10 / 1 / 23 ~ And in which Eleanor is the only sane one in the room.

Disclaimer: "The Lord of the Rings" is the property of J. R. R. Tolkien. I only claim ownership over Eleanor Dace, Rávamë (aka "Tink"), and the subsequent plot of their story.

A/N: What's this? Two back to back chapters in less than a month? Consider this me trying to make up for some lost time…

Or, you know, just riding the inspiration wave while I'm not too busy with work.

Hope you all enjoy the finale of the Battle for Helms Deep, it's been a long time coming. x

Part III : Chapter 20

- Dawn -

"The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time." — Mark Twain

The Uruk-hai's serrated axe fell from its suddenly limp hands, clattering to the stone as it gurgled and swayed. Aragorn made it up onto the wall just in time to tackle Haldir away, barely avoiding being crushed as the monster fell dead like a felled tree.

Something like releasing a long-held breath rushed over me as I watched, my perception of time surging back to its original pace.

They were alive.

Boromir had saved them.

Both Aragorn and Haldir were down, but I could see both their chests heaving which meant they still drew breath. Orophin and Legolas were immediately running to help them both up, while Gimli and Rúmil rushed with weapons bared to clear them all a path back to the steps.

"Eleanor!" Someone bellowed my name.

I looked down to find Boromir staring incredulously up at me.

"Go!" He yelled for a second time.

Then my night-vision winked out for the last time and, once again, all I could see were small islands of chaos lit by dropped torches. I did as instructed this time, snatching up my dropped bow and taking the stairs two at a time. Most of the other soldiers had already fled past me, and several had clearly been forced to abandon their weapons in order to carry the wounded. I had to dodge over dropped swords, knives and axes as I sprinted back up to top.

I'd almost reached the top when I spotted a round wooden shield lying against the stone wall – just like the one Boromir had taken up earlier.

Again, barely stopping to think it through or slow down, I hefted it with both hands, turned it on its side like a cartwheel, and shouted back down into the darkness.

"Boromir! A shield for you! Catch!"

And with that, I sent the shield rolling down the steps, before turning to run again, mentally crossing my fingers that he'd heard me in time.

If not, well, hopefully it would knock some Uruk-hai down on its way past him.

The dizziness had truly set in by the time I reached the top of the stairs. Staggering up the last few steps I realised with a jolt of shock that – while I'd somehow miraculously come out of the entire encounter without a single scratch – my lower face and neck were sticky with blood. The back of my hand came away red when I wiped it across my lips, my nose and ears still leaking.

Tink had clearly not been speaking hyperbole when she'd said using the night vision might hurt me.

Whatever using it had cost us, it clearly wasn't doing my insides favours.

I must have looked even more frightening than expected because a terrified scream came from the archway at the top of the steps the moment a beam of torchlight lit my face. I snapped my now throbbing head up to find three young human men standing there – conscripts from the walls of the keep, I realised – helping pull the last of the retreating soldiers inside. Or at least they had been until they'd seen me; bloody, wild-haired and wild-eyed staggering out of the darkness like a wraith towards them. They must have managed to dislodge enough to the ladders to send a few runners down to help us, which was good. What caught me off guard was that I recognised all three of them.

One was Eothain.

One was my admirer guard from Meduseld.

And one was the same soldier who'd cornered me in the alley.

I barely had the presence of mind to notice the latter's face wounds had scabbed over, and his left wrist was splinted and bandaged, and all three of them were gaping at me like I was a reanimated corpse.

"The last of them are coming!" I meant to yell with authority, but it came out as more of a strangled wheeze. "We need to cover them!"

Hearing my voice – despite my apparently frightening appearance – was enough to get them moving. Eothain helped me stagger through the archway, and I saw up close that only the two guards were properly armed. They each had a sword and a bow slung over their backs. But Eothain had only been assigned a small shortblade, which was honestly only slightly better suited to his size than his fathers longblade had been.

This was going to make giving the others cover fire a lot harder than I'd hoped.

Thankfully though, when I looked back down the staircase, I saw Aragorn and Orophin appear out of the darkness. They each had one of Haldir's arms over their shoulders and were hauling him up the steps while Gimli, Boromir, Legolas and Rúmil covered their backs. So far they were managing to keep the Uruk-hai back, but it wouldn't last. And they were only halfway up.

"We can't shoot them all! There's too many!" The guard who's cornered me yelled over the noise, giving voice to all our thoughts.

I frantically glanced around, my still stinging eyes scanning for something, anything that might help.

