Chapter Three: The Ridiculously Long Chapter in Which Estela Gives

the Fellowship a History Lesson and Extreme Feminism is Provoked

DISCLAIMER: This chapter was written under the influence of poptarts and watching Stardust.

Random Quote: "Through humor, you can soften some of the worst blows that life delivers. And once you find laughter, no matter how painful your situation might be, you can survive it." ~Bill Cosby

Estela loved the landscape. It was so beautiful and ethereal, as if God's lips had touched the earth and deposited luscious green hills and towering misty mountains. As they walked further into the heart of Middle Earth, the landscape merged from greenery and into rocky terrain. Sometimes Estela would find herself become so enraptured in the beauty of the scenery that without realizing it she would stop walking for a moment to stare in awe. Oddly, it was not Adonnenniel who would notice her short lived absence, as her sister was too busy talking non-stop to the hobbits, but it was always either Aragorn or Legolas.

"My Lady." Estela jumped. "Sorry, I did not mean to frighten you." It was Legolas. Of course. Only an Elf could walk up behind you without you hearing and scare the living daylights out of you.

"You have stopped walking again." He sounded both amused and exasperated. "The others are further away now. Why do you keep stopping? Are you tired?"

"I'm not tired." Estela came close to snapping at him. She disliked how he could sometimes be so patronizing. "I'm just enjoying the scenery. It's not like anything back home. At home, I live in a city. It all looks the same, the air is polluted, and it's way too crowded."

"Come," Legolas said, motioning for her to walk. "We should keep pace with the others." When Estela did not move, he lightly grabbed hold of her wrist and led her back to the group. When they returned, Adonnenniel was speaking excitedly to the hobbits.

"No! Absolutely not," she laughed. "I like it here, but there's just way too much green."

"Your sister does not seem as affected by the landscape as you are," Legolas commented to Estela.

"Yes, well, Adonnenniel is in love with the city," she said shortly. "I am not."

"Do you not wish that you were home? Certainly there must be something that you miss." Estela stared at him. She hadn't known that he would have any interest in her thoughts.

She answered honestly. "I miss my horse, Theodora." He stared at her, eyebrows arched, clearly waiting for more of a response. Estela took a deep breath, and then spoke again. "I grew up with Theodora. She's been the one constant in my life. I've been taking riding lessons since I was seven, and she was the first horse I ever owned. When I got a bit older, the owner of the farm told me I could buy her and name her if I wanted." She laughed. "I had to beg my parents for weeks, but they finally let me have her."

"Theodora is a strange name," Legolas said. Estela almost laughed. Out of all of that, that was the one thing he had noticed. Figures.

"She's named after a Byzantine Empress."

"A Byzantine Empress?" Legolas echoed. He stared probingly at her, again not content with such a simple answer. She hoped he wouldn't bombard her with questions like this constantly.

She sighed. "I suppose you want to know who she was." She looked at him again, half-hoping he would politely say no. She felt slightly uncomfortable with talking so much.

But Legolas just looked at her levelly. "When one asks a question, receiving an answer is in most cases the general idea," he pointed out, looking amused. "Though I have noticed that oftentimes humans, especially women, can be quite elusive in their thought process." His expression remained mostly unreadable, but his mouth twitched as if he were trying not to laugh. Estela refrained from snapping at him. He was being condescending again. And sexist. She thought back to that first night when they had come here. We cannot have two women coming with us into Mordor, he had said.

She glared at him, and then spoke fiercely.

"In my opinion, Theodora was one of the most amazing and influential women in history. Her husband was Justinian, the Emperor of a powerful kingdom. When tax rebellions broke out in his city, and the rebels were nearing Justinian's home, he acted like a coward. He wanted to flee the city and allow himself to give up his throne in order to escape death. But Theodora, a woman, stood up and gave an incredible speech which convinced her rather spineless husband to stand and fight. She said, 'If, now, it is your wish to save yourself, O Emperor, there is no difficulty. For we have much money, and there is the sea, here the boats. However consider whether it will not come about after you have been saved that you would gladly exchange that safety for death. For as for myself, I approve a certain ancient saying that royalty is a good burial-shroud.'"

Legolas was staring at her intently, but she barely noticed him. She was becoming enraptured in the story as she always did when talking about history, and somewhat forget his presence. Her previous annoyance with him waned until it was a mere shadow compared to her enthusiasm about the topic.

