Treebeard’s Need
Estel Baggins macfal1219@comcast.net
Pairing: Legolas/Treebeard
Rating: I think it’s an R, but I’m not sure. I’ve never written a slash fic 
before.
Summary: While visiting Fangorn Forest with Gimli (post RotK) Legolas 
discovers that Treebeard misses more than just having entlings around.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Treebeard, Legolas, Gimli, the Huorn, or Middle 
Earth.
Author’s Note: This story is in response to the challenge 
“Treebeard/anybody
*denotes Legolas’ thoughts
 
Treebeard’s Need
By: Estel Baggins
 
            Legolas swore. Gimli was going to get them both killed. The dwarf 
faced off against the furious Huorn, axe raised. True, the Huorn had 
started the fight, but Gimli simply wouldn’t do the right, or at least safe, 
thing, and run. *I shouldn’t have brought him back to Fangorn.* “Gimli! 
Follow me!”
            The dwarf didn’t even look at him, which was probably good, 
Legolas reflected, as the Huorn swung at him again, and the dwarf had to 
block the blow with the flat of his axe.
            “Hmm hoom hoom hom what is this?” Treebeard strode into the 
clearing. Legolas wasn’t sure if this was to Gimli’s and his advantage or 
not.
            The oldest Ent stepped between the two fighters, and the Huorn 
stopped at once. Gimli dropped his axe in surprise as Treebeard picked 
him up. “Why are you attacking my trees?”
            “Please, Eldest, don’t hurt him!” Legolas called in elvish, knowing 
that his native language was more respected than the Common Speech.
            Treebeard looked down at him. “Legolas,” he greeted, bowing 
slightly. “It is good to see you.”
            Legolas bowed as well. “I have longed to wander in your woods, 
and have only recently been granted the time and leisure to do so.”
            Gimli squirmed, and Treebeard shook him a little.
            “He didn’t mean any harm. We were confronted by the Huorn, and 
he simply didn’t have the wisdom to back off.”
            Gimli scowled at him, but he said to Treebeard, “I meant no 
offense, Forest-Master.”
            Treebeard set him down, and Gimli staggered slightly. His axe fell 
from his shaking hands. He looked from Treebeard to Legolas. “I think I’ll 
go sleep now,” he said to the elf.
            Legolas nodded. “That’s probably best,” he answered, but he 
smiled at his friend as he said it, and Gimli walked away, appeased.
            “Hmm hoom it has been long since either elves or dwarves walked 
in my forest, and Gimli is certainly the first of his kind to do so freely.”
            “He will not touch any living tree with his axe,” Legolas answered. 
“He is learning respect for nature, under my gentle teaching.” He smiled 
shrewdly, remembering how he had once made Gimli plant three dozen 
saplings to show him how difficult it was for these trees to replenish 
themselves. Gimli had never again touched axe-blade to living bark, 
cutting up only dead stuff for fires at night; he had done so even before 
they entered Fangorn yesterday.
            “I would like to have more of your kind walking here, before the 
Ents pass away.”
            Legolas heard the bottomless sadness in that statement, and he 
stepped closer. “There has been no news of the Entwives?”
            “None, nor do I think there will be. You see, Legolas, we are too 
old to go looking for them. Besides, even if we were young, who would 
stay here to look after the Huorns?”
            Legolas nodded slowly in sympathy and grief darkened his 
features.
            “There is hardly any joy these days,” Treebeard mourned. He 
looked down at the elf, and decided he could speak freely. “Like elves and 
dwarves, we too have needs that can no longer be filled.”
            “You speak of more than entlings,” Legolas answered softly, 
meeting the changeable fading-leaf-green eyes.
            “Hmm hoom hoom I do indeed.”
            “Are there none but Entwives who can fill your needs?” Legolas 
did not blush, though these were things kept secret by many races. 
However, elves spoke openly of their needs to each other, and so he found 
it comfortable to be able to discuss such matters frankly.
            “There are two ways to bring Ents the pleasure they crave. One can 
be done solely by the Entwives, and the other can be done by anyone with 
a singing voice more beautiful than rivers chasing each other downhill.” 
He met Legolas’ gaze boldly. “Only elves have such voices, though I 
know of one man who tried.”
            “What are your beliefs in such matters? Must two be married for 
this pleasure to occur?”
            “Hmmm no. Elves, in the old days, came often to sing for us and 
bring us joy. And we pleasured them as well.”
            Legolas had a fleeting, vivid image of Treebeard trying to work 
one of his limbs into a miniscule elven hole, and he felt his body tense. 
Consciously, he relaxed, telling himself it must feel good if the elves came 
back time and again. “May I sing for you?”
            Treebeard smiled. “You may, indeed, and then I will give you 
pleasure in like kind, though I must warn you: many elves caressed by 
