( This has been a while coming [cause I'm lazy] so I hope it turns out okay. This takes place around the starting of the 3rd age. You can assume that most of the communication is in entish, but since that's impossible as well as time consuming to write it's going to be in the common tongue. Also please forgive my lack of middle earth geographical knowledge. I hope you enjoy)
A beautiful sound resounds throughout a massive forest. While lacking words as most living things understand them, the very sound brings to mind thoughts of a young wood in springtime. This is strange because this music comes from one of the most ancient beings in middle earth, Treebeard the Ent. As the elder Ent enters a small clearing in the woods, it can be seen that he looks quite different from how he normally looks. The most shocking difference is that he is covered in bright blue flowers. All his head is wreathed in them and they flow down his back so thickly you cannot see his bark. Taken all together, the flowers look like a massive mane of hair. A little less noticeable is the bark that can be seen on the old Ent. His usual craggy covering has been smoothed out, as if sanded down, and it glistened in the sun as if carefully polished.
Treebeard was in flower, for a great desire to see the Entmaiden Fimbrethil had come over him. He was making his way to the garden of the Entmaidens, singing a song of mating from when the fathers of the fathers of trees were young. As he continued, he came upon a small pool of water. Taking advantage of this, he sank his feet into the shallows and looked at his reflection. Like all males, Treebeard wanted to look the best for his lovely Fimbrethil, and since he was not far from her garden, he wanted to freshen up. The old Ent carefully trimmed his flowers and gave his skin a final shining with the cold water at his feet. When he was finally content with his reflection he placed his great hands into a tube and blew a mighty call so that even the water below him rippled.
But as the call echoed into the distant and no cry was returned, Treebeard began to feel the sharp grains of worry inside his heart. While old, he memory was usually very reliable, and he could swear he recognized this pool and that the last time he flowered the Entmaidens could hear him from there. Never one to be too hasty, Treebeard started his march again, and tried to dismiss the lack of a response to a noonday-sun and need for sleep. As he drew closer, his thoughts got darker, and so lost in thought was he, he did not notice how the trees around him seemed to sway sadly out of his way and that there were no birds within his hearing.
Finally, Treebeard reached the edge of the wood which marked the beginning of the Entmaiden's garden. He burst his head through the last of the trees, to happy to be at his destination to noticed how they seemed to shield him from what was on the other side, and his smiling mouthed dropped as if two ton weights had been attached to his mouth. For where once stood the vast orchards and rolling hills that was the Entmaiden's delight, was naught but a barren wasteland.
The all too old Ent stepped slowly from the forest on to the dry earth. As his feet touched the ground he felt that the earth was dead. He tasted the blood of a great battle between the hasty folk, and knew that the vile Orcs had been the victor. All of this was too much for the old one, and with a great cracking he fell upon his knees. The giant green tears of the great Ent ran down his body in twin rivers, marring his polished skin, and making a pool beneath him and the trees behind him all bent forward in great sorrow.
After a long time, his tears finally resided. Hid once beautiful foliage was now black as pitch with veins stained blood red. His wise and ancient eyes now shone with a fire that would make even Manwe Sulimo upon his mountain step back. Treebeard then let loose a mighty cry, even without his hands as a horn the cry was more than that which a dragons releases in death. So powerful was it, that the bare earth in front of him split into a cavern and clouds above him swirled into a maelstrom. This cry reached all Ent's and all those under there watchful eye within leagues of that spot, and they knew then something terrible had befallen their race and so they came, even to the very spot where Treebeard lay, and their sorrow was the greatest the world had even known.
(Well I hope everyone liked it, this is just part one, there is much more left to come. The next part will be about the Ent-Moot to discuss it and the setting out. On another note I feel the urge to explain a bit about my other story about the Balrog . In my initial description I said tolkien lacked description, when I meant battle description. Also I wrote the Balrog as having grown very arrogant, forgetting of the stronger things in the world, in his years underground and that is why he wonders at Gandalf's strength. I hope that makes things a little clearer. Well, See you next chapter)
A beautiful sound resounds throughout a massive forest. While lacking words as most living things understand them, the very sound brings to mind thoughts of a young wood in springtime. This is strange because this music comes from one of the most ancient beings in middle earth, Treebeard the Ent. As the elder Ent enters a small clearing in the woods, it can be seen that he looks quite different from how he normally looks. The most shocking difference is that he is covered in bright blue flowers. All his head is wreathed in them and they flow down his back so thickly you cannot see his bark. Taken all together, the flowers look like a massive mane of hair. A little less noticeable is the bark that can be seen on the old Ent. His usual craggy covering has been smoothed out, as if sanded down, and it glistened in the sun as if carefully polished.
Treebeard was in flower, for a great desire to see the Entmaiden Fimbrethil had come over him. He was making his way to the garden of the Entmaidens, singing a song of mating from when the fathers of the fathers of trees were young. As he continued, he came upon a small pool of water. Taking advantage of this, he sank his feet into the shallows and looked at his reflection. Like all males, Treebeard wanted to look the best for his lovely Fimbrethil, and since he was not far from her garden, he wanted to freshen up. The old Ent carefully trimmed his flowers and gave his skin a final shining with the cold water at his feet. When he was finally content with his reflection he placed his great hands into a tube and blew a mighty call so that even the water below him rippled.
But as the call echoed into the distant and no cry was returned, Treebeard began to feel the sharp grains of worry inside his heart. While old, he memory was usually very reliable, and he could swear he recognized this pool and that the last time he flowered the Entmaidens could hear him from there. Never one to be too hasty, Treebeard started his march again, and tried to dismiss the lack of a response to a noonday-sun and need for sleep. As he drew closer, his thoughts got darker, and so lost in thought was he, he did not notice how the trees around him seemed to sway sadly out of his way and that there were no birds within his hearing.
Finally, Treebeard reached the edge of the wood which marked the beginning of the Entmaiden's garden. He burst his head through the last of the trees, to happy to be at his destination to noticed how they seemed to shield him from what was on the other side, and his smiling mouthed dropped as if two ton weights had been attached to his mouth. For where once stood the vast orchards and rolling hills that was the Entmaiden's delight, was naught but a barren wasteland.
The all too old Ent stepped slowly from the forest on to the dry earth. As his feet touched the ground he felt that the earth was dead. He tasted the blood of a great battle between the hasty folk, and knew that the vile Orcs had been the victor. All of this was too much for the old one, and with a great cracking he fell upon his knees. The giant green tears of the great Ent ran down his body in twin rivers, marring his polished skin, and making a pool beneath him and the trees behind him all bent forward in great sorrow.
After a long time, his tears finally resided. Hid once beautiful foliage was now black as pitch with veins stained blood red. His wise and ancient eyes now shone with a fire that would make even Manwe Sulimo upon his mountain step back. Treebeard then let loose a mighty cry, even without his hands as a horn the cry was more than that which a dragons releases in death. So powerful was it, that the bare earth in front of him split into a cavern and clouds above him swirled into a maelstrom. This cry reached all Ent's and all those under there watchful eye within leagues of that spot, and they knew then something terrible had befallen their race and so they came, even to the very spot where Treebeard lay, and their sorrow was the greatest the world had even known.
(Well I hope everyone liked it, this is just part one, there is much more left to come. The next part will be about the Ent-Moot to discuss it and the setting out. On another note I feel the urge to explain a bit about my other story about the Balrog . In my initial description I said tolkien lacked description, when I meant battle description. Also I wrote the Balrog as having grown very arrogant, forgetting of the stronger things in the world, in his years underground and that is why he wonders at Gandalf's strength. I hope that makes things a little clearer. Well, See you next chapter)