Estelwen stroked Emilia's hair. The child was still asleep, but she would not be if Estelwen decided to vocalize her dilemma. Legolas had asked her, no, almost begged her, to stay in the caves. The pleading had not been in his voice, but it was all too apparent in his eyes.

Estelwen firmed her jaw. I cannot do this. She was a fighter. It was in her blood and in her pride. How can Legolas expect me to stay out of this war? She stood up without causing the bed to creak, reached for her swords, and grasped their familiar hilts. How can I say no to these? Breathing out slowly, she placed the swords back down. How can I say no to him? She walked just outside the tent, not willing to leave Emilia alone for too long. The fresh air was not enough to settle her thoughts. She could hear Éowyn announcing Rohan's grave situation, all while trying to keep the people from falling into a terrified frenzy. She cannot do this alone. Sooner or later, she will feel as hopeless as they do.

There was a cry in the tent. Estelwen rushed inside to find Emilia clutching her doll. Her wide eyes were brimmed with tears. "Mamma..."

She remembers. Estelwen picked her up. The child sobbed. This time, it was not because she had lost her mother on a journey, but in life. Estelwen's head leaned back slightly as she looked at the tent ceiling.

"I am sorry," she whispered. She pulled back. Emilia was not crying anymore, but her eyes were wide. Estelwen recognized the shock. She is seeing her mother die...over and over again. She began to call Emilia's name, coaxing her out of the memory, begging the Valar that the child would not collapse from the horror and pain. Slowly, Emilia's eyes resumed focus on Estelwen's face. Estelwen could not smile. She could barely keep from crying. She stood up, holding Emilia close. "It will be alright. I shall not leave you."

With that promise, Estelwen helped Emilia pack toys for her doll to take into the mines. Seeing Legolas heading towards the tent, Estelwen turned to Emilia. "Stay in the tent. I will be right outside if you should need me."

She dropped the flap of the tent entrance after walking out. Legolas' brows were furrowed. He stood a bit to her side, not quite facing her. He avoided her gaze. "I should never have spoken to Aragorn."

Estelwen held her elbows and tilted her head to the side. "Why?"

"Because I have only made matters worse."

She shook her head. "If you were speaking the truth, then let Aragorn deal with his anger in his own way." Dismissing the rather petty matter, she stepped as if to return to the tent. She paused. This is not right. I am his friend! She turned back to him. "Legolas, why are you so upset?"

He did not answer. She walked up to him and listened, waiting.

"Because I cannot say your name without knowing that what I had told Aragorn was wrong."

"What?"

He opened his mouth, closed it, and looked to the side. "Your name has meaning. Galadriel did not give it to you lightly. And names, they do not only affect those who bear them."

"Legolas..." She did not know what to say. His words were not about her skill, but about her very being. She reverted her thoughts back to him.

Legolas pulled the ice arrow from his quiver. Even as he handed it to her, he did not look into her eyes. "Give this to Aragorn. He is more deserving than I am."

She lifted her head. Why is he acting like this? "It was a gift."

Legolas stared at the arrow. Whatever Estelwen may have thought, it was not just a gift made of an earthborn's skill and a wizard's magic. It was a tangible symbol of her trust. She had given such a rare object for him to use instead of herself. A slim hand closed his open hand over the arrow.

"I have no desire to take it back. Do with it what you will." Estelwen turned and walked back into the tent.

Legolas' ears did not miss the greater display of Estelwen's trust: she was telling Emilia that it was time for them to head into the caves.

A horn sounded through the air. Estelwen snatched Emilia and ran out of the tent. That is no orc horn! The pathways were mostly clear of women and children as she ran to the gates. Théoden, Aragorn and Gimli stood greeting a group of elven warriors. Legolas ran and stood amongst the elves, proud that they had come. Estelwen nearly cried out with joy. Never would she forget those who had greeted her when she first entered into Middle Earth. She spotted the Lothlorien marchwarden.

"Haldir!" She walked over to him. Haldir raised his head and gave a slight cat-like smile. An old, familiar face stepped out from behind him.

Estelwen's mouth was agape. "Lord Daurion?"

"Greetings, Evangeline, or now as I have heard, Estelwen." Lord Daurion retained his formal tone as a teacher, but he looked fondly upon her. "It has been many years since I last fought in battle, but I would not miss the opportunity to see your destiny unfold, although you never had the chance to take what was rightfully yours."

