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b2mem2014-03-24 01:30 am
kinirohana.livejournal.com) wrote in b2mem2014-03-24 01:30 am
Entry tags:
Gaining Favor
Title: Gaining Favor
Author Name: kinirohana
Prompt:"In the willow-meads of Tasarinan I walked in the Spring.
Ah! the sight and the smell of the Spring in Nan-tasarion!
And I said that was good.
I wandered in Summer in the elm-woods of Ossiriand.
Ah! the light and the music in the Summer by the Seven Rivers of Ossir!
And I thought that was best.
To the beeches of Neldoreth I came in the Autumn.
Ah! the gold and the red and the sighing of leaves in the Autumn in Taur-na-neldor!
It was more than my desire.
To the pine-trees upon the highland of Dorthonion I climbed in the Winter.
Ah! the wind and the whiteness and the black branches of Winter upon Orod-na-Thôn!
My voice went up and sang in the sky.
And now all those lands lie under the wave,
And I walk in Ambarona, in Tauremorna, in Aldalómë,
In my own land, in the country of Fangorn,
Where the roots are long,
And the years lie thicker than the leaves
In Tauremornalómë.
After finishing this song Treebeard walked on silently through the silent woods." (The Two Towers, "Treebeard")
Summary: Dislike of Dwarven axes wasn't the only reason the Ents destroyed them as they ran from their crimes.
Rating: Teens
Warnings: Tree carnage, acidic sarcasm
Beta:
Author's Notes: If there is something wrong with the formatting, please forgive me. Please leave constructive criticism.
The roaring of the wind was all he heard as he continued to guide the column of elves up the mountainside. Dior was leading one of several yearly expeditions deep into the forested foothills of the Blue Mountains to collect loose wood for their settlements, as his father was aging and preferring more and more the security of his island. They had predicted a storm occurring in the next few days, but had failed to foresee the shear ferocity of the winds they were met with. all around them trees creaked and groaned under the onslaught, as if they were in pain. the rain did not fall so much as pelt, and overall every creature forced to endure the open wrath of the storm was not enjoying itself in the least.
"Taurion, get your ass up here and help me look for the caves! I can barely see my own hand in this!"
"Dior, despite popular rumor to the contrary, your eyes are just as good as mine! If you can't see it, then it's not there yet!" They had to yell to be heard, even when Taurion trudged up beside his friend, helping in the search despite his surly response.
"But you're sure this is the right area?"
"As sure as a blind elf in a storm can be! That old oak we passed with the giant roots was my closest landmark. If we've not been blown off course by the wind, then the caves should be ahead!"
"If you get us lost in this, you're not living it down!"
"At least that means we'll both be alive for you to torment me about it!"
Soon after their conversation ended, they came upon a place where there were no trees, only boulders and flowing mud. The storm had caused a landslide, crushing the forest that impeded its path. Yet it worked to their benefit, for now they could clearly see the gaping mouth of a cave, the entrance made massive by dirt washing away from the ceiling and sides. It was slick, dangerous going to get all thirty-odd elves up the muddy deathtrap, but after significant amounts of scrambling, cursing and sprained ankles, they made it to shelter.
"Do we have everyone?! Stand clear of each other so we can count!" Taurion clapped his hands together for their attention, having removed his muddied gloves. Dior stood at the entrance, scanning the deluge for stragglers.
"Taurion, we lost one!" Even as he shouted this, Dior was leaping from the stone he'd perched on, loping down the hillside as quickly as he could. Not far from the cave, a thin arm was waving from behind a boulder.
"We'll lose you too, if you run over mud-slathered rock like its a summer field!" None of the men who followed behind him wanted to point out the inherent hypocrisy of Taurion yelling that while jumping over boulders like a mountain goat.
"It's not one of ours! It's looks like Tree-herder, probably got trapped when the mountain broke. Saerlas, Argon, lift that side! Taurion, with me! Ready, heave!"
Together, they lifted the stone, revealing the twisted torso of the Entling it had trapped. Its boughs were broken in several places, pale splinters sticking out of the mud like grasping fingers. The rain quickly turned the exposed earth to mud, and the second boulder was much more difficult than the first. It took a fifth man to get it lifted, and Dior nearly lost a hand when Saerlas' grip slipped and sent the slab crashing into another. Even after the rocks were gone, finding what was part of the Entling and what no longer was nearly made them sick. No one spoke it, but in their hearts they were seeing other limbs, hearing other voices moan in agony.
