ah jeez, guys. I really had to get my life together.
Dawn was creeping in around the Hornburg, just as it was filled with creeping orcs, raising their dark banners emblazoned with the white hand of Saruman. A battalion of orcs were attempting to break down the doors to the keep, which were being desperately held by the men of Rohan.
"The fortress is taken," Theoden moaned, looking around at the women and children huddled at the edge of the room. "It is over."
"You said this fortress would never fall while your men defend it!" Aragorn yelled, heaving a bench into his arms. Legolas caught it and took it to the door. "They still defend it: They have died defending it!" Another attack shook the doors.
A woman cried, "They're breaking in!" Yelps and sobs rose from the children and women, one of them wrapping her arms around Eowyn with a sob. "They're past the door! another woman screamed.
Aragorn grimaced. "Is there no other way for the women and children to get out of the caves?" Theoden did not reply, staring morosely at the floor. Legolas flipped a table, the plates and candles clattering on the stone as he hauled it to the door. "Is there no other way?" Aragorn repeated, more insistently.
"There is one passage," Gamling said hesitantly. "It leads into the mountains. But they will not get far! The uruk-hai are too many!"
The doors cracked, and the men grunted and strained to brace it shut again. "Tell the women and children to make for the mountain pass," Aragorn said, gripping Gamling's shoulder. "And barricade the entrance!"
"So much death," Theoden said helplessly. "What can men do against such reckless hate?"
The door cracked again. Aragorn turned back to the king. "Ride out with me," he said grimly. "Ride out and meet them."
"For death and glory," Theoden agreed.
"For Rohan and for your people," Aragorn added.
Gimli paused on his way to brace the doors, glancing out of the slit in the stone. "The sun is rising." All those who had been present for Gandalf's last words remembered: Look for my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east.
"Yes," Theoden growled. "Yes. The horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound in the Deep, one last time."
"Yes!" Gimli roared, and hurried off to the horn's tower.
Theoden placed a hand on Aragorn's shoulder, the light cutting across the king aged face. "Let this be the hour when we draw swords together." Aragorn nodded fiercely.
Gimli arrived at the horn's mouth, and below him, at the doors of the keep, the wood buckled at last.
"Fell deeds, awake," Theoden snarled. "Now for wrath." The braces cracked. "Now for ruin, and a red dawn!" Gimli blew upon the horn and the sound of it shook the very stones beneath the hooves of the horses. The braces fell away, and the orcs swarmed in. "Forth Eorlingas!" Theoden roared.
Legolas drew Variele and raised its glowing blue blade, yelling a Sindarin battle cry, "Metho na lû n'i methorath danchen!" Aragorn grinned at his friend, and Legolas smiled back.
The Eorlingas charged out through wave upon wave of orcs, black blades meeting silver as the horses ran for the weak dawn. Orcs on the causeway screamed as they were cut down, falling from the stones into the abyss below, and Legolas gasped as Arod's hoof slipped on black blood. The valley below them was dark as night, clustered tight with orcs, all screaming for blood.
The fields before them were no better, and Legolas winced as he realized that he was just as likely to end up splattered across the stones as any of the orcs. Pushing this out of his head, he made it out onto the fields and was immediately separated from the rest by a wedge of orcs. Aragorn managed to shout to him, but his cry was mostly lost in the clamor of battle, even to Legolas's ears. The elf raised his sword, trying to signal that he was fine, and Aragorn did the same.
The dawn was near, but the mountains were holding back the Sun's rays from the two armies. The lowest point, a steep pass in the peaks, was gilded by sunlight, and in it (Legolas thought his eyes were fooling him) was a figure, dressed all in white astride a white horse. Gandalf had come. Even as he watched, Legolas saw Eomer and the rest of the Rohirrim appear and heard the triumphant yell of Theoden as he spotted his nephew.
The Sun broke over the mountains as Gandalf and the Rohirrim rode towards the unsuspecting orcs. Legolas laughed in relief, and thereafter the battle was a blur. Before he knew it, Theoden was yelling "VICTORY! WE HAVE VICTORY!" and Aragorn was wading through a pile of orcs towards him, bloody and filthy, limping but beaming. Gimli was trotting down the causeway, and the ground was littered with the dead.
The three of them retreated to behind the destroyed wall. Aragorn sheathed his sword, wincing as various bruises and cuts made themselves known. Legolas jumped down from the fragment of the wall as Gimli came down the stairs, the dwarf grumbling in discomfort with every step. Legolas stood beside Aragorn, placing a hand on the man's shoulder with an unasked question.
"I'm alright," Aragorn answered. "You two?"
"Yes," Legolas replied. "Gimli bumped his head on an orc's axe, but he should be fine. Have you seen Haldir?"
Aragorn's heart sank. "Legolas...he was killed." He winced as Legolas grimaced, pain reflected in his deep blue eyes.
"Lord Aragorn." An elleth's voice came from behind them, and they turned to see the dark-haired elleth who had been by Haldir's side. Her helm was under her arm, a jagged hole torn in one side. "I am Uirwen, lieutenant to-," she winced. "I am the Marchwarden of Lorien, and I thank you for fighting alongside us."
"Thank you, Uirwen," Aragorn said, bowing to the new Marchwarden with a hand across his chest. Legolas did so as well. "I am sorry to not have saved him."
Uirwen's face hardened, but she said "It is no matter. He will be honoured in Valinor, I am sure. You did your best, and Lorien harbours no ill will towards you. I shall take my...remaining host back to the Golden Wood, but Haldir's body shall be interred here with his fellow soldiers, if that is not averse to Rohan's king." Her eyes were dry, but they showed the pain of a widow.
Aragorn nodded solemnly. "It shall be so."
"I thank you, on the behalf of Lothlorien," Uirwen said, bowing her head and turning away. Aragorn watched her go, then left to find Theoden to tell him about the late Marchwarden.
"Final count, forty-two," Legolas said, running a hand along his bow, checking it for cracks and scratches. It was intact, owing mostly to the enchantment of the Galadhrim.
"Forty-two?" Gimli chuckled. "That's very nice, that is. I myself am sitting pretty on forty-three." He patted the head of the orc he was sitting on.
Legolas pulled an arrow from his quiver faster than sight and shot the orc right between Gimli's legs. The dwarf jumped, but Legolas simply slipped his bow around his back and smoothed his hair away from his face. "Forty-three."
"He was already dead!" Gimli blustered.
"He was twitching," Legolas said, a smirk on his lips.
"He was twitching because he's got my axe buried in his central nervous system!" Gimli roared, jerking his axe back and forth in the orc's neck, making it flop back and forth.
Legolas chuckled. Gandalf beckoned to the two of them, and they followed him to the edge of the forest. Mordor was crackling with malice. "Sauron's wrath will be terrible; his retribution swift," Gandalf said darkly. "All our hopes now lie on two little hobbits, somewhere in the wilderness."
wow. here's the translation for the battle cry: Fight to the last man.