The ride here had been a long one, a tiresom one. Not to mention the shock of losing Aragorn to the warg riders. Thankfully, he had returned, bringing warnings of an army far greater than the ones that King Théoden had prepared. This was going to be a losing battle, one that very few would survive, if any at all. Of course, that was the first thought until the elves had appeared, sent by Lord Elrond of the Last Homely House.

Deeper within Helms Deep, the women and children were hidden in the caves, comforting each other and praying to their gods and begging that their husbands, fathers and sons would survive the cruel death that was to meet them. The weather outside wasn't much help. The sounds of thunder rumbled over the horizon, and the mountains and rain had threatened to spill.

King Théoden was within the large hall adjusting his own armour. Away from his people and kin to think clearly and try to think of more plans. Within the armoury stood Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli. Legolas was busy helping Aragorn readjust the armour he had managed to scavenge after the armour, swords, helmets, and whatever else to the untrained farmers, footmen, and stable boys. There was a heavy silence, no one wanted to talk.