"All dwarfs are by nature dutiful, serious,
literate, obedient and thoughtful people
whose only minor failing is a tendency,
after one drink, to rush at enemies screaming
"Arrrrrrgh!" and axing their legs off at the knee."

― Terry Pratchett, Guards! Guards!

22. An Old Man, Hooded and Cloaked

Nobody moved. The only sounds were the ever-present murmur of the grass billowing in the wind, the occasional snort and stomp from the horses and clink of the men's chainmail.

Looking at the three, Kat suddenly got furious. Who was this man who dared threaten her friends? Marshal or no (whatever that was), she had had enough of him.

"Meow!" she said sternly, standing in the middle between bow, axe and sword.

Éomer's eyebrows rose in surprise, though he did not lower his sword. Then he spat on the ground as if to avert evil. "You brought the witch's cat with you?"

While Kat hissed in annoyance, Gimli yelled: "Galadriel's a fine Lady! She's not a witch! Get that into your thick head, horseboy!"

"You stay away from the cat!" growled Legolas. "If you spit near her again I shall–"

"Stop!" said Aragorn soothingly. "All of you – calm down."

Easy for you to say, who's not been insulted, Kat muttered. She rubbed herself against Legolas' leg, grateful for his support.

Indeed, he agreed. He had lowered his bow, but kept an arrow nocked.

Everyone relaxed slightly, and a lengthy exchange followed where Aragorn and Éomer made sure the other was not allied with neither Saruman, nor Mordor.

"Who are you then? Who do you serve?" asked Éomer when that was settled.

"I serve no man," Aragorn exclaimed. Always one for drama, he drew his own sword. "Elendil! I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, called Elessar, the Elfstone. I am Dúnadan, and the heir of Isildur, son of Elendil of Gondor. I carry the sword that was broken. Will you aid me, or be my enemy? Decide fast!"

Éomer blanched visibly and his bold stance faltered. He murmured, almost to himself, about dreams and legends coming to life. Why had Aragorn come here?

Aragorn evaded the question and asked about the orcs they had been chasing. Did Éomer know anything about them? Had he seen their friends?

"The orcs are dead," said Éomer grimly.

"And our friends?" Aragorn measured with his hands to indicate the hobbits' small stature. "They would be small. Only children to your eyes."

The other shook his head sadly. "We found only orcs." He pointed at a trail of smoke in the distance – they had piled and burned the corpses there.

Gimli did not like that answer and tried to describe the hobbits better, but by now the riders were growing restless. They had to ride onwards soon, but first Éomer insisted on knowing more about their quest.

Without going into detail, Aragorn described how their Fellowship had been formed in Rivendell a few months ago with Gandalf as their leader.

"Gandalf Greyhame!" Éomer exclaimed, and added that the wizard had used to be liked in Rohan, but not anymore. Last summer he passed through and warned Théoden that Saruman had turned evil, but the king refused to listen. So Gandalf had left in anger, taking the horse Shadowfax with him – the chief of the famous Meara breed, which normally only the king was allowed to ride. Last week the Meara finally returned; wild and dangerous, not allowing any man near him.

Aragorn gravely replied that Gandalf would ride no more; he had fallen in Moria.

Éomer looked sad to hear the news, and said that unlike the king, he had had no argument with the wizard.

They talked a bit more, and learned from Éomer that trouble was stirring in Rohan. Sauron had been stealing horses – only black ones; he seemed to be quite a cliché villain – and Saruman had recruited an army of orcs, warg riders and evil men. His crebain birds and other spies were everywhere, and he was said to move about in person too, disguised as an old man, hooded and cloaked.

Éomer wanted Aragorn to come back with him to Edoras, the capital. He had lost several men in the fight with the orcs, and they could use another sword – and Gimli's axe and Legolas' bow too, for that matter. He did not mention Kat; perhaps he did not think her claws could be useful.

Aragorn politely turned the invitation down. He still had good hope to find his friends, for thanks to the brooch he found the other day, he knew they had been alive during the run across the grasslands. Perhaps they had escaped into the forest? In their cloaks, they would have been invisible to the horsemen.

He sounded so optimistic that Kat believed him, and suddenly felt hopeful.

Éomer was more sceptical; he had seen no trace of any hobbits, and it was against the king's law for strangers to roam freely around here. He had no time to go with them to search the field of battle.

When Aragorn stubbornly insisted he would never abandon his quest, Éomer finally relented, and even decided to lend them horses to speed their way. His only appeal was that they returned the steeds to the king's house in Edoras afterwards.

Apparently the Rohirrim rarely lent their horses, and now Éomer's men murmured among each other, looking rather displeased. One said it would have been alright if it were only Aragorn, a Gondorian lord, but to give a horse to a dwarf? Unheard of.

