#nonbinary aragorn

If there was one thing Aragorn had learned while on their long road, it was how flirtatious you could make hacking spiders apart sound.

Ordinarily, Aragorn would smile in the dark and fall asleep to the sounds of his companions discussing the best use of certain herbs, or perhaps exchanging childhood misadventures.

But tonight Aragorn laid on his bedroll listening intently.

“It symbolizes that I am neither male nor female,” Gimli told Legolas, evidently showing him the braids adorning his beard—and Aragorn wondered if Legolas understood what it meant, to be shown a dwarf’s beard, but it did not seem to matter as Gimli’s words nestled between Aragorn’s ears.

I am neither male nor female.

“Oh,” Legolas murmured. “Yes, the Silvan folk have something similar. If a wood-elf gathers their hair behind their ears with certain braids, you can know that you must look past their appearance for their gender.”

Gimli snorted. “Imagine assuming one’s gender based on their appearance.”

Legolas let out what might have been a sad sigh. “Alas, my friend, we are not all like dwarves.”

The fire crackled and Gimli said, “Is that what your braids signal? I must confess to not having thought much of them.” “Yes,” Legolas said, voice almost lost in the sounds of the fire dying. “I do not truly hold to one or the other of the Men’s sexes, but have never really found the proper words to describe it in my own tongue. But I still wear the braids, though it is mostly to honour my mother’s heritage. It does not matter much to me what gender others assign me.” There was silence, and Aragorn turned what he’d just heard over in his head. He had known that some elves were neither male nor female, but had thought it a biological occurrence, like what sometimes happened in Men. But his companions’ words made Aragorn wonder if, perhaps, one’s gender was not determined by their genitalia. Legolas let out a soft laugh and Aragorn returned to the present with a bump. “So we truly are not that different after all! But you must tell me, Gimli—do you not wish me to use male pronouns when referring to you, friend?” Aragorn had not even considered that, but he still listened, fascinated, as Gimli hummed and replied, “When we are among friends, aye, I would rather be called ‘they’ than ‘he’. But you know how Men are.” “Aye,” Legolas said thoughtfully. “I do not think Aragorn would hold with the prejudices of Men. He was raised in Rivendell with the elves there, and he may have been living when the twins asked for their names to be changed, though I am not sure about when that was.” “Aye, and elves never hold prejudices,” Gimli said, but there was no heat in his—their?—voice, and Legolas laughed again. “And certainly there are none among the dwarves,” he teased. Legolas paused, then added, “But Estel—why so quiet?” Aragorn flinched and his throat went dry. “Forgive me, friends,” he croaked. “I did not mean to over hear.” “No, you didn’t,” Gimli agreed. “And I trust you, Aragorn, but I must ask—does it trouble you, knowing we are not male after all?” “No,” Aragorn replied, and it was the truth. He paused. “If I may—how do you know?” He sat up and watched his companions glance at each other—a natural reflex neither of them seemed to notice.

Legolas shrugged. “It was only after I became friends with someone like me that I realized that she and I were not so very different. Before I had not realized I was different from anyone else.”

“Dwarrow learn from a young age that there are not simply two genders, or even sexes,” Gimli added. They shrugged. “I suppose I just always knew.”

Legolas nodded. “Like Tauriel,” he said. “She always knew.”