Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable

Author's Note: I am well aware that Haleth is a movieverse character. I felt that he needed a story, and while I may not be right to write it no one else seems to have taken the chance. Sorry if anyone has. Please do not flame me for adding movie and book together into this story.

Haleth was sweeping up in the kitchen, and his mother Laina preparing the afternoon meal, when a shout and collective gasps wafted into the room. Haleth rushed to the window over the counter. He jumped twice in rapid succession, frustrated by his inability to see out the window. He lifted one leg to rest on the countertop, then hauled the rest of his weight up and knelt, taking advantage of the view offered by the small window.

"Mama! Mama, look. Something is happening at King Theoden's hall! I can't see..."

Laina looked up from her work cutting vegetables and sighed. "Haleth, get down from there!" she exclaimed, exasperated. She reached over and effortlessly lifted the boy down to the floor.

"Oh, can't I go and see what's happening, Mama?" Haleth begged, biting at his bottom lip.

"No, Haleth, it is not your business. What is your business is--"

"Getting the floor swept," Haleth finished with her. "I know."

"Good boy," Laina said, kissing his forehead and handing him the broom. Haleth obliged, knowing that he had only to bide his time until his father told him the whole story.

Not so very much later, Haleth and Laina were interrupted yet again. "By order of the King, the city must empty!"

"Empty?" Haleth asked his mother. His watery blue eyes had grown wide with fear, and he chewed his lip again. His already pale skin had gone even whiter. Only eleven years old, Haleth had never been outside Edoras.

"We will go to Helm's Deep," Laina told her fretful son. "Do not be afraid. Not for the first time do our people seek solace. Now help me gather what things we will bring with us."

Haleth obediently helped Laina gather apples, bread, and water. Despite his mother's brave words, Haleth was frightened. This; Edoras, the house; was his home. He had never left it. What if he didn't come back?

"Yes, son, but first I must make sure the others are gone all right. Go with your mother now, I will see you at Helm's Deep if not before."

"Goodbye, Father."

"Goodbye for now, Haleth. Give your mother my love."

"I will!" Haleth promised, and he ran off. Shortly he spoke with his mother, then he went off with a few friends. Eowyn led them, all the people of Edoras.

"He is your son?"

Hama had not seen or heard Gandalf approach. "He is."

"How old is he?" asked Gandalf. Hama knew what was meant by the question.

"He is eleven, and I hope it will not come to that."

"He looks younger..."

"I bet your father knows, Haleth," Cofen said.

"Of course he does!" Haleth exclaimed, indignant.

"Then ask him," Joshul said. Off Haleth's bloodthirsty look, he added, "We would all like to know." Joshul was only nine years old, too young to understand Haleth's anger at him. Joshul always asked whatever he was wondering, said whatever he thought. He had not meant to challenge Haleth, but Haleth had sensed a challenge, anyway.

"Well..." As with all boys, Haleth was proud. He was not willing to simply refuse to ask his father, even though he knew it would be best not to. Luckily a distraction arose.

"A scout!" The shout had come from the ridge just ahead, where a tall slender figure stood with a bow in his hand. Something lay before him, dead; it was a warg. Trouble was brewing, if wargs scouted them out. The men on horseback or on foot rushed forward as a wave of wargs approached. King Theoden turned to look at his people, most of whom had taken to shouting in fear.

"You must lead the people to Helm's Deep!" the King called to his niece.

"I can fight!" she protested, and to Haleth it looked as though she could. She sat proud in her saddle, a sword at her hip.

"No!" Theoden said.

Eowyn turned her horse. "Follow me!" she cried. "People of Edoras, follow me to the safety of Helm's Deep!" The people collected their things and followed the White Lady. Haleth turned to his friends. Joshul was scared stiff, but Cofen wasn't.

"That was so interesting! How exciting!" Cofen babbled. Haleth ignored him.

