Hi, I'm back again! Sorry for the long wait- school. Ick. But I like school. Our friends like Lord of the Rings, yes they do, Precious. They likeses it as much as we do.

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Never have, and probably never will.

'Most of the trees are just trees, of course; but many are half awake. Some are quite wide awake and a few are, well, ah, well, getting Entish. That is going on all the time. When that happens to a tree, you find that some have bad hearts.'- From 'The Two Towers,' chapter four- Treebeard

~*~

Quickbeam basked in the summer sunlight, waiting for Ellen to come. She came every day, now, and Quickbeam had begun to look forward to her visits. 'Hmm,' he thought, 'she is very faithful in coming to visit me now.' After the first encounter, she hadn't come anywhere near that clearing for about a month or so, too petrified of the living trees. That changed very quickly, though, after another encounter with one of the more malicious trees.

~*~

Ellen was incredibly proud of herself. She had given that stuffy babysitter the slip, and all on her own, too! She allowed herself a little self- satisfied smirk, and then wiped it off, her conscience and guilt getting the better of her. But, the darker side of her whispered, you haven't been outside for a while, and now that your mom is gone for the day, it's your day off too. I'll bet that that old lady will sleep for hours. Go on, keep going. How easily she succumbed to temptations like that.

She had been walking down one of the more familiar paths, drinking in the different shades of green and brown and the occasional bright flashes of birds flitting through the trees, when she stopped and stared at something that she had never seen before.

There, by a curve in the little dirt road, was a hollow, rotting tree that she had never seen before. It was giving off an awful sickly-sweet stench, like someone had drenched the wood with a mixture of vanilla scent and the smell that garbage trucks gave off. There were also odd depressions behind it, as if something large had walked over to it and then disappeared. Curious, she cautiously stepped over to it, still wary from that last meeting with that Brega-beam, whatever it was.

On closer inspection, she could see that, though the tree was hollow and decaying, there was no sign of anything like ant holes and chipmunk hoards. She reached out and tried to carefully take off a splinter of bark to scrutinize it a little more closely. Her mom hadn't cut her nails in a while, so she figured that it would be pretty easy to scrape off a small chunk. Sliding her fingernails easily under a crack, she tried to pry off a piece, but it was firmer than it looked. Now her fingernails were starting to hurt from the tension. Ellen tried to get her nails out, but, to her bewilderment and alarm, they were stuck. It was very strange, she mused, as that crack was larger when she put her fingernails in. It was as if they had shrunk- closed around her nails. Then she was hit by a thought with a shock- What if this tree was alive, too? What if it was like the one that had hit her? What if those odd depressions were really its tracks? What if-

But her brain didn't allow her to think of the possibilities. She panicked, and started tugging at her hands, trying to unstick the fingernails. The tree started to groan and creak, and the decaying branches moved, although there was no wind. Ellen started to pull harder, panic overwhelming the pain. With a sudden *shick* seven of her fingernails came out of the crack, and only the index finger of her right hand remained. The tree was groaning louder now. Other trees close by were starting to sway.

Ellen began to whimper. She hadn't ever been this frightened before. Something was stirring deep inside of her, like some sort of primeval instinct awakening from the past. Survival of the fittest. She could move faster than some old tree. What was one little fingernail? Fear would drown out the pain. Some deep feeling told her so.

She wildly jerked away, and felt her nail pull back, and then let go completely. She lost her balance and sprawled out on the ground. It was a moment before she realized that her full nail was still imbedded in the tree. She looked down at her finger, and saw that it was bleeding freely. There was crimson blood all over the path. Ellen felt nauseated, and clapped her left hand over her mouth. She staggered up, and that was when things became really terrifying.

An enormous branch dropped down by her side, just scant few feet away. She shrieked, and reeled back, only to have a second branch sideswipe her arm.

"MAMA!" Ellen cried. "MAMA, MAMA!" In the rain of branches and her panic, one small rational part of her brain told her that mama couldn't help her; she was gone for the day. But there was one that could help- she just needed his name. It was that rowan tree. What was his name? A small branch thumped on her shoulder. She fell again, and rolled out of the way of another one. Then she remembered.

