"Nanny Ogg could see the future in the froth
on a beer mug. It invariably showed that she
was going to enjoy a refreshing drink which
she almost certainly was not going to pay for."

― Terry Pratchett, Maskerade

31. Women's Rights
Legolas suspiciously peered into the mug. Its contents looked much like diluted pee, and the smell was not much better – especially not as it mingled with the stench of a hall full of unwashed humans.

"A fine beverage!" Gimli emptied his mug and turned to one of the serving maids. "Another one please, my lass."

"I miss wine." Legolas took a sip and grimaced. He'd have preferred water to this, but apparently Théoden didn't serve that.

"Wine, when you can have ale? Ah, my lad, you have much to learn."

"If you like this, you should try our firewater." Yngling leaned over the table conspiratorially. At his feet the tomcat was busy devouring a plate full of chicken entrails.

"Firewater? I like the sound of that." Gimli chuckled.

"We make it with sugar beets. It's a sort of wine, but very strong. One small cup and you'll feel like you had two pints of beer." The young man's blue eyes sparkled.

"You are much too young to drink firewater." Gamling frowned. "I wish you wouldn't spend so much time with Värsting and Buse. They're a bad influence."

"Yeah, because you never drank firewater in your youth?" Yngling grinned.

"Well, I... Uh."

"There you go then."

Legolas hid his grin behind his mug.

Gimli nudged him with his elbow. "Look at that! What's Merry doing? And what's he saying? I know you can hear."

Legolas followed his gaze. At the head table, Merry had fallen on his knees and put his sword on King Théoden's lap, and the man just placed his hand on the hobbit's head. Legolas' sensitive ears were not exactly a blessing in an echoing stone hall full of Rohirrim warriors so he had done his best to zone out, but now he tried to pick out the hobbit's voice over the din.

"Merry just offered Théoden his service," he reported. "And the king says he shall be an esquire of Rohan, of the household of Meduseld."

"Ha! Fancy that. He's come up in the world, has our lad!"

After the meal, the king led everyone out to the courtyard to prepare for departure. He had sent messengers to gather all able men in Rohan, for any moment now the call could come from Gondor that their ally was needed against their common enemy, and when that happened Théoden would be ready.

When Merry came over to them, Gimli made a flourishing bow. "Welcome Meriadoc Brandybuck, esquire."

Merry smiled weakly. "I had no idea he'd do that. I just thought I should offer him my help... Not that I can do much." He stroked his short sword scabbard and sighed. "I feel kind of useless and small around all these big warriors. I wish Pippin was here." He glanced at Legolas. "And Kat."

Legolas tried to hide his surprise. Why had Merry looked at him? He couldn't know what Kat had said to him before she left. Or... could he? Had he guessed it?

"Size doesn't matter," said Gimli firmly. "You may be small, but your heart is big. You're probably braver than most 'big warriors'."

"Gimli is good proof of that," Legolas added. "I for one would not want to meet him in single combat."

Gimli chuckled. "I did beat your score, that's true."

Gamling came leading a shaggy, gray pony. "This is Stybba, your ride."

"Stybba," Merry repeated, and patted the little horse's head. 

"Don't kick his sides or pull on his mouth, mind you. He's a fine steed despite his breed, with sure feet and great balance, and will bear you swiftly across the mountains."

"We're riding over the mountains?" groaned Gimli. "I don't like horses and I'm not overly fond of heights. Why can't we take the road?"

"The king's trying to hide from the Dark Lord's spies. That flying shadow beast he sent out, you know? There are secret paths to Edoras that'll take a day or two extra, but he's got three days left till the gathering; he'll make it in time."

"Are you coming too?" asked Gimli.

"No, I'll be guarding the Hornburg with a few other old fellows." He smiled wistfully. "I wish I could, though... To see the gathering. The entire Mark riding to war, led by two kings!" Then he looked around. "But where's Aragorn?"

Gimli frowned. "I haven't seen the lad since yesterday."

"He is with Halbarad and Elrond's sons, I think. I can fetch him," Legolas offered.

"I'll go with you," said Gimli.

They had just entered the Hornburg when they met Aragorn and his companions coming the other way. Legolas' breath hitched. His friend looked terrible. An absolute wreck; pale and haggard, and with dark circles under his eyes.

"What happened?"

"I will tell you later. Come. I must speak with the king." Aragorn strode past him.

Back at the courtyard he hurried over to the king, who had now mounted and was waiting with Éomer, Merry and a few others, ready to leave. Aragorn exchanged a few words with them about their plans, and the king repeated what Legolas' already knew; he was taking secret mountain roads to where his army was mustering and would meet them there in three days.

