Amera's jaw dropped, her eyes widening in absolute disbelief as she craned her neck to look up at the mighty ent that towered above her. She and Boromir had heard his thudding footsteps for a few minutes now, growing louder and louder as he drew closer. Gandalf had come earlier that morning and had briefly stated that Amera would be receiving a visit from a very old friend and wait to try and be patient, because he might take a while, but before either of them could question further, he had disappeared back into the forest. Still, nothing could have prepared her for the shock that followed the sighting of what appeared to be an enormous pair of…legs making their way through the dark forest ahead of the clearing.
Her sight was more precise than Boromir's and while he had initially given her a skeptical glance as she panicked, stammering about trees and roots and these creatures called ents that she rather remembered reading about very long ago, but could not place them to be myth or reality. However, he too had frozen as the first initial thump echoed through the silent forest and given her a look of absolute confusion. Having no choice but to simply wait, the footsteps growing louder and louder with each passing moment, their hands had rested just beside their swords, ever ready. Boromir had sensed her fear and had briefly wrapped his fingers around her own, squeezing gently in the silence, and in return Amera's courage was softly bolstered as they waited for the creature to approach.
Boromir had moved to run forward as he spied the small forms of Merry and Pippin balanced on the ent's shoulders, convinced of their danger, but Amera had held him back as she realized that they appeared to rather be enjoying their placement as they frantically waved and called out to her. Her heart swelled with joy to see them safe and sound, but was unable to focus on anything besides the creature before her. As it lowered Merry and Pippin gently to the ground, each cradled in one of its twisted hands, she stared at its strange feet, which were composed of roots that seemed to seep into the ground. Its legs were like as thick as the trunks of the trees that surrounded them and its mossy, gnarled beard stretched down the length of its strong torso as she looked him over in a mixture of fright and amazement.
She then looked into its eyes and lost itself in the strange flecks that seemed to shimmer with a life of their own as the morning light illuminated them, ancient hues of earth and gold and water flickering as they met her own. "Hrooooom, what have we here?" Amera staggered back, bumping in Boromir as the creature spoke to her, tilting its head slightly as it looked over her. Its voice was deep and powerful, like distant rumbling thunder, and as she glanced to Boromir, he appeared equally amazed as he blankly stared, mouth slightly open.
"Boromir!" She blinked as the hobbits dashed towards him, laughing with joy as they tackled him in disbelief. He laughed loudly, hugging them tightly as they hurled questions towards him, their eyes wide as he ruffled their hair and grinned. She turned back to Treebeard and swallowed hard, lowering her gaze as she did her very best to sound confident, thought rather stammered, "I thank you for aiding my friends…um, sir?" The statement turned into a question and she cringed inwardly, quickly doing her best to make up for it by stating, "I owe you for the kindness you have shown unto them."
She bit her lip in fear as a deep rumbling echoing through the small glade, drowning out the gleeful cries of the hobbits and Boromir behind her, but she slowly looking up as she realized that it was, in fact, laughter. The ent's deep eyes flickered with amusement as he knelt over, his face all at once close to her own as he examined her in return. "I shall assume that you do not remember me, little one?" His voice so slow and calm that each syllable seemed a statement in itself and she found herself smiling despite her fear as she shook her head, softly replying, "I fear I do not…," She trailed off, once more unable to think of a proper title with which to address him.
"I suppose that is alright, for Gandalf told me that you were having some difficulty recalling things and though I cannot understand why," He nodded slowly, "I must remember that while you are old, you are not yet as old as I am."
So this was the old friend Gandalf had spoken of, she reminded herself, though she was convinced that she would have remembered the creature despite her long slumber. It chuckled quietly as it recognized her confusion, calmly replying, "You may call me Treebeard, for that is shortest of my many names in your tongue and while it is not my favorite," His broad, leafy shoulders shrugged, "It will do."
"Then I thank you, Treebeard, for aiding Merry and Pippin."
"Huuum, you need not thank me, Aeliniel, for they keep me young and fresh, renewed as I have not been for ages."
"I ask you forgive my asking, but Gandalf said that you were an old friend, and I fear I cannot recall our last meeting."
"I should think not!" He laughed heartily at this and she subtlety dodged the assorted bits of lichen that fell from his beard as it swayed. "You were resting or, sleeping as I suppose you might call it." Her eyes widened as he continued, his deep voice growing almost affectionate as he addressed her, "I was calmly strolling the depths of the forest and speaking to my friends, though some did not speak back, and I nearly trampled you! There was no orc mischief at that time," His eyes glowed with a fierce anger for a brief moment, then faded, "So I picked you up and had a good look at you, little one. Hrooooom, for much to my surprise, you were not of the firstborn, despite your great age, so I simply found a better, safer place for you to rest and placed you there."