"Anyway, they stayed and fought, and won. After they won, Justinian began changing the laws to give women more rights. It was because of Theodora's determination and courage that the Byzantine Empire thrived for another one thousand years and women had more rights than ever before in history. And at that time, being a woman and having such a profound impact on the world was unheard of."

"But don't get me wrong. She had her faults, too." Estela laughed. "Before she caught Justinian's attention, she was actually a…well, one of a traveling General's multiple lady friends. She was also an actress, which for women at that time was synonymous with…ah…certain demeaning expletives. I guess that just goes to show that you can go from being, well, what she was, to becoming one of the most influential women in history."

Estela stopped talking. Everyone in the group had stopped walking and was staring at her intently. She looked at them. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing, My Lady," said Aragorn. "We are just intrigued by your tale."

"It is no tale," she said, somewhat defensively. "It actually happened."

"Wow," laughed Adonnenniel, "I never knew you could get so worked up over history. I mean, I knew you liked it and all, because you named like nearly all your horses after some weird famous person, but I never realized how much you're…passionate about it, I guess."

A minute of silence ensued, in which Estela silently prayed that they might just forget the incident. She felt suddenly shy…She barely knew these people, after all. She fell slightly behind the group, walking at her own pace. After a moment, she was joined by Legolas. Her spark of anger directed towards him had faded, and she merely rolled her eyes as he approached.

"I must apologize for my earlier rudeness," he said pointedly, sounding somewhat bashful. "I needn't have spoken to you in such an insolent manner."

"Well, you certainly don't mince words," she laughed. "I can appreciate that."

He looked at her oddly. "Umm…not mincing words is an expression," she explained. "It just means that you got right to the point and didn't sugar coat your words or make excuses. Normally when people apologize, it comes with a but. Like, I'm sorry, but I was tired and didn't mean it. Or I'm sorry, but I was stressed about something. Or sorry, but I was raised in a patriarchal society and sexism is deeply engraved in my nature."

"At the most it sounds as if you respect my apology," he commented. Estela looked up at his face. He looked slightly put out, and she suddenly felt like maybe she had been rude. After all, he wasn't used to females like herself.

"Umm…but I suppose chivalry is also a part of your society," she added tentatively. "I mean, where I come from, patriarchy is dead but so is chivalry."

"You think of me as chivalrous, then?" he asked bemusedly.

Estela started. His train of thought was so foreign to her. He seemed to extract alternate meanings from everything she said, forcing her to think in different ways.

"Hey," she said after a moment, "don't push your luck. And I have no need for chivalry. Remember? If chivalry exists then so does patriarchy." She offered him a small smile to show that she was just being playful. He returned her smile, and they walked in silence for several moments, catching up with the rest of the Fellowship. When they reached them, Estela saw that Adonnenniel was talking excitedly to the hobbits. They were talking about food.

"What precisely is a candy corn?" Pippin asked.

"It sounds unnatural," Sam commented.

Estela smirked, and contented herself for the rest of afternoon by listening to their odd conversations. It seemed as if Adonnenniel never ran out of things to talk about with the hobbits. Silences were filled quickly by her never-ending stream of talk. Or blabber as Estela tended to think of it as sometimes. After a while of listening to her sister consuming most of the conversation, Estela fell had an urge to talk to someone else. She ruled out Gandalf and Aragorn immediately, because they were leading the group and seemed intently focused on going the right way. Legolas made her nervous for some reason, and Gimli tended to assume a stony silence in her presence. So Estela tentatively approached Boromir.

"Hey," she said.

"Hello," he replied.

They walked in awkward silence for several long moments, and then Estela spoke without thinking. "You seem really depressed," she said candidly. Boromir seemed to imperceptibly flinch from her words.

"Sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to…"

"No offense taken, Lady Estela. I was simply surprised by your bluntness."

Estela laughed. "Yeah, I get that a lot. Apparently my mental filters are defective."

Boromir looked at her oddly. "You know…filters?" she said. "Kind of like coffee filters, except in your brain." He looked even more confused. Estela sighed, and tried to explain in a way he might understand it. "Like, if you're with, say, your father, then you would act differently than if you were in Faramir's company. You wouldn't say things to him that you might say to your brother."

Boromir suddenly chuckled. "You are quite right about that."

"What do you mean?" Estela asked, though she thought she may already know the answer.

"That is somewhat personal," he told her, sounding startled by her behavior.