Then my gaze landed on the archway itself, and I suddenly flashed back to what Eowyn and I had managed to do to slow them down in the tunnels earlier…

"The supports!" I shouted over the oncoming howls, rushing over to one side of the archway and easily knocking away some of the crumbling mortar to show them. "We can collapse them once they're through!"

Mercifully all three seemed to understand what I was getting at without further explanation. Immediately my admirer guard took up position beside me, bracing his back against the opposite wall, while the other guard and Eothain did the same on the other side.

"On three?" My admirer guard yelled.

We all nodded.

"One…" Eothain started the count for us.

The shouts of my friends were almost on us, followed closely by the howls of the Uruk-hai.

"Two…"

Aragorn, Orophin and Haldir dashed past us, followed a heartbeat later by Gimli, Boromir, Legolas and Rúmil.

"Three!"

All together we braced our backs against the wall and kicked the weakest points of the supports as hard as we possibly could. The wood cracked and buckled under our combined effort, and the old crumbling mortar finished the job.

The archway collapsed with a thunderous crash as we all dove back for cover, completely burying the first two Uruk-hai to make it to the top, and raining crippling rubble down on the ones left below.

I must have tripped and fallen trying to scramble back, because the next thing I knew I was flat on my side on the ground with my arms around my head, a dirt cloud exploding over us all.

For a couple of seconds I couldn't see or breathe through all the dust, but I could hear at few others coughing nearby.

Then a burly arm appeared over me, gripping my forearm and yanked me back to my feet again.

And for the second time that night I came face to face with a stunned looking Aragorn.

He took one look at me, one look at the collapsed arch that had effectively buried our pursuers, then back to me again. I coughed on a mouthful of dust and grit, and when I managed to speak, what came out was:

"I tried to stay down in the caves, I swear."

A pained smile crossed his face, and he made a sound that was suspiciously close to an incredulous laugh.

"I believe you," he said, and he sounded like he meant it. "Come, we must regroup with the king."

Reality came back quickly though as I looked around and saw the others were finding their footing again.

Boromir and Orophin were pulling Haldir upright between them from where he staggered to the ground. He was frighteningly pallid, and this close, I got a good view of exactly how bad the jagged wound in his leg was. One look at the amount of blood and the Marchwarden's barely conscious face, and my stomach crawled into my throat like I'd just gone over a roller coaster.

"He needs that wound treated and bound, right now," I said, my healer brain already working.

"Everyone make for the upper courtyard! We can regroup from there!" Aragorn shouted, taking the lead from the front of our little crowd of survivors.

We all followed him as fast as we were all able to, those still able to fight – like Legolas, Gimli and Rúmil – running ahead to clear the way. Eothain and I stayed near the back where the wounded were being hauled and carried by those still strong enough to carry them.

We ended up half-running, half-staggering just behind Boromir (who I noticed was wearing the shield I'd sent down the stairs on his left arm), Orophin, and the half-conscious Haldir. The latter was leaving a trail of blood behind him that was making my fear for him double with every step.

Only moments later we found the king on the way back up to the main hall. Aragorn almost literally ran straight into him as he, Gamling and a group of other veteran guardsmen charged round a corner with swords drawn. They were all bloodspattered and soaked with rain, but otherwise mercifully not too banged up.

All the soldiers instinctively raised their weapons in alarm, but quickly lowered them at the sight of human and elven faces.

"They are breaching the main gates," Theoden told us without any preamble. "We must barricade them quickly if they are to hold."

And my stomach fell over the edge of another rollercoaster as I suddenly remembered why the hell I was even here. In all the chao I'd almost completely forgotten what I'd come up from the caverns for in the first place.

"Wait! The caves! Eowyn! There were Uruk-hai trying to get inside!" I cried in a garbled, high pitched mess from the back of the group. Everyone but Boromir turned to me in bewilderment as I shoved my way to the front, trying to catch my breath enough to make sense. "We collapsed one of the abandoned tunnels under the keep. The Uruk were using it to try and dig their way in. Eowyn was holding it until I could run and get help, but the sentinels were gone."

A look of genuine panic filled Theoden's eyes for a half second, then he managed to mask it, turning immediately to one of the senior guards.

"Get a group of reinforcements down there, immediately," he ordered, and the guard instantly rushed away to carry out the order. Theoden glanced back to give me a short nod of thanks, before turning to Aragorn again. "Many are wounded from the fighting on the outer wall. We must brace the main gates now, or they'll storm the inner keep before we can get the rest of the injured inside."

