Fangorn Forest
You are embarking through the boughs of Fangorn. A path lies here, seemingly made by large and heavy beings as the dirt is packed and smooth. The trees about you have an ominous way about them, making you feel uneasy to be here. The trees themselves seem to make the path, as all other ways are blocked. Continue carefully, for there are things unheardof that live within these woods. The daylight sun beams across the forest of Fangorn, illuminating the paths through the foliage.
"Well this doesn't seem so bad ..." gasps Hinloth with the return of soft laughter to her voice. Onyx eyes glisten with tears held back, and she looks ahead of her to the forms of both Taudhoron and Rhibi as she follows. "Look down there!" she cries, pointing downstream slightly. "That looks as if it might be a brook in Lothlorien. I want to take a closer look!"
As if dancing, her light step outstrips that of the young binn ahead, and she is soon at the fore of the trio. And the air seems lighter, the drooping branches less malevolent, and the wood grows brighter ...
A glad smile spreads across Rhibi's dirt-smeared face. "Cabor! I thought you were lost." He throws his arms around his friend, hugging him tightly. Ignoring Hinloth as she rushes by, he points to the trees around them. "Look. They're not quite as pretty as mallyrn, but they are very big. I was going to climb one," he boasts.
The stream jumps over large boulders and carries small twirling patches of white foam under an archway formed by large graceful willows on both sides. Long drooping branches dip into the clear waters.
Tighter than ever before does Taudhoron wrap his arms about his friend. Quickly, though, he steps back and claps his hands on his trousers. "Were you?" he queries, his eyes still rolling a bit wildy. "I was going to climb one, too. Let's...not do it right now, though..what say you?" Unlike Rhibi, Cabor's eyes do follow Hinloth, and he trails after the little dancing elleth. "Take care not to leave us, mellon! I..wonder where everyone...else is." Toward the stream he, too, goes.
Hinloth smiles at the colums of drooping willows as she passes them by. Her fingers gently brush the thinnest point of each branch, tickling the twigs and making little ripples in the water.
"This is a beautiful place! Nearly as fair as the Alqualonde. I did not know such places as these were so ... close. I should like to live here I think, near that mossy rock." Pointing into the near distance at the great moss wreathed stone, the young elleth pauses in mid stride, to look upon the foamy waters and giggle. Glancing back as the two tarry after her, she places her hands to her hips and says,
"You two -will- get me in trouble. Just like back there. Are your ears made of stone? These are -not- trees for climbing. You'll wake them." With her warning and a nod of her head, the little Laiquendi bounds off down the natural pathway in a light dance, spiralling as she weaves between the willow pillars.
Seeing the direction of his friend's gaze, Rhibi rolls his eyes, but allows himself to be drawn towards the stream as well. A wistful glance is cast back over his shoulder. "I'm coming," he says. When he looks back, Hinloth has disappeared. "Now where'd she go?" he demands. "You were the one who said we should stay together. Hinloth! Come back here." Both hands are wrapped around his mouth to magnify his shout.
The shout echoes between the trees, bouncing back and forth across the stream. It is as if the trees themselves are shouting at the poor child, from all around. "...back here!" a voice calls out across the brook. "... here!" shouts another, from far downstream.
Taudhoron scrambles to keep up with Hinloth, but turns at his best friend's cry. "She's right ahead of me, Rhibi." When he looks forward again, he has lost the Laiquende, and squeaks, "Hinloth, where did you go?" Rhibi's cry echoes oddly about the stream, and he turns in a helpless circle, looking as though he were trying to follow it with his eyes. He starts down again, black boots crunching against the dirt and faltering a few times ere he draws near enough to spot the little elleth again.
Nearing the dell, Hinloth slows her dancing step. She pauses for a moment, still alike a fawn who hears queer voices. "Rhibi? Taudhoron? Where ... are you?" The Laiquende bites at her lower lip, dark eyes roving hither and thither for her friends. "Why are two always getting lost? Quit playing games, and stop -yelling-."
Voiced in a soft whisper, she kneels between two tall and slender willows, peering at her reflection in the clear gathering of waters. "The trees don't like it, and if you don't quit your hiding and hollering, I'll ... Rhibi? ... Taudhoron?"
Startled by the ringing echoes, Rhibi lowers his hands and sidles after Taudhoron. Wide eyes stare all around him. "I didn't yell that loudly. Did I?" He continues to edge backwards, one slow step at a time, until he stumbles on a stone and almost falls into the stream. Flailing his arms wildly, he manages to keep his balance, and turns to see where the others are.
