"Desperate Entwives" by Lyra
Mar. 26th, 2013 10:19 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
oloriel.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
b2memB2MeM Challenge: B2MeM '13 - Wildcard Day: Finish something!; Wildcard Day: Go where the stars are strange; March 7 - Ents; B2MeM '12 - O64 (Crossovers I: ...with one of Tolkien's other writings)
Format: Chaptered fic
Genre: Crossover
Rating: General
Warnings: N/A
Characters: Rover, Little Boy Two, Entish OFCs
Pairings: N/A (possibly allusions to Greyleaf/Quickbeam in later chapters?)
Summary: One beautiful summer evening, Rover and Little Boy Two make some strange acquaintances. A Roverandom/Lord of the Rings crossover... sort of.
Desperate Entwives
Chapter I
Rover ran along the road happily. It was a beautiful summer evening, with the warm, dry smells of sun-baked earth and dust, of almost-ripe corn, of wood. A thousand exciting smells there were, too: all the crisscrossing tracks of squirrels and mice, cats and dogs, prey and friends and rivals; the rubber traces of bicycles and the rare cars; traces of leather shoes and sweaty bare feet. Rover basked in all this richness as he ran along. Moreover, he knew that the summer holidays were at hand. Little Boy Two, who had trouble keeping up with Rover, would not have to go to school for two blessed months. This meant plenty of time for long walks and games and adventures, for roaming the woods and roads and going to bed late. It would be wonderful.
An alien smell assaulted Rover's nose, emanating from a small copse of trees between two fields. Had a new dog visited the area and left his mark there? Was there a rabbit-hole hidden among the roots? Or was it some other kind of mystery? Whatever it was, it had to be investigated! Rover left the road and made his way through the field, past the stalks of wheat, past the cornflowers and poppies. He heard Little Boy Two call out behind him, but he could not stop now; he was on the scent and had to find out what it was all about.
Yet, when he had reached the copse of trees, he was frustrated. Rover sniffed everything meticulously – roots, bark, low branches and all – but could not find out where the smell originated, or indeed what smell it was. He sniffed for so long that Little Boy Two, who had to take the narrow path instead of running through the field as Rover had done, was catching up with him.
"Well," Rover said to himself, "at least it was a merry chase."
He made to raise his hind leg against one of the trees, a shapely willow, so he would be able to pounce Little Boy Two all the more easily afterwards. Just when he was about to turn the hose on, he thought he heard the tree sigh, slowly and pointedly.
Confused, Rover looked up into the branches. There was no wind, he noticed, yet they were shifting and dancing as if moved by an invisible breeze – or, maybe, by someone who was hiding in the tree's crown.
"Hello?" Rover called cautiously. "Is anybody up there?"
There was another slow sigh. Then a matronly voice that immediately put Rover in mind of cough syrup and wet packs said, "Yes indeed."
"Oh," Rover said, putting his leg back on the ground. "I did not realise. Apologies."
"What a well-mannered little dog," said a voice from the crown of the neighbouring oak. It sounded strangely leathery, but cheerful like a casket of wine. "We really appreciate your thoughtfulness."
"Of course," Rover said. After all, he had learned that it was risky to be impolite to strangers.
Little Boy Two, panting from the effort, reached the copse. Rover's chance for a surprise attack was ruined – and he was really feeling his bladder now. He stepped from leg to leg awkwardly.
"Where are you going?" Little Boy Two huffed. "We're supposed to be back in time for supper, there's no time for exploring. We can do that tomorrow."
"There are people in the trees," Rover said by way of replying.
"What do you mean?" asked Little Boy Two, peering into the branches. "I can't see anyone."
"Me neither," said Rover, "but I could hear them all right." He ran a bit into the cornfield to relieve himself; it was not a good spot to mark, but it would have to do.
Little Boy Two walked around the trees, still staring intently upwards. "Hello?" he called. "Who's hiding there?"
A cheerful voice came from the oak, making Little Boy Two jump. "You are barking up the wrong tree, little biped," it said. "Barking up the wrong tree. Hah. Did you hear that?"
