For context, I'm 19 and I didn't used to read at all until about a year ago...

For context, I'm 19 and I didn't used to read at all until about a year ago. I decided to read The Hobbit because I've been told how amazing Tolkien's storytelling is, and oh my, I couldn't have been more amazed.

I genuinely felt as though I was there during the riddles in the dark, and when Bilbo cleared the canopy of the trees in Mirkwood and felt the breeze on his cheeks(and in pretty much every other affair, for that matter). At times it felt realer than my actual life. Tolkien's ability to effortlessly build a world and capture your imagination in it has almost left me dumbfounded.

I will forever go on seeking the feeling Tolkien extended to me, through the mere words on pages.The Lord of the Rings here I come!

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But still the battle rages on, and there are enough troops still alive within the courtyard and along the inner wall of the Hornburg to hold out for several hours yet potentially. Our main aim after all is to defend the women and children still quartered in the Glittering Caves. Among them too is my Elvish crush who has, of her own volition, ventured to Helm's Deep after running away from Rivendell and sneaking into the detachment of Elves sent here to help defend against Saruman's large (~10,000 troops) army of Uruk-Hai. It is dark yet and I can be sure that Gandalf and Eomer are still some way away from arriving as reinforcements. So, realizing the gate is broken and will soon be overrun by Uruk-Hai, I run down the the gentle bending slope towards the two dozen or so men stationed there, which were the men I rescued from the wagon party who opted to leave Helm's Deep and were subsequently raided by wargs. I shout to them "Get back to the inner wall" and a few closest to me nod and repeat my command. Soon they are all running behind me as elves and yeomen above and to the right along the inner wall fire arrows down on the pursuing Uruk-Hai who, well-armoured as they are, are thankfully not as quick as they would otherwise be; the debris too hindering their pursuit. Along the outer wall of the castle keep are the Uruk-Hai footsoldiers and Uruk-Hai bersekers who have climbed there from the large ladders assisted by ballistas clinging to the stoneface. Thankfully I had, as part of defensive preparations, organized the blockading of the narrow bridge leading from the outer wall to the inner wall via a small guard tower. Having ordered the retreat of the few men still alive and defending the outer wall therefore, the Uruk-Hai there are now essentially stranded though victorious they may be. I and the men under my command (as per Theoden's orders) run back up the slope and witness Theoden's Rohirrim Guard forming a hasty shield wall and simply attempting to hold the surge of Uruk-Hai running up the long stairwell leading from the long wall at bay while we and some of the last elves to retreat from the long wall take our places within the courtyard. Realizing that they will soon be attacked from their left flank by Uruk-Hai charging up the slope from the gateway Hama orders his band of experienced, loyal guardsmen to fall back in orderly fashion to the inner gateway itself, which guards the courtyard immediately outside the Hornburg castle. Now this scene truly is tense, and one of the things I enjoy most in movies of any kind is seeing a small force besieged by an overwhelmingly larger force and organizing themselves meticulously and stubbornly to resist being slaughtered. This scene allows for that appreciation to be manifested. Outside the large wooden doors leading inside the Hornburg is a small elevated plateau, with a large statue on either side immediately above the small flight of stairs leading to the courtyard itself

which is somewhat semi-circular in form, with the craggy vertical rockface on the left-hand side, the inner wall curving directly in front and then, to the right, the arched gateway which leads to the slope leading to the gateway on the left and on the immediate right another arched gateway which opens onto the long, steep stairwell winding down to the long lower wall and the area behind it where the Elves had camped since their arrival and where the fiercest fighting has so far taken place. So now as I run inside I see the defences I had organized upon returning to Helm's Deep. Due to my injury (arrow wound below the front left shoulders and slash wound down the back) I was unable to construct the defences myself but the men under my command hurried around, much to the chagrin of Theoden who as I have previously explained had come to desire annihilation and saw any resistance as a risk to his being remembered as a great man unjustly treated and fated to lose due to no fault of his own. Part of these defences involved the sabotaging of the small keep on the narrow bridge separating the outer and inner walls, but here too within the courtyard I had organized the overturning of the wooden carts used to transport Rohan's citizens and their possessions to Helm's Deep. Barrels and sacks of rocks and earth are used to weigh these overturned carts down to prevent them from being simply brushed aside by the Uruk-Hai. They are over-turned to form a crescent shape at the foot of the small stairwell leading to the Hornburg's entrance. While there are still enough of us left to fight we prepare to do so in the courtyard itself, but the older yeomen and the very young defenders with no battle experience are ordered - by myself mainly - to retreat behind the barricades and fire arrows towards the gateway. Those young men who can't find a space on the overturned carts are ordered to enter the Hornburg and prepare the materials to barricade the doors when the time inevitable comes for those of us still alive to form the final retreat inside the castle itself. Meanwhile along the inner walls the yeomen archers and the Elvish archers are still firing down on the troops running upwards from the gateway towards Hama's shieldwall. But they realize soon that Hama's men will be forced into open combat, and so the majority of these archers draw their combat weapons and make their way quickly down into the courtyard to stand beside me, panting in the rain, with lightning still flaring the sky occasionally, our breath visible in the semi-darkness, ready to face the onrushing wave. The few remaining archers on the wall are standing directly above the gateway firing directly downwards at both streams of Uruk-Hai racing towards us. Finally Hama's men, despite their best efforts, are forced back so far that Uruk-Hai begin spilling around the side of the shield wall rendering it dysfunctional. I and several others cry out and rush towards the Uruk-Hai, who run towards us