"Don't fret; no one will hear about it," Gimli retorted, his broad forehead furrowing. "I'd rather walk than sit on one of those giants."

"You have to, or you will delay us," said Aragorn flatly.

Legolas kindly offered his friend to ride behind him; that way, the dwarf would not need to borrow a horse at all.

What about me? Kat gave the beasts a suspicious glance.

I will carry you, of course. I doubt they will enjoy your claws digging into their backs – I should know. He smirked.

Aragorn was given a tall, iron gray stallion called Hasufel, and Legolas a smaller, silvery one called Arod. Legolas asked the men to take off the saddle and bridle, and with his usual grace leaped onto its bare back. To the Rohirrim's surprise, it did not flinch, and obeyed him willingly.

What did you say to the horse? Kat asked.

I bribed him with a promise of lembas when we arrive.

How prosaic. I thought you told him about our noble quest, and appealed to his charity. She shook her head, and jumped up on Legolas' foot, from where she climbed into his lap.

When Éomer saw Kat behave so un-catlike, he seemed on the verge of commenting about witchcraft again, but Legolas' frown made him change his mind. Instead he ordered one of his men to lift Gimli to sit behind the elf.

"Mahal protect me," muttered the poor dwarf, swallowing hard when he looked down. Then he grabbed Legolas tightly around his waist. "Don't you dare fall off and drag me with you, lad!" The last was said in a terrified hiss.

"Of course not," huffed Legolas.

"Farewell, and may you find what you seek!" exclaimed Éomer in a dramatic voice, quite on par with Aragorn's. "Return with what speed you may, and let our swords hereafter shine together!"

"I will come." Aragorn bowed.

"Me too," said Gimli sternly. "I need to teach you some manners – such as how to speak properly of the Lady Galadriel."

/\_,._.,
( ᵔ ᴥ ᵔ )

The battlegrounds were not far away, and the horses galloped there swiftly. Gimli seemed near panic the whole time, but Legolas sat like glued onto Arod's back.

I'm impressed with your leg muscles. Kat looked at them appreciatively. Do all elves ride like this?

Nay. Not all of us can speak with animals, and some prefer saddles for other reasons. My father, for example, claims riding bareback is barbaric and that it ruins his clothes.

I'm in team Dad. Horses stink! Though, admittedly, in this cat form I can't really tell good or bad smells apart.

"Good boy. You smell lovely!" Legolas patted the stallion's shiny neck soothingly. Be thankful Arod cannot understand you, or he'd throw you off for that insult.

You'd never bail on your best friend, though, thought Kat with false casualness, subtly trying to deduce how close he considered their friendship to be.

Of course not. Legolas' wide smile gave her butterflies.

He had not disputed her claim; did that mean they were best friends? Or did he just not want to embarrass her? Kat wished she could read all his thoughts and not just the ones he sent to her consciously.

In the late afternoon, the four arrived at the smoking embers; all that remained of the large orc host. Éomer's men had skewered a grisly orc head on a spear and stuck it in the ground beside the pyre as a warning, and where they had buried their own fallen comrades, a forest of spears protruded from a fresh mound like needles in a pin cushion.

Aragorn dismounted and began to search the area carefully while Kat tried her best to sniff the ground.

Neither of them had any success. The turf was a mess, trampled and torn, and if there were other tracks they were completely hidden. In addition, darkness was falling and it grew increasingly harder for Aragorn to see anything. Similarly, there was a jumble of scents bombarding Kat's nose; orcs, horses, humans, burned flesh, entrails and blood. In all that, it was impossible to discern whether the hobbits had been there.

Had they run into the forest? If so, should the Four Hunters search for them there? Fangorn was rumored to be very old, and very dangerous, and had secrets neither of them knew about. Legolas had heard ents used to live there; a kind of tree-like creatures, but if any still remained he did not know.

They postponed deciding until morning. Gimli made a small fire under the eaves of a chestnut, and Legolas claimed the tree enjoyed the warmth too. Perhaps it did; it looked almost as if it bent its branches towards the flames – which, Kat reflected, was extremely stupid of it. Shouldn't a tree avoid fire like the plague?

Gimli took the first watch that night, while Aragorn and Legolas stretched out on their backs in the grass.

Kat rolled herself up on Legolas' flat stomach. He was gazing unblinkingly at the stars, relaxed and calm; devoid of that urgency which had kept him on edge the past days. It seemed he shared Aragorn's confidence that the hobbits lived.

This is your lucky day; first you made a horse friend and then met a sentient tree, and tomorrow you'll get to explore an old forest.

And I have a charming little Kitty to cuddle with.

Ha-ha, very funny.

