Sheltered by a Tree, or, The Sound of Rain
The sound of the rain was different outside.
Edmund leaned back against the solid oak trunk, closing his eyes and listening. It didn't sound like one noise, but hundreds—a soft, quiet noise of water slowly falling. He let the sound settle in his ears, his mind. He needed it, after the Dwarf accused him, in front of his family—
He drowned the memory of those words in the gentle sound of the rain, blinking fiercely.
But the rain no longer fell on him.
He looked up, seeing the branches of the tree he leaned against gathering overhead, and then he felt two long and brown hands cradle his shoulders.
"Rain is not as good for Sons of Adam as it is for Dryads, your Majesty."
"It might be today," Edmund responded hoarsely. Despite the shelter the old man offered, water still fell down his cheeks.
The Dryad was silent for a moment. "Listen, my King. Listen to the rain." Edmund took a deep breath and listened, listened to the sound of falling water gently touching every leaf, every branch, every blade of grass, and sinking into the earth, bringing it to life. "Rain is not the sound of crying. It is the sound of life." The Dryad reached out one long arm, letting the rain fall on his hand. "But rain or tears, the falling water often brings release." He brought the hand back, wrapping it around Edmund and holding him close. "Cry, my King. I will hold you till you stop."