Birch, Linden, Yew, and Harold
Oct. 3rd, 2009 01:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aaaaaaaagh_skyEllen's tongue clung to the roof of her mouth as if someone had tried to glue it there. That was the first thing she noticed as she came back to consciousness. The second was the weird, bitter aftertaste that lingered; the third was that she was lying on the ground, a rock digging into the small of her back. Wincing, she worked her tongue free and sat up. She was still in Oasis, that much was clear- surrounded by taller trees and on rockier ground, flanked by pools of water, but still in Oasis. Well, she still seemed to be in one piece, and she didn't seem to be missing anything...
"Glad to see you're finally awake," grumbled a low, drawling voice from behind her. "I can't believe they made you you do that stupid ceremony."
Ellen whipped around to face the speaker, and found no one there. Only a singularly tall and bulky tree, its branches oddly leafless compared to the others, and OH DEAR GOD IT HAD A FACE. WITH AN EYE. AND TEETH.
It burst into a fit of coughing as she stared, torn between fascination and utter horror. "They listen when I talk," the tree said (the tree! THE ACTUAL TREE! It was moving, it wasn't a hidden speaker!), "but, they don't hear... know what I mean?"
Did... did it expect her to answer? "I... okay?" she managed. "I'm sorry, I never met a talking tree before..."
"Neither have I," the tree drawled, its one yellow eye looking her up and down before rolling skyward. "I mean, I talk to Herbert, but he never really says anything back." It gave a dry, dusty-sounding chuckle. "He kept growin' around me, maybe for calling him Herbert all the time. His name's really Bob. I think it's funny when I call him Herbert, though."
Ellen shook her head slowly and wondered whether that Treeminder sap had left her hallucinating along with the horrible taste in her mouth. Since even if she was hallucinating there was no reason not to be polite, she carefully said, "I'm beginning to suspect you weren't always this way, sir."
"Mmmm... nope," said the tree. "See, I was once, a long, long time ago a man, named Harold. Something in me changed, and a weird little tree started growing right out of my head. It kept gettin' bigger until I ended up stuck inside. When people kept asking about it I decided to name it Bob. you know, like a friend, or something. Something I decide to call him Herbert instead of Bob, because I get bored. So, long story short... call me Harold."
"How did that even happen?" Ellen asked, unable to stop herself.
The tree- Harold- gave a long, ponderous sigh. "It was... a long time ago," he finally said. "I was explorin' ... some sort of a military base with some other people. I think it was called Mariposa. We were pretty deep inside, and we found some weird vats of this nasty green goo." There was another tired-sounding wheeze. "Right when we were about t'leave, I think we were attacked. Last thing I remember before blacking out was something knocking my friend into the stuff."
Ellen gulped; there had been a mutant in the Germantown police station who'd said something about green goo... But Harold had stopped talking, staring off into the distance. She put the memory aside. "I'm sorry to hear that," she said. "Is there anything I can do to help in the meantime?"
Harold huffed softly. His face wasn't particularly mobile, but she half imagined she could hear him smiling. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear you ask that, young lady," he managed. "Or, we're glad to hear that... me and Bob. I had you brought in here to ask a very simple favor."
"All right," Ellen said, "what is it?"
Harold fixed her with his single yellow eye. "Would you please kill me?"
There was silence for a moment. Two.
"... I'm sorry?" Ellen finally said. "What?"
"You heard me, missy."
"You want... you want me to murder you?" she all but squeaked. Killing those raiders, or the Talons, was one thing. That was self-defense. But this?
Harold huffed, rocking his face from side to side in the closest he could manage to shaking his head. "Oh no, no, no," he rasped. "It wouldn't be murder. You'd be doin' me a favor. Y'see, I've been stuck here for over two decades now... rooted right into the ground. The only friends I've got are Bob 'n those weirdos out there who think I'm a god. It gets old after a while, you know? Real old."
"I don't... how would I even... you're a tree."
"How to put this?" Harold's eye drifted off to stare at nothing in particular as he thought. Eventually he said, "I've been feelin' rather... spread out... lately. I think Bob's kinda shoved my insides around some. It's hard to tell where everything is, but it's always that way with one's insides, isn't it?"