"We had best find our mamas now, they will be worried otherwise. Come, Joshul, I saw your mama walking beside my own earlier." Haleth took command of the situation, taking young Joshul's hand and leading him forward.

"Joshul!"

"Haleth!" Their mamas were indeed glad to see them, hugging and kissing them through tears. "We must go on." They did, following Lady Eowyn. "I want you to look after Joshul, all right, Haleth?"

"Yes, Mama," Haleth said with a decisive nod. He and Joshul had grown up near each other and had been friends for many years. Haleth had always looked after the younger boy, and now it was more important than ever that he did, it seemed from his mama's tone. "Is there danger ahead?"

"There well may be, my boy. There well may be."

Disclaimer: I don't own it...but I really wish I did...

Cat Eyes: Thanks! Your story is really great, by the way, no matter what nasty reviewers say. To stand up to them and write something like that /is/ a point of pride.

Smeagol: I think it's actually spelled "ominous," but maybe that's another *shudder* vocab word. If I do my job well, perhaps you will pity him, perhaps you will not. Perhaps you shall cry, but I doubt it. Anyway, thanks for reviewing, I really appreciate it *hint, hint* and here's another, but not much longer, chapter.

DreamCatcher: Thanks, Shield Maiden. As for the child's perspective, well, that's what you get with an immature writer, isn't it?

Emmithar: Thanks for giving me the right to just go ahead, it was really just a matter of time before one of us took up the lead (unfortunately it was me, for yours would have been far better). You hurt your nose, also? Ohh, a knee, ouch. That's probably worse than mine, which was a fist. Hope you're feeling better! It is ironic, much as Elijah Wood says in the movie (something about "I always dreamed I was off with you, off on one of your adventures...my own adventure turned out to be quite different") but it is a common irony, almost like how many little girls dream of being princesses, yet when you learn about them (just think Mary Tudor and Elizabeth Tudor). Anyway, thanks for reviewing and good luck with yours, as well. (by the way, I reviewed you and Carrie's story but I had to use a different pen name, so "IllegalSmugglers" is actually me. Smeagol and I share that name.)

"No one can reach us now, mama. We're safe in here," Haleth assured her, but Laina still seemed nervous. Haleth's confidence faltered. "Aren't we? Aren't we safe here, mama?"

"We will never be safer than we are here," Laina replied, and her took this as truth and was comforted. Together with Joshul and his mama, they found a place to call their own, and they sat down for a much-needed rest. Haleth chewed slowly on a piece of bread, unsure. He was unsure of how long they would be there, unsure of how his father fared, unsure of how Aioch and Cofen were. Beside him, Joshul had fallen asleep, and now he leaned against Haleth's shoulder. Haleth did not mind this overly much, but when he finally finished his bread he shook Joshul awake.

"What was that for?" Joshul asked.

"Let's have a look around," Haleth said, standing and offering a hand to Joshul, who took it. Haleth scouted the area, looking for someone to tell where they would be. "Mama," Haleth said, "Joshul and I are going to go exploring."

"All right, but stay together and keep out of trouble," Laina requested.

"We will, Mama," Haleth promised, then turning to his friend, "let's go, Joshul." Joshul slipped his hand into Haleth's, partially from fear of getting lost in a new place, and partially so they would not be separated. Haleth took this, also, in stride, not embarrassed to have Joshul hanging onto him, although the reason he had asked Joshul to accompany him was simply that he knew his mother would allow them together, but not alone, to scout out the area.

It did not take long for Haleth and Joshul to see the areas they were allowed in, staying outside almost as a rule. Haleth thought they might be able to slip into some areas restricted to them, but Joshul refused stubbornly, pulling at Haleth's hand. Luckily, before his patience wore too thin, Haleth was spotted by someone known to him. "Haleth! Haleth, Joshul!" Aioch called their names. They stopped and he ran up to them, clearly relieved. Had they been girls they might have hugged, but boys did not do things like that.

"How now, Aioch?" Joshul asked. "Are you all right?"