"Perfectly well," sighed the voice from the willow so Little Boy Two turned his head from oak to willow and back again in puzzlement. "And it is not getting any funnier when you repeat it," added the willow-voice.
"Oh, stop complaining," said a voice from the third tree, a rowan. "You couldn't keep your mouth shut in the first place. Now you've given us all away."
"Erm, pardon me," Little Boy Two spoke up. "Who are you?"
"Yes, I suppose we might as well introduce ourselves," the voice from the rowan said; it somehow made Rover think of a pretty plump girl with a face full of freckles and an easy laugh. "For the sake of brevity, you may call me... hm... Greyleaf. The others are Halebark and Hardwood."
"Tut, tut," said the voice in the willow. "I can introduce myself, you know."
"Yes, but you would have taken a long time to do so. This is more to the point."
"Well, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Greyleaf. Miss Halebark, Miss Hardwood... my name is Michael, and this is Rover," Little Boy Two said, frowning in confusion but making a polite bow while Rover was jumping around him in circles, still trying to see who was sitting in the trees. "But to be honest, I still don't know who and where you are."
"Ahhhhhhh," said the voice in the willow, and all the leaves rustled as in a sudden breeze. "We... are Entwives."
Little Boy Two was too polite to ask further – for of course he still had no idea who they were – so Rover had to speak up in his place. "And how did you get into those trees?"
"Hmpf!" made the voice in the willow, sounding affronted, but the voices from the rowan and oak laughed. "Sweet little dog, we are not in the trees. We are the trees."
"Can't be," Rover (his pride bristling at the "sweet little dog") said at once. "We've come past here a lot of times and the trees never talked."
"Well, we don't talk to just anybody," said the willow in a very uppish voice. "I wouldn't have said anything today if you hadn't made to empty your bladder all over my roots."
Rover had the good grace to look embarrassed. He wondered whether any of the other trees against which he'd lifted his leg could talk, too, and whether any of them bore grudges.
"Besides," the rowan said, sounding a lot friendlier, "we may have been napping for a while. But if you don't believe us, you can ask Perdig, we spoke with him a lot – earlier."
"I don't know a Perdig," Little Boy Two said, frowning. "What an odd name. And besides, we have to go home or we'll be late for supper."
"Mortals, always busy," the willow said, still somewhat stuck-up. "Well, Perdig was training to be a druid when we last spoke. As Sister... hmpf... Greyleaf said, we've been napping a little, so he is probably grown-up by now. Ask for Perdig the Druid. He was very gifted even as a youngster, so he must be quite famous now."
"All right!" said Little Boy Two. "We will. But now we really must go or my parents will be worried. Um. Nice to have met you!"
Somehow, Rover got the impression that the rowan gave a little curtsy, although of course that was impossible. The willow and the oak merely swayed a little. "You too, Maikel," the oak said.
"And Rover, of course," said the rowan with a friendly little laugh.
"Woof," said Rover, who was still worrying about the revenge of the trees.
Note: I owe the title of "Desperate Entwives" to a comment overread somewhere in last year's B2MeM madness. Unfortunately, I forgot to note the name of the genius who coined that phrase, so if it was you, please speak up so I can credit properly!
Format: Chaptered fic
Genre: Crossover
Rating: General
Warnings: N/A
Characters: Rover, Little Boy Two, Entish OFCs
Pairings: N/A (possibly allusions to Greyleaf/Quickbeam in later chapters?)
Summary: One beautiful summer evening, Rover and Little Boy Two make some strange acquaintances. A Roverandom/Lord of the Rings crossover... sort of.
Desperate Entwives
Chapter I
Rover ran along the road happily. It was a beautiful summer evening, with the warm, dry smells of sun-baked earth and dust, of almost-ripe corn, of wood. A thousand exciting smells there were, too: all the crisscrossing tracks of squirrels and mice, cats and dogs, prey and friends and rivals; the rubber traces of bicycles and the rare cars; traces of leather shoes and sweaty bare feet. Rover basked in all this richness as he ran along. Moreover, he knew that the summer holidays were at hand. Little Boy Two, who had trouble keeping up with Rover, would not have to go to school for two blessed months. This meant plenty of time for long walks and games and adventures, for roaming the woods and roads and going to bed late. It would be wonderful.