Elvish humor is probably too sophisticated for humans.

Sophisticated? Pfft!

Legolas' lips twitched but he made no reply. Looking at his mock serene face, Kat's chest filled with a flood of warmth. She loved him so much, especially when he was playful and teasing like now. She knew it was one-sided and would remain so unless she got her own body back – and even then, it was not likely he would fall for someone like her – but for now, it was enough to be his friend, and enjoy being close, feeling his warm form under her.

The night grew darker. By the fire Gimli toyed with his axe, casting suspicious glances at the ominous wall of the forest not far away. Aragorn's breathing had grown even, and Legolas was almost asleep too; his eyes half open and unseeing, lost among the stars. All was calm.

Kat remained awake, not tired tonight either. She was thinking about Gollum. For so long he had followed them, and every now and then she had noticed it; in Moria, in Lothlórien, and lastly on the Anduin. But it struck her now that ever since they left the river, she had neither heard nor seen anything of him. What if the creature had lost their tracks? Or – and this was what really terrified her – what if the orcs had killed him? If so, her mission had failed, and poor Aragorn's future children would die.

Yet, Kat was still here in Middle-earth. Wouldn't Mr Pretty Voice have whisked her back to his Halls and sent her somewhere else if Gollum had died?

Kat strained her ear for sounds of footsteps, but heard nothing but the wind in the grass and the dry leaves of the chestnut rustling. Sighing, she decided to ask Aragorn in the morning if he had noticed anything.

A sudden movement at the edge of Kat's vision made her turn her head. A shape had appeared in the circle of firelight; a bent old man wearing a cloak and a pointy hat. Something was terribly wrong about the apparition. It cast no shadow, and there was a familiar smell – fireworks! Just like the strange wargs in Hollin!

Kat's fur rose and a low growl formed in her throat. Nearby she heard the horses break loose of their bonds and bolt.

Gimli drew a sharp breath when he discovered the man as well, and Aragorn and Legolas quickly came to their feet.

"Father, what can we do for you?" said Aragorn politely, albeit a bit breathlessly, and added an invitation for the man to warm himself by the fire.

Kat wanted to yell that it was no real man and he must watch out, but of course he would not be able to understand her. And before she could do anything else, the ghost disappeared as suddenly as it had come.

Now Legolas discovered that the horses had run away; he could hear them far in the distance, neighing – though, he did not think they sounded frightened. Rather like they had met an old friend.

"Oh well. We started on our feet, and we still have those," said Aragorn plaintively.

"Feet," muttered Gimli, tiredly sinking down by the fire again.

Legolas laughed at the dwarf's sour face, and reminded him that only a few hours ago, he had refused to sit on a horse. "You will make a rider yet."

"I shan't have the chance without horses," retorted the other glumly. Then, after a while he added: "I think it was Saruman we saw." He repeated Éomer's words about how the white wizard sneaked around, hooded and cloaked.

"He had a hat, not a hood," said Aragorn.

I agree with Gimli that it was Saruman. Kat described the strange, sulphuric smell she had felt both from the man and from the wargs that time. Both were made with Saruman's magic, don't you think?

After Legolas had conveyed her words, Aragorn nodded. "You are probably right, but as there is not much we can do about it, we might as well get some more rest. I can take the next watch."

None of them slept well, and Kat hardly anything at all. Every flickering shadow and every sound made her snap to attention, but the old man did not return, and neither did the horses.

/\_,._.,
( o _ o )

In the morning they resumed their searching, crawling in gradually wider circles from the pyre. Some way between the battle area and the forest, Aragorn at last gave an eager cry, and held up a dry leaf. "A mallorn leaf! And there are lembas crumbs on it."

Kat hurried over and sniffed the ground excitedly. Merry and Pippin! They were both here!

"And here are the ropes they were tied with," said Aragorn.

"And the knife that cut them loose." Gimli picked up a short, cruel looking dagger. "Ugh! Orcish." He dropped it with disgust.

Looking at the clues before them, they tried to puzzle out what had happened. Why would the hobbits have stayed here to munch lembas with battle raging nearby? Of course, stopping to eat at an inconvenient time was a very hobbit thing to do, but still...

It was Aragorn who figured it out. Indicating a puddle of blood and hoof marks, he said Merry and Pippin must have been carried to this spot and dropped there, and then their captor had been killed by one of Éomer's men. But the hobbits had remained unseen in their elvish cloaks. They could not know the Rohirrim were friendly, and so they used the orc's dagger to cut themselves free of their bonds, ate some lembas to keep their hopes up while they waited for things to calm down, and then... Maybe then they ran away?

They went this way. Kat kept her nose close to the ground as she followed the faint, but clear trail.