"Sorry. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Boromir went silent for a long pause, but then to Estela's suprise he spoke. "I meant regarding my mother."

"Huh?" Estela said. She had never heard of Boromir's mother. She had assumed he had been referring to his father's favoritism of him over Faramir. "What about your mother?"

Another long silence stretched between them, in which Estela wondered if maybe he had not heard her. But then he spoke again, this time in barely a whisper.

"She died when Faramir and I were but children."

"Oh. I'm sorry," Estela said, dumbfounded. How had she not known this?

"What are you sorry for?" Boromir asked confusedly. "I will never understand why you and your sister apologize for things that are not of your fault."

"Umm…Where I come from, it's just a way of empathizing," she said.

"Empathizing?" he echoed. "Empathy embodies some degree of understanding due to a similar experience." He glanced sideways at her.

Estela sighed. "Well, it's completely different, but I guess I get what it's like to miss someone. My mother left us when we were children. We don't know where she went. My father always said she was a wandering soul, who came and left as it pleased her. Then one time she just didn't come back. But it doesn't matter," she said briskly. "It happened so long ago. Tell me more about your mother."

Boromir looked for a moment as if he were going to argue with her, but seemed to decide against it. "Her name was Finduilas, and she was a beautiful and gentle-hearted woman. Her soft qualities mirror those of Faramir, actually."

"How did she die?" Estela asked softly.

Boromir looked away. "She was unhappy in Minas Tirith, and she greatly feared the rising Shadow in Mordor. She fell ill with despair, and passed away when I was ten."

"How did your father deal with it?"

"He became grim and remote, refusing to leave the castle or converse with friends. My father never spoke of her again, and I learned as a child not to mention her in his presence. Yet when Faramir and I are alone, we oftentimes discuss her." He paused. "I think it was because of her death that he raised Faramir and I in a purely mechanical way, though never with any true affection." Boromir looked forlorn, but in a detached way. "It is not what she would have wanted."

"She would have been proud of you and Faramir, though," Estela said. "Any mother would have been. You have great courage and valor, and Faramir is kind-hearted and wise."

"How do you know so much about us?" Boromir asked.

"History book, remember?" she smiled.

"Aah, of course," he smiled back.

As they walked further into the afternoon, the sun steadily began slipping beneath the mountains. Soon, they reached a rocky formation overlooking a cliff, protruding awkwardly from the rest of the landscape.

"Why don't we stop here for the afternoon?" suggested Gandalf suddenly, to everyone's surprise. It was rare that Gandalf encouraged resting breaks. "We can have a meal and then continue walking."

After they had eaten lunch, Boromir suggested that the hobbits start learning to fight. Everyone watched them with amusement as they brandished their hobbit sized swords about, and tackled Boromir when he whacked Merry by accident.

Meanwhile, Adonnenniel sat with Gandalf. She loved talking to him. He spoke in riddles often, but she liked working them out for herself and finding meaning in his words.

Though right now she was trying to figure something out.

"So…let me get this straight. Frodo was a simple character who was content to live in his home, until he stumbled on a powerful magical object and went on an adventure with you, a clever old man."

"That is correct, in essence," Gandalf replied.

"Well, I've never been into books and stuff as much as Estela, but she did force me to read a few of her dorky books. Like Eragon. You know that you sound exactly like Brom? Who's a bit too much like Obi-Wan for my taste. You know what I mean? It's like there's no new ideas out there anymore." Adonnenniel sighed.

Gandalf looked bemused. "Child, I do not know of what you speak."

"Oh yeah, that's right," Adonnenniel realized. "Sorry about that. I just keep forgetting that you guys don't know all the stuff we do from the future." She suddenly felt sad. "I miss my home," she whispered.

"There is little need to ache for your home," Gandalf said comfortingly. "One's home is an abstract concept, something they carry with them regardless of their physical location."

Adonnenniel took a moment to process this. "So…" she mused, "You mean kind of the like the whole 'home is where the heart is' idea?"

"If you wish to phrase it so," Gandalf said, looking amused. A moment of silence fell between them.

"So," Adonnenniel said, deciding to change the topic. Profound discussions weren't her forte. "I've noticed that Aragorn's got a pretty nifty looking sword."

Aragorn heard her, and walked over to join them. He unsheated his sword. "This is Anduril, the blade that was broken. It has a long history and belongs solely to Isildur's heir."