An alien smell assaulted Rover's nose, emanating from a small copse of trees between two fields. Had a new dog visited the area and left his mark there? Was there a rabbit-hole hidden among the roots? Or was it some other kind of mystery? Whatever it was, it had to be investigated! Rover left the road and made his way through the field, past the stalks of wheat, past the cornflowers and poppies. He heard Little Boy Two call out behind him, but he could not stop now; he was on the scent and had to find out what it was all about.
Yet, when he had reached the copse of trees, he was frustrated. Rover sniffed everything meticulously – roots, bark, low branches and all – but could not find out where the smell originated, or indeed what smell it was. He sniffed for so long that Little Boy Two, who had to take the narrow path instead of running through the field as Rover had done, was catching up with him.
"Well," Rover said to himself, "at least it was a merry chase."
He made to raise his hind leg against one of the trees, a shapely willow, so he would be able to pounce Little Boy Two all the more easily afterwards. Just when he was about to turn the hose on, he thought he heard the tree sigh, slowly and pointedly.
Confused, Rover looked up into the branches. There was no wind, he noticed, yet they were shifting and dancing as if moved by an invisible breeze – or, maybe, by someone who was hiding in the tree's crown.
"Hello?" Rover called cautiously. "Is anybody up there?"
There was another slow sigh. Then a matronly voice that immediately put Rover in mind of cough syrup and wet packs said, "Yes indeed."
"Oh," Rover said, putting his leg back on the ground. "I did not realise. Apologies."
"What a well-mannered little dog," said a voice from the crown of the neighbouring oak. It sounded strangely leathery, but cheerful like a casket of wine. "We really appreciate your thoughtfulness."
"Of course," Rover said. After all, he had learned that it was risky to be impolite to strangers.
Little Boy Two, panting from the effort, reached the copse. Rover's chance for a surprise attack was ruined – and he was really feeling his bladder now. He stepped from leg to leg awkwardly.
"Where are you going?" Little Boy Two huffed. "We're supposed to be back in time for supper, there's no time for exploring. We can do that tomorrow."
"There are people in the trees," Rover said by way of replying.
"What do you mean?" asked Little Boy Two, peering into the branches. "I can't see anyone."
"Me neither," said Rover, "but I could hear them all right." He ran a bit into the cornfield to relieve himself; it was not a good spot to mark, but it would have to do.
Little Boy Two walked around the trees, still staring intently upwards. "Hello?" he called. "Who's hiding there?"
A cheerful voice came from the oak, making Little Boy Two jump. "You are barking up the wrong tree, little biped," it said. "Barking up the wrong tree. Hah. Did you hear that?"
"Perfectly well," sighed the voice from the willow so Little Boy Two turned his head from oak to willow and back again in puzzlement. "And it is not getting any funnier when you repeat it," added the willow-voice.
"Oh, stop complaining," said a voice from the third tree, a rowan. "You couldn't keep your mouth shut in the first place. Now you've given us all away."
"Erm, pardon me," Little Boy Two spoke up. "Who are you?"
"Yes, I suppose we might as well introduce ourselves," the voice from the rowan said; it somehow made Rover think of a pretty plump girl with a face full of freckles and an easy laugh. "For the sake of brevity, you may call me... hm... Greyleaf. The others are Halebark and Hardwood."
"Tut, tut," said the voice in the willow. "I can introduce myself, you know."
"Yes, but you would have taken a long time to do so. This is more to the point."
"Well, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Greyleaf. Miss Halebark, Miss Hardwood... my name is Michael, and this is Rover," Little Boy Two said, frowning in confusion but making a polite bow while Rover was jumping around him in circles, still trying to see who was sitting in the trees. "But to be honest, I still don't know who and where you are."