with blunt heavy swords raised above their head. I have learned by now that the best way to slay these Uruk-Hai, especially those who have been granted the most advanced armour, is either to lop off their unguarded arms, legs or heads or to charge into them and plunge my sword between the different pieces of armour or into their relatively unguarded sides. But this is no time for focused combat. The onrushing black tide is so overwhelming that our charge is soon pushed back and we, from a body of Men and Elves, become a disbanded unit of individual fighters struggling against enemies surrounding us on all sides. Some are forced back towards the inner-wall, where they are bludgeons and slaughtered in isolation. I myself simply strike out in all directions, lopping off hands, plunging my sword into the bodies of Uruk-Hai without lending a thought to slaying them for good, and ducking this way and that to make sure I am not drifting far from the barricade of overturned carts. At one point I look up and see the archers above the gateway, some twenty men, and I realize that my initial suspicion that they were too cowardly to fight with us below was in fact false, and that they remained there knowing they would be cut off from a potential escape into the Hornburg itself. I look up and even though a flash of lightning illuminated the courtyard, all I see are expressionless faces of Men and Elves firing their arrows down as effectively as they are able, with no appearance of self-pity or despair. This sight encourages a new source of energy inside me and I yell out and I lop off another black Uruk-Hai arm before seeing a Rohan soldier on his back barely fending off an Uruk-Hai berseker swinging his long metal sword down upon him. I rush over and simply shove the enemy away, the Rohan soldier doesn't even stay to fight but bows down and rushes through the fray towards the barricades, which are still manned by a line of archers atop the carts and a narrow shield wall of soldiers in the passage between two of the carts. I continue to fight as best I may, though it is largely a matter of ducking and avoiding blows while identifying momentary opportunities to lash out or lunge into an enemy, while also trying my best to grab an isolated Elf or Man and tug him back towards me and instruct him to keep close to the barricades. When there are only some fifty of us still fighting outside the barricades in the courtyard, and the Uruk-Hai are closing in on all sides and simply leaping on us defenders and pinning them down as others punch their faces or bite their necks etc, I order everyone to run behind the barricades. The shield wall parts and most survivors run through and form again behind the overturned wooden carts, atop which the archers are firing down. I experience a strange sensation for a moment as the final band of defenders and I stand silently, catching our breath, sharing glances of humorous resignation and the unspoken willingness to fight to the

