Chapter Text
Spring is in full bloom and after a long week of work, Laida escapes to the orchard. She is no grove tender, like her father was, but she grew up here, playing between the roots of trees that have stood here for generations.
The orchard remains her safe haven, and besides, it’s always lovely to catch up with old friends.
Laida settles amongst Brightblossom’s roots, briefly caressing the bark of her trunk in greeting. A soft hum greets her in turn and Brightblossom shakes her branches. White petals float down to land in Laida’s hair and beard.
The days are growing longer and as the warmth returns to the world, so does Brightblossom’s energy.
With the exception of their more coniferous siblings, the ents living nearby fall quiet in winter, preserving their energy during the cold and dark days.
“It is almost time for the Awakening. Everyone is incredibly excited. Vilok has not stopped talking about it since the town criers announced it two weeks ago. It will be the first time she is allowed to stay up for the songs.”
“That is quite exciting indeed. You must make sure to introduce us,” Brightblossom hums.
Laida smiles. “I will. Truth be told, I would not be surprised if Vilok follows in the family footsteps and becomes a grove tender herself. Already she has displayed great interest in my brother’s work.”
Brightblossom stretches, her wooden limbs creaking. “Then I cannot wait to meet her.”
The day of the Awakening dawns far quicker than Laida expects. As always, there are a dozen last minute preparations to complete. She packs a picnic basket with tonight’s dinner, gathers a blanket and her cloak, for the nights are still chilly, even though spring is here at last, and then, it is finally time to get dressed.
Vilok asked to get ready with her, and so Laida braids tiny bells into her niece’s hair and helps her put on the bracelets and anklets traditionally worn when dancing.
Vilok shakes her body and delights when her jewellery clinks and tinkles like a wind chime on a stormy day.
Laida slips on her own bracelets, takes Vilok in one hand and the picnic basket in the other, and walks the two of them down towards the orchard.
Vilok looks up, confused. “That is not the way to the festival, Aunt.”
“It is not, you are quite right, gemstone. But there is someone I wanted to introduce you to before we go to the festival proper,” Laida explains.
“Really? Do they live near the orchard? Is it a friend?”
“One of my very best friends. Here we are now, nearly there,” Laida replies as she walks through the orchard gate. “Hello again, Brightblossom. I would like you to meet my niece, Vilok. Vilok, this is Brightblossom.”
“Hello little one. Your aunt has spoken fondly of you. I am glad to meet you.” Brightblossom extends a long-fingered hand, and Vilok grasps it, eyes wide with wonder.
“You are an Ent! You are taller than I imagined. Do you live in the orchard? Do you like it here? Have you seen the lands on the other side of the sea?”
Laida puts her hand over her niece’s mouth. “Breathe, gemstone. Brightblossom cannot answer any of your questions if you keep asking more!”
Vilok bounces on her toes, bells jingling, but bites her lip before more questions come spilling out.
Brightblossom laughs a deep, rumbling laugh that shakes her branches. “You have many questions, little one. I will try to answer some of them, but it will take some time. We Ents are slow folk, you see, and answers often require explanations first, if they are to make sense.”
Vilok sits down and stares up at Brightblossom in barely contained anticipation.
Brightblossom hums and begins her tale.
“When winter stretches across the land and the cold seeps into my roots, I sleep and sometimes I dream. Dream, or perhaps, remember. My mind wanders back along the paths I took in ages long since passed, to places I can never return to. I recalled our wanderings, the great journey of the Ents. The Dark One had come with fire, and he burnt our gardens, our homes, and we fled. Eastward we went like we had once before, and one day, we arrived here.”
She falls silent, deep in thought.
The wind rustles through the trees, and Laida hears the sounds of the festival echoing in the distance. She does not speak up, unwilling to disturb Brightblossom’s musings.
“It is strange, is it not? We came here, and we met your folk, and at first, we were wary. The Entweras had told us of forests cut down to feed forge fires, and the Green Lady made us to care for the trees and protect them, so it seemed impossible that we would become friends. And yet… and yet, here your people were. You cut down trees, but you still care for them. You replant what you take and never take too much. You worship Yavanna, and you grow gardens, just like we do. For such a small folk, you are full of contradictions.”
Vilok giggles at that and Brightblossom gently picks both of them up. Laida gasps in surprise, but there is no fear. They sit in the cradle of Brightblossom’s hands, and her friend looks them straight in the eye.
The eyes of an Ent are strange things. If Laida had to put a name to it, she would compare them to moss agate, but no gemstone could ever capture the unfathomable depth of Brightblossom’s eyes.
When Brightblossom speaks again, there is a gravity in her voice that was not there before.
“I am glad one of your people chose to approach us. Chose to offer peace and friendship. We would have been content to move on and find different homes, and our lives would have been greyer for it. Your lives last but a fraction of my own, but like the flowers in my garden that bloom for only a short time, each one of you that I have met has brightened my life and I care for you no less for the briefness of our friendship.
Some think that the grove tenders only came into being with us, after us, but that is not true. There were grove tenders here already when we came here and it was one of them that came to us. She never learnt the true impact of her actions that day, and just like you take this day to celebrate our friendship and welcome us back from our wintery rest, we take this day to honour our first friend. We owe her a debt of gratitude that we will never be able to repay.”
Laida reaches out to rub across Brightblossom’s hand. “I do not know her name, but tonight I will dance for the Awakening and when our songs reach out to the sky, I will think of the first Dwarf to be your friend and I will praise her bravery and thank her for the gift she is still giving us generations and generations later.”
Brightblossom sighs and a fond smile plays on her lips. “Her name was Vilok. And though you, young Vilok, look nothing like her, meeting you and hearing your name still brought back many happy memories. I thank you for that and I hope that, wherever your path in life leads, it will lead you to friends as true as my Vilok was all those years ago.”