The hobbits fell asleep to the sound of the soft singing of Bregalad, that seemed to lament in many tongues the fall of the trees that he had loved.

            After more or less an hour of peaceful sleep, Merry was suddenly awakened.  At first he could not tell what had jarred him from his deep slumber, but after a few moments, his question was answered.  A new voice had broken the silence, one that was a good deal closer to the ent-house than the distant murmur that was the Moot.  It was speaking what Merry could now recognize as Entish, but the voice itself was somewhat higher than Treebeard's, Bregalad's, and all the Ents of the Moot.  This fact sparked his curiosity, but not as much as that the voice was steadily coming nearer.  Nudging Pippin until the younger hobbit was also awake, Merry watched the circle of rowan trees around them intently, hoping his guess as to which direction from which the voice was coming was correct.

            "What is it?"  Pippin whispered, wanting to know why Merry had felt the need to wake him up, but Merry motioned for him to be silent, because he had at last seen a trace of movement behind the dark ring of trees.  Being the middle of the night, he was unable to discern much about what it was that was moving beyond the rowans until the figure stepped into the ent-house.

            Merry wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but he certainly hadn't imagined that the voice was coming from the slight young woman he was watching walk up the side of the boulder on which he and Pippin sat.  In the darkness, the hobbit could not tell if she was Man or Elf, but something about her was unlike anyone he had seen of either race.  Even in the dim moonlight, he could see that she had a very light, "sun-kissed" sort of tan, but even with that, she had a sort of moonlit glow that reminded him somehow of Rivendell.  Her long brown hair was thick and wild, falling in untamed ripples down her back.  She was dressed simply, in a deep green gown, edged in brown and white, which made no sound as she moved.  Neither did she, for that matter, save for the Entish she was still speaking; as soon as Merry had seen her, he had gone from thinking her voice strangely high for an Ent, to unbelievably low for such a woman.  He could not see her eyes, for she had yet to look in the direction of the two hobbits.  She was moving directly to where Bregalad stood silent.  Indeed, in their wonder at this mysterious new presence, Merry and Pippin had all but forgotten about their guardian.  She kept walking until she stood at his feet, her mouth still open in speech.

            "Slow down, child!"  Bregalad laughed.  "If you feel the need to speak quickly, use the Common tongue."  She nodded, opening her mouth to speak again, but paused, finally noticing Merry and Pippin, who had both moved to a standing position some three meters away.

            "Who have we here?"  Her voice was slow and melodious, her inflections reminding Merry of the spring bubbling out from the ground not too far away.  "These two young sirs," Bregalad murmured, "are Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took, hobbits from the Shire."

            "Merry and Pippin is easier," Pippin piped up, as Merry continued to eye her curiously.

            The girl shook her head slowly.  "No need to shorten them," she stated, taking her time with her words once more.  "If it does not offend you, I would rather use your full name.

            "I remember your names anyway," she said, smiling slightly.  "From the Moot.  You were added to the old lists."  Both hobbits nodded.  "But, if I may," Merry began, looking up at her, "who are you?"  The girl's eyes (which they could now see were hazel) gleamed as she laughed in a manner that somehow reminded the two hobbits of Bregalad.  Her entire face lit up as she did so, and as it settled afterward, something about her expression set a bell off in Pippin's head.  It was vaguely familiar, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember why.

            "My friends," Bregalad said, looking down at them with what could only be assumed was a small smile on his face.  "I would like to introduce Onodiel."

            "No," she said loudly, and a good deal quicker than anything she had yet uttered, before resuming her former pace.  "Only among the Elves am I Onodiel.  In the Common Tongue, I very much prefer Rowan."