"Bring it up to the cave!" Dior ordered, gingerly holding the Entling's shoulders while Taurion and Saerlas supported the middle and feet. In their absence, the others had succeeded in setting up camp, complete with a roaring fire despite their drenched tinder. Unfortunately, the Entling knew the meaning of fire and let out a screech, feebly wiggling itself to escape the danger it sensed. They lowered it to the ground carefully while others dampened the fire with mud from the entrance, sealing away both the fire and the smell of burning wood.
"Well then! No possibility of fire, Osse throwing a temper tantrum outside, and Elbereth-only-knows-what hiding in the back end of this cave. Excellent holiday this has turned out to be indeed." Argon sulked as he stripped off his soaked tunic, throwing it at the wall in frustration.
"I'm sorry Argon, let us just burn the dead flesh of the injured Entling's family to alleviate your nigh endless suffering on this voluntary excursion!" Taurion threw his muddy gloves at his cousin's face, and chucked his breeches as well when the gloves missed their mark.
"Good to know the rain hasn't dampened your fiery tempers any." Dior groused as he sat awkwardly next to his charge. "If they could actually keep us warm, we might finally have a use for you two!"
"You're not one to talk!" Both cousins snapped back, and before he knew it Dior found his face uncomfortably close to the seat of Saerlas' breeches.
"Do you think he'll be alright?" Saerlas came over to where the Entling was laid and crouched next to its un-moving form. He gently ran a hand along its
"Ents are stronger than us, in enough time he'll be able to regrow what was lost. But he needs to get back to his herd soon. There's no way the landslide covered them all." Taurion replied, standing behind Saerlas to look on their new charge.
"Well, no one's going anywhere till this storm is over, at the least."
--
It wasn't daylight which awoke them from sleep, but rather a booming unlike any they'd heard before. Scrambling for weapons, the sentries who'd been on watch bade them be still. Outside, the wind rustled in the leaves.
"It seems our friend is being missed. Let us reunite him with his kin." Dior was, as always, the first to react. He pulled his hair back, preening slightly despite knowing such gestures were lost on the Shepherds. Together, they stepped into the forest. Dressed in yesterday's mud-caked clothes, he hardly looked the part of Thingol's heir. Taurion followed close behind, directing the group who carried the young Ent.
"Oh Shepherds of the Forest, we do not mean your child harm! We rescued him from the mountain's wrath, for we know that the Shepherds love their children just dearly as we. We will return him to you with gladness, and we pray his recovery will be swift as the oncoming of spring!" He stepped aside to allow the group to bring the young Ent forward. As it emerged from the cave, a great creaking arose from the forest. A tall hawthorn which had previously appeared to be perfectly stationary arose and shook itself. Great, deep eyes surveyed the group with care, pausing over Dior and the form of the injured child. When its inspection was completed, it crossed the distance between itself and the elven party in a single stride.
"Harrum. Thank you Dior, son of Luthien, daughter of Melian Dew-Bringer." The Ent knelt and reached for its young, picking it up from the elves' grasp with long, root-like fingers.
"Will he be well again?" Saerlas asked, tentatively meeting the Ent's golden-green eyes. It was like staring into the sunset through the leaves, and he fought the urge to look away.
"It will be long. All in its time. Our roots run deep, our leaves spread wide. She will grow tall, and your grand-grandchildren's grandchildren shall play on her boughs, hide in her roots. When that time comes, she will remember you, Dior son of Luthien, daughter of Melian Dew-Bringer, though you may be far away."
"No matter how far I go, my children will remember in my stead. There shall be friendship between us and the Ents even unto the darkest of days." With a slow nod, the Ent rose and walked at a swift pace to the south and east, leaving them to their business. They reentered the cave, and began to make ready to depart.
When they emerged from the cave, they began the slow descent down the barren mountainside.
Author Name: kinirohana
Prompt:"In the willow-meads of Tasarinan I walked in the Spring.
Ah! the sight and the smell of the Spring in Nan-tasarion!
And I said that was good.
I wandered in Summer in the elm-woods of Ossiriand.
