Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and I make no money from this writing.

I wish Elladan had had some food with him. I can see some nuts on a bush just over there but I was told to stay here. Here is hungry, there is food. My belly rumbling is going to give me away. I bet I am scaring the birds for miles. I have to eat.

There are some beautiful, shiny berries here. They're like – I don't know what they're like. They're red and sort of squashy and milky. And they don't weigh much. If I get a good handful together it'll be better than nothing.

"No, boy."

I grab the branch and drop the berries and they tumble away though I try to grab them.

"My fruit is not for you, boy."

The voice is slow and deep and I can't see anyone around at all. If I have a vision now my chances of staying in the tree aren't very good. But the words feel as though they're coming from inside me.

"Who are you?" I say, but I don't expect an answer.

"Do you not know, boy? Your brother woke me before he pushed you up into my branches for safekeeping. And if you don't stop wriggling about you're going to be on the ground, little one."

"Who are you?" I say again. I've never had a conversation with a tree before.

"I am the tree your brother planted to replace the branches he took from my father when they had great need of bows. When I was younger, but, I judge many years older than you, Legolas woke me."

"Legolas!"

"Oh yes, Legolas. He and I are old friends."

"How old are you? When did Elladan plant you?" I am not sure if I am being rude but I really want to know.

"I am told that I am a thousand years old. Elladan came last year and spoke to me of it. I do not remember. I dream, you see. I am here, and I dream, and then the years flood past my reckoning."

I see time, a long, long river of time and me a small speck in the river. I don't know what to say.

"Now – I believe there will be a battle here soon. I believe that your father and these men who are befouling the water and cutting wood where they please will fight each other. That is what Elladan said. So I have charge of you. May I ask, what is your name? He did not have time to tell me. His talk was too quick and full of swords and arrows."

"Estel," I say, and stand up on the branch. "At your service." And I bow. Papa would be proud of me.

"Ah! So you are Estel! Well now."

"Have you heard of me?" Maybe I am not a speck after all. Maybe I am more than that.

"I heard all about you last year. How small you are and how you keep everyone smiling. That is no small thing, Estel. The brothers have been angry since their mother went away. I think Elladan forgets to be angry when you are with him. Elrohir. I am not sure of Elrohir's feelings."

"He is often cross with me," I admit. "Though he does his best not to be. I – I ran away and I think Elrohir wanted very much to tell me off but Papa didn't let him."

The little sharp, dark needles seem to quiver for a moment and the sun goes in. I thought I would be cold but it seems warm in the branches of this tree.

"Do you have a name?" I ask.

"I had one once," he says. "It is very long. Each year, it has become longer. You may call me Aldalómë, for I am dark and I am a tree."

"All right. Thank you for helping me," I remember to say.

"I think you have not noticed something," Aldalómë says.

I look around but cannot see anything.

"On the lowest branches A bag. A small bag. I think it has in it something that will make you feel much better."

I move very carefully downwards and grab it and find in it – bread! Cheese! And an apple!

I try to remember my manners but I am too hungry. My new friend is laughing.

"Perhaps if you ate more slowly," he suggested, "you would not keep choking."

I take his advice and get along better.

Suddenly, the yew tree whispers, "Be still, child!" and I freeze. "The enemy is close. But your brother is closer. See – here he comes!"

"Is he coming to get me?"

I look around and there is Elladan, with Legolas running just behind him, so that he'd step on his heels if my brother stopped. And there is Papa, too! I want to call out to him but the tree said to be quiet. I cling tighter to the trunk, wrapping my arms around it and I watch as they come closer, both dogs bounding along through the tall grasses. I'm going to see them fight!

There are shouts and I turn. I see the men who caught me running straight at my family and I want to yell to them, to warm them.

"They know, Estel. Hush," Aldalómë whispers and I turn again to see Papa choose a place, not far away, on the top of a little mound. He has a sword with him but it is not his own. It is short. He is practising with it, waving it about and stabbing with it. Legolas is standing right by him, turned to the side and Elladan is the same on the other side. They are talking to one another but I cannot hear anything.

"They are well prepared, child," Aldalómë says. "Do not be afraid for them."

I am not afraid, not exactly. My heart is beating fast and I want to join in with them. Elladan has spoken to Papa, and Papa has nodded and now the men are there, too many men and I can't see what's happening.

I jump up and down on the branch, wanting so much to go and help.

"Be careful!" Aldalómë says, louder now, but I slip anyway, and only just manage to catch hold of a branch. "Stand still!" he says and he sounds cross. I grab hold of the trunk again and try to be quiet.

But as the fight goes on, I close my eyes. I don't want to see it any more. I see in my head the ladies and children at the camp and I know they will be crying for the men who are falling to the ground now. I don't want them to keep pushing forward on Papa and my brother and Legolas because the bad men are dying and Papa might be hurt.

He's fallen to his knees! I can't help it, I have to shout.

"Papa!"

"He will be well, my boy. Look, he is back on his feet now," Aldalómë says, and he's not cross any more. They're fighting over me. They mustn't do it any more but what can I do to stop them?

I shout, no longer afraid of being heard because the noise of the fight is drowning me out. "I can't stop them! Can you do it?"

"You cannot stop them, Estel. They are set on it now. Be like telling a river not to run. Stay here. It'll be over before you know it."

"But they'll die!"

"Watch, Estel. Watch patiently!"

But I cannot, and before Aldalómë can say anything I am out of the tree and running. I must stop them!

I run between the men, crawl under them, see only Papa and Legolas and Elladan and I run right to them.

"Stop!" I am shouting, though something in my head says I am not doing this right. But something stronger says I cannot let this go on.

"Hold!" shouts Papa in a very loud voice, louder than I have ever heard. "Hold!"

I run to him and grab hold of him. "Papa! Make them stop! I don't want any more of them to die!"

Then the world goes dark around me and I can't feel anything any more except that I am holding on to Papa.

"Estel." That's Papa. Everything around us is quiet. "We are going to move now. Come with me. And do not, ever again, under any circumstances, leave my side. Do you understand me?"

I nod because that seems the right thing to do, although I am not sure if he is really angry or sort of joking with me. But I don't think it's going to be any use protesting, or asking questions. But he can't mean, never, can he? Can he?