Merry curled his hands into fists by his side, biting his lip roughly to hold back the frustration that threatened to spill forth with each passing moment. He was restless and he knew his frantic, aimless pacing had garnered him strange looks from Pippin, but nonetheless found himself unable to remain still as the entmoot continued to deliberate. Their strange, echoing calls drifted through the clearing, swirling around trees and over root and under branch as whispers spread throughout the dark forest. He did not know how long it had been since Treebeard had last turned to speak to the two hobbits who so anxiously awaited a translation, since the swirling roots of his great limbs had shifted and twisted as he so slowly walked towards them.
He glanced to Pippin, sighing quietly as he saw his friend resting comfortably beneath a tree, curled up as the night air stirred his shining curls. Merry envied his cousin's ease of mind, for his small body even now yearned for the rest he had tried to achieve earlier as he had attempted to sleep beneath the lazy branches of an ancient willow, but as his eyes had closed he found his mind crowded with images of fire, of flame.
Merrry sighed once more as he continued to paced, angrily running a hand through his own messied hair as he absently turned his gaze towards the night sky. The stars glittered above him with an intensity that rivaled the summer nights along the Brandywine, when he had nestled into a grassy hillside, perfectly content to listen to the gentle sounds of the river and crickets as he drew from his pipe. It seemed so very long ago to him now, he swallowed hard as he felt the prick of tears in his eyes, the memories of his beloved Shire. When he had woken to the gentle sun as it streamed through his window. When he had slept beneath a cool breeze and a quilt woven by his aunt. When his greatest worry had been a rumbling stomach between meals. When his greatest joy had been the bright sun and green hills.
When the world had been soft and gentle and peaceful.
He blinked as his thoughts were interrupted by a strange sound, swiftly turning towards the entmoot in confusion. The towering ancients tilted their heads to each other, their long vowels and twisted whispers changing in tone, growing swifter as their deep eyes glittered hazel in the starlight. "What is it, Merry?" Pippin sleepily grumbled from behind him, but Merry made no response as he narrowed his eyes and watched the ents deliberate amongst themselves, hoping to discover the source of the sudden change.
Merry took a step back hurriedly as Treebeard turned towards him with a swiftness he had not even thought the forest guardian to be capable of. Pippin was beside him, yawning as he tilted his head and repeated once more, "What's happening, Treebeard, have you come to some sort of agreement, then?"
Merry cut a silencing glance to his friend as Treebeard slowly leaned over, his amber, rippling eyes staring into his own as he the ent stated slowly, "You must be quiet, little one, for we have sensed something," He paused and let out one of his strange, low growls, "approaching."
"But what is it, Treebeard?" Pippin exclaimed, "Is it more of your folk? It surely cannot be Saruman."
"No," The ent sighed, tremors of a grumble in his voice, "Something older."
Merry swallowed hard and felt a tight knot of fear settle into his stomach as Pippin gasped from beside him. He stepped close to his friend, his hand reflexively slipping to the handle of his blade as Treebeard slowly turned his back to them. He realized that Treebeard intended to shelter them from whatever would appear at the end of the darkened glade, whatever should slip from the shadows of the ancient glades into the pale moonlight. The ents themselves were silent as they watched and waited, grouped in a semi-circle as they were so very still that Merry wondered briefly if they had fallen back asleep once more.
There came a rustling from the woods, a crackling of braches as the wind sighed through the forest. Merry swallowed hard, but his courage was bolstered as he felt Pippin's arm brush against his own and he breathed deeply, willing himself to be brave for his best friend. What seemed like a thousand heartbeats later, a figure appeared at the end of the clearing, gracefully stepped into the moonlight as it seemed to ripple over its dark cloak like water. It was still for a moment, almost frozen beneath the eyes of the sylvan giants, but it slowly strode forward.
"You are the guardians of Fangorn, of root and branch and leaf. You gathered to determine whether you will fight to protect yourselves and that which you cherish from the machines of Saruman's war, from his roaring fires and blackened steel." The voice stated with a quiet, proud determination as it cut through the silent forest. Merry's eyes widened as he recognized the voice, his heart leaping with joy as he waited for her to finish, "Even now, that which is good and that which is old is being destroyed, that which should be preserved is lost with each passing hour as the strength of both Orthanc and Barad-Dur grow. You speak for earth and I," The hood was lowered and Merry grinned as Amera's pale eyes flickered in the moonlight, her jaw set as she stated,
"I speak for water."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Pippin shifted to allow Amera room as she slumped beside him, offering a low sigh as she leaned her head back against the tree behind her. She had been speaking to the ents for hours now as he and Merry had watched from beneath the great willow. She had slipped into the flowing tongue of the elves, which he supposed must be easier for the ents to understand because, after all, Treebeard had told them that it was the elves that had initially "woken" them so very long ago. Initially, Amera had been very calm as she had addressed the ancient creatures, her voice soft and delicate compared to the rumbling growls and calls of the ents. However, as the meeting had gone on, her voice has reached that fiery pitch it did when she was most passionate and her gloved hands had gestured towards Isengard repeatedly. He had watched her toss her head in frustration, her face scrunching ever so slightly as it always did when she had to bite back her words.
