Chapter Twenty Six: Entwives and Random Hugs

DISCLAIMER: A deadly combination of finals, running out of my favorite coffee brand, and a newfound love of Firefly have made updating this story plummet to the bottom of my 'To do or Die' list for the past few weeks. It's back up there now though :)

Random Quote: "Dear Icebergs: Sorry to hear about the global warming. Enjoy the Karma. Sincerely, the Titanic". ~dearblankpleaseblankdotcom

Somewhere in the heart of Fangorn Forest, Adonnenniel woke to the sound of bickering hobbits.

"I've always been taller than you!"

"Pippin, everyone knows I'm the tall one. You're the short one."

"Please, Merry. You're what? Three foot six? Whereas me, I'm pushing three foot seven."

At this point, Adonnenniel heard a loud belching noise.

"Three foot eight!"

"Merry, don't drink it!"

And so on. Adonnenniel groaned, and rolled over onto her side. She put her hands over her ears in a vain attempt to block out the noise. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it registered that she should probably get up and figure out what the heck was going on. The hobbits sounded like they were on something elicit, after all. But a combination of laziness and apathy made the decision for her, and Adonnenniel closed her eyes again. She managed to snag a few minutes of sleep before a very rude awakening.

"Adonnenniel?" Something prodded her back, and she nearly screamed.

"You scared the beejezus out of me, Merry!" she huffed.

Merry looking confused. "Did she really sleep through that?" he whispered to Pippin.

"Sleep through what?" Adonnenniel asked. She yawned loudly, and forced herself to stand up. The second she stood, something thick and branchy wrapped itself around her, and before she knew it she was being picked up by a certain Ent.

"Hey, Treebeard," she said. "You know, I think we need to work on our morning routine. I'm not down with the whole picking me up without warning right after I wake up thing. I mean, yeah, it's a whole heck of a lot more effective at waking me up than my alarm clock back home, but it also makes my stomach feel like it got left on the wrong end of a roller coaster after eating too much pizza."

Treebeard appeared not to have heard her. He addressed Merry and Pippin. "It isn't safe, young hobbits. The trees have grown wild and dangerous. Anger festers in their hearts. They will harm you if they can. There are too few of us Ents left to manage them now."

"Why are there so few of you? Aren't there any Ent children?" Pippin added.

Treebeard spoke sadly. "There have been no Entings for a terrible long count of years."

"Why's that?" Adonnenniel asked, curious despite herself.

"We lost the Entwives," Treebeard said.

"Wait…does that mean that they died?" Adonnenniel asked, thoroughly confused.

"Die? No. We lost them. And now we cannot find them…I don't suppose…"

"What?" Adonnenniel shrieked, cutting him off. "How do you just loose a bunch of tree women! That makes no sense, buddy."

Treebeard seemed surprised. "I thought most folk knew that. There were songs about the hunt of the Ents for the Entwives sung among Elves and Men. They cannot be quite so forgotten."

"I'm afraid these songs have not reached us in the Shire," Merry said. "Won't you tell us some more? Sing us a song, perhaps?"

"Yes," said Treebeard, sounding pleased with the request. "But I cannot tell it properly, only in short, and then we must end our talk. Tomorrow we have councils to call, work to do, and maybe a journey to begin."

And so Adonnenniel listened as Treebeard launched into a strange and sorrowful tale. When he had finished, she leaned back, and said, "If I ever see any Entwives, I'll let you know, Treebeard."

"What do they look like?" Pippin asked.

"I don't remember now…" Treebeard replied.

"Well," Adonnenniel said, her voice dripping with slightly contemptuous logic, "I imagine that they would look like giant trees, like the male Ents, except more…feminine."

"What makes a tree more feminine?" Merry wondered out loud.

Adonnenniel threw up her hands. "I don't know! Maybe they, like, have softer bark and lighter leaves."

The hobbits gave her a you're crazy look. An awkward silence ensued.

Finally, Merry said, "Well, I guess you'd just have to ask them."

Pippin rolled his eyes. "You can't just go around asking every Ent if they're a girl."

"Yeah!" Adonnenniel earnestly agreed. "What if they're in drag? You could seriously offend them."

"…Drag?" Pippin said.

"Um, never mind…"

And so the awkward conversations continued as such throughout the day. The author feels worried that she might bore her readers if she were to detail their bizarre conversations on music taste, Disney Princess movies, much needed haircuts, culinary preferences and many other things involving the food pyramid in some way. So, the author dutifully concluded this spontaneous tangent referring to herself in the third person paragraph, and moved onto Estela's point of view…

Estela woke up sometime later that night, and had a very strange sense of de ja vu. The olive green curtains were drawn, the door was shut, and the wooden table held another plate of assorted fruits and bread. A plain brown dress lay draped over the edge of her bed.