Estelwen knew what he was referring to: the Ring. She nodded slightly, not agreeing with him, but also not wanting to argue before a war.

"She has chosen not to fight." Legolas stood beside the two.

Estelwen's eyes widened. Be silent! She tried to tell him with her eyes. He does not need to know!

Lord Daurion glowered down at Legolas. "Due to the fact that you have not heard from your father in months, I would think that it is you who would not be fighting."

Legolas knew this fully well. Elves did not go to war without the notice of their king or ruler. Tauriel had been banished for leaving. If he fought, it was possible he would have to accept a similar fate. "I fight with Rohan. And Estelwen has chosen for the better."

Lord Daurion looked down at Estelwen, who was avoiding his stare. "Legolas, leave us to speak alone." His tone left no room for argument, not even from a prince.

Estelwen placed Emilia near the gate and told her to wait. With the elven guards nearby, she would not get lost. Walking away from the elves, Estelwen led the way outside of Helm's Deep. In the corner of her eye, she spotted the area towards the side of the mountain where she had hidden her pack with the arrow. It should be far enough from where the battle will take place. If Rohan should fail, then the secret would be buried forever. At least it will not be in the wrong hands.

Far enough from the fortress, Estelwen faced Daurion. She breathed out slowly. Not all things can be kept secret. "What Legolas says is true."

A flash of red shot through his face. "Why? What do you choose to persist in this cowardice? I taught you all I knew for a reason!"

"If you trusted me will all you knew," she said slowly, "then how can you not trust the decisions I have made?"

"You were meant for more! If it were not for that eager hobbit, you would have had your chance to destroy the Ring and right this world."

Estelwen suspected what she might unleash, but she could no longer keep the truth from him. "I let Frodo have it."

"Yes, of course you did," he said bitterly. "We spoke of it after the council." Her lingering silence perked his curiosity. A hint of wonder seeped into his voice. "He offered it to you?"

"Yes."

Daurion glared. "Then it is as I have feared. You are not the prophesied one."

"Then explain why I was born with the ability to control an element! When Gandalf spoke to me, he told me that magic was a part of my destiny."

His face hardened. "Have you forgotten so easily? 'Magic shall not be the Dark Lord's fall.' Magic cannot defeat him. Why else would I have trained you to be one of the greatest sword-bearers in Middle Earth?"

All her hopes for defeating Anorath with Gandalf's magic, for conquering evil, were gone. Ground into dust because of a single line of a prophecy. She turned away from Daurion, embarrassed that she had forgotten, and devastated.

Daurion was furious, but as he watched her face, guilt crept into him.

Distraught.

Broken.

He had not intended to make her look that way. "I take my leave."

*****

"Is that everyone?"

One of the knights, dressed in a full suit of armor, scanned the dimly lit cavern for any voices of concern. The women and children all stayed silent, except for the infants and young maidens who were unable to contain their fear. In the eyes of the men, the caves were their loved ones' greatest protection. To those who were swallowed by the black walls, it was a prison of anxiety and unknowing.

The knight nodded in affirmation. Two others came to his side. Together, they rolled a massive stone over the entrance, grunting as they did so. Estelwen swallowed and gently rocked Emilia in her lap. Metal armor clinked and clanged against walls as the knights walked up the steps of a short tunnel. Over that tunnel, Estelwen knew they would roll another stone. The passage to the caves was not only concealed by the two boulders, but cleverly hidden in the shadow of one of the mountain's crevices.

Estelwen had trouble settling down. With every minute that passed, she was second-guessing her decision. She tried pushing it out of her mind and thinking optimistically. At least the cave is spacious, and I will not have to fret over Emilia being alone.

A faint voice called out a name, but Estelwen wasn't paying attention. Emilia jumped out of her lap and ran to a woman. "Mo-en!"

The woman, none other than Morwen, bent down and hugged the child fondly. Morwen's face was dotted with affectionate tears. "Child, we thought you long gone!"

"Morwen..."

Morwen looked up at Estelwen. "So you have decided to come with Rohan."

She nodded. "Do you know anything of the whereabouts of Emilia's mother?"

A pained expression found its way to her face. "Her mother and I were neighbors. She was slain before my own eyes. I could not have brought myself to presume that her child survived." As Morwen walked towards the other side of the cave, Emilia clung to her neck and refused to even look up. It was as if there was no other person in the world but Morwen. Estelwen followed with slight jealously. However, she was relieved that after all Emilia had been through, she finally found someone who had been, more or less, family.

