Work Text:
She weighed the acorn in her palm. She had others in her bag, beechnuts as well. Once, her people had fought against the felling of the trees. They had been defeated. It had taken generations, but now the Numenoreans had left. Her people had retreated, together with the forest, but they were not gone entirely. Now they were edging back. She and her acorn were just the vanguard. She walked forward among crumbling ruins, looking for a good spot.
She planted her first acorn in old Vinyalonde. In time the towers would fall entirely and the trees would rise again.
MayaMarkova Tue 06 Sep 2022 08:48PM UTC
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wisteria53 Tue 06 Sep 2022 09:56PM UTC
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Zdenka Tue 06 Sep 2022 10:09PM UTC
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Himring Tue 06 Sep 2022 11:21PM UTC
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