Home Tree

By Threetoe

Gelf swung from a vine to his home in the trees. He had spent the day gallavanting with friends and he was ready for some alone time. He called the fireflies into his house, a knot of a huge tree, so he could read the book made from living leaves. He was wet from the way home as the High Elves had called on the rain on account of the siege. For days the dwarves had been trying to set fire to the forest. At first they had tried to chop down the home trees, but the magic of the High Elves had caused the bark to grow as hard as steel.

The tree shuddered.

Gelf looked out his window to see what was going on. The dwarves had tunneled under the trees and were hacking at the roots. Gelf and a hundred other elves rappelled down the trees on vines while their heart-friends rained arrows down upon the dwarves. But it was too late, the dwarves were under the trees.

Gelf found the entrance to one of the tunnels and, notching an arrow, went inside. A dwarf spotted him and charged. Gelf shot him in the face with the barbed arrow. The dwarf reeled and retreated. The passage was narrow and twisted. Too small for an elf. There was no room for a ranged attack. Gelf and his friends were soon overwhelmed and forced to retreat.

When they emerged they saw the first of the home trees toppling to the ground.