She didn't want to get out of bed, but knew that she probably should. Her mattress just so was comfortable and warm. A brief memory of waking up in the morning for high school flashed through her mind. She had the same groggy, unwilling feeling right now. With a heavy sigh, she forced herself to abandon the heavenly comfort of her mattress and groggily stumbled out of bed. She picked up the dress, feeling its soft material. It was a simple dress, short sleeved and long, with a sharply cut V-neck. Beneath the dress lay a white cotton shirt with long sleeves that tapered off at the ends.

Estela eyed the combination warily, trying to figure out if she was supposed to put the dress or the shirt on first. After mulling over this dilemma for a moment, she undressed, and settled on putting the white shirt on over the dress. Next, she went into the washroom and splashed cold water on her face, which definitely succeeded in waking her up a bit. Lying on the countertop was a brush. She ran it through her hair, which was quite tangled and uncooperative. It took her a full fifteen minutes to finishing wrestling with all the knots.

Five minutes later, she walked out of her room and closed the door behind her. She turned around, and then realized she had no idea what part of the humongous house she was in. She looked left and right, down each hallway, but they both looked the same. They stretched into the distance and bore elaborate paintings of horses. Suddenly distracted, Estela approached one of the paintings, marveling at the intricate detail and the beauty of the horse depicted. It was majestic and white, its limbs sturdy and its muscles distinct. It had an aloof stance, its tail flicked slightly in the air and its nose turned upwards.

Suddenly, Estela heard footsteps against the hard brick floor, and whirled around. Eowyn stood at the other end of the hall, watching her. She was holding an unsheathed sword, and looked flushed.

"You seem intent upon that picture," she noted. "Do you like horses?"

"Yes," Estela sighed. "And it's been too long since I've ridden one. I take care of several back home."

"Estela?" Eowyn said suddenly.

"Yes?"

"Your…Your attire." She sounded quite bewildered.

"What about it?"

"I…I am unsure of how to otherwise phrase this, but you have put your undergarment on top of your dress."

Estela looked down at herself, and saw that what she thought had been a plain cotton shirt had two loose areas on her chest. "Oh!" she said, before bursting out laughing. "I didn't know it was an undergarment!"

Eowyn smiled tentatively, looking vastly relieved. "I feared for a moment that it may have been a sort of…custom…from where you came."

Estela nearly fell over laughing. "No, not at all! The clothes here are just really different from what I'm used to."

Eowyn tentatively joined in with her laughter, looking enormously relieved. "We should return to your room so I can assist you in dressing properly. I can tell you also failed to tighten the strings on the back of your dress. It hangs loosely on you."

"What?" Estela said. "There were strings? I didn't even notice!" She chuckled. "This is ridiculous."

They returned to Estela's room together, where Eowyn set her sword down on the bed and waited outside the washroom while Estela changed. When she emerged from the washroom, Eowyn sighed and helped her lace up the back of the dress.

"How do you do that?" Estela asked in awe.

"Do what?"

"Lace up the dress so quickly."

Eowyn looked amused. "Tell me, Estela, what do people in your homeland tend to wear?" She sounded genuinely curious. "You seem most unaccustomed to this."

"Where I come from, girls normally wear tight pants with some kind of loose shirt. Or these things called leggings that are really comfortable and make your butt look great, but I might feel awkward wearing in public. Unless you're wearing a really long top with them. Then they're cute."

"Tight pants?" Eowyn echoed. "Is that not considered immodest?"

"To some it is. But that's not even the half of it. A lot of them wear really short shorts that go up to here." Estela indicated a spot on her leg barely below her hips.

Eowyn gasped. "That is preposterous!"

"Thank you! I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks so!" Estela huffed. "Some of them even wear short shorts in winter. Oh, and get this: The really smart ones combine them with boots, so at least their feet are warm. They look a bit weather confused to me."

"If one were to dress as such here, they would be mistaken for a prostitute," Eowyn said seriously as she picked up her sword from the bed. Estela eyed it warily, recalling her experience with swordsmanship in Lothlorien.

"You mentioned earlier that you wished to practice swordsmanship with me, correct?" Eowyn asked.

"Yes, I did."

"Would you like to do so now?" she offered. "It would be good practice for me as well."

"Yes! I would love to!" Estela said excitedly.

Eowyn smiled at her enthusiasm. "We can either go to the practice grounds or find an unoccupied hall."

"An empty hall," Estela said immediately. "At least if I'm as horrendous as I was Lothlorien, then there won't be anyone around to witness it."

"Come," Eowyn said encouragingly, "We will fetch you a sword, and then begin."

