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Okay, NOW Panic!  by Boz4PM

Chapter 15 Let's Call The Whole Thing Off


The week in Lothlorien passed both slowly and all too quickly at the same time. It was faintly surreal, Penny decided later, but then that was nothing new. Surreal seemed to make up her entire existence these days.

She was able to relax far more than she had in a long time, though, and slowly grew to understand the wisdom in Galadriel and Celeborn's actions. With all of Lothlorien to wander in she was able to talk freely with Lindir, as well as Erestor and Glorfindel on occasion. Arwen and Elrond were rarely seen except in company, given they were so busy with friends and family.

She talked of her life and answered Lindir's questions as best she could. There were limits to what she would discuss, and Lindir was wary of making her feel too homesick, but he was brought up to speed with much that Erestor and the others had heard or guessed before now. She spoke at length of things musical, at his insistence and increasing fascination. She did her best to try and describe the different varieties, some of the instruments and snatches of tunes of various things – popular and classical, operatic and musical. She knew very well she was not doing any of it any justice, but Lindir did not grow tired or bored of anything she told him in this regard. He was vaguely frustrated that she could only remember snatches of tunes from what she described as long pieces involving many instruments, but Penny was no classical musician nor had ever had much interest in it. She apologised profusely, and did the best she could.

She also made it up into the canopy as she had hoped.

But only late in the week…

And at the fourth attempt…

And only after being plied with several cups of wine over lunch by Lindir, who was sick of hearing her bemoan the fact that she could not get up there.

Suffice it to say that, with alcohol and a lot of shoving and pulling involving a party of six of elves or so (thus ensuring she had no escape and lots of chatter to take her mind off it all), she got all the way up there at last. Once there she enjoyed it so much she did not want to come down again.

Rhimlath found her awe and entrancement endearing, if quaint, and even went so far as to show her round his own talan. She had stood in the doorway in reverent silence as if hardly daring to breathe.

Everyone else thought it amusing.

Well, all except Lindir, perhaps, who understood far better the deep significance attached to each such moment for Penny. Normally he would have been the first to pull her leg about it all, but he was actually very understanding and went out of his way to point things out to her, indeed force her over walkways (carried her, in fact, at one point, while she clung to him frozen in fear, head buried in his shoulder and too scared to even scream) since he knew she would kick herself later if she did not manage it all.

The week passed by in a flurry of inactivity. Long, slow walks, chatter and song with evenings filled with more chatter, more song, as well as plenty of wine and dancing thrown in.

Mireth and Penny went exploring nearly every day. Penny in fact persuaded Mireth to come with her on Rhimlath's continued guided tour. Celebdor then branded Penny (jokingly) a bad influence on his betrothed, since Mireth seemed to be genuinely looking forward to it and tried to rope him into joining them, thanks entirely to Penny's enthusiasm.

That same day after the feast also saw a minor crisis of logistics as Penny had to explain to Arwen, Eleniel and Mireth that she needed to know how to clean, and more particularly dry, her 'period cloths' with some degree of privacy. The lines behind the tents were discrete enough, but once they left Lothlorien, Penny would still have a few more days to go and was worried discretion would no longer be an option.

"Do not worry, Pen-ii. With this many in the company, there will be several separate smaller fires near tents as individuals make herbal teas or their own particular food. A fire for us, set apart from the rest, over which you can dry the cleaned cloths will not attract comment in the slightest."

Arwen was always so sane and kind.

It did mean, of course, Penny could not have a bath before they left. She had a good stand up wash, though, and made sure to wash her hair. Who knew when she would next have such luxury again? Minas Tirith possibly, but even that seemed to be doubtful. The day before they left she, Mireth and Eleniel went to a little hut at some distance from their encampment to stock up on soap and shampoo for the remainder of the journey.

"You will have to stop using soap to wash clothes, you know," Eleniel said to her. Penny looked far from convinced. "It is very wasteful and not necessary, but after we leave Lothlorien… well, I dread to think what soap they may have in mortal habitations. You may need to make your soap last a very long time."

"Do they even have soap?"

"Of course they do, Mireth," Penny laughed. "Just not of the same quality."

"Or effectiveness," muttered Eleniel.

