Fimbrethil listened The wind carried a voice -- one she'd never heard before. It was soft and pleasant.
"Come away with me. I will show you better lands. Pleasant lands. Fruitful lands. Splashes of pinks and blues will stun your eyes. Shades of red and white will choke you with delight. Come away with me."
"Where would you take me?" she asked.
"Beyond the Great River. The mountain spews ash. The ash nurtures the earth. Your gardens here are as naught to those you could have beyond the Anduin."
"Ah." She breathed a sigh.
"The land here is barren. It hardly behooves you to have your hair turned to silver and your cheeks to brown with nothing to show for it."
"We have beautiful gardens here."
"Your soil is old and worn. You are old and worn. Come hither. Come to the Anduin. Cross over the Great River and see what I can give you."
"Oh!" She moaned at the sight the whispered speech garnered in her.
"Fimbrethil. Your heart craves more. Bring your friends and join me. The trees would obey you. The grasses would grow according to your wishes. Come away with me."
Treebeard's voice sounded so very far away. He was singing. She smiled. "I would speak with my beloved," she told the voice in the wind. "He searches for me."
"Tarry not long. The wind may well blow me far and you would not find your way."
"I am here, Treebeard." She stopped and waved a brown, smooth-skinned arm. "I have finished planting this last row of green herbs. I must attend to the apple trees. Speak with speed, if you may. I cannot tarry." Her heart lurched in the thick walls of her wooden frame as she repeated the whispered voice.
"Hrum, Hoom. Now let us not be hasty, my love. I brought you some drink. Do you not find the lack of a cool breeze stifling?" He lifted a stone jar from his shoulder and placed it on the ground. Pulling a ladle and two bowls from his back, he handed her one. "One moment, my love." He ladled the drink into her bowl, then filled his own.
She sighed and drank. He joined her.
"Ah – ah." He lifted the bowl and finished it. "Skinbark has discovered a stand of birches. I would show them to you. Will you come? We need not hurry."
"I have no need to see another tree. The apples flourish and I must tend to them. Be gone."
"By root and twig, you are hasty today. Will you not take my hand for a moment? Not too long a moment, for I feel your disquiet."
"Perhaps another day." She looked to the East.
"The wind settles in the East. Why do you look towards it?"
"Leave me be in peace. You may return to your wild woods and your high hills. I have things to do." She turned, pulled her rooted toes from the earth and lumbered away, not giving him a backwards glance.
The voice intrigued her. She wanted to hear more.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.