Pippin had not yet been able to speak to her, though she had granted him a quick wink and a few, faint smiles when attention had been turned away from her, but he could see something had changed about her. Amera looked very tired to him, as she had seemed in the dark caverns of Moria, but this was somehow different. In Moria, Amera had looked withered, for lack of a better word, like a bold flower that had suddenly been cast from the sun, straining to embrace that which gave it both beauty and power as it grew weak and pale. Her face now was ashen and drawn, dark circles beneath her eyes that had lost their strange flame as his gaze focused on what appeared to be a few drops of blood along her brow and down her cheek. Clearly she had run into some sort of trouble as she came from wherever exactly she had come from and perhaps that explained some of the change, but Pippin was still worried.
"Are you alright, Amera?" He quietly offered as he looked at her from the corner of his eye.
She did not move, her eyes closed as she sighed. "I slept for a thousand years yet I fear even such time once more would not free me from this exhaustion."
"How exactly did you find us, Amera?" Merry asked softly, turning from his pacing. "And how are the others? What's been happening outside of the forest?"
Pippin silently watched her as she recounted what had happened in the week since their parting, her voice soft as she described the journey across the plains and the flight of the Rohirrim to Helm's Deep as the threat of Isengard loomed ever greater. She spoke of the stone fortress and of her dreams, of the voice that guided her. He knew, as she spoke, that she was purposefully keeping the true direness of the situation out, no doubt as a way to protect him and Merry. He chewed the inside of his lip to hide a smile at the realization, then waited for a moment after she was finished, and softly replied, "And what did you tell the ents, Amera? Will they listen?"
She sighed and ran her fingers through her gnarled hair, frustration creeping into her voice, "I…I cannot say, Pippin. Despite all that I told them, despite the fact that even as they waste time Isengard grows, despite-," She growled, cutting herself off as she drew a deep breath before continuing, "I cannot say which way they swayed. All we can do is wait."
Merry cursed under his breath and turned swiftly to pace across the glade, his fury easily visible as his fingers tightened into fists. Pippin watched him leave, then turned to Amera and tilted his head slightly as he watched her slender fingers travel to her throat and slipped beneath her dirty hauberk. Her eyes were still closed and her chest rose and fell gently, but a moment later he caught sight of a small image attached to a length of cord, paler than even Amera as she rang her fingers slowly over it. He was silent as he caught a glimmering tear slide down her cheek, glistening in the moonlight and as the wind gently swept through the clearing and mingled with the voices of the ents, he whispered.
"What happened, Amera?"
Silence.
"You can be honest with me, Amera." Pippin bit his lip as he slowly reached out his hand, watching her flinch very briefly as he rested upon her knee. Still, she did not move and he gently murmured, "We're friends and friends can tell each other these sorts of things."
She swallowed hard, sighing quietly as she thought over it for a moment, then stated simply, "I did something I fear I should not have."
"….And you feel guilty for it? Is that it, Amera?"
She was silent for a long moment, then whispered. "No. I…I feel nothing at all."
Pippin was quiet, but gently brushed his fingers over her knee, unsure of how to console her for whatever had caused the great curtain of sorrow to fall over her. He blinked as she suddenly opened her eyes, her voice barely audible above the rumbles of the entmoot. There was that deep glimmer of pain in her eyes, the same he had seen after Amon Hen on that terrible journey across the plains, as she looked to him. There was a brutal honesty to her voice, a nakedness that caused his heart to ache for her with each word. "How am I to give hope to men when I have so little of my own, Pippin?"
He did not say anything for a few long heartbeat, but gently and somewhat awkwardly rested his arm around her, pulling her close as she leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder. He had never been this close to her, had never felt the weight of her slender body, but it felt right to him. When she did not move, he ventured further and kissed the top of her dark curls as he breathed her in, the scent of earth and rain gentle. He did not know what to say to her, had no idea what wisdom he might pass to the Aeliniel, the Dagorwen and finally Amera as she curled up childlike against him. But silence, silence was somehow welcome, somehow fit the pieces perfectly.
They sat that way for a long time, still beneath the pale moonlight as the forest swayed and whispered around them. Finally, Amera breathed softly, her words as gentle as they were honest. "What is it that keeps you here, Pippin, in the midst of this bloodshed and chaos? What do you fight for?"
He blinked, surprised by the question as he gave a little shrug, careful not to disturb her as he softly replied. "I dunno', I suppose I fight for a lot of things, to be honest. Though, I wouldn't call it fighting exactly, Amera. I think we can both agree that that's not exactly what I'm best at."
She laughed gently at this, shaking her head slightly and he grinned before looking up to the night sky and glittering stars as he searched for the right words. "I guess I fight for my friends, for Frodo and Sam and everyone back home. If suppose I fight, then they never have to. I fight for the Shire and," He shrugged again, "I fight for you."
Amera tilted her head, shifting to cast him a curious glance as she perked a brow. Blushing slightly, he offered, "I want you to smile the way you used you used to, like when we first met at Rivendell. You looked so happy, Amera, so…so," He stammered, lowering his gaze slightly, "You don't smile like that, anymore."
Her flickering eyes widened slightly and she opened her mouth to speak, her bottom lip trembling so very slightly. A moment later, she rested her head on his shoulder, curling her delicate body against his as the night air swirled around them. "I don't know what I'd do with you, Pippin."
Pippin smiled at this, closing his eyes as he wrapped an arm over her. Silence, silence was right for now, he decided as they rested beside each other beneath the flickering stars.