"Ahhhhhhh," said the voice in the willow, and all the leaves rustled as in a sudden breeze. "We... are Entwives."
Little Boy Two was too polite to ask further – for of course he still had no idea who they were – so Rover had to speak up in his place. "And how did you get into those trees?"
"Hmpf!" made the voice in the willow, sounding affronted, but the voices from the rowan and oak laughed. "Sweet little dog, we are not in the trees. We are the trees."
"Can't be," Rover (his pride bristling at the "sweet little dog") said at once. "We've come past here a lot of times and the trees never talked."
"Well, we don't talk to just anybody," said the willow in a very uppish voice. "I wouldn't have said anything today if you hadn't made to empty your bladder all over my roots."
Rover had the good grace to look embarrassed. He wondered whether any of the other trees against which he'd lifted his leg could talk, too, and whether any of them bore grudges.
"Besides," the rowan said, sounding a lot friendlier, "we may have been napping for a while. But if you don't believe us, you can ask Perdig, we spoke with him a lot – earlier."
"I don't know a Perdig," Little Boy Two said, frowning. "What an odd name. And besides, we have to go home or we'll be late for supper."
"Mortals, always busy," the willow said, still somewhat stuck-up. "Well, Perdig was training to be a druid when we last spoke. As Sister... hmpf... Greyleaf said, we've been napping a little, so he is probably grown-up by now. Ask for Perdig the Druid. He was very gifted even as a youngster, so he must be quite famous now."
"All right!" said Little Boy Two. "We will. But now we really must go or my parents will be worried. Um. Nice to have met you!"
Somehow, Rover got the impression that the rowan gave a little curtsy, although of course that was impossible. The willow and the oak merely swayed a little. "You too, Maikel," the oak said.
"And Rover, of course," said the rowan with a friendly little laugh.
"Woof," said Rover, who was still worrying about the revenge of the trees.
Note: I owe the title of "Desperate Entwives" to a comment overread somewhere in last year's B2MeM madness. Unfortunately, I forgot to note the name of the genius who coined that phrase, so if it was you, please speak up so I can credit properly!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2013-03-26 12:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-27 04:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-27 03:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-27 04:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-27 11:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-27 04:42 pm (UTC)Yes, it's kind of sad indeed... at the moment, none of them have a clue just how long they slept. (I'm sure Perdig tried, yes. Maybe he found other Entwives elsewhere. Alternatively, he must have thought that he'd somehow lost his powers, poor fellow!) What's sad also is that I have no clue ATM how to continue this. I mean, short of time-travelling, there isn't really anything they can do to get "back home" >_>
no subject
Date: 2013-03-27 05:56 pm (UTC)...okay I'll shut up now.
no subject
Date: 2013-03-27 07:13 pm (UTC)the ShireMercia. Well, I guess there must have been a few exceptions, but bringing them into this story would ruin recogniseability, so that won't work.Well, this tale must in theory be set in the late 1920s/ early 1930s, so at least the end of the Sixth Age is (relatively) near? Not the end of the world, though; we'd know if that had happened then. ;)
no subject
Date: 2013-03-27 07:49 pm (UTC)Ah, I didn't catch that. But hey, if the end of the world is another century away and Ents still take about a 100 years to wake up...but I guess there would be no point bringing that up in the story anyway, as both Boy 2 and Rover would be dead by the time it'd actually become noticable. xD
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Date: 2013-03-28 09:21 am (UTC)It's not obvious or even deducible from this story. But the incident that led to the telling of the Roverandom story happened in 1925, apparently, so if this is set a couple years later... you do the math. ;)
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Date: 2013-03-31 06:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-04-03 06:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-04-05 05:10 pm (UTC)I love Little Boy Two and Rover's encounter with the Entwife.
I especially love how "doggy" your Rover is, LOL!
no subject
Date: 2013-05-07 05:00 pm (UTC)When all is said and done, Rover is a dog, albeit one with a very unusual past ;)
no subject
Date: 2013-05-07 08:42 pm (UTC)