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death. I also know at that moment that pouring into the courtyard are countless Uruk-Hai all yearning to hack us apart for no other reason than their innate evil disposition as products of Saruman, and Sauron's, dark will. Some of the archers fall backwards and land on the stone ground as the Uruk-Hai heave horde heave against the barricade. Due to their armour they are largely unable, as orcs and goblins would otherwise be able, of clambering over the barricades. However these are powerful beasts and their collective weight is already shifting the barricades towards us and pushing them out of shape. The narrow corridor guarded by two layers of shield walls is still well-defended however and more men go over to simply lend their weight to the men in front of them. The remaining Elves have themselves gathered in a small group an in true Elvish fashion they are stoically performing some mysterious ritual of placing a hand on their breast and bowing to their friends, perhaps as a ritual form of farewell. The Rohan yeomen, mostly farmers, stablehands, smithies and the like are exhausted, and the older men with sagging eyes and greying hair stand panting and weary, gripping their spears as though without them they would collapse. If I had an option I would order them to retreat, but the truth is that every man here is needed. The younger men however who have not been ordered to prepare the barricade inside the Hornburg are still here also, some of them no older than fourteen. I see that their weapons are unstained and realize that most, despite their bravery, have yet to be involved in the fighting first-hand (having been assigned bows earlier on and assigned to the inner wall away from the melee). These boys look at me as if to silently beg that I tell them victory is close at hand, but I cannot. But then I notice one lad, himself fourteen and fifteen, who I brought back with me from the isolated town I had rode out alone to warn of Saruman's advance towards them. I recall that he is the only son of another man who I cannot see among the remaining survivors, and realize he will be the last of his line should he be slain here beside me. So I yell "Who here is not yet eighteen?" and repeat it louder while the older men look to the boys they know to be under that age, their gaze perhaps revealing a sense of jealousy also. When these young men join around me, including the young men aforementioned, I tell them to go inside and join their comrades in preparation for the last stand we will shortly be forced to make inside the Hornburg. They look at one another to see if this is a test or an invitation to admit weakness, before all running off together. I look at the face of an old man, seventy-years-old surely, and smile a close-lipped smile which he returns, placing a hand on my shoulder to communicate that he is ready for his life, a good life overall in more peaceful times, to end for the sake of defending his people. Theoden meanwhile is with Hama

.

and a handful of other well-armed royal guard. Hama is beckoning his king inside the Hornburg but Theoden, in much consternation, is looking down at the Uruk-Hai pushing towards us and forcing the narrow shield wall backwards, in a way that suggests he is both desiring to die as intended (for the aforementioned reasons) but also deeply afraid now that his death is so near at hand. Either way I have no time to overanalyze the situation nor ponder Theoden's internal conflict. I bounce on my toes, slow my breathing and briefly close my eyes face-upwards to allow the cold rain to invigorate my senses. In one moment the narrow, two-layered shield wall is forced back as one and one of the overturned carts in the barricade is overturned towards us. The archers by now have long abandoned their place upon this barricade to escape the long pikes of the Uruk-Hai who wield them. Those with arrows to spare are standing on the stairwell and atop it and loosing arrows in random directions, simply firing into the black mass which surges around us. And then we are faced with an another onrushing tide of Uruk-Hai forcing their way through and, I am horrified to witness, over the bodies of those among the shield wall who have fallen onto the ground and also trapped the men behind them, whose bodies are now pummelled by the feet of the onrushing Uruk-Hai. Without yelling a command we fifty or so overall remaining defenders begin to step backwards as one towards the stairwell, and only swipe at the lunges of the most advanced Uruk-Hai while making sure not to engage in close combat and be surrounded in an instant. Surely enough, we carry on this way up the stairwell, parrying blows and swiping aside pike thrusts and simply stabbing a charging Uruk-Hai without caring to ensure he is dead. And soon we have, again without order, backed our way into the Hornburg. Curiously however as we enter the castle's wooden door, one of which is kept closed by the young men inside and fortified already, several of Theoden's inner guard charge past us on foot towards the Uruk Hai and lash out on all sides, briefly distracting the horde, who are only too happy to surround these men and hack them to pieces and gorge on their flesh. I suddenly realize why they sacrificied themselves this way, as Theoden paces back and forth nearby rubbing his forehead with Hama standing forelorn close by him staring at the ground, and the young men tasked with barricading the door already doing so with much energy, piling a prepared stock of wooden beams, benches, and assorted heavy objects behind the doors to prevent their being easily destroyed.

I read the Hobbit as a kid and it had a big impact on me. Such an incredible sense of adventure and discovery, like you said Tolkien really brings the reader along for the journey, the path from Bilbo's cosy Hobbit hole winding out into the wide world. At first his troubles are mundane like not having his handkerchief, but the peril mounts and mounts as they go further and further into the wild, even the relatively civilised elves are part of wild and are mysterious and dangerous. It's no coincidence that the story is most mature when the group first meets men, and themes of greed and corruption appear. After the death of Smaug, avarice and politics take over, the fairy threat has been killed, and the nasty realistic threats come onto the scene. But then a calamitous threat from the fairy realm re-appears in the form of the goblin army, and the higher ideals come to the fore again. That really epitomises Tolkien, a world very relevant to our own, but a realm to itself, just like the best fairy stories.

I think it'll stay my favourite book forever.

I ended up only reading the Hobbit as an adult, and even though I loved it. I knew the book could have had far more profound affect on a uninfluenced child's mind.