Sorry, more exams but a little more important this time. Anyway, here are
Treebeard's answers just for Hydro the Dragon! Thanks to all the reviewers
both old and new, also thanks to Renaissance Grrl and Kalamir for your help
on the elves crying thing. Although I've had a thought: tears keep the eyes
moist but if elves sleep with their eyes open that would dry the eyes out,
unless they didn't have that problem then they biologically wouldn't need
to cry......... stupid scientific brain! Never mind, in the wood of
Lothlorien...
"What is it?" Orophin muttered to his brother. Haldir shook his head and held a finger to his lips for silence. The younger elf complied but could see no cause for his brother's concern. In the peace of the borders of Lothlorien, Orophin could hear nothing, except for the faint rustling of the trees and the creaking groans of the old trunks.
Except for the occasional crash.
It was like the falling if some great branch within the forest, and yet that usually only happened once, not repeatedly, and certainly not on such a calm day as today.
"It's almost like..." Orophin couldn't say.
"Footsteps." Haldir finished for him. "But of what I could not say." That thought alone disturbed him; in all his experience he had never come across anything like this. "Alert my Lord Celeborn, hurry." He whispered to his brother, who was reluctant to leave but Haldir hurried him along. "Go!"
Orophin scrambled away, leaving Haldir alone with whatever it was that was slowly drawing nearer, for it was approaching, the ground shaking with each 'step'. What beast or being it could be Haldir could only guess, and his bow was drawn in his hand, his keen eyes searching for any movement among the forest.
Wishing for a higher field of view, Haldir took the chance and quickly scrambled to a higher talan, nerves as taut as the bowstring in his fingers. Silence had now fallen, the strange crashing had stopped, and save for the barely perceptible breathing of the elf, there was no movement among the wood. Haldir paused a few moments longer, eyes narrowing as he thought he perceived eyes staring at him from among the branches. He would have laughed at his hallucinations if the situation were not so tense.
And if the eyes had not blinked, and a great head seemed to emerge from the very forest itself.
In his long life, Haldir had seen many things, but nothing had prepared him for this. Especially when the head seemed to twist to one side, and a merry laugh escaped from ruddy lips among dark skin. "There is no need to fear, little Elfling." A resonant voice told him as his fingers tightened on an arrow shaft. "I bring you a message, nothing more."
Haldir felt like a young elf, mouth open but no words seemed suitable for such a meeting as this, but someone else found the right utterance.
"Hail, and well met, one of the great Onodrim Elders."
Lord Celeborn of Lothlorien stepped forward, placing a brief hand on Haldir's shoulder to calm the nervous warden, and to ask him to step down his vigilance. He did so willingly, having not even heard his Lord's approach to the talan. "What brings you, Master Rowan tree to our humble boarders?"
"I bring a message from Fangorn, he apologises for the lack of his presence to you Lord, but matters require his attention at the Treegarth of Orthanc. Bregalad is my name, and here is my message."
A great hand extended upwards towards the elves, and within it they saw a great fallen limb of a mighty tree, which he placed with care upon the wooden talan. A brief frown creasing his brow, Celeborn knelt beside the great branch, investigating the marks that seemed to be imprinted in the bark.
"Fangorn asked that perhaps you would make replicas for him and pass his message on?" Bregalad mentioned as Celeborn began to read.
First make a copy of this letter and change the answers so they apply to you. Then send it to all the people you know. You may learn some interesting facts about your friends!
A smile of understanding met Celeborn's lips, as he traced the carved patterns beneath his fingers. How this madness had invaded the very forests of Fangorn, the Elf Lord did not dare to think, but he seemed to think that a hobbit might well be responsible. He looked up into the face of Bregalad once more.
"This message does indeed make sense to me, great Onodrim, and I will grant the Lord Fangorn's request." He bowed low to the Ent, which Bregalad looked upon with amusement. "Also," Celeborn added to his visitor, "You would be most welcome to remain amongst our borders for as long as you wish."
The Ent, seemed to sway as if in a breeze, and an amused chuckle escaped him. "My thanks, the trees here seem eager to talk." He laughed again. Celeborn bowed once more to Bregalad and the Ent turned and wandered, soon lost amongst the trees once more save for the quaking shake of his steps. Celeborn bent to read the rest of the strange message, Haldir and Orophin taking a look over their Lord's shoulders.
Name: Treebeard, Fangorn, of the Ents, or Onodrim, choose as you will.
Nicknames: I would put my entish name, but I fear it would take up all the room I have.