Ah! the light and the music in the Summer by the Seven Rivers of Ossir!
And I thought that was best.
To the beeches of Neldoreth I came in the Autumn.
Ah! the gold and the red and the sighing of leaves in the Autumn in Taur-na-neldor!
It was more than my desire.
To the pine-trees upon the highland of Dorthonion I climbed in the Winter.
Ah! the wind and the whiteness and the black branches of Winter upon Orod-na-Thôn!
My voice went up and sang in the sky.
And now all those lands lie under the wave,
And I walk in Ambarona, in Tauremorna, in Aldalómë,
In my own land, in the country of Fangorn,
Where the roots are long,
And the years lie thicker than the leaves
In Tauremornalómë.
After finishing this song Treebeard walked on silently through the silent woods." (The Two Towers, "Treebeard")
Summary: Dislike of Dwarven axes wasn't the only reason the Ents destroyed them as they ran from their crimes.
Rating: Teens
Warnings: Tree carnage, acidic sarcasm
Beta:
Author's Notes: If there is something wrong with the formatting, please forgive me. Please leave constructive criticism.
The roaring of the wind was all he heard as he continued to guide the column of elves up the mountainside. Dior was leading one of several yearly expeditions deep into the forested foothills of the Blue Mountains to collect loose wood for their settlements, as his father was aging and preferring more and more the security of his island. They had predicted a storm occurring in the next few days, but had failed to foresee the shear ferocity of the winds they were met with. all around them trees creaked and groaned under the onslaught, as if they were in pain. the rain did not fall so much as pelt, and overall every creature forced to endure the open wrath of the storm was not enjoying itself in the least.
"Taurion, get your ass up here and help me look for the caves! I can barely see my own hand in this!"
"Dior, despite popular rumor to the contrary, your eyes are just as good as mine! If you can't see it, then it's not there yet!" They had to yell to be heard, even when Taurion trudged up beside his friend, helping in the search despite his surly response.
"But you're sure this is the right area?"
"As sure as a blind elf in a storm can be! That old oak we passed with the giant roots was my closest landmark. If we've not been blown off course by the wind, then the caves should be ahead!"
"If you get us lost in this, you're not living it down!"
"At least that means we'll both be alive for you to torment me about it!"
Soon after their conversation ended, they came upon a place where there were no trees, only boulders and flowing mud. The storm had caused a landslide, crushing the forest that impeded its path. Yet it worked to their benefit, for now they could clearly see the gaping mouth of a cave, the entrance made massive by dirt washing away from the ceiling and sides. It was slick, dangerous going to get all thirty-odd elves up the muddy deathtrap, but after significant amounts of scrambling, cursing and sprained ankles, they made it to shelter.
"Do we have everyone?! Stand clear of each other so we can count!" Taurion clapped his hands together for their attention, having removed his muddied gloves. Dior stood at the entrance, scanning the deluge for stragglers.
"Taurion, we lost one!" Even as he shouted this, Dior was leaping from the stone he'd perched on, loping down the hillside as quickly as he could. Not far from the cave, a thin arm was waving from behind a boulder.
"We'll lose you too, if you run over mud-slathered rock like its a summer field!" None of the men who followed behind him wanted to point out the inherent hypocrisy of Taurion yelling that while jumping over boulders like a mountain goat.
"It's not one of ours! It's looks like Tree-herder, probably got trapped when the mountain broke. Saerlas, Argon, lift that side! Taurion, with me! Ready, heave!"
Together, they lifted the stone, revealing the twisted torso of the Entling it had trapped. Its boughs were broken in several places, pale splinters sticking out of the mud like grasping fingers. The rain quickly turned the exposed earth to mud, and the second boulder was much more difficult than the first. It took a fifth man to get it lifted, and Dior nearly lost a hand when Saerlas' grip slipped and sent the slab crashing into another. Even after the rocks were gone, finding what was part of the Entling and what no longer was nearly made them sick. No one spoke it, but in their hearts they were seeing other limbs, hearing other voices moan in agony.
