I've returned! I promise I won't abandon this story, no matter how long it might take me to update. I'm working on my novel right now, so it's been difficult to juggle both.

Anywho, forgive me, and enjoy the new chapter!

The dimly lit cavern is filled with the clatter of weapons and the murmur of voices. Soldiers bustle to and fro, gathering swords and saying their goodbyes to their loved ones. As I stride towards the weapons grinder, it is impossible to overlook the tears glistening in the eyes of men and, worst even, children. A small boy strides past me with an oversized helm obscuring his face. The blade in his hand seems far too heavy for him.

"Nothing comes without a price, it seems," I say in a low voice, grabbing a nearby blade. Stone grates against steel as I run it against the grinder, wrinkling my nose as sparks singe my bare forearms. Unlike many of the other soldiers, I have yet to put on any mail. The thought of doing so is strangely foreign to me. In previous fights, my armor has consisted of naught more than a heavy leather vest and a light undershirt. But then again, I had a giant Breyta at my disposal, not to mention the long reach of my magic. Now I have neither.

The thought of Carca sends a stab of pain shooting through my heart. Be safe, my friend.

The sword shines brilliantly as I remove it from the grinder. I run a fingertip down its length, testing the sharpness. Blood wells up at the point of contact. Satisfied, I place it on the table beside me, only to have it snatched up by Aragorn. The Ranger looks the blade over before setting it down and turning his gaze towards me.

"A fine job," he says. "Were did you learn such a talent?"

"I was an apprentice to a blacksmith during my time in Brunsfarrow," I reply softly. "He taught me everything he knew."

Aragorn nods thoughtfully before gesturing towards the far end of the cavern. "Come, rest yourself; you've done more than enough."

I blink gratefully and follow after him, stretching out my sore joints as he makes his way through the crowd. Moments later, I take sight of Legolas and Gimli standing near the far corner of the cavern. The Prince watches me closely as we approach, eyes glinting in the torchlight.

"Keira," he says smoothly, dipping his head. Gimli follows suit.

I smile at the both of them as I come to stand at the Prince's side. A strange emotion tightens his features, and I make to speak when Aragorn beats me to it.

"Farmers, farriers, stable boys," he growls. "These are no soldiers."

"Must have seen too many winters," grumbles Gimli.

A light sneer curls at Legolas's lips. "Or too few."

I look over my shoulder at the growing throngs of men. Over half of them are younger than I, and with a large portion being still in their teens. Saddened, I shake my head.

"Look at them." Legolas snaps. "They're frightened. I can see it in their eyes."

"Legolas…" I soothe, but I am too late. His heavy words have been heard by many, including Aragorn. I lock eyes with the Elf, trying desperately to calm him. My silent plea goes unnoticed.

"Boe a hyd," he says fiercely. "Neled herain dan caer menig!"

"Si beriathar hyn ammaeg na ned Edoras," Aragorn replies.

"Aragorn, nedin dagor erir ortheri. Nartha daged dhaer!"

"Then I shall die as one of them!" Man and Elf glare daggers at each other while the soldiers and townspeople look on in fright. Then, with a disgruntled sigh, Aragorn turns and stalks away into the crowd. Legolas, having realized what he's done, attempts to follow after him, only to be stopped by Gimli's hand on his elbow.

"Let him go, lad," the dwarf say. "Let him be."

A wounded expression crosses the Elf's features. Distraught, he turns to me.

"He'll be fine. He just needs some time to cool down." I take a slow step forward, careful to mind my proximity. Gimli may tease us from time to time, but he cannot know the words we shared the night before. No one can.

"Come on," I say softly, placing a hand on his back. "Let's get out of here."

Hours past, and night has fallen by the time the soldiers have taken their positions on the battlements. Moonlight bathes the fortress in an eerie blue light as I patrol along the outer rim, keeping a careful eye out for Legolas and the others. The three had gone back down into the armory to ready themselves, though I have a feeling that a certain Elf was looking to apologize. I myself chose to remain above ground. One can only spend so much time in a cave before they start to feel starved for fresh air. And, given my distaste of mail and heavy armor, I decided to don a lighter getup meant for the archers. Any alternative is better than wearing some wretched mess of chain links and steel plates.

My boots scuff against the stone as I pace back and forth. It seems almost surreal that the battle has finally come upon us. It seems as if it were just yesterday that we were leaving the sanctuary of Rivendell. Strange, how time seems to catch up with you so quickly.

I shake my head and gaze out onto the horizon. A grey haze has begun to mask over the sky, signifying a coming storm. A growl rumbles in my throat. Waging battle at night is one thing, but in the rain, as well?

Valar help us all.

Just as I am about to head back towards the cavern, a single horn blast slices through the air. Utter silence falls upon us, followed by the frantic scuffle of feet as soldiers struggle to get a look over the battlements.

"What manner of signal is that?" I cry. When my question goes unanswered, I shoulder past several men before making my way over to the stone wall. Only then do I learn the cause of the gleeful shouts that have begun to fill the air.

A great elven army marches up the long pathway towards the deep. Moments later the front gates swing open, allowing the elves entry. A burst of joy fills my heart, and before I know it I have sprinted down the ramparts and found myself face to face with the leader of the elven force, who has already begun talk with Theoden.

"How is this possible?" the king asks.

The Elf bows, further obscuring his face from my view. I step further down the stairs, curious as to his identity.

"I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell." The voice is smooth, clear, and unmistakably familiar. "An alliance once existed between Elves and men. Long ago we fought and died together." Footsteps echo behind me, and the Elf turns, revealing the proud face of Haldir the Marchwarden. "We come to honor that allegiance."