If you could build a house anywhere, where would it be? I have remained with my trees for some time now, but Orthanc is becoming a pleasant place to be. Perhaps there.
What is your favourite place to be? I'm not sure I have one. After all the ages I have lived, you start to lose track of all the places you have seen.
What is your least favourite place to be? Amongst the ruins of great trees I have watched grow. Always a tragedy.
What is the last good song you heard? The song of the ash trees at dusk yesterday.
What is your favourite colour? The brown of the soil, bark and leaf.
What is your favourite smell? The smell of change upon the air, but only if it is for good.
What is your favourite article of clothing? Clothing? I take no clothing but the bark as my skin and the leaves upon me.
What makes you angry? That no one cares for our forests anymore. I remind all I see to be concerned about their welfare, they can have a nasty temper when provoked I warn you.
What time do you wake up in the morning? The days mean little to me; the question should be when do I wake in the age. I have little need of sleep. It is more of a hibernation of sorts.
Can you juggle? I do not understand this word: juggle. How does one juggle exactly?
What would you hate to be left in a room with? Filthy, destroying little Orcs. There would not be many left with by the time I had finished though.
Is the goblet half empty or half full? The bowl should always be drained fully for a refilling; it should never be left half full.
What is the first thing you think when you wake up? Where have the field mice nested this time?
What is your favourite form of exercise? A stroll among gentle slopes towards my home.
Who do you have a crush on at the moment? I'm not sure I understand this question. I'm standing on a small green plant but I'm certainly not crushing it.
What have you got in your pocket? I don't understand this concept either. What is a pocket?
Who is most likely to respond to this letter? I did not think I should greet the Lord of Lothlorien again, but I never said I would never hear from him.
Who is least likely to respond to this letter? I should think the Entwives, but if anyone should see them, please do herd them back in my direction.
Celeborn personally made multiple copies of Fangorn's letter, making the right number of copies for those who would be interested in the Ent's answers. More than anything, it helped to distract him from thoughts of his wife. Even as he sat writing, he noticed her presence coming and going, making preparations for her departure from the shores that he intended to stay a little longer upon. He took a few moments from his inscribing to listen to her humming a forlorn tune, and not for the first time did a tear threaten to fall. Taking a breath he continued to write, now using his own answers to keep his grief at their parting at bay...
Ah, Celeborn's feeling a little low. Well, after two ages with your wife, wouldn't you be if she left? Anyway, hope Treebeard's answers were all satisfactory! Celeborn up next, or maybe I'll slip Gollum in... see if I get inspired! Tune in to see next time!!
"What is it?" Orophin muttered to his brother. Haldir shook his head and held a finger to his lips for silence. The younger elf complied but could see no cause for his brother's concern. In the peace of the borders of Lothlorien, Orophin could hear nothing, except for the faint rustling of the trees and the creaking groans of the old trunks.
Except for the occasional crash.
It was like the falling if some great branch within the forest, and yet that usually only happened once, not repeatedly, and certainly not on such a calm day as today.
"It's almost like..." Orophin couldn't say.
"Footsteps." Haldir finished for him. "But of what I could not say." That thought alone disturbed him; in all his experience he had never come across anything like this. "Alert my Lord Celeborn, hurry." He whispered to his brother, who was reluctant to leave but Haldir hurried him along. "Go!"
Orophin scrambled away, leaving Haldir alone with whatever it was that was slowly drawing nearer, for it was approaching, the ground shaking with each 'step'. What beast or being it could be Haldir could only guess, and his bow was drawn in his hand, his keen eyes searching for any movement among the forest.
Wishing for a higher field of view, Haldir took the chance and quickly scrambled to a higher talan, nerves as taut as the bowstring in his fingers. Silence had now fallen, the strange crashing had stopped, and save for the barely perceptible breathing of the elf, there was no movement among the wood. Haldir paused a few moments longer, eyes narrowing as he thought he perceived eyes staring at him from among the branches. He would have laughed at his hallucinations if the situation were not so tense.
And if the eyes had not blinked, and a great head seemed to emerge from the very forest itself.
In his long life, Haldir had seen many things, but nothing had prepared him for this. Especially when the head seemed to twist to one side, and a merry laugh escaped from ruddy lips among dark skin. "There is no need to fear, little Elfling." A resonant voice told him as his fingers tightened on an arrow shaft. "I bring you a message, nothing more."
Haldir felt like a young elf, mouth open but no words seemed suitable for such a meeting as this, but someone else found the right utterance.
"Hail, and well met, one of the great Onodrim Elders."