"Bring it up to the cave!" Dior ordered, gingerly holding the Entling's shoulders while Taurion and Saerlas supported the middle and feet. In their absence, the others had succeeded in setting up camp, complete with a roaring fire despite their drenched tinder. Unfortunately, the Entling knew the meaning of fire and let out a screech, feebly wiggling itself to escape the danger it sensed. They lowered it to the ground carefully while others dampened the fire with mud from the entrance, sealing away both the fire and the smell of burning wood.
"Well then! No possibility of fire, Osse throwing a temper tantrum outside, and Elbereth-only-knows-what hiding in the back end of this cave. Excellent holiday this has turned out to be indeed." Argon sulked as he stripped off his soaked tunic, throwing it at the wall in frustration.
"I'm sorry Argon, let us just burn the dead flesh of the injured Entling's family to alleviate your nigh endless suffering on this voluntary excursion!" Taurion threw his muddy gloves at his cousin's face, and chucked his breeches as well when the gloves missed their mark.
"Good to know the rain hasn't dampened your fiery tempers any." Dior groused as he sat awkwardly next to his charge. "If they could actually keep us warm, we might finally have a use for you two!"
"You're not one to talk!" Both cousins snapped back, and before he knew it Dior found his face uncomfortably close to the seat of Saerlas' breeches.
"Do you think he'll be alright?" Saerlas came over to where the Entling was laid and crouched next to its un-moving form. He gently ran a hand along its
"Ents are stronger than us, in enough time he'll be able to regrow what was lost. But he needs to get back to his herd soon. There's no way the landslide covered them all." Taurion replied, standing behind Saerlas to look on their new charge.
"Well, no one's going anywhere till this storm is over, at the least."
--
It wasn't daylight which awoke them from sleep, but rather a booming unlike any they'd heard before. Scrambling for weapons, the sentries who'd been on watch bade them be still. Outside, the wind rustled in the leaves.
"It seems our friend is being missed. Let us reunite him with his kin." Dior was, as always, the first to react. He pulled his hair back, preening slightly despite knowing such gestures were lost on the Shepherds. Together, they stepped into the forest. Dressed in yesterday's mud-caked clothes, he hardly looked the part of Thingol's heir. Taurion followed close behind, directing the group who carried the young Ent.
"Oh Shepherds of the Forest, we do not mean your child harm! We rescued him from the mountain's wrath, for we know that the Shepherds love their children just dearly as we. We will return him to you with gladness, and we pray his recovery will be swift as the oncoming of spring!" He stepped aside to allow the group to bring the young Ent forward. As it emerged from the cave, a great creaking arose from the forest. A tall hawthorn which had previously appeared to be perfectly stationary arose and shook itself. Great, deep eyes surveyed the group with care, pausing over Dior and the form of the injured child. When its inspection was completed, it crossed the distance between itself and the elven party in a single stride.
"Harrum. Thank you Dior, son of Luthien, daughter of Melian Dew-Bringer." The Ent knelt and reached for its young, picking it up from the elves' grasp with long, root-like fingers.
"Will he be well again?" Saerlas asked, tentatively meeting the Ent's golden-green eyes. It was like staring into the sunset through the leaves, and he fought the urge to look away.
"It will be long. All in its time. Our roots run deep, our leaves spread wide. She will grow tall, and your grand-grandchildren's grandchildren shall play on her boughs, hide in her roots. When that time comes, she will remember you, Dior son of Luthien, daughter of Melian Dew-Bringer, though you may be far away."
"No matter how far I go, my children will remember in my stead. There shall be friendship between us and the Ents even unto the darkest of days." With a slow nod, the Ent rose and walked at a swift pace to the south and east, leaving them to their business. They reentered the cave, and began to make ready to depart.
When they emerged from the cave, they began the slow descent down the barren mountainside.
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How to make one is actually on the B2MeM FAQ, but all you have to do is edit the post and put one in. (And yes, even though the post was in a moderation queue -- it's still your post so you can edit it whenever you want.)
I'd say you should just put <*lj-cut> (take out the asterisk) just after your author's note.
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My imagination ran away with me at this line.
"She will grow tall, and your grand-grandchildren's grandchildren shall play on her boughs, hide in her roots."
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It is good to see a story about young Dior and also about the Ents in Beleriand.
Well told!
Volume 115 / Issue 13
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It was like staring into the sunset through the leaves
Loved that line. And I'm with Oshun. The line about the future of that entling is a major plot bunny!
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