"They're already broken open a section of the entrance," one of the more battered looking guardsmen explained. "We need assistance pushing them back. There's not enough room to get the gap closed without our men getting picked off."

From behind me, Gimli stepped out of our ranks and clapped Aragorn on the back.

"Sounds like a job we can help with, laddie," he said, and Aragorn glanced at him with an appreciative but foreboding look.

"How long do you need?" He asked the king.

"As long as you can give us," Theoden answered, before turning on the rest of us. "Everyone who can lift a blade or spear, assist with the barricades! Everyone else, help get the wounded inside!"

As everyone started to move, for a brief moment Boromir's determined gaze met mine.

Though no words passed between us, I knew what he was asking of me.

I instantly took his place beside Haldir, pulling the half-conscious elf lord's arm over my shoulders as he, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli ran to help defend the gates. I helped Orophin drag Haldir up the steps and through the entrance I'd escaped through earlier, Rúmil and Eothain following after us. We laid him out on the floor at the back of the main hall, alongside the dozen or so surviving men and elves with severe enough wounds that meant they couldn't stand to fight anymore.

They were all in bad shape; gaping wounds, blood and broken bones everywhere I turned. But one look at the slash on Haldir's leg told me if that wasn't dealt with right now there would be no coming back from it.

I'd never be able to face Merileth again if he survived a one-on-one fight with an Uruk-hai general, only for me to let him bleed out on a banquet hall floor.

"I need a belt! Something I can tie tight! Now!" I shouted into the room, once in Common, then in Sindarin.

Not a single person hesitated or questioned me. Rúmil was already pulling his scabbard belt off before I'd finished speaking. He tossed it to me and I snatched it clean out of the air in a way that would have made me feel very cool if I hadn't been too focused on the amount of blood starting to pool around my knees.

As I used the belt to tourniquet Haldir's leg and slow the bleeding, I dimly remember ordering Eothain to run down to the caverns and bring up as much linen for bandages as he could find – the poor kid must have been marathon ready with all the running he'd been doing that night. Then I rolled out the medical satchel I'd thankfully remembered to attach to my belt, and started the grim process of staunching, cleaning and sewing the worst of the wound closed.

The sounds of battle chaos outside dimmed to white noise as I worked, my mind finally able to focus on something I knew I could do…

While my friends fought for all our lives outside.

I lost time completely as I worked.

It could have been minutes or hours I was knelt on that blood-covered stone floor working on patient, after patient, after patient. But whatever amount of time it was, I'd triaged, treated and stabilised the worst of the wounded – Haldir included – by the time the soldiers from the gate started to flood back inside.

I was just tying off the sutures on a slash wound in one of the elf warrior's sides when the doors burst open and everyone I knew who'd gone to help at the gate came charging in, along with a lot more wounded and shell-shocked soldiers being carried and dragged.

I opened my mouth to ask what was happening, but before I had the chance, every one of the men and elves – Boromir, Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn included – started shoving the doors closed and frantically barricading them with whatever was in reach.

"What's happening?" I asked, getting shakily to my feet again. When no one heard me over the bangs of banquet tables and carved wooden statues being shoved in front of the doors I raised my voice to a shout. "What's going on?!"

Aragorn stopped just long enough to answer me.

"We barricaded the gate, but they brought battering rams," he said grimly.

"Battering rams loaded with burning tar," Gimli added as he went by, in a tone that made it seem like he was barely resisting tacking 'the cheating wankers' on the end.

"Theoden ordered a retreat before they swarmed us."

I felt my eyes go wide as I realised exactly what that meant.

"Then they're–"

"They are already inside the walls," Theoden confirmed, addressing the room at large more than me, and I looked to find he had taken on a ghostly, haunted expression. "We… are trapped."

You could feel the uneasy silence at those words fall like a thick, heavy fog over the room. But no one except the king stopped what they were doing. They just continued to frantically bar the same doors I'd forced my way out of earlier in search of the sentinels. Earlier that night it had taken all of my strength just to lift the barricade out of its housing on my own.

Now, knowing what it was going to have to keep out, it looked like little more than a toothpick.

All the while, Aragorn was trying to speak to the king who had dissolved onto a bench in obvious despair. He spoke to him in hushed but urgent tones, but when Theoden answered he did absolutely nothing to keep his voice down.

"The keep is taken, Aragorn," he snapped, gesturing carelessly to the doors. "It is already over. There is no hope left that can save us now."

