, as we waited for word.

"We've won!" A thundering cry went up from the cave, which echoed for some time afterward, and the droves of villagers began to gather themselves to go out and prepare for the journey home.

When we finally exited the caves, there were piles of uruk carcasses that were burning, and our own dead and injured were being tended to. Families were bent, mourning over their loved ones and preparing the bodies to be taken back to Edoras and buried. My heart was pounding as we searched among them for any sign of Eothain or Cousin Abelard.

"Mama!" I stopped beside a figure, nearly unrecognizable save for the amulet that had once hung around his neck.

"Oh!" Mother sank to her knees, crying. Cousin Abelard, who had promised to look after Eothain and keep him safe, was dead. Fear struck me to the core. We searched for several more minutes, and our hope was beginning to fade.

"Freda!"

With a delighted shriek, I ran to the voice, tackling my poor, weary older brother to the ground. "Eothain! You're alright!"