Legolas's POV

I came out into the courtyard, where Men of all ages were walking, presumably to the armory. Almost all of them were either very aged, or not yet old enough to be considered men. And they all looked terrified.

The group was too thick for me to try and cross through, so I stood in the doorway and waited for them to pass. Suddenly a woman yelled at the back of the group.

"Èolir! Èolir, stop!"

Kèolyn wove through the crowd, moving toward the only stationary person in the courtyard. Her brother. His young face was frightened, but resigned. His sister's expression was not resigned. It was terrified.

"Èolir, come back with me," she pleaded, drawing closer. "Mama needs you. I need you."

One of the Men—who I recognized as Thèoden's aide—came to stand beside Èolir. Placing his hand on the boy's shoulder, he said to Kèolyn, "I must have you return to the caves, miss. It isn't safe out here."

"Safe, my ass," she snapped. Murmurs of her uncouth behavior began circulating, but Kèolyn wasn't finished talking. "Èolir, you know you're too young. You can't even plow the field without hurting yourself!"

"Miss!" The aide interrupted harshly. Keeping his hand on Èolir's shoulder, he stepped between them, holding his hand out to stop Kèolyn's approach. "I must ask you, again, to return to the caves."

Kèolyn stopped in front of the aide and shifted her weight to one foot, cocking her hip and crossing her arms. "And I must ask you, sir, to stand down."

When he didn't move, Kèolyn swung.

The aide dodged her fist—barely—but the backswing from her elbow hit him square in the mouth. He staggered to the side, blood trickling from his lip. Momentarily stunned, he stared at her, wide-eyed.

Kèolyn took her brother by the arm. "Come, Èolir."

The aide grabbed Kèolyn's shoulder, and not gently. "Look around you," he hissed, his tone quiet enough that only she—and I—could hear. "These men, they are our only defense. We are about to be overrun with orcs. Our only chance at survival is to fight."

"He is too young!" Kèolyn hissed back.

"Yes!" the aide snapped. "Most of us are! What would you have us do? Be overrun without fighting? The Riders are far from here, and we have no allies. No, my lady, we will fight with whatever we have. And in your attempts to keep him safe, you are endangering all that remains of our people. Including your brother."

The first hint of tears sparkled in Kèolyn's eyes, but she blinked them back. Gathering her skirts, she said in an even tone, "Take me to the armory. I will fight for Rohan, as well."

A shocked silence fell over the group of Men. The aide opened and closed his mouth twice before finally stuttering, "You...you cannot fight...your skirts would surely hinder you."

"Then give me trousers," came Kèolyn's reply with an unamused eye roll.

"It would be shameful!" the aide exclaimed.

Kèolyn just looked at the Man, waiting for survival to win out over propriety. Finally, the aide said, "Come with us, lass. We'll get you fitted up with some armor."

Kèolyn put an arm around her brother, and together, followed by the other Men, they continued to the armory.

"She is brave, is she not?"

I startled and glanced around. "My lady Galadriel. This is...unexpected."

"Indeed. I had hoped not to resort to speaking with you thus. I had hoped your courage would not fail you."

I flinched, embarrassment causing a flush to crawl up my neck.

"Yet, this cowardice does not make you a coward. For even the bravest fear for those whom they love."

I closed my eyes, leaning against the corridor wall. "You want me to stay in Helm's Deep."

"It will be a grievous battle, but without you, and without Amariel, the night will be much darker. Not all hope is lost, Thranduilion."

"But to keep Eda in danger—" I argued, but Galadriel interrupted.

"You greatly underestimate your beloved."

I rubbed my temples, scowling. "Eda is just a girl!"

"Yes. Eda is. But Amariel is a legend. She has a destiny known only by Eru Illùvatar, but He has chosen to reveal what will happen if you take her away."

Sighing, I thought, "What?"

"Destruction. Rohan will fall, and with it, Aragorn, Gimli, and Boromir. Amariel would never forgive you."

I swallowed hard, and looked around the fortress of stone. "But there is hope here?"

"I do not know the futures of all paths you may take—only one. I cannot tell if your staying will prevent the deaths of your friends, or if you and Amariel will both survive this battle. Nor can I promise that you will both live through the coming war, should you disregard my warning."

I reluctantly turned to head back to the room—back to Eda. "Not much of a choice, is there?"

"There is always a choice, Legolas. And there is always hope. Do not give up so quickly on either." And she was gone.

A choice. To put everything on the line, with the possibility of gaining it all back. Our only chance at survival lay in facing the danger head-on. It was counter-intuitive, but a part of me was greatly relieved. Because I knew. I never would've forgiven myself, either.

When I reached Eda's room, I heard quiet sniffles and her broken voice saying, "Can't you at least come with us?"

"No," Aragorn replied gently as I walked in. They were both seated on the bed, and he had his uninjured arm around her shoulders, in a comforting way. At my entrance, they looked up. Tears were trickling down Eda's cheeks.