Someone blurs past me, and I barely have enough time to react before Aragorn has rushed forward to embrace the Elf. Haldir stiffens, clearly puzzled by the outburst of gratitude, before returning the gesture. Clasping his hands the Elf's shoulders, Aragorn smiles. "You are most welcome."

Haldir nods to him, and I fear that I would not have moved at all were it not for Legolas's guiding hand on my waist, beckoning me forward. Looking past the Ranger, Haldir meets my gaze with a warm one of his own.

"My Lady Keira," he says, bowing again.

"It is good to see you," I beam. Despite my better judgment, I step forward to hug him. Haldir embraces me in return, and I pull away to meet his eyes. "It seems you've brought half of Lothlorien with you!"

Haldir chuckles lowly and casts a bemused smile at Legolas, who has come to stand at my side. As if on cue, the elven soldiers turn in unison and stand at attention before us. Nodding his satisfaction, the Marchwarden looks to Theoden.

"We are proud to fight alongside men once more."

Yellow torchlights glimmer against the darkness of the night. A wall of black has begun to amass in the distance, signifying the approach of Saruman's army. The thunderous clamor of many hundreds of steel boots rattles in my very bones as I stand motionless on the ramparts. Legolas remains close beside me, his elbow barely brushing against my forearm. A low thump sounds next to the Elf, and I look over to see Gimli struggling to peer over the Deepening Wall.

"You could've picked a better spot," he grumbles.

"Agreed," I sigh, folding my arms across my chest. "Though I doubt this is a view you'd care to see." Out of the corner of my eye, I see Aragorn approaching us. The Ranger comes to stand behind Gimli and Legolas, his brow furrowed into an imposing line.

"Well, lad," says the dwarf, "whatever luck you live by, let's hope it lasts the night."

Legolas grips hard onto his bow, which he holds out before him. "Your friends are with you, Aragorn."

I shake my head. "I pray we might find victory with the dawn."

Aragorn grunts, "Indeed," before striding off towards Haldir's line of archers.

No sooner has he departed than a mighty crackle of thunder emanates from the heavens, and rain begins to fall. Heavy droplets create a resounding rumble as they beat down upon stone and armor. The Uruk-Hai continue to advance. By now I am able to make out their helmed faces and yellowed, gnashing teeth.

I close my eyes, allowing the rain to drip freely from my lashes.

"Blessed Valar," I whisper under my breath. "May your grace be with us all, for we cannot do this alone. Give these men the strength to fight today." My hands tremble slightly. "And give me the courage to stand with them as your chosen."

Aragorn's voice rings from the ramparts as he prepares the men for battle. I open my eyes and watch as a large Uruk-Hai steps onto a protruding rock, bellowing his rage as the others continue to approach the Deep. Already they are within several hundred meters of it.

Something warm brushes against my hand. A gentle touch, barely enough to warrant a response, yet I know better than anymore what it signifies. I look over to see Legolas's eyes boring into my own.

"Whatever happens," he says quietly, "know that I am glad to be at your side."

Smiling softly, I twine my fingers with his own. "Take care of yourself, Prince. I would hate to see your pretty face marred."

A glimmer of mischief sparks in his eyes, and he opens his mouth to respond just as a piercing roar resonates from down below. The Uruk Captain raises an arm, bringing the army to an abrupt halt. Silence falls upon the fortress.

"What's happening out there?" Gimli jumps up and down in an effort to see beyond the stone wall.

"Shall I describe it to you…" Legolas turns to look at him. "Or would you like me to find you a box?"

There is a brief silence which is soon broken by my rather unattractive snort. Gimli grins widely and laughs, and together we look out towards the vast Uruk army that lies far beneath. The Captain bellows loudly, and the creatures stamp their spears in unison. The air is soon filled with monstrous howls and clanging metal.

Swift as the night, both human and elven archers knock their longbows. Silver arrowheads glisten in the rain as I ready my bow, fingers drumming along its body. I had chosen to carry it and my two longknives for both distant and close range combat. No sense standing about while others rain down death from above.

The longbow feels foreign in my hands as I pull back the bowstring. It is of elven make, gifted to me by one of Haldir's soldiers. The swan feathers fletched onto the arrow brush against my cheekbone as I train my focus onto the Uruk-Hai Captain. The arrow tip bobs up and down over the creature's head.

"Steady your arm," Legolas says. "Concentrate on your target. Let everything else melt away."

I do. Breathing in deeply, I allow myself to ignore the rain pelting down from the skies. I no longer feel the damp hair clinging to my temples. I hardly even flinch when the first arrow is let fly and finds its mark in an Uruk's neck. Aragorn yells something, but the damage has already been done. The creature falls forward dead with a grotesque gurgle. Its comrades scream in protest and, as if time hads suddenly rushed back into reality, the battle commences.

The Uruk-Hai forces charge forward with deafening clamor as the archers set to work on them.

"Faeg i-varv dna lanc a nu ranc." Legolas has hardly finished speaking before I have released my arrow. Air hisses between my teeth as I watch the object hurdle down into oblivion before burying itself in the Uruk Captain's skull. Smirking at my success, I reach back and draw another shaft.

Aragorn gives another cry, and the Lorien Elves send a massive volley of arrows streaking down into the swarm of Uruk-Hai. Dozens of creatures fall, only to be replaced by countless others that trample over their still-writhing corpses.

Gimli bounces eagerly. "Did they hit anything?"

I loosen a second arrow, then a third and fourth. Each strikes down one of the beasts.