"QUICKBEAM!" she screamed as loud as she could. "QUICKBEAM, QUICKBEAM, QUICKBEAM! HELP ME!" The branches kept coming. She wasn't sure if she could make it without being hit for too much longer- then she heard an angry bellow cut through the air. The wind ceased to blow, the branches stopped falling, and she heard, over her choking sobs, the crunch of heavy footsteps coming towards her.

She looked up and quivered, even though she knew Quickbeam was here to help her. At about fourteen feet high, striding towards her quickly, with angrily flashing eyes, she couldn't help but let out a little muffled squeak.

At that Quickbeam looked down and saw Ellen, nursing her various injuries. He gently scooped her up and placed her on a branch above his head. He turned his head towards the rotting tree and his eyes flashed, enraged that it had tried to hurt the young child that reminded him fondly of the past. He placed his gnarled hand flat on the trunk of the tree and murmured something. Ellen liked the sound of his voice when he spoke this time. Instead of reminding her of an old man, now it reminded her of trees in the breeze and ageless things growing and growing, content to do nothing more.

The rotting tree gave a heavy shudder and the sickly-sweet scent left. Ellen thought that the air seemed- lighter, somehow. As if a heavy presence had been lifted away. Quickbeam turned and strode off, back to his normal pace. They walked for a while, and then he spoke.

"Hmm, I haven't felt so hasty for a while," he murmured. "I think that I shall need a drink."

"Of what?" Ellen asked, still a bit wary.

"Ent-draught, of course," he said. He glanced up and saw her finger. "And by the look of it, you might need some too, little one."

They passed the rest of the time in silence, Ellen glancing at the trees nervously, and Quickbeam humming to himself. Very soon, they were at the place where Ellen had first climbed him, the wide clearing with the little and a mossy stone in the middle. For the first time, Ellen noticed that there was a circle of rowan trees around the clearing. Quickbeam set her down on the mossy rock and picked up two earthen vessels, one large and one small. He turned his back to her, but Ellen could see he was ladling something into the vessels. When he turned around again, he handed Ellen the smaller bowl. She wondered what he meant for her to do with it.

"Hmm, drink it!" he said when he saw Ellen's hesitation. "It will help you."

Ellen couldn't see how drinking something would help a missing fingernail, a cut on the arm, and a welt on her shoulder. She shrugged, winced at the pain in her shoulder, and then started to sip at it. It didn't taste like anything she knew (which wasn't a lot- she usually stuck stubbornly to macaroni and cheese, pizza, and peanut butter toast), and yet she knew it well, at the same time. It tasted of a light breeze, the smell of rain made solid. A delightful tingle began to run up her body, starting at her feet, then working her way up. She stifled a sound that was halfway between a giggle and a shriek, and then stared in amazement at her maimed finger. The oddest feeling was dancing up and down the tissues. It was as if there were tiny people hopping around and shaking with laughter around in there. And there was something hard coming up- under the blood on her finger, before her very eyes, a new fingernail was sprouting!

On her shoulder, there was the oddest pressure- she pulled back her sleeve and saw that the welt was sinking back into her skin, as if it had never existed. The same thing was happening to her cuts and bruises. Her hair, which had previously been a thick, unruly tangle that came down to her shoulders was now about an inch longer.

Before long, she felt back to normal. No- she was *better* than normal- she didn't feel as tired as she usually did from staying up late, playing in her room when her mom thought she was asleep.

"What was that?" she asked curiously.

"Hm? Oh, it was an Ent-draught," said Quickbeam. "It helps mortals like you heal and grow, while it is the drink that sustains us."

"What's an Ent? I've never heard that word before."

"I am an Ent, a herder of the trees and a shepherd of the forest."

A little giggle escaped Ellen. "How can you herd trees if they don't move? That sounds silly."

"Ah, but some trees do move, as you have seen, youngling. You should be wary; I think that you should not roam around alone anymore. Some of the trees hearts are getting blacker, as you have seen. They will harm you, if they can. If you wish to walk around the forest alone, come to me. I will go with you, or try to be nearby. The trees will not harm you if I am near."

Ellen sat quietly for a while, thinking about the new information she had just been given. That explained a lot. She was obviously deliberating something of great importance. Finally, she drew herself up to her full height (which wasn't too much, in her opinion), and said, "I think I should go back now."