I watched as something in Aragorns' normally calm and collected expression violently snapped, and his iron grey eyes blazed with sudden fury.

"You insisted this keep would never fall while it was defended by Rohan's men!" he bellowed, seizing the king of Rohan by his collar and actually shaking him. "They are still defending it! They and your allies have given their lives defending it! Would you make all those deaths count for nothing?"

Theoden didn't react.

And that was a far more frightening reaction than if he'd started shouting back.

Aragorn just stared at him, incredulous, looking for a moment like he was going to lay into him even more. But then Boromir's hand appeared suddenly on his shoulder, and Aragorn turned to find our companion looking at him with a pained but understanding expression.

Aragorn took a breath, then carefully released Theoden, his calm facade falling back into place.

"Is there no other way for the women and children to flee?" Boromir asked the king in a low tone. When he didn't get an answer, Boromir turned and shouted the question into the room instead. "Is there no other way for the women and children to escape?!"

Gamling paused to eye his catatonic sire for a moment, before finally speaking up in answer.

"There is another passage," he admitted. "Deeper into the caves and further down. It leads out into the mountains–"

"They won't get far enough for it to matter!" One of the other veteran guards cut in. "The passage is too narrow! Once they break in, they won't make it far before the Uruk-hai catch up!"

"But it's the only chance they have!" A younger guard piped up. His words set off a dozen other voices too.

"If they don't go now then they won't stand a chance!"

"My daughters and nieces are all down there!"

"My wife and grandson as well!"

"We have to try!"

"Send a runner down to show them the way to the passage," Aragorn pressed. "Once they're through, have them block it off as best they can to slow any that might make it past."

"Past what?" One of the older guardsmen loudly demanded of him. "We won't be able to hold them all off from here, it'll be too exposed once those doors come down!"

There was a rumble, and the muffled but familiar sound of Uruk-hai roaring from outside the doors. The men immediately redoubled their efforts and their speed, dragging entire pieces of furniture that looked like they hadn't been moved in centuries in front of the doors.

Then, through all the chaos, Aragorn said to the king in a voice so quiet I almost missed it:

"Ride out with me."

There was an almost hilariously long beat where every elf in the room went abruptly silent and wide-eyed in horror.

Every human just looked confused at the sudden lack of noise and movement, save only for the bangs and crashes of the siege outside.

I was the one who broke it, absolutely sure I must have heard him wrong.

"I'm sorry, what?!"

"Ride out with me," Aragorn repeated, though he never looked away from Theoden. "Into the midst of them."

Few times in my knowing him had Aragorn rendered me genuinely speechless.

But this was one of them.

I was unable to believe what I was hearing, but then Boromir added to the madness by speaking up too.

"We still have the horses stabled below. A group of us can charge out when the barricades break," he spoke softly, putting the pieces of Aragorn's crazy plan together aloud for us all.

And I was horrified to hear he didn't sound disapproving of the idea.

Aragorn nodded at him.

"It will draw the primary attack away from the keep long enough for the women and children to retreat," he went on. "Once we're outside, the rest can hold this position–."

I interrupted, throwing up my blood-stained hands.

"Guys, that's not called a 'charge!' That's called 'a suicide run!'"

Aragorn sent me an opaque look.

"It is the best option we have. Unless you have a better one in mind?

I just gaped at him.

"Jesus, you're actually insane."

"Bold words coming from you."

"No, it's catastrophically nuts, even by my standards!" I ranted, gesturing wildly to the doors as another bang shook the walls. "Aragorn, there's still half a bloody army out there! The chances of any of you coming back from that…"

My throat closed over the words before I could finish.

It was only when my voice failed me that I realised the entire hall – men and elves – had all gone completely still and quiet, listening to us argue.

"I'll do it," one of them said finally, breaking that silence.

And I looked with shock to find it was the guard who'd cornered me in Edoras. He didn't meet my eye, but he had a humbled, determined expression on his face as he spoke to Aragorn. "I know the entrance to that passage. A few of us can run down and show the women and children the way, then make it back up here with more arrows and blades to hold the position."

Aragorn paused, studying him closely, before giving a short nod of acceptance.

But then turned to the one in that room who truly had the final say.

The entire hall of battered and bloody men and elves – me included – turned to look at Theoden. He was still saw stooped on the bench he'd collapsed onto, but his expression had shifted. Something in Aragorns's words had transformed the despair in his eyes to something like a spark of hope.

Vicious, defiant hope.

Gamling stepped forward from the crowd, peering questioningly at his lord.

"My king?"

