My narrative sometimes tracks Tolkien's version of Middle-earth, sometimes Jackson's.

I would like to thank the following reviewers: Melanda, CAH, Ne'ith, vectis, punkballet. I am delighted to receive any and all responses, whether reviewers are logged in or not. If you do happen to be logged in, I will use the reply feature to get back to you unless you have disabled the private messaging feature. (Please notice that the fanfiction site has changed its system so that responses to reviews go out via the private messaging feature. That is why the people who have disabled that feature have not heard back from me.)

This chapter may incorporate incidents and/or quotations from the book and/or movie versions of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. The chapter may also draw upon posthumous publications edited by Christopher Tolkien, such as The Silmarillion.

Beta Reader: Dragonfly.

Chapter 55: Guardian of the Forest

When Arod sprang forward, trampling one of the brigands, the remaining robbers had been momentarily distracted from Legolas, who likewise leapt for the cover of the forest, but in the opposite direction. He had already put several trees between himself and the Men before they noticed that he had fled.

"Hey, the other one's run off!" shouted a robber.

"After 'im," shouted a second. "We're more likely to catch the one afoot than the one horsed."

The brigands turned and scuttled in the direction Legolas had taken, but they were no trackers. Without having the Elf in sight, they were soon blundering about the forest, crashing through thickets with no idea whether to run east or west, north or south.

In fact, no matter which direction they had run, they would have been unable to find the Elf. For they had something in common with that most famous of brigands, Khan Noonien Singh: they were the captives of two-dimensional thinking. After getting out of sight of his foes, Legolas had fled neither east nor west, nor north nor south. He had scrambled into a tree, and now, sitting comfortably with his back against the trunk, the Sinda was nibbling on the corner of a lembas wafer. From time to time a robber would pass by his hiding place, but Legolas was unconcerned. Even if it occurred to the humans that their prey was hidden in a tree, they could not hope to guess which one. Would they climb the tens of thousands of trees in the forest in hopes of finding the one in which he was hidden? Legolas thought the robbers were foolish, but not that foolish.

After a little while, Legolas put away the lembas wafer and sipped from his water skin. Had he had his bow, he would have turned the tables on his foes, shadowing them and picking them off one by one. However, he had left his bow with Arod, all the better to lull the brigands into feeling safe so that they would lower their own bows. He had not wanted to risk one of them getting off a shot at Gimli and Míriel.

The forest was quiet now, save for bird song, and Legolas did not sense the nearness of any foe. He decided it was probably safe to descend. Cautiously, he returned to the glade where the travelers had rested. He had no trouble picking up Arod's trail. 'Stupid humans', he laughed. 'If they had only thought, they would have realized that it would be much easier to follow the trail of a horse than of an Elf!' Suddenly he felt sorry for his foolish foes. 'I suspect they are brigands because they have failed at other trades', he said to himself. 'Still, they cannot be allowed to prey on folks. Whatever ill-fortune they have suffered, they have no right to inflict misfortune on others'.

Legolas saw at once that Arod's trail led back in the direction of Edoras. 'Arod was stabled in Edoras', the Elf observed to himself. 'It is natural that he should make for a familiar place'. Suddenly he froze. Something was near that was neither bird nor animal, but Legolas was not certain that it was a human, either. He looked all about but saw nothing but a bird flitting from tree to tree. It landed on the branch of a beech tree. Legolas's eyes lingered upon the tree. It was not very old, but it had seen hard times, for the bark on one side was scorched. The injury was a relatively recent one, as the bark had not fully healed. None of the other trees nearby showed any sign of damage.

"I suppose," Legolas mused aloud, "that the tree was struck by lightning, and it alone was injured. Odd it should have been singled out, though, for it is surrounded by much taller trees."

"Not lightning, Master Elf," said a soft voice like the soughing of a breeze through branches. The voice was gentle, but Legolas drew a knife, for Saruman's voice had oft been gentle.

"I mean you no harm, young sir," came the voice again. "I remember that you were with Mithrandir at Isengard, and a friend of Mithrandir I would trust as my own."

"When did you see me at Isengard with Mithrandir?" asked Legolas, looking around for the source of the voice.

"After we defeated the foul wizard who had polluted its environs," replied the voice.

Now Legolas understood where he must look, and he felt rather silly for not having thought of it earlier. "I am as foolish as those humans," he muttered. He eyed the beech, and since he knew what he was looking for, he saw at once the eyes, nose, and mouth of an Ent.

"There was only one Elf in that company," the Ent continued. "The little people spoke of one named 'Legolas'. You must be he."