"Yes, you must be missed by now. Would you like me to come?"

"Yes, please."

Quickbeam, who was walking slower than usual to make sure Ellen matched his pace, and Ellen walked for a while in a somewhat companionable silence until the end of the forest was in sight, and Ellen could see the light- blue siding of her house. Before she left, Ellen had one last thing to say.

"Quickbeam?"

"Yes, little one?"

"Thank you." She turned, as if to go home, and then stopped and faced him to tell him the conclusion of her thinking.

"I like you. You're good." Ellen broke into a brilliant, gap-toothed smile, turned on her heel, and fled back to her house, where, hopefully, that old babysitter was still asleep.

~*~

Quickbeam smiled fondly at this memory, and then was brought out of his thoughts by the noisy rustling and snapping of dead twigs underfoot that always heralded Ellen's arrival.

"Hi!" She said happily. "Your tree-friends did me a favor. Look!" She opened her small mouth wide and Quickbeam saw a tiny, bloody gap in her teeth.

"They knocked it out for me!" she exclaimed, displaying a small tooth in the palm of her hand.

"Why is that a good thing?" Quickbeam was still puzzled about this little child and her culture. Over the centuries, Men had forgotten about Ents. When all of the Elves had left, Men had also dismissed them as a fairy tale, and turned them into tiny, humorous magical beings. The same thing had happened to Balrogs and dragons and Orcs. Men evolved into an almost entirely different species, though they looked the same. But some of them still displayed evil tendencies, like the men of the South and East had in the past. And many still held no regard for the trees. Very few Ents still remembered the times when Ents could walk from the Old Forest to Fangorn without ever leaving the trees. Quickbeam couldn't remember. All of the time, the forests were shrinking more and more.

"Because I get money for the tooth!" she giggled, startling him out of his musings yet again. "I'll put it under my pillow when I go to sleep, and when I wake up, the tooth fairy will have left money for me!" Her face grew serious, like she was thinking. "What does she do with all of those teeth, anyways? And where does she get the money? The older kids tell me that she broke into Fort Knox to get the money, but I don't believe them. Did you ever get money for your teeth when you were little?"

Quickbeam smiled at her endless stream of chatter. 'If only she knew how long ago I was young,' he thought. "No," he said aloud. "We do not need money in the forest, remember?"

"Oh," she said. "That's right. I forgot." She hummed a wordless tune and then started to climb up into his branches. Once she was settled in, she cried out, "Let's go!" and they set off for another walk among the green leaves of the forest.

~*~

Okay. I have officially decided that I am posting this chapter in honor of Frodo and Bilbo Baggins, because their birthdays are on September 22! I only just realized it today. Now, to respond!

SirusBlackRules: I got that image of poor Frodo stuck in your head? Man, I feel so evil. I hate that image, too, but I can't help thinking about it. And you have your wish- the orcs that took everything from him *did* die! They got into a huge fight over him and they all killed each other, except for maybe two or three of them.

shirebound: Thank you so much! I didn't expect a review from you! I love your work! The thought of Ents and hobbits and Elves, and if they still exist, fascinates me.

LalaithoftheBruinen: Thank you! And I have a few plans regarding upcoming chapters- I get them from walking around in the woods behind my house and thinking.

Elberethia: It's never happened to me, either. All in the woods in my house, it's mainly coniferous trees. They have good branches, but all of them are high in the air and hard to reach. I wish it would happen, though. But sometimes the trees outside my window look like they're waving at me occasionally.

ShireElf: Well, I thought of how Tolkien writes in the beginning of FotR as if hobbits were still around. You know, how they're not seen very often by us because they are less numerous and very adept at hiding? I kind of thought about that, and said, "Well, if hobbits can hide from us, then what's to say that we haven't noticed Ents because they look so much like trees?" And since Treebeard said that none of the Ents have ever died from old age, then I just sort of assumed that maybe there would still be some around, if they hadn't followed to ill chances over the years. Do you get it?

Black Waltz 0: Yay! I got a review from you *and* Oddeye! I'm still trying to figure out who he really is, by the way.

heather: Don't worry, I plan to keep this going for a bit. Thanks! I'm so glad that there are so many people that like this!

Thank you so much for reviewing! I'd like some more comments on this chapter. Bye!