Theoden looked up to him, then to Aragorn.

"For Rohan…" he whispered.

Aragorn's mouth twitched up in a fierce smile.

"For your people."

Then, with one last look towards the entrance to the caves, then to his remaining men, Theoden stood, his shoulders squared, and his mantle of command returned.

"Gamling, have your men bring up the horses. All of them," he ordered, then addressed the room in a thunderous tone. "Everyone able to ride, take up your blades and spears. Everyone else, take up your bows and set up cover at the back of the hall around the wounded. We'll make them work for it."

Hopeless as the whole situation was, and suicidal as the prospect was, something about the king's tone seemed to galvanise his men's fear into a kind of rebellious defiance. They gave a collective war cry of agreement, before abandoning the barricades completely and setting about preparing for a fight – taking up their swords, spears and bows once again. A few moved to pass me to the back of the room where I'd left my surviving patients, making to set up cover that would shield them when the doors finally fell.

I couldn't do anything for a few long seconds.

I just stood there unable to believe what I was seeing happening, praying that somehow I'd wake to find myself curled by the fire on the road with my friends. But this wasn't some terrible nightmare I'd wake up from in a cold sweat and laugh about with them and the hobbits over second-breakfast later.

This was actually happening.

This might well be it…

I'm not sure I'd have broken out of my catatonic state on my own if I hadn't heard someone croak my name. I turned to find Haldir barely awake and looking up at me through bleary pain-hazed eyes, just as a thunderous boom came from outside the doors, shaking dust and loose bits of mortar from the ceiling. I did my best to ignore it, dropping to my knees beside him. His leg was stitched and bandaged, but he was still riddled with injuries, and I hadn't had any pre-prepared pain draughts strong enough to give him.

"Eleanor, what is…"

He tried to sit up, and I had to brace both my hands on his shoulders to stop him.

"Don't! Lie still, don't try and move. You have broken ribs and your leg is still bad. If you tear those stitches I won't have time to redo them before..."

Another boom cut me off and saved me the explanation. He coughed again, his breathing laboured with pain.

"Orophin… and Rúmil…?"

"They're both fine. They helped bring you inside," I assured him, pushing him back down.

He turned his head to see the barricaded doors and the men and elves gearing up for the charge.

"The Uruk-hai… they're coming?"

I hesitated, then nodded, unable to look at him for fear I'd start crying in terror.

"Yes."

He coughed, groaned in pain, then reached out and took hold of my forearm in an extremely firm grip for someone two steps away from unconsciousness.

"Eleanor… Merileth…" he struggled to get out. "Please, tell her—"

I shook my head vigorously, taking his wrist and prying his hand off me.

"I'm not telling her anything," I told him sternly. "Because you're going to survive to tell her yourself."

"I will likely not…" He argued, struggling to keep his eyes open now.

"You will," I insisted again. Then I leaned close enough for him to stare directly into my eyes, despite his state. I glared hard at him. "Because you will not abandon her and those kids alone in this world like that. And if you do, I will never forgive you."

He stared into my eyes in what might have been shock, or even a glimmer of approval, before the pain finally took him. His eyes rolled back into unconsciousness, and he slumped back onto the floor. I did what I could to help him down gently, making sure his airway was clear and his pulse was stable.

And as I did, my gaze drifted unwillingly to a group of other forms just a little way away…

The forms of those I hadn't been able to help.

There weren't many compared to those I'd managed to treat and stabilise, but they were there.

Six men…

Three elves…

Their faces covered over with their own cloaks I'd had to use in replacement of white sheets…

One of them had barely been older than a teenager.

Another boom shook the hall, and something inside me went abruptly still and calm at the sight of those nine bodies lying so still and silent. A quiet, livid determination that didn't banish the fear completely, but eclipsed it with something else. The same feeling of vicious denial I'd got when I'd pictured my friends like that.

I knew the feeling now, and I was ready and willing to wield it like a weapon if I had to.

I climbed to my feet again, just as I felt more than heard three of my friends coming up behind me. I knew it was Aragorn who would speak before he even drew breath to speak, and I already knew what he was going to say…

"Eleanor," he started in a hideously gentle, placating tone, "you need to–"

"Nope," I cut him off, not turning to face them as I re-tied my hair. "I'm staying right here."

"Lass–" Gimli started to join in.

"I'm one more archer that can hold this spot," I interrupted again, snatching up my bow and quiver from beside Haldir's unconscious form. "And we need as many as possible if this insane plan of yours is going to work."