"Yes, Gimli." My eyes are wide with the rush of battle as I turn to look at him. "But I fear there are plenty more to fight."

A shout of, "Fire!" sounds from behind me, and another volley sails overhead. Arrow after arrow pierces into the mass of Uruks, but their numbers seem endless. Sickening thuds resonate from the far battlements as massive cross bolts fell several of the Elves. Angered, I move to aid them before being halted in place by Aragorn's voice.

"Pendraith!"

"Ladders," I translate. "They're coming up the wall."

"Good!" roars Gimli, eagerly hoisting up his axe.

A metallic hiss blends into the cacophony of battle as the soldiers unsheathe their swords. I strap the bow onto my back and draw out my two Elvish blades. The runes engraved into their hilts shimmer in the light of the moon.

"Come to me," I taunt. My eyes burn as three dark ladders lurch into view, each filled to the brim with Uruk berserkers. The sight of them does nothing more than increase my rage. I hate them. I hate them for what they've done for Saruman, I hate them for the wickedness they've spread across the land. But the thing that I hate most, that overpowers every one of their countless evils, is all too simple.

They took Carca.

And thus the moment the first ladder makes contact with the stone, I am on it like a wolf on bloodscent. Hideous shrieks fill my ears as I bear down upon the Uruks. My blades are a whirlwind, slicing and severing and piercing whatever comes to close. Hot blood splatters across my face, but I can't bring myself to care. The rage has taken its hold, and I welcome it with open arms.

"Filth!" I scream, thrusting my blade into a berserker's abdomen. The beast snarls at me as it attempts to bolster its sword, but the life has left it before it has a chance to do so. I kick the body away before moving on to another, even larger target. A full grown Uruk, not unlike the Captain I felled just moments earlier. And just like its fallen leader, the beast harbors a terrifyingly large scythe. I curse under my breath and am just able to duck away as the creature bears down upon me. Its weapon slices through open air as I tuck and roll, aiming a well-placed jab at its knee. My blade finds a chink in the beast's armor, and dark blood fountains out from the wound.

"Rat!" it bellows. The Uruk manages to snag a fistful of my hair. Thrashing, I reach back and stab my dagger into its forearm. A howl of pain rattles my eardrums as more blood spurts out onto the stone. By now the ground is slick with it. Anger burns in the creature's eyes as it swings at me once more, only to be rewarded with a knife to the neck. I wrench away the blade and kick the Uruk backwards. My inhuman strength propels the beast up and over the battlements, and its black shape plummets down into the abyss.

"Legolas!" I hear Gimli cry. "Two already!"

"I'm on seventeen!" comes the Elf's response.

I roll my eyes. Now? Really?

"I'll have no pointy-ear outscoring me!" Gimli bellows out a war cry as he charges at the Uruk-Hai, cutting down all who dare venture too close to his axe. Legolas knocks and releases arrows faster than I can comprehend, with each twang of the bowstring signifying another death.

The initial fight lasts for what feels like an age. Waves upon waves of Uruks stream up onto the ramparts. Even when Aragorn successfully knocks on of the ladders down, the beasts are not faltered in the slightest. Yet the combined forces of Men and Elves continue to hold their own. With every Uruk that is felled I find myself wondering if fate might be on our side, after all.

That is, until I feel pulse.

It is a deep, ugly sound, like the throbbing heart of some great beast. The Uruks hear it, too, for as they rush towards me by the dozens, I note their fangs are all bared in devilish smiles. Something is about to happen. Panicked, I shove back an oncoming berserker before scrambling to the edge of the battlements. I peer down and catch sight of a lone Uruk-Hai charging through the masses. Its pale fingers are wrapped around a torch gleaming with platinum flame.

"Togo hon dad, Legolas!" Aragron's shout carries down from the eastern ramparts. Looking back, I watch as the Ranger sprints down the staircase, his face smeared with blood and dirt. Legolas loosens an arrow into the creature's shoulder. The Uruk falters, but it continues its charge.

Bring it down, Legolas.

The Prince fires another shot, this time in the opposite shoulder. Staggered, the beast gives a warbled cry before flinging itself into the Deep's drainage vent.

And in the blink of an eye, the tide of battle is turned completely.

A massive explosion rips apart the Deeping Wall. The ground caves in beneath me, and I let out a shriek of surprise as I find myself tumbling downwards. Stones and bodies careen overhead as soldiers and Uruks alike are crushed amongst the rumble. Something heavy bashes into the side of my skull, thrusting me into a sea of darkness. A distant sensation of pain ripples throughout my spine, and all I can hear is a single, piercing note that rings in my ears.

I am deaf. I am blind. And I am utterly helpless.

A haze of confusion fogs my mind as I try desperately to claw my way back to consciousness. My vision returns blearily, and I am just able to make out the shapes of Uruk-Hai as they stampede towards me. Though my ears are oblivious, I know that the air is filled with the agonized screams of soldiers as they are ruthlessly cut down.

No. My lips move, but not a sound comes out. My body aches as I force myself to roll over onto my stomach. Rough debris digs into my palms as I work to drag myself forward into the Keep. Hard boots trample my shoulders and back as the Uruks storm past. Each blow nearly takes the breath out of me, and I give a cry as a sharp steel edge slices across my brow. Blood drips down into my eyes, blurring them even further. The ringing in my ears grows unbearably loud.

Get up.

A deliberate kick in the temple halts my feeble progress. Pain clouds everything; my head, my body, even my voice itself. Heavy pressure pins my right leg to the ground. To stand and fight would not only be difficult; it would be impossible.

