*A/N: So this is a birthday gift for my best friend, anne-lotr-hp. Happy Birthday, Annemarie! She has other LOTR stories, as well as Harry Potter stories. Check out her stories if you like!

There used to be a boy named Haleth, who was the son of Háma. He fought in the Battle of Helm's Deep at fourteen years old. This is his story.

The soldiers had sifted through the crowd thoroughly, in desperate need of more recruits for the battle. They were taking whoever looked qualified; stable boys, farmers, old men—Helm's Deep really was outnumbered.

Haleth had hidden behind his mother, frightened and nervous. He did not want to go. Poor Haleth was only fourteen, and it was already bad enough that his father had died during the Warg attack on the way to Helm's Deep from Rohan. His mother hadn't yet recovered from the shock of his death. 'If I don't make it...no, I would.' Haleth thought to himself. 'I can't put myself down like that. I have to think positive. I, Haleth, son of Háma, will survive.'

Alas, because the search had been so thorough, he was not left behind. A soldier had grabbed his arm, and roughly pushed him into the crowd of Men heading towards the armories.

"No! Haleth!" His mother screamed, reaching out towards him. "Please, spare him!"

The soldier merely pretended she was not there, and commanded, "Move! Quickly! They'll be upon us soon, boy!" Haleth was pushed again, and his mother sobbed, while hot tears ran down his cheeks.

Haleth had reached out a hand, and his mother had fiercely grabbed it, crying and sobbing. "Mother, I love you! Take care of yourself!"

"Move, boy!" Then the mother and son were separated, and Haleth was caught up with the Men, all marching toward the armories. He could still hear his mother wailing and screaming, and the sound broke his heart.

Inside the armories, it was very crowded. Men were rushing around, because the supply of armor was beginning to run low. Haleth quickly ran and was able to get himself a shield and a coat of armor, but not a helmet. He was given a sword by a dwarf who was handing them out to recruits.

As he waited outside for everything to be sorted out, he heard some men talking.

"There's no use recruiting more soldiers. We're just a delay to the defeat." The first man had said.

The second one snorted. "Mmm, it's not like they care about us anyway. It's the Deep that they care about."

"I'll just say what everyone is thinking; no one will make it. It's hopeless, we're goners."

'I'm going to die.' Haleth thought. 'No! Think positive! I WILL survive, I WILL see mother again, I will...I will...'

His eyes glanced around, and landed on the sword given to him by the dwarf. 'I could try practicing now.' He looked at the soldiers brandishing their swords, and moved his to the proper position.

"Give me your sword." Haleth had suddenly heard someone say from somewhere behind him.

He turned around, and saw a man sitting on the grey stone steps. The man had wavy-brown shoulder-length hair, jade-green eyes, and a slight mustache and beard. He was wearing all black, except for a pretty necklace that was hanging around his neck. Haleth had recalled seeing him talking to the King of Rohan before, so the man must've been important.

Haleth glanced around a bit, and the man nodded at him, confirming that Haleth was in fact the one he was addressing. Haleth walked up a few steps to him, and then handed him his sword. "What is your name?" The man asked him, eyeing the sword.

"Haleth, son of Háma, my lord." Haleth replied respectfully. Just to make some polite small talk (and to see the man's opinion), he added, "The men are saying we will not live out the night." The man glanced up. "They say that it is hopeless."

The man stared at Haleth for a moment before deciding to stand up. He swung the sword around, and then started to spin and twirl it around, showing great skill. Haleth couldn't help but stare in awe. It lifted his spirits just a bit, knowing that there were more men in the army who were just as skilled—or even more—as this man. "This is a good sword." The man commented, handing it back to Haleth. "Haleth, son of Háma...there is always hope." He rested a hand on Haleth's shoulder reassuringly, before he turned and walked away.

Shortly after, the sound of a strange horn echoed through the night. Everyone was confused—it wasn't an Orc horn. Out of curiosity, Haleth rushed to the castle's walls, and looked over to see an army of Elves. Allies! There was hope after all! The man was right! He saw the King and the man from earlier talking to an Elf. Then the man and Elf hugged, and it seemed as if it was an old reunion. Haleth hoped that both of them lived, and would be able to continue their reunion when there wasn't an army of Orcs approaching.

Then, the King called for everyone to take their positions, and Haleth somehow ended up at the frontline. Because of that, he was given a bow and a pack arrows to shoot. Everyone waited for orders.

The Men could see the Orc army in the distance; there was a great lot of them. They were the ugliest creatures Haleth had ever seen. He began to lose hope, but remembered the man's words again, "There is always hope." So he straightened his back and stuck up his chin. If he was going to die tonight, he would die protecting the race of Men!