"Oh. That's cool. You know," she said to Gandalf, "Eragon had a sword too. It's name was Brisingr and it burst into flames whenever he told it to."

Aragorn looked slightly put out. "Who is this Eragon? He very nearly shares my name."

Adonnenniel laughed. "Don't worry about it, he doesn't exist." She paused, thinking. "At least, I hope not. He was so whiny."

Aragorn arched an eyebrow at her, and then excused himself, leaving Adonnenniel to further bewilder Gandalf. He walked past where the hobbits practiced sword fighting, and then spotted Estela sitting alone.

"Do you have any skill with a weapon, My Lady?" asked Aragorn, approaching where she sat.

"Yes," she replied. "I took archery lessons for three consecutive summers, along with horseback riding. I'm actually quite proficient at it."

"Would you like if I could lend you some instruction, My Lady?" asked Legolas, walking towards them. Just then, Adonnenniel looked up from her conversation with Gandalf. Before Estela could respond to Legolas, Adonnenniel broke in.

"Okay, really? What's up with the whole 'My Lady' thing?" she said.

"It is merely a proper title for a woman whom you are not close friends or family with." Legolas said, sounding slightly affronted. Not close friends with? Estela some reason, this phrase invoked a feeling of hurt in Estela. She realized with a jolt that she would like to get to know them better, to the point where they would not address her so formally.

"Well, it's kind of strange. You should just call us by our first names. I mean, you don't call each other 'My Lord'," Adonnenniel said. Gimli laughed at this.

"Do you have an opinion on this matter?" Aragorn turned to Estela, who shrugged and looked away so they couldn't read her face.

"It does not matter," she said, getting up. "I would like to practice my archery, if you don't mind." She approached Legolas, who made no move to lend her his equipment. "I do not desire instruction, but thank you. I would just like to practice."

Slowly, as if it pained him to do so, Legolas handed her his bow and arrows. "Please be careful, these weapons could be the difference between life and death if we are confronted with battle."

"You'd better not give them to her, laddie," interjected Gimli. "She's a human girl. I doubt she can even notch an arrow." Estela ignored the anger that was sweeping over her, and skillfully notched an arrow.

"What was that, Gimli?" she said, pointing the bow precariously close to him. Aragorn laughed and Legolas smiled.

"Don't mess with her," suggested Adonnenniel. "Trust me, she knows how to use that thing."

"Prove it," grunted Gimli. "Hit that cluster of shrubbery atop the cliff over yonder," he said, pointing. It was a fair distance away.

"Alright, but let's make this interesting," said Estela. "If I hit it, you will have to stop acting like just because I'm a girl I can't do things as competently as anyone of you." Gimli just laughed.

Calmly, Estela aimed Legolas' bow, and fired. It missed its mark by a bit, hitting the side of the cliff with a dull thud. "Darn it," she muttered. "Well whatever. I haven't shot in like five months anyway." She turned around, to see them staring at her with pure shock. Apparently none of them had thought she could even get close to hitting it.

"Why so surprised?" she raised her eyebrows at them.

It was Legolas who answered. "Honestly, My Lady, we did doubt your abilities. You are human after all. And a female."

"That has nothing to do with it! And I missed anyway!" she sputtered. "Men," she muttered darkly, rolling her eyes.

Just then, Boromir and the hobbits joined them. "There is something in the sky," said Boromir, looking worried. They followed his gaze to see a dark wisp of cloud.

"Well, duh there's something in the sky," laughed Adonnenniel. "It's called a cloud."

"It's moving fast, and against the wind," exclaimed Aragorn, jumping up.

"Oh!" said Estela. "I forget the name, but they are spies for Saruman," she said loudly, suddenly remembering this scene from the movie.

"Crebain from Dunland!" shouted Legolas. "Hide!" Estela's first instinct was to look for Adonnenniel, who to her relief had hidden beneath a cluster of rocks. It's strange, she thought. She hadn't realized how much of the story was just walking. They had been walking for so long, she had forgotten that there was an actual plot and events to look out for. She would have to be more alert from now on.

"Estela!" a voice broke through her thoughts. And then arms were around her, scooping her up and then gently placing her down beneath a slope of rocks. "Stay down!" It was Legolas. They remained still, breathing as silently as possible, as the birds flew over the area. Suddenly, Estela became very aware of how close she and Legolas were. His arm was pressing down lightly on her shoulder, as if he were afraid she might stand up or do something rash.

