Divine Things Well Envelop'd by StarSpray

Divine Things Well Envelop'd

Read Divine Things Well Envelop'd

The earth never tires,
The earth is rude, silent, incomprehensible at first, Nature is rude and incomprehensible at first,
Be not discouraged, keep on, there are divine things well envelop'd,
I swear to you there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell.
- Walt Whitman, “Song of the Open Road, 9”

 

Time away had not lessened Gimli’s distrust of Fangorn Forest, and had he not given his word to Legolas he would have turned back again at its eaves. But Legolas pressed forward without hesitation, and Gimli followed on his heels. The forest was much as he remembered it, stuffy and close, the air tinged green and the sky all but invisible from the ground. At least this time they had Treebeard’s own blessing, and there was—well, not nothing, but certainly less to fear than before from the trees. It helped too that the huorns who had gone down to Isengard had their appetites and tempers sated, and had returned to the long sleep of trees.

Even still, Gimli kept his ax firmly strapped to his back.

It was slow going; they were not tracking anyone, and had nowhere else urgent to be, and so Legolas paused often to swing up into the branches of the nearest tree. When he did, Gimli settled down among the roots to wait, letting his thoughts drift as Legolas called down to him about what he could see from the topmost branches, or about the nest full of birds’ eggs or chicks that he had come upon unexpectedly. There was delight in everything for Legolas, it seemed, in every leaf and curving branch or bit of moss. 

After a time, however, the land began to rise and fall; hills like the one where Merry and Pippin had first met Treebeard rose up out of the wood, offering a reprieve from the perpetual gloom beneath the trees. And at times at the base of such hills, or tucked away behind tangled roots on gentler slopes, Gimli discovered little caves. Most were no more than small hollows suitable for an animal to rest in, but some went deeper, tiny dark havens of cool air where Gimli could sit and listen to the whispers of the stones the way that Legolas listened to the trees. More than one day was spent entirely in this pursuit, with Gimli underground and Legolas somewhere above it, and Gimli’s sore legs were as grateful for the reprieve as his spirit was for the familiar feel of hard stone beneath his fingers and the familiar voices of the earth. 

There was much that the earth had to say of the great love it held for the trees whose roots delved deep into it, so that in most of the forest they were so tangled up that they were almost one and the same. In this way Gimli learned much of the lives of trees and their long and sleepy thoughts, and understood a little better the love that the Elves bore for them. And perhaps he understood a little better the mind of Mahal, whose wife was Yavanna Fruit-giver, who loved trees above all other growing things.

Very occasionally, as he left one of the tiny caves he picked up a loose stone, if there was one to be found that fit snugly into his palm. These went into a small pouch tucked into his pack, near the strands of Lady Galadriel’s hair. Mementos of places no other Dwarf had seen, nor ever would.

At last, they came to a river, which flowing eastward would lead them out of Fangorn and back toward Anduin—and north to Lothlórien. They had been many weeks in Fangorn Forest. “Well, Gimli, what did you think?” Legolas asked. “Was it as bad as you thought?”

“No,” said Gimli. They sat on the grassy bank in a patch of sunshine, bathing their feet in the clear waters of the Limlight. The edge of the wood was just within sight. “But we did not stay as long as I thought we would.”

“No,” Legolas agreed. “I would linger longer, but I also want to return to my home to see what has happened there—and in Laketown and Dale, and the Lonely Mountain, too.”

Gimli hummed agreement. “I too wish to return home soon. I promised Aragorn the help of the Dwarves in rebuilding Minas Tirith.”

“And I the restoration of the gardens there, and of the lands of Ithilien,” said Legolas. “There will be time enough to come to wander through Fangorn!”

“And I have not forgotten the rest of our bargain, that you will come back with me to the Glittering Caves.”

“Oh, certainly!” Legolas laughed and kicked his feet in the water, sending droplets arcing through the air, glinting like liquid diamond as they fell back into the river. “There are many places we shall visit together, you and I, the Glittering Caves not the least! But before we take up a life of wandering, our feet must take us back home.”

“There will be plenty of work for us to do there.” Gimli stood and stretched. “But I am glad to have passed through this wood on the way. It was not so terrible as I thought.” He turned and bowed low to the trees as they stretched away southward, impenetrable, venerable, and ancient. “May your branches reach ever higher, O Forest of Fangorn!”

“Farewell!” cried Legolas as he sprang lightly to his feet. “Until we pass this way again!”