From the clear waters, her reflection looks back at Hinloth... with a green glow shining through her hair, as if someone is holding a lantern over her head.
Swivelling swiftly about, so that she braces herself upon the soft, moist ground near the riverbank, Hinloth voices a muffled cry. Quickly, she puts her hand to her lips, as if to quiet it before the trees grow angry. Then slowly, she turns about, resting on her thigh, and glances into the queer waters again.
"Stop playing Taudhoron. You aren't funny! Rhibi? I'm getting scared again ..."
There is, of course, no lantern hanging from the tree, and, when the child looks into the waters again, the glow is gone. Perhaps, the tree towering above her is now a little closer, as if it bent slightly down to take a closer look at her.
Near the little stream draws Taudhoron, eyes still as wide as they can go. His hand stretches toward Rhibi when the taller edhel nearly falls, but drops again to his side as the other boy rights himself. He creeps nearer to both the stream and his friend, and leans far over to look downstream. "I can't believe we've lost her again." His clear eyes slip from the water to the Dinlom child, and he adds in a voice that may or may not be joking, "Don't /you/ slip away again."
Disgusted, Rhibi agrees. "She is /always/ running off somewhere." As if only now noticing the stream they are beside, he looks down at the inviting water. "I'm thirsty, Cabor. Hinloth can wait a minute." Dropping to his knees, he dips both hands in the swirling creek and raises them to his mouth, cupped and dripping.
Hinloth leans closer to the water, perhaps attempting to discern from whence the green glow comes. Then with a gasping, indrawn breath, the young elleth turns slowly about. Perhaps it is the odd creaking noise, alike the groan of the mellyrn in her homeland, though those trees only groan with the wind.
With a fright, she looks upon the now close-standing tree, and she jumps to her feet, somewhat shakily. It might seem that she would fall into the gathered waters of the still dell as the ground is slippery here, for her hands flail slowly in the still air. And she reaches out to the tree nearby, though some forebodance might be seen written upon her face, and she seems unwilling to touch the queer trees, whether bark, twig or leaf.
Slowly, she teeters into the clear waters with a soft yelp and a loud splash.
The splash carries loudly up and down along the creak... The sound scatters and echoes, and by the time it reaches the other elf-children it sounds less like one splash, but more as if someone was running up along the creek toward them, pounding the water with every step.
A loud splashing is heard. "What was that?" whispers Taudhoron urgently, and he leaps into the stream, causing a splash himself as a small wave of water is sent toward Iaurfer. He quickly backpedals at the rushing footsteps, and tumbles over his friend.
"Help!" comes a sputtering cry as Hinloth resurfaces, but briefly. The roots of the willows now look menacingly down upon her from the banks of the dell, reaching thirstily beneath the soil towards the waters. Her raven crowned and drenched head is submerged again, and she does not rise for some time.
The clear water is considerably browner by the time it drips off of Rhibi's chin. Dapples of light and shadow fall across his mottled green shirt. He takes several deep swallows, before bending over to refill his hands. Loud footsteps splash towards him and he jumps backwards just as Taudhoron falls on him. Off balance already, his friend's rush pushes him all the way into the water. "Oof!" Scrambling and flailing, the small elf makes his way unsteadily to his feet, standing in the middle of the rocky stream with water pouring off of him.
And now Taudhoron is much dirtier than his suddenly-clean friend, for his hair-tie flies off entirely and his clothes are ground into the earth at the bank. He leaps upward, lithe like a fawn, and rends his gaze between the splashing stream and his sodden friend.
The submerged elf-child suddenly raised above the waters, apparently held up by the roots of the same willow, bulging from the sandy bottom. She must have stepped in between them to fall as deep as she did, for they almost reach the surface, holding her up.
Her hair is matted to her face, and finally, as mayhap she notices that she cannot swim very well in her long, flowing dress, the young elleth reaches out to grasp at a root that reaches into the dell. And roots beneath her lift her up, and, soaking wet, her voice cries out in whimpers, crawling towards the banks. Her ankles slip between the roots, at times, but she seats herself, with her knees drawn to her chest and her arms wrapped about them, saying
"Why did I ever agree to follow them. They keep losing me!" Hastily, she glances over her shoulder at the ominously looming tree. Suddenly, the tears flow.