Aragorn looked thoughtful, and said that he had neither need, nor time for stealth anymore. "I will ride east by the swiftest way, and I will take the Paths of the Dead."

"The Paths of the Dead!" Théoden shuddered and several men nearby blanched visibly.

Legolas frowned. There was that ominous-sounding place again, the road Aragorn earlier seemed so set on not taking. Why had he changed his mind?

Éomer earnestly tried to persuade Aragorn against it. He had looked forward to riding to war together, and now instead he must lose his new friend?

Looking calmer than he probably felt, Aragorn explained that his decision was made. They might still meet in battle eventually; time would tell.

With that the conversation ended, and after saying his farewells a very demure Théoden turned his horse to leave.

Merry seemed reluctant to be separated from his friends after such a short time of reunion, but he had sworn a pledge to serve the King of Rohan, and that meant he could no longer go where he wanted to.

"We shall not forget you," said Aragorn and waved to him one last time.

"Goodbye!" With tearful eyes, Merry nudged Stybba into a trot.

Legolas suddenly felt his eyes burn too. This reminded him so much of Kat and Pippin leaving the other day, and now the Fellowship was breaking even further. He knew he would not have reacted like this a few weeks ago, but now he found he couldn't stand another parting.

Hurrying to catch up with the pony, he hoarsely blurted out: "Merry. Please survive!"

Merry halted briefly. "I'll do my best. And I hope– No, I'm certain we'll meet again. That the Valar will bring us back together. All of us." He stressed the last sentence meaningfully.

"Do you have the gift of foresight like Galadriel?" Legolas tried to smile but failed.

"Don't worry." Merry touched his shoulder almost soothingly. "In that body she's got nine lives, right? She'll come back to you."

ʕll u _ u llʔ

When the riders had gone, Legolas and Gimli finally got an explanation for Aragorn's bleak appearance.

"I have looked in the stone of Orthanc, my friends."

Shocked, they stared wide-eyed at him as he described how he had voluntarily revealed himself to the enemy.

It had been an exhausting struggle. The palantír was Aragorn's birthright and only he was the lawful master of it, yet he had almost failed, for the Dark Lord's power was immense. But to Sauron's dismay Aragorn had managed to take control over it at last. In order to frighten and press his enemy, he had shown the reforged sword he carried – the same blade Sauron was once defeated with – and hoped that would cause him to make mistakes in his hurry.

That he did. His first mistake was to continue using the palantír after he lost control over it. Thanks to that Aragorn had learned of a secret weapon the enemy had prepared; something dire and deadly coming from the south. It was a threat which could wipe out Minas Tirith in only a few days.

To stop it, Aragorn must take the Paths of the Dead.

"That's a fell name," said Gimli warily. Could the living really take that road?

"The heir of Isildur may use it." Aragorn had been reminded by Elrond's sons of words spoken by the seer Malbeth many centuries ago. Gravely he recited them now; ominous verses about dead oathbreakers awakening. The oathbreakers could be called to the Stone of Erech by the heir of the one whom they had sworn the oath to. And that heir was Aragorn.

It was a very dark way he would have to take, and Legolas and Gimli should only follow if it was of their own free will. "You will find both toil and great fear, and maybe worse."

Gimli promptly assured that he would follow Aragorn anywhere, and Legolas added that he was not afraid of the dead.

"But can they fight?" asked Gimli. If not, he saw no need to disturb them.

Smiling gratefully, Aragorn said they would find out when they got there, but unless the oathbreakers agreed to fight for him they would never be free. For, he explained, they had once been men of the mountains, many centuries ago when Gondor was new. They had sworn allegiance to Isildur though they secretly worshipped Sauron, so when Isildur summoned them to battle they had not come. As punishment he had cursed them, and in consequence they could not rest until their oath was fulfilled. They had lingered – dead but sleepless – among the mountains, and there Aragorn must now go to summon them and get their help.

Raising his sword, he exclaimed dramatically: "To the Stone of Erech! I seek the Paths of the Dead. Come with me who will!"

They left the Hornburg not long afterwards, Gimli riding behind Legolas on Arod as usual, and Aragorn on his own horse Roheryn which the Dúnedain had brought. Halbarad sounded his horn to make that amazing, encouraging echo from between the cliff walls, and then they were off, taking the swiftest road to the Paths of the Dead.

ʕll * _ * llʔ

The Paths of the Dead began near Dunharrow, which was located in the mountains just south of Edoras. This was an old refuge for the Rohirrim, and it was here the warriors Théoden mustered were gathering.