Rhimlath would be joining them on the journey south, as would a retinue of about thirty Galadhrim made up of several of the personal guard of Celeborn and Galadriel (forever dressed in their white and silver) or else close friends of Arwen and notables of Lothlorien. Haldir and his brothers were not among them, nor any of their wives. Penny had met all three of the ellyth during the course of the nightly impromptu dances, and found them all charming. Rumil's wife obviously had the patience of a saint, but also a light, trill laugh that showed she enjoyed the lighter side of life just as her husband did. They were clearly perfectly matched.

They set out early one morning through the gates of Caras Galadhon to the sound of singing filtering down through the tree branches above them. The song was met and matched by those in the wedding party and continued on for long after they had crossed the bridge and turned west along the encircling white path.

Penny was sorry to leave.

For most of the day they seemed to double back on themselves till they reached a ford in the river Celebrant and crossed it in early afternoon. They continued west for a little while and made camp near the edge of the trees. Then the next morning they started to slowly make their way southwards.

Each day passed much like the next. Their route took them through long low valleys, thickly wooded copses and out into meadows. The mountains, their constant partner, were always to their right. At times, after a few days and from higher ground in the clear early summer sun, you could see quite some distance. Far, far away to the south the pale blue line of the White Mountains stretched across their path. Far nearer and to their right was a dark patch of green that nestled up against the Misty Mountains as they swept slightly to the south-east…

Fangorn.

Penny wondered how close they would travel to it, given they would be passing by it if they went by the straightest route to Rohan.

As they travelled they made camp usually in or near trees and within distance of a brook or preferably a larger tributary that wound its way from the mountains eastwards towards the Anduin. Penny's tent had a few more ellith in it than before as old friends of Arwen joined them. Indeed, for as long as a separate fire was needed for Penny, a little gaggle of ellith joined her soon after the meal every night and spent an hour or two chatting and gossiping. Arwen had asked that a small awning be set up for them every night under which they would set a little fire under the pretext of wanting to make hot drinks and gossip.

Penny would sit quietly, enjoying the banter and tales. Many of the new additions told of when Arwen had stayed for long years in Lothlorien with them.

"No matter how they tried, none of the eligible young bachelors could woo her," one smiled. "They would ask her for every dance, bow and scrape, be at her beck and call but she would just thank them and smile and nothing more."

"Ah, but then Estel came along," another winked.

"Oh, indeed."

"You should have seen her that night after they got betrothed. I think she ran all the way from Cerin Amroth."

"I did not!" Arwen protested.

"Oh, you did! You could barely contain yourself!"

One adopted a very good impression of an over-excited Arwen. "Oh, he kissed me! He kissed me! He kissed me!" They fell about, Arwen laughing with them, even if her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.

"He was very handsome," one admitted. "For a mortal."

Penny joined in instinctively with Arwen's cry of protest.

"He still is!" spluttered Arwen

"'For a mortal?'" Penny tried to look outraged.

They looked at each other and laughed.

"Well, I ask you!" Penny muttered.

"Indeed," Arwen agreed. "Mortal or no, it was love at first sight." She drifted off into memories with a sigh and a slightly glazed expression.

A Lothlorien elleth started giggling. She pointed at Arwen. "I recognise that face. That is exactly how she looked after coming back from Cerin Amroth that night."

More laughter.

In the end, the few days Penny had to deal with hand washing cloths in a bucket in her tent and then hanging them to dry over the fire were very enjoyable. If any of the ellyn guessed or saw the real reason for it all, they were far too discrete and polite to comment. Penny had no doubt that those on guard duty ranged about would have to have seen, but she had learnt to accept that there was a certain level at which, in this society and lifestyle, you could not be too shy about certain basic necessities and facts.

Let alone when camping.

Even so, there are some things in life it is hard to imagine even if you know they must occur – such as your parents snogging or the Pope in the bath. Thus seeing Galadriel disappear off in the direction of the latrine took some getting used to the first couple of times Penny spotted her. Similarly, knowing Celeborn was around did not make it any easier for Penny to get the image of naked ellyn bathing in a river out of her head every time that was arranged. Quite the opposite, frankly.

She was assured the water was warmer, so she did brave bathing once or twice. She felt horribly self-conscious but realised it was less bother for others if she joined them – no one having to hold up a sheet for her in the tent as she washed, for example – so she made the effort, much as she loathed it.

The Westron lessons, suspended for the duration of their stay in Lothlorien, started up again, much to Penny's despair. Worse, Rhimlath would now join in, which irritated Erestor nearly as much as it did Penny, since he would correct Erestor's pronunciation or grammar declensions.

