Chapter 2
The Will of the Forest
Spirit of the forest, if you can hear me, then please honor a mother's request. I am dying; I will not last much longer. I do not plead for my life, but for the life of my son; please keep him safe. Please protect him from those who seek him harm; please look after him when I am gone…
From within the depths of the ancient tree, a spirit stirred, hearing the faint prayers of a mortal, a mother, begging for the life of her child. It heard the tiny wails of an infant close by, and felt the life of his mother slip away.
Such a tragedy, the spirit thought at length. The mother had died, leaving her son orphaned and alone. From the depths of the earth, roots sprang up, and wrapped themselves about the mother's body, entombing her in a gentle embrace.
I will honor your request, o brave mother, the spirit thought, for the sake of your love, I shall do as you have asked. A new set of tendrils joined the first, and gently lifted the baby into the air.
Male, a strong spirit, like that of his mother, the spirit observed. The spirit dug deeper into the infant's mind, gently exploring its vast, undefined depths, hoping to see a small glimpse of the boy's future.
Mama! Mama! Want mama! Where mama? Where? The child was desperate for its mother, something the spirit could not provide. Its thoughts were unfocused, save for this single object of its devotion; the boy longed for his mother's gentle touch, for her warmth, for her kiss upon his cheek, or her soft whispers in his ear. But he would never know them again.
Sleep, little one, the spirit whispered, gently. Immediately, the child's wailing ceased, and was replaced by slow, steady breaths. It was the only gift the spirit could provide.
Sleep.
The roots began to recede, as the spirit gently placed the child upon the soft earth once more.
He must have a name, the spirit decided. The mother had not provided one before she died; and the spirit knew that the child would need one before long. Therefore, it was the spirit's responsibility to provide such a sense of identity.
What would be an appropriate name, the spirit wondered. Bido, Fafo, Fili, and Mido were all taken already, as names for his other children; so what was he to do? The child needed a name, and yet, the spirit was unable to provide. He turned the dilemma over in his mind: the boy needed a name, he had a connection to the outside world, a link that none of his other children had –
The spirit's thoughts came to a halt.
Link, he wondered. It was an unusual name, he would admit that, but at the same time, it did fit the boy perfectly. He had a connection to the outside world; he was a connection, a link for the spirit of the forest and the world beyond. He was a bridge for the unseen world that lay in the depths of the forest, and the world from which he had come.
Link, the spirit decided as he receded into the vast depths of his ancient body.
The boy born of the outside world, taken in by the forest, had been given a name by the guardian of the forest.
His name was Link.
His brothers and sisters would arrive before too long, and introductions could be made then, the spirit decided. Until then, he would sleep, and the child with him, undisturbed by any night time noise, or any creature of the wood. Together, father and son slumbered peacefully, awaiting the call of the morning sun.
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"Father?"
The voice of one of his children roused him from his slumber. Several voices, in fact; all of them were gathered about the baby, and whispering small words of wonder to each other about the strange wonder before them.
Yes, my child, what is it? The spirit asked gently.
His daughter, Melanie, looked over her shoulder at the others, before she continued. She was one of the more adventurous of his children, speaking her mind more often than the others, but still hesitant when it came to asking questions of her father.
"Um," she began hesitantly, "well…"
Ask, my child, and do not be afraid of the question that is in your heart, her father admonished gently.
"T-the others and I," she began again, "well…we were wondering what that little thing is on the ground before you. We don't know, and the others wanted me to ask."
He knew they would be curious. They had never seen a baby before.
That is your new brother, her father explained.
"New brother?" Melanie asked, confused. "But he's so small! He can't even sit up, and he doesn't even know how to speak! What do you want us to do with him?"
Raise him, the spirit answered. All his children looked up at him in confusion.
Teach him, guide him, their father continued uninterrupted. Show him what it means to be Kokiri, a child of the forest.
"But Father, isn't he from you, like all of us?" Mido demanded in a baffled tone. How were they supposed to raise their new brother? And what did it mean to "raise" anyway? How did you "raise" someone to become a keeper of the forest? The Kokiri only did what came naturally to them; how did you teach what was a part of yourself?
I will say it again, the spirit answered, deflecting Mido's question, you will raise your brother to know your ways, and to think as you do. I will be watching you, to help you when you need it, and offer advice when you are unsure of what to do.
Mido frowned at his father's words.
He's hiding something, Mido thought to himself. Their father had never avoided answering a direct question before; whatever it was about their new "brother" that their father didn't wish them to know, Mido didn't like. He didn't like secrets being kept from him; his "brother" had a secret that his father wouldn't reveal. That frightened the little Kokiri to the deepest depths of his very soul. His fairy, Ophelia, noticed.
"What is it, Mido?" She asked quietly.
"He's dangerous," Mido muttered under his breath. Whatever else his father might say, Mido knew that their new brother was something different, something to be feared.
He's dangerous, Mido thought to himself once again. He glared at the small infant that lay on the grass before his other brothers and sisters. He was a threat to the family. Mido didn't trust him.
The infant opened his eyes, and giggled at all the faces gathered about him. He reached up with tiny hands, and squirmed about, laughing as the other Kokiri laughed, and smiled down on him.
"Does he have a name, father?" Saria asked politely, as she turned to face the ancient tree.
His name is Link.