The Grey Company arrived at dusk, and Lady Éowyn came out to greet them and invite them to supper. Like before she gave most of her attention to Aragorn. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes sparkled, uncomfortably reminding Legolas of Kat. Not that he had ever seen her blush, but he certainly recognized that starry gaze.

Supper was served in a low, oblong hall, quite similar to the great hall in the king's house in Edoras with its carved pillars and a huge fireplace, albeit simpler and less adorned. It smelled dusty and rather stuffy from all the dirty humans in it, but the food looked tasty and to Legolas' relief he saw several pitchers of wine among the ale barrels.

Legolas was seated together with Gimli and Elrond's sons. During the meal, he discreetly peeked at the twins, trying to discern who was who. Their identical faces, hair and braids gave him no clues, neither their unadorned clothes, but then he spotted a fine scar on one twin's thumb which the other twin lacked. Great! Now all he had to do was figure out who he was.

At the head table Aragorn was telling Éowyn of the Battle at Helm's Deep. The lady seemed mightily impressed, and also jealous that she could not have taken part. As if that was anything to envy!

When she learned that Aragorn was in a great haste, she smiled and seemed very flattered that he had come all this way to talk with her despite his hurry.

Aragorn politely crushed her hopes. Though no man would find it a waste of time to visit a fine lady like her, he had only come because Dunharrow was on the way to the Paths of the Dead.

That silenced her effectively. Her face turned impossibly white, and she looked at him with large, worried eyes during the rest of the meal.

One of Elrond's sons – the one with no scar – murmured: "She is badly afflicted."

His brother shook his head amusedly. "I know. Humans."

"Indeed. How typical."

"Then you are experienced with human... love?" Legolas tried to sound casual.

Scars smirked. "Quite. We have ridden with the Dúnedain many times, and their women–"

"Girls," No-scars interrupted. "Young girls in particular."

"Aye. Girls. They seem to easily fall in love with elves, and especially brothers like us."

"They do." He chuckled. "Double the elf impression."

"Poor things. They can take a refusal quite badly, but it passes quickly. A few moons of pining, and then they find themselves a hairy human male, marry them and produce a score of children. You know how they are."

"Aye." Legolas had seen that happen in the human town near his home. He looked at one of the shaggy Rohirrim men in the hall and tried to imagine woman-Kat in his arms. Those unwashed hands would touch her curvy body, and that scraggly beard prick her chin as he put his mouth against hers.

Legolas looked away. The vision made him feel slightly sick.

"Why are you asking?" Scars regarded him curiously.

At his words, Gimli looked up from his beer mug, with foamy froth in his beard. "He's got a lass. Well, a cat, presently. But a lass nonetheless." He burped. "Pardon me. A fine, strong ale, this."

"A cat?" Scars raised his elegant eyebrows.

Legolas frowned. Did everyone know about Kat's feelings now? Then he gave Gimli a dark glare. Even if he suspected something, he had no business telling the twins.

Gimli seemed not to notice. "Aye, a cat. A lovely cat-lass. I miss her already."

"It is a long story," said Legolas hurriedly. "I must find this drunk dwarf a bed or he will pass out. Goodnight!"

ʕll ಠ_ಠ llʔ

Their lodgings for the night were in an adjacent building; a few low bunks with straw mattresses in an otherwise empty room. Legolas had just prepared his and Gimli's bedrolls and stretched out beside his snoring friend, when he heard Aragorn's footsteps approach across the paved courtyard, and then another, lighter set of steps coming after him at a run. Legolas was fairly certain who it was.

"Aragorn! Why will you go on this deadly road?" Éowyn's voice drifted in through the half-open door, sounding sad and worried. Legolas knew he probably shouldn't listen, but it was hard to avoid when she stood so close.

"Because I must." Sighing, he explained he didn't choose this because he wanted to. If he were to follow his heart, then he would go far north to the sweet valley of Rivendell.

Éowyn was momentarily silent, perhaps trying to puzzle out his cryptic words, but then she tried another approach. "If you must go, then let me ride in your following." She was tired of hiding; she wanted danger and battle!

"Your duty is with your people."

"Duty?" Éowyn's voice rose, and became high pitched as she told him exactly how sick she was of hearing of her duty. "Am I not of the House of Eorl, a shieldmaiden and not a dry-nurse?"

Aragorn soothingly reminded her that her king had appointed her to lead his people until the war was over. If he had chosen someone else then that person too would have been obliged to remain in Rohan.

"Shall I always be left behind when the riders depart, to mind the house while they win renown, and find food and beds when they return?"

"A time may come soon when none will return." Even if those who defended their homes at that time didn't earn fame and glory for their deeds, they would be no less brave.