"I do have to speak to mortals in this tongue on a regular basis," Erestor smiled through clenched teeth.

"Indeed, but you seem to have picked up quite a bit of the local dialect, Erestor. Penny will struggle to be understood if she uses such colloquialisms in Rohan, though perhaps they may understand her better in Gondor. I doubt it, though."

Penny tried to point out she would have difficulty being understood no matter which brand of Westron she learnt. She was all but ignored, though, since Erestor was already declaring that he knew for a fact that the last time Rhimlath had used Westron was with the Fellowship, and he had it on good authority they had not understood a word he said.

"Maura was convinced you were speaking some sort of strange Silvan patois."

Before Rhimlath could even begin to put his indignation into words, Erestor went on to point out that Rhimlath had 'barely used Westron in the last five hundred years at least, if not more' and 'with all possible respect' (by which you might understand Erestor was really very, very riled at this point) he 'clearly did not know what he was talking about.' At which point he banned Rhimlath from intervening further.

It was therefore understandable, perhaps, when Erestor positively exploded a few days later when he found Rhimlath trying to persuade Penny to repeat her lessons back to him late one evening so he could 'correct' any 'minor errors' that 'may have slipped Erestor's attention'.

Two scholarly ellyn bitching at each other was not a pretty sight to behold.

Lindir, of course, found the whole thing hilarious and was busily trying to persuade her to deliberately mis-say the few words she could remember so Erestor could blame Rhimlath, Rhimlath could blame Erestor, and Lindir could laugh himself sick at the pair of them.

Penny, trying not to get involved, though unable to avoid a lot of it (given it concerned her directly), refused.

Only to find out that Lindir had then deliberately taught her some incorrect phrases.

"No, no, NO, Pen-ii!" Erestor was losing his patience. "That is not it at all. I know you try hard not to listen to Rhimlath, but really I can not put up with much more of this."

"Why, what did I say?"

"Actually, Erestor, I believe her mispronunciation comes from the way you insist on over-exaggerating the vowels." Rhimlath, ever hovering in earshot, had jumped in.

Erestor spluttered incoherently for a moment. "Rhimlath! Do you mind?"

"Erestor, as your friend and fellow scholar I have to tell you that your teaching methods are-"

"My teaching methods are perfectly adequate, thank you very much!"

"'Adequate.' Quite."

"Right. That is enough! Celeborn! Would you mind dealing with this nuisance!"

Celeborn seemed to have mysteriously lost his hearing temporarily as his stallion picked up speed a little and he trotted away to join Elrond (who was also keeping a healthy distance from it all).

"'Nuisance'! Who are you calling a 'nuisance'?" Rhimlath retorted hotly.

"When you have both quite finished," Penny interrupted. "You can then tell me what is actually wrong with the phrase Lindir taught me."

Rhimlath and Erestor each raised an eyebrow as they looked at each other, then at Penny, then back at each other.

"LINDIR!" they roared in unison.

Penny gave up any hope of learning any Westron at all before Gondor, let alone Rohan.

She also gave Lindir 'what for' the moment she managed to grab hold of him. Mireth and Eleniel joined in.

"I am finding this hard enough without you deliberately teaching me something incorrect!" she fumed.

"I know, and I apologise," he muttered, somewhat shamefaced. "It was too good an opportunity, though, and it was only that one word. Look at it this way: after all that fuss there is no way you are going to forget it in a hurry."

"Yes, and the word 'she-goat' is so useful to me, Lindir," Penny retorted, scathingly.

"You never know."

Penny glared at him.

Things got so out of hand that Elrond felt forced to have a quiet word with both Erestor and Rhimlath and ask them if they would prefer he took over Penny's tuition. The pair, thin-smiling and united for once, thanked him profusely and over-politely while reassuring him they could resolve their differences.

In the end Penny took her own measures of simply boycotting Westron lessons. Erestor understood completely and blamed Rhimlath entirely. Penny's friends took it upon themselves to test her every now and then on basic phrases and words, most of which she had difficulty retaining for any length of time, and it seemed that would be it in terms of her Westron learning for the time being.

After three days of travelling the separate fire was no longer necessary and Penny and the others mingled amongst the company after supper of an evening. The pattern was much as it had been on the western side of the Misty Mountains with the nights filled with tales and songs while others chatted quietly on the edges of the gathering. Of course now Penny had the added bonus of listening to tales from the Galadhrim. Many told or sung of deeds by which Elrond and Glorfindel had become renowned. One ellon sung most movingly of the deaths of Gil-galad and then Celebrimbor, at the end of which many were in tears, Penny included.