He called me Estela, she realized suddenly. Not 'My Lady'. The thought was strangely pleasing. Too pleasing, she realized. She turned her face upwards and looked at him. Dear God, he was gorgeous. Not that she'd be interested in him personality wise, but why had she not noticed his looks before? His hair was the color of the palest and purest gold, his face striking and his features absolutely dazzling. His eyes were an intensely bright green, flecked with gray….and were looking right at her.

"What?" he asked. She gaped at him. "You were staring at me. Is something the matter?"

"No, I was just thinking about how stupid it was of me not to remember those birds. I had read about them, and for some reason I didn't recall it until they were nearly upon us. Something could have happened." She bit her bottom lip. It was a half-truth. She had been wondering that, after all, but just slightly earlier.

His face softened as he stood up, pulling her with him. "It is not your fault. And nothing bad did happen, so do not let it worry you."

Estela started. Something was missing, she realized with a jolt. She felt different. "Where are my glasses?" she asked frantically, getting back down to look for them. They were nowhere to be found.

"Shoot," she cursed. "I think they must have flown off my face when you grabbed me." Legolas looked slightly affronted.

"Sorry, My Lady." There is was again. The M word. "Though you do not require them to see far away, am I correct?" She nodded. "Then do not be too distraught. It fares your face better to not wear them."

Was that a compliment? Estela thought. She then realized that he was staring at her, directly in her eyes, as if seeing them for the first time. He had the same expression on his face she imagined she must have had when he caught her staring at him. Or it could just be my imagination, she thought. Yes, it's most definitely just my imagination. What was I thinking? She stifled a laugh, realizing how silly she had been. Estela made to walk away from him, wishing to join the rest of the group and forget whatever it was that had just happened.

"Estela," Legolas said, grabbing a hold her arm before she could walk away. He turned her around to face him, holding her lightly by her shoulders. He moved closer to her face, staring at her intently. "There is something about you…I just noticed…This is quite unheard of…" He seemed to be half talking to himself, as if he had forgotten her presence. Estela looked at him in confusion, and saw that his face wore an expression of utmost perplexion and awe.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked. He didn't answer right away, but simply continued to stare at her fixedly. For the second time that day, she became suddenly aware of how close they were to each other. His face was mere inches away from hers. If she moved a step closer…

"Your ears," Legolas said suddenly.

"What?" Estela asked confusedly. It took her a moment to realize that he was staring at her ears. Her ears. Good lord.

"They are not fully…" Legolas trailed off.

"They're not fully what?" she asked, exasperated.

"Human." Legolas removed one his hands from her shoulders, and lightly fingered the tip of her ear. "This is unheard of…" he murmured. Estela reached up and grabbed a hold of his hand, placing it at his side and then quickly letting go.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"They are slightly pointed," he said, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He paused. "And your eyes appear more glasslike and translucent. And you carry an Elvish name...Estela, who are your parents?" he asked.

Estela stared at him in shock, realizing suddenly what he was suggesting. "My parents are human, Legolas," she said flatly. "There's no way I'm…one of your kind."

Legolas looked slightly put out. "Are you quite sure, My Lady? What are your parents like?" he asked.

"Well, my dad is actually really boring. He does accounting at a bank, and likes to read non-fiction books. And my mom…" Estela trailed off, a sudden possibility dawning on her. "My mom vanished when I was five," she said. "My dad still doesn't know where she went." Estela looked up, and saw that Legolas was staring at her intently.

"Estela! Legolas!" A sudden voice broke through Estela's scrambled thoughts. Adonnenniel was staring at them from a fair distance away. "We're leaving. You guys need to catch up," she called.

"Come," Legolas said softly. "We must not dwell on this topic any longer for now. We can discuss it once this quest is over."

That'll be a while, Estela thought gruffly as they walked over and joined the rest of the group again.

"The passage south is being watched!" Gandalf shouted above the wind. "We will take the Pass of Caradhras, over the mountains!"

Coming Up Next!

-Lots of lethal fluffy white stuff!

-An obscure dorky reference that nobody will get!

-A completely irrelevant monologue!

-More walking! (They'll get to Moria eventually. But really…walking to Moria takes about 100 pages in the book, so I didn't want to rush it too much…)

Author's Note: Mental note: Must remember to stay away from Boromir/Estela dialogue just in case my Muse starts forcing me to pair them. This is supposed to be a parody. Wouldn't want to do anything other than a Legomance!