Part 1

It was the screams that first roused him to full wakefulness. His hand reached automatically for his bow as he sat up in his blankets, head turning to locate the origin of the screams.

It was Aragorn, who was staring in abject horror at his hands and arms, eyes wide.

"Aragorn, I am trying to rest. Please stop screaming. You sound like a girl."

Legolas sank back down to his blankets with a soft sigh and was just slipping back into that strange meditation elves used instead of mortal sleep when three thoughts popped themselves into his head, driving away all thoughts of further rest.

The first was the realization that the Ranger's screams had blossomed into near-hysterical laughter.

The second was the fact that not only did Aragorn *sound* like a girl, he also seems to have *become* one. Albeit a scruffy, athletic girl somewhat lost in the Ranger's clothes, but a girl nonetheless.

The third being that his own voice, also, had changed, becoming somewhat higher in pitch and even smoother than before.

With hands that shook, he pulled back the blankets that covered him and looked down at himself. He felt the same hysterical laughter that Aragorn now indulged in bubbling up inside him, and with only a supreme effort was he able to keep it back.

The differences weren't really very obvious at first glance, as elven males and females were both slender by nature, but a second glance would show his clothes to be a bit roomier in the shoulders, as well as tighter across the chest.

Not-quite-as-deep-as-they-should-be curses in dwarvish from Gimli's direction heralded the fact that he, too, was not quite himself either.

'Alas!' the elf thought to himself. 'We should have heeded Celeborn's warning of the strange perils of Fangorn, and not drunk of the Entwade!'

Part 2

An hour later, the hysterics were mostly at an end, though the shock had by no means worn off.

Gimli was stomping around the camp, brandishing his axe at the air, cursing in a steady stream of dwarvish the mysterious grey-clad old man that they had seen on the outskirts of their last camp at Fangorn's edge. To the Dwarf's mind, that grey stranger was probably at least partly to blame for their current condition. He'd known that man would be trouble. Anyone who left behind no footprints visible to Elf or Ranger at their passing was bound to be trouble.

It was rather difficult to tell, if one ignored the curses, that Gimli was anything other than his usual self; with his thick, partly braided beard covering his front to the waist, it was only with close scrutiny that it could be seen that he was slightly... rounder about the corners... than before.

The Ranger had been silent the last hour, once his laughter had died down, busy fixing his clothing so that nothing would fall off or slide down as he moved.

At last, Aragorn looked up at the others, finally done adjusting his clothing; he'd tightened every single lacing, buttoned every single button, and still he'd had to tighten his belt to the second-to-last hole to keep everything together. He'd even had to tie strips of cloth around the ankles and legs of his boots to improve the fit. Luckily, though, he could still wield his sword Anduril, if not quite as easily as before.

Poor Legolas had been trying to practice with his bow as Aragorn practiced with Anduril, but he couldn't quite seem to figure out how to work around the extra weight on his chest. Bound by his leather tunic, they didn't stick out much, but still managed to subtly shift his balance, and he kept missing his mark by about the width of a hand. It was the worst he'd shot in hundreds of years.

At last, though, they decided that they'd adjusted as much as they could for that morning, and that it was about time to continue their search for the missing hobbits.

Their belongings were quickly packed away and the Entwade was left behind as they began their day's trek into the depths of Fangorn.

Part 3

It was now early afternoon, and they'd been following hobbit-tracks for hours. The closeness of the wood, the sense of *age* that surrounded them was stifling and stuffy, and they found themselves somewhat short of breath as the time went on. It was with some relief, therefore, that they found that the tracks led them to Treebeard's Hill and up the rough steps to a flat shelf where they could rest in the freer air and sunlight.

As they rested, they looked around from their high vantage point, trying to see if there was any indication of where the hobbits may have gone next, as Aragorn had told them that the tracks only went up the steps, not back down again.

It was Legolas who saw him first; the old man in grey rags that they had seen before. He was walking swiftly through the wood, and the elf could see that he would reach the bottom of the steps before they could.

"Look!" the elf said to her companions, pointing. "It's that old grey-cloaked man, coming swiftly through the wood to the stair."

"Where?" asked Gimli, then he, too, saw the stranger. His face flushed an angry red as he pulled out his axe. "Let him come! My axe will get answers from him! I'll put a dent in him that he won't soon forget!"

The old man, meanwhile, had reached the stairs and started to climb.

Seeing that, the elf slowly strung her bow, but then only watched, arrow in hand, feeling a strange reluctance to attack. Aragorn also drew Anduril, though she kept it lowered unthreateningly, feeling the same reluctance as the elf.

They saw a flash of white robes from beneath the shabby grey cloak, and readied their weapons despite their lethargy, as the only old man that they knew of who wore white robes and walked with a tall staff was the wizard, Saruman.