But I am the Wererider, and it will take more than an explosion to bring an end to me.

Keira! Legolas's silent call vibrates between my ears.

I'm… alright, I reply.

Where are you, melleth nin? Are you hurt?

My mind voice is strained as I work to focus my thoughts. Don't… worry for me. The soldiers need you. The Uruks have… broken through. We must drive them back.

There is a brief silence, during which I can all but feel the sorrow drifting through our mental link. Fight with heart, Wererider, he says at long last.

And you as well, my love.

My arms tremble as I lay upon the ground, coated in blood both foreign and my own. A cringe pulls at my lips as I force my weary legs to bear my weight, only to stagger violently as more Uruks charge through the rubble. Each one of the monsters is so intent on entering the fortress that they hardly notice my presence. Their eyes glow with malice and bloodlust, but that is nothing in comparison to the red light gleaming from my irises as I turn to face them.

Oh, how they shall come to regret this.

A single dagger still lies clutched in my hand, and I hold it ready at my side, muscles tensed in preparation to spring upon the first Uruk that dares to draw near. One such beast notices me as it rushes by. Snarling its glee, the Uruk grinds its boots into the rubble in order to halt its rapid pace. I whip around to face it, fully intent on flinging my dagger into its throat.

My arm has not so much as moved an inch before a massive roar shatters the root of my deafness.

The sound is so powerful that it sends tremors rippling throughout the stone. Uruks and men alike halt in their steps and look up to watch as a great shadow passes through the overcast sky. The vaguely winged shape would be difficult for any mortal man to attempt to identify, but I know it all too well.

Lypta.

Lighting shatters through the night, and the illuminated clouds frame the body of a fiery golden dragon as it plummets down from the heavens. Brilliant scales glow as if gilded with flame, and the skies tremble when the beast gives a stone-crushing roar of fury. The Lypta's heavy wings produce a concussive beat that drills into my bleeding eardrums. I shake my head against the pain, but that movement is all it takes for the beast's crimson eyes to seek me out amongst the rubble. My heart gives a shudder of panic as the creature dives lower, its sharp wings all but clipping off the top portion of the Helm's battlements. I drop to the ground as mighty talons snap closed just inches above my head.

"They have a Dragon!" wails one of the soldiers.

"We're doomed!" screams another.

The Uruk-Hai howl their triumph as the beast soars overhead, its maw aflame with dark magic. A single, glittering eye bores into me from above.

You can never win, Wererider, hisses a voice. The darkness will overcome you. You will be as one of us.

"Never!" I howl into the night. "Come to me if you wish, monster, but know that I am a prize that you shall never obtain!"

Terrible laughter vibrates in the stone as the Dragon makes a second pass, this time releasing a torrent of fire upon the line of Men and Elves. The flames are purely magical, for they do not wound the Uruk-Hai in the slightest. Dozens of soldier, however, are left writhing in agony as they struggle to put out the blaze. I watch in numbed terror as the Lypta swoops lower in order to alight upon the Helm's high tower. Its talons latch into the stone as the creature smirks down upon the agonized men. Their cries seem to do nothing but please it further.

My chest burns with rage as I extend my longknife, fully intent on challenging the dragon here and now, only to be stopped in my tracks when something long and sharp plunges into my right shoulder. Pain explodes throughout my entire body, and I gasp aloud as I feel what is left of my magic shatter into the void of oblivion.

The rune fang… the spell… they've used it again.

"Filth!" The brutish Uruk slams its heel into the backs of my knees, knocking me to the ground. The knife wound burns like a thousand blistering rods as I curl in on myself. Agony has crippled me from the inside out, and my resulting wail is terribly loud.

"What have you done?" I howl. "What have you done to me?"

Bring her to me, rumbles the Lypta. The Dark Lord will want her alive.

Gravel crunches as the Uruk steps forward. Then, with a single, massive hand, he grabs hold of my tunic waistband and slings me over his shoulder.

The Dragon's purr emanates through the night. Good.

"Keira!"

A panicked voice echoes out amongst the chaos. Red eyes flare as the Lypta angles its long snout towards the source of the commotion. A single form sprints along the remains of the Deepening wall. Blond hair whips behind him in wet strands as the figure leaps up onto the battlements, leaving him face to face with the Lypta itself. In one swift movement he has knocked an arrow in his longbow and trained its steely tip on the creature's forehead.

"Legolas," I whisper.

"What is this?" The Dragon's voice is loud and cracked as it finally speaks aloud. "An Elfling has come to challenge me?" Talons scrap against the stone as the beast slinks down from the tower, its eyes trained maliciously on the Prince. "She belongs to the Master," hisses the Lypta, "The Wererider is destined to become his servant. Do not think to change his mind, Elf."

"Go, Keira!" Legolas cries. "While you still can!"

"She is mine now," it snarls. "Do not think you can defeat me. I have fulfilled my purpose to Sauron himself." A red tongue flickers from its lips as the beast comes to stand upon the battlements. "And now, those who survive must perish… in fire!"

The Lypta's chest swells with heat just as Legolas's arrow sails free of the long bow. The object streaks through the air before colliding with the Dragon's head at enormous velocity. But instead of plunging into its skull, the arrow simply clatters off of it and spirals uselessly to the ground.

