Well, I've read your reviews, and trust me, I'm going to try as hard as possible to incorporate some more "not-in-the-movie" scenes. I should be trying harder with those.

You know, bringing Boromir back is nice in theory, but it's a real pain when you realize that several crucial points in the story rely on him being dead.

"What do you suppose we do if they say no?"

Boromir looked over at Pippin and sighed. "It means… The Ents won't help. We'll leave Fangorn and try to find Aragorn and the others." His eyes glazed a little. It was obvious to Merry, Pippin and Edmund that he was not looking forward to facing Aragorn and the others again, and having to explain what he'd done.

"I wonder what they're up to now?" Pippin mumbled.

"They're probably fighting, or helping to mobilize people for the war. Doing something useful." Merry grunted. "I hate this! I hate sitting and waiting when we should be out helping our friends!"

"If we can convince the Ents that it would be in their best interest to help us, Merry, then believe me: All of the waiting will have been worth it." Boromir tried to soothe the Hobbit's singed nerves.

"Not if Aragorn and the others get killed trying to help while we sit on our duffs and wait for them to finish their bloody council!" He started to pace again, shaking his head angrily.

"You all right, Boromir?" Edmund muttered, squinting at the man. Boromir sighed.

"Yes, Edmund. I'm fine." The boy's eyes narrowed sharply.

"Liar. Tell me." Boromir snorted lightly.

"You know, this may anger you, Edmund, but when you glare at me like that, you remind me eerily of Susan." He was silent for a moment. "I have much to answer for, Edmund. I've betrayed the Fellowship. The others will know that. They shall not forgive me as easily as you three have."

"They'll get over it eventually." Boromir sighed, a little irritated.

"It's not that simple, Edmund," He said, trying to be patient. "When you betray someone, you never truly get their trust back. Never fully."

"It's not like they can talk!" Edmund burst out, jumping up and startling Merry and Pippin. "They felt the pull of the Ring too, didn't they? They know what it's like! How could they blame you for something that could just as easily have happened with them?"

"Simply because it didn't happen to them, Edmund!" Boromir hissed. "Do you not understand? I was the weakest willed of the Fellowship! I was the only one who succumbed to the Ring's call! I don't…" He choked. "I… I don't deserve to be forgiven. Least of all by Frodo."

Edmund gave Boromir a stony look.

"If you give off that 'I'm so miserable, I've betrayed my friends and they'll never like me again' attitude, no one will forgive you, Boromir. They'll pity you!" He put his hands on his hips. "I'm telling you this as your friend, Boromir! Suck it up and get over it! How can you expect them to forgive you if you can't forgive yourself!"(1) Boromir stared at raven haired boy for a moment. Then, slowly, he smiled.

"And once again," He said quietly. "You've snapped me out of it, Edmund. Thank you." Edmund nodded, puffing up a little.

"No problem. That's what friends are for." He sat back down.

There was silence for a time.

"Ed?"

"What, Pip?"

"You know, when you put your hands on your hips like that and started lecturing, you really did look like Susan."

"Oh, shut up before I feed you to one of the trees."

So much later in the evening, Treebeard turned to the Hobbits and the Humans. His expression was hard to read (Mainly because he only had one), but Edmund had a sense that the news wasn't good. He exchanged a hopeful glance with Boromir though, hoping that the Gondorian's words had made an impact. The four Fellowship members stood hopefully before the Ent.

"We have just agreed… hmmmhmmm…" It was here that Treebeard seemed to nod off for a moment. The four Fellowship members exchanged confused looks.

"Yes?" Merry prompted him. Treebeard awoke again, and continued. Boromir shook his head; He wasn't entirely certain now that the Ents would be of great help to their side, particularly if they were all like Treebeard…

"I have told your names… hmmmhmmm… To the Entmoot… And we have agreed that… hmmmhmmm… You are not Orcs."

There was a moment of total silence.

Then, Edmund cracked.

"Jesus Christ, I thought we established that three days ago!" He howled. "Is that all you've been talking about for the past ten bloody hours? Not all of us are going to live as long as you! Time doesn't slow down for y-" Here, Boromir slapped a hand over Edmund's mouth. No need to anger the talking tree.

"What about Saruman? Have you come to a decision about him?" Merry asked through clenched teeth.

"Now, now, Master Meriadoc… hmmmhmmm… Don't be hasty…"

"Hasty? Our friends are out there! Our cousins! Edmund's brother and sisters! They need our help- They cannot fight this war on their own!"

"War… Yes… It affects use all… hmmmhmmm… Tree, root and twig… But you must understand, it takes… hmmmhmmm… A long time to say anything in Old Entish, and we never… hmmmhmmm… Say anything unless it is worth taking a… hmmmhmmm… A long time to say it. The Ents… Cannot hold back this storm."

"Oh, great," Boromir whispered.

"We must… hmmmhmmm… Weather such things as we have always done.

"How can that be your decision!" Merry cried.

"This is… Not our war."

"But it will be!" Boromir said angrily. "Do you think that if he wins, Saruman will leave you in peace? He will burn Fangorn to the ground! You will stand by and watch your home go up in flames?"

"You're part of this world! Aren't you?" Merry yelled at the Ents. They all looked at each other, exchanging unreadable glances. "You must help us- Please! You must do something!"