They arrived at the edge of the forest, but there they hesitated. Ancient, gnarled trees loamed over them, their branches rustling as if whispering a warning.

"I don't like the look of Fangorn." Gimli gave the nearest tree a suspicious glare.

Legolas peered into the shadows, his face intent. "The forest is not evil," he said. "Old, and angry, but not evil."

"No need to be angry with me," huffed Gimli. "I ain't done nothing to it."

"It has suffered. Someone else hurt it, I think." Legolas took a few steps in, with the others gingerly following suit. These trees make me forget my age, he added to Kat. Travelling with you young ones always makes me feel ancient, but here... Ah. I wish I could have come in peacetime and stayed for a while. I could be happy here.

Kat looked up at the crooked branches, covered with lingering, brown autumn leaves and long tufts of lichen like fake Santa beards. I know you would. This is elf Heaven!

"Here are footprints!" called Aragorn from the edge of a small stream.

Kat joined him. Merry and Pippin again.

"But where is Frodo?" Aragorn burst out. "All the time we find traces of Merry and Pippin, but nothing of Frodo or Sam. It makes no sense. Why–" He broke off mid sentence and stared wide-eyed at the others. "The boats!"

"What boats?" Gimli scratched his beard.

"There were only three boats at the beach! The Valar help me; how stupid I have been!"

He makes absolutely no sense. We never had more than three boats.

"Don't you understand? Nellas followed us from Lothlórien by boat, and she moored hers with ours. There should have been four of them!"

A chill filled Kat as realization dawned. Frodo and Sam had not been captured at all. They must have rowed out in one of the boats, perhaps in an attempt to escape the orcs, and therefore had been left behind. And... She hissed with sudden panic. Gollum! Oh no! Gollum's not following us because he's following them! Maybe he's taken the Ring or gotten himself killed, or both! Oh, what have I done? I've totally messed up my quest!

Calm down. Kat! Calm down. Legolas' voice was soothing as he picked her up. In her distress, her bristling fur had made her grow to twice her normal size. "Aragorn, tell us. Where is Frodo? Kat worries Gollum has taken the Ring."

"Oh no!" exclaimed Aragorn, unknowingly echoing Kat's words. "She is right. He followed Frodo of course, for unlike us, Gollum realized Frodo had continued alone!"

"What?" Gimli shook his head in disbelief. "He went to Mordor alone? But why?"

"Alone, or with Sam. Probably with Sam. Yes, that loyal hobbit would never have allowed his friend to go without him." He paused, gathering his thoughts, and when he continued he sounded a little calmer. "When Boromir tried to take the Ring, Frodo must have worried it would happen again – for, if someone like Boromir could fall for its allure, then any of us might. Perhaps he figured it was safest to take away the temptation... And we had discussed earlier we would split up; that the whole Fellowship would be too conspicuous for the Eye of Sauron. So while we were searching for him, Frodo sneaked back, and Sam must have seen him and demanded to be brought along... And then they took a boat, leaving our two and Nellas' behind, and paddled to Emyn Muil without us." He rubbed his forehead tiredly. "All this time, I have worried so much about Frodo... And yet, now we are farther from him than ever, and with Gollum loose on his trail..."

I know, right! God, why didn't I realize earlier that Gollum wasn't following? Or there at the beach, why didn't I sniff the ground better? I might have picked up Frodo's scent. I should have–

Hush... Dearest Kat, don't torture yourself. Legolas hugged her close. Nobody could have known. Aloud, he added: "Frodo is resourceful and brave, he can handle Gollum, I am sure. He has Sam, and his mithril shirt and elvish sword. Remember how he stabbed that troll in Moria?"

"But what about Gollum and Kat's quest?" Again, Aragorn echoed her thoughts. "We must turn back. Oh, but Merry and Pippin! How can we abandon them? What should we do? What should Kat do? Is it now she must continue alone?"

Kat had never seen Aragorn so unhinged and irresolute before. It was frightening.

"She is precisely where she is meant to be," came a booming voice from behind.

When they swiftly turned around, an old man stood there; hooded and cloaked, wearing a wide hat over his hood.

A/N:

Oops! Perhaps Fangorn isn't so safe, after all?

On elves and riding: Early in the trilogy, Tolkien wrote that Glorfindel's horse has a diamond studded headstall and a saddle, on which the elf adjusts the stirrups for Frodo. But then later, he says about Legolas' needing no reins that 'such was the elvish way with all good beasts'. Since Tolkien contradicts himself (which he even admitted in one of his letters), I've decided it's simply a matter of different habits for different elves. Just like humans, elves are individuals and not everyone does things the same way. :)

Image Credits:

Screenshot from The Lord of the Rings movies.