"Eleanor…" I heard Legolas start to speak too, something more pleading than argumentative creeping into his tone. I just shook my head, still unable to make myself look at him, but I could feel the sudden fear radiating off him. Later, if we lived, I'd have the time to feel touched. But if I looked at him now, I might well cave under that gaze.

And I wouldn't let that happen.

I wouldn't be made to run while they all stayed behind.

I felt Aragorn step towards me, saw him reaching out to take hold of my shoulder out of my periphery.

"Eleanor, you cannot–"

My adrenaline-soaked temper suddenly flared like a forge furnace, and I turned and smacked his hand away.

"Oh piss off, you hyper-protective, nonsensically heroic git!" I snarled, suddenly absolutely furious that we were even having this conversion at all. "You think you're the only one allowed to put your life at risk to protect someone else? I've made my choice. I'm not going anywhere, and none of you have time or right to argue with me."

I meant it too.

I was terrified beyond anything I'd ever felt before in my life. But I also understood what I could and couldn't live with now.

That image I'd summoned in my mind of my friends lying among the dead while I still lived…

That was something I knew I was not strong enough to survive.

Not without doing everything in my power to prevent it.

Furious tears filled my eyes at the image imprinted on my mind, and I glared through them at my friends, with every drop of rebellious stubbornness I had in me.

"I can't leave you all behind, Aragorn," I said, quiet enough that he, and Legolas were the only ones close enough to hear me. "Please… don't fight me on this."

For a couple of painfully long seconds he just stared at me without moving.

He didn't argue, or chastise, or even glare back at me. He didn't say anything at all.

All he did was close the few steps between us, reached forward, placed a firm hand on my shoulder, and pulled me into a one-armed embrace that was far gentler and warmer than I'd been prepared for.

"You are far too brave for your own good," he whispered, with what sounded dangerously close to affection. I hiccuped a surprised little laugh, the knot in my throat choking me even more as I returned the hug.

"Bold words coming from you."

Another thunderous boom came from outside, this time accompanied by a crack as the wood of the door and barricades began to weaken.

We parted just as the runners returned with just under two dozen horses from the stables. All the men and elves who were able to ride immediately started mounting up.

"The sun is rising, my king," Gamling said, bringing Theoden's horse over himself. "We'll have a clear line of sight once we're outside."

Theoden nodded solemnly, and I was near enough to hear him murmur more to himself than anyone else.

"Then, the Horn of Helm Hammerhand will sound in the deep, one last time, for a red dawn..."

The King of Rohan looked up in the direction of the tower Aragorn and I had seen as we rode in, then he turned to Gimli of all people with a wide, ferocious smile.

"Master dwarf, would you do us the honour of sounding our attack?"

Gimli gave a grim smile through his filthy, blood-spattered beard.

"Oh, these lungs are more than willing," he answered, clapping a fist against his broad chest before turning and heading straight for the stairs leading up to the tower. He slowed only to clap Aragorn and Boromir on the back, and clasp forearms with Legolas as he went past, the gestures tinged with the expression of friends saying a silent, potentially final farewell.

Another boom from outside shook dust from the rafters as Benvolio was brought quickly over to Aragorn. He gave me one last tiny smile and a squeeze of the shoulder, before climbing into the saddle. I turned away, unable to breath for the terrified lump in my throat. All the remaining men and elves too injured to ride were gathering extra arrows into shared standing quivers, and preparing barriers we could shoot from behind at the back of the hall.

I was about to go and help them when I heard familiar swift, light steps behind me…

Followed almost immediately by the scent of rain and pine.

Another boom shook the hall, and this time, I didn't hesitate to turn and face him.

I spun so fast I almost crashed straight into him, dropping my bow with a clatter and reaching up to wrap my arms tight around Legolas' tall frame. He returned the embrace with just as much ferocity, scooping me up in his arms and almost lifting me completely off my feet. We just stood there longer than we really had the luxury to, until eventually, reluctantly, he pulled back, taking my face in his hands and resting his brow tenderly against mine.

When I'd fought down the sob in my throat enough to speak, the words came out soft, and quietly pleading, just like he had minutes before when he'd said my name.

"Please… please make sure you come back. I don't care how…"

"I will, you have my word," he promised, his tone impossibly gentle.

Then he pressed his lips to the skin of my brow.

I clenched my eyes shut as fresh tears ran down my cheeks. One last time we wrapped each other in an embrace so tight my chest ached.

"Stay close to Gimli, he will keep you safe," he murmured against my hair, then finally released me.