Rhibi stares down at himself. His brown hair is plastered to his head, his clothes are sopping, even his eyelashes drip. Sputtering, blowing water from his nose and shaking it from his hair, he begins to wade sloshily back to shore. The water comes near to his waist here, and it is an arduous task. The current tugs at his shirt and legs and by the time he reaches the shore, he is glad to reach out a hand. "Help ... me ... Cabor," he puffs.
Both hands does the smaller edhel reach toward Rhibi, and Taudhoron digs his heels into the bank and pulls backward with all his slight weight. Even as he does this, his head turns aside and he questions, "Did you hear something?" A step back does he take as he yet pulls, and he eyes his sodden friend, a bit frightened. "There are voices all about this wood. I don't think we should live here after all." His eyes narrow, and suddenly he chortles, "Look at you! You're a mess. At least you don't stink so much now."
"Hoom", booms the voice directly above the little girl, and the willow creaks, trying to bend lower... to look at her! Two large green glowing eyes shine through the bough, and a long branch, split at the end into several twigs, like fingers, slowly swings down to lift her from the water.
"I wasn't yelling, I wasn't yell ..." Hinloth's voice breaks off suddenly, for she had cowered when the glowing, lamp like eyes were kindled and the tree bent lower, and lower to meet her eyes. But as she is taken from the water she cries out, "Help Taudhoron! Help me!"
But her cries die away into a gentle breath, and swaying in the tree's grasp she whispers, "You-you're awake ..."
"I don't stink!" An indignant young elf glares at his friend. "Besides, you're dirtier than me now." Looking from himself to Taudhoron, he suddenly begins to giggle. "I didn't hear anything..." he begins when a hollow sound resonates through the trees. An involuntary squeak is startled from his lips. Staring around wildly, he whispers, "We have to go find Hinloth! What if she's hurt? I'm the captain, I should have taken better care of her." He begins to walk downstream, his legs moving more and more reluctantly.
"Hoom", repeats the tree. "Of course I am awake. Your screaming and shouting would wake up even a rock, hoom". As it speaks, you can see that in addition to eyes, it does have a mouth, a wide jagged gap crossing the trunk, almost hidden by clumps of grey and brown moss cascading down like a gigantic beard.
Hinloth appears thoughtfull, if only for a second. Her chest heaves up and down noticeablly with her breath as the tree holds her aloft. After a moment's reflections she says, dark eyes intent upon the glowing eyes and bearded mouth ... "We didn't mean to wake you. I kept telling them that they would, and that Dangelydh said, but they wouldn't listen."
Glancing below her at the clear waters in the dell, she queries, though it is almost as a statement in her little voice, "You won't drop me now, will you, bearded tree?"
But less reluctant is Taudhoron, for the first mate soon passes the captain. Another voice follows Hinloth's shout, and suddenly the wide-eyed edhel is running. He trips quickly down the path and looks around for her on the ground, stopping solidly at the water's edge. His eyes climb up, and up, and there sits the little elleth, clutched in tree-branches. His lower lip trembles with the fear that suddenly tickles it, but he takes a deep breath and shouts, "Leave her alone!" Backwards he takes a step or two, drawing closer to Rhibi, and he glances to his friend accusingly. "This was all /your/ idea."
"Boom. Hoom.", thunders the tree. "More of you little noisy things." The tree turns to look at Taudhoron, in an odd way, the whole trunk turns slowly until the green eyes look directly at the child. "Elves... yes, this is what you are called in the lists, hoom."
Breaking into a trot to keep up with Taudhoron, Rhibi looks everywhere but at the path in his attempts to find some sign of the lost Hinloth. Not until Taudhoron shouts, does he look up and realize how close he is. Skidding to a stop, mouth agape with wonder and fear, he stares upwards in silence for long minutes.
"In the lists, bearded tree? I am an Elf, yes." Hinloth looks thoughtfull again, but she is jarred from her thoughts swiftly. For with the booming and the hooming of the tall tree, her weight is off centred and she is caught off guard. She might have fallen back into the dell, were she to have not quickly grasped onto one of the great, barky fingers of the hands.
But she seems more at ease now, for she has neither been eaten, crushed nor dropped back into the root-filled water. And she smiles, though it is faint, and a sparkle comes into her dark eyes. "These are the noise makers, who make noise without a cause. -I- only make noise when I am drowning." Puffing out her chest, as if with newly found courage, she says to the two edhil on the ground, "I told you that Dangelydh was right, and Hyardoel was wrong."
