Thanks go to Ophidia, who gave me the idea for this story to begin with. :)

Rose pushed the curtains aside and stared out of the windows next to the mansion's door for a moment. It was still raining... one of Amn's infamous rainstorms which lasted days on end. A veritable fog of rain poured down on the city, thick enough to barely see more than a meter ahead. The grey clouds obscured the sun, making it seem evening in the middle of the day. It was dank and depressive, but still she enjoyed the sound of the rain pouring onto the roof and against the window-panes... without hearing the sounds of numerous leaks being caught by buckets and pails... like she had heard every time it had rained when she stilled lived in her old home in the bridge-section.

From upstairs, she heard splashing and giggling... the kids were playing in the pool. Rose then looked outside again. Rose had committed herself to taking care of Laska's garden in her absence. The garden was the result of Laska's nurturing side, as well as her elven heritage... so she felt obligated to keep it alive until Laska returned home.

After walking through the kitchen, she put on a raincoat and stepped outside into the garden. Looking up, she saw that the magical rain-shield Dynaheir had put up was neatly keeping out most of the damaging rain. Many such rain shields were in place over the public gardens and parks to keep the rain from washing away the plants and the soil. This particular rain shield formed a bubble over the garden, letting the water slide over the magical shield, allowing only a few drops through. Still, the air was moist and the grass was wet beneath her feet.

Rose quickly headed to the shed, where she found Laska had stored all over her gardening tools and equipment... unfortunately, when she had first found it, it had been an unmitigated chaotic mess. To make matters worse, Laska had placed all kinds of different plants with different needs together in her surprisingly organized garden. Fortunately, she had kept notes... unfortunately, these notes were all written on small, separate cards in Laska's completely undecipherable calligraphy.

So, Rose had brought a plant-book from the library and just hoped she would be doing the right thing. At least she wouldn't have to water the plants today... but she would have to provide them with fresh dirt and plant food.

After supplying a rosebush with a fresh batch of plantfood, she decided to get the biggest jobs done first. She returned to the shed to drag a bag of manure towards the large oak standing in the middle of the garden. She paused a moment to wipe the sweat of her brow and to look at the tall, magnificent oak, ancient and gnarled.

"Well," Rose said to the oak as she opened the bag. "Time to get you some food."

Suddenly, however, a voice brought her out of her reverie. It was deep and ghastly, yet wise and ancient. It spoke : "Hey! Don't even think about dumping that crap on my roots!"

Rose gasped and dropped the bag. "W-who said that?" She whirled around, looking for someone who could have spoken those words.

"Over here," the tree spoke.

"Y-you?" Rose swallowed deeply as she regarded the oak.

"Do you see anyone else here?"

"I... I must be dreaming!" Rose said.

"I hope not," the tree muttered. "If you're dreaming, then I'm dreaming... in which case I'll probably end up with smelly roots."

"You can talk!" Rose exclaimed.

"You've noticed!" the tree snorted.

"But... trees can't talk!"

"How do you know?" the tree replied. "Maybe trees never had anything to say to you. Ever think of that?"

"You mean... trees have been snubbing me my whole life?"

"Well, if you want to put it that way," the oak replied.

"You... you've always been able to talk?"

"Ever since I stopped being an acorn," the tree snorted. "Speaking of acorns, this isn't a bad place to spend my twilight centuries. A tree could do worse after being suddenly teleported away... heh, at least it got rid of those damn squirrels. They always stick my innards full with nuts."

"You like it here?" Rose asked.

"I'm not complaining," the oak replied. "As long as people don't try to dump manure on my roots. Do you know how bad that smell is? You can move to another spot when you don't like it, but I'm not a root-walker, dear lady."

"Did you tell Laska not to, um, make your roots smelly?"

"No, she understands," the oak said. "She speaks the 'language'."

"The language?"

"The language of nature... well, it's actually more of an instinct than an actual language. I didn't need to talk to her to get the message across. She was a bit rusty at it, at first, though. But she's an elf, so she eventually caught on and stopped dumping manure on my roots."

"She's a bit of a hardhead, isn't she?" Rose smiled.

"None for subtlety," the oak snorted. "And since you are a half-elf, I didn't want to go through all that again, so I figured I'd best tell you."

"Where'd you learn common?"

