The Fellowship ran as fast as they could through the forest for their lives. They could hear the bushes behind them rustle and emit distinct screeches and roars. All most of the Fellowship could think about was running away and staying alive. Merry, however, was concerned with the treetops.

"Help! Help!"

Merry and Legolas skidded to a stop and saw that Pippin had run himself right into a thick bush. In his panic, he dropped the Horn of Gondor. Legolas dashed forward to protect him and try to get him out of the bush.

Merry had dove down, narrowly avoiding an Orc blade, and took hold of the Horn. He got back up to stare into the empty eyes of a Neo. Time seemed to freeze as he looked into the eyes of the soulless demon.

"Merry, run!" Aragorn's voice rang through the air. He called out to the rest of his group. "Keep running! If you stop, they'll get you!"

The trees flashed by as they all sprinted through the forest. Legolas was helping Pippin run since the Hobbit was more injured than the rest. He started to feel weak from the blood loss.

"Legolas... I can't go on... Too weak..."

"No!" he said firmly. "You are not giving up now, Pippin." His eyes landed on a tall oak tree and took him to it. "Go, climb. You'll be safe up there."

Pippin weakly climbed up the ancient tree as best as he could. Below him, he could hear sounds of combat. The only way he could tell the different parties apart was the glinting of the weapons. His friends' weapons winked in the silver moonlight and Frodo's Sting glowed a shimmering blue that was incredibly vivid against the dark background. He could see another small body near Frodo himself. He watched as a knot of Neos, on command by their handler, advanced menacingly.

"Merry! Frodo!" he yelled out to them. He wildly looked around and saw that all of his friends were in danger. Aragorn, Gandalf and Gimli were trying desperately to fight the Neos and Orcs to get to Frodo and Merry. Legolas below him was shooting several arrows at once and all hit their targets. Even in his tree, he could faintly hear him cursing distinctly in Elvish.

"Help, somebody! Anybody! Help!"

"Hrrrm?"

A low, deep voice came from the tree he was in. He felt the bark under him shift without a wind in the air. He looked beside him and discovered that he was sitting next to a face in the tree.

"What's this? Fighting? In my forest?"

The battle stopped immediately and all eyes turned to the trees themselves. Legolas, who was fighting at the foot of the tree, froze. He looked up at the branches just as one of the main branches flew down. He watched it, too amazed to move, as the branch swung right next to him and sent the Neos and Orcs flying.

The Dark creatures scattered and started to run towards the edge of the forest. Unfortunately for them, the tree literally uprooted itself and chased them for a while, stomping on several of them in the process. It seemed almost oblivious to the fact that a Hobbit was next to its face.

"Hrrmmff," snorted the tree. "For five thousand years I have not seen the likes of such damned creatures." The tree talked very slowly and thoughtfully. Behind him, by the grove of trees, the Fellowship looked at the tree with awe. "Nor have I seen such brave things in my midst."

When it turned around to address the Fellowship, it noticed a small, bleeding body next to its face. "Oh-ho? What do I have here in my branches?"

"A Hobbit," replied Pippin. He could feel the numbness of his left arm. "A Hobbit originally from the Shire."

A sound of interest was heard. "A Hobbit? Ah, yes, the halflings that came from the lands of the Old Forest, yes, I remember. There were two of them."

Merry stepped into view and gave the Horn to Aragorn. In a clear, loud voice, he called out to the tree. "It's us, Treebeard. Don't you remember us traveling to Saruman's?"

"Yes, yes I do," rumbled the Ent. "It is quite hard to forget a gathering of the Ents and their rage."

Just then, Pippin finally lost consciousness and slipped off the branches. The rest of the Fellowship dashed out to catch him but, luckily, Treebeard caught him and set him safely on the ground. He looked at the Fellowship, one by one, with mild surprise.

"There are more of you now," he remarked. "Much more than before." He paused for a moment. Gandalf and Aragorn took the opportunity to mix some herbs to save Pippin. Treebeard watched them for a minute before asking, "Who are you?"

They all exchanged glances and Merry spoke up again. His and Frodo's eyes kept darting to Pippin's body through the gaps between Aragorn and Gandalf.

"Well, you already know me, Pip and Gandalf..."

"Hrmm... yes, yes, the good wizard."

He waved his hand to his fellow Hobbit, "This is my cousin, Frodo..." His hand pointed to him, "that is Gimli, a Dwarf..." He then presented the others. "This is the Elf-prince, Legolas and Aragorn of Gondor is right by your fe-- uh, roots. Master Sam, another Hobbit, is at our home, keeping watch over something."

Slowly and with groans of his bark and branches, he bent down to inspect Aragorn, Gandalf and, finally, Pippin.

"A man and a wizard both try to the extent of their abilities to save the life of a mere halfling?" Treebeard smiled with warmth. "How touching."