The sight of his retreating form turned to a blur as more tears blinded me, too many emotions to name burning through me as I picked up my bow from the floor again and turned away. No one stopped me or side-eyed me as I took my place behind the barricades, they just shifted aside to allow me to stand beside them.

"Tink?" I called softly into my mind as I stood there, watching the last hope for Rohan's survival mounting their horses, and preparing their blades.

Her voice drifted through my head, almost too quiet to hear, but still there.

'I'm here, boss.'

She sounded so weak and exhausted, like it was taking all the strength she had left just to answer me. I knew all she'd done to help me had likely pushed her well past our limits, and there was no way she'd be able to help me now. Even if I had been willing to ask that of her.

"In case… in case this is it, I…" My eyes stung with another round of tears. There wasn't time for me to try and find the words to say all I wanted to, so I said the only thing I could. "Just… thank you…for everything you've done."

She had no form outside my own with which to wrap my shoulders in a hug. But I felt her there anyway, warm arms held tight around me.

'For you, always.'

Then she slipped back into silence, the last of her strength to speak gone. It was somewhat comforting to know she'd likely sleep through whatever was coming next.

Another boom and a louder crack than before reverberated through the hall.

"Riders, make for the causeway! Draw as many as you can away from the hall!" Theoden instructed in a bellowing shout, slapping his helmet down into place. "Archers, knock your arrows! Be ready to loose on my mark! Once we clear the entrance, shoot at will!"

Beside me all the other archers did just that, knocking their arrows against their bowstrings, ready to draw and shoot at a second's notice. At the same time the mounted riders lined up facing the doors, ready for the inevitable…

And I felt Legolas' gaze on me from the other side of the hall. He'd found Arod again, and had taken up a sturdy shortsword instead of his slender knives.

All we had was the span of the few breaths to hold each other's gazes, too far away to touch, or to share any more whispered words of false bravado or comfort. He never looked away from me. Not for a second, even when the other riders cut between us, as if he was trying to commit every detail of what he saw to memory.

I watched him give me the smallest of sad smiles, and lift his hand to settle over his heart.

The tears blinded me for a moment, but refused to shut my eyes or look away.

Instead I lifted my free hand to my own heart, a perfect mirror to his, and returned that smile with one of my own.

The booming toll of the Horn of Helm Hammerhand vibrated through all our bones like a giant's roar.

Then the doors and barricade collapsed inwards with crack of splintering wood, and hell flooded into the keep with us.

Arrows filled the air as the barricades came down, Theoden's voice thundering for us to shoot.

I joined the elves and men giving them cover fire, not caring if my shots were appallingly bad compared to the veterans of Lothlórien. The first wave of invading Uruk-hai – howling and roaring like starving beasts – fell like grass blown down in a storm.

Gimli blasted another roaring toll that reverberated through the stone at our feet.

Then the mounted riders made their charge.

They mowed down the few monsters that hadn't been caught in the first volley, and trampled those that had been behind them on the way past. I knocked my next arrow as the last rider cleared the entryway.

Then it was a free-for-all.

All of us behind cover shot at will, sending swarms of arrows flying at any Uruk-hai that managed to make it a couple of steps past the entrance. But there had been a lot more out there than even I'd feared, and we simply didn't have endless annemunition to work with.

Again, I lost time, so I'm not sure how long it was we held out until I reached down to the quiver at my side…

Only to find I was down to my last arrow.

I froze, staring in disbelief at it.

The elven archer beside me glanced aside to see my face, and gave me a strained look of shared anguish. I saw he was also down to his last three, and with our shots slowing down, more and more Uruk-hai were making their way further into the hall. We both knew that we wouldn't have enough shots to keep them at bay for much longer.

Another dozen came howling through the broken doors, and I had no choice but to use my last arrow, catching one in the throat just before he could make it to us. The other archers dropped another six, but that still left five more, and I could see another wave prowling in on their heels.

Aragorn had been partly right.

There might not have been as many as there would have been without the charge. But there were still enough that – once they reached us – that would be it.

No amount of stubbornness and hope was going to save us from that.

All I could do was mentally brace myself for that end, teeth clenched in a defiant snarl, reaching for my hunting knife as the surviving few Uruk-hai charged straight towards us for one final rush…

Then from the back of our line, a familiar battle cry as loud and ferocious as a bear exploded from behind us.

And Gimli burst through our ranks.

He surged straight past me like a rabid wolverine, shoving a couple of startled elves clear out of his way, and bulldozed straight over our barrier and into the oncoming Uruk-hai with his greataxe already swinging.