Terror constricts my heart, and I strike a hard blow upon the Uruk's head. The beast staggers beneath me as I twist out of its grip. My elbow collides again with the nape of its neck, propelled by the strength of my anger alone. Tears spring into my eyes as I feel the skin split upon impact, but my pain is short-lived when I hear a hollow snap echo from the creature's spine. A wet gurgle sounds from the Uruk's throat before it falls face first into the rubble. I reach out to grab my discarded knife before plunging it into the creatures back for good measure. The movement catches the eye of the Dragon, and it pivots its great head to look at me. Ripening flames flicker from its maw. Noting its distraction, Legolas loosens another arrow. The dark shaft sails through open air before sticking itself in the beast's blazing red eye. A piercing shriek tears from the Lypta's mouth as it rears up, clawing furiously at its wound.

The Dragon's caterwauls tremble in the earth as I scramble up the jagged side that was once the center of the Deepening wall. Sharp pieces of stone slice into my palms, scattering droplets of blood across a sea of endless grey. With a grunt of effort I heave myself to the top, only to be greeted by two snarling Uruks. I swipe at one with my dagger and tuck and roll between the legs of the second. My quick movements seem to confuse the creatures, for they aren't able to sight me again until I have slit open their exposed necks. Bodies crumple behind me as I make for the high tower. The Lypta appears to have finally dislodged the arrow and has now begun its frantic search for me. Legolas, thank the Valar, is nowhere to be seen.

"Wererider!" it bellows. Blood seeps from its wounded eye as it swings its head wildly. "Where is the Wererider?"

The aching in my bones seems a lesser thing compared to the rage burning in my heart as I gaze upon the beast. He was going to kill Legolas. My Legolas.

With a screech of malic, the Dragon spreads its wings and leaps into the sky. Its tail lashes as it ascends, demolishing a portion of the battlements and sending chunks of rock raining down upon the soldiers far below. I pause to look up just as the Lypta's fiery form disappears within the clouds.

It will be back.

A loud cry of "Lass!" captures my attention. Startled, I look back to see Gimli rushing up towards me. His axe bears a notable red sheen, and my eyes bug upon noting his battle-crazed expression.

"They could use a hand down there," he pants, "Those beasts are going to overwhelm them."

My jaw hardens as I clasp his shoulder. "Lead on, Gimli."

The dwarf turns to make for the Deepening wall. Twirling my dagger, I take a step towards him before being frozen in place by a hand on the small of my back. The touch is fleeting, but just long enough to give me a moment's comfort.

"Be safe," I whisper.

"And you, melleth nin."

By the time I look around, he is long gone.

Minutes pass, but they seem like hours as Gimli and I fight through the dozens of Uruks pouring onto the battlements. His axe swirls through the rain in a silver blur, whacking off the heads and limbs of an Uruk who dares venture too close. All the while my blade is there to back him up, finishing off the wounded and covering his flank from any damage.

Upon reaching the broken edge of the Wall, Gimli gives a sharp cry of, "Aragorn!" Then, without another word, he leaps down onto the Uruks swarming bellow. I follow suit not a moment later, only to find myself faced with a much different landing. Whereas Gimli went unnoticed at first, many of the Uruks had turned their gazes upward by the time I jumped after him.

And now, I am left to fall into a pile of sharpened armor and brandished swords.

A howl of pain scrapes from my throat as my legs slam down onto the broad shoulders of a Uruk-hai. The beast snarls before aiming a swipe at my head. Its scythe slices off a large patch of hair, but I am able to hook my knee around its head and stick it the neck before it is able to swing again. I leap off of the creature's body before turning to the rest of its comrades. A sick grin spreads at my lips as I note the bloodlust gleaming in each of their beady eyes.

The next moments are a blur.

My arms are a whirlwind as I slice and stab at exposed flesh and chinks in armor. The puddles of water underfoot go red with Uruk blood as bodies fall all around me. Gimli adds to the chaos as he downs a great many of the beasts, all while bellowing a dwarven war cry.

I dare say we could've killed dozens of beasts of one of them hadn't knocked the dwarf off balance. Gimli falls backwards, only to find himself completely immersed in a large puddle. The Uruk-hai stream over him, burying the dwarf further. Panic flutters in my chest, and I kick back at an approaching Uruk before sprinting over to him.

A loud cry of "Hado i philin!" sounds from further within the Helm just as a volley of Elven arrows comes raining down into the masses of Uruk-hai. Several creatures collapse all around me as I kneel down beside a struggling Gimli. I grip hold of his forearm before heaving backwards. The dwarf springs to his feet with surprising agility, even despite the added weight of the water.

"Watch yourself," I say.

"And you, lass."

I nod once to him, and Gimli hoists up his axe before slashing his way into the fray once more. I raise up my dagger, fully prepared to join in, just as a sharp cry echoes down from the high ramparts. Frowning, I dodge my way out of the fighting and scramble back up onto the battlements. There, I am able to take sight of a group of elves fending off a far larger swarm of Uruk-hai. A glint of red fabric reveals the identity of one of them.

"Haldir," I whisper. Dread fills my heart as I realize what dire straights the Elf has gotten himself into.

"Aragorn!" Theoden's voice resonates through the deafening chaos of battle. "Fall back to the Keep! Get your men out of there!"

No. Aragorn, they will not make it out!

My growing panic sends a fresh wave of energy coursing through my weary body. Heart pounding, I scan the Deep frantically before taking sight of a stairway leading up to where Haldir and his men struggle against the Uruks.

"Nan Barad!" cries Aragorn from far below.

Hold on, my friend!

I take off into a blistering sprint. My agility is put to good use as I bound over fallen soldiers and scramble overtop large pieces of rubble. The cuts in my hands string like a thousand needles, but I force myself to ignore them, even when blood begins to course down onto my dagger hilt.

