A ROHAN TAPESTRY

Chapter Seven:  The Sands of Time

“And lights, Legolas!  We should make lights, such lamps as once shone in Khazad-dûm; and when we wished we would drive away the night that has lain there since the hills were made.”  Gimli, ‘The Road to Isengard’, The Two Towers

The field below the ruined gates was littered with debris – ladders, rubble from the walls, shields, spent arrows and broken spears, and all manner of abandoned gear of war.  The Company had arrived at Helm’s Deep that morning, and after luncheon Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas walked about with the hobbits, describing what had taken place there.

“It’s been months since the battle,” Merry said in dismay, stepping carefully.  “Won’t this all be cleaned up and rebuilt?”

“Eventually,” Aragorn assured him.  “Rebuilding requires men, but once the mounds were raised and the dead mourned, Éomer wisely decided to let everyone return to their homes and salvage what they can of the summer crops.  Farmsteads need work, orchards need harvesting, and livestock must be counted and seen to.  For now, Rohan needs these things more than repairs to Helm’s Deep.”

“You’re right, Strider,” Sam said boldly.  “When you know your bit of garden is tended, your family safe, and your animals cared for, it puts more heart in you.”

“Will there be shortages?” Pippin asked anxiously.

“I do not believe so,” Gimli assured him.  “The caverns were stocked with veritable mountains of supplies.  I suspect that the stores of grain and other foodstuffs I saw will be distributed equitably.”

“It has already been done,” Aragorn said.  “No one will go hungry, Pippin.”  He looked around, and sighed.  “Minas Tirith will need much rebuilding also, but its farmlands, as well, must be restored first.  It may be many years before the White City is once again whole.”

“I hope to bring my folk south to assist,” Gimli said, bowing slightly.  “Until you have seen Dwarves at work, you have not seen true skill, or speed, when it comes to what can be accomplished with stone.  The bones of this land run true and strong,” he continued, gazing about thoughtfully.  “It would be most satisfying to labor here.”

“Your cities will need more trees,” Legolas said to Aragorn, “as well as flowers and gardens to delight the spirit.  There is also Ithilien to be restored, and river lands to be reforested.  Families who have known nothing but war might not fully appreciate the patience it takes to bring forth generations of growing things that bring beauty and joy to the eye and heart.”

“It will be beautiful,” Frodo whispered.

“Mr. Frodo, are you all right?” Sam asked suddenly.

“I’m fine, Sam.”  Frodo stood slightly apart from the rest, a far-off look in his eyes.  While the others spoke, he had found himself overcome by a sudden vision – an army of Dwarves swarming over these stones like ants.  As he watched in wonder, the cities of the south rose once again in splendor, rivalling those of old.  Gimli’s folk would bring their wisdom to the stones, as woodland Elves would bring theirs to the land.  And above it all shone the kings of Rohan and Gondor, bringing peace and plenty to a people who had known it but little.

“I think we’d best go back,” Merry said firmly.  “I can hear Frodo’s stomach grumbling.”

“That’s mine,” Pippin declared.

“Even more reason to go back,” Aragorn smiled.  “Are you ready, Frodo?”

Frodo nodded.  “An early supper would be wonderful.  And tomorrow...” He turned to Gimli with a smile.  “I hope to see those caves of which you speak so highly.”  He motioned to the other hobbits, who were nodding.  “We all do.”

“Ah,” Gimli sighed with pleasure.  “It will be an honor to share this sight with you, my dear friends.”  He chuckled at Legolas’s dour expression.  “Even this Elf might see something he will long remember.”

*~*~*~*~*

They picked their way carefully through the front chamber, littered still with the boxes, sacks, and fodder that had not yet been cleared out.  Gimli, leading the small party, and Legolas, in the rear, both held lit torches, as did Merry and Sam.

“Was that a sigh of joy, Master Baggins?” Gimli chuckled.

“You were right about the sand, Gimli,” Frodo smiled.  He stopped walking for a moment and dug his toes into the cool, soft ground.  “This feels lovely.”

“The walls are sparkling,” Pippin marveled, looking around at the passage.  “How beautiful.”

“We have yet to reach what I have brought you here to see,” Gimli said.  He rounded a corner, followed by the others, and held his torch high.  “Behold!  And this is but one chamber of hundreds, stretching for miles – or so I was told.”

The hobbits gasped as they looked about.  From every direction came glitter and flash, strange and beautiful formations, and delicate colors almost beyond comprehension.  Pools of clear water rang with the music of water falling, one slow drip at a time, from twisted flutes of rock, walls of gems, and curtains of marble.

Astonished, Sam walked up to a small outcropping of stone in the rough shape of a rose, and touched it gently.

“Can you feel it, Sam?” Gimli asked.  “Those rough edges?  Would not the true potential be realized were the sides shaped and polished so that each delicate blossom is best revealed?”