Still, they didn't attack.

The stranger finally reached the shelf where they stood armed and waiting. He lifted his face to them as he leaned on his staff and studied each in turn from under thick, bushy brows. He frowned.

The three stared at him with shocked recognition, weapons falling to the ground from suddenly limp hands, arms hanging loose at their sides, unable to fully grasp the reality of what they were seeing, let alone form the words to say it.

"I'm sorry, ladies," the old man said. "But I was supposed to meet three friends here, and it seems they're not... Legolas? Is that you? Gimli? Aragorn?" The old man's mouth twitched, looking suspiciously like a barely restrained smlie, his eyes twinkled with suppressed laughter. "What have you gotten yourselves into this time?"

"Mithrandir!" Legolas was the first to regain the power of speech, and called out his friend's Elven name, a smile on his face.

"Well met," agreed the other.

"Gandalf?" Aragorn exclaimed. "But you fell into shadow - in Moria! The Balrog-"

"Yes, I fell, and climbed, and through many hardships I am here again. Now, how is it that you've all become female?"

Aragorn quickly told the tale, beginning with the Fellowship's escape from Moria.

When he was done, Gandalf looked at them and shook his head. "Didn't Celeborn or Galadriel warn you of Fangorn? Well, there's naught we can do about this now. Now, we must be leaving for Edoras in Rohan to meet with king Theoden-"

"But what of the hobbits, Merry and Pippin?" asked the dwarf. "We've come too far after them to abandon the chase now!"

"They are safe with Treebeard the Ent. They met him here two days ago and went with him to his Enthouse. They are not now in danger, and are no longer our concern. Don't worry, for we shall see them again before the end, I suspect. Be patient. Shall we go now?"

The three nodded and walked down the stairs, Legolas first, then Gimli, Aragorn, and Gandalf last.

Aragorn made a small hop of surprise just before starting down, feeling a hand collide with her rear. She looked behind her, but Gandalf wore an expression of blank innocence, though the mouth-twitch and eye-twinkle were even worse than before. Shaking her head, Aragorn followed her companions down the stair, then straight out of Fangorn, where they were reunighted with their strayed horses.

And so with Gandalf upon Shadowfax, Aragorn upon Hasufel, and Legolas and Gimli once again sharing Arod, they rode with all haste to Edoras.

Part 4

They arrived at Edoras, the capital city of Rohan, in the early morning two days later, and rode up to gates guarded by many spear- and sword-wielding mail-clad Riders of Rohan.

Upon seeing the four, mounted upon what were quite obviously horses of Rohan, the guards frowned, coming to the only conclusion that made sense to them.

Before Aragorn or Gandalf could call out a greeting, the Riders closed in on the three females, wisely avoiding the wizard. The three were unceremoniously hauled off Hasufel and Arod, then relieved of their weapons and hustled within the walls of the city, then over to a stout stone building that stood midway between the city gates and the hall of King Theoden, Meduseld. As they were walked there, struggling the whole of the way, they were informed that they were being imprisoned for horse-theft and would be held in prison until such time as King Theoden passed judgement upon them.

The three tried to explain the situation, tried to explain that they were but returning the horses leant to them by Eomer, but the guards acted deaf and dumb and refused to listen.

Gandalf had followed closely behind and assured them, as they were being pulled inside the dimly-lit prison-building, that he would see them released after he spoke with Theoden.

"Gandalf!" Aragorn shouted angrily, clinging stubbornly to the doorframe even as three guards tried to pry her loose. "Gandalf, don't leave us here! Gandalf! I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Isildur's heir of Gondor! I will not be falsely locked up for horse-theft! Gandalf!"

The three guards shared a smirking glance that sared the thought as easily as if it had been spoken aloud. *The girl's obviously insane. She thinks she's a man!*

Finally, they managed to pry the Ranger free of the doorframe, though she left long scratches behind on it that showed show her determination. They carried her, twisting and kicking, to the rows of cells where Legolas and Gimli were already locked up, each in their own cell. The guards opened a cell's thick wooden door, shoved Aragorn in, then quickly slammed the door and bolted it securely. Then they left.

"Legolas? Gimli?" Aragorn called, moving to stand at the door of her cell. The door was perhaps four inches thick, and had a space cut into it at head-level and set with vertical bars. She peered out of her cell and called again. "Legolas? Gimli?"

Legolas appeared in a cell across the hallway, looking out of the barred space on her own door at Aragorn. "I'm here," she said simply.

A hand waved in the cell beside the Elf's, and Gimli's disgusted voice was heard. "I'm here, as well. Damned windows built for humans."

"I see you," Aragorn said. The hand stopped waving, disappeared. "So, what do you think about our little predicament here?"