I'd seen Gimli fight goblins and orcs before.

I'd seen Gimli fight Uruk-hai scouts.

I'd even seen Gimli fight a cave troll.

I had never seen him cut his way through a wave of heavily armoured monsters with no other purpose than getting from one side to the other as quickly and as violently as possible. He carved through that wall of black armour and blades like a speed boat slicing through rough water, his chosen weapons leaving only dead, mortally wounded or dismembered bodies and gouts of black blood in his wake.

One furious dwarf with an axe rushed at least three dozen fully armed Uruk-hai warriors.

And the dwarf won.

For a few heartbeats I just stared, my mouth hanging open. Because while I have seen a lot of incredible things in my short but colourful time in Arda, I'd never seen anything quite like that…

Then one of Haldir's elves let out a furious battle scream to echo the dwarf's. It sounded closer to song than a war cry, but it didn't matter. It set every single one of the other half-wounded but still capable warriors – human and elven – off with their own howling battle cries.

Then they were all charging too, leaping and clambering over the barrier, and following Gimli through the gap he'd left in his wake; armed with knives, shortswords and whatever else they could get their hands on.

Something in me stirred at the sound of those howls of defiance…

… something ferocious, wild and gleefully feral rising in my chest with the sounds of those war cries of the doomed…

… and even though Tink was exhausted and silent, I knew on some base level that this feeling came from her…

I felt familiar gold flood into my eyes, and I felt myself jump the barrier as well, racing after them with my hunting knife drawn, a twisted sort of anticipation flooding me as I caught up.

I needn't have bothered with the knife. The men and elves in front of me fought with a ferocity that seemed to give even the Uruk-hai a moment of pause…

… a ferocity, I noticed, that seemed to only intensify as I drew close behind them, their shouts, taunts and swings becoming more vicious and bloodthirsty with every step I took…

Then we were outside.

We'd made it out onto the courtyard.

I had a suddenly clear view down into the keep, and out past the gates and into the valley. A clear dawn was blooming over the mountaintops, filling the mountain sides with growing light strong enough to see clearly by.

The riders had made it all the way outside the walls, onto the causeway leading up to the outer gates. I saw Theoden in the watery morning light, still leading his cavalry astride his armoured horse from the front. I also saw Aragorn, Boromir, Orophin, Rúmil and Legolas all still atop their mounts and fighting hard, their blades flashing.

And I also saw the remains of Saurmans army surrounding them.

There were still thousands. Far less than there had been when Aragorn and I had seen them coming, but still too many.

I should have felt terror like I had before…

Terror for them, terror for myself…

But instead I just felt that same wild fury that was spreading through my blood and all those around me…

But then…

Then something caught the corner of my eye out in the valley. My sudden feral urge to fight, to hurt, dwindled as I looked up to see something silhouetted on the mountainside – an outline of something familiar contrasted against the growing morning light.

No, I realised with a jolt.

Someone.

Someone familiar, dressed in white, mounted atop a powerful white horse with no saddle, stood at the top of the slope of the mountain side with the morning light of the east rising behind him.

A sudden, wide smile broke over my face, as a wave of relief and hope burned away every trace of fear and fight left within me.

"Gandalf."

From behind him, a wall of armoured men on horseback appeared over the peak, flanking him from one side of the mountaintop to the other – their helms adored with golden plumes, spears in their hands, and the sigil of Rohan on their green banners.

Eomer, and his Rohirrim.

The Uruk-hai in the valley saw them too, and roared what must have been an order to cover their flank. But it was too late. The banished riders of Rohan all let out a collective battle roar that shook the entire valley with its strength, just as the morning sun broke over the mountain behind them…

And they followed the white wizard in a charge down the mountainside, in an avalanche of horses, blades, spears, and brilliantly bright daylight.

A/N: For the record, writing full-scale battles with multiple important things going on at once is really, really damned hard. I'm so relieved to be able to start writing dialogue again, you have no idea.

Side note: was was bit where Gimli bull-rushed the Uruk-hai purely there as a small nod to John Reese-Davis absolutely demolishing the stuntmen during fight scene filming? Maybe a little. And I'm not sorry.

As always, thanks so much to all of you for supporting and reading this far (and in many cases for following along since you were literally in school!) Next time we'll get to explore the fallout of the battle, what happened with the women and children in the caves, and maybe see some of the repercussions of a certain Marchwarden surviving the fight…

Until then, much love,

Rella x