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Old 04-28-2004, 09:31 AM   #293
mark12_30
Stormdancer of Doom
 
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White Tree Four Trees

The four young men went to the bar, ordered some mild ale, and took their drinks to a table. Morien walked past them, and grunted a greeting, followed by a laugh. "Haven't seen the Three Trees here for quite a while, Hîriest! You come home, and I gain not one customer, but four."

The dusty newcomer grinned at the others. "Your reputation still proceeds you."

"You are one of us yourself!"

"He said Three Trees. Not four."

"You have been gone a whole year. It took half that time til they renamed us."

"What did they call you at first?"

The three younger men exchanged glances. "Different things."

"What things?"

"Four Trees Short One."

"Four Trees Down to Three."

"The Emptying Grove."

Hîriest began to chuckle.

"Four Trees, One Gone."

"Four Trees but One Was An Ent."

Hîriest laughed out loud.

Morien walked past. "My own favorite was, Four Trees But One Took A Wrong Turn."

"I did not take a wrong turn, " objected Hîriest.

"Well, " said Morien, "I still pride myself on being able to tell them apart."

"Really."

Morien nodded.

"Name us, then!"

Morien set down his tray, and cleared his throat. Going around the table from Hîriest's left hand, he pointed. "Doroninn. Gaerbrethil. Calentathar."

All Four Trees shared a smile.

Morien looked from one to the next. "Am I right?"

They laughed. "No."

Morien scowled, and tried again. "Gaerbrethil. Doroninn. Calentathar."

"Try again!"

Morien thought for several moments. "Calentathar. Gaerbrethil. Doroninn."

More laughter gave him his answer, and he snorted in defeat. "Tell me, then!"

"Gaerbrethil, Calentathar, Doroninn!"

"Bah. You trade names each week!"

"Some so accuse us."

Morien stalked off, chuckling.

The boys quieted, and then looked to Hîriest. "So what will your new name be? You can no longer be "Lord of the Wish", for your wish came true, and you travelled beyond Gondor."

"I don't mind my name."

"Oh, but we must give you a new one!"

"Lord of the Horizon!"

Hîriest coughed into his ale.

"Far-Flung Storm!"

"Don't be ridiculous, " Hîriest said.

"Lord of the Rangers?"

Hîriest sighed. "What is wrong with Alagothôn?"

"You cannot be a tree anymore; you have torn up your roots. It no longer suits you."

"Then call me harper, " said Hîriest.

"Harper?"

"That's all? Just... Harper?"

"Too plain!"

Hîriest sat back and waved for another ale. "There is no shame in being plain. Or simple."

Gaerbrethil, Calentathar, and Doroninn exchanged skeptical glances.

"I have been called 'Harper' in many a town. I have gotten used to it. Harper... Talagand... Nandaro..."

The Three Trees were silent, and the signals that passed between them would have puzzled any but Hîriest. He knew they had agreed.

Morien arrived with another ale, and the talk turned to other matters.
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