Lord Celeborn of Lothlorien stepped forward, placing a brief hand on Haldir's shoulder to calm the nervous warden, and to ask him to step down his vigilance. He did so willingly, having not even heard his Lord's approach to the talan. "What brings you, Master Rowan tree to our humble boarders?"
"I bring a message from Fangorn, he apologises for the lack of his presence to you Lord, but matters require his attention at the Treegarth of Orthanc. Bregalad is my name, and here is my message."
A great hand extended upwards towards the elves, and within it they saw a great fallen limb of a mighty tree, which he placed with care upon the wooden talan. A brief frown creasing his brow, Celeborn knelt beside the great branch, investigating the marks that seemed to be imprinted in the bark.
"Fangorn asked that perhaps you would make replicas for him and pass his message on?" Bregalad mentioned as Celeborn began to read.
First make a copy of this letter and change the answers so they apply to you. Then send it to all the people you know. You may learn some interesting facts about your friends!
A smile of understanding met Celeborn's lips, as he traced the carved patterns beneath his fingers. How this madness had invaded the very forests of Fangorn, the Elf Lord did not dare to think, but he seemed to think that a hobbit might well be responsible. He looked up into the face of Bregalad once more.
"This message does indeed make sense to me, great Onodrim, and I will grant the Lord Fangorn's request." He bowed low to the Ent, which Bregalad looked upon with amusement. "Also," Celeborn added to his visitor, "You would be most welcome to remain amongst our borders for as long as you wish."
The Ent, seemed to sway as if in a breeze, and an amused chuckle escaped him. "My thanks, the trees here seem eager to talk." He laughed again. Celeborn bowed once more to Bregalad and the Ent turned and wandered, soon lost amongst the trees once more save for the quaking shake of his steps. Celeborn bent to read the rest of the strange message, Haldir and Orophin taking a look over their Lord's shoulders.
Name: Treebeard, Fangorn, of the Ents, or Onodrim, choose as you will.
Nicknames: I would put my entish name, but I fear it would take up all the room I have.
If you could build a house anywhere, where would it be? I have remained with my trees for some time now, but Orthanc is becoming a pleasant place to be. Perhaps there.
What is your favourite place to be? I'm not sure I have one. After all the ages I have lived, you start to lose track of all the places you have seen.
What is your least favourite place to be? Amongst the ruins of great trees I have watched grow. Always a tragedy.
What is the last good song you heard? The song of the ash trees at dusk yesterday.
What is your favourite colour? The brown of the soil, bark and leaf.
What is your favourite smell? The smell of change upon the air, but only if it is for good.
What is your favourite article of clothing? Clothing? I take no clothing but the bark as my skin and the leaves upon me.
What makes you angry? That no one cares for our forests anymore. I remind all I see to be concerned about their welfare, they can have a nasty temper when provoked I warn you.
What time do you wake up in the morning? The days mean little to me; the question should be when do I wake in the age. I have little need of sleep. It is more of a hibernation of sorts.
Can you juggle? I do not understand this word: juggle. How does one juggle exactly?
What would you hate to be left in a room with? Filthy, destroying little Orcs. There would not be many left with by the time I had finished though.
Is the goblet half empty or half full? The bowl should always be drained fully for a refilling; it should never be left half full.
What is the first thing you think when you wake up? Where have the field mice nested this time?
What is your favourite form of exercise? A stroll among gentle slopes towards my home.
Who do you have a crush on at the moment? I'm not sure I understand this question. I'm standing on a small green plant but I'm certainly not crushing it.
What have you got in your pocket? I don't understand this concept either. What is a pocket?
Who is most likely to respond to this letter? I did not think I should greet the Lord of Lothlorien again, but I never said I would never hear from him.
Who is least likely to respond to this letter? I should think the Entwives, but if anyone should see them, please do herd them back in my direction.
Celeborn personally made multiple copies of Fangorn's letter, making the right number of copies for those who would be interested in the Ent's answers. More than anything, it helped to distract him from thoughts of his wife. Even as he sat writing, he noticed her presence coming and going, making preparations for her departure from the shores that he intended to stay a little longer upon. He took a few moments from his inscribing to listen to her humming a forlorn tune, and not for the first time did a tear threaten to fall. Taking a breath he continued to write, now using his own answers to keep his grief at their parting at bay...
Ah, Celeborn's feeling a little low. Well, after two ages with your wife, wouldn't you be if she left? Anyway, hope Treebeard's answers were all satisfactory! Celeborn up next, or maybe I'll slip Gollum in... see if I get inspired! Tune in to see next time!!