"I think that you going around yelling 'I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn' isn't exactly helping right now, my friend," the dwarf said bluntly.

"Much as it pains me," Legolas said, "I must agree with the dwarf. The situation is volatile enough without the Riders thinking you insane."

"Oh. Well, I was angry." A slight pause. "I'm sorry."

The three friends were quiet for a space as they thought of their situation and hoped Gandalf would hurry to get them out.

"Well," Aragorn said at last. "Eomer knows we didn't steal Hasufel and Arod. He would know that we were just returning them, as promised. He can speak for us."

"I would," came Eomer's voice from the cell beside Aragorn's, "but I've been falsely accused of treason and my word just now would likely do your cause more harm than good. Besides, the only voice that King Theoden listens to of late belongs to Grima Wormtongue."

Aragorn groaned. Even Legolas looked somewhat grim.

"It seems Gandalf might be a while, my friends," Aragorn said at last. "We may as well get comfortable." With a last nod across the hall to Legolas, Aragorn moved further into her cell. She sat down on the crude straw mattress to wait.

In their cells, Legolas, Gimli and Eomer did the same.

Part 5

*Plink! Rattle-rattle-rattle.* Pause. *Plink! Rattle-rattle-rattle.*

It had been hours since the three had been locked up in the Rohirrim prison, and as yet nothing had happened to break the monotony of their confinement. Every now and again, one of their guards would pass by, looking into their cells via the door-windows, checking to make sure that they hadn't escaped, then he left again.

*Plink! Rattle-rattle-rattle.* Pause. *Plink! Rattle-rattle-rattle.*

They sat in their dimly lit cells, waiting, memorizing the cracks in the walls and ceiling, the grain of the wood of the doors. Those who had outside windows, Legolas and Gimli, looked outside now and then. There was nothing else they could do.

*Plink! Rattle-rattle-rattle.* Pause. *Plink! Rattle-rattle-rattle.*

"Aragorn, if you throw that stone against the wall one more time, I swear to you that when we get out of this mess you *will* regret it!" came Gimli's irritated voice from across the hallway in her cell. "And I have nothing to do in here but to think of ways to be creative about it!"

Legolas and Eomer quickly added their support to the dwarf's threats.

There was a stretch of unbroken silence from the Ranger's cell. It lasted for maybe five minutes.

*Plink! Rattle-rattle-rattle.* Pause. *Plink! Rattle-rattle-rattle.*

"Aragorn!" the dwarf bellowed, echoed by Eomer.

"Ssst!" came the Elf's voice from her cell. "I think something is happening. Someone just left the golden Hall and is heading this way." Legolas pressed her face up against the bars of her outside window and watched the other approach. "It is not Gandalf," she told her companions. "It is a Rider."

The four went to the doors of their cells, the three who could peered out into the hallway, even as the dwarf once again cursed the window's height. They saw the Rider come into the building, saw him speak with a guard near the door. The guard was at first startled, then led the Rider toward the cells. They passed by Aragorn and Legolas, turned away from Gimli's door, and unbolted Eomer's.

"King Theoden commands your presence," the man from the Hall said simply.

"I want my sword," Eomer said as he stepped from his cell, "to lay at our King's feet."

The Rider from the Hall nodded, and the guard scurried away to fetch the weapon.

Eomer turned and began to walk away. As he did so, his gaze fell upon the Ranger. He did a double-take so harsh he nearly fell, even as his eyes widened. Legolas, across the hallway, laughed softly at the comical sight.

"Aragorn?" Eomer asked in disbelief, going to the door of the other's cell. "Aragorn? What foul magic is this? It has been only five days since I left you and your companions with Hasufel and Arod. How did this happen since?"

Aragorn said only one single word, the only word that was needed to explain everything. "Fangorn."

"Ah!" Eomer said. "I did try to warn you it was dangerous. But even I could not have forseen this! You make for a scruffy woman, my friend. Perhaps, if you had a gown that fit..."

"Eomer!" Aragorn said, face flushed with embarrassment. "I'll not wear a gown! Though, clothes that fit would be well appreciated - once my companions and I are freed."

"Your companions," Eomer said. He turned to look now at Legolas. "And you? Did this... misfortune in Fangorn... also strike you?"

"It struck all of us," Legolas said in confirmation.

"Your sword," the newly-returned guard said, offering the sheathed blade to Eomer.

"We must go to King Theoden," the Rider from the Hall told Eomer. "For he waits in the Hall with Gandalf."

"Gandalf? Aragorn, did you not tell me he fell in battle?" Eomer asked.

"He did. He came back."

Still confused, Eomer and his escort left the prison for Meduseld.

The three settled back down in their cells to wait once more.