Haldir's life is at stake. There is no time for wallowing in self misery.

I slam my elbows into oncoming Uruks before giving a final, mighty leap to in order to reach the top of the staircase. My boots slap against the wet stone, drawing the attention of Uruks and Elves included. Haldir turns, his eyes brightening, and I open my mouth to yell a warning just as a black dagger sinks into his abdomen. Pain twists at his features as the Elf raises his blade and plunges it into his attacker. The Uruk falls dead, but I know full well what damage has been rent.

"No," I whisper, then louder, "Valar, no!"

Time seems to slow as I tear through the swollen masses, my dagger plunging into anything that comes near. Haldir collapses just as I drop to my knees beside him. My arms fly out to break his fall, and the Elf gives a shuddering gasp.

"My lady…" he sputters, "Go… The others…"

"I'm not going anywhere." I curl an arm around his shoulder and place my free hand overtop his bleeding wound. Haldir's eyes meet with my own as I stare down at him, willing my magic to return to me. "Stay with me, mellon nin," I say.

"It is too much. I…My soldiers..." Haldir's head lolls back into my arm.

"Stay with me, Haldir!" I cry.

The Elf stares sightlessly up into the heavens. I pull him tighter to me, and just as I feel the last ounce of life leave him, a great light overcomes me, and I envelop us both in magic. Platinum swirls seep out from every pore in my body as I will my energy into his wound. Haldir's eyes glaze white while his muscles go rigid with unearthly tension.

"What strength you have given me, oh blessed Valar, let it be given to him," I chant. "Take him in your arms and heal him with your light."

Haldir remains motionless. Desperation overtakes me, and I slam the side of my fist into his chest. "Let him be spared!" I wail. "Let him be spared!"

The power in my voice trembles through my entire body. Haldir's chest swells with air, and I gasp with relief. He will live.

"Keira!" Aragorn rushes over to me, his gaze alight with worry and panic. "We are overrun. We must fall back to the Keep."

I nod once, then gesture to Haldir. "Get him out of here," I say. "My fight is with the Lypta, now."

The Ranger frowns. "The Uruk-hai are too many," he says. "You would be cut down before you reached it."

"I am the Wererider, Aragorn." I grip onto his forearm, fingers scraping against the metal cuffs. "I will do what I must to save us."

"Keira, I—"

"Go, my friend! Get your men out of here!"

And I run.

The sky burns like a thousand wildfires as the Lypta seethes far above the clouds, building its anger until it rages as bright as the sun itself. Blood sprays all around me as I slash apart my foes, slowly but surely fighting my way to the Helm's pinnicle.

"Wererider!" The terrible shriek pierces into my very souls the Dragon appears overhead. Though blinded in an eye, the creature's gaze is as sharp as a falcon's. It takes me in its sights all but instantly and sends a wave of fire gushing from its maw. I drop to the ground as the flames sweep overhead, scorching both men and Uruks alike. Its spell is broken; fire now burns but ally and foe alike.

"Come to me!" I cry. "Face me now, wicked beast. Let us finish this once and for all!"

The Dragon's wings slice through the air like red blades as it comes crashing down upon higher battlements. Stones crumble all around as stalk forward, dagger raised in preparation.

"You think you can defeat me?" it drawls. "How very foolish of you. And here I thought Wereriders were to be the wise ones among us."

My lip curls as I whip my dagger back, plunging it into the throat of an approaching Uruk. "Drego!" I shriek. "Flee while you can, for I swear that when this fight is done, your blood will bathe these dark walls crimson!"

"And your blood shall be with it!"

With a quaking roar the Lypta leaps down from its perch and stretches its claws towards my chest. I am just able to duck to the side to avoid the vicious weapons, though one still manages to tear a gash into my shoulder. Blood flashes from the wound as the Dragon latches onto the battlements, wings spread in a display of rage. Uruk-Hai tumble down on either side of it, but it pays no head. Its terrible eyes are focused only on me.

Flames lick from its nostrils as I charge towards it, fully aware that one burst of flame could end my life. Howling my rage, I vault off of a pile of rubble and stab my dagger into its neck. The Lypta screams its pain as I drag downwards, only to be halted by its thick scales.

"You cannot end me!" it bellows. "My hide is of gold, my maw of flame!"

The Dragon jerks violently, smashing me against a broken slab of stone. Something in my arm cracks with the impact, but pain is numb to me as I scramble to my feet. A smile stretches at the beast's lips as it notes the white sliver piercing through the skin on my left forearm.

"Broken so soon," it hisses. "What a disgrace you are to your mighty kin."

I aim a disoriented swipe at its muzzle, only to be knocked back down with a blow to the chest. My arm fractures further, and I give an agonized cry as pain flares through my body. The adrenaline that once drove me into a frenzy bleeds away into nothing, leaving only exhaustion and pain in its wake.

Snarling, the Lypta places a scaled forepaw on my chest, pushing me farther down into the pile of stone. A bloodcurdling cry of "Keira!" echoes up from the battlefield, and my heart plummets. Legolas.

"Your elfling worries for you," purrs the beast, bringing its head down to mine. "Perhaps I should eliminate him to spare him the sight of watching me gut his precious Wererider like a wriggling fish."

"Don't you dare," I snarl. "Don't you dare touch him."

"Oh?"

The Lypta curls its claws around my back and slams me once more against the stone. I cry out despite myself, overcome by the agony.