Legolas sheathed his knife and bowed deeply. "I am he," he confirmed. "So you are acquainted with Merry and Pippin? You are not Fangorn, however, for I know him by sight."

"I am Beechbone," said the Ent.

"Beechbone? Merry and Pippin have told me of you. They say that you were foremost in the assault on Orthanc and that you suffered for it. You were badly scorched by some infernal fire that erupted from one of the many pits that had been dug beneath the Ring of Isengard."

"Yes, and that fire should have been the end of me. I went up like a torch."

"How did you escape?"

"Fangorn had set many Ents to tearing at the foundations of the dam that Saruman had erected to stifle the power of the Isen. Happens that the dam collapsed at the moment that I was kindled. I dashed toward the onrushing waters and doused myself in them."

"That was quick thinking," Legolas said approvingly.

"The prospect of a burning concentrates the mind wonderfully," Beechbone replied wryly. You may have already perceived, Reader, that Beechbone was a 'quick study' as compared to Fangorn. The younger Ent had already conveyed as much information in the space of a few minutes as Fangorn was likely to convey in a week.

"Now, then, Master Elf," Beechbone continued. "You had many companions when you came to Isengard. Surely they have not forsaken you?"

"No, indeed they have not," Legolas said quickly. "The most of them—including Mithrandir—are on the way to Isengard itself, to see how the rebuilding gets on and how Saruman has taken to his changed circumstances."

"Hmm, Saruman." Beechbone shook his head sadly. "I fear that his voice still has the power to do harm."

"What do you mean?" Legolas asked anxiously. Were Mithrandir and the Hobbits walking into a trap?

"Fangorn spends hours each day listening to the old miscreant," Beechbone said gloomily. "I shouldn't be surprised if Saruman soon succeeds in persuading Fangorn to set him at liberty."

Legolas considered whether he ought to try to pick up Gandalf and the Hobbits' trail in order to warn them. No, he decided after a few minutes. His friends likely would reach Isengard before he could catch up with them. Moreover, the threat represented by Saruman no doubt would be better countered by an Istar's wisdom than an Elf's blade. Legolas therefore resolved to put his efforts into finding Gimli and Míriel.

The Elf's meditations were interrupted by Beechbone.

"You are troubled, young sir," he said shrewdly.

"I must decide whether to go after Mithandir or another friend of mine. I think it must be the latter."

"That is likely best. I imagine your Mithrandir can look after himself. Who is this other friend?"

"A Dwarf who has been my companion for many months. He was with me at Isengard."

"Ah, yes. The axe-bearer. It is said, though, that this Dwarf has never been known to take axe to living tree."

"Indeed, he has not. Gimli has hewn many Orcs, but of trees, I swear to you that he has hewn only deadfalls. You would not grudge him the wherewithal to cook his meat?"

"Meat? Nasty stuff, but to each his own. No, I do not grudge him the deadwood to cook his supper. It is probably a nobler calling than crumbling from the dry rot or being dined upon by termites."

Legolas once again bowed. "I thank you for your forbearance, Master Beechbone—especially as I, too, have a preference for cooked meat over raw. Indeed, if it would not offend you, I should like to gather a few sticks and cook a simple repast before going on my way."

"Not here, Master Elf. This spot is too exposed. Wicked Men have been roaming the forest and attacking wayfarers. I should not like them to come upon you."

"It is wicked Men such as those who separated me from my friend. They surrounded us as we were hastening to Helm's Deep with a child whose family had been slaughtered by brigands—perhaps by those very brigands who assailed us."

Beechbone shook his head sadly, the leaves of his crown rustling. "Saruman has been cast down, and I hear tell that the Dark Lord himself has been overthrown, but it will be long before peace extends throughout all lands. But come. I will take you to my hall, where you may rest in comfort and safety."

Beechbone began to stride rapidly, covering a dozen feet with each step of his long limbs. Legolas ran at a jog to keep up with him, but the Elf was not winded and he resumed their conversation.

"You are far from Fangorn Forest, Master Beechbone."

"After the battle, I was in much pain, but movement distracted me from the agony of my burnt bark. I began to walk without cease until I came to this place, by which time my hurts had eased somewhat. I must confess," the Ent added, "that it was also in my mind that I might happen upon an Ent-wife."

"And has your quest succeeded on that score?"

"Alas! I have found no signs of our lost kinswomen; nor has anyone had any tales to tell of them."

"I am very sorry, Master Beechbone. But Middle-earth is vast. Perhaps in some hidden place the Ent-wives still garden."