"With all due respect, Master Ent," said Aragorn, "he is not a mere halfling. He is a dear friend to us and a valued member of our Fellowship."

"No offense meant, Lord Aragorn." He picked some moss off from the top of his trunk. "I think it is truly admirable that the halflings have such friends like this Fellowship.

"Here," Treebeard said as he lowered the moss to Aragorn. He then reached deep into his bushy beard and withdrew several small berries. "Mix these with the moss in some water. If he drinks this, his wound will heal faster and he'll be as good as new. It's an old Entish potion that the Elves taught us."

Gandalf and Aragorn did as he said and the bleeding was visibly less than before. They could even see some clotting in his wound.

"Let's just hope he doesn't get gangrene and need an amputation," muttered Aragorn.

"I'm sure he wouldn't like that," said Gandalf. As Aragorn dressed Pippin's wound with Treebeard still looking on, he called to the others. "He's going to be okay!"

Frodo and Merry, who were both very anxious and holding onto each other for support, let out a large sigh of relief and went to them to check on Pippin. Gimli, who had been watching the Ent very nervously, was being coaxed by Legolas to go closer to the tree-shepherd.

"Come on," begged Legolas. "He's a tree. Yes, he walks and talks, but he's still a tree. That means he's peaceful and won't get angry with you provided you don't raise that axe of yours."

"I saw him in action just now, my Elvish friend, and I'm well aware of this particular tree's abilities," said Gimli. He was being quite careful to keep his axe down.

"A mountain can easily kill you with an avalanche," argued Legolas, "and yet you Dwarves live in them."

"Mountains don't walk; nor do they have conversations with us. This tree does."

Legolas opened his mouth to retort but found nothing to say to that. Instead, he said, "Good point."

"Ah, so I have an Elf of the Noldorin in my forest," Treebeard said with interest. "We Ents owe you our gratitude."

"Oh, um, actually," began Legolas, "I'm not of the Noldorin." He seemed astounded that one as ancient as Treebeard would mistake him for a Noldorin.

"Hrrm?" Treebeard's grassy eyebrows went up with surprise. "You are not? Hrm, hrm. I apologize. I must have mistaken you for another."

"Perhaps," said the Elf, reverting back to his old self for a few moments, "but I am Prince Legolas of Greenwood the Great. My father was King Thranduil. During the War of the Ring, our woodland is called Mirkwood. You've heard of it, possibly?"

"Yes, yes, I remember properly now. I have heard of you before the War of the Ring. If my memory serves me right, you had longer hair then."

Merry chuckled and looked straight up to Treebeard's face. "He had MUCH longer hair back then, Treebeard. All of us look fairly different now, don't we?"

"Hrrm, of course, of course," he said. He settled into a more comfortable position that caused a lot of creaking and rustling of his branches and leaves. "Time makes us all change, no matter who or what we are."

"It does," agreed Gandalf. Next to him, Aragorn took off his cloak and covered Pippin with it like a blanket. "But when fate interferes with time, it does very strange things."

At the confused but piqued look of the Ent's bark face, he launched into the story of their past starting with the end of the War of the Ring to him. The younger members of the Fellowship listened intently to him with Treebeard because it was about the past after they had all died.

"After the One Ring was destroyed, Sauron, of course, was easily defeated," Gandalf began heavily. "The forces of Middle-Earth rejoiced about the passing of the Dark Lord but I was deeply worried throughout the initial celebrations. I had quickly noticed that Aragorn was not among the army of Men nor was he with the Elves. I had asked around the whole force if they had seen him but no one had.

"A search party was formed at once. They searched high and low for him but, once again, he was not found. Someone brought up the theory that he might have been with the Elf-prince Legolas and his friend, Gimli the Dwarf. So, they searched again, looking for them in hope that they would be found.

"Once more, they were missing. They could not be found. Eventually, the truth dawned in everybody's mind, though we didn't want to believe it: they were dead.

"I swiftly ordered a search for their bodies and for the young hobbits, Meriadoc and Peregrin. I had hoped against hope that they would be found.

"What a fool I was," he said bitterly. "How could I have expected to find their bodies intact? How could I have thought that I would have seen the laughing, happy faces of the hobbits again after such a savage war?"

"No, Gandalf," Treebeard said soothingly, "it would have been foolish of you not to hope, not to wish to see your friends again. It is wise to believe that friendship and love outlasts the carnage of war."

"Tell that to Arwen," Aragorn said quietly.

"I apologize if I open old wounds," said Treebeard, "but, who is this Arwen?"

"Patience, my good Ent," Gandalf said gently, "I will explain in due time.

"I had sent out scouts at the break of dawn on that day. They never returned until after sundown. Throughout the day, I prayed to the Valar that my dear comrades were well, that I had drawn the world of Middle-Earth into despair and grief of the passing of the King of Men and his Fellowship in needless worry.