More than once, as had happened on occasion in Lothlorien also, Lindir was expressly called upon by Celeborn or Galadriel to sing or recite something he himself had written.

"You are honoured indeed to have one such as Lindir amongst your friends," a quiet voice said to Penny in the midst of one of these recitals.

"Indeed, Lord Celeborn. I did not realise at first, perhaps, the high regard in which he was held. It is entirely of Lord Elrond's doing: it was he who insisted Lindir teach me how to ride. We have since discovered a common sense of humour and our friendship has grown from that."

"Ah, yes. In some respects Lindir is ever the elfling, despite his age."

'Isn't that true of all elves?' Penny thought to herself, with a snigger. They all had their moments, especially after one too many cups of wine.

"Oh, very possibly, Lady Pen-ii." Galadriel leaned forward to glance at Penny across her husband.

Penny blinked. She could not get used to that.

"Would you recite something from the times of Doriath?" she asked Celeborn, trying to change the subject.

"Well, I am not sure that-"

"Oh, that would be wonderful!" Mireth had overheard and was beaming. "I for one would most certainly wish to hear it. As would many here, I am sure."

The murmurs spread to all nearby, and Celeborn agreed, albeit a little hesitantly. After Lindir had finished and been congratulated by all, Celeborn stood where he was, cleared his throat and adjusted his tunic.

"It would appear some might appreciate something from the Ancient Tales."

A ripple of delight ran through the crowd and an expectant hush fell filled only with the occasional crackle from the fire.

And so Celeborn, clearly not nearly as reluctant about doing this as he had at first appeared, launched into a lengthy piece of epic poetry that, it transpired, he had written himself.

Some of the phrases in it Penny could not fathom and she guessed were a slightly older usage of Sindarin than she had met up till now, but she understood more than enough to sit as enthralled as everyone else around her. Doriath was immediately brought to life: before her mind's eye stood Thingol and Melian, Beleg and Mablung (though this was probably helped by her having already seen their images on frescos and wall hangings in Imladris, as well as in the carefully painted history books in Elrond's library). He told of Nargothrond's beauty, of the heroic battles with orcs on its borders, even a little of the love of Beren and Luthien. When he described Luthien's fairness he stopped, stepped over to his granddaughter and bent to kiss her brow. It was true: Arwen was very much Luthien's image.

Then came its fall and, at the mention of dwarf attacks and kinslaying, the silent stillness amongst the listeners seemed to deepen. Penny glanced at Elrond, as if to gauge his reaction, nor was she the only one. He sat watching his father-in-law impassively listening, but at the mention of Maglor he bowed his head slightly as if suddenly lost in his own thoughts.

Celeborn, in telling of the tales of battles or defence of the realm, even if he spoke of others such as Beleg or Mablung, invariably used the first person plural: "We beat them back… We drew our blades… Our bows moved faster than lightning…" He became energised, animated, as if reliving it all. Penny suddenly saw him in a different light: no longer the tall, imposing, yet kindly and wise Lord of Lothlorien, but a younger, powerful warrior instilling terror into the hearts of any orc stupid enough to face the wrath of his blade.

It was quite a performance.

Of course, not to be outdone, this started a trend for the next few days, and Penny was treated to the almost amusing spectacle of Elrond, Erestor, Glorfindel and Celeborn trying to 'outdo' each other in tales of daring and courage, splendour and historical moments they had been involved in at one time or another. It was clear Penny was not the only one to see this for what it was – namely, competitive (if tongue-in-cheek and friendly) boasting and posturing. The ellith in particular seemed to find it amusing. Penny would seat herself near Arwen, and always beside Mireth or Eleniel, with all of them and any other ellith near them sharing slight smirks and rolling eyes. Penny even caught Galadriel doing it once or twice.

Not that the tales were not truthful, fascinating and enthralling to listen to or, if sung, then done so with beautiful voices to an equally beautiful tune.

But that was hardly the point.

Within just under a week of travel they had crossed the Limlight and reached the northern edge of Fangorn. It loomed in the distance to their right, dark and slightly foreboding to Penny's mind, as it hugged the foothills of the mountains. At first they did not move near it but as the days passed Penny did not know if it was because their path was moving west, or simply because the mountains (and thus Fangorn) slowly inched towards the east, but slowly the forest moved closer to them.