"I am, thank you, and you both are well?" Aioch replied in necessary formality, then he looked around and pulled them over to a rather empty corner for some privacy. "After you left, Cofen and I argued briefly about what to do. He wanted to stay and watch the battle, I wanted to find someone I knew and leave." Aioch had no mama, so for him it was a matter of finding a neighbor or a friend, a grown-up friend. "Haleth, please have you seen him? I stormed away, and I fear he may have...he might have stayed at the battle, Haleth."

"I'm sorry, Aioch. I have not seen him. Come with Joshul and I, we are exploring," he offered, in part to comfort his friend but also because with two of them they would surely manage to get Joshul into the restricted areas.

"Thank you, I will," Aioch said, and went off with them. The first thing Haleth did was suggest they sneak into the space off to the west and a bit, where the guards kept them out. "No, Haleth," Aioch said. Haleth was furious. Aioch was there to agree with him, not with Joshul! Aioch, seeing the fury, suggested, "Let us climb up onto the wall yonder, where we might watch what happens."

"Yes, yes! That is a good idea, Aioch. Please can we, Haleth? Please?" It was a bit younger than his age for Joshul to whine like that, but with his dishwater-blond hair and big grey eyes he was irresistable. Haleth nodded, and they three dashed up the steps. Haleth's chin just came up to the indentation in the wall, and he rested it snugly on the cold stone. Aioch beside him had perhaps two inches' height advantage. Haleth was gazing at the hazy figures moving towards them, wondering if they were enemies, when he heard a cry. "What is it? What's happening?" Much as he jumped, on his feet Joshul came up only high enough that half his eyes were above the rim of the wall.

"Here, Joshul," Aioch said, lifting the smaller boy so he could see.

"Our riders!" Joshul cried. The figures had come into view now, clearly and defined. Led by King Theoden, the riders approached. The city doors swung open for them, and Aioch, Haleth, and Joshul spread themselves flat on the ground, gazing down at the riders. First came King Theoden, close beside an Elf and a Dwarf, then the rest of their people.

"He's missing," Aioch said almost sadly, but not a tone as if to suggest something very close and personal.

"Who is?" Haleth asked. It was unlikely that Aioch meant someone he knew, as he had very few relatives and was often passed between them, not feeling any kinship to any of them.

"Oh, no one," Aioch muttered, "just one rider...I had been watching him. He rode with King Theoden."

"If it's no one, why do you mind that he is not here?" Joshul's question was accompanied by a great banging as the doors closed, and the ground beneath the three shook slightly.

"Well, I suppose I had admired him a little...he sat as though he had nothing to be ashamed of," Aioch mused. "But now I see how few of our men have returned from this fray." Haleth nodded gravely to his friend's words, but did not speak of what he had seen: one man, walking in, carried the body of a small child. There were many cries of women and children as they saw the men returning, and found among them brothers, fathers, and husbands.

"We should go back now," Joshul said, and there was no time to protest as one of the guards had noticed them and told them in as kindly a manner as possible to "scurry on down to their mothers."

"No, no, Aioch, it is not your fault," Haleth assured his friend, sitting up. He had seen the body, and had been prepared, at first, for this news, but he had not honestly expected it to come. Now that it did he was in shock. It had always been the four of them, friends forever, a tribe of their own. Now one was missing... "None of us could ever control Cofen when he had something in mind, he never listened. Do not blame yourself."

"But Haleth...he isn't coming back," Aioch whispered. Haleth did something then that he had never before done: he hugged his friend. Rocking Aioch back and forth gently, Haleth cried with him, pressing his face into his friend's hair. There was movement beside them; someone stirred.

"Haleth? Aioch, is that you?" a sleepy, childish voice inquired from the darkness.

Haleth looked up from Aioch's head, wiping his nose on the back of his hand, and whispered gently, "Go back to sleep, Joshul." Joshul did not listen.