"But, the grief was truth. The scouts who came back first brought with them the Sword of Kings, a splintered Elvish bow and a broken axe made with the skill and fashion of the Dwarves. They handed the weapons to me and the leaders of Men and Elves in Lorien cloaks soaked in blood. I wept for our loss.

"I still had a small hope that the hobbits would return. Alas, a mere hour after we had received the sorrowful package, the second group of scouts returned with two smaller cloaks of Lorien, along with daggers that was given by the Lady Galadriel. I wept once more. I lost hope.

"Frodo and Sam still stood in my mind until the scouts from Mount Doom came back. They used their tracking skills and found how they had jumped over the edge into the fire. Once again, a deep despair flooded my mind and soul.

"I took it upon myself to inform the realms of Middle-Earth of its losses. I went with Elrohir and Elladan to the forest of Mirkwood and told King Thranduil of the death of his son. The funeral for Legolas lasted over a year although the pain never fully disappeared in the Mirkwood Elves.

"I went to the Dwarves alone. I told Gloin the sad news myself. In a state of rage and denial, he cast me out of his realm. During my remaining time in Middle-Earth, I never went back.

"When I arrived at Rivendell, the Lady Arwen was already distraught. Elladan and Elrohir had tried to tell her of Aragorn's death, but she had refused to believe them. Her love for him was so deep that she wanted to hold onto every last memory of him without letting go. She knew that the love was mutual.

"I remember all too well how her heart was shattered when I told her it was true. She ran from my sight full of sad tears. I tried to comfort her whenever I saw her, but that was a rare occurrence in itself. I left the citadel of Rivendell a few weeks afterward with a heavy heart.

"I journeyed to the Shire to inform the town of Hobbiton about their loss of four admirable Hobbits. They took the news very hard, indeed. They had no idea that four Hobbits had left the Shire for an adventure to protect the world, including their homes. A solemn celebration was held at Bag-End, as a lasting memorial of Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin. The whole Shire knew of the loss and a lot of them attended the memorial.

"Of course, after a few rounds of the Hobbit brew, some of the older Hobbits' tongues grew loose and their more traditional thoughts came out. It created a bit of a riot, if I may say so myself."

Frodo quickly explained to the rest of the Company, to refresh their minds, about the anti-adventure nature of most Hobbits.

"After my visit to Hobbiton," continued Gandalf, "I wandered the Wild once again. Soon, I felt that Middle-Earth no longer needed me. However, before I left it, I fully understood what an impact the loss of the Fellowship had on the world.

"It was as if a bright star in the sky had dimmed. The corners of Middle- Earth had almost united in an international feeling of grief. But, the Elves still continued to leave the shores, despite the loss of Legolas. With the death of Gimli, the Dwarves virtually disappeared because of Gloin's anger. Men were forced to continue their lives however they could without their King. Eventually, a new king was elected and a Golden Age of Men was ushered in, although it would have been much more sweeter if it was led by Aragorn.

"The Hobbits continued their way of isolated life, not caring about the rest of the world and its ways. Every year, however, they paused to remember the four who had given their lives for them. But they were the least affected.

"The one who was most affected Arwen. Her love was met with an unprecedented death. She had nothing to live for. She couldn't live with the Elves, after knowing her true love and she couldn't live as a mortal and try to love another. So, she took her own life."

Aragorn's eyes widened with shock of this news. He had never known this about Arwen but he knew that he never asked because he didn't really want to know.

"I'm sorry, Aragorn," murmured Frodo.

"It's in the ancient past," sighed Aragorn.

"Hrm, hrm," said Treebeard. "Very interesting, Gandalf. But, tell me, why are you here now, after five thousand years and after many, many Ages?"

With the help of the boys, he told the Ent everything that had happened since that carefree, innocent first day of school at S. J. Carnil.

"I see," Treebeard said grimly. "The events that happened in the past are being reflected in the present. That is most unfortunate, indeed, hrm."

"So you'll help us?" Merry asked hopefully.

"Hrrmmmmm," rumbled Treebeard, deep in thought about the predicament. On the one side, he would be helping his friends from the past push back the forces of Darkness. On the other side, the Darkness hadn't done anything to the Ents or the forest. He pondered for what he thought was a moment.

"I've made a decision," he announced.

"How long has it been?" Aragorn muttered to Legolas. "An hour?"

"An hour and a half, more like," he replied. He looked around and saw that the Hobbits and Gimli were already sleeping.

"What is your decision, Treebeard?" Gandalf asked him.

"I have decided that I need to call an Entmoot. It is something that has not happened for a very, very long time." With that, he headed deeper into the forest.

"What's an Entmoot?" wondered Aragorn.

As the night wore on, Gandalf and Legolas told him about the tree- shepherds. Eventually, they all lay down on the grass and slept under the never-changing stars.