OOOOOOOOOOOO
"Watch now, Pippin," Boromir murmured to him, ruffling his hair affectionately once more as they turned to watch the conversation between Amera and Treebeard. It was almost comical, he decided, the way her soft, lilting voice struggled to meet the deep, thunderous baritone of Treebeard's. "Before you stands the meeting of two creatures so very ancient, that they are naught but legends," Boromir smiled softly and continued, "The meeting of water and earth itself."
"Wouldn't it be rather odd if she looked like him?" Pippin noted, struggling to mentally image a more watery sort of Amera, "I mean, if she looked as old as Treebeard does?"
Boromir shrugged from beside him, clearly entertained by the notion, but blinked as Merry slyly quipped, "And I bet you're glad that isn't the case, aren't you, Boromir?"
He shifted, perking a brow as he calmly replied, "I am grateful that she is not burdened physically by her age, if that's what you mean."
Merry snorted at this, smiling knowingly in return as Boromir grew increasingly uncomfortable beneath his gaze. Pippin gave his best friend an odd look, questioning, "What are you going on about, Merry?"
"Oh come on, Pip, you've surely figured it out by now." Pippin stared blankly in return as Boromir suddenly took an immense interest in examining his boots. Merry rolled his eyes, speaking as if stating the utmost obvious, "Boromir fancies Amera, don't you, Boromir?"
Boromir mumbled something incoherent as he shifted slightly, running a hand through his hair awkwardly. Merry sighed once more and gave the warrior a quick pat, "It's alright, Amera told me she doesn't think you're all that bad, so you don't need to worry about admitting it."
Boromir's proud, strong voice lowered to barely a murmur as he softly acknowledged, his eyes shining "For better or for worse, I…I do love her."
Pippin blinked in surprise, then grinned widely as he nudged Merry, "Would you look at that! I for one did not see it coming, did you, Merry?" He took great pleasure in watching Boromir blush ever so slightly, desperately attempting to maintain his noble composure as Merry smirked at him, stating "Truth be told, I rather assumed it'd be her and Legolas, if anyone, but I'm quite pleased to see its not!"
However, the teasing immediately ended as Amera cast a confused glance over her shoulder to them and they each quickly, and poorly, pretended to examine the depths forest that surrounded them.
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
Amera quietly walked through the city, enjoying the familiar sounds of the lake gently lapping against the marble walls and the distant bird-song from the gardens two levels above her. Annuminas seemed to glow, she smiled faintly to herself, as the pale moonlight reflected its shining streets and walls. She strolled through the empty marketplace, absently brushing her slender fingers against the cold stone walls. However, she paused, growing silent as she spied flickering shadows from the windows of the treasury in the distance, which were illuminated against the dark of the night by a torch from within. A torch that she had not lit.
Amera began to run, flying through the empty streets, as her heart beating wildly with fear as she flung open the great stone door that separated her from the gold and jewels within. She froze as her eyes adjusted to the dim, flickering light that fell upon the ancient vases, crowns and statues she had meticulously organized that now lay carelessly scattered on the floor. Three, exceptionally filthy men stared back at her, clutching the assorted treasures of Arthedain tightly in their stained hands. Her eyes traveled to the knapsacks that rested at the their feet and to the edges of goblets that emerged from the folds.
She attempted a small smile as her heart fluttered with pity, taking notice of the holes and patches that held together their rags and the knotted hair that hung over their blank faces. She came to the conclusion that they stole out of need, for their need was no doubt great. "If you have need of shelter or supplies, friends, I will do what I can to help you." She nodded gently, "You need not visit Annuminas in the shadows, for once this city was a beacon of light to all men."
One of the men blinked and dropped a vase from its arms as he stood, looking her over in a way that made her feel decidedly uncomfortable. She choked back a small cry as the beautiful vessel was shattered and the delicate pieces of porcelain, so carefully painted with lines of shimmering crimson and gold, were scattered underfoot. A strange grin crossed the man's face as he glanced to his companions, who set down what lay in their arms, and gathered beside him to stare at Amera. "They always said this place was haunted, didn't they, Wald?"
The one she assumed to be Wald nodded slowly and she took a slow step back as their leader crept closer. He tilted his head as he scanned her unashamedly, murmuring, "Didn't expect a ghost to look quite like this, though. You, uh, you all alone then?"
She took another step back, murmuring cautiously, "I am the guardian of Annuminas, if that is what you ask."
"You ever get lonely, love, all by yourself in this empty ruins?"
Amera realized at that instant that she was in a place that she certainly should not be, the hungry eyes of the filthy bandits tearing through her, and turned swiftly to open the stone door and flee, but screamed as she found herself running to the arms of an enormous man. He grinned wickedly in the dying light and she fought him as best she could, but his strong arms crushed the air from her as they wrapped around her ribs and lifted her into the air. She tried to scream, though she knew no one would hear, but thick fingers closed over her mouth, muffling her desperate cries as she was thrown to the floor.