Beechbone shook his head. "I had a dream one night. In it, the Ent-wives had searched out one last garden spot, alongside the shores of the Great Sea. And when they had planted that garden, they launched themselves into the ocean. Anyone looking on would have thought them to be an enormous raft. West they floated, until they were out of sight of Man and Elf."

"West? They may have come to Valinor, Master Beechbone."

As Legolas spoke, he hoped that it was true that the Ent-wives had found a haven and lived on. Would it be only Men who in the end would inherit the world, he wondered. The dragons had perished, and as frightening as they had been, it had been gratifying to know that such magnificent creatures lived. The Orcs would soon be extinguished, at Aragorn and Éomer's command hunted without quarter. The Men of Gondor and Rohan were under orders to spare not even the lesser Goblins who skulked in crevasses and rarely troubled anyone. The Trolls likewise were being driven out of their redoubts, and helpless in the light of day, were one after another turned to stone. Legolas imagined that in centuries to come their petrified remains would be mistaken for crude statues carved by antique races. As for the Dwarfs, Gandalf had prophesied that they would suffer a dire fate, their subterranean world collapsing in the throes of a great earthquake. The Hobbits, it was hoped by Gandalf, would survive. Smaller even than Dwarfs, they might find sanctuary in lands that Men did not covet. But their numbers would dwindle.

And Elves—there would be no place for Elves in Middle-earth—save in stories. 'So much has been lost, so much will be lost in days to come', Legolas said to himself. 'Let the Ent-wives at least endure; let them come to Valinor and take root in that place'.

"You are grave, Master Elf," Beechbone broke into his thoughts. "I had thought that Elves were merry—or so they are in all the songs."

"Yes, in songs," Legolas said sadly. "But we do not live in songs—or, rather, we live only in songs!"

"Now it must be plain to anyone that you are Mithrandir's friend, for he, too, likes to speak in riddles. You cannot at the same time live in songs and not live in songs, save in a riddle. But never mind that—here is my hall!"

They had come to a glade that was almost entirely surrounded by impenetrable thickets except for a small opening at one end. Here they entered, Beechbone afterwards planting himself in the gap so that no one might follow. Legolas would indeed be safe in this place. Giving way to weariness, the Elf threw himself upon the mossy carpet and allowed himself to fall into a deep sleep.

When Legolas awoke, the moon had risen, and he lay upon his back a little while looking up at its placid face, which gazed down on him benignly. Beechbone was asleep, seemingly, his eyes closed and his boughs waving gently in the night breeze. Suddenly it occurred to Legolas that he was alone with his thoughts, as he had rarely been for the past year. When he had first arrived at Rivendell, self-exiled from his own family but not yet comfortable in Elrond's, Legolas had spent many hours alone. He had fled to the woods whenever he was unhappy, there to brood and pick at his scabbed-over sorrows. He could not remember when the forest had changed from a place to nurse his grievances to a place of contentment, for like the transformation of oak to acorn, the change was not of a day. Steadily he had grown to love Elrond and his household (he had always loved Mithrandir); ne'ertheless, he had become accustomed to spending much time in silent enjoyment of the trees of Imladris. When he returned to his homeland and accepted his role as Prince of Mirkwood, he had had fewer opportunities to escape to the forest, for his devoted retinue was difficult to evade. Still, evade them he had, spending the occasional restful hour perched upon a tree limb, holding silent conversations with his boughed companions.

When Legolas had left Mirkwood to return to Rivendell with news of Gollum's escape, he had looked forward to spending time reacquainting himself with some of his favorite trees in the vicinity of the Hall. Instead, almost at once he had been drawn into Mithrandir's machinations. The wizard had found excuses to throw the Elf into Gimli's company, and it seemed as if he hadn't had a moment to himself from that point onward. The times when Legolas had been 'alone' were merely those occasions when he took the point or stood sentry—and those were hardly opportunities for one to commune with nature!

Now he was alone with his trees except for the sleeping Beechbone, who was very nearly a tree himself. Legolas glanced toward the Ent and smiled. An owl had silently swept into the clearing and was now perched upon Beechbone's shoulder. The scene reminded Legolas of Radagast. The Elf's smile faltered. Radagast. Had the Brown Wizard survived the War of the Ring? If he had, was he still in Middle-earth, or had he departed for the Undying Lands, as Gandalf would shortly do? Would the young Elf ever have the opportunity to speak with Radagast one last time, to thank him for the hours that he had spent pleasantly in his company, listening to the wizard's stories, marveling at the ease with which he conversed with his furred and feathered friends? Suddenly Legolas sat bolt upright. Being in the company of trees was all very well, but every moment he spent in this forest deprived him of precious time with other friends, leafless ones who walked about on two legs and smoked pipe-weed.

