Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it. Savvy? Sorry about that. I'm now obsessed with Pirates of the Caribbean as well as LotR.

A/N (5/25/04): I haven't updated this story in nearly a year. Sorry about the wait everyone! I really don't know why it's taken me so long.

            Remember that Legolas had told me that Gandalf had fallen to his death in Moria. So imagine my surprise when I heard Gimli cry, 'Since Gandalf's head is now sacred, let us find one that it is right to cleave!'

            In retrospect, I should have known. Mithrandir is a wizard, after all, and wizards are mighty hard to kill. Although in did only take a knife in the back to kill Saruman… but that was after Gandalf had broken his staff…

            Never mind.

            Despair began to take me, and a spell came over me. I heard voices, whispering words of death and defeat.

            The Dark Lord reigns in Mordor.

            He will not rule the world!

            Give up the Ring.

            I have no Ring!

            The Eye sees all in Mordor.

            You cannot win! There will always be those who fight for freedom.

            The Ring must go to Mordor.

            'Orodruin in Mordor!' I shouted, breaking the spell. Yes, the Ring must go to Mount Doom.

            A few days later, I stumbled upon a line of people heading out from Edoras. I spotted Legolas among them, and Gimli, and Aragorn—even Mithrandir was there. But I could not see Froda. But of course! Froda had already left, gone to Mordor, to cast the Ring into Orodruin. And Ban would have gone with him. But what about Kali and Pippin?

            We reached our destination, Helm's Deep. Soon we were set upon by an army of Orcs, numbering perhaps ten thousand. I helped in the defense of Helm's Deep, as did Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. Mithrandir was nowhere to be seen.

            By the evening, I had realized that it was hopeless. Unless, by some miracle, help arrived, Helm's Deep would fall the next day.

            The miracle's name was Gandalf. He arrived at dawn, and with him were several Huorns. So Mithrandir had taken a trip to Fangorn.

            At this point, I could safely speak to Legolas. Before, he would have insisted that I go to the caves where it was safe. And, curse it all, I probably would have listened to him. I am not particularly fond of heights, and it had been all I could do to keep from fainting when I first looked down from the wall. In addition, I am not particularly claustrophobic, so I would not mind the caves—I say 'not particularly' because all Elves are somewhat claustrophobic.

            Now, I realize that you have been expecting a blow-by-blow account of the Battle of Helm's Deep. Forget it. If you are absolutely dying to know exactly how the battle went, you can read about it in the Red Book. As for my part in the battle, well, I had about twenty arrows in my quiver, maybe a few more, when the battle began, and I had none left when it was over—and I never miss. I also have this vague memory of swinging my sword at a group of Orcs who had somehow gotten past Gimli.

            I fought through the night, struggling against despair. In a state of half-sleep I was, everything obscured by a mist that came from a combination of exhaustion and terror. Mind you, I was not afraid of the Orcs—I was afraid of falling. As I believe I mentioned earlier, I am slightly acrophobic.

            I realized that I was fighting with my sword in one hand and a knife in the other only when I took out one Orc with a knife-thrust while using my sword to block a stab from another. My memory of it all is so hazy that I have no idea how I acquired the knife.

            So, when I finally found Legolas, I leaned my head against his shoulder and promptly fell asleep.

            'Teruwyn!' Legolas was shaking me. I lifted my head, trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes.

            'Ung?' I queried intelligently.

            'What is this? Here did you get it?' He was holding out the necklace with the ring on it. He also did not look very happy.

            Wonderful. I debated the pros and cons of fainting, but quickly dispelled the idea. 'It's a fake One Ring, of course. What did you think it was? The real one? I would never agree to bear the One Ring—I hope. Its power of corruption is too great.'

            'So what is the point of a fake One Ring?'

            'Deception. There is a web of deceit woven around it, so the Nazgûl believe that it is the true One Ring. They cannot hinder Froda while their attention is devoted to me.'

            'Did it ever occur to you that your mission is suicidal?'

            'Did it ever occur to Froda that his mission is suicidal?'

            Legolas handed me the necklace and I slipped it over my head, carefully tucking the ring inside my shirt. That being done, I collapsed in a dead faint.

Wow, it's longer than my other chapters. At least I think it is. Two pages in Word isn't too bad for this story. Considering that it's still morning (barely), and I woke up at five (no exaggeration), I can't be blamed for not wanting to come up with anything else for this story. So it's just like I wrote it a year ago, so there's not much description. Now, please review, or I'll send the Killer after you.