"Legolas!" I wail. "Run! Go with Aragorn! Get to the—"

Roaring, the Dragon tosses me towards an Uruk standing nearby. "Take her. I wish for the Wererider to watch the ruin I shall unfold." Grunting its agreement, the beast lifts me from the ground by the neck, leaving me gasping and clawing for breath. My legs kick at free air, but the Uruk's grip only tightens.

"Keira! Keira!"

Two arrows clatter against the Lypta's face, and it hisses its malcontent. I can just make out Legolas's sodden form as he sprints towards us. "No!" I scream, "Legolas, stop!"

The creature's lips curl into a devilish smile as it curls back its long neck, preparing to unleash inferno upon the Elf standing far below it. I watch it all in slow sight, unable to fight back. Unable to move. Unable even to breathe.

And thus, when all hope as failed, I call for him.

Carca.

No voice. Not even a whisper. Yet still I persist.

Carca. Please… If you're there… help us.

I know it's hopeless. I know that the chances of him answering are all but none. In my desperation I extend my mind out to Legolas, attempting to create a barrier despite my lack of magic. Blue light sizzles in the space before him, but I am too weak for it to manifest into something more. Legolas turns to look at me just as an orange light glows into the Lypta's mouth.

I come.

An image flashes before my eyes. Golden eyes. Bright as the sun. Ancient as the seas of Valinor.

I come.

The voice. It cannot be so, but it sounds so very, impossibly real. I try to cling to it as it echoes in my mind's deepest recesses. The Lypta hears it, too, for its eyes lose their heat, and its fiery maw soon dims to embers.

Can it be? Can it really be?

Far above me, in the dismal abyss, I watch as the clouds of desolation part, and a single winged shape comes streaking down from the heavens. Its black fur shimmers beneath the moonlight as it the creature gives a mighty roar, one that lifts the hearts of all who witness it.

A scream of rage erupts from the Dragon's mouth as the dark form slams full-force into the back of its neck, jaws clamping on its golden spine. The earth shudders beneath me as the scaled beast finds itself dragged down by the force of the impact. Both Uruks and soldiers alike pause to look up as five more shapes pierce through the veil of gathering darkness. They swoop down to attack the Lypta, maws agape yowls of anger, and I hardly have time to react as the Lypta tumbles from the battlements and down below the Deepening Wall. The black creature releases its grip on the Dragon in order to land on the rubble beside me, stirring up a cloud of dust and ash. The Uruk turns towards it, and as the haze clears, I feel a light return to my eyes.

"Release her."

Carca's voice is deep, dark, and filled with such rage as I have never heard before.

The grip on my throat vanishes as the Uruk snarls a reply, and my wounded form is left to crumple to the ground. The impact stuns me, but I manage to regain my bearings enough to take sight of my beloved friend.

Only, I do not recognize him.

The creature that bears Carca's voice is unlike anything I have seen. He is vengeance and raw power, and the mighty wings stretched out at his sides seem to blot out the very stars themselves. White fangs glisten beneath ebony lips while streams of blood course down from his muzzle. But it is his eyes that truly capture my attention. Their golden depths are filled with such absolute rage that it is a miracle the Uruk does not fall dead on sight. Carca's brilliant gaze meets with my own before darting back to my captor's. Far below us, the Lypta screams.

"I said… Release her!"

His roar is loud enough to shake the stones beneath me, and despite the pain coursing through my body, I smile.

Carca.

Carca is here.

And he has come for me.

The Uruk snarls makes to retreat, but it is far too late. Carca gives a yowl of anger and lunges for him. The two of them tumble down behind me, and the Uruk gives a sudden shriek before its head is ripped free of its shoulders. Carca flings it into across the debris before tossing away the body as well. Then, and only then, does the great Wolf turn his great head towards me.

My heart lurches as I make to rise, only to be halted by a sharp burst of pain in my broken arm. Carca's eyes widen in horror, and he is at my side within an instant.

"You came," I whisper. My arms tremble, and it takes all I have within me not to lurch forward and bury my face in his mane.

"Keira." His powerful voice cracks with emotion. A single wing stretches up and over me as Carca bends down to nuzzle my face. "What have they done to you?"

My eyes well with moisture. "You're here. You're alright."

The wolf gives a low whine as he lowers his head. "I should never have left you. If I had only—"

"Don't," I say, running a hand across his cheek. "It wasn't your fault. It was my job to stay with you, to make sure nothing happened to either of us."

Carca closes his eyes, and even through the droplets of rain, it is impossible to ignore the tears that trickle out from them. "And it was my job to keep you safe."

I smile softly. "You saved my life," I say. "Just like you have a thousand times. Do not regret something you could not have prevented. We are both alive, and that is what matters." I try once more to rise to my feet, but when I fall again, Carca is there to catch me. He keeps me braced on a wing while he bends down to wrench a gauntlet from the body of a nearby soldier.

"Here," he says. "You cannot fight well with such an injury. Use this to bind it."

Winching, I take it from him and strap it overtop the protruding bone. Pain splinters from the muscle as the sharp piece sinks its way back into my flesh. A growl of pain escapes me as I let my left arm hang limp at my side and I tug myself onto his back, willing strength into my weak limbs. The saddle I fastened for him is gone, likely discarded by Saruman. I try my best to ignore the thick scars roping along his shoulder blades, and the feeling of his ribcage protruding from his sides. I feel a bit of the pain dissipate as a fierce anger burns within me. That small bit of renewed energy as all I need to summon an orb in my palm. It is a weak magic, unstable and difficult to control, but it will have to do.

"Let us end this," I snarl.