I walked over to the bed, kneeling in front of her. "Eda," I said, "you're sure you want to stay? To fight with these mortals, and probably die with them?"

Aragorn gave me a what do you think you're doing? glare, but I ignored him.

Eda's eyes went wide, and she put her hands on my shoulders. "You aren't leaving!?"

"No." I leaned forward and kissed her, the salty taste of her tears sending a throb of guilt through me. "We're staying here. As long as that's what you want."

Eda threw her arms around my neck, scooting off the bed and onto her knees in front of me. Burying her face in my shoulder, she sobbed, "Thank you..."

I finally met Aragorn's gaze. His expression was slightly confused, but relieved. Giving me a grateful nod, he stood and patted my shoulder. "I'll give you two some time alone."

Eda's POV

I waited until Aragorn was gone, then I pulled Legolas down to my height and kissed him. He kissed me back, the embrace sad, but heartfelt. I gently pulled back, meeting his beautiful gaze. "How bad is it, really?" I asked. "And please...just tell me the truth. I'm tired of people acting like I can't handle it."

He sighed. "Ten-thousand strong," he answered quietly. "Possibly more."

My stomach did a not-couragious flip-flop. "And, how many do we have here?"

Legolas paused, seeming to calculate in his mind. "Three hundred, give or take a dozen."

Yup, we were dead. Sighing, I placed my head on his chest again, listening to his steady heartbeat. In response, Legolas put his arms around me and rubbed my back.

"You're allowed to change your mind," he murmured. "We can travel through the mountains, bypass the orcs entirely, and go to Mirkwood. I could introduce you to my father, and...we could get married, Eda."

Tears welled up in my eyes, rolling out and sinking into his tunic. "I want to," I whispered. "But I would rather die a hero than live a coward." I took a shaky breath and let it out. "I thought you would feel the same way."

"If it were just me, I would," he said gently. "I would fight this hopeless battle, if only to stand by Aragorn. But having you to love and protect...it changes everything."

But were these changes for the better?

A long pause. Then Legolas added, "I don't suppose there's any point in asking you to stay in the caves?"

"Nope."

"I thought not," Legolas murmured, and kissed my hair. "I love you, Eda. If you doubt all else, do not doubt this."

"I know," I said softly. "And Legolas, I love you too. I know I'm mean sometimes...but it's just because it scares me, how much I love you. How much I need you."

Legolas rubbed my neck. "If we weren't on the brink of war...your words would make my heart glad."

I nodded, my heart breaking at the possibility of one of us having to live without the other. My fingers curled around handfuls of his tunic, never wanting to let him go. Legolas reciprocated the gesture, and we just sat like that for several minutes.

"Legolas," I murmured after awhile.

"Hmm?"

"How long before the orcs get here?"

"A few hours," he said sadly.

I pulled back and took Legolas's hands in mine, standing and pulling him up after me. "Legolas...I don't care what your father thinks. Just...make me your wife. While we have the chance."

Legolas hesitated. Then slowly, he shook his head. "That would not be wise, Eda."

Stinging with rejection, I challenged, "Why not?"

"For one thing," he said in a very calm voice, "I would do nothing to weaken you so soon before a battle—no matter how hopeless it may seem. And for another thing, if one of us actually survives...the memory would be too bittersweet."

I tried to pull my hands out of his. "Better bittersweet than nothing at all."

Legolas tightened his hold. "Eda." When I didn't acknowledge him, he said, "Look at me."

I reluctantly met his gaze, knowing I'd already lost.

"I want to," he said, honesty and vulnerability shining through his eyes. "But we can't. Not now." When I didn't respond, he added, "Come on, let's get you fitted up with some armor."

Embarrassed and upset, I just nodded and let him lead me out of the room. He seemed to know the way out, which was a plus, because the place was a freaking maze and I hadn't paid any attention coming in. But after awhile, we came to the courtyard where the Men had returned without Aragorn.

Legolas led me to a walkway, up a series of stairs, and into a large room. It was full of Men passing out armor and weapons, and off to the side, Aragorn and Gimli were talking and looking through chainmail shirts. "Here, try this one," Aragorn said, handing one to Gimli.

"I just don't understand why Men have to be so skinny across the chest!" Gimli muttered, tugging the chainmail over his head, and putting one arm through the sleeve and getting stuck.

"Too much lembas bread, Gimli?" Legolas asked in a teasing voice.

Gimli shot him a glare and struggled to get out of the armor. "Well some of us actually have some muscle, master Elf."

"I appreciate the use of titles, but it's Legolas to you, my friend," Legolas responded with a grin.

I glanced between them, then looked to Aragorn. "Did I miss something?" I whispered, though Legolas would undoubtedly hear anyway. "Since when were they friends?"

Aragorn shrugged. "I don't know, but I won't complain."

Despite the fact that I was still a little upset about earlier, I smiled. If nothing else, Legolas and Gimli had become friends before the end.

Better to die with friends than to die alone.