“You would prune the rock!” Sam cried out.  “Like with flowers and trees?”

“Aye,” Gimli said softly.  “You understand.  When it comes to living rock, Dwarves, too, become gardeners.  There should be a balance between the beauty of that which grows wild, and that which is encouraged to achieve a potential lying dormant within.”

“Look at the arrangement of those pale blue crystals,” Frodo said to Merry, pointing to a far corner of the cavern.  “Doesn’t that look like your mother’s chandelier?”

“Blue crystals?” Merry asked, squinting.  He walked forward with the torch until he reached the intricate formation.  “Frodo, how did you see this from back there?”

Frodo looked around, realizing that, as in Moria, he was able to see much more in the dark than his friends.  If only they could...

“This is like being inside a star,” Legolas murmured, speaking for the first time.

“Or maybe the star-glass,” Sam said in a hushed voice.

The phial.  Slowly Frodo drew it out, its gentle light radiating through his fingers.  “Aiya Eärendil Elenion Ancalima!” he cried out suddenly.

“What does that mean?” Merry wondered aloud.

“I’m still trying to find out what ‘the Mark’ means,” Pippin sighed.

Legolas was amazed to hear such fluent Quenya spring from Frodo’s lips, then gasped in awe at the pure Light coming from the hobbit’s hand.

As in Cirith Ungol, Frodo found the words seeming to come to him without conscious thought.  Light flooded the phial and overflowed.  The star-glass suddenly blazed, illuminating the cavern in a fierce, glittering fire.

As the others gazed at Frodo in amazement, Gimli had eyes only for the cavern in which they stood, lit with a dazzling radiance that he doubted had ever graced these underground lands in all the years since Mahal had woken Durin from his sleep.  He could envision it all, everything his folk could accomplish here.  Shafts, lamps, a slow pruning and enhancing of each precious crystal and chamber...

To his surprise and joy, the phial’s radiance also illuminated a rare sight: glowing phosphorescent minerals and plants.  Gimli looked about in wonder, thinking hard.  The oldest of their artisans claimed to know the secrets of creating light that revealed the hidden colors in rock, even in the darkest chasm.  Perhaps they could be persuaded to come, or send apprentices.

Here, surrounded by the materials of which the world was made, Gimli knew a deep, inbred satisfaction.   This was where he belonged; this was a place worthy of the efforts of his folk.

“Halloooo!” Pippin called out softly.  The young hobbit’s voice echoed throughout the chamber.

“Why don’t you sing something, Mr. Pippin?” Sam asked.  “I mean, if you want to.”

Merry turned to Gimli.  “Would that be all right?”

“I would enjoy it,” Gimli smiled.  “With the permission of King Éomer, I hope these chambers soon ring with the song of Dwarves as they enhance the beauty of what you see.  It is a pleasing sound, as is the joyful voices of hobbits.”

Seeing everyone nod encouragingly, Pippin stepped out alone into the center of the vast, glittering chamber.  He began to sing softly, one of Bilbo’s songs about springtime and new life, rain and the sunshine that always follows.  His lilting voice, blending with the music of the water all around them, echoed until it sounded as if a full chorus of Tooks sang, not just one.

“It’s all lovely, isn’t it, Mr. Frodo?” Sam whispered.

Frodo nodded.  Transfixed, he gently caressed a translucent sheet of marble. It seemed familiar somehow, a silver curtain floating in a sea of music.  He relaxed and let his hand drop, the phial’s light fading to its usual gentle pulse. 

Pippin stopped singing, but the echo of his voice continued faintly… until all that could be heard, once again, was the gentle drops of water falling into crystalline pools.  He and Merry came to join Frodo and Sam.

“That was beautiful, Pip,” Frodo said.  “I don’t suppose Bilbo felt like singing in Smaug’s cave, but it might have sounded just as wonderful.”

“This is fascinating, isn’t it?” Merry asked.  He held his torch high and watched carefully as a drop of liquid slowly ran down a nearby twisted flute of minerals to finally reach the tip, then fall to the sandy floor below.  “It must have taken ages for all of this to form.”

“Time moves differently down here,” Frodo said softly.  “It reminds me of how Bilbo seemed so young for the longest time.”  He sighed.   “I wish he could be here.  It’s his tale we’re in, even now.  We always have been.”

The other hobbits nodded in agreement.

Bilbo would love this, Frodo thought.  He’s the thread woven throughout the whole tapestry of our Quest... companion to Gimli’s father, burglar in King Thranduil’s halls, friend of a hidden king, and bearer of the One Ring... he’s at the heart of it all. I’ll bring him this story, with everything I can remember, and whatever years dear Bilbo has left, I hope to spend them at his side.

“Look at that,” Pippin murmured.  “I do believe he’s finally beginning to enjoy himself.”

The hobbits turned to see Gimli pointing out various wonders to Legolas.  The smile on the Elf’s face was genuine and appreciative.

** TBC **