At the Elf's sudden movement, Beechbone opened his eyes. With one bough he brushed aside a vine that had fallen across his face. "Hasty as a Hobbit, Master Elf? You have only been resting a very short while, as the forest grows."

"I find myself restored," Legolas assured him. "I must seek my friend Gimli. Arod would carry him out of danger, I believe, but I must not rest until I am certain."

"You have not supped," Beechbone observed.

"I have lembas wafers. One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man."

"Ne'ertheless, you must join me in quaffing an Ent-draught before you depart."

To this Legolas agreed, for it would have been ill-mannered to refuse. Bending stiffly, Beechbone retrieved a wooden bowl and dipped it in a hollowed-out tree stump, bringing it away filled with a honey-golden liquid. Gravely, Legolas accepted the bowl and sipped from it. The brew changed from amber to forest green as he drank, and the flavor changed from honey-mead to various flavors of mint: apple and lemon mint, spearmint and pennyroyal.

Legolas drained half the bowl and then handed it to Beechbone, who drank the remainder. "Now, Master Elf," said the Ent as he set aside the bowl, "you must permit me to set you on your way."

"You have been very kind," Legolas replied. "I must not trouble you further."

"It will be more trouble," Beechbone observed wryly, "if I have to exercise myself in pursuing any wicked Men who might happen upon you. I expect you know how to climb trees better than most, Master Elf, so up you go!"

Legolas bowed in acknowledgment of the compliment and then nimbly climbed upon one of the Ent's shoulders. Beechbone strode from his hall, and Legolas soon realized that on the previous day the long-limbed Ent had not been striding as rapidly as he could have. 'I was forced to run at a jog to keep up with him yesterday', Legolas said to himself. 'Today I should have to flat out race—and even then I should barely be able to keep him in sight!'

In short order Ent and Elf had returned to the spot where they had met. Legolas pointed out Arod's trail, and they began to follow it. After about an hour, Beechbone suddenly rooted himself in place and uplifted several of his boughs, screening Legolas from sight. A large band of Men trudged by, swords and long knives in their belts, cudgels and bows in their hands. Peeking out from his vantage point, Legolas counted their numbers. 'Thirty-seven', he thought to himself. 'It seems that Gimli and I were attacked by only a portion of the band'.

To Legolas's distress, he saw that several of the outlaws led horses. He was now very glad that Arod had made for Edoras. The forest was infested with outlaws, some horsed, and Éomer must be warned. Thus far the brigands had preyed upon travelers who ventured into the woods, but they might be strong and bold and possess horses enough to launch forays onto the plains, raiding settlements at the edge of Éomer's domain.

After waiting until it was certain that no brigands lingered, Beechbone strode anew through the forest, and soon they reached the edge of the woods. Legolas stood up upon Beechbone's shoulder and looked eagerly into the distance. There was no sign of Arod or his riders. The Elf was a little disappointed but also relieved. "I know from the tracks," he said to Beechbone, "that Gimli is clear of the forest. In the main I am happy that he has passed beyond my sight, for that means that he has also passed beyond the sight of any brigand who might happen by. Now I will hasten after him."

The Elf leaped from his perch upon Beechbone. "Stay well, Master Elf," said Beechbone. He inclined his crown slightly, and Legolas replied with a respectful bow. "You match me bow for bough," jested the Ent, waving a branch in illustration. Then he turned and vanished into the forest, becoming indistinguishable from the trees that he guarded.

'I had not thought the Onodrim so merry', Legolas thought to himself, 'but then I was judging only by my acquaintance with Fangorn. Perhaps there is as much variety amongst Ents as among any race'.

Turning his back upon the forest, Legolas began to run as steadily as he had when, as one of the Three Hunters, he had raced across the Plains of Rohan in pursuit of Merry and Pippin and their Uruk-hai captors. He had run until the forest at his back had dwindled to a thin line against the horizon when he heard the distant rumble of hooves coming toward him. At once he threw himself upon the ground, his Lórien cloak making him as indistinguishable amidst the tall grass as Beechbone had been amongst the trees.

'It may be a company of Rohirrim', he said to himself, 'but some of the brigands have horses. Perhaps some of their fellows, horsed, have already begun to ride out onto the plain'.

Suddenly Legolas trembled with fear, but not for himself. The horsemen were riding back from the direction in which Arod had galloped. What if they were brigands and they had encountered Gimli and Míriel? If they had slain his friends, Legolas vowed, he would avenge them, even at the cost of his own life.

Taking a knife in each hand, Legolas cautiously peered above the grass, waiting to learn his fate and the fate of his friends.