*Plink! Rattle-rattle-rattle.* Pause. *Plink! Rattle-rattle-rattle.*

"Aragorn!"
 

Little more than a half-hour had passed before Legolas spotted the same Rider as before once again coming to the prison, Eomer-less. "The Rider who took Eomer returns!" she told the others.

Once again, they went to their cell doors and watched. They saw the other go to the same guard as before, heard him speak.

"The three prisoners - Aragorn of Gondor, Legolas the Elf, and Gimli the Dwarf - are to be released at once and returned their weapons, by order of Theoden King."

The trio sighed in relief as they were quickly let out of the small cells, were even more relieved upon the return of their weapons.

"You are to follow me to Theoden's Hall of Meduseld, where you are to be washed and clothed and then brought to the King's table to eat," the Rider said, and led them from the prison, even as the sun at last sank below the horizon, lighting the sky with flaming orange, gold, red and purple.

Part 6

"Aragorn?" Legolas called, knocking on the door of the room that the other had been given. "Aragorn, King Theoden calls us to the board; it is time to eat." He paused. "Aragorn? Are you there?"

"I'm here," came the reply, though the door remained locked between them. The tone was everything but happy. "And here I shall stay."

"But Aragorn-" Legolas started.

"No. I am *not* going out there."

Legolas sighed. She did not know why Aragorn was being so stubborn. She herself had been happy to bathe properly for the first time since the Fellowship left Lothlorien. And she had to admit that the clothes she had been provided with *did* fit better, though now she could be mistaken for a Rider. Her own clothes were being cleaned and would be packed away with the rest of her things against the possibility that she wake up as herself again without warning.

"Legolas!" Eomer called, approaching from down the hallway. He looked her over. "The clothes are to your liking?"

"Yes," she answered simply. The shirt was of soft, fine white linen, the tunic over that was of soft, green-dyed leather as her other had been. Snug woolen leggings hugged her slender legs, and she wore her own shoes. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he said. He looked to the door they stood in front of. "Aragorn?" he asked the Elf.

"She refuses to come out," Legolas answered with a shrug.

"Ah," Eomer said. He pounded on the door. "Aragorn! Come out! It is time to be at meat! King Theoden awaits!"

"I cannot go out, Eomer," came the reply. "Not like this!"

"Aragorn, come out or I shall have to force the door."

Eomer and Legolas waited patiently for maybe five minutes, hearing Aragorn's grumbles and curses from inside. Finally, however, the door was unbolted, then opened, and the Ranger stood in the doorway, face red with humiliation, scowling fiercely at Eomer.

The Rider smiled widely at the sight, a smile that was quickly shared by the Elf.

Aragorn had been transformed. Gone was the scruffy waif look; she looked like a true Lady, and she knew it. She was dressed in a gown of deep, dark green that flowed gracefully from shoulder to ankle in the front, with a three-foot train dragging on the floor behind her. The sleeves were bell-like, with the lower edge extended until it, too, dragged on the floor. The gown was cinched at the waist by a belt of flattened gold plates that contrasted beautifully against the green. Her hair had been styled as well, into neat curls and ringlets held back from her face by a thin gold circlet.

"You do clean up well, my friend," Eomer said in satisfaction. "Don't you agree, Legolas?"

"Yes," Legolas said. She knew that if she tried to say anything more she would burst out laughing, and the Ranger looked incensed enough without that.

"I'll get you for this, Eomer," Aragorn said grimly.

"Just consider it my portion of revenge for the stone-throwing in the prison today."

They made their way to Theoden's table and took their places at it as the food was being served.

"Let us eat now," Theoden said, "for Gandalf has told me of Saruman's treachery and we ride for Isengard. We shall leave in the first grey light of dawn."

"Yes, let us eat," Gandalf said, staring straight at the flushed Aragorn.

Gimli, the Ranger noted, had been given clothes not dissimilar to those that Legolas had been given, and wore her own dwarf-made mail over it. She also noted how the dwarf nearly strangled trying to hold back laughter from the sight of the gowned Dunedan.

They ate, Theoden and Gandalf continuing and interrupted discussion, Legolas and Gimli having a conversation of their own, Eomer commenting occasionally into both conversations.

Aragorn ate in silence, making and discarding plan after plan for revenge. She still hadn't decided on one by the time the meal was over. But she knew that whatever it was she finally decided on would be *very* memorable.

She was smiling to herself as she left for her room. It gave the others the shivers.

Part 7

Aragorn was quite relieved when she returned to her room after supper to find a good set of riding-clothes laid out for her, as well as a good set of shining mail from Theoden's own armoury. At least Eomer's revenge didn't extend to forcing her to ride in a dress and sidesaddle!