"No," Eowyn sighed. "Your movements are so stiff, as if you are conforming your body to strict motions. Remember, the technique lies in the wrist, and the strength in your forearm. Shall we try again?"

Estela felt about ready to explode. Yet again, she could not seem to do anything right in regards to swordsmanship. She steadied her hand, and again tried the strike Eowyn had demonstrated.

"Better," Eowyn nodded. "But you are still much too stiff. You must relax and be looser in your movements, though not too loose, because you need to maintain a somewhat tight grip on your sword." Eowyn sighed. "I am probably only succeeding in confusing you further. I apologize."

"No, you're a great teacher, actually," Estela said earnestly. "You're a lot more patient with me than Aragorn or Boromir were."

Eowyn looked surprised. "Aragorn also assisted you in this?"

"Yes," Estela said slowly, immediately worried about where this conversation thread was headed.

"He is a great man, is he not?" Eowyn said, a distant look falling over her features.

Estela shuffled back and forth uncomfortably, wishing she could say something helpful to Eowyn without giving away any future events. She settled with a simple, "Yes, he is."

After that, Eowyn seemed distracted for the rest of the lesson, and Estela's patience with herself grew thin. After both of them were worn out both physically and mentally, they sat down at a small table near the edge of the hall.

"I can't even do a simple move," Estela groaned.

"You did improve acutely, actually," Eowyn told her.

"It certainly doesn't feel like I did."

Eowyn looked hesitant, as if she wanted to say something but was unsure of herself. After a minute, she spoke, and quite bluntly. "How did you manage to survive the quest up to this point with no skill in swordsmanship?"

Estela thought about this seriously. "You know what, it's actually quite strange. In Moria, I was able to fend for myself on the outskirts of the battle. And then later when we encountered Orcs, I somehow managed to kill one of them." She shook her head. "I can't understand why I cannot do so here."

"I think I understand," Eowyn said suddenly. "Perhaps you have the ability to fight, but it only appears at the utmost of need."

Estela thought on this. "You mean it's like I know how to sword fight, but I've forgotten it?" she said confusedly, thinking about how Legolas had suggested during their time in Lothlorien that she had some dim memories of someone speaking Elvish to her.

"No, not like that at all," Eowyn replied. "It is difficult to phrase it, but I think that perhaps you simply react more sharply to instinct than to strict technique. In battle, when the instinctual need to survive is present, perhaps you are better focused. Here, the only goals you are trying to accomplish are simple moves that involve no imminent danger."

"I think I see what you mean," Estela said. "Let's hope that works every time I'm in a fight, then," she said with a small smile. "By the way, Eowyn, thanks so much for taking the time to do this with me. I know you must be busy with other things you have to deal with."

Eowyn smiled. "You are a pleasant spirited person, Estela. Even amidst the sorrow of this place, you and the arrival of the others have lifted my spirits. Spending time with you is a pleasure."

Estela grinned. "You know, I think that's the nicest thing someone's said to me in a while. Thanks, Eowyn. You're fun to be around, too. I think that we could be really good fr…" Estela trailed off. It was as if a light bulb had switched on in the back of her mind, illuminating something she had forgotten about entirely until just now. The images came swarming back in a rush…The eerie forests, the woman with the tiara, the colossal shape that had stirred in the darkness…More and more pieces of the dreams came back to her.

"Are you alright?" Eowyn asked worriedly. "Your looks are suddenly pale."

"I…I…just remembered something," Estela gasped. She stood up. "I have to go find Legolas."

"Very well," Eowyn said. "I will see you at dinner, then?"

"Yes!" she said, before rushing out the door.

Estela ran down the long hallways, peering into each room as she went. As she rounded a corner, she nearly collided with someone. She stumbled backwards on her heels, but before she fell, the person caught her by the arm and steadied her.

"Careful there," he said. Estela looked up.

"Oh! Sorry, Aragorn," she said, flustered.

He appraised her amusedly. "You seem to be in quite a hurry. You were just running, were you not? Your face is flushed."

Despite herself, Estela grinned at him. "Yes, I was just running. Kudos to you, Sherlock."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing. Do you happen to know where Legolas is?"

"He is in the stables. If you continue down this hall, and then turn right, you should come to the main entrance. The stables lie on the eastern side. May I ask why…"

But Estela had already bolted off. "I'll tell you later!" she called as she vanished behind the corner of the next hallway. Aragorn shook his head and walked in the other direction, wondering if he would ever understand the erratic behavior of women.

"Legolas!" Estela panted as she burst through the stable doors. She spotted him on the far end of the stable, stroking the mane of a large white horse. She ran up to him, and pressed her hands to her knees. Though Aragorn's directions had been accurate, the stables were much further than he had made them sound. After Estela caught her breath, she stood up straight and gazed around the stable. She was surrounded by the familiar scent of hay and horses, mingled with the occasional neigh or the sharp slap of hooves stomping the ground. Legolas was standing in front of her with a surprised look on his face.