Morwen settled next to her trembling daughter, who looked to be in her twelfth year. A big bang shook Helm's Deep, and a tremor shot through the caves. Morwen's daughter began to cry.

"Hush, Ivy. Be strong for your brother," Morwen said.

Estelwen's heart felt as if it was stabbed. "How...how old is your son?"

"Fourteen." Morwen bit her lip. "He is a young man now, and he is proud to carry his father's sword."

Ivy did not think the same. She hid her face to conceal her escaping tears.

I could have protected her brother, Estelwen thought. Sadness not only seared her heart, but anger as well. Why did Legolas not want me to come? How dare he think that I ought to listen to him! She looked around at where she was. And yet, he did not force me. I chose. But she had to do something. Leaning her sheathed swords on the wall, she went over to sit by Ivy. "Did you like to play with your brother, Ivy?"

"No," she said quietly.

"I bet you might have fought a lot."

With tears, she faced Estelwen. "How did you know?"

Estelwen could not help but think of Aragorn. "It is hard not to sometimes. But the thing your brother remembers most are the good times you had together."

Ivy thought. "We used to sing together. We used to sing about the end of a battle. It was a song that our father taught us before he died."

Then the stomping started, the heavy steps of thousands of orcs waiting to crush their victims. The war was about to begin. Estelwen wiped away Ivy's tears. "How does it go?"

In a thin voice that carried the fond memories of her brother, Ivy began to sing.

Steel and metal clash and burn

But the tide of war will turn.

The courage behind the plow will bear

A greater task than hate that tears.

The girl's voice grew stronger under Estelwen's attentive gaze, and others joined, drawn in by the strength they heard but could not feel. Though Estelwen didn't know the words, the tune was not uncommon, so she hummed.

The sword shall fall once more

To end what evil swore;

Man tells with final breath

For kin he accepts death.

Estelwen stopped humming and she shuddered. She tried to move her voice, but she couldn't. The swords, the steel, the blood – it was not just in the song. It was around them, above them, outside. Estelwen's swords looked heavier than usual, but her hands never ached more to hold them.

The glint of armor dims

While light of dawn begins.

The lands will flourish now

With willing hands and plow.

The end of blood will come

Courageous hearts have won.

The nightmares will be swept

Because of hope we kept.

Steel and metal clash and burn...

An older woman had been watching Estelwen. She had always been observant, but didn't need to be in order to see Estelwen's struggle. During the peak of the song, she decided to act. She walked over to Estelwen and spoke, "If you can do with your swords what you did with your words, then go!"

Nearby, Morwen nodded. "She is worthy."

Estelwen looked into their faces. They approve of me! They want me to go! She strapped the sheath to her back. "If you ladies will forgive me..." She tore the bottom of her dress to reveal thin black leggings underneath.

A woman walked up to her. "Take these." She handed her thick leather pants that seemed to have been made for a youth. "I know it isn't armor, but they will be better use to you than my son."

Estelwen pulled them over her leggings and tied a belt.

Several women flocked together to move the first stone.

"In case the war has reached the entrance of the caves, we cannot help you open the second stone," Morwen said.

Estelwen had no idea how she would move it, but the women were right. "I will find a way."

The stone was closed behind her. The last words of the song rang through her ears as she scurried up the steps.

...The courage behind the plow will bear

A greater task than hate that tears.

She approached the next stone, visually scanning its dimensions. It was just as large as the other one. She remembered now that she couldn't use her elemental energy as a pure force without Gandalf's magic. So she was driven to push and shove as hard as she could. The stone refused to even groan. Crying out in despair, she slammed the rock with her fist. Her furious breaths slowed as she let her head fall against the stone. This was not how it was supposed to be.

The celtic track, "Victorious," is not to Ivy's song, but does belong in the cave scene. I love celtic music, so I couldn't help but add this in! By the way, if you have a favorite celtic song, please, please, please comment below so I can check it out. I'm always on the look for fresh inspiration.

Also, I wrote Ivy's song with my sweet and amazingly talented 10 year-old sister. She has a God-given talent for poetry, and was so easy to work with. We came up with the lyrics in under an hour, and were pretty happy with the results.

Until next chapter, 

Reese