Aware that they were making a very early start the next day, she quickly checked to make sure that her things were all packed and ready before taking off the fancy clothes she wore and dressing in a simple nightshirt, climbing into bed and quickly falling asleep.

****

She was awakened not long after by Legolas, who wore a similar nightshirt, covered by a velvet robe.

"Hsst! Aragorn! Awaken!" Legolas hissed, shaking the other by the shoulder.

"Mmmph?" the human asked eloquently before coming fully awake and sitting up in bed. She could see the other in the light of the moon as it poured in through the window. "Legolas?" She could see the Elf's distress clearly in the moonlight. "What's wrong?"

"Aragorn, I... I want to ask a favor of you," Legolas said hesitantly. "I wish that I could complete this Quest with you and the others, but I fear that I am dying, and-"

"Dying?" Aragorn said harshly. She grabbed ahold of the Elf by the shoulders. "What do you mean, you are dying? You were fine this evening!"

"Yes, I was. I do not know why this is happening. A short while ago, maybe a half of an hour, I was awakened by pain," Legolas said, one long-fingered hand rubbing at her abdomen. "After a little while, the pain eased slightly, but now there is blood.... Perhaps, once the Quest is finished, you could send word of me to my father in Mirkwood.... Aragorn? Aragorn, stop laughing. I am dying, and you are laughing?" Legolas frowned, hurt.

Aragorn wiped at her streaming eyes, her laughter trailing off into chuckles. "Legolas, you surprise me sometimes. Do you mean to tell me that in all your centuries of life, you have never heard of a woman's moon-cycles?" He chuckled. "You are not dying, my friend."

"No?" Legolas asked, relieved, though still upset at being laughed at. "But I am bleeding!"

"Yes," Aragorn said, grinning. "And it will continue for *days*."

"No," Legolas said, eyes wide in horror.

"Yes," came the reply. Aragorn released her hold on the Elf, then got up out of bed and pulled on a robe, cinching it at her waist. "Let's go see the Healers here. I never even though that this might happen."

"This might happen to you as well," Legolas realized. Somehow, knowing that someone else would suffer the same ordeal made the suffering and embarrassment somewhat less acute.

The floor was chill against their feet as they left the Ranger's room, then walked to the Healers', having to go outside and cross maybe twenty feet of dewy grass to get to the Healers' building.

Soon, they left to return to their rooms, each with a small bag of supplies, each with the memory of the Healer's short, terse lesson.

****

The day dawned bright and sunny, and found the Riders already many miles from the Golden Hall of Meduseld.

Gimli rode behind Eomer, speaking to him of Lothlorien and the beauty of the Lady Galadriel.

Aragorn, happily dressed in her new, fitting, men's clothing, rode at the head of the group, speaking with Theoden and Gandalf.

Legolas rode behind them, sitting her horse in silent misery. How could women bear this every month, she wondered. The memory of the sight of her own blood made her shiver, a feeling of distaste coursing through her. She'd seen her own blood before, been wounded and bandaged her own wounds. Blood had never bothered her before, but somehow this was different, more personal. Miserable.

"Legolas!" Gandalf called. "You have the keenest eyes of all here. Can you see anything away yonder toward Isengard?" He pointed.

Legolas looked in the indicated direction, shading her eyes with her hand. She could see a darkness there, with many great moving shapes in it, and it moved, flowing down from the hills. She told this to Gandalf, then retreated back into silence and misery, and kept to herself even when they pitched camp that evening.

****

The afternoon of the next day they encountered a weary horseman who had clearly seen battle. He warned them of Saruman's orcs, his Uruk-Hai, who had fought the Riders at the Fords of Isen and were even now pursuing them toward Helm's Deep.

And so Gandalf left them, riding away with all haste on an unexplained errand, even as Theoden led the rest quickly to the support of those at Helm's Deep.

Part 8

"Eomer!" Aragorn shouted as she beat at the thick, solid ironoak door. "Get back here! Eomer!" She pounded once more at the door, then turned away in disgust, stalking further into the barren stone room.

At the far end of the room was a doorway with stairs leading up. Even as the Ranger walked towards them, though, she saw the Elf Legolas coming down the stairs.

"Well, Elf?" Gimli asked.

Legolas shook her head. "Eomer has been here before, to choose this place to hold us," she said. "This guardhouse has three levels, each as empty as this one. There are archer's windows facing the inner courtyard on the second level and facing outward on the third. There was perhaps roof access at one time, but if so the way is blocked from without, for the door will not move."

"So we cannot get out until such time as someone outside unbars the first level's door and releases us?" Aragorn queried.

"That appears to be the case," the Elf agreed.