"It's Cofen, isn't it?" he asked, in his child's way already knowing. Haleth nodded. His mama had been right, trouble was brewing, and this might not be the last time they felt a loss. He would have to look after Joshul, and Aioch as well. Though older, Aioch had been shaken up by Cofen's death far more than the others, and being on his own he had no one else to hold him and tell him it was all right. Haleth held out an arm, and Joshul scrambled into it.

All was quiet in the fortress. The guards stood their watch in peace, and men, women, and children slept. No one noticed three small boys, clinging to each other, in tears, swaying gently as if with the wind. And the stars shone down on them.

Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters and places are not mine. (Aioch, Cofen, Joshul, and Laina are my characters, though)

Emmithar: Ow! *rubs head* I'll put myself down as much as I want to! And if I think I'm a bad writer, then, well, then it's my choice!! Anyway, I do tend to run myself down, just ask Smeagol, she'll tell you. Ohh, that's a nasty illness. Hope you're feeling better! Yay! Little Estel! And even more yay, Little Estel torture! IllegalSmugglers was actually Smeagol's idea for a name...anyway, thank you and can't wait for yours and Carrie's new stories!

Smeagol: Vaguely... Don't want a ring. No, no, no! Ring is evil, and must be DESTROYED! Don't tempt me with evil, I fear I might not resist, and unlike you I lust not after corruption.

Starfleet Hobbit: Thanks. Yeah, Hama's pretty cool, but he has such a short role! It kinda sucks.

"We've already explored," Aioch protested as he followed after Haleth. Joshul trotted at Haleth's side.

"Not everywhere," Haleth told him. "There's got to be somewhere we haven't been yet."

"I have an idea," Joshul said. Haleth was surprised in the least, he had forgotten Joshul's sharp memory, but now he remembered.

"Lead on," Haleth said playfully. Joshul took the lead, circling about. Finally the other two declared themselves lost, but Joshul insisted that he knew where they were. They were descending a widely curving staircase-like ramp, when suddenly a rider came through. The three jumped back, plastering themselves against the wall. Aioch's eyes lit up. "It's him, isn't it?" Haleth asked. Aioch nodded.

"Come on!" Aioch said, taking Joshul's hand and pulling him after the rider. The three followed until the crowds became too thick for them, then they slipped back to Haleth's and Joshul's mamas. "He's still alive! Can you believe it?"

"Aye, tis a miracle," Joshul said.

"It truly is," Haleth agreed. "Men do not come back from the dead." Aioch's face fell, and Haleth realized just how dumb that comment had been. "He is real, Aioch! Let us watch him for a while, you will see." With that the three were off again, ducking through crowds until they were closer to the keep than they had thought they ever would come. Aioch's hands shot out and stopped Joshul and Haleth from rushing out right in front of King Theoden and the dark rider who was back from the dead.

"Get the women and children to the caves," Theoden ordered.

Haleth's breath caught in his throat, and he choked for more air. That could mean only one thing: a battle. A battle here at Helm's Deep? Could it be? It must be only a precaution, no one could penetrated the thick wall of their fortress.

"Haleth," Joshul whispered. "It's real."

"They'll take us," Joshul whispered.

"No," Haleth told him firmly. "At the very least, not you, Joshul. You are too young." While it was said that serving and even dying for one's country was a great honour, none of the boys wished to do so. They would forgo honour. "We're only children."

"Do they see it that way?" Aioch asked with a nod at the approaching guard. Joshul's mama intercepted him.

"They are only children," she cried, not about to let her son go out to battle and die. "These are no soldiers!"

"I'm sorry," the guard said. By the look in his eyes it was clear that he was indeed sorry, but that there was nothing he could do. "I can't lead you, but follow that crowd to the armory," he instructed the three. They nodded and helped each other to their feet.

Numbly they made their way into the stream of young men heading out of the caves. We are all going to die, Haleth thought grimly. It's all over. He closed his eyes lightly, and an image flashed before him of Joshul, younger than he was now, smiling, revealing the gap where his front teeth had been knocked out in a scuffle with Haleth only days before. "Not him," Haleth begged. "No." He turned, seeing that they were no longer being watched, then he shoved Joshul out of line. "Go on, back to your mama."