Ents have never been able to return to sex with their own kind. It pales in 
comparison.”
            *I always thought I would be a bachelor through all my long 
years.* “That does not concern me. When may I start?”
            Treebeard said, “Let me lay down first, as it is hard to stand when I 
am in the throes of passion.”
            Legolas grinned slightly. *Maybe he’s not so different from others 
I have been with.* He at once began a song of the trees of Lothlorien, in 
all their Eldar Day splendor. Because the song ended sadly, he changed to 
a song of Valinor’s trees, and then back again, making up new verses as he 
went.
            At first, Treebeard only lay very still, breathing deeply. Then 
Legolas began to feel a low vibration coming up under his feet, and he 
realized Treebeard was humming deep in his throat. The sensation made 
the very tips of Legolas’ sensitive ears tingle, and though it was a new 
feeling, it was pleasant.
            He was just starting to feel completely relaxed, letting himself 
sway slightly in time with the rumbling ground under his feet when the 
first flower burst forth, near what might have been called Treebeard’s 
chin. The old Ent gave a great HOOM! of anticipation and need mixed. 
Legolas continued his song, barely daring to breathe. Flower after flower 
sprang to life where Legolas had thought there was only bark. They 
unfurled and boasted their multi-colored blooms to the sky. Red, yellow, 
orange, these were there, but then starlight-tinted silver ones, and delicate 
gold-purple ones (which were accompanied by tiny gasps from Treebeard) 
joined them.
            The flowers ran down his trunk, towards his ‘roots’; Legolas 
watched in fascination, though his song never faltered.
            Then Treebeard gave a great, shuddering cry, and pollen exploded 
from every flower and soared through the warm air. Much of it was gold, 
but mixed with that were vibrant green and blue. It landed everywhere, 
and in each place it touched the earth, tiny flowers sprang up. Some of the 
pollen settled in Legolas’ hair, and where it fell, he felt a thrill of pleasure 
that began at the points of contact, ran down to his toes and back up.
            “Hmmm hoom HOOM HOOOMMMM!” Treebeard panted until 
he could breathe normally again, then he looked for Legolas. The elf was 
kneeling on the grass, unable to hold himself up any longer. He had fallen 
silent, and could do no more than take in the reaction of what had just 
occurred.
            “Do you want me to give you a moment before I return the favor?” 
Treebeard asked carefully.
            Legolas looked up with eager eyes. “Please don’t wait,” he begged.
            The oldest Ent picked up Legolas carefully in one hand. He rolled 
onto his back, and put the elf on his chest. “There is a small green stalk 
right in front of you. Touch it with your tongue.”
            Legolas blinked. “All right.” He crawled forward, and found the 
green stalk, which was almost as tall as he was. He licked it, feeling a cool 
liquid trickle over his tongue. His body reacted immediately, and he felt 
himself get hard.
            “You might want to remove your clothes, to save them from a 
mess,” Treebeard suggested gently, and Legolas discarded them in haste, 
wanting to taste the liquid again, and feel that shock of pleasure.
            “Not yet,” said Treebeard as Legolas turned back towards the stalk. 
“Let me do something first.” He picked up Legolas, again carefully, and 
brought him towards his mouth. Before Legolas had time to feel 
frightened, Treebeard licked him, starting just under his chin and ending 
under his toes. Legolas released a moan of desire.
            Treebeard put him back where he’d been before. “Now you may 
continue.”
            Legolas swallowed more and more of the clear liquid, groaning in 
his pleasure through each mouthful.
            Legolas shuddered from head to toe, and then he felt his release 
coming. The last bit of liquid to cross his lips made Legolas throw back 
his head and scream his climax.
            Legolas glanced down as his passion was sated, and saw that he’d 
spilled on the old Ent. He blushed slightly. “I’m sorry-” he began.
            “I like it,” Treebeard answered. “I have not felt or given such 
pleasure since the Second Age of this world.”
 
            An hour later, Legolas wandered into camp. Gimli was cooking 
something that smelled like deer, though Legolas didn’t trust his usually 
sharp senses at the moment. The aftereffects of his pleasure were making 
it hard for him to walk straight, let alone notice much around him.
            “You had quite a good time,” Gimli noted.
            Legolas sank onto the grass near the fire. He was too dazed to feel 
surprised at Gimli’s words. He asked blankly, “You were watching us?”
            “When I heard Treebeard yelling, I was afraid you were offending 
him,” the dwarf answered.
            That cleared Legolas’ head a little. “I? Offend Treebeard?” he 
asked in mock consternation. “No, Gimli, only you can do that with any 
success.”
 
THE END