"Just wait until I get my hands on him! Just wait!" Aragorn seethed. "First the dress and now this! I always knew the Riders of Rohan do not, as a rule, let their women fight in battle with them, but this! He *knows* we are not truly women! But even so, to lock us in a guard tower!"

"Peace, my friend," Legolas implored. "There must be more reason to it than that. But for now, here is where we shall remain."

"Easy for you to say," Gimli grumbled, moving to sit with her back to one stone wall. "You can at least join in battle, even from here, because of those windows and your bow. My axe wishes to bathe in black orc-blood!"

"Anduril as well," Aragorn muttered, slumping to sit in the floor as well. "I am Isildur's Heir of Gondor. I should be fighting on the wall with the rest, not holed up here."

****

An hour passed. The three sat on the floor of the empty room, listening to the men outside preparing for battle.

Gimli looked up from her newly-sharpened axe, looked over to study her two companions.

Legolas, finally starting to become her old cheerful self again after several endless days of misery, sat oiling and polishing her bow. Apparently, the Elf wasn't quite as calm as she pretended to be, for the dwarf saw that if the Elf polished the wood any more, she wouldn't even have to shoot arrows at her enemies; the glare alone from the Sun bouncing off the gleaming wood would be enough to blind her opponents.

Aragorn, Gimli saw, had already sharpened and oiled all her blades and now sat there restlessly, her gaze flicking between her hand and a nearby stone wall. Curious, Gimli squinted at Aragorn's hand, the better to make out what she was holding, finally seeing what it was.

"Aragorn, put the stone down-"

*Plink! Rattle-rattle-rattle.* The stone hit the wall, bounced off and rolled back to the Ranger, who picked it up again.

"Aragorn!"

****

The three companions dozed only occasionally that night, and those times were light, fitful things that gave them little rest, as the sounds of battle, somewhat muted by the stone, entered their tower.

The sounds of battle grew and receded like waves on a shore as the battle first raged, then lulled, then raged once more, only to lull again, all through the night.

Dim grey dawn-light fell upon the stairs from the windows of the levels above, and the three heard the sound of the Horns of Rohan sounding the charge.

Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli hurried up to the third level of their prison and looked out over the torn battlefield through the archer's slits in the wall. They saw King Theoden leading the attack on the forces of Isengard from the front gate, even as Eomer, some distance away, led another force from out of the Deep against the foul army. Even stranger still, where before there had been only fields, now behind the Isengard army stood a strange forest clothed in impenetrable darkness that even the orcs feared to enter.

From those windows, the three companions watched as the Rohirrim decimated the opposing force, emerging victorious at long last.

****

It was nearly an hour later, though, before Eomer returned to the guardhouse and unbarred the door.

Aragorn just stood there glaring at the man, silently wondering to herself how she could *ever* hope to heap *that* much revenge on anyone, even as she promised herself that she *would* find a way.

Legolas and Gimli were quick to leave the area as the two humans faced each other, one battle-weary, the other simmering with the need for revenge. Seeing the newly-returned Gandalf speaking to Theoden, they walked that way.

"You locked us up," Aragorn growled at Eomer through gritted teeth.

Eomer nodded silently, unapologetically.

"You locked us up," Aragorn repeated.

Eomer saw a dangerous gleam in the Ranger's eyes, took a cautious step backwards. "Aragorn, I-"

"You *locked us up*," Aragorn said yet again, then sprang at the other, hands reaching for the throat.

Theoden and Gandalf, now accompanied by the Elf and dwarf, looked over at a surprised yelp to see Aragorn, hands outstretched, pursuing Eomer around the courtyard, snarling.

Theoden shook his head at their antics. He looked to Gandalf. "Will they be ready to ride with us to Isengard, do you think?"

Gandalf shook his head in exasperation. "We can only hope."

Part 9

It was nearing sunset by the time the group of riders rode out on the beginning of their journey to Isengard. In this group were Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. With them also rode King Theoden, Eomer and twenty men of his household.

They passed uneasily through the newly-appeared wood, keeping to the road. Once safely on the other side of the wood, Gandalf informed them of the distance to Isengard; fifteen leagues it was that stood between them and their destination.

They camped that night beside the bed of the strangely-empty Isen river. They were awakened late that night by the alarmed calls of the night watchmen.

The Moon was gone. Stars were shining above; but over the ground there crept a darkness blacker than the night. On both sides of the river it rolled towards them, going northward.

The darkness came to them and passed all around them. It harmed them not, though in it they could hear strange sounds and its darkness blinded their eyes so that they were unable to see. But at last the darkness had passed them by and continued with great speed on its way north.

The members turned quickly at a muffled noise nearby, fearing some evil left by the strange darkness. What they saw was sonething else entirely.