Ellen thought of Dr. Tam's little announcement about her spleens, and winced.
"Anyway, I believe Bob's carried some of my organs into his root system," Harold continued. "I want you to go underground and destroy my heart."
That seemed to be all he had to say. Ellen ran a hand over her face. "Can I think about it for a bit?" she asked. "This is kind of a big thing."
"Sure," said Harold. "Long as you don't run off on us, or wind up joining those loonies, I can wait a little more."
"Thank you," Ellen said.
There were no Treeminders to be seen when Ellen emerged from the grove's gate, only Dogmeat waiting patiently nearby. That was just fine with Ellen. She settled down on a log and put her face in her hands. This... wasn't exactly covered in her Vault training; Reverend Avellone had mostly talked about helping people come to their own decisions about how to face the end of their lives, when he talked about such things at all. It was one thing to kill a snarling, maddened gunman out for her blood, but to execute someone who'd never done her any harm? Even if he wanted it? That didn't sit right at all. Even if she had to admit that being stuck in one place while something messed with her insides for twenty years straight would drive her to some horrendous extremes, it still just... aagh. She didn't know. Lord, she said silently, if there's any way you can help me out with this, or Harold, or both of us...
Dogmeat whuffed quietly. Ellen looked up; the dark-skinned little girl from the purification ceremony was standing in front of her. "So you're the Outsider, huh?" she said. "You seem nice to me!'
"Oh," said Ellen. "Yes, I suppose I am. Hi, um..."
"My name's Yew. Sapling Yew," said the girl. "Like that tree over there. What's your name?"
"Ellen," Ellen said. "I don't think it's like anything. It's just the name my parents gave me."
"So's my name!" Yew said. "I was born here. Where were you born, out in the Wastes?"
"No, down in the ruins of DC," Ellen said. "In the old Jefferson Memorial."
"Oh, wow," said Yew. "that's a long way away."
"It sure is," Ellen agreed. She looked at the girl for a moment-
( "I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children." )
Why not. "Yew?" Ellen said. "What can you tell me about your god?"
"Oh, you mean Harold?" Yew said. "He's really nice. Sometimes when I get really lonely, I go into the Grove and I talk to him. Sometimes I even curl up all cozy-like and sleep next to his roots after I have a bad dream. I tell him what I'm scared of and he tells me what he's scared of. It makes me feel better knowing I'm not the only one."
"I didn't think a tree like him would be scared of anything," Ellen said, a little startled.
"Sure," Yew said. "Harold's scared of fire. If fire ever got on him, it would burn him and Bob until they were all gone. That's why there's no torches in the Grove, except right near the gate."
Ellen shook her head. "Poor guy," she murmured. "I hadn't thought of that."
"He said once-"
But Ellen never found out what Harold said once. The rising sound of an argument interrupted Yew's words; it was Tree Father Birch and the old woman who'd poured out the Sap. "-got it all wrong!" the woman was saying. "Why else would He have called for an Outsider's assistance?"
"The Outsider is here to deliver us from our enemies, Laurel!" Birch protested. "To keep this place safely locked away from the Wasteland! Not to exploit us!"
Laurel stuck her hands on her hips. "How can we preach about peace when all you want to do is keep his gift all to ourselves? That's not what He would want!"
"If we allow the spread of this miracle to continue, we're putting Him in jeopardy," Birch retorted. "I can't allow that- I won't allow it!"
Laurel sighed. "Once again, my husband, we are at an impasse. I suggest we speak to the Outsider."
"Agreed," said Birch. "Why else would the Outsider have been allowed into the Grove? Perhaps it's a test. Yes... that must be it!"
Ellen blinked, but before she could protest, they were looking expectantly at her. Birch stepped forward. "I know why you're here," he said without preamble. "Despite what my wife thinks, I know you'll do what's best for Oasis. After all, He chose you and He would never want to put us in harm's way."
"Uh, Tree Father..." Ellen hesitated. "Harold isn't a god. He's just a human that had some really bad luck."
To her surprise, he smiled serenely. "Oh, he's testing you now, just like he tested us! He wants to see if your faith is strong by spinning these incredible stories. Who else but a god could produce all of this?"