Towards the end of the second week, the forest was clearly visible: the gnarled and thickened trunks on its edges, the branches reaching out towards them, covered in summer's greenery. All during the day, they seemed to be heading straight towards it, or so it appeared, since every time Penny glanced up to her right it seemed to be nearer than it had been an hour or two before. Yet no matter how close they got, you could not see further than the first row of trees. Anything beyond that was lost in darkness.

Penny remembered Celeborn's warning to the Fellowship, and wondered if any attempt would be made by the elves to enter into the depths. She was not sure she wanted to follow, if they did.

"It is an ancient place, as you well know, Pen-ii. Ancient even to the Eldar, which tells you much."

"Yes, I realise that, Erestor. Will we be going into it?"

Erestor seemed surprised by the question.

"Our path lies directly to the south. You know that."

"You did not answer my question."

"I do not know what plans Lady Galadriel may have, Pen-ii."

Ah, so the ellyn clearly did not think it was a good idea to go waking up huorns and ents but the Lady of the Wood had other ideas? Was that it?

Time would tell.

That night, indeed, they camped within an easy march of the forest's edge. Invariably tales turned to it and other ancient forests now long disappeared. Stories of huorns, black-hearted trees and other horrors were told and to the elves this was simply the way of things – they felt no fear, only wonder, interest or mild disgust. For Penny, though, it was the equivalent of telling ghost stories round the campfire. Normally she would have dismissed such things with a scornful laugh, but now she knew that such things existed – just as orcs and elves, trolls and giant spiders all existed – and could not be ignored so easily.

After the third story of a group of edain supposedly never being seen again and nothing being found other than a few crushed, blanched bones many years later, Penny had had enough and took herself to bed. There she slept fitfully and had at least one nightmare till Eleniel came to sit beside her, stroke her brow and sing quietly to her to soothe her dreams.

The following day brought them to within a few yards of the eaves of the forest. After the previous night's stories, Penny's mind was in overdrive. She kept glancing to her right nervously, as if half imagining a tree to take a lunge at her at any moment. She made sure she was on the far left of the company, so there was the relative safety of elves and horses between her and any huorn with malicious intent.

The songs that day were of forests and trees, of nature and the elves' love for it and affinity with it. The branches above them seemed to sway with the breeze… until Penny realised there was no breeze… at which point she tried not to think about it.

Late in the afternoon, earlier than usual, they set up camp. No fire was set and only cold meats and cheese with flattened bread was the early supper while it was still light. Many wandered up to the lines of trees, letting their hands trail on the bark, looking up into the branches, even disappearing briefly into the gloom, but not going far. Penny noted it was mainly the Silvan and Sindarin elves that seemed the most enthusiastic. Most of those with Noldor blood were more reserved, though still behaving in much the same way. All were treating the place with a great respect and reverence, though.

Galadriel was standing a little apart from the rest, staring intently into the depths. Elrond was with her, as well as Celeborn. A small crowd was nearby including Glorfindel and Arwen. There was an expectant air about them.

"Lindir? What is-?"

Lindir held his finger to his lips. Penny, looking round, suddenly realised everyone had stopped moving, many seemed to be listening intently, though she could hear nothing. She turned to Eleniel beside her.

"Eleniel?"

"Do you not hear it?"

"No… What am I meant to-?"

And then she did hear it: a strange rustling sound from deep within the forest accompanied by a low, rumbling boom. As it got louder and closer, the only thing that stopped Penny running in the other direction was the fact that everyone else around her seemed perfectly alright with this, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Then it stopped.

As it did so, Galadriel, Celeborn, Elrond and the group with them stepped forward into the trees. Penny noticed that Galadriel seemed the least hesitant of them all.

After some time Erestor reappeared, a smile of relief replacing the serious wariness he had worn before, and silently beckoned those as wished to follow. Penny was practically pushed ahead of Eleniel, and Mireth had her by the arm as they headed into the darkness. The trees were old and gnarled, and just as the hobbits had later described it, the place was filled with a musty oldness that meant that even someone as unaware as Penny knew she was somewhere very weird indeed. Lichens covered everything and hung in swathes from boughs and branches. Penny had the distinct impression she was being watched… and not by the elves around her, either.