The wizard Gandalf had taken advantage of the distraction offered by the darkness and had grabbed firm hold of Aragorn. He had dipped her far enough back that she had to clutch at him to keep from falling and now he stood there, holding her, joined to her in firm, enthusiastic liplock.

The muffled noise had come from Aragorn. Eyes wide in shock, she overcame her instinct to hang on to keep herself from falling, then flailed wildly with her arms, still making muffled noises of protest as she tried to free herself of the wizard who was as firmly attached as a leech. Actually, now that she thought about it, she had removed leeches with far less trouble than she was having removing the wizard!

At last, after a loud cough from Eomer, whose throat bore bruises the size and shape of Aragorn's hands, Gandalf ended the kiss, let the Ranger stand on her own. He smiled at her, shrugged unapologetically. "In case it *was* some sort of nasty trick sent by Saruman that was meant to kill us," was all he said by was of explanation.

Aragorn just stared, dazed, gulping air into oxygen-starved lungs.

The others smirked or laughed aloud at her expression, then settled back down to attempt to resume their interrupted sleep.

All but Eomer, that was, who went over to Gandalf. "Let me know the next time you find so good an excuse," he said quietly, "for that is a trick I would not mind trying on the fair Legolas."

Gandalf nodded solemnly, then the two smiled at each other, joined in conspiracy.

****

At dawn, they resumed their journey. Hours passed by uneventfully, though now everywhere they could see that the once-thriving land bore the scars of Saruman's descent into evil. Once-fertile fields and cropland lay fallow, full of weeds and brambles, with the stumps of burned and hewn groves of trees easily visible through the growth. Mists and steams lay thick over the land. Still they rode on.

At last, Gandalf halted and beckoned to them; and they came, and saw that beyond him the mists had cleared, and a pale sunlight shone. The hour of noon had passed. They were come to the doors of Isengard.

The doors lay broken upon the ground. Broken stone lay scattered all around on the ground, for the walls and towers were torn apart and battered and rent all to pieces. Inside the broken walls, the ground sloped down in a gentle valley with the imposing tower of Orthanc standing dark and proud at its center. But now that valley was filled with filthy, steaming water and in it floated bits and pieces of wreckage. Slime now coated the bottom of the Orthanc tower where the water had risen to and then receded.

The group sat their horses and stared in amazed disbelief, for they had expected to find Saruman still strong, still a major force to be dealt with, not this obvious defeat.

It was as they sat there that they at last became aware of the two small figures lying on a heap of rubble, one seemingly asleep, the other lazily blowing bluish smoke rings.

Then the awake figure noticed them and stood hastily. He bowed low to Eomer and Theoden. "Welcome, my Lords, to Isengard!" he greeted. Then he caught a glimpse of Aragorn and all his carefully rehearsed speech fled from his mind. His head whipped around, followed quickly by the rest of him, even as his eyes grew comically wide. "Strider?" he asked in disbelief. He looked her up and down, eyes growing ever wider. He kicked his companion ungently in the side to awaken him. "Pippin, wake up! Wake up now! The King of Rohan is here, and other Riders, and Gandalf. Pippin, get up! Look at Strider!" He turned back to Aragorn, whose face was slightly flushed at the reaction. "Strider! You... you're..." a strangled laugh escaped him. "You've got..." He cupped his hands an impressively volumptuous distance from the front of his chest. "You've got..." He burst out into uncontrollable laughter, laughing even harder the redder Aragorn's face got.

Pippin was finally up. He took one look at the Ranger and joined his cousin in laughter. "Strider! You're a woman! And you've got... you've got..." he made the same gesture his cousin had. "A... chest!"

Merry had collapsed, as he had laughed so hard he couldn't breathe and was very lightheaded and in danger of passing out.

Pippin caught sight of Legolas, laughed harder. "Legolas? You, too?" He looked her over from head to toe. "Actually, you make a very nice woman." He smirked. "What happened?"

Legolas blushed faintly at the compliment.

"How is it that this didn't happen to you?" Aragorn asked the chuckling hobbit. "Surely you drank from the water in Fangorn as well."

"Yes, we did. But nothing like this happened to *us*. The Entwash was quite delicious after being forced to eat orc-food and orc-drink."

Legolas made a face, the very thought of orc-food and -drink enough to turn her stomach.

"Entwash?" Gimli asked, speaking at last. "Not the Entwade?"

"Entwade? Goodness, no! Celeborn and Galadriel said not to," Pippin said. "We -Merry and I- figured that the Entwash was safe enough to drink from where we were; it was where it ran into the river Anduin. We didn't drink from the deep-forest rivers. Treebeard gave us Ent-draught to drink instead."

"Treebeard?"

"The Ent. Oh!" he exclaimed. He turned back to Gandalf, Eomer and Theoden. "Treebeard told me to tell you that he would be at the north side of the valley should you wish to see him."