Ellen thought of Milliways, but said nothing. Birch added, "Don't worry, you'll soon see things as I do."
"About that," said Ellen, trying to ignore the crawling sensation on the back of her neck. "Are you aware he wants to die?"
"Yes, I've been pondering that riddle myself for some time now, and I think I know what He's trying to tell us," said Birch. "The Great One's influence is growing and soon it will break free of the confines of this secluded vale. We can't allow Oasis to call attention to itself like that. It would be the end of Him."
Ellen privately thought that the end was precisely what 'He' was after, but there was something so sadly earnest about Birch's expression that she held back from saying it. Instead she said, "What can I do to help?"
"Well," said Birch, "if the same sap that you drank to purify yourself could be applied to His heart, it should stop the spread."
Oh. THAT was reassuring.
"No harm would come to Him. That's all I ask of you, Outsider. Nothing more, nothing less. I'll go get you some..."
As Birch toddled off, Laurel shook her head. "I love that man," she said, "but sometimes I think he doesn't see the big picture. the spreading of His influence isn't a curse, it's a great miracle.. a benefit meant for the entire Wasteland."
Ellen restrained the urge to scream, but there was still a tart edge to her voice as she asked, "Don't any of you care what your god really thinks?"
"Of course we do!" Laurel said. "He yearns to share His miracles with the whole world... to give the gift of life back to the dead Wasteland! It's upsetting Him to no end, but Birch can't see the pain it's causing."
Seriously, ma'am, I'm pretty sure that's not what Harold wants, Ellen thought- and then realized she was essentially trying to justify a murder.
"But now that you're here," Laurel went on, "I have a feeling that the winds are about to change. I heard what my husband wanted you to do. What I propose is an alternative. I have a liniment preparation made by the same herbalist who prepares the Sap of Purification. If you can reach HIs heart with it, it will assist in making His influence increase. Instead of centuries, the Wasteland will become green again in mere decades! Just imagine how glorious that would be!"
Ellen opened her mouth- and then stopped, as she realized she genuinely couldn't counter that. The image of the hellish Wastes as green as the land behind Milliways rose in her thoughts. If what Laurel said was true...
"I'll be right back," said Laurel. "And then you can go and speak to Branchtender Cypress about the caves below us."
Ellen watched Laurel walk away, and when she judged the older woman was out of sight, took a moment to lean her forehead against the nearest tree and let out a long, long sigh.
"Glad to see you're finally awake," grumbled a low, drawling voice from behind her. "I can't believe they made you you do that stupid ceremony."
Ellen whipped around to face the speaker, and found no one there. Only a singularly tall and bulky tree, its branches oddly leafless compared to the others, and OH DEAR GOD IT HAD A FACE. WITH AN EYE. AND TEETH.
It burst into a fit of coughing as she stared, torn between fascination and utter horror. "They listen when I talk," the tree said (the tree! THE ACTUAL TREE! It was moving, it wasn't a hidden speaker!), "but, they don't hear... know what I mean?"
Did... did it expect her to answer? "I... okay?" she managed. "I'm sorry, I never met a talking tree before..."
"Neither have I," the tree drawled, its one yellow eye looking her up and down before rolling skyward. "I mean, I talk to Herbert, but he never really says anything back." It gave a dry, dusty-sounding chuckle. "He kept growin' around me, maybe for calling him Herbert all the time. His name's really Bob. I think it's funny when I call him Herbert, though."
Ellen shook her head slowly and wondered whether that Treeminder sap had left her hallucinating along with the horrible taste in her mouth. Since even if she was hallucinating there was no reason not to be polite, she carefully said, "I'm beginning to suspect you weren't always this way, sir."
"Mmmm... nope," said the tree. "See, I was once, a long, long time ago a man, named Harold. Something in me changed, and a weird little tree started growing right out of my head. It kept gettin' bigger until I ended up stuck inside. When people kept asking about it I decided to name it Bob. you know, like a friend, or something. Something I decide to call him Herbert instead of Bob, because I get bored. So, long story short... call me Harold."
"How did that even happen?" Ellen asked, unable to stop herself.
