"My lord!" came a peeved woman's voice from the entrance. Boromir strode into the armory, despite the bandages showing through the open front of his shirt. Èowyn followed after him, holding her skirts up as she struggled to keep up with him. "My lord, you cannot fight."

Èowyn caught his wrist, holding him back. Boromir stopped and turned to face her, suddenly bringing them very close. In a soft voice, he said, "I must."

Fear sparkled in Èowyn's eyes. "But, in this state, if you go into battle...your life will be forfeit."

"Can you not see?" Boromir whispered, his expressioned lined with grief. "My life is already forfeit. Three, I have utterly failed to protect; yet the gods have allowed them to live. What life I have left, I must use to redeem my honor."

I glanced at Aragorn, catching his gaze. "The rascals?" I asked, afraid to hope.

He nodded. "Alive."

I breathed a sigh of relief and joy, but my attention was drawn back to Èowyn and Boromir. He tried to pull away, but but she didn't yield her grip on his arm. "You are not honorless, my lord. Nor are you battlefodder. You are the son of the Steward of Gondor."

Boromir scoffed and sharply tugged free of her grip. Walking away, he muttered, "My title means nothing here."

Èowyn made no move to chase him, just gazed after him for a moment, her eyes full of sadness.

"My lady Èowyn?"

Èowyn turned to to face Kèolyn, who wore a loose-fitting shirt and trousers, and a set of chainmail. Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid, and she carried a helmet. Èowyn's eyebrows shot up, and she said, "Yes?"

"Will you be fighting with us, my lady?" Kèolyn challenged.

Èowyn hesitated, glancing after Boromir, then at us. At Aragorn, to be precise. Her eyes hardened, and lifting her chin, she turned back to Kèolyn. "Yes. I am."

Surprise registered in Kèolyn's eyes, but she masked it a split second later. Holding out her hand, she said, "You are most welcome among our ranks."

Èowyn clasped Kèolyn's hand in a firm handshake. "Tell me, where might I find some trousers?"

Kèolyn flashed her a devilish grin. "Right this way." Turning on her heel, she marched through the crowd of staring Men, with Èowyn hot on her heels.

Aragorn sighed sharply when they were out of sight. "I should have stopped her."

I snorted. "Didn't you see the look she gave you? That was a, say something, I dare you glare."

"Eda is right," Legolas added. "She agreed to spite you. If you'd lifted a finger in protest, she would've been too eager to prove how little influence you have over her."

Legolas supporting my position? That was unexpected. Thank you, I mouthed to him. He smiled and nodded.

Aragorn huffed. "I don't understand. I'm not trying to influence her; I'm trying to help her."

Shaking my head, I said, "Don't you get it? She has a crush on you the size of Emyn Muil."

Legolas smirked, and Aragorn glared at me. "What do you call that?" He motioned to where Èowyn and Boromir had confronted each other.

"That, my dear, is called having two crushes at once," I answered. "And if I had to guess, Èowyn has recognized she has a better chance with Boromir, so she's denying everything until she can put her feelings for you to a bloody death."

Aragorn winced. "That...that doesn't make sense."

I rolled my eyes. "That's only because you're not a girl. I'll bet any girl would know exactly what I'm talking about."

"I'll trust you on that," he grumbled.

* * *

We waited in the armory. Thèoden was stationing the Men on the wall, and Boromir had added himself among their number. Meanwhile Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and myself sat quietly in each others' company, understanding this was probably our last night together.

I was trying not to think about it, but appreciate it at the same time. Sitting hip-to-hip with Legolas, I had my arms around his waist and my head resting on his shoulder. He'd opted to wear leather armor, rather than chainmail. Which worried me.

Gimli gave a soft, melencholy chuckle. "Remember that night, in Moria? When Eda revealed that she was half-Dwarf."

"Half-Elf," Legolas corrected.

Aragorn rolled his eyes.

Gimli just chuckled again. "I thought ye were going to have a seizure, the way yer eyes started twitching."

Aragorn chuckled, chewing on the end of his pipe. "I thought Legolas took it pretty well," he defended. "All things considered."

Legolas draped an arm across my shoulders. "You knew all along, didn't you?" he challenged in a friendly confrontation.

