Linger

XI. To Whatever End

Helm's Deep was alive with movement. There was a large exodus of townspeople toward the caves as volunteers ranging from the old to teenagers left their families to be fitted for armor and given weapons. The mass of battle-ready elves had been camped behind the Deeping Wall for two days and now stirred—some being positioned on the Wall with the rest within the gorge behind.

The king and the men of his household were in the Hornburg, along with the surviving Westfold-men. Éomer set most of his men on the ramparts before the Hornburg and over the gate. Like Rowan suggested, he also put men behind the gate to support it when the battering ram arrived. With no more room atop the walls or within the entry, the rest of his éored were among the elves behind the Deeping Wall.

Rowan made sure to be on the Deeping Wall. The other hunters wanted her up on the higher levels to where it may be safer. She was adamant about not being sent to the caves, saying they needed her with them in case something happened, and for her to save a specific life—Éowyn wasn't so lucky in staying.

Because she was fighting, Rowan was also fitted with armor. The chain mail jerkin they found for her size was too heavy, so she only wore leather pauldrons, a hauberk, vambraces, and lightweight greaves. She had her sword and knives for weapons, but found a short bow so she could fire arrows with the elves. Aragorn and Boromir only donned chain mail, and Legolas wore shoulder pauldrons like her. The chain mail jerkin Gimli found was too tight and hit the floor since it had been made for the stature of a man, not a dwarf—so he wore nothing extra.

Nerves had sent her into the Great Hall to scrounge up some water. Drinking it settled her nausea. Most of the volunteered teenagers were doing the same or eating a little bread to have something on their stomach—all looked terrified. The men she passed on her way out didn't look as fearful, but there was worry in their eyes.

Like at Edoras, she pepped herself up that she had been through battles before as she headed down the causeway for the entryway to the Deeping Wall. This battle was just larger with a much-bigger force. No big deal.

Yeah, right.

At the call of her name, Rowan turned to Éomer descending the flight of stone steps leading up to where King Théoden was. He stopped before her, dressed as always in magnificent armor with golden designs covering his entire body and a half-face helm with a white horsetail flowing from the crest. His left arm was no longer bandaged.

He nodded at her armor. "I hope that will not be tested."

"As do I, but it is safer to have it."

"It is, but" —he ran the back of his finger down her cheek— "do not get hurt."

Someone called his name from above, so Éomer turned to ascend the stairs.

She watched him go.

"Neither do you," she whispered.

Remembering she stood in the middle of the causeway with men hurrying in some direction around her, Rowan turned away as well to pass through the narrow opening onto stairs leading down to the Deeping Wall. Two perfect rows of elves shining gold in the fading evening light lined the mile-long wall. Looking to her right as she descended, more elves five-rows-deep stood within the gorge in perfect lines; the anomalies were the groups of Éomer's éored.

The four hunters were grouped where she and Boromir would be stationed. Rowan pulled their attention when she arrived.

She took a deep breath. "Everyone looks ready."

Aragorn nodded.

"Take comfort in knowing those that will be fighting around you have seen battle, Rowan," Legolas said, obviously noticing her unease. "My kin are highly experienced."