Joshul's jaw dropped in surprise. Disobey the King? Did Haleth dare risk his neck by sending Joshul back, to safety? "Go," Haleth repeated, tipping his head forward. Joshul nodded, tearing up, then ducked off. He was small and no one would notice him, with any luck. Haleth turned forward, not even daring to watch as if that would jinx Joshul's chances.

"Let's hurry," Aioch said, taking Haleth's hand and pulling him forward. "Then there will be no chance of us looking back." The two quickened their pace, cutting through a mass of flesh to the armory.

The armory was so packed with people the boys could not see the walls, only the gray stones of the floor. Around them, men seemed to be simply milling. Aioch and Haleth, being small and lithe, twisted and slipped through the gaps in the bodies, reaching the table of chainmail and platemail. Aioch decided to take platemail, believing it to be strongest, and Haleth took chainmail, not knowing either way.

The boys hurried out to don their mail. "This weighs a ton!" Haleth exclaimed as he pulled the mail shirt over his head. It fell to his knees. Aioch struggled with his plate armor.

"Will you help me with this?" he asked.

"I don't know how," Haleth said, yet he moved behind Aioch and fastened the mail as best he could. Both boys managed their helmets on their own, then they headed back for swords. The men hardly seemed to have moved since the last time, and the boys could not duck through with their mail on. Haleth pulled Aioch back outside, after a quarter hour of standing about. "I'll leave my mail here and you watch it, then you leave yours and I'll watch it," he suggested.

"All right," Aioch agreed. Haleth managed to get the shirt over his head, and the helmet off, and piled them both at Aioch's feet.

"Half a minute," Haleth promised, then he ducked into the armory. Without the mail, he enjoyed his returned sense of freedom, ducking through the crowds the long way, just to enjoy being free. Remembering Aioch, Haleth was forced to curb his enthusiasm and make his way to a table piled with swords. He was just leaving when he heard a shout that set all his nerves off.

"I shall die as one of them!" someone shouted.

Haleth ran back to Aioch, shaking. Realization had dawned on him: there was a good chance that every one of them would die. "What's wrong?" Aioch asked, but Haleth only shook his head. With a shrug Aioch took off, already having piled his armor by Haleth's. Haleth numbly knelt by the wall, rubbing his hand over Aioch's armor. Aioch was quicker, back in a matter of seconds, and donning his armor again. Haleth also pulled on his armor shirt, and he felt as if he was dressing for his funeral.

Haleth and Aioch moved over to a fire burning in a metal cauldron. They soaked up the warmth, each weakly trying to keep the conversation going as they both tried to keep from despairing. Debatably, they realized that to despair completely, to admit the likelihood of their doom, would destroy them, or at least their sanity.

"Give me your sword."

It was a request, from a voice Haleth had heard earlier. He could not recall where, but whoever it was, he turned to them and handed over his sword, properly as his father had shown him, tip pointing towards him. "What is your name?"

"Haleth, son of Hama, my lord," Haleth said. Looking up, he drew in a breath. It was Aioch's rider who showed no shame, and Haleth realized then that it was also the man who said he would die as one of them, one of the Rohirrim. He understood suddenly what Aioch had seen in this man, and trusted him. "The men are saying that we will not live out the night," he confided. "They say that there is no hope."

Haleth leapt back as the man stood, twisting the sword this way and that, cutting through the air with the grace of an expert swordsman. At first Haleth had been frightened that the man would accidentally skewer him, but he understood that this man knew what he was doing. Finally he stopped, halting the blade directly in front of him. "This is a good sword, Haleth, son of Hama."

The man knelt, and returned Haleth's sword. "There is always hope," he said, and Haleth believed him. With renewed courage, Haleth swallowed, and prepared to face the long hours ahead of him.