The tree- Harold- gave a long, ponderous sigh. "It was... a long time ago," he finally said. "I was explorin' ... some sort of a military base with some other people. I think it was called Mariposa. We were pretty deep inside, and we found some weird vats of this nasty green goo." There was another tired-sounding wheeze. "Right when we were about t'leave, I think we were attacked. Last thing I remember before blacking out was something knocking my friend into the stuff."
Ellen gulped; there had been a mutant in the Germantown police station who'd said something about green goo... But Harold had stopped talking, staring off into the distance. She put the memory aside. "I'm sorry to hear that," she said. "Is there anything I can do to help in the meantime?"
Harold huffed softly. His face wasn't particularly mobile, but she half imagined she could hear him smiling. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear you ask that, young lady," he managed. "Or, we're glad to hear that... me and Bob. I had you brought in here to ask a very simple favor."
"All right," Ellen said, "what is it?"
Harold fixed her with his single yellow eye. "Would you please kill me?"
There was silence for a moment. Two.
"... I'm sorry?" Ellen finally said. "What?"
"You heard me, missy."
"You want... you want me to murder you?" she all but squeaked. Killing those raiders, or the Talons, was one thing. That was self-defense. But this?
Harold huffed, rocking his face from side to side in the closest he could manage to shaking his head. "Oh no, no, no," he rasped. "It wouldn't be murder. You'd be doin' me a favor. Y'see, I've been stuck here for over two decades now... rooted right into the ground. The only friends I've got are Bob 'n those weirdos out there who think I'm a god. It gets old after a while, you know? Real old."
"I don't... how would I even... you're a tree."
"How to put this?" Harold's eye drifted off to stare at nothing in particular as he thought. Eventually he said, "I've been feelin' rather... spread out... lately. I think Bob's kinda shoved my insides around some. It's hard to tell where everything is, but it's always that way with one's insides, isn't it?"
Ellen thought of Dr. Tam's little announcement about her spleens, and winced.
"Anyway, I believe Bob's carried some of my organs into his root system," Harold continued. "I want you to go underground and destroy my heart."
That seemed to be all he had to say. Ellen ran a hand over her face. "Can I think about it for a bit?" she asked. "This is kind of a big thing."
"Sure," said Harold. "Long as you don't run off on us, or wind up joining those loonies, I can wait a little more."
"Thank you," Ellen said.
There were no Treeminders to be seen when Ellen emerged from the grove's gate, only Dogmeat waiting patiently nearby. That was just fine with Ellen. She settled down on a log and put her face in her hands. This... wasn't exactly covered in her Vault training; Reverend Avellone had mostly talked about helping people come to their own decisions about how to face the end of their lives, when he talked about such things at all. It was one thing to kill a snarling, maddened gunman out for her blood, but to execute someone who'd never done her any harm? Even if he wanted it? That didn't sit right at all. Even if she had to admit that being stuck in one place while something messed with her insides for twenty years straight would drive her to some horrendous extremes, it still just... aagh. She didn't know. Lord, she said silently, if there's any way you can help me out with this, or Harold, or both of us...
Dogmeat whuffed quietly. Ellen looked up; the dark-skinned little girl from the purification ceremony was standing in front of her. "So you're the Outsider, huh?" she said. "You seem nice to me!'
"Oh," said Ellen. "Yes, I suppose I am. Hi, um..."
"My name's Yew. Sapling Yew," said the girl. "Like that tree over there. What's your name?"
"Ellen," Ellen said. "I don't think it's like anything. It's just the name my parents gave me."
"So's my name!" Yew said. "I was born here. Where were you born, out in the Wastes?"
"No, down in the ruins of DC," Ellen said. "In the old Jefferson Memorial."
"Oh, wow," said Yew. "that's a long way away."
"It sure is," Ellen agreed. She looked at the girl for a moment-
( "I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children." )
Why not. "Yew?" Ellen said. "What can you tell me about your god?"
"Oh, you mean Harold?" Yew said. "He's really nice. Sometimes when I get really lonely, I go into the Grove and I talk to him. Sometimes I even curl up all cozy-like and sleep next to his roots after I have a bad dream. I tell him what I'm scared of and he tells me what he's scared of. It makes me feel better knowing I'm not the only one."
