Author's Note: Chapter two as promised! Enjoy! :)
Critique is much appreciated, dear readers.
Two: Of the Entwives
Fangorn went on in his shepherding of the trees as he went on in his business, awakening the young ones, calming the dark ones.
The Anduin flowed mightily nearby as young Fangorn rustled his verdant leaves with each one of his "hum-hum"s and "bura-rum"s.
He was looking for his Entwife, Fimbrethil, off tending her fruitful trees.
Over the hill and through the woods went Fangorn, and with his long, ponderous strides, he reached the Entwife's garden in no time at all. Into a clearing the Ent went, where there was once forest. His Entwife was gone, her garden overgrown and barren. A desert there was where there was once trees and vegetation and flowers bearing fruit.
Through the forest rang a loud, booming cry: so began the hunt for the Entwives, a long and, so to say, fruitless search.
The smaller-than-small child-like men stared up at the walking fruit trees, who were settling right next to their odd homes-in-holes. The trees were indifferent to their neighbors, which understandably caused great suspicion in the curly-haired creatures. And so, whether the small ones desired it or not, the walking trees grew great gardens of fruit trees.
Every so often, the mystical and somewhat feminine trees (if such could be said of mere walking trees) would leave their blooming homes, and the curly-haired young ones would fearlessly pluck the fruits of the trees' labors. Every time, they would be dragged away by older (but still quite young, of course) curly-haired ones, with bigger feet and thicker hair. Sooner or later, however, the older short ones did notice that the Entwives did not begrudge the fruit, and came themselves to pick it. Legends say the Took of those people himself came to talk to the strange foreign trees.
As time passed, so did the kind and open-minded trees (if such could be said of mere walking trees). They passed into the Old Forest, and ever since then, the forest came alive like it never was before. At least, not in the memory of the curly-haired ones.
Long ages were wasted in the search for the Entwives. Men saw legends of old exist among them, and as is their way, they remade the legends anew. Trees, trees who walked! But soon the legendary trees became just that and walked back into the mists of myth.
The Ents mourned for the loss of their fairer and more open-minded counterparts. Fangorn (or as some began to call him in the way of men, Treebeard) was old now, old not just with age, but with sorrow as well. He was the last of the Ents to give up on the search for the Entwives, even as he was the first to start searching. After he faded from the world of Men, there never was quite a legend like the legend told at fires about how loud was his cry before walking into his forest. It was then that the forest became known as Fangorn, after the last Ent to be seen entering its dark growths.
Author's Note: Disclaimer: This is a FanFiction from the Lord of the Rings world, created and trademarked by J.R.R. Tolkien. The characters, settings, and anything created by J.R.R. Tolkien are not my own and I do not claim ownership to any of them. This is a FanFiction I made with nothing to do with J.R.R. Tolkien, and is for entertainment purposes only: I am not profiting financially from this work, which may or may not be canonical. Thanks to J.R.R. Tolkien for making the world of The Lord of the Rings, for without it, many people would be un-enlightened to the genius of Lord of the Rings and J.R.R. Tolkien and the following FanFiction would never have been made, and I would have no life. Credits from most dialogue and setting to Peter Jackson, one of the best directors ever.