Ahead she could see Elrond, Galadriel, Celeborn, Glorfindel, Arwen and others in a group in a slight clearing (i.e. a marginally bigger gap between the trees than elsewhere). A rather tall, gangly larch seemed to be plonked right in front of them. Then, as slowly elves appeared around the clearing from all sides, many staying well back in the shadows, the larch moved the upper part of itself slightly.

"Hroom-room-room, ah, so there you all are!" it rumbled, slowly and carefully in Sindarin. "It is a pleasure indeed to have the elves in Fangorn once more after so long. You are all most welcome."

Penny decided then and there she had a phobia of ents.

Her brain was imploding just looking at it. It was a tree and yet it was not. It was talking, and yet it was more like quiet thunder in her head. It was the oddest thing in the world she had every laid eyes on, and given the kind of things she had run up against in the last six months, that was really saying something.

She grabbed hold of Lindir's elbow and half hid behind him.

"You are perfectly safe, Pen-ii," he whispered.

"I know."

She did not come out from behind him, though, nor release the vice-like grip on his elbow.

If the ent noticed a human amongst the faces ranged around him he did not remark on it. Whatever parley or greetings being held between him and Galadriel, Celeborn and the rest, they were still ongoing. As the ent's attention focused back on the powerful elves stood in front of him, slowly the rest slipped away either into the forest for a time or back to camp. Lindir walked for a while, Penny beside him still with a firm grip on his arm, looking about him in wonder. Looking at him, Penny realised he looked different, somehow, as if the weight of years had been lifted from him, not that she had ever really noticed the weight of years on him, if truth be told.

Yes, this place was old even by elvish standards which meant everyone, probably even Celeborn, felt young here. The only exception might have been Galadriel, but even she would have felt a lot younger than usual, Penny suspected. Even Rhimlath was speechless, which was a feat in itself and as was commented upon later.

"Fangorn is to be thanked for small mercies," Erestor muttered later to Penny. Penny could not help but snigger. Poor Rhimlath.

Penny knew many did not rest that night but wandered in the margins of the forest, feeling like elflings once more and enjoying the sensation. They kept a healthy respect for it all, though, and many were wary to stray too far or alone. Elves were the friends of trees, but it had been too long since contact between the two had occurred – just as Celeborn had warned against Fangorn to the Fellowship, so Treebeard had thought ill of Lothlorien. Too long apart, there was no time to reforge the relationships now. Still it was a pleasant interlude for those travelling, a wonder and a novelty… even if the place gave Penny the creeps.

For two more days they travelled almost under the eaves of Fangorn, never venturing within its borders but letting their presence be known. In return, there emanated that watchfulness that Penny had sensed before from within the darkness beyond the trees, and the swaying of branches in time to the songs sung all made it seem as if the forest, in some way, travelled with them and wished them well.

It was all deeply bizarre.

Away to the west the land of The Wold grew steadily flatter and the lush grass taller and greener the further south they travelled. Then, as the edge of the forest turned east, they crossed the Entwash and finally left Fangorn behind them.

The White Mountains were clearly visible ahead of them now, and the flattened grassy plains between them left them in no doubt that they were in the realm of Rohan. In the distance from higher ground the Emyn Muin could be made out in the west. Penny could not see beyond them, could not catch her first glimpse of the Anduin or the blighted, grey lands beyond.

As she gazed towards the line of hills, she wondered if they were level with Amon Hen yet or perhaps already even slightly south of it. At this distance it was probably impossible to tell, she decided. So Penny said nothing, turned her mare and silently joined the rest of the company as they headed on towards Edoras.



Author's Notes:

1. Maura, you will remember, is 'Frodo's real name in his native version of Westron.

2. I was not going to include a visit to Fangorn until I realised they would have to walk past it, and for quite some time, on a direct route from Lothlorien to Edoras, hence its last minute inclusion in this chapter. Things were a little frosty and wary between Treebeard and Celeborn as is well documented: Celeborn warned the Fellowship against going into Fangorn, and Treebeard told the hobbits Lothlorien was a dangerous place. Nimrodel felt threatened, it was said, when she tried to enter the forest, and in UT it says Treebeard and Celeborn came to a sort of agreement that no ent or elf would be harmed in either's realm, but in truth few if any ever came each others way. Hence the hesitancy and wariness of all involved in this chapter.

3. Apologies for the run of Aistaire songs as titles – seem to be channelling old Fred at the moment.





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