It had started to rain, and the Orcs had stopped a couple of feet away from the castle walls. One roared, and all the others began to thump their spears and stomp their feet on the ground.

Soldiers and recruits readied their bows, so Haleth did the same. The elderly man beside him shot an arrow, and it hit its target perfectly, knocking the Orc to the ground. Seeing no one else had done anything, he quickly readied another arrow and waited.

The Orcs started roaring, shouting their battle cries as they charged at the castle wall. Then, they were commanded to fire, and so Haleth released his arrow. It bounced off of an Orc's armor helplessly, making him feel stupid. He put in another arrow, and shot, just barely piercing the hand of an Orc holding a spear. It dropped it, and roared, taking the arrow out of its hand and snapping it violently.

Someone gave a command in Elvish, and catapults' contents were fired at the Orcs, taking several down.

Then, just a few feet away, a man fell down the castle walls, being hit by an arrow. The army brandished their swords, so Haleth took his out too. Then he saw why—the Orcs had begun to put ladders up against the wall. Frightened, he backed away from the frontline, mixing in with the other soldiers. There were so many, Haleth didn't know how Men could take them all...

The Orc army was making their way to the frontline, going through all the inexperienced men quickly. They would get to him, soon. He had to hide. 'No, stop being a coward Haleth.' He told himself. 'If you're going to die today, then die fighting!'

An Orc laid its eyes upon him, and grinned as if it had found something tasty for dinner. He probably thought Haleth would be easy. Which was probably true. The Orc swung its sword at Haleth, and he swung his to defend himself.

Haleth really didn't know what to do; he was really only swinging his sword in the direction the Orc's was going so as to not get wounded by the blade. It was very difficult, the sword was heavy, and he was inexperienced.

Then, the Orc knocked his sword out of his hand to the side. Haleth stood there, paralyzed, with no weapon to defend himself.

The Orc smiled devilishly, while raising his sword. Haleth began to sweat, extremely frightened.

Then, an explosion rocked the ground, rattling the balance of several people and Orcs, also sending some people flying. Haleth fell to the ground. People around him fell too, as well as the Orc that was about to kill him.

He quickly scrambled up to his feet and grabbed his sword. Haleth saw the Orc sprawled out on the ground, groaning in pain. He lifted his sword, and stabbed the Orc through its heart. The groaning ceased.

Haleth stood there, staring at the lifeless body of the Orc. He couldn't believe what he had just done. He had killed an Orc. He had eliminated an enemy. He actually helped. But of course, Haleth had been at an advantage. But he killed an Orc. He killed a living creature. But he had also put it out of its pain and misery. He helped the Orc, and the army in a way...

Then Haleth saw a massive chunk of the castle wall gone. Orcs were infiltrating the grounds through the gigantic gap that had once used to be a concrete wall. Then he also saw the Orcs trying to ram down the doors as stable boys threw big rocks down at them.

In his distraction, Haleth hadn't noticed an Orc creep up on him. He grabbed his collar, and lifted him up into the air. "Wha's a li'l young'un like you figh'in in 'is ba'ttl?" The Orc sneered. "You's too young t' die. Bu' don' go 'round thinkin' you's an exception. There'll be no survivors t'night."

"You won't win," Haleth wheezed. "The Men will forever be victorious."

The Orc threw Haleth down onto the ground, slammed a foot onto his chest, making him lose his breath. "You thinkin' you can be smarting 'round your arse like tha'?" Haleth tried to move out from under its foot, which made it apply more pressure, crushing his ribs and making it hard for him to breathe. "You really think Men'll win t'night? Righ' now, you's at my mercy. An' I don' feel like showin' a fighter of Men no mercy."

Haleth was sweating lots, completely terrified.

For the second time in that night, an Orc raised its sword, not missing its target this time. The sword swung down, and Haleth was stabbed in his stomach.

"Don' worry, I made it so tha' you'll die fast, but still haf'ta endure th' pain." The Orc snickered, and kicked him in the ribs off to the side.

Haleth had been holding in his tears so as to not show weakness in front of the Orc. But now, he was sobbing. The pain in his stomach was extremely immense. He had failed his father. He wouldn't make it back to his mother. He only killed one enemy. He had been hardly any help at all. Haleth would die a failure.

Haleth had begun to become pale, and his breathing became more shallow. He cried his final tears, and then lay still.

Little did he know, though, that the Orc he had killed was the leader. What luck, right? Without their leader to give out orders, there was a lot of havoc and disorganization among the Orc army. Being stupid, they hadn't chosen a co-leader. This had a big impact on the turn of events. The Men army won, didn't they? Perhaps Haleth had helped more than he thought.