Chapter 2: Rowan
Pippin awoke the next morning much earlier than he would have expected. By the look of the sky, the sun had fully risen, but only a sliver of it could yet be seen over the tall trees surrounding the ent-house for miles around. If he raised his head a bit, he could just barely make out the form of a dark chestnut-coloured horse standing among the rowan trees. Merry was still fast asleep next to him; his peaceful face suggested to Pippin that his friend would not be voluntarily waking up any time soon. Turning to look over his other shoulder, the hobbit's gaze set upon the reason for his untimely departure from sleep: Rowan was seated next to him, humming softly, and gently fingering the corner of his grey Lórien cloak.
"Elvish," she said.
"So is yours," Pippin replied, recognizing the style of the design embroidered along the hem of her gown, the same one as before.
"Mirkwood," Rowan smiled, nodding.
"Lórien."
What a conversation, he thought, chuckling inwardly. This did not, however, keep him from noticing Rowan's eyes widen ever so slightly at his mention of Lórien. "What is it?" He asked.
"Nothing," she answered. "It is just that I have never heard of the Lord and Lady allowing anyone but their own kind past their borders alive." She had an expression on her face that suggested she wanted to hear more about it, but Pippin made no move to answer.
"You're an Elf, then?" He said, almost to himself.
"No."
"Ma― er, Woman?"
"Physically," she said, with a tone that almost sounded like disgust, "but I have never been among them. If I have ever needed something― clothing, weapons, food I cannot get myself― I have gone to the Elves, and even that is rare. Otherwise, I stay in the forest. It is my home."
Pippin thought about this for a moment, but he couldn't help but wonder about one thing. "But if you've never been among Men before, than where are you from? You can't have simply popped up out of the ground one day like a weed." But Rowan only smiled mysteriously, and hopped up to stand by the spring. Pippin turned to Bregalad, who had been standing a few meters away, listening to the two. "Right?"
"At the time," Bregalad laughed, "she seemed to have done just that. She was found as an infant just inside the borders of the Forest. We Ents do not associate with the Men of Rohan, and so it was decided to keep her here. Rowan is the closest we have had to an Enting in quite some time, and we enjoy watching her grow as our child, or as much of one as can be since the leaving of the Entwives."
Pippin looked over at Rowan, suddenly understanding why she was so unlike all the other Big People he had met since leaving the Shire. She now stood by the horse, gently stroking its neck, and was still smiling serenely. Again Pippin had a prickle of recognition in the back of his mind, but he could not yet figure out why it seemed so familiar. "How long has it been since she was found?"
"Oh, several winters," said Bregalad.
"How many is 'several'? Twenty, maybe?"
"Perhaps one or two less than that," the Ent replied. "It was late summer when she was found, though, so my count may be off."
Pippin nodded, lost in thought. So she was a bit younger than twenty. If she were a hobbit, she would barely be an adolescent. He pushed himself into a standing position, and walked over to where Rowan and the horse stood. He looked up into the tall, proud creature's face, and could see something deep and intelligent shining behind its dark eyes. This was no simple little pony. This was a great, noble beast, for whom the word 'animal' could never suffice.
"Is this Lasbereth?" He asked, still in awe of the steed before him.
"Indeed," Rowan nodded. "This is she, the only piece of the world of Men I have with me."
"How did she come to you?"
"She was found wandering along the edge of the Forest a few summers ago, not far from where I myself was discovered. Someone recognized the harness she wore as one of the Riders of Rohan, but there was no Man in sight. It was assumed that he had been killed." Rowan raised a pale hand to Lasbereth's face, and brushed a few stray locks of dark chocolate mane away from the mare's eyes. "Lasbereth has been my dearest friend for some time." Pippin could see a love in the girl's eyes that made him think of Sam's beloved pony, Bill. He hadn't thought of Sam, or indeed, Frodo, in some time, but now the memory of them pressed on his mind. He wondered where they were, and if they were still tracing a path to Mordor.
Pippin stood in silence, pondering this for some time, before his train of thought was broken by sounds of Merry stirring from his deep sleep. It seemed that the sun had finally risen high enough above the trees to awaken the other hobbit. Soon Merry was standing next to Pippin, blinking and stretching.
"What have I missed?" He murmured sleepily, looking from Pippin to Rowan and back. But Pippin simply shrugged, and Rowan continued to smile furtively as she rubbed Lasbereth's nose.
*************
The three spent most of the morning together, either in the ent-house or wandering the woods near it. Even when they seemed to have strayed far enough from the circle of rowan trees that Merry and Pippin began to feel lost, Rowan was always able to walk a few paces in some seemingly random direction, and the two hobbits could catch a comforting glimpse of the rock on which they had spent the night. The first few times this happened, Rowan was as patient as she seemed to be with everything else, but after a bit, she was incredulous.
"How can you feel lost?" She said, amazed. "This is the fifth time it has happened in this very spot! Surely you recognize it by now?"
But both hobbits shook their heads. "It all looks the same to us," Merry explained.
"How?" Rowan gaped. "No two trees look the same. Each one is very much distinct. It's impossible to mistake one tree for another, unlike men, I've heard."
Merry and Pippin sighed, not wanting to argue over something like what trees looked like, and did not mention feeling lost again. Instead the conversation moved to their home. Rowan was fascinated with their description of the Shire, but said over and over that it would frighten her to be in such an open place.
"I have problems with wide open spaces," she explained. "I am better with the comforting darkness of the forest. Before the coming of Lasbereth, I did not fare well with great amounts of sunlight either, and stuck to the thicker parts of the forest. Even now, I only travel to the world of the Elves under the cover of darkness." She took a moment to laugh before again speaking. "I remember the first time I visited the Elves. I did not yet know enough of the language to explain who I was and where I was from, and so they named me 'night-maiden'. Some still call me by that name, Dúwen."
"You seem to have many names," Merry remarked. "Why do you choose to be known as nothing more than Rowan?"
Rowan smiled. "For a number of reasons, Master Meriadoc," she said. "Most obviously, I go by Rowan to honor Bregalad's trees. Of all the Ents, he is perhaps the one that I can most associate as a 'father' to me, and I am pleased to bear the name of his beloved rowan trees that were so brutally slaughtered. But, more than that, the name Rowan simply feels undeniably right. I do not know why."
Both Merry and Pippin had begun to notice that, as the day went on, Rowan was speaking faster. Indeed, before midday, she carried on conversation at the same pace they did. By that time, talk had turned to what circumstances had brought two hobbits to the outskirts of Fangorn. Merry and Pippin, constantly interrupting one another, told their tale, conveniently leaving out all mention of the One Ring. Rowan seemed a bit skeptical, especially after their description of hobbits, but did not press the matter of exactly why a troupe representing the Free Peoples of Middle Earth had gone on a journey, and was constantly assailed by the dark forces.
It was at this time that Merry and Pippin invited Rowan to talk about herself. Merry had yet to hear any explanation of who she was, and Pippin only had Bregalad's brief summary of her life.
"You really want to hear this?" Rowan asked, smiling dubiously. Both hobbits nodded feverishly. "All right then," she sighed, and with a bit of a smile, began to softly sing.
~*~
Author's Note: Well then, there's Chapter Two. I'm glad that it turned out a bit longer than the first. It may be a little while before I post Chapter Three, due to finals, and (mainly) I have to write Rowan's Song now.
Special thanks to my reviewers, Miss Cassi and Elessar*Lover. I'm honored that you took the time to write a review.