"If it doesn't affect you now, it will later- Especially is Saruman wins!" Edmund said. Treebeard regarded them sadly.

"You four are young and brave," He said softly. "But your parts… hmmmhmmm… In this tale are over. Go back to your homes."

"Right," Boromir whispered, lip curling back. "Go back to Gondor. If it's still there by now."

"We're not done with this," Edmund snapped. "We're going to find Gandalf and our friends. If you think I can just waltz back home without Peter, Susan and Lucy-"

"Calm down, Edmund." Boromir muttered, casting an angry gaze at Treebeard and the Ents. "We're not going home." He turned to the Hobbits and beckoned them from where they'd been speaking softly between themselves. "With your leave," He said to the three of them, "We could go to Ithilien. My brother, Faramir, is a Ranger there. He will know of the enemy's movements, and we might be able to combat them that way."

"What about Aragorn and the others?" Pippin asked. "Shouldn't we look for them?"

"They could be anywhere by now. I suspect in the long run that our paths will cross, but for now we should go get informed as to what the situation at large is." Merry, still icy about the Entmoot's verdict, nodded.

"Fine. Whatever." Edmund put a hand on his shoulder.

"It'll be all right, Merry. This isn't over by a long shot." Merry shook his head grimly.

"That's not what's gotten to me. It's the fact that the Ents don't understand that this will affect them more than they think. They think that if they sit around and brace themselves, they'll be fine. And they won't."

"Can you bring us to the Fangorn border of the West Emnet Gullies, Treebeard?" Boromir asked. Treebeard gave one of his slow nods.

"Of course… You path is to… Ithilien, yes?"

"Yes. We're-"

"Wait! Stop!" Pippin cried suddenly. Treebeard stopped walking, and everyone looked up at the youngest of the Hobbits. "Turn around and take us south. We can follow the mountains to Ithilien."

"South?" Treebeard huffed.

"Pippin, are you mad? That'll bring us right under Saruman's nose!" Boromir hissed. "It's too dangerous! And I'm almost certain we'd be taking the longest way there!"

"Ah," Pippin said with a conspiratorial gleam in his eyes. "But it's the last thing that Saruman will expect. He would never think we're dumb enough to get that close."

"And it would seem we are dumb enough, then?" Boromir asked dryly. Treebeard bru-hoomed for a moment.

"Well… hmmmhmmm… That doesn't make sense to me… But I suppose you could slip by him… hmmmhmmm… You are, after all, quite crafty… South it is, then…"

"But-" Edmund shook the man's arm with his still-stinging arm.

"No, Boromir- Just roll with it!" He whispered.

"But we'll be going miles out of our way just to risk our lives!" Edmund shook his head furiously.

"No, no- I don't think we're going to end up seeing your brother just yet, Boromir. As crazy as this sounds… I think Pippin has a plan, and I think I know what it is."

"And those little family of field mice that climb up sometimes… hmmmhmmm… They tickle me mercilessly! They're always trying to get some where they…" Treebeard was regaling his companions with another fascinating tree-story when they reached the end of the trees.

Unfortunately, there was supposed to be another mile or so of trees before the end of the forest.

The land was bleak, the sky cloudy. Stumps from trees jutted from the ground, torn and mangled and dead. Treebeard was completely silent for a moment, distraught. Boromir and Merry finally caught on to Pippin's plan.

"Pippin, you clever little Hobbit," Boromir whispered, eyes scanning the ruined area. "This was his plan all along, wasn't it?" Edmund grinned.

"A visual aid always helps," He murmured.

"Many of these trees… Were my friends…" Treebeard whispered, sorrow evident in his voice. "Creatures I had known from nut and acorn… They had voices of their own…"

"I'm sorry, Treebeard." Pippin said softly. Treebeard seemed not to hear him, as his thoughts were becoming angry and bitter. His yellow eyes were focused on the smoke rising from the black tower in the distance.

"Saruman…" Edmund was starting to become unnerved. Treebeard had not done his 'hmmmhmmm' thing in a while now. "A Wizard should know better!" Taking in a slow, deep breath, Treebeard tilted his head back and let out a loud, grating, billowing cry that echoed across the mountains.

"Think we convinced him?" Edmund muttered. Boromir nodded, eyes wide.

"Safe bet, safe bet…"

"There is no curse in Elvish, Entish… Or the tongues of Men… For this treachery…"

"The trees are moving!" Pippin gasped from atop Treebeard's head. And indeed, it was; the edge of Fangorn was creeping and creaking forward, moaning loudly in pain and anger.

"Where are they off to?" Merry asked.

"They have business with the Orcs," Treebeard growled. "But tonight… I have business with Isengard. With rock and stone." At this, echoing, watery cries sounded from the trees of Fangorn, accompanied by the sound of many giant feet crashing down on the forest floor. The Ents appeared from the trees, lurching along to join Treebeard.

"Yes!" Merry hissed.

"Come, my friends!" Treebeard puffed. "Young Masters Boromir and Edmund, allow yourselves to be ferried by Quickbeam. The time for haste has come. The Ents are going to war." He started to walk again as Quickbeam carefully placed Boromir and Edmund on his branch-shoulders. "It is likely… That we go to our doom. The last march… Of the Ents!"

And so, the very land of Middle Earth marched off to fight in the war.

1: By George, I think I've given Edmund the most ironic speech of the story…