Prequel to my version of The Lord of The Rings trilogy

Helm's Deep Caves

As the women and children find refuge in the caves, their fearful whispers fill the cavernous space, echoing off the stone walls. Eowyn moves among them, her expression grave as she observes the daunting task ahead. The vastness of the caves stretches out before her, holding thousands of Rohirrim seeking shelter from the storm of war.

Tearful goodbyes punctuate the somber atmosphere as husbands bid farewell to wives, mothers cling to their children, and young siblings grasp each other's hands tightly. Even old men and boys are drafted into service, torn away from their families to face the impending battle.

"Be careful mommy and daddy" said Lily hugging her parents. "We always are" Liv replied.

Swords are distributed among the reluctant recruits, their weight a grim reminder of the perilous task that lies ahead. Aragorn examines one of the swords, his expression troubled, before tossing it away in frustration.

"Farmers, farriers, stable boys. These are no soldiers," Aragorn laments, his voice heavy with resignation.

"Most have seen too many winters," Gimli remarks solemnly, his gaze sweeping over the ragtag army assembled before them.

"Or too few," Legolas adds, a hint of bitterness in his tone. Liv's laughter rings out softly, earning her a reproachful glare from Legolas.

"Not the time, Liv," he admonishes, his voice tinged with irritation.

Aragorn nods in agreement, his spirits weighed down by the overwhelming odds they face. Yet, amidst the fear and uncertainty, the new soldiers continue to prepare, their determination flickering like a flame in the darkness.

Legolas's keen eyes sweep over the gathering, detecting the fear that lurks beneath the surface. "Look at them. They're frightened. I can see it in their eyes," he remarks, his voice filled with concern.

His words draw the attention of those around them, and Legolas's expression darkens with frustration as he realizes the truth of his observation.

"And they should be. Three hundred against ten thousand," Legolas states grimly, his voice heavy with foreboding.

Aragorn meets Legolas's gaze with steely resolve, his jaw set in determination. "They have more hope of defending themselves here than at Edoras," he asserts, his voice tinged with conviction.

But Legolas shakes his head, his frustration boiling over. "Aragorn, we are warriors. They cannot win this fight. They are going to die," he declares, his voice tinged with despair.

Aragorn's temper flares at Legolas's pessimism, his voice rising in defiance. "Then I shall die as one of them," he retorts, his words ringing out with fierce determination.

Their gaze locks for a moment, a silent battle of wills passing between them. Finally, Aragorn turns and walks away, the weight of their impending fate heavy upon his shoulders.

Liv's voice cuts through the tension, her tone filled with urgency. "Now you've done it. You better go fix it," she urges Legolas, her eyes pleading with him to mend the rift he's created.

Legolas makes to follow Aragorn, but Gimli's hand on his arm stops him. "Let him go, lad. Let him be," Gimli advises, his voice tinged with understanding.