Tears sprung to her eyes as she screamed helplessly, her cries choking her as her lungs pleaded for oxygen. She thrashed wildly against the hands that held her down and fingernails that scratched and tore her delicate skin. The tallest of the men leered at her as he knelt before her, pulling back stubbled lips to reveal decaying teeth as he whispered, "Pretty little thing, aren't you?" He stretched out a hand, slowly stroking down her neck, and she tasted bile as he greedily grasped her breast. She thrashed once more, her eyes wild with fury and fear, and the man laughed as he withdrew his hands to undo his belt.
Amera knew what was going to happen then, as his arousal became obvious to her, and a deep, black fear coursed through her as her heartbeat sprinted beneath her heaving chest. He leaned over her and she looked into his dark eyes, shining with lust, and she felt adrenaline soar through her, ebbing and flowing like the waves of Evendim from which she was born. Amera bit down hard on the fingers that trapped her mouth and tasted blood as her teeth cut into flesh, her eyes widening as she spied a rusted dagger tied to the waist of the bandit that rested above her.
She wretched herself from the iron grip of the man behind her as he cried out in rage and lifted his hands for but a moment. Without thinking, snatched the dagger and sliced it through the air above her blindly, then screamed as a torrent of hot, thick blood fell upon her. She heard a strange, terrible gurgling and opened her eyes with horror as the man clutched wildly at the gash that had appeared beneath his throat as he fell atop her. Amera pushed him away as fury and adrenaline powered her, turning to stab the dagger into the chest of the man that had held her down. She had but held a sword once, many years ago, and was surprised by the resistance that met her blade as it passed through skin, muscle and bone.
A hand tore at her from behind and she felt the thin thread of her dress rip away from her shoulder. She held out the dagger and turned with inhuman speed, meeting the chest of one of the bandits, who roared and staggered back with rage. A clenched fist slammed into the side of her head and she gasped, swaying as stars appeared before her eyes, but struck out once more in desperation. There was a shriek of pain and she cut madly through the air again and again as the dagger flashed red, blind her in rage and terror.
The room was then silent, save for her ragged gasps as her chest heaved wildly. With wide eyes, she slowly looked at the four bodies that lay before her, their expressions glazed with terror and anger as they were so perfectly still. Blood slowly spilled from their wounds, pooling against the marble floor and spreading across the goblets, plates and treasures once so intricately organized and cared for, staining them with the crimson life of filthy bandits. She was still for but a moment longer, then doubled over as she vomited emptily, her throat and eyes stinging as what little food remained in her stomach emptied onto the floor. The dagger dropped from her hand and its metallic clang thundered through the silent room as it echoed off the high walls and vaulted ceilings.
With shaking hands, she pulled her hair back from her face and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth in shocked revulsion. It was then she first noticed the thick blood that covered her slender fingers and pooled beneath her fingernails. She staggered back, all at once realizing that she had been the force behind the horror that lay before her, unmoving and unseeing. As a choked sob escaped her throat, she became aware of the warmth of the blood that splattered her torn dress, sticky against her skin as it soaked through the pale fabric. She raised her hands to her face, staring at the stains as she sobbed emptily in horror and regret, unable to understand what she had done in only a matter of seconds and, most horrifying of all, with such little effort.
Amera turned then and fled into the night with reckless abandon, her small feet leaving behind bloodied prints as she ran.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"Ow." Amera flinched as something smacked against her shoulder, awaking instantly from her dreams as she slowly opened a bleary eye and searched for the source of the rude awakening. She blinked and recoiled in surprise as she looked up into the face of Gandalf, who peered down at her as if standing over a sleeping person was the most normal practice one could enjoy. He gave her another quick tip with the base of his staff, which she lamely smacked away as she yawned, "Get up, Amera! We have a great many things to take care of and, unless I am mistaken, you do not even require sleep."
She rolled her eyes at this, stretching her arms up as she quietly retorted, "I may not need it, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy it." Boromir grumbled from beside her and pulled his cloak over his head, which earned him, a less than gentle smack from Gandalf. "Get up, captain of Gondor!"
Amera ran a hand sleepily through her tangled hair as she suppressed another yawn, eyeing Gandalf cautiously as she quickly threw on her hauberk and boots. As she knelt and splashed some of the cool water of the small pool onto her face to freshen herself, she called out over her shoulder, "I don't suppose there's any chance you could inform me further of these great many things?" She turned back to him and brushed her robes off, "I've received several surprises from you in the past two days and know naught how many more I can take."
She blinked in surprise as he had moved from where she had last seen him, then sprinted to catch up with him as he made his way through the forest swiftly ahead. He gave her a quick nod as she slowed down upon reaching her side, Boromir just behind her as they left the peaceful glade behind. "Three hunters ran forth from Amon Hen, did they not?"
"They did." Boromir quietly stated from behind her and she recognized the shame in his voice, for she knew he was humiliated to have been left behind, though she knew it could not have been any other way.
Gandalf paused then, turning to give them a small smile. "And I should think it time that our friends meet those they thought left behind."
Amera grinned widely.