"I didn't think a tree like him would be scared of anything," Ellen said, a little startled.
"Sure," Yew said. "Harold's scared of fire. If fire ever got on him, it would burn him and Bob until they were all gone. That's why there's no torches in the Grove, except right near the gate."
Ellen shook her head. "Poor guy," she murmured. "I hadn't thought of that."
"He said once-"
But Ellen never found out what Harold said once. The rising sound of an argument interrupted Yew's words; it was Tree Father Birch and the old woman who'd poured out the Sap. "-got it all wrong!" the woman was saying. "Why else would He have called for an Outsider's assistance?"
"The Outsider is here to deliver us from our enemies, Laurel!" Birch protested. "To keep this place safely locked away from the Wasteland! Not to exploit us!"
Laurel stuck her hands on her hips. "How can we preach about peace when all you want to do is keep his gift all to ourselves? That's not what He would want!"
"If we allow the spread of this miracle to continue, we're putting Him in jeopardy," Birch retorted. "I can't allow that- I won't allow it!"
Laurel sighed. "Once again, my husband, we are at an impasse. I suggest we speak to the Outsider."
"Agreed," said Birch. "Why else would the Outsider have been allowed into the Grove? Perhaps it's a test. Yes... that must be it!"
Ellen blinked, but before she could protest, they were looking expectantly at her. Birch stepped forward. "I know why you're here," he said without preamble. "Despite what my wife thinks, I know you'll do what's best for Oasis. After all, He chose you and He would never want to put us in harm's way."
"Uh, Tree Father..." Ellen hesitated. "Harold isn't a god. He's just a human that had some really bad luck."
To her surprise, he smiled serenely. "Oh, he's testing you now, just like he tested us! He wants to see if your faith is strong by spinning these incredible stories. Who else but a god could produce all of this?"
Ellen thought of Milliways, but said nothing. Birch added, "Don't worry, you'll soon see things as I do."
"About that," said Ellen, trying to ignore the crawling sensation on the back of her neck. "Are you aware he wants to die?"
"Yes, I've been pondering that riddle myself for some time now, and I think I know what He's trying to tell us," said Birch. "The Great One's influence is growing and soon it will break free of the confines of this secluded vale. We can't allow Oasis to call attention to itself like that. It would be the end of Him."
Ellen privately thought that the end was precisely what 'He' was after, but there was something so sadly earnest about Birch's expression that she held back from saying it. Instead she said, "What can I do to help?"
"Well," said Birch, "if the same sap that you drank to purify yourself could be applied to His heart, it should stop the spread."
Oh. THAT was reassuring.
"No harm would come to Him. That's all I ask of you, Outsider. Nothing more, nothing less. I'll go get you some..."
As Birch toddled off, Laurel shook her head. "I love that man," she said, "but sometimes I think he doesn't see the big picture. the spreading of His influence isn't a curse, it's a great miracle.. a benefit meant for the entire Wasteland."
Ellen restrained the urge to scream, but there was still a tart edge to her voice as she asked, "Don't any of you care what your god really thinks?"
"Of course we do!" Laurel said. "He yearns to share His miracles with the whole world... to give the gift of life back to the dead Wasteland! It's upsetting Him to no end, but Birch can't see the pain it's causing."
Seriously, ma'am, I'm pretty sure that's not what Harold wants, Ellen thought- and then realized she was essentially trying to justify a murder.
"But now that you're here," Laurel went on, "I have a feeling that the winds are about to change. I heard what my husband wanted you to do. What I propose is an alternative. I have a liniment preparation made by the same herbalist who prepares the Sap of Purification. If you can reach HIs heart with it, it will assist in making His influence increase. Instead of centuries, the Wasteland will become green again in mere decades! Just imagine how glorious that would be!"
Ellen opened her mouth- and then stopped, as she realized she genuinely couldn't counter that. The image of the hellish Wastes as green as the land behind Milliways rose in her thoughts. If what Laurel said was true...
"I'll be right back," said Laurel. "And then you can go and speak to Branchtender Cypress about the caves below us."
Ellen watched Laurel walk away, and when she judged the older woman was out of sight, took a moment to lean her forehead against the nearest tree and let out a long, long sigh.