"I was standing outside a magic-shop some 500 years ago," the oak said. "Plenty of traffic too. Wizard running the shop had the nasty habit of pouring his failed potions into the soil outside to reuse the bottles. It had some... interesting side-effects. I got the power of speech, but I'm not using it much. Humans have decidedly little of meaning to say."

"So you just stood there?" Rose asked.

"Until the creeper-vines got the right mix of potions to overgrow the entire village. After that there wasn't much of a village left."

"Oh, dear!" Rose said as she looked at the treehouse located between a cluster of branches. "Doesn't that hurt?"

"Nah," the oak said. "I don't mind either. It's all ash-wood. Have you ever met an ash? Load of selfish bastards, all of them."

"I never knew," Rose said.

"Ah, they make for the best kitchen-cupboards. Not much good for anything else."

"So..."

"So..." the oak replied.

"You'll be talking more now?"

"Nah," the oak replied. "Only when I feel like being an old bore or when someone wants to dump manure at my roots. I just like to stand and observe quietly. I've seen a lot of things over the past millennia, and I'd like to see more."

"I have a friend called Jan who'd like you very much."

"Do you know he talks to trees?" the oak snorted. "I really wish he wouldn't. His stories are even weirder than mine."

"ROSE!" Risa called out from the balcony. "Someone at the door!"

"Um," Rose said after turning back towards the oak. "I have to go answer the door."

"Better answer it," the oak spoke. "If you ever want to talk again... you'll know where I'll be. I just can't promise that I answer... At least not immediately. Time has little meaning when you're as old a bark hide as I am."

Rose smiled and nodded... the tree actually looked kindly.

After opening the door, she found none other than Astlyn standing in the rain. She was absolutely drenched to the bone, and even her normally voluminous red hair clung to her skin like a wet cat.

"Astlyn!" Rose suppressed a giggle at seeing the normally so flamboyant lady in such an undignified state.

"I have underestimated Amnian rain," Astlyn stated dryly.

"Why'd you come here?" Rose asked. "You'd be dryer back at the inn!"

"Yeah, but you wouldn't be there," Astlyn winked as she dripped all over the floor. "I wanted to take you out, remember? But, unfortunately, 'out' has become very 'wet'."

"Sweet, but not very smart," Rose nodded. "Go there," she pointed to the bedroom. "There's some robes in the closet. Just leave your wet clothes on the chair in the corner near the fire."

As if on cue, the faithful Lasalla came walking down the staircase. "Anything I can do, Rose?"

"Yes," Rose smiled. "Could you hang Astlyn's wet clothes to dry? She's in the bedroom."

"Out in this weather?" Lasalla shook her head. "She'll catch her death of cold."

"Even Laska wouldn't go to the pub in this rain," Rose shook her head. "Not as long as the cellar is still stocked, at least."

"How Laska can put away so much drink, I simply don't... Oh, my," Lasalla said.

Rose turned around and there stood Astlyn. Wearing one of Laska's sets of leather pants and matching blue vest.

"Well, I'm glad this Laska of yours was such a tall elf, or it wouldn't have fit at all. It is pretty snug, though, but it's better than a wet pantsuit. Geez, this gal was slender... I'm glad it's only a top, otherwise I'd be needing a corset..."

Rose stammered. "You... you couldn't find a robe?"

"This looked more fun," Astlyn chuckled as she adjusted her bosom... and her eyepatch. "Damn those elves and their eternally slender bodies, ey?"

"I, um, I... I," Rose stammered and had to look away.

"Shy again, Rose?" Astlyn winked. "That's my girl. Just like in the old days."

"The old days? The old days?" Rose snapped. "You want to talk about the old days?! I won't be your charity case any longer, Astlyn! Oh, we had fun, but in the end, you paid for my time just like everybody else! Laska never... she never..." Rose felt an incredible wave of sadness sweep over her.

Astlyn stared for a moment. "I, um... I think that... maybe I should go."

An uncomfortable silence followed. Astlyn sighed and moved towards the door. "I'll bring back the clothes tomorrow," she said. "Sorry if I offended you."

"No," Rose said. "Don't go. I... I'm sorry. It's just that, when I saw you in Laska's clothes, I..."

"Crap," Astlyn said. "I'm so sorry, Rose. I wasn't thinking."

"You weren't," Rose said. "But then again, when did you ever think?"

"Hey!"

Rose smiled in response. "Put on a robe and meet me in the garden. There someone I'd like you to meet... but I fear you'll just end up thinking I've gone mad."