Aragorn nodded. "I did. It was practically Eda's opening statement to me; I believe she was trying to use it as a pickup line." He laughed quietly under his breath.

Legolas chuckled as well, and I gave a relieved sigh. It was good, having someone that tolerated my past. Legolas loved me; there was no doubt in my mind. Why it had taken us this long to get to this point was beyond me—and more than a little depressing. Because now...

A horn rang out in the nighttime quiet.

Legolas and Aragorn met each others' gazes, and Legolas gently disentangled himself from me. "That was no orc horn," he exclaimed, trotting toward the door. Aragorn followed close behind, and I jumped up and ran after them. Gimli followed behind me.

We ran through Helm's Deep, toward the front courtyard. The night was dark, and it was hard for me to see much—but Legolas's hair was like a beacon in the night, so I followed that. We paused when we reached the stairs leading down to the courtyard, where dozens of Galadhrim soldiers marched in rigid formation. Their leader, I would recognize anywhere.

Haldir.

Aragorn charged down the stairs to Haldir, and wrapped the Elf in a hug. "Mae govennan," he exclaimed. Haldir's expression showed shock, and discomfort, but he hesitantly returned Aragorn's embrace. Aragorn pulled back. "You are most welcome."

"Elves?" Thèoden appeared beside us and slowly went down the stairs. "How is this possible?"

Haldir straightened to his full height. "I bring word, from Elrond of Rivendell. An alliance once existed between Elves and Men. Long ago, we fought, and died together. We come to honor that allegiance." His bright eyes turned to me, and startled, I caught his gaze. "Amariel," he said, "I would speak with yo—"

Pony hooves clip-clopped on the stone. "Where is she?" came a gruff voice.

I sucked in a breath. What was he doing here? Of all people, in all places...! I ducked behind Legolas, trying to calm my erratic heartbeat.

"Amariel!" A pause. "Ye said she would be here, Elfears, now where is she!?"

"Calm your temper, Dwarf," came Haldir's chill reply, "or I shall be forced to calm it for you. She is here."

Legolas reached back and put his arm over me protectively. "Eda, who is that?"

I had to face him sometime. So I reluctantly left the shelter behind Legolas and faced the all-too-familiar Dwarf. "Mister Dwalin."

"Amariel," he growled. "I ought to turn ye over my knee. Runnin' away the way ye did, and leavin' me to follow yer infamous reputation!"

I cringed. "How did you find me?" I asked, surprised at the coldness of my own voice.

"Well, I'm too old to be chasin' ye in person, if that's what ye'r askin'. I've been sending out letters, tryin' to find ye. An' I never got a useful one back, until a few days ago. From the Elf-Witch, can ye imagine! Hmph."

Gimli stepped forward, puffing out his chest. "Lady Galadriel is no witch!" he declared. "She is a fine Elven lady and one worthy of our trust!"

"Gimli?" Dwalin scowled, pulling the tattoos on his bald head down close to his brow. "Yer father would be ashamed, laddie. Trustin' Pointy-Ears left and right!"

"My father never met a noble elleth worth her weight in mithril!" Gimli shot back, his hands tightening on his axe.

"Alright, enough you two," I said with a sigh. I was more than a little shocked that Galadriel had ratted me out to Dwalin. Shocked, and hurt. I would have expected that from Lord Elrond, but not from her. "What do you want, Dwalin?"

"Ye've been runnin' around for too long, Amariel. It's time fer ye to come home."

"Over my dead body," Legolas snapped.

"That can be arranged, Elfears!" Dwalin snarled.

"Please!" I yelled. "We're about to be attacked! So if you ladies don't mind, let's survive tonight first, and go from there." Silence fell over the courtyard, and after a moment, Legolas placed his hand on my shoulder comfortingly. I glanced back at him, suddenly feeling bad for calling him a lady. "Sorry," I murmured.

He gave me an understanding smile.

Dwalin muttered something under his breath, probably regarding the stupidity of Elves. Gimli opened his mouth to retort, but Aragorn cut in first. "My lord Dwalin, you are welcome to join us in battle, or wait in the caves with the women and children. However, as Eda said, we are about to be attacked, and we have soldiers to position. May we table this conversation for another time?"

Dwalin straightedned to his full height, which was about as tall as me. "Let it never be said that Dwalin, son of Fundin, could not be patient when the need arose."