Carca growls his approval, and he unfolds his wings before leaping off the battlements. Down below, the fiery form of the Lypta writhes and bellows as the Breyta warriors tear at its golden flesh. Great tears stretch through its webbed wings, and I lower myself onto Carca's back just as it bears down upon it. His claws tear apart at the thin flesh, ripping off chucks while I send sharp magic splintering into the back of its skull. A golden blur flashes past, and it takes less than a moment for me to release its Anca. The Wolf flaps high above the battlements before tucking in his wings and setting his sights on the Lypta's wounded neck.

"My Master will come!" it roars. "You will all burn in agony before the end!"

For the Wererider!

Anca's mindcall reaches my ears just as he smashes directly into the Lypta's throat. The blow seems to act as the final straw, for with a wail of retreat, the Dragon raises its wounded wings and flees towards the horizon. The Breyta release their hold on it, mouths bloody and sore from the strain of battle.

"To the keep!" I call. "There are too many of them! We must fall back!"

The warriors all howl their agreement, and Carca snarls at the Lypta's retreating form before setting his sights on the main gate. Dark shafts whizz past as Uruk archers take aim, but the agility of the Breyta cannot be matched. They weave through the air with deadly grace, feathers glinting and whispering in the moonlight. Carca's eyes dart towards the entryway, where a stout shape batters away at oncoming Uruks.

"Gimli!" I exclaim.

The Wolf chuckles. "Allow me." Mind calls echo amongst the group as Carca coordinates the assault on the bridge. His wings rustle against the rain as he streaks towards the mass of Uruks, mouth agape and paws outstretched. Then, just as one of the foul beasts sounds a cry of alarm, he plows into them. Armor crashes against armor as dozens of Uruks plummet to their deaths. Those that remain shriek with terror as the remaining Breyta finish them off, clearing the path if only for a moment.

Carca stretches out his wings and snatches hold of Gimli before swooping up at blistering speed. The dwarf gives a shout of surprise, limbs flailing as he finds himself carried high up into the night.

"Lass!" he cries. "There'd best be a good reasoning for this!"

A growl rumbles in Carca's chest as he sets his sights on the main gates. Some distance below, a soldier cries out as a swarm of Uruk-Hai snap his sword in two.

"Wererider!" barks the voice of Valdra. "Your forces need aid! They cannot flee with so many fighting against them!"

"Alright," I say. "Two of you break off and find Aragorn and Legolas. Help them get the soldiers to safety" I send mind pictures of both to the group, and they snarl their agreement. "As for those remaining, help us clear the gates. We must give the soldiers a pathway to retreat."

"Yes, my liege." Valdra banks to the left while Gwador and Averil make for the far right battlements, leaving three Breyta left to fight with us. Glancing over my shoulder, my eyes instantly seek out the bright golden form of Anca flying at Carca's right flank. Bragol and Ancelin fly opposite him, while Thalin and Gondien guard the rear.

Thalin, where are your brother and his rider? I ask.

A wave of sadness emanates from the Breyta's mind as his onyx eyes shift to mine. Thorontur suffered grave wounds at the hands of an orc archer. Thalias chose to take him back to the Cave to heal.

I grit my teeth in anger. Orc poison is a terrible thing. We can only pray that the Elf is strong enough to withstand it.

"Carca," I say. "Are you wounded?"

"I am well," he replies. "The rest can be spoken of later."

His words ring ominously, but I try to ignore the dread growing within me as he angles himself towards the gates. Several Uruk-Hai turn to look at him just as Gimli comes barreling down on top of them. Carca's massive forepaws crush their skulls moments later, wings beating heavily as he dodges oncoming creatures. It is a deadly dance of claws and teeth and steel and magic; crackling energy ripples over the stone as electrical currents stab out from my hands and straight into the Uruks. A metal tinge permeates the air as the light bursts from their blackening corpses, illuminating our forms to all who look to see. The three Breyta flurry down all around us while their riders slice and stab with their blades.

"Riders, to me!" I cry, raising up my hand. "Fight on, men of Rohan! Fight on, Elves of Lorien! Keep hope, and you keep your lives!"

"Aragorn!"

Gimli's cry alerts both Carca and myself, and the Breyta turns to reveal the form of Legolas hauling a rope up onto the high battlements. Gimli rushes over to aid him, and within an instant Aragorn's head appears just above it.

A terrible crunch resounds as the mass of Uruks finally breaches the Helm's main gates. "Fall back!" cries Gamling.

"Into the Hornburg, quickly!" roars Carca. The great Wolf bashes a group of Uruks with a swipe of his wing before touching down and sprinting towards the open gates. The other Breyta appear behind us, ushering in the soldiers while keeping the Uruk-hai at bay. Aragorn and Gimli rush past us with Legolas close behind, and Carca bends down to snag a fallen soldier boy by the collar of his shirt. Seconds pass that seem as long as hours as the remainder of Theoden and Haldir's men stream into the Hornburg. Carca places the boy on the stone flour within before turning and howling to the other Breyta. Moments later, Anca's golden form streaks inside, followed by Valdra, Gwador, and Thalin. Bragol appears just as the gates to the Keep swing shut, leaving all those who remain barricaded within the Deep.

This is it. My mind is weak as I struggle to comprehend what few soldiers remain. This is our last stand.

"What now?" asks Valdra, her eyes bright with battle. Setting my jaw, I turn to look at Theoden.

"Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east."

I sigh. "Now, we wait."

Ta-da! Good grief, this chapter took forever to write. Battle scenes are notoriously difficult. But hey, Carca's back, and that's what matters, right?

Have a lovely weekend, readers, and I hope to post another chapter soon!

XXX

-PC