"You are out of bed so soon?" he said.

"Yes," she replied, stilling breathing heavily. She looked past Legolas and saw his horse up close this time, and then gasped. "Oh! He's beautiful! What's his name?"

Legolas looked amused. "You inquire after my horse, while you look as if a legion of Uruk-hai were chasing you."

Estela coughed. "If Uruk-hai were chasing me, I wouldn't be stopping to say hello."

"Is that why you have come to see me?" he asked. "To say hello?"

"No," she laughed. She put a hand to the horse's nuzzle and closed her eyes, feeling the magnificent creature twitch and exhale beneath her touch. "So what is his name?"

"His name is Arod," Legolas told her. "You have ridden him before."

"I did?" Estela asked confusedly.

Legolas shook his head. "Do you honestly not recall our journey to Edoras?"

"I don't know. I was so exhausted and worried about Adonnenniel. It's all kind of a blur. It wasn't exactly one of my favorite trips so far."

"Parts of it were fine," he said, staring at her directly. "Though I was concerned for your wellbeing throughout the majority of the journey."

Estela turned away from the horse and looked at him. Her breath caught, and this time not because she was winded. She hadn't really looked at him in so long, and she was suddenly filled with an intense feeling of simple happiness. Without thinking about it, she hugged him. Surprised, he hugged her back shortly, and then let go.

"It's good to see you, Legolas," she said earnestly.

"It is good to see you too, Estela," he smiled. "Though I admit I am somewhat confused. You rush into the stables, flushed and winded, and then you proceed to inquire about Arod and embrace me."

Estela suddenly remembered why she was here. She laughed sheepishly. "Allow me to explain…I rushed into the stables because I wished to speak with you about something. I asked about Arod because he is a magnificent creature. And I embraced you because I was simply happy to see you," she shrugged.

He smiled again. "And what did you wish to speak with me about?"

Estela closed her eyes, and stroked Arod's mane. "I had a dream," she said softly.

He just stared at her, waiting for her to elaborate. Estela shook her head. "I…I think I saw my mother, Legolas. She was on the outskirts of a forest. I watched her put the tiara on and vanish. The strange part was that the tiara did not vanish along with her…It remained in the forest."

"Do you truly think this dream means anything, Estela?" Legolas shook his head. "I advise you not to waste time worrying about them. Dreams are the children of an idle mind."

She gaped at him. "Idle?" she said indignantly.

Legolas laughed. "I did not mean it that way. Believe me, I think your mind is not idle in the slightest. I merely meant that you had been rendered unconscious, and then slept for many hours. Excessive sleep can have the strange effect of making one's mind sluggish."

"It wasn't like that, though," she said slowly. "It was different from a normal dream. I felt as if I was there. I could feel the cold wind, smell the forest, and hear the trees rustling. And not only did I feel physically present, but also emotionally. It was as if I were the woman. Somehow, I don't think she knew the tiara's powers. She felt calm, and simply curious. I didn't understand that part."

Legolas did not speak, so Estela continued. "And that wasn't the only part of the dream." Her voice dropped to a whisper, and she stopped stroking Arod. "There was another forest. A darker, more alien one. It was…frightening." She shuddered.

"Estela," Legolas said gravely, "I believe these dreams are nothing more than your mind attempting to comprehend all that has happened to you since you have been here. It is my guess that you wish to make sense of the Prophecy, and those thoughts have spilled into your dreams. I advise you to not dwell on them. It will only lead to discomfort."

"But…They just felt so…real." Estela shook herself. "Though I suppose you could be right. So much has happened…It's all so confusing and distressing."

A sudden smile lit Legolas' features. "I have an idea that should lend you some degree of cheerfulness."

Estela stared at him apprehensively. "What kind of idea?"

Legolas looked past her. "Edoras is known for its grassy terrain. Terrain that is ideal for riding. I believe that if we speak kindly enough with the stable boy, we may find a horse for you to borrow."

All thoughts of her dreams were immediately driven from her mind. "Yes!" she said excitedly. "It's been too long since I've ridden just for pleasure."

He laughed. "It seems I was correct in saying that this would lift your spirits."

Estela hugged him again.

Coming Up Next!

-More chats about the ever important topic of food!

-Lots of Star Wars references!

-Estela will be forced to interact with small children!

Another Author's Note: Hot fudge brownies to anyone who caught the Shakespeare quote! Hint: It was from Romeo and Juliet! (Not my favorite Shakespeare play, just as a side note. I prefer Macbeth, Richard III, and Much Ado About Nothing)