"All your words are but to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house," she said resentfully. "But I can ride and wield a blade and I do not fear either pain or death."

"What do you fear, lady?"

"A cage."

She sounded so dejected and bitter that Legolas felt his heart go out to her. It must feel terribly unfair to be forced to act a certain way just because you were born a woman. What if someone would say to him that he couldn't do this or that because he was an ellon?*

What was it Kat had called that? Sexism. Was Aragorn sexist?

Perhaps. But if he was, as a human he had good reasons for it. Their females were generally shorter and weaker than their males, and only few had the physical strength necessary for sword fighting and archery – and considering the rate humans reproduced, their women tended to be either pregnant or nursing most of the time anyway. Éowyn was a very unusual woman, for sure.

Then it struck him that ellith rarely were warriors either, which made less sense. They had quite similar height and strength as ellyn, and yet most ellith Legolas knew were healers, cooks, maids or seamstresses, while the ellyn were hunters, traders or blacksmiths. Nobody said that an ellon couldn't sew clothes, or that an elleth couldn't hunt. They just didn't.

There were exceptions of course, but even in Lothlórien where Galadriel was a powerful ruler known to have been a warrior in her youth, it was she and her maids who had made the lembas and the cloaks for the Fellowship, and males like Haldir and his brothers who guarded the border.

The inequality went far back. Éowyn's situation reminded Legolas of an elf-maiden who also had wanted to follow and protect the one she loved: Lúthien, the famous princess of Doriath in the First Age. Her father had forbidden it to the extent where he even imprisoned her in a tree! Would he have done that if she were his son, and it was a young woman who needed saving? Somehow, Legolas didn't think so.

How had these gender roles among the elves come to be? And could he do something to change them? He wished Kat was there so he could discuss it with her. It was a topic he knew she would have loved to explore, and maybe she had interesting examples from her own world to compare with.

While thinking, Legolas had zoned out from Aragorn's and Éowyn's conversation, but now they had raised their voices and he heard their parting words clearly.

"Stay! You have no errand to the south," said Aragorn sternly.

"Neither have those others who go with you." Her voice was trembling with emotion. "They go only because they would not be parted from you – because they love you."

When she hurried away, her feet created a rapid staccato on the paved ground.

Aragorn sighed, and after a short pause he came inside. His gaze landed on Legolas. "You heard that?" he asked in Sindarin.

Legolas replied in the same language: "It was hard to avoid."

"I think she has feelings for me." He sat on the empty bunk at Legolas' other side and put his pack down.

"Oh, really?" Legolas bit his lip to hold back a grin.

Aragorn gave him a sheepish look. "That obvious, is it?"

"Aye."

"My heart belongs to someone else. I told her that, but yet she insists."

"Firstly... If you mean just now, you did not say that very clearly. And secondly, I think there is more behind this. She fears a cage, she said. She wants adventure; to see places, and do things that matter – to ride out to war like her brother."

"She would only get herself killed."

"Perhaps. But should not that be her decision to make – her risk to take?"

"Are you saying I ought to let her follow me on the Paths of the Dead?" Aragorn's lips twitched. "Théoden would kill me. Even Éomer knows better than to follow me thither."

Legolas chuckled. "Good point. Only the very foolhardy take that road."

"Foolhardy, indeed... And I am glad to have equally foolhardy friends who come with me." He squeezed Legolas' shoulder, becoming serious again. "I am grateful for your loyalty. More than you know."

A wave of worry emanated from him; he lay close enough that Legolas felt it clearly. Was he afraid of what would come? If so, he had hidden it well until now. His face and voice betrayed nothing.

Aragorn's fear was contagious, and for the first time Legolas began to have second thoughts about the plan. What if the oathbreakers betrayed Aragorn too? They had worshipped Sauron once. There were no guarantees they wouldn't turn to him again, and perhaps attack Isildur's heir instead of helping him.

A living foe was bad enough; what hope had they to defeat an undead one?

A/N:

*) Not sure if I explained the words for male and female elves in this story yet, but 'ellon' means male elf, the plural form is 'ellyn', and an 'elleth' is a female elf, the plural form is 'ellith'. Most of you probably knew that, but I like my stories to be accessible for non-fans too. :)

About elves and equality: Tolkien writes in "the Laws and Customs among the Eldar" that they are more physically alike than humans, but then goes on to explain what roles they have despite that. According to him, ellith are more often healers, and exposure to death (as in hunting or fighting) apparently limits their ability in that department. (Sounds like an excuse to me haha, especially since both Aragorn and Elrond are healers and warriors).

Image Credits:

Art by Dakkun39 on Tumblr.