The company of thirty and one Rangers included
Halbarad's two sons, Halladan and Barahir, who had
been fostered with Aragorn in Imladris.(1) Barahir had
served Rohan's former king and known the country well
once - but that had been more than forty years ago.

   "There was no forest in the Wizard's Vale in my
day." he told his father as the company sat their
horses on the crest of Dol Baran, looking down into
the vale.

   "This is no new planted wood," Halbarad mused, "the
trees are tall and knarled with time."

   "They are not trees," Elladan said abruptly, "but
Huorns. See, there are eyes watching us!"

   Arwen wet her lips. "The last word we had from the
south said Saruman had begun taking wood from Fangorn
Forest to fuel his furnaces."

   Halbarad nodded slowly. "It seems he has paid the
price of such folly. Come, we will see who holds
Orthanc now and ask for tidings of Aragorn."

   The atmosphere of the Huorn wood was surprisingly
peaceful. Arwen sensed a sated, drowsy contentment.
Hidden eyes watched them pass but without hostility,
or indeed much interest.

   "They have had their fill of vengeance." Elrohir
murmured to her. "And are ready to sleep again."

   Suddenly a rowan tree opened great greeny-brown
eyes and raised a branch/arm commanding them to halt.
The company reined in at once, the Men exchanging
quick smiles, normal Ranger grimness briefly lifted by
sheer delight at sight of this reminder of the Elder
World.

   "Ha Hmm. Who are you and what is your business in
the Watch Wood?"

   Halbarad unsmiled with an effort, bowed
respectfully. "I am Halbarad Dunadan comanding a
company of Rangers of the North. We are seeking our
Chief, Aragorn son of Arathorn, who we have heard is
in Rohan."

   "Ha Hmm?" The Ent studied them thoughtfully. The
Rangers suffered his scrutiny with their usual silent,
motionless patience. But after several minutes had
passed Arwen's failed. She opened her mouth to speak -
only to be silenced by a firm hand over hers and sharp
look from Elladan.

   Finally the Ent spoke: "I am called Bregalad in the
Elvish tongue, or 'Quickbeam' in the common language.
I will take you to Fangorn. You may ask your questions
of him."

   "But will we get any answers?" Elrohir wondered,
sotto-voce. 
***

   The ring of Isengard had become a lake of grey
water in which spars, beams, chests, casks and other
flotsam bobbed. A number of Ents were busily pulling
down what remained of the great wall ha-ing and
hoom-ing happily as they worked.

   Quickbeam approached a knarled old Ent
resembling a mighty oak tree. Slowly the leafy head
turned to give the Grey Company yet another long,
careful, considering look. Then the greeny-brown eyes
met Arwen's and widened.

   The Ent covered the distance between them in three
long strides, Arwen just managed to hold Asfaloth
still. "Ha Hoom!" he boomed delightedly. "Why it's
little Luthien, what brings you to Isengard, my dear?"

   For a moment she could only gape up at him, then
she recovered herself enough to stammer: "I - I am not
Luthien. My name is Arwen. Luthien was my foremother,
some say I am very like her."

   "Indeed you are, indeed you are." the old Ent
agreed. "But I was forgetting, little Luthien and her
Man Beren both left Middle Earth long ago.... Long ago
even as we Ents measure it...." the great head shook
sadly. "So, Little One, what can Old Treebeard do for
Luthien's child?"

   "Treebeard." she echoed in sudden realization. "Of
course, how stupid of me! You are that same Fangorn
who aided Luthien when she ran away to find the sea."
(2)

   "Hoom! Hoom!" Treebeard chuckled reminiscently.
"Such a pretty little creature, but so reckless. Ha
Hoom! So the story is still remembered?"

   "It is indeed, told and retold to generations of
Luthien and Beren's descendants." Arwen shot an
inquiring look at Halbarad, but he nodded for her to
continue. "We come from the North seeking Aragorn son
of Arathorn, chief of the Dunedain. Can you give us
any news of him?"
    
   "Ha Hoom!" Treebeard boomed meditatively. "Let me
see....Yes..... Gandalf and the King of Rohan had a
Nunatan, a Man of the West, with them. But the Hobbits
called him Strider, not Aragorn."

   "That is the Man." said Halbarad. "He goes by many
names. Can you tell us where we might find him?"

   "Well....no....not for certain. But he and Gandalf
left with Theoden King and might be with him still."

   "Then we will seek news of him at Edoras." Halbarad
decided. "Thank you, Master Fangorn, for your aid."

   "Not at all, not at all." the Ent replied, eyes
straying back to Arwen. "Ha Hoom. Alas, even the
fairest flowers must fade." 

   Arwen lowered her eyes uncomfortably. She had heard
such remarks before and heartily resented the
implication she was somehow duty bound to preserve her
beauty eternally for the admiration of all. She was a
woman, not a work of art!

   "But every year new flowers bloom." Halbarad said
gently.

   "Hoom! Hoom! Very true, Master Ranger, very true.
Fare you well...and good fortune to you."
***

   With Saruman defeated there was no longer any
reason not to travel openly on the Great West Road
that ran from the Fords of Isen to Minas Tirith. They
found it crowded with Rohirrim returning to their
homes in the Westfold from the refuge of Helm's Deep.

   It seemed to Arwen that many of the refugees looked
at the Men of the Grey Company with something very
like recognition, but she didn't learn why until they
made camp by the roadside that night, surrounded by
Rohirrim travellers doing the same.

   Arwen, settling down to sleep, sensed the sudden
alertness of her companions and looked up to see a
small group of fair haired Rohirrim Men standing
uncertainly at the edge of their camp.

   Barahir sprang to his feet to greet them
courteously in their own tongue. She understood only
one word of the reply but that was enough to bring her
eagerly to Barahir's side. "Aragorn! They have seen
him? They have news of him?"

   "Yes, m'lady, answered one of the Rohirrim, in
slightly halting Westron.(3) "The Lord Aragorn fought
for us at Helm's Deep. The Lady of the Golden Wood
sent an Elven army to aid him - and us."

   "What's this?" Elladan said sharply, in surprise.
"Our Grandparents decided to honor the Alliance after
all?"

   Arwen closed her eyes in gratitude. *Thank you
Grandmother, thank you Grandfather.*

   "Elven archers came and placed themselves under the
Lord Aragorn's command. They say he is descended from
the Kings of Old and so part Elf and kin to their
lords." The Rohirrim explained. "As you too are
Dunedain we wondered if perhaps you were seeking news
of the Lord Aragorn?"

   "We are indeed." Halbarad said, coming forward. "We
have come from the North to join him for he is our
kinsman and Chieftain. We were told he might be with
Theoden King at Edoras."

   The Man shook his head. "Not at Edoras. The Beacons
have been lit, Gondor calls for aid. The King musters
his army at Dunharrow and the Lord Aragorn, they say,
means to ride with them."

   "As will we." said Halbarad.
*******************************************

1. See 'The Last Homely House' by this author (adv.)

2. This is a story from Luthien's childhood, long
before Morgoth's release and the Wars of the First
Age. She heard her kinsman Cirdan speak of the sea and
decided to go see it for herself. A dangerous
undertaking in the Dark of the World.

3. The country folk of the Westfold tend to be less
fluent in the Gondor derived Common Tongue, being
farther away  from the Southern Kingdom.