"Hoom, yes, all things are in the lists. Living things, and mountains, and rivers, and ... hoom ... what are they called, hoom... seas... yes. But it was long ago, yes, that we were given the lists. I remember the Elves, hoom. They come here, often. Every hundred years, even less sometimes. But they are tall Elves, not little saplings, hoom."
Fear forgotten for the moment in the face of such an unjust accusation, Rhibi transfers his gaze to Hinloth. "W-without cause?" He stutters in disbelief. "We were trying to find you! I thought you might be hurt!" The tree with eyes speaks, and Rhibi's eyes dart back to it. Hesitantly he says, "I will be tall. When I am grown."
Sable brows lowered and icy gaze peering upwards, Taudhoron juts his little chin out and seems speechless at the talking tree's words. His lip sticks out further, and his eyes nearly shimmer with tears. Hinloth's words seem to much for him, and he calls up, still not very quiet, "I did not say that Aunt Hinloth didn't know about talking trees. Only that she never mentioned them to /me/. She probably knows more about them than Dangelydh."
Finally, he braves words to the ent, quieter and resentful. "And what are you, then? Are you on these...lists?"
Hinloth shivers slightly, though no chill breeze here blows. Nodding her head at the tree's explanation, she says, "It must have been a long while since Elves have come here, and yes, I am just a sapling. But some, like the aunt of my mellon, think talking trees to be fairy tales! Some, that is, who are not me." With a pleased smile towards the two edhil on the ground, the little Laiquende says in her quietest voice possible, "You do not think that this bearded tree would hurt us, Rhibi! It was him, or her, that saved me, while you two were off playing Captain and First Mate!"
"I am ... hoom ... an Ent. That is what you call me, yes. Ent." Green eyes look down at the child without blinking. "I live here, hoom. What are you doing here, in my wood?"
Taudhoron sniffles. "We weren't playing Captain and First mate! We were looking for you! You had run off!" He wilts a bit beneath the unblinking gaze of the ancient creature, and suddenly babbles, "Rhibi thought it would be a good idea for us to sail down the river on a raft and start a new nation called the Fangornhrim." His thumb jabs at the edhel over his shoulder. "He's our Captain and everything." His face flushes deeply, and he doesn't look behind him.
Frustrated, Rhibi tries once again to explain matters to Hinloth. "I didn't /know/ there was a tree here to save you. I wasn't playing, I was trying to help you." Bravely, he looks up into enormous green eyes. "It was my idea." He swallows convulsively before he can continue, in a trembling voice. "I ... my cousin told me stories about the big trees and I wanted to see them. They came because .. because of me. Don't hurt them? Please?"
"Fangornhrim, hoom. You little saplings cannot grow without tall Elves, hoom. You must return to your roots, hoom. Less noise for me, too." With that, the green eyes dim, and the knotted twiggy fingers part, letting the child slip between them and onto the ground.
Crawling down from the mighty tree limbs as they part for her and landing on the ground without a noise, perhaps Hinloth goes unnoticed, if only for a few moments. Smiling up at the Ent, and sopping wet, she says, "Maybe he has gone back to sleep. Go quietly now!"
With that, the little Laiquende lass scampers off, back down the path. The only rumour of her passing is a melodical, hushed giggle. "Let's find the tall Elves, and the mighty mellyrn. Maybe the trees will not shepherd us anymore, now that they know we are little saplings of Elves."
The Ent now looks again more like a common willow, an ancient and tall one, but more like a tree than something which could talk, and move. Still, the sense of being watched does not leave you, and a quick glance every now and then catches what might be a movement or a hint of an eye watching through the leaves, but a closer look always finds just a tree.
"I'm not so very little," Taudhoron murmurs up to his taller friend, and he makes a squeaking noise as the Silvan maid is dropped. "Wait for us! Do not run away again..the trees may turn bad!" Darting little eyes flash around at the watching wood, and he takes off after Hinloth. Again.
Almost as hesitant to leave as he was to come, Rhibi backs away. A few steps are taken while he looks at the ent which looks more and more treelike by the minute; and then he turns around. Seeing nothing of Hinloth but a flicker of light on her dress, he sighs. "Hinloth!" Warily, he looks over his shoulder. and tries to call more softly. "Hinloth, come back! You will get lost again."
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