Gandalf and the Rohirrim left, picking their slow way carefully around the valley towards the north side.

Merry was still happily asphyxiating on the ground. "Strider!" he called with a giggle, "will you have my children?"

Aragorn's face reddened even more. Legolas was alarmed; surely, if any more blood went to the human's face, there would be none left in the rest of him and she would perish!

"Merry!" Pippin exclaimed with a giggle. "How could you say that? Without even going to dinner first! Besides, it was obvious that Gandalf has already marked a claim."

Aragorn looked like she either wanted to throttle the two or have the earth open up and swallow her whole.

"But where are my manners?" Pippin asked. He looked at the three. "Come and eat with us; there's plenty of food in the guard-house there. Man-food, not orc-food. It's good."

And so, reunited once more, the five made their way to the guard-house and lunch.

Part 10

Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli were served a fine meal by the two amused hobbits. Merry seemed to be
unable to stop trying to pinch Strider, and both hobbits couldn't stop chuckling throughout the
meal. Afterward, their tales were shared outside as all but the Elf happily sat on the green
grass and smoked the pipeweed the hobbits had found amongst the wreckage of the storerooms.
Legolas lay back on the grass, watching the clouds and mist pass by while the others smoked.

Once all the tales had been told, they went into the valley itself and met up once more with
Gandalf and the Riders that had ridden to Isengard with them.

Gandalf himself wanted to speak with Saruman before they left Isengard. Aragorn, Legolas, and
Gimli decided to go with him, as did King Theoden and Eomer. The rest of the Riders and the two
hobbits were to stay behind and wait at the bottom of the stairs for the group to come back down.

Before they went to visit Saruman, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli went to speak with Treebeard the
Ent. When they told him what had happened, and how, his great booming laugh echoed throughout
the ruin of the Wizard's Vale. Many minutes later, once his laughter had died down somewhat, he
told them that he would make a draught for them that would turn them back into themselves.

So great was Aragorn's relief at the fact that they would soon have a cure that when she heard
the latest of Merry's catcalls, she only smiled.

Merry nudged Pippin in the ribs with his elbow. "See?" he said. "I told you she liked me better
than Gandalf!"

Hearing that, Gandalf scowled.

Overhearing the hobbits' words, Legolas just shook her head in bemusement. She completely missed
the dismayed look on Eomer's face when he heard of the imminent cure. She also missed the way
his eyes narrowed as hastily-made plans formed in his head.

Gimli saw Eomer's reaction, saw how he hurried over to speak in hushed murmurs with Gandalf. She
also saw Gandalf cast a brief look to Aragorn before he and Eomer hurried over to speak with the
Ent.

None of that made *her* feel any better.

Ever since their transformation, she had watched as men flung themselves at the Elf and Dunadan,
with eyes gone glassy with lust. And yet not one- not a single one!- had even looked twice in
her direction. Not that she *wanted* any such attentions; she would have chased the men away
with her axe, had they dared! But the fact remained. No one had even *looked*.

These depressing thoughts were pushed from her head with the smiling return of Gandalf and Eomer,
to be replaced with another, more pressing: Those two are up to something.

It wasn't a pleasant thought.

***

The meeting with Saruman went about as well as could be expected between the forces of good and
an egocentric, power-hungry fallen Istari. Or at least, it *did* until Gandalf stepped aside
enough for him to catch sight of Aragorn and Legolas.

"How fitting!" he choked out in a sneering voice amidst peals of evil laughter. "So *this* is
why I could no longer find you with the seeing-stone!" Then he caught sight of Gimli and his
laughter cut off abruptly. He stared for a long moment, then spoke. "Long and long again it's
been since I last saw something so beautiful! Say you'll come inside and stay with me for the
rest of your life! I can picture it-"

Gimli's face got redder and redder with both embarrassment and anger as Saruman went on at length
and in great detail about such things as silks, feathers, fruits and female-beard fetishes.

"Enough!" cried Gandalf at last, seeing Gimli nearly angry enough to tear the very stones of
Orthanc asunder with her bare hands. "I think it is plain to see that she has no interest in
your offer, Saruman."

The fallen one's eyes darkened with anger at the dwarf's muttered 'aye'. "Spurn me, will you?
Then suffer! I know the Ent is making a cure for your condition, Dunadan, Elf, and dwarf! But
know this: I curse you! By my magic and power, for three consecutive days each month, at random,
the cure will be reversed and you shall be as you are now- women!"

"Saruman!" came Gandalf's interrupting shout- but too late.

A blue glow sank quickly into the three, a spell cast by Saruman.

The three stared at each other in shock. Then Argorn groaned.

"Arwen isn't going to like this," he said.